West Otter Lake 19
West Otter Lake
Copyright© 2013 – Nicholas Hall
West Otter Lake – Chapter Nineteen– "If three people having sex is a threesome, and two people having sex is a twosome, then I know why people call me handsome." –(Unknown)
Our daily work and play routines were pretty well established by July 1 and we were functioning like a finely oiled machine or, in our case, as a confident, well-trained team, able to anticipate each other's needs and actions. The cabins were rented for the entire month of July, as well as the campground, except for those sites I set aside for transient campers. Fourth of July week is always especially busy. Our guests expect fireworks displays, but the Resort doesn't have them, so we encourage our guests to drive to Otter Lake where the fire department puts on a tremendous celebration for locals and visitors. The Resort makes a substantial financial contribution each year to help defray the costs. Not only does it provide entertainment for everyone, but provides a tax write-off for us and, we don't have to worry about all the permits and liability if we had a fireworks event ourselves.
Craig volunteered to hold down the fort at the Resort so the rest of us could go to town to celebrate. I was saddened by this since, although he was with us, he still seemed lonely. He'd not heard from his parents or anyone in his immediate family since the memorial service for Grandma Johnson. Why they couldn't be bothered to even call or send a card, I'll never know. It was as if he never existed in their eyes. The look of despondency and sadness in his eyes when he sat alone, thinking no one else could observe him, was almost overwhelming to me.
One evening, while he was sitting alone on the end of the main dock, during that quiet time just as the day sounds end and prior to night sounds beginning, I walked down to the dock, sat next to him, and commented, "Life sometimes can be pretty hard, can't it?"
He nodded, swallowed hard, and choked out, "Especially when you're all alone," and then embarrassed, corrected himself. "I mean, I'm really not ALL alone because of you and everyone but..."
Interrupting, putting my arm around him, I stated softly, "But you have nobody of your own; someone to love and love you in return, right?"
Leandro and I had each other, Ollie and Luis were a couple, but Craig, handsome, considerate, affectionate, and effervescent Craig, was alone and really didn't want to be. I know how he feels, I felt the same way when I came back home after my breakup with Beau. The feeling really didn't leave, until Leandro and Luis arrived and were discovered pissing behind the wood pile. What could I say to brighten his spirits and give him hope? He had everything going for him in looks, intelligence, and personality, except here, in the northern forests, there just weren't too many opportunities to meet other gay men. There was always the danger, even in today's liberal and accepting society, some homophobic pencil-dick would pound the shit out of you.
People in town and the surrounding area, along with our guests, were aware that Leandro and I were a couple and they'd have to be blind not to see how in love Ollie and Luis were with each other, but very little, if anything was ever said. If guests had a problem with our private lives and sexual orientation, I'm certain they just wouldn't return for another year. In the meantime, it still didn't make it any easier on Craig.
"It'll all work out somehow, Craig; it did for me!"
Holding up his right hand he commented dejectedly, "Yeah, but now it's just `Old Mother Thumb and Her Four Daughters' pumping my pecker. Of course, that's all I really know what or how to do. I've never had a blowjob, been fucked, or fucked someone else and I just don't want it to be just `sex;' I want it to be with someone who loves me and I love him. I want to taste him, feel him deep inside me, and soak myself all night in his embrace."
Well, I can't fault him there; it changes the verbiage from "fucking" to "making love" and there's a big difference!
In June we celebrated Ollie and Luis' birthdays with a party at the Resort and on July 12th we celebrated the Twins ninth. They wanted a "real party;" one with school friends and others invited to the Resort. It was fine with me, so we planned an afternoon swimming, if the weather was favorable, party at the Resort beach with cake and ice cream to follow. Terell and Treyvon thought it'd be special to give each guest attending a gift for attending. Now that's a switch, I thought and we decided on a "West Otter Lake Resort and Campground" tee-shirt for each.
Invitations were sent out to about a dozen of their classmates and to Mr. Polistrini, their teacher from the year just past. They really liked him and it was easy to see why; he was a fabulously motivating teacher who inspired the boys to learn at their own rate and encouraged them to be all they could be.
Leandro and Mae baked two big sheet cakes, all decorated and fancy for the party guests, and then three more for the Resort reception that evening in the Great Room. We had something similar for Ollie and Luis, so I thought we should do the same for Terell and Treyvon. The guests at the Resort thought a great deal of the boys and would enjoy celebrating with them. I bought the ice cream and Ollie and Luis decorated the beach area with colored balloons. The beach had festive appearance and I hoped everyone would have a good time.
Amidst much giggling and laughter, the guests arrived, changed into swim togs, and headed for the beach. The big slide, sitting on the edge of the beach and ending over the water, soon became the focal point of the fun. Nearly naked little boys scurried up the ladder, plopped down on their butts, and swooshed down the slide to land with a splash and a shout in the lake only to do it over again. Craig, the strongest swimmer of us all and an experienced life guard, supervised the organized mayhem from the dock. I pulled up some chairs and visited with some of the parents who decided to stay and enjoy the sunny afternoon. I was struck by the fact there two little chocolate brown boys cavorting with a dozen white boys and there was no evident concern for color differences in the assemblage. The parents didn't seem prejudiced either and that was a good sign for my brothers and for the rest of us.
Mr. Polistrini was the last to arrive and was hesitant to discard his clothing and swim, but soon had to give in to the shouts of the boys wallowing in the water and bounded in with them. He was immediately mobbed by a phalanx of near-nakedness and the fun began anew. He was a fit young man, attractive but not the `Adonis' type, and, by the looks of his body, kept himself in fairly good shape. His bright blue eyes peeked out from under his black hair when he came up for air and twinkled with a sparkle that would turn any girl's or guy's heart to liquid. When he laughed or smiled, it was genuine and revealed his happy, inner self. Someone once said you could tell a lot about someone by their smile. Well, his smile told me he was one hell of nice guy and someone I felt comfortable being around my brothers.
Craig, on the other hand, sitting on the dock in his blue speedos exhibiting a nice firm bulge in the front and a nicely shaped set of buns in the back, seemed less comfortable as he gazed upon the young teacher frolicking in the water. Whenever Mr. Polistrini stepped from the water, Craig's hand seemed to stray to his crotch, feeling the necessity to make a sight adjustment to a growing problem. Mr. Polistrini finally begged off with the youngsters, walked over to the dock, hoisted himself out of the water, and sat down next to Craig. I saw him stretch out his hand, introduce himself, and then scoot a little closer. I noted then it was Mr. Polistrini who began adjusting himself.
Two hours later, I called the revelers from the water to the Lodge for cake and ice cream. During the munching time, the birthday guest gave presents to the twins, and the twins returned with the tee-shirts. The boys received some nice gifts from their friends. From us, they each received a new mountain bike and were thrilled. Soon, little boys with full tummies, tired bodies, and new tee-shirts were met by parents and shuttled home.
Mr. Polistrini, now insisting the adults call him `Loren,' asked if he could stay for the Resort party and I was more than happy to have him. Craig was overjoyed and throughout the evening, I noticed they spent a great deal of time together. It was really quite amusing I thought; every time Craig started to do something, like haul garbage, Loren was right there to do it for him. When the evening wound down and guests returned to cabins and campsites, Loren accompanied Craig on his evening rounds.
The next morning, while Craig and I were in the process of cleaning up the beach area, he asked if he could have the next Tuesday afternoon and evening off. At the office, I checked the schedule and found no problem with that and told him so.
"Hot date?" I asked.
"Yeah; Loren asked if I'd like to go to Parsonville for dinner and a movie."
Thinking to myself that good things come to those who wait, I clapped him on the back and said, "Go for it, Craig!"
Saturday morning check-in was a busy day, as usual. Mae was busy accommodating cabin rental guests with finding more pillows, blankets, towels, or various other sundry items and I was manning the office. All of our cabin rentals were in and the campsites were pretty much full except for the two sites I kept open for transients. It was late in the day and I was about to settle back and relax just a minute when a twenty-four or twenty-eight foot Winnebago® self-contained, motorhome type camper with a small covered trailer attached behind, pulled up in front of the office, and a neatly dressed, well-groomed older black gentleman headed toward the office. His bearing and the way his eyes swept the area, taking mental notes as he walked, impressed me as a man with either executive, military, or law enforcement experience.
I stepped up to counter to meet him as he entered the office.
"Any campsites left? I don't have reservations," he explained.
"I have two left, but why don't you take a look at them before you decide." I called Terell and Treyvon on the radio and asked them to show the gentleman sites 15 and 30.
"Follow the two young lads sitting out front on mountain bikes and they'll show you the two campsites. If you like either one of them and want to stay with us, I'll be happy to register you then."
He grinned when he saw the two boys, looking quite official sitting there on their bikes, radios attached to their belts, waiting for him. Shaking his head in amusement, he climbed in his camper and slowly followed the boys down the road to the campground. Fifteen minutes later he returned and registered for one week in Site 30. He signed the book as "Cedric Wilson" and listed his home residence as Lincoln, Nebraska. I speculated he was about Mae's age, sixty perhaps, no more than that and was a nice looking, physically fit African/American man.
"Interested in fishing?" I asked.
"Perhaps, but more just the forests and scenery of the north woods; I trailer a medium-sized motorcycle so I'd like to do some day trips and see the countryside."
That's about all he said and, with a wave, left to set up camp. I wondered why he traveled alone. He certainly was quiet, not secretive, but not volunteering any information such as many of our guests do. Cedric Wilson piqued my interests, although he seemed fairly calm, at ease with me, he also seemed to be at loose ends, as if looking for something and not finding it, yet. Craig opened the bar and I half expected Mr. Wilson to come up for a beer, but he didn't show.
Ollie and Luis were busy into the evening so after Terell and Treyvon finished their rounds with the garden tractor pulling a trailer they filled with bundled firewood and selling the majority of it to campers, I sent them to the docks with sandwiches and sodas for Ollie and Luis. They had been extraordinarily busy all afternoon and into the evening and hadn't had a chance to break for supper.
Sunday morning, real early, I was in the office with Ollie, getting his change and receipts books ready for the day. He and Luis liked to be on the docks between five and six to accommodate the early fishermen and those who wanted to go for an early morning ride on the lake before it became busy. The early morning service was a good tip getter and the boys capitalized on it. As I handed him the bank bag with his change, Cedric Wilson walked in.
"I was hoping you'd be open," he happily said, "I thought I had a state map, but evidently misplaced it. You wouldn't happen to have an extra, would you?"
"No problem, Mr. Wilson; Ollie would you hand Mr. Wilson one from the rack, please?"
Ollie handed him the map, excused himself and left for the docks.
Wilson watched him leave and then, rather hesitantly commented, "At risk of appearing rude, I don't see many people around this part of the state who are of African/American descent such as me. Does the young man live around here or is he here for the summer to work?"
"Ollie?" I grinned in response. "He's both; he lives at the Resort and is summer help too."
Wilson's eyebrows rose in question to my answer, so I continued, "He's my brother, well, half-brother. We have the same father, but different mothers."
Nodding speculatively, Wilson asked, "And the two cute tykes that escorted me to my campsite and drove around last evening with the garden tractor selling wood?"
I laughed; "Yeah, they're my brothers, Terell and Treyvon; twins, obviously, and full brother to Ollie."
He asked no more, took his map, and left the office. Twenty minutes later, he drove by on his motorcycle. Mr. Wilson didn't return until later that evening, just as the campground was settling down for the night.
Monday, the weather forecasters were correct; the day started off sunny, but after lunch, scattered showers began bombarding the area. Ollie and Luis weren't busy as a result, so Luis stayed manning the bait shop so Ollie could have his piano lesson and practice a bit longer than usual. The Twins had their lesson first with Mae's gentle, but firm instance on correct fingering, hand positions, and notes. When they were finished, it was Ollie's turn under the tutelage of their grandmother. Ollie just began his lesson when a couple of customers appeared in the gift shop so Mae urged him to do some warm-up exercises and run through his lesson pieces while she waited on the customers. There were a number of guests in the Great Room, enjoying a beer or two since the inclement weather kept them off of the lake, and much to Craig's pleasure tending bar, sat back and enjoyed Ollie's virtuosity on the piano. The longer he played, the longer the guests stayed, and the busier Craig was.
Cedric Wilson, not riding his motorcycle because of the rain, bought himself a beer, and instead of sitting at the bar or one of the tables we provided, walked to one of the couches, sat down, savored his drink, and smiled approvingly while Ollie played. I wandered in from the office when I heard those delicate, magical fingers of Ollie's begin dancing lightly on the piano keys to enjoy his talent. Man, he could play; stirring the heart and soul of human or beast. The trilling, melodic music of the morning song birds paled as he expressed the passions of the masters through the keyboard under his talented hands. Like Mae, his interpretation of the music score before him as he played, expressed not only the composers emotions but his own, conveying both all within listening distance of his talents.
Joining Mr. Wilson on the couch, I commented casually, "I love hearing Ollie play, Mr. Wilson. We all think he's really quite special."
"Please call me `Ced' or Cedric, and I agree with you. He's quite talented for such a young man. His techniques, mannerisms, and expressions remind me of another pianist I heard many years ago," and sat back enjoying the music and his beer.
Mae finished with her customers, stepped out of the gift shop and joined Ollie on the piano bench, softly exhorting him to lift his fingers up gently and be a just a trifle more pianissimo in the measures. In demonstration, she played the particular section she was referring to for him. Ollie smiled his understanding and performed it as she wished, with her approval.
Cedric said suddenly, "Mavis Holmes!"
She turned slowly from her position on the bench, looked in my direction, and scrutinized carefully the man who's addressed her by her maiden name. After telling Ollie to continue, she rose, walked toward us, and standing near me, asked cautiously, "I beg your pardon, do I know you?"
Wilson smiled, "Probably not; I was a couple of grades ahead of you in high school, but I remember your piano playing. You used to accompany the high school chorus when they performed and at my classes' graduation you performed a solo piano piece. I don't remember the name of it, but I thought it was fantastic at the time and still do," and extended his hand, "Cedric Wilson," he intoned.
Mae accepted the proffered hand, "Mavis Thompson; my married name."
Before he could ask, Mae volunteered, "My husband passed away several years ago," and pulled up a chair.
Cedric didn't push the issue, but soon had Mae speaking freely of her life, her dead husband, the deaths of her sons and daughter, and how she and her grandchildren settled in with me at West Otter Lake Resort and Campground.
"I'm sorry to hear of your losses," he said, consoling and sympathetically, "but, hearing your grandson Ollie play, you also have reason to be proud of what you've accomplished in spite of your own tragedies."
Mae nodded her pride in her grandson, inhaled deeply and changed the subject.
"Now, Cedric Wilson, what about you? Married? Family?"
Sadly, he responded, "My wife passed away three years ago, one year after I retired so we didn't have too much time to enjoy our retirement together."
"After high school, I received several academic scholarships to attend college. Utilizing those and ROTC, my education was paid for. I enjoyed the ROTC program so much I enlisted in the army as a career and retired with the rank of Lt. Colonel four years ago."
Cedric and his wife had seven children and all were grown, with families of their own, at the time of his wife's death. Utilizing his retirement pay from the United States Army, they anticipated returning to many of the places in foreign lands they'd been stationed throughout his career, but after her death, he lost the urge to travel abroad, choosing to spend his summers visiting his children and grandchildren and winters in his camper in the south. He maintained his resident address at his daughter home in Lincoln. His mail was delivered there and forwarded during the winter, but he made periodic phone calls to check on the mail and paid those bills not auto-paid from his bank account in Lincoln, on line.
After visiting a son in Minneapolis, Minnesota, he decided to head east to our area. Wilson hadn't visited here before and was curious what the countryside looked like. It was happen-chance he stumbled on West Otter Lake Resort and Campground and decided to stop and take a look. The hospitality we afforded him on his arrival cinched his stay.
"Of course," he laughed, "those two cute grandsons of Mae's were a real convincer. How can anyone refuse the sales pitch they give? It's obvious they're happy and love the place."
I excused myself at that point, sensing they might need some time to get acquainted, walked up to the piano and asked Ollie to join me when he finished. Mae and Cedric were still visiting when Ollie came to the office a half-hour later.
"I think Grandma Mae found herself a boyfriend," he chuckled.
"That's what I wanted to visit with you about," I stated simply.
Ollie and I talked about ten minutes concerning the ramifications it might have on him and, especially, the Twins if their grandmother found someone she was very fond of. Ollie really didn't think it'd be a big problem since the Resort was now home to them.
He gave me a big hug and a kiss. "You're family we never knew we had and all of us love our big brother. It's home to us and to Grandma Mae, so she'll always return for a visit or to live, no matter what," and trotted back to the bait shop where Luis waited for him.
Wednesday morning, after his date with Loren, Craig had a twinkle in his eyes and appeared truly happy and relaxed. I was anxious to hear what happened while they were out, but Leandro announced he'd called Eddie Winters concerning a couple of motors that were giving us problems and Eddie would pick them up in a half-hour or less, so I postponed my inquisition until later.
We helped Eddie load the motors in his truck and while doing so, engaged in the usual small talk concerning the summer, business at the Resort, and business in general in the lakes area.
Answering his question concerning the Resort business, I replied, "It's been great so far; if it keeps up, we'll have an excellent season!"
"What's Wesley been up too?"
"Not a clue, Eddie. I haven't heard from him or seen him since Grandma Johnson's memorial service. Why?"
"Oh, I just saw him in the hardware store yesterday and I thought he might be staying out here."
To be continued
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Thank you for reading "West Otter Lake – Chapter Nineteen– "If three people having sex is a threesome, and two people having sex is a twosome, then I know why people call me handsome." –(Unknown)
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