High Iron 11
High Iron
*Chapter 11*
Hell on Pontchartrain
Bo and Blackbeard continued to fight the high winds and rain as they closed every shutter on every window they came to as they worked their way to the bow of the WATER WITCH. They stopped halfway down the portside of the steamer and ducked into an empty cabin to rest and dry off some.
"Boss, I have lived in Orleans Parish all of my life and I know one thing, April is not Hurricane Season!" Bo said as he shivered.
"First off Bo, I am not O'Neal so it is Capt'n not boss. Number two if this old boy survives this storm it is time we fixed him back up. Number three no it is not hurricane season but this is one hell of a spring storm not to call it a fuckin' hurricane." Kette said as he looked around the unused cabin.
Ever since the drop in business a lot of the officer's cabins were no longer needed or used. They were covered in dust and mildew. Also, many of the lower staterooms had been stripped of their furnishings, so most of the deckhands used them instead of sleeping on deck. One or two were still fixed up for the occasional paying passenger, but most now held bunks for the crew ever since the Railroads did away with people relying on steamers to go places. Hell, he couldn't blame them. His own brother was an engineer on the New Orleans, Texas and Pacific line to Houston. The pay was good, so were the other benefits of the trade. Poppa Kette wasn't very happy at his younger boy's choice, Abandoning the River for the Iron Road, but there wasn't much he could do about it.
By that time, Poppa Kette was on up in age and all the campaigns in the saddle with General Joe Wheeler were coming back to haunt him in his old age. So was the service he gave back to the Union during the war with Spain in 1898, serving on board the USS MISSISSIPPI as they bombarded Havana and destroyed the Spanish fleet at anchor. Poppa Kette was after all 85 years old now and enjoying the golden years of his life in a fine house in the French Quarter. Richard Kette smiled as he thought back to 1898 when he was 16 serving with his dad as a gunner on the USS MISSISSIPPI, his poppa had lied and got him onboard for one of his first real adventures. The sea grew on him and when the war was over he came back to the River and now the lake.
"com'n Bo let's get the rest of these windows closed and get to the pilothouse I am quite sure those two boys can use our help."
"Aye Capt'n" Bo said as he rebuttoned the rubber rain jacket and grabbed his cap from the dusty table. They left the dry cabin, once more fighting the howling winds of the storm. They finally made it to the pilothouse and climbed the short steps. When Kette yanked the door open they were greeted by a blast of warm air from the pot bellied stove.
"Welcome Capt'n." The pilots greeted as they both held onto the large wheel easing it side to side as the steamer pushed through the choppy waves.
"Pete, Matt," This here is Bo I hired him tonight from Scotland O'Neal." Capt'n Kette spoke as he reached for two ironware mugs and the coffee pot.
"Ahh, you're the one we saw on the roof of the hurricane deck shouting " 'Free At Last' like an Irish Banshee!" The men smiled as Bo nodded his head. "So Bo what are you free from?" Pete asked as he turned the big wheel to port.
"Free from that bastard Scotland O'Neal the third. Free to love again as a man should be able to. Happy that a small boy I was forced to bring here is among family and happiest that I haven't puked like a greenhorn on this here steamer YET!"
Everyone nodded then broke out into laughter on the last comment.
**Jack leaned over and stoked the small pot bellied stove that warmed his cabin while Ryan rubbed his body dry with the towel. Jack still had on his thin cotton jockeys, which thanks to the rain were transparent, hiding nothing. He stood back up to catch Ryan's eyes watching his butt and he smiled at the kid who had the towel around his waist trying to hide his own wet transparent underwear. "Ok Ryan, my turn with the towel since your through with it." Jack reached over and grabbed the towel pulling it away from Ryan's small frame.
"Hey I wasn't finished yet." Ryan cried as he dropped his hands to his waist to cover his hard on.
"Yes you were, now take off that pair of wet underwear if you think you're going to sleep with me in my bunk tonight young man."
"Aww, Jack I don't have anything else to put on."
"Hmm, let me finish and I'll figure something out." Jack said as he slipped out of his own wet jockeys. "Is my ass still red little one?"
"Yeah it is, Ryan tried not to giggle, but he couldn't help it, as he stared at the two pale cheeks that still glowed a light red from the spanking Blackbeard had given them along with Ryan's help.
"Well I should let you sleep with O'Neal for spanking my ass. Then I wouldn't have to worry about you sleeping in wet jockeys or not." Jack smiled as he said it but saw the green eyes begin to light up with an evil fire. "Hey chill the dead lights boy I was joking." Jack walked and hung the towel back on the peg, then over to Ryan as the boy continued to stare at him and his shriveled cock that was still cold from the drenching rain.
Jack sat down on the edge of the bunk pulling Ryan into his arms and hugged the boy. "I was only joking little one about sleeping with the Devil but not about these here wet jockey shorts". He rubbed Ryan's firm buttocks through the damp cotton and the boy sighed. "Feels good don't it?" Ryan nodded and relaxed some more in Jack's arms as he continued to rub Ryan's buttocks and inner thighs putting some warmth back into the chilled skin. Jack reached up and gripped the band and slowly began to pull them down. Ryan tensed up, then relaxed as they passed his locked knees and fell in a bundle at the floor. "Step out of them lil one and go hang them to dry with the rest of the wet clothes then return to me." Jack said as he lay back on the bunk watching the cute eleven year old butt bounce as the boy walked over to the stove and hung his jockey's with rest of Jack's clothes. Ryan stood by the stove for a few moments letting it's warmth warm his thin body before walking back across the small cabin to the bunk where Jack was propped against the wall eyes slightly closed.
"Now what am I supposed to wear to sleep in?" Ryan asked as he gazed down at Jack's hairless body from his chest down to his tummy and followed the light trail of black hair that led from his belly button down to his half limp cock.
Jack looked up and smiled at the naked boy in front of his tired hazel eyes. "Well I usually sleep as God made me and old lady Maude DeBerry has most of my clothes, she's the wash lady up on the North end of the lake by the railroad bridge. I don't have much to offer you at the moment. So come here." Ryan walked closer until his knees bumped into the edge of the bunk. He felt Jack's Strong arms pick his bare feet off the floor and into his arms holding him close as Jack swung around in the bunk and lay him down on top of his smooth chest. Ryan felt the warmth of the smooth skin as Jack held him close. "Now my lil one sleep well, sleep in peace, I will protect you." Jack leaned up and pulled the heavy cotton blanket over both of them.
"What about the light?" Ryan whispered as he snuggled close to the warm smooth skin and the beating heart that was close to his own.
"We'll leave it on for Bo, remember he got to share this narrow bunk too my lil one." Jack hugged Ryan as he slipped his hands under the blanket resting them on Ryan's lower back right above his butt. Ryan sighed letting his body completely relax as Jack's body heat warmed his own under the blanket. Soon relaxation turned to embarrassment as Ryan felt his boyhood began to respond to the heat and the manly odors that filled his young nose. He tried to think about other things but it was of little hope, the dulled pain from his wrists and ankles were no longer a distraction nor was the chill thanks to Jack's warm blood and the coal fire in the stove.
Jack knew of Ryan's problem and it wasn't helping his own as the hairless boy moved slightly trying not to reveal his embarrassment to the older teen. Jack lay there and smiled thinking back ten long years to when he was eight years old and had been bought by Blackbeard from a river pirate and swindler for ten double eagles and a keg of Kentucky's finest rot gut whiskey. Blackbeard had argued that was to much for a scrawny black haired kid. Jack wondered if Blackbeard still thought that now. Ryan moved again slightly and Jack got an idea, so he gripped Ryan's hips pulling him down tightly against his own body feeling the small hard cock poke his belly. Jack knew that Ryan's cheeks were now on fire as he tired to lift himself up. "Now, now Ryan lay still." Jack whispered into Ryan's ear which was only inches from his mouth.
"But, Jack I got a woody."
"So your horny, big deal, every boy does that, hell, your cute little ass got me horny to."
"I am not cute and I don't think I have anything to do with this horny business whatever it means." Ryan said as he lifted himself up a few inches to rest on his elbows on either side of Jack's arm pits.
"This is what I mean by horny." Jack reached up and gripped Ryan's four inches of hard boy meat in is right hand and stroked it. Ryan let out a sigh and almost collapsed back on top of Jack. "HEHE.. lil one didn't know that is what horny means?"
Ryan blushed, "now I do and that actually felt good." He slid his small body against Jack's enjoying the feeling of skin upon skin then he stopped. "Sorry, I was getting excited."
"Aww lil one it's ok that your excited, it is a good thing considering the hell you just went through in the last 12 or so hours and you have gotten me excited even." Jack smiled up at Ryan to make sure the boy knew it was ok to have a hard on. He reached down under Ryan and gripped his own hard cock and slowly stroked it then grabbed one of Ryan's hands and placed it on his hard cock. He heard Ryan gasp as his small thin fingers wrapped around the hard shaft.
"It's big Jack, a lot bigger than mine." Ryan whispered as he continued to rub his hand along Jack's long thin shaft of heated flesh.
"Don't worry lil one yours is still growing and with the proper exercises it will get bigger." Jack said as he continued to rub Ryan's hard little cock and lower stomach feeling the smooth white skin that was devoid of hair.
"What's proper exercises?" Ryan asked, still rubbing his fingers over Jack's cockhead feeling it gently.
"Well, lil one what your doing now is warm ups for it..."
"Capt'n we may make it to Manchac, if the old boy will hold together that long." Pete said as he turned the big wheel his eyes straining to look through the glass of the pilothouse for any landmarks to help guide him and Matt in their Northwestern course towards the village of Manchac and the steel lift bridge of the Illinois Central Railroad. The lake crossing usually took no more than four hours max on a clear day but tonight did not fall under favorable conditions. Bo and Blackbeard took seats in the pilothouse's high chairs and sipped their steaming bitter coffee. Straining their own tired eyes looking for any sign of danger below the shallow waves of the lake as the howling winds rattling the thick glass and lightning flashed arching across the dark skies above. The whole steamboat shuddered every time the bow crashed through a wave, such a boat was not built for such waters or high winds. "Keep her on course Pete North by Northwest, I think Southern oak and pine will hold to this test." Blackbeard said as he pulled his London made pipe from his breast pocket and filled it with Kentucky Tobacco and packed it, then offered the pouch to Bo.
"Thank you Capt'n" Bo said as he accepted the worn leather pouch full of the moist tobacco and filled his corn cob pipe.
"I sure in bloody hell hope so Capt'n, for tonight is one night I do not care to go for a swim in the lake." Matt said as he gripped the right side of the wheel to help Pete keep a steady course.
"Boys, tonight is one night, no one wants to go for a swim in the lake, unless Bo or Ryan wants to help Scotland O'Neal into his swimming trunks." Blackbeard laughed long and deep as he struck the sulfur match against the stove and brought the lit match up to his pipe and sucked the flame into the bowl lighting the tobacco before passing the still lit match to Bo.
"Well Capt'n I sure wouldn't mind doing it one bit, but I just got dry again." Bo said as he puffed on his pipe drawing the rich smoke into his lungs.
"Capt'n permission to waste a lil bit of steam?" Pete asked with a shit eating grin on his face.
"What dear Pete do you want to waste our precious steam for?" Blackbeard asked eying the man.
"Well Capt'n Sir, I figured since we can't drown a certain Gar fish tied to a certain steam pipe above the heads, umm.. we would just broil him a little bit." Pete said eying Blackbeard, watching the grin form across his bearded face.
"Ahh, I think our engineer can spare a few pounds of steam to bake a rotten fish. Pete call down to the boiler deck and see if Mr. Andrews can vent some steam up the exhaust vents. I am sure the boilers would like to suck in some fresh lake water.
O'Neal awoke, dazed and confused as to where he was at. He tried to move and found he couldn't, his eyes squinted in the darkness and saw that someone had bound his hands to the pipe above his head. His whole body ached, especially his swollen nuts which felt as if a baseball bat had been driven into them with inhuman force. Sweat dripped off his forehead as he heard a faint hissing sound that began to grow louder "bloody hell" he croaked "They're venting steam." He felt the heat from the pipe and heard the hissing in his ears as more sweat trickled down his forehead into the cuts and other wounds. He wanted to scream, but screaming showed weakness and Scotland O'Neal wasn't weak. He bit down on his tongue to silence all thoughts of giving in. He busied his mind on one other thing as he smiled into the darkness "Revenge, sweet revenge a dish best served cold with a side of blackened evil heart." He laughed and laughed.
"I think that stirred up the fire a little under our gar fish Capt'n!" Pete said as he turned the big wheel. The men laughed and Bo smiled as he sat his empty tin mug on the wooden shelf by the stove.
"Gentlemen, with the captain's permission I am going to hit the bunk now." Bo said as he stood up and reached for the rubber rain slicker by the door.
"Of course Bo go get some rest, I'm sure that Jack and Ryan are wondering where you are at." Blackbeard winked.
"Goodnight gentlemen." Bo tipped his hat and walked out the door and pulled it shut. As he stepped away he heard Pete. "It'll be a good night the minute I dock this bitch safely." Bo pulled down his cloth cap and braced himself as he made his way to the stairs leading down to the Texas deck. The wind out of the North felt as if it was covered in daggers of ice as it hit his face and hands. "Damnation!" Bo screamed to himself when his right foot tried to slip on the slick deck as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs onto the hurricane deck roof. He crept to Jack's cabin and eased open the door and entered.
He fumbled around until he found the cord that dangled from the light bulb in the center of the cabin's ceiling. He pulled the cord and a faint yellow light lit the room. He looked around and to the bunk when soft breathing was heard. He saw the two lumps under the blankets, the smaller one on top of the other and let himself smile. Bo walked over to the small stove opening the door, then reached over and grabbed the small coal shovel. He shoveled up a load easing it through the door and spread the fresh coal over the glowing red ones, then quietly closed the door and hung up the shovel back on its peg. Bo smiled again as he looked down at the two sleeping forms and the soft breathing as he sat down in the chair by the small desk and switched on the lamp above it. Reaching for his corn cob pipe he refilled it with fresh Virginia tobacco and striking a sulfur match against the scarred oak desk brought it up to light the tobacco. His hand trembled as he shook out the flame, maybe it was exhaustion maybe it was something else. He leaned over pulling off his muddy boots and wet woolen socks to let his toes breathe and dry out, then started to unbutton his wet jacket and the shirt beneath it. Calmness enveloped him as he just sat there letting his tired fingers do their work as smoke rings drifted up to the yellowing ceiling.
His mind drifted back into powerful memories, some good, some sad and others so dark he wanted to let them continue to sleep undisturbed. He thought of the things he had endured under Scotland O' Neal, the sadistic bastard, now sweating his ass off tied to the steam pipe. Oh how he wanted to take a piece of iron pipe and ram it up his ass and fill it full of scalding steam roasting him from the inside out, such sweet victory. Bo slowly finished undressing and stood up as smoke rings drifted up from his pipe. His young smooth tanned chest glistened in the dim yellow electric light, a sorry replacement to the bronze kerosene lamps with their cut glass globes in the glory days of Steamboatin'.
Bo hung up his wet clothes with the rest, by the small pot bellied stove that radiated its welcome heat throughout the small cabin. He stood with his back to the stove warming his buttocks and back, as he stretched and slowly scratched his itching balls his uncut cock slowly began to warm and awaken. Bo caught himself humming a old bluegrass ballad "Skipping in the Mississippi Dew" "How lucky can one be?" He mused aloud as rain drops the size of nickels hammered against the cabin roof and walls and quarter sized hail splattered the decks.
He let out a sigh and wondered what if everything had gone according to plan? Just what would Scotland O'Neal have them doing now; hiding out in the alleys looking for more boy flesh to kidnap, drug and sell? Some he knew were sold to modern day slave traders, men who bought boys, then trained them for the sex trade. Others, not so lucky, were kidnapped, doped and sold to agents of the coal mines up North or out west. Bo always tried to mentally block all these things from his mind, whenever Lew and himself took the boys back to Scotland O'Neal's funeral parlor. He wanted no part in it, usually he found a way out of it as Scotland had a sadistic partner he called "BB" short for Ball Buster. If Scotland O' Neal was Satan's right hand man then BB made a fine left one.
BB was a tall white man, who stood just short of seven feet nothing, as he liked to say, with a shaven bald head that he kept polished to a rich mirror shine with whale oil when he could get it and bear grease when he couldn't. He had tried Kerosene once but didn't like the smell and it made his head itch like a sheet full of fleas. He and Scotland shared the same age almost to the day and they shared something else their love of tender boys. BB also loved virgin girls as well, but to him nothing was more fun then breaking in a virgin lad. He loved the fight and he loved to wear'em down slowly. Scotland enjoyed it as well, but only with the boys and he had never seen Scotland's two helpers break in a girl or boy. Both Lew and Bo always made excuses and would dash from the parlor to the local Tavern as soon as Scotland dismissed them.
BB often wondered how Lew had shaped up from the last time he had worked the boy over at 16. He had helped Scotland break him in the night he was purchased at the tender age of 12. BB was glad for once that Scotland O' Neal had decided to keep a boy. Lew was a street rat till nabbed by Scotland one night after he had fed the lad a nice drugged meal and offered the boy a chance to clean up. According to O' Neal the next thing Lew knew after his nice warm bath and drying off was him passing out naked then the fun and games began for the lad of 12.
BB loved many things in life all of them evil. From his late night fun with Scotland, to his fighting with brass knuckles in the local taverns and bars. He loved to bloody his opponent with the knuckles, then catching them off guard head butt them in the forehead. Usually the other man was dead by the time BB finished with them, leaving them laying on the plank floor. Cops didn't scare him. Little did in fact, other than water or the memories of his even blacker childhood growing up in the sugar cane land and swamps south of New Orleans near Houma.
BB was the offspring of a white Baptist preacher and a soiled Creole queen, his skin had traces of both the dark skinned French Creole and the lighter European French mix. BB's father named him Bernard Blanche Bojaxe and from the start his father called him BB for short. BB's childhood wasn't a happy one from the start his father preached the gospel on Sunday and drank and gambled the other six days of the week, using his own money and sometimes that of the church when he won he would give 10% back in tithes. His father was trapped in a vice of good verses evil and his wife and son caught the Evil, his half witted flock the praise and blessings.
Bo shivered just thinking of BB he was one man he didn't like upon first sight and after Bo learned what he had done to Lew at 12 and he saw it happen when Lew turned 16, because he had spent the rest of the night with Lew in their shared room nursing Lew's wounds from his bleeding behind to his swollen nuts and battered face. Bo was brought back to the present by a rustling over on the narrow cot then Jack's smooth face peaking out of the covers.
Jack peeked out from under the covers on the bunk bringing Bo back to the present out of his dark memories of BB and Scotland O' Neal.
"Finally made it huh Bo?" Jack asked as he eased his thin frame up off the narrow bunk trying not to wake up Ryan as he did.
"Yup! I finally made it and you didn't even leave the light on for me." Bo said as smoke rings drifting slowly up from the bowl of his worn corn cob pipe.
"Yes I did leave it on. I told Ryan we would for you. The damned thing has a short in it most likely." Jack was now sitting on the edge of the bunk watching Bo and smiling as he let his eyes roam over Bo's smooth hairless body, his skin still sparkling from the dampness the rain coat didn't cover.
"Ok.. so you did. The question is where am I going to sleep? That bunk is way to small for three." said Bo.
"Yeah it is, it's to small for two even when one is just a baby angel with a iron ram poking me in the belly button all night." Jack chuckled.
"You had no reason to get the boy all excited Jack. It's bad enough to make him sleep naked." Bo smiled, enjoying the conversation and the warmth of the coal stove on his chilled body, His shriveled balls were finally loosening up and returning to normal thanks to the heat from the stove.
"Well he sure in the hell wasn't going to sleep with me in wet drawers, angel or not, and I don't know about this angel business. He shot me two evil eyes that could kill when I made a simple joke about O'Neal and sleeping with him if he didn't dry off first." Jack said. standing and walking over to the table where Bo was sitting.
"Hell Jack, what did you expect a laugh at sleeping with the evil son of a bitch that had you stripped and hog tied all day in a graveyard only to wait all day to be sold; that night in bondage or slavery to some mine operator or whore house or a riverboat captain." Bo clamped his lips shut around the stem of his pipe and actually glared at Jack for a moment then softened his expression.
"Yeah, you're right on that point, but never put riverboat captain with the other ever again. I wasn't thinking when I said it I guess." Jack said as he opened the door to the stove and stoked the fire. The position gave Bo the perfect view of his pale smooth ass which Bo enjoyed greatly. Bo felt his cock begin to come to life slowly rising between his legs as his eyes soaked in the pale roundness and tight youthful skin.
Bo had known Jack for several years now but this was the first time for him to see Jack in all his glory. "Damn, Damn, slap my whoring momma, full moon over lake Pontchartrain and I ain't even looking out a window." exclaimed Bo as he enjoyed the view.
Jack felt the heat rising in his face and cheeks turning them red as the coals in the fire as he listened to Bo talk about his exposed ass. But, at the same time a sly smile crept across his face as he gently swayed his ass side to side once, then twice to really give Bo something to look at. He finished spreading fresh coal on the fire and closed the door, hanging the shovel back on it's wooden peg. "Thank you so much for that fine weather report on moon phases sir." Jack said turning around to face Bo at the table. He looked down into Bo's lap and let another smile cross his ruby lips as he walked closer then reached down into Bo's lap and gently grabbed his cock. He took a finger and brushed it across the crown spreading the pre cum over the half exposed head peeking out of the uncut folds. "Hmm, cream but no coffee for it." Jack said, as he let go and grabbed the second chair, sliding it across the floor next to the stove.
Jack looked over to the bunk were the sleeping boy was wrapped in linen sheets and wool blankets, then stifled a yawn. "I guess we could go to the next cabin and strip that bunk and make a pallet on the floor for tonight, hell if it wasn't so late and in the middle of this here bloody storm. I would say grab our duds and the sleeping Devil child and move down to one of the unused state rooms.", He continued. "Plenty of room in the grand one at the stern, under the captain's cabin, it still has two full beds and the largest on the Water Witch, not mention steam heat if it still works."
"Yeah.. that does sound good about a real bed and a double dusty stateroom that has a chill, except for this 50 plus mph wind, rain and hail not to mention a long walk across a open deck with a naked wore out angel. I already got welts forming from my first brush with the hail and my tender body ain't used to such abuse in the funeral business." He chuckled. "Let's go strip this cabin for a nice pallet in a already cozy room." Bo said as he thumped the ashes from his pipe against the scarred table and rubbed his cock with his other hand. "This ain't so bad", he thought. The rumble of thunder and crash of lightning brought him back out of his thoughts and the low moan of the six chime whistle reminded him where he was at." At least I feel safe for once again in my life."
"What's going on?" A sleepy voice asked from the warmth of the bunk as an eleven year old head popped out from the covers.
"Just talking, Ryan, on how the three of us are going to sleep since the bunk is to narrow and Bo is to big to sleep on top of us. Besides you'r to scrawny to be in the middle of a all pale meat sandwich." Jack said standing up not bothering with concealing his half hard uncut penis from view. "I think I am going to make a pot of coffee to warm us up after we go strip the other cabin."
"Do you think we can bring that other mattress in here too, it would beat sleeping on just a hard floor." Bo said. While Jack was looking behind him on the narrow cluttered shelf for a large can of ground coffee. Ryan watched both of them and noticed both had hardened cocks and wondered what they had been doing besides talking while he slept.
"I think so Bo as they are not made into the bunk frames." Jack said as he filled the enamel coffee pot with cold water from a spigot on a large ten gallon tin drum. Ice still clinked inside from when they had filled it that morning from the wharf side icehouse in Manchac. He filled the metal filter with ground coffee. The strong aroma filled the room as he placed the top on the pot and sat it on the stove to brew.
"What do you want me to do Jack?" Ryan asked as he unwrapped himself from the blankets and hopped off the bunk. No longer paying heed to his nudeness in front of the others. His own small penis was still hard but he didn't care after seeing the current states of the other two males in the room.
"Follow your captain's orders. Stay here, watch the coffee pot and be ready to open the door when we come back so the bedding doesn't get soaked. Come here Ryan." Bo asked and he waited for the boy to cross the few steps from the bunk to the table.
"Yeah Bo?" Ryan asked as he stopped in front of Bo.
Bo reached out, gently wrapped his arms around Ryan and picked him up and sating him on his lap. The boy rested easy, not tense now, leaning back against Bo's hard smooth chest. "You're safe now lil one. No one will ever hurt you as long and Jack and myself are here to protect you." Bo rubbed Ryan's small arms spreading warmth and love into the boy as he sighed and practically melted. Bo's words sunk in deep to his shattered heart and beaten soul. Jack stood to the side and smiled as he slipped on his rain coat and hat as he listened to the weather beginning to calm outside. Ryan's warm body caused Bo's cock to stir and soon it had risen and now stood fully erect it's head leaking pre cum on Ryan's warm back. Ryan liked the feeling of the heat and warmth and it didn't help him at all as his own poked Bo's belly.
"Bo quit getting the boy all excited, you're leaking again and Ryan is making me jealous,,, he's getting all the attention." Jack chuckled as he moved closer to Bo and leaned over to kiss Bo on the lips for a long moment before turning and giving Ryan a kiss on the forehead.
"Jack the cold wind and rain will take care of Bo's awakening snake." Ryan smiled and giggled as he hopped off of Bo's lap then handed him his rain coat and hat. "Yours too Jack!" Ryan said. A wide grin spread across his face.
"Yes it will my Satanic little angel." Bo smiled as he said it. Then slipped the black Vulcan rubber rain coat and hat on. Tying both tightly and checking all the buttons to keep as much of the rain and wind out as he could.
"Satanic? Me? never! I am an innocent eleven year old, adorable blonde boy." Ryan said flashing his best innocent, heart melting smile.
"Innocent as my virgin ass!" Jack said as lightning burst from the sky and thunder rolled so close that the cabin window rattled in it's frame. Silence filled the room as Jack blushed.'
"Umm... Jack watch what you said, I want to live long enough to actually use this." Ryan said pointing to his crotch.
Bo bust into laughter and kept on laughing until tears filled his eyes. "Damn the boy is right Jack! Watch what you say." He checked his rain coat remembering both the Colt 45 and the pocket pistol, removing both from his coat pocket and laying them on the table.
"Damn, trapped between a eleven year old devil and his armed escort. In my own cabin." Jack said walking to the door while looking over his shoulder.
"OK! Smart ass, I am not his escort. Besides the Captain told you to keep him safe but I wasn't about to let Scotland stay armed as pissed off as he is. I've got to keep our innocent virgin safe for now." Bo snickered as he joined Jack at the door. The wind continued to blow but the hail had stopped and the rain slackened off. They both dashed out the door and Ryan pulled it shut behind them. He then stood by the stove keeping watch through the slats in the shutter over the window.
"Shit! This fucking wind is cold, so is this damned deck on my bare feet." Bo shouted as dime sized rain drops pelted him in the face. Jack nodded as he yanked open the stubborn door to the unused cabin, stepped in and fumbled for the light cord dangling from the light socket that he hoped worked. It did and the room was flooded with pale yellow light. Jack pulled the dust covers off the bunk as quickly as he could as the cold seeped through the soles of his bare feet. Bo was scanning the room for anything else they might need but all he saw was a yellowing pulp magazine called "Boys in bondage" with two naked white boys in a very exciting 69 position tied hand and foot on the torn cover. He quickly put it back down and took the bedding from Jack. "Go ahead and take these back to our cabin while I free the mattress." Jack said.
"Ok Jack, be back in a second to help." Bo dashed out the door and ran the few steps next door. Ryan opened the door when he saw Bo's shadow.
"Here Ryan, take these while I go back and help Jack with the mattress." Bo said as he shoved the sheets and blankets into Ryan's arms.
"Ok Bo," Ryan held on to the stuff and closed the door. The wind had a nasty bite on his naked flesh.
Jack was struggling with the mattress when Bo made it back in. Dust floated through the humid air. Bo started helping Jack with the mattress trying to free it from the wooden frame, their muscles straining as they pulled on the corners. The heavy leather mattress broke free and both of them went flying backwards landing with a crash on the hard wooden floor their asses catching the brunt of the fall.
"Fucking hell! That hurt." Jack exclaimed, standing back up and rubbing his bruised ass through the thin rain coat.
"No shit! That floor is hard and this rubber thin." Bo said standing up with the help of the table.
"Well, lets get the damned thing moved out of here before the damned rain returns. The winds have shifted again and this storm is far from over." Jack said picking up one end.
"Yeah, I'm ready for a cup of coffee and to thaw out again." Bo said grabbing the other end. "Damn, this thing weighs a ton. Let's see if we can slide it on the floor."
"Ok, Bo." Jack said letting down his end. They slid it to the door and Bo opened it. The wind almost snatching the handle out of his hand. "We walk with the mattress against the wall as I'm not about to fish it out of the lake." Jack said closing the door once they were back out on the hurricane deck roof.
"Sure thing Boss!" Bo chuckled and smiled as they slid the mattress over the slick tar paper roofing. Ryan was ready with the door. He moved back out of the way as the two brought it in and Jack yanked the door shut just as the rain picked back up hammering the cabin in an almost deafening roar outside.
"Damned storm isn't going to stop it seems." Bo said propping his end against the table.
"Yeah it seems that way. Mother Nature is a long winded ole gal at times for sure," Jack was scanning the small cabin trying to place everything in his mind, as the smell of coffee reached his nose. "We can put this one in front of the bunk and Ryan will have to climb over us." Jack said as he moved the chair out of the way.
"Ok Jack. Sounds good to me." Bo said moving his end and swinging it around as Ryan hopped out of the way by jumping up on the bunk. "There's some big balls on that flying frog hopping up on the bunk Jack." Bo laughed as they moved it into position and let it drop. Ryan dropped the bundle down on top of it.
"I think someone is in a hurry to go back to sleep or just showing off to be cute," Bo said as he walked back to the door and moved the chair back to the table. He then started to pull off his hat and wet rain coat.
"I think he is being cute and showing off that little ass of his of his." Jack said unfolding the sheets and blankets and putting them on the mattress. "Damn Bo, I forgot to grab the extra pillow."
"It's ok Jack, I am not about to go back out in this storm again tonight. We can use the extra one on the bunk and share. We might not get much sleep anyway." Bo winked at Jack. "Once we put the baby to bed and tell him a bedtime story. Bo smiled as Ryan frowned back.
"Ok fine by me Bo. We could use both Ryan doesn't need one. What bedtime story we going to tell our baby boy? Pepe the gar fish who eats bad little boys or Big Al king of the Mississippi who is so big he causes the waves and when a deck hand drops a pinch of tobacco he causes a thick fog so they can have a break." Jack winked at Ryan who was now really frowning sitting on the bunk.
"Hey! I do to need a pillow. I haven't even slept in a real bed in over two years and I have heard both those bedtime stories from my pa. Want me to tell one of how the Railroads are so much better than steamboats. I bet their conductors don't make their passengers sleep naked!" Ryan said hopping off the bunk and sticking out his tongue at Jack.
"I was joking lil one, don't take everything so seriously or you will grow old before your time. Also, if you curse one more time using that R word I am going to spank you and wash out your mouth with lake water and lye soap." Jack said removing his hat and rain coat and hanging them on the peg beside Bo's. He reached for three tin ware mugs and a small bag of course brown sugar. Jack sat them on the table and took a white towel to remove the grinds from the coffee.
"You can keep the pillow and sleep outside on the deck or go sleep with Blackbeard and be his boy." Jack laughed as Ryan put his hands on his hips and gave a stern hard look at both of them before sticking out his tongue and laughing.
"Jack, you know you wouldn't let me sleep on the deck and you know you want my cute butt it's the smoothest thing on this boat." Ryan laughed and turned around and mooned Jack spreading his cheeks wide.
"Smart ass!" Bo laughed as he took the cup of coffee from Jack.
"Bo I am sure we can teach him how to use that cute tongue properly and we might find a small warm hole for our snakes to hide in tonight if he keeps showing off that baby ass." Jack said rubbing his free hand over his limp cock.
Ryan looked startled at first then a sly smile crossed his face.
"I think someone wants to play, Bo." Jack said as he added two heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar into Ryan's cup and stirred it. Ryan walked over to the table and took his tin cup and blew on the steaming coffee to cool it a little as Bo reached over and started to rub Ryan's back.
Ryan tensed then relaxed letting out a soft sigh. "That feels great Bo." Ryan said enjoying the feel of Bo's hand on his lower back. The tingling in his lower back spread down and up all over his body. Bo's fingers were covered in rough skin from all his manual labors but the motions of them were soft and gentle. They sipped their coffee while sitting and talking.
Ryan talked about his friends and the big white house that was left behind and the fishing trips with his grandpa. Jack talked about the Water Witch and how he had met Blackbeard who he now considered his father. Bo listened and spoke softly about a boy named Lew and how he'd fallen in love with him and his death that very night. When Bo finished, tears were leaking down his cheeks. Ryan went and sat in his lap hugging and holding him close. Ryan yawned and Jack and Bo smiled at each other.
"I think our angel is getting tired Bo." Jack said as he pulled Ryan into his arms to let Bo have a break and took up rubbing the boy's smooth back. Bo stood up and walked over to the bunk and began stripping it piling the pillows, blankets and sheets on to the pallet and bent over the bunk to tug at the mattress. Ryan held back from reaching over and pinching Bo's exposed ass. He was so relaxed he didn't want it to end. Bo moved the mattress from the frame and let it drop beside the other one. Jack's wasn't nearly as heavy as the one from the spare cabin and he lined them up. Bo then took the sheets and blankets and remade it up and placed the three pillows across them making a nice double bed on the floor with walking room between the stove and table and to the cabin door.
Jack and Ryan watched Bo. Ryan relaxed letting his eyes half close from the wonderful back rub and total exhaustion. Before Bo had finished making up the pallets Ryan was a sleep in Jack's caring arms. Jack smiled when Bo finished by adding the pillows and placed a finger to his lips and pointed to Ryan. Bo smiled himself.
"Want me to put him to bed?" Bo asked stretching out his arms and gently picked up Ryan. He moaned in his sleep and was limp in his arms. Bo laid Ryan down on the pallet in the middle and pulled the sheets up over him . "Angel and the bad man." Jack said in a soft voice as a smile spread across his handsome face.
"Yeah Jack, I have turned a corner in my life. Bo walked over to Jack and planted a kiss on Jack's lips, holding it there for a long moment before pulling gently back. He continued walking over to the peg where his now almost dry clothes hung and pulled out a cheap brass pocket watch made in New Orleans and looked at the time. "12:01 AM. A new day, a new life." He yawned. "Ready for bed handsome?" Bo asked as he walked across the floor.
"Yes, my tall handsome bad man." Jack said holding out his arms as Bo took his hands and pulled him up out of the chair and into his powerful arm as they embraced. They kissed again long and deep. "Oh, how many nights I have dreamed of this, but us alone." Bo sighed. "But I wouldn't trade tonight for no other in my life, except for one and that was the night Blackbeard saved my life." They laid down one on each side of Ryan and as if on cue the light bulb winked out. "Someone is watching from above I think and it's not Matt and Pete." Bo stated.
"Yes I think he is for once." Jack answered as Ryan rolled over and he felt Ryan's head rest on his chest.
"Bo. I think our angel finally feels safe again but that pillow is softer than my chest," Jack whispered and smiled in the glow from the coal stove.
"Lucky little bastard, but I figured he wanted to be close to us." Bo smiled and closed his eyes. The cabin grew quiet except for the soft breathing of the three boys and the howling winds and rain.
Ryan began to dream of his past and of the old man he called grandpa. The white house on the hill and of the golden Lab named Frenchie. In front of the house the grandest city in the South spread out before the white picket fence, behind the backyard stood the levees protecting the city from Ole Man Mississippi. Where he and his grandpa would sit for hours fishing and watching the steamers head down river, waiting for the mournful moan of the whistle from the Mayflower. It would be his dad signaling he was coming home and to have supper waiting on the table. In his dream his grandpa wasn't killed on Canal Street and his pa didn't drink and the Mayflower would always be King of the Mississippi River. His mom always had fresh baked cookies on the table for him and fresh milk for his little brother Jamie.
He continued to dream as most of the Crescent city slept her uneasy sleep, as the river rose along with the lake, as Blackbeard smoked his pipe, as Matt and Pete steered a clear course for Manchac.
Ball Buster was having one last drink in his favorite bar on Bourbon Street, in the French Quarter, on high ground, as Bo and Jack were putting Ryan to bed. By the time they went to sleep themselves, Ball Buster was strolling along the street towards O' Neal's Funeral Parlor. The winds and rain had calmed down but the street in front of Saint Louis Cathedral was empty. The gas lamps flickered in the storm winds and shattered glass surrounded every other one and the lamp was dark. Jackson Square was empty and silent, the live oak trees swaying in the tropical winds.
He was approaching a store that seemed out of place in the Quarter, Saint Luke's Bible Publishing. Ball Buster laughed. "This sinning city doesn't believe in no Saints or a man named Christ!" The words died in his throat as the iron chain snapped as he passed under the sign and with a crashing blow to his skull the iron framed sign did what a many of a man died trying do. The man who was afraid of nothing but his father and drowning died on a deserted street in six inches of muddy water.
The city that did believe in God and prayed to him slept on. He would be found the next day by a group of thieves and would be stripped pf everything but his clothes. In death he lost everything he loved including his prized cane with its two golden testicles on the head. A gift from O'Neal, after all you looked after the only person who even would consider you a friend.
By 4 AM the storm had moved Northeast loosing most of it's punch and the stars shown bright and clear over lake Pontchartrain. Blackbeard sighed in relief as the lights of Manchac came into view. He stayed in the pilothouse until the pilots had docked the Water Witch. He stood up and patted the great wheel with a loving hand and bid his pilots goodnight. Once the boat was safely tied to the wharf the pilots and crew headed to their bunks for sleep.
The Southern sun broke through the gray dawn and city workers began the clean up and started checking the damage to he canals and levees. Whenever a leak was found gangs of workers filled sand bags as the white officers of the Corps of Engineers looked on. People mingled on the brick streets and shop owners opened their shops to sell their wares.
The mighty yards of the Illinois Central brimmed with life as men and track gangs began their work. Clerks checked the telegraph lines and sent out repair crews as steam rose from the ground to mix with that of the iron horses panting with their trains waiting to get on the High Iron to head north.
A slender sleek 4-6-0 Ten wheeler whistled for clearance as the semaphore was raised giving clearance to the Y&MV milk train to Baton Rouge. The engineer tooted his whistle and opened the throttle. The bi g drivers slipped then found purchase and the ten car train was headed north under clearing skies and a trail of black coal smoke.
Ryan continued his sleep dreaming of his past, snuggled between Bo and Jack. His past life swept away and his new life awaiting his awakening. His Past gone, future waiting...
Well, Well dear Reader we finally meet again. I must first explain why it has taken me so bloody long, what over three years for chapter 11. Well, I went to England for the month of July in 2002 to visit my uncle Mike and had a bloody blast soaked up so much history and English beer I thought I would burst. Well I came home and in Sept that year XP crashed and took my hard drives along with their encryption key with it. I tried and tried to find it to recover all my photos and data. I still morn the loss of many of my pictures and notes and of yet I have not found a way to break the encryption. I can see the thumbnails clear as day, but can not move them or crack the code since no one told me I needed to make a back up disc for XP fucking Gateway. So if any one knows how to break the encryption or find the codes please tell me.
Well I don't know how the original chapter started nor how it would of ended. This one was started from scratch and this hurricane has been brewing for three years before Mother Nature sent Katrina. What's in store for Ryan and the gang is a good question. I hope to know the answers a lot sooner in the future if everything goes right on Oct 4th, when I have laser surgery on my eyes due to diabetes. I lost the front half of my right foot to it on Feb 13th 2004 so health has also kept me from writing combined with depression.
Well Until Next Time dear Reader, High Ball!
This chapter is dedicated to Ed Wooten, my editor and great friend who has passed on to a much better place and to my Uncle Mike who refuses to let this wild Colonial boy give up.
I must also thank a new friend and reader for editing this Chapter, Thanks JW.
Swarri1349@aol.com E mail me and tell me what you think ok.
Stephen Warrington
Sept 29, 2005**