Cabbage Patch Cowboy
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 4

Morgan didn't hang around. He paid his respects to Buck's parents, hugged and kissed Waddie and told him to mind his Uncle Buck.

"I love you, Dad. Don't worry,— we'll work things out somehow. I have faith in you."

"I love you, too, Son. I feel better about you being here. For now, it's the right thing to do. See, Baby, Daddy's trying." Waddie hugged and kissed his dad one last time. Morgan left and his uncle told Waddie to come upstairs with him. Waddie came to the bottom of the stairs and his uncle couldn't help picking him up and carrying him up the stairs. Waddie felt like a young prince with his own man servant to cater to his needs. Buck and his parents showed Waddie more love the first afternoon in their home than Waddie ever got from the three in his home.

"One of these days, I'm gonna' turn around and you'll be too big for me to pick up. You don't mind Uncle Buck getting in a lot of this while you're still small, do you? Then I can remember how wonderful and special you were to me when you were this size. I have a feeling you're going to be wonderful and special to me for many years to come."

"Lord, no, Uncle Buck. I don't mind. It'll keep my boots from wearing out."

Buck roared with laughter but Waddie was thinking, 'Did he just call me wonderful? Special? No one's ever called me wonderful or special before.' Buck took Waddie into his big room. It was not unlike the man who lived there; huge. It was on a corner of the house and boasted eight windows; four on each side. It was originally two large bedrooms with a bath next to the other. Buck and his dad, with Morgan's help, knocked out the wall between the two rooms.  Since it was a main bearing wall they had to run a heavy laminated header across the span, brace it on the ends and equally spaced with two other post. The two rooms together made one huge room. When the windows were open there was always a nice current of air though the room.

The room smelled like his uncle. Lilac Vegetal aftershave, hard milled soap, old spice, leather, boots, tack, horse sweat, and the gentle, lingering scent of his Uncle Buck's musky, male odor. The same smell Waddie smelled when he laid his head in his uncle's lap while he was in the hospital. It was as highly intoxicating then as it was now. He loved it. He remembered his dad's lecture about his uncle's house rules.  He immediately took his clothes off and stood naked in front of his uncle. Buck smiled at him.

"You been talking to your dad, Son?" Buck asked quietly.

"Yes, Sir. I just wanted you to feel comfortable with me."

"Well, wait a minute and Uncle Buck will join you." Waddie watched his uncle undress and even helped him with his big boots. The more clothing the big man removed Waddie noticed something strange was happening to his pee-pee. It was growing and sticking straight out; he didn't know why. By the time Buck was fully naked Waddie's little dick was hard as a rock.

"Uncle Buck?"

"Yeah, sweet baby?"

"Why is my pee-pee like this? It ain't never done this before." Buck glanced down and threw back his head and laughed. Buck squatted down to Waddie's height and opened his arms for Waddie to come to him. Waddie didn't hesitate. His body was pressed tight against his angel's naked body and it was fine. He felt his little legs were impeding his uncle's cock so he simply spread his legs and it popped up between them. Then as if it were a natural thing to do he closed his little legs around it. He looked into Buck's eyes. They both saw a glint of mischief in each other's eyes and laughed together.

"That was very thoughtful of you, young man, and I appreciate you helping me hold it there. It gets so damn heavy carrying that big thing around all day,— that kind a’ gives it a little rest."

"You feel good, Uncle Buck. Is it wrong to think you feel good to me?"

"Course not! You should never be ashamed of your body and if you have a buddy you're comfortable with and he's comfortable with you,— when you share things with him like this then it feels good to both of you."

"Do I feel good to you, Uncle Buck?"

"Ain't never held't nobody what felt no better'n you, sweet baby. You'n me was buddies the minute I walked through that hospital door. I saw a hungry look in your little eyes that said, ‘Please God, let this big cowboy be my buddy.’ I knew it, too. I didn't have no choice in the matter. I knew right then and there, if I had to change my life around, I had to be that little cowboy's buddy."

"How did you read my mind like that, Uncle Buck, 'cause that's exactly what I was thinking?"

"Weren't no magic to it, Cowboy. I'm not real sure how it happened but for one brief moment I could hear your thoughts.

Waddie couldn't remember being held by a naked man before, not even his dad, but somehow this felt awful damn good. He not only felt good but also felt more wanted than any other time in his life. He felt his buddy, his angel, his friend, had a right to hold him close any damn time he wanted. He knew with the openness of a child there wasn't anything wrong with it. It wasn't perverse or something he needed to feel ashamed of. It felt good to feel his body pressed up against the man he had come to adore in such a short period of time.

His Uncle Buck just felt right. In his arms was where Waddie belonged. He was welcome. He was wanted. He was loved. The big man who was holding him would have fought with his life in the balance for this boy and did. He had the medals and scars to prove it. Buck Claymore made a commitment to a frightened little boy and he made a promise to himself whenever this child needed the shelter of his arms they would always be open to him. The big cowboy kept that promise to the child all his life. Waddie was never turned away from his buddy's, his angel's arms.

It's not the act of a parent holding his child while nude that's perverse,  it's the society that imposes out dated mores due to man's snail like pace in accepting belief systems that work for them instead of living by standards set down by sheep herders over two thousand years ago. Buck moved him back a little and looked down.

"Okay, now, Darlin,'— look down, there, at your Uncle Buck's dick. What do you see?"

"It got bigger, straight and hard like mine."

"You wanna' feel it?"

"Sure, if you don't mind. Is it okay?"

"Course it is, Son. Anytime we're here together with our clothes off you don't never have to ask. Just let me know before you do, so's I won't jump like a bullfrog on a' hot rock and go through the roof. Okay? Sometimes your old Uncle Buck gets a mite goosey." Waddie giggled.

"Sure, Uncle Buck, I'll remember." Waddie knelt down in front of his uncle and took his huge dick in both his little hands to feel its hardness and marveled at it. He very gently took his uncle's low hanging balls in his little hands and gently felt each ball inside. With his uncle squatting down in front of him they hung within four inches of the floor. They reminded Waddie of a bull he saw sometimes on the property across the way from the ranch. Uncle Buck's had to be that big or bigger he'd wager.

"Damn. You're big all over, Uncle Buck."

"I'm a' thinking you're gonna' be, too, young'un. When I was your age my old dick wasn't near big as yours is now."

"Really?"

"I'm telling you the truth. Later, I'll show you some pictures of me and your dad when we were just about your age; but, you wanted to know why your dick got hard like that. Can I feel yours?"

"Oh, sure, you let me touch yours,— it's only fair." Buck smiled gently and took hold of Waddie's ample cock; ample for his size and age. Buck wasn't joking with his nephew, Waddie was quite a bit bigger than he was at five years old and he was hard as a rock."

"Damn, Waddie, that thing's rock hard! Is this the first time it’s ever done this?"

"Yes, Sir. Ain't never happened to me before. Is it normal or do I have to go back to the hospital?" Buck laughed and pulled Waddie to him again.

"No, no,— cowboy,  it's normal. Mine's hard, too. It means you like someone's body. You see them and would like to feel your body touch theirs and then nature sends a lot of blood to your penis and it gets hard. It'll go away in a minute."

"When I watched you take your clothes off that's all I could think about was how wonderful laying next to you might feel." Buck got choked up from the innocence of his nephew and the unbridled candor of his unwitting sentiment.

"That's about the sweetest damn thing anyone's ever said to this old cowboy, Waddie,  and,— you know why it was so sweet? Because it came from the honesty of a an innocent heart. If all the world could deal with each other with such honesty, there would be no more war. Get up here and we'll just see how it feels. How 'bout that?" He put his hands under Waddie's arms and raised him up and onto his big bed. Buck crawled up beside Waddie and pulled him as close as he could in the spoon position. He kissed him on his neck and gently rubbed his little back.

"Well,— does it feel like you thought it would, cowboy?"

"No, Sir,— much better. I've never had anyone hold me like this Uncle Buck." he couldn't help himself, he was so overcome by the love he felt coming from his uncle he started crying. Buck knew why he was crying and soothed him. Buck actually felt the depth of this child's pain for an instant and almost withdrew his hand in disbelief. He hadn't felt that much pain shoot through his body when he was wounded. This small, beautiful, helpless child so starved for love tugged at his heart like the chain to a pocket watch on a fat man.

Buck was beginning to carve out a picture of what this little boy had been through and he didn't like the images that were running through his mind. Waddie was crying from joy and confusion. He didn't know how or if he should risk accepting Buck's affection because love had always been given to him with a string attached. As quickly as the love starved child would grab for a small piece it would quickly be pulled away. Set up/rejection. Set up/rejection. Over and over again. Now, here he was laying in the arms of his own personal well-spring of love and it was overwhelming.

Surely he would drown in his uncle's love. Waddie never ventured down the trail that leads to the shore of the waters of belonging. No one ever showed him the way. He wasn't really sure belonging was something meant for him. He knew he wasn't perfect but he tried to be good. He knew nothing of the gentle ebb and flow of an accepting tide as it gently comes and goes, rises and falls, gives and takes, to wash over and nourish a small soul. Nor had he waded, hand in hand, into the shallows of affection's calming sea. Now, he found himself in the middle of a boundless ocean of purest love and he didn't even know how to dog paddle.

"Ain't never had nobody hold me like this, Uncle Buck.  I appreciate it, it makes me feel wanted and good in my heart."

"Well, ya' better get use to it, Pilgrim," Buck said in his best John Wayne imitation, to the small empty vessel in his arms, "'cause your Uncle Buck's a huggin' fool and once he gets a pretty little boy in his arms he don't never let go. Why, I've been known to crawl in a cave in the fall with a pretty little boy like you;— hold him in my arms;— tell him I love him;— steal all his kisses he has saved up;— whisper to him how wonderful and special he is;— how lucky I am to have a little buddy like him to hold;— and not come out 'til spring." Buck growled like a bear and exchanged Waddie's tears for gales of laughter and giggles. Then Waddie lay quiet for a moment.

"Something wrong, Darlin'?'

"No, Sir, I was just trying to figure out whether I really did die and this is heaven." Buck rolled on his stomach throwing his arm over on top of his nephew. He didn't want him to see the water in his eyes.

"No, sweet baby, you didn't die. This is how people can be with each other, Son, without shame or pretense, when they love each other, without conditions or restrictions, just the honest caring of two buddies enjoying each other's company. Love flows freely back and forth. I feel your love and I know you're feeling mine. I don't think that smile's left your face for more'n five minutes since you got here,  but that's good to see, Son, that's damn good to see. So, as long as we're up here in our world, we don't wear no clothes.  'Cause with no clothes, everyone's reduced to a common denominator. That's a fancy way of saying everybody's on the same level. We're most all born with the same equipment so no man's better'n any other when he's naked. 'Sides that, it makes you more outgoing when you're out with people. I don't know why, it just does, and one other thing I've noticed, it ain't real easy to lie to a naked man for some reason.

I make an exception for winter time, 'cause you really need something to help conserve your body heat. We get one of them 'blue northerns' comes a' rolling across the sky, it get colder'n an Eskimo's noonies up here."

"What's an Eskimo noonie, Uncle Buck?"

"These, silly, . . . " Buck reached over and lightly pinched Waddie's teat. He looked at his uncle with a twinkle in he eye. Buck knew he was going to get it back for damn sure.

"My dad told me, whatever someone touches on your body, gives you the right to touch it on their body." Buck couldn't believe how fast the kid's hands were,— got both his teats at the same time, then Waddie rolled over on his belly and laughed his ass off. Buck couldn't help but laugh. It was good to see his nephew laugh.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes! If your old man comes over to visit, he's gotta' take his clothes off, too! Them's my rules. No exceptions! Think you're gonna' be comfortable with that, Cowboy?"

"I'm more comfortable than I've ever been in my life, Uncle Buck; especially with you. You talk with me, Uncle Buck. You take time to explain things to me, you don't talk down to me, you assume I have some intelligence, and best of all, you listen to what I have to say. Ain't never had nobody do that before, not even my dad. My dad don't listen to a thing I say. He tells me he always knows better because he's bigger and older. What I have to say don't matter anyway 'cause I'm just a kid who don't know nothing, so why take the time to listen. That's why I ended up on the floor of that closet. Nobody listened. I don't want to end up there again, Uncle Buck." Waddie held tight to his uncle and the tears started again.

"I promise you, it won't happen on my watch, Cowboy, but if you feel the urge,— you get frightened so bad you need to hide,— then your old buddy will be right in there with ya'"

"You can't sit in no closet, Uncle Buck, it's only for kids." Waddie said through his tears.

"The Hell I can't! I'd go anywhere my buddy goes if he needs me."

Buck soothed him and held him. He didn't tell him to stop, he figured the boy had a right to a few tears. Buck wasn't at all what Waddie hoped and prayed for. He was far more than he might have imagined. His uncle was constantly reminding him, by God, he had a buddy now and they may as well be conjoined at the hip because he wasn't going to let go. Buck committed for the long haul.

Buck was slowly beginning to put together a picture of what daily life must have been for Waddie in that house. You certainly couldn't call it a home. To call it a home meant a family dwelled there. Buck was beginning to believe there was nothing resembled a family in that house. Buck was beginning to wonder if the bizarre stories Waddie told him that night in the hospital were enlarged? Maybe not at all, he thought.

Buck had a huge leather covered couch he could stretch out on and read. He had a bright light at both ends to make reading easier. He decided to read for a while as it was early evening. There was just enough room for Waddie to lay on it, too, with his back to his uncle. He laid his head on Buck's left shoulder. Buck held his book in his left hand and turned pages with his right. After a while, he switched the book to his right hand and began to turn pages with his left. Waddie couldn't wait for him to turn the page. When Buck raised his left arm to turn the page it open up his pit and the smells coming from him were the sweet imaginings of Waddie's dreams. He couldn't get enough of his uncle's man smell coming from under his arms.

It didn't stink. It was a powerful, strong, healthy, masculine smell like it was a signature of his uncle's body. It was the same musky smell he smelled when his uncle first brought him into the room. It was much more powerful laying there. He knew that's where the wonderful smell of his uncle came from and he couldn't get enough. It was like a strong, powerful pheromone that made him want to belong to this man and smell like him someday. He noticed his pee-pee was starting to act up again. He made a mental note to have a talk with it later. He could see how it might become embarrassing. He would make sure they came to an understanding and he would learn to control it.

"Uncle Buck?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You smell so good. I hope I smell as good as you do someday."

Buck put his book down and pulled Waddie up to his chest and held him there. He remembered the nights as a small boy when his mother would visit relatives in Dallas he'd get to sleep with his dad. He remembered thinking the same thing about his old man and wanting to smell like him someday. He remembered the nights, so many nights, he'd lay his head back on Morgan's side and lifting Morgan's arm placing it to lay on his head. He would drift back to peaceful sleep with his nose shoved as far into Morgan's pit as possible.

It was like a relaxing, familiar odor of the boy he loved so much reassuring him of the powerful pull of Morgan's body and his unfailing love for him orbiting within the space of his dreams. Morgan shared a portion of his dreams as well. Buck wanted him to. He wanted to be with Morgan everywhere, always, together,— even in his dreams,— united by a thin, silver thread running from their navels to their stilled and sleeping bodies, hand in hand they'd float off toward the moon, laughing and playing grab ass, a stolen map of the universe in hand they'd pinched from a midget time bandit pruning a foul smelling, pink bunkadoo tree;— upward and onward they'd search 'til dawn, determined, this time, to find an elusive body in the heavens never to be seen on any astronomer's scope,— the second star to the right.

"You trying to say Uncle Buck's arm pits are gettin' a little strong?"

"No, Sir, Uncle Buck, they could be a little stronger for me. I ain't never smelled anybody who smells as good as you."

"Well, we'll clean up before we go to bed. I'll get you in the shower and take a soft cloth and bathe you real good."

"You gonna' wash all that good smell off of you? I could lay here and smell you all night, Uncle Buck?" Buck seemed to muse for a minute; he was tempted but not tonight. He kissed Waddie on the cheek.

"Yeah, tonight we'll shower. Some other night when we're being lazy we won't and you can smell me all night. But fair's fair! You can't shower either. Uncle Buck might like to smell his little buddy's body next to him. I know how important those smells can be to a kid. I use to love to sleep with my dad, wake up in the night and take deep breaths of his odor hoping it would make me become more like him. It worked, too. Once in a while, I still get a whiff of my old man after he's been working hard and have to tell ya' little buddy, it still causes Uncle Buck to pop a boner." Buck laughed. Waddie did, too.

"Can I bathe you, Uncle Buck?"

"Don't see why not. There's a lot more of me to wash than you, though. We'll see how good you are at scrubbing your buddy's back. You know your dad scrubbed my back for almost twenty years and I scrubbed his. We always showered together ever since we was kids." He laughed to himself. Both set of parents were aware Buck and Morgan showered together. They had since the first grade. They were getting ready for their senior prom still taking their shower together.

"Well,— it saves water." allowed Mr. Claymore.

Buck led the way to his bathroom. There was the usual equipment with a big bathtub, but in the corner was a large walk in shower that had plenty of room for four or five people and had two shower heads. He and Morgan put it in years ago with their two dad's help. Buck remembered what fun they had and then the ecstacy of standing under the hot running water of the shower instead of sitting in that awful, nasty bathtub that would leave a ring of filth around itself as well as you.

'We got them limey bastards to thank for that terrible invention,'  thought Buck.

A stuffy British officer once told Buck, "You Yanks are weak. You cry at the least provocation,— where as, British men, on the other hand, are taught to be strong and not express their emotions. Why, with all your caterwauling,— at the drop of a hat,— you Yanks are an embarrassment to real men everywhere!" then he wheeled on his very polished boot heel and minced off amid snickers from the Americans.

'Stiff upper lip my ass!' thought Buck at the time. Such self-righteous bullshit had no place on a battlefield especially when your comrades at arms stepped in to save your bloody ass! Buck had seen the British soldiers weeping uncontrollably while holding their fallen comrades in their arms. They were no stronger, or braver than any other men and when the smoke cleared, a tear wasn't the final measure of a man,— it was his deeds.

Buck was squatting down bathing Waddie between his open legs. Waddie didn't remember a time when anybody bathed him. He was lost in his own world of sensuality. He didn't understand the concept but he knew he liked the feeling. His buddy would do nothing to harm him.  He relaxed and enjoyed Buck's big hand and the soft cloth on his body.

'Damn that thing! Now this is getting out of hand. There it goes filling up with blood again and I didn't do nothing to make it do that,' Waddie thought, 'Yes', he thought, 'it will be a serious talk.'

'Uncle Buck's done this before,' he thought to himself. 'Yeah, he had all them years to practice on my dad. No wonder he feels so good, he knows what he's doing.' Buck carefully bathed Waddie, turned him around so his front was facing away from him and pulled Waddie close to his big body. Waddie stumbled a bit but Buck caught him and steadied him. He could feel the prickly but soft quality of the hair on his uncle's big chest tickling his small back. If he leaned back a little,— yes,— there,— it's not so ticklish now.

"That's fine, lean back against me, cowboy. There, that's good. You can always count on a good buddy to lean on, cowboy, but now, we have to wash 'possible.'"

"What's 'possible,' Uncle Buck?" Waddie quickly learned the tone of his uncle's voice when his mouth was about to void itself of steer manure and braced himself.

"Ain't nobody never taught you how to bathe yourself, cowboy?" he ask in triple negatives.

"No, Sir. I guess not."

"Well, you wash up as far as possible, . . . you wash down as far as possible,— and then,— you wash possible." Buck had a hardy laugh at his own joke. Waddie got an awful look on his face.

"Oh, Uncle Buck, that's really bad." However, Waddie started giggling because it was so silly.

"You're a tough audience, kid." Buck laughed.

"Okay, it's time to wash 'possible.' Lean back against me and pull the skin all the way back. There, that's it. Now let Uncle Buck wash that big thing gently so's not to hurt ya'." Waddie did as his uncle asked and watched this huge mountain of a man's hand gently start to clean the head of his penis.

"Oh, God, Uncle Buck that tickles." Waddie started to jump but he was up against a man-mountain. "Hurry up, Uncle Buck, I don't think I can take much more." Waddie was giggling but his face had a contorted look. Buck pulled back and wondered if the boy almost had a dry orgasm. Waddie turned in toward his uncle and pressed his body hard against his uncle’s while Buck held him.

"Turn around now and pull it back again to rinse the soap off." Waddie slowly turned around and again leaned back against his uncle for support. He slowly turned his head to look at Buck, then blushed.

"Oh,. . .you want me to do it for you and were too shy to ask?" Waddie nodded his little head in embarrassment. Buck whispered in his ear.

"My buddy won't never be embarrassed to ask his buddy to help him with anything from now on, will he, cowboy?"

"No, Sir, Uncle Buck."

"Good!"

Buck took his rock hard little dick and gently pulled back the foreskin so the falling water from the shower head could rinse the soap. At that angle,— the force of the falling water on Waddie's front was pretty strong. Buck watched Waddie grab his big wrist between his smaller hands and lock them tightly. He didn't want Buck to move his hand away. Waddie wanted to keep him there holding on to his dick. Buck thought this must have become terribly sensual to his nephew. Again Buck sensed Waddie didn't want to ask but his small hands spoke for him and said, 'Please don't take your hand away, Uncle Buck, I've never felt anything so wonderful in my life!'  Waddie squirmed and pressed back, hard, against his uncle, almost knocking him over. He slightly arched his spine until he stood on tip toe, threw back his head, took in three short gasps of air, shuddered quite hard three times, then expelled the gasped air in a slow, controlled, relaxed sigh, all the while holding his uncle's wrist in a death grip.

Waddie released his grip and turned into his uncle's body again to press his cheek against his chest and his hands on either side of his head touching Buck in as many places as his body would allow. Because of the uncertainty of what just happened to him he needed to feel his uncle close to him for emotional support. He needed his uncle's strength at that moment. Buck understood and held him. He stood silent enjoying the comfort of his uncle surrounding him. Waddie was trying to collect himself as Buck stole a couple of kisses.

"You okay, sweet baby?"

"Yes, Sir," Waddie nodded still pressed tightly up against his uncle's chest, "I think so, but I ain't never felt nothing like that before when I washed my pee-pee. What happened to me, Uncle Buck? I feel kind of light headed."

"I think you're growing up, youngster. I think you just had your first dry orgasm. How'd it feel?" Waddie had to stop and think about that. It was pretty damn exciting. It was a little like somebody shocking you from rubbing their feet on the carpet, but this tingled all over. He sure felt good right now, though. He felt like his soul had been put through a wringer. He said a prayer of thanks his Uncle Buck was there when it happened to explain it to him.

"Leaning back on you with your arms around me holding my pee-pee was the best feeling I ever had and this other feeling came over me I never wanted to stop. It felt better, and better. When I leaned against you harder it even felt better until something made me feel wonderful all over. It felt like I was releasing a part of my soul into the air. It was like my soul hiccuped. Yeah, I'd say it felt pretty damn good, Uncle Buck. Can we do it again sometime?"

"Don't see why not, Scamp, but let's get me washed up and get to bed. It's getting late." Waddie took the soapy cloth and washed his uncle's back. Buck was right, there was one Hell of a lot of back there to wash but Waddie persisted until every inch was cleaned. Buck stood, rinsed and thanked his little buddy.

"For the sake of time, Darlin,' what say you let Uncle Buck wash the rest. Then on the weekend we'll have more time and you can wash all of me."

"That's fine, Uncle Buck, washing your back kinda tuckered me out anyway." Buck laughed at Waddie's words. The kid made him feel good, alive, purposeful and needed. Waddie could be unexpectedly funny in his reactions to things and sometimes painfully honest. This would be good training for him, thought Buck, when he had six, . . no, . . eight son's of his own. Eight boys should be enough with at least one, maybe two, three, . . .okay, half like Waddie.

They got out of the shower and Buck dried Waddie first then dried himself. He handed the towel to Waddie and squatted down so Waddie could dry his back. Waddie was diligent in getting his uncle's back as dry as possible. They were though in the bathroom. Buck picked him up and carried him into the bedroom, laid him gently in his bed and pulled the covers over him. He went around to his side, turned off his small lamp by the bed, then lay down. Waddie was all the way over on the other side. His uncle put him there; if that's where he wanted him to sleep, he'd go to sleep there.

"You gonna' sleep way over there all night, cowboy? By yourself? What if I get lonely?"

That's all Waddie needed to be back in those big wonderful arms again. Waddie was laying with his back to his uncle's front and Buck pulled him up tight. Waddie turned his head up to his uncle and met his mouth. Buck kissed him with the gentlest of kisses and didn't hurry about it. Damn, Waddie thought, ain't never had no one kiss me like that. I love this man.

"Good night, cowboy."

"Good night, Uncle Buck."

"I'm glad you're here with me, Son, . . . I love you, Waddie."

"I love you, too, Uncle Buck."

Waddie never spoke any words he meant more than those. He knew his words didn't fall on deaf ears nor would his words be soon forgotten or ever betrayed.

* * * * * * *

The clothes Morgan brought to the hospital were the only clothes Waddie had. Buck called Morgan to see about getting some of his other clothes. Morgan was really upset on the phone. Buck knew his brother well and knew when he was hurting and really pissed. According to Morgan, Waddie’s ma, Judy, got it in her head he wasn't coming back at all. She thought Morgan gave Waddie to Buck to raise.  It wasn’t her fault. How was she to know?  Morgan never told her! He never told her a damn thing; she constantly had to second guess him! What did he expect? It was his own damn fault for not letting her know! No way was she going to accept the blame for this!

She gave away all of Waddie's clothes and toys. His room was cleaned out. Nothing was left. Buck felt an emptiness in his gut, but tried his best to console his brother. He wasn't having much luck. Morgan said little and that alone spoke volumes to Buck. He knew his brother like a favorite book. How could Waddie's ma throw his clothes and toys out the day after he was rushed to the hospital? He was getting better. He didn't die. Was this her ultimate rejection? How could a mother be that cold? Morgan didn't find out 'til much later Willie did it, but Judy took the rap. She knew if Morgan found out the truth, Willie would be out of the house immediately, for good. Morgan was livid. He was mostly embarrassed by their actions and didn't speak to them for two weeks. He moved into Waddie's bedroom and cried himself to sleep night after night.

Buck felt awful for Waddie, but the kid surprised him, he didn't shed a tear. It was almost like,— so what else is new? He'd been there and back! They’d kicked him in the teeth so many times what was a few teeth more?  Nothing they could do would surprise him anymore. Waddie looked up at Buck with his big blue eyes.

"You believe me now, Uncle Buck?" Waddie asked barely above a whisper as a single tear rolled down his little cheek.

"I believed you the night you told me, Son; however, if there was ever the slightest, lingering doubt in my mind, it's gone now."

"Thanks, Uncle Buck." was all he said and let it drop. Buck could tell something snapped in Waddie. There was no longer a need for tears. He was getting stronger. Buck could see his little jaw was set. He'd made up his mind about something. It was a major decision but he was going to keep it to himself. Buck decided if it didn't get to Waddie then he wasn't going to let it get to him. Buck saw it as a new opportunity. A clean slate.  A new beginning. A new day. He quickly gathered his ‘can do’ cowboy spirit.  Buck was bound and determined he was going to convey his love and that attitude to his little buddy.

"Come on, cowboy,— get chur’ little ass in gear!”  Buck barked good naturedly to his nephew, “You, me and Grandma Claymore are going downtown. We're gonna' get you some clothes." Buck held out his hand for the boy. Waddie didn't come to him. He stood there looking down at his feet. He spoke softly.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Buck."

"For what, Darlin.'?"

"For being a bother to you, Ma and Pa Claymore." Buck went to him and scooped him up into his arms.

"Now,— I don't wanna' hear no more talk like that, cowboy. You could never be a bother to me;— certainly not to Ma and Pa. They think the sun rises and sets in your eyes, Son. Now,— forget about it and let's go have us a good time."

"Okay, Uncle Buck." Waddie brightened from his uncle's enthusiasm. His Uncle Buck could be infectious.

"That’s a start!  NOW!  I wanna' see a big ole smile on that puss.” he paused for a response from Waddie.  “Bigger!”  Buck made a face at Waddie that made him grin. “There!  That’s Better!  That's about right."  Buck stole another kiss which got him a big hug in return.

In a small town you really have no need for a newspaper. Word gets around overnight. The whole town heard what Judy did. No one would speak to her in the market or wherever she went. Willie got into some fights in school because the other kids called his mother a cold, heartless bitch.

Dorothy got more and more crazy until her mother talked about putting her in an institution.  Judy should've admitted herself and possibly her daughter's problems might start to diminish. Dorothy flunked out of high school her junior year. She spent more time in bed, on her back, getting fucked than studying. She was laying practically every boy in high school and at least three teachers. If she had as many dicks sticking out of her as she had put into her she'd look like a damn porcupine.

Buck marched Waddie, hand in hand, down to, Graham’s, the local dry goods department store on the square. Between Buck, his ma and Morgan's mother, Mrs. Lovejoy, they outfitted him with enough clothes for a month's tour of Europe and parts of Africa. Whatever Buck did you could count on it being big. He was big. He thought big. He did big. They bought Waddie every thing you could think of for play or school; two weeks worth of jeans, socks, T-shirts, several nice western shirts.

Ma Claymore went with them because she and Mrs. Lovejoy shopped together for years for Buck and Morgan. It only seemed right for Ma Claymore to call Morgan's mother, Mrs. Lovejoy, and asked her if she'd like to meet them to help pick out things for her grandson. She was thrilled and waiting for them when they got there. Buck hugged and kissed her. Buck always called her, Ma Lovejoy. Waddie hugged his grandmother, too.  He loved his Grandma Lovejoy. She always smelled like cookies. The ladies got busy. From years of experience they knew just what Waddie would need. He would be six that summer and go to school in the fall. He needed everything, they allowed.

Several dozen folks were in and out of the store and Buck introduced Waddie as his Godson, Morgan Lovejoy’s boy. Waddie knew a couple of folks his dad did business with. They came over to speak, say hello, pay their respects and be friendly.  They all heard the news about what Waddie’s ma did, but they were respectful and never mentioned it.  They all knew Buck and respected what he was trying to do for the boy.

 It was a wonderful morning but the treat of the day was his uncle took the four of them to lunch at the local diner.  After they got back, Buck brought a chest of drawers from one of the other upstairs bedrooms for Waddie's clothes. Waddie couldn't believe the amount of clothes new clothes they bought him. They were brand new, not hand me downs or thrift store clothes. They looked and smelled wonderful. He was overwhelmed, but his most prize possessions Buck bought Waddie was two cowboy hats; one straw and the other felt. Waddie loved those hats. He could almost swear when he looked in the mirror a certain way and squinted his eyes,— he looked a little like Buck. They both had dimples in their chins and their faces were square and blocked.

Then his uncle took him to the barber shop where Waddie had his hair cut into his first crew cut just like his Uncle Buck's. People started calling him Buck Jr. and Waddie would just beam. They knew he wasn't Buck's kid but they knew Waddie was proud to be with his uncle. They could almost feel the love that passed between them.

‘Yep,’ they all thought, ‘Buck Claymore was the right man to pick for that boy's Godfather.  Why,— he looks enough like him to be his boy.’

The end of the month came and Buck didn't get a bill from the store. He went by the store, thinking they just forgot to send one, but it had all ready been paid in full. There was no bill! The town folk got together, took up a collection, and paid for Waddie's clothes. It got all over town what Judy did to her son, and it was the town folk's way of saying, 'We're sorry, young man, not all people are like that.'  Buck got out his handkerchief and blew his nose. He didn't want anyone to notice the water in his eyes. He was so touched and proud of his town. He never would forget as long as he lived, and paid the community back ten fold.

Buck was still healing from wounds he'd suffered in the war. He hadn't taken a job yet, but he had several lined up he was thinking about. He could've gone to Dallas, Houston, Austin and gotten a great job on his war record alone. Nope! He was going to stay right there! His Godson needed him, and he wasn't about to desert the boy. Linda Sue talked with Buck and they decided on a June wedding. Buck would see her two or three evenings per week at her parent's house or he would take Linda Sue to the local movie theater.

Buck would leave Waddie with his parents who came to love Waddie like their own grandson. He was good, thoughtful, mannerly, minded them, and didn't ask for much. Mrs. Claymore would have to talk him into milk and cookies. He didn't want to be a bother. Pa Claymore was as bad or worse than Buck for picking Waddie up and holding him. They were in the kitchen having hot coco and cookies.

"Bess, where's that album of photos we have of Buck when he was a baby and young boy."

"It's in the downstairs hall closet next to the bath. I'll get it for you."

In a minute Ma Claymore came back with a large photo album of pictures of Buck when he was a baby. They started showing Waddie the pictures, and there was one picture of Buck on a pony that took Waddie's breath away. Waddie gasped audibly, put his hand to his mouth to try to mask his surprise, but it was too late.  Ma and Pa Claymore looked at him and wondered.  Waddie instantly changed his demeanor, and carefully handed the photo back.

"What's a' matter, Son? Something upset you?"  Dad Claymore asked gently.  Waddie could only shake his head 'no.' Tears were welling up in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he replied, dropping his head, "I thought it was a photo of me, but I didn't understand how you folks could have a picture of me."

Pa Claymore picked up the picture. He and Ma Claymore looked at the picture, then at Waddie, and their mouths dropped open.

"Damned if it don't look just like you, Son. I understand why you might be upset or frightened." He came around the table and picked Waddie up. About that time Buck and Linda Sue came through the kitchen door. Pa Claymore sat Waddie down. Buck opened his arms wide for his buddy. Waddie zoomed right past him to Linda Sue. They were hugging, kissing and carrying on.

"Oh, Aunt Linda, I'm so glad to see you!” he exclaimed, “I haven't seen you in a couple of weeks."

"Don't I even get a hug, cowboy?" Buck asked feigning hurt feelings.

"I'm sorry Uncle Buck,— but,— well,— Aunt Linda's, she's,— she's just so much prettier than you."  Waddie winked at Linda Sue, looked at Buck with a twinkle in his eye that made Buck fall on the floor with laughter.  The kid was getting good!  Buck set him up and he knocked it out of the park! It got him a big hug and a kiss from Linda Sue.

Everyone in the kitchen broke up, Waddie ran to Buck, and he hugged him. Waddie sat and talked with his Aunt Linda for an hour or more, but Buck had to get her home. Engagement or no engagement, until she was Buck's wife he was determined to respect her parent's wishes. Buck was amazed Waddie and Linda Sue had so much to talk about, and it was non-stop. No one could get a word in edgewise, and they were obviously thrilled with each other. Linda Sue couldn't keep her hands off Waddie, and he ate it up.

"You wanna' ride along, cowboy, to take your Aunt Linda home?"

"I sure do, Uncle Buck." Hand in hand he and Linda Sue walked to the car. He opened the door for her like a gentleman, waited 'til she was seated, then closed it. He opened the back seat and jumped in.

"Thank you, Waddie. That was very thoughtful of you."

They drove to Linda Sue's house and Waddie got to look at all the Christmas decorations town people put up and strung across the main street. It looked like a land of enchantment. They arrived, and Uncle Buck opened the door for Linda Sue to escort her into the house. His uncle told him to get in the front seat to ride back with him. He waited for Buck took Linda Sue inside, but it was only a minute before he came bounding down the front stairs and into the car. Buck started the car’s engine and headed back to his parents house. He noticed Waddie was quiet, but seemed in great spirits. The kid seemed positively radiant. Buck could swear he could almost see a glow, an aura surrounding him.  He hadn't seen the boy that happy since he'd been living with them.

"Can I ask you something, cowboy?"

"Sure, Uncle Buck?"

"What'd you do to that lady to make her love you so much? She can't talk about nothing else but you. She was pissed I didn't bring you along on our date."

"Aww, I understand you and her need to be alone together. Besides, I love Ma and Pa Claymore. They make me feel loved and wanted. I enjoy staying with them." Waddie paused for a minute, "Would you be upset if I told you I heard there was another man in town who loved Aunt Linda?"

"Tell me! Tell me! Who is he? If I catch him, why, . . .why, . . . . I'll muderate him, . . . I'll break both his arms, . . . . then I'll break both his legs, . . . then I'll grind him up, and then I'll do it all over again. Who is he, Young'un?" Buck did a mock jalousie routine with a little Lou Costello thrown in for flavor.

"Me, silly."  Waddie giggled at his uncle’s nonsense.

"Oh, well, . . . I'll have to handle you differently. I'll murderate you with hugs and kisses.”  he threw his big arm around Waddie and hugged him closer, “Listen, to me, buckaroo!” he exclaimed, and made a grand pause to accentuate the importance of his next statement, “Why,— if anything was to happen to you on my watch, cowboy, . . . your old Uncle Buck better pack his bags, 'cause your Aunt Linda would kick my cowboy butt."

"Really, Uncle Buck?"

"Ain't kiddin' around with ya', cowboy! Ain't bullshit'n ya' none, neither! She thinks you're some kind of wonderful." Buck shook his head.

"Well, I think she's pretty special, too."  Waddie said as he sighed naturally. That was the second time someone referred to him as 'wonderful.' Waddie didn't think he was wonderful. He just thought he was a normal kid.

* * * * * * *

Waddie didn't want to think about going back home. He hated the thought; but, his dad needed him, and he couldn't let him down. Morgan had been over for a long visit with him the day before, and had to take off all his clothes. He'd never seen his dad naked before.  Waddie was impressed by what a well developed body his dad had.  Waddie noticed his dad’s dick was almost as long as Uncle Buck's but not as big around.

Buck went to his small kitchen in the back. He converted a large sun porch area into a small kitchen for himself, so he wouldn't have to put on clothes and run downstairs if he needed something. He was getting Morgan a beer and Waddie a soda. Morgan and Waddie were laying across Buck's huge bed talking.

"Daddy, this is the first time I've ever seen you naked. Are you uncomfortable around me naked?"

"A little but not too much. Come over here and let me hold you."'

"Can I touch you down there, Dad?"

"I was afraid you weren't gonna' ask." Morgan looked sad as he took Waddie in his arms. Waddie reached his hand down and felt his dad's dick; then, gently felt his balls in their sack. His dad's dick started growing until it was rock hard.  Waddie smiled at his dad and winked.

"Don't worry about that, Dad, it'll go away. I was wondering what it would feel like to lay next to your body, too. See,— ?" Waddie showed him his dick and it was rock hard. Morgan giggled as he reached down and felt his son.

"Damn, Son! How long you been poppin' boners?" Buck walked in and handed Morgan his beer and sat Waddie's soda on the night table on a coaster.

"Since his first night here." Buck answered for Waddie.

"Yeah, I been gettin' 'em pretty often. It happens most times when I watch or help Uncle Buck take his clothes off. I got one when I watched you take yours off today, too, Dad, but they go away."

"I guess my boy's growing up. Given any thought about when you might want to come home, Son?" Morgan tried to sound casual and not pushing.

"No, Sir, I haven't. I love it here with Uncle Buck and his parents, but I miss you, Dad. I want to stay here through the holidays, because they were never very much fun for me at home."

"I'm sorry, Baby, I know they weren't, and I think you should stay through the holidays. Buck, his mom and dad love Christmas, and go all out for it. I can come and spend some time with you at Christmas."

"I'd like that, Dad. I'd like to stay another two weeks after that and then come home the middle of January."

"That soon? I thought you might want to stay until after Buck and Linda Sue get married?"

"You don't need me, Dad?"

"Of course I do! I'll always need you, but I can come in to see you like today. Weekends I might stay a night with you and your Godfather if I'm invited." he raised the volume of his voice to kid Buck

"Since when, in all these years, do you need an invitation to your own home, Bro? You been family too damn long to need an invitation to your second home. You're welcome here anytime, day or night, and you know it. You've still got a closet full of clothes here, for cries sake. So, don't gimme' no shit!" Buck smiled real big, winked at Morgan and Morgan giggled.

"Have you said anything to Waddie about tonight?" Buck asked Morgan.

"No, I was gonna' let you do it. It's your place, after all, since he's in your charge,— you should tell him. I'm grateful to you, Buck, for taking care of Waddie for me. It's really been a God send to have you look after him. He's more comfortable here than I've ever seen him, and I'm comfortable with him being here, too. I'd appreciate it if you'd consider keeping him 'til you and Linda Sue get hitched; then, if he wants to he can come home. I've decided I ain't gonna' make him come home. He has the choice. There's no use him coming home if he's gonna' be miserable." Waddie excused himself and went off to the bathroom.

"Well,— Lord, Morgan,— he's no bother at all. He's like having a little brother around.  He keeps me busy and out of trouble. He goes everywhere with me. I feel empty, like I've forgotten something, if I leave the house without him. You're probably doing me a greater favor than I'm doing you. I'll be honest with you, Morgan, that kid is the greatest thing you've ever done. I don't love him just because he's yours, I love him for who he is. I'm not trying to be mean, Brother, but I wonder sometimes if you ever took the time to get to know him really well. People aren't lying to you when they tell you, you have a treasure in that boy."

Waddie returned to sit on the bed close to his dad. He liked to sit with a hand on Morgan. It brought him comfort to touch his dad.

"Waddie, this is Friday night." said Buck," The first Friday of the month, two of my buddies, and most times your dad, come over and we play poker. Now,— you can stay up here with us, listen to the radio or read, whatever you wanna’ do, but your dad and I are gonna’ be tied up for several hours; or, if  you want to put chur’ clothes on and go downstairs, mom and dad would love to have you visit.

"Okay, Uncle Buck. If it's all right with you, I got some stuff to play with.  If I get sleepy I'll crawl up on the bed and throw the comforter over me. I'll be fine. I won't make no noise."

"That's a sweet baby!" Buck opened his big arms and Waddie went to him to be hugged and kissed. Buck would do that with the boy no less than fifteen to twenty times a day. Waddie ate it up. He'd never been shown so much attention in his life, and he was determined to be a good boy to make his Uncle Buck proud of him. He didn't want to be a problem and have to go home quite yet. He knew he'd have to eventually, but he wasn't going to think about bad things right now.

Waddie wondered to himself whether Uncle Buck's no clothes rule would apply to his card playing buddies. ‘Surely not,’ he thought to himself. Time passed and the other two men arrived. Both were curious to meet Buck's nephew living with him. Uncle Buck introduce him to the first man to get there. His name was Gary Stiles and was the owner of the local market. Stiles was a short stocky man built like a fire plug. He had huge arms and a decent body. He was a running buddy of Buck and Morgan's for years. Buck was best man at his wedding. He now had six kids and was expecting a seventh this summer. He had a personality everybody liked. He was a good provider for his family and a good business man. He was admired by most of the town. He always had a good word for everyone. To Waddie’s surprise he immediately took his clothes off.

When the other man walked through the door Waddie almost freaked. He wanted to run and hide his nakedness, but he didn't. He was stunned like a deer in the headlights of a car. It wasn't because the man was ugly or a horror; on the contrary,— he was the most the most perfectly handsome, masculinely stunning man Waddie had ever encountered, but he made Waddie feel nervous for some reason. He tried to hide it from his dad and uncle. The man was about six-four and around two hundred and thirty well packed pounds. He was wearing a deputy sheriff’s uniform with a gun belt. The man's eyes immediately found Waddie's and a look came over him that made Waddie's stomach churn. He thought he was going to piss until the man smiled the sweetest smile at him. He winked at Waddie telling him not to be nervous, I know what you're thinking.  It's okay,— we'll be friends.

"Quinton,” Buck hailed the man, “come over here and meet my Godson,  Morgan's boy. Waddie I want you to meet Deputy Quinton Tate. Quinton this here’s Waddie Lovejoy, my nephew." The beautiful man held out his hand, and Waddie shook hands with him. Their eyes never left each other's from the time he walked into the room. They were shaking hands and still their gaze was locked on each other."

"Good to meet cha', Waddie. Heard a lot of nice things about you."

"Thank you, Mr. Tate." Waddie's little hand was shaking, and Quinton Tate felt it.

"Something wrong, Son?" Quinton ask Waddie, again looking into his eyes. Waddie thought,  'Hell, I can't lie to the man,— a real cowboy don’t never lie,—  I have ta’ tell him the truth.'

"Yes, Sir. It's,... just,...." he looked at his uncle for help.  Buck turned away with a smile and winked at his brother. He acted like he didn’t had a clue.  Waddie stammered, “it's just,— well,—  I ain’t never seen me no man what’s handsome as you, and it makes me nervous being naked.” Waddie penis was growing like Pinnochio’s nose,  “Just look at me!” he paused, looking down at his dick and then returned his gaze to Quinton’s eyes, “I had a long talk with my pee-pee, last night, about not getting hard when I saw somebody I'd liked or admired. It didn't listen to a damn thing I said!  Just look at it!" Waddie  blushed with embarrassment, his dick was at full salute. The men all tried to stifle a chuckle.

"Come'mer, Son..." Quinton held his arms open for Waddie to come to him. Waddie could feel his pull like a magnet. As guarded as his brain might've been his little legs had a mind of their own and immediately reacted to the man's offer. Quinton hugged him, but after a few minutes gently pushed Waddie back a little way from him. Quinton glanced at Buck.  Buck winked and nodded to Quinton. He took Waddie's small hand and guided it to his right leg in front of his crotch.

"Go ahead, Waddie.  Don’t be shy. Feel that!"

Waddie felt and felt again, then smiled real big.

"That for me, Mr. Tate?"

"''Fraid so, youngster."

"Wow!" exclaimed Waddie.

"Son," Uncle Buck addressed Waddie with a big knowing smile, "every man and women in this town are a mess when they first meet Quinton.  When we was just kids,— in the first grade together,— I damn near pissed my pants the first time I met him.   My reaction was a damn site worse than yours.  I was as fidgety as a cat on coffee." allowed Uncle Buck, "He made me so damn nervous I could hardly talk to him. Ain't that right, Quinton?"

"Sure is, Waddie,— but he got over it soon's we made friends."

"Not true!" corrected Buck, "You still make me nervous as a whore in church,— I just hide it better." Everyone laughed.

"You think he makes you nervous now, Waddie,— wait’ll he gets his clothes off." said Mr. Stiles.

"That's the only damn reason we have our poker parties at Buck's 'cause of his no clothes rule. Hell, it's just so's we all get to see Quinton in the buff." added Waddie's dad. They all laughed at that.

Waddie didn't know whether he was gonna' like that or not, but Quinton sure felt good. He smelled good, too, and he sure said all the right words. Waddie just knew he was falling in love. He couldn't take his eyes off Quinton, and his dick was still rock hard. Waddie was kinda proud of himself though, it was the first erection he'd had in thirty minutes. To make matters worse, Quinton couldn't take his eyes off of Waddie all the while he was undressing.

Quinton finally got his clothes off and stood buck naked in front of Waddie so he could get a full look at him. Quinton had a beautiful body of well defined muscles. He looked like his body had been chiseled out of granite. It was obvious he was proud of his body and took good care of it with exercise and proper diet. He looked like a God to Waddie. As he stood there Waddie could see his eight and half inch cock start to rise until it was sticking straight up his belly. He smiled at Waddie, squatted on his haunches and again opened his arms. Waddie didn't need a second invitation. Quinton picked him up, held him close and kissed him behind the ear.

"Was that one for me, too, Mr. Tate?'"

"You know it, cowboy. You're still hard as a rock. If you don't stop that it's gonna' pull the skin back on your face 'til you look like a Chinaman." Waddie knew Quinton was bullshit'n him, and he giggled.

"I know,— I'm sorry, Mr. Tate. Just watching you take your clothes off did it. Uncle Buck says it happens when you look at someone and imagine how your body would feel close to theirs. Quinton smiled real big at Waddie.

“You listen to that men, Waddie.  He won’t never tell you wrong.” Quinton said looking at Waddie seriously, “He’s a good man; one of the best.”

"Don't worry none, Waddie!"  Gary Stiles exclaimed, "Look at me,—!” Mr. Stiles looked down at his own dick which had grown in proportion since Quinton’s arrival, “He does the same damn thing to me."  Gary Stiles smiled at Waddie.

"You know how you feel about me, Waddie?"  Quinton asked him.

"Yes, Sir."

"I walked in that door and couldn't take my eyes off you, remember?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And you watched my ole dick get hard a minute ago, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, that was ‘cause of you."

"Really, Mr. Tate?"

"Sure was! And, call me Quinton, Son."

"Yes, Sir. Why did you get hard for me, Quinton?"

"For the same reason you did. I saw you sitting there and I thought to myself, 'Damn, that has to be one of the best looking kids I've seen in a long time. I can't take my eyes off of him. He's gonna' get nervous and upset with me staring at him.' Then I thought, 'I just can't help it, he's so damn good looking. He's looking at me and he's feeling something, too. I wonder if he'll like me? I know I'll like him! ' The next thing I knew my pee-pee was getting hard.  H'it's normal, Waddie, but you know what?"

"What, Quinton?"

"It's a great compliment to pay someone when you look at them and think their so nice to look at it makes your dick hard. Now look at yours, it's gone down now and so's mine. We're buddies now and we don't need to worry about it no more, okay?"

"Okay, Quinton, but if you see me staring at you,— it's 'cause I can't help it"

"Won't bother me none, but if you catch me looking back don't get embarrassed, just wave."

"Okay,— thanks, Quinton. Damn you smell good."

"You do, too, little man."

"Will you two knock it off!  Lord, help us,— you two sound like a bad Italian opera. Get chur’ naked butt over here, pretty boy, and lose some money." bellowed Buck.

Quinton laughed as he put Waddie down, but Waddie didn't want him to. He crawled upon his uncle's bed with his coloring book and box of crayons. He was getting really good at coloring. He used to not stay in the lines. Now he was good at it. He looked up, and thought it was probably unusual to see four grown men playing poker, naked.  The more he thought about it the less unusual he thought it was. 'One thing's for damn sure,' Waddie thought, 'no one's hiding an ace up their sleeve.'

The game went on and on and Waddie got sleepy. He laid his head down to rest for just a minute, and he was out like a light. Quinton asked Buck if he could put Waddie to bed. He really liked Waddie a lot. Next thing Waddie knew there was a handsome, naked angel picking him up and gently putting him into bed. The angel was telling him what a handsome young man he was, and he hoped his son would be as good looking.

'Do angels have kids?’ he wondered? ‘Damn,—  this one sure is a pretty one. Aww,— too damn sleepy to think about it!” he thought to himself; however, his buddy between his legs sure was thinking about it. Waddie passed into peaceful sleep as, Quinton, his guardian angel for the evening tucked the covers around him and kissed him on the forehead.

"Good night, cowboy,— sweet dreams."

Waddie dreamed of his beautiful new friend, Quinton, laying next to him and caused him to have and erection.

Quinton put his clothes on, said his goodbyes, drove home, showered, went to bed and began to dream of Waddie laying next to him; his little body pulled up close to him. He dreamed of protecting him, loving Waddie like a big brother, being his friend, teaching him things, but mostly holding him close against the darkness of the night. Quinton got an erection. He didn’t understand why.  His interest in Waddie certainly wasn’t sexual.  What was it then?  His last thought before he drifted off was,

'Damn, there's just something about that kid that turns me on.’  Suddenly,— it became clear, and the reason came to him. The answer was simple. ‘Hell,— it shouldn't be no surprise!’ he chuckled to himself, ‘H’it don’t take no rocket scientist to figure this one out.  You've had a crush on his uncle for years and the kid looks just like him!’

 * * * * * * *

The holidays came; Thanksgiving then Christmas. It was the first time Waddie ever felt wanted at Christmas and a part of a family. He became in integral part of the Claymore family and also the Davenports. He spent quite a bit of time with his Aunt Linda and they continued to grow closer. He could see she truly loved and adored Buck, but there was a deep sadness he could sense. Sometimes he would ask her about it.  She wouldn’t tell him anything specific.

"Aunt Linda,— sometimes you get a far away look in your eyes like your looking for someone who isn't here." she looked down at Waddie and smiled.

"You're not a mind reader, are you, Waddie?" she looked at him and smiled. Waddie looked down and shook his head 'no.'

"I guess you're right. Occasionally, when I'm with you, I think of another little boy I used to know, about your age and wonder where he is today, that's all.”  She tried to change the subject, “Now,— what were we talking about. Oh, yes,— I remember. Your Uncle Buck is going to start teaching you to rope because you want to be a cowboy. You sure you want to become a cowboy?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Cowboys are good, strong, brave men, and a cowboy don't never tell a lie." Waddie told her in all seriousness.

Linda Sue smiled at Waddie’s strength of commitment, "Well, if that's what you really want, I'm sure you'll be one of the best." she allowed.

"Aunt Linda?" Waddie spoke softly.

"Yes, dear?'

"I would never lie to you.  Do you believe me?" Waddie looked his aunt in the eyes, and she felt hia deep need to tell her something.

"Of course, I believe you, sweetheart. I would trust anything you tell me."

"Good! You'll see that little boy again someday. I can't tell you when but you will.”  Waddie’s eyes never wavered from his aunt’s, and his words shook Linda Sue to the core of her foundation.  He looked directly into her eyes and continued, “Aunt Linda, this has to be between you and me. You can’t never tell nobody what I just told you! You can't even tell Uncle Buck.  You have ta’ promise me!" Linda Sue looked at Waddie and didn't know what to think; however, she could tell this was of utmost seriousness to him. There was no joking in his demeanor. His eyes never wavered from hers.

"I appreciate you telling me, Waddie, and it'll be our secret. I'll never tell another soul, not even Buck, I promise, but can I ask how you know?"

"Don't be mad at me, Aunt Linda, but I can't tell you. I shouldn't have told you that much, but you look so sad sometimes when you're with me I feel it all the way down here." Waddie pointed to his stomach, “I don’t want you to be sad, Aunt Linda.” Linda Sue could see tears forming in Waddie’s eyes, she hugged him to her and held him for a long while as he cried softly in her arms.  She was devastated.

"Shuu, it’s all right, baby,— don’t cry.” she tried to comfort him, “I could never be mad at you, Waddie. You mean far to much to me to ever be angry with you.  I apologize for allowing my emotions to over come me.  I love you, Waddie, and I’m grateful for the time we spend together."

Linda Sue suddenly realized she had, indeed, fallen in love with the little man she held in her arms.  ‘How could this child be so perceptive?’ she thought to herself.

She knew from talk around the town when she was home from her work in Dallas, Morgan had a son, but she never saw the child. They never seemed to have him with them. Then, too, she would only come home for short periods of time, and she wasn't into town gossip; howevr, ever since that first afternoon at the hospital she found herself becoming more and more comfortable with Waddie. She had to admit to Buck she loved him deeply. She even told Buck if he entertained thoughts of Waddie living with them after they were married, she thought it would be a wonderful ideal. In fact, Linda Sue told him she hoped he might consider it.

* * * * * * *

Christmas was centered around Waddie with the Claymore family. Ma and Pa Claymore opened their hearts to the boy because they, too, had fallen in loved with him. They couldn't believe how mature Waddie's reasoning and intuitive abilities were. He would come up with something that sounded way out at first, but when you got to thinking about it, his idea was simple, elegant. Best of all, they were workable. Then sometimes he could be as naive and honest as the child he was.

The family went to midnight services. Waddie went with his uncle and aunt and sat with them in church. Morgan sat with Judy, Willie and Dorothy. Waddie winked at his dad but ignored Judy and her kids. His uncle was holding him in his lap.  He made the mistake of laying his head up against his uncle's chest. The drone of the pastor's voice in the warm church turned his lights out. He fell fast asleep. They brought him home, but he never woke up.  Buck gently carried him upstairs and put him to bed.

Buck kissed Waddie on the forehead.  He stood looking down at the boy as a thousand thoughts and unanswered questions flooded his mind.  No answers came to him, but he realized he was falling more and more in love with Waddie.  He whispered a Merry Christmas to the boy and returned to the living room to set up his nephew's Christmas. Buck bought him an electric train he set up to run around under the tree. It had a whistle and puffed real smoke. He also got him a fire truck to play with. Willie had given or thrown away all of his toys so these would be his first new toys. Everyday another town member stopped by with a cheerfully wrapped gift for "the boy," they would say. Waddie had a stack of presents from the town folk almost as tall as he was. He never ask or understood  the pile of presents were for him.

Waddie asked for nothing. They couldn't get him to say he wanted anything for Christmas. He didn't know whether he believed in Santa Clause or not because Willie and Dorothy tried to pop that bubble a couple of years ago.  By that time, his faith in them had diminished so much he figured they were probably lying to him for just to be mean;— just to hurt him.  He reasoned he knew angels existed; therefore, there just might be a chance Santa Clause did, too.

He never had a real Christmas; he didn't know what to expect.  He had no idea what Christmas was all about. Secretly, he was afraid to ask for anything because Judy told him if he asked for anything for Christmas he could count on getting nothing. Also, he was so comfortable living with his uncle and Ma and Pa Claymore he was afraid to ask for anything as it might make him seem ungrateful. He was told so often by Judy and her kids that everything bad that happened to him was his own fault. It was because he'd been a bad boy and didn't deserve anything good. He wondered about it, but thought they must know.

Christmas morning came and Buck awoke before Waddie. He rolled over to see if he could see an eyeball peeking out but Waddie was still asleep. Buck got up and went to the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth. When he came back he saw Waddie laying there awake. It was Christmas morning.  Most kids would be up screaming and running downstairs to see what Santa Clause brought them. Waddie just lay there smiling up at his uncle.

"Good morning, buckaroo. How's my favorite cowboy this morning?" he kissed Waddie on his forehead.

"I feel good this morning, Uncle Buck. Merry Christmas!" Buck stopped dead in his tracks.

"Well, thank you, darlin,' you're the first one this morning to wish me a Merry Christmas, and a Merry Christmas to you, too. You wanna' get up, get dressed, go down stairs, and see if Santa left anything for you?"

"I'm sure he didn't, Uncle Buck. He don't know I'm here.  I didn’t write him no letter. Besides, he never brought me nothing over at my dad's. I was always too bad a boy during the year to get anything from Santa and I sure as Hell ain't been no saint this year." Buck was sad but chuckled at Waddie's opinion of himself. 'I should be so bad as you, little man.' Buck thought to himself.

"Well, you just never know. It might be worth a look-see, don't cha’ think?"

"Yes, Sir.  Besides, I do like to look at the tree." Buck quickly dressed him and led him down the stairs to the living room. Ma and Pa Claymore, his Aunt Linda, and his dad was there. He was so happy to see all of them he didn't even see the toys under the tree. He sat down next to his dad and looked at the toy train going around on it's track. He saw the bright red fire truck and thought it was wonderful. His uncle came to the couch where he and his dad were sitting and sat on the floor next to him.

"Hey, cowboy. Ma Claymore got up last night, came in here and found Santa Clause putting down all those toys for you. Those are all yours." Waddie's eyes got really big but not from joy. Buck saw a look of fear, almost terror, mixed with pain come across his little face. Rather than run to them, Waddie looked at his dad, his Aunt Linda, then his Uncle Buck, quickly turned and bolted from the room to climb the stairs back up to Buck's room. Buck looked at Morgan to see if he was going after Waddie.

"He needs his buddy now, Brother; more than ever." Morgan said with tears in his eyes.

"I'll be with him. Go on without us. I may be a while." Buck told his loved ones.

Buck followed him up, broken hearted by Waddie's reaction but he knew it wasn't the kid's fault. He was unprepared and overwhelmed. They wanted to show him their love but to a fragile, still healing mind, it was too much, too soon. Waddie was literally frightened to death of the situation. No one told him how he should react. Now he was embarrassed on top of that.

Buck finally traced the sounds of sobbing to his large closet and opened the door. There he found the boy in the very back of the closet pressed as tightly into the corner as he could get crying his heart out. Buck lost it. He couldn't remember the last time he cried. He wasn't so macho he cared if anyone saw him, he just didn't do it. He did that morning. He didn't try to talk Waddie out of the closet. He went into the closet, closed the door, sat next to Waddie, and pulled him into his lap. They sat there, in the dark of the closet, in the corner and cried together; one very small child and one very large child clinging desperately to each other for understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Waddie. I didn't mean to frighten you or overwhelm you. The folks who love you wanted to show you their love by making this a wonderful Christmas for you. Santa really did come by and leave those things for you. Why, our house was his first stop, he told mom. He told her it was because you'd been such a good boy this year."

"Really, Uncle Buck?"

"You know you're buddy wouldn't lie to you. I wouldn't hurt you for the world, sweet baby. I'm gonna' sit here with you until we work this thing out,— you,— me,—  together. I want to know how you feel and why. I want you to trust Uncle Buck and tell him."

"I saw all those pretty things, Uncle Buck, and wondered who they might be for. They were so bright and new with ribbons and beautiful bows. I didn't expect you to tell me they were for me. I ain't never had nothing like that, and I had to get away. I'm sorry. Why would Santa leave me anything anyway?"

"Because you're a good boy, Son. How many times a day do I tell you you're a good boy?"

"A goodly number, I suppose."

"Yeah, I do. Now, I don't want you to do nothing you don't wanna' do. Do you want to go back down and play with some of the things under the tree? I can teach you to run the train."

"No, Sir, I just want to stay here a while. I feel better in here, Uncle Buck."

"Okay, but I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna' sit right here with you until you decide to come out. If it takes a week or a month. We don't have to go downstairs. We can lay on the bed 'til you feel better."

"It's silly for you to stay in here with me, Uncle Buck. Corners of closets are for kids."

"Bullshit! Who says there just for kids! Inside me there's a kid who will sit with your kid as long as it takes, cowboy." Waddie thought about it for a while. He couldn't stand his big uncle sitting on the floor of the closet. It was his fault. He should've remembered his uncle telling him the next time he felt the need for a closet he would be in there with him.

"I suppose it 'ud be all right, Uncle Buck, if'n we move to the bed. It's awfully cramped and dark in here for you."

"Now, don't do this for me, cowboy. I'll stay here with you as long as it takes. If I'm gonna' be your buddy I have to be your buddy in all things, right?" Waddie found his uncle's cheek and kissed him gently.

"I guess so, but— I think I'd like to move to the bed, too. Closets aren't as safe as I once thought they were. You just never know anymore who you're gonna' run into." Buck had to think about that one for a minute, then realized his sweet, lovable, innocent, nephew made a joke at his expense. He tried not to laugh but kept gulping down air.

"Is it okay if I laugh at that, cowboy?"

"Yes, silly, it was a joke!" Buck let it all out and roared with laughter. Everyone in the living room wondered what the Hell was going on up there.

"What say we move to the bed, Uncle Buck?"

"Okay, cowboy,— here we go." Buck picked him up and came out of the closet. Ma Claymore never came in Buck's room but she was in the hall knocking lightly on the door. Buck sat Waddie on the bed, went to the door and opened it a bit.

"We were worried.  I was voted the one to come and check on the two of you. Everything all right, Son? Anything we can do to help? Waddie has a visitor downstairs."

"Thanks, Ma. I'll tell him. It may be a little while. These things can't be rushed. We'll be down in a little bit. He needs some love'n from his buddy right now. He'll be fine." His mom told him to holler if they needed anything. Buck went back to the bed and lay on his back on his side of the bed.

"Co'mer, cowboy, let your buddy hold you a spell." Waddie didn't hesitate and was enveloped in Buck's huge arms. Waddie always felt safe in his uncle's big arms. 'That's it!' he thought, 'The closet isn't safe anymore because Uncle Buck's arms feel safer.' He melted on top of his uncle.

"Uncle Buck, I'm spoiling everyone’s Christmas. I can't do that. I'm growing up, you told me so yourself. If I'm growing up, I have to think of other folk's feelings. I'm ashamed of myself, Uncle Buck." Buck stole a kiss from Waddie and smiled.

"When you start think’n ‘bout other folk's feelings 'sides your own,— yeah, Son,— ‘at's a sure sign you're growing up."

"Good, I like that feeling. Come on, Uncle Buck, show me how to run that train."

"Be happy to, Buddy." Buck once again gathered Waddie into his arms, looked him in the eye and stole another kiss. Waddie giggled. He carried Waddie down the stairs where the family waited patiently, and there, waiting in the living room, sitting next to his dad was the most beautiful and handsome of men, his buddy, Quinton Tate. Waddie ran to Quinton who held out his arms to catch him. He picked Waddie up, hugged and kissed him. There was never anymore shyness between the two of them, but neither could take his eyes off the other. His buddy stopped by to bring him a present and to say Merry Christmas. Quinton was invited to stay for Christmas dinner, and he was thrilled to accept. Waddie was happy, too. He just never seemed to get enough of Quinton.

He was sitting in Quinton's lap watching the adults open presents, and felt Quinton's snake wiggling in his levis. Waddie made sure he wasn't noticed, reached behind his back and under his butt to pet Quinton's snake. It responded nicely. They locked eyes as Waddie was petting his snake. Quinton winked at Waddie and they doubled over with laughter. The family couldn't figure out what the Hell they were laughing at. Buck and Morgan knew. Waddie and Quinton were playing pet the little green snake.

"Come on, Waddie, let's see if we can make this, here, train run." Quinton spoke as he put Waddie on the floor. Waddie started to follow but turned and stopped for a minute.

"Ma, Pa Claymore, Aunt Linda, dad and you, too, Uncle Buck, I'm sorry I acted childish earlier. I felt afraid, and I don't know why." Aunt Linda put her arms around him and hugged him. They forgave him. From then on, Waddie took to Christmas like a duck to water. Waddie's favorite gift he received for Christmas, was from his Uncle Buck. It was a genuine, junior rodeo, roping rope. Uncle Buck told him he was going start teaching him to rope after Christmas. Waddie showed Quinton his rope and Quinton's eyes lit up.

"I can teach you some roping tricks, Waddie. I been roping since I was in grade school."

"Yeah, Waddie," said his dad, "Quinton's won a lot of rodeos. He's pretty damn good."

Waddie loved the gathering of families, everyone sitting around talking and enjoying each other's company. He got to spend sometime with his dad. His dad came over and spent the night with him and his uncle. Quinton's parents were out of town visiting relatives for the holiday, and Quinton stayed behind to take care of the ranch. Since Quinton was alone for Christmas, Waddie felt a comradeship with him and was with him 'til he went home that evening. Quinton told him it was one of the best Christmas' he'd ever had and how much Waddie contributed to it. They shed a tear in each other's arms when they said goodbye.

During the holidays his dad would drive by, pick him up to drive to the Dairy Queen for a shake. His dad seemed different. Waddie was convinced he was changing. He began to listen and be interested in what Waddie had to say. Morgan began to see his son in a new light.  He was beginning to rediscover the treasure he had in his boy. Waddie thought he surprised his dad that he could talk to him. Morgan was making a concerted effort to regain his son's affections. He never put down or seemed jealous of Waddie's love for Buck, Linda Sue, Ma and Pa Claymore, or Ma and Pa Davenport. Waddie was even getting to see Morgan's parents on a regular basis. Judy hated them so she made sure they got to see him as little as possible. In his five years he could only remember visiting with them three times. They were overjoyed Buck would be so willing to share. The Lovejoy's loved their grandson and he loved them.

When all the presents were unwrapped, Waddie had a stack of toys, games, children's records for his new phonograph; children's books and clothes of all kinds. He was so boggled by the end of Christmas day he was exhausted. He had a physical and emotional tired-on, but it was a good tired feeling as his beloved uncle carried him up the stairs, gently removed his clothes, tucked him into bed, and kissed him.

"Merry Christmas, cowboy, I love you." Buck whispered to his nephew whose boat had all ready set sail for the land of nod.

 * * * * * * *

And what does a five year old, junior rodeo, roping cowboy dream about? Visions of sugar plum fairies did not dance in our cowboy's head. Ugg! He hated fairies! 'Vicious, nasty little critters!' he thought. Waddie's dreams had bigger fish to fry that night. His uncontrollable buddy between his legs couldn't produce semen but his fertile little mind was still moist and dripping from spending the entire afternoon with a pulchritudinous cowboy deity. Not only did this God consume his simple offerings of love he laid on his alter, he returned it to Waddie's feet and worshiped him in kind.

It might have presented a problem for someone of lesser invention than our hero's childlike brain. He took it all in and mentally wallowed in it like Scrooge Mc Duck, swimming through his money. In a light hazy sleep, Quinton's masculine odors rubbed which had off onto his body started his mind searching for him. He must be near. Waddie could almost feel him. He knew he could smell him. He wanted to see him again. If only he could be alone with his friend, as he might imagine, with Waddie in control of the whole scene. Writer, director, and actor all rolled into one staggering talent. 'Ah ha!' he thought, 'I would tell him in these here parts what I say, goes! You have to do any damn thing I tell you to.' He smiled to himself and sent a sharp reprimand to his dick, 'Oh, get hard, damn you, I'm going to sleep!'

These thoughts and memories were running through his mind just before he drifted off. He was in the time slot or mental zone between the click-in of alpha and beta, a gentle time of 'coasting' he called it; not yet fully asleep but not really awake either. A nether region in which you could create wonderful worlds of your own; where anything was possible. You only had to—

* * * * * * *

Sheriff Waddie found himself on a beautiful ranch with rolling hills as far as the eye could see. They gently ran down to a crystal blue sea where the surf crashed against huge rocks and formed a frothy white foam. White birds sailed gracefully in the updrafts of air from a small cliff. It was warm, and he felt comfortable dressed only in his cowboy boots and big felt hat; necessary, for any real buckaroo, he was convinced. Over his shoulder he carried his genuine, junior rodeo, roping rope in case he spotted a stray dogie. He'd rope and nail that sucker right there and leave it for his band of rough and randy ranch hands who were also experts at rustling hugs and kisses. Why, them varmints would steal a kiss from you faster'n a flea on a dog. He had to watch them every minute. He only had so many to go around and he was saving them up for his buddy.

Yonder, in the distance, rides an incredibly handsome cowboy on a spirited black stallion. The nervous beast is no problem for the cowboy because he's an expert horseman. He reigns the fearsome beast in tight, not giving the critter its head. It would go where the cowboy directed it to go. It argued but finally accepted the powerful, muscular buckaroo's will. It would go his way. The cowboy was in control and not the beast. There was no doubt.

As he approached, Sheriff Waddie could see he was a drifter, a saddle tramp, who lived in dreams to seduce young, good looking, rope'n, rodeo cowboys. Waddie marveled at the size and strength of muscles in the animal as it played back and forth to the solid muscles in the cowboy's arms and shoulders. They were a handsome sight. A powerful man on a beautiful black stud with the biggest damn dick Waddie ever saw. (The horse, Son, not the saddle tramp; pay attention!)

The cowboy on the horse wore a big wide brimmed felt hat pushed back on his head, a brown, sweat stained, leather vest, and a beautiful pair of dark brown western boots with a pair of magnificent hand wrought, fine tooled, silver spurs on the heel that would jingle musically from time to time. (That's all he wanted the cowboy drifter to wear so that's all he could wear. It was his dream, and,— damn it,— Waddie was, don't forget, the law in these here parts!)

Waddie's dick got hard immediately. The handsome cowboy's face was his buddy, Quinton's. Sheriff Waddie smiled up at the handsome drifter.

"Howdy, Stranger, new in these here parts?"

"Yep. Sheriff, I'm just a' passing through."

"Well, just make sure you do or I'll have to throw your pretty ass in jail. 'Cause this here badge says I'm the law around these here parts. You gotta' do anything I tell you to, understand, stranger?"

"I understand, Sheriff, I promise to be good. I have to do anything you tell me?"

"Yup! That's the law in these here parts, stranger. Now get that handsome butt of yours down off that big stud, and let Sheriff Waddie take a closer look at you. You know us lawmen have to inspect every drifter's dick and balls who comes through these here parts. Gotta' sniff 'em, too, to make sure they're healthy. We're trying to limit the spread of that horrible Russian genital disease, 'rotchakockoff.'"

'Damn, it sure 'be' Quinton all right,' Waddie thought within his dream. 'Son of a bitch, would you look at the ass on that cowboy getting down off that big stud. Woah!' The cowboy had the sweetest ass on him that would make the straightest of men bite their knuckles and weep uncontrollably. The Sheriff didn't quite know what he'd do with it but he certainly could admire its beauty. Fortune smiles on the Sheriff today.

"Stand up straight, Son. Spread your boots apart a little,— 'at's it." Sheriff Waddie slowly swaggers over to the handsome drifter,— a lascivious sneer on his face, twirling his longhorn, handlebar, mustache. Without asking he takes hold of the cowboy's eight and a half inch dick to inspect it. He feels it start to grow from the touch of his calloused hands. He takes his other hand and peals it like a banana. Then the Sheriff moves his face toward the engorged shaft and takes a deep breath.

'Mighty fine.' he thinks to himself, 'This one's just ripe for pick'n.'

The Sheriff takes the drifter's ball sack and holds it in his hand. He feels each one the fragile orbs and wonders at their size. He bends over, close, and takes a good long whiff of 'em. 'Mighty fine!' the sheriff thinks to himself, 'Yep! Just ripe for pick'n.'

Then he grabs the handsome cowboy's dick again, hard-like causing him to wince. Fear spreads across the cowboy's face.

"Oh, please, Sheriff, — I'm a' saving that, Sir."

"Who you saving it for, Son?"

"The handsome, young cowboy who lives in the dell."

"You mean that good looking, young, rope'n, rodeo cowboy who lives in the dell?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay, I'm gonna' let you off easy this time drifter, but the next time I see your handsome ass you better be partners with that, there, young, good looking, rope'n, rodeo cowboy, understand?"

"Oh, yes, Sir, Sheriff Waddie!  I intend to make that young, good looking, rope'n, rodeo cowboy my own. I done took him to my heart, and I'm a' gonna' make him mine, Sir."

"Well, that's good to hear, Son. Now, you ride right straight to that young, rope'n, rodeo cowboy's arms. Don't take no short cuts, neither. Don't slow down none. Don't pass ‘go.’ Don't collect two hundred dollars. Don't stop on Boardwalk or Baltic. That good look'n cowpoke,— he's a' waitin' there for a handsome cowboy drifter like you to steal his heart and carry him away. Look's to me like you just might be the hombre what could do it. I reckon you're 'bout handsome enough to make him happy, and you got a nice healthy set of cock and balls. I'm sure that'ud make him real happy to hold onto on a long winter's night."

Across town, Quinton Tate stirs in his sleep. He has a vivid dream he could almost swear was real, he looks down from the back of a big, spirited, black stallion at a diminutive sheriff who looks like a young boy but, 'Oh, my God! It's Waddie! Sheriff Waddie to be exact. Not looking too damn shabby neither in his little hat and boots with that genuine, junior rodeo, roping rope slung over his shoulder. That little fucker’s tuned me into his channel! I'm in his fuck'n dream!' Quinton smiles to himself wickedly, 'I've had worse assignments...' he thinks to himself as he rides off to find the young, good looking, roping, rodeo cowboy who lives in the dell. For Waddie it meant a quick trip to the dell and a costume change.