Date: Thu, 9 Feb 2006 23:02:20 +1100 (EST)
From: george <dog_oocl@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: Brotherhood 12

Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of male/male sex
between consenting adults. If that sort of thing bothers you, or you are a
minor, or it is illegal for you to read this type of content under the laws
of your area, don't read any further.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is
purely coincidental.  Accolades, encouragement, suggestions, comments, and
corrections are welcome and gladly accepted. Flames will be utterly
ignored. dog_oocl@yahoo.com.au


Chapter 12.

"Young man, you have a sharp tongue" She could talk.  But, I must admit,
sharp tongue good for rimming, just ask your son.

"Street solicitation is illegal in this State" joined in Warren, that
handsome hypocrite.

"Oh, what about the guys who come looking for sex?  Are they not partners
to crime"

"Father, it there is no demand, then the will be no supply.  I'm the guilty
party, I was the demand chain" David came to my rescue. Good man.  Supply
and demand, catchy phrase, must remember that.

"So, offering sex in the open is illegal, but offering sex behind doors is
legal!"

"I'm afraid that the law, selling sex in public is illegal"

"Hypocritical shit, pard' my language, money changed hands for sex, bimbos
got paid in jewelry for sex, are not prostitution, and they are done behind
closed doors, are all legal?"  I stressed the word BIMBO.

While I was talking to Warren, I was looking at Dana, checking her
reaction.  Oh, she was angry, not towards me, though, funny enough.  She
was staring straight at Warren, with looks that could kill.  He was the
pussies chasing unfaithful husband, plenty of monies being spent on the
BIMBOS alright, just read the tabloids.  Warren was squirming in his chair.
Round two, things heating up.

"Lets skip this unpleasant conversation, I'm a bit hungry, I hope you are
too, Judy?"  Changed tack.  Bell ringing, back to your corners.

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Berg"

"I've asked the cook to prepare some Japanese and Thai dishes, I think
you'll like them, do you use chop sticks?"

"Be honest with you, Mrs. Berg, Josh and I have never been to any Japanese
or Thai restaurants, so, it will be new experiences for us, forks and
knives for us, if that's OK"

The so called Japanese disches were bloody, yes, bloody raw Tuna, and some
sea urchin's roe wrapped in rice and seaweeds.  We didn't know what they
were until we tasted it.  Mom nearly threw up, but she managed to keep it
in, determined not to embarrass David in front of his parents.  I wasn't so
polite, I spitted it out onto my plate, "Beg your pard', we country folks
not used to eating raw seafood"

"Oh, these Tuna Sashimi, and sea urchin's roe Sushi are considered
delicacies in Japan" Condecending bitch, she tried to humiliate us for
being unsophisticated.

"Well, Mrs. Berg, I think that's the reason why the Japs lost the War, too
much raw seafood and their soldiers got diarrhea" David giggled.  Not
funny, brother.

Then followed the Thai dishes, me and my mom were on fire, right from the
first mouthful.  Our genuine Hot Lips.  David asked if mom would like
something else instead, "No, no, I'm fine, thank you David" Every fucking
kind of chillies and curries were served, I dearly loved to splash some
onto Warren's prick and Dana's pussy.  We drank tons of ice water trying to
put out the fire.  You should hear the curses coming out of the toilet next
morning, my arse was on fire.

"Is everything alright, Judy?"  "Oh, fine, thank you Mrs. Berg" Dana was
having fun.  Round three, our noses bloodied.  That cunt.

The rest of the lunch was a nightmare.  We struggled through.  Not much
conversation went on after the earlier chitchat analysing my last job.  I
couldn't wait to get out of that place.  We were despised, looked down at.
But your son was still with me, dear Mrs. Berg.  Hurriedly said our
good-byes, we escaped from prison.  I was still hungry, so David rolled
into KFC, it was finger licking good.  We were eating quietly for 10
minutes, then David said "Diarrhea, eh!"  We burst out laughing, mom was in
tears.  Lips still on fire?

When we got home that afternoon, light was blinking on the answering
machine.  Message from Acacia Ridge local copper.  We guessed it must be my
old man playing up once again, probably looking for bail.  Mom called them
up. After listening for 10 minutes or so, she put the phone down "Josh, the
police told me your father is dead" "What?"  "Yes, he was picked up last
night by the police for violent behavior at the local pub, the duty
sergeant found him dead in the cell this morning, apparently he hung
himself by his shirt, I must return home to sort things out as soon as
possible, David, I'm so sorry to trouble you again, could you be kind
enough to book a flight for Josh and I?"  "Hey, no trouble at all Judy, as
a matter of fact I think I should go with you guys" "Oh, David, we should
able to manage" "No, I insist".  No argument, got to watch out for his
bossiness.

Money made things happened.  We were on the next available flight to
Brisbane.  Arrived Acacia Ridge just before midnight, checked into a local
motel.  Mom was sad, a bit teary.  She still had her black dress on, well,
my funeral remark came true, got to watch out for what I said in future.  I
was sad too, not for the old man, but for mom.  I knew she loved the old
man, hard not to after 20 years together, bad time, good time, birth of
Jenny, birth of me, death of grannies, alcohol, me left home, death of
Jenny, now him.  14 good years, 6 bad years.  Too much memories.  Death
cancelled out all bad things he did, now on, only the goods things would be
remembered.

I snuggled up to David that night, air conditioner humming, I felt cold.
Heat from his body kept me warm.  His arm around my neck, stroked my
shoulder gently, kissed the back of my neck.  I felt safe, I felt loved.
My old man came and said good-bye to me in my dream that night.

Next morning, we went to the station around 8:30, the duty officer
organised transport to take us to the morgue to ID the old man.  Fucking
miserable place.  We had to take hold of mom's arms so she wouldn't fall
over.  We were told there would be a coronial inquest for the old man's
death, but the body would be examined by the government doctor to confirm
cause of death, which should be completed within the next 24 hours, then we
could collect it and organise the funeral.  But the result of the inquest
could take several months to complete.  We were given a business card from
some funeral director the minute we got out of our car, the funeral
arrangement was the easy part. Mom wanted cremation for the old man, same
as Jenny, she said. The funeral rep wasn't overjoy.  Not much commissions
in cremation, I reckoned.

We went back to the police station to complete the paper works, signed
this, signed that.  Afterwards, we went home to sort out whatever was left
behind.  It was a pigsty.  Piles of unopened mail, old news papers, slashed
sofa, broken tables, broken glasses, smashed chairs, a mountain of wine
bottles, beer bottles, vomits everywhere, no electricity, it had been cut
off since mom left.  Mrs. Newman filled us in all the missing bits.  We
borrowed a local yellow pages from Mrs. Newman, David rang a cleaning
contractor and arranged for them to clean out the garbages. Not for us to
move back in, but to return to the housing commission.  Mom went into our
bedroom, looked under Jenny's bed, found the photo album she was looking
for.  The only thing she wanted from our past.

Only three of us and the Newmans were at the cremation, our old man wasn't
a popular figure.  We went to a local restaurant for meals and a quick
drink, a wake, sort of.  Mom held the urn tightly. A collection of the
Biggs' urns?  "Rockhampton" "What about Rockhampton, mom?"  "I'll take his
ashes to Rockhampton, to be with your grannies, he missed his parents every
day since their death, so, together again, yes, I'll do that"

We took a commuter's flight to Rockhampton.  Found our grannies' graves.
Mom asked if David would be kind enough to read some passages from the
bible, the old man was a church goer before the alcohol took over his life.
David delivered some passages from memories.  Loved that deep and sexy
voice, soothed my soul, soothed mom's pain.  Mom did a little prayer, I
just stood and watched.  After she emptied the urn, "thank you so much,
David, we will never be able to repay you, for all the things you've done
for me and Josh" "You are my family, Judy, nothing is too much for the
family" He had well and truly cemented his position as her son-in-law right
there and then.

When we returned to Sydney, we were exhausted.  The last thing I wanted was
a knock-out round with that super bitch Dana Berg, it came too soon.  But I
was ready, or was I?


To be continued....