This Chapter is dedicated to a young boy I met several weeks ago and helped him out as this is being readied to post. I learned he is now dead at the age of 12. Jamie I know your in a better place than this now. Where the Bastards of the world can do you no harm. Fly free my lad with the Angels and tell Saint Patrick Hello from me. Fly Free My Precious Friend Free with the Angels. For you're free at last from the pain of this world free at last from the evils of mankind. I saw power in your soul I saw friendship in your eyes I only wish I could have been there for you my boy. When daylight faded to darkness for the last time in your short life to hold you in my arms to comfort you to do all that I could in my power to save you from leaving here alone. This is my goodbye to you my friend. Until we meet again. I will always have a special place in my heart for you and all my other friends who have left this world for a better place.
Doctor Watson dived for the floor the second he saw the muzzle flash from the Navy Colt. The ball whizzed past his head and struck two feet from where Davie lay naked on the rough table. He was frozen in place and still hurting from the rough finger that was shoved unmercifully up his ass. The pistol Doctor Watson had grabbed moments before clattered to the hardwood floor and slid out of his immediate reach. Liam cocked the pistol again. "On your feet, you damned sodomite."
Watson, dazed from the impact of the hard floor, was stunned as he slowly stood to face Liam, his green eyes blazing emerald fire, his red hair seemed to blaze beneath his wide brimmed hat.
Two soldiers rushed into the room and stopped when they saw Liam with the smoking pistol and the gaping hole in the table. "Arrest that man, soldier, the charge is sodomy." The soldiers knew better than to disobey Liam O'Conell.
"Yes, sir." The two soldiers grabbed Watson under the arms and pulled him out the door, cursing and screaming.
"I will get you, you fucking Irish trash!"
Liam walked over and backhanded Watson in the mouth; blood trickled from his lips. "I also want him gagged and placed in solitary confinement at Fort Dearborn until I contact the President. "If I ever needed a favor from my third cousin, it is now." The two soldiers just looked on and Watson dropped his head in defeat; he knew he would not see daylight for a long time, if ever. He knew over in England that, if convicted of sodomy, it was death by firing squad. The two soldiers dragged the doctor away.
Liam then looked closely to where Davie still lay. He saw specks of blood on Davie's pale butt cheeks. "Oh dear Saint Patrick, I hit Davie." He holstered the pistol and moved swiftly to the table, then he noticed the bullet had showered the boy with splinters when it impacted the table. He was surprised the boy was not crying or weeping, just lying there, shivering from fright. "Davie, you OK, lad?"
Davie slowly turned around and looked at the Quartermaster. "Yesss, sir, I guess, but I hurt and my ass stings."
Liam smiled at Davie. "Oh my lad, you just got a small taste of war, but we usually don't fire at our own men."
"Sir, what about John and Ernest? Are they OK?"
Liam looked over to the corner where the two brothers were huddled together, holding each other tight. "Ah, my boyos, it is clear now. Come here to me. The two brothers crawled out of the corner and slowly approached Liam. They did know whether to trust him or not, and being buck ass naked did not help the situation. "Lads, get dressed, John and Ernest, help Davie and be gentle. I don't see no damage in his behind but I want to take you three home with me and quarter you there for tonight and then we will see if you still want to be in the Navy."
The two younger boys eased toward where Davie was slowly easing off the rough table. They just looked for a moment at Davie, scared that he would lash out at them for holding his legs. "Umm, Davie, we're sorry we had to hold your legs like we did. Please don't be mad at us."
Davie looked over at John, the brother who had spoken to him, and he saw the worry and the tears in the younger boy's eyes.
"Oh, John, I could never be mad at you two. You did nothing wrong, just followed that sadist doctor's orders."
"Whew." John wiped the sweat forming on his head and smiled at Ernest.
"Come here, you two!" The two brothers walked over to Davie. Davie wrapped his powerful arms around the two naked shivering boys and hugged them tightly. "We better get dressed before someone else decides to open fire. If I am being shot at, I would at least like to have some clothes on." Davie chuckled when he saw the stern expression on Liam's face melt into a grin.
"Nobody hurts my boyos, if I can help It. Now get those cute buns in your underwear, while I find my boyos the proper Navy Blues to wear." The quartermaster headed to the rear room while the three boys dressed in their underclothing.
"Davie, would you please step back here, my boy; let's see if this Navy blue jacket will fit ya."
Davie walked back to the separated supply room. Uniforms were stacked on shelves surrounding the walls of the small room. Four oil lamps hung in the center of the wood ceiling, casting shadows throughout the room.
"Ah, here you go, my boy, try them on and let me see how handsome you look."
Davie took the uniform from Liam and sat down and slipped on the dark royal blue trousers and then stood up and reached down and slipped the brass button through the buttonhole. Then he took the jacket and slipped it on over his shoulders and buttoned the single row of brass eagle buttons from chin to bottom one. Then he took the blue sailor's cap and placed it over his dull red hair. Davie knew it needed washing but in the wintertime and in a leaky, creaky shack he lived in, washing anything but the necessary areas was not a good idea.
"Very handsome indeed, my boyo. Here, put on these good shoes. They should fit fine."
Davie took the shoes and looked down at his dirty socks. He slipped the shoes on and laced them up and stood not too bad. "They fit fine, sir, kinda loose but OK."
"Very fine, my lad. Go outside and see what your new friends think of you now, all dressed up." Liam smiled, he did make a handsome sailor.
Davie walked into the other room and Liam could hear the whistles of approval from the two brothers.
"OK, boyos, it's your turns, come on back here so I can see what I can find for my two drummer boys."
John and Ernest raced to where Liam was standing in the supply room, Davie on their heels like an older brother. Liam watched the three boys and he thought, 'Yes, yes, Davie would be a fine older brother for these two. They would be safe with Davie watching over them.'
Liam handed both brothers a stack of blue uniforms. 'Here, try these on while I dig Davie out two more sets for him. Liam walked over the shelf and pulled two more sets of trousers and jackets and three pair of socks and long woolen underwear that was dyed a dark blue for Davie and grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed them inside and passed it to Davie.
Davie smiled, "Thank you, sir!" Davie looked over to Ernest and John and they were just buttoning up their jackets. "Looked like what you picked out for those two was just right and, boy, do they look cute."
Liam looked over, "You're right, Davie, those two are cute in their Union blues just like you, my boy." Liam grabbed four more uniforms and six pair of socks and two more duffel bags and stuffed both of them and handed two smaller pairs of shoes to John and Ernest. "Here ya go, boyos, try these shoes on."
The two brothers put the shoes on and laced them up. They smiled, "Thank you for the nice shoes, sir!" They smartly saluted the Quartermaster like they had seen others doing it.
Liam smiled and returned the salute and Davie, not to be outdone, saluted also. "Ah, my boyos, I am so proud of you three." Liam walked over and hugged all three. He smiled, "That was from me, you will make me proud." "The proud three!"
They all walked out of the back room and the boys picked up their dirty street clothes. "What should we do with these, sir?" asked Davie.
"Burn them if you want. You will not need them on the ironclads. Any soldier caught out of uniform in enemy territory is considered a spy and is usually shot on the spot."
The three boys took their street clothes over to the wood stove and opened the door and threw them into the flames. Then they stepped back; they just took their first step of their new adventure.
Liam slapped the boys on their backs. "Come on, my boyos, let's head home for a hot supper and some hot baths."
Liam led them into the large room and up to a large desk. "Sergeant Walker, have my carriage waiting outside at the door. I am leaving early today."
"Yes sir, Quartermaster O'Conell!"
"Private Adams, prepare Quartermaster O'Conell's carriage for his early departure."
"Yes sir, Sergeant Walker." The private saluted and headed out to perform his duties.
The three boys walked around the large crowded room. The men enlisting stared at the boys, some with admiring eyes, others with scorn at their young ages. Soon the private returned inside and saluted, "Your carriage is ready, sir!"
"Thank you, private. Lads, follow me."
The three boys stepped in line behind Liam and followed him out the door of the rear section of the building onto the street and walked to the waiting carriage. The servant stood, dressed in a heavy black jacket and dark brown trousers, holding the door open. Liam stepped inside, followed by John and Ernest, finally Davie. Once the passengers were inside and seated, the servant closed the door. Liam and Ernest sat in one seat while John and Davie sat facing them on the other.
The big carriage pulled away from the recruitment office and turned north on the brick lined street. The two big bays eased down the street in a fast trot while Liam and the three boys passed the time in quiet talk.
The driver dodged all the heavy traffic, from grain wagons to foot traffic, with ease. The center section of Chicago had nice paved streets of brick while the outlying areas were still unpaved. During the summer they were dust and in winter rivers of mud. The wooden wheels made loud clacking sounds as the carriage passed over the brick paving stones as it traveled north to Michigan Avenue and the O'Conell estate. In later years Michigan Avenue would become host to the fine homes of the Crowns, Vanderbilts, Pullman, and others. Now it was just beginning to grow, like the rest of the once frontier town.
Davie, John, and Ernest all stared out the carriage windows, looking at the landmarks they all knew by heart, but this was the first time any of them had seen them while riding down the street and not walking. Davie and John huddled close together in the chilly carriage. At least the windows kept out the cold north wind that was beginning to howl outside. The carriage turned and entered Michigan Avenue and began to slow. "Not far now, my lads," said Liam.
John and Ernest were amazed at the fine houses being built or the nice ones already occupied by some of the finer families of the booming city.
The servant led the carriage through a set of wrought iron gates set into granite gate posts, with lit lanterns perched on top. All three boys gasped at this sight. Liam noticed and smiled, 'Just wait until they see the house of this Irisher.'
Yes, he was one of the lucky ones growing up, and still was in many ways. His father Patrick and mother both were well off in Ireland and brought most of their wealth to the States when they left as new trouble was beginning to brew on the old sod. They settled first in Boston, then moved west to Chicago, where he was raised for the last years of his youth and it was here that his father struck his new fortune by investing in lumber and grain and the newly formed Central Railroad project. He shared the family house with both his wife and daughter and his parents; the house was large enough for both families now, and right now it was empty. His parents were on a trip back to Ireland and had invited his wife and daughter to join them. So here he was, taking three boys home and there was no one to bother them.
The carriage swung around the arch in the drive, past the formal gardens and fountain leading up to the main house, sitting on a slight hill in the center of the 5 blocks owned by the O'Conells. The servant eased the big bays to a halt in front of the three story granite and brick house. Liam heard the gasps from the three boys as they first set eyes upon the largest house they had ever seen.
The servant climbed down and opened the carriage door closest to the front door of the mansion. "Thank you, Joe."
"My pleasure, Mr. O'Conell," replied the small man with graying hair and short mustache. Joe stood 5 foot 5 and walked with a limp; he lost the lower part of his left leg in an Indian engagement during the Black Hawk Wars during the time Chicago was known as Fort Dearborn. Joe loved Patrick and Liam; they treated him with the same respect as a good friend and not their carriage driver or hired white servant like many of the finer families treated their man servants.
"Follow me, lads." Liam gestured toward the front landing of the house with his right hand as he spoke.
The three lads, with their eyeballs trying to pop out of their sockets, fell in step behind Liam and walked up to the massive house and entered. The three boys did not know what to do when the light from the massive cut crystal chandeliers shone down on their dirty faces in their clean blue uniforms. They looked around the entrance hall, dazed with the finery that surrounded them.
"Well, come on, my lads, no need to stand in the hallway all afternoon." Liam laughed when the boys jumped, knocked out of their daydreams by his words. The three boys followed Liam into the main living area of the house. It was huge compared to the shanties they lived in. The whole two-room shanty of Davie's parents could have fit in half of the living area. There were smaller rooms behind closed doors leading off from the main room and they could see the massive dining hall through the open French doors. "Well, lads, have a seat." The three boys sat down on the large horsehair sofa and Liam eased himself into an overstuffed chair and pulled a Cuban cigar from inside his uniform jacket. The oak wood crackled in the large hearth as the flames heated the room.
Davie felt a light trickle of sweat beginning to form on his forehead and used a sleeve to wipe his face. Liam noticed it; he seemed to notice the uneasiness of the three lads sitting closely together on the large sofa. Liam stood and walked over the crackling fire and stirred it with an iron poker, then removed a long slender stick from a holder and stuck the tip to the flames until it lit. He brought the flame up to the tip of his cigar and lit it. The end glowed a bright red as the tobacco lit. He turned and faced the boys once more as he unbuttoned his heavy blue overcoat. Liam pulled the overcoat off, revealing the royal blue woolen undershirt.
"Laddies, pull off those uniform top coats. The house is plenty warm. I had a private ride over this afternoon and inform the servants to light the upper fireplaces and have the cook to prepare us a hearty meal of beefsteak and potatoes for supper. I also took the liberty to dispatch a letter to your parents, Davie, so they would not worry about you when you do not return home after the city is cloaked in darkness. I do believe there is a storm brewing out tonight, the way the wind is howling like a dying Brit."
The three boys laughed at the comment about the Brit. They were all Irish and knew the old joke from listening to their parents. They began to unbutton the heavy brass buttons on their jackets when Davie realized they were not wearing any undershirts beneath like Liam was.
"Umm, sir, we do not have anything on beneath our top jackets. We dressed so fast we did not take the time to get them from our bags. I guess we really were in a hurry to get out of that damned room after what that mad doctor tried to do to me, sir." Davie blushed, then added, "I am sorry, sir, for cursing in your home. Forgive me, sir."
Liam was both proud and impressed with Davie's manners. "Davie, my boy, it is fine and, please, it is Liam around friends and messmates. I may be older and have a high rank but among friends we are equals. Also, my boyos, I do not mind the chance to look at such fine lads shirtless. Yes, my lads, I am married with a fine wife and sweet lass who are now traveling around the old sod with my parents. As a young lad myself I dreamed of the other lads at school and while riding with my father."
Davie blushed, "Thank you, sir. Umm, Liam." And he smiled.
"Well, come on, lads, let's go eat our supper before it gets cold. Then I will lead the three of you upstairs to your sleeping quarters so you boys can wash up and retire. After the meal you all will need the rest. After a restful sleep in a real feather bed and a hearty breakfast, I will put you three on a southbound Illinois Central train for Cairo and your boat, the USS BENTON."
Davie, John, and Ernest followed Liam into the dining room. Liam draped his jacket over a chair and the three boys left theirs on but did not bother to rebutton them. They knew they had a friend in Liam. Davie also knew deep down Liam loved lads as much as he loved his wife and lass Katie. Yes, she was a beautiful young lady who would make the right man a wonderful wife someday. One more personal battle. Who was he? Who did he love more, lasses or lads? Would he survive the war whole enough to find out who he would love in the end?
As they entered the dining room, the smells of the food assaulted them. Hot beef and potatoes steaming in a broth of carrots, peas, and corn. The fresh baked loaf of white bread with a golden brown crust on top, fresh butter dripping down the sides onto the heavy plate which it sat upon. China plates were placed at one end of the long table that could seat twelve people easy. Tall stemmed glasses, two at each plate setting, filled with both water and a dark brown liquid, once Davie took his seat to the right of Liam, who sat at the head of the table. John sat on Davie's right and Ernest to Liam's left.
Davie knew the smell of the dark brown liquid once he was close to the glass of aged brandy.
"Lads, please let us bow our heads in prayer to our Master for this food and a quick end to this dreadful war and to the safe keeping of my sister in New Orleans and her family."
Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes as Liam recited a traditional Irish prayer they all knew by heart and at the end they all joined in. "Amen."
Ernest and John looked over toward Davie as Liam dished the steaming stew into the heavy bowls, filling each one to the rim.
"Davie, please pass the bread."
Davie first passed the plate to John and he removed two slices of the soft bread. Then Davie removed two as he passed it to Liam and Ernest. The plate was then returned to its place on the table.
"Boys, dig in." Liam picked up his silver spoon and dipped it into the stew, scooping a portion on it and bringing it to his lips and placed it into his mouth. Liam nodded with satisfaction, then they all began to eat. Liam once again impressed with the manners of the three boys to remember the old ways of the homeland which they came from of letting the master of the table take the first bite of food before joining in. Liam felt mixed emotions inside, the pride of meeting these fine lads and the loathing of sending them off to war and the possibility of them never returning.
The three boys dug into the hot stew and soft bread. Liam watched the boys in quiet satisfaction as the food was not chewed but inhaled. Very little was said as the four males ate their meal, Liam watching with satisfaction of feeding these growing boys a hearty meal before the long two day ride by train to Cairo.
The boys stood and stretched and asked Liam to thank the cook for the wonderful meal. Out of the large supper only bread crumbs and a very light broth was left of it. Liam had drunk his usual four glasses of brandy. Davie downed two himself and felt the liquor hit him as he stood.
John and Ernest both drank one glass out of respect, then stuck with chilled ice water for the rest of the meal. Davie walked out of the dining room with John and Ernest on his heels like two young puppies. He walked back into the living room and looked at the brilliant oil paintings of the family. A large one hung over the fireplace mantle; it showed Patrick and his wife and a young boy of about thirteen years old with bright red hair. In the background a large Irish manor house stood on a green grassy hill, surrounded by fields.
Liam quietly walked into the room. "That is my mother and father and me back in Ireland. Father wanted it done to remind him of his homeland while he made his new life in his new land. I was twelve years old when that was painted on that spring day so long ago. That was two years before my sister was born, the one who now lives in New Orleans. I know what you boys are wondering, why is my sister in the deep South when there is a war going on? Well, the answer is simple, she fell in love with a German lad named Otto Davis. They were married in '55. Otto works for the New Orleans, Jackson, and Great Northern Railroad. In 1860 they had a son and named him Samuel. I have not heard anything from them since the outbreak of the war. All I can do is pray for their safety. Otto does not believe in slavery nor does my sister Mary. They fell in love with the city and the South and so they stayed. I do not hold anything against them for living in the South during this time. Otto said he would never take up arms against the Union. I met him at their wedding and he is a noble person and true to his word. Here Liam led three boys over to a small corner table where a gas lamp burned brightly. He picked up a tinplate photograph showing a smiling young couple. Davie could tell the young man had blonde hair that was long and straight and the bride in her white dress had red hair; the photographer had hand tinted the photo to give it subtle color. He could also make out in the background St. Mary, the name of the church.
"Come on, lads, enough of my ramblings of my past. Time for me to lead you upstairs so you can wash up and get a restful sleep after today's events." The three nodded in agreement as they walked over to where they had placed their bags and retrieved them. Liam led them to the wide carpeted stairs and they began to climb, looking at paintings from the past. Heroic naval battles to one of Napoleon astride his war horse. There was even one of George Washington and Lafayette saluting each other after the surrender of Yorktown. They climbed to the second floor landing and walked down a long hallway, gas lamps hissed as they burned, lighting the hall. They passed closed double doors of the master bedroom and down to a room where the heavy door was open. Liam led them in. A large full four post bed was in the center and small tables flanked both sides. On the far wall, shelves of books lined it from top to bottom and gas lamps hung on the wall by the door. An oil lamp stood on a center table. A rich maroon carpet covered the floor.
"Well, lads, here is your room for the night. I am sure you do not mind sleeping with each other for company."
Davie answered for all of them. "No sir, we don't mind at all. It will be nice to sleep in a real bed for once and not just a pallet on the cold floor."
"Very good, my lads, the water closet is at the end of the hall. Come on, I will show you how to draw the tub full of water."
The boys followed Liam a short distance down the hall and to a room on the corner. "Well, here we are," and he opened the door. It was dark in the room until Liam turned a small brass wheel on the gas lamp located near the door. The lamp sputtered and the smell of gas became stronger as the gas began to burn brighter and light the room. The room was about the size of a normal bedroom, tiles lined the floor, alternating between black and white. The large zinc tub sat in the middle with a wooden platform built around it and steps leading to the rim. A small hand pump was located at one end of it. The boys had seen pumps like this all their life but this was the first time they had seen one inside a house. A Franklin stove sat in the corner, the flames bright against the thick glass in the doors. A small wooden box held a supply of pine knots and coal near the stove, a brass bar ran along the wall, and towels were hung there to stay warm. The boys could not believe they were seeing this with their own eyes; they were awestruck.
Liam clapped Ernest on the back. "Well, let me show you how it works. It is very simple and another one of my father's ideas. Most people think we are crazy for wanting to take a bath every day, but father believes cleanness is holiness."
"The hand pump brings cold water from the well located out back of the main house. The hot water comes from the Franklin stove in the corner. You see the small brass wheel on the side of the stove that opens the water reservoir? Each side has a wheel and each holds 30 gallons of hot water. This stove is very common. Most people cook on them but father had this one changed to just heat water. The metal bucket is behind the stove; it holds 2 gallons but I would not fill it all the way full or you might burn yourself and I do not want that to happen or I might have to call Doctor Watson to come patch you up!"
The three boys gasped at the mention of the doctor's name and spun to look at Liam, who had a big grin on his face. "I was joking, lads, about the doctor but not about being burned, so be careful. My bedroom is right across the hall so if you need me don't hesitate to call for me. When you finish drying off, hang the towels back up and the maid will get them to wash in the morning. "You may sleep however you wish as I will be the one knocking on your door in the morning. I am going to retire to my chamber to do some reading. I greatly enjoy Hawthorn's works."
The three boys thanked Liam and wished him a pleasant night.
"So, Davie, we going to bathe separate or together to save water?" asked John. "Well, I figured we could bathe together, no need in using all the hot water since I have no idea how you fill that damned thing up. All I ever fooled with was a pot belly wood stove."
The two brothers nodded in agreement. "Same here, Davie, we only seen the cooking stoves and they ain't that big."
Davie walked over and picked up the metal bucket from behind the stove. "John, work the lever on the pump and see if we need to prime it."
"OK, Davie", John walked up the steps and grabbed the handle and began to work it up and down. It made a sluicing sound, then a stream of ice cold water began to pour in the tub. "Shit, that is cold," then blushed crimson. Davie had not heard him or his brother use much foul language since they met that afternoon.
Davie laughed at John. "It is ok, my little friend, we all use those words at times and you're kinda cute when you blush so red like that."
Ernest fell in the floor laughing when he saw John turn even a brighter crimson. John splashed a little water on Ernest and watched his face turn from laughing to shock. "Damn, brother, you're right, that water is cold. Good thing this room is nice and warm."
"Davie, hurry up with that hot water, will ya." shouted John.
"Keep your britches on, will ya! I am trying to find something to open this tap without burning my hand."
"Take your coat off and use it to turn the tap on. It's not like you have nothing to hide, we seen it all." John giggled.
"Fine, I will then." Davie pulled his jacket off and used it to turn the hot brass wheel and loosen it. The hot water began to run out in a small stream, steam rising from the stream as it ran into the bucket." When the bucket was half full he carried it over to the tub, using the wooden handle attached to the metal bail. He poured the hot water into the cold water and returned to the stove. This time he reached down with his bare hand and turned the brass wheel, not too hot for just the few seconds his fingertips made contact. Davie carried this bucket full and poured it in. "John, stop the cold water about half full, ok."
"OK, Davie, will do. Ernest, why don't you remove your shoes and then pull off mine. No need to wear them and mine is getting wet."
"OK, John," Ernest bent down and pulled off his shoes and socks, then walked over to where his brother was sitting and removed his. John also handed Ernest his jacket. "Here, do the same with all three jackets, put them over there for now," pointing to a small wood table in the corner, "that way they don't get wet."
Davie soon had enough hot water in the tub to balance it with the cold. A haze of steam drifted from the water as John and Ernest began to strip out of their jackets and trousers. Davie watched the two brothers as they stripped, feeling his member grow hard in his trousers. 'Those two boys, I will love running my fingers over every inch of their bodies,' Davie thought as he unbuttoned his trousers and kicked off his shoes and socks. Then he pulled off his blue trousers and his manhood sprang free.
John was watching out of the corner of his eye. "Wow, Ernest, look at the size of Davie's snake." Davie turned crimson as he listened to John's words. Then he realized it was a compliment. Davie then smiled and looked over at the two staring brothers. "You two get in the damned tub and quit staring at something you both have." Davie laughed as both boys scrambled to get into the zinc tub. Davie followed right on their heels. John, Ernest, and Davie all got into the big tub but they had little room to spare. Each boy sat between the others' spread legs. Davie picked up a sponge and began to wash John's back with the hot water. He jumped a little at the first touch of Davie's hands on his back. Then John really began to enjoy the feelings of another boy's hands on his naked body. John felt his boyhood begin to stiffen with each touch of Davie's hands. Davie scrubbed John's back, feeling the smooth, hot boy flesh beneath his fingers. Soon John was beginning to breathe harder as Davie continued. Ernest looked back and saw what was going on and for a minute felt left out. John saw the hurt expression in his brother's eyes and knew what was going through his head.
"Turn around, Ernest." John picked up a sponge and began to wash and scrub his brother's smooth back in slow movements. Davie smiled, 'how thoughtful of John.' The three boys continued to wash each other's backs and Davie poured some water over John's head to wet his dark brown hair, then he picked up the soap and began to scrub some into the thick hair. John moaned as he felt the magic fingers go to work on his scalp and hair, washing away the dirt and grime to make it shine again. John copied Davie and began to wash his brother's hair and it was lighter brown hair. Ernest was enjoying the same treatment of his younger brother. Then they both realized that no one was giving Davie the same treatment. Ernest whispered this into John's ear, hoping Davie would not overhear his plan. John nodded in agreement, leaving Davie with a puzzled look on his face. Davie washed the soap from John's wet hair and soon John finished doing Ernest's hair.
John felt Davie's hard cock pressing against his behind. At first he did not know what to make of it. Then he realized it felt pretty good, it was soft and smooth and, when he moved, it slid along his upper buttocks. Ernest and John both had scrubbed their genital areas clean and their chests and stomachs while Davie washed John's back. John washed his front side with his free hand as he worked on his older brother with his other hand. Ernest stood up and stepped out of the big tub and John followed. Davie expected to see them walk over to the towel rack and begin to dry off. The two brothers instead leaned back over the tub and John took the sponge Davie held in his hand and began to soap it back up. Ernest motioned for Davie to slide further down into the water and relax. Davie did after a funny expression and a little coaxing from John. Davie slid deeper into the tub and felt his tired muscles relax; he stopped when the hot water was lapping at his chin. The brothers began to work their magic on Davie, one set of hands soaping up his lower legs and feet while the other set soaped up his stomach and chest. Never did he realize a bath could feel so damned good. Davie lay there with his eyes closed and so relaxed he doubted he could stand up if he needed to at that moment.
John smiled at his brother and nodded toward Davie's groin where his cock was rock hard and sticking up like a flagpole of a sunken ship. Ernest winked and nodded back at John and pointed down to John's groin where his own boyhood pointed out from his stomach. John grinned at his brother because Ernest was sporting one also.
Conflicting emotions should have been running through these brothers' minds. Their parents taught them that even playing with them was a damnable sin but John and Ernest's parents were dead. They had been dead for three long years, killed in a train derailment on one of the pioneer railroads that entered Chicago from the west, the Northern Cross Line. The brothers were now wards of the state and they learned more than they needed to know to survive on the streets and what the other older boys did after the lamps were put out for the night.
So now all those religious teachings by a set of parents who never really loved their sons did not even come to light as they scrubbed the dirt and grime away off their new friend. They knew Davie trusted them as he lay there so relaxed, his manhood standing tall out of the water and, more importantly, they trusted him. They never really made friends at the orphanage because they knew trust was just words and never actions.
This afternoon they learned about trust and friendship from this red haired lad and a man named Liam O'Conell. John and Ernest also were learning that love came in many forms and here lay one before them in the tub as their youthful hands roamed the smooth flesh and tight muscles that were now like jelly, relaxed and unburdened for the first time in who knew how long. These boys were repaying Davie for something that they only dreamed of for the last three years, a true friend. Now they were going to set out for adventure tomorrow as a band of brothers. A bond of blood between two, a stronger bond of friendship between the three of them. Both brothers had the same thought at the same time, 'How many others had found such a friendship like this one?'
The brothers continued to scrub and wash Davie. John was now washing Davie's red hair. John did not realize how red it was until the dirt began to soften and wash out. Now it was beginning to shine like Liam's, a beautiful bright red. Ernest had just reached Davie's groin and did not know if he should continue or not. Ernest had never touched a penis before except his own. He wanted to but was scared, what if Davie did not like it? Ernest paused for a moment and looked up at John and Davie. Davie still lay with his eyes closed, enjoying the treatment he was receiving from the brothers. Ernest held the sponge and pointed to Davie's erect penis. John nodded for his brother to continue. Ernest moved up a little closer to Davie's middle on the outside of the big tub, then leaned over and began to lightly rub Davie's upper legs and thighs and sides with the sponge but letting the tips of his fingers feel Davie's flesh. Ernest did not realize one could keep a hard on for such a long time but his member was still rock hard from just rubbing his hands on Davie as he cleaned. Ernest took the plunge and brushed the tip of the wet sponge across the top of Davie's pubic area, running it through the red hair. Davie bucked up a little, then settled back down. Ernest continued, then lower until he reached the base of Davie's cock and he washed it, then he ran the sponge up it. Davie let out a loud moan but did not say a thing against Ernest's actions. Ernest took this as a sign to continue. John had finished washing Davie's hair and now was watching his older brother wash the hard penis of Davie. Then he too got a idea; he moved to Davie's side and started to rub Davie's chest with his bare hands. Davie opened his eyes and John stopped and tried to step back from the tub but Davie's strong hands stopped him and he took John's hands and placed them back on his chest for him to continue.
"You two really know how to make a lad feel good."
John blushed and Ernest wanted to pull back and stop from embarassment. Once again Davie took control and grabbed Ernest's hand and removed the sponge and placed it back on his hard member.
"Wow, you don't mind us feeling your body, Davie?" asked Ernest.
"Not when it feels this good. I see both of you are enjoying this as much as I am."
Both brothers blushed.
"Damn, you two are so cute when you do that." Davie smiled at them. "John, why don't you step around to the other side of the tub." John looked funny for a moment, then he stepped down from the small wood platform and walked around to the other side. Davie took John's hands and pulled him closer and then placed them back on his chest. John then realized where his penis was, almost touching Davie's body and he got ready to move it away until Davie reached and grabbed it in his hand and slowly began to pump it. John moaned deep as Davie took his penis in his hand and began to stroke it. Ernest continued to stroke Davie's cock and Davie knew he would not last much longer before he shot his white cream out of the tip.
"Ernest, you might want to stop now."
"Why, Davie, am I hurting it?"
"No, you're not hurting it, just the opposite, it feels grand but if you continue doing what you're doing I am going to shoot white stuff out the end and all over you."
"Ahh, you're going to pop your willy, huh?"
"Is that what you call it?"
"Well, that is what all the older boys called it."
Ernest smiled then, "I want to help you pop your willy," and smiled broader.
John slowly pulled back from Davie and moved closer to Davie's hard penis. He then reached out and placed one of his hands around his brother's and they both worked the skin up and down the shaft. Davie began to moan louder and soon he arched his back up and screamed, "Oh my Lord," and erupted all over the two brothers' hands. The two brothers smiled at each other and Davie, then quickly began to wash the white cream off of Davie and their hands.
"OK, you two go over there and start drying off in case Liam heard. I do not want him to think we were doing what we were doing in his tub room."
The two brothers raced over and grabbed the warm towels and began to rub them over their mostly dry bodies and through their clean hair. Davie climbed out of the tub and joined them and dried himself but let the brothers dry his back and hair for him. They re-hung the towels on the rack and gathered their uniforms and shoes and Davie turned the little brass wheel on the lamp like Liam did to turn down the jet of gas going to the lamp. They walked down to their room. As they passed Liam's closed door they all noticed the light shining below the door and they wished him a good night.
Liam told the boys good night and he laid the book on the table beside his bed and turned down the jet to his lamp. He wasn't reading but he heard the scream and he knew what brought it on and he smiled as he remembered the first time another lad had done the same for him.
Davie, Ernest, and John entered their room and placed their uniforms on the table and they climbed into the big bed naked, clean, and refreshed. The two brothers insisted on Davie sleeping in the middle and he agreed to. He did not know why they wanted him in the middle until the two brothers joined him on both sides and snuggled close to him.
"Good night, little brother," said Ernest.
"Good night, big brother," said John.
Then together, "Good night, Big Brother," and they kissed Davie on the cheeks.
"Good night, my little ones." And Davie wrapped his arms around his new brothers and they drifted off into sleep and their dreams of what lay ahead.
In the other bedroom Liam also was sleeping, dreaming of the past and of the lad he shared his grandest summer of his youth with before coming to America. There was peace this night as they dreamed while the war continued on.
I am sorry it took so long with this chapter, my readers. I hope you enjoy the newest adventures of our friends. I have been having some adventures of my own, including a trip out of state with a great friend and some other adventures on the Railroad where I work.
I would like to thank Ed for his help with this chapter.
I would also like to thank Willy B. and Chris for their support and to all my readers who have stuck with me.
Please E-Mail me your comments. I love hearing from you, it gives me the will to continue to spin these tales. Swarri1349@aol.com
May the circle of friendship never be broken between me and my special brother. Saint Patrick, look down and protect my Brother Brent, for without him I would not be whole.
Stephen