dontravis.com blog post #615
Image Courtesy of Freepik
Well, Dru
finally got together with Alene. Now will there be blowback from her twin
brother Sam? Let’s find out.
****
TRICKY
I encountered no Big Brother
hostility, so either Alene hadn’t told Sam about our intimate hours or he
figured that was her business. In fact, the week went well.
I was recovering from the loss
of my wife well enough to start work on another project I’d had in mind for the
last year or so. My sister and brother-in-law’s computer system wasn’t as
elaborate as mine at home, but I’d brought a pretty stout laptop with me, and
between their equipment and mine, I had what I needed. California wasn’t
calling, at least not yet. I wanted some more of the luscious next-door
neighbor, but she stayed close to home other than weekends. School work, I imagined.
Then, as we neared the
weekend, my brother-in-law organized a fishing trip. An associate of his at
work had a secluded cabin on a lake not far away, and he insisted Sam and I accompany
him. Sam had a Saturday class, according to Alene, so I counted on him to put a
hole in that boat, but he apparently thought it was okay to skip the class. Once
I was lassoed, I tried to salvage things by inviting the distaff side, but
neither Bonnie nor Alene was interested. Nor was Lynne when she found shed be
the only girl on a male fishing trip.
So here I was, going on a
fishing trip I had no interest in. Never been a fisherman… nor a hunter for
that matter. But on Friday afternoon a couple of hours before we were to leave,
things got better. Chuck’s firm had a crisis on one of their projects, and he
had to cancel. But instead of letting things die a natural death, he insisted
Sam and I proceed with the trip as planned. Sam, it seemed, knew where the
lake, and indeed, the cabin were. Apparently he’d been there before.
So about four that afternoon, I
climbed in a SUV with a guy whose sister I had shagged… and who provoked erotic
thoughts in my head himself, to head off into the mountains with rods and
reels, and two pistols as snake guns. In
my mind, they appeared to be dueling pistols. Talk about testy!
****
Actually, the trip to the lake
was rather pleasant. Sam didn’t initiate much conversation, but he answered
questions fully and easily when they were put to him. As this was totally
foreign country to me, I had plenty of questions. As we headed north to Santa
Fe and beyond on the way to some lake called Cochiti, the landscape constantly
changed from high-desert panoramas to narrower, more restricted mountain views,
but it was all interesting.
The cabin turned out to be a
two-bedroom log affair perched near the lake on some high ground. Somewhere
during our afternoon-long dialogue, I picked up the information that the land
was owned by a local Indian tribe who, in turn, leased the ground beneath these
cabins for something like ninety-nine years. The fact that the property
reverted to the control of the tribe, buildings and all, at the end of the
lease set my teeth on edge, but it wasn’t anything for me to worry about.
We arrived too late to do any
fishing, but used an excellent butane stove to cook ourselves a couple of
fillets we found in the freezer. After that, we retired to the veranda
overlooking the water and studied the shimmering lake by moonlight. After a
while, we lapsed into a comfortable silence until Sam asked a question.
“What time do you want to get
up to start fishing?”
“Dunno. Hadn’t given it any
thought.”
Then he shook me. “Do fish get
up early?”
“You’re asking me? Aren’t you
a fisherman?”
“Nah. Last time I came up with
Chuck, I spent most of the time hiking.” He eyeballed me through the moonlight.
“Aren’t you?”
“Maybe once in my life when my
old man dragged me on a trip. Crap, maybe we oughta head back to Albuquerque.”
“I dunno. It’s nice up here,
and there’s some good hiking. We can go back tomorrow, if we decide that’s the
thing to do.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We sat in some more
comfortable quiet, occasionally broken by the cry of a loon—isn’t there always
a loon on lakes?—until the temperature dropped enough to send us back inside.
Sam gravitated to a phonograph
and started shuffling through albums. “Mind if I put on some music?” he asked.
“So long as it doesn’t blast
my eardrums.”
He laughed. “I like show
tunes, oldies, that kind of thing.
“More my type.”
The record he selected was a
Perry Como album, slow and mellow., causing me to blurt out that his sister was
a good dancer.
Better put a halter on my
tongue. No telling where that would lead.
“Yeah, she is. Says you are too.”
“That so? From what I saw
while you and Lynne were on the floor, so are you.”
He held out his arms and
danced with himself for a moment, prompting me to lose my head.
“As a matter of fact, I
wondered what it would be like to dance with you.”
He halted and smiled. “Won’t
have any better opportunity to find out than right now.” He walked into my
arms, but I noticed he reversed things so that he led.
At first it was stiff and
awkward. Finally, he cuffed my chin and told me to relax. Then he pulled me
close, and I don’t remember much after that except it felt right and natural to
be in this young man’s arms. He moved smoothly to the beat of the music and
hummed along with Como, carrying me right along with him.
The song ended, and he held me
tight until the next one—even slower and mellower—began. I laid my head on his
broad shoulder and relaxed even more, allowing our groins to press together. There
was magic in the moment.
I don’t know how many tunes
played before the album ended. But as the played-out record went round and
round with a scratching noise, we stood looking at one another. Those green
eyes reminded me of fire opals, and I felt myself succumbing to them.
“W-what happens n—” He cut me
off with his lips, and I felt the kiss right down in my bones.
He came up for air and stared
some more. “I dunno. What do you—”
I shut him up with my lips and
pressed myself against his hard, lean body.
When we parted, he had a loopy
grin on his handsome face. “You know this is gonna be tricky when we go home,
don’t you?”
“That’s then. This is now.”
The grin grew broader.
“Where.”
“Bedroom.”
Actually, the tricky part was
figuring out who did what to whom. But we managed. In fact we managed several
times over that magical weekend.
****
Guess Dru’s
not going to have any trouble. Unless it’s deciding which twin he wants. Or can
he keep both? Should he return to California or stay in Albuquerque. Like he
said… it’s Tricky.
Stay safe and stay strong.
Now my
mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say… so
say it!
A link
to The Cutie-Pie Murders:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/ambxgy7e5ndmimk/CutiePieMurders%5BThe%5D.zip?dl=0
My
personal links:
Email: don.travis@aol.com.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3
See you next Thursday.
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