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Information Paperboy
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 09:06 PM - Replies (1)

   



Shane didn't wear underwear. Danny knew that because they'd been in seventh-grade PE together the past semester. He'd made the discovery in the locker room one day when Shane pulled on his Levi's, carefully stowed his cock inside, and slowly fastened the buttons - except for the top one. Danny hadn't realized he'd been staring until he looked up past Shane's hard abs and chest and found the fourteen-year-old watching him, a knowing smile on his face.
 
"Got you hard, didn't I, buddy?"
 
Danny blushed and looked down at his four-inch woodie - and quickly pulled on his tighty-whiteys. Shane squeezed the younger boy's shoulder.
 
"It's okay, buddy."
 
Danny found his voice.
 
"Why don't you wear underpants?"
 
Shane reached inside his Levi's and adjusted his stiffening pole.
 
"Because it feels better without them." He winked. "And it's easier to get it out. Especially when it's hard."
 
Danny understood. For jacking off, of course, something that he'd only recently become aware of.
 
More than a year older than most of his classmates, Shane's September birthday had made him the oldest to start with, and then he'd been held back in the second grade. Where Danny and one or two of the others had a little fuzz between their legs, Shane had a full growth of pubic hair and the beginnings of a dusky treasure trail. Hair wasn't the only thing that had grown, and the other boys were secretly envious.
 
While not the brightest crayon in the box, Shane was easy-going and got along well with his classmates. Danny had taken notice of him early in the school year, and wanted to get to know him better, but, other than PE, they had no classes together. Outside of the school setting, Shane hung around with a couple of boys his age - paperboys he worked with.
 
But Danny made the most of PE - getting a locker close to Shane, going to the shower with him, and doing his best to be on the same team. He wasn't sure if Shane noticed his efforts, but the older boy was always friendly and called him buddy. Being Shane's buddy was important to Danny.
 
Danny had previously noted that Shane didn't towel himself completely dry after his shower, as opposed to Danny himself who fastidiously removed every drop of water. Shane's broad back was always wet when he pulled on his white muscle shirt. Although a minor thing, it spoke to Danny of the older boy's relaxed approach to life. Like not wearing a belt. And leaving a button unfastened. And going without underwear.
 
Danny left the locker room that day with a damp t-shirt. And when he got to his hallway locker, he took off his belt and hung it inside.
 
************
 
When he got home, Danny went to his room and stripped. Then he put on his JCPenney jeans and carefully zipped them up. He would have preferred button-up Levi's like Shane's, but his parent's could only afford the cheap imitation.
 
Shane was right - the denim felt good, especially against his suddenly-stiff cock. He stood in front of the full-length mirror and checked himself out. Blond, slender, and pale without his summer tan, he was a far cry from Shane's dark, muscular good looks. He needed something to be more like Shane.
 
Getting a pair of scissors from the bathroom, Danny cut the sleeves off one of his t-shirts, creating a makeshift muscle shirt. Putting it on, he stood in front of the mirror again. This was better. He flexed his biceps. Not too bad for a kid who was just short of thirteen.
 
Unzipping his jeans, Danny pulled out his boner, also a far cry from Shane's. He stroked it gently, and then spit on his hand and stroked it less gently. He smiled at his reflection. He was a stud - like Shane. He stroked a little harder. He'd jacked off a couple of times lying on his back, but this was how Shane would do it - watching himself in the mirror.
 
Engrossed in the process, Danny hadn't thought about the ending, which came quickly. With a gasp of surprise, his knees buckled and he pasted sperm against the mirror.
 
He quickly stuffed his shrinking cock into his jeans and carefully zipped them up. Slipping down the hallway into the bathroom, he wet a washcloth and returned to clean up the mess he'd made. He'd have to be more careful in the future. It wouldn't do for his mom to find dried jizz on his closet door mirror.
 
His mom would also wonder why there was no underwear in his laundry hamper, so he'd have to remember to put a clean pair in there every couple of days.
 
************
 
The newspaper shack stood on one corner of a large vacant lot, alone except for an aging sign proclaiming the property to be the future home of The Church of the Second Coming. It was a toss-up as to whether the shack or the sign, an optimistic token of unrealized expectations, was the most dilapidated.
 
The shack itself was the source of the daily news for about three hundred nearby homes. Deposited by a delivery van around five in the morning to five waiting teenagers, the newspapers would all be on doorsteps, or in steel delivery tubes, within an hour or so. Some would be delivered by bicycle, others on foot.
 
Danny had wanted to be a paperboy for as long as he could remember, and even more so once he found out Shane was. It was one of the few employment opportunities available to a thirteen-year-old, and he'd waited anxiously to be old enough. Tomorrow, the first Monday after school was out, his dream would come true. Shane was taking a new, longer route, so his old one had become available. He'd recommended Danny as his replacement, and The Tribune had authorized the change.
 
Danny's alarm clock went off at four-thirty. Dressing quickly, he went to the kitchen, filled a bowl with Wheaties and milk, and sat down at the table. Today there would be no time to re-read the information on the cereal box for the umpteenth time, but he did read the encouraging note his mom had left him: Good job, Danny. Have fun.
 
In the pale light and chill air of early dawn, Danny left the house with his new paper-carrying bag in place on his shoulders. He was glad he was starting in June rather than December - he could learn the route in the daylight.
 
Shane would be showing him the ropes, after which the two of them would also deliver the papers on Shane's new route. It would be an educational morning.
 
Arriving at the shack, he found the delivery van pulling away. Three older boys he knew only by sight leaned against the outside wall. The oldest of the three took a draw on his cigarette, exhaled, and looked at Danny with the cynical eye of imagined maturity.
 
"What are you doing here, kid?"
 
"I'm the new paperboy for route four."
 
"Bullshit, you gotta be thirteen."
 
"I am thirteen."
 
"Who do you think you're kidding? Get the fuck outta here."
 
Shane spoke from behind his replacement, quietly but firmly. "Shut up and don't give Danny any crap, Kent. He's taking over my route."
 
The bravado disappeared immediately - after a face-saving response, that is.
 
"No shit? Next thing you know, they'll be hiring first-graders."
 
Shane put his hand on Danny's shoulder.
 
"Danny, the loudmouth blockhead is Kent. He's fifteen, and he's been doing this the longest, has the most papers to deliver, and thinks he knows everything. The other two are my friends, Mateo and Scott. They're both fourteen and great guys. Now, we all oughta be folding papers."
 
Differentiating between Mateo and Scott was easy. Contrasting with Scott's blond buzz cut and blue eyes, Mateo's longer black hair, dark eyes, and light brown skin corresponded directly to the heritage suggested by his name. Beyond that, dressed in Keds, Levi's, and white t-shirts, they could well have been twins.
 
At an age where size and age often established the pecking order, Danny briefly wondered how it was that Shane commanded the respect of the oldest and most experienced carrier. There wasn't time to think about that, though.
 
As Danny entered the shack for the first time, he took stock of his surroundings, which were simple. The shack was about fifteen by twenty feet, the size of his parents' bedroom, with the door at the center of one end. Along one wall was a four-foot-wide, waist-high workbench. Five piles of papers sat on the bench, one for each route. A single bare light bulb in the center of the room was the only source of light, other than a small window above the workbench. At the far end of the bench, a king size mattress stood upright against the wall. Danny was curious.
 
"Why the mattress?"
 
Shane laughed. "The guy who had my route before me had a hard time getting up on weekends, so they gave him a key to the building and let him sleep here."
 
"Who else has a key?"
 
"Only the guy who brings the papers. Now, let me show you how to fold newspapers."
 
Besides folding the papers, there were lessons on how to get the most papers in the carrying bag and how to balance the front and back. There were also some plans for the day.
 
"I usually use my bicycle, but today we'll both walk. Our routes are short enough that we can get all of the papers in our bags. We'll deliver yours first. I wanna make sure you know the route, and that means more than just where the houses are."
 
In the course of the next hour, Danny learned who had delivery tubes, who wanted the paper through their mail slot, which dogs to watch out for, and who was hard to collect from. Then they had to speed up to get Shane's papers delivered on time.
 
They finished next to a neighborhood park and found a bench to relax on. Shane looked at Danny and smiled.
 
"You look beat."
 
"I am."
 
"It gets better. Tomorrow will be easier. You'll have to do your own fifty papers, but you won't have to walk as far. Don't forget to update your information when you get home, and to bring your subscriber list tomorrow. And if you think of any questions, you can ask me in the morning."
 
"Okay."
 
"And Saturday, I'll help you with your first collection day."
 
************
 
The third day, Danny learned why Shane had clout. Danny had arrived first, and was folding his papers when Kent showed up.
 
"Well, look who's here. Right on top of things." He began to stuff Danny's folded papers into his bag. "Thanks for doing my work for me."
 
Danny wasn't having any of it. "Those are mine, you jerk. Fold your own."
 
Scott and Mateo came through the door.
 
"What's up?"
 
"Danny boy doesn't understand he's supposed to fold my papers for me. That's what the junior boy is supposed to do. Got a problem with that, Danny?"
 
Danny did have a problem with it, and was vocal about it. That was the excuse the bully was looking for. Danny was fighting back against punches when Kent suddenly found himself collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath. Holding Kent in place, Shane spoke softly.
 
"Is there a problem, Danny?"
 
"Yeah. Kent took the papers I'd folded. And when I told him not to, he tried to beat me up."
 
"Is that true, Kent?"
 
"No, he's lying."
 
Shane slammed Kent against the wall so hard the building shook and the light bulb in the ceiling shattered. Then he spoke as quietly as before.
 
"I don't believe you." He shoved Kent towards the door. "Get out of here."
 
Kent fled, and Shane locked the door behind him before turning to Danny.
 
"You okay?"
 
"Yeah."
 
"Good, let's all fold papers. I'll let him back in when we're finished."
 
Shane, Mateo, and Scott began to fold their papers and load their bags as if nothing had happened. Overcoming his shock, Danny joined them. They worked in silence for a couple of minutes before Shane looked towards Danny.
 
"He tried that on me my first week here. He won't bother you again."
 
"What did you do to him? How did you do that so fast?"
 
"Martial arts. You oughta think about learning karate."
 
"I will."
 
************
 
Collecting was another lesson in interacting with others. Shane watched while Danny did the talking at the first few houses, and then gave him some advice.
 
"It's fine to introduce yourself by name, but say, 'your paperboy, Danny', because that's how they think of you. Most people will be surprised you're there to collect, even though you do it every week at the same time. Almost all of them will pay up, and most give good tips, especially at Christmas. If they say they don't have the money, let it go once. The second week, politely tell them delivery will be stopped until they pay what they owe. That usually solves the problem, but if not, don't listen to excuses and don't give in. It's your money they're not paying you."
 
They stopped at a couple of homes where people were moving in, and Shane showed Danny how to get a new subscription. And he had specific instructions at selected homes.
 
"Don't go inside that house. The guy who lives there is weird."
 
"That lady came to the door naked once. I think she has a thing for younger guys."
 
"If that kid offers you a tip and invites you inside, do it. He gives good head."
 
Danny had no idea what good head was, and he was reluctant to ask. But he was about to find out.
 
************
 
The Sunday paper was a pain in the ass with additional papers, and inserts to be added to each one. Kent's dad was going to drive him around. Scott, Mateo, and Shane owned bicycles with baskets in front or over the back wheel. Danny stuffed as many unfolded papers as he could into his bag, but about a dozen remained on the workbench. He commented to Shane.
 
"I'll have to come back for the rest."
 
Shane chuckled. "I had to do that my first week. It works, but I'm sure you'll come up with something better."
 
Danny headed out on his route, grumbling a little and rolling the papers only if they needed to go into a delivery tube. By the time he headed back, he was sure that the others had finished and gone home. But when he arrived at the shack, he found Mateo's and Shane's bicycles leaning against the wall and his remaining papers in Shane's basket. Curious, he started to enter the shack, but was stopped in his tracks by what he saw.
 
Shane was leaning against the back wall. His shirt lay on the workbench, and his Levi's were unbuttoned. Kneeling in front of him, Mateo's head bobbed up and down on his hard shaft. Shane's hands rested on the sides of Mateo's head, and his hips moved slightly forward each time Mateo's mouth moved down. Shane was speaking softly.
 
"Yeah, like that, Mateo... You're really good at this... Okay, I'm gonna cum now."
 
Shane stopped moving. Mateo's head moved a couple more times and then he swallowed hard. Pulling off, he stood up. Shane grinned at him.
 
"Thanks, Mateo. That was great. Just like last time."
 
Quickly backing away from the door, Danny grabbed his papers out of Shane's basket and hurried away.
 
Stunned by what he'd seen, Danny delivered the rest of the papers on autopilot before returning home. Sitting on his bed, he thought some more. Now he knew what giving head meant. Shane had enjoyed it, and having someone else do that to you probably meant it was better than jacking off.
 
But why did Shane leave the door open? The answer came to him quickly. Shane wanted Danny to know what he was doing - what went on in the newspaper shack. Shane was looking towards the door the whole time, and probably knew Danny had watched.
 
Standing up, Danny pulled off his shirt, unzipped his jeans, and stood in front of the mirror. As he watched himself stroke his shaft, he thought about what he'd seen. It made him harder, and when he blew his load, it felt better than ever before.
 
************
 
The days turned into a couple of weeks. Danny now used his bicycle. He quickly learned how to balance the extra weight of the full newspaper bag. He found an old basket in a nearby vacant lot, and his dad helped him mount it on his bike.
 
Danny never let on to Shane that he'd seen anything unusual, and Shane never raised the subject. But Danny started riding past the shack after he was done with his route to see if anyone else was there. Maybe he could watch again and learn more.
 
After a couple of weeks, Danny had enough money to make a planned purchase. His mom took him to a couple of clothing stores, and he came home with a muscle shirt and a pair of shrink-to-fit, button-fly Levi's. After his mom had washed them, they fit just snug enough to show his middle leg - like Shane's did.
 
The next day, Danny wore his new clothes to do his paper route, a little nervous about how Shane would react, if he even noticed. Shane noticed, and his eyes twinkled a little as he commented.
 
"Nice duds, buddy."
 
Danny blushed.
 
"Thanks... buddy."
 
"Scott, Mateo, check this out."
 
The two boys stopped folding papers. Shane lifted the front of the younger boy's shirt.
 
"Muscle shirt, Levi's, no belt, top button open, a little fur showing... Anything underneath, Danny?"
 
Danny grinned happily. "Nope."
 
Mateo poked Scott. "Does he remind you of anyone?"
 
Scott thought for a moment. "Hmm... Do you think he's trying to look like Shane?"
 
Shane smiled. "He could be my little bro."
 
Danny glowed with happiness. Being Shane's little bro was even better than being his buddy.

Continue reading..

Information Indian Summer
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:57 PM - Replies (10)

   


Chapter 1
Brothers

"Where are you going, Buddy?" Mom shouted as I went out the back door.

"Up the creek," I hollered back.

"Don't get into any trouble," was her response, as expected.

"Of course not," I replied dutifully, as always.

The year was 1967, and I'd recently passed my fifteenth birthday. I'd spent the first fourteen years of my life in an urban setting. Since real and imagined city evils were at the top of Mom's "trouble" category, I hadn't been allowed to go more than a block from home except for school. All that changed for the better when we moved to the country a month after my fourteenth birthday. I had complete freedom to explore the creek and the woods simply because Mom didn't understand how many ways one could get into trouble out there.

"And don't come home with any tall tales about Indians making you their blood-brother!"

I grinned to myself and pretended I hadn't heard her. Yeah, my excitement and imagination had run wild at first about what I thought I saw in the woods and what I wished would happen. Sometimes I still thought I saw figures slipping away into the forest, but I'd stopped telling her about it.

Dressed in loose cutoff Levis and sneakers, I ran to the creek and began my journey upstream, jumping from rock to rock and occasionally wading through a pool. The warm sun on my bare back gave way to the cool shade of the woods.

I glanced up at a deer and her twin fawns standing quietly in the woods. She'd seen me before and wasn't concerned. I'd seen many animals along the creek during the previous summer, including a mountain lion that Mom didn't know about. So far, I hadn't seen a human animal.

I smiled as I ran my hand over my Mohawk haircut. Dad had easily been convinced to give me the haircut. Mom wasn't so happy about it. I loved it. I'd never seen a blond, blue-eyed Indian, but that didn't discourage me from wanting to be one.

The canyon narrowed as I continued upstream. At the deeper pools, I paused to watch the trout I'd tried unsuccessfully to spear with a sharp stick. Wading in, I splashed the cool refreshing water on my face.

About a half-mile upstream, the canyon opened up into a small clearing where the creek flowed through a mountain meadow. In my Indian fantasy, this was my sacred place where I could be one with nature.

Entering the clearing, I kicked off my sneakers and stood on a rock overlooking my favorite swimming hole, listening to the gurgling sound of the water and the wind in the trees. A raven overhead called to its mate.

Unbuttoning my shorts, I released my raging boner. As a late bloomer, my pubic hair had only recently developed. I was proud of the treasure trail growing up towards my navel. The pole that jutted upward had been fully functional for about a year, and I made good use of it in the only way I knew how.

I spit on my hand and stood with the sun warming my back as I gently stroked myself. Edging wasn't in my vocabulary yet, since frequency was more important than duration. I knew I could do it as often as I wanted to. It didn't take long before the sounds of the creek and the wind in the trees slowly faded away as the intense sensation between my legs spread throughout my body. Silently, I shot a load into the pool. As always, the trout quickly cleaned up the evidence.

I was thinking about another session when I looked around. Finding that I wasn't alone, I quickly rinsed the jizz off my hands and buttoned up my shorts. Lying in the grass about twenty feet away, watching me with a mischievous grin, was a friend from school. Benny was seventeen, and his dark skin, black hair, and dark brown eyes revealed his American Indian heritage. Shirtless, barefoot, and wearing a pair of camouflage cargo shorts, his rock-hard body matched his status as a state champion wrestler. He had a Mohawk haircut which looked exactly like my blond one. To be honest, I'd shamelessly copied his hair style.

Lying beside Benny, dressed in loose frayed cargo shorts, was his younger brother, Tocho. At fourteen, Tocho had been in the eighth grade the year before, so as a high school freshman, I knew him mostly from talking with him at Benny's wrestling matches. Named after his spirit guide, the mountain lion, Tocho was a smaller image of Benny except that his hair was coarse and shaggy and covered his ears.

Benny was my hero and role model because he was a genuine American Indian as well as being on the wrestling team. I'd asked him a lot of questions about his culture. Although he seemed amused by my interest and enthusiasm, he was very considerate about satisfying my curiosity. He and Tocho had taken me to a ceremonial dance once, and it had been the highlight of my life.

"Hey, Tonto, feeding the fish, I see," Benny observed with a twinkle in his eyes. "Giving back to nature is a good thing."

The nickname was a private one Benny gave me after I got the Mohawk haircut. I liked it, coming from him, even though it implied I was a Hollywood Indian.

He motioned for me to join them. "Come over here and be sociable. We gotta get to know each other better."

The two of them moved apart, giving me room to drop down between them on their blanket. My face was red with embarrassment.

"There's no need to be ashamed, Buddy. We all jerk off from time to time. It's perfectly natural, and out here in the woods is the best place to enjoy yourself that way." He rubbed my Mohawk playfully. "By the way, I like that you got a haircut like mine."

"I was afraid you'd laugh, but it was important to me."

"I didn't laugh. I understood completely. It's a symbol of your interest in our culture and your desire to have the same closeness to nature we do." He gave me a teasing smile. "Or maybe it's because you like me."

My mouth got ahead of my brain. "Actually, it's all of that. But I do like you a lot."

Now I was blushing again. I glanced over at Tocho, who was watching in silent amusement. Tocho tended to be the quiet kind, not bashful, but as if his mind were somewhere else on more important things.

Benny lightly stroked my chest. "I like you too, Buddy. You're a sincere and sensitive guy. And that dark all-over tan almost makes you look like the Indian you wanna be. But we gotta do something about your blond hair and blue eyes."

A shiver ran up my spine from the touch, and my boner started to come back to life. It seemed that when Benny was around, I always had a boner, and I didn't quite understand why.

I grinned at him. "I wish it were that easy."

The three deer I'd seen earlier wandered into the clearing, browsing on leaves and grass. The doe looked at us and then went back to eating.

"I see those deer often," I observed.

"Do they ever run away?" Benny asked.

"Nope. They don't seem to be bothered by me."

"That's because you're connected with nature. I saw that in you long ago. You belong here with them, and they know it."

"I guess the mountain lion I saw must have known that, too. He looked at me for several long seconds before disappearing into the woods."

Benny looked at Tocho, and a silent communication passed between them.

"The fact that you saw a mountain lion is meaningful. The Ghost Cat doesn't reveal himself to everyone. And it's more significant that he didn't disappear immediately. Were you scared?"

"Nope. He seemed to be trying to tell me something."

"That's interesting. Remember that. It may be important later."

The doe and her fawns wandered back into the woods to browse elsewhere. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, watching a pair of dragonflies flashing in the sunlight.

Benny ran his hand over my Mohawk again. "From what you told me and what I've seen, you're more of an Indian than you realize." He stood up. "I gotta go, but before I do, I'm gonna give you a new nickname. The name means 'lost white brother'. You're now part of our family, Pahana."

I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. "You don't know how much that means to me."

Benny smiled. "I know more about what it means to you than you do right now, but we'll talk about that another time. Right now, I gotta go, but Tocho is gonna hang around and go swimming."

I wiped the tears away and looked at Tocho. "Is it okay if I join you?"

Tocho smiled at me. "I'd like that, Pahana. Maybe I can show you some things that would interest you."
************
Removing our shorts and tossing them to one side, Tocho and I waded into the cold water. With a grin, Tocho splashed freezing cold water on me. I dove under the water and tackled him, pulling him under with me. We wrestled around playfully, our hands tentatively exploring each other's bodies as we enjoyed our adolescent fun. The water was far too cold to tolerate for more than a minute or two, but in spite of that, we both had boners when we came out.

We stood there grinning at each other, both wanting to continue the game. Tocho began to stroke his pole, so I did too. I'd never seen another guy do what I did all the time, and it excited me in new ways. We looked into each other's eyes and grinned, and the challenge was on.

Tocho came first, firing multiple jets of sperm at me. Before he was done I returned the favor. We stood there laughing at our antics before jumping back into the pool to wash off.

Lying down side by side on the blanket to dry, we watched a pair of ravens playing in the air currents. Tocho reached out and took my hand.
"That was fun!"

I squeezed his hand. "Yeah, it was. I've never done anything like that before."

He smiled knowingly. "You'll probably be saying that again before long."

I lay there for a while wondering what he meant. Maybe he'd tell me more later.

Tocho changed the subject. "I've seen you in the woods from time to time. I don't think you've seen me though."

I looked at him thoughtfully. "I think maybe I have seen you. Sometimes I have glimpses of someone slipping away into the forest. Usually when I'm down by the creek, but sometimes when I'm lying on my towel here."

Tocho looked a little embarrassed, and then grinned. "Your eyes and ears are better than I thought. Maybe we can make you into a real Indian yet."

Tocho changed the subject again. "I've also seen you trying to spear fish in the creek. Spears won't work for small fish in streams. I have another method. Let me show you how I catch trout in the creek."

Putting on our shorts, we walked upstream a short distance to a large pool. Tocho pulled a shiny white object out of his pocket.

"This is a bone fishing lure that my grandfather gave me. There's a hook on the end. It doesn't have a barb, which makes fishing more difficult, but also more interesting. It's used without any bait. In the old days, the fishing line would have been made out of some fiber growing in the area. That isn't available, so I use modern fishing line. Let me show you how it's done. Sit here on the bank and watch, because we don't wanna let the fish know we're here."

Tocho carefully approached the pool by way of a large rock. Lying on the rock, he lowered his lure into the pool. With small movements of the lure, he waited.

Tocho had infinite patience. It was ten minutes before he got a nibble. When the ten-inch trout had the hook in its mouth, he flipped it onto the bank with one smooth movement. With his pocket knife, he cut a forked willow branch to use as a stringer.

Tocho handed me the lure. "Okay, now you try it."

I duplicated Tocho's approach to the pool as closely as possible. Then I lowered the hook into the water and watched. I could see fish swimming around in the pool. Occasionally one would show some interest, but not enough to find out if it was looking at food.

Tocho had some advice. "Lower the lure closer to the bottom of the pool."

In a couple of minutes, I got a bite, but I reacted too quickly and the fish got away.

"Let's move to the next pool," Tocho advised. "When a fish bites, watch carefully to make sure it really has taken the hook."

About fifty feet farther up the creek, Tocho identified another pool to try and the rock to try it from. I carefully positioned myself. Lowering the hook to the general level where I could see the fish, I watched as several looked and moved on. Then a larger fish nibbled. I waited. It nibbled again, and then took the hook. With the same smooth movement I'd observed, I flipped the fish onto the bank, too close to the water. Tocho quickly grabbed it before it could escape.

Tocho grinned happily. "This is a beauty. It's more than twelve inches long. For this creek, that's a big one. Now let's move on and see if we can get two more. That'll be enough for dinner."

Tocho got lucky and quickly landed one at the next pool, nearly as big as mine. Then he let me try again. It took me a half hour and three missed opportunities before I captured another one. This time, I flipped it farther up onto the bank.

"Should we go to your house or mine to cook them?" Tocho asked.

A sly grin spread over my face. Mom was about to get a dose of reality.

"Mine, and I'll tell you why. I've been telling Mom about seeing Indians in the woods and becoming their blood-brother. Yeah, I made some of it up, but now I know I didn't make it all up. And I now have a real Indian brother. So let's go to my house and see what Mom has to say about the fish my imaginary brother and I caught using a primitive Indian tool. Dad will be very interested in the lure, too."

Tocho laughed. "Okay, I like your idea. Do you want me to call you Buddy or Pahana?"

I considered that briefly. "Go with Pahana. And then watch Mom's face when I explain it. And do you wanna cook the fish yourself?"

"If your mom will let me. There's nothing special about the way I do it, but I'm used to doing it at home."
************
Tocho and I took the path through the woods. It was early enough that Mom would not have started dinner yet.

I was working on a plan. "Let's go talk with Mom first, and then clean the fish. And let me carry the fish."

I walked into the kitchen with Tocho following. "Hey, Mom, look at what my friend and I caught. Can he cook them for dinner for us?"

Mom looked at the fish, then at me, then at Tocho.

Introductions were in order. "This is my friend Tocho. I know him from school. Tocho, this is my mother."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Tocho said politely.

"I'm glad to meet you too, Tocho," Mom replied.

A dozen different struggles were going on in Mom's mind. She bought some time by sending us out to clean the fish. When we came back, she had it sorted out.

"Buddy, will you please get shirts for both of you?"

I complied, and Tocho and I put the shirts on.

"Tocho, what will you need to cook the fish?"

"A frying pan, flour, cornmeal, a couple eggs, salt and pepper, and oil. And maybe some dried basil."

"Fine, I'll get that together for you. And the fish will go well with the salad I made."

I watched closely while Tocho cooked the trout. I wanted to know how to do it, too. Mom watched from a distance. It was clear that Tocho was familiar with working in the kitchen.

At dinner, Dad had some questions.

"Where did you catch the trout?"

"Up the creek about a half mile," I replied.

"What did you catch them with?"

Tocho pulled his lure out of his pocket and handed it to Dad.

Dad looked at the lure with amazement. "This is an American Indian bone lure!"

Tocho took over. "My grandfather gave it to me."

"And who caught the fish?"

"We each caught two. I taught Pahana how to use it. Oh, sorry, I mean Buddy. That other is a name my brother gave him."

"What does Pahana mean?"

"Lost white brother. My brother gave Buddy that name because we both feel like he's our brother."

I watched Mom, waiting for her to have a stroke.

"I'm asking too many questions. The fish are absolutely delicious. Thanks for cooking them for us and for showing Buddy how to use that magnificent lure. I hope he appreciates the opportunity you gave him."

"I know he does. He's very interested in American Indian culture, and Benny and I enjoy teaching him about things."

Mom struggled to maintain her composure. The "tall tales" were becoming reality before her very eyes. She redirected the conversation to a reality she understood.

"There's apple pie for dessert."

We enjoyed the pie in silence. I think Dad was reflecting on what a good friend I'd found, and Mom was trying to adjust to the fact that there were Indians out there in the woods.

"It's getting late," Dad observed. "Would you like to spend the night with Buddy? Would that be okay with you, Dear?" he asked Mom as an afterthought. I suspected he would catch hell later for not asking her first.

"Tocho, will it be okay with your mother?" Mom asked. "You can call her if you want to."

"She won't mind at all. And my brother knows where I am."

"I'll clean up the dishes, Mom," I offered, giving her the final shock of the evening.

While I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, my parents became better acquainted with Tocho.
************
Tocho and I went downstairs. I showed him my bedroom and fixed him up with towels in the bathroom. Then we played ping pong in the family room until it was time to take showers and go to bed. Neither of us had worn underwear during the day. I normally wore it at night, but Tocho crawled into bed naked, as if that were normal for him. I wanted to be like my new brother. I turned out the lights and crawled into bed naked beside him. "The whole evening couldn't have worked out better if we'd rehearsed it. Pretending to accidentally call me Pahana was brilliant." Tocho grinned. "Your imaginary friends have become real." "And I have an Indian brother who has parental approval. Even for an overnight stay. The fish was really good, by the way. You have a lot of different talents." Tocho grinned mischievously at me. "More than you can imagine." I dozed off, wondering what other talents he might have to share.

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Information Forest Service Summer
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:49 PM - Replies (4)

   



Chapter 1
 
Monday, July 3, 1967
 
In the warm afternoon sun, the boy stood beside the river road with his thumb out. His other hand rested on the top edge of an inflated truck inner tube nearly as tall as himself. Shaggy, damp hair and wet cutoffs hanging low on his hips further confirmed what he'd been doing. He was probably fifteen, though his thin frame made him look younger. Undernourished, came to Logan's mind. Sexy, though - he'd be fun in bed.
 
The dust swirled around the government-green Forest Service pickup as Logan braked to a stop beside the hitchhiker. The boy tossed the inner tube in the back and climbed into the cab. Pushing his black hair away from his dark-brown eyes, he smiled shyly.
 
"Thanks."
 
"No problem, buddy."
 
Actually, it was a problem. Logan was jeopardizing his summer job as the district recreation assistant with the Forest Service. Picking up hitchhikers in government vehicles was seriously frowned upon. Logan had never done it before, but something about the boy compelled him to stop.
 
In addition to that compulsion, he was feeling rebellious, having just given his no-fireworks-in-the-forest lecture for the umpteenth time - without any legal capacity to enforce it. All he could do was notify the sheriff, and he'd already learned that was like pissing into the wind.
 
For a while they rode in silence, broken only by the sound of the engine and the tires on the gravel. Logan had no doubt about the boy's destination. He'd seen him at Beaver Creek Campground, about six miles up the road, one of the four he was responsible for.
 
The teenager had been there for over a week now, presumably camping, although Logan had only seen him swimming in the river, sitting on a log looking bored or, more rarely, talking with other campers his age. They'd waved to each other a couple of times, but that was the extent of their contact.
 
As if reading his mind, the boy smiled.
 
"I've seen you at the campground."
 
There was an unspoken message that Logan understood:
 
**I like you and I wanna be your friend.**
 
Logan smiled gently. "I've seen you too."
 
There was a silent message there as well:
 
**I'll be glad to be your friend, buddy.**
 
Logan paused for a few moments.
 
"Did you do the float trip by yourself?"
 
"Yeah, there wasn't anybody to go with me."
 
Though tempted to give his official water-safety spiel, Logan kept silent. The boy was old enough to know his own limitations. Furthermore, friends don't lecture, especially new ones.
 
Turning into the campground, Logan noted, as always, the fire-prevention poster. Smokey Bear pointed at everyone who entered reminding them: Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires.
 
"Which campsite?"
 
"Ten."
 
That was the site with the best view of the river, where he'd frequently seen an older woman sitting in the shade, reading and sometimes smoking. They waved to each other each day when Logan arrived to maintain the campground. Most likely the boy's grandmother.
 
As Logan pulled up in front of campsite ten, the woman was reading, as usual. She stood and came toward the pickup as the boy got out and retrieved his inner tube. Short but solid, she had that hard-working, no-nonsense country look of someone who had experience dealing with a cross-section of humanity - someone who'd give you the shirt off their back if needed but wouldn't hesitate to put you in your place if required. Her penetrating look at Logan suggested she'd sized him up quickly, and her smile indicated she approved. When she spoke, her voice had a raspy, heavy-smoker sound.
 
"Thanks for giving Danny a ride. I'm his neighbor, Hazel."
 
Now the boy had a name, and a known relationship with the woman.
 
"Nice to meet you, Hazel. I'm Logan. No problem with the ride."
 
"Would you like a soda?"
 
"Could I stop by in a half hour, after the trash is collected and the bathrooms cleaned?"
 
"Sure. We'll see you then."
 
As Logan parked next to the restrooms, several younger children gathered around The Ranger. Part of his job was public relations, and dispensing Smokey Bear pencils was one of those tasks. As he handed out the pencils, he posed his usual question.
 
"Can any of you tell me what Smokey's middle name is?"
 
Conditioned to the classroom, three raised their hands. Logan pointed to the closest young lady of about eight years.
 
"Grizzly?"
 
"Good try." He pointed to the younger boy next to her. "How about you, young man."
 
The kid grinned and followed his sister's lead, sure he knew the answer.
 
"Brown?"
 
"Good guess, but it's much simpler than that."
 
The remaining hand belonged to a very serious-looking youngster with wire-rim glasses. He held up the souvenir Logan had given him.
 
"It's right on the pencil. He doesn't have a middle name. There's a stupid joke that his middle name is 'the', but that's only because of the song - which is wrong."
 
This kid was destined to be a lawyer, for sure.
 
"Good job, buddy. You're the first one this summer who got that right."
 
Logan reached into the cab of the pickup and pulled out a foot-tall, stuffed Smokey Bear, complete with blue jeans, personalized belt and hat, and official fire prevention badge. His parents had bought a half dozen of these for him to give away on special occasions. He handed it to the young lad.
 
"Because you're so smart, you get this prize."
 
The smile that lit up the boy's face made it clear he was still a kid at heart, even if he had a lawyer's brain.
 
"Cool! Thank you, Logan!"
 
The kid was observant too. He'd noticed Logan's name tag. Definitely lawyer material.
 
As the children dutifully thanked him and returned to their play, Logan turned to the more menial duties. Fortunately, the real brown bear hadn't been around to raid the garbage cans. He smiled at the scratch marks high on the outhouse wall where the bear had literally scared the crap out of some poor kid a few days earlier.
 
************
 
While Logan sat at the picnic table drinking his soda and talking with Hazel, Danny sat next to him - as close as possible without touching. Whenever Logan set his drink down, Danny picked it up and took a sip. Logan grinned at him.
 
"I'm sure you could have your own."
 
The younger boy smiled happily.
 
"Nope. I wanna share yours."
 
Logan rubbed Danny's back gently and then put an arm around his shoulders.
 
"I'm happy to share with you, buddy."
 
Danny moved closer, a contented smile on his face. Had he been a cat, he'd have purred. Hazel watched the interaction with amusement - and obvious affection for Danny.
 
Logan learned that Hazel was the county director of social services. Her husband, Harvey, was a log truck driver. She was on vacation, and the three of them were camping near his current work site. That explained why the empty log truck, its trailer perched on the back, was parked in a turnout area near the campground in the evening.
 
It also explained the two tents, the second back in the trees, technically off the campsite. Logan was supposed to discourage that practice, but he seldom did and wasn't about to now. If Danny wanted a little privacy for wanking, it was fine with him.
 
Logan finished his soda and stood. "I gotta get on with the other campgrounds. Thanks a lot for the drink."
 
Hazel stood too. "Thanks again for giving Danny a ride. Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?"
 
Logan was used to these invitations that separated the locals from the tourists.
 
"Thanks, I'd like that."
 
"Great. Would six o'clock work?"
 
"That'd be perfect, thank you."
 
"Okay, see you then."
 
************
 
At five o'clock, Logan pulled into the Rock Creek Work Center, summer home for the trail crew and other seasonal personnel like himself. He parked his government pickup, logged his mileage, and then stopped briefly at the dining hall.
 
"I won't be here for dinner tonight, Mary."
 
Mary, a local resident and former schoolteacher, put her hands on her hips. "Something wrong with my cooking?"
 
Logan smiled. "You know better than that. I have an invitation from some local campers."
 
She smiled back. "Have a good time. Anybody I know?"
 
"Hazel, the social services director, her husband Harvey whom I haven't met, and their neighbor, Danny."
 
Mary paused briefly before replying in her usual candid manner.
 
"Yes, I know them all. Hazel and Harvey are the salt of the earth. Danny was in my classroom when he was in sixth grade. I suppose he'd be a sophomore in high school by now. In spite of his living conditions he's a good kid, and a large part of that is due to Hazel's and Harvey's support."
 
Mary returned to her food preparation tasks. Logan, though curious about her last comment, knew he'd learned all he was going to right then, and started to leave. But Mary wasn't quite finished.
 
"I haven't seen Danny for a while. If you happen to bring him out this way, stop by for cookies and lemonade."
 
"Sure, but what makes you think I'll be bringing him out here?"
 
Still engaged with her tasks, Mary replied without turning around.
 
"Intuition."
 
It was a confusing conclusion, but it was clear the conversation was over. Logan headed for his room. He knew that his roommate, Carl, the trail crew supervisor, was already there by the hard-driving sounds of Jefferson Airplane drifting from the open window.
 
Don't you want somebody to love
Don't you need somebody to love
Wouldn't you love somebody to love
You better find somebody to love
 
 No shit, Sherlock. Grace Slick had him pegged.
 
************
 
After changing out of his Forest Service uniform, Logan got into his aging Chevy pickup and drove the three miles to the campground. Danny was anxiously waiting for him and greeted him with a big smile. Hazel introduced Logan to Harvey, and then took him aside.
 
"Danny would like to float the river with you Wednesday. He's too shy to ask. He says Wednesday and Thursday are your days off. Is that right?"
 
Logan smiled. "Yes, that's right. And a float trip sounds like fun. I'll talk with him about the details. How did he know about my days off?"
 
"He said those were the days you weren't here last week."
 
Logan laughed. "He doesn't miss much, does he?"
 
Hazel put a hand on his arm.
 
"Where you're concerned, he doesn't miss a goddamn thing. Would you like a beer?"
 
"I'd love one, but you should know you're contributing to the delinquency of a minor. I won't be eighteen for a few weeks yet."
 
Hazel fetched a can of Olympia and handed it to him.
 
"What's a few weeks among friends?"
 
While Harvey grilled hamburgers and Hazel prepared the rest of the dinner, they all became better acquainted. Harvey was a self-made, hard-working logger who'd started by setting chokers and worked his way up. In time, he bought a truck and became his own boss.
 
Logan explained that he'd recently graduated from high school and would be going to college in the fall with a forestry degree in mind. Harvey made a suggestion.
 
"When you graduate, work in private industry instead of being a government stooge."
 
Logan laughed. "That's four years away yet, and it's too early to make that decision. But I'll take your advice into consideration."
 
After dinner, the two boys agreed on an afternoon float trip to take advantage of the warmer part of the day. Logan would show up Wednesday at noon.
 
************
 
As he drove back to the work center, the Forest Service radio in Logan's pickup came alive with chatter. The towering cumulus clouds to the west, which the lookouts had reported earlier, were building higher and moving in. A dry thunderstorm was forecast, and as warm and dry as it was, lightning strikes would surely produce fires.
 
When he arrived at the work center, Logan learned that the holiday had been canceled for all personnel. Logan was already scheduled to work, but his efforts were likely to be redirected from public relations to fire suppression.

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Information Real Brothers
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:45 PM - No Replies

   


Saturday, October 14, 1961
 
Benji's favorite season was fall. He loved to watch the leaves change color and drop to the ground in a collage of yellow, red, and brown - with a little green to remind him of the summer fun now past. The leaves turned the gray rocks in the creek into individual works of art that changed from day to day as new leaves fell and others washed away. They turned the big mossy rock into an even softer and more colorful resting place.
 
And this year, he had a brother to share it with. Peter had shed the city like a snake sheds its old skin. You'd never know he hadn't lived in the country all his life, except for the occasional lapse when he'd complain about not being able to watch Bonanza. Even though the city was only forty miles away, the mountains in between precluded TV reception.
 
But the forest provided its own amusements, much healthier than television. Swimming had been abandoned with the end of summer, but hiking prevailed into the fall. And since both boys were turning out for cross-country, they frequently ran together for several miles each day on abandoned logging roads and deer trails.
 
It had been an unusually warm October day. Returning from a five-mile run, Benji and Peter collapsed side by side on top of the big rock, floating on an endorphin high and savoring the fall fragrance of the warm, dry leaves under their bare backs. In the sky overhead, clear except for a few wisps of cirrus clouds, a raven called to its mate, and a V-formation of Canada geese headed south. It was autumn perfection, made even more perfect by someone to share it with. Benji turned his head towards his brother.
 
"Are you gonna turn out for wrestling too?"
 
"Yeah, I think so." He laughed. "I think Coach Wilson uses cross country to recruit wrestlers. He says it's a good way to get in shape for other sports."
 
Benji smiled. "I remember that lecture from last year. And then he'll be pushing track next spring. I never did that though. There's too much to do in the woods in the spring."
 
"Do you think you'll like wrestling in high school?"
 
"With a friend like Hunter to give me advice, it's sure to be great. And Coach Barton is gonna be good too. He's the only coach at this school to ever produce a state champion."
 
"Maybe he'll produce a second one this year."
 
Benji chuckled. "If you mean me, being a state champion as a freshman doesn't happen. Maybe in a year or two."
 
They lay in silence for a while. Benji sensed that Peter had something on his mind.
 
"Something bothering you, bro?"
 
Peter thought for a few moments.
 
"Why don't we ever do sex things together?"
 
Benji tried the light-hearted approach.
 
"Aren't you getting enough with Darren?"
 
"Yeah, but it'd be cool to do stuff with you."
 
Benji paused to gather his thoughts.
 
"Yeah, it would, but people say that brothers aren't supposed to do it with each other."
 
"Yeah, but other brothers do. I know that Kofi and Kojo do. And your friends Matt and Ryan do it. Besides, we're not real brothers."
 
Benji was quiet for a few moments. Then he stood up.
 
"I'm hungry. Let's go home."
 
************
 
The two boys came in the back door. Peter was chattering happily, as always.
 
"Hey, Mom. What's for dinner?"
 
Their mom scowled at him playfully.
 
"Is that all you think about?"
 
Peter grinned. "Sometimes I think about how much I love you."
 
Their mom looked at Benji. Something was wrong. He wasn't usually this quiet. She glanced at their dad, who had something else to talk about. He directed their attention to a letter lying on the kitchen table.
 
"Margaret delivered this today. Peter, it seems there's a family court time slot available next Friday to finalize your adoption."
 
For about two seconds, you could have heard a pin drop. Then Peter gave each of his new parents a big hug.
 
"Thanks for adopting me, Mom and Dad."
 
Then he turned to Benji with a happy smile. But Benji wasn't there.
 
************
 
In the back of the shallow cave under the big rock, Benji sat with tears running down his cheeks, his arms wrapped around his bare torso. The day may have been warm, but the night would be cold, and Benji still wore nothing but his running shorts and shoes. Peter's words rang in his ears.
 
"We're not real brothers."
 
For three long months, they had waited for this day - the day the adoption would be certain. Peter was cheerfully positive it would come; Benji was afraid it wouldn't. Now he wondered if he cared.
 
"We're not real brothers."
 
Nothing could have hurt him more. The little brother he adored and looked out for had casually dismissed their relationship with four words.
 
He wiped the tears from his eyes. He wasn't going home, but he had to go somewhere or hypothermia would set in. How far was it to Eric's place? Four miles. No problem. He was a cross-country runner.
 
************
 
Eric answered the knock on the door.
 
"Benji, what the hell? It's dark and cold and you haven't even got a shirt."
 
Benji came inside, and Eric saw the tears.
 
"What the fuck is up, buddy? What's wrong?"
 
"Something I gotta talk to you about."
 
Eric's mom had come up behind them, and she had other concerns.
 
"Have you had dinner?"
 
"No."
 
"Can your talk wait that long?"
 
"Yeah."
 
"Then sit down and eat. We just finished, and the food is still on the table. Eric, get him a shirt. Better yet, a sweatshirt."
 
Eric brought a hoodie and his mom set Benji a place at the table.
 
"Now, eat, and then you can talk."
 
When Benji had eaten, he looked up at Eric's mom.
 
"Thanks for dinner. I feel a lot better. But what's bothering me is something I gotta talk to Eric about alone."
 
Eric's mom smiled. "I understand."
 
************
 
Eric closed the door to his bedroom.
 
"Okay, what's up?"
 
"Peter says we're not real brothers."
 
Eric knew how excited Benji was to have a brother, and how devastated he must feel.
 
"Sit down on the bed, and tell me about it."
 
Benji sat, and related the conversation about not having sex.
 
"I was going to explain that I didn't wanna do anything to screw up his adoption. We're being monitored pretty closely, and something like that could screw everything up. But after he said that, all I wanted to do was go home and hide in my room. But Dad had news that the adoption will be final next Friday. I figured the best thing to do was leave and let them talk about that. I wasn't up for it."
 
"I'm glad you came here. Are you sure he meant what he said?"
 
"Why else would he say it?"
 
"So, do you still feel like you're real brothers?"
 
Benji thought for a while. "Yes, I do."
 
"Then maybe you should tell him so."
 
Benji was quiet for a few moments.
 
"I can't deal with it tonight. Can I stay here?"
 
"Of course, you can. You can always stay here."
 
Eric's mom knocked on the door, and Eric opened it for her.
 
"Benji, do your parents know where you are?"
 
Benji looked at the floor. "No, and I'm not sure I wanna tell them."
 
"You need to tell them anyway, and now would be a good time."
 
************
 
Peter and his parents had eaten in silence. It wasn't like Benji to run off without a word of explanation. They all knew something was wrong, but Peter's description of their afternoon run left out one important part - the conversation about sex - and with it the comment that Peter had made. His parents would have known immediately. Peter was clueless.
 
Peter went to his room. His dad checked the outbuildings and returned, shaking his head.
 
"Do you have any idea where he could have gone?"
 
"I called Betty. He's not down there with Darren."
 
"What about Hunter or Eric?"
 
"They both live several miles away, so I didn't call yet."
 
"Let's talk with Peter again first."
 
Peter went over his story once more, still skipping the critical part, but mentioning this time that Benji had suddenly seemed quiet and wanted to go home. His mom stopped him.
 
"What did you say to Benji just before that?"
 
Peter suddenly got it, and hung his head. "That we weren't real brothers."
 
"Why did you say that?"
 
Peter paused for a few moments. "I can't tell you."
 
"Do you understand how that affected him?"
 
Peter had tears in his eyes. "I do now. I didn't really mean it the way he thought I did."
 
The silence that followed was broken by his dad.
 
"Thank you, Peter. Why don't you go back to your room now. We've got some phone calls to make."
 
As he reached for the phone, it rang.
 
"Hello?"
 
"Hi, Dad. I'm at Eric's."
 
"Your mother and I have been very worried. Your brother is too."
 
"I'm sorry, but I had to leave. I'm gonna stay here tonight."
 
"I can come get you."
 
"Please don't."
 
"Are you sure that's best?"
 
"Yes, I am."
 
"Is there anything I should tell Peter?"
 
There was a long pause.
 
"This may not make sense to you, but tell him that he may not think we're real brothers, but I do, so he better get over it. Tell him I love him, and that we'll talk about it more tomorrow."
 
************
 
Neither Peter nor Benji had ever been in a courtroom. It was intimidating, but Margaret was waiting for them at the door and guided them into the room. She took a place in the spectator area as the rest waited to be acknowledged.
 
Seated at a desk rather than a high bench, the family court judge invited the group of four to come forward and be sworn in. Then she smiled at them.
 
"Occasions like this always give me great pleasure. There are a few formalities to be attended to before I sign the adoption decree, including questions I'm required to ask. Doris and Arthur, is it your wish to adopt Peter into your family?"
 
They replied in unison. "Yes, your honor."
 
"And Peter, do you wish to be adopted into this family?"
 
Peter looked very seriously at the judge. "Yes, your honor."
 
The judge smiled and reached for the papers, and then paused.
 
"Margaret advised me of the unusual circumstances that brought Peter into your home. So I have one more question to ask. Benji, is it your wish to have Peter as your brother?"
 
Tears came to Benji's eyes as he replied softly.
 
"Yes, your honor. More than anything else in the world."
 
Smiling, the judge signed the decree, and then addressed the group before her.
 
"At Margaret's request, we've prepared a special document. Margaret and I signed it earlier so that it could be framed for this event. Benji, would you please step forward? The rest of you may be seated."
 
Surprised, Benji wiped away his tears and did as requested. The judge stepped from behind her desk and stood next to Benji.
 
"Benji, it's not many boys who go on a hike and return with a brother." She paused while the others laughed softly. "I have a special certificate for you to commemorate both that event and today's adoption. Congratulations on being a brother, Benji."
 
As she shook Benji's hand and handed him the framed document, Margaret took a picture for posterity.
 
The document was titled, Certificate of Fraternity. Outlined in formal language was the part Benji played that eventually led to Peter's adoption, ending with the declaration that they were now officially and permanently real brothers.
 
************
 
That night when Benji and Peter went to bed, they had even more to talk about than usual. Peter was overflowing with excitement about being part of a family that loved and appreciated him. When he finally wound down, he rolled onto his side and ran his fingers lightly over Benji's chest.
 
"Now that social services isn't watching us, can we mess around a little bit?"
 
Benji reached over and ruffled his brother's hair.
 
"We can cuddle and kiss, but I don't think we should have sex together. We've both got boyfriends to have sex with, and that's the way it should be."
 
Grinning mischievously, Peter rolled on top of his brother and nestled between his legs.
 
"Is this cuddling?"
 
Benji's hands slid down Peter's smooth back to his bare bubble butt.
 
"Where's your Mighty Mouse pajama shorts?"
 
"I forgot to put them on."
 
Benji laughed out loud.
 
"Forgot them, my ass. You're trying to seduce me."
 
"It worked for Tripod. Maybe it will work for me."
 
Benji pulled his brother's head down and kissed him.
 
"Maybe it will, but not tonight. Now go to sleep, it's been a big day for both of us."
 
Benji went to sleep quickly, but Peter lay for a long time looking at the ceiling. So much had happened in the past three months, he could hardly take it all in.
 
He smiled to himself. Eventually, he'd have his way with Benji. On some cold, rainy night, they'd snuggle together for warmth, and cuddling and kissing wouldn't be enough for either of them. It was just a matter of time.
 
************
 
Several days later, Margaret stopped by for an official post-adoption visit. She brought with her photographs taken after the ceremony, including a framed enlargement of one she particularly liked.
 
After the official visit was concluded, Benji led the way to the basement bedroom. With Margaret, his parents, and his brother looking on, he added two items to the wall over the bed he and Peter shared.
 
Below the router-carved wood sign that expressed his dream of having a brother, he now hung the framed document verifying that his wish had come true, and an identically-framed photograph of two smiling boys, their arms around each other's shoulders, sharing the most important moment of their young lives.

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Information Eric's Labor Day
Posted by: WMASG - 12-30-2025, 08:43 PM - Replies (1)

   


Monday, September 4, 1961
 
"Do you have everything you need?"
 
Eric's mom was dropping him off at Rooster Rock State Park to spend the afternoon with Kofi.
 
"Shirt, shorts, sandwiches, snacks, water, and a towel. That oughta do it."
 
"I wish you wouldn't wear that Eros Arcade t-shirt in a public place like this."
 
"Why not? It's a great conversation starter. Besides, I won't be wearing it for long. It is a nude beach, so I'll have an even better conversation starter."
 
She shook her head. "You're hopeless. I'll be back to pick you up at about seven o'clock."
 
Eric grinned happily. "Sounds good. Thanks, Mom."
 
He closed the car door and looked around. Kofi was waiting for him next to the clothing-optional beach as planned, wearing his volleyball jockstrap and carrying a Frisbee in addition to his beach towel. Their high five was followed by a hug, which drew various reactions from the people around them.
 
Kofi was also carrying Kojo's jockstrap, the one decorated with the African tribal pattern. He handed it to Eric.
 
"Put this on. Kojo told me to give it to you. He says if you're gonna hang around with a kid from Africa, you gotta look the part."
 
Beaming with pleasure, Eric stripped off his shorts and put on the jockstrap.
 
"Thanks, bro. And tell Kojo thanks too."
 
Kofi evaluated the results. "You look so hot. I can't wait to screw you."
 
Eric laughed. "I see the tube of K-Y tucked into your waistband. You're prepared."
 
Kofi smiled. "For you, I'm always prepared."
 
After tanking up on water from the drinking fountain, they headed for the beach, laughing, joking, play-boxing, and behaving exactly like what they were - two fifteen-year-old friends on a fun outing without parental supervision. As they continued onto the beach, arms around each other's shoulders, Eric became aware of the impassive stares in their direction.
 
"What's with the hostility?"
 
"Got many blacks out there in the backwoods?"
 
"None."
 
"That's what I thought. Us black boys ain't supposed to hang around with you white boys. It's not all angry shit, though. Some of it is just curiosity about what it's like to have a buddy who's a different race. We'd get the same thing in my neighborhood."
 
Eric frowned. "That's bullshit." He thought some more. "You know a lot of my friends. They don't think twice about us being buddies."
 
Kofi smiled. "We're not talking about our friends. How about the others in your community?"
 
Eric was quiet for a moment. "There was an article in the county newspaper bragging about how we're not prejudiced in our all-white community. The next week there was an article bitching about all the trouble the drunken Indians are causing with their fishing-rights protests. Hello?"
 
Kofi laughed. "Yeah, about what I'd expect."
 
Eric thought for a few moments. "Let's hang out here for a while where there's more of a crowd. I wanna see how people react."
 
Kofi grinned. "It's a clothing-optional beach. If we took off our jockstraps, we'd get even more reactions."
 
Eric poked his friend in the shoulder. "Yeah, but I want them to react to our friendship, not your donkey dong."
 
Kofi smiled thoughtfully. "Yeah, you're right. That might influence the results."
 
They spread their towels away from the water at the edge of the crowd. Then they went swimming and played around in the water for a while. Eric watched as they returned. He agreed that most people were curious, or perhaps confused. Dropping down on his towel, Kofi began to sing from the recent Broadway musical and the soon-to-be-released movie.
 
"'One of your own kind. Stick to your own kind.' Unfortunately, that's the way it is."
 
Eric laughed. "Nice voice, bro. You should go on stage. Seriously, that's not the way it oughta be." He put an arm around Kofi's shoulders. "I'm glad we're friends."
 
Kofi slipped a hand inside Eric's jockstrap and grinned.
 
"So am I."
 
************
 
Sitting with his mom and younger brother, fourteen-year-old Jerry had been observing the two older boys since they first arrived. He watched as they swam and horsed around in the water, and again as they came back to sit on their towels. And he noticed Kofi's hand slipping into Eric's jockstrap pouch. He put his hand inside his swimsuit, wishing it were Kofi's hand instead, and wondering if it would feel different than his own.
 
Jerry and his brother, Brian, had just moved from Pendleton where there were virtually no blacks. He was intrigued by a friendship that crossed racial boundaries. Since intrigued and racial boundaries weren't in his vocabulary yet, it would be more correct to say that he thought it would be cool to have a black friend.
 
Brian was interested too, and being the outgoing, curious boy he was, raised the subject with his mom.
 
"I wonder what it's like having a friend who's black."
 
"Just like having a white friend."
 
"But aren't black people different?"
 
"Who told you that?"
 
"Well, some guys at school said..."
 
"Why don't you go ask if you really want to know?"
 
Brian stood up. "Okay. Jerry, do you wanna go too?"
 
As usual, Jerry was happy to let Brian take the risk. Then he'd move in and reap the rewards.
 
"No, go ahead. I'll wait here."
 
Brian walked over to Eric's towel and dropped down beside him with a smile. Eric returned the smile.
 
"Hey, buddy. What's up?"
 
"Hi, I'm Brian. Can I ask you a question?"
 
"I'm Eric, and this is Kofi. What's your question, buddy?."
 
"What's it like having a black friend?"
 
"Just like having a white friend."
 
Brian grinned. "That's what my mom told me, but she said to ask you to make sure."
 
"Where's your mom?"
 
Brian pointed. "Over there. With my brother, Jerry."
 
About twenty feet away, Brian's mom watched with a smile. An older boy with the same red hair waved at them. Kofi and Eric smiled and waved back.
 
Kofi turned to Brian. "Why don't you and your brother move your towel closer so we can talk more?"
 
Delighted, Brian ran back to his mom and brother.
 
"You were right, and they want me and Jerry to go talk with them."
 
His mom smiled. "Have a good time."
 
As the brothers gathered their belongings, Kofi and Eric checked out the family. The boys' mom, the source of the red hair, was topless. Jerry, a very average fourteen-year-old, wore a white Speedo, an Australian brand that had only been available in the USA for a couple of years. The thin nylon material and skimpy style were controversial at the time, and could have earned him an indecent exposure citation on some public beaches.
 
Eleven-year-old Brian was small for his age. He was wearing his brother's eighth-grade PE shorts that were too large for him. A safety pin on each side, likely their mom's solution, tightened the waistband enough to keep the shorts from falling off.
 
While Kofi and Eric introduced themselves, Jerry spread his towel next to Kofi and then assumed a bossy, big-brother role.
 
"Brian, go sit by your buddy, Eric, and talk with him."
 
"But I need to share the towel. And Kofi's my buddy too."
 
Kofi spoke up. "How about if you sit between me and Eric, Brian?"
 
Brian beamed with pleasure. "Cool!"
 
Eric found it easy to chat with Brian, a friendly sixth-grader with a curiosity about everything. In between the younger boy's questions about Eric, where he lived, where he got his cool jockstrap, and where he'd met Kofi, Eric learned that Brian and Jerry lived in northeast Portland, and that Jerry was the best brother ever.
 
Jerry discovered that Kofi was as friendly and outgoing as Brian. The older boy had a ready smile and a twinkle in his eye that suggested he could be a bit of a rogue if given the opportunity. Rogue was another word missing from Jerry's vocabulary, but to him, the twinkle suggested unknown, exotic adventures that might come with having a black friend.
 
Kofi grinned at him. "Nice swimwear, Jerry. Is that one of those new Speedos?"
 
Jerry grinned back. "Yeah, Mom just bought it for me."
 
"The white color goes well with your tan."
 
"Thanks."
 
Jerry's interest was obvious as he checked Kofi out. Kofi smiled at him.
 
"I bet you're as curious about black boys as your brother."
 
Jerry blushed. "Yeah, I guess I am. Where I used to live, there weren't many blacks."
 
Kofi's smile put him at ease, as did his response.
 
"Where I come from, there weren't many whites."
 
"Somewhere down south?"
 
"Nope. I'm an immigrant from Ghana. We came here when I was five. Learning to live in a mixed culture was just as strange for me as it is for you."
 
The words mixed and culture were in Jerry's vocabulary, but he was having trouble combining them into a meaningful concept. He moved on to specifics he wanted to know more about.
 
"So, how did you meet Eric?"
 
"We met this summer. We played volleyball together further up the beach."
 
"You seem like pretty good friends."
 
"We're very good friends."
 
"I think that's cool."
 
"So do we, but just to make it clear, we don't think about being black and white friends. We never did. We just think about being friends."
 
They were silent for a few minutes while Jerry tried to absorb the difference, but being obsessed with having a black friend, he didn't quite get it. He checked Kofi out again and adjusted the boner that was trying to climb out of his Speedo. Kofi noticed and smiled to himself. Eric wanted to be his friend because he was Kofi. Jerry wanted to be his buddy because he was black. No problem. The kid would figure it out later.
 
"Wanna go up the beach with me and Eric and find an open spot to play with the Frisbee?"
 
Jerry smiled happily. "Sure! I'll go check with Mom."
 
The other boys stood up and listened to the conversation that Jerry initiated.
 
"Mom, my friends, Kofi and Eric, wanna take me up the beach to play Frisbee."
 
"You can go if you take Brian along."
 
Jerry whined. "But Mom, he's just a little kid. I wanna have fun with friends my age."
 
Kofi and Eric saw the sad, disappointed expression on Brian's face. Eric put a hand on Brian's shoulder.
 
"It might be better if I stay here with Brian."
 
Kofi shook his head.
 
"The invitation is for Brian too." He squatted down. "Come here, buddy. Get on my shoulders."
 
Brian's expression changed to one of delight as he followed Kofi's instructions. Kofi stood up. Their mom looked up with a smile.
 
"Thank you, Kofi. Do you and Eric want to leave your things for me to watch?"
 
Kofi smiled. "That would be great. Thank you."
 
************
 
As Kofi headed up the beach with Brian on his shoulders, Eric and Jerry fell in behind them. Jerry was disappointed that he wasn't getting Kofi's attention. Brian was in heaven.
 
"Thanks, Kofi. Jerry used to carry me like this sometimes, but he says I'm too big for it now."
 
Kofi laughed. "Maybe that's what he thinks, but as long as I can lift you, you're not too big."
 
As they continued along the beach, Brian noticed the changing population.
 
"Why are there only guys here?"
 
"Because sometimes guys like to hang out with other guys. Eric and I like to do that, and sometimes I like to do things with my big brother. How about you? Do you like to do things with your big brother?"
 
Brian looked back at his brother wistfully. "We used to do things together. But now he just wants to spend time with his friends."
 
Kofi smiled. "That's his loss. If you were my little bro, I'd do lots of things with you. I think you're fun to be with."
 
Brian smiled happily. "Maybe you could be my big brother."
 
Kofi laughed. "I'll be happy to be your big brother, Brian. So will Eric. Your real big brother needs to learn to appreciate you more."
 
Behind them, Jerry spoke up eagerly.
 
"I can carry Brian for a while if you want me to."
 
Kofi smiled to himself at the ingratiating response.
 
"No, I'm doing just fine with my new little bro."
 
Brian had another question. "What are those guys doing?"
 
"Where?"
 
Brian pointed to two boys in the distance.
 
Kofi looked. "Just wrestling."
 
"I've never seen guys wrestling naked before."
 
"It's a special kind of wrestling, called beach wrestling."
 
"It looks like they're having fun."
 
"They are... Hey, check out those guys over there playing soccer. We should have brought a soccer ball, but the Frisbee will be fun. Let's move closer to the beach and look for a good place to play with the Frisbee"
 
Jerry had paused momentarily to look more closely at the beach wrestling.
 
"What are they really doing?"
 
Eric smiled. "They're screwing, but Kofi doesn't wanna explain it to Brian."
 
"Have you ever done that?"
 
"Oh, yeah. More than once. Getting screwed feels so good. Want me to tell you about the guy who screwed me at the Lloyd Center?"
 
Jerry's eyes opened wide with surprise. "You had sex at the Lloyd Center? Where?"
 
Eric grinned. "In a car in the parking garage. With the hunk who gave me a ride there."
 
As Eric gave Jerry a detailed report of his hitchhiking experience, the younger boy's shaft slowly crawled out of its confines. He shoved it back into place. Eric was having fun turning his new friend on, so he told him about his night with Randy, the resort desk clerk and the encounter at the adult video arcade. He finished up telling about his first experience with Kofi. Jerry adjusted himself again.
 
"You have a lot of sex with guys you just met."
 
"My first time was with my friend, Nick, but other than that, you're right."
 
Suffering from information overload, Jerry was silent for a while.
 
"So, what's it like having sex with a guy you just met?"
 
Eric smiled to himself. Jerry was really asking what it would be like to have sex with Kofi. Eric had seduced a few boys for himself, but this time he would seduce one for Kofi. He had to keep it simple and exciting, and to remember it was Jerry's first time.
 
"It's the best adventure ever. You're excited because you want him to screw you and you know he's gonna do it. You're nervous too, but you know you're gonna let him do it anyway."
 
"As he lubes his cock, you're worried because it's big and you think it might hurt. You panic a little when he presses it between your legs. Then you feel his boner sliding in, and you know it's too late to change your mind even if you wanted to, which you don't."
 
"Then there's the awesome feeling of his hard pole slowly sliding in and out of your body, exciting you in ways you never imagined possible. And finally, he's on the edge, and you know he's gonna go all the way."
 
"And when he blows, you feel his boner twitch as his jizz shoots out and you realize you let a guy you hardly know cum inside you. But it was so hot you know you'll do it again."
 
Jerry paused to absorb all of that. Then he had questions.
 
"Does it hurt?"
 
"Sometimes, but it's so much fun you hardly notice."
 
"You can really feel it when Kofi's stuff shoots inside you?"
 
"Yeah, and it feels awesome."
 
Jerry thought for a minute. "I hope I can feel it when Kofi shoots inside me... I mean if he does... what I mean is maybe someday..."
 
Kofi had tuned out Brian's chatter and was listening to the conversation behind him. He smiled to himself. Eric had done a great job of setting Jerry up for him.

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