Date: Thu, 4 Sep 2014 08:29:38 -0300
From: James Fitzhugh <fitzh1943@gmail.com>
Subject: The Venturer Scout - 08

The Venturer Scout -08

by: James FitzHugh <FitzH1943@gmail.com>

Many thanks to Len in South Africa for his editing; to Rob in Alberta,
Canada for all his technical assistance; and, to those readers who very
kindly dropped me a note.

Here we go with all the legal stuff. If you are under the legal age; then
you really ought to leave now. If, on the other hand, you find the story
offensive or it is illegal according to the laws of your Country, State or
Province for you to view this content, I suggest you tune out and go find a
good Sherlock Holmes mystery or a good novel written about the days of
wooden ships and iron men. If you need help to find authors, just drop me a
note.

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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We walked over to Aaron's place. It was a beautiful evening and I saw no
real reason to use my car. Aaron, being Aaron, was flapping his gums so
fast I thought he was about to change our weather pattern. It's amazing
what tripe a young boy/man can come up with when nothing intelligent is
roaming around his brain pan.

Aaron wanted me to go round to their back door and since I consider myself
no-one's domestic nor a whatchamacallit salesman, I let him run round to
the side of the house while I walked up to the front door. I was just about
to put my finger to the bell when the door opened and Cathleen, Aaron's
mother, reached out and pulled me in by the shirt collar. But, when I was
introduced to their lawyer, I understood why.

Mr. Anthony Joshua Carruthers most certainly must have included Noah, of
biblical fame, among his clients.  Just watching him climb out of the
chair, my eyes got tired. Lord, when he lifted his hand to shake mine I
thought the poor bloke was going to suffer a stroke from just the very idea
of exercise. And then, to my amazement, this limp fish was dropped into my
hand. Bloody hell, I thought to myself, maybe I should just slip my hand up
to his wrist and check for a pulse.

Cathleen, returning the favour of my rescuing her from this dull and dreary
man, quickly stepped up to my side with a lovely tumbler of Queen Ann?
scotch with just a hint of ginger ale. I couldn't help but take a healthy
slurp of the delightful beverage, if for no other reason, but to put
feeling back into my right hand. Now revived, I waved my hand in a broad
sweeping motion to indicate that we should all sit. Cathleen, that sly fox,
vacated the chair next to Mr. Carruthers while Aaron, being Aaron, just
perched himself on the arm of his mother's chair. As we all got settled, I
looked over at Cathleen and raised my eyebrows as in asking her where her
husband was.

That woman's no fool. She immediately leaped into the discussion as if
anything she said might push the elderly gentleman along and out the
door. "John sends his apologies." She said matter-of-factly. "He was on his
way out the door when his boss called him back and they've been in a
hush-hush meeting ever since. He told me to tell you that all he wanted to
talk to you about was holding off on making any commitments on Aaron's
behalf tomorrow."

"Well, I wouldn't have done that actually." I said taking another sip of my
scotch. "I would have asked them if they could wait until one or both of
Aaron's parents were available."

"Which brings me to the subject of this meeting," intoned Mr. Carruthers
almost as an interruption.

'Bloody hell!' I thought as I listened to the elderly gentleman who
reminded me so much of that late, great British character actor, Robert
Morley, whom probably none of my readers would be likely old enough to
remember. The film critic Leonard Maltin once described Morley as
"recognisable by his ungainly bulk, bushy eyebrows, thick lips and double
chin, [...] particularly effective when cast as a pompous windbag."

I swear, this is the type of guy they would use in an interrogation
room. Slow, ponderous, long spaces between words, a guy who gives you the
impression he can't think on his feet but has to lay out every sentence in
his head before he makes the next announcement. But, I did get the
impression that this old gentleman, much like the late Mr. Morley, was far
more knowledgeable than anyone would give him credit for and had a mind
like a steel trap. It was bloody annoying if you ask me. But, it was also
very effective in keeping your attention riveted on him.

Actually, some years later, after I had developed my International Law
practice, I would think of Mr. Carruthers and often, Robert Morley, and
remember their unusual speaking style. I deliberately practiced it for a
while in front of a full length mirror until I got it just right and before
adopting it for use during the many meetings I would have including those
appearances before the International Court. Thankfully, I didn't have the
jowls yet but they would settle in over the coming years. It would drive my
colleagues mad because they knew it was not my normal method of speech but
more of a character I would adopt as if we were all part of a stage play
which, of course, we always were. After all, wasn't it William Shakespeare
in his play, 'As you like it' who said that "All the world's a stage."
Well, of course, any practicing lawyer would tell you that upon their
appearance in Court, it is the equivalent of entering the stage because you
are obligated to perform for the jury, for the honourable Lord Justice or
in the case of the International Court, Justices, your client be that an
individual, a corporation or a Country and, certainly, the spectators. One
of the reasons I never took up Corporate Law was because it was paperwork,
tons and tons of bloody paper being shuffled around until a bored decision
maker put a halt to it and rendered a decision that was most likely to be
appealed and then, true to form, the paper shuffle would begin all over
again.

And, while the International Court can also contribute to the world's paper
shortage, when it's a criminal case, there can be lots and lots of
drama. Even jurisdictional disputes can be dramatic as in the case of the
settlement of the George's Bank boundary lines between Canada and the
United States. The United States went into the case wanting 100% of the
George's Bank fishing territory while Canada went into the case hoping to
get 50% of the rights to the territory. In the end, the United States got
about two-thirds while Canada got the remaining one-third. The Americans
hated that decision because they considered the whole of the Banks were
theirs and Canada received the rest, including the areas known as the
Northeast Peak and the Northern Edge, which are rich in fish and
scallops. But, I've gone off on another tangent, haven't I? I had better
get back to our story.

For the next 40 minutes or so, Mr. Carruthers droned on. Then, assuming
that I'd understood everything he'd said, which I hadn't, he invited me to
put my signature to the document he'd been reading from, which I promptly
did. He also signed, Cathleen signed and then he took this portable seal
out of his briefcase, sealed the document and handed it to me. We were
done. Finally, bloody well done. He didn't even have that seal back in his
bag before I promptly stood up followed by Cathleen and Aaron who should
have been in bed but, as usual, the inquisitive boy had hung around.

Cathleen, swift as a frightened deer caught in the headlights of an
onrushing car, was quick to lead poor Mr. Carruthers to the door where I
shook hands with him; rather I took that limp fish in my hand again and
thanked him for taking the trouble to come all this way for such a trivial
matter.

"Not in the least a trivial matter, my boy," he said as he took Cathleen's
hand. Of course it wasn't trivial. The bill he would later send for time
and travel would be atrocious.

In seconds not minutes, we had him out the door and on his way. Cathleen
and I returned to the living room and collapsed in our chairs. Aaron, the
little sod, thought the whole thing was so funny that he laughed his fool
head off. He reminded me of the 'elephant skit' on the Carol Burnett Show
when Tim Conway was doing his funny stuff and Dick Van Dyke was laughing so
hard that he fell off the end of the couch. Well, Aaron was no better and
was laughing so hard at our discomfort that he fell off his perch. We
couldn't help but laugh too but I really wanted to pick the little sod up
and stuff him head first into the dust bin. He didn't last too long though
because his mother quickly sent him off to bed soon thereafter and we
attempted recovery.

Cathleen and I had another glass while she told me all about the job offer
her husband, John, had received. We talked a little about what she and her
husband thought about Aaron and his diving career and how the move out west
might affect him. Again, I warned her that next year was to be Aaron's
final year in High School and that he would certainly be reluctant to leave
his friends and go to a new school. Cathleen seemed to be very much aware
of the problems the move would cause for Aaron. What she didn't know is
that the little sod was sitting at the stop of the stairs listening to our
conversation. I'd seen his feet when I'd reached over to the coffee table
to pick up the 'Power of Attorney' and place it in my shirt pocket. I left
about 10:30p.m. As I was leaving Cathleen again thanked me for taking Aaron
to the meeting tomorrow and gave me a nice, sisterly, little peck on the
cheek.

The next morning I was up fairly early, had my coffee, set the timer on my
stove to remind me when I should get ready and leave to pick up Aaron from
school and settled down to draft another paragraph or two or three on my
paper. To tell the truth, I really don't remember getting any work done
when I suddenly heard the sound of the timer going off. Putting things
away, I poured myself a cold glass of diet pop, took my shower, shaved and
dressed in a blue short sleeve shirt, grey slacks and sandals. When I
checked in the full length mirror, I did my habitual routine of making sure
that I had my spectacles in my shirt pocket, my testicles were secure in
their pouch, I had my wallet in my back right hand pocket and I was wearing
my watch.

Actually, although I would hear this little ditty years later as part of
some movie scene where these two guys, one of whom could have been the
legendary Mel Brooks, are on an airplane, etc., My brother-in-law always
says the scene comes from the movie Nuns on the Run but I've never seen
that movie, at least I don't recall having done so, and I know I first saw
it in a movie where these two guys were on an airplane and one of them is
Jewish. So, we fight about it to this day.

For me though, it was always something my granddad would say in a very soft
voice, because he didn't want grandma to hear him, as he was putting the
finishing touches when he was dressing to go out. I remember distinctly
hearing the words, spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch because he did
wear glasses, I don't know about checking the testicles part (maybe because
he was older at the time, he felt it necessary to check if they were still
there), he kept his wallet in his left side suit coat pocket, and, he wore
a pocket watch in his right vest pocket. One day I asked him about it and
he merely said that he was blessing himself and asking the good Lord for a
safe trip. I remember him smiling down at me and me, I just collapsed on
the bed in gales of laughter.

Well, I was ready now so I locked up and slowly climbed into my trusty
beast of an old car. Every time I got into the car I had this rambling
thought that perhaps my brother-in-law was right and it was really time to
shoot the beast and consign it to the bone yard. But, every time I would
have that thought, it would be pushed out of my mind by nostalgia. I loved
this old thing even if it was getting up there in the dinosaur class and,
what no-one knew was that it was in this very car, during my first year of
college that I and the captain of the soccer team went for a drive up into
the mountains. He was three years older than I was and entering his final
year. I don't even remember the exact cut off now but I was driving and he
was the navigator. Somewhere out here in the great beyond, we took a cut
off. At his direction we stopped, got out and walked out into the field to
see the beautiful array of stars. After he had pointed out this, that and
the other constellation and the history behind their names, we returned to
the car and that's when the fun began.

Well, we don't need to get into all the details but I can say that after he
had pulled the lever on his seat and it had almost turned the passenger
seat into a bed, he had pulled me over and started to make out. Almost two
hours later I was manoeuvring the car back onto the highway on our way back
to the city. During that two hours he'd got me into that passenger seat,
had me on the bottom and slowly worked his way into the position where he
fucked my throat, not just the once, but twice. We enjoyed several other
bouts of animalistic coupling that year until his graduation after which he
left for his new life in Australia. Gawd, I missed him for quite a
while. But this is not my story, this is Aaron's story. So! Let's get back
to it, shall we?

As I was backing out of my driveway one of my neighbours waved and asked
about my sister, the fire breathing dragon. I assured her that they were
enjoying their trip to Ireland and suggested that when I got back I would
gladly have her over to see the pictures she had sent me. I really didn't
give her time to get into a deep discussion. I simply waved and drove off.

It didn't take me all that long to get to the school. There was a procedure
I had to follow which was to go inside, present identification, sign the
register and claim the body ?. Oops, I mean Aaron. One could just tell the
little sod was looking forward to getting out of the days schoolwork
because he was sitting on the bench just outside Brother Michael's
office. I hadn't expected Brother Michael to come out to speak with me but
he did. We passed a few minutes on pleasantries and chatting about nothing
and everything. As I shook his hand to leave with Aaron, he leaned in and
said just slightly above a whisper, if you need him for tomorrow, I have
already authorized it. Thanking the good Brother, I collected my charge and
headed back to the beast.

Surprisingly enough, the rugrat wasn't all that talkative until that
entrance door closed behind us and then he began flapping his gums about
nothing in particular and certainly nothing I would be interested in. I
asked him how much homework his teachers had given him and he replied that
it was very light. "They were all pulling for me to make the National
Team." He said with his most favoured scheming smile creeping across his
face.

Like a typical carnivore, the first substantive question out of him was,
"Where we gonna eat lunch, boss?"

Well!" I replied. "Your appointment isn't until 2:00 p.m. and you can have
your choice of McDonalds on the Square or, maybe, Bens. But maybe I'll just
fill you up on burger and fries instead of real food."

"The hell with that, boss. If you're paying, I'm going to Ben's. They make
the bestest smoke meat in the world." He said turning to me and giving me
his puppy dog eyes. Actually I really didn't care where we ate because I
wasn't paying. Cathleen had slipped me $100 as I was leaving last night to
pay any expenses.

"Alright," I said, "Ben's it is."

During the drive along the access road to the Expressway leading into the
City, Aaron seemed content to watch the farm tractors doing their thing in
the fields on both sides of the road. I was enjoying the quiet because
nothing was more annoying than Aaron getting his motor mouth in gear and
rambling on about nothing. But, then again, I thought about the time that
Aaron had gone into the city on the bus, turned Devon into a cocksucker and
had planned a weekend of debauchery with his mate, Dicky. Since I was well
aware that the peace and quiet would soon end and that Aaron would get on
to spouting off about some nonsense, I thought it best to channel the air
flow.



"So, Aaron. You never finished telling me about that weekend you spent in
the big city."



"And, you didn't give me any details about your weekend with Gjert up in
the mountains, so what's the problem?" replied the cheeky little bugger.



"I'm sure that what happened during my weekend with Gjert, although it was
fun, was not nearly as exciting as yours with your mate Dicky." I replied.



"Really boss? All that shagging going on and not one little itsy bitsy
juicy detail for me?"



"I'm afraid not. It was just a weekend of fine food, excellent wine, even
more awesome desserts. Did I tell you that Gjert was an excellent cook?
And yes, as you call it, a whole lot of shagging was going on in the living
room, the dining room, the bedroom and, while enjoying the beauty of the
sunset, on his lovely balcony overlooking the valley below. Short version
is that we both had a much needed oil change."



"Right, boss. I can just see how boring that type of weekend could
be. Remind me to get you to introduce me to Gjert one of these times."



"That's not going to happen, Aaron." I said looking into those twinkling
eyes of his.



"Why's that, boss?"



"Because I think you'd set about on a short term project of seducing my
bud." I said with a chuckle.



"Ah, come on. Won't you even share?"



Absolutely, I'll share. But only when you turn 18 and not a day sooner. I
really don't need a lifetime of grief nor do I want to meet a big man with
the nick of 'Bubba' in the prison system."



"You don't know what you're missing boss", the little scamming sod said
reaching down and giving his ample crotch a squeeze.



"I am very much aware, Aaron, but I can live with it." I said not wanting
this part of our conversation to get any randier than it was. "So tell me
what happened after you seduced Devon during the bus trip and you went on
to meet Dicky in the city."



"Well if you're not going to give me any more details on your weekend with
Gjert," he said with a mock sigh, "I guess I'll have to tell you my story
about my big weekend in the city."



We had just gone through the turnstiles at the toll booth on the expressway
and I tossed in my change.



"So!" I said. "If I remember rightly, you were going to meet Dicky at the
Churchill Station?"



"Yup. Once the bus arrived at the underground station Devon's mother, who
must have lost her battle to convert the two blue haired ladies, called for
her son. We got up and walked to the front of the bus where she was waiting
for him. We said our goodbyes and I wished him a great weekend. He just
looked at me as if I'd delivered a knockout punch to the jaw. I said my
very polite farewells to his mother and they took off for the east bound
train while I went towards the central line."

"One of these days I'll have to take the underground trains just to have a
look at these stations everyone raves about." I said turning my head to
smile at the boy.

"Actually, boss, the ones along the central line are quite artistically
done. The ones on the North, West and East lines are very colourful but not
as much artistic work was put into them. Maybe they ran out of money?"

"Like I said, I'll have to take a trip sometime to see."

"Are you telling me boss that you have never gone on the underground?"

'No! I didn't say that. I said I'll have to take a trip sometime to see. I
have been on the line from the bus station to the interchange station and
from there I have been on the central line going to the university. But, if
the truth be known, I was always reading either the newspaper or one of my
books and I've never taken the time to look up when we entered each station
along the line. So, I was suggesting, it was something I should do."

"Well, if you are into the artsy, fartsy stuff, it's something to
see. Maybe later today we can go for a ride on the central line of the
underground just so I can show you?"

"If we have time." I said trying not to give him too much hope that it was
something that was going to be on my agenda.

"So! About Dicky."

"Okay! Rob and I had agreed to meet at the Churchill Station around 6 or
so. I must have made the mistake of telling this little titbit to Dicky,
too, because when I got off the train, there he was? all 6 foot plus of
him. And, just as he wrapped me in a welcoming bear hug, I glanced over to
the escalators and there was Rod waiting for me."

"I'll bet that put a damper on your plans?"

"I really didn't know at the time but, as it so happens, it worked out
great for Dicky."

"How so?" I asked.

"Wait, boss. Don't rush me." The little sod replied with his usual cheeky
grin. "There is a sequence of events that took place after we met up and if
I don't get it right, I could drop a juicy, if you know what I mean,
detail."

"Aaron, you never drop details. You always seem to enjoy making sure I know
all the details."

"Ya wanna hear this story or not, boss?" he asked feigning annoyance at my
interruptions.

"Okay", I sighed. "No more interruptions."

"Well, there we were. Me, all wrapped up in Dicky's long, but strong,
tentacle like arms. There was no way I was going to easily get rid of Dicky
so Rod and I could, maybe, get down to some quick business so, looking over
Dicky's shoulder, I motioned him to come over to join us. I was getting the
feeling that Rodney was a 'go with the flow' type of guy who was adaptable
to evolving events because, once he understood my signal, he calmly walked
over to us.

Dicky and I separated and I introduced the two of them. I introduced Rod as
a pre-law student who was a friend who was helping me to come to grips with
what his courses consisted of, yada, yada. I certainly, not at that moment
in time anyway, wasn't going to introduce Rod as a cocksucker, now was
I. And, I certainly didn't want to deflate Dicky's enthusiasm for his plan
to take me to the Dragon Fly. It wouldn't have been fair."

"And did it work out?"

"Oh ya, boss. Dicky and Rod got on right from the start. Before we went to
have something to eat, Dicky invited us to go over to his place so I could
park my bag and get freshened up. He also indicated he wanted to take a
shower and change."

"Rod was okay with the plan?" I asked.

"Like I said, boss. Rod comes across as a guy who doesn't get all bent out
of shape when a plan changes. In fact, he reminds me somewhat of a cobra."

"How's that?"

"Well, he just goes with the flow until he sees and opening and then he
makes his move."

Did such an opening occur?"

"You're getting ahead of me again, boss."

"Oops! Sorry," I said in reply looking at him as I drew an impression of
closing a zipper across my mouth.


(To be continued)



Note: If you liked this little story, want to give constructive criticism
or just want to rant, feel free to drop me a note at FitzH1943@gmail.com If
you would like to hear more of Aarons adventures, drop me a note and let me
know.