Date: Thu, 5 Oct 2000 03:27:49 EDT
From: SWarri1349@aol.com
Subject: No Greater Love Chapter 7 part B Gay/Historical

This Chapter is dedicated to a young boy I met several weeks ago and helped
him out as this is being readied to post. I learned he is now dead at the
age of 12.  Jamie I know your in a better place than this now. Where the
Bastards of the world can do you no harm. Fly free my lad with the Angels
and tell Saint Patrick Hello from me. Fly Free My Precious Friend Free with
the Angels. For you're free at last from the pain of this world free at
last from the evils of mankind. I saw power in your soul I saw friendship
in your eyes I only wish I could have been there for you my boy. When
daylight faded to darkness for the last time in your short life to hold you
in my arms to comfort you to do all that I could in my power to save you
from leaving here alone. This is my goodbye to you my friend. Until we meet
again. I will always have a special place in my heart for you and all my
other friends who have left this world for a better place.

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

Doctor Watson dived for the floor the second he saw the muzzle flash from
the Navy Colt. The ball whizzed past his head and struck two feet from
where Davie lay naked on the rough table. He was frozen in place and still
hurting from the rough finger that was shoved unmercifully up his ass. The
pistol Doctor Watson had grabbed moments before clattered to the hardwood
floor and slid out of his immediate reach. Liam cocked the pistol
again. "On your feet, you damned sodomite."

	Watson, dazed from the impact of the hard floor, was stunned as he
slowly stood to face Liam, his green eyes blazing emerald fire, his red
hair seemed to blaze beneath his wide brimmed hat.

        Two soldiers rushed into the room and stopped when they saw Liam
with the smoking pistol and the gaping hole in the table. "Arrest that man,
soldier, the charge is sodomy." The soldiers knew better than to disobey
Liam O'Conell.

        "Yes, sir." The two soldiers grabbed Watson under the arms and
pulled him out the door, cursing and screaming.

        "I will get you, you fucking Irish trash!"

        Liam walked over and backhanded Watson in the mouth; blood trickled
from his lips. "I also want him gagged and placed in solitary confinement
at Fort Dearborn until I contact the President. "If I ever needed a favor
from my third cousin, it is now." The two soldiers just looked on and
Watson dropped his head in defeat; he knew he would not see daylight for a
long time, if ever. He knew over in England that, if convicted of sodomy,
it was death by firing squad. The two soldiers dragged the doctor away.

        Liam then looked closely to where Davie still lay. He saw specks of
blood on Davie's pale butt cheeks. "Oh dear Saint Patrick, I hit Davie." He
holstered the pistol and moved swiftly to the table, then he noticed the
bullet had showered the boy with splinters when it impacted the table.  He
was surprised the boy was not crying or weeping, just lying there,
shivering from fright. "Davie, you OK, lad?"

        Davie slowly turned around and looked at the Quartermaster. "Yesss,
sir, I guess, but I hurt and my ass stings."

        Liam smiled at Davie. "Oh my lad, you just got a small taste of
war, but we usually don't fire at our own men."

        "Sir, what about John and Ernest? Are they OK?"

        Liam looked over to the corner where the two brothers were huddled
together, holding each other tight. "Ah, my boyos, it is clear now. Come
here to me. The two brothers crawled out of the corner and slowly
approached Liam. They did know whether to trust him or not, and being buck
ass naked did not help the situation. "Lads, get dressed, John and Ernest,
help Davie and be gentle. I don't see no damage in his behind but I want to
take you three home with me and quarter you there for tonight and then we
will see if you still want to be in the Navy."

        The two younger boys eased toward where Davie was slowly easing off
the rough table. They just looked for a moment at Davie, scared that he
would lash out at them for holding his legs. "Umm, Davie, we're sorry we
had to hold your legs like we did. Please don't be mad at us."

        Davie looked over at John, the brother who had spoken to him, and
he saw the worry and the tears in the younger boy's eyes.

        "Oh, John, I could never be mad at you two. You did nothing wrong,
just followed that sadist doctor's orders."

        "Whew." John wiped the sweat forming on his head and smiled at
Ernest.

        "Come here, you two!" The two brothers walked over to Davie. Davie
wrapped his powerful arms around the two naked shivering boys and hugged
them tightly. "We better get dressed before someone else decides to open
fire. If I am being shot at, I would at least like to have some clothes
on."  Davie chuckled when he saw the stern expression on Liam's face melt
into a grin.

        "Nobody hurts my boyos, if I can help It. Now get those cute buns
in your underwear, while I find my boyos the proper Navy Blues to wear."
The quartermaster headed to the rear room while the three boys dressed in
their underclothing.

	"Davie, would you please step back here, my boy; let's see if this
Navy blue jacket will fit ya."

        Davie walked back to the separated supply room. Uniforms were
stacked on shelves surrounding the walls of the small room. Four oil lamps
hung in the center of the wood ceiling, casting shadows throughout the
room.

        "Ah, here you go, my boy, try them on and let me see how handsome
you look."

        Davie took the uniform from Liam and sat down and slipped on the
dark royal blue trousers and then stood up and reached down and slipped the
brass button through the buttonhole. Then he took the jacket and slipped it
on over his shoulders and buttoned the single row of brass eagle buttons
from chin to bottom one. Then he took the blue sailor's cap and placed it
over his dull red hair. Davie knew it needed washing but in the wintertime
and in a leaky, creaky shack he lived in, washing anything but the
necessary areas was not a good idea.

        "Very handsome indeed, my boyo. Here, put on these good shoes. They
should fit fine."

        Davie took the shoes and looked down at his dirty socks. He slipped
the shoes on and laced them up and stood not too bad. "They fit fine, sir,
kinda loose but OK."

        "Very fine, my lad. Go outside and see what your new friends think
of you now, all dressed up." Liam smiled, he did make a handsome sailor.

        Davie walked into the other room and Liam could hear the whistles
of approval from the two brothers.

        "OK, boyos, it's your turns, come on back here so I can see what I
can find for my two drummer boys."

        John and Ernest raced to where Liam was standing in the supply
room, Davie on their heels like an older brother. Liam watched the three
boys and he thought, 'Yes, yes, Davie would be a fine older brother for
these two. They would be safe with Davie watching over them.'

        Liam handed both brothers a stack of blue uniforms. 'Here, try
these on while I dig Davie out two more sets for him. Liam walked over the
shelf and pulled two more sets of trousers and jackets and three pair of
socks and long woolen underwear that was dyed a dark blue for Davie and
grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed them inside and passed it to Davie.

        Davie smiled, "Thank you, sir!" Davie looked over to Ernest and
John and they were just buttoning up their jackets. "Looked like what you
picked out for those two was just right and, boy, do they look cute."

        Liam looked over, "You're right, Davie, those two are cute in their
Union blues just like you, my boy." Liam grabbed four more uniforms and six
pair of socks and two more duffel bags and stuffed both of them and handed
two smaller pairs of shoes to John and Ernest. "Here ya go, boyos, try
these shoes on."

        The two brothers put the shoes on and laced them up. They smiled,
"Thank you for the nice shoes, sir!" They smartly saluted the Quartermaster
like they had seen others doing it.

        Liam smiled and returned the salute and Davie, not to be outdone,
saluted also. "Ah, my boyos, I am so proud of you three." Liam walked over
and hugged all three. He smiled, "That was from me, you will make me
proud." "The proud three!"

        They all walked out of the back room and the boys picked up their
dirty street clothes. "What should we do with these, sir?" asked Davie.

"Burn them if you want. You will not need them on the ironclads. Any
soldier caught out of uniform in enemy territory is considered a spy and is
usually shot on the spot."

         The three boys took their street clothes over to the wood stove
and opened the door and threw them into the flames. Then they stepped back;
they just took their first step of their new adventure.

        Liam slapped the boys on their backs. "Come on, my boyos, let's
head home for a hot supper and some hot baths."


        Liam led them into the large room and up to a large desk. "Sergeant
Walker, have my carriage waiting outside at the door. I am leaving early
today."

        "Yes sir, Quartermaster O'Conell!"

        "Private Adams, prepare Quartermaster O'Conell's carriage for his
early departure."

        "Yes sir, Sergeant Walker." The private saluted and headed out to
perform his duties.

        The three boys walked around the large crowded room. The men
enlisting stared at the boys, some with admiring eyes, others with scorn at
their young ages. Soon the private returned inside and saluted, "Your
carriage is ready, sir!"

        "Thank you, private. Lads, follow me."

        The three boys stepped in line behind Liam and followed him out the
door of the rear section of the building onto the street and walked to the
waiting carriage. The servant stood, dressed in a heavy black jacket and
dark brown trousers, holding the door open. Liam stepped inside, followed
by John and Ernest, finally Davie. Once the passengers were inside and
seated, the servant closed the door. Liam and Ernest sat in one seat while
John and Davie sat facing them on the other.

        The big carriage pulled away from the recruitment office and turned
north on the brick lined street. The two big bays eased down the street in
a fast trot while Liam and the three boys passed the time in quiet talk.

        The driver dodged all the heavy traffic, from grain wagons to foot
traffic, with ease. The center section of Chicago had nice paved streets of
brick while the outlying areas were still unpaved. During the summer they
were dust and in winter rivers of mud. The wooden wheels made loud clacking
sounds as the carriage passed over the brick paving stones as it traveled
north to Michigan Avenue and the O'Conell estate. In later years Michigan
Avenue would become host to the fine homes of the Crowns, Vanderbilts,
Pullman, and others. Now it was just beginning to grow, like the rest of
the once frontier town.

        Davie, John, and Ernest all stared out the carriage windows,
looking at the landmarks they all knew by heart, but this was the first
time any of them had seen them while riding down the street and not
walking. Davie and John huddled close together in the chilly carriage. At
least the windows kept out the cold north wind that was beginning to howl
outside. The carriage turned and entered Michigan Avenue and began to
slow. "Not far now, my lads," said Liam.

        John and Ernest were amazed at the fine houses being built or the
nice ones already occupied by some of the finer families of the booming
city.

        The servant led the carriage through a set of wrought iron gates
set into granite gate posts, with lit lanterns perched on top. All three
boys gasped at this sight. Liam noticed and smiled, 'Just wait until they
see the house of this Irisher.'

        Yes, he was one of the lucky ones growing up, and still was in many
ways. His father Patrick and mother both were well off in Ireland and
brought most of their wealth to the States when they left as new trouble
was beginning to brew on the old sod. They settled first in Boston, then
moved west to Chicago, where he was raised for the last years of his youth
and it was here that his father struck his new fortune by investing in
lumber and grain and the newly formed Central Railroad project. He shared
the family house with both his wife and daughter and his parents; the house
was large enough for both families now, and right now it was empty. His
parents were on a trip back to Ireland and had invited his wife and
daughter to join them. So here he was, taking three boys home and there was
no one to bother them.

        The carriage swung around the arch in the drive, past the formal
gardens and fountain leading up to the main house, sitting on a slight hill
in the center of the 5 blocks owned by the O'Conells. The servant eased the
big bays to a halt in front of the three story granite and brick
house. Liam heard the gasps from the three boys as they first set eyes upon
the largest house they had ever seen.

        The servant climbed down and opened the carriage door closest to
the front door of the mansion. "Thank you, Joe."

        "My pleasure, Mr. O'Conell," replied the small man with graying
hair and short mustache. Joe stood 5 foot 5 and walked with a limp; he lost
the lower part of his left leg in an Indian engagement during the Black
Hawk Wars during the time Chicago was known as Fort Dearborn. Joe loved
Patrick and Liam; they treated him with the same respect as a good friend
and not their carriage driver or hired white servant like many of the finer
families treated their man servants.

        "Follow me, lads." Liam gestured toward the front landing of the
house with his right hand as he spoke.

        The three lads, with their eyeballs trying to pop out of their
sockets, fell in step behind Liam and walked up to the massive house and
entered. The three boys did not know what to do when the light from the
massive cut crystal chandeliers shone down on their dirty faces in their
clean blue uniforms. They looked around the entrance hall, dazed with the
finery that surrounded them.

        "Well, come on, my lads, no need to stand in the hallway all
afternoon." Liam laughed when the boys jumped, knocked out of their
daydreams by his words. The three boys followed Liam into the main living
area of the house. It was huge compared to the shanties they lived in. The
whole two-room shanty of Davie's parents could have fit in half of the
living area. There were smaller rooms behind closed doors leading off from
the main room and they could see the massive dining hall through the open
French doors. "Well, lads, have a seat." The three boys sat down on the
large horsehair sofa and Liam eased himself into an overstuffed chair and
pulled a Cuban cigar from inside his uniform jacket. The oak wood crackled
in the large hearth as the flames heated the room.

        Davie felt a light trickle of sweat beginning to form on his
forehead and used a sleeve to wipe his face. Liam noticed it; he seemed to
notice the uneasiness of the three lads sitting closely together on the
large sofa.  Liam stood and walked over the crackling fire and stirred it
with an iron poker, then removed a long slender stick from a holder and
stuck the tip to the flames until it lit. He brought the flame up to the
tip of his cigar and lit it. The end glowed a bright red as the tobacco
lit. He turned and faced the boys once more as he unbuttoned his heavy blue
overcoat. Liam pulled the overcoat off, revealing the royal blue woolen
undershirt.

        "Laddies, pull off those uniform top coats. The house is plenty
warm. I had a private ride over this afternoon and inform the servants to
light the upper fireplaces and have the cook to prepare us a hearty meal of
beefsteak and potatoes for supper. I also took the liberty to dispatch a
letter to your parents, Davie, so they would not worry about you when you
do not return home after the city is cloaked in darkness. I do believe
there is a storm brewing out tonight, the way the wind is howling like a
dying Brit."

        The three boys laughed at the comment about the Brit. They were all
Irish and knew the old joke from listening to their parents. They began to
unbutton the heavy brass buttons on their jackets when Davie realized they
were not wearing any undershirts beneath like Liam was.

        "Umm, sir, we do not have anything on beneath our top jackets. We
dressed so fast we did not take the time to get them from our bags. I guess
we really were in a hurry to get out of that damned room after what that
mad doctor tried to do to me, sir." Davie blushed, then added, "I am sorry,
sir, for cursing in your home. Forgive me, sir."

        Liam was both proud and impressed with Davie's manners. "Davie, my
boy, it is fine and, please, it is Liam around friends and messmates. I may
be older and have a high rank but among friends we are equals. Also, my
boyos, I do not mind the chance to look at such fine lads shirtless. Yes,
my lads, I am married with a fine wife and sweet lass who are now traveling
around the old sod with my parents. As a young lad myself I dreamed of the
other lads at school and while riding with my father."

        Davie blushed, "Thank you, sir. Umm, Liam." And he smiled.

        "Well, come on, lads, let's go eat our supper before it gets
cold. Then I will lead the three of you upstairs to your sleeping quarters
so you boys can wash up and retire. After the meal you all will need the
rest. After a restful sleep in a real feather bed and a hearty breakfast, I
will put you three on a southbound Illinois Central train for Cairo and
your boat, the USS BENTON."

        Davie, John, and Ernest followed Liam into the dining room. Liam
draped his jacket over a chair and the three boys left theirs on but did
not bother to rebutton them. They knew they had a friend in Liam. Davie
also knew deep down Liam loved lads as much as he loved his wife and lass
Katie. Yes, she was a beautiful young lady who would make the right man a
wonderful wife someday.  One more personal battle. Who was he? Who did he
love more, lasses or lads? Would he survive the war whole enough to find
out who he would love in the end?

        As they entered the dining room, the smells of the food assaulted
them. Hot beef and potatoes steaming in a broth of carrots, peas, and
corn. The fresh baked loaf of white bread with a golden brown crust on top,
fresh butter dripping down the sides onto the heavy plate which it sat
upon. China plates were placed at one end of the long table that could seat
twelve people easy. Tall stemmed glasses, two at each plate setting, filled
with both water and a dark brown liquid, once Davie took his seat to the
right of Liam, who sat at the head of the table. John sat on Davie's right
and Ernest to Liam's left.

        Davie knew the smell of the dark brown liquid once he was close to
the glass of aged brandy.

        "Lads, please let us bow our heads in prayer to our Master for this
food and a quick end to this dreadful war and to the safe keeping of my
sister in New Orleans and her family."

        Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes as Liam recited a
traditional Irish prayer they all knew by heart and at the end they all
joined in. "Amen."

        Ernest and John looked over toward Davie as Liam dished the
steaming stew into the heavy bowls, filling each one to the rim.

        "Davie, please pass the bread."

        Davie first passed the plate to John and he removed two slices of
the soft bread. Then Davie removed two as he passed it to Liam and
Ernest. The plate was then returned to its place on the table.

        "Boys, dig in." Liam picked up his silver spoon and dipped it into
the stew, scooping a portion on it and bringing it to his lips and placed
it into his mouth. Liam nodded with satisfaction, then they all began to
eat.  Liam once again impressed with the manners of the three boys to
remember the old ways of the homeland which they came from of letting the
master of the table take the first bite of food before joining in. Liam
felt mixed emotions inside, the pride of meeting these fine lads and the
loathing of sending them off to war and the possibility of them never
returning.

        The three boys dug into the hot stew and soft bread. Liam watched
the boys in quiet satisfaction as the food was not chewed but inhaled. Very
little was said as the four males ate their meal, Liam watching with
satisfaction of feeding these growing boys a hearty meal before the long
two day ride by train to Cairo.

        The boys stood and stretched and asked Liam to thank the cook for
the wonderful meal. Out of the large supper only bread crumbs and a very
light broth was left of it. Liam had drunk his usual four glasses of
brandy.  Davie downed two himself and felt the liquor hit him as he stood.

        John and Ernest both drank one glass out of respect, then stuck
with chilled ice water for the rest of the meal. Davie walked out of the
dining room with John and Ernest on his heels like two young puppies. He
walked back into the living room and looked at the brilliant oil paintings
of the family. A large one hung over the fireplace mantle; it showed
Patrick and his wife and a young boy of about thirteen years old with
bright red hair. In the background a large Irish manor house stood on a
green grassy hill, surrounded by fields.

        Liam quietly walked into the room. "That is my mother and father
and me back in Ireland. Father wanted it done to remind him of his homeland
while he made his new life in his new land. I was twelve years old when
that was painted on that spring day so long ago. That was two years before
my sister was born, the one who now lives in New Orleans. I know what you
boys are wondering, why is my sister in the deep South when there is a war
going on? Well, the answer is simple, she fell in love with a German lad
named Otto Davis. They were married in '55. Otto works for the New Orleans,
Jackson, and Great Northern Railroad. In 1860 they had a son and named him
Samuel. I have not heard anything from them since the outbreak of the war.
All I can do is pray for their safety. Otto does not believe in slavery nor
does my sister Mary. They fell in love with the city and the South and so
they stayed. I do not hold anything against them for living in the South
during this time. Otto said he would never take up arms against the
Union. I met him at their wedding and he is a noble person and true to his
word. Here Liam led three boys over to a small corner table where a gas
lamp burned brightly. He picked up a tinplate photograph showing a smiling
young couple. Davie could tell the young man had blonde hair that was long
and straight and the bride in her white dress had red hair; the
photographer had hand tinted the photo to give it subtle color. He could
also make out in the background St. Mary, the name of the church.

        "Come on, lads, enough of my ramblings of my past. Time for me to
lead you upstairs so you can wash up and get a restful sleep after today's
events." The three nodded in agreement as they walked over to where they
had placed their bags and retrieved them. Liam led them to the wide
carpeted stairs and they began to climb, looking at paintings from the
past. Heroic naval battles to one of Napoleon astride his war horse. There
was even one of George Washington and Lafayette saluting each other after
the surrender of Yorktown. They climbed to the second floor landing and
walked down a long hallway, gas lamps hissed as they burned, lighting the
hall. They passed closed double doors of the master bedroom and down to a
room where the heavy door was open. Liam led them in. A large full four
post bed was in the center and small tables flanked both sides. On the far
wall, shelves of books lined it from top to bottom and gas lamps hung on
the wall by the door. An oil lamp stood on a center table.  A rich maroon
carpet covered the floor.

        "Well, lads, here is your room for the night. I am sure you do not
mind sleeping with each other for company."

        Davie answered for all of them. "No sir, we don't mind at all. It
will be nice to sleep in a real bed for once and not just a pallet on the
cold floor."

"Very good, my lads, the water closet is at the end of the hall. Come on, I
will show you how to draw the tub full of water."

        The boys followed Liam a short distance down the hall and to a room
on the corner. "Well, here we are," and he opened the door. It was dark in
the room until Liam turned a small brass wheel on the gas lamp located near
the door. The lamp sputtered and the smell of gas became stronger as the
gas began to burn brighter and light the room. The room was about the size
of a normal bedroom, tiles lined the floor, alternating between black and
white.  The large zinc tub sat in the middle with a wooden platform built
around it and steps leading to the rim. A small hand pump was located at
one end of it. The boys had seen pumps like this all their life but this
was the first time they had seen one inside a house. A Franklin stove sat
in the corner, the flames bright against the thick glass in the doors. A
small wooden box held a supply of pine knots and coal near the stove, a
brass bar ran along the wall, and towels were hung there to stay warm.  The
boys could not believe they were seeing this with their own eyes; they were
awestruck.

        Liam clapped Ernest on the back. "Well, let me show you how it
works. It is very simple and another one of my father's ideas. Most people
think we are crazy for wanting to take a bath every day, but father
believes cleanness is holiness."

        "The hand pump brings cold water from the well located out back of
the main house. The hot water comes from the Franklin stove in the corner.
You see the small brass wheel on the side of the stove that opens the water
reservoir? Each side has a wheel and each holds 30 gallons of hot
water. This stove is very common. Most people cook on them but father had
this one changed to just heat water. The metal bucket is behind the stove;
it holds 2 gallons but I would not fill it all the way full or you might
burn yourself and I do not want that to happen or I might have to call
Doctor Watson to come patch you up!"

        The three boys gasped at the mention of the doctor's name and spun
to look at Liam, who had a big grin on his face. "I was joking, lads, about
the doctor but not about being burned, so be careful. My bedroom is right
across the hall so if you need me don't hesitate to call for me. When you
finish drying off, hang the towels back up and the maid will get them to
wash in the morning. "You may sleep however you wish as I will be the one
knocking on your door in the morning. I am going to retire to my chamber to
do some reading. I greatly enjoy Hawthorn's works."

        The three boys thanked Liam and wished him a pleasant night.

        "So, Davie, we going to bathe separate or together to save water?"
asked John. "Well, I figured we could bathe together, no need in using all
the hot water since I have no idea how you fill that damned thing up. All I
ever fooled with was a pot belly wood stove."

        The two brothers nodded in agreement. "Same here, Davie, we only
seen the cooking stoves and they ain't that big."

        Davie walked over and picked up the metal bucket from behind the
stove. "John, work the lever on the pump and see if we need to prime it."

        "OK, Davie", John walked up the steps and grabbed the handle and
began to work it up and down. It made a sluicing sound, then a stream of
ice cold water began to pour in the tub. "Shit, that is cold," then blushed
crimson. Davie had not heard him or his brother use much foul language
since they met that afternoon.

        Davie laughed at John. "It is ok, my little friend, we all use
those words at times and you're kinda cute when you blush so red like
that."

        Ernest fell in the floor laughing when he saw John turn even a
brighter crimson.  John splashed a little water on Ernest and watched his
face turn from laughing to shock.  "Damn, brother, you're right, that water
is cold. Good thing this room is nice and warm."

        "Davie, hurry up with that hot water, will ya." shouted John.

        "Keep your britches on, will ya! I am trying to find something to
open this tap without burning my hand."

        "Take your coat off and use it to turn the tap on. It's not like
you have nothing to hide, we seen it all." John giggled.

        "Fine, I will then." Davie pulled his jacket off and used it to
turn the hot brass wheel and loosen it. The hot water began to run out in a
small stream, steam rising from the stream as it ran into the bucket." When
the bucket was half full he carried it over to the tub, using the wooden
handle attached to the metal bail. He poured the hot water into the cold
water and returned to the stove. This time he reached down with his bare
hand and turned the brass wheel, not too hot for just the few seconds his
fingertips made contact.  Davie carried this bucket full and poured it
in. "John, stop the cold water about half full, ok."

        "OK, Davie, will do. Ernest, why don't you remove your shoes and
then pull off mine. No need to wear them and mine is getting wet."

        "OK, John," Ernest bent down and pulled off his shoes and socks,
then walked over to where his brother was sitting and removed his. John
also handed Ernest his jacket. "Here, do the same with all three jackets,
put them over there for now," pointing to a small wood table in the corner,
"that way they don't get wet."

        Davie soon had enough hot water in the tub to balance it with the
cold. A haze of steam drifted from the water as John and Ernest began to
strip out of their jackets and trousers. Davie watched the two brothers as
they stripped, feeling his member grow hard in his trousers. 'Those two
boys, I will love running my fingers over every inch of their bodies,'
Davie thought as he unbuttoned his trousers and kicked off his shoes and
socks.  Then he pulled off his blue trousers and his manhood sprang free.

        John was watching out of the corner of his eye. "Wow, Ernest, look
at the size of Davie's snake." Davie turned crimson as he listened to
John's words. Then he realized it was a compliment. Davie then smiled and
looked over at the two staring brothers. "You two get in the damned tub and
quit staring at something you both have." Davie laughed as both boys
scrambled to get into the zinc tub. Davie followed right on their
heels. John, Ernest, and Davie all got into the big tub but they had little
room to spare. Each boy sat between the others' spread legs. Davie picked
up a sponge and began to wash John's back with the hot water. He jumped a
little at the first touch of Davie's hands on his back. Then John really
began to enjoy the feelings of another boy's hands on his naked body. John
felt his boyhood begin to stiffen with each touch of Davie's hands. Davie
scrubbed John's back, feeling the smooth, hot boy flesh beneath his
fingers. Soon John was beginning to breathe harder as Davie
continued. Ernest looked back and saw what was going on and for a minute
felt left out. John saw the hurt expression in his brother's eyes and knew
what was going through his head.

        "Turn around, Ernest." John picked up a sponge and began to wash
and scrub his brother's smooth back in slow movements. Davie smiled, 'how
thoughtful of John.' The three boys continued to wash each other's backs
and Davie poured some water over John's head to wet his dark brown hair,
then he picked up the soap and began to scrub some into the thick
hair. John moaned as he felt the magic fingers go to work on his scalp and
hair, washing away the dirt and grime to make it shine again. John copied
Davie and began to wash his brother's hair and it was lighter brown
hair. Ernest was enjoying the same treatment of his younger brother. Then
they both realized that no one was giving Davie the same treatment. Ernest
whispered this into John's ear, hoping Davie would not overhear his
plan. John nodded in agreement, leaving Davie with a puzzled look on his
face. Davie washed the soap from John's wet hair and soon John finished
doing Ernest's hair.

        John felt Davie's hard cock pressing against his behind. At first
he did not know what to make of it. Then he realized it felt pretty good,
it was soft and smooth and, when he moved, it slid along his upper
buttocks. Ernest and John both had scrubbed their genital areas clean and
their chests and stomachs while Davie washed John's back. John washed his
front side with his free hand as he worked on his older brother with his
other hand. Ernest stood up and stepped out of the big tub and John
followed. Davie expected to see them walk over to the towel rack and begin
to dry off. The two brothers instead leaned back over the tub and John took
the sponge Davie held in his hand and began to soap it back up. Ernest
motioned for Davie to slide further down into the water and relax. Davie
did after a funny expression and a little coaxing from John. Davie slid
deeper into the tub and felt his tired muscles relax; he stopped when the
hot water was lapping at his chin.  The brothers began to work their magic
on Davie, one set of hands soaping up his lower legs and feet while the
other set soaped up his stomach and chest. Never did he realize a bath
could feel so damned good. Davie lay there with his eyes closed and so
relaxed he doubted he could stand up if he needed to at that moment.

        John smiled at his brother and nodded toward Davie's groin where
his cock was rock hard and sticking up like a flagpole of a sunken ship.
Ernest winked and nodded back at John and pointed down to John's groin
where his own boyhood pointed out from his stomach. John grinned at his
brother because Ernest was sporting one also.

        Conflicting emotions should have been running through these
brothers' minds. Their parents taught them that even playing with them was
a damnable sin but John and Ernest's parents were dead. They had been dead
for three long years, killed in a train derailment on one of the pioneer
railroads that entered Chicago from the west, the Northern Cross Line. The
brothers were now wards of the state and they learned more than they needed
to know to survive on the streets and what the other older boys did after
the lamps were put out for the night.

        So now all those religious teachings by a set of parents who never
really loved their sons did not even come to light as they scrubbed the
dirt and grime away off their new friend. They knew Davie trusted them as
he lay there so relaxed, his manhood standing tall out of the water and,
more importantly, they trusted him. They never really made friends at the
orphanage because they knew trust was just words and never actions.

        This afternoon they learned about trust and friendship from this
red haired lad and a man named Liam O'Conell. John and Ernest also were
learning that love came in many forms and here lay one before them in the
tub as their youthful hands roamed the smooth flesh and tight muscles that
were now like jelly, relaxed and unburdened for the first time in who knew
how long. These boys were repaying Davie for something that they only
dreamed of for the last three years, a true friend. Now they were going to
set out for adventure tomorrow as a band of brothers. A bond of blood
between two, a stronger bond of friendship between the three of them. Both
brothers had the same thought at the same time, 'How many others had found
such a friendship like this one?'

        The brothers continued to scrub and wash Davie. John was now
washing Davie's red hair. John did not realize how red it was until the
dirt began to soften and wash out. Now it was beginning to shine like
Liam's, a beautiful bright red. Ernest had just reached Davie's groin and
did not know if he should continue or not. Ernest had never touched a penis
before except his own. He wanted to but was scared, what if Davie did not
like it?  Ernest paused for a moment and looked up at John and Davie. Davie
still lay with his eyes closed, enjoying the treatment he was receiving
from the brothers. Ernest held the sponge and pointed to Davie's erect
penis. John nodded for his brother to continue. Ernest moved up a little
closer to Davie's middle on the outside of the big tub, then leaned over
and began to lightly rub Davie's upper legs and thighs and sides with the
sponge but letting the tips of his fingers feel Davie's flesh. Ernest did
not realize one could keep a hard on for such a long time but his member
was still rock hard from just rubbing his hands on Davie as he
cleaned. Ernest took the plunge and brushed the tip of the wet sponge
across the top of Davie's pubic area, running it through the red
hair. Davie bucked up a little, then settled back down. Ernest continued,
then lower until he reached the base of Davie's cock and he washed it, then
he ran the sponge up it. Davie let out a loud moan but did not say a thing
against Ernest's actions. Ernest took this as a sign to continue.  John had
finished washing Davie's hair and now was watching his older brother wash
the hard penis of Davie. Then he too got a idea; he moved to Davie's side
and started to rub Davie's chest with his bare hands. Davie opened his eyes
and John stopped and tried to step back from the tub but Davie's strong
hands stopped him and he took John's hands and placed them back on his
chest for him to continue.

        "You two really know how to make a lad feel good."

        John blushed and Ernest wanted to pull back and stop from
embarassment. Once again Davie took control and grabbed Ernest's hand and
removed the sponge and placed it back on his hard member.

        "Wow, you don't mind us feeling your body, Davie?" asked Ernest.

        "Not when it feels this good. I see both of you are enjoying this
as much as I am."

        Both brothers blushed.

        "Damn, you two are so cute when you do that." Davie smiled at them.
"John, why don't you step around to the other side of the tub." John looked
funny for a moment, then he stepped down from the small wood platform and
walked around to the other side. Davie took John's hands and pulled him
closer and then placed them back on his chest. John then realized where his
penis was, almost touching Davie's body and he got ready to move it away
until Davie reached and grabbed it in his hand and slowly began to pump it.
John moaned deep as Davie took his penis in his hand and began to stroke
it.  Ernest continued to stroke Davie's cock and Davie knew he would not
last much longer before he shot his white cream out of the tip.

        "Ernest, you might want to stop now."

        "Why, Davie, am I hurting it?"

        "No, you're not hurting it, just the opposite, it feels grand but
if you continue doing what you're doing I am going to shoot white stuff out
the end and all over you."

        "Ahh, you're going to pop your willy, huh?"

        "Is that what you call it?"

        "Well, that is what all the older boys called it."

        Ernest smiled then, "I want to help you pop your willy," and smiled
broader.

        John slowly pulled back from Davie and moved closer to Davie's hard
penis. He then reached out and placed one of his hands around his brother's
and they both worked the skin up and down the shaft. Davie began to moan
louder and soon he arched his back up and screamed, "Oh my Lord," and
erupted all over the two brothers' hands. The two brothers smiled at each
other and Davie, then quickly began to wash the white cream off of Davie
and their hands.

        "OK, you two go over there and start drying off in case Liam
heard. I do not want him to think we were doing what we were doing in his
tub room."

        The two brothers raced over and grabbed the warm towels and began
to rub them over their mostly dry bodies and through their clean
hair. Davie climbed out of the tub and joined them and dried himself but
let the brothers dry his back and hair for him. They re-hung the towels on
the rack and gathered their uniforms and shoes and Davie turned the little
brass wheel on the lamp like Liam did to turn down the jet of gas going to
the lamp. They walked down to their room. As they passed Liam's closed door
they all noticed the light shining below the door and they wished him a
good night.

        Liam told the boys good night and he laid the book on the table
beside his bed and turned down the jet to his lamp. He wasn't reading but
he heard the scream and he knew what brought it on and he smiled as he
remembered the first time another lad had done the same for him.

        Davie, Ernest, and John entered their room and placed their
uniforms on the table and they climbed into the big bed naked, clean, and
refreshed.  The two brothers insisted on Davie sleeping in the middle and
he agreed to.  He did not know why they wanted him in the middle until the
two brothers joined him on both sides and snuggled close to him.

        "Good night, little brother," said Ernest.

        "Good night, big brother," said John.

        Then together, "Good night, Big Brother," and they kissed Davie on
the cheeks.

        "Good night, my little ones." And Davie wrapped his arms around his
new brothers and they drifted off into sleep and their dreams of what lay
ahead.

        In the other bedroom Liam also was sleeping, dreaming of the past
and of the lad he shared his grandest summer of his youth with before
coming to America. There was peace this night as they dreamed while the war
continued on.

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

I am sorry it took so long with this chapter, my readers. I hope you enjoy
the newest adventures of our friends. I have been having some adventures of
my own, including a trip out of state with a great friend and some other
adventures on the Railroad where I work.

I would like to thank Ed for his help with this chapter.

I would also like to thank Willy B. and Chris for their support and to all
my readers who have stuck with me.

Please E-Mail me your comments. I love hearing from you, it gives me the
will to continue to spin these tales. Swarri1349@aol.com

May the circle of friendship never be broken between me and my special
brother. Saint Patrick, look down and protect my Brother Brent, for without
him I would not be whole.

Stephen