Psychic Detective 20 By Jake Preston
This is a work of erotic gay fiction, intended for readers who enjoy a murder mystery in which fully developed characters interact sexually and in other ways. Their sexual encounters are sometimes romantic, sometimes recreational, sometimes spiritual, and almost always described explicitly. My attention is equally divided between narrative, character development, and sex scenes. If you don't care for this combination, there are many other excellent "nifty" stories to choose from. And remember that while nifty stories are free, maintaining a website is not. Please think about donating at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
Writing is usually a solitary avocation, but not necessarily so on nifty.org, where a longer story appears in installments. If my characters and my story grab your attention, you can always intervene with suggestions for improvements. All sincere comments will get a response!
Jake, at jemtling@gmail.com
Chapter 21 Jack and Calvin in Ashawa
"I can't believe you told my Dad that I fuck you!" Calvin exclaimed.
"He needed to know," Jack relied. "At first he didn't believe me. Then he did. It made all the difference."
"Knowing this made him happy?" Calvin wondered.
"It made him relieved," Jack said. "When you're dealing with straight men who love you, like a father or maybe an uncle, you have to be sensitive to their feelings. Straight men think tops are masculine and bottoms are feminine. I saw a chance to ease your Dad's mind without telling a lie."
It was late Monday morning. Jack and Calvin settled into a two-bedroom cabin on Wayward Island Resort. "Göran said this is his favorite cabin, because the door opens out to the dock. It's as close as you can get to the water without floating in the bay."
They looked out on the water. It started raining. "That must be Wayward Island," Calvin said. "Göran said it has three cabins. You can make out one of them, in the fog. He opened the front window to let in the sound of rain. The cry of loons echoes. "I love North Country sounds- a fish jumping in the water, the wind at night, rain, loons." After a roll of thunder, the loons cried again. "Loons looning, singularly human, like the hallowing of a man in a high key, having thrown his voice into his head," Calvin said.
"Looning," Jack said.
"Ducks quack, sparrows chirp, canaries tweet, loons loon," Calvin replied. "It's not in the dictionary, but it should be. Thoreau used it in The Maine Woods."
"About Göran," Jack said, "he told me that he has feelings for Jésus. He invited Jésus to come up for a few days if it's not too busy at Apollo's. He's coming tomorrow. He'll return to Superior on Thursday."
"Does that mean Göran's breaking up with you?" Calvin asked.
"'Breaking up' is too dramatic," Jack said. "We're being realistic. Göran's future is here, in St. Louis County. Mine is in South Dakota. We love each other, but we were never exclusive. We always knew that our relationship was fated to be temporary. He wants me to explore my feelings for you while we've still got a chance."
"Does that mean we've got a chance?" Calvin asked.
"That's up to you, CC," Jack said.
"You take my breath away, Jack," Calvin said. "I thought our relation was... what's the right word... recreational, because you and Göran were an item."
"You'd have to think in terms of moving to South Dakota," Jack said. "Don't answer yet. Just think about it."
They kissed.
"There's a reason why we've got a cabin with two bedrooms," Jack said. "I invited your parents. If they come, they'll have a place to stay."
"I suppose this means I won't get to fuck Göran," Calvin laughed.
"Spoken like a true top, it's one of the things I like about you, CC," Jack said. "You still might get a crack at Göran. He told me that we've got a date with him and Red Hawk, at Jake Preston's cabin on the point. It's on the other side of the island. You can't see it from here. I've never met Red Hawk, of course, but Göran tells me he's a lot like you."
Monday morning, the loggers found two patrol cars abandoned on Five Mile Road, a mile from each other. When Göran and Jack drove to the site at noon, Jack insisted on taking Calvin with them. "I want CC by my side at all times because of the danger," he said. Fingerprints later disclosed that the first car was driven by the Sergeant, and the second by Deputy Nelson.
"Coleman and Brad Nails-if that's his name- are preparing another sacrifice," Göran said. "They've got Nelson and the Sergeant, and the percussionist who disappeared from Apollo's. They're on the hunt for two more victims."
"Unless they decide that three is enough," Jack said.
"Maybe," Göran said, but the look on his face was skeptical. "It's supposed to rain all week. They've got the weather on their side. People won't see them moving in the rain and the fog."
"How do you know they've got Craig Clark?" Calvin asked, referring to the percussionist.
"It's his psychic intuition," Jack said. "I believe him.
Monday evening- Dmitri, David, and Redman slept three-in-a-bed with Redman in the middle at Ben Hasek's home in Hibbing. Göran moved them to Hibbing for their own safety. Redman insisted that he was straight, but he declined when Ben Hasek offered the use of a second spare bedroom. Dmitri and David teased him with gropes and kisses in his pits, on his nips, in the navel. He didn't protest when they sucked his cock and his scrotum. With one male beauty on each side, how could he refuse? Erections and scrota were fondled all around. Dmitri whispered something in David's ear, and David said "Nah, he'll never go for that!" Redman asked what.
"Dmitri said he'll kiss your butt if you kiss him back," David said. "Do it and you can fuck both of us." Redman sprawled facedown and arched while Dmitri nosed his cleft. Afterward, Dmitri and David got side by side on all fours. The spectacle of two sightly asses brought lust to Redman. He kissed each butt briefly and said it was the best a straight man could do. "Ah, come on, Redman, you can do better than that," David protested. Redman rimmed reluctantly, and was rewarded with access to two arched asses. He penetrated Dmitri first, then David.
Neither Dmitri nor David fancied sex with a straight guy-a common gay fantasy- but they didn't believe that Redman was as straight as he claimed to be. They liked the novelty, too. In doggie-position side by side, they kissed and rubbed shoulders or arms, while Redman switched between them like a buff-bellied hummingbird beak-bombing the crowning whorls of Fructose and Glucose. They semi-embraced when Redman flattened them face-down and alternated between them until his lust was satisfied.
Back at Wayward Bay, Göran led Jack and Calvin down the path along the lakeshore from the lodge to Jake Preston's cabin. Red Hawk met them on the path, vested in deerskin beaded with Ojibwe symbols, and plain deerskin trousers that complimented his figure. For the occasion, he sported a headband with a single reddish-brown hawk feather.
"Instead of viagra, we've got Cialis. It lasts longer. It's the price of admission," Red Hawk said when they entered the kitchen. He distributed the pills, and took one himself. "Never mind about the whisky. I don't want anyone destabilized by booze in the sauna. We'll have whisky later, along with peyote chips." He gestured toward thick, crudely triangular chips piled in a tray on the kitchen counter.
"We're having a peyote ritual?" Jack asked. He glanced at the ceremonial carpet in front of the fireplace, ornamented with geometrical symbols of four directions, wigwams and canoes, hunting scenes, war and peace. The carpet shimmered in firelight.
"A peyote ritual, yes, the shaman will be here soon, to make everything legal," Red Hawk replied. He led Jack by the hand to the fireplace, to view the carpet symbolism.
"That's south by the fire, north where I'm standing, Manitou whirling above Gitchee Gumee in northern skies, rivers and mountains, canoes, wigwams, and hunting scenes marking the lay of the land," Jack said. "But why does the Ojibwe scene stretch so far east of Gitchee Gumee, all the way east to the Atlantic Ocean?"
"See the little white scrolls at the eastern and western ends of the scene?" Red Hawk pointed to the design on the carpet. "They signify that the scene is historical. It traces the Anishinaabeg migration from the Atlantic westward to their present location in the lands around Lake Superior. Sixteenth century in the east, these symbols mean 'Waabanaking', Land of Dawn, the original homeland of the Anishinaabeg. Seventeenth century in the woodlands and plains west of the Cuyahoga River, eighteenth century in Wisconsin and eventually north into Ontario and Manitoba, and west into Minnesota. The Anishinaabeg were driven west by the Iroquois, who expanded their territory in order to profit from the fur trade. Here's our location, the Ashawa tribal band, and the Waabooz tribal band to the north around Crane Lake. The scene is disproportionate geographically, because it's not a map; it's a migration history."
"Let me guess," Jack said, pointing to tomahawks and archery in the western side of the carpet: "Here's where my people fought against yours, until the 1870s or so."
"Very good, Jack," Red Hawk said. He put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "It's true, until the 1870s and 80s, the Lakota and the Anishinaabeg were traditional enemies. More specifically, the Ojibwe and the Oglala Sioux were traditional enemies- my tribe and your tribe, Jack. I've searched the birch-bark scrolls for evidence of a formal peace treaty. So far as I can tell, our tribes never passed the peace-pipe. Technically, we're still at war, but we're here to make love." Red Hawk swatted Jack on the rump and laughed.
"I have an idea about that," Jack said. "We could arrange for a calumet ceremony at the next Sumer Solstice Powwow. The Lakota elders would love it! The other clans in North and South Dakota, too."
"Dark Eagle will approve," Red Hawk said.
"What happened in the 1870s and 80s was westward migration of American settlers into Lakota territory. The Lakota entered into a sequence of treaties- more than thirty treaties with the Americans, but the settlers violated every last one of them. The Lakota continued fighting, but the settlers and the U.S. Cavalry were their new enemies. It was the settlers who violated the treaties, but the U.S. Government was forced to support them against us. For the Americans, peace treaties were just another instrument of war. In the meantime, the old conflicts between Oglala and Ojibwe were moot," Jack said. "How strange that this story is never told in history classes, not in high school, not even in college."
"You're right about that, Jack," Red Hawk said. "As a result, for Americans and even for Indians, the Indian Wars are not-knowledge, except in Hollywood movies, which are mainly fiction. The contrast between Lakota and Anishinaabeg is lost- the Lakota continued fighting for their lost land, while the Anishinaabeg depended on treaties. They lost land, too, especially in Canada, but they didn't lose as much land as the Lakota. The Anishinaabeg fought on the side of the French during the French and Indian War. After that, they sided with the British in Canada, and kept to themselves in the U.S. After the Civil War, they stayed out of the Indian Wars."
"The Lakota were valiant warriors, and won many battles against the Cavalry," Jack said. "But their cause was doomed, because they never understood the impact of the Civil War."
"How's that?"- Calvin joined in the dialogue.
"Because after 1865, most of the American settlers- they were called 'movers', not 'pioneers'- they were Civil War veterans, trained and experienced in war," Jack replied. "And when the Atlantic-Pacific Railroad came through in the 1870s, the settlers and the Cavalry had ready access to munitions, which could be shipped by rail to Missouri and then sent north on cavalry wagons. I wrote a paper about this, for an American History course at Emory."
"If we could get media attention for a peace-pipe ceremony at the Summer Solstice Powwow, it would be a chance to publicize this history," Red Hawk said. "The Ojibwe Monument is well known. That's a place to start."
"Ojibwe, Anishinaabeg, what's the difference?" Calvin asked Red Hawk. "Sometimes you use the words interchangeably, other times not." Calvin had followed the dialogue closely, and he had a good memory. Attention deficit disorder had never been one of his problems.
"Sometimes 'Anishinaabeg' is used as another name for the 'Ojibwe', at least in this part of the country," Red Hawk said. "That's the way William Krueger uses the words in Iron Lake and in his other North Country murder mysteries. But historically, 'Anishinaabeg' is the name for three tribal groups that have the same ancestry: the Ojibwe in Minnesota and western Canada, the Odawa in Kansas, and the Algonquin in eastern Canada. Their languages are similar- more like dialects. They trace their ancestry back to the Abenaki in New England and upstate New York. They call the Abenaki their 'Fathers.' Abenaki has almost no modern speakers- it's practically a dead language- but it's related to the Anishinaabeg dialects, so it's possible that the Anishinaabeg tribes originally were part of the Abenaki nation. That's the story we get from the wilgwaasabak- the birch-bark scrolls. To add to the ambiguity, 'Algonquin' has a double meaning, too. 'Algonquin' is the name of one of the three Anishinaabeg nations, but 'Algonquian' is a collective name that linguists give to the family of languages that includes Ojibwe, Odawa, Algonquin, and Abenaki."
"That's the sort of confusion that creeps in when we let someone else write our history," Jack said. "But the Indian nations have no cause to complain. If American anthropologists hadn't written it, no one else would have done. Instead of complaining, the best way to fix it is to start writing our own history."
"Amen!" Red Hawk exclaimed.
"The birch-bark scrolls, what you call wilgwaasabak, do they still exist?" Calvin asked.
"They do," Red Hawk said. "I've got some scrolls here." He opened a trunk and displayed them. He showed Calvin copies of his books, which included transcripts and translations of some of the scrolls.
Red Hawk invited Calvin to help him with the task of cutting balsam boughs for the sauna. He explained the routine- a warm-up in the sauna, a jump in the lake, then back to the sauna for a mutual massage with balsam boughs. Calvin cut the boughs, while Red Hawk collected them. "What you said about Ojibwe history- it sounds exciting to me," Calvin said. "I've been thinking about majoring in Philosophy, but maybe I should major in History instead, if I could get into Indian history."
"I've got some books I can give you, if that's what you want," Red Hawk said, and changed the subject: "Göran tells me that you and Jack are an item, and that you're new in the gay scene," Red Hawk said.
"It's the first time I've had a boyfriend, if that's what you mean by new," Calvin replied.
"Göran also said that Jack identifies as a top, but with you he's a bottom," Red Hawk said.
"He said that?"
"It wasn't idle gossip," Red Hawk replied. "Since we're planning to play as a foursome, it's good to know something about each other-at least the basics. For example, it's important to know you're a Twinkie Top."
"Twinkie Top?" Calvin wondered.
"Some guys would say 'androgynous' or 'epicene'," Red Hawk said, "but those words are too feminish. 'Twinkie tops' can include epicenes, but also masculine nerds, outside the limits of gay stereotypes."
Calvin looked dubious. He continued clipping balsam boughs and handing them to Red Hawk, who continued- "Do you know a novel by the Cuban writer Reinaldo Arenas, called The Color of Summer?"
"No."
"Well, it's a satirical novel about Fidel Castro, his persecution of gay men, how he tossed them in El Morro prison and in concentration camps, and how a gay man had to depend on his wits and ironic humor to survive. In one of the chapters in The Color of Summer, a cross-dresser named SuperChalo gives a lecture on the four categories of tops. First there's the Occasional Top who's a homophobic family man except on days when he's horny enough to hump a twink in the toilets or in a city park. Second is the Complexified Top- a guilt-ridden family man who can't control his impulse to fuck twinks on a regular basis. Third is the Natural Top who's a loud- mouth, scar-faced, tough, pugnacious bully, and can't seem to keep his hands off his crotch. Fourth is the Machobug who fucks other Tops but wouldn't dream of fucking a fairy. All four categories are macho hunks. Arenas doesn't allow for the possibility of Twinkie Tops. Is that because Cubans are so machismo-myopic that they think all tops are titans?"
"Possibly," Calvin said. "You have the advantage of me, since I haven't read Arenas, but shouldn't you allow for the possibility that these are Chelo's categories, and not Arenas's? The name is satirical: Chelo falls somewhere between cholo, a derogatory epithet for a half-breed, and chulo, a jester, a fool, or a rascal."
"Maybe you're right," Red Hawk mused. "The main point of Chelo's comical lecture is that macho Tops couldn't exist if it weren't for 'fairies'- that's his cover-term for bottom-boys, and he includes himself in that group. Even so, he omits Twinkie Tops- a fifth category- who can range anywhere from one to ten on the macho-scale, from androgynous fems to bantam pugilists."
"You could apply the same decade-scale to bottoms," Calvin said-"from feminish Ganymedes to body-building hunks. I'd rank Göran as a seven or an eight. He looks and acts like a top, and he can perform as a top when his partner wants him to, but when he has his druthers, he takes it up the ass."
"And Jack? Where would you rank Jack?" Red Hawk asked.
"On a scale from one to ten, he's a twelve," Calvin said. "At heart he's a top, but he'll bottom for the right guy."
"And the right guy isn't necessarily a stud," Red Hawk interjected."
"I'd say that for Jack, the right guy is never a stud," Calvin replied. "He fucks Göran, because Göran is bigger and stronger than him, though not by much. On the whole, Jack doesn't seem to like screwing with a guy who seems a mirror image of himself. Lucky for me, I'm not at all like him!"
"You haven't yet met Dmitri Zarvopoulos or David Gabrioli, have you?" Red Hawk said. "We've got them hidden in Hibbing, away from Deputy Nelson. Dmitri is a bit like Jack, and David's a bit like Göran, except that the differences between them are more subtle, since they're both Mediterranean types- a Greek and a Spanish Jew... Sephardic. David's a Sephardic Jew."
"That means he's a citizen of Spain, too, as of last February 7," Calvin said.
"Really? How can that be?" Red Hawk asked.
"The Cortes Generalis in Spain passed a law granting dual citizenship to all the descendants of Jews who were expelled by Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492-about three and a half million Jews. I'm an Akenazi Jew, so it doesn't apply to me," Calvin said.