Date: Wed, 9 Sep 2009 23:36:19 -0400
From: Sequoyah Pendor <sequoyahs.place@gmail.com>
Subject: Saga of the Elizabethton Tarheels--Chapter 54

Saga of the Elizabethton Tarheels
Chapter Fifty-four
Warnings:

As previously posted with this story.

Thanks to Scott and Jess who make me appear a great deal better than I am.

Chapter Fifty-four

We were totally relaxed and happy, lying in each other's arms, looking at
each other with silly grins on our faces. "You know, Lord of my Heart, we
can't stay here forever," Justin finally spoke.

"But we don't have to go yet," I replied, stretching like a lazy
cat. "Maybe tomorrow or, better yet, next week. Anyway, what's with this
Lord of my Heart?"

"Ran across it reading a story set in India. Lord of my Heart was the hero
and it's just how I feel about you."

"Wish I had found it first," I said in a pouty voice.

"But you didn't," Justin laughed, kissed me and started to get up.

"I did find a name for you, but I'm afraid you'll not like it."

"And it was?"

"Tehila."*

"And?"

"Well, you're half Lakota, right?"

"So I have been told and definitely have the color to go along with that."

"Well, did a bit of research and Tehila in Lakota means lover -- well, I
think it does and anyway, that's what it means to me, my Tehila. You're my
beautiful Tehila."

"You do know you are beautiful too, Lord of my Heart." Of course, Justin
soon shortened my pet name to Heart and, even at that, we seldom used our
pet names except when we were alone. After a few more kisses, Justin asked,
"Think we could get in a bit of sailing before we have to go back?"

"Your wish is my command."

"I'll clean up and straighten up," Justin said and started by stripping
linen from the bed. We'd take it home and launder it. While, obviously, Mom
and Clarisa knew we were `sexually active,' we made an effort not to rub it
in, generally laundering our own linen, underwear and PJs to hide some of
the evidence. Clarisa had, on one occasion, commented that we did more
laundry of such than some families. When she had, Justin had earned a swat
by saying, "Poor love-starved parents."

I started the motor, weighed anchor and, by the time Justin had finished
below, headed for the mouth of our inlet. When Justin came from below, he
handed me my shorts and took over the tiller while I pulled them on. As he
handled the boat, I applied sunscreen to those parts of my body I could
reach -- and not covered by my shorts. I took over sailing as Justin
finished the job.

As soon as we passed the mouth of the inlet and entered the ocean, there
was an excellent breeze indeed, wind of fifteen to twenty knots from the
north-northwest. Justin laughed as he unfurled all our sail and soon we
were skimming across the sea, headed south. "You realize we're going to
have to do a lot of tacking to get back," I laughed at my beautiful Indian
lover who was standing at the bow, his long hair loose and blowing in the
wind.

As we sailed south, we approached another inlet and just before we reached
it, a cigar boat shot out of it at top speed and raced toward the open
sea. "What the fuck was that about?" Justin exclaimed as we both grabbed on
the boat's rail as it pitched in the wake of the powerful boat.

"Looks like the boat we saw at a distance a week or so ago," I responded.

"Yeah, and I have the same question now I had then: what is a boat like
that doing in these waters?"

"Maybe we better report it to the coast guard since he definitely wasn't
boating in a responsible and safe manner."

"Maybe so," Justin said, "but right now, I have something else in mind. And
anyway, I didn't see a registration number." He sat down beside me and
wrapped his arms around my waist and started nuzzling behind my ear, along
my neck and under my hair. "God, Marc, I love your scent, on your pillow,
on everything you wear, on you," he said, then giggled. "Yeah, I sure
do. This morning while you were in the shower, I was putting our clothes in
the laundry hamper and I picked up your T-shirt and stuffed it in my
backpack -- for luck. Then when I opened the backpack in AP English, I
could smell Marcus Alexander Porcher IV's scent and got so hard I thought I
was going to cum right there."

"That explains something," I laughed. "I was digging in my backpack at the
same time when I found what I was looking for and glanced over at you. Your
face looked like you were having a wonderful wet dream and you had a very
obvious erection. Just as you do now." I swatted at Justin's hard cock
which was poking out of his shorts leg, streaming precum. "Are you always
horny?" I laughed.

"When you're around or when I smell that wonderful Marcus scent or when I
think about you? Yeah, most all the time," he answered and then kissed me.

While we could have called the Coast Guard from the boat, we weren't doing
a lot of thinking with our heads at the moment. Know what I mean? Justin
did call when we got back to the marina. Told me on the way home the
officer said he had had other reports, and so far the Coast Guard had not
spotted the boat, but they were investigating.

Thursday and Friday when we got to school, the Mud Creek gang was out in
full force, but only pointed at us and laughed. We ignored them. Thursday,
we left school at 10:00 after a graduation practice which resembled herding
cats more than young men and women practicing their announcement that they
were ready for the real world. Made me wonder how long it would be before
diplomas were just mailed to those who graduated, not a bad idea in my
book.

When we got to the car, Justin suggested we call the sheriff's office and
see what was developing in the storage unit case. He also suggested I tell
the sheriff about the mysterious boat. "Know we called the Coast Guard, but
it came from the swamp, the Grandview side of the swamp."

"You drive, I'll call since I also want to check with Mr. Sanford about
working tomorrow. Adam told me they were backed up with deliveries and his
dad wanted it all done this weekend, even if someone had to work on
Sunday." Before I could get my phone out and dial, it rang. It was
Mr. Sanford. "Had my phone out to call you," I laughed.

"Hope it was to offer to work today and tomorrow. Just got a call from
Sheriff Anderson who said he saw no reason you and Justin shouldn't go back
to work and I sure need you both."

"I'll be there by 2:30 or so," I responded. "We're on our way home, so I'll
be there as soon as we change". I turned to Justin and asked if he would go
in and he said he would. "Justin will come in as well." Ordinarily I kept
work clothes in the car and changed at the warehouse, but since I hadn't
planned on working, I had to go home to change.

When we had changed and were heading out, I saw Clarisa gathering flowers
for the house. "Probably be late for supper," I said. "Mr. Sanford called
and asked us to come in. He's swamped with deliveries."

Justin pulled up to the warehouse, kissed me, and I hopped out of the
car. Adam greeted me at the door. "Guess the pot crop has been good this
year in Mud Creek," he said as we walked in and started surveying the
deliveries. "Looks as if there are a lot of new appliances and stuff going
out there."

"Noticed K.J. and Bull had new, souped-up, tricked-out trucks as well," I
responded.

"Did you notice Skinny and Ox did also?" Adam asked. I nodded. "Well, not
as expensive or as tricked-out, but definitely as souped-up, when they
didn't have a pot to piss in a few weeks ago."

"You think they grew enough weed to pay for all this -- and trucks? Can't
believe it."

"No, course not, but where did all that money come from so quickly? No,
there are a few pot patches around, but just for personal use and maybe
some to share. Not enough for the sheriff to worry about. But the trucks
and all these things," he waved his hands at the appliances and furniture
headed to Mud Creek, "we're talking major money."

"Regardless of where the money came from, this stuff is not going to
deliver itself," I said, and Adam and I started loading the truck. However,
our first deliveries would not be to Mud Creek as we had deliveries to
Planters' Landing, the home of the newly rich, mortgaged to the gills --
you know, all those Got Rocks -- and their neighbors. Took forever to get
the deliveries made. Even though we were supposed to just put furniture
where instructed and leave, we had firm orders to please Planters' Landing
customers since they only considered high-dollar merchandise. One love seat
we moved seven times before the lady of the house was satisfied -- and she
was the most reasonable one we encountered there.

On our way back to the warehouse, we got a call from Mr. Sanford
instructing us to load the washer, dryer, fridge and range for the Ashford
family in Mud Creek. "They wanted them delivered today. Told them you
likely couldn't get them all connected, but would do what you could, so do
try to at least get them delivered. The person who called was insistent,"
he said. It was nearly five when Mr. Sanford called and Adam and I were
both kinda surprised that he had asked us to load and deliver the Ashford
merchandise since it would take two-three hours minimum, but he was getting
so much business in Mud Creek, he didn't want anyone dissatisfied.

The running joke about Mud Creek was that everyone was kin or married to
kin. For the most part, they were definitely clannish: you piss off one,
you piss off all. To make matters worse, they were one branch of the larger
clan of which the Grandview folks were the other half. Anyway, we set to
loading the truck and half an hour later, headed for Mud Creek and the
Ashfords'. As we left the warehouse, the clouds which had threatened rain
all day kept their promise and it seemed as if the bottom fell out, making
it hard to see to drive -- more delay.

When we finally reached the Ashfords', we drove up to a cinder block house
built on a concrete slab and were greeted by a passel of grubby
kids. Inside we found the house was better than some, no doubt better that
many in the area, but not much. I was surprised that they had been able to
purchase nearly a thousand dollars worth of appliances, but they had.

We started unloading the appliances and setting them in place. Of course,
the wiring for the range and dryer was wrong and the plumbing for the
washer was inadequate, but workable. Mr. Ashford insisted we at least plug
everything in, but we refused to plug in the range and dryer. We finally
convinced him to do so would likely result in a fire or someone
electrocuted trying to cook. It was well after 8:00 when we were finally
able to crawl back in the truck and head home.

The rain had slowed to drizzle, but was now accompanied by fog, making
seeing and driving difficult.

Mud Creek Road parallels Mud Creek, running along the south side of that
waterway. Actually, it is hard to determine what is Mud Creek and what is
swamp since they run together. The only difference is that Mud Creek does
have a creek bed and is quite deep compared to the swamp which joins it on
the north side. We were both bushed when we had finished with the Ashfords
and Adam was driving along the creek on our way home. I was half asleep, my
head leaning back against the seat, when Adam exclaimed, "What the fuck?
What's that bastard up to?"

"That bastard" was driving a truck jacked up as high as he could get it,
covered with lights and all of them on, blinding Adam as they were
reflected into his face by our truck's mirrors. "That son of a bitch is
headed toward us and he's not driving slow." The driver did slow down
finally but, nevertheless, gave our bumper a nudge. The jacked-up truck was
left behind as Adam floor-boarded the furniture van, but only
temporarily. Suddenly he was headed toward us again, this time giving us
quite a bump before dropping back.

"What's his point?" I asked. "The asshole is trying to wreck us. I'm
calling the sheriff." I had put Sheriff Anderson's number on speed dial
after our earlier problems. As soon as the dispatcher picked up, I said, in
somewhat of a panic, "This is Marc Porcher. I'm on Mud Creek Road headed
toward town. Adam Sanford and I have just made a delivery to the Ashfords'
place and this jacked-up truck is running up behind us and bumping
us... Well, it's hard to say. He has at least a dozen lights and all of
them are on and shining in our mirrors... Adam, the dispatcher says slow
down and pull off to the side of the road. There's a patrol car just down
the road... OK, we're headed for the side of the road... Yeah, he's
barreling toward us... Right, I can hear the siren now..." I guess the
driver of the truck heard as well since he came flying by, gave us a blast
of his horn and headed down a side road which could hardly be called a
trail, his horn now blaring "Dixie". As he did, I tried to get his license
plate number, but it was covered with mud.

When the patrol car arrived, the deputy was clearly disgusted with the
now-gone driver of the truck and frustrated because we had been unable to
get the plate number. I was able to tell him the truck looked blue, but it
had been foggy and drizzling, so I couldn't be sure.

I was finally home and ready for a shower at 9:00, but was so near
exhaustion, I decided against it. Justin thought otherwise. I guess
sometimes he didn't like my scent! Anyway, he undressed me and hauled my
all-but-limp body into the shower. He practically had to hold me up, but I
managed to stand on my own feet long enough for him to wash and dry
me. That accomplished, he threw me over his shoulders and carried me to the
bed and tucked me in. I was asleep seconds after our goodnight kiss. Once
asleep, I was tormented by dreams of being forced off the road and into Mud
Creek. Several times during the night, Justin shook me awake and told me I
was crying out in my sleep.

I was well aware of how little rest I got when I crawled to the shower,
hoping it would wake me, but it did little and I went down to breakfast
unrefreshed. Two extra cups of coffee helped and I was awake enough be
dragged to school. Adam and Bobbie arrived about the same time as Justin
and I. "Your lover looks as bad as mine," Justin said as he kissed Bobbie
on the cheek.

"If I look like shit, I look much better than I feel," Adam said.

"Nightmares?" I asked.

"All night long," he replied.

"Figure out what that was all about?" I asked, hoping he had some idea why
we were almost run into Mud Creek and the swamp.

"I haven't the faintest," he replied. "Too tired."

"Same here," I agreed.

"You know you two have pissed off K.J. and his crew," Bobbie said. "I mean
you did nothing to them, but they were really upset about the prom, I
guess, and because of that they got kicked out of school for a while. You
weren't responsible for their behavior, of course, but you know you are
blamed. I heard that Ox didn't make up anything he missed while he was
suspended, so he won't be graduating until he takes summer school or comes
back next year. K.J. may be in the same situation. I can just hear either
or both saying, `Them faggots are keeping me from graduating.' And you do
know how that Mud Creek bunch stick together."

"You may have something there," Justin said. "What do you think?"

"Maybe," Adam said.

I thought about what we knew about the thefts and the planting of drugs in
the storage unit. It didn't make me feel any easier about the situation,
but I said nothing.

Feeling as I did, I wasn't very patient with the two teachers directing the
graduation rehearsal. They were like two middle schoolers, each wanting
things done their way. Of course, we seniors just wanted to be through the
mess and get out of there. Finally, at 10:30, someone said, "I'm out of
here!" and before the teachers knew what was going on, the exodus started
and they were left wondering where everyone had gone.

When we got to the parking lot, Adam called his dad and told him he and I
would be there mid-afternoon. I guess he knew we were worthless until we
got some rest. Justin took me home and headed for the store. I crawled to
our place and climbed in bed as soon as I could get undressed. I don't even
remember getting in bed nor was I aware of Justin coming up and checking on
me when he came home for lunch at 1:00.

Clarisa came up at 2:00 and asked if I was ready for lunch. I had felt
better, but I was a hundred percent improved over what I had been when I
came home.

While I was eating, the phone rang and Clarisa answered it and promptly
handed it to me. "Marc here," I said.

"Marc, Sheriff Anderson. Just talked to Justin and he said you were
home. Told me you had a rough night. Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A couple or three hours sleep does wonders."

"Justin said you would be going to work shortly. I asked him to come by and
would like for you to come as well. Have a couple things to talk over."

"Sure. I'll be leaving in a half hour or so. Justin's waiting for my call
to pick me up and take me to work."

"See you in a few, then," he said and we hung up. I wondered what was going
on now, but put that aside and called Justin. He was free at the moment and
was walking in the kitchen ten minutes later, as I was finishing a late
lunch.

"How you doin', babe?" he asked as he briefly touched my lips with his.

"To be honest, I have been better, but the rest helped muchly."

"As soon as Adam got home from school Mr. Sanford ordered him to bed as
well. He did say he hoped you two would be up to working when you got up,
but he'd not push."

"So long as we don't have another adventure like last night, I can do
it. Well, I hope we aren't delivering a pile of concrete elephants to
Planters' Landing."

"Given the way you have bulked up from hard work, I think you two might
even be able to wrestle a concrete elephant on and off the truck," Justin
said, laughing, "but I understand you don't just deliver merchandise to
Planters' Landing. You place an item there -- there and here and over there
and over here and everywhere!"

A concrete elephant had been a running part of our family myth since Justin
and I were five or six. Granddad Carter brought a rather large and -- for
us -- very heavy Christmas present with mother's name on it and placed it
under the tree. For some reason, both Justin and I became fixated by it and
bugged Granddad half out of his mind, asking what it was. He finally said,
"It's a concrete elephant." We were very pleased with ourselves for getting
Granddad to tell us what was in the package. Since we knew what was in the
package, we paid no attention when Mother -- Mom -- opened it. When all the
presents had been opened, we began to bug Mother asking what she had done
with her concrete elephant. She hadn't the foggiest idea what we were
talking about and became exasperated when we kept asking her about it. We
became more and more upset since she seemed to be telling a fib because
Granddad Carter has told us he was giving her a concrete elephant. I guess
we finally just gave up because Mother never told us what she had done with
her concrete elephant and she never knew what we were talking about. Years
later, long after Granddad Carter was gone, Mom, Justin and I finally
figured out the whole puzzle and the concrete elephant became a part of our
family myth.

Soon lunch finished, and Justin and I hugged Mom and Clarisa and headed for
the sheriff's office. As we walked out the back door, I said, "I need to
remember to tell the sheriff about all the recent wealth in Mud Creek
purchasing a whole lot of stuff."


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

*pronounced `day-ghee-lah'