Swimming with
the Dolphins

Section 6

Excerpts from Grandfather’s diary in April and May of 1936, 1937 and 1939:  Like lemmings returning to the sea the Hearns and Hudsons returned to Captiva in 1936, 1937 and most recently in 1939. Each year we found a few more people on the beach and few more cabins under construction. Cabins were being built closer to ours and bigger houses were visible further down the beach toward Blind Pass. A wider, shell-covered trail snaked its way from the Blind Pass to the north end of the island. The pier at Roddy’s has grown into a dock where you can fish without a boat. The 1938 journey to Capitva was like other years except for the rain which fell much more.

The Hudsons came from New York, we came from Philadelphia and the Cosgroves from Annapolis, Maryland. The Cosgroves stayed with their grandparents who I first met at Mrs. Hudson’s funeral service. The Cosgrove kids changed our social structure. It was harder for Todd and me to sneak off to our hideout. Mother said we were being rude to Bill, Mike and Anna. Bill was 14. He was always carrying a book around. He kept to himself. Mike was 12 and Anna was 11 when we first met them in 1937.

Peggy invited her friend, Melissa, the first year. We didn’t have much to do with them except on rainy days when we played card games at one house or another. Myra did most of the island cooking but she had a lady helping her. I think the lady was an Indian. There was screening around the picnic tables and there were more tables.

Uncle Peter did not come with us in 1937. He was in Central America on a coffee buying trip. According to Father he had stayed for two months last year to finish the new addition. All we had to do to was some painting which Father planned to finish. The new furniture was in crates in Ft. Myer when we arrived so for the first night I slept on a cushion on the living room floor. Father painted the bathroom the following day while we waited for the furniture to arrive. Father and Mr. Hudson put the beds in the two small bedrooms. The double bed was moved upstairs. Even with the addition the cabin was much smaller than our house in Radnor.

At the top of the landing was Mother and Father’s bedroom. Turning slightly to the right was the bathroom with regular items except it had a large walk-in shower rather than a tub. Down the hall were two more bedrooms. Jake and I slept together and Peggy had her own room. I didn’t think it was fair but whenever Todd slept over Mother put Jake in June’s other bed.

Everyday someone asked about swimming with the dolphins. As we paraded up and down the beach we tried to entice the gray submarine mammals to come in closer. We discussed what it would be like riding in a giant school of dolphins. We were ten days into the 1937 trip without success. Finally after constant pleading our fathers took nine of us including Jake to Blind Pass to see if the dolphins would come close enough to touch or ride. The boys got in deeper water than the girls who were scared as we thought they would be. After minutes several gray torpedoes circled. I got a nudge then felt a tail brush by me. Todd and I told Mike and Bill how important it was to stand still until the dolphins were ready to make contact. The first ride I got was as exciting as my first ride last year except this time I had a swimming suit on.

We rode and played for more than an hour. There was much squealing and splashing. Everyone got to ride including Jake. When Jake grabbed hold of his dolphin’s dorsal fin no one told him to let go when the dolphin took a dive. The first time Jake’s dolphin took a dive Jake went down with him. It seemed like five minutes before he surfaced. The fathers swam furiously in his direction. He sputtered a little but didn’t seem scared. The adults acted terrified. The girls got used to riding even though they didn’t hang on as long as we did.

Two days before we were going to leave Mike, Todd and I decided to hike north to the end of the island on an unusually hot, sultry day. The girls did not seem interested. Bill announced that he was joining us. Having someone a little older seemed to give my mother some comfort. I don’t know why she felt that way. We were told that the currents in the north channel were strong like those at Blind Pass so we were not allowed to swim.

Soon after we started walking no one had their shirt on. Shoes were a must because unshod feet bottoms would be cut to shreds by the shell shards. Todd and I told Mike earlier that we might go skinny dipping. He told us he couldn’t because he was Catholic. Todd and I were sure it was because he was too shy. With Bill along I didn’t know if we would or not.

The beach made a gentle curve and we were soon out of sight of the cottage. Todd and I decided it was the time to shed our suits and shoes and cool off. Bill and Mike stood there watching us. After conferring they stripped. Mike came in the water with us but Bill walked toward the channel. We yelled that he wasn’t supposed to swim but he dived in and started swimming toward a small island to the north. He was quickly pulled out into the channel. I was concerned he might drown. Mike and I called for him to turn around. Mike, Todd and I were at the edge of the water watching him. I smiled looking at my buddy’s butts which were totally white attached to totally browned legs and torsos.

We didn’t take our eyes off of Bill who finally did turn back. We could tell he was struggling against the current but we kept encouraging him. I walked in the water to be closer to him. My legs were pulled by the surging current. If he really couldn’t get closer I wasn’t sure I could save him. Bill finally reached for my outstretched arm with what seemed like his last stroke. I pulled him close to me. He put his arms around my neck and I swam backstroke as he floated on top of me. We bumped and occasionally I got a mouth full of water. We finally got to shallow water. Exhausted but happy we flopped down on the sand. I was tired but conscious that our dicks were sticking straight out. I said out loud, “How could I get a hard on when I’m exhausted?”

Todd said, “Me, too.”

Mike said, “I was scared. Thanks for rescuing dickhead”

Bill rolled over on his back for us to see his dick. His dick grew out of a patch of soft brown hair between his legs. He was much bigger than we were and his sack hung down between his skinny legs. He didn’t say anything while he exhibited himself.

We forgot that twenty minutes earlier Bill almost drowned. Now he was showing off his manhood for the three of us. Mike suggested we begin to walk toward our clothes. I didn’t move nor did Todd so our actions voted down Mike’s suggestion. Bill said, “While ago I felt funny undressing in front of you. I was sure you guys would look at my dick and laugh at how big it was.” He continued after a pause, “That’s why I started swimming to the island.” We watched and didn’t say a word as I marveled at his stiff dick pointing at me.

Bill smiled as he rested on his elbows, “This afternoon I got really scared. I really appreciate you coming to help me.” He paused as he playfully flipped his dick against his stomach. “I get hard when I am not doing anything. Like now I never know what to do when I get hard at school. It is so embarrassing. Does that ever happen to you?”

I blurted, “You kept brushing up against me when I was swimming you back. That caused me to shiver. I was so relieved when you reached me.”

Todd jumped in, “I’m like Bucky. I was scared.” As we continued talking our dicks returned to their normal positions except for Bill’s. He was basking in the attention.

“Sometimes I wake up in the night and find my hand wrapped around my hard dick. Does that ever happen to you?” Bill said with an authoritative tone. We smiled and nodded affirmatively. “Sometimes I wake up and find my bed wet.” We laughed nervously. Bill continued, “I don’t mean I wet my bed. I bet you guys don’t know your dick shoots white pee sometimes.” There was more nervous laughter.

Mike said, “What do you mean?”

“You can masturbate and make it happen.”

Mike jumped up and started to walk away. He shouted at Bill, “You are disgusting. It is a sin to masturbate our priest told me.”

Bill called after him, “You don’t even know what masturbate is.” He slowed, turned around and returned to our circle. Bill took his dick in his hand and slowly rubbed it back and forth. Our eyes were fixed on him as he rose to his knees. He leaned back and with a moan a stream of white pee shot out until it was dripping from the tip of his dick. We clapped our approval until Bill said, “You try it.” We tried. Todd and I agreed we felt a trembling but nothing came out. Mike got a little watery pee to come out but agreed he felt the trembling. Bill interjected, “Don’t worry it will happen.” Bill jumped up and ran down the beach toward his clothes. We started pelting him with sands and shells. He dove into the water and we followed him.

Nothing more was said about Bill’s demonstration as we put on our shoes and started our procession back. The sun was dropping by the time we got close. Rain drops were falling. We almost walked up to our front door before we put our wet shirts and suits back on. Bill had become part of our group.

After Bill and Mike walked away, puzzled Todd asked, “Why couldn’t we do what they did?”

“Either we aren’t mature enough or it is because we aren’t Catholics.” We laughed and hugged each other and headed off in different directions.

We came in 1939 and things were different. The Cosgroves were there without Mike who was with his other grandparents in Mexico. The Hudsons came without Mr. Hudson who was in San Francisco but was trying to get to Captiva for our second week. Uncle Peter was already at the cottage when we arrived. He was there with his buddy, CeCe. They had taken the room that was normally Jake’s and mine. Jake had a place in June’s room. I was told I would sleep in Todd’s loft.

The adults talked incessantly about Hitler and the threat of war in Europe. The conversations were punctuated with “Will Hilter invade Poland? I wonder if he will move on Austria.” As Todd and I walked on the beach the first day I asked if he minded if I slept in his loft. He was happy so I slept at Todd’s. Peggy spent most of her time taking care of their new baby sister, Nora. Nora had been born right after the Hudsons returned to New York last year.

Todd and I would get up early and swim with Uncle Peter, CeCe and sometimes Father. We loved when they threw up in the air. Uncle Peter told us he couldn’t throw us because of his bad back. We still horsed around with him. Toward the end of our first week Uncle Peter organized an overnight fishing-camping trip to Johnson’s Island. We rented three motor boats for four men and four boys. Father and Mr. Cosgrove were preoccupied with war talk and didn’t pay much attention to the rest of us. Uncle Peter organized the camp, planned the meals, and gave orders. We were happy to be away from the girls. We didn’t have to wear clothes if we didn’t want to.

On the second afternoon Bill, Todd and I were sitting on beach towels throwing shells into the surf. The breeze was cooling as the blazing sun moved across the sky. Uncle Peter came over to us and said, “Your favorite swimming suits, I see.”

I snapped, “Yours looks like yours is a little worn.” I ran and he chased me. When I slowed down he caught up. I realized that I was taller than he was. We were wrestling and I was winning. Bill and Todd ran after us cheering. I turned and tackled Bill as Uncle Peter grabbed Todd pushed him toward the surf. We were a gaggle of naked flesh all over each other until Uncle Peter got a cramp in his thigh. He hobbled out.

As he flopped down he noticed Bill’s hard on. With a smirk Peter said, “Did you have a good time?”

“What do you mean?” After taking a quick breath Bill softly added, “Sure,it was a good time.” I had seen Bill with a hard on many times. If seemed like he got hard for any reason and no reason. Uncle Peter leaned back on his towel and motioned for us to sit down. “Bucky, do you remember me telling you about my trip back to Captiva after CeCe and I returned from Havana.” I remembered but he continued to tell the story. Both Todd and Bill looked intently at him as he recounted his time in Key West twenty years earlier. I listened and didn’t interrupt. CeCe sat close and draped his arm over Peter’s shoulder.

Peter’s speech pattern was Philadelphia but his pronunciation and phases reflected fifteen years living in New Orleans. His soft brown hair covering his ears was turning gray. The hair on his head like the thick hair over his trim body was sticking to his skin. He dropped back on his left elbow as his right index finger traced an outline of Cuba. He had completely captured Bill’s attention who was in a trance. Todd and I rolled over on our towels ready for a story. CeCe lay with his head in Peter’s lap. Todd and I looked at each other and smiled.

Bill sat close to the pair. Peter’s facial expression suggested he was on the ship he was telling us about. “It was Flag Day and the American flags slowly moved in the Key West humidity. We had sailed overnight from Havana.” Brushing CeCe’s hair with his hand he said, “CeCe and I drank great quantities rum and stayed up all night on the crossing from Havana. We made sure we drank all the rum we had.

“We were sticky and hot. We started toward the customs house. A sailor with biceps the size of melons took my letter from Mr. Chandler glanced at it and handed it back to me.”

I interrupted Uncle Peter, “Bill and Todd, you know CeCe and Uncle Peter worked for Mr. Chandler who owned the import business that father and Uncle Peter bought.” Peter corrected me, “Bucky, only partially bought.”

He continued, “As CeCe and I walked toward an extravagantly dressed woman. Her droopy eyes were decorated with heavy mascara and long eye lashes. She was dressed in sky blue chiffon, floor length evening gown accented by crystal sparkles in the morning. She wore extremely wide brimmed hat trimmed in white netting covering her face.

“CeCe and I walked toward her. I said something like, ‘Madam, do you know of a place for CeCe and me could sleep?’ In a southern sappy slur she said, ‘Well, honey, you can sleep with me.’”

We all laughed. “She smiled at us and turned her ample self, twirled her blue parasol and cooed, ‘Follow me honey. I’m Miss Miriam and who might you be?’ We followed her and with every step we got more drenched in our own sweat. We walked slowly for three or four blocks.

“Miss Miriam stopped at a gated entry. She pulled on a brass handle that swung from a delicate chain. A short Negro man appeared to open the gate. ‘Harvey, the boys come to visit,’

“Miss Miriam led the way. We brought up the rear with her assuming we were going to stay with her.

“I vividly remember that the dark front hall had a damp, musty smell. Miss Miriam slowly loosened her left glove finger by finger and pulled it off slowly. This was repeated on her sun-spotted right arm. She proceeded to remove two lethal hat pins from her bonnet. Her long slender fingers reached up to the far flung edges of the hat and lifted it up revealing mounds of white woolly hair decorated with a tortoise shell comb. She pulled the comb away swaying her head from side to side as her hair cascaded onto her shoulders.

“Boys come onto the porch for some iced lemonade.” Peter proceeded to relive the entire time he and CeCe spent with Miss Miriam. He told us about meeting with Ernest Hemmingway and a crazy party where he was introduced to wicked white powder. CeCe didn’t interrupt once as Peter told in detail about their Key West escapade.

I asked, “Weren’t there pictures of famous people with Miss Miriam?”

“Bucky, you were listening. The walls up the stairs were covered with photographs. There were images of one famous person after another standing with Miss Miriam. On the landing there was a picture of President Theodore Roosevelt and Miss Miriam. The caption read: ‘Miriam, Thank you. Gratefully, T.Roosevelt.’

“I will shorten my story but tell you one funny thing that happened. The first hot, sticky afternoon CeCe and I lay naked in bed ready to sleep. I noticed two women standing in our doorway. I grabbed for a sheet leaving CeCe completely uncovered. He said, “Disculpeme! Por favor,” got out of bed and walked straight toward them and closed the door in their face.

“Later Harvey knocked informing us that Miss Miriam was waiting for us on the porch. He handed us two light dressing gowns. CeCe said, ‘Well, if the lady beckons we will honor her request.’ We were standing when Miss Miriam came onto the porch and enthroned herself in a high backed white wicker chair. She admonished CeCe and I to take a seat as she began to serve tea. She smiled as she looked at me and said, ‘With or without?’

“With,” was my reply. We sipped our tea sitting on the white wicker sofa whose pillows collapsed as we sat down. Modesty was virtually impossible. The ladies who we had informally met at our bedroom door had an eye-full.” At that all of us laughed. I was losing interest and began to scan the surf for dolphins.

. Uncle Peter seemed to love telling his story. But the group was getting restless and he could tell he had to do something different. He concluded, “CeCe and I had five spectacular days at Miss Miriam’s. Each day I felt self-imposed pressure to leave the candle lit dinners and dusty streets of Key West and return to the construction site of Mr. Chandler’s ridiculous cabin. CeCe and I reluctantly acknowledged we had to get going.

“Miss Miriam insisted that she honor us with a dinner party on our last night. Miss Miriam’s escort was a small wiry man named John Dos Pasos. He was a writer and the reason Hemingway stopped in Key West on his way back to Chicago. Hemingway and his companion Pauline talked about the house they were going to build. “Dos Pasos peered at CeCe and me as if we were sitting for a painting that he was sketching in his mind. Harvey called us to dinner at seven. As we entered the dining room to be seated we were joined by two older dandies whose effeminate nature put me off. One man, George, was introduced as a Flagler. I came to understand his family owed a great deal to the Florida’s railroads. His companion Barton smoked all the time at the table oblivious to Miss Miriam’s disgust. “ His story had taken so long that dusk had descended. Bill said, “Whoa, you met Hemmingway and Dos Pasos! What a trip? Are you and CeCe a couple?” Bill stated the obvious but no one had actually asked the question before. There was a long silence.

Uncle Peter’s voice was soft when he answered: “CeCe spends his time between Havana and New Orleans so we don’t get to spend as much time together as we would like.” I looked up to see our fathers approaching. Peter added, “I had a reason to tell you that story but I can’t remember what it was.” I didn’t believe that for a moment. He knew exactly why he was telling us but our father’s presence broke the spell. I was determined to find out more about his relationship with CeCe. Unfortunately it didn’t happen that night.

***

May 7, 1942:  The world was in turmoil after we returned from Captiva in 1939. Hitler invaded Poland and Czechoslovakia. Back at Lawrenceville guys were talking about quitting school to join the army. I was happy to have the width of the Atlantic Ocean separating me from the problems of Europe. I was content to listen to Eric Sevareid and Edward R. Murrow detail the war’s activities on the radio. The war in Europe commanded our complete attention.

Occasionally while lying on my bed I would think about the freedom of Captiva. The cottage was relegated to the back of my mind for the next three years. With the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor Captiva’s white sandy stretches were washed away from my mind. The shortly after Christmas my freshman year at University of Pennsylvania I received a letter from Todd Hudson who was attending Connecticut Wesleyan. He wanted to go to Captiva during spring holiday. He wondered if my break was the same as his.

I had not talked to him since 1939. Mother and Father got a Christmas card every year with news scribbled on the back so I knew that Todd was at Wesleyan and Peggy was attending Skidmore College. The essence of Todd’s message was that Mr. and Mrs. Hudson were taking Peggy and two friends from college along with Nora to Captiva. Todd was hoping that he and I could use the Hearn cottage. I wrote back that I thought it was great idea and my vacation did coincide with his. I contacted Bill and Mike to see if they were available. I called Bill long distance person-to-person at Loyola University in Baltimore.

Bill told me he would be finishing college in the spring and going to Captiva would be a great graduation gift. Since our break was Easter week he said they usually had family things to do so he wasn’t sure he could come. Several weeks later a note arrived indicating that he would be on the Panama Limited on March 20. He hoped that I could catch the same train. He added that his brother Mike had joined the army and did not have leave to make the trip. He concluded by asking if I minded if his roommate from Costa Rica could join us. I didn’t call him back because having one more person was no problem.

Our plans hit a snag when I broached the subject with my father. He immediately said, “No,” before I told him the Hudsons would be there. He asked “Who is going to cook and clean up after you guys?” I thought it was an interesting question since I had not thought it myself.

I said, “We will.”

He snorted and laughed, “Just like you do at home!” After a long pause he said, “Fine.” He called back three days later to tell me that Uncle Peter was planning to be there. He said it would be fine if we came. I went home to Radnor to get my summer stuff. Little was said about the trip because of the Jake and June felt it was completely unfair that I got to go Captiva and they didn’t. Father and Uncle Peter had the contract to provide all the sugar and coffee for the US 5th Army in Europe. They were traveling in Central or South America constantly looking for new sources. I was surprised that Uncle Peter had time to be in Captiva.

I boarded a drab army green coach of the Panama Limited at 3:40pm on March 20 at the 30th Street Station. True to my father’s admonition - “take little”- I had my half filled duffel over my left shoulder as I stepped into the coach. I was shoved from behind and turned to be face-to-face with Todd. We hugged for an extended time. It was really good to see him again.

“What are you doing here?” I sputtered when I regained my balance.

“I got the same letter you got about taking this train. My parents and the girls aren’t leaving for two more days. Peggy has some tests she can’t miss and my parents have some big party tomorrow night so it is just us for a couple of days.” Two hours later we pulled into Baltimore Penn Station and Bill and Carlos, his roommate, appeared as planned. We flipped the seat over after I tactfully asked an older couple to move back five rows. They were not initially happy but I convinced them we would probably disturb them with our reunion.

After we sat facing each other Todd said, “So what’s next?” Todd smiled and slid the neck of a bottle out of his satchel far enough for us to see the neck.

“What is in it?” Bill questioned too loudly.

Todd shushed him with “Shut up, it’s rum. We have to go get Cokes.” I was dispatched to ask the porter for four war-rationed Coca Cola. With a two dollar bill I successfully persuaded him. He said he could probably get a couple more. Our partying began in earnest. We drank our drinks until midnight. The rum ran out and so did my strength. I slept on Todd’s shoulder until we stopped in Albany, Georgia.

Carlos, Bill’s roommate, was quiet at the beginning but the rum loosened his tongue. He told us his father was chief of police in San Jose and his grandfather owned many plantations growing bananas and sugar cane. He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket which Bill reached over and took from his smooth brown hand. Carlos didn’t protest and looked like he’d been scolded. Carlos said in his Spanish accent, “OK, OK, I will be good.” Carlos curly black hair fell onto his collar which was open exposing a large gold cross.

When the train pulled into Ft. Myer two days later we needed a shower. The air was hot and humid as we climbed down onto the platform. We knew no one was on the island yet. We planned to take a taxi to the ferry that crossed to Sanibel Island. We figured we would get to Blind Pass and walk the rest of the way if necessary. The plan avoided hiring a launch which would cost $5 apiece. Everyone, except Carlos, was carefully managing their money. Our planning was not necessary because on the platform stood Uncle Peter and CeCe. My mind raced back to the story about Key West and knew this man was more that Uncle Peter’s friend. I was determined to find out more on this trip.

Uncle Peter said, “I was expecting only three of you. We are to be guests of Mr. Chandler.”

“But didn’t he die about ten years ago?”

“Bucky, you’re right.” I must have noticeably flinched and he said, “What’s wrong?”

Laughing Todd blurted out, “He’s not Bucky anymore. He’s Rob.” Everyone laughed. Uncle Peter corrected himself smiling. He said that Mrs. Mason, Mr. Chandler’s housekeeper for over thirty years, had invited us to be her guest overnight before heading to the island. The spotless 1919 Buick was there to drive us to the house. The car was in mint condition. We were in awe of its size and all the chrome on the exterior. Uncle Peter drove to the dowager on McGregor Avenue where he and my father stayed 23 years ago on their first trip to Florida. The house was freshly painted with wicker furniture visible on the porch as we drove into driveway.

We learned driving to the house that Uncle Peter stayed at Mr. Chandler’s house when he came to Florida. Mr. Chandler asked him to be the unofficial executor of the property because the Chandler children had no interest in the house but he didn’t want to sell it either. In exchange Uncle Peter could use the house whenever he was coming and going from Captiva.

Mrs. Mason greeted us at the front door. Her gray hair was tightly drawn away from her face. A few fly away wisps floated around her bright blue eyes. She wore a soft pastel cotton dress that hung from two straps on her shoulders. The dress flowed down like an Indian teepee. She smiled at us and softly cooed “Come in.” We politely walked past her into a cool, dark hall and stood waiting for further instructions.

She led the way upstairs. The sun porch was inviting to the four of us. Uncle Peter was in a room down the hall with CeCe. Mrs. Mason excused herself but not before telling us that lunch would be at 1:30. We stripped to our underwear for a few minutes before showering. We drew straws for the shower queue. The atmosphere was like our fraternity house at school with people running around in underwear and towels wrapped around their waists.

Uncle Peter and CeCe announced that they were going to get provisions for the cabin. Peter asked, “What do you like to eat and drink?”

Smart ass Todd yelled from the bathroom, “Rum and Coke!” I scowled and yelled back at him, “For you only Coke.”

He retorted, “OK, OK.”

Peter said, “What else?” He received orders for enough food to keep an army going for a month. He finally retreated, “I got it, OK, no more.” He and CeCe went down the stairs. After everyone had showered we lay on our beds as the big overhead fan slowly dried the water and sweat from our torsos. By 1:00pm our stomachs were growling. We went downstairs as a group looking like the college boys in white pants, blue or white short-sleeved shirts and white tennis shoes or sandals. I timidly walked around the sweeping porch. I presumed that it had not changed since Mr. Chandler and Uncle Peter first walked on it.

Lunch was delicious with fried chicken and fried fish, plantain chips and fresh fruit. I couldn’t believe that the people in Ft. Myer thought much about the war that was raging overseas. After lunch we walked over to Mr. Edison’s laboratory. It was locked but we could see soldiers inside on the grounds. We speculated that secret war related experiments were going on. We walked to town. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Uncle Peter and CeCe joined us for dinner which was preceded by tall red and orange drinks served on the porch. We dressed up for dinner as much as we could. It felt like we were honoring the memory of Mr. Chandler. In the dining room the candle light washed the room with a soft tangerine glow. Each place was set with china, crystal and polished silver. There were three crystal goblets by each plate. The first with a short stem was filled with water. At the head of the table where Uncle Peter sat was a bottle of red wine on a coaster. There was another bottle near CeCe at the foot of the table. We sat in the side chairs.

An excited hush filled the room as Mrs. Mason slowly moved through the swinging café doors. On our table she placed platter after platter of Southern dishes. The food was intoxicating but not as much as the atmosphere in the room. We drank plenty of wine. We jumped as one loud clap of thunder was followed by a flash of lightening. Everyone laughed. Uncle Peter told of the first night that he and my father stayed with Mr. Chandler. He quietly recounted their naked march from room to room closing windows followed by their naked general, Mr. Chandler. We laughed.

The wine kept flowing until 11:00 or so. We went upstairs to Todd’s humming 'When Johnny Comes Marching Home'. We began singing with him and marched around. The wine was having its effect and eventually we were marching naked single file behind Bill. He decided he would lead us downstairs to the porch where CeCe and Peter were drinking brandy and smoking cigars. I thought he was crazy but I followed the bare butt brigade down to the porch. They looked up and seemed to be carefully examining the products of the higher education system in a time of war. Simultaneously they raised their glasses and proposed a toast to victory over Germany and the Japs. Bill led our retreat and commented once we were upstairs. “Did you notice how they looked as us?” I had.

The launch pulled away from the dock at 8:30am. Mrs. Mason fed us and bid us a safe visit. We politely responded even though our heads were feeling the negative effects of too much wine. Uncle Peter drove our loaded launch of six persons and supplies toward Captiva. Even with the war going on things seemed normal with eight or nine people standing on the dock fishing. When we arrived we loaded our supplies and clothes into the bed of an old Model T truck and walked up the road.

We proceeded to open all the shutters and windows. We checked to see that the screens were in tightly. The cabin had been vacant since the preceding September. A layer of salty dust covered the furniture. I got a bucket of water and rags to clean. Uncle Peter checked the cistern and it was full. We were soon sweating so we shed all but the essentials. Peter stripped and headed for the Gulf of Mexico.

Todd and I were not that bold. We stopped at the water’s edge to look right and left before dropping our boxers. There were a few people visible but too far away to matter. We ran into the water followed by Carlos and Bill. CeCe held back a respectable length of time before dropping his shorts in the sand. Bill and I were watching him. My suspicion was confirmed. His long, brown dick was hard and sticking straight up. Bill said, “What are you thinking?”

“You remember the camping trip three years ago?” He nodded. “Peter was telling us about Key West.”

“Do you think there was more to the story?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you think it is unusual that your Uncle and CeCe quickly claimed the room with the double bed? I think you know what it means.” I didn’t respond immediately instead I swam toward the group. I could see that CeCe had saddled up to Carlos. Carlos was physically in good shape with well defined muscles. His black hair was wet and pushed straight back. CeCe was wrestling with Carlos. He pushed Carlos under water. Carlos came up on top of him. The splashing and wrestling went and everyone got in the act of pushing and shoving. The pressure of school, the war and the rationing seemed to disappear. We were being little boys. Bill noticed that the truck with our stuff was pulling away. Roddy and his helper had unloaded the luggage and supplies. Bill yelled, “I’m starving.”

“Me, too,” was the uniform response. We staggered out of the water laughing and shouting. CeCe had his arm around Carlos, Bill, Todd and Uncle Peter followed. The craziness didn’t stop. I pulled on my boxers that were lying on the sand. Todd grabbed a towel to cover himself. No one else even bothered.

Once inside we took our duffel to our rooms. I took the bunk beds with Todd. Bill and Carlos took the other room. After pulling on some khaki shorts I went downstairs. Uncle Peter was sporting white Bermuda shorts as he unloaded the provisions. Four bottles of rum prominently sat on the counter next to two cases of Coca Cola. He yelled and turned, “Rob, oh sorry I didn’t see you. Why don’t you go over to Roddy’s and get ice. I forgot to tell him to bring that. I turned on the icebox but it will be tomorrow before it gets cold enough.

I called upstairs to Todd. “Do you want to go to Roddy’s with me to get ice.”

“Sure. “ Moments later he appeared in swim trunks and an undershirt. In the three years since we had been together he really changed. He was almost as tall as I was and his chest had filled out. He was covered with silky blond hair accenting his deep brown eyes. We started walking and I said, “Todd have you noticed anything unusual about CeCe?

He looked quizzically, “No.”

“Todd, you haven’t changed. You miss the subtleties.”

“What’a do you mean?”

“Bill and I think that CeCe is queer. He won’t leave Carlos alone. Did you see them in the water?”

Todd shuttered noticeably, “He touched me, too, in the water. I mean everywhere.”

“Bill and I want to hear the end of the Key West story.” Todd seemed to vaguely to remember. I then took a deep breath, “Todd, Bill and I think Uncle Peter may be the same way.”

“Anything is possible these days. Does it bother you? He is a great guy.” I didn’t speak and thought about what Todd said.

CeCe and Carlos were sunning in the lawn chairs as we carried the dripping ice into the cottage. They were speaking rapid fire Spanish and neither of them acknowledged us. Their dark brown dicks were half excited. I nodded to Todd as I opened the screen door. Todd leaned my direction and whispered, “What do you think about that?” I shrugged my shoulders.

Inside Peter was opening cars of spam meat and opening the Holsum bread. Bill opened two fruit salad cans and placed them on the counter. Peter announced, “You are on your own. Fix what you want. He called to Carlos and CeCe who came trotting in. Uncle Peter started chipping ice into four tall glasses when he turned to CeCe, “You want a rum and Coke?”

“Sure, why not.” Peter poured a stout portion of rum and topped it off with Coke. One six ounce bottle did three glasses. I asked no questions because I knew how difficult Coke was to get. We took our sandwiches out to the picnic table. Uncle Peter slowly unrolled the green and yellow striped awning giving the spiders, lizards and other crawling things time to escape. The southeast breeze was swirling around us.

During a lull in the conversation an older couple walked near the water’s edge. The slender man had silver hair with a well-tanned torso. His wife was heavier and covered in a bright flora patterned swim suit. Uncle Peter intensely looked at the couple as they moved along the shore line. He turned toward us. “That guy looks like Mr.Chandler.” Seeing him reminds me I should tell you how the first cabin got built.

I saw him look over toward CeCe and smile. He started speaking to no one in particular. “I got back to Ft. Myers after a trip to Cuba where I met CeCe. It was late May so it was hot and muggy. CeCe didn’t come to the cabin because he had to go to New Orleans. Bucky, I mean Rob, Mr. Chandler hired me as his construction superintendent. He told me what he expected me to do. My trip to Cuba was supposed to have been three weeks and ended up being six so I was really late returning to Captiva.

“I came from Key West on the coastal steamer. Mrs. Mason welcomed me as if I had left yesterday. After I showered she fed me in the kitchen. She handed me a pile of Western Union wires and a couple of letters from Mr. Chandler and one from my mother. I chose to open the wires in reverse order to see how mad Mr. Chandler was. To my surprise the last telegraph started, “PETER, EXPECT THE ROOF TO BE ON BY NOW. STOP. CALL IF YOU NEED MORE MONEY. STOP. SEE YOU ON JULY 3. MR. CHANDLER. STOP.

“I was relieved and set about reading the rest of my cables. The letter from my mother told me that the information regarding registration at the University of Pennsylvania had arrived. She wrote that she sent the pertinent forms back. Her letter was a reminder that I would be coming home for school in the fall. I was dreading telling them that I had decided to go to Tulane in New Orleans instead. “

Either bored or needing to use the bathroom Todd got up. Bill followed him inside. Peter continued not seeming to care who was listening, “Mr. Chandler’s letter had extensive drawings of the inside. He instructed me to find a carpenter in Ft. Myers to building the cabinets. He marked the location of each shutter. He admonished me to check each carton of toilet and kitchen fixtures before accepting them from the railway freight office.

“I wasn’t inclined to go to Margarita’s so I went to bed. The next morning I walked to the city dock to hire a launch to take me to Captiva. I had a few clothes and Mrs. Mason packed a small lunch. I planned to go out for the day and return. I found Mr. Chandler’s launch. The boat’s engine compartment was open. A mechanic had his rear end in the air was trying to reach something down inside the motor. Marcus stood close by.”

“Who is Marcus?” asked Carlos. We took a drink waiting for Peter to answer.

“Marcus was the young Negro boy who drove Mr. Chandler’s launch when we went to Captiva. When he saw me all he said was, ‘I’se here to pick up food but work she not goin’ too good.’ I said, “How soon ‘til we can leave?”

“He squirmed and said ‘The boat won’t be ready ‘til late this afternoon. Master Peter, I mean Mr. Peter, we’es cain’t git ta Captiva and back ‘fore dark.’ I said, ‘Well, pick me up at Chandler’s when you are ready.’ I walked back and waited.

“He came around about 3:30 with boxes of provisions. The trip took about an hour and when we arrived I found the cabin full of junk and cots. The place smelled of piss and stale cigarette smoke. I couldn’t get mad but I had to take a firm hand. I had practiced what I was going to say. This was my first management challenge. ‘Guys we are really behind. What can we do to get things moving?’”

Todd, Ce Ce and I laughed at Uncle Peter as he imitated himself. At this point Todd got up to make more rum and Cokes. No one turned down his offer. Peter cleared his throat, “I was ready for a confrontation with those lazy bastards.” He got up and mimicked a stomp across the deck to the picnic table. He stared directly at me, “Men, I am Peter Hearn. Mr. Chandler sent me out here to get work moving. What do you need?”

“One guy belched loudly and snarled, ‘More and better booze.’” The group laughed again. “I thought the guy might punch me. I didn’t move, gathered my composure and fired back at him: ‘So you need more booze! I’ll see you get it Friday when I pay you.’ I knew I had to keep them on my side. Nothing got accomplished that afternoon because they were too drunk. I took Mr. Chandler’s plans out and figured out what needed to be done. Mr. Jones fixed a delicious dinner. It was no wonder they weren’t working because they were being treated too well.

“Next morning following several cups of Mr. Jones strong coffee the men were ready to work. I described the plan and told them we had three weeks to finish what was barely started. Work went well until Thursday afternoon when the big cross cut saw broke several teeth. I decided to go town to get the men their booze, their pay and a new saw.” His story ended abruptly as he stepped behind a tree to pee.

I yawned because the heat and the rum and Coke were working on me. When Peter he returned he stripped off his shorts and ran into the ocean with CeCe close behind him. I went upstairs to take a nap. About 4pm I rousted myself with difficulty. My body was clammy. When I got out of bed I noticed Todd was in the rack naked sporting a major hard on. Amazingly, I did not have a hangover. I quietly slipped out of the room. The surf was surging more strongly than usual. I braced myself letting the waves wash sand over my toes. My feet were slowly being sucked into the surf.

There was little breeze but no insects. The sky turned darker and darker as a storm approached. A lone dolphin fin moved slowly northward. I decided to try for a ride. About twenty-five yards out I stood on my tip toes. Moments later I felt the brush like a sponge rubbing against my mid-section. I reached for the fin and we swam together. This beautiful animal slowly pulled me touching me in the most sensual way. It was like she was trying to have sex with me. The dolphin would dive and I would let go knowing that she would be back to continue our journey together. I was watching the increasingly dark clouds and occasional lightening. The sky turned from eerie steely to muddy tangerine.

Like an explosion the rain gushed from the clouds. My dolphin friend swam off and I swam to shore. I walked out of the water but not really caring that I was naked. A few people were walking on the beach but no one seemed to notice me. One couple of two men gave me the thumbs up sign of approval. I smiled thinking this is the way it should be.

I picked up my soaked boxers and opened the door. Peter and CeCe were discussing something. My appearance caused a pause and CeCe quipped, “Nice ass.”

“Glad you like what you see. I work hard in the gym keeping my body firm.” I reached for a towel that hung over the back of a chair. I wrapped it around me and sat on the couch next to Peter. Todd stumbled into the room and sat down beside CeCe.

The room was filled with the tangerine glow as the sun slipped low on the horizon. Turning toward Peter I said, “Peter, is like the tangerine glow that filled Miss Miriam’s porch the time you met Mr. Ernest Hemingway?”

Peter smiled, “Buck you really want to know what happened in Key West don’t you?

I said flatly, “You have had a chance to have experiences that I will probably never get to have. Yeah, I’m curious and almost envious. I have read some Hemingway and I want to know more about him and why he liked Key West.”

“Buck, I’ll tell you if CeCe agrees that I can tell you. You must promise never to tell your parents.”

CeCe nodded affirmatively but I saw his eyes glisten as he smiled broadly. He got up and walked over to the kitchen to get a Coke for himself. Uncle Peter repeated the story about the cocktail time with the two of them in bathrobes where they first met Hemingway. He said he was annoyed at Hemingway’s persistent interrogation of CeCe about his family and Cuba. Peter continued: “After the topics of Cuba, the war in Europe, summers in Maine were exhausted Hemingway suggested going to Harry’s Bar. He said, ‘I have pissed more money away in that bar. I think you will like it.’ There was little enthusiasm because it was hot and late. Harvey, the butler, brought out a tray full of brandy and other liqueurs on a mahogany cart and parked it beside the pool. The music from the Gramophone drifted over the yard.

“Harvey proceeded to light kerosene torches around the yard. The tangerine glow returned. I walked over to the cart to find not only booze but plenty of white powder which I guessed was heroin or cocaine.” Peter paused to see if there was a response. No one spoke even though Bill had quietly entered the room and pulled up a chair.

Peter continued, “I must have paused too long and the young African guy came up to me and said, ‘You know what to do with this? Do you want to try it?’ I don’t remember what I said but he proceeded to put the powder on his index finger and slid it under his nose. He slowly inhaled and the powder disappeared. I followed his lead and everything was fine until I inhaled. I sneezed violently. When I regained my composure everyone was staring at me. I didn’t feel anything except embarrassed and assumed I have sneezed all the powder out. Soon my arms were weightless and a halo surrounded each of the torch fires. I remember telling Miss Miriam that I loved the tangerine glow.

“The music got louder. Miss Miriam went inside and didn’t return. She was followed by the two women who we met in the afternoon. Mr. Hemingway rose. Maurice, who introduced me to the white powder, jumped into the pool. He was followed by his friend. The group watched as they seemed to dance in the water. I didn’t want to get my clothes wet and CeCe was thinking the same thing because we stripped and jumped in. Hemingway and the young couple watched for a few minutes before the lady jumped in with her chiffon dress floating over her head. Her husband dropped his shoes and coat and grabbed Hemingway’s arm and pulled him in. Maurice and his friend managed to get out of their clothes. The woman got tangled up in her dress before we could get it over her head exposing the fact she had nothing on underneath.

“Eventually, Mr. Hemingway pulled his large body and dripping beard out of the water. The husband pulled his inebriated naked wife up the pool ladder leaving the four of us to splash around. We made trips to the white powder to replenish the tangerine glow. Maurice grabbed CeCe and began to wrestle but soon were doing sexual aquatics.”

I noticed CeCe squirm a bit to straighten out his obvious, stiffened dick. He said, “Peter, go on. I love hearing the story told out loud.”

Uncle Peter continued, “CeCe pushed Maurice away and came after me. We wrestled then embraced and kissed. I grabbed CeCe and we did a spinning dance before retreating. It was that night I realized how special CeCe was to me.” Peter began to cry and went over to CeCe, pulled him up and kissed him passionately in front of the three of us. I was crying and could see Todd wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. We sat quietly for moments until their embrace ended. Peter looked squarely at me, “Now, Rob you know what happened in Key West.” I got up and hugged him. I liked the feeling of hugging this man.

The atmosphere inside the cabin from that point was completely relaxed. It was like the locker room at school where someone is always prancing around showing off their manhood. The nakedness rarely got a glance from the audience. Later that night Todd and I were walking on the beach. Todd asked the question: “Do you think they are screwing in the bedroom?”

“I guess so.”

“I don’t really care. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to kiss a man?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering. I have kissed plenty of girls and wondered if it is different kissing a man.”

Smiling, I said, “Do you want to kiss me?”

“No, I didn’t mean that but I am curious. I am game if you are.”

We turned toward each other with little more than boxer cloth between us. He put his hands up to my head and pulled me toward him. Our lips touched tentatively at first. He held on and softly pushed his tongue into my mouth. I didn’t move. It was moments before he let go. He grabbed my hand and we walked silently down the beach.

“I liked what we did,” I said to Todd. “It seems strange for two men to be together when there is so much good looking snatch to pick from,” I smirked. “And some is coming tomorrow.”

“Shut up, that’s my sister you’re talking about.” Todd looked at me and smiled, “But one of her friends Melody has a great set of knockers, I mean really.”

“How do you feel about Uncle Peter and CeCe now? I personally feel completely at ease with their relationship. Now I know why he hasn’t married. What I can’t figure out is why he has such good looking women with him when he comes to our house for special events.” Todd shook his head. When we returned to the cabin Bill and Carlos were either asleep or out on the beach. Todd and I stopped in front of Peter and CeCe’s door to listen to the soft snoring sounds coming from inside. I patted Todd’s butt and noticed his dick sticking out of his boxers. I dropped my boxers completely at ease with Todd seeing me in the same state of arousal. We both smiled as we got into our respective beds.

***

May 10, 1942:  As the warm morning sun rose over the beach the shell pickers were busy scratching and digging for prizes deposited by the overnight tide. Todd and I ran from the cottage to the ocean and dove in. We pushed, shoved and splashed each other. We swam out and came back into waist deep water to stand close as the gentle current pulled at our legs. Todd said, “Rob, I hope you and I stay friends forever.” With his arm thrown over my shoulder he gave me a sloppy kiss on the lips.

Stiffly trying not to seem surprised I said, “I hope we stay friends forever, too. Why shouldn’t we?” With that I pulled his dick and gave his butt a pinch. He smiled. “I don’t know. It seems too perfect somehow. Many things can happen.” I grabbed his hand and led him out of the water. I didn’t care that we were naked.

After breakfast Todd, Bill, Carlos and I went to the Hudson cabin to open up the windows and dust before Melody and her friends arrived. We wiped the counters and tables and pulled up the storm shutters. Someone yelled, “Look out the window. I think it is an enemy submarine.” We raced outside to see if we could see it. I had heard of sighting before off the coast of Florida. It was too far out in the gulf to determine if it was an enemy sub or ours.

When we had done enough we went by our cabin for a rum and Coke before descending on Myra’s for lunch. We sat down on the newly screened porch. The conversation turned back to the war a subject we had intentionally avoided. The submarine sighting led Bill to rant with outrage and shock at the Japanese bombing in Hawaii the previous December. We all agreed which led to a discussion of the draft and our chances of being called up.

Todd and I were eligible to be drafted but had not been called by our draft boards. Bill said with a smirk, “I got my notice. I joined a bunch of Baltimore’s potential military inductees for our physicals. My group was 40 guys of all shapes and sizes.” After a swig of Coke Bill paused and then laughed, “We were directed into a large room and told to undress to our underwear. We hung our clothes on a hook than was suspended from the ceiling. Three Negro guys had no underwear on. They were well endowed.” We all laughed.

“We lined up and an overweight Sergeant threw the naked guys a towel and yelled. I knew what was coming after our ears, eyes, nose and throat were checked. We were split into groups of ten and marched into small room before three doctors. We were told to step out of our underwear. A doctor stepped in front of each one of us, put his gloved hand by our balls and told us to cough three times. He had one guy do it twice and then told the guy to step back two steps.”

Blushing Bill continued, “Then it got nasty. The Sergeant barked, ‘Bend over and spread your butt cheeks.’ I waited sensing someone was behind me. The guy next to me let out a scream as the doctor’s gloved finger went into his asshole. When the doctor’s finger slid into my butt it tickled. I was worried my dick would start to get stiff but he pulled his finger out before that happened. The guy he pulled out of line was taken to another room and we didn’t see him again.” The three of us listened intently because getting our draft notices was inevitable. Bill told us he passed but hadn’t heard anything more. He seemed ready to fight. I wasn’t that enthusiastic. We were finishing when a launch arrived with Todd’s mother and little sister Nora, Peggy, Melody and Gretchen on board. I hadn’t seen Peggy for a couple of years and she had grown taller and slimmer. Her brunette hair like Gretchen’s was premed. Melody, by comparison, was totally blond and had a full chest that drew the male’s attention. Mrs. Hudson reported that Mr. Hudson couldn’t leave New York and would be down later. No specific time was mentioned.

Uncle Peter and CeCe walked up and introduced themselves to the group. CeCe proceeded to get into the launch and told us he would be back on Saturday or Sunday. Peter spoke to Myra to let her know there would be a big group for dinner. We walked with the girls to the Hudson’s. The girls were quickly in their bathing suits ready for the beach. They lost interest in their admirers so we walked back to the cabin.

After dinner that first night Melody said, “I want you guys to build a big bonfire.” No one argued and the guys gathered wood by the arms full. The girls decided where it would be built. They picked a spot close to Todd and my old hideout. With a coaching of the damp drift wood the fire began to molder then ignited. Little Nora squealed when the fire sparks started jumping off of the logs. She did a fairy dance as the flames illuminated her face.

Our conversation was about everything and nothing as we gazed into the dancing flames. Melody brought a blanket along because she said she didn’t want to sit where things crawled. She enthroned herself on the leeward side of the fire so smoke did not blow into her eyes. She began to sing “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” in a soft, dreamy uninhibited voice. We encouraged her to sing another. She sang – “Stardust.” Before long Nora fell asleep on Bernice’s lap so Peter carried her back to Hudson’s as Mrs. Hudson followed. They did not return. Peggy turned to me and said, “Rob, do you think we can ride a dolphin?

“Worth a try!”

“When?”

“Why not tomorrow? Let’s try Blind Pass.”

She proceeded to explain to Melody and Gretchen and concluded, “It is really sexy to catch a ride on one those gray torpedoes.” Other than Peggy the girls were unenthusiastic but said they would watch. Carlos, on the other hand, was ready to go immediately. Peggy turned back to Todd and me, “Have you ridden yet?” Todd shook his head but I quietly said, “Yeah, yesterday.”

Todd blurted out, “When?”

“Yesterday when you were in the rack, jerk.” Peggy asked, “Were you wearing the official dolphin riding costume?”

“Of course, what else,” I smiled.

“What costume?” Gretchen naively asked. Everyone else, including Melody, either knew or suspected. No one answered and she persisted, “Tell me!”

When no one volunteered I said, “Gretchen, we usually swim in the buff when we ride dolphins.”

She immediately responded, “Well, I’m not going – not even to watch.” I looked at Todd in the firelight who gave me a grim. The embers were slowly dying as was the conversation. The group dispersed. When we got back to the cabin we found Peter reading Hemingway’s Farewell to Arms and crying like a baby. Bill and Carlos went to bed.

Todd asked Peter, “What’s wrong?” He didn’t respond so we sat down on the sofa on either side of him. He didn’t acknowledge us. I felt awkward and waited for something to happen. Slowly I put my arm around his shoulder like my father used to do when I was upset. He closed the book and leaned against my arm. “Bucky, I mean Rob, you said something yesterday reminded me of Mr. Chandler? Tears welled up in his eyes. “Mr. Chandler was more of a father to me than my own father. I never got to say ‘Goodbye’ to him and it was my own damn fault.” Todd and I didn’t move but Peter got up to get a drink. He drew up a big chair as Todd and I moved closer together on the sofa. I was so sleepy.

He recounted his experience supervising the construction of the cabin before Mr. Chandler arrived. He said, “We made good progress with me living on the island managing the crew and controlling how much booze the workers consumed. I was determined to please Mr. Chandler.” He paused and took a sip of his drink.

I whispered to Todd, “Can you stay awake?”

“Barely.”

Peter continued, “Mr. Chandler was pleased and I was happy. He and his son, Paul, stayed a week and we worked together taking care of details. After they left I stayed three more weeks but it got too hot to do much work.”

“Was the cottage finished when you left?”

“Virtually, the sink for the kitchen hadn’t arrived but the roof was finished and there were screens and shutters on all the windows.” He took another swig of his drink. He restarted, “I didn’t see Mr. Chandler again until the February of my senior year at the University of Pennsylvania.”

“Father said you went to Tulane.”

“I started there but my father threatened to disown me if I didn’t graduate from the University of Pennsylvania.” He continued, “CeCe was in Cuba so my friend, Howard Jarvis, and two girls we knew decided to go to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We were close friends.

“I wrote Mr. Chandler asking if I could see him. He responded with a telegraph insisting we stay at their home. We had little money so I responded that we would. Over strenuous objections of my father we went to New Orleans. We were met at the train station by Mr. Chandler’s driver and taken to their home in the Garden District. Mr. Chandler acted like I was the prodigal son.

“We dressed formally our first night as we joined Mr. Chandler and his family in their baronial dining room to a banquet that included shrimp, Cajun chicken, she crab soup and more. We were served by a rotund, Black maid and her skinny helper. As usual the wine and brandy were plentiful. “After dinner the four of us boarded the streetcar than ran in front of his townhouse. We headed to the festivities. The Krewe parade was crazy but nothing like the private party that Mr. Chandler insisted we attend after the parade. It was obvious the decade of prohibition had long been forgotten in New Orleans. We partied with men dressed like women, women dressed like men and the rest dressed in tuxedos and ball gowns. I danced the Charleston until I thought my legs would fall off. At dawn we took a cab back to Mr. Chandler’s and no one stirred until early afternoon.” I gently nudged Todd who had nodded off.

Peter continued, “We awoke to find fruit and beverages on a table in our room. Our room opened onto a balcony overlooking the lush gardens filled with tropical flowers and plants. I was standing there in my underwear when Marlene came out with her girlfriend, Sandy. We were recounting the activities of the night before when we heard a knock at the door. Howard answered the door. He told us that the maid wanted us to know that lunch would be served at 2:30pm. He also told us that Mr. Chandler wanted us to join him for cocktails at 5:00pm. The idea of cocktails was completely unappealing at that moment.

“Howard and I showered, shaved and met the girls downstairs at 2:30pm. The maid handed me a note which read: ‘Peter meet me alone at my office at 4:00. The chauffer with bring you and we will be back by 5:00pm. Chandler’ I was driven to his office wearing a tie and my seersucker summer suit because that is all I had.

“His office was in a smelly, industrial section near the Mississippi River. The outside of the building was dingy, red brick. But inside the appointments were rich mahogany paneled walls, oriental carpets and furniture that seemed more fitting for a Philadelphia lawyer’s office. Mr. Chandler’s secretary ushered me into his office where I was not only greeted by Mr. Chandler but also his son, Paul. After greeting me Paul started talking in his soft Southern drawl. He said, ‘Peter, father and I have a proposition for you. We would like you to work for us when you graduate. He knows you and I trust his judgment. We want to establish bigger customer base on the East Coast. Father feels confident you can do that.’

“I don’t remember what I said but I didn’t say ‘Yes’. I had no idea what I was going to do after I graduated. But I had never thought of the food and beverage business. I was quite sure my father would not approve.”

I interjected, “So that is how you and my father got into the coffee and sugar business?”

“Your father entered the picture later, but ‘Yes’ that is how it happened.” Peter continued, “Paul gave some further explanation and asked that I let them know in a month. We finished and arrived at Mr. Chandler’s precisely at 5:00. Paul’s wife invited us to a masquerade ball. Unknown to us Mr. Chandler had ordered elaborate pirate costumes. Marlene and Sandy were dressed as provocative wenches while Howard and I wore scabbards and three cornered hats with black feathers. We looked like villains from the high seas. We drove back to the warehouses to what looked like a West Indies brothel and partied.

“We arrived back at Chandler’s about 3:00am and took our partners to bed. We gathered about noon barely sober on the veranda.” He paused and took the last sip of his drink. Even though there was only dim light from the kitchen I noticed that Uncle Peter and Todd’s bulges were showing through the fabric of their pants. Todd shifted unexpectedly and his hard dick popped out of his boxers. We laughed.

Todd inquired, “What was your answer to the offer?

“Well, Todd, after discussions with my father,who did not strenuously object, I wrote Mr. Chandler and accepted about a week later.” A lull occurred in conversation. I thought we could finally go to bed. Instead Peter got up and got a couple of blankets and threw one to each of us. He said, “Let’s go for a walk.” Todd and I both groaned. “It is almost a full moon. A swim will wake you guys up.”

We followed him outside into the night light glow. We walked barefooted in the cold sand. When we reached the bonfire embers Peter put wood on the fire and waited for the branches to ignite. The new wood was roaring in a couple of minutes. Peter said, “Let’s swim.” We followed him into the water up to our balls and then plunged in because of the intense pain. Peter swam into the darkness. He suddenly he reemerged in front of us, “Now you guys are awake so you can hear the rest of my story. Todd picked up one of the blankets we had dropped and wrapped it around our shoulders. Peter stood in the buff warming one side of his body and then the other.

“Peter you are in great shape for being 47 years old,” I said. “Your gut is flat and your chest looks like a barrel. What do you do for exercise? I know you swim and play tennis. Anything else?”

“I’m glad I’m not showing the wear and tear like many men my age.” He struck a weight lifters pose. “I do a little weight lifting but I guess I am lucky.” He smiled our direction and lifted his balls and let them drop. “You guys see why guys and women are attracted to me.” He stroked himself again. I noticed Todd straightening himself. “And I am a pretty nice person, too.” He stepped our direction and sat down on the blanket. The fire was roaring so Todd let the blanket slip from our shoulders.

Todd surprised me, “Peter, how can you love, I mean make love to men and women? Isn’t that immoral? Undeterred Peter replied, “Todd, I have made love to plenty of women. I never found a woman that I wanted to live with all the time. I must admit that I am jealous of your parents because they have you guys and I don’t have any children. I really like being with you guys. I am happy with my decisions. I am financially successful. I have traveled all around the world. I have CeCe as my partner, lover and best friend for more than twenty years.”

Todd pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and invited Peter and I to share it. We huddled together like three naked Indians in some weird ritual. Todd’s interrogation continued, “Isn’t it wrong to be a homosexual?”

“I guess, some people consider it unusual to have sex with someone of the same sex. Even wrong! When I am inside CeCe, which is not often enough, I feel totally secure. He completely accepts me and knows how to make me feel wonderful. We cuddle together. We love physical touching. As I said I have had sex with women but it isn’t as good.

“Bucky, I mean Rob, you remember Martha who I dated for several years. We were great lovers and I almost married her. But she could never understand my relationship with CeCe which I would not give up.

Questions were obvious on Todd’s face. “Do you think my dad or Mr. Hearn know you are the way you are?”

“I am sure they figured it out a long time ago. Todd, we are great friends. I don’t have concerns when I’m with them.”

“Have you had any problems because you are the way you are?

Peter didn’t answer and put both him arms out pulling us closer to him. The contact our intertwined limbs was exotic. Peter answered, “No.”

Todd pulled away and stood up with his penis sticking straight out. “I’m freezing. I’m going inside.” We picked up the blankets and followed him inside. There was an awkwardness because Peter seemed to want to finish his story. Todd stood silhouetted in the dim glow from the light over the kitchen sink. Peter reached Todd’s hand, “Todd, get in my bed and I’ll warm you up. Todd pulled his hand away but followed Peter with me trailing. “I want to tell you one story I haven’t told anyone before.”

Todd climbed on the bed first and propped himself on his right elbow. I lay on my back in the middle with Peter on the other side. Peter reached across and pulled the three of us closer together. Peter propped himself on his left elbow and looked at Todd. “I have had one major disappointment and it was caused by my own selfishness. Mr. Chandler had a serious stroke and was in poor health. Paul called and suggested that I come down. I came within the week and sat with him the first evening I arrived. There were other family members present so the conversation was fairly light.

“CeCe was in town. He and two friends persuaded me to go sailing on Lake Pontchartrain. The weather was clear and the breeze stiff. We sailed far out into the lake with the sails taut. We flew. The tacking back took longer than I expected so I missed the visiting hours at the hospital. By morning Mr. Chandler had died.” As I listened I felt Todd move his body closer to me. He ran his hand over my bare hip and down my leg. He pulled me and with his left arm pulled me into his bare middle. His soft dick was touching my butt which caused my penis to quickly stiffen. His hand was in my butt crack moving slowly up and down. I turned toward Todd and took his dick in my hand. I began to stroke it slowly hearing his soft moans. He took my dick in his hand and stroked it. We increased the speed of our stroking. Uncle Peter lay quietly watching us. Todd reached forward and kissed me on the lips and pulled me into a full-body embrace. My dick was rhythmically moving against his. Subconsciously we timed our rubbing which led to a mutual climax. Sticky white liquid coated our middles but we didn’t move. I felt Uncle Peter pat me gently on the butt. We fell asleep together.

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