Date: Fri, 26 May 2006 08:25:15 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nature Country 09

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is
entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to
accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or
governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If a
sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships
offends you, then you should not read this story.
Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in
most state and countries, you are not allowed to read
this story by law. Check with your local laws
regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is
fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'

"Nature Country" 09
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Sunday morning hit with a vengeance. When Barry lay
back, breaking his hug hold on Steve, he almost
pulverized tiny Scruffy.

"What the hell was.... that?" Steve sat up quickly,
when hearing the pup squeal out loud.

Shimmying around, Barry released the poor mongrel from
behind his back, bringing him into the middle of the
two. Scruffy scampered from Barry's belly to Steve's.
In the nick of time, Steve spread the sheet over his
bare pubes.

"Oh, will you look at that.. he wants `you' to take
him out, Steve!"

"Oh, but it's your turn, Barry dear," Steve downplayed
the intent.

"Mine?"

"Yeah, I went with you last night. Remember?"

"Hmm, so since it was my turn and you offered to come
with, where does that constitute `your' turn?" Barry
bluffed.

"Oh, alright."

Being a cheerful giver, Barry adds, "I'll be a good
sport and accompany you."

The two dressed in the same sweat clothing, for the
third time in twelve hours. As they descended the
three stairs from their bedroom suite, grabbing their
coats, the front doorbell rang.

"I betcha I know who that is!" Barry grinned, as his
hand turned the doorknob.

Sure enough, as Barry had anticipated, there stood
Mike Green with their two boys.

"You boys look like you've been up all night!" Barry
chided, seeing shopping bags under their eyes.

"That's because," fifteen year old Eric replies, "we
haven't gotten a wink of sleep."

Tom follows through, portraying the look of
dead-tiredness, "That's because we have been up all
night," he looks at Officer Green.

Still standing at the door, the conversation carries
inside.

"Man, I didn't believe what we had to do," Eric
complains.

Tom helps, "Yeah, I thought they had cleaning services
to wash the jons."

"Y'know, Officer Green says in prison, they don't have
a service to come in and clean? The prisoners do it
all?"

Steve blurts out, "Sounds like the army!"

"Well, it's for sure," Tom cues them in, "if it's in
my power, there's nothing I'm going to do to get me
inside those walls," he infers, a prison.

"Me neither!" Eric agrees.

"Dads, can I go get a shower now?"

Eric, compelled to do the same, agrees, "Yeah, we're
all grimy and sweaty."

"You may," Barry answers.

Steve adds, as the boys scoot by, being careful to
step over Scruffy, "And then you can jump into your
Sunday clothes?"

"Oooh, do we have to go to church?"

Eric stands there, the same look on his face, the
reaction Tom gave, asking.

"Yes, you still have to go to church," Barry lets on.

Steve adds, "And boys?"

"Yeah, dad?"

They look at each other, saying the same thing at the
same time, then to dad-Steve.

"You're both grounded until further notice?"

Both knew it was coming and didn't have a problem with
it. As they headed to their room, Steve and Barry
headed outside, walking Mike to his patrol car.

"I think the boys got the message," Mike tells the
dads.

As Steve holds the reins, Scruffy lifts his leg
against the tree.

"It took them almost all night," he continues telling
them, "to clean the precinct jon, but I have to admit
they did do a good job. I did allow them a few winks,
so you can lighten up on them a bit."

"Let's hope this is the last time they see the inside
of a police station, Mike."

Barry adds to Steve's observation, "Yes, I agree. It
seems your community help project did them some good."

"Well, not to get too raunchy on you fellows, but
sometimes the officers, like myself have a bare few
seconds to run in, take a leak and hightail it back
out. There's a lot of `misses'!"

The three had a laugh, even though it came at Tom's
and Eric's expense, having to clean the four stalls
and six urinals, plus sinks, walls and floors, taking
them all night.

"Mike, I'm real thankful you had been there to help
out."

"Don't think you're not getting billed," Mike replies.
"You owe the city two toothbrushes and a can of
cleanser."

Another burst of laughter escaped the three. However,
even though Mike joked about the cleaning utensils, he
meant it, talking about when fund drive time came
along.

"Oh, by the way," Steve interjects, standing at the
side of Mike's unrolled window, "I heard about
Terrence Beethoven."

"You did, did you?" Mike looks up to Barry.

On the side, Barry asks, "Well, you wouldn't keep
something like this from `your' partner, would you?"

"Oh, was that supposed to be a secret between us,
babe?" Steve questions his lover.

"Not anymore, it's not."

"Oh, I'm so sorry babe."

In a hurry, Mike lets on, "No, I don't suppose I
would," referring to telling his partner, Gary Roberts
anything that didn't require the highest secrecy.
"Look, I've been on the clock for eighteen hours..."

But Barry didn't let him finish, saying, "Okay, we'll
let you go Mike."

Both dads took his hand, thanking him, assuring him
back that what he had done for them seemed to have a
great effect on the boys. Mike warned back for them to
keep a keen on them anyhow.

As Mike circles the small cul-de-sac, Steve asks
Barry, "You don't think the boys will try that again,
do you hon?"

"Hmm... peer pressure can be pretty tough. Tomorrow
morning I'd like the heads of every department in a
special meeting, in my office. I'm sure Agnes would
not mind me calling her at home to arrange it ahead of
time."

"Are you kidding, Barry? If I know Agnes and I've
known her longer than you, she'll have them in your
office at the break of dawn!"

"Might be a good idea."

Steve laughed. It seems that lately Barry has been on
the same wavelength as Agnes, going beyond the call of
duty, arriving early or staying after school, to get
the job done. As they walked Scruffy, Steve gloated in
the knowledge, in a more personable sense. Throughout
the year he sensed many a time how deeply caring a
human being Barry is and it made him feel all good
inside knowing he was `his man'!

"What's on your mind, Steve?"

"Oh, nothing."

"You're awfully quiet for nothing. Usually you're
talking up a storm and it's me being accused of giving
the silent treatment. So, what's up?"

"What's up, huh?"

Taking Barry's right hand in his left, Steve interpets
Barry's question by leaning in, saying, "This is
what's up..."

He proceeds to match up his lips with Barry's. To the
side of Desert View Lane, the street they live on, the
two embrace, as Scruffy sniffs at the bushes. The
sounds of a car engine warns them, just in time, of
it's approach.

"Well, well, well. Will you look at that," Barry
comments.

Sailing by them, Terrence Beethoven and Rick Angelozzi
wave `hello', with a light touch to the horn. Steve
and Barry offer a wave in return.

%

"Good morning, gentlemen!"

Chad and Matty, heads still buried, faced down in
their pillows, slowly do a half pushup with their left
arms, turning to the voice before them.

"Coffee before church?"

"Enrique, don't you ever take a day off?"

The thirty-four year old latino, spiffed up in his
usual black outfit, ironed white shirt and bow tie,
stands there with the tray of hot coffee mugs.

"Of course I do. A little at a time, as we've agreed,
sir?"

More geared to the upstanding hierarchy of English
butlery, the Latino stands there, waiting for the two
to turnover and accept his morning offering.

"I thought that maybe since you requested that I wake
you at seven thirty that..."

First Chad starts in on Matty, then Matty in on Chad,
each accusing the other of informing Enrique of waking
them up at the ungodly hour. Enrique sets the tray
down and proceeds to leave for the kitchen. Soon the
two discover that their target, for argue's sake, has
disappeared.

"Where'd he go?"

"You scared him off," Chad tells his mate.

"Me?"

But then, the two lying there, looking at each other,
turned towards each other's buff bod, forget all about
their differences.

Matty, glancing at Chad's stomach, admits, "Hee hee...
looks like I did get a little carried away with your
navel last night, Preppy!"

Chad's attention swoops down his stomach, his
fingertips pressing in on his belly trail, to look.

"'Told you there was teethmarks, but you didn't
believe me!"

"Sorry," Matty replies, smiling, knowing he's already
forgiven.

"Next time just tongue fuck it?"

"Yeah, sure," Matty replies.

Like so many other times, their making up results in a
bond, sealed with a kiss.

"Ahem!"

The two quit their lip locking and look towards the
door.

"Breakfast will be served hot in ten minutes... cold
in fifteen!"

Doing his disappearing act, Matty and Chad hop out of
bed. From experience, the two know that when Enrique
informs them of the hot and cold statistics, he's
right on the nose. Sure, it took a couple of times of
`hard knocks' for the eighteen and twenty year olds to
figure out that oatmeal can turn cold in fifteen
minutes time and that Enrique was right on the mark.

"Shower?"

"You heard what Enrique said, doofus!" Chad scolded
Matty, as if he should know better.

He should!

%

As Mike Green headed home, anxious to greet his mate,
shower, shave, maybe get a quick cat's nap - in that
order, he traveled rather quickly through the
twenty-five mile per hour zone of the local
neighborhood.

"Oh shit!" he called out, whacking hiself on the side
of the head.

It's only three days ago that he helped set up the
roadside speed sign, one that flashed an oncoming
car's  speed, in digital red lighting. Residents had
complained of the dirt flying, fallout from speeders
on the busiest road in the housing community, Bridges
Lane. Now Mike became the biggest offender. Slowing,
he stare forward, then through the rear view, looking
out for anyone who might be able to incriminate him.
He breathed easier knowing he was alone on the road.
That is until something moved, towards the side of the
speed machine. Mike's first impression was a bear,
which could spell danger to the neighborhood famous
for it's joggers, but also to the ordinary resident.
He stepped on the brake and backed up. Getting out of
the patrol car, he unsnapped his gun pouch, readying
if he had to pull the trigger on what could be the
first time for Mike upon meeting this type of critter.
Thinking it the lack of sleep, a delusion, he shook
his head, sensing nothing visually. However, upon
hearing a snapping of twigs, Mike became more attuned
to reality. He stepped from the curb, on the alert as
he parted the bushes at the side of the road.

"What tha?"

Mike stood there, gazing.

"You aren't gonna hurt us, Mr. Policeman, are you?"
The younger one asked.

Unlike what the encounter with a bear would be like,
it wasn't the first time Mike had found children by
themselves. Right away he knew these two weren't of
the West Richlan area.

"Come on out of there, you two," Mike called out. "I'm
not going to hurt you."

The two boys, looking to be about nine, the other late
teens, stood up from their knees.

"Stay behind me," the older one said, pushing the
younger boy behind him.

Seeing the reason for their caution, Mike relaxed,
taking his hand off his gun holster.

"Where are you boys... from?"

Mike hesitated, when he realized both boys wore shoes
or sneakers that looked like they had been fifty years
old. Bare feet could be seen through the splitting
sides.

"We're not from around here," the older teen did the
talking.

"That's obvious. I'm Mike. Mike Green."

Instead of an introduction, the usual polite thing in
return, the older teen asks, "You got anything to
eat?"

Popping out from behind, the younger lad confesses,
"Yeah, we ain't eat anything for a week!"

"Week? Is that how long you boys have been...."

The youngster added, before Mike could finish, "A
coupla months..."

"Shut up, Seth," the older one said, pushing Seth and
his opinions back behind him.

"I live up the road, if you boys are hungry."

The teen made it plain, "If you don't got anything on
ya, we'll be on our way."

Thinking quick, trying to outfox the obviously smart,
but frightened stranger, Mike says, "The weatherman's
predicting a late day shower. Feet exposed to cold
rain and wind will turn your toes to ice cubes, in no
time."

Seth makes another appearance, asking Mike, "Do toes
really get to be ice cubes, mister?"

Trying to keep his cool with the teen, Mike couldn't
help but break down his guard over Seth's innocent
inquiry.

"No, they don't really," he answered, kneeling down on
one knee, to bring himself to Seth's height. "But the
way it looks, these shoes are going to get mighty
soaked when they hit a big puddle."

Seth tugged on the teen companion's pants leg, saying,
"I think we can trust this one, Luke."

The one Seth called Luke, toyed with the option,
keeping his cool, as he looked down at thirty-seven
year old police officer.

Staring up, Mike responded, "No hassles. You're free
to come to my place for a bite to eat," then looking
down at Luke's feet, "give you a new pair of shoes,
then you're free to go."

He knew for a fact that trying to make runaways stay
put, wouldn't fare well.

"Let me get this straight," Luke opened up, "you're
gonna give us some grub and something better for our
feet..."

Mike shook his head up and down, signifying `yes'.

"Then we can get on our way?"

"That's the deal," Mike told him.

"Hmm," the sandy blonde youth stewed it over.

"Luke, this one we can trust. I knowed we can, Luke!"

Seth continued jerking on Luke's pants.

"You're not gonna try anything stupid, are you?"

Mike thought, `Hey, that's my line', but with a sense
of question, decided to nix the jokes and replied
seriously, "That's right."

It became tough to contain Seth to the back seat, as
he kept leaning over the seat to interrogate Mike, as
Luke sat back and watched nature go by.

"Hey, mister, you got any bacon and eggs?"

"Oh yes. Plenty. Sounds like you're real hungry. When
did you say was the last time you ate?"

It's Seth this time who got the pull on the pants, as
he lurched backwards, with a word of warning from
Luke, "That's enough talk!"

"Oh c'mon, Luke. He's not like that other policeman."

Mike looked in the backseat, from the rearview,
wondering what that piece of the puzzle was about.

After a brief silence, looking to Seth, then at Mike's
eyes in the rearview mirror, Luke blurts out, "We
ain't had nothin' to eat in four days."

Seth opens up with, "A policemen's give us some food."

With a sarcastic frame of mind, Luke reports,
"Yeah'n'that ain't all they gave us to eat."

Right away, Mike is filled with a multitude of
thoughts. Fortunately he had reached the street he
lived on, Fern Drive. Pulling in the roundabout
driveway, he toots the horn.

"What's that? Some kind of signal?" Luke asks, going
for the door handle, suspicious.

"Right," Mike agrees. "Let's the household know I'm
home."

Then, looking out through the window, Luke questions,
"That your son?"

Spotting Zach, Mike reacts, "I guess you can say that.
My partner's nephew, but I treat him like my own."

"You live with another policeman?" Seth asks, thinking
of another uniformed man.

"No."

Before Mike can explain, Zach around the side of the
car.

"Want to pop the trunk? I'll help you out with the..."

As has been the routine, Mike tooted for all the
available help, rounded up to take in groceries.
Tilting his torso, Zach looks through the backseat
window.

"Who are these guys?"

For the moment, Mike's words are lost on unhearing
ears, as Zach stares straight through the glass, into
Luke's eyes. From the inside view, the likewise takes
place. That is, until Seth's stomach grows impatient.

Going for the door handle, he falls over Luke's lap,
almost tumbling out of the patrol car.

"Whooooooa, easy there fellow!" Zach calls out.

Helping Seth make his exit, half of Zach's attention
keeps revisiting the teen in the backseat.

"You alright?"

"Hey, thanks mister," the nine year old calls out.

Instead of introducing himself, Zach overrides Seth
and extends a hand to Luke, "I'm Zach Roberts."

Luke sits there, offering not a visual or emotional
response. Mike decides to take the helm.

"The boys are hungry, Zach."

Withdrawing the courtesy, Zach responds, "Yeah. Okay."

Backing off, Zach loses the gleam that shown in his
eye.

"Um, Uncle Gary has breakfast on," Zach replies,
breaking his vision entirely, with Luke. "C'mon," he
motions to Seth, taking the kid's hand, "we have
plenty to eat."

Mike hovers over the open back door of the patrol car,
offering, "You coming, or leaving on an empty stomach
there, Luke?"

Putting the question aside, Luke turns to, "Is Zach
gay like you?"

Knowing he never straight out said it, yet admitting
it, he replies, "Yes."

The fact that Zach made an appearance, quelled some of
the doubt in Luke's mind. Slowly he emerged from the
patrol car. However, Mike could tell that something
terribly disturbing remained with Luke. Being quick to
guess, it had to do with the image of his uniform and
not the person wearing it. It piqued his interest to
find out why.

%

9 Continued.....

Copyright 2006  T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold or made part of any
collection without prior written permission.