Date: Sun, 26 Feb 2017 20:08:42 -0500 From: Eff Del <nolitimere156@gmail.com> Subject: Oak and the ash chapter 21 *Chapter 21* *By Eff Del* Nolitimere156@gmail.com *There is no such thing as time. Time is an illusion and a cage that we have created to imprison ourselves and constrain our lives.* * It has become more constrictive and controlling as we have become more technically advanced and civilized.* *Hours, minutes and seconds do not really exist; neither does a day, week, month or year.* *These are all artificial concepts that we've used to divide our life into segments rather than events and experiences.* *A "year" in our life should be lived based upon what we've done, felt, experienced and accomplished rather than an aggregate total of 8,760 hours or 525,600 minutes.* *Just thinking of it in those terms makes a year somehow seem trivial and pathetic.* *Don't compartmentalize life into pre-defined units...just live it.* *************************** His little boy snores made me smile as he slept cuddled against me. His head was resting on my shoulder and his arm was stretched across my chest and his leg across my waist. This had become our customary sleeping position since the first time we'd shared a bed and I adored it. It made me feel so loved and so loving. I never slept better than when he was with me and we slept this way. He was the boy that owned my heart and yet, he was so innocent of his own importance, that he didn't even realize it. I slowly stroked my fingers down his lovely butt cheeks and ran the fingers of my other hand through his thick silky hair taking time to stop and caress his ear. We'd had quite a day as we drove up the Maine Turnpike. It was essentially an Interstate Highway not anymore scenic than another. The rocky coast of Maine was well protected from the traffic of the travelers and therefore, pretty much invisible from the road. The Interstate Highway System (first conceived during the Eisenhower administration) was actually brilliant and propelled the United States into a new era decades ahead of what might have happened naturally. Suddenly, running through the vast nation became as plausible as a casual Sunday drive; suddenly unthinkable miles could be engulfed at mind breaking speed. Fifteen or twenty-five mile an hour speed limits posted on normal local roads were silly little rules that used to apply. Enter upon the modern new Interstates and you could race at sixty to seventy miles an hour and any slow pokes had better stay in the right lane. What used to be an all day trip now took a few hours. From the essentially rustic and wide spread nation that had entered World War II, in a short couple of decades, the nation had been stitched together into something cohesive and powerful. The thread of that stitching was the Interstate Highway system. There was a price to be paid for this of course. Towns and cities expanded and swallowed up land that had once been considered too rural to be important. The highways themselves had been institutionalized...turned cookie-cutter. All with a phony belt of trees and other greenery so as if to give the driver the illusion that his car was cruising through a forest of blissful vegetation. "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore..." Actually, you weren't supposed to think you were anywhere; you were supposed to drive and keep driving. The fact of course, was that everything was designed to keep things moving from point `A' to point `B'...to hide the highway traveler from whatever part of the country they were traveling through. No sights of poverty, no sights of urban decay, no sights of blight and just as sadly...no sights of natural beauty. The new highways were strictly for moving people from one place to another as quickly and efficiently as was possible. There was nothing evil in the concept, quite the contrary; it was brilliant and well thought out. The railroads are often credited with unifying the nation but, the truth is; it was the Interstate Highway system that actually did it. Sadly, if a flying saucer pulled your car up from the Maine Turnpike and set you down on I-95 in South Carolina, you would scarcely notice the difference. Such is the price of convenience. I'd known at the beginning that this would be a relatively boring drive and I'd gently warned him. Sean being Sean, had tried to `soldier it out', but eventually, his youth had overcome his macho and he'd fallen asleep. I smiled as I played with the radio until I found the local PBS station and drove on figuring that we'd stop to eat at some point after he woke up. Sean was so cute when he woke up. It was like a broth of confusion and enthusiasm. He stretched his arms and yawned widely. "Sorry Dad, guess I must have dozed off." I grinned. "Yep, guess you did little man. Are you feeling hungry?" He thought for a minute. "Yeah, I guess I am. How `bout you?" "Oh, I could eat I suppose." I didn't laugh as much as I wanted to. Little boys are always hungry. We were just north of Kennebunkport so I took the next exit and drove east towards the coast. It didn't take very long to find a Lobster Pound. Lobster Pounds are essentially rustic restaurants with very limited menus; fresh boiled Maine lobsters usually with very simple sides such as fried potatoes, Cole slaw and often: good thick chowder. Any place else in America these places would be called things like; `lobster shacks' or `lobster huts' but here in Maine, they've been called `lobster pounds'. I don't know if it's true or not, but I've been told that the name stems from the fact that originally these were spots where you could purchase fresh lobsters `by the pound'. I'd ordered us each a two-pound lobster with slaw and fries. Those were big lobsters but, I knew my appetite and I certainly knew Sean's "Just ovah yondah" the waiter said; "You could buy y'self a beeyah er two. We don't mind ya drinking them heyah." I thanked him for his advice though I smiled and thought to myself that the man could have almost been speaking a different language. I left Sean and walked the short distance down the road to the little store he'd indicated. The inventory wasn't very extensive so I settled on a six-pack of good old Budweiser and carried it back to the rough wooden table where Sean was waiting. Although Sean had eaten lobster meat before, this turned out to be the first time he'd had a whole Maine lobster placed before him and it took him aback. My mind flashed back to those first mornings when Martha was presenting him with different ways eggs could be eaten other than scrambled and he had that same baffled look on his face. I smiled because I knew my Sean and if there ever was a boy who was adventurous with food...this was the boy. He was however: perplexed. The red steaming carapace of the crustacean fresh from the boiling pot seemed to him to be an obstacle that was making enjoying his lunch un-obtainable. "Watch me Sean." I said and reached over my plate and twisted the tail off. He of course copied my actions and did the same thing. "Ouch! Hot." He grinned as he said it. I drove my fork in and extracted the white steaming meat. Pulling off a large chunk, I dipped it into the pot of melted butter, plunged it into my mouth, and smiled with pleasure. It certainly didn't take the kid long to catch on and the grin on his face was enough to make me reach over the table and squeeze his arm. It took us almost an half hour before we'd devoured our lobsters literally down to the bare shells. That feast included the fries and slaw. He sat back on his bench and smiled. His face glistening with melted butter. During the meal, we'd each had two beers and lots of conversation. I walked him over to the public restrooms and we washed our faces. "Dad, that was maybe the best thing I ever ate. No wonder Doctor Mohamed said he was sorry that he was gonna miss this." "Don't worry little man. Before we leave Maine, we'll ship a whole bunch back so that they all can enjoy it but, we've got to hit the road now." As we'd walked back to our car, I felt his arm wrap around my waist. "You're the best you know that don't ya?" I looked down into his turquoise eyes and felt my heart tug. I pulled him into me and said; "I don't know about that little man, but I do know that we're the best together and with your brothers...we're the best that ever was." "You bet Dad!" After getting back on the Maine Turnpike, we drove north until we'd reached Bangor and took the exit. Driving along highway 1A, we were soon in Bar Harbor. I owned a relatively small four-bedroom home on the hills overlooking Frenchman's Bay. The caretaker had been notified I was coming and unlike the incident in Georgia, everything was ready and waiting. It was late afternoon and as we unpacked, I asked him; "Tomorrow we can walk around the town and drive through Arcadia National Park. What would you like to do for supper tonight?" He gave me a `Sean smile' and said; "You're kidding right Dad?" I smiled and hugged him to me as he threw his body against mine; arms wrapped around my neck and legs around my waist. As we were so entwined, we ...or should I say; ` I' collapsed onto the bed laughing. "I guess that means lobster again eh little man?" He grinned up at me and we soon walked out of the door hand in hand and down the hill toward the village. This was a more formal restaurant than a lobster pound. It had proper menus and significantly more choices but there was never any doubt for us. We ordered pound and a half lobsters with fries, slaw and corn on the cob. I also ordered us each a cup of chowder. We were soon adorned with bibs because a mess was about to be made. It had only taken one lesson and little Sean was now an expert. He devastated his lobster meticulously like a doctor performing a dissection. Aside from enjoying my own meal, watching him devour his with precision was a source of the greatest pleasure. We climbed the hill back toward the cottage and we'd sat on the porch looking out over Frenchman's Bay. I pointed to my right; "Out there is Bar Island. You can only walk out there at low tide." I pointed to my left. "The Warf there is where the lobstermen come in and dump their catch. They each have their own designated areas out there and the floats for their traps are specially colored and marked. There is probably no place in the coastal waters of North America where areas are so fiercely protected. Killings have actually occurred over poaching lobster traps. Bar Harbor was established in the late 1700 hundreds and was named `Eden'...not the Bible Eden but actually after a guy...Sir Richard Eden. It became an exclusive vacation resort for the very rich...actually rivalling Newport Road Island and it had its own `mansion walk' on top of the hills overlooking Frenchman's Bay. It was quite a place. They changed the name of the town to `Bar Harbor' in 1918 and the place continued to be a rather exclusive area to vacation and boasted several hotels and a small colony of elite homes until the terrible drought of 1947 when a sudden and uncontrollable fire engulfed Mount Desert Island and destroyed most of the structures. Somehow, downtown was spared, including a few of the mansions, which are now part of the historic district. Most of the island is now Arcadia National Park. We'll tour it tomorrow. So come now, let's get to bed." He grasped my arm and pulled me close. "Dad, you sure know a lot of stuff don't you?" "Oh Sean, yes I know a lot of stuff but it's all stuff I'm interested in and once I learn it, I just don't forget it...kind of like how you are with music I guess." In our bedroom, I asked him to let me undress him. He'd smiled at me and actually blushed. I sat him on the bed and guided his tee shirt over his up-raised arms and then knelt down and removed each sneaker followed by his white socks. I paused briefly to play with each of his ten perfect little toes. This drew soft giggles of pleasure from him. He wasn't wearing a belt, so all I needed to do was pop the snap on his shorts and then slowly pull down the zip of his fly. Placing my hands under his arms, I stood him up and his shorts dropped down to his ankles. His smiling face gazed up at me as I looked adoringly down at him. I placed my thumbs under the waistband of his black boxer shorts. "These gotta go too little man." I almost mumbled as I worked them over his little hips and helped them down his smooth thighs. He calmly stepped out of his shorts and underpants and smiled unabashedly up at me. It reminded me of that first time long ago in my bathroom when he'd first stood before me ready to enjoy his first bath and Jacuzzi...the first time I'd seen him naked. He'd spread his little arms and smiled at me then and asked; "Am I alright for you?" As I remembered this, I felt my heart throb. From that long ago moment, nothing was more `alright for me' in this world than Sean. I lifted him up onto the bed and kissed his lips with a passion that almost made my heart break. He reached over to the bedside table and silently handed me the tube of KY I didn't need a hint and I quickly undressed. With an evil little boy grin, he raised his knees back up to his shoulders. I knew what to do and I did it. As I entered him, I paused and reflected upon how right this felt and what a miracle it seemed that we were together in this way. I moved in him slowly and he responded in perfect unity. It was loving in the most legitimate form; now well practiced and refined. It was a perfect combination of desire, affection and yes... lust. We moved with complete precision... each knowing the other's needs and desires. Our lips were locked together in gentle passion and my tongue probed his mouth and fairly danced against his own. Although he'd originally placed his feet over my shoulders, they'd slid down and his long strong legs were now wrapped around my back as he strove to pull me closer into him...to almost make us one body occupied by two souls. We came almost instantaneously. His young cock splayed his emission against his chest as he moaned out his pleasure. There could be no more expression of love than this. I cleaned him up with a towel I retrieved from the bathroom and then, pulled him to me and hugged him with a fierce passion that I was afraid might actually hurt him. I rolled over and he climbed on top of me and quickly fell asleep. It couldn't be any better and I followed him into dreamland very fast.