The Sexual Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Part 04
Written by nick55 'at' kansas.net and sean_dude88 'at' yahoo.com
This is a story based loosely on characters created by Samuel Clemens (better known as Mark Twain) circa 1884. The plot borrows from "Further Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" by Gregg Matthews (Crown Publishers, 1983, now out of print but still available on the net from Barnes & Noble). Apologies are extended to any heirs of Mr. Clemens or Mr. Matthews who might read this.
In this story, Huck is 16, and the story takes place in 1849.
As for Huck's new friends, Jesse and Jimmy, they are new creations. They are 17 and 13, although Jesse looks older, and Jimmy maybe looks a bit younger.
Note: Blacks will be referred to as "Niggers" in this story, or sometimes as Boys, because it is a period piece and that is what Huck and company would've called them. It doesn't mean we're racist. OK?
There's no sex in this episode, as we need to develop the plot and this is getting kind of long (4 pages or so), but there should be sex in the next episode. Go back and read the first episode again if you need sex.
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As Jimmy and I gathered our things, I realized it wouldn't do for me to get a horse from the livery stable - I was too well known, and that's the first place the sheriff would look. True, Muff Potter was working at the stable now that he'd sobered up, and I knew he wouldn't intentionally say anything, seeing as how Tom and I had saved him from a similar fix, but would there be anyone else there? The sheriff would do his best to follow me, and if he put bloodhounds on me, he'd likely catch me. There was only one thing for me to do - go down river. I gave Jimmy $200 to give to Jesse, figuring it would be $40 to $50 each for the horses - mine would allegedly be a pack horse - and the rest would be for supplies. I'd take my skiff and head down to Rocky Point, about 6 or 7 miles, maybe 10, and we'd meet there. Ol' Jim knew a Nigger blacksmith there that could help us.
When I got to the river, I saw it could work to my advantage all right, if I survived it. It had been a hard winter and the spring thaw hadn't been around long, as this was only late March. The river was mean looking, with chunks of ice floating on it. If I played it right, folks might think I'd drowned; then again, I might be lucky if I didn't. The river looked like it was flowing pretty swift, and if I did have any trouble, that cold water wouldn't be forgiving. Course the hangman's noose wouldn't be forgiving either. Well, between a rope and the river, I'd take the river. There was one advantage - the ground was near frozen, so I wouldn't leave tracks.
I got in my skiff and pushed off. Some of the chunks of ice looked like bergs, and I was mighty glad we was all goin' the same way - I reckon I'd have capsized and drowned sure if I'd tried to head upstream. Heading downstream, I traveled faster than the ice, so the danger was that I might run into one of the chunks ahead, not that they'd run into me from behind; I could see landing could be tricky, though, especially as it was getting dark. I was glad for the snow on the banks reflecting the dying daylight, otherwise they might have been hard to see.
I'm not really sure how I done it, but I got the skiff run onto a soft bank 'bout 100 yards south of the Point. Sure enough, there's Jesse with a fine horse, Jimmy with a colt or pony, and Ol' Jim's Nigger friend with a mule for me and one to take him back to town. The Nigger give me his hand, the first one apart from Ol' Jim to do that, and says he'll get word to Ol' Jim why I had to run off. (Then Jim can tell Tom.) He says all the Niggers for miles around know I'd never done murder and never would. He says they'll do all they can to help me if I ask 'cause they all know Jim and how I helped him get his freedom, so the least they can do is help me keep mine. I almost wanted to paint myself black - here all the Niggers is on my side, and most everyone White wants me hung! (I was pretty well 'hung' sexually, and I liked to stretch my cock now and then, but that weren't the part of me that anyone around, other than Jimmy and maybe Jesse, wanted to stretch! And I liked my neck as it was!)
We headed toward St. Joseph, nearly due west from the Hannibal area where we were, about 200 miles away. Once the sun went down, the night got bitter cold, but we rode on, trying to leave civilization behind. Out here in the country, there was still snow, in drifts, and that hindered us some. I seen Ol' Jim's friend done right to give me a mule - it was a mite slower than the horses, but steadier. I was hoping to put 40 miles between me and St. Petersburg before I stopped for the night, but once the sun went down the night got bitter cold. I could see Jimmy shivering on his colt, and I guess Jesse noticed it too, cause he spoke up to take our minds off it.
"Don't you feel just like a knight in armor setting off on a quest?" said Jesse.
"A knight in amour?" said Jimmy.
"Well that too," laughed Jesse.
"What are you two talkin' about?" I asked.
"Well," Jesse explained, " wearing armor, like I said, is sort of like wearing a pot-belly stove. Knights, which are kind of soldiers, wear it to protect themselves when they have sword fights and battles and go on quests."
"I wish I had some stove armor on right now," said Jimmy, "then I'd have a fire in it to warm my backside."
"Oh Jimmy," his brother laughed, "you'd burn your britches!"
"At least I wouldn't freeze! How you reckon knights kept warm?"
"Maybe they did have a hot coal or two, but I reckon that's were the amour came in."
"What's this 'amour' you've mentioned?" I asked.
Jesse explained "That means love. 'Amour' is a French word, and folks say French is the language of love. Course it's also the language of cussing, which is why folks will say 'pardon my French,' so go figure! Anyway, sometimes when knights would go on quests, I reckon it was the amour - the flames of love, the heat of passion - that kept them warm."
"Maybe that would work for them," I said, "but I'm for stopping and getting out the blankets, then we best look for a barn where we can stop for the night."
"Now there's a fella with sense!" remarked Jimmy, approvingly.
We came across a farm with a barn some distance from any house (I thought it might be more like a pasture shelter than a true barn but it would give us a roof over our heads if nothing more) and headed for it. Soon as we got there, I could see it was like a dairy barn so as to take care of the cattle in the pasture where they were. There were stalls for milking, there were feed bags, and there was hay for bedding or whatever. There were a few cows and calves in the barn, to protect them from the weather. There was a loft with cleaner hay in it that was going to be our bedding for tonight. We put the horses and mule in stalls, unsaddled them, brushed 'em, fed 'em, and put the horse blankets over 'em. Then we climbed up into the loft and snuggled into the hay there, Jimmy in the middle between Jesse and me so he'd be the warmest, since he'd been the coldest on the trip. It was cold enough we didn't undress.
Jimmy soon fell asleep with his head on my shoulder, but I weren't sleepy yet, so I fell to talking with Jesse.
"Wish I could get my pipe and have a smoke," said I.
"You smoke?" asked Jesse. "I've only seen old men do it."
"My pap taught me. He smoked liked a chimney, and drank like a fish, and he wanted company. I never took to drink the way he did 'cause I seen what it could do (pap were one mean drunk) , but there's nothing quite like a pipe at the end of a weary day when you can puff and rest up and know you don't have to work till morning."
"My ma used to say smokin' and drinkin' were devil's work," said Jesse.
"Well she might be right on the drinkin', if you do too much anyway, but the smokin' is alright biblical."
"It is?"
"I reckon Solomon must've smoked; he goes back thousands of years. He were a great thinker and I reckon it were the pipe that helped him to sort things out."
"Who else you reckon was a biblical smoker?"
"Well Moses, he must 'ave smoked even more 'n Pap. What you think he did with that burnin' bush? Moses smoked it! And when he led the children of Israel out of Egypt with a pillar of smoke, that was his pipe blazing away like a steamboat's chimney."
"Well that makes more sense than what folks say about God sendin' that fire and smoke."
"That's 'cause preachers are partial to the King James translation - which is just riddled with mistakes. To get the accurate story you want the Queen Anne version."
"The Queen Anne version?"
"I think that were his daughter, not his wife. Think on it Jesse. Who got time to do accurate translatin'? Not the king, he's busy runnin' the country. But his daughter, before she become queen, well she'd make chairs by day, but have plenty of time for translating in the evenings."
"Well I have heard of Queen Anne chairs, so there could be truth in your story. That Queen Anne, she was mighty smart to figure out upholstery - how to cushion chairs so they'd be more comfortable. You know any more? That Queen Anne, she say anything about the Holy Grail?"
"Well I have heard about that, or read about it, but I don't rightly remember."
"The Holy Grail is a cup that used to belong to Jesus," says Jesse. "I hear he used it at the Last Supper and filled it with his tears, but it got lost afterwards when they cleared the table and washed the dishes. The knights I was telling you about earlier, they put great stock in it and say if you drink from it - even just drink water from it - you'll be cured of any ailments and likely live forever. So they go on quests trying to find it."
"Why'd Jesus fill it with his tears?" I asked.
"Well, by all accounts, Jesus weren't a rich man. There were 12 others besides himself at that supper and, since he was their master, their boss, he likely got saddled with the bill."
I laughed, and Jesse laughed with me. Relaxed now, we drifted off to sleep.
I was awakened by what sounded like a moo, and I thought: "what's a cow doing in the hotel?" I was that comfortable. But pretty soon I was awake.Then I heard the barn door open and a Nigger boy come in. He saw the horses and mule and he left quick as could be.
I woke Jesse and Jimmy. "Wake up! We overslept! A boy came in and saw things aren't as they should be. Now he's gone to tell somebody there are strange horses in the barn."
We slid down the ladder with our boots on the sides, never touching the rungs. Jesse and I got our rides ready while Jimmy kept a lookout from the loft window, then I peaked out through a knothole by the door. I was surprised to see the Boy leaning against his horse like he's trying to get over his fright and is pondering what to do.
I whispered to Jesse: "I think he's gonna come back. Be ready to jump him; I don't know if I could get him, and you whipped me at wrestling." By now my skin was crawling with the suspense of it all. Tom Sawyer, he would 'ave loved it!
The Boy stuck his head in. It didn't come to harm, so the rest of him followed. Quicker than a riled rattler, Jesse sprung on him and had him, knife at his throat.
"Don't kill me!" the Boy says. Then all in a rush he says: "I reckon you're Huck Finn. News about that murder is spreading like wildfire. My ma knows your old Jim, but I never did, and we are slaves, and kinda obligated to tell the master, and I just been pondering what to do. If master finds out you was here and I let you get away, he'll whip me sure." Then he seen me and he says "Who are You?"
"Tom Sawyer," I replies. "Everything you've heard about my friend Huck here is likely a lie. He never killed Judge Thatcher; not by murder, nor by accident neither. We just can't prove he's innocent."
"What you gonna do now?"
Well, we'll have to tie you up and I think I'll take your horse, it looks better than my mule. Then I guess I'll head to -- (I stopped like I'd almost said too much) -- up north where folks don't know me and maybe ain't heard of me and the murder yet."
Now if you're smart, you'll see that I slipped as to who I was, but the Boy, if he caught that, didn't let on, and I didn't think of it til later.
We tied his hands and feet, but not too tight, and put a bucket over his head so he wouldn't be able to see which way we went. I decided to keep my mule after all, so the Boy would have to foot it if he had any second thoughts about reporting us. I was might glad it was starting to snow, as that would cover our tracks.
That was the last snowfall that season, and by afternoon it had let up.