Date: Sun, 19 Nov 2000 10:07:48 -0800
From: Desert Guys <jg.ps@gte.net>
Subject: Jim and Jimmy Chapter Twenty-Two

Jim and Jimmy
A novel by Greg Bowden
jg.ps@gte.net
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"But why invite trouble?"

Marta, Anton, Claudine and Little Anton arrived at Clear Harbor with great
fanfare the next afternoon. It had been almost two years since Jimmy and
David had seen any of them and they were surprised at how much -- and how
little -- they had changed. Claudine, now seventeen, had lost that rawboned
tomboy look and was growing into a prettier copy of her mother. She had her
mother's large dark eyes, her smooth skin and her glossy black hair. She
also had a lovely face and a good start on a knockout figure.

Little Anton was obviously well into his adolescence, having grown at least
a foot and a half and put on close to a hundred pounds. Like his father, he
would never be a tall man but at five-foot-ten he seemed perfectly
proportioned. Also, like his father, his body was destined to be naturally
strong and well muscled, the result of excellent genetics. Given a couple
of years the boy was going to turn into an extremely handsome man.

Marta, on the other hand, had changed not at all. Her voice could still be
heard two rooms away and within ten minutes of her arrival she was in the
kitchen, criticizing the dinner menu.

Anton, of course, remained Anton. He would look the same, act the same, and
think the same at sixty as he had at thirty. That was his nature.

Once the family was settled in the big guest house, Anton came up to the
main house and made himself comfortable on the front terrace with the
others. Marta had stayed behind to rest from the trip, although, as Anton
said, it was difficult to understand how she could become exhausted from
being waited on hand and foot on the airplane.

"What happened to the children?" Shareff asked, always anxious to see his
grandchildren.

Anton sighed. "They are at the age where adults bore them," he said. "And
so Claudine is in the garden with her book, one she probably shouldn't be
reading at her age, and Little -- uh, the boy -- is on the beach." He
nodded towards the dock where Kingston was letting him help wash down the
boat.

"I never know how to call him anymore," he said, accepting a beer from
Ishmael. "We've always called him 'Little Anton' and I find it hard,
somehow, to call him by my own name. I told her this would happen but of
course she had her way and called him after me. I wanted to call him Jac,
after my own father who was dead and so would not pose a problem."

"What does Marta call him?" David asked.

Anton shrugged. "'Little Anton'. And then he stamps his feet or sulks or
refuses to answer. She then gets angry and wants me to discipline him." He
shrugged again and drank of his beer. "Enough. What is doing with you?" He
looked at his father-in-law. "I read about your little problems in
England. What..."

They talked business for a while, Anton adding pithy comments and analyzing
political overtones. After an hour or so Claudine came in and settled
herself on a lounge, seeming to listen attentively. Jimmy watched her for a
few minutes and decided that she really was listening. She didn't look
bored at all.

At five-thirty Ishmael came in and announced the time. "Cocktails are at
six-thirty, sir," he said to Shareff, "you will just have time to change."

Shareff was momentarily taken aback. Such reminders had never been issued
before. "Ishmael, just who asked you to bring this news to me?"

"Mrs. Bouley, sir."

Shareff rolled his eyes heavenward. "In my own house..." he mumbled under
his breath. Then, louder, "Thank you, Ishmael. Please be sure there is
plenty of iced gin. I think we're going to need it." He nodded a dismissal
and turned to Anton. "Would you mind seeing if your wife is receiving
visitors just now? I think I'd like a word or two with her."

Due to the insulation called for in David's design, no one heard what
Shareff said to Marta but she was decidedly cool toward him during
cocktails and dinner and excused herself before the dessert saying she had
a terrible headache. Anton offered to see her back to their quarters but
she shook him off saying she was perfectly capable of finding her own
way. Nevertheless, Anton followed her, speaking words of supplication.

Anton and his sister exchanged glances and then pretended nothing had
happened. Ishmael served dessert -- custard Napoleons, made especially for
the children -- and then poured more wine for the adults.

"Well," Shareff said to Claudine and Anton, "it's nice you could both get
out of school to visit us. When will you be out for the Summer?"

"Not until the middle of June," Claudine said.

"They'll be at it all night now, you know," Anton said to Jimmy, nodding in
the direction of the guest house.

"Shut up Anton! Just shut up." Claudine got up from the table and went to
the balustrade, her back to them.

"Well, they will," Anton said, loud enough for her to hear.

Claudine whirled around and confronted him. "But you're not supposed
to... to talk about it. It isn't nice!"

David gave Anton a quizzical look. "Fucking," Anton said. "She yells and he
pleads and then they... fuck. Sometimes all night."

"Anton!" Claudine screamed. "You cannot say that and I won't listen to it."
She ran into the house.

Shareff pushed back his chair but Jim stopped him. "I'll talk to her," he
said and left the table.

"Anton," Jimmy said as his father went into the house, "you shouldn't say
things like that about your parents. Especially not at the dinner table and
with ladies present. Don't they teach you any manners at that school?"

"She's not a lady, she's my sister. And why can't I say it if it's true?"

"You cannot say it, Anton, because this is my table and I will not have
such things said." Shareff's voice was low and menacing. "What you have
said is neither shocking nor titillating, it is merely... common. Now, if
you will behave -- and speak -- as a gentleman, you are welcome at my
table. If you choose otherwise, you will eat by yourself, in your room."
Shareff rose from the table and walked into the house.

Anton, for all his adolescent cockiness, was shaken. He'd been slapped by
his mother and paddled by the headmaster at his school but never had anyone
spoken to him that way. He was suddenly unsure of himself, suddenly the
little boy he was trying so hard to outgrow."

"He's gone to the yellow drawing room," Jimmy said quietly. "I think you
should go and apologize to him and then hug him, to take the hurt away."

Without a word Anton left the table and walked to the house. At the door he
turned and looked at them, wanting reassurance. They nodded and David
smiled at him. The boy went inside.

Ishmael, who had been watching from the pantry, went out to clear the
table, pretending nothing had happened, just as Dalton had taught him. When
he took up the dessert plates Jimmy said, "Don't let Ozala see that it
wasn't eaten. She'd be very disappointed." Ishmael nodded and looked over
the plates, estimating how much he could salvage for himself. Custard
Napoleons were his favorite, too.

Jim and Claudine came back to the table. "Well, I see dessert is over but
perhaps a little champagne would still be in order," Jim said. He went into
the house and returned with a chilled bottle and six glasses. "I think you
are old enough to join us, don't you?" he said to Claudine, holding out a
glass. "May I?"

She nodded. "Thank you... Uncle James." Always before she'd called him
'Mr. Keith'. Jimmy wondered what he'd said to her, back in the house, that
he was now 'Uncle'. He never did find out, but Claudine was always warm,
even to him, after that.

When Shareff and Anton came out it was hand in hand and both of them had
warm smiles on their faces. As they neared the table Anton broke away and
went to stand at his sister's side. "I'm sorry for what I said and I
apologize for it," he said, his voice shifting registers once or twice as
happens with adolescent boys, especially when they are feeling strong
emotions.

He looked up and spoke to the rest of them. "Please try to overlook this
evening. It won't happen again." He sat and looked disappointed when he
realized the Napoleons had been cleared away. Jim offered him
champagne. Anton started to make an ugly face but caught himself and said,
"No thank you, Uncle James. I don't care for it." Jimmy was impressed. He'd
never find out what went on in the yellow drawing room between Shareff and
Anton either but whatever it was, it had pushed Anton a long way toward
adulthood.

Ishmael came to the table and served fresh Napoleons to the children which
earned him a look of undying love from Anton and a sweet smile from
Claudine.

The next morning David and Jimmy were awakened by Anton knocking on the
open French doors to the terrace. "Come on," he called, "let's go for a
swim." When he got no response he tried again. "Hey, you guys fucking in
there?"

"I thought we took care of that word last night," David mumbled
sleepily. Then, louder, "Yes. Go away."

"Can I watch?" Anton said, coming into the room. "I've never seen how guys
do it." He jumped on the bed and sat between them. "Aw, you're not doing
it. You're just sleeping. If you were girls and I was in there with you
I'll bet you wouldn't be sleeping."

"Well, we're not girls and since you don't like guys I suggest you get off
the bed and we'll go for a swim. Now come on, off!" Jimmy threw back the
cover and stood up.

"Man, that is a big one," Anton said, staring at Jimmy's crotch. "If I went
for guys, I sure would go for you."

Jimmy sighed and headed for the bathroom, leaving David to cope with
Anton. When he came back, vastly relieved, he found David sitting up in bed
lecturing Anton on the etiquette of entering and being in other people's
bedrooms.

"You want to take it from here?" David asked, getting out of bed. "I gotta
pee." Anton looked at David's crotch and raised one eyebrow but managed to
suppress any comment.

Jimmy took up the lecture, emphasizing that, whatever he felt free to do
and say in the presence of his uncles, he was not generally free to do and
say in the presence of others. "Like that crack about the size of my
penis. Say that to the wrong man and he's liable to think it's a come on,
which could get messy." He held up his hand. "I know, I know, you can take
care of yourself. But why invite trouble?"

A half hour later, after their swim, they sent Anton back to his room and
got ready for breakfast. In the shower, Jimmy said, "It seems our Little
Anton has inherited a few of his grandfather's genes, wouldn't you say?"

David laughed. "Specifically the big dick gene? Like the one that runs in
the Keith family? I don't know, maybe it's from his father. We ought to
check that out sometime, don't you think?"

"I've worked on seeing that for years but never made it," Jimmy
said. "Somehow I always manage to get there just after he gets his clothes
on. Now hurry up or we'll be late."

Jimmy couldn't help but notice that neither Anton nor Marta looked the
least bit rested. Anton's face was puffy and red and he had several marks
on his forearms that looked suspiciously like rug burn. Marta, of course,
had the advantage of makeup but she, too, had a slightly used look about
her. Everyone pretended not to see any of it.

The day, and the next two, passed pleasantly enough. Marta spent a good
deal of time on a lounge in the shade, reading magazines and working her
way through a thick biography of Lucretia Borgia. Her husband spent his
time in the sun, generally on the beach with his son, Jimmy, David or some
combination of them. Then it was time to leave the island and return to
reality.

It would be five years before they were all together again.

------------------
To be continued
All comments, criticisms, suggestions are gratefully received and answered.
It's those things which keep me writing.
Greg
jg.ps@gte.net