Porterville

This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.

This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.

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Mark Stevens

CHAPTER SEVEN

When Britt left the house early the next morning, his first stop was at the local jewelry store to see the owner, George Carson. He discovered the jeweler behind the counter working on a rather ancient looking brooch. The man greeted Britt by name.

"Good morning, Britt. I heard you were back in town visiting your mama."

"Morning, George. How have you been?"

"Oh, can't complain I guess. Sides wouldn't do me any good. Can I help you with something?"

"Hope so," Britt answered. He pulled a small bag from his pocket that contained the diamond he had found the day before and handed it to George. "Is this for real?"

George took the bag from Britt. He opened it up and dumped the object on the counter in front of him. "Right off the top of my head I would say it's very real," he said thoughtfully. He examined the stone closer by looking at it with the aid of an outer lens. A moment later he pushed the eye piece to the side. Looking up he said, "It's real all right. Does it belong to your mother?"

"Now George, you've known my mother for many years. Have you ever known her to own anything like this?"

"Can't say that I have," George agreed. "Where did you run across it?"

For some reason Britt felt uneasy telling the man where he had found the diamond. He said, "I was out walking and saw it along the street in front of my mother's house. The reflection from the sun caught my attention." Britt looked closely at the old jeweler. "Does it look familiar to you, George? Have you ever seen it before?"

George Carson slowly shook his head. "Can't say I have," he answered. "If you like, I can keep it here and see if anyone inquires about it."

Britt was inclined to agree with the jeweler at first. Then something tapped his brain, causing him to have second thoughts. Aloud he said, "I think I'll ask around town myself. I'm sure who ever lost a rock this size will certainly search for it. I know I would."

George reluctantly placed the stone back in the bag and handed it to Britt. "Whatever you think," he said. "If anyone comes in asking about it, I'll send them to you."

"Thanks, George. By the way, can you give me an estimate on the value of this diamond?"

"Right off the top of my head, I would think several thousand dollars. Might even go as far as to say ten thousand, he added."

"Wow, surely whoever lost it will ask around town."

"Like I said, if anyone does, I'll send them to you."

"Thanks again, George, I would appreciate it. Nice seeing you again."

As Britt was leaving the jewelry store, he decided his next stop would be to check on Alice Cooper. Regardless of what she believed, he still blamed himself for her mother's accident.

At the Cooper home, he discovered the neighbor lady still with Alice, along with a couple of other ladies from Alice's church. All things considering, Britt thought she was holding up very well and told her so.

"It's hard, Britt, it really is. Especially now that most of my family is gone. However, I know I have many wonderful friends, so I know I'll be all right. As for mother, yes, I'm going to miss her. She was getting a little more confused each day, and each time it happened she would become so frustrated and panicky. She would become almost fearful at times, and I was beginning to worry about her while I was at work."

"I guess you saw things I didn't see," Britt replied. "Of course, I was only with her an hour or so yesterday, and you were with her every day. I'm sure you saw the real picture." Inwardly Britt thought, if she gets comfort thinking her mother is better off now, then so be it. Whatever it took to get her through this, he decided.

As he was leaving, Alice said, "Britt, Mother's service is going to be in the morning at ten o'clock. At the United Methodist Church," she added. "I called Sam just before you arrived and gave him the information. He's going to put it in this afternoon's paper."

"All right," Britt said. "I'll let my mother know. She attends that church, and has all of her life."

"I see her every Sunday," Alice reminded with a smile.

It was after ten when Britt left Alice Cooper's home and drove to the Beacon. He hurried inside and called, "Sam, you here?"

Sam Taylor stuck his head out of the print room. "I'm here. How's Alice doing?"

"Surprisingly well," Britt admitted. "Her mother's service is going to be in the morning at the Methodist church. At ten o'clock," he added.

"Already have it in the paper," Sam assured him. "Did it the moment Alice called."

Britt went to the back room, which he considered his office now, and immediately became lost in Porterville's past. Although he read a lot, and most of it was interesting, he found nothing that would interest the general public.

At two, he closed the computer down and bid Sam good afternoon.

Sam had finished his evening edition of the Beacon and was in the process of getting it ready for his delivery people. He looked up as Britt came into the outer office and asked, "You going to Margaret's service tomorrow?"

The question took Britt by surprise. For some reason, the thought hadn't crossed his mind. "I hadn't given it any thought," he answered.

"Maybe you should," Sam told him. "I'm sure Alice would appreciate it."

"You might be right, Sam. Guess I've had so damn much stuff going through my mind. Now that you mention it, I think I will go."

"I'm sure your mama will be there," Sam went on.

Britt nodded. "I'm sure you're right. Perhaps I'll go with her."

"That would be nice. Bye, Britt."

"Later, Sam."

Britt drove to his mother's home. He hurried inside the house and called, "Mom, you here?"

"In the kitchen," she answered.

Britt joined her. "Mom, Margaret Cooper's service is going to be in the morning at your church. At ten o'clock,"

"I thought it would be," she said remarked. "I just wasn't sure when."

"I thought if you didn't mind, I'd go with you."

Catherine Williams smiled. "I would like that very much, Britt."

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

It was late Friday night when Devon, with Britt's assistance, had every box unpacked and the contents put away. The movers had finished placing the furniture in the apartment hours ago. They looked around them and were satisfied with Devon's new home.

Britt took a deep breath. "I think you're really going to enjoy living here, Devon. It has a homey touch."

Devon nodded. "I think you're right. It feels like home to me already." He placed a hand on Britt's shoulder. "Especially with you here."

Britt went into Devon's arms. "Welcome to your new home." He pulled Devon tightly to him and their lips met.

Devon stepped away and gave Britt a grin. "Say, how about checking the whirlpool out? I'm sure every muscle in your body is aching."

"Now that you mention it," Britt agreed with a smile. "Especially one muscle in particular," he added.

Devon reached down and touched him. "Then let's get into the tub and see if we can take care of that ache."

In no time at all the tub was filled, the jets flowing, and the two men were sitting naked in the water. The moving current of the water did indeed feel good to them both. Even with the movers doing all the heavy lifting, a lot had been left for the two of them to take care of, and now they were grateful for the warm, soothing water as it massaged their bodies.

Later they lay naked on Devon's bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Both were quiet, both caught up with emotion and the moment.

Finally Devon broke the silence. "Britt?"

"Yeah." Britt turned and faced him.

"I'm so damned glad you came back to Porterville."

"Me, too, Britt smiled. "Me, too," he repeated.

"Britt?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

Devon said, "Nothing. Wasn't important," he added.

Britt sat up and looked at him sharply. "Everything you say is important to me. Let's hear it!"

"Well, I am so glad I found you, but..."

When he didn't continue, Britt said, "But?"

"Well, who knows how long you're going to remain here in Porterville, and to be honest with you, I don't know how I'm going to handle you leaving."

Britt was silent for a moment, allowing his words form in his mind. Finally he said, "Well, first of all, I am here. Second, there is no set time for me to leave. I will not be leaving town as long as there is a chance that I might come up with a suitable plot." Britt paused for a moment, and then added, "And, last, and most importantly, you have become a big part of my life, and I will not lose contact with you. Yes, there may be a few miles between us, but my God, Dev, Oklahoma City is what, a hundred and fifty miles away?"

"I know," Devon nodded. "I just hate the thought of you leaving. You are becoming too important to me."

"Well, for now, I am here, and I'm not going any where. That's the beauty of my job. If I don't work, I don't get paid; however, I can work just about any where I choose."

Devon looked around the room. "Even here?" he asked.

"Even here," Britt smiled. "Any place I can plug my laptop in."

"Good! Consider this your new office."

In a half teasing half serious tone, Britt asked, "Devon McKenzie, are you asking me to move in with you?"

Devon was silent for a moment. Finally he said, "I guess I am at that."

A feeling of tenderness spread through Britt's body. He reached over and kissed Devon gently on the mouth. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

When Britt seemed hesitant, Devon asked, "Do I detect a `but' here?"

Britt shook his head and said, "I'm not sure. I don't think it's exactly a `but' I am feeling. The feelings I'm experiencing with you are the kind I promised myself I would never have again."

"You think I'll hurt you the way Bruce did?"

"Of course I don't, Dev. You must believe that. To be honest, I've fallen for you like a ton of bricks."

"Yet you are hesitant to move in with me?"

"Not really. Let's look at it this way, okay? First of all, my mom is enjoying having me back home. God knows I don't get back to see her nearly as often as I should. I am going to work on that. And there's another factor here as well. I don't want to make it any more difficult for you than I already have. You know your parents can't stand the sight of me."

"To hell with my parents!" Devon exclaimed.

"We both know they can't stand me, especially your mother, and for now, I don't want to cause any problems for you. For anyone," he finished.

"Anyone?"

"Anyone," Britt repeated. Then trying to lighten up the mood that had suddenly become very heavy, he grinned and said, "However, if I were invited, I think an overnighter would be nice for starters. What you think? Could that be arranged?"

Devon's mood changed instantly, and he answered, "I think that would be perfect. So, how about starting tonight?"

Britt shook his head. "I really need to get home. What there is left of it," he added, looking at his watch. "I'm going with Mom in the morning to Margaret Cooper's service. It's at ten o'clock. You have anything planned for tomorrow afternoon?"

"Just seeing you."

"That's perfect. I've been working hard this week, and lots of things have been going on, so I think I'll take tomorrow off."

Even though Britt opted not to spend the night with Devon, it was very late when he left the apartment. He was did his best not to wake his mother as we walked down the hall to his bedroom.

He stripped out of his clothes and crawled between the covers, enjoying the feel of the sheets against his naked flesh. His mind was crowded with a lot of jumbled thoughts. Britt intended to sort through them, but he made the mistake of closing his eyes for a moment. His body, over come with exhaustion, forced his mind to shut down, and he was aware of nothing else until the sun wakened him a few hours later.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Britt was up early the next morning. He showered and joined his mother in the kitchen. He took the cup of coffee she offered and sat down at the kitchen table. "Morning, Mom," he greeted.

"Good morning. Sleep well?"

"Like a top." He took a sip of his coffee and asked, "So Mom, what time do we need to leave for the service?"

"I would think around nine-thirty. Margaret has lived in Porterville all her life. The church is sure to be full."

Britt took another swallow from his cup. "I'll be ready then."

The two of them continued to talk over their coffee. Britt refused the breakfast his mother offered to prepare, and instead, settled for toast. "I'm just not a breakfast type person, Mom."

"Well, you should be," she told him. "After all, it's the most important meal of the day. Start's you out right," she ended.

Britt laughed. "Spoken like the true mom you are."

"Are you poking fun at me?" Her eyes twinkled as she asked the question.

"Me? Poking fun at you? My sweet mother? Never, I say. Never," he ended with a grin.

Britt finished his coffee and toast and headed for his room to dress for funeral service. As he selected a dress shirt and a pair of slacks, he thought about the last time he had been in Porterville's Methodist church. It had been at his own father's service. The thought made him sad. Sad, because he knew he should come home more often to see his mother. His dad was already gone, and his mother wasn't getting any younger. As he finished with his tie, he looked in the mirror to make sure it was straight. Then he left the room, with a promise to himself that he would take better care of his mother and would come home to see her more often.

As Britt walked inside the church some time later looked around. As he remembered it, nothing had changed. It looked the same as always. Even as a boy growing up, he remembered it being the same. He took a deep breath. Even the air was the same, with the exception of the flowers that had been placed at the front of the sanctuary. Today they added a sweet fragrance to the church building.

He followed his mother down the isle and slipped in the pew beside her. He looked carefully around the large auditorium and decided and decided he was glad nothing had changed over the years. Britt was young and enjoyed change now and then. However some things didn't need to change. He felt the church was one of those things.

He began to study the people as they came to honor Margaret Cooper one last time. Most of them he knew, but a few, he did not. Suddenly he was startled to discover John and Elaine McKenzie walking down the isle. They turned into an empty pew and as they were seated, Britt noticed the "reserved" sign on the back of the pew. A sudden feeling of something kin to anger flowed through his body. Were the McKenzie's so powerful, even in church, as to be able to reserve their own special pew?

Britt turned and nudged his mother. She followed his look and smiled. "Margaret was well liked, well thought of by the entire town," she whispered.

Britt wasn't sure he agreed with her, but he didn't respond back to his mother. For some reason he thought Elaine McKenzie never did anything without a reason, and certainly she wouldn't come to the funeral service of one of the least social standing citizens of Porterville. That would not be like her at all.

Britt's thoughts were left unfinished as Larry Owens, the minister of the church, stood and asked everyone to stand in honor of the Cooper family. As he stood to his feet, he was shocked to discover the Cooper family was comprised of Alice and two older women that looked enough like Margaret; they had to be her sisters. Britt's heart went out to Alice. How awful it must be to have such a small family. Then he thought about his own family. They were the same way. Britt knew of a handful of cousins that lived far away in another state, and other than that, he didn't know of any more family. Both of his parents had been only children, the same as him.

Alice and her aunts took their places on the family pew, and the people in the church took their seats once more. Larry Owens addressed, first the family, then the rest of the crowd, and for the next little bit, Britt listened to how well thought of Margaret had been in the community. He listened to the historic facts dealing with her life, her birth, marriage, family, and finally death. Then a song was sung in her memory. He continued to listen as after the song, the minister stood once more and tried to send some words of encouragement out to Alice. After that, Britt could remember nothing else. He had become sad inside, and tried to think of only happy thoughts until he left the church.

When the service was over, he followed his mother up the isle to the front entry of the church. There they found the casket with Margaret Cooper's body, open for viewing. As they walked along beside it, Britt looked down. Margaret looked so peaceful, he thought. Much as she had the first time he had visited with her. Still, as he stood looking down at her, he couldn't help but think something was not right about all this, about her death. Perhaps even the way she died. Something kept nagging at him, but for the life of him, he couldn't think what it could be.

Britt followed his mother out the door, where they stood with others, showing their respect for the Cooper family. As they stood waiting, he saw the McKenzie's walking out the door of the church. When they reached Britt and his mother, Elaine McKenzie spoke to Catherine.

"How are you, Catherine?" she greeted. Not waiting for a response, she gave Britt a curt nod. "Mr. Williams." Instead of waiting for a reply, she walked beside her husband to the back of the crowd.

Later, as they got into their car, Britt remarked, "Was that a cool greeting or what?" he asked his mother.

"That's just Elaine McKenzie," Catherine Williams remarked. "She's always been that way, and she's not going to change now."

"I can understand why she doesn't care for me," Brit admitted. "I may have stepped on her toes. You, however, have done nothing to her."

"Like I said, that's the way she is," his mother repeated.

"Mom, why the hell do you defend her the way you do?"

Catherine Williams looked at her son, surprise showing on her face. "Britt Williams, that is no way to talk, right here in the church yard!"

Britt grinned at his mother. "Now, Mom-----,"

Whatever else Britt had intended to say, he didn't finish his thoughts. His mother interrupted him, saying, "Don't you `now Mom' me", she admonished. Then her tone changed and she added, "Besides, if anybody treats you disrespectfully, they have me to answer to. Doesn't matter who they are," she finished.

"I love you, Mom," Britt said quietly.

Britt drove them home. It was Saturday afternoon, and he had told Devon he would give him a call after the funeral. He pulled into the drive a short time later. It still amazed him that John and Elaine McKenzie had attended Margaret Cooper's service. He was sure if he asked them, they would point out that it was their duty to pay their respects to a long time citizen of Porterville. Which would be a crock of shit, he decided. Somehow, some way, he was going to discover the real reason for their appearance.

Britt followed his mother inside the house and heard her take a deep breath. "Oh, my good Lord, what has happened?"

Britt looked around the living room and was shocked by the sight that met his eyes. Books had been pulled from the bookcase and were scattered all over the room. Not a book was left on any of the shelves. Ever drawer in the living room had been pulled out and their contents dumped on the floor.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed.

He hurried to the dining room and discovered nothing out of place there. He went to the kitchen. It, too, seemed in perfect order, just the way his mother had left it after breakfast.

Britt hurried down the hall to his mother's room. Nothing was out of place there either. It was neat and orderly, just the way she always kept it. He hurried across the hall to his own room. Not so there. The mattress was up against the wall and the sheets and covers were piled on the floor beside it. All of the drawers in the dresser were pulled out, and his things were scattered all over the room. The cedar chest at the foot of the bed was opened, and all of his mother's keepsakes and treasures had been tossed out as well. Whatever had hit the house, whoever the intruder had been, Britt's room had been hit the hardest. There wasn't an item remaining in its usual place.

"Who would do a thing such a thing?" his mother asked as her face turned white as a sheet.

"Mom, don't touch a thing," he said as he headed down the hall. "I'm calling the police."