Date: Thu, 14 Feb 2008 09:23:02 -0500
From: carl_mason@verizon.net
Subject: DENNY LAWRENCE - 2

DENNY LAWRENCE - 2

Copyright 2008 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the author.  However based on real events and
places, "Denny Lawrence" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  As
in real life, sexual themes unfold gradually.  Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl_mason@verizon.net

If you would like to read additional stories by this author, please turn to
the "Authors/Prolific Authors" link at the beginning of the Nifty Archive.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands safe sex.


CHAPTER 2

(Revisiting Chapter 1)

"I will say this [the Baylor rep replied]: If there is a sexual factor, I
don't think it's the only factor that's been chewing up his life.  For
instance, he hasn't suddenly discovered that he's gay and is fighting it.
There's something else going on - and, frankly, I'm not sure what it is.
Frankly, I agree with many of the people who wrote letters for him.
Underneath all that crap, there's a very promising human being.  This IS an
interesting case'."

[Dr. Mahan answered], "One thing I appreciate about your work, John, is
that you never ask more of the data than they give you.  Let's see.  I
think I can accept him next Sunday evening at my place.  With Paul's help,
I'll have his first two placements ready to go.  Ok with you?"

(Continuing Our Story - New Challenges: Road Construction)

Promptly at seven o'clock on Sunday evening, Denny arrived at Dr. Mahan's
home.  They had just settled down to talk when a key was heard in the lock.
As he passed the living room, Sam Porter looked in.  Dr. Mahan immediately
called him into the room, asking Denny if they had met.  "Yes, sir, we
have."  Sam responded with a grin and a handshake.  "Glad to see you again,
Denny.  I see that you're the lucky one!" Mahan immediately interrupted,
asking if Sam's ride to school had worked out.  "Yep, it has, sir.  Phil is
stopping by in about 15 minutes to take me over to the dorm.  I'm totally
psyched!"  "You've earned it, Sam," Dr. Mahan added.  "Now get back to your
room and finish your preparations."  As Sam left the room, the two men
hugged affectionately.

His face showing deep envy, Denny said in a very low voice, "I hope that's
me in not too long a time, Dr. Mahan."  "I hope so, too," the
distinguished-appearing professional replied positively.  "It takes a lot
of work to put your life back together, but it can be done."  "Did I
understand that Sam is moving out of his room?" the youngster asked.  "Yes,
Denny.  He's returning to his university studies, basic expenses paid.  I
hope you will understand, however, that having your own room around here is
a privilege.  While you're earning it, you will be able to spread your
bedroll on a pad downstairs in the basement.  Although it's unfinished,
it's clean, warm, and dry, and there's a bathroom with shower down there as
well.  By the way, when you leave for your first assignment in the morning,
you should take that bedroll with you."

"Yes, sir," Denny acknowledged.  "In the morning?"

"Yep,"Mahan responded.  "You should be out front in time to catch a 4:00
a.m. ride up to Lawton.  They're still pushing that new section of I-987
through some really rough country up towards the Canadian border.  You'll
be gone for five days.  You'll find some work clothes already laid out on
your pad.  Keep me posted.  When you return, lad, we should have more time
to talk.  So...  It's late.  Get downstairs and get a little shut-eye
before you have to be up and around.  There's everything you need in the
bathroom, and the fridge in the kitchen is fully stocked.  Good luck!"
Knowing full well that Denny was nowhere near as "reformed" as his words
and demeanor suggested, the doctor strode across the room, shook hands
warmly with his new charge, and departed upstairs.

Outside the northern New York construction site's mess tent at 6:30 a.m.,
Denny paused, stretched, and breathed deeply.  Breaking into a violent fit
of coughing, he thought, 'Freezing!  What in hell am I doing in this
fuckin' wilderness!  If I had kept my big mouth shut with the rents, I
would have had it all: great wheels, the latest clothes - and plenty of
them - money, the respect of some important people.  And what in hell was I
blubberin' about in that courtroom: 'Oh, Judge, I don't want to be that
way!'  Bull- SHIT!  The question is how to get it back!'

Gathering up his tools, he fell in with other men exiting the tent and
climbing into the back of the construction truck.  When it lurched its way
to a stop in the little valley, they got out and walked lazily towards the
area that they had been clearing the day before.  It seemed that it
continued for hours. Swing that pick!  Sounds of expelling breath, grunts,
an occasional curse... "Ok, you bozos - take ten!" the supervisor yelled.
Trying to catch his breath and calm the spasms in his arm and back muscles,
Denny threw himself on the ground.  "Hey, Whitey... Hey, Sunshine.  You
like kissin' the boss's ass, or do you want to make a little something
while you're here?"  The muscled young blond glared at the street crap next
to him, sneered, and spat, "Later..."  "I wonder if those bastards were
callin' me a fag'?" he mused.  One of the young toughs looked at the
others, smiled coarsely, and spat near "Sunshine's" boot.  Yeah...later.
Back at work, Denny swung the heavy pick again...and again...and again.

That afternoon he found himself on a bridge brigade.  He didn't see the
street toughs - but that was fine with him.  Checking rivets underneath the
new bridge that would span a deep, narrow gorge, he had to sit in a leather
harness as he dangled hundreds of feet above raging water.  When they
reeled him in for the last time, he was so exhausted that they had to help
him out of the harness.  As he lay on his blankets in the tent that night,
he heard a few chuckles and then, "Hey, amigo..."  "Hey, Sunshine."  "You
hurtin', man?"  "Nah," Denny responded and went to put his shirt back on.
"Whoa, bro!" the leader of the toughs whispered as he started to massage
the boy's upper arms and shoulders.  "Lay back and let me take care of
you."  "Oh, God," Denny moaned to himself.  He was so sore...and it felt so
good.  When a second punk began to massage his thighs through his jeans,
however, he suddenly sat up, saying, "Never mind, guys.  Thanks anyway."
In his best street accent, he added, "Whadda you want?"

The leader whispered that they had found some tools in a storage shed that
would bring a couple of thousand back in the city.  If he were interested
in being the lookout, they would give him a good chunk of cash and a ride
to anywhere in the city he wanted.  Denny wanted to get out of that place
so bad!  Agreeing, he found himself on a rough road about a mile from the
camp.  Nearly two hours later, he was picked up by the construction boss's
men and dumped unceremoniously onto the carpet in front of the boss.

"You dumb little shit," the foreman spat.  "You couldn't even keep yourself
from being conned by a bunch of punks!  They left you holding the bag, you
idiot!  They're already halfway to the city!"  As Denny lay there, aching,
half-blinded by his tears, the foreman snarled, "I wish I had never heard
of Pat Mahan - and I sure as hell wish he weren't a friend!  I'd like to
kick your ass right back into that courtroom and let them put you where you
belong!"  He paused before continuing, "But he is a friend.  Listen up,
boy, for I'm only going to say this once.  I can call the local sheriff -
or you can decide to work your ass off for as long as you're here.  Believe
that you'll be watched like a hawk!  Your choice."

Denny knew all too well that the real choice was between slave labor and
Judson State Prison.  He bitterly hated this whole "North Woods Lego"
thing, but he wasn't stupid.  For the rest of the week, he completed every
backbreaking job as the interstate spur was cut through rock, swamp, and
forest.  Even though the foreman was impressed, the youngster still got one
e-mail message off to Dr. Mahan, telling him frankly what had happened and
how he was trying to make up for it.  He was going to find out anyway.

The truck dropped him off at about nine o'clock on the evening of the fifth
day.  He knocked until the door was open by Dr. Mahan himself.  "My God,
Denny, look at you!"  Mahan exclaimed despite himself.  "Guess I could use
a shower and a shave, couldn't I?" the youngster replied with a grin,
relieved that his mentor appeared to be ready to let bygones stay bygones.
"Well, I'm not sure about your needing a shave, but a shower and some clean
clothes seem in order," his laughing mentor replied.  "Want some food when
you're through?"  Denny's "Y-E-A-H!" left no doubt about his sentiments.
In time, the boy, clad only in a pair of cargo shorts, reappeared and lit
into the platter of sandwiches and fruit with a vengeance.  After he had
polished off the last crumb, he climbed up on the couch next to the
doctor's lounge chair and chattered away about the work and adventures of
the week.  "How do you feel, Big Guy?" Mahan inquired.  "All things told,
sir, great!" Denny responded.  "The muscles are real sore, but I'll snap
back pretty fast."  "You'll need to!" Mahan exclaimed.  "You only have
tomorrow before the next assignment.  One hell of a forest fire has sprung
up.  It's already burned over nearly 40,000 acres and threatens two towns
and many homes and ranches.  Asked for help by FEMA, we are sending all of
our people into the field as available.  Can do?"  "Can do, sir, though I
think I had better hit the sack fast.  I had looked forward to talking with
you, but next time, maybe, ok?"  Pat Mahan was somewhat perplexed as he
sent Denny off with a slap on the rump.  Yes, he was smooth and could charm
the skin off a rattlesnake, but he also seemed truly disappointed that the
fire had cut short his time at home.  "We'll watch this one," he told
himself as he turned off lights downstairs.

(New Challenges: Firefighting)

Once again Denny found himself in a situation where he had an overwhelming
urge to run.  As the light plane that carried him and four other young
firefighters neared the Alwyn State Forest, all he could see was smoke.  As
the plane came closer and made ready to land, he could see fierce tongues
of flame consuming everything in their path.

A pickup carried the boys to an office where headquarters had been set up.
As they rolled through the town, it appeared to Denny that every piece of
firefighting equipment for miles around had been brought to the area.
Additionally, many firefighters were observed, some coming into town and
some leaving for the front lines.  The supervisor appeared to be a good
man, but he was clearly dead tired and disinclined to give a long speech.
"Ok, men," he barked.  "Anyone here who isn't at least 18?  No..."  (Denny
hadn't raised his hand.)  "Anyone have EMT certification?"  (Three of the
men raised their hands.)  "Anyone not have a valid driver's license?"
(Reluctantly, Denny raised his hand.)  "You!" the supervisor barked,
pointing to the boy.  "You'll go with Mac here," he added, pointing to one
of the men to his side.  "Listen up!" he continued.  "This blaze is
endangering two towns, many residences, and a whole new section of the
State Forest.  We're making a major effort to stop it here.  Thanks for
coming."

As his pickup bounced up a dirt road, the guy named Mac drawled, "Do you
have the slightest idea of what you're doing, kid?"  "Nope," Denny
answered.  "Thanks for saving my time," Mac replied. "Stick close to me.
You're a husky one.  Maybe we'll both make it out of here alive."  For what
seemed hours, Denny chopped and shoveled and helped other firefighters with
hoses and did anything else that Mac directed.  He felt better than he had
on the I-987 assignment and his young strength served him well.  Missing
his sidekick at one point, the youngster yelled, "Where's Mac?"  "Last time
I saw him, he was over there by that rock outcropping," a girl answered.
Moving over that way, the lad saw that the fire was just completing a
pincers movement.  Two men were almost surrounded and fenced in by walls of
fire.  In response to yells for help, others came running, and the
firefighters were able to save both of them. In fact, Denny carried Mac out
on his back.

The fire wasn't completely out when Denny left, but there were plenty of
people to mop it up.  The boy, his youthful energy thoroughly dissipated,
had to be supported when the supervisor pinned a medal on his shirt.  "Nice
going, lad.  Pat Mahan will hear about this.  These two guys live in the
same area as you do.  They'll make sure you get home safe and sound.
Thanks from Mac, thanks from me, thanks from the people of this area.

Inasmuch as firefighters were brought in from all over the nation,
Dr. Mahan wasn't too surprised when he was informed that Denny would not
return for seven days.  When he did return, he actually had to be helped up
the outside stairs by his escort.  "You've got a great son," the older man
who helped him to the door said to the doctor.  "He's one of the hardest
workers I've ever seen, he kept everyone's spirits up with his antics, and
he saved one of the best men I've ever worked with.  Take care of him."
"Come on in with your old dad," Pat grunted with the slightest sarcasm as
he helped Denny into the foyer.  "Nuthin' wrong with hopin'," the exhausted
boy wheezed as he laboriously put one foot in front of another.  When the
clothes were on the floor of the upstairs bathroom, the youngster was seen
to be filthy from head to foot.  "How you doing, sport?" the good doctor
asked.  "Pretty well, sir, but would you mind sticking around while I take
a shower.  "No problem, Denny.  I'll sit right here on the throne and read
some good literature," his mentor joked.  "Ha!" the boy sputtered and
jerked his hand away from water that had suddenly turned too hot.  In less
than ten minutes, a voice called from the shower, "If you'll leave the
towel on the counter, sir, I think I can take it from here."  "I'll wait
for you next door in the den, Denny, where I'll hear you if you need me,"
came the response.

When the towel-clad youngster finally appeared, it was immediately obvious
that he had shot his bolt.  Rather than try to get him downstairs, Pat
tucked him into one side of his king-sized bed where he was asleep well
before his head hit the pillow.  He slept the sleep of the dead for nearly
twelve hours.  Awakening, still dazed, he wrapped the towel that was on the
floor around him and stumbled into the bathroom.  From there he weaved his
way towards smells that were emanating from the kitchen.  Grabbing the kid
who almost fell as he slipped on the kitchen tiles, Pat sat him down on a
counter stool and put coffee and juice in front of him.  Moments later
after he had removed the toast from the toaster, he turned around only to
find that Denny had slumped onto the counter and was sound asleep.  Helping
the heavy hunk to his feet, he manhandled him back to bed.  It was well
into the afternoon before he appeared in the doctor's den, hair combed,
bright eyed, clad in his favorite shorts.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lawrence," Pat exclaimed jokingly.  "Good afternoon,
Dr. Mahan," Denny responded with a giggle.  "That was quite a siege, wasn't
it, young'un?"  "Yep," the blond admitted, "but we stopped the fire and
finally beat it.  Did a lot of good...saved some lives."  For a good half
hour they discussed Denny's experiences on the fire line.  The slightest
note of longing entering his voice, Denny eventually asked if he would be
home for a bit longer this time.  "The full two days," Pat responded, "but
I'm thinking of keeping you here for a bit longer."  "How so?" the boy
asked, his eyes on his mentor.  "Well, it's a little early in your program,
Denny, but I'm thinking seriously of a Personal Assistant' assignment."
Trying to contain himself, but not quite succeeding, the boy sputtered,
"Don't be concerned, Boss.  You say it, I do it.  I know it's an assignment
like all others - and I realize that you'll be as hard-nosed as all get out
in your evaluation.  Bring it on, Boss!"  Mahan looked at him without
smiling.  Finally, he murmured, "It's a difficult assignment for several
reasons, youngster, but ok...  We'll give it a try."


To Be Continued