PARIS VERSUS THE RIVER
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM
You could hear the resentment in his posthole diggers as Zach tore into the sod. At his feet lay a dozen dried, misshapen poles, at his belt hung a hammer on one side and a cloth bag filled with staple-nails and tied to his belt with its twine at the top. Zach's body was slick with sweat that dripped into his eyes as he slammed the posthole diggers down, biting into the dry, hard dirt. When the rains came, this dirt was deep black in color, rich and fertile. But in the middle of that August dry spell we'd had back in the summer of 1925...it might as well be rock for all it'd grow!
I called out when I got close enough; you don't sneak up on a old Southern country boy if'n you can help it. Zach didn't have a gun with him, and I was an old friend of his, but you still just don't surprise someone like that. "Hey, Zach!" I called.
Zach turned and his sweat flung from his sleek black hair as he did. "Adam!" he called to me, an easy grin lighting his face.
"Need some help?" I volunteered. Of course I'd help, that was understood. If Zach had come upon me working on a fence, he'd pitch in himself to help me. Part of that was the neighborly way of farming, the other part of that was friendship.
"Why, thank you." he said. "I reckon it's nearly done here. Just put in the poles and tack the wire onto it, and that'll finish this stretch."
"I'll take care of the poles while you're finishing up that hole." I said and took up a pole, carried it to the end of the small row of holes he had dug. With the grass yellow and the dirt pale brown, it can be hard to spot a posthole if you don't know what you're looking for. I knew, so they stood out like a row of tin soldiers.
Stick the pole in, tamp the end down tight to set it, then kick the clods in around it with your feet, stamping on it when you were done to pack the dirt down tight around the post. I'd done this chore many times before, it was easy work for a farm. Not as bad as haying. Zach's field would need cutting before too much longer, even in summer, that tough grass would keep on growing, making bursts at every drop of moisture, even the little bit that comes with the dew at night, and though the top of the grass was yellow, there was a small, sheltered bit of green at the bottom of each blade that fed off this little bit of water and used it to grow and grow. Grass in summer only looks dead, it's just sleeping away the hot days until it can be rescued, is all. A couple days of rain, and every yellow blade of grass would turn itself green once again.
Zach met me halfway with the poles, and then I held the barbed wire in place while he hammered the staples into place. A U-shaped nail with two tails and no head, it bit into the old wood easily, clamping the wire to the grayed, dry wood posts.
Done, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and said, "Thanks, Adam."
"T'weren't nothing." I said, and I meant it. "I come out to see if maybe you wanted to go fishing with me. Too hot to work in the fields."
"That it is." Zach agreed with me. "Only when a cow knocks down your fence, you get out and fix it anyhow. Dumb-ass critters, they got better food my side of the fence than they do outside it, but they go after the grass on the other side, anyhows."
"Wanting what they ain't got." I agreed. "Lots of us got that problem." Only I wasn't thinking of me when I said it.
The idea of fishing this afternoon hadn't been mine, it had been Zach's mom. Ever since Zach's dad passed away nearly two years ago, Zach had been the man of the house, working the farm and taking care of things. The land was his by rights, only his mother had lifetime tenancy in it. Not that he would kick his mother off the land if he could've, but still, you could see Zach champing at the bit like a horse wanting to get the reins off and into the pasture again. His mother had seen it, and fetched me to talk to him. If Zach up and left the farm, like he was pretty close to doing, his mother wouldn't be able to keep the place up. The place didn't pay enough to let her hire someone. She'd have to go move in with one of her daughters, and leave the farm to Zach, who would then sell it.
Zach wasn't a bad son, he was as good to his momma as he could be. But you can't be good to the point of burying yourself on a farm you didn't want, and that was Zach's problem.
Zach and I went back to his house and he washed up some at the pump. His momma came out with a cloth wrapped bundle, some hoecakes for us to eat for a lunch, so it was just get the fishing poles and head for the river. The river was nearly two miles away, but it was all on a forest path, with the heavy head of leaves over us, cutting the anger out of the summer sun, we sauntered easily, not talking, eating the hoecakes while we walked, so we wouldn't waste time on it at the river.
When we got there, we did some looking until we found a rotting tree, and pulled the bark down to fetch off some of those fat white grubs for our bait, them grubs are better for catching fish than earthworms in the summertime, when the worms dig themselves deep and get scarce to find. But those worms get all fat and round eating away in the cool shade of the forest and they are tempting as hell to the fish who find the bugs hard to get in the summertime themselves.
The only-est problem that we had was that we were on the south side of the riverbank, and that meant that we didn't get a lick of shade if we stood where we could cast our lines into the water. We didn't have those fancy reels and rods that city folks had, we just had a couple of sturdy bamboo poles and a length of fishing line with a hook, a piece of lead a couple inches above the hook to make it sink, and a bobbin at about two feet over that to make the whole thing stay the right depth in the water. The trick to fishing was to set your bobbin so the hook would get right down to where the fish were. Zach and I knew this river well, we got those grubs right down to where the water would be cool and the fish were waiting for sundown and would eye that fat dinner just dangling there nearby.
But the lack of shade in August can be a problem. "You want to cross the river?" I asked Zach. "We could carry our clothes over our heads for it, I reckon."
Zach shook his head. "Naw. Fish won't bite till a bit later in the afternoon, anyways. Let's just set the poles and watch them until then."
"Fine with me." and we got some rocks and put our fishing poles in them so that they would hold up until some fish struck the bait. Then they'd fall over, but if a man was quick, the fish wouldn't have time to drag his pole away before he could catch it, and even if he didn't, the pole would float and the man could swim out and fetch it back, fish and all.
The trees around us were mostly oak and acorn trees, fine squirrel hunting if we had been out chasing squirrels. But we'd come to fish, the squirrels chattered at us until they got bored and then went back to hiding nuts for the winter.
Zach stretched out under the oak tree and I laid my bones nearby. Zach looked so natural laying there, his black hair atop his white body, his arms and chest well muscled from all his farm labors, so that the old overalls clung to his body in a long sweeping arc down to the junction of his legs. He looked pretty as a picture there.
"One of them there French fellows of yours would love to sculpt you lying like that, I bet." I said to him, by way of joshing him.
"You think so?" Zach said. "Maybe when I get over there, I'll look one of them up."
"You really going?" I asked him.
Zach nodded soberly. "We can sell a couple more cattle this fall if the price is good. I figure half of that for Mom to let her run the farm, and the other half for me to go see Paris." And Zach reached in and pulled out one of his French postcards.
Those weren't the kind with the naked women on them, the postcards. Zach had postcards that showed Paris, the Eiffel Tower, the Rue De La Pais (or whatever they call it), the Arc De Triumph and I don't know what all else. "Look at this." he said to me.
I looked, and it was a picture of Paris at nighttime, taken from on top of one of their taller buildings. Just a load of lights and you could see the Eiffel Tower at one side, all lit up. "Looks like a Christmas tree." I commented as I passed it back to him.
"Damn, Adam." Zach groaned. "You want to stay out here the rest of your life?"
"I reckon so." I admitted.
"There's a whole world out there." Zach said to me, like he'd said plenty of times before. "All these wonderful things just sitting there, waiting for us to see it. Don't you want to see what that kind of life is like? Don't you want to see how other people live? Maybe you don't have to get up at dawn and feed the chickens and pigs and cows, and then walk a plow behind a horse's ass all day long. All that work and you barely keep yourself fed, and God help you if it don't rain or there's too much rain or if there's locusts or a hell of a lot of other things, can leave you broke and hungry. My Daddy died when he was forty-two, and he looked like an old man when he died. I don't want to die like that. Hell, I don't even want to live like that!"
He was detemined, then. "So you really are going to go away?" I said.
"Yep, I am." Zach said. "If you can get the money together, you can come with me."
I shook my head. "Pa needs me on the farm. I couldn't take off and just leave him like that. Like you'd have to leave your Ma." There, I'd said it.
"Ma can go live with Ada or Elvira." Zach said. "Both of them would love to have her, and she could take care of her grandbabies and talk all day long. She'd be happier there than she is here, all alone in that house all day while I'm out in the fields busting my hide to make a crop out of the dirt. I been eating dirt behind a plow ever since I can remember. I want to see what else there is out there." He paused. "You could come with me."
"What would I do in Paree?" I said. "Ain't nothing there for me that I want. Bunch of fancy buildings and fancy people. They'd just look at you and me and laugh at the two hicks. Then they'd come up with a way to steal all our money from us, and we'd be broke and across an ocean from our home."
I looked at Zach and his face was yearning something terrible. "It wouldn't have to be like that." He said. "You and me could look after each other over there. And even if something did happen, we could work something out together. I don't want to go over there all by my ownsome. But if I have to, that's what I'll do."
I saw that he was determined. "Well..." I said. "I reckon if you go over there, I could come by and take care of your animals for you, so your Ma wouldn't be stuck with all the work. Pa's been talking of taking on a hired hand anyhow, to help us out. He could get one a bit earlier than he planned, is all."
"You'd do that?" Zach asked me. His face lit up. "You'd do that for me? If Ma isn't going to have to pay for someone to watch the place, I could go to Paris right now, I got enough to get there and stay for three or four months, anyhow."
"Sure." I said. "What are friends for? You go to Paris and take a good long look at it. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for over there and can write to me now and then and tell me about it."
"Thanks, Adam." Zach said, and put his hand on my shoulder. "You're the best friend I ever had."
"That just leaves one problem left." I said. "How lonesome I'm going to be until you come back. If you ever do."
"Come with me." Zach offered again. This time, his voice was as soft as a kiss.
"Stay with me." I countered. My own voice was only a whisper.
"I can't."
"And I can't go."
"So what can we do?" Zach's voice was barely audible. I wouldn't have heard him if I hadn't been right up next to him, barely two inches separated our faces.
"Just be my friend." I said to him.
"Always." Zach promised.
I'm not sure who reached for who, I just know that we were kissing, then. I know it was me who scooted over to press our bodies together, lying on the ground like we were, the grass (lush and green here by the river, at least) slick under me as I moving up against him, and his arms came around me. We knew each other so well, so completely, a lifetime together, that it just felt so right, even though we had never done it together, even as children, now it was exactly what we both needed just then.
My hands were trembling as I slid them over his arms, feeling those magnificently broad shoulders, moving over them to the rippling back, his strength was within my grasp, and I felt him take a shuddering breath as he released my lips and pressed his chin into my collar-bone.
"Oh, God, Adam!" Zach gasped. "I can't bear it, not having you with me. It's going to be so lonesome out there without you."
"It's all right." I soothed him. "Anytime you come back, I'll be here. I've always been here."
"I know." Zach said. "You're the only thing making me want to stay."
"Let's not talk about that." I said. "Let's share this afternoon. You and me. Best friends."
"Best friends." he said and this time he didn't hold me as much as he possessed me. I was pulled up against his massive chest and he thrust his lower body at me, and I felt the hard rod of his manhood pulsing there against my leg. Zach groaned and he rubbed himself upon my leg like that, by a twist I was able to push my own organ up against his stomach and now we were both rubbing and moaning like a couple of tomcats that smelled a puss in heat, oh-oh-oooh-oh!
I fumbled with the latch of Zach's overalls, if I could get them unlatched, I could dig into the shirt underneath, I could touch him, I could touch his body without the clothes! I had to do it, I had to!
With a click, the first one came undone, and then the other, low down and hard to reach, succumbed even easier to my touch. I was pulling the bib down and that shirt under taunted me, a second line of defense, laughing at my efforts.
With a sound that was almost a snarl, I rolled Zach over onto his back and me on top and now I sat straddle of him and that freed my hands to work the buttons upon his prostrate body, the shirt flew apart and I had it opened. Now, God, now! His skin was a sleekly shining brown mass of muscle, that danced as I ran my fingers upon them, for Zach moved in languid, sensuous, writhing motions, squirming under me, and then his cock was pressed against my body and he was grunting and worming it up against me again.
I skinned Zach like we'd skin those squirrels if we was to catch them, with the centerline open, it was a matter of peeling back the rest to display the softness beneath, and Zach sat up and I shucked the shirt off of him, only his wrists and hands were trapped, then a pair of tugs released them entirely. Now Zach was bare to nearly the waist.
I wanted to keep undressing him, but the clothes wouldn't let me, it was too awkward, with the shoes and the metal buttons on the overalls on the sides and all. I broke away, gasping, "Let's get out of these clothes, hell!"
I fought my own clothes off in a hurry, and when I was at last bare-naked as the day I was born, I turned and saw Zach standing before me, in all his natural glory, and I was struck by the way he resembled a Greek god standing in a glen over there in Europe or wherever Greeks lived (my geography was weak, though I remembered those pictures in the books with the Greek myths in them), and I said, "God damn, Zach, it's no wonder you want to go over there. You belong there. Me, I'm just a clod-buster like my father, and never will be nothing else. But you...." I didn't have the words. Everything those classical artists tried to paint or to sculpt or to write, it was here, before me now, looking at Zach naked in this pastoral setting.
Zach smiled the benevolent smile of an amorous deity on the make. His arms stretched out and beckoned me, and something of the rowdy country boy caught me then and I whooped and I dove for him rather than the sedate embrace of a romance novel.
But Zach just laughed as I took him down, us two naked young men in a shaded glen near a river, it would have made that Bullfinch guy wipe a tear from his eye to see us wrestling about in our good-natured way. I bet those Greeks had looked much the same as us, way back whenever it was that they were killing snake-haired women and riding feathered horses.
We ended up kissing again, and this time Zach's cock was unencumbered and it burned against one of my thighs, and I felt it seeping stickiness all over me; I couldn't protest, for mine was doing much the same into his hairs just below his navel. "Aw, hell, Zach, let's quit whizzing on each other and get to it." Zach sighed. "We got to make this good enough to last me while I'm over in Paris. I don't know when I'll get a chance to come back if I end up staying over there."
I didn't want to talk about it all of a sudden, even though without the ghost of Paris hanging over us, we would never have been doing this. But I reached down and grabbed hold of his cock and I said, "Sounds good to me. I heard tell Mary Sue can take a man's dick in her mouth and make him scream in no time. I reckon that's the best way for you and me to make this happen." It must sound naive, me saying and thinking that, admitting that I had little understanding of how two men can make love. But remember where I had grown up; how I had thought little on this before I ended up kissing Zach; I was eager to begin but had only this tiny store of knowledge to tell me how. Zach was little wiser, I think, otherwise, I would have learned it from talking to him.
As it was, Zach grunted his agreement and he pivoted over us so that we ended up nose-to-tail to each other, and he dangled that huge pud of his over my face and I felt his tongue gingerly kiss my glans as he considered how to best proceed.
No such daintiness was available for me, I pulled his hard rod over to my mouth and when it went in, it went in all the way, I could only suck on it like a peppermint stick from the grocery store. Zach moaned and he took mine down the same way.
In a joy of discovery, Zach and I learned how to please each other then, I'd do something to him and he'd do it to me, and we soon found that the best thing to do was to grip the other's pud in our lips tight, and then bob our heads like crazy. Zach doing that for me was heaven on earth and I think he liked it, too. Zach's mouth kept a sizeable suction on me and that felt so damned great I tried to do it for him as well, with lesser success, though Zach's groans of appreciation were sincere.
We weren't in any hurry, we had the entire rest of the day, we wouldn't be expected back home until near sundown and that was hours away still. We heard voices from others on the river, but they were all far off, barely identifiable as human sounds, nothing that dared impinge upon our blissful exploration of each other's bodies. I knew enough about sex to know that once we were done, it was odds against being able to do it again that same day, and then after that...Zach would be gone. It made me want to stretch it out, even though the joy raced through my body now in a ceaseless, eternal wave, even though my balls were tight against my shaft and my dick was pulsing almost angrily as Zach wove his magical touch upon it. This was all I was going to get, no, let it go on and on, let it last more, let the joy take me and let my heart burst from holding it within, but don't let it go, don't let it go!
And climax, when it came, it came like a robber, slipping up on me even though I was fending it off, it struck me like a man hitting me with a cosh, I felt my body surging up into orgasm and I groaned, no, no, not now, not now, not ever, never, no, not now, no!
"No-oh-oh-OHH-OHHHH!" I gasped as I exploded up into Zach's mouth and he sputtered, coughed, surprised by the raw volume of it, for I felt my cock awash in my jism within his mouth, and yet still more came out.
Then, suddenly, Zach was in control and he was sucking, he was drinking me down, his throat throbbed with his swallowing and each swallow took down a huge load of my jizz, and I finished my climax and was wrung out, completely out and I could only feebly take Zach's throbbing dong back into my mouth and try to give him the attention he deserved once again.
Yet I guess Zach had been waiting for me, for when I started on him again, he was soon bursting out with his grunts, and his sobs, "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, GOD, OH, YEAH, OH, ADAM, OH, GOD, OHGOOD, OOOOOOOH!" And my mouth was drenched with his spunk.
I had the mercy of foreknowledge, I knew he would cream in my mouth and I had decided what to do, when he burst out into my mouth, I immediately began to siphon him down, his cock was a straw holding his magnificent nectar, I swallowed it like so much sweet honey and it filled and warmed me all the way through, and I knew then that Zach and I had shared a bond that could never be broken, not by time, not by distance, not ever. This was ours, now, completely!
Zach sagged down and landed on the ground beside me with a "whoof!" and a chuckle of raw happiness. I spun around on my left buttock and got my face up next to his where it belonged, and I looked at his angelic face, the kind they would carve on those town halls of theirs over in Europe, the kind they would put on statues of heroes, the kind they would immortalize in a way I never could.
So I reached down and cupped his cheek with my palm and I said, "So you're leaving tomorrow?"
"That or the day after." Zach said. "I've been waiting so long, I can't see no reason to wait any more. I should have just cut out right after Dad died, and I could have sold all the cattle and handed Mom some of the money and...."
"I know, I know." I said.
"Maybe that's what I should do now, anyhow." Zach said, and his eyes now turned far away, towards Europe, towards Paris, towards those lights that gleamed in orderly rows upon their boulevards on postcards they sold to us on the other side of the world. Zach would go and live among those lights.
"Whatever you want to do," I said, "is fine with me. Just let me know when you're leaving, so I can set it up with Pa to come over and feed your stock."
"Hey, I got a fish!" Zach said and he jumped to his feet and caught his pole, which was still erect, though leaning over precariously. He grabbed it and reeled in the fish, a nice, large one, and he laughed as he moved to land the fish, his naked body in delightful harmony with nature, looking to me to share in his joy.
Seeing that, I felt serene all of a sudden. Zach might belong over there in Paris, just like he'd always dreamed. But a part of him also belonged here, on this river, with me, and that was something Paris could never take away from me. Zach would return here, maybe for good, maybe only for visits, but Paris would have to share Zach with me from now on.
THE END
Comments, complaints or suggestions?
E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM