Date: Fri, 10 Aug 2007 09:20:18 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natures Trail 17

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblances to real people,
alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in
nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon
persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental
areas, 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. This
story is for entertainment purposes only.% Sexual
safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In
real life, use protection.


%

"Nature's Trail" 17
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"So, how was your day today?" Chad questioned Jeremy,
as the three of them sat at the dinner table, Marco
dealing out the vittles.

"It was real cool. This guy named Matt, on the swim
team, showed us guys some neat swimming stuff."

"Really?"

"Yup. He started to show us some diving stuff, but
then said it might be too dangerous for us kids."

"Probably he didn't want to put his as..., um, neck on
the line," Matty said, switching terminology in
midsentence.

Jeremy really didn't know what Matt meant, but went
on, "Matt showed us a lot of stuff about holding our
breaths and the way our arms should plow through the
water."

"It sounds like you learned a lot," Chad replied,
forking the stir-fried beans into his mouth.

"Seth was real good at it. When Matt asked him where
he learned to swim, Seth told him he learned all by
himself. You know, Seth grew up in the country and
went swimming in a water-hole?"

"I bet that was fun," Matt said. "Was Callan in the
water with you or was he sitting on the sidelines,
taking it easy?"

"He wasn't anywhere."

Matty and Chad exchanged glances, Matty asking, "You
mean he wasn't by the pool?"

"Nope. He was talking with Matt, then I think he had
to go to the jon or something. We saw him go into the
lockerroom."

"It doesn't take long to pee," Chad said.

"That's what Diego noticed, when he said dad-Callan
was gone a long time."

"How long would you think, Jeremy?" Matty asks.

"I dunno. Most of the time that Matt was showing us
guys about swimming. He came back almost before Matt
said he had to leave. Then dad-Callan got us all
together and left. When he dropped James off, he left
Diego and Seth with James' mom."

With a look of perplexity on his face, Chad says,
"Something doesn't sound right here."

"You want to give Callan a call or should I?" Matty
poses to Chad.

"Let's finish eating and we'll decide later."

%

"Where's the fucking ambulance?" Denis impatiently
called out.

Riley could see Denis almost on the edge of shedding
tears.

"I'm sure it'll be here soon," Riley tried comforting
the teen, putting his hand on Denis' forearm.

"I hope Mark is going to be alright... it was all my
fault!"

At first, when he saw Mark, lying there on the seat,
dried blood on the vinyl fabric, Riley suspected an
accident, but now he felt hazy on the facts.

"I thought this was an accident of some sort?" Riley
said, revisiting Denis' barechested bod, seeing the
dried stream of blood down his chest, crossing
vertically over the teen's abs.

"If I hadn't....."

Finally, breaking down into tears Denis' ass hit the
floor. He sat there, bawling his eyes out. Riley
reached over, patting Denis on the arm, saying, "Why
don't we leave the questions to the detective?"

Denis didn't reply, carrying on with pouring out his
emotions.

The whole time squatting at the door, Riley leaned
back when he heard the sirens from far off,
commenting, "About fuckin' time!"

"What happened?" Darryl asked, seeing Denis crying his
heart out.

"The kid's upset," Riley said.

Darryl reported, "I reached his dads. They'll meet us
at the hospital. I'm surprised they didn't ask more."

"Did you mention my name?"

"Yup," Darryl replied.

Riley didn't elaborate. He didn't go into his life
history with Darryl, mentioning his close relationship
with the Clark-Barr clan, not to mention resolving a
problem for Berk, whereas the
detective-turned-home-repairman might have been in
dire straits his whole life. People looked upon Riley
Sanchez as a tough cop, but not one without a big
heart.

%

Swinging around the corner, off the main drag, Alonzo
turned onto Bridges Lane. After a few turns in the
road, he hung a left, turning up a long driveway.

"I feel bad," Callan says.

"About?"

"I more or less dumped Diego and Seth off with James'
mom without any explanation."

"As I see it," Alonzo responded, "I don't think
Detective Crew would want this discussed beyond the
four of us."

"You're right, but what do we tell them now?"

"That we had to take care of some personal business,
should do the trick."

"Oh," Callan said, looking down into his lap fidgeting
with his fingers.

"Listen, if you're still on edge about what happened,
don't be babe. Mike seemed to have a lot of confidence
in Detective Crew. I have a feeling things will work
out."

"But what if they don't... what if this swim jock
has..."

"What if-what if..." Alonzo takes Callan's nervous
hands in his. "We have to have faith things will work
out, okay?"

"I suppose."

"C'mon. Let's go get the kids."

"Damn!"

"What?"

"I forgot to call the hospital. Now I won't have
coverage for tomorrow morning!"

Seeing Callan dig down deeper and deeper into his
emotional ditch, Alonzo replied, "Then call out!"

"But I've never called out," Callan whined.

"There's always a first time."

Then it struck Callan, "I know!"

"What?"

"I'll call Maria. She'll fix things for me."

Seeing Callan somewhat elated, Alonzo resorted to,
"Doesn't she always? C'mon.. let's go."

Entering the Kitchner residence, the dads were
escorted to the diningroom, where dinner was already
on the table. Mrs. Kitchner invited the two for a bite
to eat, not waiting for a reply, but taking two more
plates from the diningroom hutch, telling James to
fetch two sets of flatware from the kitchen drawer.

%

While the ambulance workers carefully removed Mark
from Matt's SUV, Officer Tudyk disappeared
momentarily. Returning, to the back of the ambulance,
the twenty-four year old rookie, supplied Denis with a
shirt, reading `PAL', saying, "Here... I had it in the
trunk." Kind of out of it, Denis sat there, eyes red,
with a nervous shaking about him, frozen in place.
"Here, I'll help you put it on." Not waiting for a
response, Darryl stretched the shirt out, putting it
over Denis' blond head, picking up his right hand and
feeding it into the sleeve, doing the same with the
teen's left arm. Reaching behind Denis, he clothed his
back with it, letting it stream down his front.
"Better?" He asked Denis.

Desperate for affection, anyones, Denis reaches
forwards, putting both arms around Darryl's neck,
crying on his shoulder, complaining, "Why does life
have to suck so much?"

He swore the youth's reaction wasn't in the Police
Academy manual, so Darryl just stood there, thinking
how to react, hands to his sides. Mark, already being
taken care of, Riley approached from behind Denis.
Seeing Darryl's face lying on Denis' shoulder, hands
slack at his sides, he went over, took Darryl's wrists
in his hands and placed them at Denis' back. He stared
at Riley.

"Cops are human too!"

%

"Are we talking about this Saturday?" John quizzed
Kevin.

"Yeah. Tom wants to drive us to Madison, to go to the
gay club. Cool, huh?"

"I don't think I can make it," John replies, somberly.

"Why not? I thought you said you didn't have any plans
for Saturday night?" Kevin interrogates him.

"Something's come up."

Leaning on the pallet, pressing off, like a spring
attached to his elbow, Kevin crosses the cement floor,
the whole time staring in John's eyes. "Stop conning
me, John. What's up?"

Exhaling, John looks down, then up. "I don't like the
way Tom talks to me. I don't think I would have a good
time being around him. He hates me."

"Tom doesn't hate you."

"Then why is he always over my shoulder, like keeping
track of what I do? And then at other times, he's
busting my chops over something small?" Kevin had his
mouth open, ready to say something, but John rambled
on some more, "Like yesterday, I finished stocking the
shelves and a label on one can wasn't faced outwards.
He made a fuckin' issue over it!"

"John, I've got to explain something. Whatever's been
happening, is going to stop."

"No it's not, Kevin. The next time I screw up, Tom
will be there ready to pounce on me."

"Listen. Don't think you're the only one who has
noticed Tom's busting on you. I had it out with Tom
this morning," Kevin says.

"Had it out? This morning? Like what happened?"

Not explaining word for word, Kevin explains the talk
Tom and he had on the loading dock. Included in his
explanation, he talked about the `protective brother'
syndrome and other pertinent information, to ease
John's mind.

"I still don't believe it," John said, skeptical.

"All I can tell you is what happened, John. The rest
is for you to find out, if you can't take my word for
it?"

"I.... I don't think you're lying or anything, Kevin.
I just find it hard to believe Tom's capable of a
complete turnaround."

Interrupting them, they hear over the store PA, "John
Torkelson to customer service."

"There he is," John says. "What'd I tell you? I
haven't been here more than a half hour and he's
gunning for me!"

Releasing the pallet jack, John lets the load fall to
the concrete floor. Heading out of the double doors,
Kevin follows him, walking along the dairy case,
through the meat section, past the bakery area,
opening up to the twenty-eight cash lanes, traveling
beyond, right up to the customer service desk. Tom was
helping a customer, standing behind the desk, so John
waited.

"Maybe it's not what you think?" Kevin whispered to
him.

"Yeah, right."

Tom being freed up, he called John over to the desk,
so he stood right in front of him. John was all ready
for the tongue-lashing. Kevin had his fingers crossed,
hoping John's expectations were unfounded.

"We've got a problem here," Tom says.

Right away, John thought, `here comes the pink slip'!

"What did I do wrong now?" John said, a frustrated
tone to his voice.

Kevin and Tom exchanged glances.

"Um, this is the story. I had a little disagreement
with our customer service manager. She just walked out
on me. The job is yours if you want it."

Trying to make a wise decision, the eighteen year old
asks Tom, "I don't know. Why did she quit?"

Exchanging glances, Kevin comments to Tom, "Fair
question," Kevin reiterating, "Why did she quit?"

Tom directs to his brother, "Don't you have something
better to do?"

"It can wait," Kevin says.

"She wasn't very nice to a customer, arguing over a
return which would cost us fifty cents."

Mulling it over, John thought about all the aspects of
stocking shelves, freedom to move about the store, a
different area to stock daily, cutting down on the
boredom, helping to unload a truck, getting out in the
sun, goofing off once in awhile, especially since he
got to talk with Kevin. He could think of only one
whopping downside to the customer service position. He
would only be working the front of the store, mostly
glued to the desk, but then hustling around to help
stuck cashiers.

"No thanks."

Tom's eyes became wide as saucers, surprised at John
turning it down, saying, "You're passing up a great
opportunity, here. Just think. You wouldn't be hauling
freight from the loading dock, to the stockroom, then
stocking out. You wouldn't be getting all sweaty. It's
nice and clean up here, plus there's an extra couple
of bucks in it for you, plus a step towards
advancement."

"It's your call," Kevin said, when John looked towards
him.

Shaking his head, John declined for the second time.

As they walked back to the stockroom, Kevin said, "You
know, I've never seen Tom so disappointed?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think he thought you would jump at the
opportunity, John."

"Should I have?"

"You follow what your heart says, but frankly, I'm
real glad you turned him down," Kevin said, smiling.

"I really feel like I made the right decision. I don't
care if I get all sweated up. In a way I've always
associated sweat with being sexy."

"Oh really? How does that go?" Kevin asked, as they
breached the double doors to the stock room.

"Call me weird, but I always fantasized about getting
in a sauna, with a guy.. our bodies touching, sliding
against each, lubricated with sweat."

"You better stop talking like that John. If you don't,
I'm going to be sporting a raging hardon!"

"I'm curious, Kevin."

"About what?" he asked, jacking up a pallet.

"My feet. You said you could get into massaging my
feet with your tongue."

"Yeah, so?"

"Will it give you a hardon?"

"I don't know. I never did it before. But I know I
could really get into licking the sweat off your bod,
too."

"Cool! Know of any saunas around?"

"Too bad we don't have memberships to the gym," Kevin
replies.

"We could always let the hot shower run in the tub?"

"We better think about it later and get these pallets
out to the floor," Kevin responded. He had no choice.
It was either drive the pallets out to the floor or
stand there, talking about sweat and licking, making
his cock suffer, from the pent of corridor of his
jeans.

%

Letting Barry out, Steve hustled to find a parking
place at the hospital. Just about three months, to the
date, Barry had been rushed here, after the van
overturned. He knew exactly where the emergency room
was. As he arrived there, the ambulance was pulling
into it's designated spot. In a `do not park',
yellow-lined space, he saw Riley pulling up, parking
there. At the moment, Barry didn't have an interest in
illegal parking. Racing outside, he stood at the back
of the ambulance, as the medics opened the two doors.
"Mark?" Barry called out, seeing the eighteen year old
strapped down.

One of the medics, replied, "He can't hear you. He's
unconscious."

"Oh my God," Barry replied, "what seems to be the
problem?"

Then, around the back of the hospital, Steve appears,
stopping to talk with Riley. The two meet Barry at the
ambulance, Steve asking the same questions, but
adding, "Where's Denis?"

"I'm here," he answers in a slow, drawn out reply.

The dads turn around to see Denis, cowered in the pit
of Officer Tudyk's arm, as he slung it around Denis'
shoulders, a look of both fear and being scared,
painted on Denis' face, along with red, cried out
eyes. His normally perky, spiked hair was disheveled,
the baggy tee shirt draped over his shoulders. Out of
the emergency room parking lot, Matt strolled,
following the crowd, as they wheeled Mark into the
hospital emergency wing. Steve and Barry stood on
either side of the police officer, still clutching
Denis at his side. Darryl informed the dads, "He's
pretty shaken up. I think it might be wise to have a
doctor check him out."

Barry, the alpha male of the pair, asks, "Any idea
what happened?"

This is where Matt stepped in, saying, "I don't know
the whole gist of the story, but some of it."

Riley, overhearing Matt, suddenly became very
interested in hearing what the nineteen year old
college jock had to say. More concerned with their
sons safety, Barry and Steve ignored him, going on
inside, following the gurney rolling it's way through
the hospital corridors. Barry kept ahead, Steve
hanging back, keeping track of Denis and the police
officer. Soon Matt and Riley were left in their dust.

"First let me get some stats... full name?"

Watching over his arm, Matt says, "Matthew Drijver."

"Spell the last name?"

"D-R-I-J-V-E-R," Matt spells, watching Riley copy it
down.

"Age?"

"Nineteen."

"Address?"

"I live in the dorm, at WRCC."

"I guess that makes you a student. Year?"

"I'm a freshman."

"Employer?"

"Not yet. I've applied for some jobs, but haven't
heard back yet."

As Riley jotted down a few more things, Matt stood
there, his nose picking up on Riley's natural, musky
manscent. Eyes scanning the six foot two police
officer, he noticed the `V' neck of his shirt, dark
hair filling the space between.

"Um, you been on the force long?"

Without breaking his concentration, Riley replies,
"Eight years. So, what do you know of all this?"

"Very little actually. I was headed into town, from
the college and I saw in the distance a figure,
carrying somebody, like two kids playing piggyback. As
I got closer, I saw what looked to be Denis Clark, a
hand up in the air, waving at me, so I pulled over."

"And what did you see?"

"I immediately got out of the car, because I saw what
seemed to be blood dripping down his chest. I also
realized the guy on his back was his brother. He
wasn't moving."

Giving Riley enough to keep him occupied, writing,
again Matt checked him out, surveying his bod, eyeing
up the shirt collar again, then his face, noticing how
hot the officer looked.

"What did Denis say to you?"

"He was like in a panic. He kept yelling, cursing,
saying we had to get Mark to the hospital. `Said Mark
was hurt bad. Well, I could tell he was because he
wasn't moving and the blood on Denis' chest had to
come from somewhere. Denis didn't seem to be hurt."

"Then you put him in your SUV?"

"Yeah. Denis insisted on staying in the back with
Mark. I tore out of there and then that's when you
pulled me over." After watching Riley write for a
minute, he asked, "You're not going to give me a
ticket, are you?"

Stopping, his tongue rolling around in his mouth,
Riley stared at Matt, saying, "I'll have to outweigh
the facts. You were really tearing up the road."

"The facts? What the fuck do you mean the facts? The
fact is Mark was unconscious and I had to get him to
the hospital fast!"

His eyes still rolled over Matt, noticing his tee
shirt straining to hold the built chest, two outward
indentations dotting his pecs, the outline of his abs
as the tee was tucked into his pants. However, he was
slowly getting turned on by Matt's moxie. "I might let
you slide."

"You better."

At the last comment, Riley felt a twitch in his
briefs.

%

Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.