Date: Sun, 31 Aug 2003 21:00:29 -0400
From: A. Cheshire Cat <kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com>
Subject: summerjustice

Regular disclaimers apply.
It's got a plot, so you might enjoy it a bit more.
Comments are greatly appreciated: kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com


Summer Justice
August 31, 2003
By: A. Cheshire Catt

Chapter One

For lack of a better way to begin, one should just assume that it was all
meant to happen this way. The story of Jay Goshen began the day his father
raped his mother in a dark alley in the city then took her to the cabin on
the hill where the child she would have could live without any way to know
where he came from. The story of Jay Goshen would have been simple, except
he's human. His eyes reflect in a window at night as the people renting the
cabin at the bottom of the hill move in. As we find him, he is a prisoner in
Paradise. ...
They'd slipped in just before a torrential thunderstorm blasted the region
with enough rain to wash roads out and make puddles out of the lawns. The
winds blew as ferociously as Asian dragon snores, the sky was as black as
opium seeds in the heart of the bloodiest poppy, the thunder was as crisp as
the clash of gods' justice being delivered and the lightning stirred
spiritual astonishments from the minds of dozing men all around. The
neighbors had rented the cabin down the road for a few weeks that summer and
though no one really ever associates with the people who do so, it always
seemed of absolute urgency to know something about them. With their arrival
during that massive storm it seemed eerily enigmatic, like the movement of
curious shadows in the night, and unlike years before when the neighbors
would come up to introduce themselves, these tenants moved in like
mythology.
The cabin's nearest neighbor was a small shack on top of the hill. The shack
used to be a cabin as well but it was renovated into a home many years
before. This was where Jasper and his son, Jay, lived. Jasper was a dealer
in the nearest city. He dealt in the business of marijuana and had
connections to chemicals for the party circuit. It was a lucrative industry.
Dangerous at best, perilously close at any moment to being swept away by the
law, it was his livelihood and it provided for his son and himself anything
they so desired. But, growing the plants, keeping the supply ready for the
constant and constantly growing demand, made for a busy schedule. Jasper was
often away in the city delivering to his lower ranking dealers, handling
business deals, bribes with club-owners, dealing with a connection to the
local mafia that kept his business (not to mention he and his son) alive and
well.
The shack and the cabin down the hill were the only two structures within
about a ten mile radius, despite the odd hunt camp or abandoned campsite. It
was a lovely area in the thick boreal forests of the Canadian Shield. There
was a lake, deep and clear and calm, about a five minute drive from these
shacks, but the road was dangerous and really only Jasper and his son knew
of this lake enough to use it regularly. Jasper used to take his son there
when he was younger, when Julia was still alive. That was back at the end of
the 80's, back when coke and heroin were the big things and weed was just a
high school kid's habit. It was during one of the cold Canadian winter
nights, when the road was poorly maintained and the hope of ambulance was
next to impossible that Julia died of a heroin overdose while Jay was
sleeping. Jay was only four when this had happened and any reference to her
is generally out of jealousy of his father for having known her and Jay
having not really at all.
He believed that his father was a good man. He'd grown up enough to know
what his father was doing. He knew it was all illegal and that his life and
the security he felt where he lived was all based on the money of criminals.
But he was also growing up in a time of tolerance. He was the dealer's son.
He would grow up knowing a crowd that would take care of him no matter what,
surely, he lived like a hermit, never going into a town or city, but like an
animal, like a spirit conjured by Canadian weather.
He read books. He ordered them, received them in the mail. He was well-read
in fact. No mere modern novels with manufactured plots nor any of the sappy
classical stuff by men who wrote what they were taught, but stuff from the
nineteenth and early twentieth century. Translations of French, Russian,
Austrian even Chinese lined his shelf. His mother had loved reading and
because his son had picked up the habit, Jasper allowed his son to carry on
as such. He was thoroughly autocratic but ignorant also, sadly. The outside
world, the world that brought people to the cabin down the hill every
summer, was a bit of a mystery. A bit of a mystery? Actually, it was the
greatest mystery. The world brought people and took them away. The world was
wondrous with what it provided, sometimes ruthless with what it took away,
and sometimes scary and he didn't mind staying there. He took comfort in his
solitude.
Julia was buried in the lawn. A large chunk of white marble marked the spot.
The stone is barely visible now, the irises have clumped themselves around
it. The garden sprawled across the majority of the lawn. This was quickly
becoming Jay's area of specialty. Horticulture, the art of gardening,
organizing life into rows and rows of both aestheticism and utilitarianism
was like sport for Jay. The Green House is his father's territory, but his
father lets him start seedlings in there in the spring and do some potting
and cleaning of bulbs in the fall.
The night of the storm, for example, the night the neighbors moved in,
Jasper's friends had come out for a deal. This entailed a large consumption
of chemicals and smoke at an unhealthy rate even for these dolts who came.
Large, hulking characters, sweating and hairy, confused and constantly in
need of liquid refreshment, they were his father's top connections. These
weren't kids. These were men. But Jay was always bored by their debauchery
and tended to fade off into the background, perhaps once or twice appearing
for a drink or a smoke, but never getting to know them. This house on the
hill had a reputation in the city as being one of the most beautiful places
in all the Western Hemisphere. They'd arrived in the early evening and spent
the night roaring, laughing maniacally, cursing and rejoicing and acting
like angels who knew not of their own dementia.
No one ever teased Jay. They weren't allowed. Jasper was their king, or one
better, they were all kings, but Jasper was the Pope to them. If Jasper was
the Pope, Jay must have been like the Vatican's janitor, like Caesar's
barber.
They'd stayed over night, sleeping on the couches and lazy-boy, and in the
spare bedroom, only because of the storm. They left first thing in the
morning. The birds were singing and the sun was shining. The garden was in
need of some tending because of the harsh winds and rains, but other than a
few creeks in the road there was no damage to worry about. When Jay got up
the radio was on. He listened to the weather. It was going to be hot for
some time, getting hotter and hotter, with more and more humidity, and smog
advisories for the cities. Jay had never seen or smelled smog even once in
his life. He lay in bed for some time. He preferred the classical music
station most of the time when he was alone. Most of the time, when not
reading or listening to the news, Jay lived entirely without language,
without words. Sometimes it seemed he was more animal than boy. Sometimes it
seemed he was ancient more than being eighteen.
It was eight o'clock in the morning. He could hear the cars leaving, taking
the kingpins back to their palaces in the city. The Pope could be heard
bidding them safe journeys. The janitor just rolled over and looked out the
window. He was sometimes so lonely he could hear the silence bouncing off
the panes like the echoed sighs of a Narcissus without a puddle. Sometimes
he forgot he was lonely because he had nothing to compare it to. Sometimes
he wanted to cry out for his mother like a child but sometimes the
constellations were more real than her. Sometimes he felt like the child he
was, sometimes he wished his father would go away and never come back and he
could just solve his own problems. Sometimes he wanted to run away, but he
knew it would be impossible. The kings of the city's scenes would know him
instantly and return him like an incentive to be liked more. He was valued
like an object of rare beauty because he was the most respected man's son.
He was trapped in paradise.
He got up and went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror it seemed he grew
a little more everyday at this age. He was blonde and blue-eyed. His hair
was kept really short, shaved every couple of months this time of year, but
about now it was almost needing to be done. His physical attributes were
like his personality, and he shimmered with astonishing beauty, but he
didn't even know it. His baby fat was gone. His skeletal structure was
shaping up, his cheekbones were high like his mother's had been, his jaw was
square and pronounced like his father's. His chin was strong. His lips were
ripe tomato red. His skin was lovely, tanned, and clean. His chest was
barreling, he had shoulders like his father's father. He would have made a
fine football player, or perhaps a sturdy construction worker but working in
the lawn was where he preferred to be, heaving rocks around, moving piles of
soil to new gardens, working in the Green House, and manicuring specimens he
especially liked.
He went downstairs.
His father was sitting at the table smoking a cigarette, reading the paper
and gulping down his coffee.
"Good morning son."
"Good morning Dad."
"I hope we didn't keep you awake too much last night."
Jay landed on the first floor and grabbed a cigarette out of his father's
pack, lit it and went for the coffee. He said after his first, crucial drag,
"Nah, the storm more than anything kept me awake."
"That was some storm, but there isn't any real damage."
"The neighbors moved in last night."
"That's right, I wonder who they are?"
"I could go down and see," Jay said. He wouldn't have minded meeting someone
new. "I'll do it later."
"How about not, just wait to see if they come up here."
"Why don't you ever let me socialize with the tenants?"
"Because of everything that happens here. I know that's not a great answer
but most truths are unacceptable anyway."
"That's bullshit."
"Hey, now, it's first thing in the morning - watch your language young man."
"Yes Dad."
"Can I see some of the paper?"
"Sure son."
Jasper handed his son the Entertainment section while he checked out the
stocks section. This was their morning every morning in the summers of past
and present and probably future. Forever bantering about last nights that
meant nothing.
His Dad finally said that he had to go off to the city and make some
deliveries. It was already another Friday. He wouldn't be home for supper
but, if Jay could make something for him and leave it out, he'd eat it when
he got home.
"Sure thing Dad."
Sometimes it crossed his mind how easy it would be for him to slip some
poison into just such a meal and he'd be done with his father and these
"truths" that entrapped him. He always smiled, he always hid his loneliness,
buried it alongside his mother in the furrows of life that was her grave in
the garden.
"I'm just going to work on the garden today."
"Sure."
His father eventually went up to shower and get dressed - suit and tie
ordeal - and then headed out in the red 4x4. Jay just sat alone for a while
and listened to the bugs and birds, the breeze as it rustled the trees.
After awhile of aimlessly staring at an article about a restaurant that he
would never ever see, he got up and opened the windows wide to let the
stench of the party from the night escape into the humidity, to be exchanged
with the glory of the fresh earthy smell after the storm, and began to clean
up after his father. He had a whole day of nothing ahead of him

Chapter Two

He was wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of jean cut-offs while he worked in
the garden. He loved the feel of the damp earth between his toes, on his
hands, on his skin when he wiped himself off. He was sweating and distracted
by thoughts of plants and blooms and fruits. He had a radio turned to the
window and it was blaring the "Habanera" from Bizet's opera, "Carmen." He
knew the story of the opera well, and relished in the scene of the tempting
women at the cigarette factory. He also knew well the history of tobacco and
could well imagine the sweltering conditions in which the female prisoners
labored to produce the cancer-sticks for attractive men. Though he didn't
know the words exactly, he knew what was being implied, but he didn't know
what the implication's realism was.
Jasper and Julia had loved each other, but Jay couldn't remember and that
was it.
Jay didn't know what love was. As far as lust was concerned, Jay thought of
it as something in fiction that no one did anymore in these enlightened
times.
He gardened.
The cabin down the hill wasn't really all that far away. The music he played
could probably be heard down there, just as he could hear the sound of a car
leaving about an hour after his father had left, but to see the place he'd
have to go up to his room and look through the limbs of trees to see the
place in patches. He really didn't think about the people down there much,
he assumed they were busily relaxing and enjoying their time in the
wilderness. His own radio suddenly played "The Toast of The Toreador" from
the same opera. He smiled, he loved this piece, and he started doing a
makeshift flamenco about the garden as if he could picture himself somewhere
along the Riviera celebrating the pathos of all great entertainers. He
clapped and laughed and leapt into the air and pretended to know the words.
His sinewy movements were the epitome of grace. Sensuality seeped with his
sweat. His smell was of the earth and his body. He felt as though he was on
a great stage in one of Europe's finest houses and the audience was loving
his every move. He felt adored, appreciated, like a celebrity. But suddenly
he spied someone actually watching him from the back porch of the house, he
tripped and stubbed his toe and fell to the ground in a pile of youth and
confusion.
The music was too loud suddenly.
The stranger remained on the step and watched Jay squirm.
Jay yelled, "Sorry about that, give me a second."
He struggled to get up but he felt like he'd gotten a sliver in his toe.
Just then the song ended anyway. "I really like that song."
The stranger said, "I must apologize, I didn't mean to frighten you. Indeed
you looked as though you were having a lot of fun."
Jay blushed. "I didn't know anyone was watching me."
"I heard the music," he said, "I thought I'd see where the audience was."
Jay didn't understand that comment so he just ignored it.
The young man said, "You must be from the cabin down the hill."
"Indeed, how did you know?"
"Because no one else ever comes up here."
The man chuckled, "I suppose not."
Jay limped toward the steps.
"Are you hurt?"
"I must have gotten a sliver in my toe when I tripped."
"Oh dear," the man said, "let me see it, I'll see if I can get it out."
"Just a second."
Jay struggled into the house, turned down the radio and grabbed a cigarette
and lit before stepping back outside.
"Here, sit down here on the step and I'll see if I can pull it out."
Unsure of how to accept this favor, Jay simply took advantage of the
company. He sat down and the gentleman too, and Jay held up his foot for the
man to hold. There was an uneasy moment where the man simply stared at the
base of Jay's foot. Finally Jay pointed to the base of his third toe and
said it was in there somewhere. The man said, "Ah, yes here it is."
The man was probably younger than his father, maybe in his mid-thirties. He
seemed cleaner or something, perhaps simply not an addict or anything. He
had dark brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a gray tee-shirt and a pair of
new blue cargo shorts with sandals. His skin was clean, his arms were
slightly hairy, and his knuckles had deep grooves in them. His hair was
thick and long on top. He parted it in the middle and the hair drooped down
both sides like a boy would have it. His skin was tan, but it all seemed a
little too orange, it was probably a fake tan.  "Ready now," he said with a
soft voice, "and there - there - there it is." He smiled and held it up
between his fingers, though Jay couldn't see it he approved of the feeling
of alleviation.
"Thanks," Jay said.
"You're welcome," the man said, "but I'm sorry I startled you, it was hardly
my intention."
Jay smiled. He liked the way this man talked. It was as if Jay could see the
way the sentences were made. It was as if this man were a character in one
of his books.
Jay said, "Name's Jay Goshin."
"Hello Jay, my name's Rudy, Rudy Parkson. How are you?"
Jay chuckled, "Rather warm, it sure is hot today."
"Sure is."
Jay looked at his garden, he felt like he'd abandoned it. Then he looked at
Rudy. He said, "Sorry, where are my manners, would you like something to
drink. I have some cool lemon water."
"Sounds wonderful."
Jay led him into the house.
"You have a lovely place here, is this your cabin?"
"Oh no, I've always lived here."
"Where do you go to school?"
Jay laughed, "I suppose I'm fortunate enough to say that I learned
everything right there," he pointed at the massive bookshelf in the living
room with the desk in front of it. The man didn't really seem all that
impressed.
He thanked Jay for the glass of water and went over to the books. He went on
to say that he was proud of the books there, "But who taught you all this?"
"Mostly myself, my father was never much of an intellect."
"What about your mother?"
"Oh, uh," Jay tried to figure out something cunning to say.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
"No, that's alright, I was very young when she died. She's buried where you
found me dancing."
"Oh." The look on his face, as he looked back through the porch door to the
garden was not of intrigue or curiosity, but more like astonishment. He
tried to change the subject. "What does your father do?"
The Golden Rule of this house is to never say what Jasper does for a living.
The answer to give is, "He's a bit of an organic gardener with some
investments."
"Very well, but it would seem you're the gardener."
Jay blushed. He was glad that someone noticed more than anything. He
chuckled and lit another cigarette.
Rudy said, "You smoke an awful lot for a young man - how old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"And your father lets you smoke?"
Jay laughed. He said, "My entire existence is a little strange."
"I bet," Rudy said, "but you're incredibly handsome, apparently well-read,
and a great gardener by the looks of things - and these are traits that have
nothing wrong with them."
Handsome.
Jay felt compelled to fill his chest with air, like a man impressed with is
accomplishment and he headed to the door frame where he leaned and smoked
his cigarette. He didn't feel at all strange that Rudy watched this entire
display. He didn't feel strange because he had no idea how intensely Rudy
was watching him.
Jay smiled but Rudy was too distracted to smile in return.
"How long are you here for?"
"I can leave, I'm sorry, I've stayed too long," Rudy started heading toward
to the door at the front of the house.
"No, don't go, I mean, how long are you at the cabin for?"
"Oh," Rudy laughed. "I'm sorry."
Jay realized how oddly uncomfortable Rudy had become.
Jay said, "Come out here on the porch, there are a couple of chairs we can
sit on and talk more."
"That would be just nice."
They did so. A slight breeze touched Rudy's hair.
"It's so nice out here," he said.
"Yes, although I've been out here all my life and all I have to compare it
to is the opinions of others when they come from the city."
"Oh dear. Trust me though, the city is hot, it stinks, it's crowded, you
rarely hear birds at all, and the plants are all wilted and loaded with
chemicals to keep the flies off them."
"Sounds awful," but that just sounded rehearsed. He craved seeing buildings
and lots of people and the sounds and the places to go and the history and
the ... So on and so forth. Jay's desire to see the city is parallel to
Rudy's contempt of it.
"You never answered my question though," Jay said.
"Oh yes, how long am I here for? Oh probably a couple of weeks or so. My
partner and I are staying here together but he has to work a lot still so
he'll be driving back and forth to the city."
"Your partner?"
Rudy looked confused, but then remember the environment, the pastoral,
blissful ignorance in which this boy had grown up. "My lover," he said.
"Your lover is a he?"
The man laughed. "Why does this confuse you?"
"Well, I mean, I suppose I knew Oscar Wilde was gay, and so on, but I'd
never actually met anyone who was gay."
Rudy smiled, "Oh you probably have, you've just never noticed it before."
He thought about his father's friends. All the kings, the way they talk
about women is seemingly an attraction. They most definitely do not
associate any of these sexual connotations to men. "No," he replied
confidently, "I've never met anyone who was gay before."
"Well," he blushed, "I hope that isn't a bad thing."
Jay thought about it, "No, I suppose not. I just never really thought about
it before." And he hadn't, he hadn't thought about anything like that
before.
"Well, you're young, you have lots of time to worry about such things."
"I suppose." Meanwhile a whole lot of void was being recognized in his young
male mind.
"Are you alright Jay?"
"Yes, I've just become distracted."
"You seem like an artist on the verge of inspiration."
"An artist, I'm not an artist."
"Are you gay?"
"No," Jay said.
There was a malicious silence suddenly. The world sounded intolerably hot.
He lit another cigarette. He smoked it with such abandon of his surroundings
Rudy felt as though his drags would suck in the atmosphere without any
consideration.
"My partner's name is Lewis, I think he'd love to meet you. He's a cop. He's
nice though, a good cop as oppose to a bad cop. You should bring your father
down sometime for dinner."
"Oh, well my father doesn't generally socialize with those he calls 'the
tenants'."
"Oh dear."
"I know, it's terrible really."
Rudy laughed. He was aware of something for certain now he could hear it in
the way Jay spoke. There was something Wilde in him for sure. A little
Dorian Gray perhaps.
"It's been very nice to meet you Jay Goshen," Rudy said as he stood without
warning. "Thank you for the water."
"Are you leaving?"
"I am, I must, as I have plenty of work to do."
"Work? I thought you were on vacation."
"Oh no," they began walking to the door. "I have books to read myself."
"Sounds thrilling."
"I wish I had your enthusiasm."
"Well, come again."
"And feel free to wander down the hill at any time."
They shared a brief handshake and Rudy left through the front door. Jay went
back to the radio, turned it up a bit. It was some Liszt.
"Gay?" And he stared into that void for nearly an hour.

Chapter Three

Buried in books darkness came, beneath a dim lamp the world crept upon him,
upon the flesh of his eyeballs reality rested. He began a journey into the
literary expedition for some truth with the topic of beauty. The dictionary:
Beauty, Love, Masculinity, Gay, Homosexuality, Man, Boy, Attraction. But the
answer wasn't there, defined so easily, of course it wasn't. So he went to
Wilde, but Wilde never talked about being gay he just wrote about young men.
Something about Beauty stuck in his mind though. Aestheticism was the next
stepping stone. Wittgenstien, and some of the linguists of the modern age.
Perfection and symmetry were discussed in abundance, but physical beauty
wasn't there. Then he thought, Who'd know what beauty is better than the
artists themselves that paint it. Artists, of course. So he pulled out all
his art books and began a journey into the realm of men and their bodies.
Muscles and curves, shadows and lights. Carvaggio, da Vinci, Michelangelo,
and all the way into the Impressionists, the Expressionists. Men. They were
there, but something wasn't there that he seemed to be looking for. What was
this connection to sexuality that seemed so pertinent, seemed to be
something he'd been missing before?
He threw his fingers through his hair. Scratched his head. Gay? Men though?
He couldn't connect it to anything but it was like a glimmer off a golden
key for a door he had never noticed before, let alone noticed was locked.
The door to sexuality was shrouded in a mystery alike classical Greece. The
Greeks! He had a book about Greek history. He lunged at it, plopped it down
and found before him, randomly, a selection of Grecian urn artwork. The
wrestling boys. Muscles strained. Smiling, the line of the jaw. The chest.
The arms. The hands. The legs. Gods. Heroes. Soldiers. Fighters. He thought
of the sweat. He thought of the smells. He thought of the groan of grown
men. There was something so wonderful in all this, so new, so ancient and
natural, so wrong, so right for being wrong, so dangerous and yet so
peaceful. He felt excited. He felt impassioned.  He felt filled with a
light.
But all of a sudden there was a real light. A truck pulled up to the house.
"Oh shit." He looked at the clock on the wall. It said it was now nine in
the evening. He'd completely forgotten about dinner, about the meal he'd
promised his father. He jumped up at the same moment his father came through
the door.
"Hey Jay."
"Hi Dad."
"How was your day?"
"Same old, same old."
"Any messages?"
There were some. Jay relayed them. They were calls from dealers that needed
some supplies and made some orders for some chemicals which his father would
relay onto other "popes", for lack of a better way of putting it.
His father sat at the kitchen table and yawned.
"I'm sorry, I didn't make anything for supper. I've completely lost track of
time. What would you like to eat?"
Jay was headed for the kitchen. He grabbed a cigarette along the way.
"Oh, I don't know, whatever is easiest."
"Um, okay." Jay found some veggies and decided a salad and maybe a hunk of
kielbasa with a  piece of Gouda.
While Jay flustered around the kitchen, chopping and whatnot, he asked, "How
was your day?"
"Oh it was brutal. The city is so hot Jay. You can't imagine."
Jay muttered with a hint of a bitter bite, "No, indeed I can not."
"But I am very busy. Tomorrow we've got a lot of bagging and stuff to do in
the Green House. I mean, I do, but could you help me?"
"Sure thing Dad, whatever."
He yawned again, "You're such a good kid."
Jay smiled as he presented for his father a quick meal of the highest
nourishment.
"Looks great."
"We even have some wine, would you like a glass? We could be 'tres
European'?"
"Sure, if you'll join me."
"Sure, but it will probably knock me out."
"Me too," Jasper said.
Jay was munching himself, on some of the kielbasa and Gouda, using a little
knife to break himself off some pieces.
Jasper ate away but then asked, "What were you researching?"
Jay looked over his shoulder at the dimly lit desk and the spread of books.
It was an impressive site of research. Jay smirked to himself. "A little of
this and a little of that."
"Like what, tell me what goes on in your little head during the day."
He wasn't sure if he should tell his father the truth just yet. That would
mean he'd have to explain his fascination with the topic, where he heard the
word, about the neighbor, blah, blah, blah. So Jay decided to use words that
would impress his father but dissuade his interest substantially.
"Aestheticisms, in the Wittgenstien realm of things, with a hint of
Classical Greece and those old urns they used. Plus a little Impressionism,
and a few Sargent works."
"Wonderful." He looked confused. "What do you do with this information?"
Jay thought for a moment, "Well, I don't know. I suppose I just take comfort
in knowing it for now."
"Yes, you are still young and so bright. I'm so glad I didn't send you to
school to be corrupted by coloring books and 'Hooked on Phonics' bullshit."
"I don't like modern academics either Dad."
He laughed. "Want to stay up with me and smoke a joint, I need it to
unwind."
"Nah, but thanks. I think I may just go to bed. I'm nice and tired. Just put
your dishes by the sink and I'll do them in the morning before I come out
and help you in the Green House."
"Sure thing. Night."
"Night Dad."

When he got in his room he began stripping. He'd put on a pair of jeans,
full length, when the sun had started going down, but it felt good now to be
out of them. It was very hot, and the air on his long legs felt so
refreshing. For a few moments he bathed in the breezy darkness of his room.
His legs were apart and his arms were resting on top of his head. He wasn't
really tired, he was just yearning for an answer or something. He could
dimly see his reflection in the mirror on the dresser. He asked himself
quietly what the hell was going on in his head. Why today, why now, what is
difference between this time tonight and this time last night? That's
obvious. A man, a compliment and a notion.
He walked over to his mirror and smiled at himself. Who'd have thought it,
he was handsome. He inspected his face a little more closely. He smiled,
faked a laugh, and then went serious, frowned, and smiled again. He rubbed
his shoulders, his skin tingled. He stretched his neck muscles, rolling his
head back while his hand pressed between his shoulders. Then his other hand
naturally pressed against his chest, found his nipple and gently caressed
it. It felt so good. With his hands he traced the lines in his thin body. He
imagined it was someone else. At first he imagined this someone else was
without identity, merely hands. Then he imagined it was the gentle hands of
Rudy. He imagined he could hear him saying, "You're handsome. So handsome."
With one hand slipping into the crack of his butt, the other found his
crotch and, indeed, found it hard. He had a long cock but he didn't know it.
He really didn't even know he could cum. He'd never done it before. He'd
just tickled it in the night when it got this hard. He enjoyed the sight of
it, the sensitivity of it, but he didn't know what it could be used for. He
was natural down there. The hair was clean but curly and bushy, the foreskin
was tight and juicy and kept healthy as he was warned to do by his father.
	He looked again in the mirror and held his cock in a firm grip, shook it
about.
A shimmer of light in the reflection distracted him. He looked closely at
the mirror to locate it once he turned. It was outside, a car on the road -
no, it was at the cabin next door. He understood it was probably the lover
of Rudy, Lewis had been his name, as he was just getting home from work. He
looked out the window and indeed someone had just pulled in there. He could
see that lights were on in the cabin and he might be able to see into them
if he had some binoculars or something. He thought for a moment. He knew of
a set of binoculars down by the door to the front porch but he couldn't
disturb his father now, he couldn't be bothered to explain his motives, nor
be bothered to put pants on.
No. There had to be another solution.
He remembered then a telescope set he'd gotten and used for about a year
when his mother had still been alive. It was, he believed, in his closet. He
opened the closet door quietly, for some reason he wanted his father to
think he'd gone to bed straightaway. In the dark he thought, quickly turned
on the light and saw the box, shut off the light, and then went after it.
Successfully he pulled it onto the bed, opened it, and there it was, ready
for gazes at the moon and yonder galaxies and now about to be used for a
different sort of voyeurism. He pulled out the tripod and set it up, placed
the telescope on the tripod, and intended to look through it but realized he
needed some sort of eye piece. He found it in the box. Then he lined it up
with his eyes for the source of light he could see, like stage lamps in the
middle of nowhere. Through the eye piece he looked, extremely out of focus
as it was, and alas, after a few moments of searching and turning this and
that knob, Jay finally caught a glimpse of Rudy laughing hysterically at a
table filled with books.
"Showtime."
Then he saw Lewis for the first time. A stunning character. He needed to
shave his face, but the darkness of the shadow along the line of his jaw was
extremely masculine. He had black hair cropped short. He was wearing a black
police uniform with short sleeves and all the fancy gear on the belt. There
was a blue line down the seam of his black pants. His arms were black with
hair. His hands, as they cupped Rudy's chin, were massive things. They
kissed very gently. The spoke a few words and chuckled.
"What are you doing?"
Suddenly Lewis was rubbing at his own crotch and laughing again.
Rudy began kissing his crotch. Jay wriggled his nose with confusion. When he
looked back though they had gone. Jay's heart pattered. He looked out the
window and saw that another light was on. He looked in. A bedroom. The two
men were sharing a deep kiss at the end of the bed. Rudy was pulling out the
officer's shirt and tugging at the belt while the officer feverishly did the
same to him. Excitedly Jay started to touch himself, more importantly, he
started to want to touch himself. He felt so hot. He felt as though he were
on fire on the inside. He felt as though he had a fever, and all he could do
was watch. He saw Lewis's chest be exposed and Rudy buried his face into the
dark hairs of the officer and concentrated on suckling the nipples. The
pants were loosened on both of them. Rudy pulled down the officer's boxers
and began to massage the massive meat he revealed. He licked up and down the
shaft, shoved as much of it into his mouth as possible and the cop rubbed
his brown hair as if he were writhing and wriggling with a pleasure Jay
didn't understand. Soon Jay noticed something Rudy was doing between his
legs. Jay reached down to his crotch and realized he was wet.
He jumped back from the telescope. He reached down again and rubbed the tip
and made his thumb moist and this he licked. It tasted salty, nearly bland.
He liked it though. Interesting, he thought, it has something to do with sex
indeed.
He looked back through the eye piece and saw, to his amazement the two men
completely naked and Rudy bouncing up and down on the officer's lap. Then
they changed positions and Rudy was on all fours, like a dog, and Lewis was
slamming his cock into Rudy's butt while rubbing his back. Rudy looked as
though he was gasping, his face was red. Did it hurt, or just really feel
good, it was hard to tell from this distance. Something about the tenderness
in the massage of Rudy's back while Lewis pounded with such ecstasy,
something about the way the muscles in Lewis's ass cheeks and legs pumped
and shimmered with sweat, something about the way Rudy seemed desperate for
his body to be touched and pushed, something about the way he pushed back,
something about the lighting even, something about the way they were
sweating against each other, something about the fact that Jay couldn't hear
or smell but only see and see from such a distance - something made him feel
like Zeus witnessing the adorable spectacle of the inspiration for urns and
vases and frescoes and this made him feel like it was beautiful. Something
about the clash of titanic masculinity made him want to rejoice his manhood,
and salute his body, clash with another man, feel the power of strength, but
also submit a little to it, savor the submission. He wanted this. He wanted
what they had. He wanted them.
Then they slumped together on the bed. It didn't seem as though they were
done, Jay didn't want them to have been finished, but Rudy reached up and
shut the lamp off beside the bed and a darkness descended on the stage the
mighty, naïve Zeus watched and Jay could watch it no more.
He pulled back from the telescope a different person than the one that
approached it. He was breathing heavily. He was sweating, hard and almost
aching. He touched himself and felt within what was intended to be his first
load of semen. He didn't really know what to do to make it come out.
He heard his father coming.
He pulled down the telescope with a haste and tucked it under his bed. He
lay on top of the covers, on his back, and was awed by the steeple of his
cock. It was so hard, so impressive. He felt so proud. Suddenly his door
creaked open. The hall light shone in. He closed his eyes and pretended to
be sleeping. Normally he would have hidden himself from his father but he
wanted to appear to be sleeping.
His father came right into the room and stood right at the window where he
had just been exploring the neighbors' night. He opened his eyes long enough
to notice his father was naked, facing out the window. When his father
turned he lowered his eyes but caught a glimpse of his father's cock. It was
so much bigger than his own. His father gripped it, shook it strangely.
His father listened for something, there was only the sound of their
breathing. Then only the sound of Jay's relaxed, muted breaths. Then a
strange whimper that a ghost of an idea uttered; Jasper feverishly
whispered, "You're mine."
His father left and realistically Jay just fell asleep.

Chapter Four

He awakened to the eight o'clock news. His window was open and the air was
musky and thick, heavy and perfumed with humidity. His sheets were tangled
and sticking all around his legs. It was preposterously hot. The news was
beginning, without the energy to even consider pressing buttons, which would
involve lifting his arm, which was just wrong to suggest at this early,
godless hour.
The weather told what he already knew.
The report on the world sounded grim and morbid. West Nile Diseases being
carried by mosquitoes. SARS epidemics in cities he believed he'd never see.
Wars in countries he reads about, can find easily in atlases. In other
realms of humanity rage and contortions of perception are signs of modern
times. It's almost exciting for him to hear these things, to hear about
people afraid of things like that. The paranoia of the people in the city is
the only thing that makes him comfortable where he is. A reporter tells
about something to do with the stock market. He wonders what the building
looks like, how many cars are out front, how many people are wearing suits
on the sidewalks. Are there protestors, he's heard so much about them, he'd
love to see them. Are there bums - they always have such sad sounding
stories, at least Kerouac speaks nicely of them - he wonders what it is to
be poor. He hears a story about a protest in Montreal, stores being
ransacked and the police going wild, arresting people on the street because
they "look" suspicious. The fear of walking down the street, he smiled to
know of the sound of birds, the limp bowing of limbs of trees in heat
uninterrupted and clean and remains in some way unattached to urban air.
Smog advisories, traffic jams, the Market District, the Business Core,
Suburbia, and porn shops, and bars, and clubs and so on and so on, ad
nauseum. He smiles, innocence, he has it, he's so glad.
Then he hears something that any other day would have meant nothing to him.
There is a Chamber Music Festival happening in the city for the next month.
Every hour, it seems, another concert is happening somewhere everyday. As he
listens to critics talking about this or that virtuoso performing this or
that variation of this or that theme, and hears the music playing, he swoons
a bit and wishes he was there, like the character of some fantastically
Romantic novel that he can't quite seem to find and read. Then he hears
something he's most definitely never really thought twice about before ...
he stares at the leaves on the trees, their lazy accolades suddenly mean
very little.
He suddenly feels alone and this heat is nearly driving him crazy.
He gets up and slowly makes his way downstairs.
"Good morning Jay."
"Morning Dad."
His father looked up from the paper, smiling distantly.
Jay grabbed a cigarette immediately and found the coffee, but instead of
heading back to the table as per tradition, Jay went toward the front porch.
The view is tremendous. Of course, the lawn, the garden is lovely and all,
and beyond that there is the hem-line where the tops of the trees meet the
sky but all this is on top of a hill, and the view allows a glimpse at the
slope of the valley and the hills beyond, in the valley is a lake that can't
be seen. Facing this direction one merely heads due west, further and
further still away from civilization, and he has only ever seen this view
since the day he was born.
"What's wrong bud, you seem depressed?"
He's almost afraid to admit it. Jay just slowly blows the steam off his
coffee. He tries to think of something else to say, to excuse his demeanor.
"I didn't sleep well. I'm so hot. I can't seem to cool down."
"How about we go down to the lake later on and cool off."
"No, I don't think so."
"You must be sick of being here all the time."
"I am Dad actually," and with that he slumped into one of the over-stuffed
leather chairs by the cold hearth where an ashtray readily accepted his
cigarette and the table held his cup. He rubbed his eyes. He was only in a
pair of shorts and a gray tee-shirt, but literally it felt like a snow suit.
His father was wearing a pair of jeans and a white muscle shirt, of the new
style that isn't worn loosely but instead tight and clean against muscles
kept tanned and firm.
"Why don't you come down to the lake then. We'll go skinny dipping."
Jay rolled his eyes. He's too hot and lonely to play with his gay fancies
today.
"What's wrong dude? You don't seem yourself at all."
"Oh I don't know." Jay took another haul off his cigarette and said that
he'd just do the dishes and wake up and get working and feel fine in a bit.
"How's about I go set up the Green House, we'll get an assembly line
happening and we'll be done in no time - we can sit around all afternoon and
smoke spliffs and keep cool, sound nice."
"Sounds positively decadent."
"That's more like it. I knew you were in there somewhere."
Jay smiled. Not because of the spliffs or the getting the work done fast,
but because sometimes he forgot that his father recognized his sense of
humor. Sometimes he forgot that he could be liked.
He did the dishes quickly, put on a pair of sandals and headed out to find
his Dad with his shirt off and Led Zeppelin blaring. He turned it down a bit
when he saw his son but Jay said it was cool, "In fact, it's the best thing
for in here."
The Green House was a shrine to the grandeur of smoking marijuana.
His father passed him a joint, which Jay took with a smile. The back wall of
the Green House had a few posters on it. They were scientific analyses of
the leafs, buds, and growing cycles of the plant, littered with Latin terms
in Italics and the greens of the lightly etched diagrams, along with the
paper on which they were printed, were faded and wrinkled from the humidity.
It was very hot in the room. The lighting and heat and moisture being the
most important part of the growing process. The plants were huge and were in
four aisles that came down the full length of the long structure. It stunk
of the plants, but it was an acquired taste. It was lush with the
intoxicating aroma of illegal life. There was a work table in the center,
where the radio was, where his father was, sitting on one of the two stools.
There was an ashtray, bags, knives and scissors and scales and bongs and big
barbeque lighters. Jasper had a list of orders he wanted filled. Then he
wanted to cut some stalks ad hang them to dry a bit before they'd take them
to the root cellar beneath the house. His father had toted some of the dried
bushels into the Green House for them to work with. Essentially, the Green
House was for growing, the root cellar was heaped with even more weed. They
supplied the entire city it seemed at times, and Jay has no idea what a war
that territory is to keep. In the fall business picks up extraordinarily
when all the students go to university and college and need new dealers.
The room was steamy, incredibly steamy, like a forest sauna. Everywhere he
looked there was green, hanging, growing, leaning, bagged, cut up,
dissected, plucked, arranged, painted and drawn even. It was alright to
smoke in there only if it was this steamy and considering it always had to
be this steamy it was pretty much safe to smoke all the time. Instantly
Jay's shirt became soaked in the pungent haze. He smoked the joint awhile
then passed it back to his father who took it, finished it, and once they
were feeling a little buzz they got to work. Jay's been doing this, learning
the dynamics and financing of the situation since he was about nine. By now,
this is typical Saturday stuff. That day it was nice to distract himself
from loneliness with the business of weighing and bagging and tallying
moneys to be coming. They were about to make a lot of money. They were also
about to let loose a new batch of weed to the customers that was superb,
with a light taste, a sweet after-taste, and a high to beat anyone else's
out there.
Jay doesn't realize the enterprise his father has established. Goshen weed
is gold.
About two hours later they were pretty much done.
So was the Led Zeppelin album and a Jimi Hendrix one too. As they were
finishing up they lit another joint and Jay wanted to hear Steppenwolf's
"Magic Carpet Ride". His father found it and put it on. Jay swooned and
noticed how his father watched him keenly. His father is just in his
forties. He has blonde hair as well, he doesn't wear it short like Jay
though it's long and generally held up with an elastic at the back. He has
no facial hair, but years of lying in tanning beds has made his skin soft
and wrinkly, so has smoking and drinking. He has gray eyes. Jay has his
mother's blue eyes. His father's lips are burned red. His skin is bronzed to
an aesthetic delight. His hands are moisturized and professionally manicured
for the sake of making impressions when he meets new clients. He is a clean
man. Alas, he is muscular. He's worked out for years in the city. He has
rippling arms and a chest as hard as rock, and his stomach is flat and
mounded with abdominal features. There is hair on his torso, but his father
is well-groomed.
They hadn't really spoken during all that time, but as they were about to
leave, and they shut old Steppenwolf down, and made their way to the door,
each carrying a couple of bushels of weed, his father said, "Come on, we'll
go down to the lake and freshen up. It'll feel great and it's been ages
since we were there."
"Okay." Jay smirked, he was sure it would feel great too.
After they'd put all the stuff in the cellar Jay grabbed them a couple of
towels and beers and his father grabbed a bunch of weed and some papers and
his pipe - then they decided they'd have a picnic down there too, so they
brought some cheese and veggies and the rest of kielbasa.
The lake is a shimmering pool of golden sunlight captured in deep warm
water. An old dock, with a ladder, leads out far enough from shore where
it's safe enough to jump. There's a sandy patch, a bench, and there are no
weeds in the water. It's a stunning, secluded wonder. In the past, when Jay
was a kid, and even when his father had been a kid, this had been a popular
place to have parties. No one is around here anymore. They seem like the
only ones who know about it now, they're like legends on a mythically
gorgeous memory lane.
"Are you going in now?" Jay asked.
"Sure, but let's go in naked."
"Really, I mean ..."
"Don't be shy Jay. I'm your father, I'm not going to tease you or anything.
I would never do that to you. In my eyes, you're the most handsome thing
that ever graced this planet."
Jay blushed.
"Oh so you liked that compliment did you?"
"Well, it's not like we generally go around parading in the nude Dad."
"I know, isn't that strange? We live so alone and yet we are afraid of being
caught doing something so natural - one of your books must talk about ethics
and logic on that matter."
Jay was kind of embarrassed about removing his shorts.
His father said, "Why don't you get in the water and take them off then. You
have no idea how great it feels."
Jay smiled. Being a bit of a lover of naturisms, animalisms and all the
-isms one could possibly apply to this situation and he had to admit the
idea did sound appealing and beautiful.
His father put down all his stuff, the weed and beer and paraphernalia, and
took off his pants and lay them on the bench. He was standing there
completely naked. He stretched. He looked incredible. His groomed body hair
was groomed all the way down to his pubes, and was blonde all the way down
there too. Jay couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the long, soft cock
that dangled there. His father was tan all over. He was stunning, and surely
his young jaw dropped in appreciation of his maker.
"What are you staring at?"
"Nothing."
"Haven't you ever seen anyone naked before?"
"No."
Then he remembered he had. He remembered Lewis's body, and how attractive it
had been, and Rudy's too, but this was more like Lewis he was looking at. He
felt so small in comparison. A little bit of shame and cowardice crept up on
him. His father smiled.
Jasper walked over to his son and said, "Don't forget that I think you're
beautiful."
Jay gasped. He felt weird. He felt like his father was saying something more
than that and it all made the blood rush to his head. He felt dizzy and
crazy and nervous of getting caught. He wasn't doing anything though really.
His father then hopped up the ladder, ran down the dock and jumped into the
air and dived into the water gracefully, like a hawk seeking prey without
mercy. A few seconds later he appeared and said it was so warm and felt so
good. He dove under again, and called at Jay, "Come on chicken."
Jay hesitated, then finally he took off his shorts. His father pretended not
to notice. Jay then went over to the ladder, climbed up it for the first
time in years, and walked down the dock. It seemed like such a leap but he
couldn't climb down now. Plus, he was standing there completely naked while
his father seemed to make every effort not to stare even though it would
have been so easy for him to see. He realized he'd be better off in the
water so he jumped. His father had been right, it felt incredible. His
entire body felt free and cool and clean all at once in an instant.
His father laughed, "See it isn't so bad after all."
Jay laughed and sarcastically said, "Oh dad you're always right." Then he
splashed him playfully.
Suddenly they were splashing each other in some sort of fight that was fun
and without stress or thought or worry. It was so nice to be spending time
with his father like this. It felt great to be spending time with someone
else. The more he thought about it all, the wonderful feelings he had right
then, the closer his father got, the more Jay was soaked. All of a sudden
his father wrestled with his son and pulled him toward shore. Close enough
to shore his father easily picked him and threw him back into the water with
a great laugh bursting from him. Jay stood up in the water laughing too.
Then they bathed in the water lazily.
Jasper came over and said, "Can you scrub my back. I love it when I have
someone to scratch my back."
Jay went over, he used to do this as a kid for his father too. This time it
was much more relaxed. Instead of just scratching it though he more or less
gave his father's shoulders a massage. His father said, "That feels so good,
those stools in the Green House are murder on my back, massage down my
spine."
Jay smiled. His father was watching out over the lake. There were tall
cedars growing over there, there was nothing in sight but birds and sky and
trees and the shimmering, golden water. Jay silently watched the distant
shore.
"Dad?"
"Yes Jay?"
"What is the city like?"
There was a terrible silence. Jasper's skin went cold, his muscles went
tight.
"Why do you want to know that all of a sudden?"
"Because this is all I ever know, what you see, so empty."
"This is paradise son. This is the most beautiful place in the world."
"There's just us, though."
"It's much better this way."
Jay thought about it. "I want to see stuff Dad. I know it's out there,
beyond those hills, I know how exciting it can be."
"The stuff you would see my son would bore you quickly. People wouldn't care
where you were from or what your name is, they would only care that they
didn't know."
"That can't be true. That can't be a good enough reason to not go."
"Stay here with me son."
"But you go there all the time, why can't I go with you."
"Because I don't want you to go to the city. It will ruin how beautiful you
are."
"It will ruin me? Will it make me all that ugly?"
"It is Hell, and this is Paradise, surely there are definitions in your
books that will explain why I want you to stay here."
"I hate it here."
His father turned around and held his son like a lover would.
"I'd hate it here without you," his father said.
He felt sad suddenly. His imprisonment in Paradise seemed hopeless now. His
father pulled his son closer. His strong arms wrapped around his cool body
and hugged it passionately, desperately, pathetically. Jay wanted to cry.
"Is this what has been bothering you so much?"
"I feel so lonely sometimes Dad."
"Never feel lonely, I am always with you."
"But I want more than what I have always known."
Jay had been resting his head on the damp shoulder of his father, just above
the surface of the water. His father had been respectively nestled into his
son's neck.
His father pulled back and lifted his son's head, Jay saw in his father's
eyes a sadness unlike anything he had ever seen in his own face before, a
sadness like the ancients described as a tragic love. There was a strange
hesitant moment but then his father slowly moved forward and gently grabbed
his son's lips in his. Jay didn't understand this. Or did he all too well
perhaps?
This is gay. Not the staring through windows and telescopes at stereotypes
and clichés. This passion in the lips, this tragedy, this wondrous way to
see things, this natural scenery, this powerful grip his father had on him.
This was the love on has when one loves another, nothing of gender or law or
rules, just love. This was beauty, this was romance. He felt his father pull
his son closer and his strong hands pressed firmly against the muscles of
his young back, one hand moving up and the other one down. Jay adapted and
got comfortable in the muscles he'd so shortly before adored with shame. His
right hand pressed against his father's chest and felt the heart pounding
under the brawn of the breast. His left his slipped under the water and
caressed the strong thigh and groped the tight ass muscle he found. His
father easily carried him slowly toward shore and lay him in the shallow
water and gently lay atop him. He stroked the soft young skin of his son and
loved his youth and innocence. He showed his what attention he needed to
know existed, all while tenderly breathing into him a lust that his son
could never have known the truth of before now.
He felt his father's long hard cock slowly sliding up the inside of his
thigh.
His father brushed at the short hair of his son's crown and stared deep into
the blue eyes that reflected the sky. "You are so beautiful son. I am so
glad you're mine."
Jay couldn't say anything. He was not the person he was when he stood on the
dock. He was not the person he was when the other day he danced to the
"Habanera" in the Garden. He was not at all the same anymore, and he had
begun to understand that life is not a sequence of magical events but is
instead all magic.
He reached down and touched his father's penis. It was hot even in the cool
water, and massive too. He wanted to stroke it, almost intuitively. His
father touched his too, but stroke gently he did not, he began a violent
arousal of his shaft, shaking it strangely, making his young body quiver and
shake and blush and flush and become tender to every ripple of the water.
"What are you doing to me, oh, dad, what ... this is ... oh ..."
"You like that son ..."
Jay wanted to make his father feel this way. He began stroking madly his
father too. He could barely hold onto his father though, his arms went limp
and he could hardly even stand to concentrate. His father kissed his son's
neck, licking up the cool water in the curves of his young shoulders. Salty
sweat oozed from his father who loved the feel of his son's young hands
desperately clinging to the muscles and smooth skin.
"Oh Dad, I think I - I think something is going to happen - I love this -
uh, oh - oh my god, oh dad ..." Suddenly an explosion erupted from his body
in the creamy way it does. His eyes applauded the sight of the white semen
floating just under the surface of the water, heading to the earth to mingle
with algae and scum. He loved it ferociously, this was an incredible
eruption of reality more than anything.
He panted unlike any way he had before, his body softened quickly, his cock
throbbed. He melted in the water. His father suddenly kneeled and trapped
his son's torso between his legs and sat on his chest.
He stroked his cock right over his son's face. Instinctively Jay licked at
his father's balls. Seeing how his father loved this he didn't simply lick
but sucked too. His father jerked for merely a moment and then shot a
massive load, but pointed it at his son, and Jay's mouth was covered with it
too. He couldn't help but taste it. All he could see was the swollen head of
his father's cock dangling over his mouth, as he licked the cum off his lips
he also took the head of this father's cock in his mouth as if to suckle it
like a teat. His father trembled.
In a few moments they both got out of the water and sat on shore. Jay put
his shorts on, and Jasper put his jeans on. They smoked a huge joint under a
tree, silently. Jasper sat with his back against a tree and his son nestled
up between his legs and lounged against his chest.
Jasper caressed Jay's chest and told him never to worry about anything ever
again. That he'd have a party soon and make sure he was treated like a part
of the enterprise as he should have always been. "You'll be fine. I will
tell them all how proud I am of you, how proud I am that you are mine."
They reclined comfortably and watched the sun set behind the tall cedars.
Dozing finally, the two packed up their stuff and went back to the truck and
went home.

Chapter Five

That night Jay slept with his father in his father's bed. He slept well and
undisturbed by dreams. A fan hummed in the corner providing the only source
of movement all night. The next day they worked again in the Green House,
this time listening to Lou Reed and Aerosmith and as the sun went down Jay
requested some jazz. They ate and spoke very little all day, and finally
reclined again, son in father's arm, on a lounge on the back porch.
Braving the topic his father said, "Did you like what we did yesterday?"
"It was nice."
"I'm glad you liked it."
Jasper tickled his son's chest, playing a little with his son's nipples
which excited the young man and conjured an urge in him, he wriggled a
little, chuckling, which in turn aroused his father. His father finally
lowered his hand into his son's pants and found a cock hardening in there.
He petted it softly, the soft skin tingled with each stroke and the boy
gripped his father's legs in response. His father had strong legs that
surrounded him like fallen trees thudding with vigorous life. Jay looked up
at his father. His father looked down at his son. They kissed softly.
Jay finally sat up and kissed him straight on. "What do I do now Daddy?"
"What do you mean?"
Jay thought for a moment. He stroked his father's chest and touched his
father's hardened nipples. He begged, "What do you want me to do?"
His father laughed, "Why don't you start by undressing yourself very
slowly."
Jay got up and tugged at the buckle of his pants, unzipping them too, and
then slowly lowering them as he rubbed his young legs on the way down. He
stepped out of them and remained in his pair of blue boxers. His hardened
cock lay within. His hips were lithe and smooth. He recalled the parts of
the bodies of the boy-wrestlers on the Greek urns that had excited him. He
drew with his finger upon himself these similar lines, then with hooked
fingers he pulled down his boxers. Then he was naked.
"Now stroke yourself a little."
He complied.
"Does it feel good?"
"I wish you were you doing it Daddy."
"Indeed," his father smiled, then continued, "but I need you to help me out
of my clothes now."
Jay went over and struggled with the button-fly. Finally he revealed his
father's bigger cock. His father smiled again. "Stroke mine for me."
Jay put his hand on it, felt the blood soaring through the fragile tissue.
"Kiss it Jay, kiss Daddy's cock."
Jay reached with his puckered lips to the swollen head. He placed his lips
on the ridge and then stuck his tongue out to ring the juice from it.
Instinctively he licked up and down the shaft. His father moaned and
swooned.
"Suck on the balls, suck on one at a time, gently." His father's eyes rolled
up in his head, "Oh yes, you're such a good cocksucker boy. Suck on my dick.
Yes, wrap your little mouth around it - yes, like that - oh you bet that
feels incredible." Jay stroked the cock too, while he sucked with the intent
to impress. His father placed his hands on the young man's head and
encouraged the action.
Finally his father said, "Now I'm going to suck your cock."
Jay crawled up on his father's lap and stuck his young cock in the man's
face. His father smiled at it, as if greeting it, then ferociously wrapped
his experienced lips around it and suckled it like a candy. He could pull
the whole thing in and fondle it with his tongue while it was in there. One
of his hands tweaked his young nipples while the other reached up and under
into the boy's crack where he traced a sweaty line right into the anus,
puckering pink and twitching.
Jay moaned. "Oh Dad, that feels so hot."
His father hesitated. He said, "I have to piss like a race horse son."
"So do I."
His father thought for a minute. "Let's just piss right here."
"Oh Dad."
Suddenly a hot stream shot straight up at Jay's anus. It actually felt
incredible, he leaned back and the stream shot up his belly. Relaxing now,
he let his own stream go and it hit his father's face full-force. His father
opened his mouth and took it in while his son was being soaked in his own
urine. Soon they wreaked, and were soaked. His father laughed, which made
Jay laugh. His son reached down, mid-piss, and pointed his piss-spewing cock
at his father's body. His father rubbed it into his skin. It dripped off the
chair into puddles on the floor. As soon as his father was done pissing he
immediately resumed masturbating slamming at the tight ass of his son with
his fist at each interval. Jay started jerking himself too soon enough. At
about the same time they each moaned and Jay lay against his father to blow
his load deep into his belly button. His father's load covered his back.
They lay together for a moment, wreaking and soaked in all varieties of
bodily fluids.
"Let's shower together and have a nap."
While his father napped he made supper and they ate and jerked off once the
dishes were done, against the counter, his father sucked him again and his
father blew his load all over his son's face.
They jerked off again in bed, but both fell asleep then with cum on their
bellies.

Jay woke up alone on that morning. His stomach was covered with the memory
of the night before. He lay there and smiled. His father had probably gone
into town.
Jay got up and showered and loved his body. He was so excited about what he
was taught, he wanted to show it off. As he dressed in his room he looked
out the window and noticed his neighbors were both home. He decided he'd
make them up some tea biscuits and deliver them wearing something as
provocative as possible.
He decided the best thing to wear would be something like white cotton
shorts and that was all, maybe a pair of sandals.
He made up the biscuits, and a thermos of Earl Gray tea, grabbed a pack of
cigarettes and brought it down to them. It was very hot, the short walk made
him sweaty by the time he'd arrived and when Rudy answered the door he
appeared to have just arrived from the swimming hole.
"Jay, boy, how nice to see you, come in."
"Thanks Rudy."
Rudy wasn't wearing a shirt. He had olive skin, rippling, hairless muscles
and large dark nipples. Staring straight forward, Jay looked right into the
wrinkles around the outside edges of Rudy's chest. He loved them. Rudy
smiled.
"Lewis get out here and meet the neighbor."
Barreling out of the bedroom, through a door that barely contained him, came
that cop-character. He was wearing black pants but no shirt or anything. He
was massive in real life, compared to that man he'd seen the other night
through the telescope, this one was ten times more attractive. He stuck out
his hand to shake Jay's and Jay set the thermos down on the counter to
accept the firm grip. Jay blushed. He was surrounded by these beautiful men
and couldn't resist staring.
"I see you brought something for us," Lewis said.
"Oh, yes, of course." Jay blushed harder. "How silly to forget." He
explained the gesture as one out of boredom and perhaps a little curiosity
to meet Lewis.
Rudy got them some cups out of the cupboard and they went to the front deck
to sit in the shade provided by a sighing maple. For a long time they talked
about the weather and the history of the area. Jay kept staring at their
faces, but both were shirtless and they sat with their legs apart in just
such a suggestive manner that poor Jay nearly blew a gasket.
Lewis started chuckling. Rudy asked, "What's so funny?"
Lewis looked at Jay, he blatantly asked, "So, boy, are you gay?"
Jay stammered.
Rudy snapped, "Lewis, that's rude."
"No, no, it's alright Rudy." He looked back at Lewis and smirked. "Yes, I
think so."
"You think so?"
"Well, I don't really know."
Lewis laughed. Rudy blushed.
Lewis stood up and massaged his cock, he said, "What sort of proof do you
need?" He walked over to Rudy he sat there with his head resting in the crux
of his thumb and index finger, a look of guilt lingering on his face.
"How old are you Jay?"
"Not too young."
"Good answer," Lewis said.
"What a great law enforcement officer."
They all laughed. As the laughter ended Lewis pulled out his cock. Rudy
squealed and told him to put his night stick away. He leaned down and
whispered something into Rudy's ear, which made Jay feel uncomfortable.
Suddenly Lewis looked up and said, "Do you want to suck our cocks Jay?"
Jay blushed.
"Lewis, don't freak him out - hon, you don't have to do anything you don't
want to." Rudy struggled though to keep his cock under control in his pants.
Lewis's cock, meanwhile, was a long, probably nine inches, soft, tube of
meat. It was larger by far than his father's. Lewis had not undone his
pants, it simply hung from the zipper like a demon tongue. "You can suck on
it if you want?"
Jay looked at Rudy. Rudy smiled.
Lewis walked over and put it right in his face. It started to harden
immediately. Jay leaned forward, about to put it in his mouth when he
noticed that juice oozed from it already so he licked at that like it was
liquid candy. He put both hands on it and milked the cock for more candy.
Lewis put his hands on the boy's head and pushed his cock in a little more.
This made the young man panic and he choked a bit. Rudy told Lewis to stop.
So he did.
"Sorry little guy but you've got a really great mouth."
"Do you want to just jerk off little guy?"
Nervously, but honestly, Jay nodded.
"How about we give him some inspiration then Lewis."
Rudy got up and stepped out of his pants. His young body was that of
something European, mythical, compared to Lewis who was more like a
lumberjack and stealthy. And, for the first time, it was clear Rudy was
probably a few years younger than Lewis, perhaps by ten or fifteen years.
Rudy put one of his arms on each side of Jay's chair and bent down right
into Jay's lap with his face. Jay struggled quickly to lower his pants and
reveal his little pecker, which Rudy licked at with a smile on his face the
whole time. Lewis was meanwhile licking loose the hole in Rudy's ass and
soon enough fingered it enough to get his massive meat in. Rudy howled. His
face flushed and wrinkled with anguish, but then, alas, relaxed and his
whole body broke out in a sweat. Lewis began pounding Rudy's ass, shoving
the guy's face right at the boy's cock, forcing his hot panting breaths,
with spit, all over the young cock left untouched for the moment.
Jay noticed what was happening at Rudy's ass and slid off the chair, onto
his knees between Rudy's legs, face to face with his flopping cock and the
spectacle of the juices pouring out his pounded ass. Jay began at once to
stroke Rudy's cock which made him moan all the more, which encouraged Lewis
to ram more and more ferociously. Then Jay, with his other hand, pulled at
Lewis's sack which hung low. He sucked on the testicles like his father had
taught him. Rudy and Lewis were swearing it was fucking amazing to God, who
was no where near there at that moment. Jay pulled himself back up on the
chair and Rudy started sucking on the cock there while he was being fucked.
The sight of this was enough to get Jay going. In a few minutes his body was
steaming and Lewis pulled out his cock too and shot cum far enough over
Rudy's back to land on Jay's face. Rudy got up and shot his load on Jay's
belly, which was covered with Jay's own too.
Rudy farted.
They laughed.
Lewis said, "Next time you're in the city you should come by and see us."
Rudy looked at him strange. Jay lit a cigarette.
"Indeed," was all Jay said. Then he grabbed the thermos and left politely,
thanking them for the proof.
When he got home he washed and sat down to have a drink of lemonade, and he
no more than looked at the headline of the front page of the day's paper but
a militia of trucks and cars pulled into the yard. The party, as promised,
had arrived as a surprise.

Chapter Six.

Three hours later and the place was an opium den of yore, minus the opium
which simply isn't fashionable. Above all else, above the ashes overflowing
from glass ashtrays and rings of condensation on the coffee tables, above
the thin layer of smoke above all the dimly thinking heads, above all that,
there was the music. While some joints were being rolled they were listening
to some old Deep Purple and even a Credence Clearwater Revival was thrown
on. They talked about the weather. They talked about the war in Iraq. They
talked about the forest fires all around the world, the heat wave all around
the world, the violence all around the world. They benefit from the maladies
of the world, people come to them for sanctuary for seven dollars a gram and
twenty bucks a pill. They laugh as they slop their drinks, spill their
crumbs, light their cigarettes, they live like hedonistic kings, precisely
so, and they are well-dressed, smell good, and know their empires from
castle to crumb.
Jack Darnier is a wise old man. He was involved with the brutalities of the
Hell's Angels gang as far back as the late seventies when they moved up into
the Indian Reserves in northern Quebec. He was an insider. A snoop. He was
never a loyal member on either side, he was neither cop nor gang member,
just the same he was neither good nor bad. He simply made connections and
took things around with him. Jasper always said he was the worst man to have
standing at your back, for fear he'd stab you there when you needed his
support most, just the same he was the worst man to have standing at your
guard, as paranoia always got the best of him and he may turn around and
stab you right in the chest and walk away as you cried out an "et tu Brute"
chant. He was simply a man who knew people. He had long hair, quite gray,
and a bushy salt and pepper moustache. He smelled of beer constantly, but
cigars as well. He had a belly. He often wore nice jeans and a beat-up
leather jacket, in the suit jacket fashion with just a clean tee-shirt
underneath. Jay has known Jack all his life.
Sitting beside Jack on the smaller of the couches dividing the kitchen from
the living room is a sneaky character named Troy Aaronus. A gaunt European,
wearing a white silk shirt with the collar open and the pale of his neck
reaching down into his chest like a frost that goes deeper and deeper into
his soul. He sounds British, but his name suggests Mediterranean in some
way. He says he came from Egypt though. He is glaringly gaunt. He rarely
smiles, he merely looks around at everyone as if he were bored with them. He
knows people in the corporate world. Generally he sells to corporate brats,
the children of the men who run the city. It seems he's lived the millennia
always in search of something that happened before he was even born and now
he must settle with sitting on the couch with the dolt named Jack. Jasper
watches Troy closely because Troy doesn't say anything and he says that Troy
would be a good friend if only he'd get some conviction. Troy is the most
interesting man it would seem.
Then there's Lionel Andrews, retired porn star. "The Lion" was once the
greatest thing to hit the zombie screen. Then things went video in the 80's
and he got out while the getting was good. Now he just makes movies and
everyone's seen them. They're gay flicks. Nothing risky at all. He generally
sticks to the stereotype stuff, big brawny men who live off pasta and
steroids and the semen of big brawny men. The Lion smokes a lot of weed now.
He thinks he's so hilarious and his ego is what makes him funny. He knows he
has an ego and he cracks jokes about it all the time. He's wearing a tight
muscle shirt, he's strong, uber-muscular, with a pair of black pants and
shiny leather shoes, and he smells of something chemical mixed with the
natural vapors of the things he smokes. He seems nice. Jasper loves him,
Lionel's been here a lot. He's always on something, tonight for example,
he's on K. K, unlike something like E or LSD, where the effects are always
rather obvious, or as if you're 'tripping out' is rather like being drunk,
but very drunk, without any of the nasty side effects the next day.
These three are the three main ones. There are four others, like Old Henry
who'll pass out soon at the kitchen table as he keeps an eye on the
situation, and Pat Goldburn, a man who owns five of the hottest clubs in
town and seems addicted with Jasper's record collection, as he's never been
here before, Tommy Swanson, a blonde-haired chap who'll sit with Old Henry
till the guy finally gives out and then there was someone who Jay had never
met before and his eyes couldn't get off him all night.
Lee. Lee Andrews, as in The Lion's son, was sitting out on the veranda,
being anti-social and so on as if he were far too cool for these guys. The
moment he'd come through the door, the sexed Jay, from the chair by the
fire, saw him like an idol of gorgeous youth. He had dark hair, crisp
healthy skin, a thin body, and big brown eyes that noticed him as well. He
wore a black silk shirt with forties-gangster-style pinstripes, with black
pants. The shirt was open and a great collar flapped nicely due to the heat
most likely. His father jeered him constantly, embarrassing him to the point
that he finally stepped outside. Lee Andrews, the porn star's son, wearing
such rich clothes, anti-social. Jay couldn't stop thinking about him.
Jay made up some snacks in the kitchen while he drank a few gin and tonics
and brought them in. That was just when Lee got up and stepped outside. Jay
smiled at the crowd of men as they made jokes about him leaving as he'd
brought food out. Jay went back into the kitchen and wondered how it would
be possible for him to make conversation with the young guy. He lit a
cigarette and stared at his own reflection in the kitchen window about the
sink, pretending to be doing stuff involving silverware.
Old Henry said, "Hey Kid, you seem awfully distracted."
Jay turned and chuckled, "It's just real hot."
The old man smiled.
Jay wandered around with a wash cloth wiping off coffee tables and stuff.
The Lion said, "Jesus Fuck, you're such a house-bitch, I wish Lee's mother
was this good at cleaning up after the men."
"My son's hardly a house-bitch, it's just that this is his place a bit more
than it's mine. I just bring everyone here is all."
Jay smiled.
Troy smiled, "Where do the cigarette butts go?"
"Um, there's a pot on the veranda ..."
Troy smiled as if he knew what that meant.
Jack groaned, "Uh oh, are we going to need one of yer camera-men Lion?"
"What's that now?"
Jay looked at his father who sort of chuckled but then rolled his eyes and
lit his cigarette. He took the rancid washcloth back to the sink and grabbed
a dish to put all the butts in. As he gathered it all up Troy told him to
come over. He handed Jay a joint and told him it would break the ice. Jay
grabbed a drink and headed out.

Stepping outside was like entering another world. It felt a little cooler
out there, and it was definitely a lot darker. Lee was hard to see down at
the far end of the porch on the lounge where Jay and Jasper had pissed all
over each other the day before. First thing was first, Jay emptied out the
butts into the bucket. Then he wiped off his hands and headed over to the
lounge, stuck out his hands formally and said, "Hey Lee, I'm Jay."
"Yes, I know, we've already done this scene."
Jay laughed, "Oh yes, of course."
Lee was silent. Jay said, "Uh, here, I got us a joint, want some?"
"If you so desire," he said so crudely.
Feeling incredibly awkward Jay lit it and took a deep toke. He took a seat
with his drink in the chair pulled up at such an angle that one could put
their feet on the lounge if they so desired. The yard, the garden was
darkness, and it was besieged with the symphony of insects no one could see.
Not a breeze blew, only the roar of the intoxicated kings in the other room
and the clamor of their intoxicated minstrels entertained them. It suddenly
came to be realized by Jay that he would never be able to converse with Lee
with all that racket in the background.
"Would you like to step out onto the lawn and away from here? We could see
the stars? I know my way around fairly well."
Lee looked at him, rather strangely, as he didn't know how to interpret it.
"Ain't you a bit young for that?"
"For this?" He held up the joint, "Oh shit, I've been smoking for years."
"No, for propositioning men in the night."
Jay chuckled. "Do you think I'm coming onto you? I offered you the night sky
my friend, I was hardly wanting to fuck you."
Interestingly enough it was true. At that moment he'd reached a level of
comfort, instantly in fact, where he really didn't crave the obvious for
such a scene, with just such characters, he just wanted to talk with him.
"Actually, you know I think I will take some of that." Lee reached out and
took some of the joint. He sat up and fixed his hair, a wave of his cologne
wafted over and tickled Jay's nose. "I was so tired when I got here. Do you
mind if I do some?"
"Do some what?"
"Some K, my Dad gave me privileges to do it when I wanted to help me stay
awake."
"That's fine. But does this mean you'll be up all night?"
"Not really. I just can't sleep so I take this to keep me alert."
Jay stood up and walked over to the railing with his back to Lee. He took a
deep breath, he was sort of high now. Lee fixed himself up a bump and
snorted it.
Lee could be heard getting up.
"See, see up there, that's Pegasus. Bounding through the sky, he is."
Lee looked up but didn't know what to see.
"In the city you can't see the stars."
"Really? That sounds awful."
Lee chuckled, "You say that as if you didn't know that."
"Oh, I've never been in the city."
"Ever?"
"Never."
"Oh my God, you're just a country boy."
"Not just a country boy, but I would love to see the city."
"Even if it meant you couldn't see Pegasus bounding through the sky?"
"I'd even sacrifice the audience of constellations because you know, they're
silent anyways."
Lee smirked and leaned against the railing with his back to the yard beside
Jay. "No one applauds you in the city, you have to applaud yourself or
you'll go insane. Sometimes it seems there isn't even a story, just a bunch
of predictable scenes after one another."
"You know what I heard on the radio the other day?" He was referring to that
moment from the other day when he was listening to the criticisms of the
Chamber Music Festival.
"What's that Jay?"
"It was an applause. A whole bunch of people clapping their hearty hands
off. A wildly loud bunch of people, and I realized I couldn't even imagine
how many people there are out there. I sometimes feel agoraphobic when Dad
brings all these people here. I sometimes feel claustrophobic when I'm
alone. But you know, I think I'm just lonely, I'm very much alone Lee."
"So am I, it has nothing to do with where you live though."
"Then what has it to do with?"
"Well," he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, which led to Jay doing the
same, and then when they finally looked at each other, smoke spewing out of
their noses as if they were dragons, Lee said, "I suppose that just means
we're meant to fall in love."
Suddenly Jay felt intensely vulnerable in a brilliant way. It was as if
every cricket sang the blues for him, as if the kings were muted for him, as
the constellation applauded, if only silently, they applauded indeed for him
- but none of it mattered then, for there was only him, and then only his
face, and then only his eyes, and then his lips. They leaned in, knowing
why, they're bodies throbbing. Lee brought up his hand and held Jay's chin
at angle and then their lips met and a spell was cast as heated as all this
summer air, all the summer air in all the world in fact.
They took a walk around the garden then, they made each other laugh and
enjoyed the company they made for each other. Eventually they realized
they'd sobered up and hadn't even needed a drug or a drink, though
cigarettes were enjoyed immensely. They even got to hold hands and have long
looks into each other. A car could be heard leaving, then another, then they
walked back to the veranda and began dancing to the song that could be heard
pumping out through the windows.
They danced slowly, not saying a word. It was as if they'd been meant for
this dance all along. Troy was suddenly leaning against the frame of the
door and smiling. The Lion came over to see what he was looking at. He
called Jasper over. Troy said, "Love is universal, dangerous, and it ruins,
but so sweet to look at, so incredible to hold." The Lion said, "This is
what I wish to capture in a film."
But Jasper didn't say anything.
"Come on Lee, we're outta here."
They looked at each other. It was as if the world were ending suddenly.
"If you're ever in the city, look me up."
"I will," but he was already defeated, for he knew he would most likely
never not see the stars at night.
"You're the only one who has ever held me in such a way that I could hear
the constellations applauding me."
Jay gushed. "You're the only one who's let me."
Then they were parted.

Jay cleaned up while his father, surely just quite stoned, sat in the corner
and stared while Jimi played on the stereo. Everyone was gone. It was almost
dawn by now. Jay kept yawning and saying he couldn't wait to go to bed, and
that the party had been good. Jasper said nothing.
He was leaned over the kitchen table when his father came over to him and
pushed his crotch into the denim-covered ass of his son. Jay stood up and
laughed, but his father grabbed him by the throat and pushed his son down on
the table onto this back. Jay kicked and screamed. His father yelled, "Shut
the fuck up you little slut."
"What are you doing?"
Jasper first spit on his son then leaned right into his ear and yelled with
all his might, "You're mine!"
Jay scrambled to protect his head from the violence of the voice. All he
could hear was his father panting deeply, as if searching for something more
terrible to say, but then he felt his father's hot tongue licking up the
side of his face. Then he bit his ear. Then his father began rubbing against
his body heavily. The weight of him pressed down on him like the heat. His
father held his hands at his side. He could tell his father was horny, he
could feel the urge pushing at his stomach.
"You're nothing without me. You will never be anything but mine. You'll be
nothing but the son of a whore and a criminal when you hit the street - do
you know what you are, you're shit. But you're mine - you hear that you
little slut."
He stood up and Jay breathed. "Come with me," he said.
He followed his father up the stairs and his father made him strip as he did
the same. His father instructed him to lay on the bed and spread his legs.
Suddenly he was slapped, without warning, with the belt his father had worn.
It stung like electricity through his whole body. He moaned and whimpered.
"Please don't hurt me."
"Fuck you slut, just keep your dirty mouth shut."
He obeyed.
He received another whack and bit into his lip. Again and again he was
spanked. He thought for sure he was bleeding.
"Now sit up."
Again he obeyed. His father's cock, like a demonic serpent, stared him in
the face and he was commanded to suck it. "And you better not bite it or
I'll slap your face this time." So he put it in his mouth, and his father
shoved it in. He gagged and choked but his father was relentless. He
couldn't breathe but his father pushed on. Fucking his son's face as
punishment was a seemingly appropriate thing to do for someone who so nearly
betrayed him. Then he pulled out and pissed right into his son's face and
Jay just knelt there and took it. It was all less romantic than that other
day. He felt so humiliated. He kept hearing, just under his father's breath,
the etchings in stone, "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine." He felt less
and less like a person and more and more like a possession, a mere object of
lust.
"Daddy you're scaring me."
His father slapped him. His head turned with the force of it. His father
stared at the moment. Then he mumbled, "Go to your room."
In the darkness of his room he took solace in nothing around him, everything
reminded him of the trap he was in, of the doom that always loomed forever
more.
As he fell asleep he felt more than lonely. He felt trapped. Afraid.
Faraway. Desperate. Claustrophobic and agoraphobic all at the same time.
Isolated and anonymous. The son of a whore and a criminal, truths that hurt
more than fiery fists and wreaking piss and the sting of a leather belt
together.
Then he said to the constellations, "Won't you help me please, I can't stand
the sight of you any longer."

Chapter Seven


He awakened to the call of Camille Saint-Saens' "Danse Macabre" with the
humidity saturating every pore of his being. A strange wind blew though, the
violin threaded itself about it with the looming sense of doom. He could
tell by the silence of the house that his father had already left and
lingering on the cusp of his memory was that final moment from last night.
What, was he not allowed to have fun with Lee because he was a porn star's
son, because he was a porn star himself, because of his affiliation with the
drug business, as if to say he weren't allowed to mix business with
pleasure? He rolled over on his side, unless it was to mean he wasn't
supposed to like anyone but Jasper. Could his father be jealous of someone
his son's own age? What would a jealous man do in this sort of situation?
Surely nothing too crazy anyway. It was his father, and his father could
never be too cruel, surely.
He'd tossed enough in his sheets to conjure a boner. He tickled it lightly.
He had to piss. He got up sleepily, cranked up the tune a bit, headed into
the washroom where he let it all out. His father had left a good chunk of a
joint in the ashtray in the washroom and because it was so hot and the heat
was getting to him he decided to just have the rest of it anyway.
As he smoked it on the toilet he could see that the sky wasn't blue, it was
a hazy color, like smoke from a day-old joint in a dark bathroom. After he
was done he got in the shower and stood there for a long time contemplating
the languor and smirking smile of Lee. Lee had been so sweet, so entirely
different than anything he'd ever known. Not to mention gorgeous, and kind,
princely, he was also an ear to chatter to. He wished he knew someone he
could be like he was last night with all the time. As the water ran through
his hair he realized it was getting longer than he'd ever let it and he
decided that perhaps he'd let it grow. Then he decided it was time a lot of
things changed. Perhaps it was time this bird flew. He felt so afraid
though. He felt a cowardice creeping up like the steam unlike at any time in
his life. It was somewhat like the nudity at the beach the other day, and
yet really nothing happened because of it. Then he thought logically, but
something had happened, that peculiarity from the night before.
The brutality of his father's face as he'd hit him, he still hurt. He felt
like a fly bouncing off a window, but what of the glass? He felt like a rat
in a cage, but what of the bars? He felt like a collection of cigarette
butts and pebbles and insults in a jar, but what of the rest of the world?
Where does Lee live, he wondered, what is the city?
He wiped the condensation off the mirror and looked at himself. He was pale,
but had very little bruising. He looked at his butt, it was still red.
Back in his room it was Albertini's "Melancholia" and he sat on the side of
his bed to listen longingly to it.
His cock was still hard, he was sickened by the sight of it.
"Look at the trouble you've caused in our little paradise."
Then he heard a car down below. He looked out his window and the cop had
just driven in the yard. When he got out of the car someone else got out of
the passenger seat. A young man, probably very young, in his early teens,
with a scruffy, curly hair and a tight tee-shirt on and a pair of shorts.
Jay thought it was probably one of their sons of nephews.
He watched them, with such passionate disinterest he thought he'd fall
asleep if he let himself. It was so hot, he could barely stand it.
It was so quiet in the house. He could sit there and hear his own heart
beating.
He wanted more weed. He threw on a pair of underwear and headed downstairs.
He knew it was kept in a jar above the fridge. He found it and the pipe. He
went out on the back porch to smoke it. He saw his mother's grave stone. The
whore.
His mother had been a whore. She got pregnant and his father had told her
he'd help her raise it, but they'd do it far from the city where the child
would never know what they had been, nor the lifestyle that had made them
what they were. Had they succeeded he would have been as happy as he wished
he was. He wasn't happy. His mother was probably rolling in her grave at the
thought of what his father was doing. There are no pictures of her. There
are very short stories of her. She simply was, and she simply had to be, for
all people have mothers, especially the sons of whores.
As he smoked he wished he could figure out a way to get back at his father.
He heard some music coming from down the hill.
He stood and tried to see what was going on. His boner raged and it won the
battle of wits that it would inevitably win anyway.
He ran upstairs and pulled out the old telescope to see what they were doing
down there. He looked in the living room window but there was nothing there.
He looked into the bedroom but there was nothing. He figured they had to be
on the veranda, which he couldn't see.
It was well after lunch, not the early morning he was used to getting up in.
He decided it would be alright if he just casually showed up at his
neighbors place.
He threw on a pair of jeans and headed down.
When he arrived it was the White Stripe's "Seven Nation Army" playing. He
called out a few greetings but then made his way through the house. Then he
heard Lewis singing along terribly and he smiled.
When he arrived on the porch Lewis was dancing around with the little boy,
as if trying to make each other dizzy. Jay laughed. Rudy saw Jay and greeted
him nervously.
Rudy started rambling, it was apparent he was slightly drunk.
"He found some kid at work today on the side of the road in the middle of
nowhere, a runaway apparently ..."
"In the city?"
"Of course in the city."
"What's his name?"
Rudy looked at him strangely and joked, "Meat, I mean Matt."
Jay looked at him nervously. "Meat?"
"Lewis says he's nothing, we can do him and drop him off tomorrow on our way
back to the city after feeding him and stuff. It's no big deal."
"You mean you're going to do him?"
The kid looked as though he'd been hit on the head. His eyes were distant
and vague.
"Whatever, he's nothing, you can have some of him too. Hell, boy, we'll make
it an orgy, you can have some of me too."
"Only if I get some of you Jay-boy," Lewis jeered.
Jay smiled. "How old is the boy?"
"Twelve he says," Rudy said. He went over to a table and snorted something,
"Want some coke?"
"Nah thanks."
"Ah, come on."
"No, I had too much fun last night."
"Jerkin' off," Lewis joked.
"Weed and K." He rolled his eyes.
"Alright kid-o."
The boy asked if they could stop dancing, he felt a little sick. Lewis
whined that it was a lot of fun but then gave up and gave the kid a can of
Pepsi.
The boy sat there quietly.
Lewis came up and said, "Sounded like you guys had a crazy party up there
last night."
"Yah, it was fun."
"Did you meet anyone?" Rudy asked, rubbing his nose.
"I did in fact."
"Well, spill your guts."
"His name was Lee Andrews."
Rudy looked at Lewis, "Hey, isn't there a porn star named something like
that?"
"It's the one alright. He's so nice."
"You met a porn star? How was the sex?"
Jay laughed, "No, we didn't do it, we just walked around while the guys were
inside laughing at us."
"Lewis, Lewis, it sounds like love."
"Jay," Lewis said, "you're a nice kid."
"Thanks Lewis," Jay smiled.
"Now, come on, let's fuck the brains out of this little kid."
"Are you sure we should?"
"Who is he gonna tell, the cops?"
There was an eerie silence where it was obvious Lewis was the only one who
found that funny.
"Besides," he went on, "it's our anniversary today, and the boy's our gift."
"The coke too."
"Indeed, and the coke, my Rudy-boy loves his coke."
The boy was still sitting there.
Lewis walked over to the door of the cabin and said he'd be right back.
It was just Rudy and the kid and Jay and two cigarettes burning away.
"Come here little boy."
The kid ran over. He stood in front of Rudy with a pout on his face. He
looked pathetic. All Jay could think about was how jaded this child was, and
how sad his future looked, if he had any at all.
"You're such a sweet boy. We won't hurt you much." He pet the boy's arms and
lifted up his shirt a bit.
	Jay moaned, "What a horrible thing to say."
"Ah not really."
All of a sudden Lewis popped through the door. He was wearing his full
uniform. The dark blue uniform stretched across his broad chest and glorious
thighs was something to die for. The little kid whimpered as if the sight
frightened him. The best part was the way his utility belt dangled
perilously off the hip and his hat teetered a bit to one side and the dark
sunglasses reflected all the crimes one could possibly imagine.
His smile was sadistic.
"Hey boy," he hollered, "get over here and kiss my boots."
The boy hesitated and looked at the polished leather as wide as his head.
"Did you hear me you little punk kid - lick them clean."
The boy got down on his hands and knees and began to kiss them nervously.
Lewis looked up, lowered his glasses and said, "Now that's the respect one
should always get as an officer of the law."
Jay rolled his eyes, Rudy clapped like the coke-head he always seemed to be.
Rudy got up, "Oh hon, I'm so horny, let's take him and give him a great
fucking right now."
"Oh you're so impatient."
"Let's soak him first."
"With our piss," Jay said.
"Yes, Jay," Lewis approved.
Rudy told the boy to get undressed.
"No - Let's all undress him," Lewis said.
"I can't wait to fuck him."
"I want to suck him real good."
"I want to see what he looks like wrapped around your cock Lewis."
"Don't tear him in two."
The little boy's eyes watered.
"Now we're just freaking him out."
"Don't cry little guy."
"Come on inside," Rudy said, and took him by the hand to lead him in.
Lewis and Jay remained outside with one cigarette going.
Lewis was rubbing his cock through his pants, "Ah kid, I'm so horny."
"So am I."
"Oh yah, you gonna do this kid too."
"Doesn't it seem wrong?"
"Doesn't it though, I mean, he's so young - but he can trust me, you can
trust me, I'm a good guy, I just know when a life is wasted anyway."
"Do you think my life is wasted," Jay said.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing," Jay said.
"Oh well, let's go fuck this kid and have ourselves a real party."
They went through the door and into the bedroom. The boy was sitting there
listening to Rudy rambling about his youth.
"Don't scare the kid," Jay joked.
The boy stood up and came over to Jay and whispered into his ears, "I like
you."
Rudy swooned in a stoned sort of way.
"Do you want me to take your clothes off?"
He nodded.
"Okay then."
Jay started by removing his shirt. He was not twelve, he seemed much
younger.
Jay played with his young nipples and licked them, tickled them, trying to
make the boy laugh but it seemed he didn't get the joke yet. Jay was down on
his knees. Then he lowered the boy's baggy pants. His penis was shrunken and
very small.
"Do you have to pee little guy?"
He nodded.
"Well, you can go right here." Jay pointed in his mouth.
The boy shook his head.
"You don't really have much choice."
The boy got ready and Jay lay under the penis and took off his shirt.
Before long a small stream of very hot piss, hot little boy pee, had shot
out of him and into his mouth.  Jay swallowed it like candy.
"Fuck you're hot," Rudy said.
"You soothed the savage beast," Lewis said.
"Can I suck on your pee-pee real softly lil' guy," Jay asked.
"Yes sir."
Jay leaned up and took it all in his mouth and suckled it. Jay could feel it
getting hard in his mouth.
Suddenly Lewis was like, "Enough of this shit," though, grabbed the kid and
threw him on the bed, whipped out his long piece of meat and said, "Now
you're going to take this kid and like it."
"No!"
"Screamin' ain't gonna help your ass now boy."
Rudy dumped some lube on it just before he shoved it hard up the boy's anus.
The boy cried, bawled in fact. Then he just stopped crying and stared
forward blankly.
Rudy got up in front of the boy and started jerking using his tears as lube.
They'd grown blind to innocence. Lewis pulled out and there was blood all
over his cock, he complained that he didn't want to get any on his uniform.
He took off his pants. Rudy took over from there and shoved his cock into
the boy's ass and pumped it with the ferocity of someone who couldn't feel
anything anyway. They were just shaking the kid's body on their organs. Rudy
was getting upset.
"This ain't no fun, why ain't the kid doin nuthin?"
"He's in pain, he's passed out," Jay said.
"Ah fuck. Now what are we going to do?"
"Let's fuck Jay."
Jay looked at them.
Suddenly he looked outside and noticed it was late.
He thought about how his father had freaked out.
"Can we get you to suck us a bit, we'll suck you?"
He looked out the window and saw his house up there and thought, You know
what, fuck him.
"Sure."
Jay got down on his knees and Lewis walked over and shoved his long shaft
into Jay's face. Jay took it in and sucked it like a pro, massaging it
quickly, wrapping his tongue around the head and pulling, pulling at the
sack with his fingers, basically ravishing the cock into giving up its juice
as quickly as possible. Lewis was moaning and twitching. He kept looking
over at the kid on the bed.
Suddenly he came and he shot it all over Jay's face. Rudy popped his in
afterward, into the guy's cum-slopped mouth. Jay worked the same vacuum on
him as he had his lover. This cock was much easier and the guy came quicker,
and the load went all over his face again.
The boy stirred.
Jay feeling incredibly horny now, got up, walked over to the boy and stuck
his hard cock up the boy's ass and pumped it in the loose, wet ass. The boy
cried and whimpered. Jay pulled out and jerked his load and laughed even as
the boy opened his mouth to take it.
Jay got off him and went to wash up. He had to go.
As he walked up the hill he thought he'd heard thunder and was so glad that
it was going to rain at last.

Chapter Eight

When he walked in the lane a cold wind blew as he realized his father was
already home. He was walking as if he'd been having sex though he didn't
know it. He felt sticky and hot and was sure his face wreaked of the boy's
piss. He felt impregnated with guilt. He was afraid of the beating he'd get
this time.
He walked in and the house was still and dark, as if no one were there.
"Hello."
Nothing.
He looked around the living room for any sign of anything, no one was on the
porch. He went upstairs, his father's room was empty, and the bathroom was
empty. As he walked to his room he thought his father was maybe in the Green
House working at something, but then he saw him sitting in the quiet and
darkness, brooding like a dark dragon. Then, to his horror, he realized he'd
left the telescope set up ...
"Dad?"
"Where were you?"
He hesitated.
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Not really."
He stood and screamed, "Liar!"
Jay cowered. "Dad, don't hurt me."
"Make it easy on yourself then, get over here."
He braved defiance, "No Dad."
His father breathed fire.
In one or two strides his father was on him and pounding his head. Jay
struggled but then submitted and was next feeling the bed beneath him.
"I'm going to fuck you like you fucked that little kid down there."
"No Dad."
"Why, are you afraid it'll hurt?"
His father was tearing his son's clothes off. Jay was fighting him harshly.
"Fuck off you fucking cock-faced slut," his father smashed him across the
back of the head. "You're worse than your fucking mother. Take it like a man
you fucking shit."
"No, please don't."
"Screamin' ain't gonna save your ass now."
Suddenly he felt his father's dry cock fighting to get up inside him. He
squirmed, knowing how difficult it would be if he were to keep moving. His
father finally grabbed him by the hands and held him down. With his other
hand he brutally shoved his fingers in and Jay screamed.
At that moment thunder definitely crackled outside and a cold wind brought
with it rain. It got very dark suddenly.
Then his father's cock worked up inside him and he began humping his son
ferociously, growling as he plowed his puckering virgin ass. "Fuck yah,
you're so tight."
"Ow Dad, no, please no."
"This is what you get when you mess around with me. You hear me boy."
"No - let me go Dad, I don't want you anymore."
"You're never getting away from me."
Thunder crashed and shook the house. The storm was very close.
"No, please, I hate it here, I hate you."
"Shut up or I'll just tie you here and fuck you all the time and you'll just
die here. Alone. No one will even notice."
Jay cried.
His father pushed and pushed and pulled at his hair and slapped his head.
"Fuck ya, bitch, take it like this. You're mine bitch."
"No!"
Just then lightning struck a tree and it fell into the garden. Jasper
relaxed and Jay shoved him off and started running. Jasper wasn't far
behind.
Jay ran down the stairs but his father got a hold of him at the bottom and
threw him against the table. Jay missed it and fell on the floor, by now his
head was bleeding. The storm raged. The wind blew like ancient justice, the
lightning crashed like Olympus in full-tantrum, the thunder growled like
beasts of legends time forgot.
All this and his father resumed pounding his ass.
Jay could barely see because of the pain, because of the violence, because
of the darkness of the night, because of the darkness of the storm.
He looked outside and for a moment there he saw something. He focused and
his father looked. It looked like something in the garden. A ... ghost ...
"What are you looking at you little shit?"
The two of them made eye contact. Jay reached and happened to grab a pepper
mill there and he swung it up and smacked his father, and in two steps Jay
was out the front door running in the whirling madness of the storm. His
father yelled at him that he couldn't get away.
Jay ran and defeated any concern for the storm with blind determination to
reach the cabin at the bottom of the hill. He didn't even realize he wasn't
wearing anything till he tripped and rolled a bit down the hill getting
scrapes and mud everywhere. The rain coming down the hill washed over him
like a malicious creek. He got up and ran. Then he heard the truck starting
at the top of the hill. He was almost there.
He ran in the lane and up to the door he knocked and then ran in.
Rudy and Lewis were doing it on the kitchen table. The music, Chemical
Brothers' "Block Rockin' Beat", was blaring.
As soon as Rudy saw him he screamed.
Lewis became a cop again. A good cop.
"What happened to you?"
Suddenly everything was about what was going to come out of Jay's mouth.
"Help me, my father's been raping me and he's on his way down here to get me
and it won't be good, he's fucking pissed and he won't stop for anything."
Lewis, naked and hard and sweating, said, "He'll stop for me."
He ran into the bedroom just as Jasper came through the door. Jay ran over
to Rudy. Rudy held him and told Jasper to get the fuck out of the cabin.
"Give me my fucking son."
"Never."
"Never?"
"Never you fucking creep."
"I know what you did to that little boy, my son's been watching you from his
bedroom with a telescope and he's seen everything, I've seen everything -
give me back my son or I'll go to the fucking cops."
Rudy looked at Jay and was about to surrender.
"No - don't give up like this."
"Give him to me or I'll blow your fucking brains out." Jasper revealed a gun
and aimed it.
Just then Lewis came through the door aiming his gun and yelling for Jasper
to drop it, that he was a cop ...
Just then Rudy hugged Jay ...
Just then Jasper looked his son in the eyes ...
Just then the power went out ...
Thunder blasted, there was a gun shot, and then another, and then the
lightning flashed and the music stopped and there was darkness.
Lewis was yelling something ...
The kid in the back room was crying again.
Jay suddenly felt Rudy falling out of his arms.
"Rudy, what's wrong ..."
"What's going on?"
"Who's been hurt ..."
There was chaos and screaming and moaning and someone was looking for a
light. Suddenly the light came on.
Rudy was hit and bleeding all over Jay. Jay eased him to the floor and Lewis
yelled out a curse to God. It was one of the most chilling moments that Jay
will ever see.
Then he turned and saw that his father was shot in the chest and he was
laying on his side on the floor panting and holding his wound and dying
He didn't know what to do. He wanted to run over to him. He wanted to spit
at the same time. He didn't know how to feel.
He stood up, covered in mud, blood and bruises and shivering and walked over
to his father. He leaned down and rubbed the side of his father's face.
His father was trying to say something - and if he could have been heard he
was trying to say (if life had subtitles the audience would simply read it
where as Jay could not hear it), "My sin has killed me, I will burn in
Hell."
"Hush now father, I suppose it was all meant to be like this."
Just then Jasper Goshen died and everything changed - everything ...


Chapter Nine.

Three weeks later he sat in the living room staring at the two marble stones
in the garden with a sad grin on his face. It was really very quiet in the
house now. He smoked a lot more now. He wore nicer clothes though, and he
was letting his hair grow. Lewis was gone. Everything was over now. History
was already history. No one came to see his father being buried, it was a
very private ceremony.
No one even noticed he was gone it seemed. It was clear his religion
required no papacy, already kings were considering the territory that was
once a strong-walled monopoly.
The shadows seemed to snicker as they contemplated the fate of the man who'd
tried to protect his son from the world.
Jay listened to the sound of the world now.
He would never have to worry about anything ever again.
Suddenly a car pulled in the lane. It was the first sound Jay had heard in
forever.
He went to the door, and looking out there he saw what he wanted to see.
"Are you ready to go?"
"You bet." He grabbed a couple of suit cases from by the door and before he
shut the door he said good bye for the last time to the trap that was
Paradise.
"Are you sad to be leaving Jay?"
"Not a bit Lee, not a bit."

The end.