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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.
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.
Broken - 11. Sandman and Viking
There was one good thing about our folks not speaking to each other. Scotty and I were able to pull off many things that had they been comparing notes, we would have never gotten away with. Citizens band radios were something of a fad at the time. We struck upon the idea of asking our folks for a hand-held 40 channel CB radios that Radio Shack had on sale.
That Christmas was difficult. It was the first holiday since we had been separated. Even though we were talking again, his presence was conspicuously absent. The week before Christmas, my Grandmother came down to stay with us during the Holidays. She asked where he was.
Not long after my Grandma's arrival, my brother arrived home from college. I was a big kid, but my brother, Big John was huge! 6' 6 and 250 pounds, he was a champion weight lifter. It's a good thing that he was good-natured because he could have easily squished me flat. He grabbed me and picked me up, tossing me in the air. I fussed about it, but I really thought it was neat. He was the only one big enough that could still do it, and truthfully, I missed it. Upon his arrival we assumed our respective roles: me, the pesky little brother and John being the long-suffering big brother.
It saddened me that Big John was always so far away. For a while, Doug had filled the big brother role very well, but he was gone now and there was a void. I desperately needed someone around that I could talk to and who would look out for me. For a short time, he was here and that was good enough.
My brother and I spent as much time together as we could. We did our Christmas shopping and went to a couple of movies together. I told him that I wished that he would spend the summer with us, but he had to work his co-op job. I understood, but it was a disappointment.
Mississippi is a weird place for weather. Christmas can be anywhere from the twenties to the seventies, and it could change on you faster than you can say bad luck. That Christmas dawned, a sunny and warm 75. It was shorts weather in December, for goodness' sake!
I got a new bike for Christmas. My old one was getting too small. My brother must have helped my folks pick it out because it was actually pretty cool. It was a red BMX style bike with chrome and white stripes.
I got the radio too. My folks favored my having a way to call for help. I was taking a long trail through the woods twice a day. If I wiped out, it was a long way to help.
Christmas day my folks were busy with relatives and my brother was off visiting friends that afternoon. I put the radio in my backpack. I gathered canned cokes and some of Scotty's favorite Christmas cookies that my Mom made. Then I took off for the trails.
I turned the radio on to stand by, set the channel to 37 and made a call. “Sandman, this is Viking, do you copy?” No answer. Oh, well. I took off to see what my new bike could do.
After about twenty minutes on the trails, my radio crackled to life, “Viking, this is Sandman over.”
I stopped and answered, “Sandman this is Viking, I copy, over.”
“Viking, can you meet me at hill 29, over?”
I answered, “That's a roger Sandman. I'll be there in 10.”
“Sandman out.”
I put the radio back on my belt and headed off to our fort.
Scotty came skidding in right behind me, beaming from ear to ear. “What's up Beast? Looks like you did all right. Snazzy looking dirt bike.”
I smiled and said, “Yeah, it appears our plan worked out after all.”
“The radios were a great idea,” Scotty smiled mischievously. “I brought a surprise.”
We hid our bikes and went inside to enjoy each other's company for a while.
We sat down in the floor and I said, “Brought you something, Scotty”.
I pulled out my Mom's chocolate oatmeal, pecan cookies and Scotty's eyes got big as saucers. He said, “Thanks Dude. I've been missing those! I brought us a little something, too.” He pulled out a big fat joint.
I exclaimed, “Wicked! Where did you get it?”
“Brian said to say Merry Christmas. It is supposed to be pretty good.”
“Awe man. We've got to do something for him.”
At that, Scotty looked sad. “Brian is really messed up over losing Doug. He won't even talk to his Dad. He stays out all the time and only goes home late. Jimmy, it's like he's lost, dude.”
I looked Scotty in the eyes and said, “I've been there, and it sucks. Thanks for coming to find me.”
Scotty sighed, “It was as much for me as it was for you. I was pretty lost myself.”
“You ever see Brian at school?”
He nodded and lit the joint. “Yeah.” Cough. “We've got a few classes together. He's catching a lot of shit over Doug from some of the upper classmen.” He handed me the joint.
“Why do they want to fuck with Brian?” I took my hit and passed it.
Scotty replied grimly, “Because they can see that it hurts him.”
“Damn that's cold. You ever feel like people suck?” I asked between puffs.
Scotty replied with a bitter edge in his voice, “Persons are cool. But yeah, in general, people suck. They are mean, petty, cruel and delight in the pain of others.”
It hurt me to hear him say that. There had to be a lot more going on than what he was telling me. “Scotty, are you turning into a philosopher on me?”
“Must be the weed.” How dare such dark thoughts intrude on such a good buzz?
It wasn't too long before we were both pretty lit and laughing. The munchies set in, and we tore into the Christmas cookies.
We ended up in a good-natured tussle on the floor. I always let Scotty win those wrestling matches, and he loved me for it. After giving him a run for his money, I “tuckered out” and rolled over on my back. He moved to pin me with his knees on my shoulders. With his hands held high in triumph, he bowed and hooted to a non-existent audience.
I asked meekly, “Am I invited to the victory party?”
He had an impish look in his eye and grinned slyly. “Yes. I'm having a victory dinner, and you are the main course.”
He passionately kissed me on the lips, face and neck. While shifting to straddle me, he pulled my shirt up, and I cooperated as he took it off. He then moved down, kissing and licking my chest. I was getting so hot I couldn't stand it. The shorts that I had on were straining to their limit.
I murmured, “Oh crap, Scotty, who taught you that?”
Between kisses, he said, “I've got a great imagination.”
He continued to go south, kissing and licking my chest and stomach all the way down to the line of my shorts. His long hair tickling and tingling against my chest and stomach all the way. When he began to kiss and caress the straining crotch of my shorts, I thought I was going to go crazy. The feeling of his warm breath on me was way more intoxicating than the weed.
I pulled him into the 69 position and did the same for him. At that moment, I didn't care what anyone else thought. Nothing else mattered. Our universe had collapsed into a singularity of passion. When I didn't think it could get any better, Scotty said, “Merry Christmas, Jimmy. I love you.” He then opened my shorts and went down on me, and I eagerly followed suit.
It was spectacular. Communications on a level that only lovers could possibly understand. No words, only feelings like lightning, alive with passion and warmth. My pleasure was his pleasure and his pleasure was mine - building together like an avalanche, gaining strength and momentum from the sum of its parts. Abstract feelings made concrete in a blaze of shared energy, too quickly the moment passed, but forever sealing the love that we shared.
I lay there on my back panting with Scotty laying face down with his head on my shoulder. I gently stroked his hair in quiet wonder at what we had just shared.
What could I say? What words were there to describe how I felt? I love you sounds trite somehow.
Scotty propped himself up on his elbows and looked in my eyes like he was searching for something. Instantly, he found my smile. He asked quietly, “What are you thinking, Jimmy? Did I go too far?”
I reached out and gently caressed his face. “No. You didn't take me too far, or anywhere I hadn't wanted to go for a long time now. I was thinking that you are everything to me and how afraid I am of losing you again. I couldn't take it. It would break me.”
Scotty got a serious look on his face and whispered, “Neither could I. We've got to be careful. We're not in control and a lot can go wrong.”
I said gently, “I could take a lot of going wrong, just as long as you are with me. Scotty, you make me strong. You make me feel invincible. When we're together, I'm not afraid or empty. I feel like I could do anything.”
Scotty looked at me and said, “A long time ago, you told me that you would never leave me. Even when things were at their worst this past summer, I always believed that. I love you so much it hurts, Jimmy, and I always will.”
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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.
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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