Date: Fri, 26 May 2006 08:25:15 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Nature Country 09 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?' "Nature Country" 09 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Sunday morning hit with a vengeance. When Barry lay back, breaking his hug hold on Steve, he almost pulverized tiny Scruffy. "What the hell was.... that?" Steve sat up quickly, when hearing the pup squeal out loud. Shimmying around, Barry released the poor mongrel from behind his back, bringing him into the middle of the two. Scruffy scampered from Barry's belly to Steve's. In the nick of time, Steve spread the sheet over his bare pubes. "Oh, will you look at that.. he wants `you' to take him out, Steve!" "Oh, but it's your turn, Barry dear," Steve downplayed the intent. "Mine?" "Yeah, I went with you last night. Remember?" "Hmm, so since it was my turn and you offered to come with, where does that constitute `your' turn?" Barry bluffed. "Oh, alright." Being a cheerful giver, Barry adds, "I'll be a good sport and accompany you." The two dressed in the same sweat clothing, for the third time in twelve hours. As they descended the three stairs from their bedroom suite, grabbing their coats, the front doorbell rang. "I betcha I know who that is!" Barry grinned, as his hand turned the doorknob. Sure enough, as Barry had anticipated, there stood Mike Green with their two boys. "You boys look like you've been up all night!" Barry chided, seeing shopping bags under their eyes. "That's because," fifteen year old Eric replies, "we haven't gotten a wink of sleep." Tom follows through, portraying the look of dead-tiredness, "That's because we have been up all night," he looks at Officer Green. Still standing at the door, the conversation carries inside. "Man, I didn't believe what we had to do," Eric complains. Tom helps, "Yeah, I thought they had cleaning services to wash the jons." "Y'know, Officer Green says in prison, they don't have a service to come in and clean? The prisoners do it all?" Steve blurts out, "Sounds like the army!" "Well, it's for sure," Tom cues them in, "if it's in my power, there's nothing I'm going to do to get me inside those walls," he infers, a prison. "Me neither!" Eric agrees. "Dads, can I go get a shower now?" Eric, compelled to do the same, agrees, "Yeah, we're all grimy and sweaty." "You may," Barry answers. Steve adds, as the boys scoot by, being careful to step over Scruffy, "And then you can jump into your Sunday clothes?" "Oooh, do we have to go to church?" Eric stands there, the same look on his face, the reaction Tom gave, asking. "Yes, you still have to go to church," Barry lets on. Steve adds, "And boys?" "Yeah, dad?" They look at each other, saying the same thing at the same time, then to dad-Steve. "You're both grounded until further notice?" Both knew it was coming and didn't have a problem with it. As they headed to their room, Steve and Barry headed outside, walking Mike to his patrol car. "I think the boys got the message," Mike tells the dads. As Steve holds the reins, Scruffy lifts his leg against the tree. "It took them almost all night," he continues telling them, "to clean the precinct jon, but I have to admit they did do a good job. I did allow them a few winks, so you can lighten up on them a bit." "Let's hope this is the last time they see the inside of a police station, Mike." Barry adds to Steve's observation, "Yes, I agree. It seems your community help project did them some good." "Well, not to get too raunchy on you fellows, but sometimes the officers, like myself have a bare few seconds to run in, take a leak and hightail it back out. There's a lot of `misses'!" The three had a laugh, even though it came at Tom's and Eric's expense, having to clean the four stalls and six urinals, plus sinks, walls and floors, taking them all night. "Mike, I'm real thankful you had been there to help out." "Don't think you're not getting billed," Mike replies. "You owe the city two toothbrushes and a can of cleanser." Another burst of laughter escaped the three. However, even though Mike joked about the cleaning utensils, he meant it, talking about when fund drive time came along. "Oh, by the way," Steve interjects, standing at the side of Mike's unrolled window, "I heard about Terrence Beethoven." "You did, did you?" Mike looks up to Barry. On the side, Barry asks, "Well, you wouldn't keep something like this from `your' partner, would you?" "Oh, was that supposed to be a secret between us, babe?" Steve questions his lover. "Not anymore, it's not." "Oh, I'm so sorry babe." In a hurry, Mike lets on, "No, I don't suppose I would," referring to telling his partner, Gary Roberts anything that didn't require the highest secrecy. "Look, I've been on the clock for eighteen hours..." But Barry didn't let him finish, saying, "Okay, we'll let you go Mike." Both dads took his hand, thanking him, assuring him back that what he had done for them seemed to have a great effect on the boys. Mike warned back for them to keep a keen on them anyhow. As Mike circles the small cul-de-sac, Steve asks Barry, "You don't think the boys will try that again, do you hon?" "Hmm... peer pressure can be pretty tough. Tomorrow morning I'd like the heads of every department in a special meeting, in my office. I'm sure Agnes would not mind me calling her at home to arrange it ahead of time." "Are you kidding, Barry? If I know Agnes and I've known her longer than you, she'll have them in your office at the break of dawn!" "Might be a good idea." Steve laughed. It seems that lately Barry has been on the same wavelength as Agnes, going beyond the call of duty, arriving early or staying after school, to get the job done. As they walked Scruffy, Steve gloated in the knowledge, in a more personable sense. Throughout the year he sensed many a time how deeply caring a human being Barry is and it made him feel all good inside knowing he was `his man'! "What's on your mind, Steve?" "Oh, nothing." "You're awfully quiet for nothing. Usually you're talking up a storm and it's me being accused of giving the silent treatment. So, what's up?" "What's up, huh?" Taking Barry's right hand in his left, Steve interpets Barry's question by leaning in, saying, "This is what's up..." He proceeds to match up his lips with Barry's. To the side of Desert View Lane, the street they live on, the two embrace, as Scruffy sniffs at the bushes. The sounds of a car engine warns them, just in time, of it's approach. "Well, well, well. Will you look at that," Barry comments. Sailing by them, Terrence Beethoven and Rick Angelozzi wave `hello', with a light touch to the horn. Steve and Barry offer a wave in return. % "Good morning, gentlemen!" Chad and Matty, heads still buried, faced down in their pillows, slowly do a half pushup with their left arms, turning to the voice before them. "Coffee before church?" "Enrique, don't you ever take a day off?" The thirty-four year old latino, spiffed up in his usual black outfit, ironed white shirt and bow tie, stands there with the tray of hot coffee mugs. "Of course I do. A little at a time, as we've agreed, sir?" More geared to the upstanding hierarchy of English butlery, the Latino stands there, waiting for the two to turnover and accept his morning offering. "I thought that maybe since you requested that I wake you at seven thirty that..." First Chad starts in on Matty, then Matty in on Chad, each accusing the other of informing Enrique of waking them up at the ungodly hour. Enrique sets the tray down and proceeds to leave for the kitchen. Soon the two discover that their target, for argue's sake, has disappeared. "Where'd he go?" "You scared him off," Chad tells his mate. "Me?" But then, the two lying there, looking at each other, turned towards each other's buff bod, forget all about their differences. Matty, glancing at Chad's stomach, admits, "Hee hee... looks like I did get a little carried away with your navel last night, Preppy!" Chad's attention swoops down his stomach, his fingertips pressing in on his belly trail, to look. "'Told you there was teethmarks, but you didn't believe me!" "Sorry," Matty replies, smiling, knowing he's already forgiven. "Next time just tongue fuck it?" "Yeah, sure," Matty replies. Like so many other times, their making up results in a bond, sealed with a kiss. "Ahem!" The two quit their lip locking and look towards the door. "Breakfast will be served hot in ten minutes... cold in fifteen!" Doing his disappearing act, Matty and Chad hop out of bed. From experience, the two know that when Enrique informs them of the hot and cold statistics, he's right on the nose. Sure, it took a couple of times of `hard knocks' for the eighteen and twenty year olds to figure out that oatmeal can turn cold in fifteen minutes time and that Enrique was right on the mark. "Shower?" "You heard what Enrique said, doofus!" Chad scolded Matty, as if he should know better. He should! % As Mike Green headed home, anxious to greet his mate, shower, shave, maybe get a quick cat's nap - in that order, he traveled rather quickly through the twenty-five mile per hour zone of the local neighborhood. "Oh shit!" he called out, whacking hiself on the side of the head. It's only three days ago that he helped set up the roadside speed sign, one that flashed an oncoming car's speed, in digital red lighting. Residents had complained of the dirt flying, fallout from speeders on the busiest road in the housing community, Bridges Lane. Now Mike became the biggest offender. Slowing, he stare forward, then through the rear view, looking out for anyone who might be able to incriminate him. He breathed easier knowing he was alone on the road. That is until something moved, towards the side of the speed machine. Mike's first impression was a bear, which could spell danger to the neighborhood famous for it's joggers, but also to the ordinary resident. He stepped on the brake and backed up. Getting out of the patrol car, he unsnapped his gun pouch, readying if he had to pull the trigger on what could be the first time for Mike upon meeting this type of critter. Thinking it the lack of sleep, a delusion, he shook his head, sensing nothing visually. However, upon hearing a snapping of twigs, Mike became more attuned to reality. He stepped from the curb, on the alert as he parted the bushes at the side of the road. "What tha?" Mike stood there, gazing. "You aren't gonna hurt us, Mr. Policeman, are you?" The younger one asked. Unlike what the encounter with a bear would be like, it wasn't the first time Mike had found children by themselves. Right away he knew these two weren't of the West Richlan area. "Come on out of there, you two," Mike called out. "I'm not going to hurt you." The two boys, looking to be about nine, the other late teens, stood up from their knees. "Stay behind me," the older one said, pushing the younger boy behind him. Seeing the reason for their caution, Mike relaxed, taking his hand off his gun holster. "Where are you boys... from?" Mike hesitated, when he realized both boys wore shoes or sneakers that looked like they had been fifty years old. Bare feet could be seen through the splitting sides. "We're not from around here," the older teen did the talking. "That's obvious. I'm Mike. Mike Green." Instead of an introduction, the usual polite thing in return, the older teen asks, "You got anything to eat?" Popping out from behind, the younger lad confesses, "Yeah, we ain't eat anything for a week!" "Week? Is that how long you boys have been...." The youngster added, before Mike could finish, "A coupla months..." "Shut up, Seth," the older one said, pushing Seth and his opinions back behind him. "I live up the road, if you boys are hungry." The teen made it plain, "If you don't got anything on ya, we'll be on our way." Thinking quick, trying to outfox the obviously smart, but frightened stranger, Mike says, "The weatherman's predicting a late day shower. Feet exposed to cold rain and wind will turn your toes to ice cubes, in no time." Seth makes another appearance, asking Mike, "Do toes really get to be ice cubes, mister?" Trying to keep his cool with the teen, Mike couldn't help but break down his guard over Seth's innocent inquiry. "No, they don't really," he answered, kneeling down on one knee, to bring himself to Seth's height. "But the way it looks, these shoes are going to get mighty soaked when they hit a big puddle." Seth tugged on the teen companion's pants leg, saying, "I think we can trust this one, Luke." The one Seth called Luke, toyed with the option, keeping his cool, as he looked down at thirty-seven year old police officer. Staring up, Mike responded, "No hassles. You're free to come to my place for a bite to eat," then looking down at Luke's feet, "give you a new pair of shoes, then you're free to go." He knew for a fact that trying to make runaways stay put, wouldn't fare well. "Let me get this straight," Luke opened up, "you're gonna give us some grub and something better for our feet..." Mike shook his head up and down, signifying `yes'. "Then we can get on our way?" "That's the deal," Mike told him. "Hmm," the sandy blonde youth stewed it over. "Luke, this one we can trust. I knowed we can, Luke!" Seth continued jerking on Luke's pants. "You're not gonna try anything stupid, are you?" Mike thought, `Hey, that's my line', but with a sense of question, decided to nix the jokes and replied seriously, "That's right." It became tough to contain Seth to the back seat, as he kept leaning over the seat to interrogate Mike, as Luke sat back and watched nature go by. "Hey, mister, you got any bacon and eggs?" "Oh yes. Plenty. Sounds like you're real hungry. When did you say was the last time you ate?" It's Seth this time who got the pull on the pants, as he lurched backwards, with a word of warning from Luke, "That's enough talk!" "Oh c'mon, Luke. He's not like that other policeman." Mike looked in the backseat, from the rearview, wondering what that piece of the puzzle was about. After a brief silence, looking to Seth, then at Mike's eyes in the rearview mirror, Luke blurts out, "We ain't had nothin' to eat in four days." Seth opens up with, "A policemen's give us some food." With a sarcastic frame of mind, Luke reports, "Yeah'n'that ain't all they gave us to eat." Right away, Mike is filled with a multitude of thoughts. Fortunately he had reached the street he lived on, Fern Drive. Pulling in the roundabout driveway, he toots the horn. "What's that? Some kind of signal?" Luke asks, going for the door handle, suspicious. "Right," Mike agrees. "Let's the household know I'm home." Then, looking out through the window, Luke questions, "That your son?" Spotting Zach, Mike reacts, "I guess you can say that. My partner's nephew, but I treat him like my own." "You live with another policeman?" Seth asks, thinking of another uniformed man. "No." Before Mike can explain, Zach around the side of the car. "Want to pop the trunk? I'll help you out with the..." As has been the routine, Mike tooted for all the available help, rounded up to take in groceries. Tilting his torso, Zach looks through the backseat window. "Who are these guys?" For the moment, Mike's words are lost on unhearing ears, as Zach stares straight through the glass, into Luke's eyes. From the inside view, the likewise takes place. That is, until Seth's stomach grows impatient. Going for the door handle, he falls over Luke's lap, almost tumbling out of the patrol car. "Whooooooa, easy there fellow!" Zach calls out. Helping Seth make his exit, half of Zach's attention keeps revisiting the teen in the backseat. "You alright?" "Hey, thanks mister," the nine year old calls out. Instead of introducing himself, Zach overrides Seth and extends a hand to Luke, "I'm Zach Roberts." Luke sits there, offering not a visual or emotional response. Mike decides to take the helm. "The boys are hungry, Zach." Withdrawing the courtesy, Zach responds, "Yeah. Okay." Backing off, Zach loses the gleam that shown in his eye. "Um, Uncle Gary has breakfast on," Zach replies, breaking his vision entirely, with Luke. "C'mon," he motions to Seth, taking the kid's hand, "we have plenty to eat." Mike hovers over the open back door of the patrol car, offering, "You coming, or leaving on an empty stomach there, Luke?" Putting the question aside, Luke turns to, "Is Zach gay like you?" Knowing he never straight out said it, yet admitting it, he replies, "Yes." The fact that Zach made an appearance, quelled some of the doubt in Luke's mind. Slowly he emerged from the patrol car. However, Mike could tell that something terribly disturbing remained with Luke. Being quick to guess, it had to do with the image of his uniform and not the person wearing it. It piqued his interest to find out why. % 9 Continued..... Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.