Date: Wed, 3 Dec 2014 21:28:38 -0800
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Puget Posse  Chapter 55

Welcome back to the Posse. It is election time as well as baseball time
as the Posse finds itself busily involved in intrigue.

	Remember all of those disclaimers.

	Do write. thehakaanen@hotmail.com

	Please donate to Nifty.  Douglas


     CHAPTER 55
        	POLITICS

<Tuesday, May 14>

The Posse's new plan went into effect at lunch time. Suddenly,
Jeremiah had a shadow named Ellis. When Jeremiah started to tell
how the twins set him up, Ellis would show the envelope, saying
Jeremiah had put a picture in it. Ellis said he had sealed it. He told
them that Jeremiah had been blackmailing him.

"That's my handwriting on the envelope and Gregory can tell you it
was there when Jeremiah opened it up. It was to keep him from
making copies."

"What was the picture of?" one boy asked.

"It was of me in the shower. He snuck it on his phone," Ellis said. The
Posse had agreed to tone down the strategy and not bring up the
boner thing. Just the existence of a naked picture of him might be
enough to convince everyone that Jeremiah had something to hold
over Ellis.

"Ellis, you know that's a lie and that I can kick your ass any time I
want," Jeremiah said the first time Ellis spoke up. He quickly kept
quiet when he saw Misha and Will standing a few feet from him. It
was decided to give Jeremiah a different threat than having the twins
hanging around. After all, the twins were the ones being accused of
nefarious deeds, and it was better that they weren't seen.

"Where did the bullfrog pics come from?" another boy asked.

"Ellis probably switched pictures."

"How did I do that?" Ellis asked. "How did I get into your locker?"

"You probably did it somehow. How come you suddenly went against
me when I had the picture if you thought it was so bad?"

It was right then that Ellis realized he only had to go through this
procedure once. It was right then that everybody, including Jeremiah,
realized that Jeremiah had inserted his foot all the way into his
mouth. Operation Bullfrog was back with a vengeance. This time
Jeremiah had buried himself so deep that there was no way he could
dig out of it, even if he could prove the twins had somehow switched
the memory cards.

Jeremiah quickly ran off before anybody could see his tears of defeat.
He passed a trash can that was partially blocking his way and kicked
it hard, banging it against the wall and knocking its contents on the
floor. He wanted everybody to know he was the boss and that nothing
would stand in his way, even as he left the field in humiliation. He
quickly left the area before a staff member could stop him.

Alden, who had been hovering along the edge of the group, smiled to
himself. He had been right to abandon Jeremiah, who he now
realized was a stupid loser who could only bully people, but in the
end couldn't defeat them. He did gain a great deal of respect for the
twins and the Posse. They had played Jeremiah perfectly and
humbled him totally without ever laying a finger on him.

For weeks only he, Jeremiah, and Ellis had known the full story
behind the picture. But now, Ellis, and most likely the twins, also
knew the story. The one thing he didn't know was who switched the
picture and made the animation of Jeremiah's face on the bullfrog. It
was obviously the work of more than one person, and only the Posse
had the smarts and the guile to pull it off.

Still, even though Jeremiah had royally fucked things up, Alden
understood that in order for him to retain the kind of power he had he
would need to find a way to bring the Posse down. In order to do that,
he would need to be on the sixth grade council, which meant winning
the election for treasurer. Alden wanted to be at the top of the school
power structure by eighth grade. And in order to do that, he would
need to do what Jeremiah couldn't; he would need to find a way to
humiliate the twins and their Posse.


++++++++++++

The election campaigns started going full swing for all of the grades
but the eighth. By Friday, campaign signs had been posted and the
candidates were busily glad-handing the students in their grades.

Jeremiah knew his campaign was doomed and so did what was left
of his followers. He and Tony put up some campaign signs in the fifth
grade hall, east wall of the cafeteria, and in the fifth grade
classrooms, just like the rest of the candidates. But the signs showed
their lack of effort and artistic skill. Jeremiah had to take one of them
down after somebody drew a frog at the bottom of the sign. Jeremiah
was upset that Tony had procured the help of his sister for his
sergeant-at-arms campaign. Tony told him that his campaign was
more important than Jeremiah's. It had gotten to the point where even
one of Jeremiah's most loyal friends was hedging his bets.

The candidates would be giving their speeches on Monday and
Tuesday. Monday would be separate assemblies in the cafeteria for
each grade. Tuesday's assembly would be for grades five through
seven in the auditorium when the candidates for the full student
council would be speaking. Candidates would be visiting the home
rooms on Wednesday and Thursday and the election would be on
Friday.

Mark wasn't worried about Jeremiah as a candidate. He had read
about the Phoenix rising from its own ashes when they studied
mythology in class. He figured that unless Jeremiah was a Phoenix,
he was burned to a crisp as a candidate.

On Thursday morning, Mark, Matthew, and Patrick happened to run
into Mr. Vargas in the hall. Mark saw this as an opportunity.

"Hello, Mr. Vargas," Mark said, knowing the teacher eschewed the
"hey" greeting.

"Good morning, Mr. Kirkwood," Mr. Vargas replied. "How is the
campaigning going?"

"Pretty good...I mean, pretty well. I think I'll beat Jeremiah, but Vic is
going to be tough."

"I've noticed he's been very busy with his campaign."

"Mr. Jackson said you might like this," Mark said.

"Like what?"

"Knock knock."

"I do not enjoy the fifth grade humor associated with knock knock
jokes, and neither does Mr. Jackson."

"We know," Matthew added, "but Mr. J. told us that if we could get
you to listen to one of our knock knock jokes, he'd let us tell him one
on the last day of school, and we said that was cool and we'd do it."

"Oh, he did, did he? He sent you three to tell me a despised knock
knock joke, knowing I'd say no and he wouldn't have to deal with
receiving one himself." The teacher mulled that idea over for a few
moments, then gave the boys a sly smile. "You know, I think it's time
that Mr. Jackson learns that if he's going to teach fifth grade he must
deal with ten-year-old humor."

"Just like you have to deal with teenage humor, right?" Patrick asked.

"Yes, but as little as possible."

"Knock knock," Mark said again. He started a different joke than the
one he was going to tell Mr. Jackson. He didn't want Mr. Vargas to
give the joke away—actually jokes, but that was going to also be a
secret.

Mr. Vargas exhaled an audible sigh and said, "Who's there?"

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?" Mr. Vargas said with a slight hint of exasperation.

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock, knock."

"Mr. Kirkwood, would you kindly finish the joke."

"Just say `who's there', Mr. Vargas"

Mr. Vargas let out a feigned sigh of frustration. "Okay, who's there?"

"Banana," Mark said with a grin as he looked directly at the teacher.

Mr. Vargas gave a sigh of exasperation. "Banana who?"

"Knock, knock."

Knowing he had now fallen deep into the black hole of preteen
humor, Mr. Vargas asked, without a hint of humor," Who's there?"

"Orange."

"It's about time we got off of that loop. Okay, I bite, orange who?"

"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?" Mark and Matthew both broke
into uncontrolled giggles.

"Mr. Jackson owes me more than he could even imagine."

"I have a joke, Mr. Vargas," Patrick said with a big smile on his face.

"I've fulfilled my obligation to you boys."

"Yes, but I need to be the twins' backup."

The teacher all but rolled his eyes in adolescent fashion. "Patrick,
you've always struck me as being above the kinds of shenanigans
these two seem to enjoy," Mr. Vargas said, pointing to the giggling
twins.

"But see, if I tell you the joke you will remember me," Patrick said
sweetly.

"Patrick, I would remember you even without the joke."

"Will you remember me tomorrow?"

"Of course I would."

"Will you remember me next week?"

"Patrick, there is no way I would forget you."

Patrick went on as if Mr. Vargas hadn't said anything. "Will you
remember me next month?"

"Yes, Patrick. I will. Look, the bell is about to ring."

"Will you remember me next year?"

"After this little shtick, how could I forget?"

"Well, just to make sure, I'll give you something to remember...knock,
knock."

"Why do I have the feeling I've just stepped into something dirty and
smelly?" That comment got the twins to roaring with laughter as Mr.
Vargas accepted his fate with good humor. "Who's there?"

Patrick gave Mr. Vargas a sad look. "See, you forgot me already."

That got all three boys to laughing as they headed off to get to Mr.
Jackson's class before the morning bell, leaving Mr. Vargas shaking
his head. He knew it was moments like this that were one of the
many things that made teaching enjoyable, but he wasn't going to
confess that to the three boys who were among his favorite fifth
graders.

After school, Mr. Vargas and Mr. Jackson walked down the front
stairs. The students were long gone and, since it was Friday, there
were no intramurals.

Mr. Vargas looked back at the building as the two teachers trudged to
the faculty parking area. "You know, Parker, the old, haunted castle
seems to be playing its role to perfection this spring," he told Mr.
Jackson.

"In what way, Chuck?" Mr. Jackson replied.

"The fifth graders have produced more intrigue than the king's court
at a medieval castle."

"I assume you're referring specifically to the infamous Posse."

"Them along with Jeremiah and company. It would appear their
conniving has all but killed Jeremiah's aspirations for a second
presidential term."

Mr. Jackson chuckled. "Something about a frog, was it?"

"I've only heard bits and pieces about the affair, most of them from
Paul, their student guide, but it was something about a frog, a song,
and Jeremiah that apparently was quite humiliating for the boy. And,
if they used the song I am thinking about, I can see exactly how the
little connivers pulled it off. "

That caused the light bulb in Parker Jackson's brain to light up. "Of
course. Jeremiah, bullfrog from `Joy to the World' by..."

"...Three Dog Night," Chuck Vargas finished. "

"It would appear our friend Jeremiah isn't as tough as he makes
himself out to be."

"What do you think?" Mr. Vargas asked. "Is your Posse the junior
Machiavellis we made them out to be?"

"There is nothing sinister about them," Mr. Jackson replied. "But it is
my opinion that if they feel they've been wronged, they will take
action against their tormentor, in this case against Jeremiah. The
twins, as much as any of them, are not to be trifled with. And, they all
appear to be quite politically astute for their ages."

"Ah well, the trials and tribulations of teaching at a gifted school,"
Charles Vargas added with a mock sigh. "I have a feeling the Puget
Posse will bear a lot of watching over the next three years." Mr.
Jackson started to step into his car when Mr. Vargas gave him a
sinister grin. "Speaking of the Posse, be prepared on the last day of
school; you will be obligated to listen to your favorite kind of joke from
Mark and Patrick."

"Oh lord, you didn't actually listen to Mark's joke did you?"

"He made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Money?"

"Better yet—the opportunity to watch you squirm after setting me up,"
Charles Vargas laughed.

"Wait? Did you say Mark and Patrick?"

"I did."

"Damn. That little guy has been hanging around those twins way too
long," Parker Jackson chuckled.

"I just hope I'm in a position to see you suffer. Knock knock," Charles
Vargas said with a roar of laughter	as he walked to his car.

     <Saturday, May 18>

Mark and Matthew woke up early. They were overflowing with
excitement. Their baseball game was against the first place Orioles
and Jeremiah, Alden, and Coach Hunt. Matthew would be pitching. It
would be his first time pitching against the Orioles since he and Mark
had been kicked off of the team the season before, and he wanted to
show the entire team how good he was.

Their Thunderbirds team was 2-2 after winning their game on
Wednesday, 9-8 on a walk-off double by Mark in the bottom of the
sixth inning. The twins were realists and knew their team was
probably a middle of the pack kind of team while the Orioles were
looked upon as the best team in the league. They were 3-0 so far.

The game was slated to start at noon. The team was required to be at
the ballpark at eleven. It was all Scott and Kristy could do to keep a
lid on their raucous boys until they piled them into the SUV and left at
10:30 for the game.

While Mark was a talented pitcher, he much preferred catching, his
usual position, or playing third base, which he also did on occasion,
to pitching. Mark usually caught the games his brother pitched. The
twins had had a satisfying warm-up of oral sex the night before in
Matthew's bed, where Mark remained to sleep after their almost
mutual orgasm.

The Orioles were the home team on the scoreboard, so the T-Birds
batted first. The Orioles starting pitcher for the game was Logan. The
twins knew he was their ace. He was also a nice enough kid, who
tried as much as he could to avoid the turmoil swirling around the
team the summer before. He set the T-Birds down in order which
brought the Orioles up to bat.

Jeremiah was third in the batting order and Alden was in the five hole.
The first two hitters went out which brought Jeremiah up to bat. It was
all Matthew could do not to smirk when Jeremiah swung and missed
at two fastballs to quickly go into the hole oh-and-two.

Mark had dozens of snarky comments on the tip of his tongue, but
said nothing as he fired the ball back to Matthew. Just like his sense
of sportsmanship and fair play motivated him to discourage the Posse
from singing the Jeremiah bullfrog song, "Joy to the World", it also
kept him from talking trash to his nemesis. Watching Jeremiah carry
his bat back to the dugout after striking out would give him more than
enough satisfaction.

He had seen the determination on Jeremiah's face when he came up
to bat, but after the first two pitches the look changed to one of
frustration. Matthew had two pitches, his fastball and a changeup.
Mark called for changeup outside hoping to throw Jeremiah's timing
off. Matthew nodded and went to his wind-up.

Jeremiah was expecting Mark to try to blow another fastball by him
and was determined to hit it this time. Instead, he found himself
swinging early and wildly at a pitch six inches off the plate. He glared
at Matthew, turned and glared at Mark, whose grin was hidden by his
catcher's mask, and stomped back to the dugout.

In the top of the second, the Thunderbirds once again went down in
order. After getting the Orioles' cleanup hitter out, Matthew had to
face Alden. One of the strengths of the boys of the Puget Posse was
their ability to appraise other people. Alden was one of their few
failings. They saw Jeremiah as their primary threat. While they
considered Alden to be standoffish and a pain in the butt, they
assessed him as being a number two type of individual, not a leader.
In that respect, they severely underestimated their classmate, a
mistake they would pay for in the future.

Matthew threw Alden a ball and then watched as Alden hit the next
pitch into the gap between center and left, ending up on third with a
triple. He scored on a groundout and the Orioles took a 1-0 lead. That
score held up until the top of the fourth when Mark hit a double to left
and ended up scoring off of two Oriole errors, tying the score.

Jeremiah then came up as the leadoff man in the bottom of the
fourth. Matthew fell behind 2-0, then threw a called strike. Jeremiah
fouled off the next pitch to even the count. This time Jeremiah was
ready for an off-speed off of the plate as he watched Matthew send a
fastball down the middle of the plate for called strike three.

The league played six inning games—the players would play seven
inning games when they advanced to the next level. The T-Birds
scored two runs in the top of the fifth. The Orioles answered with one
in the bottom of the inning when Alden doubled and scored on a base
hit. The Thunderbirds led 3-2 going into the sixth, and picked up two
insurance runs in the top of the inning when Matthew slugged an
inside-the-park home run with a man on to give his team a 5-2 lead.

In the bottom of the inning Matthew gave up a run off of a walk and a
hit. Coach Winsley, the T-Bird coach, thought about changing
pitchers. His problem was that other than Matthew and Mark he was
short on pitchers. He could have Mark pitch and bring in his backup
catcher, but since there were two outs he decided to let Matthew face
one more batter since he was still under his maximum pitch count.

With the score 5-3 and a runner on second, Jeremiah came to the
plate, representing the tying run. Mark sauntered out to the mound to
talk to his brother.

"Hat trick," he said. A player earned a hat trick if he struck out three
times in a game.

"Roger that," Matthew answered. That was all the conversation the
twins needed. As often happened between them, a lot of the
communication was non-verbal.

For his part, Jeremiah was ready to be the hero of the game. He had
watched enough baseball in his young life to know that many players
looked bad their first few times at bat only to get a big clutch hit when
it was needed. This wasn't one of those times. He fouled off a high
fastball, took ball one, then watched a changeup drift over the plate
for a called strike.

Jeremiah was a good hitter, just like Matthew was a good pitcher.
Both boys sensed that the next pitch would be power against power.
Matthew toed the rubber and came to the set position. He took a
deep breath, looking for some extra energy. His brother's voice
calling for the hat trick echoed in his head. He threw his pitch knowing
unless he was really lucky, Jeremiah didn't stand a chance. It was his
best fastball of the game, on the outside corner at the top of the strike
zone. Jeremiah grunted, and swung right though the pitch with a
vicious hack—strike three, game over.

Jeremiah had been humiliated by the twins yet one more time. He
walked back to his dugout as the Thunderbirds celebrated their
victory behind him. He had played the worst game of his life, and it
was all the fault of the Kirkwood twins.

But his day wasn't finished. There would be a final word from the
twins. Even though it was unintentional, it would shame him one last
time.

Coach Hunt, Jeremiah's father, didn't say anything to his son as they
walked across the parking lot to their car, which suited Jeremiah just
fine. His father stopped to say something to his assistant who was
putting equipment into the back of his pickup. Jeremiah went to the
car on his own.

Mark and Matthew were putting their gear into the back of the family
SUV. They both had stripped off their uniform shirts and undershirts.
As they fished fresh t-shirts out of their bag Mark gave his brother a
big smile.

"There is no joy in Birdville for Mighty Bullfrog has struck out," Mark
said, mimicking "Casey at the Bat."

Neither twin noticed Jeremiah moving between cars two parking slots
away from them, but he was close enough to hear what Mark said.
He knew right then that he did not want to be in the same school as
the Kirkwood twins for another school year, and that he would have to
do something about it.

<Friday, May 24>

Friday was the last school day before the three day Memorial Day
weekend. It was also election day at the Puget Academy. The officers
for next year's grades six through eight would be elected as well as
the officers for the entire student body.

The twins had watched Jeremiah carefully, especially after what
happened on the bus Monday morning. When Jeremiah walked up
the aisle after boarding the bus, he glared at Patrick, Will, and the
twins.

"You guys all think you're so great. But you're fucking bullies with the
stupid bullfrog thing. You can stuff the frogs up your ass," he snarled.

"Jeremiah, sit your ass down," Mrs. Deaver yelled.

Jeremiah mouthed, "Fuck you, bitch." Fortunately for him, it was a
rare time Mrs. Deaver missed a piece of misbehavior.

"We never said nothing," Will protested. The twins and Patrick once
again took the high road, ignoring Jeremiah's tirade.

"Like nothing was said on Saturday," Jeremiah growled as he took his
seat next to Tony.

"What happened Saturday?" Will asked.

"Nothing, except for me giving him the hat trick in our baseball game,"
Matthew said. It never occurred to him and Mark that Jeremiah had
overheard Mark's bullfrog at the bat remark.

"Well, then maybe I should sing `Jeremiah was a bullfrog' just to give
him something real to be mad about," Will said teasingly

"Then he would be right, we'd be bullies just like he said," Mark
answered.

Will said nothing. He'd do what Mark asked for now, but as soon as
Jeremiah was out of earshot he would offer his objection. As much as
he liked the twins, he thought that sometimes they were simply too
full of themselves.

After the bus arrived at school, Will took the twins aside in the hall.
"Why are you protecting Jeremiah?" he asked.

"Nobody's protecting Jeremiah," Mark said.

"Yeah, nobody," Matthew agreed. "We don't like Jeremiah—he's an
asshole."

"So how come you don't want anybody singing the bullfrog song
when it was you two guys who got the whole thing started?"

"That's simple," Mark replied. "The pictures were to get revenge for
what he did to Ellis and what he did to me, and for being an asshole."

"Well, then I'm just doing more revenge if I keep singing him the
song," Will protested.

"Nope, if you keep doing it, then it's not getting revenge, it's being a
bully."

"Yeah," Matthew agreed again. "And me and Mark aren't bullies."

"Okay, I think I get it. But I don't like it," Will told them.

"Me either," Mark said. "I want to be a total bully to him. But, like
Mattie says, we're not bullies. He's going down in the election, and
that's all we want."

"Yep," Matthew concurred. "He's goes down in the election, we don't
need any songs or anything else. We got our revenge by making him
burnt toast."

The only potential problem regarding Jeremiah came up during his
speech to the fifth grade. The twins wondered if somebody would
interrupt Jeremiah by singing the song. The solution to the problem
came from an interesting source. Just after Jeremiah was introduced
a voice started to sing, "Jeremiah," but stopped suddenly. The voice
belonged to Randy, the arch-nerd, who wanted desperately to fit in,
but always managed to find a way to screw things up.

Randy was stopped when two hands squeezed him simultaneously,
one on each shoulder, hard. He turned around and saw that the hand
on his right belonged to Ellis.

 "That's not how we're going to do it," Ellis hissed. Randy turned the
other way and saw that the other hand belonged to Neville, who
nodded in agreement.

As a result, Jeremiah was able to give his speech uninterrupted. It
was a much better speech than the Posse had anticipated. Like the
dead bodies in horror movies, Jeremiah seemed to have a way of
popping out of his coffin, seemingly as alive as he'd ever been.

By the time Jeremiah finished his speech, Mark wished he had led
the entire fifth grade in the singing of "Joy to the World." After
Jeremiah took credit for the constitutional amendment giving the sixth
graders three more student senators as well as fighting for student
greeters for the fifth graders on the opening day of school, among
other policies Mark and the Posse had backed, Mark was ready to
run to the small stage in the cafeteria and hand Jeremiah a black eye
or two.

The order of the speakers had been drawn by lot, and Jeremiah had
drawn the first slot. Mark was next. Rather than look petty by claiming
Jeremiah's accomplishments for himself, he talked about how he
would work to improve student government and the school. Vic had
the third speech. He didn't mince any words as he left the planned
conclusion of his speech.

"If you want to say thank you for all of the good things that Jeremiah
told you about, then you need to talk to Mark. He was behind all of it."
Jeremiah glared as Vic finished his speech. Vic didn't care. As far as
he was concerned if he won the election he'd be happy and if Mark
won it he'd be happy, but if Jeremiah won, that would be wrong in so
many different ways. "Jeremiah had nothing to do with the
improvements. In fact he was against both of them."

As the candidates left the stage, Mark walked over to Vic. "You're
awesome, Vic. Thanks for saying what you said about Jeremiah."

"Our classmates need to know the truth," Vic said.

"You could end up losing the election because of what you said."

"It would be an honor to lose to you," the little Vietnamese boy
humbly admitted. The two exchanged fist bumps, but what Mark
really wanted to do was grab his friend and give him a gigantic hug.

And now, on Friday, the students filled out their ballots and dropped
them into their classroom's ballot box. The ballots would be counted
during second lunch by the eighth grade president, the student body
president, and Mr. Vargas.  The winners would be announced before
school let out for the day.

Everybody was antsy by the time the winners were read fifteen
minutes before the dismissal bell. The students would only be told the
winners; the number of votes each candidate received would not be
revealed. The fifth grade winners were announced first by Dean
Blowers.

"The winner for sixth grade secretary is Misha Larson." Mr. Jackson's
class cheered loudly, with the members of the Posse cheering the
loudest. The boys were all reminded that they would soon be sixth
graders. Misha had easily outpolled Bryce, his opponent, 49-19.

Dean Blowers, unable to hear the noise in the classroom, went on.
"The fifth grade treasurer will be Alden Egan." While Alden's election
wasn't a surprise, the members of the Posse had voted for Julio.
They, along with Alden and Julio, would have been surprised at the
closeness of the vote. Alden won by a vote of 38-30.

There were many who connected Alden with Jeremiah, but Alden had
successfully convinced a lot of the fifth graders that he was as much
a victim of Jeremiah's deceptions as many of them were. The Posse
was partly convinced by Alden's position, but not enough to vote for
him. On the other hand, he did give them the impression that maybe
he wasn't as malicious as they had thought—that he really had been
duped by Jeremiah. Alden's earlier screaming fit managed to help
Alden's cause.

"The sergeant-at-arms will be Matthew Kirkwood." This elicited
another cheer from Mr. Jackson's class. Matthew had defeated Tony,
who made no bones about being Jeremiah's friend until it was too
late to change course. Besides, the Kirkwood twins were well-known
and popular. Matthew won handily, 55-13.

Dean Blowers droned on. "The vice-president of grade six will be
Patrick Gardner". Patrick had run against Neville, which created some
hard feelings. Mark was unhappy with Neville for running against
Patrick.  Patrick's ebullience, plus his having served a year as vice-
president, trumped Neville's more reticent personality. Patrick also
won handily, 51-17.

"I will not be able to announce the next year's sixth grade president,
however." Dean Blowers said. That brought a groan from the class,
but they quickly quieted in order to hear the rest of the
announcement. "None of the three candidates was able procure a
majority of the votes. As a result, we will have a run-off election
between Vic Nguyen and Mark Kirkwood next Wednesday."

That elicited another cheer from Mr. Jackson's class; Jeremiah had
been defeated. The runoff would be between two popular members of
their class. What nobody knew was how badly Jeremiah had been
defeated. The vote was 33 for Vic, 32 for Mark, and 3 for Jeremiah.

Mark went over to Vic's desk and high-fived him. Mr. Jackson's telling
Mark to get back to his own desk made the trip a quick one. Patrick
and Misha, among others, didn't fail to notice Mr. Jackson's slow
reaction time to Mark's crossing the room; it was obvious he wanted
to see the interplay between the two candidates.

The bus ride home after school gave Mark, Matthew, Patrick, and Will
something to talk about. They were ready for Jeremiah to be in a foul
mood and they were ready for him to blame his defeat on the Posse.
What they didn't expect was for him to grouse about Alden as well.

"He's been dissing me ever since that phony video," he griped to
nobody in particular. "I bet he changed enough votes for me to lose."
Of course, Jeremiah had no idea just how badly he actually lost. If not
for the votes of Tony, Cameron, and himself, there would have been
a winner between Vic and Mark.

As Jeremiah kept grousing, Steve a seventh grader in the back seat
took his hand off of his hard cock long enough to yell out, "Jeremiah,
you're pissing me off. Nobody in his right mind would want to vote for
you, so you know you probably got your ass kicked. Now shut up so I
can finish taking care of business."

The back of the bus roared, Jeremiah fumed and Mark, Matthew,
Will, and Patrick all but buried their heads in their laps so Jeremiah
and Tony couldn't see how hard they were laughing. It was all Mrs.
Deaver could do to keep the bus on the road. Tony had to turn away
from Jeremiah in order to hide the smirk on his face.

++++++++++++

The Posse and its deputies did nothing together as a group over
Memorial Day weekend. It was not because there was bad blood
between any of them. It was more because of parents having plans
that didn't include the Posse members socializing. Plus, the twins had
issued two invitations to their fellow Posse members. One was for a
special Posse overnight party at their place after school let out for the
last day. The other was an invitation to their half-birthday party at the
end of June.

For the twins, Saturday and Sunday was spent playing in a baseball
tournament in Olympia. It was there they met the Corcoran
twins, who were playing for the Mayfield team. Both sets of twins
were excited to meet another set of baseball playing twins. Mark liked
it that Kevin was a catcher just like he was. Matthew wondered why
neither of the Corcoran twins pitched.

Their teams met in their second game in the tournament, with the
Thunderbirds outclassing Mayfield by an 11-1 score in a game
shortened by the ten-run mercy rule. The Mayfield team wasn't a bad
team—the Thunderbirds were simply much more talented than they
were and played at the top of their game. The T-Birds ended up
finishing third in the tournament.

Monday had two things going for it as far as Mark and Matthew were
concerned. First, it was nudist day. Second, their father had the pool
cleaned, heated, refilled, and ready to go. That meant skinny dipping.
It was agreed by parental fiat that opening day of the pool would be a
family affair; after that both sets of twins as well as Scott and Kristy
could invite guests.

Michelle and Megan were so happy to be able to swim, they didn't
complain about the twin Things being naked; they were just as bare
and didn't seem to think anything of it. For their part, neither did the
Things, or at least that was what they pretended.  In fact they were
fascinated by their sister's nudity. They'd seen their sisters naked
many times, sometimes in sexually charged situations. They had
seen other girls, like Cindy and Staci, naked as well. But, the female
body never ceased to intrigue them—nor did the male body, for that
matter.

"You're getting hair down there," Matthew observed not long after
they entered the pool area. Both girls had a few wisps of very fine
dark hair starting in their pubic region.

"So?" Michelle said. "It just means we're growing up." She ran her
finger along his bare pubic area, sending a shiver through him. "And it
is obvious that you two are not."

"We shoot cum," Mark reminded her.

"And we get our periods," Megan countered. "But pubic hair means
we're becoming adults."

"I've never seen a girl with pubic hair before."

"You've never even seen any naked girls other than Megan and me,"
Michelle huffed.

"Plus Staci and Cindy," Mark bragged.

"You never told us about them."

"Well, now we have." Mark jumped into the pool with Michelle close
behind. "And we've seen some of your friends almost naked, or did
you forget about that?"

The twin sisters shrugged as if it didn't matter.

"Remember", he told her as they floated next to each other while
holding on to the edge of the pool deck, "you owe me and Mattie blow
jobs for our half-birthday."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Too bad we shoot and you bleed," Mark said, "or we could do even
more."

"Mark Kirkwood, you are really beyond gross. If you want to be like
that you can forget your blow jobs."

It was obvious that Michelle and Megan meant to hold Mark and
Matthew hostage to the promised blow jobs. Mark resented that
immensely. He decided he and Matthew would need to find a way to
get back at their sisters.

Because their parents were home, there was a minimum of sexual
talk and even less sexual play, other than some quick gropes
underwater. The boys ended up groping each other more than they
did their sisters, but overall the girls were in a good mood and were
willing to trade a few good-natured feels with their brothers.

++++++++++++

Patrick and Misha were two Posse members who spent a night with
each other. Their time together started Saturday morning when Brian
and Patrick picked Misha up at his house. They went out for breakfast
at IHOP and Misha eagerly scarfed down his breakfast of eggs,
bacon, and pancakes.

"You eat like nobody feeds you at home," Brian remarked.

"They do not have pancakes like this in Russia," Misha said between
bites.

"What about your mother? Doesn't she make pancakes?"

"Her pancakes are very good. But these pancakes are the very most
awesome pancakes."

While Patrick had not yet incurred the burgeoning young adolescent
appetite of his friend, the way he was stuffing his pancakes into his
mouth indicated he was in full agreement with Misha's analysis.

After breakfast they drove to Seattle and wandered along the
waterfront until they arrived at Safeco Field for the Mariners'
afternoon game against the Kansas City Royals.

Misha and Patrick were both decked out in Mariner t-shirts and hats.
They would be attending a Sunday game with their teams later in the
season as part of a youth baseball day promotion and would be
wearing their team uniforms for that. Of course hot dogs and garlic
fries along with ice cold lemonade were in order. The Mariners made
the outing a perfect one with a 5-3 win.

Maxine understood how much food the boys would be stuffing into
their gullets during the day and prepared a light dinner when Brian
brought them home. She had forgotten what a growing eleven-year-
old can pack away, however, and had to give Misha a quick refill of
soup.

That night, the two friends said their goodnights to the adults, stripped
naked, and lay together in Patrick's bed. They were a combination of
tired and horny, with their naked bodies touching making them even
hornier.

"Are we going to mess around?" Patrick asked.

"If I can stay awake we will," Misha replied quietly as he rubbed
Patrick's smooth chest with his left hand.

"Are we going to suck each other?"

"Why are you asking me all of the questions? I am not the boss."

"Because you're older than me."

Misha hugged Patrick tightly. His experiences at the orphanage had
made him wise beyond his years. "That does not mean a thing. We
are boyfriends and that is all that counts," he said softly. Patrick broke
out into his trademark grin, which Misha could see, even in the
darkened room. "I will never be your bed master," Misha finished.

"But Nikki was your bed master because he was older than you and
you are older than me."

"That was at the orphanage. This is here with us. It is not the same
thing."

Patrick thought he understood and nodded. At the orphanage the
boys weren't equals. Even Misha and Nikki weren't true equals. Age
meant everything and even two boys who shared the feelings that the
two of them felt couldn't completely shuck off the traditions of the
orphanage.

"Do you think we should do it?" Misha asked.

"You mean suck each other?"

"Yes."

Before Patrick could answer, there was a knock at the door. "Dad has
the worst timing," Patrick muttered. "Come in, dad."

Brian came into the room, not surprised by the two boys in bed
together. After all, Misha hadn't brought any kind of bedding with him.
Nor was he surprised by the bare shoulders showing above the
blankets.

"I just wanted to give you two a good-night hug and kiss," Brian told
them.

"We said good-night already," Patrick protested, remembering how
his dad's good-night had all but chased Ian out of his bed a few
months ago.

"I don't recall a hug."

"You can kiss us, but no hug," Patrick said, not wanting his father to
know the two of them were totally naked.

"Fair enough since you're both already tucked into bed." He gave
Patrick and Misha each a kiss on their forehead and left the room.
"Sleep tight," he told them as he closed the door.

Unlike Ian, Misha didn't freak out or leave the bed. "Your father is
very nice," he said. "And now you can tell me what you think."

"I think I don't want to do sucking tonight."

"That is how I wish it."

Their hands had found each other's little boners as they talked. The
talk ended, but the hands became more active. Their horniness
trumped their tiredness. Patrick pulled the bedding off of them to give
them more freedom.

Misha rolled over on top of Patrick and started grinding his cock into
his friend's hard little piece of steel. They didn't stay in that position
for long, as they turned once again, so that they were side-by-side.
Patrick placed his lips against Misha's and the boys kissed hard and
passionately, quickly trading tongue. They had been here before and
knew what they wanted from each other.

Misha pushed hard against Patrick, humping his cocklet. Patrick
pushed hard back. They grunted and squeaked, their boyish voices
advertising their sexual arousal. The bed jumped as they dry humped
and kissed in a frenzy. Misha came first, once again rolling on top of
Patrick so he could rub his dick hard against the smooth, damp skin
of his boyfriend. His dry cum shook him hard, which shook Patrick
and led him close to orgasm.

Patrick's climax happened as Misha rolled off of him, trying to gather
himself. Patrick rubbed against Misha's left leg. Misha grabbed
Patrick's ass and pulled the ten-year-old tighter to him. Patrick
pushed hard, humped the leg, and shivered with his own young boy
orgasm.

Breathing hard the boys lay on their backs, barely touching each
other. "I love you, Patrick," Misha said. He'd said that to Nikki, but for
some reason saying the same thing to Patrick seemed to mean a lot
more.

"I love you, too, Misha." The boys cuddled their naked bodies
together and were soon asleep. Being tired trumped all.

++++++++++++

Ellis was excited to have Neville spending the night at his house for
the first time. He would never have invited Neville over if his father
hadn't been home. There was no way he would leave his friend in the
clutches of his mother.

He had just finished his Saturday breakfast. After showering, he
painted his toenails a dark blue. He didn't know how his somewhat
dour friend would react to them, but decided that if Neville objected
maybe Neville wasn't as a good of a friend as he thought.

He and his father picked Neville up at his house. "Nice place," Ellis's
father observed as Neville came out of the front door, carrying his
overnight bag.

"Dad, it's not like we live in a slum." Gordon and his family lived in a
nice upper-middle class development, but it was nowhere near the
class of the home Neville lived in. "They get points for the view,
though," Ellis conceded, although he didn't say whether he meant the
view of the Olympics or the view of Neville.

The boys spent the day with Gordon at the Seattle Center, where
they especially enjoyed the Pacific Science Center. They went down
to the waterfront afterwards to eat at Ivar's, but didn't run into Patrick
and Misha who were already at the baseball game.

Gordon was fascinated by Neville's background. "I have spent a great
deal of time in England on my job," he told Neville. Neville found
himself really liking Ellis's father, who expressed a great deal of
fondness for his native country. They'd both been to some of the
same places, which had Neville both pleased and proud.

"What was your father's name again," Gordon asked.

"Reginald St. Aubin-Jones."

	"The advertising executive?"

Neville nodded.

"Then I know your father. My company does all of their advertising
through your dad's company."

Ellis was particularly pleased that Neville and his father were hitting it
off. He wanted his father to like his friends. He had two more reasons
for being happy. For one, his father's presence caused his mother to
act almost like a normal mom. She didn't flutter around Neville the
way she had around Barry.

But the biggest reason for his happiness was the news his father had
given them while they ate at Ivar's. "I probably should discuss this
with you in private and I will if you insist. But I have big news about
my job."

"Is it good news?" Ellis asked with a bit of trepidation. Whenever his
father had news about his job, the news was never really good.

"It is a combination of good news and better news, I think."

"Then I don't care if Neville hears it as long as Neville doesn't mind."

"It's okay with me," Neville said.

"I just don't want to end up crying because it means you're going
away again," Ellis murmured.

"I think if you cry it will be from being happy," Gordon said. "Besides, I
am even giving you a bit of a say in this." He took a deep breath and
went on. "Because of a couple of retirements I have been offered my
choice of two promotions. One would mean virtually no traveling—
maybe a couple of weeks a year. The other would mean a one, three,
or four day trip every other month."

"Take the first one," Ellis said, a wide grin splitting his face.

"That would mean us moving to Tulsa, Oklahoma. The second choice
would have us staying here."

Ellis looked at Neville, as if his friend had all of the answers. Neville
simply shrugged. He didn't want Ellis to move; he'd finally found a
good friend. As weird as Ellis could be, Neville felt strong tugs of
friendship with the smaller boy. But he also didn't want to get involved
in the family decision.

"All my friends are here, especially Neville," Ellis explained. "I'm used
to you being gone for a long time. A couple of days would be like
you're still home. Take the one here."

"I thought you'd say that," Gordon said. "I'll give them my decision on
Monday."

Ellis noticed the smile on Neville's normally impassive face. He was
even happier because Neville seemed to like the decision.

It was well after nine in the evening when the boys retired to Ellis's
bedroom. "Were you serious about not wanting to move because I'm
your friend?" Neville asked.

"Yep."

"You're the best friend I've had since I left England." He looked down
at Ellis's feet. "Even if your toes are blue."

"Do you like them?"

"No, but I know you do, and I like you, so I guess your toes are okay."

Ellis wasn't completely sure what Neville's answer meant, but he
thought that it meant Neville had just accepted what he did, even if he
didn't like it.

"Are we sleeping naked?" Neville asked. Ellis nodded and both boys
pulled off their underpants, sporting hairless pubescent boners. They
wordlessly crawled into Ellis's bed.

"I'm sorry you lost your election," Ellis said.

"Patrick is popular. Plus he is our friend. Maybe I should have run
against Alden, since we're both not real popular."

"Lots of people like you," Ellis commented admiringly. "A lot more
people like you than like Alden. You would have beat him easy."

"Do you like Alden?"

Ellis thought of his night at Alden's house, and of Alden taking his
picture and keeping it and of all the trouble it caused. But, once again
he wondered if Alden did all of that because Jeremiah made him.
"Not really. I don't hate him either." Although maybe I should, Ellis
thought to himself.

"I'm the only person on the Posse who didn't win an election."

"Somebody on the Posse had to lose between you and Patrick. And
Mark hasn't won his election yet. Vic's pretty good."

"Vic's speech really helped Mark. Everybody was talking about it."

"I don't care if you won or not. We'll both be able to help our class
even if we didn't win."

"I suppose we can." Neville didn't sound convinced.

The boys lay quietly, the light still on. They were thinking sexual
thoughts, wondering if there was going to be more to the evening that
chatting and sleeping. They were enjoying the sensations of their
naked bodies touching. Ellis knew that Neville could be shy about
sexual things. Ellis, on the other hand was a very sexual boy even at
age ten. Ellis liked it that Neville wanted to be friends with him. His
experiences with Barry caused him to equate friendship with sex.
Neville, on the other hand, felt two boys could be friends without sex,
although his experiences with other boys since leaving England had
been more sexual in nature.

"Do you want to mess around before we go to sleep?" Ellis asked.

"Why is it everybody is always thinking about sex?" Neville
responded.

"Because it's fun." Ellis placed his hand on Neville's crotch, pleased
that despite his protestations, Neville was hard.

"You sound like my brother."

"I've done everything he has. I bet I've even done more."

Neville's hand found Ellis' two-and-a-half inch piece of boy steel and
started rubbing it. "I don't care," he whispered. "I just want to have a
best friend."

"Me, too," Ellis said quietly, rubbing Neville's three-inch uncut piece of
boy flesh and fingering his tight, smooth ball sac. "But we can still do
this...." He let go of Neville's package and pulled back the covers,
placing his lips around his friend's hard on as he scooted down the
bed. The purple head pushed through Neville's foreskin and Ellis
licked Neville's glans, savoring the aroma and the warmth of Neville's
groin.

Neville moaned with pleasure. I don't want to do this, he said to
himself, while at the same time he knew the moment he accepted
Ellis's invitation that sex would be a part of the equation. Neville kept
his hand on Ellis's circumcised erection, but all of his focus was now
on his own pleasure as Ellis used his experienced mouth to give
Neville the best sensations possible. Ellis liked this better than what
he had been doing with Barry and his friends, because he knew
Neville placed friendship first. He knew that even if he didn't have any
sex with him, that Neville would still want to be his friend.

Ellis wanted to finger Neville's ass. He wanted to rim it, the way
Barry, Thomas, and Frank had shown him. He wanted to kiss Neville,
to battle his tongue, just like he'd done with the older boys. He
wanted Neville to fuck him. But his instincts said this was all Neville
wanted that night and he expertly sucked Neville to a climax that
shook the bed and caused the eleven-year-old's body to tremble.

"That was so ace," Neville whispered.

Knowing Neville as he did, Ellis figured that was the end of their
sexual session and he wasn't surprised when Neville removed his
hand from his cock and balls.

What did surprise him was Neville going down on him. Neville was
raw, and clumsy, and new, and what he did was extremely sexy. Ellis
couldn't hold out, his dry orgasm causing his cock to spasm inside of
Neville's mouth.

Neville raised his head, a trail of spit connecting his mouth to Ellis's
still hard cocklet. "Did I do a good job?" he asked.

"You were awesome," Ellis enthused. "I never thought you'd do that
to me after you came."

Ellis stared at Neville's sweet grin. He'd never seen his friend smile
like that; as far as he was concerned he was looking at the most
beautiful smile in the world. The boy crushes that Ellis and Neville
had for each other were complete.

"I had to do it," Neville said. "It is part of being friends."

"Just being friends is more important."

"Yes, being friends is more important," Neville concluded, pleased
that Ellis felt that way. To Neville those feelings put him and Ellis on a
higher plane than Dylan and Evan.

The boys fell asleep in each other's arms, overcome by feelings of
happiness and contentment.

Next: Winding Down