Date: Sat, 29 Mar 2014 20:41:22 -0400
From: Jake Preston <jemtling@gmail.com>
Subject: Psychic Detective 26

Psychic Detective 26
By: Jake Preston

This is a work of erotic gay fiction, intended for readers who enjoy a
murder mystery in which fully developed characters interact sexually and in
other ways. Their sexual encounters are sometimes romantic, sometimes
recreational, sometimes spiritual, and almost always described
explicitly. My attention is equally divided between narrative, character
development, and sex scenes. If you don't care for this combination, there
are many other excellent "nifty" stories to choose from. And remember that
while nifty stories are free, maintaining a website is not. Please think
about donating at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Writing is usually a solitary avocation, but not necessarily so on
nifty.org, where a longer story appears in installments. If my characters
and my story grab your attention, you can always intervene with suggestions
for improvements. All sincere comments will get a response!

Jake, at jemtling@gmail.com


       *  *  *  *  *  *


Chapter 26
Timberdays


      Ashawa is a village that has seen better days. Forty years ago, it
flourished as a farm- town, with 600 people. Now, with a population of 400,
it is two-thirds its former size. What happened? In the late 1920s, the
Swedish and Norwegian farmers established a Farmers' Cooperative, which
built the town's Creamery, Grocery, and Dry Goods Store. The Co-op was a
Scandinavian idea, transplanted to many farm communities in Minnesota. The
Creamery purchased milk from all the farmers. In the Grocery, all the meat
and eggs, and much of the produce, came from local farms. The Dry Goods
store sold manufactured clothing and hardware, but even there one could
purchase homemade furniture, quilts, rugs, and crafts of all kinds. As a
result of this bootstrap-economy, the farmers and townspeople of Ashawa
made it through the Great Depression and World War II without being ground
into poverty. Anyone could join the Co-op by paying an annual fee, and-in
most years-received a dividend at Christmastime, at a rate that was often
two or three times the amount of the membership fee.

      Then, in the 1950s, at the behest of J. Edgar Hoover, the FBI
investigated Farmers' Co- ops in Minnesota as pinko networks of Communist
sympathizers. Hoover nicknamed Minnesota the 'Red Star State' because of
its farmers' co-ops. During the height of McCarthyism, the local FBI Agent
in Duluth investigated Finnish farmers as suspected Communists. A rival IGA
Store came in, selling food products from elsewhere. Co-op memberships
declined, although non- members continued to benefit from the local
co-operative economy. Its mainstay was the Creamery, which allowed dairy
farms to flourish.

      The Ashawa Co-op made a comeback in the early 1960s, but that was its
swansong. It declined in the late 60s, and dissolved in 1969. What killed
off the farmers' co-ops was the refrigerator-truck. A dairy conglomerate in
Duluth started collecting whole milk from the larger farms, thereby
restricting the co-op service to smaller farms. The Creamery went out of
business.  Lacking this mainstay, the Grocery and Dry Goods Store went
bankrupt, too. Small farms- many of them very old homesteads-were abandoned
when their owners left to find jobs on the Iron Range or in the Twin
Cities. The town started losing population, too. Since the 1970s, Ashawa
has had depressed economy, except for the south shore of Lake Ashawa, where
summer tourists from the Twin Cities and Chicago bought lakeshore property
at low prices and built expensive homes.

      Tom Preston and Dark Eagle, and Göran Svenson's parents, were old
enough to remember a more prosperous farming economy in Ashawa, but
Göran, and Jake Preston, grew up in the new, reformed Ashawa, which had
become a de facto colony of distant corporations. If you're wondering why
Jake Preston deeded his family's Rice River homestead to the Ojibwe Nation,
or if you doubt that this could be so, you must realize that his land could
no longer thrive as a viable farm. Instead he made his living as an
author. Red Hawk had a different life-history.  He grew up on the Res in
Crane Lake and went to school in Orr, where half the students were Ojibwe
and almost all were trapped in relative degrees of poverty. His gay friends
in Ashawa got him into college, and Dark Eagle made sure that he played a
role in the discovery and study of the Ojibwe Monument-the breakthrough in
his career as an anthropologist. No one else in the world holds his title,
as official Anthropologist of the Ojibwe Nation.

      Contrasting the ups and downs of dairy farming, tree-cutting was a
reliable (albeit secondary) industry in Ashawa. It started in 1903 when the
railroad came through from Virginia to the Little Fork River, on its way
north to International Falls. Once the railroad came through, homesteaders
who were clearing their fields could sell pine logs to the Virginia-Rainy
River Lumber Company. During long winters, cutting trees was their major
occupation and an important source of cash. In 1940, when the worst of the
Great Depression was over, lumber camps came to the forest. A sawmill was
built just across the Little Fork River from the Railroad
Station. Lumberjacks and sawyers helped diversify the economy-not to
mention the male population! Ashawa Sawmill is less active than it once
was. For people driving from town to the lake, it's mountain of sawdust is
a signature monument. In earlier years, before refrigerators came to Lake
Ashawa, people would help themselves to truckloads of sawdust for their
ice- houses. A Christmas-tree factory was added in the 1950s. In the 60s,
when the marked for lumber declined, farmers and lumberjacks could still
cut pulpwood for transport by rail to the paper mills in Cloquet. In the
70s, demand for lumber returned and the lumber camps flourished
again. Lumber was transported either by rail or in trucks. The camps were
deep in the forest, but lumberjacks could be seen often in stores and in
Ashawa's two cafés. (In the North Country, a saloon or a sports bar is
called a 'café'.)

      In 1948, Ashawa's Chamber of Commerce established 'Timberdays', a
three-day summer festival to promote the local lumber industry. The main
events are a carnival and a series of Paul Bunyan-style contests in
wood-cutting, axe- and sledge-hammer-throwing, caber-tossing, and
pancake-eating. Timberdays opens with a parade, with cash prizes for high
school bands, floats, and children's costumes and exhibits. Ladies'
auxiliaries sell baked goods and meals at concession stands, to raise money
for local churches. In its earlier years, World War II vets marched in
uniform and used the occasion to recruit new members to the American
Legion.

      The Summer Solstice Powwow wasn't established until 2009. To maximize
attendance at both events, Timberdays is now held two weeks after Summer
Solstice. So far as Ashawa is concerned, one of the benefits of the Powwow
is that it attracts more Ojibwe participants to Timberdays. Not everyone in
Ashawa approved. Racism is still rampant, although it's gone
underground. But in 2010, Red Hawk persuaded the Chamber of Commerce to
allow an "Ojibwe Monument" float in the parade. Ojibwe people attended,
dressed in elaborate Indian costumes.  Their float won first prize that
summer (2010), and in subsequent years was a major contender.  In 2011, the
Ojibwe added a second float, designed to exhibit Native American crafts. In
two years, the Ojibwe transformed Timberdays into a 'must-see' event for
tourists staying at the resorts on Lake Ashawa. That was more than enough
to win the hearts and minds of resort- owners and businessmen. Indians were
accepted, as long as they added local color. Red Hawk proposed an addition
to the field-events, too: an archery contest. This was adopted with
enthusiasm, as it was a manly event, and during deer season, more white men
than Indians hunted with bows and arrows. Who would have known that Red
Hawk was the best archer in the county?

      Later that summer (2011), Red Hawk capitalized on his success by
organizing an Ojibwe Arts & Crafts Co-op, which opened a shop on Main
Street, in the two-story site of a defunct hardware store. They called it
'The Wooden Indian' and placed an eight-foot-high carved sculpture on the
sidewalk by the door. Business was brisk, even in winter after they
installed a coffee-bar at the front of the store. Customers could walk
through the store and observe Ojibwe craftsmen and women weaving blankets,
carving toys and sculptures, or assembling jewelry. A few Ojibwe people
grumbled that the wooden Indian sculpture was a relic of racism. Red Hawk's
reply: "The best way to combat a racist image is to appropriate it for your
own purpose.  That's sometimes enough to kick the racism out of it."

      Red Hawk had always liked Timberdays, even before he got involved by
organizing the 'Ojibwe Monument' float and the archery contest. If truth
must be told, he liked to cruise lumberjacks. He by-passed the carnival,
for he had little interest in twenty-somethings, and in teenagers none at
all. After the parade, he'd go directly to the playing field to wait for
the contests to begin-throwing the axe, throwing the sledge-hammer,
splitting lengths of tree-trunk in a single blow, and caber-toss, an event
borrowed from Scottish Games.

      Red Hawk's cruising never paid off. Eye-candy was his only
reward. That changed in 2011, when Red Hawk won first prize in
Archery. After the archery, a lumberjack who had won the stump-splitting
contest-a strongman named Kenny Johnson-offered to buy him a celebratory
beer at the American Legion concession stand near the carnival. "How about
a ride on the ferris wheel?" Kenny suggested. He didn't mind being seen in
public with Red Hawk.  They took their beers with them. Kenny quizzed Red
Hawk on some fine points of archery.  "There are no fine points in
stump-splitting," he said. "A sharp edge is all you need." They ended up
walking the railroad tracks away from the crowd and out of town. "Two more
miles down the road and we'll come to my place, if you're interested,"
Kenny said.

      "I'm interested," Red Hawk replied, "If you don't mind getting shot
in the ass by Cupid's arrow."


	"That would be a moon-shot," Kenny laughed. It was as close to an
answer as Red Hawk would get.

      During foreplay, Kenny made love aggressively, with a drive that was
tempered only by his consciousness of his asymmetrical physical
strength. He asserted embraces and kissed on Red Hawk, but stopped short of
overpowering him. Whatever Kenny was, he wasn't a passive bottom- Red Hawk
concluded- but Kennedy didn't resist when Red Hawk opened his ass with is
fingers. Kenny gave Red Hawk a rough-whiskered kiss, and held him in his
arms like a bridegroom preparing to ravish his bride, but when it came time
to fuck, he opened his legs and let Red Hawk mission him. After that he was
open to anything Red Hawk wanted, and Red Hawk wanted a lot.

      In the temporary calm of aprčs-sexe- temporary because their time
together was far from over- Red Hawk asked Kenny if he was really a bottom
at heart. "First you fuck the crap out of me. Then you question my
sex-creds," Kenny quipped.

      "It's just that you make out so aggressively, not that I'm
complaining," Red Hawk said.

      "I can be what you need me to be, if we decide to become lovers,"
Kenny replied, "but as for TBV, I'm not getting pigeon-holed into a
category."



      * * * * * *


      Life on Lake Ashawa returned to uneasy stability. The cause of unease
was the knowledge that two serial killers were still at large. In the
absence of Deputy Nelson, Sheriff Matthews appointed Göran Svenson as
Acting Deputy Sheriff for Ashawa and Orr, and recommended him to the County
Board for promotion from Sergeant to Inspector. We wrote to the Board:

      "We have evidence that a pair of serial killers is again active in
the Ashawa region.  Therefore, I believe that the region needs law
enforcement leadership at the Detective Inspector level. What we now know
about the serial killers came to light largely through the investigative
work of Detective Sergeant Göran Svenson. For this reason, I recommend
Svenson for the position of Detective Inspector. If he is appointed, he
will serve concurrently as Acting Deputy Sheriff. In the event that Deputy
Nelson is able to return to his post, Svenson will continue in the Ashawa
Office as Detective Inspector."

      Naturally Sheriff Matthews was aware of the publicity surrounding the
Five Spirits / Eight Eagles crime scene. The story appeared in the North
Country Advocate on Monday, and parts of it were published in other
newspapers in Wednesday. He refrained from mentioning that to the Board. It
was a time for diplomacy. Not only that: Matthews foresaw an objection to
Göran because he is gay. He advised Göran and Jésus to take out a
marriage license in the Duluth Court House.

      Göran moved in with his parents on the Svenson homestead. Jésus
lived with them on Sundays through Wednesdays. The rest of the week, he
lived in his flat in Superior and worked at Apollo's as the chief
bartender. When Ron Matthews met with the Board to confirm Svenson's
promotion, one of the Board members objected because of his relationship
with a man, whose name was unknown to him. "I discussed that with Svenson,"
Matthews replied. "I interviewed Jésus García Moreno, too. It seems
they're a monogamous couple. They intend to get married under Minnesota
State Law. We're in unexplored territory here, but because same- sex
marriage is legal in Minnesota, the Board cannot lawfully veto Svenson's
promotion on account of his prospective marriage to Mr. Moreno."

      The Board tabled the matter pending further investigation. Events
confirmed Sheriff Matthews's foresight. An inquiry in the Court House
disclosed that Svenson and Moreno had taken out a marriage license prior to
Matthews's recommendation of promotion for Svenson.  Very likely the Board
could not have barred Svenson's promotion in any case, but Matthews
succeeded in check-mating them after they bought into the marriage-license
as an issue.  "Whatever works," Matthews told Svenson. "Of course, this
means that now you'll have to get married!"

      "I'm ready for that," Göran said. "How ironic that a homophobic
Board member ends up insisting that a Sergeant must get married to a man to
prove himself eligible for promotion to Detective Inspector!"

      "Well, as for homophobes, logic was never their strong point,"
Matthews said.



      * * * * * *



      On Saturday morning, a stylish dark-haired woman named Sheila
Crawford inquired about rentals at Wayward Island Resort. "Rooms in the
lodge rent by the day. Cabins rent by the week, Saturday to Saturday during
the summer," Tom Preston told her. She decided on a cabin for privacy, and
paid for a week, but she spent much of her time lounging in the lodge and
by the docks, 'people-watching' as she called it. The people she seemed
most interested in were Dmitri and David. 'Maybe she has a romantic
interest', Tom thought to himself. 'If only she knew how hopeless it is!'

      On Monday afternoon, Sheila asked Dmitri to take her for a ride
around Wayward Bay in the Kris Kraft if he wasn't too busy. She got rather
flirty, and asked him to take off his shirt, which he did. Afterward, she
gave him a tip, and said she'd give him a bigger tip the next day, if he
took her on a boat ride and modeled a red sunga that she bought in Rio de
Janeiro. While they boated around some islands to look at eagles and loons,
she took pictures, mostly of Dmitri. On Wednesday she asked if David could
come, too. "I think he'd look better in a speedo than a sunga," she said,
and tossed him a red speedo to give to David.

      On Thursday, she took pictures of Dmitri in his sunga and David in
his budgie-smuggler while they were out in the Kris Kraft. "If you want us
to pose nude, Sheila, all you have to do is ask," Dmitri offered.

      "What I'd really like is a trip around Five Spirits Island," Sheila
replied. "I've heard it's got eight eagle nests, and it's famous. I'd like
to see it."

      "That's a longer trip, but tomorrow is the day of the Timberdays
parade, so the Resort won't be busy," Dmitri said. "We'll have to ask
Tom. If it's okay with him, we can go there tomorrow and make a
landing. You'll be able to get some pics on the island."

       Sheila pouted.

      "Look," Dmitri said, "if you can wait 'til tomorrow, we'll make it up
to you by posing starkers."

      "On the island?" Sheila asked.

      "In the boat, on the island, wherever you want," Dmitri said.

      Sheila agreed.