Chapter Fourteen
Our trip back to Oxmar was interesting, but I still said next to nothing about it in the last chapter, and, beyond saying that he had a valid driver's license, I also didn't try to explain why we finally decided to head off to Canada with Elliott. My biggest reason for excluding all that, though, was because it seemed that if I were to do it justice, I'd end up with a very long chapter. Not that there's anything carved into stone saying how long a chapter should be, mind you...
But, whatever, this is about our trip home, starting with getting away from that abandoned fertilizer plant. At first, we were just walking fairly fast, all of us nervous as we could be. We would have been running, but we had to pick our way around and over all the junk and we weren't familiar with our surroundings. Elliott had been led in from the direction we were going, but he'd been mostly in a daze, so he kept saying he wasn't sure if he was going the right way or not. He probably was, but he just wasn't sure. So his acting so unsure of himself wasn't improving our morale very much, but we still had no choice but to follow. Him earnestly power-walking with Carlie's shirt covering his front but not his ass. Circumstances being what they were, I didn't find that to be an erotic sight. Our options were limited, but even so, I was thinking that if we ever got out of this, he could go his way and we'd go ours, the sooner, the better. Power-walking often causes your butt to move in an unsightly manner. Or at least it can be unsettling.
But, after what seemed like an eternity, we finally found our way out and before much longer... “I know where I am now!” said Elliott. “My station wagon's about a mile... that a way! So let's go! Hurry! Run!”
And away he went. He runs almost like a girl. But see, “that a way” also involved losing Carlie's shirt almost immediately after he took off running, and I didn't find that to be particularly erotic either. I kept thinking, “We're gonna get caught. I just know it! He is so stupid!”
I was also half-expecting to find his car had been burnt out, but it was all in one piece and he didn't forget which rock his keys were under, so he frantically raced to the rear cargo area, didn't break his key trying to get it open and soon enough we were all piling in. We hadn't spotted any unfriendlies, but we were sure they were right around the corner. So he started up, threw it into drive, and then started blowing his horn, so we thought he'd completely lost his mind. “Quit blowing your damn horn!” (Toooot!)
But then, thankfully, it stopped and with an apologetic shrug he said he guessed it had a short somewhere. He “guessed”.
He said it was always doing that, though. If there was a bad time for it to start tooting, almost without fail it would. For instance, once it tooted at a funeral procession. Then another time it started up when he was sitting behind a long line of cars waiting for the light to change and all he could do was to slowly slide down in his seat. And when he was late getting home one night, he was trying to coast silently into his driveway, and...
Toot. “If you didn't know any better, you'd think it's out to get me,” he said.
So Carlie asked, “Ever think about disconnecting it?”
“Huh,” said Elliott, “Don't guess I ever did. You know how?”
So, overlooking the fact that we wouldn't have had an idea ourselves, Stephan and I were thinking that Elliott had even less common sense than we did, and that's a scary thought.
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As it turned out, the road he'd taken eventually wound its way back to the road we'd been on, so we still had to go by where we'd last seen the Googly Gooks. Not that we were familiar with that road, but when we reached the intersection we saw a sign pointing us back to Highway 6, we thought it might be, and then when we passed by the old barn that was about to fall over, we were sure of it. So we were getting nervous again, even if it had been at least twelve hours since we'd last seen them. It's human nature, I suppose: once you've been shot at, it's hard to convince yourself that they might not be patiently waiting to take a few more shots. I've heard that big game hunters can wait for hours on end, so understandably we were all nervous and when we topped the hill overlooking the field they'd run off into, even though we didn't see their pickup, we ducked down, just in case. Except for Elliott, of course. He wasn't the one they'd been chasing, after all.
But...“Yeah, I can see the tracks,” said Elliott, and then...
That horn really was out to get us. True, it had tooted twice more between the fertilizer plant and there, but they'd been harmless beeps, this time it sounded like a twenty-one gun salute. It's a wonder that we didn't wet ourselves all over again.
So once we were on Highway 21 Carlie said firmly, “Okay. Pull over. You pull over right now, and I'm going to fix your damn horn, all right?”
By that time, though, me and Stephan were sort of hoping he would leave it alone for just awhile longer. Demon-possessed horns are ever so much more interesting than ordinary, run-of-the-mill horns...
But then again, maybe not, because its final TOOOOT!! came just as Carlie was cautiously sticking his head under the hood. Fortunately, Elliott was holding the hood up and not someone else. See, another problem was that the hood wouldn't stay up on its own. So if for instance it had been me holding it up, I would have jumped even higher and we might not have had Carlie any more.
So I guess it's just as well that we disconnected it. And at least we never heard anything like: “Just what do you think you're doing, Dave?” (I have that HAL quote on my computer. So now when you shut it down, instead of the usual Windows chime, there's... well, there's that.)
But to reiterate, even though Elliott had a valid driver's license and was on his way to Canada, we were not thinking about going with him. Even though he had an air conditioner that worked and a half-decent sound system that could be improved easily enough, not for one moment were we considering it, no way!
Although at least he had good taste when it came to music. Mostly old stuff like The Allman Brothers, Jethro Tull, The Grateful Dead and Led Zep – stuff like that – but...
No. Not until he asked if it was okay if he switched over to radio for awhile, just to see if there was anything newsworthy going on at the moment. That's when we first started seeing another side of him. Not immediately, mind you, not when he was asking if we minded him looking for some news on his radio, but...
Well, he didn't find any news, but he did stumble across one of those talk radio shows. So a caller was upset because it seemed as though our government was trying to open a dialogue with some of the more moderate Islamist factions. Why, that was nothing more than Neville Chamberlain at Munich all over again, said the caller. Hadn't history taught us anything? That appeasement simply didn't work?
That's the gist of it, but Elliott abruptly turned the radio off and... “That guy doesn't know shit.” Then to no one in particular, “You realize that Chamberlain had some good reasons to go the route he did, right?”
So being Mr. History Buff, I cautiously replied, “Um... Well, I don't think the Czechs would have agreed with you... and that bit about `peace for our time', that sure didn't last long. What was it, about a year?”
Only Elliott came back with,“Well you know what? The year you mentioned was another year the British had to prepare. Like for instance, radar. If the war had started in `38, they wouldn't have had it, and in the end, radar's what saved the Brits in The Battle of Britain. I'm not saying Chamberlain wasn't engaging in some wishful thinking, but in no way were they prepared for war in `38. And not only that, Germany had some legitimate grievances. The Treaty of Versailles was very one-sided, wouldn't you agree? Sudetenland had been taken away from Germany even though it was predominantly German.”
So I had to admit that he'd made some points I'd never thought of before even if I still had to mention how I probably wouldn't have been overly impressed with them if I'd happened to be a Czech, but that's when we first started seeing him as someone other than just a victim. Once he started relaxing a little, we had a lot of fun talking. He wanted to know what it was like living in North Dakota – especially in the winter - and after learning that Stephan and I were New Yorkers, he wanted to know about that as well.
Then we in turn were interested in knowing what it was like growing up in North Carolina. So we were all over the place, talking about almost everything under the sun and the more we talked, the more we liked him.
And besides, he was on his way to Canada already, so there was always that.
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Even if we had some second thoughts about it after he discovered what they had on the juke box at the restaurant. Really old stuff, like Elvis and The Four Tops – and okay, some of it isn't so bad – but that does not include Donnie Osmond's “Puppy Love”. It's only my opinion, but I think it's one of the most awful...
Well, I just don't like it and I'm glad I wasn't alive when it was on the Top 40 list and I'm also glad my parents were probably too young to have ever noticed it because otherwise, they almost certainly would have been weirder than they sometimes are now.
I'm trying to be diplomatic about this. But it seemed as though those truck drivers inside the restaurant had the same opinion. “What is that?” Or in other words, they looked to be ill and they also shot a few glares our way. Because, after all, Elliott was at our table snickering. He has a weird sense of humor. Fortunately though, we managed to talk him out of putting “And they called it puppy lo-oove” on repeat ten times. He wanted it to start just as we were leaving, but we mentioned that being chased down the highway by one or more 18-wheelers really wasn't our idea of fun, and he finally had to agree with us. Good thing, because otherwise we might have killed him.
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At least one good thing came out of Elliott's adventure with the restaurant's juke box: it was while he was checking it out that the wheels for some honest-to-goodness sex that day were first put into motion. Stephan had just gone to the restroom, so Carlie wanted to know if we were still going to introduce him to the bogus cop. It was my call, but... “You're going to chicken out, aren't you?”
So I pointed out the fact that Elliott would be following us.
“Yeah, but he's not going to have a clue about what's going on. And you know that too, so I think you're just trying to back out.”
That's when the idea popped into my head. But wanting it to come as a surprise to everyone, I put on the most inscrutable face I could manage and answered: “Well, okay, but it'll be better if you guys aren't peeking back at us. I mean, we'll be doing... something... and it'll be interesting, and I guess it'll be all right to look once we pass by, because you'll definitely want to see Stephan's expression...”
“You don't peek at us and we won't at you, okay?” said Earl smugly.
So apparently neither one of us would be good poker players. Only by then my little head had mostly taken over.
“Okay, you're on,” I squeaked.
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Once we'd finished eating, we went back to retrieve the Lexus, still nervous about the possibility of running into our enemies again. We'd gone all night without seeing any more of the Googly Gooks, so we could at least hope that the fertilizer plant was out of their territory, but Elliott's friends probably didn't live far away.
Fortunately, though, we saw no sign of them and, except for the bullet hole, the car was still unscathed. So after emptying the two ten gallon gas containers into the tank, we hurriedly changed into some clean clothes while Elliott looked on nervously.
And we did have something else to change into, because part of our time spent shopping in Bismarck had been at a thrift store and we'd found a few more odds and ends at a flea market. So now we were going to wear some of our found clothing, but first, we got naked. We had to, because none of us were wearing underwear. Stephan and I had discarded ours the evening before, while Carlie and Earl hadn't worn any to start with, so if we were going to put on clean clothes, we'd first have to get naked, and that was all there was to it. So we jerked our dirty clothes off and raced back to the trunk.
So there we were, anxiously jumping around telling Carlie to please hurry up and open the trunk so we could get some more clothes on. And I really was nervous - so much so, I was only feeling a twinge down below. Being aware of it jiggling can cause things to escalate in a hurry, but still, I was only at the just-starting-to-get-interested stage. Or at least while I was waiting for Carlie to open the trunk I was, and his had only reached almost-straight-out, but...
“Shit. I just popped another,”remarked Earl.
“Yeah, I did, too,” added Stephan.
“Well, thank you ever so much for putting the idea into my head,” I said.
“You're all hopeless,” said Carlie as he opened the trunk. As though he should talk.
“Hurry up!” hissed Elliott. He sounded awfully anxious, so I glanced back and noticed a very obvious bulge. But still, it was neither the time or place for an orgy, so soon as the trunk was open we were earnestly looking for something to put on.
Okay, I'll admit it. We were all exhibitionists at heart, and we weren't going to allow the specter of Elliott's new friends suddenly showing up to interfere.
And besides, said Carlie, now there were five of us, so if it came to it, we'd just dive into the car and then he'd run over their butts.
At first, I was thinking he had the most advanced case of exhibitionism, because he decided to wear an extra-large Minnesota Twins tee shirt that went about halfway down to his knees. That's all. With no air conditioning, he was going for comfort.
But it was even hotter in the back seat, so I opted for an extra-large plain blue tee shirt. That's all I needed. ( It went about an inch below my knees, though, so the advantage was still in Carlie's favor.)
So Earl grumbled quite a bit, because aside from the dirty ones, those were the only extra-large shirts available, but he finally decided on a pair of soccer shorts. Only they were too small, so he couldn't squeeze into them, (and even if he'd managed it, he'd be holding his breath for 175 miles), so he gave up and instead opted for a tan eleemosynary oryxes tee shirt that came almost down to his waist. That was all, so now it was advantage Earl.
(We knew what oryxes were because of a small herd replicated on the shirt, but not one of us knew what “eleemosynary” meant. I looked it up later and it means charitable.)
(In case anyone is interested.) But meanwhile, back at the found-clothing department, Stephan opted for the hospital gown he'd discovered at the flea market. I didn't have the nerve, but Stephan said to the lady, “That would make a great gag gift,” and in reply she said, “I'll let you have it for fifty cents.”
It was a model not designed with either dignity or privacy in mind. It came down to about mid-thigh, and in back it tied more or less into place but...
Exactly. I wasn't the only one with a cute ass, and this was especially true with his gown on. So I wasn't sure if I could be sitting next to him without getting overheated sooner than I wanted. For more than two hours? I had nothing against all of us overheating, but I was hoping it would start when we were getting close to the bogus cop, and she was still at least 160 miles away.
But possibly if Carlie and Earl didn't start up until we were almost there, then Stephan and I wouldn't be tempted either. And Carlie was driving, after all, so maybe all we needed was a distraction. Like for example, some new music. Earl was naked from the waist down, Carlie and I were in over-sized tee shirts that could easily be reached up into, Stephan was in his hospital gown, and I was still hoping that we could somehow be thinking about something else.
Well, it was at least worth a try, so: “If it's all right with Elliott, I'm going to borrow some of his music so we have something else to listen to, and he can borrow some of ours.”
“Yeah, no problem,” said Elliott hurriedly.
So I was going through his collection when Stephan came running up, which caused Elliott to become even more agitated, and now I was too. It had been more than twenty-four hours since we'd so much as molested each other and not only that, it was still windy.
Then to make matters worse, once we were back on Highway 6, Stephan reached up inside my shirt. So I reached up inside his gown. And then he whispered, “Let's make out a little, you want to?”
So we started doing that and he kissed me, so I kissed him back, only then he stuck his tongue into my mouth. And we were still groping each other, so we just kept getting more and more passionate. I think Stephan is more in rebellion against propriety than even I am, but whatever, by the time he moved down and started sucking on my nipples, I was unable to resist. I guess not, because then he started humping on me. Just between my thighs, but still...
Well, I was really starting to wonder. It didn't feel bad at all, though. Not on my end, and definitely not on his, because it wasn't much longer until he came.
Then after he caught his breath, he wondered if I wanted to do the same to him, and I most certainly did, but...
I glanced up and noticed that Earl was watching us. I'm not sure why I stuck in that no-peeking clause in the first place, because there's a wide space between the two seats up front for the console, but... “I thought you said you weren't going to look!”
“So I lied,” smirked Earl. “It was too much to resist. I hear heavy breathing, I have to look. But don't mind me, just carry on. You two are something else.”
“Yeah, but I got to warn you, you're distracting me,” added Carlie, “you almost made me run off the road.”
“You did run off,” said Earl.
“No, I almost did.”
So I thought about it and finally in reply to Stephan's offer, I said, “Ah hell. For now, I'll just settle for a hand job.”
So Stephan happily obliged while Carlie and Earl were doing the same to each other up front.
Then we went back to being civilized again. Or at least, we were as proper as we could be under the circumstances, because once finished, Carlie and Earl decided to get totally naked, so Stephan and I did as well.
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So okay, we were only a little civilized. Even if for naturists...
Oh, never mind. We weren't the least bit civilized and, furthermore, we didn't want to be. But still, aside from being naked, we just listened to music and watched the countryside roll by, staying well within the posted speed limits. We definitely didn't want to get pulled over. I don't know if it's against the law to be riding in your car naked or not. It would seem that as long as you aren't flashing anyone, you would be perfectly within your rights, though.
So who knows, but at any rate, we rode on and on until finally it was time for me to initiate the most important part of my plan, because at long last, when we were about about twenty-five miles away, it was time for me to start in with the foreplay again.
Originally, my plan was to go down on Stephan. That's what I was thinking about while we were at the restaurant. We'd been talking about doing it in front of Carlie and Earl, and we knew we would soon enough. It only seemed fair, because we'd watched the video I'd taken of them. After Stephan saw the photo of me tied naked to a chair, I guessed I'd let him see what I was filming at the time and we both found it be very entertaining.
So going down on him it would have been all right, and doing it in the back seat definitely would have been a surprise. But then after he started humping on me, that's when I decided on an even bigger surprise. I wasn't going to actually fuck him, but I guessed I could still up the ante a bit. I wanted to slide back and forth between his butt cheeks, that's what I wanted to do, so...
I mean, he could do it to me too. Later.
Back in the Lexus, though, I wanted to drive him out of his mind, so soon enough we were cuddling and then groping and then we were doing some more Frenching.
And so it wasn't long until it seemed that I was making some good progress towards my goal of driving him insane. Only I was in the process of losing my mind again as well. In fact, I think I already had, because there's no way things could have worked out the way I was hoping. It wasn't possible because of the sheer unpredictability of it all. I don't guess things ever will be predictable once you start Frenching, because once caught up in the throes of passion, every last bit of your planning is going out the window and you're going to forget all about your stupid plans.
We had one of Elliott's CDs going, Red Rider's “Neruda”. It's a good 80s album, even if by the time it started nobody was paying much attention to it. But track four is “Can't Turn Back”. So it was no time to go wobbly, and that much almost went off on schedule.
I'd been busily laying the groundwork prior to my cue, but since it seemed as though Frenching could lead to the fireworks going off earlier than I wanted, I decided it was time to turn him over on his stomach, so I whispered, “I'm going to try something else, all right?”
I think he said, “Uh.” But he wasn't resisting. So I flipped him over and down to his ass I went. That was as far as I was going with my tongue though, only on his twin mounds. They were soft and warm and...
Well, I guessed if at some point in the future he wanted to go further, then I would too, but... “At least I can run my tongue down into his crack a little.” So I did and he seemed to be getting ever more caught up in that whirlpool of passion because he was writhing and pushing back... so it was getting awfully close... so I whispered, “I'm going to hump between your butt cheeks, all right?”
Then I kissed him on the side of his face, so he very emphatically nodded yes and away I went and it was wonderful.
Only then it suddenly occurred to me that we'd stopped. The Lexus, I mean, so I glanced up and noticed why Carlie had decided he should pull over for awhile: it was because he'd surmised that it wasn't a good idea to try to drive if he was sitting sideways with the back of his head up against his partially rolled-up window. His butt was up on the console, his feet were on the passenger seat and Earl was between his legs bobbing up and down. We were in the middle of an orgy!
But still, I noticed that “Can't Turn Back” had started, so I was almost on schedule and if not for a complication, it's entirely possible that I could have kept humping, feeling better and better all the way through the tenth track: “Work Out”. It would have been awesome, because if I'd managed to hold out for that long, it would have been for almost twenty-five minutes! Only I also wanted to time it so that we'd both be cumming when we passed the bogus cop and that was unlikely. I don't care how much blind faith I had, it wasn't likely to happen that way, and I was also thinking that it definitely wasn't now that we were pulled over to the side of the road.
But Stephan was enjoying being humped on because after all, I was constantly rubbing across his pucker. And then there's the perversity angle. It's a turn-on. He wasn't being raped, but he was pretending he was. So there was all that plus the fact that we'd both shot off less than two hours before, so it's at least possible that we might have lasted twenty-five minutes, but then I heard somebody yelling, and startled out of our wits, our heads jerked up, and there was Elliott!
Then my mind cleared a little more and I could hear what he was saying. “God damn it, in case you haven't noticed, there's a cop parked right down the road!”
“Oh, shut... the... fuck... Oh shit shit shit... shit!” said Carlie.
So at least we've got that taken care of.
But as soon as Stephan heard the word “cop” his eyes got big as saucers and he started turning pale. And I was fairly subdued as well, because I had no idea we were anywhere near our bogus cop, I thought it was a real one.
Only then in an out-of-breath tone of voice Carlie said, “It's Florence! Where did she come from? ... But she's seen it all by now, so I guess we might as well give ourselves up.” (So I guess she was supposed to have one of those camera drones.)
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About five miles from home, we stopped and changed back into our decent dirty clothes and Carlie finally got his dad on Stephan's phone. Not surprisingly, though, the first thing John said asked was, “Where in the hell are you and why are you just getting around to calling?”
So in reply, Carlie said, “You're probably not going to believe it, but we'll be home in a few minutes and I'll explain then, okay?”
“Yeah, well, it had better be a good one,” said John. But of course, he had no idea just how good it was going to be.
Actually, though, he took the news of his Lexus being shot in the back window fairly well, with a mixture of consternation, amazement, anger and relief. All that, along with occasional periods of disbelief, even if it always came back to something almost exactly like: “You cannot possibly be making all this up.” So his anger was directed at the Googly Gooks, but Carlie still had to go back with his dad almost immediately so they could file a report with the sheriff's department and Earl went with them, leaving me to keep Elliott and Stephan company. Earl could verify Carlie's story, so there was no need in my going.
One really good thing that came out of all that was Stephan finally being introduced to John, even if it was as Elliott's foster-brother. They were on their way either to Seattle or Vancouver. Stephan had an older sister living in Seattle, but he wasn't sure if it would work out, so if didn't, Elliott also had a friend in Vancouver. Either way, though, it would be better than being in another foster home. Then he shrugged and tried to look world-weary, as though he'd experienced more than he ever should have, so John wasn't inclined to ask for any more details. I sure wanted to hear some more, but...
Maybe later.
John did wonder why they were going south on Highway 6 instead of I-94, but when Carlie just said we'd decided to take a different route, he let it go, because the mileage was about the same anyway.
And fortunately he could also accept that chance encounters could as easily be unbelievably fortuitous as they could be horribly fateful. Or at least, he said as much, so no problems there either, because Elliott and Stephan might have saved our lives. They just happened to be sleeping in their station wagon on the side of the road when we walked up on them on our way to wherever the next gas station was, so they were welcome to stay until Carlie could fix all or most of their mechanical problems. (Aside from the horn, the turn signal didn't signal, there was a leak in either the power steering line or in the pump, the windshield leaked whenever it rained and it needed a tune-up. And Carlie was also sure several belts needed to be replaced as soon as possible.)
There was plenty of room at Earl's, so that's where Stephan – and me – and Elliott would be staying at night, but for awhile, we guessed we'd just hang loose at Carlie's.
It was three and a half hours to Mandan, and possibly the same amount of time to get back, because how long it took to get back depended on how it went at the sheriff's office. If John left thinking that they weren't taking it seriously enough, they could possibly be back in two hours, because Carlie said whenever he was pissed he always drove a lot faster.
So there and back would probably be about six hours, plus the amount of time they spent waiting to talk to someone, plus however much time it took to explain everything without Carlie losing his license to operate a farm vehicle in the process. They left at around 1:30, so it seemed likely that they'd be back no sooner than midnight.
Earl said since they'd be getting back late, he'd be spending the night with Carlie, so Stephan and I were welcome to use his room. He had a small bed, nothing more than a cot, but we were sure we'd find it to be adequate. We were looking forward to it, in fact.
Only, what were we to do with Elliott? We couldn't just leave him by himself all the time, that wouldn't be very nice. Almost always, we tried to be considerate. Once it was time for us to “go to sleep”, he'd be on the couch downstairs, but until then...
Well, we'd think of something.
Five more from our play list, okay? I mean, you still don't have to pay any attention to it, but if you do and then don't care for any of them, blame Elliott.
Even if I like them.
Simple Minds-- “Up On A Catwalk”.
Catholic Girls-- “Boys Can Cry”
Can-- “Vitamin Q”
The Strawbs-- “Deadly Nightshade”
Camper Van Beethoven-- “Take The Skinheads Bowling”
That last one might have helped a little with the Googly Gooks.
Probably not, though.