Date: Thu, 5 May 2011 22:59:06 +0100 (BST)
From: Jonas Henley <jonas_henley@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: the-dawson-exclusion-part-1-(1968)

The Mackey Tails
By Jonas Henley

The Dawson Exclusion


1968
Indian Spring Community
On the edge of a large city in Ohio


Part I


11 year old Sean Dawson about worshipped the ground that 14 year old Hal
Tucker walked on. He would constantly follow along behind Hal, Michael
Cormack, and Seamus Lanham as the three buddies made their way through and
about the whole of Indian Spring, and even the beginning neighborhoods on
either side of them. The three older boys were usually unchallenged in
their entry to the Mackey lands, Hal and Michael by nature of their
parentage and Seamus by nature of everyone being a bit leery of him. Sean,
as well, had little trouble going in with them; but even without them he
would be largely accepted, owing to a great-grandfather being a Mackey,
despite the boy officially not being considered a Mackey.

There were times, though, when only Hal and his 2 ½ year younger shadow
were the only two tolerated in the Mackey lands, which was fine by Sean, as
it was really Hal out of the three older boys that he most wanted to be
like, or to like him. It could have been considered a bit of an innocent
crush, though it was more akin to hero worship.

But there was a very slight sexual element to it, as well. From the time he
turned 11, the boy was experimenting with other boys his age and a few
Hal's age, though when Hal caught him, Sean got the severest dressing down
he had ever received from another kid. Hal was adamant that Sean stay away,
sexually at least, from older boys. Up to this point, however, his playing
around had not included any anal, though he did witness Hal and Seamus
both, on more than one occasion, using a boy for this purpose; it was,
though, a fairly rare thing, as all three of the older boys were by now far
more interested in girls.

It was pretty much because of his desire to be like the older boys that he
had even really started messing around with other boys. To be sure, it felt
great to have another boy's hand jerking his developing peter, to have some
boy pawing at his balls, or even better having some boy go to town bringing
him off in a hot, wet mouth. He even liked that one time that Jake Mackey,
Garrett's oldest son, stuck a finger up his ass when they were trading
blowjobs. But Sean wasn't sexually driven, as much as he was just always
watching the older boys; he was always looking to be like them, to be seen
like them, to be seen by them --- not by others, but the Three Musketeers
themselves.

When Hal read him the riot act, Sean near-about cried having his idol mad
at him. But he listened. He stayed away from the older boys sexually, and
away from the older Mackeys completely. But in those years, it was still a
rough and almost violent time, comparatively, in the Spring. The unease of
the American Nation itself in the 1960's was paralleled in the Spring, for
some of the same reasons, and for some much older. It wasn't long after Hal
called Sean out for flirting with disaster that his own little brother,
Phillip Tucker, was caught by two 13-year-old Mackeys and a 14-year-old
Outer Mackey (actually a Sanders) while fooling around with Connor Byrne
(trying the whole, finger-in-the-ass-oral-sex thing that Sean had told them
about Jake Mackey trying on him). They were given the option of being
blabbed about to the whole of the rest of Indian Spring, and being put on
the Choosing List for that year (despite the agreement Hal had already made
with Bart Corbin nullifying this, some of the Mackeys were slower to get
it, and others understood but still wanted to push it), or the two boys
could bend over and let the older boys have some real fun.

A nearby fallen tree provided a handy resource for the two boys to make
their decision, which they seriously questioned as a sane choice, while
their virgin asses were broken-in big time and they were fucked repeatedly
by all the boys twice over. It was a very long and very sore afternoon for
them, and when finally done and redressed, they were informed by the three
older boys that they now owned their asses, but that they would make sure
no one ever found out if the two boys 'kept up their end' of the
agreement. Phillip and Connor didn't feel like they had much choice; all
the same they worked their indenture down to about six months, hoping the
older boys wouldn't rat them out to the Council, put them on the Choosing
List anyway, or change up anything else in general. But the older Mackey
boys kept their word and didn't say anything to anyone, including Phillip's
14-year-old brother, Hal Tucker, and Connor's 13-year-old brother, Jack
Byrne.

After those six months of buttocks-slamming were up, Phillip and Connor
decided, once and for all, that boys held no interest for them - just
girls. And like Sean, they would also try and tag along with the Three
Musketeers, though nowhere near as often, and usually when it was more one
on one.

Sean was a bit jealous of his place with the older boys, but things still
worked out. Phillip idolized Seamus, and Seamus tolerated the boy; he was,
after all, the little brother of one of his best friends. Connor meanwhile
followed Michael around, more often than not. Michael and Connor became
fairly good friends, eventually, after Seamus moved and Hal became more
involved in community and social causes. Incidentally, it was Connor
Byrne's neighbor, Eileen Duffy, who married Patrick O'Shaunessey, whose
younger sister, Elizabeth, later married Michael Cormack. Michael and
Elizabeth then later named their third son after Connor Byrne.

But while the Mackeys generally ignored Phillip and Connor (they had
unexplained support among three of the Mackey boy to have others leave them
be), more attention was focused on Sean, principally, and unfortunately for
him, because of his association with Hal Tucker. The Mackey Council, Bart
in particular, and even more so a few other Mackey boys that Bart had to
appease to maintain his power, were still smarting from their last
encounter with the popular Hal Tucker.

Hal unintentionally rubbed it in by being popular among their own. He not
only had broad support among the Near Spring non-Mackeys but had also made
quite a few inroads with the Mackeys, as well.

Hal had become friends with Gordon Mackey, the son of Collin Mackey and
Abner's grandson, as well as Everest Mackey, whose older sister Olivia was
sweet on Will Mackey, Michael's oldest son. With them, he also hung out,
from time to time, with Hollis, Will, and Camden Mackey. Though he was less
and less interested in Hollis' drug business and avoided that more, he
still maintained some respect from the Very Deep. He gave Esther Mackey her
first kiss, being the wild child that she was, before a friendly warning
off from Seth and Amos, but even there he held respect from the Deep
Mackeys. And though he was no friend of Wayne Mackey, having deprived him
of Jonathan Parker's ass the year before, he was very close friends with
Wayne's cousin Deecy Mackey (Douglas Colton Mackey, son of Fielding Mackey
and great-grandson of Douglas Mackey) and had fucked Wayne's older sister
Corinne on three separate occasions (as well as Corinne's older sister
Tamara once), so he was in pretty good stead with the Douglas Mackey
offspring, as well.

But he had run afoul of some fairly powerful Mackey youth and their
families. Bart Corbin for one. Though Bart had dealt fair and just, for the
most part, in striking agreements and respecting Hal's de facto authority
in Near Spring, he did not like having his last year as head of the Council
being challenged by a 13 to 14 year old upstart. Bart's family, as well,
unlike many of the Mackeys, owed nothing to Calvin Tucker and his efforts,
so he was less fearful of the boy's pedigree and was in agreement with four
of the last five Council Presidents (Duane in '65-'66, Paul in '64-'65, and
Elijah in '62-'64; and Kelsey Sanders had run it from '61-'62). The current
president and the previous three that bothered to weigh in on the matter,
all felt that Hal Tucker needed to be shown, once and for all, that the
Mackeys did not and would not bow to the Tucker family.

The problem was that there was nothing that they could do to touch Hal. And
while Elijah may have been well on his way to pure evil, and Able Mackey's
boys (Colton was out of this one as he had already started into his 14 year
alcoholic binge that would cost him, ultimately, his life) were developing
a mean streak that allowed each for a certain bending of the rules, Bart
Corbin was more like his father Ben, on his better days, and less like his
Uncle Joshua or his older brother Titus. Bart was more of a stickler for
rules and diplomacy, but he liked to use each of those unmercifully when he
could. As such, it was under his direction that the plan was switched from
taking on Hal, to just hitting close to Hal --- the argument, among those
who couldn't seem to give up power, being exactly how close.

The most logical target was Hal's little brother, Phillip, but Matthew
Mackey, who was rallying support for election to head the Council when his
brother stepped down, was fairly adamant about leaving Hal's little brother
alone. For Matthew is wasn't just a chance at having an issue with which to
distinguish himself on principle, but also years of anger at having been
the little brother turned by an older brother, namely Bart. Bart popped
Camden Mackey's startled cherry and then used that tender ass more often
than his own hand in 1963, and the next year put his vote down on his own
little brother. He then used Matthew's ass from time to time for the next
two years, in addition to Camden, using the unwritten brother clause that
younger Nathan Mackey helped expand at the same time.

Bart also faced, once Matthew let the word about Phillip get around to
certain guys, opposition from 14 year old Logan Mackey, the favorite for
the Council Presidency in two years from Robert, Jr.'s side of the family,
as well as his 13 year old brother Drake, and 13 year old cousin Ike. Bart
didn't know why the three boys were suddenly attached to the idea of
leaving Phillip Tucker out of things, but they carried weight with a lot of
their age group. That included the idiot brothers Jason and Ryan Mackey
from James III's side of the family, who seemed to have formed some sort of
respect for Hal, despite his having limited their activities with the
Harris boy last year.

Just as well, Bart thought, since he, unlike the counsel he was receiving
from Duane, Paul and Elijah, was loathe to do anything so obviously far
outside the rules upon which he had agreed with Hal; and he would just as
soon leave Phillip out of it (it was Bart's plan all along when he let
Matthew 'accidentally' find out about the hushed proposition). Bart's plan
was much more devious, and relied upon an issue of heritage. And he wasn't
above using it to change the rules again, either.

Through all this Machiavellian planning of the Mackey tribe up to the 1968
Choosing Ceremony, Sean Dawson was oblivious. He still fooled around with
Jake Mackey off and on through the spring, even more so in the month of
June after school let out. It always seemed that Jake was the driver in
these play times, but Sean didn't have much complaint as Jake made him feel
good. He was still resistant to Jake's cajoling to let him top his ass, but
he never held out on trading blow jobs, especially since Jake was a dry
cummer.

Jake was already 12 and the older boy, but it was 11 year old Sean who
first started delivering wet loads at the end of their mutually extracted
climaxes. But from the first, Jake would swallow and not complain, letting
Sean extract the full intensity that came with offloading into a wet, warm,
mawing mouth. What Sean didn't know, was that Jake was being influenced
externally in his actions. Jake lived in fear of the Choosing Day, and he
was getting promises from Bart that the more involved in sex he got the
Dawson boy, the more Bart would use his influence to keep Jake from being
Chosen during the big day.

It was a no-brainer for Jake. He really wasn't that into boys, but sex was
sex and he had a survival instinct keeping him going. But if he couldn't
get Sean to bend over and take one up the ass, then he needed, at least, to
have the boy take something more into his mouth than a dry orgasm. That
became, with Bart's approval, Jakes next target, to find a boy to feed Sean
some Mackey boy seed.

Sean's first time swallowing cum came down at the creek beginning the
second week of June. Jake had convinced his cousin 13 year old Frankie, who
could actually shoot more cum than his seemingly more developed older
brother Gus, that Sean wanted to try his dick, just for the fun of it, and
Frankie didn't have 'to do nothing back' as long as he didn't 'say nothing
to no one'. Then, separately he convinced Sean that Frankie just wanted to
play around once with him, except Sean would have to do him first.

"Does he shoot?"

"Yeah," Jake said impressed.  "Tons!"

Sean made a face and said, "Well, I guess, it might be kinda cool to see
how different it is. As long as he tells me before he shoots."

"Well that ain't fun at all; not for Frankie."

"Well, I don't wanna have it in my mouth; I guess I could just spit it
out."

"No, you gotta swallow it all, Sean. That's how it's done. You don't spit,
unless you think the other guy ain't worth shit."

It was a lie, and Jake knew it.

When it came to mutual oral sex, most experimenting boys stopped before
their partner came. If you didn't, you were almost expected to spit,
although a lot of boys found it more daring and sexually exciting to
swallow. But that was the minority, though Jake was trying to make Sean
believe it was standard.

Jake himself was loath to have ever swallowed Sean's sperms in the first
place. In fact, with every load of semen the boy shot down his throat, Jake
was finding it harder and harder to keep pretending it was all part of the
fun. He only ever did it because Bart told him that spitting wasn't an
option. Suck and swallow the boy to dupe him, or get your ass fucked for
three years. That was the option Bart gave him.

Easy decision.

"I don't know, Jake, I seen Seamus just pull it out and shoot. Those guys
didn't want to swallow."

"That's cause they think if they swallow his stuff then he can use
witchcraft or something on them. You know black magic crap."

Now that part was true.

"I don't want to swallow Frankie's cum."

"I swallow your cum all the time, Sean," and here was where he applied the
psychology crap that Bart was assuring him would work.  "But I guess you
must think I'm shit for doing it."

Jake got up to walk away, as though his feelings were hurt and he was
ashamed of himself. He even went so far as to wipe his eyes on his sleeve
when he had his back to Sean, even though he had no tears. Sean protested
sharply saying that he absolutely did not feel anything bad toward Jake,
and he never had, but still he hadn't 'convinced' the boy.

"Alright, fine, I'll swallow it. I'll trade blow jobs with Frankie; if he
can swallow mine, then I can swallow his. Fair's fair, right?"

Now, Sean thought that this would settle things up just fine between him
and Jake, and the boy wouldn't have his feelings hurt or think that Sean
looked poorly upon him. The problem was that Frankie had no interest at all
in sucking another boy's dick, and that wasn't what he agreed to. Before
Frankie found out the real scoop, Jake had one more play to make.

"Yeah," he said bitterly, throwing it back over his shoulder as though he
were tearing up and unable to look at the other boy.  "Be sure you get a
fair trade so you don't come out looking like a fag boy like me for being
the only one to actually swallow."

And with that he headed for the door, as if he were going to leave.

"Ahhh, no, don't be like that . . . . ."  Sean intoned. He didn't want the
boy going away thinking he thought those things about him. Jake played on
Sean's eagerness to please and make friends.  "Look, how about you tell
Frankie I just wanna do him? OK? You see, I don't think it's really any big
deal, I just, you know . . . . ."

Sean trailed off. He didn't know how to finish that thought, because he
really did think it was a big deal. He didn't want to drink semen. Sure he
had gotten a couple of small shots from one or two other boys, but half the
time he was able to spit them out and half the time they went down before
he could do anything about it. He just pretended those never happened. And
that had really only been once or twice. Mistakes, really. And they were
immature loads, not real cum.

But it sounded like Frankie was the real genuine thing. Actual real boy,
big boy, semen, complete and replete with sperms. Just chock full of
another boy's sperm. And he had just agreed to not only suck dick without
the reward of the return favor, but actually eat cum. Apparently a lot of
it.

Was he crazy???

"You would do that??" Jake asked, wiping his eyes some more and now looking
at the boy. Sean was still too shocked by his own decision to notice that
the boy had never been upset.

"Um, yeah, sure, Jake. I mean . . . . . you would do it for me, right?"

It didn't make him feel better. He had said it out loud hoping it would,
but it didn't.  Jake pushed aside his own nagging conscience to make the
final arrangements. A part of himself, a growing part, was not very happy
with what he was doing, but he had to look out for himself, didn't he??

Sean left Jake to his self-justification and went on to see Holden, after
making a guarantee that he would see Jake the next day at a certain section
of the Crazy Indian.

"Just cum thirsty!"  Jake said to Sean, laughing.  "Get it? 'Come'
thirsty?"

"Yeah," Sean was wondering just how huge a mistake he was making, "real
funny."

He didn't confide anything in Holden about any of this. Holden knew that
Sean was spending time with Jake, but the boy honestly didn't realize that
it had anything to do with sex. He knew that Sean followed Hal about a lot,
and the older handsome boy was known to have sampled a few delights of the
Mackeys, both mouths and asses of boys, and pretty much everything with a
few girls. But Holden didn't consider it when he thought about Sean.

He and Sean just sort of hit it off; that was all. The grandchildren of
Clarence Mackey (i.e., the sons and daughters of Constance, Tyler, Randall,
and Harrison) were a bit more removed from the other Mackeys. They were
much more likely to go to church, and much less likely to engage in sex,
moonshining, or any of the assorted Mackey drama and xenophobia. In Holden,
Sean found something of an oasis of acceptance in the heart of Mackey land
that did not require any posturing, pretending, or aping. He could just be
himself.

For Holden, there was in Sean a nice combination of his non-Mackey normalcy
in upbringing and a bit of the outside fresh air, both of which Holden
found easy to be around. It helped that Sean got along with Phil, Holden's
little brother, though both boys tried to ignore Holden's older and younger
sisters when they would giggle about how cute Sean was.

Plus, Holden was, after all, a normal boy. Despite the religious and more
pure and conservative leanings of his parents, he still had an interest in
what some of the things that he heard happened around Indian Spring could
mean. It wasn't as though he directly wanted to sample those, but Sean had
been in that world, and it was as though he brought the mystique of it, the
wild and rebellious of it, without having to evade the risk, or actually
even dive in. It was just the air of that forbidden and unbidden life that
was enough to captivate Holden. Then he found that he just liked the Near
Springer, as he was, for a simple friend.

So the two usually had fun whenever they got together, without any of the
trappings of Mackey folly. No rules, no shame. No uneasy expectations. It
was just simple boyhood fun. It was actually the most fun Sean ever had,
including whenever he followed the older boys. If things could have
continued in this vein, he would have ultimately abandoned his trailing
after the older boys and found his own corner of the world just as he liked
it.

But the summer had other plans for Sean Dawson.

The next morning, Sean headed down to the creek about two turns above where
the rest of the boys would go to swim. He found Jake waiting for him. He
wouldn't have figured the boy would look so taciturn and uncertain in all
of this, as though he were having to make an effort to smile.

Maybe he really does think that I look down on him for sucking me and
swallowing down all my stuff, Sean thought. But the boy would just as
rather Jake stop doing it than go through with sucking another boy he
didn't really know and swallowing actual boy semen. Sean really wanted to
call it off, but he felt a conflict with what his gut was telling him to do
and the awareness that for so long Jake had done the same for him and that
Sean had enjoyed it. Was it really so wrong that the boy would want some
assurance that Sean wasn't using him?

Sean didn't want to use anybody, which was ironic since, ultimately, that
is why he went ahead and decided to go through with the event. It wasn't
the honor of having already agreed to it. Screw that, if it meant
swallowing some boy's sperm! It was the whole issue of not being the one
who was just using Jake for sex. That was his reason, though the whole time
it was simply Jake who was using him for evading a longer servitude of sex.

Sean had barely time to greet the boy before Frankie Mackey showed up,
coming through the bushes, off what must have been a hidden trail.

"Hey guys!"

Sean didn't greet the kid immediately, because he was, at the moment
stunned by what came out of the bushes after Frankie. It was another
kid. An even older kid, at least he looked that way, as indeed he was.

"You're Sean, right?  Seen you around a lot.  Don't think I've ever said
hey.  I'm Frankie, by the way, but I guess you knew that since you was
wantin' to suck my dick an' all."

"Um, I, uh . . . ."

While Sean was struggling for words, Frankie held up his hands and waved it
off.  "Hey man, no sweat.  It's all cool.  Free love and all that, right?
Isnt this the summer for it? Thing is, you don't have to say why you want
to try it, that's your biz.  I don't mind; I can do my little cousin Jake
here a favor or two . . . . . So you wanna like, kneel on the ground in
front of me? . . . . . or you want me to . . . . uh . . . . . . yeah, over
there would work. I could sit on that tree over there, or maybe lay down
and you could suck it that way.  It's up to you, man."

Sean had to shake his head and clear the cobwebs. This was just too
unreal. He just pointed at the other guy and stared at Frankie with a blank
expression.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry. This is Kurt. Yeah I know, another fuckin' Mackey,
hunh?"

The three Mackeys all laughed, as if this were funny somehow.

"No," Sean said, finally finding his voice.  "What's he doing here?"

"Oh, I just happened to run into him on the way here. He was wantin' to see
Gus's latest Batman comic book, so I said I'd show'im it, but on the way
gotta do a favor."

A favor?  What the hell did he mean a favor?  Sean would have explored this
further, but he still didn't feel that he had an answer to his question.

"No, I mean, why is he here?"

"Oh, well it'd be weird, don't you think, just to tell him to wait out on
the trail while I went and got a blowjob? Kurt's seen all this before; it
ain't nothing new to him. If I knew you were gonna be a little kid about
all this I wouldn't have come down here."

Frankie didn't say that or mean it as a way to try to pressure Sean, or
even make fun of him. Frankie really believed that if you weren't able to
handle it, then you shouldn't be doing it. Jake meanwhile was blushing
furiously and looking away as though he were humiliated; and 14 year old
Kurt was smiling at the boy like you would look down on a kid caught out
doing something he shouldn't.

The truth of these reactions was that Kurt didn't just happen to run into
Frankie by accident right before Frankie came down here. It was timed so
that Frankie would have little to no leeway but to bring Kurt along. Kurt
knew when Frankie was coming because Jake had told him, as he had been
directed to do by Bart. Kurt was Bart's man among the Thom Clan, not
Carter.  Carter just thought he was important to Bart, and Bart let him;
but Kurt had been 'working' for Bart since Kurt was 11, three years ago,
when he began to lay out his plans against his older brother in the
Choosing, and it continued to this year against his younger brother Justin
who would be in the Choosing in two weeks.

Jake, meanwhile, was looking thoroughly ashamed, because that's what he
was. He knew what he was doing was horribly wrong, and his conscience was
more than pricked. He was also upset that Kurt got to watch him in this
betrayal of his better morals. But what Sean thought was that Jake was
embarrassed because Sean was acting like something between a kindergartner
and a country bumpkin. It actually made Sean feel a bit ashamed of himself
that he could be causing Jake such acute embarrassment in front of these
older boys. It was unfortunate that he took that cue from his
misobservation, because it led him to his next action.

"Um, no, it's OK," Sean said after a taking a deep breath.  "He can stay,
it's fine. Maybe, um, maybe if you sit on that log over there, I can kneel
down without havin' to have to lean over."

"How about I just drop my pants and you drop to your knees right here?"
Frankie said with a smile.

"Uh, no.  That would just be, um, too weird for me. Sorry. I can't . . . do
it like that."

"Your show," Frankie said with a shrug and walked over to the moss covered
log. He didn't just drop his pants but took them, his underwear, socks and
shoes and shirt all off and sat down on the comfortable moss. He leaned
back slightly and spread his legs as a sign for Sean to come and drop down
between them. The boy's dick was already steel hard and standing straight
up over four inches with a pronounced head, swollen with a sharp ridge that
dropped back in to the shaft and rising like a skyscraper out of the tight
nest of reddish brown curls at the base.

Sean was feeling a bit nervous about this. It was bigger and more mature
than the smaller ones he had played around with already. He imagined
briefly that this must be what Holden's looked like - maybe. He had never
seen Holden naked, and he wasn't practically keen on it. Still, it might
look like this. But there was no sense in delaying further, and he walked
to the boy and dropped down to his knees, suddenly concerned, as his
nervousness sharply increased the closer he got to this ramrod of flesh.

Frankie's balls were large compared to Jake's and his scraggly hairs
covered his balls as well, albeit in slight coverage, and thinner and
shorter than the reddish-brown versions framing the base of that dick. Sean
tried to ignore the butterflies that were practically beating the walls of
his stomach black and blue, and reached out and grabbed a hold of that
hardness with his left hand.

Oh crap.

It was even harder than Jake's little rubbery flesh wand, and hotter, and
more . . . . . dangerous. It was like going from shooting rubber bands to
grasping the stock of a warrior's rifle, and a sudden faintness shot up his
body. He had to gulp and control his breathing and try to batter the wave
back down so that he wouldn't look like even more of a kid in front of
these guys.

"You, OK, man, you sure about this?"  Frankie asked a bit concerned, and
Sean even felt it in the older boy's dick as it lost a bit of its steel
edge.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," Sean said, forcing a smile to his face and leaned
forward before he either passed out or lost his nerve to do this. There was
something fascinating about the dick . . . . something about being this
close to the most fully defined real-boy dick that he had ever been this
close to, but that bizarre and sudden kinky interest was no help at all,
and he fairly successfully banished it from his thoughts, regardless of the
fact that it might have helped him get through what he was about to do.

Sean lowered his mouth and felt the spongy fullness of the helmeted
dickhead, surprisingly smooth for the space it took up as it opened wide
his mouth and began clearing a passage for the shaft that his lips and
tongue found a few seconds later. There was no doubt that Frankie was back
on track with doing this, as his dick resprang smoothly into its steel beam
form. Sean could even feel the head harden under his tongue as the shaft
straightened and eased a few more millimeters of flesh into his mouth,
without his moving any further downward.

The boy took his time getting used to the hardness in his mouth, and
Frankie just moaned and seemed content to let the boy take all the time he
wanted. Frankie ran one hand through Sean's head and moaned out, "Ah fuck,
you feel great! . . . . You're doing great, Sean, just like you are. Do
what you want, man, just . . . fuck, that feels so good . . . . ."

Frankie didn't sound so scary and problematic as Sean had initially
worried, despite the position he was in relative to the boy. Sean figured
if he was definitely committed to the full of this action (or the fool of
this action?), then he should make it good, do the best he could, and gain
the whole experience while he was at it. He had a feeling he wouldn't be
repeating this again, ever, on anybody. So he went to town to try and
please the hip, but still country, boy.

Sean was able to slide his mouth up and down the first 2 ½ inches at this
point. He couldn't take in any more because of a fear of choking, but every
now and then he would bring his mouth up to swirl the dickhead completely
with his tongue, moving the tip across and slightly into the hole at the
apex, causing the older boy to squirm almost uncontrollably with spasms
that ripped up years of moss from the log, right before Sean would travel
back down, keeping his teeth out of the way, applying pressure with his
lips and suction with his mouth, all the while plying his way with an eager
tongue.

And he was eager in some ways - eager to see what it was like when it was
done right for someone, eager to see, now that he was more or less 'forced'
to, to see what an older boy actually felt like in the mouth, to maybe get
an answer when he had questioned why those boys that did Seamus and Hal,
and that one he had seen do Michael, why they seemed to do it with such
gusto, maybe even enjoyment.

But he was definitely not eager for the end, the end that he knew would
'cum' eventually.  An end that could be barely forestalled, but certainly
not avoided once down this path; and an end that would have no problem
completing its journey to his mouth, to go down his throat. After all, was
he not pre-loading his fate? Was he not giving the instrument of that end
the penetrance of assurance in its delivery? It was the moment when his
mouth would be awash with sperm, when he would finally trigger that gun to
feed him all the semen that he never wanted to drink. That was the end that
was coming, the end he did not want, but the end he knew he would take in
full, to completion.

It was something that still kept his nerves fluttering, still kept him
wondering if he really did have something alive already in his stomach. And
it didn't help when he saw Kurt Mackey sidle up to Frankie on the log and
then unsnap and unzip his pants. Kurt then pushed them down to his ankles
and spread his knees so that they were touching Frankie's, and there in the
crux of that spread was a broader base of darker and fuller pubes, and
rising out of those was a towering shaft of close to five inches, inches
that Kurt had long been used to feeding into his own older brother, and
soon hoped to open up that teasing virgin ass of his brother Justin that
seemed to flash at him every time he caught the boy skinny-dipping with his
friends.

Sean was well aware of the boy and couldn't help but notice the thicker
towering flesh barely wavering there in its tribute to Colossus. Sean
concentrated harder on the writhing dick under his current considerations,
keeping more of the shaft within his mouth, tiring his tongue along all the
sensitive nerves along the front of Frankie's sole point of light at this
time and quite aware of the boy arching his hips slightly to pump the
marvelous ministering mouth, just a bit more than the great boy slavering
his dick so hard and well would allow. Frankie was on a very short
collision course with orgasm and Sean knew it, understood it more deeply
than even his own masturbatory experiences would hint, but even so he was
distracted some by the bigger dick to his right . . . . wavering
. . . . . unflinching . . . . . . waiting . . . . . . its turn.

Sean kept waiting, hoping and 'expecting' to see Kurt to start jacking
himself to the intoxicating site of another boy about to unload in a
younger boy's mouth. But no, he wasn't touching it. In between loading his
brothers, Kurt was going to save a load, telling his nuts to hold, to be
patience, to peace-be-still, because he was soon going to call on them to
give up their all and send it down this Near Springer's throat. Sean knew,
sure as anything, the expectation was that he would have one more teenage
dick to travel down; and as he played back the scene of Jake's discomfort
when things started going, Sean had a slow, sneaking suspicion that he had
been set up somehow.

He no longer thought Kurt 'just happened' to run into Frankie. But he was
also thinking Frankie may have had something to do with it.

Frankie, meanwhile, was way too far gone to notice that the boy had lost
some of the edge in his interest at giving the ultimate blowjob, at least
that his relative inexperience could allow; because up to this point, the
boy was practically a natural. It was already the best head Frankie had
ever received and had ever thought he would ever get until he met that
magical, mystical, unseen girl of his future dreams. As it was, he was
barreling down to orgasm extraordinaire and his nuts were already drawing
up to almost painfully give up all that they could even possibly add to the
semen that he was even now shooting across the last of the exorcising
tongue and down the throat of Sean Dawson.

Sean felt it flowing in, shooting in really, and there was a moment's
hesitation if he really, REALLY, wanted to go through with this, but more
was coming up the pike, and his mouth was getting full. It was warm, thick,
somewhat slimy, slightly salty, and a bit more pungent than he was
expecting. But it was real, it was there, and it was happening; and he
needed to do something with it. So he swallowed. He swallowed the whole
load, imagining as he did so, the whole journey down his throat and into
his stomach of hundreds? thousands? millions? of sperm in what felt like
cups of Frankie's semen. Semen, by the way, that was still coming. And he
swallowed automatically after that, continuing the sucking traction on the
dick and reflexively moving the shooting cum down his throat as it was
delivered from its straining, spasming dispenser.

Eventually Frankie quit thrusting, quit moaning and grunting each
ejaculation and quit hollering out incomprehensible words with bursts of
somewhat questionable encouragements on the amazing job that Sean was
doing. Eventually the jerks that Sean's tongue could detect in the dick
began to die away; and Sean gave one last sucking slurp and pulled off the
now slightly limping dick. Frankie kept his hands in the boys hair, still
holding his head and leaned over him, worn out and happy, and he said the
same about his dick.

"Ho-shit, Sean, look what you done. Good gosh you were incredible, but
. . . wow . . . look at him! Look at the little man," Frankie exclaimed,
referring to his very slowly deflating dick.  "Look at what you done to the
little guy. He's all worn out and tired and happy. Really happy."

Sean did look.  There was a strange feeling of pride somewhere, pride that
he had done this, that he had such power somewhere within him. He stared at
the dick, still in a close up condition, as it slowly, very slowly, made
its way downward, still mostly erect, but now more lazily pointing strait
at him, moving to a position where it now pointed directly at his lips,
simultaneously a reminder and an accusation, as it seemed now to simply
rocket out of the maturing patch of curls that spoke to the sperm count of
the boy's essence he had swallowed, as much as the balls loosening below
did.

The balls were large, independently accentuated in a sac pulled around them
like a wet swimsuit would do to the ass cheeks of a boy in his prime of
life. They still looked full, but Sean didn't see how they could be; surely
he swallowed more than ¾ of their mass in just the first few volleys.

Frankie released the boy's head, and now came the moment of shameful
realization when Sean would have to pull away and stand up in front of the
boy he had just serviced, acknowledging reality, a witnessed reality at
that. But before the shame could rise too far, he felt Kurt's hand on the
side of his head pulling him over to his lap and his patiently waiting dick
that was still standing high and hadn't yet sacrificed so much as a
micrometer of altitude in its stewardship of Kurt's desire.

Sean knew he no longer had a choice in this, or at least, that's what he
believed, and he readjusted himself from Frankie's lap to leaning on Kurt's
upper legs. Sean didn't make any complaint when his mouth was positioned
right over the taller monolith, to where his lips already grazed the
precum-slicked slit of the larger dickhead. They kissed, the dick and lips,
not of their own accord, but after the fashion of introduction, and then
opened to allow the first taste, as the dickhead was met by the tongue
operating on a curiosity all of its own. Then full entry was granted as the
wet lips opened wider and slipped around the even larger head. The tongue
moved down to make way and rubbed the frenulum into spasmodic excitement as
it slipped roughly down the front of the shaft, one writhing snake against
the body of another.

Then it became more of a battle of muscles as Sean's mouth tried to
accommodate, actually 'suck' and orally pleasure the invader and as Kurt
tried to lift off the log and fuck the mouth going down on his steely
hardness.

"Holy fuck, you weren't kiddin' Frankie. This mouth feels fucking
fantastic. This kid's a natural!" Although what actually came out was a bit
more grunted in parts, shriller than expected in others, and on the whole
disrupted in smooth flow by the amazing feelings running up and down his
dick and through his body.

Sean wasn't liking this, but in a different way than he didn't like doing
Frankie's. With Frankie it was still a choice, and there was something of
an undercurrent of fascination and discovery that made the whole experience
. . . . well, if not pleasant, then at least neutral, except when it came
to the actual swallowing of the slimy substance, something which in Kurt he
was sure to be even more in volume and just vile. But the whole of this
second experience was altogether unpleasing, though he was doing his best
to make an effort in trying hard. He was hating it. Before, he just didn't
WANT to do it, now he did NOT want to do it.

It must have shown on his face, but the second clue was when Kurt ran his
hands through Sean's hair, first maybe in innocent encouragement, at least
that's what Frankie told himself when he looked on in growing concern as he
came out of his own post-orgasmic stunning. But when Kurt began applying
pressure downward, forcing the boy to take more and more dick, the tight
grimace in Sean's eyes and the almost inaudible whimpers told Frankie a
different story.

"Hey, hold up, now, he's not enjoying this, Kurt,"

"Don't be a killjoy Frankie, and relax, the boy's a fuckin' natural. This
is right up his alley."

"Let up, Kurt; he doesn't like it," Frankie insisted.

But Kurt just ignored the boy. Frankie was a year younger, smaller, and
nowhere near as mean as Kurt could be.  "Hey, Jakey, speaking of 'up his
alley,' get around to the back of that boy and get your dick hard. Try
going up his alley for real; bet he's a fuckin' natural there, too. Get it?
'Fuckin' natural?"

Kurt laughed at his own joke and then gave a dirty sort of encouragement to
Sean, who was still going down on the dick with his mouth, but now
fearfully and about to cry.

"Jake," Frankie warned his cousin, "go anywhere near his ass and I swear
I'll fuck you myself, and then I'll get Gus and Gordon to do the same, and
they will; you know they will."

Jake knew and backed off worried; things were not supposed to work out like
this. At least, this isn't what he had planned. He wondered, though, if
Bart didn't have different plans, plans he didn't bother to share with
Jake.

Kurt kept going though; he was determined to cream the boy's mouth. All he
would have to say was that the boy was willing to start it, and he never
said anything to the contrary. But Frankie wasn't waiting for Kurt to
develop an after-excuse. He yelled out, "I said, let up!!"  as he shoved
the boy hard in the center of his chest, sending the older Kurt sprawling
backward off the log. As he went his dick was ripped out of Sean's mouth,
popping the boy right on his eyeball before following its adolescent owner
to the forest floor.

Frankie pulled Sean away and to his feet as Kurt jumped back up to his
feet, at least as best as he could with his pants and underwear around his
ankles, which wasn't very gracefully. He seemed to understand, though, that
an end had been reached as he bent down and pulled them mostly back up
before he glared at Frankie and asked what the hell his problem was.

"Unless you were looking to finish the blow job, Frankie?"  The older boy
added with menacing intent. The log was still between them and Kurt didn't
have his pants all the way back up, as the underwear had become entangled
enroute, so there was still a comfort margin for Frankie to move. Except,
of course, the 13 year old boy was stripped naked and in his bare feet. He
wouldn't get far like that. And he had no doubt that Kurt could win a fight
in those circumstances, but he did have one more thing going for him.

"I wouldn't think of tryin' anything, Kurt. You might can beat me seein' as
all you're a little bigger, a fair dumber and a lot less naked than me, but
if you do I'll see to it you get bent over just like Jake. I bet your older
brother ain't as interested in your health and happiness as BOTH of mine
are in me, as well as few more cousins on my side and probably yours as
well."

Kurt calmly reconsidered this proposal while he straightened out his
underwear and got everything eventually pulled up and tucked away
proper. He had no doubt he could get Frankie onto his first taste of
dick. The two smaller boys would be too scared to do anything. That alone
gave his dick quite a stirring and would provide him with countless future
jack-off sessions afterward, and he was sorely tempted to do it, sorely
tempted to force those virgin lips down his still-hard rod, the same aching
erection that was making an obvious impression in the front of his pants;
but in Indian Spring, such actions required weighing the payback. It wasn't
like things like that imagined forced scenario never happened, and a lot of
times the payback was nothing at all; but he was inclined to believe
Frankie's take on the eventual outcome.

"Fine, whatever, Frankie. You wanna keep that boy's mouth all to yourself
and your dick, I'll remember that. But pretty soon, that outsider and my
little brother Justin are going to have a lot in common."

"Whatever you wanna do to your little brother, I feel sorry for your
messed-up family. But Sean ain't a Mackey, so don't go getting confused,
Kurt."

"So you say, Frankie. We'll see."

It was a cryptic response, and Frankie wasn't sure what to make of it as
the older boy left. The only thing Frankie was certain about now was that
Kurt wasn't interested in the comic book to start with, or at least, not
too terribly interested. And Frankie wasn't sure what to make of that
either.

"So, uh, Sean," Jake began nervously, "You wanna go back to my house, and,
um, maybe play some?"

"No," Sean said quietly, wiping the back of his mouth and looking like he
was making great efforts to keep some rising bile down, "I just want to go
home."

"Are you sure, uh-"

"Beat it, Jake," Frankie told his younger cousin.  "For real, go home and
beat it; he doesn't wanna play with your little prick. And I don't think he
wanted to mess with mine, neither."

Jake backed off and disappeared in the bushes, toward some hidden trail,
before Frankie got around to threatening his actual ass again.

"Hey, not that you weren't totally blowin' me away earlier, uh
. . . . . . I mean . . . . um, bad choice of words. That is . . . . . you
were freaking amazing on my dick. I really liked it, and, uh Thanks."

Sean furrowed his eyes. He didn't know how to answer that. He certainly
didn't feel like saying 'you're welcome.' On the other hand, it was
actually nice to be acknowledged as an equal of sorts and to see some
appreciation of what he did, even if it was a mistake. So he just shrugged.

"I also don't think anymore that you were really wanting to do it. Not sure
why you did this, but I am sorry. I'm not the kind of person that makes
people do things they don't want. In my family, I could name four or five
uncles that would beat my ever-lovin' ass if I did. And my oldest brother
Will. And his best friend Hollis. And my cousin Jeb. Well, you get the
point. So, I really am sorry."

"You didn't seem so sorry."

"Ah hell, I thought you were wanting to. Do you know how incredibly good
you were?"  Frankie asked the boy. Sean was realizing he must have been
pretty good to merit that enthusiasm; but it wasn't someone he wanted to
be.  "Oh, I WISH you were wanting to do it, cause I'd love to get another
one. But I don't think you want to."

"I don't, I just wanna go home," Sean turned to leave and started walking
away.

"No! Wait!"

"Just leave me alone!!!"  Sean was upset and near tears now, leaving the
clearing and heading through the trees where he saw a trail in the
distance.

"Would you hold on a second??"  Frankie called out and then began a
frenzied search for his underwear, trying to pull them on and up as quickly
as he could, only to realize they were inside out and having to pull them
off, reverse them, and pull them on again.  "Just wait a second!!"

But the younger kid wasn't waiting and the sounds of him tramping in the
woods was trailing off in the distance while Frankie was rapidly pulling on
pants, shirt, socks, shoes - why did he have to get all the way undressed??
And why did he have to suddenly feel somewhat responsible for the boy.

Frankie took off running after Sean, catching up with him on one of the
trails.

"Wait up, will you?"

"Just leave me alone!"

"All right, I will! But you're going the wrong way, and I don't think it
would be a great idea for you to run into Kurt again on your own."

Sean stopped and waited for ten seconds before spinning around, giving
Frankie an angry look and stomping off down the trail in the opposite
direction that he had been going.

Frankie sighed and called out again, "If you go that way long enough,
you'll still be headed in the wrong direction."

Sean stopped again. It was all he could do not to burst into tears. He felt
Frankie walk up behind him and take him by the arm and give him a gentle
tug in the direction of the woods on the right of him.

"Come on," the 13 year old boy said kindly, "Let me take you home, or at
least to the Near Spring."

Sean was definitely not feeling like following an older boy into the woods
after what had just happened to him, but Frankie must have sensed this and
turned around to softly say, "Trust me."

There was absolutely no malice in those eyes, so Sean let himself be led
through trackless woods and was very shortly deposited on another trail.

"This one here, if you take it that way, and always stay to the left until
you get to a real big elm that's got a heart craved in it with the initials
T & H in it and then take the right fork then it will take you out to the
Cormacks, you know them?"

Sean nodded.  "I know Michael."

"Well, you'll be safe with them."

"Are you . . . . . I'm going on my own from here?"

The poor Near Springer looked to Frankie to be somewhere between ashamed
and frightened. Frankie felt that tug of responsibility.

"Nahh, I'll go with you all the way to their house, but I can take you to
yours if you want."

Sean shook his head no, and the boys walked on. They fell to talking about
what Sean was even doing playing with Jake. Sean shrugged; he wasn't
sure. It was a little fun, but he seemed to have just gotten trapped into
doing more than he wanted. He just didn't see it coming. He was realizing
that Jake was the one who was always starting it, also.

"He's always wanting to mess with my butt, too."

"I can see why the little horndog would," Frankie added, but Sean stopped
and asked him why.  "Well, cause you got a real nice butt."

"How would you know? You've never seen it."

Frankie almost said it was a Mackey specialty after years of 'training,'
but he bit that off and just lied.  "I've seen you with swim shorts on."

"Oh. What about yours?"

"I guess people say it's nice; well at least lots of girls do, and a few
boys wanted it to."

"You ever do anything back there?"

"Unnunhh. No way. I'm not into that. It's OK if some boys are, and I feel
bad for the ones that don't get a real say, and I've been inside a couple
them, but I don't want anybody messing with me back there."

"So what's a nice butt?"

"Guess it just depends on who wants it, and for what," Frankie said. He had
never thought about trying to define it.  "Wanna see mine?"

Sean nodded and blushed; he kinda did want to see.

"I may still got some moss or stuff on it," Frankie said as he turned
around, undid his pants and dropped them and his underwear to mid-thigh,
bending over just a bit.  Sean picked up the hem of the shirt and lifted it
up so that he could have a better look. Whoever was saying it was a nice
butt had been right, but Sean couldn't for the life of him figure out what
he could say to argue that it was a nice butt. It was just
. . . . nice. Very nice. Attractive even.

"You gotten a good look yet?"  Frankie asked smiling.

"Oh, sorry."  Sean dropped the hem of the shirt and readjusted himself,
blushing even further.

"Ah, man, don't worry about that. Guess you would have figured that out. I
don't mind messing around with other guys, just not into buttplay, or at
least, my butt."

Sean just nodded.  He got a brief glance at Frankie's larger semi-hard dick
again, when the boy turned around to face him and to pull everything up and
tuck it away. Sean felt his own dick lurch again and wondered why. He also
wondered if he was supposed to offer to show his ass in return. He still
wasn't sure of the rules of this game yet. Or whether he wanted to play it
with anybody or not; he was seriously beginning to think that he did
not. All the same:

"Um, you, uh, wanna see mine?"

"Yeah! That'd be cool; but just so you know, you don't have to."

Sean just gave a nervous nod, but he undid his shorts anyway. But he
couldn't bring himself to just drop them on the trail like Frankie
did. Fortunately Frankie didn't make him have to face that decision for
long, as the boy stepped up and slipped his thumb into the waistband of
Sean's underwear and pulled them back, but hardly down at all. He got a
real good look at the curving outward of the upper part of that ass and the
nice split between them, a virgin split.

"Whoa . . . . . that is nice."

"Um, thanks." Sean let Frankie take his time looking, though he was nervous
throughout. Finally Frankie eased the waistband back and let Sean do up his
buttons again.

"Look, Sean, you don't seem like you really WANT to mess around with guys
any . . . ."

"I don't. I don't think. At least, not any more. I don't really like it."

"Well, you seem nice. You maybe should stay out of the Mackey Lands. I'm
not too sure how you ended up back here anyway, unless it was all Jake."

"I got other friends back here. I just fooled around some with Jake. We
aren't really friends. I don't fool around with friends."

"Like?"  For as nice as Frankie was, he wasn't going to roll out the
welcome mat for non-Mackeys, especially ones that go and get themselves in
this kind of trouble.

"Like Holden. Him and me are good friends."

Frankie just nodded, turning it over in his mind.  "Holden is good
people. All Clarence's people are. Does he know you do this stuff with
Jake?"

Sean shook his head no and begged Frankie not to say anything.

"Relax, I'm not gonna tell him, but he'll find out. Don't none of Randall's
kids mess around with anybody; Harrison's either. So I can see where you
don't want him finding out. But he lives pretty deep back in the Very Deep,
and not too far from Kurt. They're in the same Kinset, even; though me and
Holden are more close relations than Holden and Mason, or Kurt."

"Kinset?"

"Uh . . . . it don't matter; don't worry about it. All that matters for you
is that it's probably safer that Holden does know what happened. You should
tell him."  Frankie turned and kept walking down the path toward the
Cormacks, keeping to the left, once pointing out an old trail, a very old
trail, that split out on his right.

"Don't ever go down that trail, Sean. If you ever find yourself back here,
maybe with one of the Cormacks, they're the only ones we don't hassle on
this section of trails, and even if you come back with them, don't ever go
down it."

"Why?"

Frankie walked on another ten steps or so before answering, "Just memorize
it, and stay the hell off it."

Duly noted, Sean thought. He planned to stay off all these trails, with
Michael or not.

"So the Cormacks can use them without being messed with?"

"And the Byrnes. Maybe the Duffy."

"What about the Lanham's?"

But Frankie just shivered and crossed himself, as well as making another
motion that Sean couldn't quite identify.

"Are you Catholic?"

"Something like."  But that was all the answer he was going to get. They
passed a fork in the path and took the left one.

"So, does that other path go some place . . . . bad . . . . too?"

"That?"  Frankie asked, "That one back there? Naw, it goes lots of places,
included back behind that fancy new Saltwater place."

"Sweetwater?"

"If you say so. Aint nothing sweet about them. They tried to take over lots
of the land down that trail."

"What stopped them?"

"Mr. Tucker, course. Ain't nobody he can't stop. All my family likes
him. Some Mackeys don't, though."

"Mr. Tucker? You mean Hal's dad?"

"You know his son?"  Frankie stopped walking and looked at Sean a little
funny.

"Well, yeah. Don't everybody know who Hal is?"

"I guess. I didn't figure you was that close to him."

"He's why I started coming back here in the first place."

"Huh."  Frankie uttered thinking to himself.  "Well that explains a few
things."

"Like what?"

"Like why Kurt was interested in you so much. I mean you look nice, don't
get me wrong, and you suck like a mother-, uh, well, sucker. But I was
feeling there was something else. It didn't make sense. It still don't, but
. . . . . ."

"What could he have against me? I don't even know him."

"Well, it ain't you. You know, ole Kurt, he can be all right, if you don't
have something he wants but can't get, but he hangs around with a pretty
. . . I don't know . . .  dangerous maybe? group. But it's Hal they don't
like. They can't get him; but if he's the one bringing you back here, they
can get you."

"What? Hal's cool. There's nothing wrong with him. Everybody likes Hal."

"There ain't nobody that everybody likes, Sean, and there's a few that
really don't like him. His dad has lots of power over people's lives here,
and Uncle Angus went trance-like once front of some folk and let out a
cognishun about him."

"A what?"

"Like seeing the future, something. He said that Hal Tucker would 'bring
forth two scion of the Drunken Brave from under his wings, one to break the
Mackeys and the other to heal them."

"What does that mean?"

"No one knows what the hell it means, Sean, that's just the way Uncle Angus
talks sometime. He's got The Sight, you know, Seventh Son of a Seventh Son
and all that shit. During the Sight, you can't ever tell what decade Uncle
Angus is living in. Same with Hollis sometimes, too, except his is just
cause of the pot, and whatever else he's growin' out there."

"So who are the . . . . . . well . . . WHAT are the . . . . scion?"

Frankie just shrugged.  "If he's seen it, Uncle Angus, that is, he won't
say. Doesn't know what you're talking about if you ask him.  But there's
lots of folk aren't comfortable with Hal Tucker coming around. It ain't
him, so much, they're afraid of, but these two sons he's supposed to have
in the future. If they are sons. At least, that's what everybody thinks
it's talking about. Nobody really knows what a scion really is, though, and
even fewer listen to everything Uncle Angus says."

"What about you, do you like Hal?"

"I don't guess I really know him. I know he and Deecy are real good
friends, and my Uncle Dylan thinks Mr. Fee's kids, you know, Deecy and Reed
and Grace, all walk on the moon, I think cause their Uncle Dawson who died
back in World War II and my Uncle Dylan were real good friends, you know,
like the bestest friends. Anyway, he thinks Hal is a great kid. And my dad
and my Uncle Collin think Hal's dad, Mr. Tucker, is the only one who can
keep the community whole, including the Mackeys. Then, also, my oldest
brother Will, he's best friends with Hollis, he says that Hal is one of the
few guys that Hollis will let come back to his fields or to his still."

"But Hal doesn't drink or smoke---"

"I didn't say that he did, just saying that Hollis and Will trust
him. Then, this one time I was at my Uncle Angus's one day gettin' my bone
set---"

"Wait, getting what?"

"You know, my bone set. I broke my bone. My arm bone, doofus. Uncle Angus
is a bonesetter, too. You know, same shit, Seventh Son of Seventh Son
crap."

"Why didn't you go to a doctor??"

"Cause I wanted it to heal straight again and not spend weeks and weeks
doing it."

"How long does it take your Uncle Abner to heal a bone?"

"Well . . . . . weeks . . . . . but not as many weeks as the fake doctors
that go to school to learn it. Anyway, I was gettin' it set and he says to
me in that weird Uncle Angus kind of way, that one day Hal Tucker is going
to ask me for something, and that I need to give it to him with no
questions asked, no matter how big or important it is."

"Does Hal know?"

"I don't know. But it's supposed to be something pretty major. And then he
said that barely ten years will pass from that point 'fore my middle son
will be given an opportunity to protect one of Hal's sons, and for me to
pass it along when I have kids and tell my kid to step up when it's time."

"How are you supposed to know? I mean, how's he supposed to know when?
Your, uh, middle son?"

"I don't know, man; I haven't even fucked a girl yet. And I sure don't want
to go and get one preggers. But supposedly when I do, somebody's supposed
to tell him 'It's time.' "

"Wait, someone's just going to say 'It's time! Please step up.' ?"

"Actually, yeah, that's just the way my uncle said it would happen."

"Your Uncle Angus is weird."

"Yeah, I know."  Frankie agreed and both boys started laughing hard. They
laughed for a while before Frankie straightened himself up and said they
should go on. When they were passing the great Elm, Sean looked up and
noticed that not just the bark, but the tree itself had split open through
the carved heart, making it a broken heart.

Frankie, meanwhile, had grown and withdrawn, looking about him ever more
cautiously.

"What's wrong?"

"Ain't nothin' wrong," Frankie said defensively, but all the same stopped
and darted a look off to his left before continuing on, but then stopping
again.  "It's . . . . . just the haint, that's all."

"The haint?"

"Yeah, you know, like a scary house, 'cept this is real and kinda more
spread out. Don't many of us Mackey ever pass that tree, back there. Not on
this trail."

"You mean ghosts??"  Sean looked around, half wanting to laugh, and more
than half wanting to leave.

But Frankie just squinted his eyes like he was thinking real hard and shook
his head looking out over the woods east of them.  "Nahh, it ain't that
'xactly. It's . . . . . somethin' else. It's like . . . . somethin' bad
that's already happened, even though it ain't really happened yet. It goes
from back of the Cormacks to that tree and then even more down that trail I
told you stay off, all the way back into the west side of Tucker Deep."

"Of . . . . of what?"

"Tucker Deep. It's an old part of Indian Spring."

"Named after Hal's dad?"

Frankie just shook his head.  "His Grandpa, maybe even his grandpa's
grandpa; nobody knows why though. Just is. Most folks before that just
called it The Deep, I heard. Just beyond that is where Hollis lives. Since
that area is beyond the Deep, it's called the Very Deep. So all the Mackeys
that live past that area are called Very Deep Mackeys, except some of James
Jr's offspring, and some of them are called Deepest Mackey, cause they're
way, way, way back in there. And everything between here and Tucker Deep
and over to the east end of the nameless woods is called Deep Mackey."

"The nameless woods?"

"Yeah, big area that they ain't got around to naming, yet. Gotta have
patience," Frankie said with a smile, "we only been here 130 years."

Sean smiled back and Frankie went on to tell him that all the Mackeys from
the big tree they passed, up to the front of the Spring were called Near
Mackeys, though they all lived on the east side of The Drunken Brave,
across the creek from where they were at the moment.

"So did some people die out here or something?"

"I asked Uncle Angus that onest. He said there's people that died and
there's people that died but that ain't died yet, but that weren't the
problem. Told you, it's hard to talk to Uncle Angus sometimes. There's
others say that it's old, especially in the west side of the Deep. Like
real old. Reeaalll Old. So old it's gone bad in some ways. There's some
that say it ain't Elijah and Cleveland that make the area dangerous or
rude, but the area that's made Elijah mean and Cleveland crazy."

"So how come it doesn't bother the Cormacks none?"

Frankie shrugged, though it was clear that he had been a bit spooked by
something out there.

"Heard said that they got a Banshee. Their own, from old Ireland."

"A banshee?"

"Yeah; there's some of them that my ancestors in Scotland used to know
about. It's a spirit-like that goes about moanin' and screamin' and
what-not if someone's gonna die, or they can tell you when you're gonna
die, and how. I heard all this from old Thane that lives out near Old
Knot. He says Scottish banshees like my family would have known are like,
unattached, and just go about wherever; but Irish banshee are like attached
to certain families, and they only wail and such for that family. But
that's all the Irish ones does."

"So . . . . ."

"If you believe all that."  Frankie hastily added, pretending it was all
bunk, even as he looked a bit nervously around as he attempted a denial.

"So . . . . how would some crying lady protect the Cormacks?"

"Some of these spirits is vengeful, some real protective, some both. If the
banshee got it in her head that you was infringin' on her right to give
omens to the Cormack, she might not take kindly. Don't no Mackey ever
challenge a Cormack in this area. And if you ever see a washer woman out
here or down at the creek, let her 'lone, and don't ever help her with her
wash. If you do get caught, wring the opposite direction."

Sean looked at Frankie like he might be nuts.

"I mean, I ain't sayin' I believe in none of this, cause I don't."  Again
the older boy looked around uncertainly as he denied this out loud.  "I'm
just sayin'. You know. In case you do."

"Right. Thanks for that. So it's the Banshee that's the haint, I mean, the
ghost . . . like . . . . thing?"

"She's not a ghost. A spirit. And Angus says she may be there, but that
ain't really all it. There's something older. Older than us Mackeys. Older
than probably the Indians that used to be here. Real old. And strongest out
in Tucker Deep. You know, this is creepy again; let's just go."

They walked a bit farther and Frankie took to joking with Sean to divert
the heaviness of the previous conversation. Sean enjoyed walking with
Frankie. He was pretty cool to hang out with. He'd have to ask Holden what
he thought of Frankie.

"Hey Sean," Frankie sounding quite serious as they approached the Cormack
house.  "You need to be careful in the Mackey Lands, and I don't mean cause
of the mumbo jumbo stuff I was saying; that's still just all that, you
know. Mumbo jumbo. I mean cause of the real live Mackeys. And though it
shouldn't matter since you aren't a Mackey, maybe you should just stay away
for the next five weeks."

"Why? What happens in five weeks?"

"I can't say, but just trust me on one more thing. Don't come back until
AFTER the 15th of July. No, make that the 16th, just to be sure. Well, that
right through there is the back of the Cormack's house; you'll be safe from
here on. I should get back. Nice meeting you Sean. Be careful."

Sean looked back, but Frankie was already gone. It was weird. It was like
the forest had swallowed him whole. Sean walked out of the woods toward the
Cormack house, looking back one more time, though when he did, he realized
that he couldn't even see the trail anymore. He shivered and hurried on to
see if Michael was home.