THE BROWN MOUNTAIN INCIDENT
A work of fantasy/fiction
By
Charles Baudot
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The medical instrument supply company I work for, told me I
had to be at a customer's plant out of state, by Monday.
They gave me an option of flying or driving. Since I had
relatives in that state, I decided to drive. The
interstates were in good shape, and It wasn't really that
far.
I made reservations at a motel near the plant and took off
early for the assignment the previous Friday. I wanted to
stop by to see a cousin, on the way, to say hello. I got to
her house about 2:00 P.M. I had a late lunch there, and we
talked about old times, family, and the idle chit chat about
how to cure the world's ills'.
It must have been about three hours later, that her husband
walked in from work, and we sat around for another two
hours, talking. I looked out the window and realized that
it was dark. I got up to leave for the motel, telling my
cousin and her husband that I wanted to get set up in the
motel with all the equipment I needed, etc, etc. We said
our good-bye's, and I jumped in the car to go.
About fifty miles down the road, it began to rain. Harder,
and harder. Lightning all around. The wind just about
picked the front end of the car up off the ground, it was so
strong.
"BROWN MOUNTAIN," the sign said when my headlights
illuminated it. Thank goodness. The motel was on the other
side of this mountain about twenty miles. I don't mind
driving, but I get nervous driving through a blinding rain
storm, at night, in the mountains.
My headlights caught another sign. "REST STOP..1 Mi." My
bladder needed a rest and I needed to compose myself. I
pulled into the rest stop and took care of business. When I
came out of the facility, I headed for my car, and almost
knocked over a young lad coming into the rest room.
He was soaking wet from head to toe.
"Excuse me," I said. "I didn't see you."
The kid just smiled and continued on to the rest room. I
scanned the parking lot as I got into my car, but no other
cars were around, Where did the kid come from? As wet as
he was, he must have been standing out in the rain for a
while.
"Wait!" I thought to myself. "This is weird. Where the
hell did he come from? I'll stay here for a while and check
this out."
I waited in the car until the kid came out of the rest room.
Five minutes passed, and I saw him step out of the door.
The rain had slowed down a bit, but not stopped by a long
shot.
I rolled down the window, tooted the horn, and hailed the
kid.
"Son? Son?" I said. "Let me give you a ride home. You're
soaking wet."
The boy came over to the car quickly. I opened the
passenger side door, and he got in.
I reached back into the back seat and pulled an old jacket I
had and told him to put it on. Then I turned a little heat
on in the car. It was summer time, but the rain was cold in
the mountains. I didn't want the kid to get sick.
"What's your name, friend?" I asked, extending my hand.
"Mine's Charles."
"Brandon." He said, in a shivering voice.
"Well, Brandon," I asked, "how old are you and what brings
you out on a night like this?"
I figured he lived close by here. His house couldn't be too
far off the beaten path.
"I'm lost," he said.
"Well I can fix that," I said. "Where do you live?"
"Burlington," was the reply.
"I'm going to Elon," I said. "Burlington is just on the
other side. How the heck did you get way up here?"
"I'm lost," was his only reply.
The trip down the other side of the mountain was uneventful.
The storm had slacked up. I concentrated on my driving and
Brandon appeared to rest.
I found the motel at Elon and pulled in to register.
"Stay in the car, Brandon," I said, "I'll be right back."
With my room key in hand, I got back into the car and moved
it to a parking spot near the room. Brandon got out and
followed me in. I surveyed the room and went out to the car
for my suitcase, etc.
Brandon looked so cute sitting in the chair with my big
jacket around him. His hair looked like it contained a
gallon of water, and his clothes were about the same. They
didn't dry much in the car.
"Come on, Brandon," I said, "Let's get you dried off.
Your''e still cold and we need to warm you up some."
Brandon and I went into the bathroom. I turned on the big
overhead heat lamp that the motel had on a timer, sat down
on the commode and placed Brandon in front of me under the
lamp. I took a towel and started to dry his hair. He was
beginning to look like a human boy again.
"We need to get some of these wet clothes off, my friend," I
said reaching for the buttons of his shirt.
He didn't resist me. He just shook his head in agreement,
and allowed me to take his shirt off. Next, I sat him in my
lap and took his shoes and sox off. I stood him back up and
removed his outer pants. Next came his underpants.
Brandon had never told me how old he was, but from his
lovely, naked, boy, body, I could tell that he was about ten
years old. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a petite soft body,
sporting a little petite scrotum and penis. I turned him
around and started to apply the towel to the rest of his
body. His cute, little crevasse along his bubbly, little
butt, gave me instant arousal.
I couldn't stand it any longer. I wrapped the towel around
him and said,
"Quick, Brandon. There's nothing like body heat to warm a
fellow up. Go in there and jump in the bed."
I found a couple of wire clothes hangers someone had left in
the room and hung Brandon's clothes up on the heat lamp
fixture. I turned the lamp timer up to maximum, closed the
door, and followed Brandon into the bedroom. Maybe I would
get a good head start getting his clothes dry.
Brandon jumped in bed, under the covers, towel and all. I
went over and placed the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the
outside door, and turned out the lights. Then I removed my
clothes and got in the bed next to Brandon.
"We can take the towel off now, Brandon, I said. "We don't
need anything wet on your body now."
I took the towel off of him and threw it across the room.
"Quick, slide over here against me," I said.
Brandon slid over toward me. I put my left arm out, between
the pillow and bed and laid his head, comfortably on my
shoulder.
"Now turn on your left side, friend. We need to get real
close so my body heat will help you to warm up. I don't
want you to get sick from the cold."
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Parts 2 and 3 (end)
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BROWN MOUNTAIN INCIDENT---PT.2
I adjusted his body so that his crevasse was around my hard
penis, as a bun around a hot dog. I pulled him tightly to
me, and placed my right hand over his little scrotum and
penis.
His little butt was warm to the touch around my hard dick,
but his little boy, front end, was cold. My hand would take
care of that. I gently began to massage his little penis,
pulling and maneuvering it, this way and that. Brandon did
not complain, or tell me to stop.
After a few minutes, I began to feel some life in his little
boy dick. Blood was beginning to circulate and warm things
up. Now, there was a more definite shape to the boy's
private parts. One could tell what was what.
I stopped the massage, and cupped my hand over Brandon's
alive, little scrotum, and about, two inch penis. Brandon
let out a sigh, and began to breathe more relaxed. He was
asleep. I wasn't far behind.
I awoke the next morning, from the noise of cars starting
and other guest banging around. I felt something wet and
sticky in my lower area. Apparently, I had a nocturnal
emission during the night. Damn, what a mess.
I removed my hand from Brandon's little private parts and
pulled the covers down to look. A sticky goo was in my
pubic hair and all over Brandon's cute, little, hairless,
butt.
Brandon was still asleep. I rolled out of my side of the
bed and went into the bathroom to start the hot water for a
shower. Then I went back and woke Brandon.
"Brandon...Brandon," I said, shaking his head gently on the
pillow.
"Wha..Huh, mmmm," was the reply.
"Time to get up. We need a bath," I said.
I pulled the covers back from around him, and he sat up.
His eyes got as big as saucers, when they focused on me.
Naked Brandon and naked me.
"You don't have any clothes on," he said.
"You don't either, I said. "That makes us even.... come on,
shower time.
I adjusted the water temperature, then Brandon and myself
stepped into the shower. I lathered him up, with the
wonderful motel soap, and then myself. I didn't tell him
why his little butt was sticky, I just washed that with
meticulous care. Then I washed the rest of him. While
Brandon reveled in the warmth of the shower and washed the
soap off, I washed everything I had.
After I washed the soap off of me, Brandon and I stepped out
and dried off with the towels.
"Feel better, my friend," I said.
Brandon looked up at naked me, and smiled. I felt his
clothes for dryness, turned on the heat light again, left
the bath room and went back over to the bed.
"Brandon," I said. "I want to check you to see if you are ok
now. So I need you to do as I ask. It won't take long.
Ok?"
I walked over to my sample case, opened it, and pulled out a
stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and thermometer.
"Are you a doctor?" Brandon asked.
"No, but I sell this equipment and know how to use it," I
said.
Brandon relaxed and laid back against the headboard of the
bed.
I had Brandon sit up and let me take his blood pressure. It
fell into the range of what a little boy should have. Next
I lowered the towel, put the stethoscope to his chest, and
listened to his heart. It was a little fast, but we had
just come out of the hot shower.
"Ok, friend," I said, "I need you to breathe for me. Lie
face down on the bed for me."
As he was adjusting himself for that, I removed my towel and
got back in bed next to him. I removed his towel so that we
were both naked again. I had him lie face down on top of
me, chest to chest, hip to hip, leg to leg.
I pulled the covers up around us and hugged Brandon, kissing
him on the neck. I placed the stethoscope along his back
and listened.
"Breathe deep, Brandon," I said. "Again...again...again."
There was no sign of mucus from a cold in his lungs. He
seemed to be normal there.
I was getting hard. I could feel my penis rising up between
Brandon's legs. I wanted to stay there all day, just like
this. I kissed Brandon, again. He responded with a return
kiss.
"One more thing, friend," I said. "Then you can go back to
sleep, if you want. I'm going to check your temperature."
I reached over to the table and took the digital thermometer
out of its' case, and pushed the "ON" button. The display
came up flashing "RDY", waiting for a temperature to
stabilize. I reached down and gently parted Brandon's lower
butt cheeks, directly above his little anus. I placed
the tip of the thermometer just outside the entrance to his
anal cavity. It must have been a little cold comparatively,
because Brandon shook a little at the touch.
"It's ok, son," I said, kissing him again.
He got used to it being there, and I began to push the tip
of the thermometer, ever so gently, past the lips of his
anus, into his little anal cavity.
I let the thermometer stay in him for a few minutes, while I
rubbed Brandon's back and kissed him, reassuring him that
everything was going to turn out ok.
"97.7, kid," I said, after I pulled the thermometer out of
his little butt. "I think you'll live."
The words went unheard. Brandon's breathing was light and
delicate. With my raging, hard, dick between his crotch, He
had fallen asleep, lying face down on top of me. I kissed
him again, and closed my eyes, too. I wouldn't disturb him
for the world.
Brandon awoke first. He poked me a couple of times and
called my name. The time had slipped by to 1:00 P.M in the
afternoon. It's a good thing I don't have to be on the job
until Monday.
"Hey sport," I said. "I'll bet you are hungry. Let's get
dressed and go get something. Afterwards, we can go over to
Burlington and take you home."
Brandon was a quiet boy. He never volunteered any
information I had to be the heavy, and ask the questions to
drag it out of him. We got dressed, and headed out for
something to eat.
Lunch filled an empty spot in Brandon and me. It wasn't
particularly good, but it passed for food. We got in the
car and headed for Burlington.
"Now, Brandon, " I said, "what side of town do you live on?"
He raised his little arm and pointed to my left to indicate
North. The kid didn't say much, just
"Franklin Street."
I had no idea where Franklin street was, but Burlington was
not that big of a town. I traveled further into the town
and came upon a sign that directed me to Franklin street.
How convenient? I took the left (North) turn at the
intersection, and continued my journey.
"Where to, my friend?" I asked.
"You can let me out at the next corner, Charles."
I pulled over to the curb at the next corner and stopped.
Brandon and I looked at each other for a few seconds, and I
reached over, pulled him to me, and kissed him on the lips.
Continued next message!
BROWN MOUNTAIN INCIDENT----PT.3
"It's been nice knowing you, my friend," I said. "Take care
and good luck...don't get lost again."
"I won't, Charles," he said, "I'm home now."
The impact of his words had an adverse affect on me. I
almost cried right there, and I didn't know why. Brandon
got out of the car and took off running toward the corner
house. I got over my emotional outbreak and started the car
for my journey back to Elon and the motel. I hadn't been
four blocks, when I noticed a small boy's wallet in my
passenger seat. There was a molded picture of Roy Rogers
and Trigger pressed into it. I knew it wasn't mine, so it
must have been Brandon's. I haven't seen one of those since
I was a kid his age.
I pulled over and looked in the wallet for his address.
Behind a celluloid window, there was a small card with,
"IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN TO:
Brandon Hester, Jr.
914 Franklin Street
Burlington 4, North Carolina"
"Burlington 4, ???" I said to myself. "What the hell was
this. There are postal zip codes today. The old zone
system went out of use over 30 years ago. AWWH shit. The
wallet must have been one of Brandon's dad's old wallet.
I'll go back and take it to Brandon.
I doubled back to Franklin Street and found the corner house
with 914 on it. I got out of the car walked up to the front
door, and knocked.
An older gentleman answered the door with a puzzled look
toward me.
"Yes?"
"My name is Charles," I said. I have a wallet that belongs
to Brandon Hester...does he live here?"
"Come on in, mister," the old man said, "sit down. I have a
story to tell you."
I didn't quite know what to make of it, but I went in and
did as the old man asked.
"Ya see, mister," the old man continued, "my name is
Brandon Hester, SR."
A cold chill came over me.
Mr. Hester continued.
"My son, Brandon, JR., was with a church camping trip up on
Brown Mountain thirty-five years ago yesterday. It seems
that they were hiking or something, when a bad storm came up
and Brandon got separated from the group. There are some
wicked storms in those mountains. They searched and
searched, but couldn't find him. It's as if the Earth just
opened up and swallowed him inside. You see, sir, you're
not the first to come by here returning this wallet.
Tomorrow, the wallet will be gone, and next year this time,
someone will come by here with it to give back to my
Brandon."
I sat there in the man's living room, dumbfounded. Mr.
Hester just told me an unbelievable story. Then he pulled
old newspaper clippings, and obituary listings about the
incident. The date on the newspaper clipping was 35 years
ago, yesterday.
I got up to leave and offer an apology for disturbing him in
this manner.
"That's alright, son," Mr. Hester said, "this happens every
year. Its been happening for twenty years. Ever since the
highway department put that interstate through Brown
Mountain....Good bye, now and take care of yourself."
I went back to the motel and got deathly ill. I could
hardly concentrate, while setting up my display for Monday's
meeting. Hold on tight, Charles.
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"They" said they found me, passed out on the floor. I
didn't show up at my meeting, and I didn't check out of the
motel. I don't remember. "They" say that when "they"
revived me, that I kept telling "them" a wild story. It's
not so wild, is it? I was so anxious for "them" to believe
me, "they" had me stay with "them" for a while....You
believe me, don't you?
I'll show 'em. I'll show 'em that it's the truth. Let me
hear from you. Send me a letter and say you believe me,
PLEASE!...I'm the only Charles on this floor. Send it to
me, C/O East Central State Hospital, 7Th. Floor North, 12
Th. and Broad Street, Richmond, Va. 23212....Thanks.
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THE END OF "THE BROWN MOUNTAIN INCIDENT"
Thanks..for taking the time to read this!
Charles Baudot
Richmond, Va. U.S.A.
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REMEMBER!
This is a work of FICTION/FANTASY!
NO reference to those living or dead is implied.
If you are disturbed by the subject matter and
the implications, you know where the delete
button is.