Date: Thu, 27 May 2010 19:29:04 -0600
From: dnrock@rock.com
Subject: Of Man ans Boy 18

Of Man and Boy
by:  dnrock(dnrock@rock.com)


18:  What The Hell Is Normal, Anyway?

They lay together, the boy under the man, catching their breath.  "Oh god,
oh god, that was wonderful, that was so good I never dreamed it could be
that good."

Paul rolled off.  "Thank you, thank you, you have given me the greatest
gift in the world."

"It was good, I will admit, very good, but the greatest in the world?"

"Yes, the greatest gift in the world.  You have given me freedom from
myself.  From this time forward my ass is yours any time, any place as
often as you want."

"Eric son, I know you enjoyed this and you will again many more times in
your life but you can not give me or anyone else cart blanch to your butt.
You can only give cart blanch to your heart.  In the man-boy sexual
relationship it is the boy not the man that controls the sex.  It must be
that way, that is how the power balance is maintained."  They were laying
side by side and speaking between kisses and fondles.  Paul's hands drifted
over the boy's compact butt.  "There will be times when I play with your
butt or your penis wanting more."

"Yes, yes more."

"There will be times when you play with mine too."

"Yes, yes more."

"Son there will be times for both of us, many times in the future when one
or the other does not want more."

"No, no never."

"I am afraid so, believe me, I know this, remember I've been there already.
As I was saying there will be times and the true test of lovers is their
ability to respect each others wishes, desires and needs, without feeling,
jealous, hurt or obligated.  Do you understand?"

"I think so."  He began to cry again.  Pressing his face to Paul's chest he
could feel Eric's tears on is skin.  "You really do love me for me, not
just for my body."  He sobbed on.  "Why, why do we love others, why didn't
my parents love me like you do?"

"I am not sure I can answer that.  We love because that is part of our
genetic make up, a behavior that is built in all of us, comes with being a
human primate.  Exactly why I love you or Grant or any other person I can't
answer either but it has something to do with getting to know that person.
We may have feeling for someone based on pheromones a kind of smell hormone
or some other reason.  Philosophers, writers, poets and about everyone else
has examined it.  No firm answer, no formula like Force equals Mass time
Acceleration.  All I know to say is you are loved, you are valued, you are
respected and in addition I sure like fucking your butt."

Eric pulled his head back, looked Paul in the eye and smiled.  "I know why
I love you.  It is because you respect me, are respectful of my feelings,
you make me feel good just being in the same room, you make me laugh and I
too like your butt and I know I will like fucking it."  That was exactly
what he did too.

It was noon by the time they crawled out of the bed.  That was Ok.  Good
sex is always Ok and this was great sex.  Paul made his phone calls, Eric
cleaned up and they made ready for the trip to the airport.

We shift now to Montana to look in on Grant and the others.

"Grant Sweetie. its time to wake up."  Grant kind of snuggled deeper under
the duvet and opened his eyes.

"I know grandpa but it is so nice and warm in here."  Grant smiled up at
the older man.  PA smiled back and began tickling the boy.  That got him
woken up, giggling and out of bed on the run for the bathroom.  It sure was
nice to see a giggling, naked boy running around the house again.

"This place is over 100 years old," he thought.  Grant is the sixth
generation of Stum boys to be doing that.  He didn't know for sure if the
ones before his father did or not, his dad never told him that, only that
he and his brothers did, "I did, Junior did and now Grant".

PA liked the idea of traditions as long as they made some sense or they
didn't get in the way of sense, as the case may be.  He thought boys
running naked was a good one, skinny dipping in the coulie pond, on a hot
summer afternoon was another, having an animal or animals like a horse to
care for was good too.

He remembered how he and Eric would tease their mothers by running round
their houses naked.  Now days Mrs. Slocan is the only female that ever
comes around much and these boys know better when she is present.  He
chuckled to himself.  "She is such a prude, I know she had sex, she does
have several children but you would never know it."

Sitting at the breakfast table waiting for Grant were Jerry, PA and
Miss. Wilma Anderson.  Miss Anderson is an 18 year old young lady, who is
very good looking, relatively small of stature, fit and trim.  She has
strawberry blond hair, a well developed bust line and ample female hips.
Wilma has an engaging smile, a very gentle demeanor, rich blue eyes and a
few freckles on her nose.

Grant came storming into the kitchen and stopped abruptly in mid sentence.
He was not expecting a stranger to be in the kitchen.  He was not expecting
that stranger to be a youngish lady.  She was quick off the draw and before
anyone else could react Wilma stuck out her hand and introduced herself.

"I'm Wilma Anderson, you horse trainer."

Grant was suddenly just a bit shy.  This might have been some kind of act
since he is anything but shy under normal conditions.

"I'm Paul Grant Stum the Third, you can call me Grant, I wouldn't want any
confusion with the Pauls One or Two."  Grant shook her hand and sat down.

Wilma raised her eyebrows and smiles.  Mrs. Slocan placed a large bowl of
steaming oatmeal in front of him.  She was thinking there would be little
chance of that confusion.  All he could think about at first was, "she is a
shorter and younger version of my mother."  PA giggled quietly and Jerry
rolled his gray eyes.

"Did they tell you I've already started to train Dolphin," Grant announced.

"You have, what have you taught him to do," Wilma replied

"He follows me around without a lead.  He stops and starts on voice and
hand signals.  He can find and when given permission get an apple or carrot
from my pocket.  He plays ball with me.  I also know all his parts
including bone structures and muscle groups," Grant stated.

"Well that is impressive.  Perhaps you can train him yourself, if I show
you what to do.  I have a three year old gelding Quarter to train up,"
Wilma said.

Grant was happy about that.  He read already all about what one does to
train a horse.  He also knew, because PA had told him, he would not be
riding Dolphin for another two and a half years.  PA was getting a six year
old gelding pony for him to ride in the mean time.  Grant was a natural
when it came to working with animals like PA and Junior had been, still
are. Jerry thought he was even better but great grandparents are somewhat
bias.

Wilma was quite surprised at how Dolphin performed.  Just as Grant had
described.  She was not sure how things would work with three horses in the
corral at the same time.  She had always trained them individually but that
is what Grant wanted.  He insisted she at least try.  She slipped the
halter on her newest pupil Cyclone.  This was a spirited one for a gelding
that was for sure.  She thought he might be a bit to handle but Grant in
his youthful optimism didn't understand her concern.

He had made friends with Cyclone on his first day back.  He went down the
line as before reacquainting himself with all the horses in the barn.  This
one was new.  He climbed up on the stall and sat on the top rail.  In
Grant's usual manner he just talked and talked to the horse as if they were
old buddies.  He made sure to slip him a few carrots.  This continued each
day and now Cyclone knew Grant was his friend and a steady source of
goodies.

Cyclone was not interested in the halter nor was he all that interested in
coming out of his stall with this new girl either.  Grant and Dolphin
walked down the isle way.  Dolphin following behind Grant stopping when he
stopped.  Grant peaked around the stall gate and quietly told Cyclone, "you
just calm down now and cooperate with Wilma, if Dolphin can behave so can
you."  He slipped him a carrot.

"Just pick up the lead Wilma and he will follow you now, won't you big
guy."  Grant and Dolphin moved on and Cyclone was right behind her.  Triger
was already in the paddock.  The old horse slowly walked over to Grant and
put his head down for a mussel scratch and an apple.  Grant always had a
good supply of goodies for his horse friends.  He turned to Dolphin and
give him some sugar and told the colt he could run around.  This the colt
proceeded to do, finding a large ball and using his nose pushing it toward
Grant.  When the ball got close to Grant he gave it a good kick sending it
and the colt across the paddock.  Between ball kicks he petted the old
horse.  All this time Wilma was leading Cyclone around the fence line.
Cyclone was getting unruly again so Grant sent Triger over to "show him
how".  The old horse wandered over and placed himself next of Cyclone.
Placing Cyclone between himself and the fence.  He gently brushed against
the three year old or more exactly the three year old brushed against him
as he walked right next to him, as if he too had a lead.

After about two circuits Grant called Triger to him.  He had climbed up on
the rail fence and as Triger got next to him he swung his left leg over the
animals back and settled on the old horse bareback.  Picking up the rains
and slowly walked around with Wilma and Cyclone.  In an instant Dolphin
settled in next to Triger.  Grant is still light enough to do that.  The
vet did not want this ancient animal to cary any real loads or have a
saddle on.  He probably would not approve of Grant riding him either but
Triger seemed to like the idea.  His head was always held high when ever
the boy favored him like this.

Wilma was pleasantly surprised at the calming effect this old horse had on
the two younger ones.  Colts are not known for their discipline.  In fact
they have none.  After a bit Grant was on the ground again chasing Dolphin
around again letting the colt use up some of his energy.  Triger just
seemed to know that his job was to stay between the colt and Cyclone which
made Wilma's job doable.

Grant with Dolphin came up to Wilma, hackamore in hand.  She stopped to
show Grant how to fit it on his pony.  Dolphin did not like it at first but
since Grant had put it there and slipped him some more sugar, he went
along.  Grant fixed the lead and began emulating Wilma actions and
instructions.  Except for teaching him to turn left or right, which
requires slight pressure, Dolphin's lead was slack.  He followed his boy
like a puppy, walking behind or right next to him.  Sometimes when Grant
would stop Dolphin would ease in behind him and drape his head over the
boys shoulder for a muzzle scratch or better yet some sugar.  At six months
a colt is about 80 % of his adult height.  Welsh A's will reach about 16
hands, measured at the shoulder, he was now 11 hands which is 44 inches
(one hand is 4 inches).

......................

Grant didn't like sleeping alone.  He did like it that he was always
welcome in PA's bed.  He didn't sleep every night with PA, sometimes he
would stay in his room, in his own bed.  Even when he slept with PA they
didn't always have sex.

Jerry got his household organized but being only three miles away he was a
frequent visitor at the Stum's and Grant managed to make his visits too.
Both men made sure Grant accompanied them whenever they headed into
Harlowton or any place else.

PA liked to fly fish and one of the best rivers to do that in Montana runs
right along the south side of Harlowton, the Mussellshell.  Harlowton is
close to its headwaters, it is a wide and shallow stream except at snow
melt time.  A perfect place for fly fishing. (A little historical
background can be found at: http://www.folkways.org/Harlowton/ for anyone
interested)

Fly fishing, well any kind of fishing is good for the soul of both men and
boys.  PA dug out the old fly rod he had used to teach Junior, it was the
same bamboo rod his father used to teach him.  This was a special rod,
extremely light with a shorter and slimmer handle and only 3/4's the length
of a normal rod.  Something a boy's hands could hold on to.  He was able to
find a pair of boy sized hip waders in one of the two clothing stores still
operating in town.  Grant got the hang of working the line in a long figure
eight and then releasing the light fly into the stream, without to many
tangles and difficulties.  PA figured he picked it up about twice a fast as
Junior had at the same age.  Fly fishing or fishing of any kind was
something Gerald just never had any time to do.  Being a country medic, as
he puts it and running a small ranch/farm, raising a family and well just
being Gerald Hoffman, was a time and a half job.  Now that he has the time
for fishing acquiring the skills to operate a fly rod was not that much
fun.  He would stick to spin casting or better yet a worm and bobber on an
old cane pole.

For young boys sitting still long enough to catch anything with "still
fishing" techniques is just not going to happen.  Grant would probably find
spin casting okay but that was for later in the summer.

The spring came into summer and in late May Grant helped PA plant the large
garden out behind the barn.  PA plants a huge vegetable garden every
spring.  He likes fresh vegetables and he grows huge numbers to feed the
animals all winter.  He still stores them in a traditional root cellar.
Carrots, beats, turnips, onions, potatoes, cabbage.  Beans, peas and so on
go in the freezer these days.  He also has a smaller, "Salad Garden" closer
to the house: radishes, lettuce, broccoli and cauliflower and so on.  It
became Grant's job to weed and cultivate the Salad Garden and help tend the
flower beds around the ranch.  The salad garden lay behind the ranch house
between it and the small orchard.  Apples, plumbs, cherries and mulberries
grew in a long line of two wide.  Just beyond the orchard were to rows of
raspberry canes and high bush blackberries.

PA's mother had been a big fan of flowers and he just kept up the
tradition.  This was a good one he thought.  Grant figured that was why
Junior had so many flowers growing at Poseidondoro.  Well that and the
ideal growing conditions.

About a week before his exam challenge Mrs. Slocan brought him one of her
old 6th grade final exams.  She thought he should at least have some idea
of what he would be facing. Grant of course thought he should have written
100% but he didn't.  He did a very respectable 89%.  He was a little weak
on Montana history.  She tried to comfort him by pointing out he hadn't
studied it yet.  Grant being Grant marched over to Jerry's house.  Now, he
didn't exactly march in the military sense of the word.  He got PA to drive
him across the fields on an ATV.  Jerry had several books on Montana
history, combined with some internet searches, which Grant would devour in
the remaining days.

It was during this intense period of local cultural study that Paul made
his contract with Eric and the night before Grant sat his exam that Junior
asked him if he wanted a brother?  The very idea of another boy to share
his adventures and experiences with was almost to much for Grant.  He was
absolutely delighted with the prospect.

Prior to the study period Grant was riding with PA and Wilma almost every
day.  The pony, Sander, had shown up about two days after Dolphin's
training started.  The gelding turned out to be a light chocolate brown
with a dark mane.  He is a very gentle animal who loves to run and just
seems to understand the children who ride him.

Sander would stand very still while Grant climbed on a box built by one of
the ranch hands, giving him sufficient height to place the blanked and
saddle on his mount or reach where needed for proper grooming.  It was all
he could do to lift the saddle in position.

Once Wilma had taught him how to saddle and groom his pony Grant was loth
to ask for any help.  Jerry had sent over a saddle of western style but
designed specifically for a child and a pony along with, blankets, halters
and other pony sized gear.  He no longer kept any animals but still had a
well stocked tack room.  Grant had to learn the care and feeding of tack;
something he found he enjoyed doing.

Sander was very well trained and after only a few days of work Grant had
him doing just about anything one could ask of a pony.  He would move up to
the box and position himself exactly right for what ever it was Grant
wanted with just a hand signal.

In Jerry's library he found a old book by a John Solomon Rarey (1827 -
1866).  He was the original "Horse Whisperer".  The book, "The Complete
Horse Tamer & Ferrier", originally published in 1870, was a reprint from
the early 1900's.  "The Complete Farrier, or Horse Doctor," part was
written by John C. Knowlson and forms the second part or half of the book.
Grant seemed to have a natural ability to deal with animals although his
horses or dolphins had not been difficult in the first place.  In Rarey's
method the trainer established his dominence or authority over the animal.
All well and good but Grant was quick enough to realize no boy of 8 would
be able to do that to a pony of 14-16 hands unless the pony wanted him to.
He figured it was simpler to just make friends with the animal.  He was the
rider and the pony was trained to be ridden by children.  He was a child.
So they just needed to make a team that worked together, out of friendship
and role playing, not dominance.

Now Grant is good, Grant is smart, but he is not so analytical and his
logic was no way as well articulated as your author suggests, it did amount
to the same thing.  With Grant, what you see is what you get, an open and
friendly person with lots of caring and compassion.  He has no hidden
motives, he is just our Grant, someone who lives life and loves those lives
that live it with him.  Grant puts out 100% all the time on anything he
does, he expects no less from his friends be they human or animal.
Animals, the more intelligent mammals anyway, seem to know this or quickly
realize it.

Wilma's methods were not unlike those of Rarey.  A small woman training
large animals needs some kind of advantage other than strength.  Neither
she nor Grant want to break an animals spirit, just harness it to the team
effort.

Mrs. Slocan thought Grant needed some music in his life.  PA and Junior had
played brass instruments in the high school band but neither one kept up
with it.  In his youth Gerald had played the piano, he too failed to keep
up after he went to Medical School.  Most of the music on the local radio
stations was country and western.  Hurting music as PA would say.  He was
not that keen on it himself.  At night stations from further away could be
received, in the old days it offered a wide variety but now mostly talkers.
PA and Gerald both had good collections of classical stuff.  Gerald also
had lots of 1930's and 40's big bands, PA an eclectic collection of post
1950 jazz and popular things, rock and roll, show tunes and so on.

What she did not know was Junior's broad taste in all forms of music.  He
had a very large collection, much of it quite obscure.  While this meant
that Grant was being exposed to a very wide range of sounds and rhythms,
she was right in his not receiving any kind of music education.

PA and Gerald took him into Harlowton for his all day exam challenge.  The
school year in Harlowton ends at the end of May or very early in June, this
year at the end of May.  The sixth Grade final is more of a term or quarter
final.  Hillcrest School is a PK-through 8 institution with ±200 students
mostly in Kindergarten through grade six.  There are only 11 students or so
in grades 7 and 8 and 4 in PreKindergarden.  The grade six class is about
30.  The school is located on B Avenue NE not all that far from the Court
House, but the grades 7 and 8's are at another location on Division Street.
Harlowton is not a large place so in reality nothing is very far.

Grant had already blown away the Grade 4 proficiency tests which are
national, called the Iowa Test of Basic Skills, scoring in the 99th percent
tile on both state and national scales.  The test covers Vocabulary, Word
Analysis, Reading Comprehension, Listening, Language, Math.  Had it been up
to him he would have challenged the grade 8 ITBS test and the grade 8 state
proficiency test too.  It was not.  Junior did not want him getting to far
ahead of his emotional maturity by having his achievements recorded
officially, as it would have been if he did grade 8.  He did not want him
labeled as anything except a very bright, hard working, boy.

The principal brought Grant to the class room introducing him to the class'
teacher and the students.  He told them Grant was being home schooled,
lived in the Virgin Islands with his father and was visiting his
grandparents Stum and Hoffman for the summer.  Grant was dressed like all
the others, T shirt, jeans, runners and a back pack slung over his
shoulder.  Unlike them he had his lap top, digital camera and cell phone in
his pack, along with his lunch.  About half the kids would go home for
lunch the others come on school buses and eat in the lunch room.  Many of
the students recognized the Stum and all recognized the Hoffman names.
This was day one of a two day, semester test.  It would involve four
subject areas, two each day.  Day one was Language Arts and Math, day two
Science and Social Studies.  Each subject was broken into two parts
separated by a play-drink-toilet break, morning and afternoon separated by
an hour long lunch.

An extra desk had been placed at the head of the window row for him.
Behind Grant sat two boys who were requested to show Grant around during
the recess and lunch periods.  It was obvious he was not a grade sixer, to
short and lightly built, except for his shoulders, but being tall for his
age the others thought maybe grade 5.  Every student in the room wanted to
meet him and find out about this Virgin Islands place.  Two of the girls in
the class knew where the Stum and Hoffman ranches were, they lived not to
far way from them.

By the time Grant started his first test, the spelling portion of Language
Arts, Eric and Junior had completed their meeting at the hospital but Grant
didn't yet know this.  The boy right behind Grant was named Wilson Binder.
He was average sized for grade 6 about 4' 7" and that is just slightly more
than Grant's height.  He had short red hair and lots of small freckles on
his cheeks and nose.  After showing Grant where the boy's room was and
getting a long drink from the water fountain he and Grant began playing
with a basketball along with several other boys.  Grant liked this kid
right off.  Wilson was a bit hesitant at first but the more questions Grant
answered the more the kid warmed up.  His side kick, the boy who sat right
behind Wilson was a native American kid named Darwin Jackson.  Darwin did
not have much to say at first, he seemed quite shy but by the end of the
lunch period he and Grant were friends.  Unfortunately Darwin lived south
of town and Grant north.  Wilson lived in town.

By the end of the second day Grant learned that Wilma was Wilson's cousin
and one of PA ranch hands was Darwin's older brother.  They did not seem to
mind he was younger than them and plans for some summer adventures were
firmly hatched.

Grant performed admirably in his exams.  Language Arts, Math and Science
were all 100%.  He missed a few Social Studies questions but not that many.
The district superintendent was most impressed.  After a long telephone
conversations with PA and Gerald he relented in his attempts to get this
student into the regular program.

Mrs. Slocan did not relent in her pressure for some kind of musical
training.  Grant quickly memorized the scales and the keyboard and related
notation, demonstrating that to her.  Mrs. Slocan was full of praise but
she wanted more.  Grant told her he liked to sing and began several
renditions of famous sea chanties.  She was less appreciative of the
language since most of the ones Grant knew were, risqué to say the least.
Grant found a CD in PA's collection by the late Canadian singer-songwriter
Stan Rogers, called Northwest Passage.  (Rogers was killed in a 1983
aviation tragedy.)

He gave his best try at what has become a quintessential Canadian folk
song, Northwest Passage.

"Ah!  for just one time -- I would take the Northwest Passage
 To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea;
 Tracing one warm line -- through a land so wide and savage
 And make a Northwest Passage, to the sea.

 Westward from the Davis Straight 'tis there 'twas said to lie
 The sea route to the Orient for which so many died;
 Seeking gold and glory, leaving weathered, broken bones
 And a long forgotten lonely cairn of stones.

Ah! for just one time -- I would take the Northwest Passage
 To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea;
 Tracing one warm line -- through a land so wide and savage
 And make a Northwest Passage, to the sea.

 Three centuries thereafter, I take passage over land
 In the footsteps of brave Kelso, where his "sea of flowers" began
 Watching cities rise before me, then behind me sink again
 This tardiest explorer, driving hard across the plain...."

(the punctuation marks in the chorus are from your author, not Rogers.  I
added them to provide a sense of timing.  Grant also sang the whole song
over half of which is not reproduced here.)

On the CD Mr. Rogers sang lead with other male voices, i.e. achapilo.
There was no musical accompaniment to Northwest Passage.  In this way it is
a traditional sea Chanty.  Grant sang alone but his keen ear had picked up
the timing and rhythm as expressed by Stan.  He would have liked to deliver
it in the rich male voice he thought was appropriate, and posed by the late
singer, but the best he could do was a fairly high Alto.

Grant moved on to: Yo Ho Ho (By Allison and Waller, from a 1901 musical
based on Robert Louis Stevenson's book Treasure Island.)  He launched right
into it.  Grant had never heard it or seen the music but he figured he
could fake the thing having read the lyrics on the internet.  He did.
(http://www.jsward.com/shanty/index.shtml)

 "Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
 Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
 Drink and the devil had done for the rest
 Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
 The mate was fixed by the bosun's pike
 The bosun brained with a marlinspike
 And cookey's throat was marked belike
 It had been gripped by fingers ten;
 And there they lay, all good dead men
 Like o'day in a boozing ken
 Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum."

The song runs on for two more gory stanzas which Grant sang with much
boyish pleasure.  He knew full well she would not appreciate bawdy or
overly gruesome songs, groupings that many sea chanties fall into.

All this was well and good as he marched around singing but Mrs. Slocan was
still not completely satisfied.  She would think on it a bit.  At least the
boy could cary a tune she thought.

Grant just prayed his new brother, who would be here soon, could sing or
play some instrument or something.  Not that he didn't want music in his
life, he did.  Grant just didn't want it to get in the way of his having
fun and he was afraid it would.  Besides none of his boy book heroes like
Tom or Huck, the Hardy brothers or the Musketeers sang in their books.

Junior liked to sing too and he often did when in one of the boats.  He
mostly sang along with "old time rock and roll" as he put it.  To CD's in
the player mostly the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, surfer music, joyful and
happy tunes.  "Simple Sunny songs" as he often remarked.  Grant would
sometimes sing along too, it was fun.