Chapter 8

I went into my room and undressed. I knew I wasn't going to get much sleep with the problem that was facing me; I tried to will it away, but the more I tried, the harder it seemed to get.

I was tired, and JC was just across the hall. I was imagining us together; then an eerie feeling came over me, like something or someone was watching me. I got out of bed, put on my robe, then stumbled around the house, looking for a flashlight and not wanting to wake JC by turning on the lights. That was useless because his door opened, and there he stood -- in his jockeys. As JC turned on the lights, my God, he looked like James, reincarnated.

"What's wrong, Uncle Charlie?" he asked.

I found myself staring at him, devouring him with my eyes. I said, "I have this eerie, strange feeling that someone, or something, is watching us."

JC looked concerned. "Uncle Charlie, do you have a spare robe? I can help you look."

"Yes,” I replied, “There’s one hanging on the back of my bedroom door."

I continued my hunt for a flashlight. Eventually I found one that worked, but the feeling had not gone away. There wasn’t anything or anyone in the house, other than JC and me. He came out of my bedroom wearing the robe. I liked the view better, before.

We both went outside and looked around. I had never felt like this before. I was nervous and quite uneasy, but I felt safer with JC at my side. We walked around the house; the moon was full, and so bright that we could see very well, even without the flashlight. There was nothing there, but that strange feeling was still with me. I said, "Can you feel it, JC? There's something, I can’t put my finger on it, but there's something here."

"Sorry, uncle, I don't seem to feel anything but the crisp night air," JC answered with a puzzled look.

I looked to the south, and there was Casper Mountain in the moonlight, with a wisp of a cloud hanging over her. There must have been a billion stars out, and the sky was crystal clear. I told JC, "You see that wisp of a cloud up there over the mountain?"

JC replied, still puzzled, "Yes," as if wondering why I was pointing that out to him.

Noticing JC’s puzzlement, Charles said, "Well, that’s where your Uncle James' ashes are. That’s where he wanted to be." My eyes were leaking. Lonely tears dripped down my cheeks.

JC saw them and said, "Charlie, do you really still miss him that much?" I could tell he wanted to know; he couldn’t miss the tears in my eyes; he just knew I did, but still he wanted to hear me say it. Maybe then, he would know if he had a chance or not.

I answered him, saying, "I’m just a sentimental old fart, who’s getting older by the day, and, yes, I miss him so very much. Our lives together were cut 'way too short, 'way too soon. There were so many, many things we wanted to share together, but fate and a drunken driver tore us apart."

JC thought, ‘I need to ask this question. I’m scared of the answer, but I still need to know.’ He asked, “Charlie, have you ever tried to find someone else to share your life? It’s been more than thirty years now. I can see that you miss him; I miss him, too, but life goes on, uncle."

I looked at JC and said, "Yes, I miss him very much, and, yes, I've noticed a few men over the years who've sparked my eye, but it’s like, I don’t know, it’s like I'm comparing them to some mystical being."

He was so cute, standing there, I felt he wanted to say more, but I knew that I was holding back.

"Uncle Charlie, you know who it is, don't you? That mystical being is Uncle James. I can see it, and I'm sure all your dear friends can see it, too," JC said with a warm loving voice.

I smiled and said, "I know; believe me, I know. I've tried to push him out of my mind when I'm with someone else. It’s like … like I need his approval … or something." Then the wind picked up, blowing ever so softly, and I could almost hear it say, "It’s all right; it's all right, my love."

I shivered and looked at JC. "Did you hear that?"

Again looking puzzled, he said, "I just heard the wind in the trees. Was there something else?" He thought to himself, ‘I wonder what it was that HE heard?’

Charlie answered, “JC, it was like the wind was talking to me, saying, 'It's all right; it's all right, my love’.” A chill went up my spine.

With a warm loving smile, JC replied, "Uncle Charlie, maybe James is talking to you, telling you to be free, and wanting you to find someone. You know he wouldn't want you to be alone forever, now, would he?"

I just stood there looking at the mountain. "I guess he wouldn't, but it's so hard to forget him. Now look, JC, the cloud above her is gone, and the strange feeling I had is gone as well. I guess it's just a crazy old man's dream again."

With a stern voice, JC said, "Don’t say that, Uncle Charlie; please don't say that; you’re not a crazy old man; you're a good looking elderly gentleman. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart." He continued to smile warmly at me.

"Thank you, JC," I smiled back at him.

"I meant that; please remember that," JC said with love in his heart. I could hear the love in his voice, but I just couldn’t see it yet.

"Well, I think it's time to hit the sack again," I told him as we started back toward the house. "If I remember right, we weren't going to chat tonight, but wait until tomorrow."

JC looked at his watch, and said, "Well, uncle, it’s tomorrow already." Then he chuckled. He was so handsome and, ohhhhh, so cute.

We both went back to our respective rooms, telling each other goodnight for the second time.

JC <><><><>

Back in my room, I removed the robe. I stood in my jockeys, staring in the mirror, again wishing I could be with Uncle Charlie. 'Oh, how I wish I could see him naked. I'm sure, from what I've already seen, he's in excellent shape.' The image of him, in my mind, was erotically stimulating, showing just how much I wanted him. My cock was peeking over the top of my waistband, and I needed relief, so I pulled off my underwear and got into bed, thinking of Charlie. I stroked my cock slowly, and played with, then pinched my nipples, first one, then the other, all the time stroking and playing with my balls, fantasizing that it was Charlie who was stroking me. Feeling my balls filling with the nectar of life, I stroked faster, squeezing my balls gently, tracing them one at a time. Then I put my middle finger into my mouth, got it wet, and sucked on it, imagining that it was Charlie’s cock that I was sucking. Then, with my left hand, using the same finger, I began to insert it into my ass, feeling for my prostate. I found it, and I massaged it ever so tenderly; my eruption was near. My right hand was a blur, bringing me to the point of no return. I could've cared less if Charlie had walked in at that moment; in fact, secretly, I wished he would, yet I knew he wouldn't. I tried so hard to be quiet, but when my eruption spewed forth, and with each surge, I groaned, and with each successive surge, my groans grew louder. I was trying, oh, so hard to be quiet, but I really didn't care. It felt so good; jacking off in the room right across the hall from Charlie, I wished it could've been both of us together. In the after glow of my orgasm, I lay there, thinking, imagining, hoping, praying.

I was trying to figure a way to approach him. I thought, 'Why am I calling him Uncle Charlie?' Then it dawned on me; 'I call him uncle, but he's not my uncle, not by blood, anyway; no, he's not Uncle Charlie. I'm the one who gave him that name; could that be it? He's gay -- I know that -- but why hasn't he come-on to me?' Again, a light flashed in my mind. 'Does he even know that I'm Gay? I love older men. He's not too old for me. Oh, God, that's it! Of course, that's it! He respects me, and thinks he's too old for me. Well … I'm a good looking guy, or so I‘ve been told, and he's not my uncle; not a blood relative, and NOT too old. Then what is it? He still loves Uncle James, or something seems to have a hold on him.' I was so tired, that everything I had been thinking was a blur, and my mind was fuzzy, so I cleaned up my mess rolled over and went back to sleep … and dreamed.

Charles <><><><>

Leaving JC at the door, I went into my room and just dropped the robe on the floor. Then I crawled into bed. I thought back to the hallway, and the near naked JC, and how fucking gorgeous he was. This daydream was not going to keep me awake; I was so damn tired, and really wanted to sleep. I still remembered the wisp of a cloud over Casper Mountain, and what I heard. 'Yes, I heard it, even if JC didn't,' I thought. 'My feelings for JC are growing stronger, but I'm still too old for him, even if we both wanted it. My God, by the time he's fifty, I'll be eighty-five … or gone! That’s just not fair to him. Charlie … put those thoughts out of your mind, and come back down to earth,' I scolded myself.

Then I thought I heard someone groaning across the hall. I wondered if JC was still awake. I almost got up and went over to see, but I thought again of what could never be.

I just snuggled up with my pillow, and went to sleep.

I woke up smelling fresh coffee, so I got out of bed, picked up the robe and put it on. I went into the hall, and noticed JC's door was open. I looked in and saw that his bed was made. I wondered where he was, so I headed into the kitchen, where I found Clyde. "Good morning, Clyde; have you seen JC?"

"Good morning, Charles; yes, he's outside, somewhere. I told him that as soon as I had breakfast ready, I'd let him know," Clyde said with a grin.

"I must have been tired, sleeping so late, or I'm getting old." I smiled at Clyde.

"You’re not old Charles, just matured like a fine wine" Clyde said with a chuckle.

"If you see JC before I get back, let him know I'll be out as soon as I get a shower." I turned and headed back to the bathroom, to take care of other necessities as well. I dressed, then returned to the kitchen. Clyde was still working on breakfast, but still, there was no sign of JC. I told Clyde, "I'm going outside; when breakfast is ready, just give a yell; OK?"

"Ok, will do, Charlie," he said as I headed outside.

As I opened the door to exit the house, I saw the gorgeous boy. He was on the patio, sitting in one of the patio chairs, looking up at the mountains. I don't think he even noticed me; as I approached him, I said, "Good morning, young man; did you get a good night's rest?"

Somewhat startled, JC turned, looked up at me, smiled broadly, and said, "Yes! I sure did, and how was yours, Charlie?" He thought; ‘I’m stopping the uncle bit, I need to start treating him as someone whom I want to love me; for God’s sake, I think, I’m falling in love. Now I have to show him how much I care for him.’ He still feared that I would reject him, for some confounded reason!

"I had a great sleep, after we got through that episode last night. I heard some groaning from your room. Was everything ok in there?" I answered him with a warm friendly sort of smile.

JC thought, ‘Oh shit, he heard me.’ Then he blushed a bit, and said, "Oh, yes, everything was just fine, Charlie. I must have been talking in my sleep." He was still thinking to himself, ‘Have to be more careful doing that in there.’

I changed the subject by asking, "JC, how much of this place do you remember? I know you left when you were just a little guy." I wanted to find out what happened in his life.

"Well, Charlie, I don't remember anything about Casper other than knowing my grandparents lived here. I only got to come back here when I was maybe, two or three, to see grandma and grandpa. I wished many times that the folks would bring me back, but their lives were their lives and I was just there." JC responded, he didn’t want to talk about his past, because it hurt to think about it.

"So where did you live after you left Casper?" I asked him, as I thought, ‘He still seems upset with his folks.’

"We moved to Jacksonville, Florida. I grew up there. I spent my entire childhood hanging around the beach, with my friends. I turned into a typical beach bum, and did a lot of surfing as I got older," JC answered, realizing that he needed to tell me everything. He didn't want any secrets to keep us apart.

I still dug deeper by saying, "Sounds like you had a wonderful childhood; how did you do in school?" 'This is great -- JC's opening up to me . . . Now I'll find out what happened with his mom and dad.'

Just then, Clyde came out, ringing the dinner bell. Really, it was a triangle-shaped piece of steel rod, with a short steel rod you banged around inside the triangle, making a horrible sound.

JC and I got up and headed for the dining room. There, we found a delightful breakfast waiting -- a breakfast of wonderful looking western omelets, with hot sauce and sour cream, condiments, buttered toast and jelly, and of course, fresh hot coffee.

Clyde said, "Enjoy! I have to run out for a bit Charlie, to get some things for dinner; Ellen will be here in a few minutes, so she'll clean up the mess. Is there anything special you guys would like for dinner?"

"Not really," I grinned at him. "I'm happy with anything you prepare; it’s always like a surprise party, and I'm happy with your fixing's."

I said, “JC, Ellen is the housekeeper, and she comes in every day for a few hours, or until she is finished. She's only been with us since Nancy left us. Her health got to a point where she just couldn't handle it anymore. I sure miss that dear old gal, though."

The food was so good that we just sat there eating until I heard a car pull up outside. I knew it was Carl, coming to pick us up for our shopping trip. I said, "JC, our wheels have arrived. You ready to go on a shopping spree?” I looked at him with an evil grin.

"I only need a few things, Charlie; Kmart or Wal-Mart will be fine. I don't need anything fancy." JC stated; he figured that all he'd need was a couple of shirts and maybe a couple of pairs of jeans.

"Oh, no you don't! Your Uncle Charlie is going to spoil you today!" I knew I wanted to take him to Demarkus', a great shop for all kinds of clothing.

"Really, Charlie, you don't need to do that; I don't need much," JC said, then thought to himself, ‘He really doesn't have to do that. I have money.’

"Nonsense; it's my treat. This old man has more money than . . . well … you get the picture. So get your ass in gear and let’s move." I gave him a stern stare.

"Ok, if you must; I won't argue with you; let’s go." JC smiled back.

We headed outside and got into the car. Carl drove us into town and to Demarkus'. As we entered the store, I asked for Bill, the store manager, and he was immediately summoned. When he arrived, I told him, "This young man is my nephew and whatever he wants, I don't care what it costs, you get it for him, and put it on my tab."

Bill replied, "Yes, Mr. Lambert; anything he wants, he'll get; you can bet on that." I smiled at him, AND at my gorgeous young man.

"Thank you, Bill. My nephew's name is JC.” I grinned at JC, “JC, this is my friend, Bill. He'll take good care of you." I looked at Bill and smiled at him with a look of confidence and firmness.

JC said, “Well, all I need is a couple pair of jeans, and a few shirts."

Bill asked, "What style you looking for, casual, western, or formal? And in what sizes do you need them?"

JC thought for a few seconds, and told him, "I think, since I'm here in Casper, Western or Casual; and my sizes are: Shirts XL, my trousers are waist 34" and length 34"; I think that’s about right; I'll try them on anyway.”

As an excuse to talk to him without JC overhearing, I asked Bill to step into the office to check my bill. He looked at me funny, for a second, and then I could see the proverbial 'light bulb' come on, over his head, as he realized that I wanted to talk to him in private.

"We'll just be in the office over there …" he pointed to the opposite wall, "…so, JC, if you need any help, just let me know." We left JC, looking at some shirts, and we headed for the office. Once in the office, I told him, "Get something to write on, 'cause I'm gonna be giving you one heck of an order. I want the best quality merchandise you have, in everything JC picks out. Then multiply that by four; add to the order, twelve pair of Jockey shorts, twelve tee shirts, and twelve pairs of socks; also, two or three suits, you choose them, but make them Western, and add a couple of nice sports jackets. Oh, yes, and don't forget the shoes. Make sure they’re comfortable, and add in a good pair of cowboy boots. Oh, yeah, and put in a nice western hat. Don't let him in on much, as it's a surprise. Just make sure you have them correctly sized; then deliver everything that you can, today! If anything needs alterations, have that done and deliver them tomorrow. Ya got all that, Bill?" I chuckled.

"Yes, Mr. Lambert; now let me go over this order again with you," he repeated the order back to me. And all was correct.

Bill went back out into the store, and I just walked around, checking for some things for myself, until JC was finished. Before I left, I talked to Bill again. I told him to add whatever accessories, like belts, neckties, bolo ties, etc. that he thought might be needed, and again, I made sure he knew to have as much of that order at the ranch today as possible.

As we came out of the store, JC said, "That was so nice of you, Charlie; but you know you didn't have to do that. I have my own money, and I needed some new things, anyway." He was smiling at me, with that cute little smile of his. 'Nobody … nobody at all! … could have such a wonderful, beautiful smile,' I thought to myself. I just wanted to eat him up.

JC thought to himself, ‘Good grief! That cost him a lot; all those brand names are expensive.’

"I know you've got your own money, JC, but I wanted to do it. Don't begrudge an old man his fun." I smiled at him broadly.

Then I flipped open my cell phone, and called the ranch. I spoke to Clyde. "What time are you planning to serve dinner? We're gonna stop at the Corral for lunch.” I knew that JC and Carl heard the call, so they both knew we were going out for lunch.

Clyde replied, "That’s up to you, Charles; you name the time, and it'll be on the table."

I looked at JC, asking, "Dinner at eight sound ok with you?"

"Sounds good to me," JC replied.

"Ok, Clyde, we’ll have dinner at eight then." I snapped the cell phone closed.

"Ok, you two, we're going to the Corral for lunch." I was thinking, ‘We need to go up to the top of Casper Mountain so that JC can see Casper from up there.’

When we arrived at the restaurant, we all went inside. I asked the headwaiter for my special table, if it were free.

Randy said, “Of course that table’s free.” He then took us back to a very nice, somewhat quiet spot, towards the rear. We were all seated and then I asked JC, "Would you like to take a ride up Casper Mountain after lunch for a while?" I wanted some time up there to be close to James again, particularly after last night; I was concerned and confused. Had James really talked to me last night?

JC replied, saying, "That sounds nice, Charlie. Sure; why not? Maybe you can show me my grandparents’ old house." He was thinking, ‘Hell, that's why I'm here -- to see the place.’

We all ordered a great lunch and the waitress was very cute. She must have been in her thirties. She lightly flirted with JC; no wonder; after all, he is gorgeous. Both Carl and I just joked with him about that, and he seemed to take it well, but kept saying she had no chance with him.

I said "Why not, JC?" giving him a cute smile.

JC simply said, “She’s just not my type." You could tell he was thinking, ‘I really don’t want to talk about me being gay, at least, not here in this place.’

"Oh, okay, I hit a sore spot, I see," I laughed it off, hoping we didn't upset him.

Carl asked, "How often do you travel with your job?" He was just trying to change the subject, and he, too, was thinking, ‘We may have hit a sore spot.’

JC replied, "We work shifts, and a shift consists of two weeks with about nine one-way flights. We start in any city, and work a series of flights that can take us anywhere in the world, but the last flight of the shift will bring us back into the States. Then it’s up to us to get home ... most of the time, we're in the jump seats of other commercial flights. Once in awhile, we have to purchase a one-way ticket home. That's a real bad trip, and it doesn't happen very often. Then we get approximately two weeks off. But I've been lucky and have had a three-week break a few times. It just depends on the shift schedules. Gees, sorry, didn't mean to give you a travel lesson."

Carl replied, "Nonsense, that's something I didn't know. Did you, Charlie?"

I answered, "No; I had no idea that it was so complicated working as a flight attendant." 'No wonder he's alone,' I thought.

We finished our fantastic lunch, and left a generous tip, telling Randy, "The food was excellent, and so was the service; we'll darken your doors again, some day soon." I love telling them that, it makes them think, ‘What did he really mean?’

JC laughed softly and said, "You’re a pistol, Charlie; that’s just crazy," He thought to himself, ‘God, he has a good sense of humor.’

We all piled into the car and Carl drove off toward the mountain. As we drove, I asked Carl to pull up to James’ folk's old house, so JC could take a look. It wasn't that far up the road until Carl pulled into the drive of a very well kept home.

JC spoke, "Oh, my, I think I remember this place. God, I was only two or three when I was here ... no, it's got to be the photos that I remember. I wish my grandparents were still around. I really never got to visit them much." He was dreaming of what he had missed by not seeing them.

Carl then pulled out of the driveway and headed up Casper Mountain Road. It was only a few miles until we got to the parking area where, many years ago, we held a very private service for James. We scattered his ashes, and I carved his initials, 'JRA', into a young tree, to mark the spot. The last time I was there, the tree was still standing in a small grove of trees about a hundred yards or so from the road. As we approached the parking area, I looked over at JC and said, "If you don't want to come out with me, it's okay; I'll understand." I didn't know if he'd want to or not, and I didn't want to pressure him into doing something that he wasn't comfortable with.

JC said frankly, "No, Charlie; I want to see this place; I want to feel Uncle James' presence as much as you do. I really don't think that's possible, or I should have felt him last night." He was deep in thought, ‘Please, dear God, help me to feel him; I need to ask him something.’

Carl stayed with the car. JC and I walked up the trail to the little grove of trees. There were picnic tables scattered about that weren't there when we scattered James’ ashes, many years ago. I started looking for the tree on which I had carved his initials. Finding it, both JC and I started searching for what I knew had to be there from so long ago. The bark had so over grown the initials, that we could barely see where they once had been. With some imagination, we could see the J. and make out part of the R. and very little of the A.

I was transfixed, staring at them, when JC spoke, "Charlie, I feel him; I really do feel him; I have these chills, like fingers running up and down my spine." JC began to cry, he was thinking, ‘But why? I really never knew him. The only thing I really knew was what Charlie had told me, and last night did he…? Or was he really there with us when... ?’

I looked at JC, tears streaming down his face. That's all it took, and my tears burst; we were two grown men, crying uncontrollably, so I went to him and opened my arms. We embraced, comforted each other and cried onto each other’s shoulders. We just held each other, hugging and squeezing each other for what seemed like hours, but in reality was probably no more than twenty minutes. We were still hugging when JC spoke.

"Charlie, please don't hate me for what I am about to do, please." He thought for a few seconds, ‘I know he'll just walk away, and never look back, but I have to take the chance; it's now or never.’

Before I could ask what the hell he was talking about, he kissed me; kissed me with the most passionate kiss I have had in so many years. God! It was like James standing there kissing me. My heart was racing; before I could gather my wits, his tongue was probing the depths of my mouth, and our tongues twisted together like snakes in a mating dance. We continued with our embrace and dueling tongues, having to pull apart only with the need to breathe. I tried to speak but his lips stopped me again. Another round of kisses and hugs and my knees were giving out; I pulled away and asked, "My God, JC, what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Charlie, but I've fallen in love with you. I didn't plan it, but I HAVE fallen in love with you. If you hate me, I'll leave and never bother you again; but please … don't hate me, Charlie; please don't hate me!" JC had tears in his eyes and a look of pure worry on his face.

To be continued...