Date: Sat, 26 Mar 2016 18:01:43 -0400
From: Eff Del <nolitimere156@gmail.com>
Subject: The Oak and the Ash-Chapter 11

*Chapter 11*

By Eff Del

Nolitimere156@gmail.com



*Life is not unlike a game of golf. If you hit a `hole in one' every time,
you would soon lose interest. *

*In order to keep it fun, you've got to hit the ball into the rough and
even into the woods on occasion.*

*Those wild shots are what keep the game enjoyable.*

*Life is just like that but without caddies.*



Will sat with his foot propped up on an ottoman as he sipped his glass of
scotch. I'd insisted that until his ankle healed that he was going to stay
at Joyous Gaurde and despite his young and rakish nature,  he didn't
protest. He knew a good thing when it was offered to him.

I really liked this guy.

Though his ankle was still in a small cast, by now, he was getting around
pretty well, just using a cane (which in his case, actually made him look
suave and swashbuckling).

This was an informal security meeting but I'd felt Will should be a part of
it because he had been the first to openly express his belief that the
crash of the well-maintained pontoon plane was not an accident but,
intentional sabotage.

It had also been Will that suggested that rather than have the salvaged
parts of the plane brought back to where I usually stored it and had it
maintained, that we bring it to another location he knew about.

Will had been working very closely with Richard and his `Henchmen' as well
as with Scotty Browning the Owner/ Manager of `Browning Aviation' where
we'd had `Duck' brought for evaluation.

Richard sort of waved his bound document and there was a smoldering anger
in his eyes.

"So, this is Browning's report on the cause of the failure. You've all read
it, we've evaluated it and there can be no doubt.

Someone deliberately attempted to force a plane filled with Eric's family
down...three kids that we all love and included in those deaths would have
been our friend Will Fletcher here.

We need to find out who and why and we need to do that quickly."

Chris interjected;

"In the meantime though, wouldn't it be wise for Sean and his plane mates
to wear parachutes every time they fly?"

Will grinned bitterly.

"Might be a slight chance when it's only Sean and his teaching pilot but
with the plane fully loaded with passengers, by the time everyone got out,
they'd be too low to the ground for them to help. The type of plane Sean is
currently flying just doesn't go that high Chris. That's why parachutes are
seldom standard equipment for recreational flyers.

Aside from that, any future attacks against one of the family planes will
certainly be less subtle. "

"Chris, for the time being, I've told Sean that he won't be flying.

He's not a baby and he understands why. He will go along with it and
there'll be no argument...he is my son and beyond that, he is Sean."

Chris nodded his head.

"Well, we've got a trained agent working at the Sea Port where the sabotage
had to have occurred."

Richard had rolled his copy of the report into a tight little bat.

"He's got a great deal of experience and he's been using Will for inside
information. He feels that he's getting close and I suspect we'll have a
name very soon and then, we're going to know just what is going on.

It would take someone with a great deal of hate and quite an agenda to
attempt to wipe out an entire generation of one family don't you agree?"

Richard still had that steaming dry anger in his eyes as he ended his
comments..

"Well guys, until we know more about this, let's try to get on with life
while staying vigilant?

Who needs a new drink?"

Chris got up and helped me and we quickly freshened everyone's glass.

"On a brighter side, tonight the boys are finally going to open the first
bottles of their second batch of pale ale and you are all very welcome to
join us here to pass comment. In fact, you guys should just join us for
supper."

That was met with a great deal of positive response because, while the
commissary where most of the staff ate, served wonderfully good food that
would rival or beat most restaurants, the truth was that food served from
Martha's kitchen was more than five cuts above that and in some private
circles was famous worldwide.

Somehow, it never bothered Martha when I invited people for dinner at the
last minute. She just always seemed ready.

I used the intercom over to the kitchen to warn her of our additional
guests.

She laughed and said;

That's perfect Eric because I've been watching over Sean's shoulder as he
makes a gigantic tray of lasagna.

I'll make a salad and some garlic bread and Daniel can fetch you up a
couple of bottles of appropriate wine.

You know me; I always think that Merlot is the `appropriate' wine."

She giggled.

"How big is his tray of lasagna Martha? May I invite Gary and Bobby?"

"Absolutely Eric, this little boy of yours doesn't know how to cook
`little' so, the more the merrier."

"Hi Dad! You guys are gonna love this!" Sean's voice sounded from the
background through the speaker of the intercom.

"Hi Sean! See you later boy."

I told everyone that we'd meet here before dinner and I got up to find Jack
and Brian.

I found Daniel and asked him if he knew where they were and he smiled.

"Those two are off fighting the Battle of Agincourt."

I smiled realizing that meant the two boys were at the new archery range
because English archers against superior French troops had won the Battle
of Agincourt for King Henry V in 1415.

As I pulled up in my cart, I could hear them laughing. I got up and walked
behind them. I quietly enjoyed their banter and taunting as they carefully
launched arrows from their hi-tech bows.

>From what I could see, their skills were vastly improved and the pattern of
each of their arrows were tightly clustered in the area of the bull's eye.

"Have you tried shooting apples off of each other's head yet?"

I said as I walked up behind them.

They looked at me a bit incredulously and then broke out in laughter.

I felt my heart swell.

The honest laughter of boys is a music that is unique in nature.

It is a symphony of happiness, mischief and pure pleasure.

The laughter of boys begins deep in their toes and explodes out into the
welcoming world.

Sometimes it is so overwhelming that they themselves cannot control it and
they simply physically give into the pure pleasure of the experience.

I think it is a force that helps the wind blow, the sun to shine and the
stars to twinkle.

There is no finer sound in the world.

As men, we laugh of course.

If we're lucky, we laugh often.

But, we never laugh with the full `body and soul' joy that we did when we
were boys. Some precious and important component is lost in that sad
transition from boyhood to manhood and try as we might, it can never be
recovered.

When we are boys, we cannot wait to run that mad dash into manhood. To
complete that journey from youth to adulthood and to take our place in the
world.

We have no idea that exodus will relieve us of our innocence, our pleasure,
and our ability to truly laugh.

When we are men, we accept what we have become though we often secretly
recall dimly how much sweeter life was when we were a youth.

Finally, we take melancholy pleasure in listening to the laughter of boys
and remembering faintly the total pleasure of it.

"You are certainly gaining skill my two sagittariis."

They looked at my quizzically and I realized that they didn't recognize the
word.

" Sorry for being so erudite, `sagittariis' is Latin for `archers' and you
two are certainly that I see.

By the way, you DO know that I was kidding about shooting apples off of
each other's head right?"

The world was once again filled with the music of boy laughter.

"Your brother is preparing supper for everyone and I was wondering if you
two would like to go up to Lake Eric and do a little fishing with me. We
don't even need to bother Professor Swaim though I suspect he'll want to
join us."

"Sounds great Dad, just let us clean our equipment and put it in the shed."

It took them less than twenty minutes before everything was cleaned and
stored. We hopped onto my cart and headed out to Fish Camp.

It was almost as if Doc Swaim was expecting us. He was sitting on the porch
of the cabin and he smiled as we pulled in.

"From my mouth to God's ears!"

He jumped up smiling his big toothy smile.

"I wanted to go fishing today but I didn't want to go alone.

Jack and Brian, go get our gear and let's see how we do on the north end of
the lake.

The hot sun has been beating down on the Southside so I suspect that the
fish have moved to the other edge."

I'd brought a cooler filled with beer and cold cut sandwiches. The boys
carried it as we walked down the pathway along the north of the big pond.

"This looks like as good a spot as any"

 Doc declared and so the boys set down the cooler and quickly staked out
their spots.

I knew that Doc always preferred the south side of the lake but today it
seemed he thought our chances were better on the north side.

I opened the thermal chest and handed out cold beers to everyone and then
picked my spot and cast out my line.

It was a beautiful day. The birds were singing in the woods and there was a
gentle little breeze blowing from the east to the west.

In congenial silence, we all four cast our lines and slowly reeled them in
until suddenly the silence was broken;

"Got one! Got one!"

Brian was up on his feet playing his rod and reel with a gigantic grin on
his face.

"Work him Brian! You know what to do." Doc Swaim encouraged the boy.

Brian's rod was almost bent double so this was certainly no small fish.

As I watched this fight I marveled at what great fishermen all three of my
boys were and I realized that was all about Doc Swaim.

What Andy was to shotgun shooting, the Professor was to fishing. These were
three lucky boys.

As the turbulence drew closer to the shore, Doc Swaim grabbed the net and
brought the fish in.

It was a monster. I'd never seen a bass this big pulled out of Lake Eric.

Brian had a glorious grin on his face.

I retrieved my iPhone.

"Hold him by the tail and let's take a trophy picture Spiderman."

The first shot was perfect and the next day it was framed and hanging in
his bedroom.

Shortly though, Brian had removed his hook and set the great fish loose
into the lake.

That was how Doc Swaim had taught them.

We spent the afternoon drinking beer and eating sandwiches while we each
caught and released a number of fish though none equaled Brian's large bass
earlier.

"Are you coming down for supper and then the ale tasting Doc?"

He (typically) pushed his dark eyeglass frames up the bridge of his nose
and smiled.

"Of course I'll be there for both occasions Eric. These are family affairs
and as you so kindly told me when we talked about the future, this is my
family."

I got teary.

"Thanks Doc. See you later."

The boys and I climbed into the cart. We'd decided to let Brian drive and
soon, we were parked and plugged in on the car park.

"Can we go see little Walt Dad?"

Brian was entranced by the baby boy.

"Well, we can go ask Jenny but there may be a lot going on including the
baby sleeping and Jenny won't want that disturbed.

We knocked on the apartment door and Jenny answered with a smile.

"Hi guys. What's groining on?"

"Jenny, can I see little Walt?"

Brian's need was obvious.

"Well actually Brian, he's just woken up from his nap and I'm about to give
him his bath.

Would you like to help me with that?"

"Yes...is that OK Dad? I just love this little baby and I want him to love
me. He's the little brother that I always wanted and never had."

"Of course you can help with little Walt's bath Brian. We'll all get
together in the library before supper."

As Jack and I left, Brian was holding the naked little boy in a loving hug
as Jenny filled the tub with warm welcoming water.

I thought to myself that I'd seldom seen anything so beautiful.

Jack left me so that he could go work out in the gym and I decided to go
down to the library to read.

Nate Mentor had not come out with a new book yet but Bernard Cornwell, my
favorite historical fiction author had and I poured myself a drink and sat
down eagerly; opening the cover and began devouring the pages.

At some point, the apple of my eye came prancing through the door.

"Here you are Dad!

Looks like you're readin' can I come an sit with you?"

"Little man, you can come and sit with me whatever I'm doing. How is
tonight's dinner coming along?"

He softly laid down on top of me and worked his little fingers through my
hair. He was a very sensuous boy.

"It's already in the oven and baking very slowly. It will be perfect."

"I have no doubt about that since you're involved little man.

Go grab a book and lie down with me."

"Yea, I've been readin' this book called `Silas Mariner' that Professor
Swaim recommended. It's kinda strange and not a lot of fun but I guess I'll
keep up with it."

He got up and retrieved the book from the shelf and lay down at the other
end of the coach and we played `footsie' with each other as we read.

Nothing could have been more perfect or more wonderful.

The guys began entering around five o'clock and I played the jolly
bartender.

"No businesses talk tonight." I warned them.

"Tonight we eat Sean's lasagna and then taste the boy's pale ale.

They all accepted their drinks and nodded in agreement.

Richard accepted his drink and spoke softly;

"But there is news Eric. We know who did the damage to the plane."

I nodded my head and said;

"Then grab him and we'll talk and deal with him tomorrow."

He nodded and said;

"Then excuse me for a moment."

He left the room and I turned to my other guests.

"The last lasagna that Sean made was astonishing so I have great hopes for
tonight's dinner.

Let's all have one final drink and by then, we should head down to the
dining room.

Tim was quickly by my side and we soon had every glass in the room filled.

Richard came back into the room and nodded to me. Tim quickly filled his
glass and therefore, nothing was noticed.

My little boy proudly paraded into the dining room carrying a large pan and
he was followed by one of the kitchen workers carrying an equally large pan.

These were placed upon the table and Martha entered carrying a huge bowl of
tossed greens salad.

Another kitchen worker entered carrying a basket of fresh baked Italian
bread and Daniel placed three bottles of Chianti rustico in front of me. I
told him to serve everyone without formality.

I knew this was Martha's recipe but from the first bite, I knew the touch
of Sean and it was delicious.

The table was silent as they devoured the treat and I just smiled as I
watched my little boy eat the meal that he'd created.

It was only over two years but in that time, this young man had completely
changed my life. It was a forever change and I adored him.

Next to him sat Jack and Brian and my heart flooded with love. My three
boys. We had somehow found each other and become a strange almost unnatural
family.

We were certainly not like any other family in the country but we were a
family...a tight and loving family that cared for each other and loved each
other desperately.

They were the Tucker brothers...not bound by blood but bound most surely by
love. My eyes grew teary but none were shed.

It was the night after the full moon and the entire world was bathed in
silver.

I was in my underpants and looking out the window just relishing the
amazing view.

He was so quiet that he took me by surprise as he wrapped his little arms
around me.

I turned and looked into his turquoise eyes and I leaned down and kissed
him.

"Your lasagna was wonderful Sean. Everyone loved it."

"Thanks Dad."

"Much more importantly, I love you."

"Me too Dad. Thanks."

"Come and let me cuddle with you son."

"And other stuff too Dad."

We climbed up onto the bed and enjoyed the feel of flesh upon flesh. When
our passion was over, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

Just before sleep overtook me, I thought that tomorrow I needed to find and
question the man that tried to kill my family. Mercy was the last thing on
my mind.

***********************************

Sorry that a health backslide has made this chapter so long in coming.

Thank you for your feedback. Some of you are so faithful and beloved that I
can't even express my gratitude. I hope you know who you are.

Feedback is all we get as authors and those of you who take the time to
write a short note are what keeps these stories coming.