Companions All by Will B

Cousins All
by: Will B
(© 2007 by the Author)
Advisor: E Walk

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Jason and Nicky: You have found love with each other

and now together you soar on eagle’s wings in endless space.

We miss you, we miss your love and your wit

May peace and light fill your days.

From Chapter 8: Pete and Joe, accompanied by Mac and Buddy, take a plane home to Baltimore. They see two mysterious guardian angels in the bodies of eagles, which seem to be watching over them.

Chapter 9

Coming home: The evening of June 9.

Pete, Joe, Mac and Buddy have said goodbye at the airport restaurant to Gerry and Chuck and taken an airport taxi back to their home on Milford Avenue. As the taxi pulled up in front of their house, Pete and Joe were surprised and touched to see that the tree in the block were decorated with red, white, and blue bunting, and signs that read ‘Welcome Home, Guys,’ and ‘Welcome to Baltimore, Mac and Buddy.’

For the benefit of new readers, let me take a few sentences to describe the houses on Milford Avenue. Each was a single dwelling, with two stories, an attic, and a full basement. They had wide front and back porches. The porches and first (‘ground’) floor were about five feet above the ground and were reached by flights of steps. The basements had windows at ground level on the outside, but about four feet from the floor of the basement.

Pete thanked the taxi driver, paid the fare, and added a generous tip. The taxi drove away and the four weary travelers picked up their suitcases. Down the steps from their house came Matt and Gary.

“You two must be Matt and Buddy,” said Gary. “You must be tired, so we aren’t going to visit with you long, but we want you to see what we did after your phone call.”

The six guys went up the steps to the front door, and Joe unlocked it. “Like the sign said, welcome to Baltimore, and to your new home, Mac and Buddy,” Pete said.

The four older men led the two younger men to the basement. At the foot of the stairs was a room that contained a heating unit (that used natural gas), a hot water heater, and a washer and dryer. There was a wall with a door in it.

“If you’ll allow us?” asked Gary. He opened the door and they went into a room that ran under the whole length of the house. The end of the room nearest the door had a large king sized bed flanked by end tables, and two chests of drawers. A walk-in cupboard jutted out from the wall, creating a division between the bedroom and the next area, which was a comfortable lounge with sofa, two chairs, a coffee table and a television set.

Beyond that there was a study area with two desks and chairs, two filing cabinets, and two new electric typewriters (Note to younger readers: Computers hadn’t yet arrived in every home! Imagine!).

The back of the apartment had a walled off bathroom with toilet, sink, and glass enclosed shower. The rest of the floor space was taken by a kitchen-dining area with small stove, a refrigerator, a sink and counter, and a table for eating with four chairs.

There were several windows in the living and kitchen areas, with attractive curtains with a blue and white check pattern, and at the far wall was a door opening on to an area under the back porch, and with steps leading up into the back yard.

Most of the furniture, except for the bed and the television, was not new, but everything sparkled and shone as if it were new.

Mac and Buddy looked at Pete and Joe and said, “Actually NO! We love it. Thank you. It’s wonderful.” They went to Pete and Joe and gave them warm, tight hugs.

“Thank Matt and Gary and whoever they got in to do the work,” said Pete.

Mac and Buddy looked at Matt and Gary and said, “Thank you, both of you. We’ve never had such a wonderful place to hang our coats, lay our heads or put our feet up. It’s great. Thank you!”

“Pete and Joe are two of our closest friends, and any friends of theirs are sure to be friends of ours, too,” Matt said.

Gary said, “We know all of you are suffering from jet-lag, so we’re going to leave you now, but be warned! There’s going to be a party tomorrow afternoon so the gang can properly welcome all of you. We’re going home now. Good night.”

Matt and Gary left, and Pete and Joe looked at their houseguests? Tenants? Friends? Dare we say it: sons?

“Good night, both of you. Sleep well. Even though you’ve got your own kitchen we’ll take you shopping for food in the morning, so would you two like to have breakfast with us, upstairs, tomorrow?” Joe asked.

“I flip a mean flap-jack,” Pete said, “and if you’re lucky, Joe will show you how well he can boil water!”

“We don’t know how to thank you for all of this, we’re going to be happy here. I can feel it,” Mac finished.

After a moment’s hesitation, there were several hugs before Pete and Joe went up to their own living area.

Mac and Buddy had unpacked their suitcases, and stowed their guitars neatly. (The author has an uncomfortable feeling that he hasn’t mentioned the guitars, but Mac and Buddy each had one, and they were pretty good at playing them, too).

They opened the back door and after pulling the curtains across the windows, opened them too. They sat on the couch and Buddy was resting his head on Mac’s shoulder.

“Yes, and I’m telling you, more and more I’m feeling like Pete and Joe are . .. , like . . ., well, like dads,” Buddy said.

“I know what you mean, sweetheart. (pause) I am a little tired. I think I’ll take a shower and turn in,” Mac said, yawning.

“Listen, you hot hunk, do you want to try out our new bed?” Buddy said with a leer.

Mac gave him a leer and said, “I don’t know, ‘doctor.’ I think I may be coming down with something. I think you’d better take my temperature with your very own special rectal thermometer.”

Buddy gave a slight pout and said, “Oh, Mac, like you I am feelin’ a mite poorly. Could you use your patented tongue depressor and check my tonsils first.”

Mac got up, shut the windows, locked the back door, stripped off buck naked right there in the living room, moved over to stand in front of his lover, and said, “Open wide, now!”

Two stories up, Pete and Joe were in their bedroom, preparing to retire for the night. Both were wearing blue briefs. For guys in their 50s they were still in pretty good shape.

Pete was lying on the bed and Joe lay down beside him and turned to give him a hug. To his surprise he saw that Pete had tears in his eyes.

“No, no, no! It’s just that I’m so damn happy to be home, to have you, and to have those two young men in our home, living with us,” Pete replied, sniffling a little.

Joe suddenly said in a ‘Clark Gable’ voice, “Scarlett, never in all the time I have known you, have you had a handkerchief. Here! Use mine.” Joe handed Pete a tissue.

“Oh, Rhett, where would I go? What would I do – without you? I know, I guess I would have to go back to Vegas,” Pet said in a ‘southern belle’ voice.

Pete had one more classic cinematic quote, “You know, Joe, if we can’t find happiness in our own bedroom, we aren’t going to find it anywhere because after all, there’s . . . “

Somehow all these lines from movies caused the sniffles to dry up, and the two lay hugging each other.

“Good night, Poppa Pete!” were Joe’s words as he turned out the light.

“Pete, have you ever thought what it would be like to . . . to . . . adopt those two?” Joe asked.

“Yes, my love, I have - several times! I wonder what Mac and Buddy would think of the idea?”

“Mark, you’re a great cook. Having supper with you was great!” Al said.

“I know, babe. I wish we could eat supper - and breakfast – together every day, but your apartment isn’t big enough for me to move in, and my place isn’t big enough either,” Mark said ruefully.

“Maybe we should look for an apartment to share. . . Look, we’re going to this party tomorrow. Maybe somebody there will have an idea,” Al said encouragingly.

“My brother Steve and his partner Jim have an announcement to make. Steve wouldn’t tell me what it was all about. We are just to be there at 12:30.”

“Okay, we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. I’m glad we have the day off. . . . Oh, say Al, do you want any dessert?”

“Yeah, Mark, I do, and I’ll tell you just what I want. I want a fruit cup, with two gorgeous purple plums, and a brownish banana I can savor, and then I want some of that sweet simple syrup you’re so good at making. Yum! Yum! . . . and what do you want for a snack?” Al asked, wriggling his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

“Mmmm. Let me see. I want something a little more substantial than fruit cocktail . . Oh, I’ve made a joke. Fruit. Cock. Tail. Get it? Ha ha ha.”

Al smacked Mark lightly on the back of the head, and said, “I get it, and your are so gonna get it too, you . . . cute cock lover, you!”

Mark went on, “Well, I want to gum two soft boiled potatoes that have all that nutrition in them, and then of course, I have to have that hot hotdog that is nestled on top of the potatoes, and lots of home-made gravy would just about round off the meal.”

Soon the two gourmands were enjoying their after dinner mints and nuts. My, my, my, they did enjoy them!

Across town, Tony Jones was settling down for the evening. He was thinking how happy he was living and working with Mama and Papa Lombardi, and he was thinking about that cute girl, Rosa di Napoli, who came into the store from time to time. Heck, lately it seemed as if she had come in every day, and she always seemed to wait until he could help her.

“She really is cute,’ he thought to himself, ‘she really is . . .’ Suddenly Tony sensed a growing bulge in his jeans. He decided to hurry up and undress and get in bed so he could think about how cute she was, and he wondered if she . . ., if he . . . if they . . .

While his mind was otherwise occupied, Tony was cleaning out his pockets and putting the loose change in a dish on his dresser, when a quarter fell on the floor, rolled under the bed, and rolled into the cupboard, back into a dark corner.

Tony got down on his hands and knees, and crawled into the cupboard, looking for the quarter. His hands came into contact with a metal box he had not realized was there. He found the quarter and then he pulled the box out of the cupboard and put it on his bed.

It was a metal box about 10” wide by 12” inches long by 3” deep. It had a lock and one key was in he lock, another key was on a ring attached to the first key. On top of the box was pasted a piece of cupboard with a sign in a young boy’s handwriting: “Personal and Private of Antonio Luigi Jones. Keep out. Death will come to all who open this box.” The corners of the sign were decorated with daggers dripping blood and skulls and crossbones.

‘Wow!’ Tony thought to himself. “Antonio sure wanted his privacy! I’m not gonna open it, but I’ll show it to Papa Luigi. He may want to keep it.

Down near the Baltimore waterfront, stood a crumbling rat-infested warehouse, believed to be abandoned and empty. There were plenty of four legged rats, but in a basement room three of the two legged variety sat around a table. They were the leaders of one of Baltimore’s most feared gangs, “The Satans.”

We have never met any of these gangsters, but we have heard of one of them before. Two of them were in this business only for the money, but the third member was in it for the opportunity to inflict pain.

The boss was known as ‘Brimstone.’ He was in his early 30s. He had a scar running from his forehead to the corner of his right eye. He was talking. “Brothers, we need to expand our operations.” We have the dope and protection rackets pretty well sewed up; but I think we have been overlooking a gold mine.”

“Wadda ya mean, boss, a gold mine?” the second man, ‘Sulfur,’ asked. He was in his early 20s. He had two gold crowns on his front teeth. His real name was Davon Taylor, and he was the brother of our friend Mark Taylor.

“Yeah, what gold mine?” ‘Snake,’ the third member of the group, chimed in. He was the member of the trio who was purely evil. While the other two might have taken money from a blind beggar, Snake would take the money and then kick the blind beggar into a gutter. He had snakes tattooed all over his arms, shoulders and chest.

‘Brimstone’ went on. “There are plenty of ho’ houses in Bawlmer, but I think we should open ‘House of Youth,’ with workers of both sexes, all under 16, to take care of all tastes.”

“We snatch ‘em off the street, take ‘em to a place I have in mind, get ‘em doped up, and take pictures of ‘em in compromising situations, and when they come out of their haze, tell ‘em if they try to escape, we send the pictures to their families.”

“I s-s-s-s-sertainly like the idea. I’ll take care of any boys you s-s-s-snatch. I’ll break ‘em in real good. I s-s-s-sure do like the idea, yes-s-s-s, I do,” hissed ‘Snake.’

Author’s comments: If there is any way I can make ‘Snake’ sound more evil, I’d like to hear it. And, dear readers, please don’t send me any comments that he was a poor misunderstood, abused child. It wasn’t even the idea of having sex with minors that turned him on. He liked inflicting pain. He had come from a loving happy family, but he was just pure evil.

Editor’s Comments: Since I got promoted to an editor. I have some things to say. The author has two grown men playing doctor with thermometers and tongue depressors. That wasn’t enough. He has two other grown men playing around with fruit cock tail and boiled potatoes and a hot dog. That still wasn’t enough, he had to introduce a mysterious box. I’m guessing that box contains baseball cards with full frontal shots of the players naked. Talk about evil - our esteemed author has us waiting for the next chapter.