Jerry
By:
Will B
(© 2009 by the author)
Ably Assisted by Ed
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
consent. Comments are appreciated at...
The last thing Jerry saw was his love walking toward the girl, but on the third ring, there was an…. EXPLOSION.
Then NOTHING.
BLACKNESS.
NOTHING.
“Trace, where are you?”
NOTHINGNESS.
“Trace, I can’t see you.”
DARKNESS.
“Trace! Answer me. Please. Trace.”
BLACKNESS. NOTHINGNESSS, QUIET
Chapter 3
“Trace! Answer me. Please trace!”
SWIRLING MISTS, AND THEN A LIGHT FAR AWAY.
“Trace. I can’t see you.”
“I think he’s coming around, Doctor.”
“Trace, where are you, Trace!”
“Give him a mild sedative, Nurse. I think he will wake up naturally then.”
“Where is he? Where’s Jerry. I want to see him, now.”
“All right, Sergeant Mackenzie. You can sit by his bed, but talk quietly to him. That might be the best thing for him—and be careful> His skin is still a little tender.”
“All right, Doctor. I’ll be good. I’ll just be quiet and sit here and hold his hand, and talk to him….Uh, I think you can leave us alone.”
After giving Jerry the mild sedative, the doctor and the nurse left Trace alone with Jerry.
“I’m here, Jerry. Can you hear me? I’m okay. How are you doin’?”
* * * * *
“I love you, Jerry, I love you, man!”
“Trace, is that you? I couldn’t see you, and it was so dark and I . . . oh, my God, the explosion! Are you OK?”
“I’m fine, well almost fine!”
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“I had just reached the little girl and picked her up and turned around to put her in a ditch and then the force of the blast knocked me down on my face, and the flames . . . burned off all my clothes, and then they…”
“What, Trace, tell me!”
“They burned all the hair off the back of my legs, off my butt, and off the back half of the head. Don’t laugh when you see it, they tell me it’ll grow back.”
“What!!! Turn around! Let me see!”
Trace was wearing a hospital gown that opened in the back and as he turned over on to his stomach, his butt, ‘so round, so firm, so fully packed,’ was exposed to the air and to Jerry’s wondering eyes.
“Oh! Hah hah. You’re butt is as smooth as a baby’s behind. I wanna run my tongue all over it. Hah! Hah! Haaaaaooooooooooh! Waaahhh! Waahhh! My dear Trace, you could have been killed? Huaaahh. Huaaahhh!”
“Hush, Jerry. Don’t cry. I’m gonna be fine. Don’t cry!”
A few days later both Jerry and Trace had been released from the hospital. Jerry received an order to report to his commanding officer in full dress uniform, no less..
He went to the office and the orderly on duty told him to go right in.
“You wanted to see me, Sir.”
“All right, Taylor, at ease!” said Captain Dorsey. “You and I have been asked to go to Captain Moore’s office in Bravo Company.
‘What the hell is this all about?’ Jerry wondered to himself, but aloud he said, “Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir!”
The two men took a jeep to Bravo Company’s headquarters. They went to Captain Moore’s office and were immediately ushered in. Jerry was surprised to see Trace, also in full dress uniform, there along with Captain Moore and a tall man wearing the white robe, or galabiyah and white headdress, a “ghutra.” with a black cord (or “igal”) that marked him as a person of some importance in the Muslim world.
Captain Moore, spoke first. “Captain Dorsey, I’m glad you’re here and that you’ve brought Sergeant Taylor. This is Sheik Mohammed Farouk.”
The sheik slightly inclined his head to greet the newcomers.
“Sergeant Mackenzie, the little girl you saved is the Sheik’s daughter, the only daughter of Sheik Mohammed. She wandered away from home, and somehow ended up out on the road. You saved her life and the Sheik wishes to show his gratitude.”
“Sir, I really don’t want any…”
“Mackenzie, just listen,” Captain Moore said.
“Sir!” Trace replied.
The Sheik said something in Arabic.
“He says the girl’s ayah or nurse will be severely punished,” Captain Moore interpreted.
“Sir, if I may?” Trace began
“Very well, Mackenzie.”
“Sir, please tell the Sheik that Allah is merciful, and I beg him to spare the ayah any further punishment. In the name of Allah!”
When the Captain translated this, the Sheik looked at Trace, smiled broadly, stood up, and said in perfect English, “I see you are a noble gentleman, Sergeant Mackenzie. I will do as you request, and spare the ayah, but I still want to show my gratitude.” Turning to the Captain, the Sheik said,” Captain Moore, will you tell Sergeant Mackenzie what I have in mind?”
Facing Mackenzie, Moore said, “I know that your tour of duty is almost over and you are anxious to return stateside.”
‘Trace is going to go home, and what does this mean for us?’ Jerry thought to himself.
Moore went on, “The Sheik is placing his private jet at your disposal to fly you wherever you wish to go.”
“Oh, but that’s…that’s…,” Trace began to say, but then he thought to himself, ‘What about Jerry? Maybe I’d better decline the Sheik’s kind offer…’
“There is one other thing, Mackenzie,” Moore said. “The doctors feel it would be best if you had a traveling companion, and knowing that you and Sergeant Taylor are good friends, and since his tour of duty is almost up, Captain Dorsey and I pulled a few strings so that Taylor would be free to return to the States with you, if that is your wish.”
“Sir, I don’t know what to …., Oh, Sheik, thank you. Thank you.”
The Sheik advanced upon Trace and opening his arms, drew him into a ceremonial embrace. “You saved my daughter’s life. Nothing I can do for you will ever be enough, my friend.”
Turning to Jerry the Sheik said, “And you, Sergeant Taylor, you will take excellent care of this man.”
“Yes, Sheik,” said Jerry with a broad grin on his face.
The Sheik nodded to the company, and with a swirl of his galabiyah, left the room.
“Well, gentlemen, can you be ready to embark for home in 24 hours?” Captain Dorsey asked.
“Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir,” was all Jerry could manage to get out.
* * * * *
At 2:00 p.m., (1400 hours in ‘military time’), Jerry and Trace were standing at the foot of the steps of what had to be one of the biggest private jets they had ever seen. Captains Dorsey and Moore were there to see them off.
Captain Moore thought to himself, ‘I think those two are more than just good friends, but I will not judge them or say anything. Nobody knows that my son who was killed last year in Afghanistan was gay, and he was the best…’
Captain Dorsey also had his own thoughts. ‘I know the Corps doesn’t want fags, but damn it! Those are two fine marines!’
Just as the two men, now in civvies, were about to board the plane, a long black limousine pulled up, and a chauffeur got out and held the door while Sheik Mohammed Farouk exited the car.
Walking over to Trace and Jerry he bowed and smiled at the two. “I have \something for both of you,” he said.
From a pocket in his robe he drew two boxes covered in black velvet. He handed one to Trace and one to Jerry. “Perhaps you will honor me by accepting these tokens...”
Trace opened his box and saw a gold American eagle, wings outstretched, attached to a chain. “Your Excellency, I thank you. I shall wear this with gratitude, remembering you and your kindness.”
Jerry opened his box and saw a similar neck ornament. “Thank you very much, Your Excellency.”
Both Jerry and Trace placed the palms of their hands together and bowed.
Sheik Mohammed nodded back, and then he straightened up. He gave a signal to his chauffeur, who blew a whistle. Five tall handsome Arabs came down the steps and bowed to the Sheik and stood at attention.
“My friends,” the Sheik said to Jerry and Trace, “I would like to introduce the crew of the plane. This my son Abdul, who is the pilot.” Abdul bowed.
“And this is my son Akbah, who is the assistant pilot.” Akbah also bowed.
“My son Ezek is the Steward of your flight. He will attend to your every wish.” Ezek also bowed.
“This is my son, Aaroon. He is he cook and will prepare your meals. The plane is well stocked with all kinds of delicacies, so you will not go hungry.” Aaroon also bowed.
“And finally, this is my youngest son Ishmael. He is the technology expert and will assist you should you wish to send telephone calls or e-mails to anyone.” Ishmael bowed, straightened up, and winked at Jerry and Trace.
“Finally,” said the Sheik, “I understand that you two have a fondness for the city of Cairo. The plane will land there in about two hours, and you will have five hours to visit any part of the city or visit any hotel you may wish.” The Sheik smiled and winked at Trace and Jerry.
And so it was that Trace and Jerry said their goodbyes to their two Captains, and the Sheik, and climbed aboard the jet.
Once aboard Ezek showed them the appointments. There was a passenger area that would seat four. The dining area had a beautiful oak table with four elegantly upholstered chairs. After Jerry and Trace had admired the equipment in the kitchen and the toilet and shower area Ezek led them to one last door,
In that room was a large imperial size (not king size) bed. “Sirs, there is a similar bedroom down the corridor...”
“Uhhh…., I think I had better bunk in with Trace. He told me he is still subject to nightmares….”
“Of course, gentlemen. I understand perfectly,” said Ezek, and he bowed himself out of the room and shut the door. Trace and Jerry fell into each other’s arms and began to kiss each other—tenderly at first, then passionately, and finally, wildly.
Clothes flew into the air. Lips parted to receive marauding tongues. Lips and teeth titillated nipples, and hands roamed and stroked, and caressed, protuberances, appendages, and hills and clefts.
Trace pulled Jerry down onto the bed, and ministered to Jerry’s organ of pleasure while Jerry returned the favor, saluting Trace’s flag staff. Lips kissed, tongues licked, mouths enveloped.
Trace and Jerry each tried to postpone ‘their moments of truth,’ but finally, passionately, explosively, each savored the sweet syrup of his lover’s distilling.
At last, exhausted, sated, fulfilled, and filled, the two men fell asleep in each other’s arms. They slept so peacefully they didn’t realize the plane had taken off, and they didn’t hear anything until a discreet knock on the door awoke them and a voice, “Gentlemen, we will be landing in Cairo in 15 minutes.”
To be continued...
Historical Footnote: Farouk I was King of Egypt from 1936 until his abdication in 1952. He once said “Soon there will only be five kings in the world—the four in this deck of cards and the King of England.”
I am indebted to tickiestories’ unofficial ‘ambassador’ from Egypt and points east for his technical assistance. His ‘most excellent Excellency’ tells me that King Farouk’s portrait can still be found on paper money and coins in distressed usage.
Posted: 06/19/09