Waddie Lovejoy
was five years old when the second World War was over. Bells and sirens
were going off everywhere. He remembered being taken to the town
park where everyone was crying and hugging each other. Waddie
heard church bells sounding, sirens screaming, people shooting guns,
car horns honking and someone was blowing a bugle. There was
food, fireworks, music and dancing, but what he remembered most
was the ice cream. It was the first time he’d ever eaten ice cream and
he decided right away it was his favorite food. He didn’t know
what all the hubbub was about, he had no idea what war was
or why it was over.
He heard
two of his uncles and an aunt would be coming home from the
service. He didn’t know what ‘the service’ was but he was happy
they were coming home. If it meant more ice cream for him he
could only hope he had several more aunts and uncles who might be
coming home soon. It was a wonderful day for everyone. Waddie was
hugged and kissed a lot that day. He wasn’t sure why but it
seemed everyone wanted to hold and pet him. That was all right with
him. It usually meant another dish of ice cream from someone who
just couldn’t eat another bite. Waddie sure as Hell could.
Everyone
remarked what a good looking, cute kid he was. He had a natural dimple
in his little, square chin and platinum blond hair. He had the
deepest blue eyes, the color of fine lapis, a twinkle in his eye and a
smile that said, ‘Aww, go on, you know you wanna’ love me.’ However, he
met his match;— literally. His Uncle Buck came home from the war
and hadn’t put him down more than a handful of times in the two weeks
since he’d been home. The day after he met his nephew he went out
and bought him a cowboy hat of his own just like his. Waddie
looked like he belonged in his uncle’s big arms. A huge cowboy and a
little cowboy. Everyone started calling Waddie, ‘little
Buck.’ Waddie loved that. He’d fallen hopelessly in love with the
big cowboy who held him.
Waddie grew
tired of the excitement and was satisfied to curl up in his big cowboy
buddy’s arms and go to sleep as the crowd watched fireworks that
evening. Waddie just got out of the hospital. He almost died of
abuse and neglect. He was still gaining his strength back and tired
easily. He was currently living with his big uncle because things were
not going well for him in his regular home.
Waddie’s
buddy, Buckley Livingstone Claymore, was a young, twenty five
year old man who was the epitome of a West Texas cowboy. Buck and
Waddie’s dad, Morgan Stanley Lovejoy, were best buds. They
were the same age, and grew up being inseparable friends. The town folk
thought of them as a set of bookends. Wherever you found Buck you
could bet Morgan was nearby. Even though they weren’t blood
relations, Waddie was told to call the big cowboy, Uncle Buck, because
he and Waddie’s dad were as close as brothers. They certainly
didn’t look like brothers. Morgan was slightly taller than Buck but not
nearly as big physically. While both men had the bodies of athletes,
Morgan had a more even spread of muscles. He was half Cajun and half
American Indian. His dark olive, ruddy, complection was strikingly set
off by his coal black hair and piercing steel grey eyes. He always wore
his hair in a short brush cut. Morgan was intelligent, mostly peaceful,
easy going, considerate, with a quick wit and well developed sense of
humor. He was capable of great love and loyalty.
Buck wasn’t a
small man by any means and outweighed Morgan a good thirty pounds. Buck
had the body of a bull and a neck to match. When he got mad his
nares flared and Buck looked like a bull; to say nothing of what lay
warm between his massive thighs. He had a fair complection and platinum
blond hair. Buck had a big, well defined, square jawed face that made
him look like a poster child for the Marine Corps. He had a
dimple in his chin so pronounced it was hard for him to shave without
cutting himself. His deep blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “He has the
devil in him.” many folks were heard to say as they laughed about
something outrageously funny Buck said or did. He was warm,
affectionate, compassionate, honest to a fault, without a mean bone in
his body. He was slow to anger but never backed down from a
confrontation. They each lettered every year in high school in
football, baseball, and basket ball. They even won all four years in
team roping competition in the all state high school rodeo. The first
day of grade school Morgan walked up to Buck, looked him up and down,
then spoke to him.
“You’ll do.”
“Do what?” Buck
asked.
“— be my buddy,—
my friend. My dad says ever' kid needs a best buddy,— a
best friend, and I want chu.'”
They were the
biggest two boys in the class and it made sense to Morgan they should
be buddies. Besides, he thought Buck was the best looking kid he
ever saw. Buck looked Morgan up and down and decided the same
thing and thought, ‘Humm,— this good looking kid could have any kid
here for a buddy but he wants me? Bet chur’ ass I’ll be your buddy.’
“Be proud to be
your buddy,— name's Buck,— Buck Claymore.” Buck said sticking out
his hand. Morgan took it and looked into his eyes.
“I’m
Morgan. Morgan Lovejoy, Buddy. Proud to be your buddy,
too.” That was the start of a friendship that lasted over sixty
years.
School work was
easy for Morgan. He was one of two top students in his class.
Learning was more difficult for Buck; not because he was dumb or slow
to learn. He had trouble focusing his mind for a given period to
learn what needed to be learned. Morgan made quick work of taking
Buck under his wing, setting him down and teaching him how to
study. He taught him how and what to learn and to do it in the
least amount of time. Time was set aside for study every evening
and that’s what they did. It helped Buck to be taught to keep a
regular schedule. He worshiped and adored Morgan for teaching him
and demanding he learn how to focus. After one year of being Morgan’s
running buddy, Buck’s grades were in the top two or three of his
class. He was thrilled. Morgan was proud of him and Buck’s
parents saw their relationship as a benefit to both; so did
Morgan’s. Teaching Buck and being forced to know the subjects a
little better to lead his buddy meant his test scores improved as well.
They became
inseparable friends. Their families never worried where the boys
were. They were either at Buck or Morgan's house. Usually
they would be helping one or both their dads with chores around the
ranches. After a while, there was rarely any phoning to ask if
Morgan could stay over or if Buck could stay over. The boys evenly
divided their time between homes. The menu for the evening meal
was usually the deciding factor.
Their mothers
gave up buying separately for the boys. Several times a year they
would go shopping together and bought enough clothes for both. They
couldn’t get the boys to go along so they bought them what they thought
they might like. If it was simple with no frills it got worn a lot. If
it was too flashy, colorful or called attention to them, it sat in the
bottom of the drawer. Buck and Morgan didn’t much care what they wore,
as long as there was clean clothes in the drawer. They wore each
other’s clothes. Whatever was left at one house was washed and
put away and so it was at the other’s house. If clothes got
overbalanced at one house the boys were given a cardboard box of clean
clothes to take to the other mother to put away.
They were all
the time helping Buck’s dad on their ranch and then they’d help
Morgan’s dad and granddad on theirs. Buck’s family accepted
Morgan as their other son and the Lovejoys, Morgan’s folks, loved Buck
as their own. The boys were pretty exclusive with each other as
friends. They went all through school together, played
sports and rodeoed together; however, they never discouraged any
of the other boys from being with them or playing sports together. They
always had a group of eight to fifteen boys following them around who
wanted to spend time with them. They were the leaders in everything in
the small town. They never discouraged the younger, smaller boys
from joining in and even encouraged them. They wouldn’t allow the older
boys to mistreat them either.
From the
beginning, Morgan and Buck had an affinity for the small, fat, clumsy,
fearful, last chosen kid in school. They encouraged them, picked
them for their teams and wouldn’t allow the other kids to make fun of
them. The other kids began to understand the strength of giving
to the weak makes everyone stronger. Everyone would join in
rooting for the shy, smaller kids. Many greatly improved and became
pretty fair athletes because Buck and Morgan believed in and encouraged
them. They credited their two, big, best friends, Buck and Morgan, for
their courage to try. It carried over into the kid’s adult lives
and developed their self-confidence to become good citizens of their
community. Morgan and Buck formed many strong, long lasting, good
friendships on the playground that saw them in good stead with their
neighbors later in life.
No one in their
school ever said anything about their close friendship; not even in
jest. Morgan and Buck were two big enough and mean enough, kick-ass
cowboys they were treated with respect. They weren’t bullies; on the
contrary, they treated everyone with the same respect. They treated the
young school kids with love and respect as well. They were the first a
kid would run to if they were hurt or being mistreated.
Morgan learned
from Buck to always stop, take time and be genuinely interested in the
least of the kid’s plights. That alone would reduce any child’s problem
by half. They had two big brothers who cared about each and every one
of them and would take time to listen. On the first day of
school, parents would point out the two biggest, meanest looking boys
on the playground to their children and tell them if they got into
trouble or needed help to go to Buck or Morgan. They never failed to
try to help any kid who needed them. Everyone in the community loved
Buck and Morgan especially the kids. They felt safe at school with Buck
and Morgan around.
There were very
few kids who were picked on or mistreated while Buck and Morgan were
attending school and they managed to pass their torch down to younger
generations. Any kid who thought he was tough enough to bully
another kid was warned twice not to do it again. God help him if he
tried a third time. He never tried for a fourth. Sometimes Buck
and Morgan went eye to eye with an angry parent whose kid got his butt
stomped because he was a bully, but the parents of the kid who was
bullied always backed them up. Usually, the bully’s parent looked at
their kid in shock.
“You did that to
this little kid? You’re gonna’ really get it when we get home,
young man. I ain’t a’ gonna’ be raising no Goddamn bully in my
home!” Then they’d shake hands with Buck and Morgan and
apologize, “Sorry, Guys, I didn’t know. If you catch him
do’n it again, you have my full permission to set him straight. When I
see you’ve done your job, he’ll get it again when he gets
home; no questions asked.”
Buck and Morgan
always had a game or a rodeo going somewhere. They went hunting
and fishing and were never heard to have an argument in all those
years. They enjoyed each other’s company and spent most of their
time together. That closeness and comradery continued all their
lives. No one in the small community ever whispered a word about
the possibility that Buck and Morgan might be,— uhmm,— you know,— ‘that
way.’ (Of course before nineteen-fifty there was no such thing as
‘gays.’ You were just ‘shy.’) Buck and Morgan certainly
didn’t meet the definition of being ‘shy.’ Far from it, but the
truth was, when they were alone, in private, they couldn’t keep their
hands off each other. They rarely showed any overt affection in public
other than to put an arm around a shoulder while walking along in deep
discussion or a hug at winning a game or rodeo; however, let them
be in private for an evening and all their clothes came off. They
didn’t always fall into lustful sex. They liked to see each other’s
bodies and didn’t feel shy looking at each other. They did
homework together in the raw. They listened to radio in the nude.
Anytime they were in their room at either house, they were buck-ass
naked.
They each had a
large bedroom on the second floor of their homes and their
parents never came to their door without announcing their presence and
then waiting. They respected the boy’s privacy. During warm
months the boys would sleep in their dad’s barns. Every country
boy knows the freedom of sleeping on a blanket in the hay with your
best bud. They found out about sex through experimentation as young
boys. They did it a lot when they were small but tapered off as they
approached puberty due to lack of interest. Then after Mr.
hormone dropped their testicles, their voices began to deepen,
and ape turf appeared in the appropriate places, there appeared a
new dawning of interest in sex.
Buck and Morgan
would stand around and watch the old cowboys breed the stallions to the
mares in the early fall to get summer foals. They’d watch the big
male animals mount and fuck the females. Sometimes the stud would
get over anxious and have difficulty finding the mare’s cunt. One of
the old cowboys would grab the big stallion by his dick and guide him
into her. Buck and Morgan wondered why all the old cowboys, their
dads and granddads had large wet spots at the crotch in their levis;
why most of them would rub their penises which grew stiff in their
pants? They could see them hard and outlined through the
stretched fabric. The cowboys would get into the spirit of urging the
stallion on.
“He’s gettin’
her really good this time, Johnny! Wow, look at the son of a
bitch fuck 'er. You know damn well she’s gotta’ be enjoy’n that.
Watch her, see,— see how she keeps backing up to him,— begging
him for more. Damned, if she ain’t a whore. "At’s it,
girl! Put it up there for that stud; shake that tail in his
face; let him know how bad you want it. You know you want his
baby. Don’t be shy girl, back right up there to 'em; take
him. ‘At’s it, ‘atta girl! Take that big, horse dick deep
in your big pussy. ‘At’s it, ‘at’s it, girl!
Holy fuck, look at that stud go. J’ever seen a stud fuck a mare
like that, Johnny?”
Many of the men
would ejaculate in their pants watching the big animals mating.
No man in the community missed the couple of evenings the horses were
bred. It was like a private, men only, sex show. It
was never spoken of in those terms but they all knew; they all felt the
strong sexual draw. For each man it was like re-living his own
particular rite of passage in the fury and eroticism of the huge
animal's rut. None were exempt from the raw sexual
draw. Buck and Morgan wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
After they reached puberty they understood why the wet spots appeared
in all the men’s levis. It appeared in theirs about the age of
eleven. From then on, sex took on a new dimension. After watching
and listening for several hours to dirty, filthy, wonderful cowboy
sexual talk disguised in the form of urging the stallions on, they’d go
back to their barn and play 'stallion and mare.' At first they fought
each other tooth and nail over who was going to play the stallion.
After a while they’d fight tooth and nail to see who was going to play
the mare.
“Goddamn it,
Buck! You got to be the mare last time. It’s my turn.
Besides, your ole dick is about the right size to be a stallion. Come
on Buck,— have a heart,— don’t you want me to have your foal come
summer?”
Both men would
be rolling in the hay with laughter and that would finally do it for
Buck to give in to his buddy, Morgan. They would imitate the
exact way the stallions fucked the mares. They watched closely and
memorized every violent thrust. They spoke detailed descriptions
back and forth to each other. From the rough mounting to the immediate
onset of rough, animal like rutting. The man playing the part of
the mare would usually create the same running dialog they heard
from the old cowboys.
“Goddamn, Buck!”
Morgan would start the dialog after Buck slammed his big piece of fat,
cowboy dick to the hilt in Morgan’s ass, “Did you see the way that stud
took her. C’ mon, Stud, don’t be shy. Plant that big horse dick
deep in her pussy. Make her feel it, Stud,— see, look at
her! Look at her back that ass up for that stud to get deeper in
a’ her.” Morgan would put his ass up and back up to meet Buck’s
hard thrusts. “See, she want’s it. She’s a fucking whore,
Buck,— look at her! Look at how much she’s enjoying that stud’s
big horse cock. Damn! That’s one of the finest studs we
got. He ain’t never failed to make them mares want
more. Look at him open her up. Damnation! Wow! Go for
it, Stud. She wants your baby. Make sure she gets it.
C’ mon, Stud. She wants your baby, Stud. Awww, damn,—
he’s really fucking her cunt good, Buck. Shoot that big horse
load up her hot pussy, Stud.
Forget the mare,
Buck! Your buddy, Morgan, wants your baby, Stud. He wants
it bad. Make me pregnant you big, horse dicked son of a
bitch. C’mon, cowboy, ride you buddy’s ass down hard. Slap
some leather, Buckaroo. Spur your cayuse hard in the flank,
Buck. To Hell with them kindness rowels, make your buddy give you
the best ride. You love me don’cha, cowboy? Don’cha,
Buck? I’ll give you a Goddamn foal or a son, whatever
you want, Buck! Just fuck me harder, cowboy! C’ mon
Buck, you can fuck me harder’n ‘at. You done it before,
Hoss. Oh, damn, Fucker! Now you’re gettin’ it.
Yeah! Now,— ‘at’s some good fuck’n right there, Stud. Oh,
yeah! Fuck it good, Buddy!
I can’t hold out
much longer,— a minute,— no, make that,— awwww, Goddaaammn, Stud!
I feel it shooting deep inside me. My horse pussy’s trying to
bite your stud’s dick off inside of her. Goddamn it! Fuck me,
Stud! ‘At’s it! ‘At’s it! Now you’re busting her
cunt, Stud! Get it goooood, Buck! Fill me up,
Buck! Gimme’ all you got, sweet baby! Oh, oh,—
damnation! That be good! That be better’n good, Buck.
That be fuck’n fantastic! Oh! Oh! Oh!
Ooooooh! Shiiiiit! I feel it, Buck, emptying your
horse dick into me, cowboy. Oh, shit, Hell, damn, fuck!
Your mare’s catching your seed, Stud, your hot horse come. Keep
pumping it in my gut you hot, fucking son of a bitch! I need it
all, Buck! Don’t cheat your bud, Darlin.’ You want that
baby, you gotta’ fill me up, Stud. Aaww,— daammnn,— you’re
filling me up, Buck. I can feel it! ‘At’s good! ‘At’s
good! I was a quart low, anyway. Damn, you fucked me good,
Stud. Fucked the snot right out ‘a me! Oh, Hell,— you know
it’s gotta’ be a pretty baby, Buck!”
Buck would nail
Morgan’s ass to the blanket on the hay bail. They were more
gentle when they first discovered anal sex but now they both liked raw,
rutting, butt busting, animal sex. The harder the better and the
one playing the stallion always made sure his mare shot with him or
he’d fuck her ‘til she did. Then they would fall together in
exhaustion, kissing, complementing each other how good they played
their part, what the foal or child would look like, and most of all how
much they loved each other. One hot summer night as the boys were
about to go to sleep in each other’s arms Buck got thoughtful.
“Morgan,— do you
think having sex with each other makes us queer?”
“Do you feel
queer when we have sex?”
“Aww, Hell,
no. I feel loved and feel like I give you love. I’d like to see
any queer take it up the ass the way we do?” They punched and
giggled with each other.
“Do you have
feelings for other men?” Morgan asked.
“Do you?” Buck
asked back.
“Yeah, once in a
while, but I sure as Hell wouldn’t do nothing about it. Besides,
I wanna’ save it for my buddy. What if you needed your itch
scratched and I’d all ready used my itch scratcher up?”
“Yeah, me,
too. Once in a while I’ll see some dude, like old Quinton, I
think might be fun to lay down with and then I think about my buddy who
gives me more’n I probably need anyway and it goes away.”
“Why’d ‘ju ask?
You having problems? You wanna’ quit? I’d miss it but I’d respect
your wishes. I wouldn’t stop loving you none, neither. You
might have to let me suck you off once in a while until you weaned
me.” Morgan said with a straight face. Buck roared with
laugher.
“Until I
WHAT?” Buck continued laughing, “Until I weaned you?” He
started tickling Morgan until they got aroused again and spent half the
night making man love to each other. After they settled down
again, Buck gently kissed Morgan.
“If I’m a’
gonna’ wean you, who the Hell’s gonna’ wean me? I can’t get
enough of you now. I sit in class and start remembering how good
your come tastes, the flavor of your butt hole and I pop a boner
ever time. My mouth starts a’ watering and I have ta’ keep swallowing
to keep from look’n like a Goddamn idiot with drool running down the
corners of my mouth. My old dick starts dripping so’s I
can’t get up from study hall when the bell rings. Don’t go
gettin’ no stupid idea in your head I wanna’ stop. Ever watch a
drug addict go cold turkey?”
“No.” said
Morgan.
“S’not
pretty. You wouldn’t want to see it. Well, that’s how I’d
be if’n you cut me off. Fuck it, Morgan, if it’s queer to love
you and do what we do then I’m a fucking queer. My love for you
ain’t gonna’ stop me from marrying and having kids. Hell, we’ll always
have each other. Maybe not on the same level but we’ll find time
to be by ourselves. Hunting, fishing, making like we’re out
getting drunk together,— all the time playing hide the little green
snake.”
“I wanna’ have a
family, too.” said Morgan, “I love kids and want a son of my own.
I hope he’s just like you, Buck. I pray he’ll have the same
qualities you have. That’s more than I could ask for in a kid, but
you’re right, we’ll always have each other. No one will come
between us. You know, my brother,— anytime you ever need a stallion or
a mare, I’ll be there for you.” Buck got tears in his eyes from
Morgan’s words of love.
“Shit, Morgan!
Ain’t nobody ever loved me as much as you do. Can’t say’s I’ve ever
love another body the way I love you, neither. I don’t think it’s
queer. I sure as Hell think it’s special but I know it’ll last our life
time. Same goes for me, Brother. If you’re twat gets a’ twitching
for a stallion all you gotta’ do is whinny. If you’re feeling like a
randy, young stallion what needs to make a filly foal, you come a’
snort’n around my flanks sniffin’ my hole to see if’n I’d be
receptive, I promise, with this old whore of a mare you
won’t have to sniff too much.” Buck laughed at his own
joke. “I’d be right proud to have you mount me and catch your
stallion’s seed, cowboy, anytime, day or night. I’d be backing my
old mare’s cunt right up to that hot cowboy-stud’s dick what was
fucking me. They call them mares down to the rodeo grounds whores
when they look like they're enjoying the stud fucking them. I
never understood why they’d call her a whore or a slut just
‘cause she seemed to enjoy gettin’ fucked? Hell, them poor bastards
ain’t never seen no whore ’til old Buck gives it up to his buddy,
Morgan. Now, if’n they want’s to see themselves a whore,
we’ll show them son's a’ bitches a real whore, won’t we, Bubba?”
Buck exclaimed. They both rolled around in the hay laughing their
ass’s off.
“Goddamn it,
Buck!” Morgan said laughing, “If you don’t stop we ain’t gonna’
get a lick a’ sleep tonight and you know your dad wants us to help him
get the rest of that hay in tomorrow. Now, kiss me, throw your
arms around me and let's get some sleep.”
The two young
men gently kissed. Buck got into the spoon position behind Morgan
and had his arms around him. They lay quiet for several minutes.
“That better not
be what I think it is a’ knocking at my back door, cowboy.”
Morgan said sternly. Buck rolled on his back in gales of
laughter. Morgan didn’t want to encourage him because he
could be as weak as Buck. He lay on his side trying not to let Buck see
he was about to bust a gut laughing himself. Buck rolled back and
grabbed him even tighter and kissed him on the neck.
“Morgan?”
“Yeah, sweet
baby?”
“I love you.”
“No more’n I
love you, Bubba.”
It was that
night the two boys began to look at life, their relationship, and their
future as young men. They agreed and understood their need and
love for each other. They refused to deny it even though they
knew their lives would inevitably change. Their graduation from high
school was less than a year away and they knew they’d be going off to
war. Buck and Morgan went to enlist. Buck lied about his age and
enlisted at the age of seventeen. He wouldn’t be eighteen until that
August after he graduated from high school. Because he was a big man he
got away with it. Morgan was all ready eighteen. Buck was taken but
Morgan was rejected because he had flat feet. Morgan never knew he had
flat feet and never understood why it would keep him from fighting for
his country.
Buck fought in
two European campaigns and was on Iwo Jima. He led a charge into
a Japanese pill box nest with five other men who turned the tide for
the Americans in the battle for that island. Buck was one of the
men raising the flag on Mount Surabachi in the famous picture that
appeared in Life magazine. They made a bronze statue of that
picture. He was shot up so badly on Iwo Jima they sent him home;
however, as bad as he was shot he managed to drag, pull, and carry to
safety four of the five men who went with him on that charge. Buck was
awarded every medal for heroism our country had to offer and several
purple hearts. He and Audey Murphy were good friends. Buck was the
second highest decorated soldier in World War Two. Buck came home
two weeks before the war was over. He was a returning hero and
everyone loved him. He could do no wrong and his best buddy cried
like a baby in his friend’s arms to have him home again. Buck
cried with him at the ecstacy, relief, and joy of holding his beloved
Morgan in his arms again.
Shortly after
Buck left for the war Morgan met an older woman he fell in love with
who had two kids when he married her; a boy, ten and a girl of
twelve. Waddie Lovejoy came along that first year of their
marriage. Waddie was born about nine months after Buck left for
the war. The name 'Waddie' was a Western slang term for
'cowboy.' A 'waddie' was a cowboy. A 'top Waddie' was a
foreman or ramrod on a ranch. (Not to be confused by the word 'waddy'
which meant an arroyo or creek in Spanish) Morgan wrote
Buck and told him about his new fair haired son with the prettiest blue
eyes. He sent him a small photo Buck carried in his pocket for good
luck all the time he was in combat. Morgan even gave his kid Buck’s
last name as a middle name, Waddie Claymore Lovejoy.
Morgan took his
brother, Buck, to the hospital to meet his new nephew when he
returned home from the war. This huge man, capable of such
unspeakable violence, who, against the better angels of his nature
killed unknown numbers of men to protect his family, town, and way of
life knew no boundaries of gentleness as he took the small man-child
into his big cowboy arms for the first time. Buck took one look
at his namesake and his face became one big uncontrollable grin.
Someone remarked, “He was a’ grinning like a possum eat’n a pile a’ cat
shit.”
Waddie Claymore
Lovejoy awoke in his hospital bed to see a big cowboy enter his room in
a flourish like tornado; he was looking for someone or something.
A smile as wide as Texas came across his handsome face and Waddie
smiled the sweetest smile back at the big cowboy. He knew he was
his Uncle Buck his dad told him so much about. He held out his tiny
arms for Buck to take him. At that moment, one of the greatest
loves the world has ever known, between two men, was born. There was no
doubt in anyone’s mind who witnessed their exchange, their two souls
merged as one.
Then,--- they
were three. Wherever you found, Morgan or Buck, their shadow,
their will-o-the-wisp, their puck, their cowboy, their Waddie, was
always close. Buck used one big arm as a perch for the boy’s butt
and held him steady with the other as he looked searchingly into the
two pools of the child’s liquid blue eyes. He saw the same flash of
mischief in Waddie’s eyes he was said to have himself.
“Hey, little
buddy!” he spoke softly, “So you’re Uncle Buck’s new nephew.
Damned, if you ain’t prettier’n a speckled pup. You got the cutest
little dimple in your chin there. Hell, Son, your daddy couldn’t
a’ made you no finer looking.”
“Howdy, Uncle
Buck. Damn, you’re big.” The toe-headed kid exclaimed to
the delight of the big cowboy holding him. Buck threw back his
handsome head and laughed.
“Waddie!
You’re not suppose to say ‘damn.’” reminded his grandma.
“Well, Hell!
He’s right, Momma, Buck is a damn big man.” his dad came to
Waddie’s defense. Everyone laughed.
“Are you gonna’
be my buddy, Uncle Buck?” Buck Claymore hugged the boy tight,
bussed a kiss behind his ear. How could he say ‘no’ to the beautiful
little boy in his arms?
“Of course I’ll
be your buddy, little one, count on it. Take it to the bank; that’s the
only reason I came home from the war because I heard a rumor you needed
a buddy. I’ll be your buddy until I take my last breath, cowboy.”
“Well, that’s
good, ‘cause I’m gonna’ need somebody to rodeo with.”
Everyone thought
that was cute, but Waddie was serious. He’d been to enough rodeos, he
knew that was what he wanted to be. He wanted to be a rodeo cowboy like
his dad and Uncle Buck. Waddie reached up to touch Buck’s huge, wide
brimmed, felt cowboy hat. His dad scolded him.
“Waddie! You
don’t never touch a cowboy’s hat. That’s just not done. It’s bad
manners, Son.”
“Awww, Hell,
Morgan! My buddy can touch my hat any Goddamn time he wants to. Here
Darlin’, you wanna’ wear ole Uncle Buck’s hat, you can.” Buck put
his size nine and a half hat on the small boy and it fell down around
his face. Everyone laughed.
“Here, let me
adjust it for you, sweet baby.” Buck pushed the brim back so
Waddie’s handsome little face could be seen framed in his buddy’s huge
hat. “Damned, if you don’t look like a buckaroo, Son.” Buck
allowed. “Your buddy will get you one, first thing
tomorrow, that’ll fit your pretty little cowboy head. Would
you like that?”
“Oh, yes,
Sir!” the boy smiled real big, “I love you, Uncle Buck.”
“Oh, sweet baby,
them be the sweetest words this cowboy’s ever heard. Your Uncle
Buck sure as Hell loves you, too.”
* * * * * *
*
A week after
Buck got back from the war, the following Sunday afternoon, Buck went
with Morgan, his wife Judy, Buck and Morgan’s parents to their small
church to have the installation of Buck as Waddie’s Godfather. It
was to be a small informal, family only, service. The whole damn town
turned out. The church was packed. Everyone brought food
and drink and afterwards there was a picnic in the park in celebration.
Buck was installed as Waddie’s Godfather. Waddie and Buck were baptized
at the same service.
Buck didn’t
marry until about a year after he came back from the war. He
married his high school sweetheart, Linda Sue Davenport. Morgan
was his best man and six year old Waddie Claymore Lovejoy, Buck’s
Godson, was his ring bearer. Buck wanted a son in the worst way
but they found out Linda Sue couldn’t have kids. Buck was too
much in love with Linda Sue to consider divorcing her to marry another
woman just so he could have kids. They considered adoption but couldn’t
go through with it. Buck told his best friend,
“If’n
I can’t have a kid from my seed then I just ain’t a’ gonna’ have
no kids. What the Hell,--- I’ll just share yours with you.
We’ve shared everything else all these years. Waddie looks more
like me’n he does you anyway.”
“Well, Hell,
Buck! You’re his damn Godfather for cries sake. I think
that speaks for itself.”
“You know,
Morgan, of all the good things you ever done for me over the years, and
it’s a lot, that’s the best damn thing you ever done. I love you
for that, Brother.” The two big men hugged, slapped each other on
the back and took another pull on a hip flask of Southern Comfort Buck
always carried on him. Morgan Lovejoy would’ve shared anything he
owned including his son with his brother. Even though Waddie was
told to call Buck his uncle, as time passed he began to think of him
more as his second dad. It wasn’t all by generosity or brotherly
love that Morgan saw to it Buck was Waddie’s Godfather.
There was method in his madness.
Buck tried his
damnedest not to monopolize the kid but he just couldn’t turn the child
away when he found his way to his arms. He tried hard not to spoil the
kid but it became increasingly difficult. Buck heard stories from
Waddie and the community he had a hard time believing. Waddie's
life up to the time Buck came home from the war must have been
awful. He never had a birthday party and never got anything from
Santa Clause. These stories plus Waddie's innate charm made Buck decide
since he didn’t even have one kid to spoil, spoiling Morgan’s a little
bit wasn’t gonna’ do that much harm.
After Buck's
return he and Linda Sue made sure their Godson had birthdays and was
always included in Christmas. Waddie got the best presents for
Christmas and his birthday from his Aunt Linda and Uncle Buck. He spent
almost as much time with them as he did at home. It was just as
well. He wasn’t too happy at home except for his dad. He
loved Morgan.
Morgan founded
an automobile repair shop with Buck’s cousin Joe Stewart. Buck
ran for sheriff of the county when he was only twenty-seven. Buck
won and replaced the old sheriff who was known by everyone to be
corrupt. Buck beat him easily in five other elections.
Finally, he got re-elected every election after that because no one
would run against him. They wouldn’t have won if they did. Waddie didn’t
know much about sex until his Uncle Buck had long talks with him about
where he came from. Of course, he got Morgan’s permission first,
and being his dad, Morgan didn’t want the job. His Uncle Buck
swore on an oath he would never lie to his Godson about anything he
asked him. Buck talked to Waddie by the hour. He even drew
pictures. Buck told Waddie if he forgot and ever wanted to ask again,
he was welcome to. When Waddie would ask his dad something about sex
he’d smile and say,
“Gotta’ take
that up with your other dad, Son. That’s his department and he’s
doing a fine job, too; damn fine.”
Even though his
uncle explained carefully he wasn’t real sure he understood it all. His
Uncle Buck straightened him out about one story. He assured
Waddie he wasn’t found in the garden under a cabbage leaf.
Waddie’s ma told him that. He started to not trust his ma after
he found out she lied to him. If she lied to him about that, what
else would she lie to him about? After hearing in lurid detail about
the biological process it takes to produce a baby, Waddie thought if he
had his druthers, he’d rather have been found under a cabbage leaf.
Uncle Buck and
his dad constantly impressed on him the value of telling the
truth. He believed every word they told him and always told the
truth. Waddie was included in Buck and Morgan’s
relationship. He tagged along after them everywhere they
went. As time went by the boy began to see a deep relationship
between his dad and his Uncle Buck no one would notice unless you were
around them a lot and knew the two of them well. Kids pick up on
things quicker than adults give them credit for and Waddie was no
exception. He knew there was something different about the two men’s
relationship but he didn’t understand why. It didn’t really
matter to him much,--- Hell,--- he was loved and included by two of the
most powerful men in the community.
Sometimes they’d
be off by themselves, they’d hold each other and kiss like he’d seen
men do with women. Waddie never thought it was unusual
because they always included him. After they kissed each other,
they’d grab him up and kiss him, too; right on the mouth. He knew
that was part of two people loving each other so he never asked them
about it. He just learned to expect it. It never bothered
Waddie but he knew his dad and Buck’s relationship went beyond anything
he’d witnessed between two brothers. It wasn’t overt but it was
there. They had a deep respect and love for each other like they had
something in common. It was like they shared the same secret.
It certainly
wasn’t like anything Waddie had with his older brother, Willie.
His older brother rejected him completely and wanted nothing to do with
him. It hurt the boy a lot that his brother was so cold and unkind to
him. His two dads did briefly tell him once if a man had a close buddy
they sometimes expressed their love to each other by hugging or kissing
in private but never in public. Waddie was confused because Uncle Buck
was his buddy but he was all the time kissing him in public. He figured
it had something to do with age. Uncle Buck confirmed it for him.
“'At's right,
Son. As you get older it’ll be less appropriate for me to kiss
you in public. Until then,— your old Uncle’s gonna’ steal every
damn kiss he can from his buddy; what say?”
“I like you
stealing my kisses, Uncle Buck. I save ‘em up for you to steal.
Ain’t nobody can steal a kiss like you can, but one of these days I’m
gonna’ catch your ass, lock you in my jail, and throw away the damn
key.” Buck was laughing his ass off. He knew he was
being set up but just had to bite.
“Okay, cowboy,
where’s your jail?”
“In my heart,
Uncle Buck. I’m gonna’ make you give every damn one of them kisses back
and then we’ll talk parole.” Buck started to laugh,
stopped, hugged Waddie to him and feigned seriousness.
“Arrest me,
cowboy, I’m a’ turning myself in right now.” Then they both
fell out laughing.
Morgan and Buck
would almost always take Waddie hunting or fishing with them. Besides,
Buck wouldn’t let Morgan leave Waddie behind for a second. He was
Buck’s namesake, his Godson. Buck doted on his Godson and took his job
as Godfather seriously.
Waddie got use
to them taking off for a while by themselves to take a walk, they
called it. Waddie thought they were going to have a pull off Buck’s
metal hip flask he always carried. When they came back they’d both be
laughing, relaxed, in a happy mood and have Southern Comfort on their
breath. Waddie never minded they took off by themselves. He
loved them both. He would’ve hated to have to choose between
them. They never put him in that position. They were comfortable having
the boy around. Their ways were slowly becoming his ways and he fit
right in.
One afternoon in
the summer of his seventh year Waddie’s dad and uncle took him on a
weekend fishing trip on the river near their small town. It was
late afternoon, and they were fishing all day. They didn’t catch much,
but Waddie was a die hard fisherman and wasn’t about to give up.
His dad and Uncle Buck left him to take one of their walks. Waddie saw
a huge cottonwood tree up stream about fifty yards that overhung and
shaded the river. He picked up his gear and headed for the
tree. As he came out from behind some boulders he saw his Uncle
Buck with his levis down on his boot tops, his dad on his knees in
front of his uncle, his mouth engorged with his uncle’s big dick, his
head going up and down like he was bobbing for apples.
His Uncle Buck
looked up and saw Waddie. Waddie moved back like he was shocked to see
them and didn’t understand what they were doing. Buck could whistle
real loud with his two fingers to his mouth. He called Waddie to him
many times that way. Waddie heard the whistle. He knew his uncle
was calling him but he felt embarrassed to go to him. Not from what he
saw them doing but because he felt he invaded their privacy. He was
more afraid of being scolded. He heard his uncle give a second short
whistle and knew he had to obey him. He walked out from behind the
large rock and slowly walked toward the two men. His Uncle Buck
pulled up his levis, returned his cock to his pants, but didn’t get his
belt buckled. His dad had a funny smile on his face but his uncle held
out his hand for Waddie to come to him. Buck squatted down,
took the boy’s hand, pulled him into his arms, hugged and kissed him.
Somehow, that
simple gesture changed the way Waddie felt about what was going on. His
Uncle Buck’s kiss told him he was welcome, not to be disturbed by what
he saw and if he wanted to know what they were doing he only had to
ask. What he quickly observed from the look on his uncle’s face his dad
had to be making Uncle Buck’s dick feel really good, but what was the
purpose? Waddie wondered if his dad was drinking his uncle’s
piss. Then it clicked in his head a term the boys at school threw
around at each other but no one knew what it meant.
“Is that what
they call a ‘blow job,’ Uncle Buck?” Waddie quietly asked his uncle.
Morgan looked at Buck and nodded to tell him the truth.
“Yes, Son, it
is.”
Things were
beginning to get a little clearer in Waddie’s mind as to his dad and
uncle’s relationship. He didn’t think it was bad but he knew it
was not the norm. Didn’t look too bad to him at all. He wouldn’t push
but he was wondering if, later, he would get to be included in this
game. He wouldn’t mind tasting that big dick of his uncle’s. He wasn’t
sure he could get his little mouth around the head let alone suck on
it. Then he thought he wouldn’t mind trying to suck his old man’s
quarter pounder either. If nothing else he could dress it up in Betsy
McCall clothes. “Why do you do
it?”
“‘Cause we love
each other, it feels good and we like the taste of the juice that comes
out. Ya’ see, Son, when a boy grows into a man certain things
happen to his body. He begins to produce the sperm I told you
about and that’s what your dad just sucked out of me.”
“Do you give my
dad blow jobs?”
“Sure do,
Youngster. We done it to each other for years. Since we was
kids, then later when we was old enough to shoot. Ain’t nothing
wrong with it between two buddies or brothers like your dad and
me. Ain’t nobody’s business but ours but now you caught us it’s
your business, too.”
“You know I
won’t never say nothing, Uncle Buck. I understand it’s private. That’s
why I didn’t come when you called me the first time ‘cause I was
embarrassed I invaded your privacy not because I thought anything bad
about what I saw.”
“Well, that’s
fine. I trust you and if you and your brother have a hanker’n for
each other we won’t say nothing and respect you men’s privacy.”
That’s all that
was said about it and the three men had a wonderful afternoon; however,
from that time on all barriers were dropped. They explained to
Waddie their relationship and made him understand he must keep their
secret because now their secret was his secret as well. They wanted to
keep it a secret from him but they weren’t mad at him for finding
out. They just wanted him to know he and they had a right to
privacy. What they did was their business and no one else’s.
Waddie no longer
felt shy around them. He felt like he’d been included in their
most intimate secret. With the naked poker parties he had
attended for years they taught Waddie not to be shy around grown men
when naked. Waddie could feel any part of his dad or Uncle Buck
he wanted as long as he asked politely. They slept together
in the raw. Waddie loved it. He thought this was the
way God intended for men to sleep together. It made it so much easier
if he wanted to reach over and grab hold of his dad’s dick or put his
Uncle Buck’s big bull prick between his little legs to keep it warm for
him. Waddie became use to seeing his dad and Uncle Buck
naked. He and his buddies thought nothing of it. It was something
men did with each other now and then but they didn’t advertize it or
tell others. Once a man was included, one they felt comfortable
enough to invite to join them, it became an unspoken bond between them.
The strangest
and most wonderful time was when Waddie was about ten years old. One
afternoon in late August he and his uncle went swimming on the
old ‘Cowhouse Creek.’ Waddie swore he would never forget
that afternoon as long as he lived. His uncle agreed he wouldn’t
either. It was a turning point in their relationship and they
both realized it. Buck had a small ranch in the country away from
town where the creek ran through. His dad was going to be out of
town for several days and many things had happened Morgan didn’t feel
comfortable leaving Waddie with his mother and step-siblings.
It was the
summer of Waddie’s tenth year and he was just beginning to show signs
puberty paid him a visit. Morgan left him with Buck for the four days
he’d be gone. They drove out to Buck’s ranch to do some much needed
repairs. Waddie didn’t know how much help he could be but
he was willing to try and ended up working his butt off for his buddy.
Waddie did mostly clean up work but he was a tiger at it. The
only reward Waddie wanted was his uncle’s thanks and approval. When he
was through he went to see if he could help his uncle.
“I’m sorry I
can’t be more help to ya,' Uncle Buck. I just don’t know too
much about repairing things, yet,--- but I’ve learned a Hell of a
lot from you today. That’ll help in the future.”
“Let your old
Uncle Buck tell you something, Son. It ain’t the amount of work I get
out of you that’s important. It’s you being my buddy and
keeping me company what’s important to me. I like having you
around. You'n me, well,--- we’re a team. We’re buddies. The times I’ve
come out here and brought you along, I got twice the amount of things
done than when I come out here by myself.”
“Well, let old
Waddie tell you something, Uncle Buck.” he smiled imitating his
uncle down to his speech patterns hitching up his jeans in imitation of
the way he'd seen is uncle do a thousand times, “God alone knows how
much I love being around you.”
Buck couldn't
answer. The big cowboy pulled his bandana from of his back pocket to
pretend to wipe the sweat from his brow. He didn’t want his little
buddy to see the tears that would soon be dropping from his leaky eyes.
He finished by blowing his nose real big. Waddie knew; Buck didn’t fool
him for a minute. Waddie didn’t help matters when he gently laid his
hand on his uncle’s shoulder in understanding. Buck spun on his boot
heel and pulled the boy into his arms, hugged Waddie to him and sobbed
his heart out in the boy’s arms. Waddie soothed, petted and
kissed his beloved uncle on his head as he held the big man.
“Oh, God, I love
you, Waddie. I love you like you were my own son. I’ve never
admitted that to a live’n soul, not even your dad, my brother, but I do
Waddie. I do! I just can’t help it. ”
“You don’t love
me a whit more’n I love you, Uncle Buck. You’re my Godfather, ain’t
cha’? That makes me your son, don’ it? I am your son, Dad. Your mind
just won't let your heart believe it, yet,— but chu' will someday,—
soon. If you believe hard enough and ask God for what chu' want,—
my angel said he’d give it to you. Ask him, Uncle Buck! Ask
him and I will, too.”
“Aww fuck it,
Waddie! I believe it now, Son. You know how much I love you and,
damn it, I ain’t a’ gonna’ be afraid no more to tell nobody.
You’n me, cowboy,— we been through too much crap together these
last few years not for me to feel like you was my boy. I’m just afraid
of hurt’n my brother. Aww,— well,— Hell! What the fuck! Let’s us
quit this here working shit and have us some fun.”
It was hot that
afternoon and after the tools were put away Waddie and Buck rounded up
some pretty good size wild calves. Waddie would hold the calf
while Buck tied a halter rope around the calf’s neck. Buck would
pick Waddie up, set him on the calf and let go. Waddie would grab hold
of the rope for dear life and the calf would go crazy trying to buck
him off. They were having a ball until about the fifth ride the
damn calf bucked Waddie off into a fresh, juicy cow pie. Waddie slowly
got up with a horrible look on his face with his nose all scrunched up
like the smell was terrible.
Buck tried to
keep his composure and affect some sympathy for his nephew;
but,---as hard as he tried he couldn’t help himself. He started
laughing and couldn’t stop. He finally bent over double with
laughter at the look on his poor nephew's face. The big cowboy
thought that was about the funniest damn thing he’d ever seen. Poor
Waddie met a killer meadow muffin. The more he laughed the worse Waddie
felt,---until he began to see the humor in it all himself.
He started
laughing at Buck who was in hysterics and then laughed harder at how he
must look; but, he was born with a twinkle in his eye and thought his
uncle was having a bit too much merriment at his expense. Waddie picked
up the cow pie and threw it straight at Buck. Buck looked up from
laughing to see why Waddie wasn’t laughing anymore just in time to feel
the cow pie hit him,--- splat,--- right in the middle of his big chest.
His eyes opened wide. His nostrils flared like a bull’s. It was
obvious, Buck hadn’t expected that turn of event. It was Waddie’s turn
to fall on the ground laughing at his uncle covered in cow shit. He
stood and pointed his finger at Buck, bending over double from laughter.
“Why you
little,— ” Buck yelled, “when I catch you I’m gonna’ turn you over my
knee and spank your little butt so hard you won’t be able to sit down
for a week.” He could barely get the words out he was laughing so
hard. Buck started running after Waddie. Waddie, took off
like a scalded hound. He was running, laughing and screaming. He was
fast; faster than his big bull of an uncle but his uncle had endurance.
They must have run around that arena half a dozen times. Waddie would
keep the calves between him and his uncle. He’d stop, point at his
uncle and fall out laughing again. It only set Buck’s jaw and
made him more determined than ever to catch him. Finally, Waddie began
to get tired and Buck caught him as he was about to try and escape over
the corral fence. He started tickling Waddie and had the kid in
hysterics. Waddie was wiggling and laughing calling Buck a spoil sport.
“Put me down!
Put me down! You damn well better put me down, you big overgrown
gorilla, if’n you know what’s good for you. Who the Hell you think you
are, King Kong? Well, I ain’t no Fay Wray and there ain’t no big
buildin’s around these, here, parts for a couple hunner’t miles.
‘Sides, my Goddamn uncle just happens to be sheriff of this, here,
county. He also happens to be my Godfather. He’ll have you
horsewhipped for this. That man’s crazy about me and you don’t e---ven
want that big man pissed at chu.' He’ll kick your butt so far up
between your shoulder blades, you’ll have to stand on your fucking head
to take a shit. I’m a’ telling you, he’s a mean-ass som’ bitch. Why,
I’ve seen him rip a man’s head clean off with his bare hands just so’s
he could shit down his neck.” Waddie was yelling at Buck.
Buck was
laughing at Waddie’s tirade so hard he had tears running down his face.
Waddie went limp in his arms and stopped struggling. He was quiet like
he heard the sound of a distant voice calling him. He cocked his head
to one side as if listening or trying to hear something. Buck watched
him closely looking into his nephew’s dirty, yet wonderfully, beautiful
face. It was the face of a young, handsome cowboy who was beginning to
bloom into a full grown young man. One to be reckoned with.
A couple more steps, a few more days, a month and he would no longer be
a young boy. He wouldn’t be his little buddy anymore.
The boy smiled
the sweetest smile and placed his small hand on Buck’s face to look
deeply into his eyes. In that moment, they reached out with their
love to each other and touched souls. This big man, the most powerful
man in the county, second most highly decorated man in World War
Two, probably the meanest, butt stomping cowboy in the state of
Texas, the Sheriff of his county, was stripped bare of his
defenses. He knew he belonged to this beautiful, cowshit covered boy he
held in his arms. He knew in his heart it was right. He also knew he
owned Waddie’s soul. It was his, the boy was freely giving it to him.
It was an even exchange. Was this what Waddie was talking about;
believing he was his son? Waddie never lied to him but he could
say some of the strangest damn things sometime that made Buck have to
stop and think.
The big man’s
heart was beating so strongly in his chest he thought if he ever had a
coronary this would probably be how it began. His heart was beating
strongly, not from the running and chasing, but the overpowering
realization that this boy meant more to him than just a buddy; he
excited Buck in a way that was one of the most powerful things he ever
felt in his life. He began to lower Waddie onto his big chest until the
boy’s chest was on top of his, their faces closer together and, then,
he felt it.
Buck felt the
same strong beat from Waddie’s heart beating against his chest and it
was beating opposite Bucks. That seemed to make each of their
hearts beat more pronounced against the other. Then the damnedest thing
happened. As they were gazing into each other’s eyes. Waddies’s
heart hiccuped, but, then, it settled into perfect sync with
Buck’s big heart and the strength of their two heart beats combined was
overwhelming to both. They knew their hearts now beat as
one. 'Surely this must be what Waddie was talking about,' thought
Buck.
Buck opened his
mouth slightly in awe of what was passing between them as they looked
into each other’s eyes. It was one of those rare moments when two
people know, because of their love for each other they’ve bonded as
one. They have shared a joy that goes beyond age, gender, race or
creed, even beyond description and there is no power great enough to
keep them from spiraling into each other or to deny them expressing
their love to one another.
Their faces
seemed to be drawn to each other like light or matter to a black hole.
Waddie and Buck joined mouths together with all the passion of two
lovers. Full mouth, devouring each other, flowing back and forth
between their wells; drinking deeply, outside the continuum of time and
space, in their own world of reality. They felt their hearts beating
even more strongly in even sync. It felt as if their hearts were
trying to get to each other. The stronger Buck’s heart beat the
stronger Waddie’s heart joined with his until their souls were
conjoined.
Strangely,—
neither was shy nor afraid of the love they felt for each other. They
knew it was right. Waddie knew his love for Buck was meant to be;
probably more so than Buck. The universe and their love was
unfolding as it should. They were only a microcosm of the greater whole
but without that seemingly insignificant spark of their love as part of
a greater plan, the universe quite possibly might cease to be.
Neither held back as they traveled deeper into each other’s need to
share a greater love; to give to each other an unquestioned love they
knew they had no power but to commit to. They both realized what they
were doing. They may have been placed slightly higher than the
angels in the scheme of things but they were still animals with raw
primal urges which lie dormant in man’s collective subconscious.
Neither, man nor boy, could’ve been classified as representative of his
genus “wise ape” at that moment; however, they both could have been
poster boys for 'Homo erectus.'
Was it
sexual? Bet your ass it was sexual and both of them knew it.
Pretty words and beautiful comparisons come to mind at a time like
this; however, metaphysics, Zin, Jung and especially Freud be damned,
they both wanted to fall on top of each other, roll in the dirt of the
arena, rut it out like two animals in heat, down and dirty, get it all
over themselves, and express their physical lust for each other until
they exceeded. Buck’s David called to Waddie’s Johnathan.
“No, go further,
the arrow is beyond you.”
Waddie was so
ready and willing to give it to Buck, he would’ve served it up to him
on Buck’s turkey platter, rodeo belt buckle if he could. He
desperately wanted it, but knew in his heart it might not be good for
his buddy. He wasn’t unaware of the responsibility on Buck’s part from
such an action.
Waddie
didn’t out-right tell him he wanted it but he let his buddy know he was
receptive if his uncle dropped the gauntlet. The way he touched
Buck’s face before he kissed him. The way he gently took Buck’s hand in
his. The way he looked deep into Buck’s eyes then lay his smaller head
on his shoulder. Buck knew and Waddie knew, there was no doubt in
either of their minds that each craved to be closer to the other.
Waddie was aware he was trying to seduce his uncle. He even knew what
the word meant and how to spell it.
Waddie would’ve
never questioned Buck. He would’ve simply given himself to him. He
trusted Buck and would’ve carried the secret of their love to his
grave. Waddie had grown to love Buck more and more over the years and
spent almost as much time with Buck and his Aunt Linda Sue as he did at
home. Morgan never seemed threatened. He encouraged their love. Waddie
was old enough to know the difference between a brotherly kiss and a
kiss that speaks a universal message that says,
‘Holding you
this way is pleasant to me and excites me physically; however, as
reasoning animals, men, created in the image of our maker, we’re given
the ability to make choices for ourselves. We have a choice. We
can pursue this to climax or we can use it as a mortar to bind us even
closer. One is temporary and the other builds a foundation for a
greater love and trust. Bank it, invest it, compound the interest, then
reap the sweetest of dividends.' Waddie got a roaring hard-on and
so did Buck. They broke it off and Waddie lay his head on Buck’s
big chest.
“God, I love
you, Uncle Buck. Ain’t never had no buddy like you. You’ll always be my
bestest buddy. I’d be proud and honored to be your son if you want me,
Uncle Buck.”
“You know my
answer without asking, Son. I love you, too, Waddie, more’n you’ll ever
know.” Buck’s voice was different. Like he was trying to choke
the words out and there was something stuck in his throat.
“Now, what say
you and me go down to the creek, take a swim, cool off and wash the
cowshit off our clothes?”
Buck chose the
second option. His little buddy meant too much to him to throw it all
away on a temporary, short lived, pleasure. He knew he could’ve
had it. God knows, he wanted it. Buck never wanted anything
so badly in his life than to share physical love with this man-child he
had come to love so dearly. The single greatest temptation of his adult
life the big man resisted because his love was greater than his lust.
In that simple decision he made the transition from animal to the
status his God had originally assigned him, slightly higher than an
angel. This was one man, Lucifer, the most comely of the archangels,
the bearer of light, would have humbly bowed down before.
“Good idea,
Uncle Buck. You smell like an old heifer what’s ate too many butter
bean hulls and got the runs.”
“Oh, yeah?
Well, you don’t smell like no damn flower neither.” They broke up
laughing again. The two boys, a very large boy and a small one, two
buddies, were off on another adventure. Another chance to
share their growing love for each other. It was a beautiful,
warm, afternoon. They rinsed their clothes and hung them on a
branch to dry. They swam in the clear water of the creek and
tried to catch fish with their hands. It seemed so natural to
them being there in the nude. Waddie owned Buck’s soul and he
knew it. He held it in the palm of his hand but he loved Buck so
much he entrusted his own soul to his buddy.
Buck was a big
ole cowboy. Broad at the shoulders and narrow at the hips; hung
just slightly smaller than a Brahma bull and proud of it. Weren’t
nothing shy about Buck. He was all man and could back it up. He
could be one of the meanest kick-ass cowboys you’d never want to
anger. There were a few tales about people being roughed up by
the sheriff and his deputies because they felt brave enough to piss
them off. Around Waddie, Buck was the gentlest of
men. He was not beyond a little rough housing and horseplay with
his buddy but there was a time to work, a time to play and a time to
drink from each other’s seemingly endless supply of love for each other.
One reason
Waddie loved the big man; he wasn’t afraid to let the little boy inside
come out and play with his nephew. They played for hours in the
shady pool of cool water. It was one of the best afternoons they ever
spent together. Waddie hoped that afternoon, his first
adult sexual partner, would be his beloved uncle. There was no
doubt in his mind, he wanted it to be. He didn’t think about the
conflict of two males laying down together. Waddie knew the way it was
‘suppose’ to be but he loved and trusted his uncle so much he knew he
would show him the way. He realized he was foolish to think a
grown man of Uncle Buck’s stature might take the chance of being
compromised. Waddie didn’t want that for this man he loved so
much. He resigned himself to stop trying to seduce his
uncle,--- tomorrow,--- for the rest of the afternoon, Buck was
fair game. It was open season on baggin’ a sheriff, Waddie thought to
himself and giggled at his own silliness. He knew he wouldn’t.
He realized
without the words being spoken, Buck would let Waddie know when
he thought he was ready, and when Buck was ready to take him. Waddie
was comfortable with Buck’s decision. He knew to wait would make it all
the more wonderful when the big man followed him into a room, turned,
locked the door behind them, and came to him to continue the kiss they
began that afternoon. The thought, the image, his excitement knowing
his uncle would take him for his first time, lay quiet, peaceful and
still on the back roads of his memory, gentle on Waddie’s mind. God
gave them that special afternoon because He knew the boy’s dream was
not to be.
Three bright
angels wrapped their wings about him to give him grace. Buck looked in
awe at the beauty and transcendence of Waddie’s body. In one
moment he changed from an animal of nature to a child of God as one
strong ray of light illuminated the boy from the darkness of the
shade. Buck felt the presence of God and fell to his knees. He didn’t
want to frighten Waddie but remained watching the ray follow him around
in his play. Buck knew this was a sign, a validation, he made the right
choice. The Old Man looked upon Buck’s soul and saw that it was good.
This man was his son in whom he was well pleased.
They swam in the
coolness of the creek; Buck’s powerful body underneath Waddie’s. The
boy would have his hands on his uncle’s massive shoulder and let Buck
piggy-back him across the deepest part of the water. It was
twenty to thirty feet deep in places. The pool was created out of
an old limestone quarry. The only place on Earth anyone has found pink
limestone. A geological anomaly. The limestone was quarried for
two Texas county court houses. Since the eighteen hundreds the quarry
became natural swimming pools for the locals. The community would
get together each spring and clean it of debris. The water was so pure,
clean and tasted wonderful after running over miles of limestone to get
there. You could see all the way to the bottom. There was no murkiness
or algae as the limestone raised the alkalinity of the water so high it
was undesirable to the plant.
Buck was neither
afraid to pull Waddie up to him and kiss him nor reach down playfully
and pull on his dick. It would send Waddie into gales of laughter. Buck
would swim up behind him underwater grab Waddie from behind and blow
bubbles up the crack of his ass. Waddie would go bananas, yelling
and giggling not only from the tickling sensation but the sheer ecstacy
of sharing such an intimate, sensual form of play with his beloved
uncle.
Because of Buck
being Sheriff of the county and Waddie’s own responsibilities,
the two men rarely got a chance to be alone and spend quality time with
each other. They were wallowing in the joy of each other’s
companionship and play. Buck would lay back, grab a mouthful of
water and Waddie would have both small hands around Buck’s bull dick.
He would pump it up and down. Buck would throw back his head and
expel the water through pursed lips as if Waddie were pumping it from
him. Waddie called him his ‘pee-pee pump.’ “Buck could see
Waddie’s creative imagination growing by leaps and bounds. He was
always looking at things in a different way than other folks.
Waddie got to studying Buck’s huge hulking frame and decided they were
going to play “up periscope/down periscope” and Buck’s body was to be
his submarine. You have to use your imagination for that one;
Waddie did. Buck knew this play was not what they both wanted so
desperately but it came pretty damn close. Waddie knew what Buck was
doing and he quickly joined in the spirit of inventive play. Waddie
would play with Buck’s butt hole to the big man’s delight and made his
eyes get real big when Waddie slipped his finger in to feel
around. Waddie understood the rules, what he explored on someone
else, gave them right to do the same to him.
“Be careful,
Young’un!” Buck smiled at him. “You do that again you might lose
your hand. There's teeth down there what'll bite that curious
little finger of yours plumb off.”
“Y'ain’t got no
teeth down there, Uncle Buck.”
“Yeah? I
wouldn't be s'damn sure 'bout that if'n I was you. I told you
about it when we was talking about sex, don’cha’
remember? Told ju’ all about it. You just
forgot. It's something a man develops when he’s about your age,
another set of teeth down there as sort of a spare pair. Where the Hell
you think false teeth come from?” Buck told him seriously in his
best West Texas bullshit artist, dead pan face. Waddie almost
bought it but looked for the telltail sign in Buck’s eyes, a twinkle,
and,--- there it was. He saw it. A dead giveaway.
“Aww, Uncle
Buck, I didn’t just fall off no turnip truck. Besides all I
have to do is glance at your headlights. If’n you got your fogs
on I know I’m gettin’ smoke blown up my butt.” The boy threw back
his head and laughed at his uncle. “I’ve seen you eat, remember?
As much as you like to chow down you’d be eat’n at both ends if that
were true.” He splashed water in his uncle’s smiling face.
“Yeah?
Well, then, where would I shit?”
“Out your belly
button.” Waddie howled with laughter at trumping his uncle.
“Think you’re
pretty damn smart, don’cha, Kid? You better never try’n
slip that little hand in Uncle Buck’s bunghole,--- you’ll get it bitten
off. Then what'll ya' jack off with?”
“Oh, Hell, Uncle
Buck, I don’t never have to worry ‘bout that.”
“You
don’t? Why?”
“You’d do it for
me.” Then Waddie laughed and splashed water in his face again.
“You’re right.
Ya’ got me there, pod’ner. Of course, I would, but don’t be so
damn smug about it, ya' little shit. Always remember to leave a
man his pride.” Then he proceeded to dunk his nephew.
After a while,
Waddie and Buck got tired and decided to lay on a clean sandbar in the
warmth of the late afternoon sun. It made them both sleepy.
Waddie had never been taught to be shy about holding or feeling his dad
or Buck’s dicks. He backed his little ass up to Buck’s crotch and felt
the big man getting hard. He reached behind him and placed Buck’s
dick between his smaller legs then with both hands held that which
protruded out from underneath Waddie’s little balls. Buck let out
a deep sigh and put his arms around Waddie to pull him closer. He
bussed a kiss behind the boy’s ear and whispered to him.
“I thank God
ever' day he gimme’ such a fine buddy as you, Waddie. Don’t know what
I’d do without my little buddy. I thought I knew what love was all
about until God sent me you. That feels so good you keeping Uncle
Buck’s dick warm like that. I just want you to know how much I
appreciate it. Some of the best times you and me’s ever had was lying
close like this. It means a lot to me to hold my little buddy
close.” Waddie looked into Buck’s eyes knowing this was no
bullshit, his big buddy was being serious and loving.
Once again Buck
gently placed his mouth on Waddie’s but this kiss was different and
Waddie felt it; he understood it’s message. It was the gentle
kiss of a protecting angel that told the boy not to feel rejected if
the big man didn’t respond to his need to give. He was older and
knew about these things. The time was not right. There
would be a time Buck would gladly and lovingly accept his offer, but
not now, not today. Waddie returned Buck’s kiss with the same, almost
holy, communion. Buck knew, without asking, this was what Waddie was
talking about. He so desperately wanted to believe Waddie was his
son.
Though it was
physically stimulating to them, there was nothing sexual in their kiss.
It was the kiss from the man-child that dwelled inside the big man to
the man-child he held in his arms. It was, once again, the bonding of
two boys as friends and buddies Buck shared with Waddie’s dad all those
years ago and started a love they still shared. It was also
more. It was greater, deeper and more meaningful than any love
Buck shared with his brother or his wife for that matter, but it didn’t
frighten him. In his kiss was also the love of a father for a son. It
was a kiss that said,
'Don’t be afraid
to trust and share with me; I’m not afraid to trust and share
with you. Let our lives flow in and out of each other with joy, peace,
compassion and unconditional love. Let us share a love that knits up
the unraveled sleeve of care and is the Carpenter’s glue for a greater
personal understanding; a hope for tomorrow, a foundation for a new
humanity which can only begin here and now, with us.'
They lay there
in the warm afternoon sun with Waddie’s head resting on the big man’s
arm and Buck’s big, right hand cupped around Waddie’s little cock and
balls. They went to sleep and didn’t wake until the sun was going down
when they began to get chilled. They got up, gathered their dry clothes
and started putting them on. Waddie laughed and pointed at Buck.
“Hey, Buckaroo,
you still got a big ole hard-on.”
“Well, what
about you, Howdy Doody? You could run a flag up that pole between
your legs.”
That struck
Waddie as the funniest damn thing anyone ever said to him. He
laughed and giggled all the way back to town. His Uncle Buck once again
turned over his giggle box. Buck and he were still laughing when Buck
took him to his home for the night. Buck’s lovely wife, Linda
Sue, was visiting relatives in Dallas for the weekend and the two men
had the run of the house to themselves. Waddie’s dad wasn’t due in ‘til
the next night.
“They showered
together. Waddie washed all of Buck he could. He even gently
washed under the foreskin of Buck’s dick. He was very careful because
he knew how sensitive it was. Buck got a big ole hard-on again
and Waddie laughed at him. Then it was Buck’s turn to wash the
boy. Waddie could tell how much the big man loved him from the
way he washed his body. Of course, Waddie got a roaring boner,
too. It was Buck’s turn to laugh. They got out and toweled
each other dry. Waddie took great care to dry Buck’s massive back
and shoulders. They both resigned themselves to wearing hard-ons the
whole time they were together. They knew they turned each other
on. Hell, they were use to it by now; although, it didn’t stop
them from razzing each other. Between Buck and Waddie, anything was
fair game for humor. They enjoyed each other’s company. As Waddie
would say, “They was buddies!”
They had a
little dinner and went into the den to watch T.V. Buck was the
first man in the county to own his own T.V. A small round tube about
nine inches in diameter. There was only one station. They sat on a huge
comfortable couch that sort of wrapped itself around them. It was soft
and sensual to their naked bodies and both got roaring hard
again. Waddie crawled up into Buck’s big lap and got comfortable.
Waddie turned his head up to look at Buck, their eyes met and Buck
distinctly heard in his mind, Waddie’s voice ask him, ‘Please, kiss me,
Uncle Buck.’ He laughed at himself for being silly but kissed his
nephew gently and Waddie drifted off to sleep. Once he thought he felt
his big buddy kiss him on his forehead as he pushed his hair back. He
could swear he felt rain drops, but they were warm. He knew, from
within the comfortable fog of coasting between the isle of dreams and
the shore he’d just sailed from, he was inside. Oh, well,...
‘Why do I love
this boy so much?’ Buck wondered to himself.
‘Because he’s
the epitome of everything you ever wanted in a son. He’s
athletic, he was born with his boots on, he’s got a brain up in
lights, he’s funny, he’s charming, he’s
unassuming, he don’t ask for much, he’s giving, he’s
compassionate, he’s sensitive, when he knows he’s right he
won’t back down from any son of a bitch, there’s no sounding the
depths of his love, and best or worst of all the little shit even looks
like you.’
Buck didn’t
realize his eyes were watering and dropping on Waddie’s face. He must
be allergic to something in the room, he thought. The big cowboy didn’t
even try to wrestle with his physical attraction to the boy. He just
accepted it. It was there. There was no question in his
mind he would someday share that with Waddie, but he would have
to be old enough to make that choice for himself. Buck wouldn’t
force him nor seduce him. Now, if he can only manage to survive
Waddie’s seduction. There was no doubt in his mind Waddie wanted him as
much as he wanted Waddie.
‘I’m the
adult!’ he thought to himself, ‘I will be strong for my son.’
‘Your son?’ a
small counter-voice questioned him.
‘Yes, Goddamn
it! My son. He’s as much mine as he is Morgan’s. Morgan gave me half of
him. He’s my Godson for cries sake. I’d give Morgan half if he was
mine.’
‘Would you,
Buck? Would you really give Morgan half of Waddie if he was your
son?’ the same small voice asked within his mind. Buck paused for
a long moment before answering. ‘It’ knew the truth whether Buck
admitted it or not.
‘Why lie?’ he
told himself.
‘No.’ he
thought quietly.
‘I didn’t think
so.’ replied the voice gently with no judgment. Buck could swear
he felt a gentle hand on his bare shoulder. It was warm and
understanding. He could swear he heard a voice whisper in his
ear, 'Soon...'
‘I’ll never tell
a soul I think of him as my son; maybe I’ll tell Waddie one day.
Please, God, help me. Please, Lord, where do I sort out my
physical passion from my need to parent this child? If I am
to be his parent, is it possible for him to be my son, Sir? He
told me to ask you and,— Sir,— if’n there’s anyway you could give us a
miracle and make this boy mine I would be most grateful, Lord. My
bother don’t seem to appreciate him the way I do, Lord. I know
it’s wrong to covet my brother’s son and I ask forgiveness, Sir.
Help me, Lord,—
Oh, dear God in
heaven, I love this boy,' Buck thought to himself, 'He’s become
me and I’ve become him. He thinks like I do. We read each other’s
thoughts. One glance and I can tell what’s on his mind. He walks like I
do. He’s learned to imitate my speech patterns. He talks like me.
Everyone in town, including Morgan, is calling him Little Buck or Buck
Jr. Oh, God, if he only was my son. I’m not ungrateful, Lord, he’s
here, laying in my lap asleep. I’ve had, probably, the best damn
day of my life with this kid. Heaven couldn’t be much better’n today
was, Lord.’ Tears started rolling down Buck’s handsome
face. This time it wasn’t from an allergy. ‘I thank you for every
minute you let me have with him,— but, Sir,— I beg you, with all my
heart, to forgive me. Please, forgive me when I lay here and
think, for all the love I have for my beloved brother, Morgan, who I
would gladly lay down my life for and proved it; he’s not half
the kindred spirit Waddie is to me. Oh, God and Morgan, please, forgive
me for even having the thought.’
Buck thought it
possible he loved Waddie more than he could’ve loved his own son
if he had one. There was just something about the kid, he
couldn’t put into words. He didn’t dare tell Morgan he thought Waddie
was the kid he was suppose to have and the heavenly baby delivery
service sent the right package to the wrong address. He thanked
God that evening for his beautiful wife who couldn’t give him children
but whom he never stopped loving for a moment when they found out. He
would never leave her. He believed in the vows he said to her. The big
man thanked his God again for trusting him with the treasure he had in
Waddie’s love.
Waddie slept
peacefully in his big cowboy buddy’s arms, his Godfather, the man
who he was coming to love above all others including his dad. He
loved his dad but things had happened; terrible things. He wasn’t
sure his dad loved him anymore. Waddie was forced to invest his
love in others but it was so easy to love his huge, protective, cowboy
uncle. His heart felt loved unconditionally, and his soul was at peace
sheltered in Buck's protective arms. God help him, he wanted to be
Buck's son. He was awakened by movement and could swear his dad was
stretched out next to his uncle, naked as a jay bird. They were
kissing each other. He thought it was a natural thing for them to
be doing. He'd seen them do it so many times. Though Waddie was
no longer sure of his dad's love for him, he still loved his dad.
Waddie reached his hand out to his dad, gently pulled him to him
and kissed him on the mouth. Then he promptly moved back to sleep
in the safety and comfort of his Godfather’s arms. Before he drifted
off to sleep, Waddie sent a prayer to heaven.
'Thank you, God,
for my two dads. Help my dad learn to love and trust me, Lord.
Thank you for a wonderful day to be with and love my Uncle Buck. He's
so good to me. You are, too, and I love you, Sir.' The Old Man
smiled and found favor with the man-child. He sent one of his swiftest,
brightest angels, Urial, to expel his holy breath across the
sleeping boy and give to him,— the gift of wonder.