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    CLJobe
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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. 

Matt and Donnie - 4. Chapter 4

I woke to Dave shaking me. "Wake up, lovebirds, we have to leave. Your mom is making breakfast, and I was told to get you two out of bed."

"Lovebirds, where did that come from." Then I looked at Donnie; he couldn't have been any closer unless he was in my skin. "He had a nightmare."

"Yea, seeing you naked probably was enough to give him a nightmare."

I jumped out of bed, waking Donnie, as I chased Dave from my room. I started the shower, drained the weasel, and started taking a quick shower, only to be joined by Donnie. A kiss ew, "Let's brush before we do any more of that."

Dressed, we headed downstairs for breakfast when we heard Dave telling Mom and Dad that we slept naked and were closer than two peas in a pod. I took Donnie's hand, "Bigmouth Dave already has told my mom and dad what he found this morning. So I'm not going to hide it."

"I see a change."

"Yes, it's your fault."

"How is it my fault?"

'You told me I look at Donnie like you look at Mom. I know you love each other like crazy, so I figured maybe you were right. Last night as far as I'm concerned, you were right. Meet your new son-in-law." Then I began to laugh at the expression on Dad's face.

"Aren't you a little young to get married?"

"Nope, we are two guys, no chance of getting pregnant and no chance of drifting. I bet when you first started to date Mom, you were thinking about marriage. We can't get married as it isn't recognized, but we can in our heads and hearts. So, son-in-law."

Dad looked at Mom; they exchanged looks as they have in the past, "Ok, son-in-law, eggs, and bacon for breakfast. Coffee or tea?"

The smile on Donnie's face was so bright it was hard to look at him. The next words from his mouth cause hysteria, "Thanks, Mom, coffee, please."

I broke out in a loud laugh, followed by Dad; Dave just looked at us as if we were crazy. I reached over and punched him on his arm. That brought him back to earth; Mom set a plate in front of us. Dad said goodbye with a smile as he rubbed my head. He did the same to Donnie, which surprised him. Dave just sat there, wagging his head back and forth while starring at his plate.

"Dave, eat up; we're almost done. Mom, will you drive us over to the Turners?"

I took my empty plate and Donnie's to the sink to rinse and then placed them in the dishwasher. I went to get Dave's, and when I reached for it, he swatted my hand away. "Pack the car, and I'll meet you at the car."

By the time we had packed the trunk of the car, Donnie and I sat in the back seat, Dave jumped in the front with Mom. When we reached the Turners, Mom spoke to Mrs. Turner while we searched for Mr. Turner. We found him behind the chicken roost with several cement bags and an old wheelbarrow. "Good morning Mr. Turner, could you use the hands of three young boys?"

"You mean young men, don't you. Yes, I could use some help. Once this cement is mixed, I want to cement those posts in the ground."

"Mr. Turner, we'll help you. Do you have any tar paper?"

"Why do you need tar paper?"

"Wrapping the posts with tar paper will preserve the wood, and you won't have to replace the posts. We'll put a little cement in the hole, wrap the posts and then set them in the hole, and then backfill with cement. Those posts will last till the sun drops."

"Smart lad, I think I have some old roofing paper."

I showed Dave and Matt what I had in mind; they agreed it was better than just sticking the poles in the ground and pouring cement around them. "How do you know about this?"

"Living in farm country, I saw this done. When I asked why that was what they told me. I watched them do it."

"Donnie, you are an amazing encyclopedia of living in farm country."

He grabbed me in a neck choke and kissed the top of my head. I saw Mr. Turner looking and then a crafty smile.

"How are we going to do this and keep the chickens in place? I don't feel like a chicken round-up today."

"That's easy; one of us will hold the fence away from the post keeping the fence in position to prevent the chickens from fleeing. We'll put the post in the ground, pour the cement and then prop the post upright till the cement hardens."

"What'll we use to prop the posts, so they don't fall over?"

"See the trees over there, we need to cut some forked limbs; then we can prop up the posts with them. It shouldn't take too long for the cement to harden enough to hold the pole."

Dave went to get the ax from the car and headed to the trees. We could hear his chopping; I took that opportunity to sneak a kiss from Donnie. Just as we broke apart, I heard, "Hey, I didn't expect you guys to be here."

It was Brian and Sammy, "We came to help Mr. Turner cement in his posts."

"Where's Dave? We called his home, and his mother said he was with you at Mr. Turners."

"He is, listen."

"Is that him chopping wood?"

"Yes, he's making post holders to hold the posts while the cement hardens."

"I'll go help him."

"Sammy, we can start as soon as you see Brain coming back with a post holder. Or you can hold the post till the cement dries."

He was ready to give us the finger when he saw Mr. Turner approach with the wheelbarrow of cement. "Hello, do I know you?"

"Mr. Turner, this is Sammy; he's a friend of ours."

"What is Dave doing chopping trees? We have enough posts."

"He's getting post holders."

"Post holders?"

"Yes, once we cement in the post, we want it to stay upright till the cement hardens enough to hold the post."

"That's clever. Have you figured out how to put the posts in without letting the chickens running wild?"

"Yes, as we work on the hole and post, one of us will hold the wire. No chickens will escape unless they able to fly over our heads."

"Clever, this I got to see."

"Get ready. Here comes Brian with a few post holders."

"I'll hold the wire first, and then we can take turns. Donnie, since you have seen this done, do the first post, and we can learn from that."

Donnie detached the wire, handling it to me. I took several steps back while they removed the post. He showed Sammy how to wrap the post, took the shovel, cleaned out the hole, and added some cement. Placed the post in the hole, Sammy held it steady while Donnie filled the hole with cement. Then he took the post holder from Brian and propped up the pole. When he was done, I moved the wire back to the post and tacked it in place.

Mr. Turner watched the whole operation. He had a smile on his face as he shook his head,

"I could never have done this alone; I'm glad you boys stopped by."

Donnie just smiled and winked at me. Brian went and got more post holders, and we repeated the procedure. Soon we were half-finished, and not a chicken escaped. Mrs. Turner called us to lunch; we decided that we would eat outside since we were dirty and stunk. Sammy and Brian decide they had enough post holders, so they were ready to pitch in after lunch. I smiled as I heard Mr. Turner tell his wife what and how we fixed the posts. He was a nice man, and I'm sure he appreciates our help, at least the lunch we ate showed how Mrs. Turner appreciated our help.

At about 4 o'clock we were finished. Donnie went and checked the first post, he said it was solid, but we told Mr. Turner to leave the post holders till the next day. That would give the posts a good day to set.

I called Mom, and she came to pick us up; she had five towels and five pairs of swim trunks. I was confused till Mr. Turner led us to a pond over the hill on his property. I never knew that pond was there. Dave was the first to shed his clothes and jumped in. Brian yelled, "You forgot your trunks."

"We're all guys, so who needs trunks."

I whispered to Donnie, "eye candy."

He started to laugh; everyone looked at him as we shed our clothes and jumped in. The water was cold from the rain, which I didn't mind as it kept the old woodpecker sleeping. We horsed around, getting most of the sweat off and some dirt. I heard a car horn, "Guys, I think they want us back."

We got out, dried off, put our swimming trunks on, wrapped our dirty clothes in our towels, and headed back to the car.

"Matt, you can't ride in your wet trunks?"

"They aren't wet."

"If they aren't wet, what did you use when you went swimming in the pond?"

I gave Mom a look, and then Mrs. Turner whispered in her ear. Her face turned red, "Get in the car."

Donnie, Dave, and I picked up our tools, put them in the trunk, and then got in the car. Sammy had his motorcycle, so we took his and Brian's towels and clothes home with us.

"You're a smart farm boy Donnie. I think you made a friend in Mr. Turner. He was surprised at how we did the poles."

"Now we should look at his chicken roost. He needs to have a better chicken roost than he has. Maybe we could work this weekend and help him build something better. A roof is fine, but sides would help."

"That's a great idea; maybe we can get another piece of Mrs. Turner's pie."

Mom didn't say a word, but I knew she was proud of her boys, and that's what we became, all five of us. From that day on, we all hung together and usually ended up at my place watching movies or playing games. I'm sure they knew Donnie and I were together, but it didn't seem to bother them.

Copyright © 2020 CLJobe; 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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