The Rogue and the Runaway

Copyright© 2014 – Nicholas Hall


Chapter Twelve

"The Reckoning "


"The sight of you is good for sore eyes."

(Jonathon Swift)


Seth's recovery was not without stress and trial! There were many chores to be attended to during the winter, such as repairing his fishing nets and box traps, along with trotline, oiling and storing his metal traps he'd used during the recent trapping season. I didn't have a clue how to go about doing any of those things, but with him hobbling around on a walking cast (with me supporting him since he had a broken wing and ribs besides) I was able to oil the traps and hang them on the wooden pegs he'd fixed on the walls of the shop. It kept them out of the way, but visible so fresh oil could be applied if any signs of rust might appear. Seth really liked to keep his equipment in top condition, along with his traps, nets, and other gear. I rather liked his equipment to stay in top condition and snuggled my sweet little butt on it every chance I got.

Fortunately for me (and Seth), his nephews Steve (Joe Jr.'s oldest) and JR Hayes (Cook's oldest grandson) were good friends at school and were only too happy to help out on weekends and learn how to repair and make nets and other gear essential to commercial fishing. Before we knew it, we had most of the older Burridge and Hayes boys billeted at the house on weekends learning the fine arts of the trade their Uncle Seth engaged in. The house echoed with boy noises, laughter, and just plain damn good fun! They all got along so well and were so well-mannered and behaved it was just a joy to have them around. The only drawback was Seth and I had to curb our horniness until Sunday night after the boys went home, then we fucked like minks! Well, that was after he'd laved my sweet penis with his tongue, rolled my balls about in his mouth, tickled my little pucker with his finger, then his lips until I was begging him to take me to the finish line! Once my legs were splayed, he slowly loaded that beautiful instrument of pleasure in my rectum, and began pumping slowly at first, then gaining speed as he raced us both to our climax. Seth seemed to spurt and spurt and spurt some more when he came. The bulbous head of his dick would swell inside me with each throbbing ejaculation. Life was at its best when he was embedded inside me as we finished our love-making and fell asleep!

When the boys were there for the weekend, Seth, with my assistance, maneuvered out the shop where he ensconced himself on a chair and instructed and supervised our teenage assistants. Granted, when the lads first started, the repairs had to be repeated until done correctly, but young minds, nimble fingers, and enthusiasm soon had our shop humming! As they worked, they chided each other, complimented their work, and carried on that playful banter of teenage boys. I could see stronger ties of friendship and support building each weekend they were at the house. Seth and I let the boys determine their own sleeping arrangements and if, in the morning, there would be two in the same sleeping bag, we made no mention of it and neither did they. Horny boys will be horny boys!

Cook just couldn't stand to be left out of all of this so some weekends she'd ride out with JR and the crew and spend Friday night and Saturday, helping me fix the large meals and snacks the boys would devour. Saturday evening, I'd drive her back to Debbie and Carl's. I really enjoyed having her there helping me and chatting away. She was in her element the whole time she was at the house. She loved to cook and I loved her!

Gus had to poke his nose into things every now and again and when he did, one of the boys would pet him. He loved to be petted but he really loved having his tummy rubbed. He had a habit of lying on his back, spreading his front and hind legs wide when someone rubbed his tummy. The boys thought it was hilarious and had some rather uncomplimentary things to say about his position. Gus didn't care; he was getting all of the attention he wanted! Seth whispered softly in my ear one time while Gus was being entertained; "Looks just like someone else I know," and slipped his hand down the back of my pants to engage a finger in my tight pucker.

Spring was upon us, along with fishing and planting season, before we knew it. JR and Steve thought on weekends Seth needed help on the river so they became regular weekend guests. The other boys, not wanting to be left out, drifted in and out on various weekends, but more in than out. Seth joked we'd become an annex of the YMCA, but was totally happy with it. He really did need the help, since, although his leg and arm were healed, he hadn't gained full strength in them as yet. I accompanied him on the river during the week, helping where I could, but the boys were the biggest help.

There'd been some minor spring flooding from the snow and ice run-off up north, but nothing out of the ordinary. About all it really did at home was flood the bottoms and drive some rattlesnakes out of the low country onto high ground, making us cautious when wandering around the yard or working in the garden. When Seth was away working on the farms, Gus was my constant companion, never letting me out of his sight. It was nice having him around I must admit. He was pretty damned special to me ever since the day he led us to Seth last winter.

The day finally arrived Seth announced he was strong enough to go it on his own fishing the river. Planting season was in full swing, so he divided his time between fishing and working on the farm. I spent my time running errands for him, carrying lunches, and putting in a larger garden. Cook said it would not only provide us with fresh vegetables ("healthy eatin' for all those boys you got hangin' around," she announced), but would be good exercise for me as well as relaxing. She was right of course!

School was out for the summer shortly after the middle of May and JR and Steve worked out a deal with Seth to run his lines and box traps while he worked on the farm; then help him on days he didn't. He helped them get licensed as Commercial Fisher Helper and the paid them shares of the sale of each days catch. On days they worked alone, he paid them a higher share. When I asked why he didn't give them all of the proceeds for those days, he patiently explained he was furnishing the equipment and the gas for the motor, as well as negotiating the market prices. The boys understood it quite well; I guess it was just me that didn't. Gus; he really didn't give a good rat's ass!

JR and Steve were learning a business and way of life they seemed interested in and made some good money as well. I could only imagine as each group of Burridge or Hayes boys got old enough, there were bound to be some who would want to step in their place and make some bucks also.

Life was so good with Seth on `Pinicon Ridge, I'd just about forgotten my life before marrying him, although once in a while, I'd have a flashback of some incident which had caused me great distress or pain while living with my parents. I wondered if they'd forgotten about me, not discovered where I was living, or just decided to abandon me as a "lost cause" and one of "Satan's spawn." If I mentioned it to Cook, she'd just roll her eyes and murmur, "Davie, honey chil', don't you think for one minute that Momma of yours done forgot. She be one powerful vengeful woman. You just keep an eye open; you hear?"

Mid-June Gus started acting spooky for a couple of days! All of a sudden his ears would perk up and he'd leave my side if we were in the house and wander out onto the porch and sniff the air as if checking out the surroundings. Once satisfied, he'd walk back in, but sit almost protectively near me. I figured it was probably a coyote or some other wild critter prowling around outside, although I looked, I couldn't see anything that should be alarming him. Once, during the night, I heard him growl; a low, menacing, threatening growl and he came into our bedroom, hair bristled high on his neck and back, obviously ready to do battle with whatever upset him. Seth shushed him, but Gus lay down on my side of the bed, head up and ears twitching.

The next morning, the boys, when preparing to go out and run lines, acknowledged they'd heard Gus growling and they both looked out the bedroom window, but saw nothing. Seth was going up to one of the farms to rake some hay he'd cut the day before in order to speed it's drying in the mid-day and afternoon sun. No rain was predicted for several days, so he hoped they could get it baled into regular square bales rather than the big round ones, before the weekend. The younger Burridge and Hayes boys would ride the hayracks and stack bales giving them a chance to earn some extra bucks. Seth promised if he was done early and the boys were back from fishing, we'd go out for supper thus saving me from fixing a meal that night.

Working in the garden consumed most of my morning. Gus, by my side or in the way part of time, was edgy the entire time, pacing inside the garden fence, yet never venturing far from me. His nervousness was really grating on my nerves and my patience, but, knowing Gus as I do, I didn't take it lightly. Close to noon, I broke for lunch and started toward the house, after making certain the gate to the garden was closed to prevent deer and rabbits from munching on the vegetables I had growing within. Walking toward the house, Gus by my side, nearing the porch, he growled and the hair stood up on his neck and back signaling his displeasure and a possible warning to me.

About to reprimand him for his behavior, since I saw nothing to be wary of, I heard the unmistakable "thrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" of a rattlesnake vibrating the dry rattles on the end of its tail, warning Gus and me we were closer than it wanted us to be. Grasping Gus's collar to keep him from taking on the deadly reptile, I stood quietly, looked around carefully seeking the whereabouts of the critter and while I did, it slithered out from under the steps into the drive, stopped, and coiled itself again, it's tail sticking up the from center of the coiled, shaking its deadly, rhythmic tune!

Ordering Gus to "sit- stay" I moved the sharp garden hoe from my shoulder, gripped it with both hands, and slowly approached the deadly serpent! As I closed the gap between the reptile and me, its warning became more intense; the snake's head raised, the forked, red tongue flicked about seeking the warmth radiated by a potential victim, foe, or meal, ready to strike, and sink its sharp, curved fangs into flesh, and begin injecting poison. Instead of the snake striking, I did! My blow with the blade of the hoe was true, quick, and clean, decapitating the deadly critter, leaving the body writhing and flopping in the dirt as if seeking the now gone head.

Ordering Gus to "heel," we walked to the house and once he was safely inside, I went back outside, retrieved a shovel from the shed, scooped up the snake head, and buried it. I, using the shovel, flipped the body of the snake off toward the side of the drive. The crows and other critters would make short work of the carcass. It was a pretty good sized snake and I thought, if Seth got home before the carcass disappeared, he just might like to skin it out, tan the skin, and sell it. There always seems to be a market for such novelties and this year there seemed to be plenty of rattlesnakes to satisfy the market.

Satisfied, for the moment, I was safe, I wandered back into the house where Gus greeted me with much tail wagging and wiggling.

"There," I said to him, "now you should calm down. Those damned snakes have been more than plentiful this year, haven't they?"

Gus just waggled his tail more, really not understanding what I was saying, but pleased I was pleased and talking to him. For being such a good dog, warning me of the snake, I thought he deserved a treat and gave him one of his favorite dog biscuits. That seemed to suit him just fine and he retired to a rug in the living room to munch away on it.

Lunch finished, I decided I needed a nap and sought repose on the couch, Gus stretched out on the rug beside me. An hour or so later, I was awakened by Gus growling, low, deep in his throat warning whatever it was to steer clear. My eyes popped open in time to see two guys come in through the door! Gus snarled, stood, bared his teeth, the hair on his neck and back erect, ready to attack. I grabbed him by the collar before he could lunge at the intruders since, grasped in the right hand of one of them, was a very nasty looking pistol pointed at either me or Gus.

"Hold back the dog, boy," he snarled, "or he's one dead mutt; yah hear me, boy?"

Oh, I heard him alright and recognized him as one of the people who worked for my father and mother as an "administrative assistant"; hah! Assistant my ass; he was nothing more than a thug with a gun and background in some shady security work. He was one mean mother-fucker and I really didn't want to tangle with him at the moment! I didn't have a clue who the other fellow was, but I was willing to bet he was just as nasty.

"I need to leash him," I announced and pointed toward the leash hanging by the door. The other guy spotted and tossed it to me. I snapped it to Gus's collar and wrapped the leash around my right arm, securing him close to my side. As I hooked him up, I wondered how the two thugs (since that's what they were as far as I was concerned) were able to get on to the porch and into the house without me hearing them drive up. They must have walked down the lane. It wasn't the first time they'd been here, I conjured. It just might explain Gus's uneasiness at night and other times. He'd probably heard them prowling around reconnoitering our place.

How in hell did these thugs find me?

My mind was in a turmoil, my nerves jangled, and my stomach was experiencing a roller coaster of ups, downs, and suppressed heaves, threatening to erupt into a Vesuvius disgorging of its contents. My fears for my own safety were secondary to my fears for the welfare and lives of Seth and the boys. If they appeared at an inopportune time, it was hard to say what might happen to them!

I knew one thing for certain, even though I was unsure of other things, the presence of these two Neanderthals was directly related to my escape from the tormented and emotional mental prison I'd been confined to for the generous portion of my life.

"You've been a bad boy," growled the thug I'd recognized, "and your Momma is quite upset with you. So why don't you just sit down on the couch and relax for a moment. Oh, and keep a short lease on your doggy friend if you want him to remain here on earth."

Nodding his head to his accomplice, "Check out the place; his boyfriend is supposed to be gone, but don't take any chances."

Doing as he was ordered, first the bedrooms, then the bathroom, closets, and storage rooms were checked before he gave the "all clear" before stepping to the front door, spoke into a radio microphone attached to his left wrist, and waited by the open door.

Gus's ears perked up again (as well as mine) when we heard the crunch of vehicle tires approaching down the gravel driveway before coming to stop in front of the house. I heard one car door shut and moments later, another, which gave me cause to think at least two people exited the vehicle. Moments later, the sneering face of Mommy dear entered into my view as she walked into my house!

She looked around our house, inspecting it as if she was viewing or entering a homeless bedsit under a traffic bridge, fearful she might step in something, before uttering with disgust, "How pathetic!" Looking at me, she simply said, with obvious distain, "and so are you!"

Before I could reply, she beckoned one of her lackeys to bring her a chair from the kitchen table and, after having him wipe it off with his handkerchief, as if there was dirt or germs on it, sat her sorry, mean ass down!

"I suppose," she announced loudly, her eyebrows furled and lips twisted with hate, "that sorry perverted piece of humanity you've been co-habitating with is off buggering those young boys the two of you have enticed into living here with you or do you share the little boy-whores in kind of a round-robin love-fest?"

That remark really pissed me! I started to come up off of the couch, Gus growled and bared his teeth, ready to join me in combat, ripping the bitch to shreds.

"If either David or the dog moves anymore," she ordered briskly and nodding toward the man with the gun, "shoot the dog, then teach that sorry piece of dung I birthed as a son, a lesson!"

I stopped, free hand raised in the air, "Don't shoot," I shouted, "don't shoot! I'll lock him up in the bedroom."

She nodded again to the gunman and with him following, I dragged an unwilling Gus to our bedroom and pulled the door shut.

Once again seated on the couch, Mother, from her chair, said icily, "David, you took something from me and I want it back! Before you left, you accessed your father's computer and, if the experts are correct when they examined it, you made a copy of a very personal file. I want that copy, you hear me boy?"

The menacing tone of her voice and the determined look on her face convinced me if I didn't get it for her, I just might find myself at the bottom of the Wapsi, feeding the fish or something worse.

"If you don't get it now," she continued, hate dripping on every word, "my people will search the house and if we don't find it then, we'll all just sit patiently and wait for your faggot friends to return and take our time convincing you how serious we are as we question them by inflicting what is known in some cultures as `death by a thousand cuts.' Do I make myself clear?"

I blanched at her threat and she saw it, knowing then I'd retrieve the copy for her. "It's in the desk," I confessed and pointed toward Seth's desk, "in the center drawer."

The second "administrative assistant" walked over to the desk, dumped the contents of the drawer on the top, shuffled items aside until he located the flash drive.

"This it?"

I nodded.

"Check it out!" Mother ordered and waited while he took it outside, I assumed to check its authenticity with a lap top.

As we waited for him, I asked, "How did you find me?"

She just smirked. "I knew you'd be tempted to license that damned truck of yours and get a driver's license once you landed somewhere; after that, it was simple. Well, not that simple since I had the staff check state by state until yours popped up here in Iowa. We back checked with our own DMV to make certain you'd surrendered the license there."

She was so smug and was going to continue when the other man came back in and announced the flash drive contained the file they were concerned about. He handed it to her and she grunted her approval.

I just couldn't resist, so I said, with faux humility and ignorance, "I never thought of the truck. I thought you might have found me through our marriage license."

The look on her face was priceless; she didn't have a fucking clue Seth and I was married! Mommy wasn't so damned smart after all. Her face first blanched, then reddened, and finally, purple with rage and disgust, she shouted, "What?"

I smiled bittersweet at her, calmly replying, "Seth and I are legally married; that makes him your son-in-law, mother dear!"

Man, did the shit hit the fan at my last remark! She called me everything but nice and a few other things as well. Her tirade lasted about three minutes before pointing at one of her henchmen, snarling, "Take him with us. He's going to take a long, secret rest in a rehabilitation center and get these perverted, satanic urges purged from him."

As the thug stepped toward me, I spotted Poppa Joe's smiling face peek around through the open door, wink, and rather loudly, "Peek-a-Boo!" followed by the "thrrrrrrrrrrr" of dry rattles vibrating on a snakes tail.

Mother and the two dolts, swiveled their head in his direction and was met with even a louder shout of "RATTLESNAKE!" from Poppa Joe as he slung a flopping, large, rattlesnake in the direction of the thug with the gun. The snake landed, draped around the man's neck, and he began screaming, clutching at the beast, and dropped his gun in the process. It was easy for me to see the attacking snake that Poppa Joe tossed in his direction was the one I'd dispatched prior to coming into the house, but I wasn't going to tell him that!

He finally grasped the snake and gave it a toss, sending it in mother's direction. The snake, hurling through the air, flipping and flopping, made a three point landing right on mother's lap. It was at that moment, I discovered Mother was deathly afraid of snakes because, in the brief moments before the dead snake slid to the floor, her eyes widened, her bladder opened, and she pissed herself; and not just a little bit, I might add!

While Niagara was cascading between her thighs, forming an ever increasingly large puddle, quick as a cat, Seth bolted into the room, wrapped an arm around her neck, holding her fast; while in his other hand, secured tightly behind its dangerously equipped head, tongue flicking seeking a prey, held a very angry rattlesnake, mouth open, ready to strike. Seth held it menacingly close to her face; close enough if he moved just a mite, the snake could inflict its deadly poison into her. The beast was wrapped about his arm, constricting, moving, and shaking its rattle!

"Don't like snakes do you, mother-in-law dear," Seth mocked. "Apparently, you think pissing your pants will frighten him away. How wrong you are concerning that, among other things. Now tell your boys to discard their weapons and put their hands over their heads like good little boys."

She just nodded and they did as they were instructed.

"I think there's another one in the car!" I exclaimed excitedly.

"Ah, don't worry about him," Poppa Joe happily exclaimed, "your brother-in-law, Joe Jr. had him well under wraps."

"Now," Seth continued, addressing my mother, "you have what you came for Mrs. Fleming. If you don't agree to take the flash drive and your cohorts with you and leave us alone, I'll just toss you and this overly friendly snake into a dark closet."

"She won't," I shouted. "She'll come back just as sure as shit stinks. Don't trust her for one minute!"

"Oh, my love," Seth replied in a serious, promising tone, "she won't return; because if she does or ever bother us again, she'll be sorry. You see," he said, looking directly into her big eyes and moving the snake even closer, "if she does, then some dark night, when she least expects it; when the day had been almost picture perfect and she thinks all is well and she is safe from the evils of the world, tucked away sleeping soundly in her bed, I'll come calling, carrying a sack full of my little friends here," and waved the snake back and forth in front of her.

"While you're dreaming of high political office, drinking Champaign with the governors of states, I'll slink closer to your bed, carefully lift the corner of the covers, and slip the sack of snakes into it with you. Smiling in your dreams, believing it is the soft caressing of a man's hands and fingers, they will slither up your body, tickling your breast, and seeking the warmth of your nether parts, exciting you and bringing moans of ecstasy aloud from your lips."

Mother's eyes were as wide as wide as they could be. The urine on the floor and coating her body and clothes reeking as Seth then asked, "Do you know what I will do then, Mother-in-law dear?"

She slowly wobbled her head from side to side, keeping her head transfixed on the snake in his hands.

"I'll shake the fucking bed!" he growled.

It was then we all discovered how really, really, frightened of snakes she was. We heard the rumbling, tumbling, boiling sound begin in her stomach, followed by the flatulence discharge of fecal matter, loose, watery, disgustingly foul in odor, discharge from her bowels, and she fainted!

Seth stepped back from the repulsiveness of her body, turned to the gunman accompanying her, and said simply, "Haul this filth from our house and leave."

Within three minutes, they had her inert body out the door, and into the black suburban and was heading down the road.

To be continued:


Thank you for reading Chapter Twelve- The Rogue and the Runaway –"The Reckoning"- "The sight of you is good for sore eyes."

(Jonathon Swift)


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Nick Hall

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