Him Who Made the Seven Stars

Him Who Made the Seven Stars 59

Him Who Made The Seven Stars
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 59

"Religion must die for mankind to live. The hour is getting very late to be able to indulge in having key decisions made by religious people - by irrationalists - by those who would steer the ship of state, not by a compass, but by the equivalent of reading the entrails of a chicken. Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking. It's nothing to brag about. And those who preach faith, and enable and elevate it are intellectual slaveholders, keeping mankind in a bondage to fantasy and nonsense that has spawned and justified so much lunacy and destruction." ~ Bill Maher

Billy and Boomer were impressed by the job the newly formed group of giants did on the apartment they chose for their own private get-away. They divorced themselves from the rest of the family in the late afternoon to meet Hank and Buck in the grooming rooms in one of the towers of the castle. Billy was equally impressed how everything was coming together to refurbish the castle. It was like old times being with Hank and Buck. Billy could relax, let his hair down, and talked with Hank like he was his granddad. Hank confided in Billy he was never more happy in his relationship with his mate, and they were both thrilled to be back in Texas and members of his family. Billy and Boomer made a night of it and made up for lost time. What their sexual relationship lacked in regularity was compensated by the strength of their need for each other. Their draw was powerful and intense, deeply rooted in a shared primal animal lust bordering on a metaphysical experience. It bridged their hearts and souls from one time to another.

"Now we have a wonderful place to escape to so's we can share a little love from time to time, there won't be no more excuses, Boom. I promise we will spend more time together one-on-one," Billy said.

"I been around more years than you and can better appreciate what you're going through with your balancing act between personalities, healings, projects, and love. You're doing amazingly well. I sometimes wonder when you will run out of your never ending supply of love for everyone around you, and especially those of us who are more close to you. Have you talked lately with Nick about your relationship? I have no doubt he'll tell you the same thing I'm about to tell you. We ain't in competition for your love, Master Billy. We each bring something to you, you can't get anywhere else. You need us to balance you, just as your owner kept you balanced all these years without a lot of human guidance. I can tell, the time you spent with Hank this evening made a big difference. You're more relaxed and receptive than I ever remember," Boomer observed, "You need to take a good ride with Samson to clear your head. You haven't talked with your owner lately, have you, Master?" Boomer asked.  

Billy chuckled, "I been so busy with other things, other than feeding him and Ms. Maybelle, I ain't had time for no one-on-one time with him either. We chat about major things, but it ain't like we're alone. He's starting a family; he's got his mare and a young colt on the way. He's concerned about Ms. Maybelle, and it's natural. He'll make the best father – something neither of us had. It's a good suggestion, and I think I will take your advice to make time for us to get away together. Ms. Maybelle can do without him for an afternoon or so," Billy replied.

"You were Samson's mother and father, Master," Boomer said.

"At first, perhaps, but we became more like brothers what bonded because we lost our parents; he leaned on me; I leaned on him; then, he outgrew me and matured faster than me. Somewhere along the way we switched roles, and he became my mentor, my animal master, and spirit-guide. There ain't another like him, but I been more fortunate than most. I had others looking out for me what have stood by me and insisted I 'could' when I never thought I would be able to bear the weight of such great responsibility," Billy said, "I still ain't sure. I wing it from hour to hour, day to day, and that ain't no pun. I make it up as I go along, but I got confidence in the gifts them more advanced critters gimme.' When I say 'Hosanna,' I mean it," he added.

When they returned from the grooms to their apartment, there was a gift-wrapped box on a small table when they walked into the room. There was a small card which simply read: 'With love and respect,' and it was signed: Nick.

Billy looked at Boomer, but he got nothing back. "Do you know anything about this, Boom?" Billy asked.

"No, sir, Master Billy, but I'd say it's in keeping with Captain Nick's personality. Sometimes, when you least expect it, he can be the most thoughtful of all them fallen angels," Boomer replied.

"Should I open it now?" Billy asked.

"Since he left it in such a conspicuous place, I would surmise he intended for us to see it upon entering the room, and it would prompt us to open it immediately," was Boomer's reasoned reply.

"Of course. We make a good team, Boom. Me? Dummy. You? Smart handsome beast," Billy said and grinned.

"One temporarily vapor-locked brain what was unexpectedly surprised don't make you no dummy, Master?" Boomer declared and laughed.

Billy laughed with him as he began to remove the wrapping. He carefully set the box on the table, lifted the lid, and set it aside. He rummaged through the packing and pulled out a beautiful gold star-bell about a foot tall, mounted on a uniquely carved base made from a dark wood. It had a small gold hammer on a golden chain attached to the base. The most unusual thing about the bell was the carvings on the side of the wooden structure which held up the cross-brace from which the bell hung. On one side was a perfect carving of a tall well-built naked cowboy, except for his boots and hat, and the other side was a watcher, a Bigfoot who looked exactly like Boomer. Together their arms were stretched above their massive shoulders to hold up the cross brace for the bell.  

"Hosanna!" Billy exclaimed softly like an evening prayer with a soupçon of awe in his voice.

"Hosanna, in the highest!" Boomer whispered two octaves lower like a solid 'Amen' to his master's supplication.

"Couldn't that damned old demon bastard have been just a bit more thoughtful?" Billy asked in awe.

Boomer didn't expect Billy's response and doubled over with laughter. "You're just plumb awful, Master Billy," Boomer declared and continued laughing.

"If I'm so awful, why  the Hell are you laughing?" Billy asked and they laughed together, "A little cowboy humor kept us from get'n all teary eyed and maudlin," Billy added.

"I'm sure he'd expected nothing less. He knows you too well, and I'll have to admit, it grabbed me by the balls," the giant beast added, and they laughed again.

"Somehow, it just reeks of Bossman Randy," Billy said, and they shared another laugh.

"Naw, now that ain't fair. I wouldn't even make such a suggestion. Don't go there – whether it's true or not. While the star-bell itself might have been Randy's idea, the design and sincere thought behind it is the product of a mature mind; a soul who has aged and mellowed over the centuries; who is not beyond a bit of spectacular gut-wrenching sentimentality to secure himself with us. Speaking as one cowboy to another, don't never underestimate your demon dad, Master Billy. I come to know Captain Nick, and we got us a mutual admiration society going with each other. I have no doubt he will eventually find his way to my arms, and when he does, they'll be open and waiting for him," Boomer said.

"Good to know. I would never frown upon it. I rather like the idea of keeping it all in the family," Billy responded, "A family what lays together, stays together," Billy added with a wicked grin.

Billy and Boomer sated themselves with each other. They rang the star-bell four times and created beautiful stars in the constellation of Scorpio. Billy morphed to make himself almost a third larger physically than his normal state. Even though he was filling out and becoming one of the most well-developed cowboys in the Daniels' posse, Boomer was still larger than Billy's adjusted self. That was all right with Billy. He liked to feel just a bit vulnerable to his huge husband. In his normal size, Nick was larger than Billy. He wanted the psychological imbalance to make his husband and his surrogate dad feel they were of great importance to him, and he trusted them. In a way, it was Billy's chance for a second childhood, and he reveled in the luxury. What man hasn't looked back upon his youth and wished for a second chance?

* * * * * * *
The following morning, over breakfast, Billy announced to his family, since it would be an unscheduled week, he would be spending several mornings with his owner, and they would be riding around the property to inspect the various building projects and the progress on various agricultural programs underway. Immediately after breakfast, he saddled up Samson, and they set out for the line cabin. They left Ms. Maybelle behind. Billy wasn't rude, he simply explained to her he needed to be alone with his master for a while and discuss a few things with him. Samson was free to tell her about their day and what they talked about.

Billy and Samson set out to the line-cabin on the dirt road he had Enoch and Moss cleared with the huge Earth moving machine. It ran along a ridge line down to the banks of the rivers where the road divided and ran along the north side of the James river and the other side went up and over to the ridge and down to the line-cabin on the Llano river. They forded the river at its most shallow point and picked up the road on the opposite side. Billy slowly rode Samson by several of the new bunkhouses on the cliffs of the river and everyone was up and working. Some were doing cowboy jobs riding horses and moving the regular cattle to different pastures which were allowed to rest for a while to grow so the grass would have a chance to recover from over-grazing.

Everyone waved and beckon him over to chat. They stopped several times to talk and be sociable. Billy explained he had an easy schedule that week, and he just wanted to ride around and check things out. He wasn't snooping – just enjoying the good weather, getting outdoors, and being alone with his owner for a while as he gestured to Samson. The Irin cowboys and cowgirls didn't raise an eyebrow. They knew exactly what their master was talking about and where he was coming from. As they rode away and came to a beautiful spot beyond the bunkhouses where they could get a good birds-eye view of the ranch, Billy stopped for a moment and dismounted. Samson stood behind him and dropped his huge head over Billy's shoulder. Billy instinctively placed his hand on Samson's face and caressed him lovingly like he'd done so many times.

<< New times remind me of older, more carefree, times, >> Billy heard in his mind.

<< I couldn't agree more. It's been a while, but I'm making some changes in my life so I will have more time for you and Boomer. I'm spending ever morning with you this week so's my master can make sure his young cowboy-slave is riding on the right path, >> Billy returned.

<< I d__o__n't worry about you. I kn__o__w you w__ill come to me when you need me, >> Samson replied.

<< I don't want to take you away from your new family, >> Billy sent.

<< Please, do. Even families need time apart. You do know where the term 'nag' came from, don't you? >> Samson asked and gave a small horse laugh.

Billy laughed with him, << No relationship is perfect, >> Billy sent in reply and laughed again.

<< I ain't complain'n none, >> Samson said, << I made a commitment, and I will pay the price. Maybelle is more than I hoped for in a mate. She will give me many strong sons and daughters. Just get me away a couple of times a week to insure my sanity, >> he added, and they shared another laugh.  

<< I made Boomer a promise last evening, and I will make you the same promise. I will make sure we spend some quality one-on-one time together each week; just you and me riding the trails of the hill country together, Pod'na, >> Billy assured Samson, << It was Boomer's idea for me to consult with you this week, and I'm glad he did. I have several things bothering me I need to discuss with you, >> Billy sent.

<< You have my undivided attention, >> Samson said.

<< I feel the gathering of my immediate family or this phase of my life is coming to an end this next weekend or perhaps by the end of June at the latest. I'm worried I won't know where to go from there, >> Billy said.

<< Nonsense and stuff-n-such! >> Samson exclaimed, and Billy grinned at his Master.

<< Where the H__ell did you hear 'stuff-n-such'? >> Billy asked.

<< Your Grandmother. I been listening to her for years. And all this time you thought us ponies get our horse-sense from each other. Not so, Buckwheat! I got most of my smarts from your Granddad and Grandma. I still listen into Ms. Kate when she ain't too busy. We even carried on several conversations between your Granddad and her after she lost him. I would channel him to her to console her grief and ease her pain. I didn't tell her it was me, but your Granddad did, >> Samson replied.

<< Holy shit! I find out something new ever' damn day, >> Billy sent and laughed, << You want to finish your 'stuff-n-such' reply? >> Billy asked.

<< First of all, you ain't through gathering family. You will gather many more, but you're right, your inner circle of family is pretty well gathered. As for not knowing what to do, remember one time, long ago, just when we were learning about each other and you would try to over-control me and my every movement? >> Samson asked.

<< Yeah, it was hard work. I'd be exhausted by the end of the day. I'd almost fall asleep on the ride back to the barn, >> Billy lamented.

<< You did fall asleep several times, and I would carefully get you back safely. One time yore' granddaddy rode up beside me and spoke, "Thanks for being understanding and patient with him, Samson, I'll have a talk with him tomorrow," he said, >> Samson sent, << Do you remember that conversation, Son? >> he asked.

<< Like it was yesterday. My granddaddy done told me I was working way too hard and trying to over-control you. He asked me a question, "Son, why do you think we train them ponies to work with us? he asked. I replied, I thought it was to make our jobs easier. Granddad told me I was exactly right, but I was working too hard to get you to do things the way I thought they should be done. He told me to relax and let my pony do the work for bowfus. I did what he said, and it was the best day I ever spent in the saddle. It was like a new world opened for me, and up to that point, I was so worried I weren't gonna' make the grade as a cowboy. Then it come to me, it weren't the man what makes his'self a cowboy, it's his horse, >> Billy replied.

<< Good! Excellent! But what did you learn? >> Samson asked.

<< I learned to trust the people and critters I work with and don't never try to over-control them beyond a healthy cooperation, >> Billy said.  

<< What's that word you yell after a fine performance at them Barnyard Concerts? >> Samson asked.

<< Bravo? >> Billy asked in reply.

<< That's it! Bravo! That will do fine. You understand what you gotta' do. Them Irin and Grigori folks done went to a lot of trouble to make sure you have the best people with the highest potential any man has ever gathered on this planet. There ain't no limits to what you can accomplish as long as you got a good tight hold on the reins and give them their heads. Tell them what you want, stand back, and let them run with it. Look how fast your city is coming along. They almost got the basements and underground finished and once they get to street or land level, it won't take them anytime to finish. It will be complete by the time Bossman Randy starts school in the fall, >> Samson said, << You only have to remember one word: delegate, >> the big stallion added.

<< Captain Nick tells me the same, and my last challenge to Bossman Randy was a great success; however, as the result of other information we gathered during the rescue of Odin Bluetooth, I worry about bringing him along too fast, >> Billy lamented, << Sometimes, I wish't them ancients would give me a sign to let me know I'm on the right path. I want to do these things without a lot of trauma and bloodshed. I don't know how long we can go on without being 'discovered' and we either begin to gather a following or start taking hits from those of a more conservative ilk. I don't want a civil or religious war on my hands. I don't know nothing about leadership, politics, or statesmanship, >> Billy added quietly.

<< You were given the tools early. They were imprinted in your brain before you were born to this world, Son. You are slowly but surely changing and will become the great leader you would like to be; however, you can't do it alone. Remember your music. I tap you sometimes when you're performing. You're never more happy and content than when you're playing in a group. You love to be the leader and draw from them the best they can produce. You're very good at it. They play their hearts out for you, >> Samson said.

<< You enjoy our music? >> Billy asked.

<< Of course. The way Maybelle moves her butt around when you play that Cajun music gets me all hot and bothered. She makes my old cock drip until I have to mount her. I think she does it on purpose, >> Samson said and laughed, << She can be quite the temptress when she wants to be. Again, I ain't complain'n none. I like her just the way she is, >> he added. Billy laughed at his owner.

Billy and Samson spent the morning together, and as important as Boomer's coupling with his master the night before, their time was no less meaningful and important to Billy as his time with his animal spirit-guide. The morning passed quickly. Just before it became time for lunch, Billy decided to head back to the big house, they talked and enjoyed each other's company like they remembered from their older more carefree days together. Billy took Samson back to the big barn by the house, removed his saddle, rubbed him down, and fed his big stallion and Ms. Maybelle.

<< We'll do this again tomorrow morning through Thursday. We'll see about Friday as I got me a busy schedule for the coming weekend. If I can talk Captain Nick into riding along with us Thursday morning, would you feel up to carrying him, Ms. Maybelle? >> Billy sent.

<< Of course, Master Billy. Captain Nick and I have partnered several times, and he is a fine gentleman; an expert horseman. I would be honored to carry him and be included in your posse, sir, >> Maybelle replied.

<< Good! Then I'll invite him to ride along. The rest of the day I have meetings with my different staffs. We need to get some more projects underway for our safety, protection, and to secure our financial interests. Wish me luck, dear friends, >> Billy said.

<< You don't need our luck, Son, but you have it anyway. We will be listening in, but we won't comment unless asked, >> Samson said.

<< You're certainly welcome to comment. Just tickle me first, >> Billy allowed.

* * * * * * *
Billy spent the afternoon with his posse as they sat in one meeting after another. The finance meeting was first and the projections for the potential sales of the first herb crop at the end of the summer was encouraging. They decided not to do a large ad campaign and allow word of mouth to do their advertising for them, hoping demand would grow in relation to supply. Billy also asked if anyone considered building a testing lab to be able to have proof the herbs are non-addictive and have no bad side-effects. To strengthen his idea he brought to their attention their plans for a bakery and producing Hosanna Cakes would also require testing to show ingredients.

Aunt Helen was in several meetings. Billy appointed her as a representative for the Irin cowboy-slaves and to bring to him any needs, wants, or suggestions they might have. A number of them wanted to know if Master Billy planned to create a symphony orchestra, and if so, could they get instruments to learn to play? Billy was fascinated a good number of them wanted to learn, and he knew with their enhanced I.Q.s, it wouldn't take them long. He told Helen he would certainly consider and approve any ideas she and her staff might have to implement such a plan. He was afraid to ask how many wanted to learn, but Aunt Helen told him anyway: a little over half of them wanted to learn an instrument. Billy told them he would allocate the money for enough instruments for a good size orchestra, for them to get bids from reputable instrument suppliers, or assign a buyer for the purpose. He stressed every fiddle didn't have to be a Strad. Enoch, Moss, Billy's uncle, and Tron Garrett laughed at Billy's frugality.

Most of the Irin slaves hadn't heard a complete symphony orchestra on Earth. They knew about groups like Billy and his growing family of amateur musicians and the village band from Captain Nick's ship, but if Bossman Randy delivered on his promise of a complete Earth-based symphony orchestra to accompany Jessie Jones at the following Saturday afternoon Barnyard Concert, they would have a spectacular introduction to a great sound with an equally great piece of music. After experiencing a full symphony orchestra, he wondered how many more would want to learn to play an instrument?

Many wanted access to the Internet and Billy thought it would be a good idea for them to begin to gain information for themselves to learn about Earth's peoples and more about how they could best fit into their new society. It would certainly be a great research engine for those who wished to investigate the pros and perhaps cons of different musical instruments. The Internet was rife with solo and different combinations of instruments. Billy only saw the servitude of his family-slaves as a launching platform for them to grow into smarter, better members of the society he was trying to build. Would he be able to handle them like a juggler with an ever growing number of balls to keep in the air? (no pun intended nor implied) Billy agreed to get a dozen desktop computers for each bunkhouse and use one of the rooms in the small apartments in the rear for a quiet library setting with books and tables for the computers. Earphones would work well in a smaller space. Access to the library and computers would be divided equally among the cowboys.

* * * * * * *
"All right! All right! Off with them damn earphones! We been listening to you practice all week. We transport to the ranch tomorrow morning at eleven. Let's hear it! Crank up that sound system until it rattles the windows on the third floor!" demanded Harlen Johnson of his companion.

"Yes, peeease, Masser Jes-see," Chloe begged and wagged her complete body.

"Ah-oooff!  Ah-oooff!" Daffy let out. He was slower and more hesitant to attempt speech, while his mate was becoming a regular Chatty-Cathy.

"No! Not until everyone in our family asks me nicely!" Jessie replied and winked at Harlen. Harlen broke up laughing. Jessie worked faithfully with the dogs all week trying to get them to speak. Chloe was far more adventuresome than Daffy and was getting pretty good with pidgin English. Daffy sidled up to Jesse sitting on the bench, rubbed his huge body against him, licked his hand, and grinned his best doggie smile. "No, no! A sloppy doggie kiss and a canine body-block ain't gonna' get it. One word! That's all I ask. Come on, Daffy, I know you can do it. You done it for me once before. I bragged about you to Master Harlen and told him how smart you were, but he don't believe me. Show him you can speak," Jessie insisted.

"Ruuuffff!" Daffy replied.

"I know learning to speak is 'rough' but that word sounds too much like a bark. Try 'please' Daffy," Jessie pleaded.

"Sleeeeeze!" Daffy managed to get out.

Harlen almost dropped to the floor laughing. "Boy, does he have your number!" the big cowboy roared.

Jessie laughed. "That's close enough for now, Daffy. Don't pay Master Harlen no never mind, Sweetheart, you done good," Jessie complimented the big dog's attempt.

Jessie unplugged his earphones and turned the output selector to the speakers, cranked up the volume, returned to the piano, clicked the small remote control device to start the DVD, and the orchestra began to play Rachmaninoff's Variations on a theme of Paganini. It was a music minus-one recording of the piece. The pianist at home was to provide the music which the recording was minus. Jessie launched into the piece like he was eating a piece of cake and exotic ices on the veranda of a seaside villa on a warm afternoon. The dogs settled down, Harlen dropped into his favorite leather chair with a drink in his hand, and they listened to some glorious music. They marveled at the talented playing of their friend. Jessie was flawless in his technique but strangled by the canned-accompaniment provided by the orchestra. There was very little room for the performer to emote or stretch out a phrase. He had to rush though the eighteenth variation like he just ran into a quickie-mart to pick up a few things and hurried to the check out line. You had to be there when the orchestra started again or else. As Bossman Randy so aptly put it about trying to keep pace with Glenn Gould, if you miss a note, you done screwed the pooch. It was a mechanical training exercise at best, but in a few places the brilliance of Jessie's playing came through. Just to finish the piece at the same time was a major accomplishment. All in all, it was an outstanding performance. Harlen and Chloe praised him, but Daffy barked his approval.

"If you play half that good come Saturday, you will wow them shit-kickers beyond words, Brother, to say nothing of having Zelma Redbone eating from your hand!" Harlen exclaimed.

"Waaa-t Massser Har-lon said!" Chloe agreed. Jessie laughed and gave her a hug.

"Ruuff peee-ce a' moo-sick!" Daffy managed, and they all shared a laugh.     

"Good boy, Daffy! You're right, it is a rough piece of music," Jesse complimented and encouraged the huge dog.

"Now, no more practicing until the concert. You couldn't get no better if you tried. As your unofficial manager, you're ready. Give it a rest, a chance to mellow and mature, and when you walk out onto that barn stage you will be prime musical beef on the hoof – each variation more tasty than the last – until you reach emotional pay-dirt with the eighteenth – then milk that old cow for all it's worth, and you's home free," Harlen said in his best cowboy hyperbole. Am I right, my children?" Harlen asked Daffy and Chloe.

"Riiiite!" said Chloe.

"Ruuufff!" said Daffy.

"Close enough, but needs work," Harlen said, and they laughed again.

* * * * * * *
It was a great week at the ranch. Billy was in contact with Bossman Randy every evening at the end of the day. Tuesday evening he talked with his half-pint Major-domo.

"How's our prospects for an orchestra coming along?" Billy asked.

"The orchestra's lined up, and we got them at a good price. Tom McMartin offered them twice their usual scale, and they agreed. We got one of Tom's empty warehouses to set them up. I done got a stage built and the acoustics checked. We had to make some minor adjustments, but I'm hopeful you'll be pleased with the results," Randy said.

"What orchestra, Son?" Billy asked and held his breath.

"Redbone? Houston Phil? Three guesses, Cowboy, and the first two don't count!" Randy exclaimed.

"Smoke'n Jesus, Bossman! How much did that set us back?" Billy said and clutched his throat like he was feeling for his grandma's Sara Coventry beads to nervously pop and play with like he did as a kid when he was bored in church.

"Tom McMartin is a smooth operator. I couldn't a done it without him. Just mention the Redbone name in Houston and doors swing open. If'n h'it weren't for the Redbones, the Houston Philharmonic wouldn't exist. There just ain't no room in a severe austerity budget for the arts. Most of the musicians have to take a second and sometimes a third job to survive. Beside, it's gonna' be worth it. We got release rights signed to create a DVD of the Barnyard Concert with Jesse, and we'll offer the complete concert – classic, and down-home on the Internet for five bucks. We can't use the Houston Philharmonic's name, but who cares? H'it ain't a name what makes the music or the money. We'll make ten times the money we spend on the orchestra. We'll bill it as the Texas Hill Country equivalent of the Prairie Home Companion without the homespun comedy; howsomever, them dance'n cows just might make up for it.   

"Now here's the deal, big bro – you and our soloists get one rehearsal run-through. They got the music you want in their lie-berry including the conductor's score," Randy paused for it to sink in.

"Us hill country cowboy conductor's don't need us no frick'n scores, Pod'na!" Billy pulled Randy's chain. He heard Randy giggle.

"Just in case you pass out from stage fright, and I gotta' take over for you, Maestro Bullpuckey," Randy shot back. Anyway, here's the plan: we drag your big cowboy-butt to the warehouse for the rehearsal and back to the ranch for the concert. Since Jessie's third on the program, they gotta' sit through our first act, the Haydn trio with Roz, my sister, and Aunt Helen. Then, them twins play the Bach double violin concerto. We don't need the whole orchestra for the Bach since Aunt Helen can play bass with Roz on cello. Of course you will play the electronic harpsichord continuo; however, it might be nice to have three fiddle players and three viola players from the orchestra to fill out the ensemble, but I'll leave that to you. In negotiations with their leaders, I held out for one classical symphony of your choice to introduce our folks to the overwhelming commanding sound a large group of fine well-trained musicians can create," Randy said sounding like a business tycoon in the same voice Billy heard Tom McMartin use many times to make a point. Billy laughed to himself, the little scamp had Tom down pat.

"That's easy. Beethoven's Fifth in C minor," Billy said.

"Damn! I was sure you'd go for the Sixth," Randy said quietly.

"You're right, Son! It's my favorite. For a peaceful pastoral setting 'yes' it would be my personal choice, but we want something to stir the blood of every man, woman, and beast in range of hearing. You know them village musicians won't be knocked out by nothing less than the brilliance of the fifth," Billy defended his choice of the old war horse, "Besides, I can conduct the fifth in my sleep – and have, many times," he added and laughed.  

"Good point, big Brother. I think I done sat in on several of your performances in my dreams," Randy allowed and winked at his big brother from his computer screen. They laughed together at their nonsense.

The Rachmaninoff will be last. The orchestra will be seen on a huge three dimensional screen behind the Yamaha grand wiff' you on the podium. They will see everything on another 3-D screen in front of them. It will be wonderful, big brother – my greatest accomplishment to date," Randy enthused.

"I don't know. Them angels in them bubbles was pert-damn impressive, Ramrod," Billy allowed.

"The only angel in this gig is Tom McMartin. He's a wonder to work with, Brother. I'm glad I got him for one of my dads," Randy gushed, "Just in case you ain't noticed, he's also a damn good looking buckaroo," Randy added and giggled.

"Hee-ah! I didn't hear that!" Billy exclaimed and laughed, "But you're right. He is one fine looking cowboy," Billy agreed, and they shared a laugh. "You been with the McMartins most of the week, Son?" Billy asked.

"Yes, sir, since Wednesday. I'm staying wiff' the family and opening a gate for us to come to breakfast tomorrow morning. Is that too early for ya'll?" Randy asked.

"Oh, Hell, no! The sooner the better, Pilgrim. Ain't seen ma' little brother's handsome face up close and personal in almost a week now, and I'm a' git'n me a bad case of the Bossman Randy withdrawals," Billy drawled and lamented. He got Randy's giggle box turned upside down.

"You's so full of it, Big Brother," Randy managed to get out.

"Naw, I's a quart low on my little brother's love. I could vapor-lock at any moment, Son," Billy said and laughed.

"Dream about me tonight," Randy offered.

"I dream about you ever' night, Son. All you have to do to know I ain't lying is to tickle me. I leave my door open for you," Billy poured it on, "By the way, were you in on them negotiations with them orchestra reps?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. I did most of the talking, but my big daddy, Uncle Tom, he done the 'hosannas' and 'hear hear' bits to back me up. He 'harrumped' and 'gallumphed' a good bit too when money started being discussed, but I will have to say, he's a generous and compassionate man. Trust yore' little brother, Master Billy, when I tell you – if'n you got a big man like Tom McMartin backing you, they don't need a lot of explanations. They was a bit skeptical at first and asked about my qualifications. I told them I didn't need no frick'n qualifications. I was your adopted little brother, your representative, and I spoke for you. I reminded them of the Fredericksburg incident, and I's surprised, they knew about it. They fired up their lap-tops, Duck Duck Go'ed our two names together, and it made a Hell of a lot more sense to them. I walked over to the piano, sat down, and ripped off my Gould imitation of the first Bach Partita. They never asked another question after that," Randy said and giggled at his impertinence.

"You never cease to amaze me, little Brother. I'm look'n forward to seeing you tomorrow, Cowboy," Billy said.

"Same here, Brother. We'll be there bright and early. We got lots to do to get ready for a big weekend," Randy allowed, and they disconnected.

* * * * * * *
Thursday morning Billy and Nick saddled up Samson and Maybelle respectively. They even took Boomer with them. They rode along at a leisurely pace, and it was easy for the long-leggedy beastie to keep up with them and even join in the conversation.

"Ain't seen you so calm and together in a while, Kemosabe. It's good to see," Nick said.

"Yeah, it's amazing what a night with my husband, a couple of awesome nights wiff' my surrogate dad, and several relaxed, laid-back mornings with my master and owner can do for a cowboy," Billy said and sighed deeply, "but as content as I am this morning, I'm still looking for a sign," he added.

"What kind of sign, Kemosabe?" Nick asked.

"I told ma' owner I's look'n for a sign from them ancients, Tonto, to let me know I'm on the right path," Billy replied.

"Hell, fire! You worry more'n an old auntie. Your owner can tell you you're on the right track, Son," Nick exclaimed. Samson and Maybelle laughed, "Ain't 'tat right, Ms. Maybelle?" Nick asked and the big palomino mare, and she shook her head up and down. "See, it's simple. No! No! You don't have to thank me none for that bit of wisdom," Nick added and grinned. Boomer laughed at him.   

"Ah, what would I do without my demon dad to bring me back down to reality real quick-like," Billy declared and got everyone laughing.

They rode on a good way beyond the old line-cabin. Since Billy and Nick spent the night there with Boomer and the twins, so they didn't bother to stop. They rode on until they passed some cowboys and cowgirls herding white faced cows from one pasture to another. They stopped and chatted with them for a bit until they moved most of the cattle and rode on. They passed a work crew cutting dead mesquite brush to load on the big ranch wagon pulled by a team of four horses. It was the crew which Earl and Harley-Buck were assigned with their keepers, and Billy and his posse stopped to pass the time and say 'hello.' Their lead cowboys Erin Mascaro and Blake were with them. They were gathering dry mesquite to take back to the ranch house for Saturday's barbecue, and to have some extra to take with them to Oregon on Sunday. Since it was to be another big Saturday at the ranch, Billy invited almost everyone on Captain Nick's ship to enjoy the music and afternoon. They rode on a bit further and came to the cliff where the big cave was which hid Captain Nick's ship. They didn't bother to go up the winding trail into the cave and rode down to the river to water the horses.

As Samson and Maybelle were drinking their fill, all of a sudden, a fine looking horse came running full-out down the high trail near the cave. It was getting late in the morning and the rattlesnakes were coming out of their cool dens to enjoy the warm day. She almost stepped on one, the big snake shook its rattle and startled her, she panicked, threw her rider, and began to run as fast as she could to get away from the sound of the rattle. The only problem was, she was headed straight for the limestone cliff which was a drop of about two hundred feet.

"I think you're about to get your sign, Kemosabe," Nick said and pointed to the trail above the one the pony was on. It was the trail they passed the mesquite gathering party, and they saw a near naked Harley-Buck Johnson running full-out down the trail on an intercepting vector to the stampeding pony's run. His sense of timing and trajectory were perfect. With one gigantic leap the big cowboy jumped and flew through the air, with his arms and legs flailing about to maintain his center of gravity, almost thirty feet to the lower trail and dropped into the saddle on the back of the runaway pony as easy as Roy Rogers dropped into Trigger's saddle off the hotel roof in them old Republic Westerns; except, they could hear Harley-Buck give out with a huge 'ooofff' sound. He quickly grabbed the pony's reins and pulled her up hard to stop her progress less than six feet from the edge of the cliff. The young mare slid another three feet and almost went over the edge; however, she managed to get her bearings and began to back up.

"Jesus! With a plug up his butt, that had to hurt," Billy exclaimed with concern.

"Either that or he just done come in his codpiece," Nick drawled, "We may never recover his butt-plug," he added.

"God! You're just awful, Tonto!" Billy exclaimed and laughed. He remembered Boomer telling him the same thing and laughed harder, "Harley-Buck Johnson's just been elevated to hero status in my eyes," Billy added.

"Did you get your message, Kemosabe?" Nick asked.

"Loud and clear, Tonto, without a doubt!" Billy exclaimed.

By the time Billy and his posse could ride over to the other side, Harley-Buck was off the mare and walking like a bowlegged old cowboy with the rickets. Blood was running down the inside of both legs.

"I'm sorry, Master Billy, I just couldn't let her die," Harley-Buck said sheepishly.

"What the fuck! Why the Hell are you sorry, Cowboy? For Christ sake, Harley, that's got to be the most moronically heroic act by any cowboy I ever done seen in my life – but, it's only moronic if'n you don't accomplish what you set out to do. Somehow you done it, so h'it weren't moronic a' tall, Son," Billy said. "Tonto, gimme' a hand. Boomer, escort my owner, his mate, and this mare back to the barn up to the ranch, and we'll meet you in the slave processing room," Billy said. He no sooner got the words out when Harley-Buck collapsed into a dead faint. Nick caught him in his arms. Earl Hickson and the crew they were working with arrived.

"Cancel them last requests. Boomer, you're with us. Throw Harley-Buck over your shoulder for transport back to the slave room. Earl, you and your men walk these three horses back to the barn near the ranch house, unsaddle them, feed them, and groom them real good. Give them an extra scoop of oats. Then you're off for the evening and all day tomorrow" Billy instructed, "We'll have your buddy back to you in a little while, Son," he added. "Oh, yes, and Blake, gimme' the key to Harley-Buck's harness and cock cage," Billy requested. Billy took off his shirt and stuffed it into his saddle bag. Nick handed Billy his shirt to do the same. They disappeared for a second then reappeared fully fledged. Earl Hickson never saw any of the men morph to their angel form before and was speechless. Billy and Nick spread their wings over Boomer holding Harley-Buck in his arms, and they disappeared only to reappear in the slave processing room.

"Where'd they go?" Earl asked.

"To the slave processing room where Master Billy ringed you and Harley-Buck, and where we groom you every morning and evening," Erin Mascaro explained, "Master Billy was waiting for later to expose you and Harley-Buck to some of the more exotic goings-on here at the ranch, but alas, shit happens," Erin added.

"Are they angels?" Earl asked.

"Yes and no. Yes, they're angels but not in the biblical sense. You'll come to understand the more you're around them. Our brother Bubba is one, too, Earl," Erin said quietly.

Earl was struck with a sudden awareness and deep sadness. Was Bubba his guardian angel and protected him all these years? He was convinced he wouldn't have made it through the war in the middle east if it weren't for Bubba. Was Bubba still looking out for him? Bubba never turned away from Earl even after Earl stole from Bubba and spurned his sexual advances. But Bubba didn't believe in religion or myths and superstitions. How could he be an angel? This was almost too much for him to handle. Suddenly, Earl Hickson had an epiphany. He was right where he should be at that very moment in time and space, and he sucked down hard on his butt plug like it was a pacifier for his other mouth. It no longer seemed like a burden. It was quickly becoming a great comfort for him. Even though he thought it was a great physical invasion of his personal privacy to be groomed and fitted with the anal apparatus, no one was rude or abusive with him. On the contrary, they went overboard to see to his care and comfort. It was the most attention Earl Hickson ever got in his life, and he realized he was growing used to it. He didn't know if that was good or bad, but for once in his life, he decided to go with the flow.

* * * * * * * *
Billy instructed Boomer to lay Harley-Buck down onto the padded worktable. They quickly undid his harness and removed his chastity cock-cage. Billy started to remove his butt plug but Nick stopped him. "I'd leave it until you get an inside picture, Son. It may start hemorrhaging. The plug may be putting pressure on a rupture and holding back the flow. See if you can stop the bleeding before you attempt to remove it," Nick advised.

"Good point, Pa. I done already tickled Doc Oatie, and he's on his way," Billy said respectfully to Nick. Nick smiled and took the small personal appellation as a compliment to his wisdom.

Oatie Breedlove appeared in the slave processing room in a great flash of light. "What a' we got here, Master Billy?" he took a look at Harley-Buck lying on the table before him slowly bleeding from his rectum. "Let's take a look. Have you taken his pulse?" Oatie asked.

"No, Doc, we just got him here," Billy replied, "I'll do it while you use the machine to peek inside," Billy said.

"Good," Oatie said as he situated the machine over Harley-Buck's lower extremity. "He focused the apparatus several times and sighed, "I can't see anything major torn. I think it just may be a polyp or two what got jolted so hard it caused them to bleed, but it seems to be slowing. I think we can remove the plug without increasing the flow; however, to be on the safe side, lets get a couple more cowboy-angels in here to give us more power and do a quick repair job before we relieve him of his training device," Oatie said.

"Good idea, Doc," Billy said, "his pulse is normal," he added.

"He may have passed out from fear of seeing the blood," Nick offered.

"Could be, 'cause I don't see nothing major wrong with him internally. It may have severely bruised him inside, but we can take care of that. We done got the power!" Oatie assured them.

Billy sent out an S.O.S. tickle to all cowboy-angels around the ranch area, and they started showing up one by one. Big Enoch, Moss, Nathan, Tron, Cowboy Andy, Clyde, Balthazar, Hank, Buck, Garth, Mack, and Jethro appeared in flashes of light. It looked like old-time flash cameras going off one after another. Jethro didn't bother to morph into his cowboy-angel persona and was in his Kagoli demon form. Billy didn't give a shit. He decided if Harley-Buck put two and two together, so be it. The big cowboy gained so much statue in Billy's eyes by a simple selfless act of compassion to save another critter's life, Billy didn't care if he knew. He didn't intend to go overboard, but he would accordingly accommodate the fine looking young rancher who was now his slave. Nick was right. Harley-Buck brought Billy the sign he needed. He was more sure than ever he was on the right trail going in the right direction. He was amazed by the dichotomy of a man who murdered another man then would risk his own life to save that of another life form. It was something Billy didn't want to dwell on, but made him wonder if he, himself, was ever betrayed so completely could he find it in his heart to kill another human – or would he turn the other cheek? He didn't want to pursue the matter further. He would cross that bridge only if he was forced to and had no other choice.

The cowboy-angels, and Jethro in his demon form, spread their wings and Oatie began to apply the healing rays they gathered into the lower abdomen of the slave lying on the table before them. Harley-Buck began to come around, but he was still a bit weak and groggy from the loss of blood to his brain. He lay there looking up at the handsome faces of the cowboys he knew, but now they had wings and looked like angels. He wondered if he died and went to heaven, but then as he focused better, he got a good look at the demon standing at his feet and his heart leaped to his throat. Was the demon waiting for the angels to heal him to take him to Hell? Surely not. He looked just like the demon he got a big crush on when he was taken to Hell, but he knew instinctively it wasn't the same demon.

He tried to move and raise up to get a better look at Jethro, when a big hand was gently placed on his chest, and he heard the voice of Billy Daniels say, "Easy, Buckaroo, give us a chance to heal you properly, and then we'll let you up. That fantastic leap of faith you done pulled off bruised your insides a bit and caused some bleeding – nothing serious – we just about got you back to normal, or as normal as you were before," Billy said and grinned.

Harley-Buck did as he was told and relaxed. Soon, Oatie grabbed his plug and swiftly removed it from his ass. There was no bleeding. Oatie turned on the fluoroscope and took another look into Harley-Buck's gut, but he could find nothing abnormal. The big cowboy was healed. They allowed Harley-Buck to sit up. He pointed to Jethro. "He's one a them demons I saw in Hell," he said, "What's he doing here?" he asked.

"He's my mate and soon to become my husband in another week or so. He's a buckaroo just like you, only he can morph into almost any shape he wants. I happen to think he's sexy as the devil that way and so does the folks he works with. I can change to look just like him. I was one of them devils you met in Hell. Watch!" Oatie said and morphed before Harley-Buck and the other men. Everyone laughed at the look on the big cowboy's face.

"Angels and demons. I'm confused. Neither one of you is the demon what was good to me and made me feel welcome in Hell. He was special. He didn't judge me. He treated me like I was his brother when I needed a helping hand. I'd give anything to see him again and my demon-dad, Satan, to tell them how much I appreciated their kindness and consideration," Harley-Buck said.

"Be careful what you wish for, Son, you just might end up belonging to him. You could become the slave of Satan and his demons," Tron Garrett said and the cowboy-angels laughed. "You wouldn't wanna' belong to no demon, would ju'?" Tron asked.

"I would gladly worship at his feet, Gentlemen," Harley-Buck insisted.

"We'll be sure and tell him, Cowboy," Oatie said, smiled, wished him well, took his mate's big hand, and they disappeared.

The other cowboy-angels came around to wish Harley-Buck well, and they soon were gone. They were down to Billy, Nick, and Boomer. Nick looked at Boomer and nodded to the door. They wished Harley-Buck a good day and told Billy they would see him for lunch up to the big house. They left. Billy and Harley-Buck were alone. Harley-Buck got a sad, forlorn look on his face like he was just about to burst into tears; like he was so close to grabbing the brass ring on the merry-go-round, but it alluded him – just barely. It was a mite too far away for him to grasp. He was sitting on the end of the table with his legs spread apart. Billy moved into them and stood close to him.

"Why so glum, Chum?" Billy asked.

"I was so close – I thought I almost found – oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand, Master Billy," he said.

"Put your arms around your master. He wants to give his hero-slave a kiss as a reward for his daring and bravery this afternoon," Billy said.

Harley-Buck did as his master told him. "Close your eyes, Cowboy," Billy said, and the cowboy complied. Billy started gently kissing the big man and was giving and taking only as much as he thought Harley-Buck could handle. Billy was loving and patient with him until he felt Harley-Buck start to respond on more than a single basis. He became sexually aroused and got roaring hard. The big buckaroo let himself go and suddenly stopped like he experienced a sacred epiphany.

"Holy Shit!" he whispered, "Ain't nobody kissed me like that since my demon kissed me that-away. I may be a big, dumb-ass, shit-kick'n cowboy, but I know'd the chances of somebody duplicate'n that feeling you just gimme' is zero to none. That's what that older cowboy meant about belonging to my demon. I already belong to you, Master Billy. Satan, ma' big daddy demon, the Devil his'self, done gimme' to you as your slave," Harley-Buck said as tears began to run down his face. Billy held him away from him and slowly morphed into his Kagoli demon form. "In the name of some unknown god, it was you, sir!" Harley-Buck exclaimed with joy in his voice. He jumped off the table, knelt before his master, and kissed his boots. "I meant what I said, Master Billy. I don't care if'n you's an angel or a demon, I will worship at your feet, sir," he said.

"To Hell with that! Your master wants you in his arms right now, Cowboy," Billy said and laughed.

They kissed again and Billy made it a good one. When they finally broke it off, Harley-Buck whispered, "I don't understand what's happening to me, Master Billy, but I know I'm home in your arms; in your presence I feel good and safe; I feel loved, wanted, and above all, needed. Please, I'm begging you, don't never send me away from you, sir, and I will strive hard to be your faithful servant as long as you need me," Harley-Buck swore.

"I promise I will never send you away from me, until you're ready to go out on your own if you choose. Once you serve your term with me, you may want to make other plans. If so, I will help you and assist you anyway I can. You're part of my family now, Harley-Buck. I want you to learn and grow into the buckaroo I know you can become. I want to give you some kind of award for bravery and heroism, but somehow I just don't think you're the kind of man what would want a medal," Billy said.

"A set of them fine looking horns you gimme' in Hell would do me right proud, Master Billy," Harley-Buck replied without taking a breath. He knew what he wanted. "Also a promise to take me for my first time," he added.

"You may wear my horns. I'll fix it so's you can wear them around the ranch, but you will also be able to make them go away when it's necessary to appear in human form," Billy said, but we need to talk about your grand opening. Don't you think your dad and mentor might like to have a say in it?" Billy asked.

"I ain't never thought about it, but I understand what you're say'n. It would be a strong bonding experience for us, sir," Harley-Buck replied.

"I understand. Then do we have an agreement? You get your horns to wear as a badge of honor from your master, and we'll talk more about your training and grand opening?" Billy asked.

"It's a deal, Master Billy," Harley-Buck said, spit in his hand, and offered it to Billy. Billy spit into his hand, and they shook on it – demon-cowboy to a horny buckaroo.

Billy waved his hand over Harley-Buck's handsome head, and he immediately began to grow a fine set of horns like Billy provided him before. The big cowboy could feel them growing and rushed to the full length mirror in the slave processing room. He took a good look, got a big shit-eating grin on his face, and his cock sprang to full salute. "Hot damn, now that's a look I can live with! I'm a real 'cow' boy now!" he exclaimed, "You couldn't a' gimme' no better reward, Master Billy," he insisted as he stomped around in his big buckaroo boots. He grabbed Billy and they joined together in a death defying kiss that sent them both over the hill. They reached climax together. Billy cleaned up his slave with his mouth and Harley-Buck returned the favor for his master. He never tasted a man's ejaculate before, but he wasn't about to let that little fact stand in his way of showing his master his love and appreciation.

Billy morphed back to his cowboy-angel persona and parked his wings. He helped Harley-Buck with his chastity cock-cage and his harness. Billy explained he didn't want the cowboy wearing his plug for the rest of the day and evening. He could wear it tomorrow, but he didn't want either slave wearing them while working anymore. They were to wear them only in the evenings and weekends while relaxing around the ranch. At times, ranch work can be perilous, and Billy didn't want another repeat of his morning. Everything turned out all right, but it just as easily might have become a disaster.

Billy sent word to the big house he would be having lunch with his slaves, and he would personally escort Harley-Buck Johnson wearing his new set of horns to the patio for his fellow slaves to see and admire. Billy wondered what kind of reception the big cowboy might receive. A few, who didn't know Harley-Buck, might think it was a put-down or a punishment for the cowboy's foolishly dangerous stunt. Billy planned to make sure no one took his slave's new horns as a punishment. To tell the truth, Billy loved them big horns on Harley-Buck. They gave him an extra sexy animal quality that defied definition but rounded him out perfectly. Billy could only describe it as wanting to hold, pet the big bull, whipping out his cock and masturbating while drinking-in the sight of him. To Billy's great pleasure, he found most of the others felt the same way he did. Everyone came to Harley-Buck and complimented him. Several were quite blunt in their envy and/or attraction for him. Billy could see what it was doing for Harley-Buck's self-image, and he let the big cowboy revel in his moment in the sun.

"Before anyone gets the wrong idea, the horns my new slave is wearing were given to him as a gift from his master to wear as a badge of honor for the courage and heroism he displayed today saving the life of one of our horses on the ranch. I was ready to give him a medal, shorten his period of training, or consider anything he might suggest, but he didn't want any of them things I mentioned. He caught sight of one of our cowboys, Jethro, my building manager, in his demon form and asked if I would give him a set of horns unique for him. So I did, and I will have to say, I think they're quite becoming on him. Just stay out of his way," Billy allowed and everyone laughed.

The insane thought crossed Billy's mind they could possibly, one day, have their own running-of-the-bulls through the streets of Mason where bulls like Harley-Buck, Elmer, Tommy Lee Jones, and several other men he could think of, were let loose to run from the sex starved cowboys to track them down, disable them, to have their wicked way with them until their lusts were sexually sated. Then they would make sweet love, let them loose, throw a feast, and party together for days.

The slaves loved the fact their master, for whatever reason, was having lunch with them. Their lunch consisted of two cups of slave chow and a nutrient biscuit, and Billy got in line with the rest of them to get his. He sat in the middle of the patio and was soon joined by his main posse who followed their master's lead and came to have their lunch with him and the slaves. It was a great time and Billy answered their questions and patiently listened to their wishes for the future. He told them about the entertainment they were going to have Saturday, and they were looking forward to it. Part of the message the ancients sent Billy was never to become so self-important he couldn't communicate and commingle comfortably with those under him.

"C'ain't wait for ma' dad to see ma' new horns," Harley-Buck said as if talking to himself.

"I ain't say'n a word to him, Son. I'll let you tell him yourself," Billy said, "As a further treat, you said something about getting to see your demon dad, old Satan. Would you like to visit with him for a while this evening?" Billy asked.

"You can arrange it, Master Billy?" Harley-Buck asked in awe.  

"If'n I can give you a fine set of horns to wear, I think I might be able to conjure-up the old demon for a visit from the fiery pits," Billy assured him.  

"I'd like that very much, sir," Harley-Buck said.

Billy didn't understand Harley-Buck's fascination for demon figures at the moment, but it became more clear to him as time went on. It had little to do with angels or demons. It just so happened, the demons came to the big cowboy's rescue and did more for him during a time of great emotional upheaval, self-doubt, confusion, and turmoil than any of the classic examples of understanding and giving a hand to your fellow man in need might cover; be it ever so small a thing as simply listening to another when they are in pain from some actions they had no control over. Unless one finds an anchor to reality under undue stress, they may become lost to insane ideas of their own invention and those of others with more nefarious purposes. Somehow, the switch in Harley-Buck's brain flipped to see the demons as his saviors who took him under their black leather wings and gave him a new lease on life – as a slave to a good man who could be an angel at times and a demon in the sack at another. What man should be so lucky to find an equal measure of both in one? Harley-Buck was hoping for a trick shot on a seven/ten split.

His slave brother and living-space buddy, Earl Hickson, didn't know what to think about Harley-Buck's new horns, but his own cock forced him to admit they added a stunning sexual image to the big cowboy which kept Earl uneasy when he was around him. Usually Earl was rather aloof and standoffish around people he didn't know, but he had time to get to know his bunk-mate pretty well before Harley-Buck's heroic rescue of the runaway horse. Now Earl was in awe of Harley-Buck and acted like a tongue-tied young grade school kid hanging around his first crush. It came to Earl in a rush, there was no such thing as reason or understanding anymore; the world was coming at him at an accelerated rate and passing him by quicker than he could grasp bits and pieces to cling to. It was so much simpler when it was just him and Bubba. Earl was at once attracted to Harley-Buck as he was jealous of the big man's more easy acceptance of their circumstances than he was able to enjoy. It was like Harley-Buck was a pig in a wallow, getting life all over himself, and Earl was only tiptoeing around the perimeter. Is big always better? Not necessarily. It depends on your perspective.

That evening, after Earl and Harley-Buck were processed for the evening, Billy came around to their bunks. "Come with me bull. Our master, Satan, got word you were a hero today and spared one of his beloved creatures from a gruesome death. The Devil his'self, Old Scratch, wants to thank you and bounce his boy on his big knee or whatever pops up. Are you up for it, slave?" Billy asked forcefully but grinned from ear to ear.

Harley-Buck fell to his knees and once again paid homage to Billy's boots. "I am so ready, Master Billy. Thank you, sir, for arranging it for me," he said.

"You realize we have to go to Hell to have an audience with him? What if the old bastard falls in love with you and decides he wants to keep you with him?" Billy asked and grinned again.

"Can you whip him, Master Billy?" Harley-Buck asked.

"Oh, Hell no! You saw how big he is. You done sat on his lap before. Besides, he's much more powerful than me and my brothers. We couldn't defeat him in a fair fight, and you know the Devil always fights dirty," Billy poured on the cowboy bullshit.

"Nevertheless, I will have to take the chance, Master Billy. It's the honorable thing to do," Harley-Buck responded seriously, "If my demon-dad, my savior, calls for me, I must go to him, pay my respects, and thank him for giving me to you as your slave, sir," Harley-Buck declared strongly like a noble knight-errant what found his holy grail.

"Excellent! Them's the words I wanted to hear. They be the words of a true hero and knight of the round-table where every man is free to speak his mind without censure or rebuke. You will be joining a noble order this evening, Son. The order of the cowboy demons and angels who share and bathe together in the baths of Hell where you may relax and find your bliss, your heaven on Earth, or your personal Hell depending on your point of view," Billy emoted and grinned again, "Ready, my faithful bull?" Billy asked again.

"Your faithful bull is ready, Master," Harley-Buck replied.

* * * * * * *
The cowboys of Billy's family were gathered in the large steam baths off the dungeon. Almost everyone was there except for the LaFleurs. Billy instructed his crew in the castle to rig up the red lights again and explained they were planning a surprise for Harley-Buck Johnson. They wanted to reveal to him the truth about their manufactured Hell and the demons. The castle people came to love Captain Nick and Billy's sense of humor and would work their butts off to see every detail was taken care of. The giants were instructed to come down to the baths morphed into their demon personas, and Gog in particular, as Satan, would be entertaining his adopted son, Harley-Buck. Everyone was primed for it, and the stage was set. Every man who knew how to morph into a demon did so to enjoy the warm waters and engage in some idle talk while drinking herbal tea.

Billy took Harley-Buck to the slave processing room off the newer barn, took his shirt off and winged up before his slave. Harley-Buck boldly took his master into his arms and gently kissed him. Billy was so moved by the big cowboy's tenderness and trust he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He decided the truth was always the right thing and while he was hoping to wait until later, because of Harley-Buck's heroism, it seemed more apropos for the moment.

"Whatever happens this evening, please remember, I'm your faithful slave, Master Billy," he said quietly.

"And whatever happens this evening, I want you to remember, what I'm doing is dropping all barriers between us and exposing myself and my family to you as we really are, my faithful slave," Billy replied.

"So be it," he said.

"Hosanna!" Billy said quietly.

"Hosanna, in the highest!" Harley-Buck returned equally as quiet.

Billy raised his wings over his slave and in a flash of light they transported to the dungeon on Captain Nick's ship. The red lights were awesome and there was a lot more steam and fog filling the surrounding areas to give the dungeon an air of mystery and suspense like a cold, damp night in London when Jack the Ripper was at large – except the dungeon was hot and sultry like a steamy night in the tropics.

"Don't Hell have more rooms than this one?" Harley-Buck asked innocently.

It caught Billy off guard, and he doubled over in laughter. "Yes! Yes, many more but this just happens to be the one where mortals from Earth come before being allowed to progress from this point by Lucifer his'self – your big surrogate demon daddy," Billy explained and bit his tongue to keep from laughing again. Billy had to give it to the big cowboy, he was bright and observant. They could hear voices and laughter in the distance. Billy took Harley-Buck's hand and led him like a lost lamb through the red lights and steam until they came to the hot tubs. There were only a few of the cowboys who didn't morph and they invited the male Sun Bears in their demon form. The cute little critters were standing in the hot water on the stone benches. They couldn't sit down or the water would almost be over their head unless they sat in a brother demon's lap, and several were taking advantage of their larger demon brother's goodwill. Harley-Buck's eyes grew big as saucers, then he smiled. He felt like he was home again.

As the mist of the steam cleared around the tubs, Billy's family got a good look at him and his hero-slave wearing his new horns. "Would ju' look at them horns, Master Bull. They be a fine looking pair of horns, Son," Hank declared.

"I agree, Hank. You look really good with them horns, Son, and don't never let nobody tell you different. I'm almost jealous of them. C'ain't says I wouldn't mind having me a pair of 'um ma'self, if'n my husband and wife thought I should have them," Elmer Breedlove said.

"Rox and I wouldn't care, Master Bull, if you want a nice pair of horns like those. The only horn we're concerned about is the one hanging between your legs," Vox replied and got applause, whistles, and laughter from the group.

"Has his holy-less-ness arrived?" Billy asked and several of the men laughed.

"No, but we understand he's ready to make an entrance at any moment. He's on his way down to Hell even as we speak," Captain Nick replied, "See them two little men with them trumpets over there by the door to the stairs, they's suppose to blow them things when he's about to arrive," Nick said.

"Don't Satan live down here in the heat?" Harley-Buck asked.

"Goodness no, Son. It gets too damn hot down here for him. You know how big people suffer worse than smaller ones in a heat wave on Earth. He just comes down on business or to process new slaves when they come in. He assigns them god-awful jobs depending on how rotten they were in life, but surprisingly enough, many of them are better jobs and have better benefits than the big corporations pay their employees on Earth," Nick carefully explained. There was several titters went around the room, but for the most part, the other men played along.

Gog and his men with Erin and Blue came down the back stairs from their apartments. The two dwarfs tried to play a trumpet fanfare but must have gotten mixed messages or didn't know how to play them very well. It sounded like the trumpet player from the Napoleon scene from Time Bandits. It was a spirited attempt but fell flat. The men snickered quietly. Gog, as the great demon-lord Satan, stopped and looked at them and smiled. "I swear you men get better every time you announce my arrival. I'm so proud of you, my little lambs," the huge horned creature gushed.

It was all the men could do to keep from drowning in the tubs from suppressed laughter. For his size, Gog could be a great clown and found humor in everything. He was much like Billy and his posse. Nothing was sacred to him or beyond poking a little fun at. You never knew what was going to come out of his mouth next. He became a joy to have around and always had a good word for everyone. He was a big hit with the villagers and the cowboys loved him.

"Ah, and my eyes have just been treated with a vision of a stout and comely male beauty. My eyes have been hurting me all damn day from the enlarged sulfur count in the air down here; however, I no longer feel any discomfort as I cast my sight upon my handsome boy – my beloved son, Harley-Buck Johnson, Junior. And I ask you gentlemen, have you ever seen a more handsome and sexy human with such a fantastic set of horns his Earthly master bestowed upon him? Only my boy, a true son of Satan, a hero to his world, could wear a set of horns like those and look so ravishing," Gog gushed, "Come to your big daddy Satan's arms, my handsome boy, and let me hold you. Let me whisper oriental-style compliments to you – hot, sweet, and nasty," he invited.

As the evening progressed and the men drank several mugs of Hank and Buck's special herb tea, everyone began to get very mellow. Harley-Buck never experienced the tea before and wasn't prepared for the effect; however, he knew he was feeling different – certainly more relaxed and open to anything. He never felt so included and appreciated by another group of men. With the older cowboys of Mason County, he formed a pseudo-relationship based upon their nefarious purposes of revenge. They were hard, calculating men who had little humor or natural sense of camaraderie about them. On the contrary, the diverse group of cowboys, cowboy-angels, and demons around the pool were interacting like they were a close-knit family group and concerned about everyone. It was something Harley-Buck knew he missed in his younger life and something he very much needed.

He was mostly engaged by Gog in his demon-daddy Satan persona, the other giants, and their contingency of larger than average men. He began to notice, as the evening progressed, more of the cowboys were morphing back into their human forms. Even the delightful small Sun Bear critters were morphing back to their original form. Harley-Buck decided they were just as appealing either way, but there was a softness about them in their natural state which was overwhelmingly cute and cuddly. After a while, even the other giants morphed to their original state and only Gog was left, still in his demon form. Harley-Buck looked around the huge pool and back to his demon dad. "I'm really dense, ain't I, Dad?" Harley-Buck said as he looked into Satan's red eyes.

"No, not dense, my handsome son, just deceived. You're far too intelligent and compassionate to be dense, but anyone can be cleverly misled. We brought you here to explain and offer our humble justification for our actions. No apologies. We done what we had to do. We had to assume roles to protect Master Billy's operations on the ranch, and yet, we felt compelled to rescue you and save the life of Clarence Womack without drawing attention to the Daniels. What better way than to create an artificial situation which was close to the town-folk's imaginations of myths and superstitions they believed in for years without any evidence? Unfortunately, because of your involvement in the situation, we had to deceive you to have you report back to them a story to support their fear of superstitions. The government does it all the time with disinformation about things they don't want the public to know about. However, that don't make it right. The difference is, we're gathered here tonight to rectify and gently correct your thoughts about angels, demons, heaven, and hell," Gog said, "Did you really think, as bad-ass as them religious folks preach about the devil, he would have any compassion?" he asked.

"I wondered about it. All I can say is you and Master Billy shook my confidence in the stuff I heard or read about religion, and I began to think maybe it wouldn't be so bad to play for the other team – at least the demons let me see them and reasoned with me. I never got no visits from any gods or Jesus. Not a one of my prayers were answered. It was disconcerting for me. I found myself falling in love with demons. You make the most convincing Satan I could possibly imagine," Harley-Buck allowed.      

"Why, thank you, Son, that's perhaps the nicest compliment this old giant's ever received," Gog said.

"What's your real name, sir?" Harley-Buck asked.

"Billy Gog Groats," Gog replied.

"What a wonderful name. Mean'n no disrespect, sir, it sounds like a character from a children's fairy tale book. Can I see you in your natural form?" he asked.

"Is it all right for me to morph back, Master Billy?" Gog asked his master.

"Lord no! If he sees what you really look like, we won't be able to get you two apart with with a wrecking bar," Billy said firmly and everyone laughed around the pool. After the laughter died down, Billy spoke again, "Sure, go ahead-on, Big'un. We done brought him here tonight to bring him into the family, and he'll learn the rest as he comes along. His daddy will be his family mentor, but you can be his go-to man in our family. Besides, I'm learning more about punishment slaves, and I'm flexible enough to make changes in my thinking," Billy added.

"No more grand openings?" Elmer asked.

"I ain't saying 'no,' but more private. Bubba and Boomer set the bar, but I don't think it would work for every slave and his mentor. We've yet to find a mentor for Earl Hickson," Billy replied.   

"I wouldn't mind being his mentor, Master Billy, if you find me worthy," Cowboy Andy spoke up.

"Of course you're worthy, Andy. You're always so quiet, but I know if I give you a job to do, it will be done on time and done right the first time. Have you said anything to Earl?" Billy asked.

"He wouldn't before asking you first, Kemosabe," Captain Nick reminded him quietly.

"I knew that, Tonto!" Billy exclaimed nervously, and the men laughed at him. "You know Earl best, Bubba, what do you think?" he asked.

"I think Cowboy Andy would be perfect for the job, but I don't think either one of you should approach Earl. Earl can't decide which boot to pull on first in the mornings. Don't give him no choice. You's the master. Just assign Andy to be Earl's mentor, and hope for the best. As far as I'm concerned, Andy is the best buckaroo for the job. Let Earl learn to trust somebody outside his own little world," Bubba said, "And if I had to turn my brother over to another man, my choice would be Cowboy Andy," he added.

"Hear! Hear!" agreed Tron Garrett.

"I agree with Bubba," Nathan said

"I'll take you to him tomorrow morning, Andy. I'll give you a key to his harness and chastity cage, and you can take it from there. If you feel you need any instructions or help, go to Bubba and get a copy of his DVD's with his old man and review them. Each slave will be different and you may have some other ideas for Earl, but run them by Bubba or me first," Billy said, "Bubba decided to wait for what he and Orville called their grand opening, but I'm flexible with that. If you decide you'd like to use your cock to train him along with the plugs, let's talk about it. The main thing to remember is his mentor or me are the only two who will allow him to ejaculate under any circumstances. I want every slave to become dependent on their mentor or me to provide release for them – at least during the training period," Billy added.

"Does that apply for my boy?" Gog asked and grinned.

"Yes, but he ain't had a session wiff' his family mentor yet. If you want to take him to your bed and offer him relief this e'nin, I'll give you my key to his cock-cage. He done already come once't this afternoon when we's sharing a brotherly kiss, and it became a bit more than brotherly between us," Billy confessed and laughed. "We's like two old maids bump'n pussies," Billy couldn't help add and got a laugh from everyone. "It was them damn horns what done it!" Billy exclaimed. "You gonna' morph or not, Big' un?" Billy asked Gog.

"Yes, sir, Master Billy, I's just wait'n for you to finish. I didn't wanna' draw no attention away from you," Gog said humbly.

"Can I get a round of applause for our beloved giant in his Satan persona? We couldn't a asked for no better devil," Billy prompted and started clapping himself. Everyone around the pool joined him as they watched Gog morph back to his giant form.

Harley-Buck stood naked in the pool before him as he watched the huge giant change form. The big cowboy couldn't believe what a good looking giant Gog was. He was even bigger than he was in his demon form. "Fuck me in the butt!" Harley-Buck exclaimed, "Amazing!" he added. "My demon daddy just become my giant mentor. How lucky can one cowboy get?" he said and everyone laughed at his enthusiasm. Gog was an impressive giant.

"Yeah, well don't go put'n your brand on his big butt, Buckaroo. Bossman Randy done got a prior claim on that giant's heart, and he's got two mean-ass bulls to back him up," Billy said and laughed.

"Hosanna!" said Elmer.

"Hosanna, in the highest," the others echoed.

The evening came to an end and Billy gave his permission for Harley-Buck to stay the night with Gog, and he would gather him in the morning after breakfast. Billy gave Gog a key to Harley-Buck's cock-cage and told him to keep it, they had several more in case of emergencies. That evening, after a light supper, Billy and his family retired to the line-cabin. The men had enough herbal tea. They were feeling playful and continued their partying. Boomer and the twins went off to the loft and Billy and Nick were alone. They wasted no time getting to bed and making love. After a rousing romp in the hay, they were exhausted from the exciting day and fell into a deep sleep.

Billy had a most unusual dream. He was standing before the stage they built for the music concerts, and he saw it was much too small for the projected future. He watched in awe as renovations took place enlarging the stage in front, widening it, and building it deeper into the barn to store large instruments out of the weather. It was like watching a time-lapse video of a demolished building played in reverse as he watched all the boards and pieces go together to create just what he needed. There were several remarkable features including solid sound baffles which would direct the sounds up and out into the barnyard, and four solid windows across the top which would open up and out by counterweights to allow the sound to pass the upper wall. << Do it tomorrow! >> he heard a voice say.

<< No, no! No time tomorrow. Too many other things to get ready, >> he replied.

<< Remember your owner's advice: delegate. We are sending the Bossman the same dream. He only needs your approval, >> the voice said.

<< It must be important. I will comply. Bossman will have my approval. Thank you, >> he said.

<< You're welcome, >> was the last transmission.  

* * * * * * *
The next morning the McMartin family and the Bossman were waiting for Billy and his family when they arrive at the big house. After hugs and kisses, they went into breakfast together.

"Did you get a message last night, Bossman?" Billy asked passing the biscuits.

"You know I did, big Brother. They done told you I'd get one, except mine was bit different from yours. I got a commission to build the darn thing. It won't take us long. A couple of hours. We should be finished by noon at the latest. I need Garth and Mack, Cowboy Andy, Clyde, Balthazar, Harley-Buck, Earl, Gog, Joe, Willie, Big Blue, Erin, Jethro, Bubba's Brute, Boomer, Caesar, Ludo, and ma' main man, Uncle Tom," Randy rattled off. "We still got them extra sheets of three-quarter inch plywood stored in the new barn?" he asked.

"Yeah, last I checked they's still out there," Billy replied.

"They're out there. We had a lot left over from the last bunkhouse project. They's listed in the last inventory. There should be enough for Randy's project," Tron Garrett said and Moss agreed.

"Why do you need Harley-Buck?" Billy asked with a grin.

"I was told to include him and Earl Hickson. I's just following orders. Besides, that big buckaroo done went and spent the night in my favorite giant's arms, and I'm gonna' work his cowboy butt off this morning to pay for it," Randy declared and laughed. Everyone around the table laughed. They knew Randy's love for Gog. "The real truth is, that cowboy's got major construction experience, and he's a demon with a nail gun. You don't want to come around 'nat buckaroo when he's got a nail gun in his hand, and I hear tell he's almost as accurate with them nail guns as he is his six-shooters," Randy said and laughed again. Everyone around the table was about to fall on the floor laughing at him.

"What are you gonna' do with the Yamaha while you play Mr. Lego?" Billy asked.

"Fly it to Uncle Tom's warehouse so's Mr. Jones can have one complete run-through with the orchestra tomorrow morning; then fly it back for the performance," Randy said.

"Good thinking. You gonna' provide us a gate?" Billy asked.

"For you, Uncle Tom, and Mr. Jones. My cowboy-angels will transport the Yamaha," Randy replied.

"Your cowboy-angels?" Billy teased.

"They is when they's work'n for me on a project as directed by them ancient critters, big Brother!" Randy exclaimed and nailed Billy to the barn door. Everyone laughed.

"Hear! Hear! A big 'Hosanna' for the Bossman!" Nathan exclaimed.

"Hosanna, in the highest!" everyone around the table replied, then laughed at Billy.

* * * * * * *
After breakfast, Billy and what was left of his posse, Hank, Buck, Nick, Poly, Cass, Jack McCormack, and Etienne went through a gate and appeared just outside Stan and Cletus's cabin in Oregon. The men were just getting up and Stan put on a pot of coffee. Billy brought along some Hosanna Cakes for them and their watchers to enjoy. Billy hailed Erasmus as they walked to the front porch. "Hello, Erasmus, how are you and your fine looking family this morning?" he asked.

"Good, Master Billy. Master Stan brought us a nice meal last night, and we slept well, thank you," the big beast replied, "Where is our watcher-brother, Boomer?" he asked.

"Back at the ranch helping Bossman Randy with a project. He sends his best wishes," Billy said.

They clomped up onto the porch and Cletus met them at the door. "You's two days early, but it don't matter. You's always welcome anytime," he said.

"We wanted to come to see what we should bring Sunday. We'll tell you and Stan what we can offer and we'll bring it along. Bossman Randy's got a brand new app for his Shedu program, and he's just dying to try it out. He can open a gate big enough to drive a Sherman Tank through and we plan to bring the school bus and two of the ranch vans loaded with helpers and food," Billy said.

They sat down around the picnic table, drank coffee, and had Hosanna Cakes while they discussed food and musicians. Billy said he planned to bring Etienne and his dad and he named several others he planned to bring along for catering help and musical backup if needed. Cletus said Stan told everyone they would be serving File' Gumbo and crayfish.

"You got the make'ns?" Billy asked.

"We ain't even got a Crawdad," Cletus lamented.

"We'll bring what you need. Make a list and we'll get it. Can you make it here?" Billy asked.

"No, all we got is that old wood stove, and it's impossible to cook on without burning the food," Cletus frowned.

"We'll get the Boudreauxs to make ten gallons of Gumbo and bring it and the steamed crawdads along. We planned to bring our barbecue drums and cook brisket over mesquite and have deer meat chili available if they want it. Also several gallons of German potato salad. Will that be enough?" Billy asked.

"Good Lord, I should think so, Master Billy. If not, they know it's first come first serve and the town folks will bring their receipts for their last month's light bill as their ticket for the food line. Out-of-towners will be allowed to buy a ticket for food after everyone in town are fed," Cletus allowed.

"How many town-folks are there?" Billy asked.

"Less than thirty, sir, and a few might not come. Five or six are older and can't get around none too good," Stan replied.  

They sat around and talked for a couple of hours. Hank and Buck were making notes about what they would need. When both parties decided they pretty well covered everything, Billy and his men left through the gate. They promised they would be back Sunday morning early. They planned to go to church, but Oregon was two hours earlier than Texas and they would arrive around ten o'clock. Cletus and Stan thanked them and hugged each man several times.

* * * * * * *
Billy's posse returned to the ranch and everyone was down at the old barn watching the men work. They decided to walk down and see how they were coming. They were stunned at what they got done. Randy didn't exaggerate about Harley-Buck's powers as a worker. They no sooner sat a board into place when he came along behind them and secured it in nothing flat. They were almost finished. The rest of the men and giants stood together looking upon their work and admiring it.

"Holy shit!" Billy exclaimed, "It turned out better than I imagined. The front drop-windows are fantastic and the internal shell is perfect," he lauded the Bossman and the workers.

"H'it ain't finished yet," Randy said.

"It's fine like it is, Tiger. What more can you do?" Billy asked.

"The fun part," Randy replied.

"The fun part!" Billy exclaimed, "I'm afraid to ask," he allowed nervously.

"You ain't even looked at chore' apps have you, big Brother?" he asked.

"I ain't had time, little Brother. You know I leave that up to ma' Ramrod," Billy replied and laughed.

"Watch and wonder!" Randy exclaimed as he waved his little hand before the new stage. Instantly, the entire project was covered with a mahogany veneer. There were gasps from every corner of the gathered crowd. Everyone was amazed the young boy held the power to change the look of the performance stage with the wave of his hand.

"That's frick'n fantastic, Cowboy. That certainly tarts it up a bit. It's incredible," Billy said and everyone applauded.

"We ain't through yet. You gotta' decide between fifteen veneers, Maestro Banzai," Randy said to Billy.

"You be shit'n me, Buckwheat!" Billy accused and grinned.

Randy waved his hand again, and the veneer changed to a light oak. The boy didn't stop until he ran through all fifteen.

"I don't know, Son. I'm rocked on ma' boot heels. You been playing with this longer than me. You got any suggestions? You got me over a barrel here. Can I get some input from my family?" he asked.

"Wouldn't touch it wiff' a ten foot pole!" exclaimed Nathan.

"I heard that!" agreed Tron and everyone laughed.  

"The darker the wood the harder it is, and the sharper sound you're gonna get, but dark wood makes it look smaller. Light veneer is softer and will cut off some of the higher frequencies. Several of the light oaks are hard enough they won't absorb too much and will kick it back to the front of the stage, but not enough to cause an echo. Five choices are in the middle range. I'll show you them five again," Randy said and flashed the first and more slowly moved through the other four.

"Lets see the second one again, Pod'na," Billy said, and Randy complied.

"Damnation that's pretty. Anybody got any input? Speak now or forever hold your peace!" Billy hollered to the assembled crowd. No one spoke up. "Done!" Billy exclaimed and Randy left it as it was. Everyone applauded to show their approval. Billy noticed several of the men slipping Randy money. "What the Hell?" he asked.

"He won the pool. The Bossman done said you'd pick that one," Gog replied and everyone laughed.

Billy grabbed Randy up into his arms, hugged, and kissed him in front of everyone. "Ya' done good, Buckaroo. Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Billy asked.

"Not lately, but who's counting?" Randy replied and everyone laughed.

"Well, let it be known this cowboy is proud of his little brother," Billy yelled at the top of his voice.

"What time is it? We got to gate over to The Woodlands for my furry dad and mom, our guest artist, and his boss," Randy said.

Billy looked at his watch. "Damn, it's nearly eleven, and I told them we'd be there. C'moan, little brother, fling wide them infernal gates! Let's us cowboys mount up and ride!" Billy exclaimed.

End of Chapter 59 ~ Seek Him Who Maketh The Seven Stars
Copyright ~ © ~ 2013 ~ 2014 ~ 2015 ~ Waddie Greywolf
All Rights Reserved
Mail to: waddiebear@yahoo.com
WC = 16024
09/20/2013
05/19/2014

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