Indiana Summer - 1. Crime and Punishment

Disclaimer: This story includes sexual and romantic situations between consenting individuals. Any allusion to illicit or illegal activity, sexual or otherwise, is used only for enhancement of the story line and not promotion thereof. Remember AIDS, HIV and other STDs are a very real threat, please always practice safe sex.

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Indiana Summer01: Crime and Punishment

I can't believe my dad sent me out here just because I broke curfew. Most kids get grounded, but I get sent to some God forsaken town in Indiana for the summer.

My name is David Bailey and up until a few days ago I was a resident of SacramentoCalifornia. I'm currently outside Indianapolis, Indiana; I'll be spending the whole of the summer with a friend of my dads on a farm in some hick-town south of here.

"It won't be that bad. William has a son your age. I'm sure you guys could hang out." My dad had said before I left.

Yeah that is exactly who I want to hangout with all summer, some redneck teenager in overalls who uses words like, "y'all", and, "yuins".

After another hour and a half the bus pulled into the Greyhound station. I stepped off into the humid summer air, already missing the dryer heat of home. I collected my duffel bag and started looking around for who ever was supposed to pick me up, that's when it hit that I didn't know who I was looking for, or what they looked like.

‘Maybe I should have paid more attention to dad when he was talking to me on the way to the station.’ I thought silently.

Just as I started to get a little panicked I heard someone calling my name and I turned around to find one of shabbiest looking guys in the world waving at me from the far side of the terminal.

It's not that he was bad looking; he was my height, around 6’1 with amazing baby blue eyes, and he could have made a killing selling his short hair had it been real gold, which it resembled so closely.
I guess that growing up on a farm; working in the sun day after day had given his skin its beautiful bronze color. He even put my lean swimmers build to shame with all his muscles.
The dust, dirt, and sweat that splashed across his clothes and exposed skin couldn't hide how ripped his was. The sleeves of his shirt strained to contain his thick upper arms and the sweaty shirt clung to his round pecs and what looked to be a perfect six pack.

"Are you David Bailey?" He asked, a little uncertainty clinging to his baritone voice.

"Oh yea that’s me, who are you?" I extended my hand and tried to smile. Dude was HOT.

"William Templeton, but everyone calls me Billy." He said shaking my hand so hard it hurt.

"Sorry about the dust and sweat, I forgot what time I was supposed to be here and didn't have time to change after my chores." He tried to dust off his hands and clothes as he led us to the stations parking lot.

"There's not much room in the cab, so you can toss your bag in the bed." He motioned to the bed of the black Dodge 4x4 we stopped next to.

I stood stunned for a minute or two. I figured he would be driving a pick up, but I had been expecting a beat up old junker but that wasn't the case. The slick black paint and rust free body spoke of near mint condition with only a coating of dried mud on the tires and some dirt splashes along its bottom.

"This yours?" I felt like an idiot immediately afterward, I mean come on.

"It is most of the time, except for the few times my dad has something to haul that he doesn't trust me with.” He said sounding suddenly bitter.

"Cool.” I said as I tossed my bag into the bed and climbed in.

I noticed as he climbed into the drivers’ seat that he had three vertical scars across his left wrist.

"How did you get those scars?" I asked as he started up the truck.

"Cut it on some equipment." He answered stiffly as he fired up the engine.

A thick silence seemed to settle between us as his earlier friendliness faded away. My eyes kept shooting to the radio in hopes he might turn it on, anything to break the drone of the engine.

"My antennae got tore off in a storm a few weeks ago but there are some CDs in the glove-box if you want to listen to them." He said his voice still stiff.

I opened the compartment and pulled out four CDs, three store bought and a home burnt one, Montgomery Gentry's greatest hits, Garth Brooks’ greatest hits, Kenny Chesney's greatest hits, and a Josh Gracin album.

‘All country I never would have guessed.’ I thought to myself.

"Yea I didn't think they would much interest a big city boy like you but its better than listening to each others breathe for another fifty miles." Billy piped up, his voice colored with a thick, albeit fake, southern accent; I guess some of my thoughts must have shown on my face.

I didn't say anything just slipped in the Garth Brooks CD, one of the few country artists I knew of.

As the time wore on and I lost interest in the music and turned my attention back to Billy. From the few furtive glances I was able to get at him I noticed he had several scars on the visible parts of his body. He had one over his right eye that cut down into his eyebrow, one that ran half way down the side of his right forearm, and a vertical scar down his right wrist.

I asked him about them but his only response was that he was accident prone.

I could see how being accident prone could cause the one above his eye and the long one down his forearm but the three on his wrist that I had noticed earlier were straight and clean, which spoke of careful attention, not a slip and fall. In reality it looked like he had tried to slit his wrists.

I had never tried to kill myself; not even when my mom walked out on me and my dad, but I had friends who cut on a regular basis and I knew what deliberate cut scars looked like.

And on top of that I wondered why he had become so distant and short with me. He seemed happy when we first met.

I wondered what I had done to make him mad.

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‘I liked him at first, so why am I acting this way toward him now, all he is doing is asking a few questions.’ I asked myself as we drove home.

‘Because you liked him too much at first, and he is asking questions that will lead to things he can't know.’ Another part of my mind whispered to me.

That was perfectly true too, the second I saw him I was taken in by his looks his short, spiked black hair, the way the sun made the bluish-green of his eyes shine a bit.

My mind started to wander to what he looked like with out his clothes, I caught myself before I started to wonder about his dick and bit down on the inside of my lower lip till I felt a trickle of blood reach my tongue, I swallowed hard and tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

‘YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO THINK LIKE THAT YOU FUCKING IDIOT.’ Yelled the part of my mind that sounded like my dad; the same part of my mind that I always heard when I fucked up or when I started thinking about other guys.

My dad isn't a violent man, but he's strict and stubborn. Things have to be done just how he wants them or he'll make you do it over and over till he's satisfied. He didn't tolerate mistakes and being gay or even thinking about another guy in any sort of sexual way was, in his view, the biggest mistake there was.

‘All I have to do it stay away from him as much as possible and bury my attention in my chores and I'll be OK. The thoughts and feelings will go away; just like before.’ I told myself as I drove through Columbus.

"So where do you live at exactly?" He asked as we drove through town.

"Zenis Township down in Jennings County, have about twenty more miles." I replied. I actually felt a little sorry for him. He had never been on a farm before. I would wager that he hadn't ever left California before now.

I could tell he was uncomfortable and as much as I hated it, I had to make nice with him if only a little bit.

"Being cramped on that bus for three days must have been hell." I tried to take the stiffness out of my voice but wasn’t sure if I succeeded.

"Yea, hot, cramped, food sucked and I need a shower." He replied, he seemed happy that I was talking again.

"Well you can get a shower when we get home, by then dinner will be done and my mom should have the guest room all fixed up for you so you can get a good night's sleep." I had to bite my lip again when I was done speaking so I wouldn’t picture him in the shower.

"That’s good." He said with relief.

"Yea besides, tomorrow you start working." I said taking savage happiness at the quick look of panic over his face.

"Any idea what I will be doing?" He tried to sound cool, unconcerned but there was a bit of nervousness there.

"Not a clue. All I know is your dad told mine that he wanted you to do some honest work." I said quite truthfully. I just hoped that I didn't have to work with him.

The rest of the miles passed pretty quickly or so it seemed. Before I knew it we had drove through Vernon, and out to Muscatatuck and into Zenis.

"Bet this place is hell to get off in the winter.” He said as we turned down the gravel road that led to my house.

"Yea it’s a bitch." I replied truthfully.

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I grabbed my bag out of the back of the truck awestruck by my surroundings.

Billy's house wasn't what I expected; true, it looked like an old farm house, but it looked pristine as if it had been taken off a post card. It was two stories, white paint, and black roof, with green shutters on the windows. Adjacent to the house was a two story barn and stretching for about three or four miles was row after row of small corn plants.

"Yeah take a good look around boy this is where you'll be living and working for the next three months."

I turned and saw Billy's dad watching me from the front porch of the house. It was easy to tell on account of their family resemblance. The set of the jaw and their facial feature all mirrored one another except that Billy's were not as prominent or rough as his dads.

"Mr. Templeton", I held out my hand as we reached the porch, “It’s good to meet you. My dad talks about you all the time." He looked me over, but never made any move to shake my hand.

"Yea, that sounds about like your father. Never did know when to shut up." He said with a very slight hint of a laugh.

I bit back a few sharp words and let my hand fall to my side. If I had to stay here for the summer I didn't want this old dick to be any harder on me than needed.

"Well just don't stand there all night. Bill, take David here up to your room, he'll be staying there for a while. Then show him where the bathroom is so he can shower before dinner. Don't want him stinking up the table." There was a bite of annoyance in his voice.

"Why is he sleeping in my room, I thought the guest room was being cleared out?" Billy said angrily, blush rising over his face.

"Don't raise your voice at me boy," The old man turned a harsh gaze on Billy. The effect it had was staggering; Billy seemed to shrink under his look, "That room is too drafty; I don't need city boy here getting sick. Won't be no use to us and he won't learn the lesson his daddy sent him out here for.”

The old man still had his eyes locked on Billy as he finished, I swear Billy was actually shaking a little.

"Yes sir," Billy look away from his dad and over to me but wouldn’t meet my eyes, "It's this way." He said as he sidled past his dad.

‘Well the old man is an ass hole, Billy can't seem to make up his mind whether he likes me or not. I haven't met his mother yet. But on the bright side I get to room with Billy. Maybe I can scope him out a little bit more.’ I said to myself as we walked into the house and up a staircase.

This might be a decent summer after all.

To be continued……

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I want to thank Rush for her work in editing, without her I would be nowhere. As always, I love to get your thoughts and opinions so feel free to email me at allenarcane88@yahoo.com, drop me a PM, write me a review or visit the discussion forum.