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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Pendleton Omens - 22. Chapter 22

“Hey, Dad,” was the first thing Scoot told me. Then he grinned and added, “Nice jeans.”

I turned to Julie Kent, but she was already walking away.

“It’s all right,” Scoot said. “She told me she was going to bring you.”

I looked at him.

“You could say something,” he went on.

I was still absorbing the fact that everything I’d been told for the last hour was a lie. And that everything Julie Kent told me on Tuesday was as wrong. And that Scoot was squatting in some kind of cage.

“Who’s house is this?” I asked.

Scoot laughed. “That’s not the first thing I expected you to say.” When I didn’t answer, he simply said, “Julie’s.”

“And what are you doing?” I asked. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Not really. It started as a bet.”

He stopped there.

“And?” I went on.

“And... well... I liked it.”

“Get out of there.”

“No.”

It wasn’t something I expected him to say. I’d spoken casually. No anger. No surprise. He’d answered as calmly.

“What?” I asked.

He grinned again. “This is where it gets hard.”

I laughed. Because I didn’t know what else to do

The cage was maybe four feet long but not as wide or high. The bars were black steel, no heavier than an oven rack’s. But they were further apart. The floor was solid, black wood or something, and there was a mat. Scoot was now sitting on it, his ankles crossed, his arms looped around his knees, with one hand holding the other wrist. His hair was slightly shaggier than usual, though his face was cleanly shaved. I thought he was wearing swim trunks, but when I knelt to be at his level, I realized he wasn’t.

“A bet?” I said.

He laughed. “Yeah.”

I sat on the floor facing him, my ankles crossed, my arms looping my knees, and one hand holding the other. I had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation.

“Have you been here all month?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“Like that?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

He smiled again, and I wasn’t sure he wasn’t laughing at me.

“I told you before. I like it.” He grinned again. “It keeps getting more interesting.”

I let my knees drop and sat native fashion, elbows by my sides. I was looking Scoot squarely in the eyes.

“I don’t understand this.”

“Oh, come on, Dad. It’s not hard.”

I waited. “Go ahead.”

He looked right back at me. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“A lot of it’s not gonna make sense when I put it in words. It’s like sex.”

“Is this about sex?”

“Some. Yes. What else? But I haven’t had sex in a month. Not since I’ve been in here.”

“Don’t you want to get out?” I asked. “You can barely move. You can’t even stretch.”

Scoot was six-one, a few inches taller than I was. And I would have been cramped in that cage.

“You’d be surprised what you can do,” he said. “When you want to. I’ve been working out every day. In fact, that’s most of what I do. And a lot of thinking. But you can do all kinds of exercises.”

To prove that, he quickly slipped onto his back, pushed his folded legs up against one side of the cage and his head against the other. He clasped his hands behind his neck and rapidly did a dozen crunches.

“Of course, it’s hard to do push-ups,” he said. “But you can do modified ones.”

He flipped onto all fours, wedged his legs tightly against one side of the cage, stretched his hands to the other, and he did a set of half push-ups that looked more like he was bobbing in prayer. After twenty of them, he went back to sitting position.

“You do pretty well,” I admitted.

He just smiled. It was hard not to notice, especially when he was lying on his back, that he was slightly aroused. He noticed my noticing, even though his ankles were now crossed in front of him again.

“I told you it was partly about sex. And you can’t think it’s not hot being caught by your father doing something like this.”

I thought about that. “Is that why Julie brought me here?”

“No, she wants me out of here. The month’s more than up. Our bet’s over.”

“How much was it for? I hope it’s worth something.”

Maybe her Mercedes or Porsche. Either would nicely replace his Mustang.

“It’s a gentleman’s bet,” he said.

“You did this for nothing?”

“I did it because I’ve been high all month. Without drugs. Without even a beer after the first couple of days. You just can’t believe how it feels.”

“Is that why you don’t come out?”

“You got it.”

I studied the cage. It looked pretty flimsy. Scoot seemed to know what I was thinking.

“It’s surprisingly strong,” he said. “It’s built to hold a Great Dane. Did you meet her?”

“No.”

“She must be upstairs, sleeping. She’s only in the cage during parties. When there are guests.”

He seemed so relaxed, it was irritating. And all I had was questions.

“How long have you known Julie Kent?”

“Since I came to LA.”

So part of what she told me was true.

“She’s a friend of one of my teachers,” he went on.

“Bill Norris?”

“Yes. She said she mentioned that. They used to be lovers, actually.”

I wanted to ask if Scoot was her lover now but knew better. Again, Scoot seemed to know what I was thinking. Only he went past that.

“You can’t take this seriously, Dad. Remember the first time you got high? Or drunk? Or the first time you had sex? That’s all this is. One long, rolling high.”

“There must be easier ways.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I’ll be here forever. But it’s like getting out of the lake when you’re a kid. C’mon, Mom, five more minutes. Five more minutes, please.”

“Your mother won’t understand this, either.”

Scoot laughed. “Maybe we’ll both be surprised.”

I doubted that. “What if she’d found you instead?” I asked him. “She almost came out here to look.”

“You’re kidding?”

“She’s been crazy for the past three weeks.”

“How could you tell?”

It was an old family joke. Which seemed especially unfair at the moment. Which I told him. “I happen to love your mother,” I added.

He let that one go but pointed out, “You’ve got to admit, she gets focused.”

“Wouldn’t you, if your son suddenly disappeared?” He shrugged, and I thought of another question. “Is that why you did this?”

Scoot laughed. “Just to upset you and Mom? Oh, come on, I’ve got better things to do.” He smiled for a moment, then he seemed to be showing off.

“There are just so many reasons, Dad,” he went on. “That’s what’s so surprising. You take one apart, and it splits into a hundred others. Examine that, and it divides. And you can bet I’ve had plenty of time to think.”

I thought for a moment. “I’ve got too many questions,” I said. “I’ve got to take them in some kind of order.”

“You always were very logical. I knew if anyone found me, it would be you.”

“I nearly didn’t,” I admitted. “I wouldn’t have if Julie Kent hadn’t told me. I was about to file a report.”

“With the police?”

“The local guys, yeah. You’ve buried yourself well.”

He seemed to consider that. “Julie said you paid all my bills. You shouldn’t have. That’s the one reason I was planning to come out.”

“As opposed to all the people you had worried?”

“Who?”

“Me. Your mom. Jamie. Zak. Amy.”

“Zak’ll laugh his ass off. And I’m surprised about Amy.”

“Why? How long’ve you been seeing her?”

He needed to remember. “Some time in the fall. But I probably mean less to her than you think.”

It seemed like an excuse. You’ve got a pig for a son, one of the women had said. Well, I suppose any young guy could seem that way.

“I spoke with Amy this morning,” I told Scoot. “Right after Julie called. She was very excited to hear you were safe.”

He grinned. “That’s great.”

I just looked at him.

“Oh, shit, Dad. She’s a beautiful woman. And we’re terrific friends. But if I didn’t marry Carla, I’m not about to marry Amy. And no matter what you and Mom did, I’m not close to being ready to get married.”

“That’s what Zak said when I talked with him. Though he said that Amy could change his mind.”

“You talked with Zak?”

“I’ve contacted everyone on your computer.”

“I kinda figured.” He grinned again. “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” But he didn’t seem upset by that.

“This is going to hurt Amy,” I pushed on.

He dodged again. “You’re misreading this. Honest. We both fall in love very easily. But we get over it. And there are plenty of other guys... plenty of women...”

I smiled. “If I took a picture of you right now, there might not be.”

He laughed. “You’re wrong, Dad. They’d just go Wow! Domesticated! I want him!” He laughed again. “And take a picture. Show it to Mom. Julie’s taken several dozen.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry. You can see my face clearly. And the cage. But they don’t show my dick. Though just the thought that someone else knows... Knows what I’m doing... That someone can pull out the pictures and prove it... Hell, I could probably put any one of Julie’s shots online and more people would see it than any one of my docs.”

Again, I looked at him.

“It’s reasons inside reasons,” he said, laughing. “Answers that start up questions. You can’t think simply getting off would keep me flying like this.”

I had to say something about those pictures.

“You know who’d look at half those photos, don’t you? If you put them online. Guys who’d want to fuck you.”

“So?”

“There’s a whole subculture out there.”

“You think I don’t know?”

“And you’re interested?”

This wasn’t news I was interested in hearing.

“If you’re asking if I’m straight, Dad. Yeah. I’m as straight as probably any guy can be. If that’s got you worried...”

“No...”

“Though that would be pretty funny...”

“I wasn’t even thinking...”

“And if you’re asking if I’ve ever had sex with another guy...”

“I wasn’t... And wouldn’t...”

“But you want to know?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of my business.”

“But see that’s why a naked guy is so interesting. A naked guy in a cage. Because it’s nobody’s business. And that’s why people want to know.”

Something suddenly hit me, and I slowly looked around the pool house, very carefully. Scoot realized what I was doing because he laughed.

“No, Dad, there aren’t any cameras. This isn’t one of my projects. And to tell you the truth, I’m sorry it isn’t – I know it would sell. But I thought of it too late. I’d have to go back to the beginning. It would have to start from there – from the moment Julie and I were drunk in the pool and started joking about the cage. You’d need the whole spontaneity to take people along, and I didn’t want to fake that. Besides, it would mean getting out of the cage and going back to my apartment for my equipment.”

“I’m sure Julie has cameras.”

“She can get them, yeah. But the other thing is, I’m not a porn star. I don’t get off on camera, and I don’t get off for other people. I told you, I haven’t had sex for a month.” He suddenly grinned, amending that. “Well, except for once... which was an accident.”

I laughed. “I don’t want to know.”

“There are lots of things you don’t want to know, aren’t there? Though you said you had all these questions.”

I just grinned at Scoot. Then I laughed again.

“Okay, you’re fine,” I admitted. “You’re having fun, and I’m a big joke, and I understand all that. Well, I understand some of it. But I do have one question. One serious one. What in hell am I gonna tell your mother?”

We both laughed at that, and when we almost finished, we laughed some more. Finally, Scoot said, “Tell her the truth. I swear it won’t hurt. And for god’s sake, don’t make something up. Not like that crap Julie used to get you here today. I warned her you’d never believe it.”

“Well, I did. I probably would have done anything to find you.”

That almost embarrassed him. Then he smiled.

“Just tell Mom what I’m doing, and that I’m gonna be here for a while. And while you’re at it...” He grinned as widely as he ever had. “Tell her I’ve never had sex with another guy. That way my conservative, cocksucking father can relax, too.”

I stared at him for a moment, then said. “I’ve got to find a john. All that iced tea from lunch just caught up with me.”

He laughed again. “It’s in the house.”

Copyright 2006 Richard Eisbrouch; All Rights Reserved
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Scoot in a cage in Julie's pool house was not something I ever considered. Too bad Scoot is straight… ;-)

 

Now that the mystery is sort of solved, how soon will Don stay in LA? Will he catch his flight home? And how will Sharon and Amy react?

 

And I'm still looking at the 'clock' although now I'm wondering what's left to reveal? Is this like the director (I forget his name) who tricks you into thinking you're seeing the end of the movie only to pull a surprise twist that keeps the movie going? (Usually more than once.) Aargh!

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On 10/12/2016 05:25 PM, droughtquake said:

Scoot in a cage in Julie's pool house was not something I ever considered. Too bad Scoot is straight… ;-)

 

Now that the mystery is sort of solved, how soon will Don stay in LA? Will he catch his flight home? And how will Sharon and Amy react?

 

And I'm still looking at the 'clock' although now I'm wondering what's left to reveal? Is this like the director (I forget his name) who tricks you into thinking you're seeing the end of the movie only to pull a surprise twist that keeps the movie going? (Usually more than once.) Aargh!

There's definitely more. And no tricks.

 

Also, someone just picked up a copy of the book on Amazon. Be aware: That's a slightly different version. I hadn't expected that, but I've been revising as we go along. This version is extremely similar but definitely better. I'll replace the earlier version when we finish.

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On 10/12/2016 04:43 PM, Geemeedee said:

...

Does that mean you've given up? This is the chapter where that happens, but it's also the image that started the book. I once threw "The Story of O" across the room, when I'd finally had enough of its treatment of women. But it's harder to do that when you're not reading a paperback.

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Actually for me the story has just turned stupid. I can't think of a greater insult to the feelings of Scoot's mother and sister. Even an idiot who wanted to embark down the road you say Scoot decided to take "on a bet" could have said up front to close family "I've decided to check into a Tibetan monastery for a month so don't expect to hear from me until then". To do otherwise puts forward an extremely insensitive and me, me, me personality. Please don't think an author response is required. I have "unfollowed" the story and will not read any further. Within GA there is a whole world of good stories to take up. But keep writing. For everyone who doesn't particularly have empathy with your point of view I'm sure there are others who do.

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On 10/13/2016 01:19 PM, rockycs said:

Actually for me the story has just turned stupid. I can't think of a greater insult to the feelings of Scoot's mother and sister. Even an idiot who wanted to embark down the road you say Scoot decided to take "on a bet" could have said up front to close family "I've decided to check into a Tibetan monastery for a month so don't expect to hear from me until then". To do otherwise puts forward an extremely insensitive and me, me, me personality. Please don't think an author response is required. I have "unfollowed" the story and will not read any further. Within GA there is a whole world of good stories to take up. But keep writing. For everyone who doesn't particularly have empathy with your point of view I'm sure there are others who do.

Thanks. As I've mentioned below, you're not alone. That's the chapter that loses readers. The thing about the book goes back to the title: people aren't reading the book they think they are. Like Sharon, they've been looking in the wrong direction. It's not about Scoot, it's not a traditional mystery, and it's certainly not a murder mystery. It's always been about Don. He's been center all the time. And the reason the book doesn't end with this chapter is there are things he still hasn't figured out.

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On 10/12/2016 06:44 PM, tepei said:

Lol. Certainly wasn't expecting that at all. Well done sir.

Thanks. That's reassuring on this book. The next one I'm posting's a much simpler romance. But this one still has 6 chapters to go.

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As mentioned above, and as I knew as I was writing the book, "This is the throw the book across the room chapter."  Or as one of my friends said, "Where it all drops off into metaphor."  Except she's a straight woman, and the rest of the book may not seem metaphor if you're a gay man.

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Whatever I was expecting to have happened to Scoot it certainly wasn't that!

Still a great story! Can't believe it's taken me so long to actually get around to finish reading it.

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