It was 1960, in the segregated South, and Flossie found herself in a
situation where, quiet unintentionally, she advanced the cause of
integration in her one room school house by twenty years.  The town banker
was determined to ruin her life, while forbidden love entangled both her
and her students in its color-blind tentacles.

   Codes: MF, mf, slow, cons, reluc, inc, het, rough, voy, interr, oral,
mastrb, pett, preg, historical setting



   Foreword

   This is a story about revenge, and as such, it is dark in many places,
particularly in the beginning.  It is set in a part of American history
that wasn't very pretty, and the language used, while historically
accurate, isn't very pretty either.  The fact is, though, that these words
and attitudes were used with great regularity, and still are in some
places. That is fact, and I don't apologize for the use of those words,
however uncomfortable they may make the reader.

   While it's a story about revenge, that revenge wasn't planned, though,
and some readers may decide that "justice" would have been a better word to
use in the title.  Titles aren't the author's strong point.  That's also a
fact.

   Facts out of the way, readers are reminded that this is a work of
fiction.  As a work of fiction, this story has everything needed to make
just about everybody unhappy.  If you're a racist, you may like the first
chapters, not counting the Prelude, but you won't enjoy this story after
that.  If you're NOT a racist, you'll be offended by the first chapters,
and may never get to the part you'd be happy with.

   So ...  why read it at all, you ask?

   Well, It's a story about human suffering, and triumph over suffering. 
It's a story of rags to riches.  It's a story about doing the best you can
under a given set of circumstances and learning that just because life has
been shitty in the past, doesn't mean life still has to be shitty in the
future.  It's a story about learning how to be happy, and learning how to
LET yourself be happy.

   All of us can identify with those situations.  That's why I think this
is worth reading.

   Oh yeah ...  there's another reason you might want to read it.  It
eventually has some pretty hot sex in it.<G>

   Thanks for reading.  

Bob 

==========================================

   As this story has a lot of characters in it, the following list of the
most important ones is provided, to help you keep track of who is who.  The
ages provided are as of the beginning of the story.

   Flossie Pendergast: Teacher, 26, black Harvey Wilson: Banker and father,
44, white Marian Wilson: Harvey's wife, 34, white Nathan Wilson: Eldest
child of Harvey and Marian, 16, white Bernadette Wilson: Elder daughter of
Harvey and Marian, 15, white Hilda Mae Wilson: Younger daughter of Harvey
and Marian, 14, white

   Other Students in the school:

   Curtis Lee Waggoner, 17, black Moses Finshaw, 15, black Johnnie Sue
Thorpe, 13, white Luthor Cripps, 12, white Jesse Hawthorne, 11, black

  
===========================================================================

   Prelude

   On May 18th, 1954, a sunny and otherwise perfect day in the southern
states of the United States of America, the day was completely ruined for
hundreds of thousands of citizens, who opened their newspapers and read
what was plastered across the front page of every newspaper in the nation.

   Dateline: Washington D.C., May 17, 1954.  "In a unanimous decision of
the United States Supreme Court, concerning Brown VS the Board of
Education, Topeka, Kansas, the following announcement was made:
"Segregation of white and colored children in public schools has a
detrimental effect upon the colored children.  The impact is greater when
it has the sanction of the law, for the policy of separating the races is
usually interpreted as denoting the inferiority of the Negro group.  A
sense of inferiority affects the motivation of a child to learn. 
Segregation with the sanction of law, therefore, has a tendency to [retard]
the educational and mental development of Negro children and to deprive
them of some of the benefits they would receive in a racially integrated

school system"

   Accounts then followed, describing how the Supreme Court also instructed
the federal district courts to require the local school authorities to
develop and carry out plans for integration "with all deliberate speed". 
In southern papers, it was pointed out, often in larger type, that this
decision, only affected the segregation of public schools and did not
abolish legally sanctioned segregation in other public areas.  In northern
papers, the follow-on stories proclaimed that it DID declare that
permissive or mandatory segregation that existed in twenty-one states was
unconstitutional.

   One citizen who read the newspaper that day was William Jefferson
Pruitt, a middle aged man who, until this date, had not distinguished
himself in any way, shape or form in the tiny community in which he lived,
called Catfish Hollow.  Pruitt was a white man, who had two children. 
Those children attended the Catfish Hollow public school, one of two
schools in the town of about three hundred population.  The other school
didn't have a name.

   When it sank into Pruitt's head that, according to the paper, when
school started up again in 1955, there would be children with dark skin
going to school at the Catfish Hollow public school, instead of that other
school where they now went, he was enraged beyond measure.

   In that reaction, he was not alone.

   Pruitt's mood was foul, after reading the newspaper, so he did what many
men in the community did when they were in a foul mood.  He immediately
went to the porch of the General Store, meeting other men who had read the
paper, and were equally motivated to "discuss" the catastrophic
announcement.  Pruitt's mood got worse.

   Sometimes, when men gathered at the General Store, action was taken, and
Pruitt wanted to see action taken.  But, on this day, while all the men who
gathered there were upset about the court's decision, the vast majority of
them had, what to them, were bigger problems.  Primary among those problems
was growing enough tobacco and cotton to make enough money to keep the wolf
from their door and feed their families.  And, by an large, the men who
gathered there were law-abiding men.  They didn't like what had happened,
but it didn't appear that there was much that could actually be done to
counter the court's directive to integrate the Catfish Hollow Public
School.

   They couldn't even take out their anger on any of the black citizens of
Catfish Hollow at that particular time.  That was because no black citizen
was stupid enough to show his face in town that day.

   William Jefferson Pruitt, however, decided to do something about it.  He
was alone in that decision, at least in the town of Catfish Hollow, and
because this story is about that town, we will disregard what happened
elsewhere, at least initially.  Suffice it to say that, if Pruitt had known
that the court's order wouldn't actually be obeyed for at least ten more
years, he might not have done what he did.

   But, of course, he didn't know that.  He thought that his precious Liza
Jean might have to sit next to a dirty little nigger boy in school, the
very next year.

   He began drinking around ten in the morning, and stayed at it until
after dark.  His alcohol-fogged brain worried at the problem without any
answer coming to mind.  Then, when he realized he'd lost an entire day of
farming because of the situation, he decided to prepare his tractor for the
next day's work by filling the gas tank.  It was while doing that, that the
answer came to him.

   By the time that answer came to him, the five gallon gas can in his
hands was only half full, the rest having gone into the tractor's tank. 
Looking around blearily, he saw another five gallon can, this one
containing kerosene, and he topped off the gas can with that.  Then he set
off for the Catfish Hollow Public School.

   The building wasn't locked.  No one locked anything in Catfish Hollow.
He distributed the five gallons of gas-kerosene mixture by simply tipping
the can and shaking it while he staggered around the four rooms that made
up the building.  The pant legs of his overalls, and his scuffed brown
leather shoes soaked up perhaps a quart of the fuel.  His right hand,
supporting the top of the can, and shaking it, also got wet with the
mixture.

   Pruitt was cackling aloud, thinking about how no nigger children could
defile a school house that didn't exist any more, when he struck the match
...  with his right hand.

   To say that William Jefferson Pruitt burned down the Catfish Hollow
Public School is to put too fine a point on it.  He intended to throw the
match, and exit the building.  The problem was that, in his drunken stupor,
the door he planned to exit the building from, turned out to be the door
from one room into the next, and not the exit to the building.  Further,
while the match did ignite one splatter of the flammable cocktail on the
floor, the primary thing it lit on fire was ...  William Jefferson Pruitt.
It was the torch that Pruitt became, that then distributed the fire more or
less evenly throughout the building as he ran, screaming, and bounced off
of walls.

   By the time he reached the actual exit to the building, where he had
dumped the majority of the fuel mixture, there was that perfect
distribution of vapors in the air that is similar to what firemen call
'flashover', or 'backdraft', though it was technically neither of those
conditions.

   The results were, in one sense, all that Pruitt might have hoped for. 
By the time anyone else got to the site, it was clear that no one would be
going to school in the burnt-out shell that was left.  The volunteer
firemen cranked up the old fire truck, but by the time they got any water
on the blaze, all that was left were two walls, and a pile of something
that was eventually identified as the remains of William Jefferson Pruitt.

   It's also a pretty fair bet that those remains, buried in a child's
coffin, because they would fit and it was cheaper, were turning in his
grave almost as that coffin was lowered into the ground of the white-only
cemetery outside of town.

   That is because, during the meeting of the town fathers that followed,
their decision was that it would be too expensive to build a new school. 
Seeing as how the only white students in the school were the children of
share-croppers, and since those children had worked and played with the
children who went to that other school all their lives anyway ...  and with
what had been published in the paper and all ...  it was just decided that
they'd all have to go to the only remaining school in town.

   In effect, William Jefferson Pruitt advanced the cause of de-segregation
in the Catfish Hollow Public School a good ten years.  Had he left the
building alone, nothing much would have changed in the town.  People were
too used to things the way they were, and, truth be told, no outsiders
would have pushed the issue, had both schools been kept open and operating
in thoroughly segregated fashion.  Catfish Hollow was too small, too poor
and too far away from the big wide world to show up on the radar of any
damned Yankee, or any of the damned nigger-lovers who were causing all that
trouble.

   There were two other casualties of the incident that night.

   One was Mable Crosby, the school teacher of the school that burned down.
When she was informed that she would start school in 'the other school' the
next year, she suddenly decided to accept the marriage proposal of Morris
Fullbright, a traveling salesman who had been sparking her for three years
on his infrequent visits to town, trying his best to get into her thick,
sensible panties.  She moved away to be with her new husband.

   The other was Elsie Toombs, who was the teacher of the other school. 
She wanted no part of writing grades on the report cards of white students.
One of the girls she had just graduated, named Flossie Pendergast, was
actually going to go to a real college the next fall, and that, as far as
she was concerned, was the apex of her career.  It could only go down hill
from there.  She had a sister who had gone North, and she went to visit
her. She never came back.

   It took the town fathers four years to find another teacher, and that's
when William Jefferson Pruitt's bones began whirling in his grave like a
dust devil.

   ========================================

   Flossie's Revenge by Beating Off Bob

   Flossie Pendergast struggled, her arms full, to reach the doorknob and
open the door to the old building.  She hooked the knob with her fingers
and twisted, pushing against the door with her shoulder and knocking off a
few more paint chips.  The door stuck, and she had to put everything down
and then pull, twist and push in just the right order before the door
creaked open.  It was the same every day as she entered the decrepit
schoolhouse where she was the teacher, teacher's aide, and janitor, all
combined into one.  In private, she called herself the Principal of the
school, but she couldn't say it out loud.  That would bring the kind of
scorn and derision she was so used to, but which ate at her guts like a rat
inside a dead possum.

   She surveyed her kingdom, such as it was, her eyes falling on the
scarred and tilting desks, with their built-in chairs that required a
student to slide into the seat from the left side.  There were fifteen of
those desks, neathly lined up, facing the wall with the blackboard on it.
One forlorn wooden, straight-backed chair, two slats missing out of the
back, sat by the board.  Other than that there was no furniture in the one
room that made up the structure.  There was no desk for the teacher.  What
few materials she had scraped together were in cubby holes that had been
nailed to the wall, patched together from odds and ends of lumber that had
been scrounged from the surrounding area.  A former student had done the
work.

   =========================================================

   The school was in a region of the United States that was south of the
Mason Dixon line, and East of Texas - exactly where isn't all that
important - and most of the reason that the school was in such poor repair
was because the building had once been used to house thirty people who, in
these modern days, would gently be called 'migrant workers'.  In the old
days, though, the workers didn't have the luxury of moving from place to
place to pick the cotton, or tend the tobacco.  If they felt compelled to
move from one place to another, shackles took care of that.

   Due to the 'unsettling conflict', as the locals called it, which had
ended just under a hundred years earlier, that building could no longer be
used for its intended purpose.  It had housed 'employees' for another half
century, and In roughly 1930, it had been converted to a school house when
the plantation house it had been behind was destroyed in by a tornado.  No
one thought it was ironic that the storm had reduced the big house to
splinters, while the old slave quarters had been untouched.  It provided
what most people thought of as an appropriate place for the nigger brats to
receive just enough education so they could read.

   Since then, of course, as towns grew, new schools had been built.  One
had been built in Catfish Hollow, in fact, but it was for whites only, and
it had burned down, six years ago.  This was the backwater of Callaway
County, though, where, in 1960, the tax base was not only small, but poor
as well.  The people who had money didn't see the point in spending taxes
on a new school, particularly since the only teacher they could draw to the
area was Flossie.

   Flossie was a black woman, and her students were a mixture of black and
white children of sharecropper families.  The Catfish Hollow Public School,
though it had no sign on the front to proclaim it as such, was quite
possibly the only integrated school in a six hundred mile radius.

   Flossie was one of the few women of color who had the chance to escape
Calloway County, and actually go to a four year college.  That was the
result of her bachelor uncle, a man who had seen the world, and who had
seen that a better life could be had than what could be found where he and
his only niece were born and raised.  It was a struggle to pay her tuition,
but he had made many sacrifices for other people already, and his personal
needs were few.  He had learned to live with very few amenities during the
war to end all wars, and had saved his pay.  He was used to going without,
so to him there was little difference.

   For Flossie, though, the difference was phenomenal.  Almost all the
faces around her at Spelman college, in Atlanta, had been as black as hers,
but these were the cream of the crop, so to speak, and her imagination had
been fired with the fervor of finding a place where she was not only
considered equal as a human being, but was appreciated for her intellect,
and given a chance to prove what she could do.  Further, in her second year
of college, when she met a man named Howard Zinn, she learned something
about white people she hadn't really known before this.  That was in 1956,
when the white professor, hired for $4000 a year, came to Spelman to be the
first white man to teach at the school.  Upon his arrival, he had been
ostracized by landlords and everybody else because he was white and was
teaching blacks.  His sacrifice, and that of his family in joining him,
fundamentally changed the way a lot of black students thought about whites
in general, and the state of racial equality specifically.

   =============================================================

   Her return to Calloway County had been intended to be triumphal.  She
was going to change things ...  get respect ...  make the little part of
the world where she had come from a better place to live and work.  Besides
...  she had the full weight of the Supreme Court of the United States
behind her ...  right?

   That she was installed in the same school as she had grown up in was no
surprise.  She had lived in Catfish Hollow the summer after the white
school burned, and knew that no new school was planned.  What ended up
being the surprise was that, even though her students hadn't been to school
in four years, and that she not only caught them up, but their grades were
the best anybody had seen in twenty years, no one seemed to care.  In the
two years she had been teaching, the kids got excited, as she exposed them
to learning, but that excitement was thoroughly squashed when they got home
at night.  Several parents, almost always white, had verbally abused her
for "putting notions" in their children's' heads, about making a better
life for themselves.

   Knowing there was a better world out there, though, kept her going, and
kept the fire in her teaching.  The children, over those two years, began
to become less and less susceptible to the dark predictions their parents
made about their futures.  Two of the young men (one white and one black)
who had graduated had gone off to join the service, learning from Flossie
that opportunity (and escape) was possible.

   That didn't endear her to the local population much.  While everyone was
proud to have a son in the military, it also meant the loss of strong backs
and hands to help do the work that still had to be done.

   Flossie soon learned that she had to choose her battles very carefully.
One of the things she had argued for, for instance, was a new building,
which was laughed at by almost everyone.  She also argued for a full day of
school, instead of the half day that let the children spend more time at
home, working, alongside their parents, making the few wealthy people in
the little town of Catfish Hollow richer.  All she got was an extra hour
while the weather was good.  On days when no work could be done in the
fields, she got to keep the children longer.

   Her argument to start sending the children to school at age six, instead
of the routine eight or nine, got blank stares, until she suggested that
they would be able to read earlier in life.  Because many of their parents
couldn't read, that made sense to them and she got what she wanted.

   Her plea for books got her nothing.  She had a blackboard, and they
bought her a box of chalk every year.  That should be enough.

   She got an indoor bathroom patched onto the side of the building by the
simple expedient of claiming that the children wouldn't get sick as often,
and require bed rest, which kept them out of the fields.  That the commode
in the leaky bathroom simply drained out into the field behind the school,
about twenty yards away, was something she couldn't do anything about. 
There were times when she felt lucky that the water in the single spigot
that jutted from one wall, and off which a branch was installed for the
toilet, worked at all.  The toilet, of course, was a hand-me-down from the
town plumber, who had removed it from the store owner's house during a
renovation.  He donated it, in lieu of paying part of his county taxes.

   While the men worked on the bathroom, she had managed to talk one of
them into splicing an old extension cord into the single light fixture on
the ceiling, and run it to another light fixture one of her students had
proudly scavenged from a trash heap.  That gave them two light fixtures. 
There were no outlets, of course.  Why would something like that be needed?

   She looked critically at one corner of the room, and arrived at the
conclusion that the crack in that corner had widened a bit.  She had stood
outside, before, looking down one wall, noting what she was sure was a
slight tilt.  She didn't look along that wall any more, because it
depressed her.  The whole building was leaning to the North, and it was
getting worse.

   As she began to write the day's lesson on the board, Flossie felt that
pang of sadness that had been returning more often lately.  Her grand plans
were not working out.  Nothing would change.  Catfish Hollow would remain
the same, and she would probably grow old and die here with nothing to show
for it.  There wasn't even a man to lighten the burden by loving her.  All
the men her age were already mated with other women, producing babies as
quickly as possible so that there would be more hands to do the work.  Her
father had worked himself to death and, while her mother was still alive
and living in the shack Flossie had grown up in, she wasn't interested in
life.  Flossie still visited her regularly, but it was depressing.  Her
mother would never change either, and still claimed college had been a
waste of good money.

   Her wages just went in the bank, because her living expenses were so
little.  In a moment of weakness, the town fathers had provided a house
that went with the teaching position.  That was only because they couldn't
get anyone to teach in the broken down school when the previous teacher
left.  That, and the fact that the property provided had been taken for
back taxes, even though it had been bought and paid for, for years.  The
old black man who had owned it, but who had grown too old to work and pay
his taxes, had moved in with one of his daughters, but had died shortly
afterward.

   Now, other than some that went to her mother, about all Flossie used her
money for was buying things for her students to use in the learning
process. She bought a new dress now and then, but she hated having to go
into the store, where she had to enter in the back door, marked "Colored".
The white owner ogled her, and the white women acted as if she wasn't even
there.  It was bad enough shopping for food.  And every place she went,
there were the hated "White Only" signs that she had taken for granted as a
child, but learned to loathe as a college student.  She couldn't even take
a sip of water, or use the bathroom in most places in town.  As a result,
she tried not to go into town unless it was absolutely necessary.

   She'd thought about leaving ...  going North, where there might be an
opportunity to live a better life.  But she didn't know anyone up North ...
didn't know where to go, or how to find a place to go, and a lifetime of
being told where to go and what to do and even how to feel had settled into
her bones much more deeply than she believed.  Her uncle would help, of
course, but he had given her too much already, and he wasn't far enough
north to make all that much difference in how she would be treated.

   She was writing, the chalk rasping on the board, when the door creaked
open and someone came in.  She expected one of the students, but when she
turned her head it was a white woman, who stood, looking around in what was
plainly horror.

   "Can I help you?" asked Flossie.

   "This must be the wrong place," said the woman.  "I must have gotten
turned around.  I'm looking for a school."

   "This is the Catfish Hollow Public School," said Flossie.

   "I meant the white school," said the woman.

   "This is only school that services Catfish Hollow," said Flossie,
patiently.

   "You've got to be joking," said the woman.  She was suddenly pushed
forward, and, as she stepped into the room, two girls and a boy followed
her.  They were in their mid to late teens.

   The older girl stopped and looked around.

   "THIS is the school, mamma?  I don't want to go to school HERE!" There
were murmurs of agreement from the other two youths.

   "This has to be some kind of mistake," insisted the woman.  "Where's the
teacher?"

   "I'm Flossie Pendergast," said Flossie with dignity.  "I teach the
children here."

   "Damn!" snorted the younger girl.  "A nigger teacher!  Mamma, you can't
make us go to school here!" She stomped her foot and shook her blond curls,
an angry set to her face."

   "Oh my," sighed the woman.  "Oh, dear me." She looked at Flossie, and
then at the room, and then back at Flossie.  "My husband got moved here by
the bank.  We just moved into town.  Surely there's another school for the
white children."

   Flossie felt heat suffuse her face, and was glad her skin was so dark
that her blush didn't show.  "As I said, ma'am, this is the school for
Catfish Hollow." She folded her arms under her breasts.  "All of Catfish
Hollow," she added.

   "Mamma, this ain't right," said the boy.  "They can't make us go to no
school with no nigger teacher."

   "Young man," said Flossie sternly.  "It is plain that whatever school
you HAVE been going to hasn't taught you much.  Your language is
atrocious."

   All four of the other people in the room stood with mouths open in
shock.

   "Mamma, that nigger just said Nathan is stupid," gasped the older girl.

   The woman, who Flossie would later learn was named Marian Wilson, closed
her mouth with a snap, and her brow furrowed.  "Well I never!" she said. 
"We'll just see about that!"

   She hustled her children back out the door, like a mother hen, and
Flossie sighed.  This would probably bring trouble.  Then, with a wry
smile, she wondered what kind of trouble anybody could make for her.  They
needed her in this town, even if they didn't admit it.  The teaching
position had gone unfilled for four years when it was vacated, and the
children had missed that much school.  Of course that didn't really matter
to the sharecropper families.  They just went on with life, working sunup
to sundown, and the children worked right along with them.

   Flossie suddenly wondered what the search for a teacher might have been
like had children like those she had just seen been in the student body. 
THOSE children would be interested in going to college, or at least getting
a good, solid High School diploma to go out into life with.  Missing even
one year of school for them would have been viewed as a disaster.

   Her regular students began arriving, and the smiles on their faces, both
black and white, gave her the shot in the arm she needed to get going
again. Her students might be poor, and have no real prospects in life, but
they had been bitten by the bug of discovering new things ...  interesting
things ...  things they might never see or use, but were fascinated by
anyway.  They now loved coming to school, and they applied themselves when
they got there.

   Much of Flossie's teaching was done story-telling style.  She hadn't
been taught that in college, but it was the best tool she had.  Not only
had she grown up in a world where story tellers were common - she had sat
for hours, entranced by a good story - it gave her a way to transmit
information that should be available to the children in text books, which
they didn't have.  Flossie had her own collection of books, though, and by
teaching what was in them story-teller style, and passing the books around
so they could see the pictures, the job got done.

   That style worked well for the children too, since story tellers were
revered in their world.  Story tellers knew everything - everybody knew
that - so Flossie's credibility was taken for granted, at least by the
children.

   She was a couple of hours into a description of the history of the
middle ages when the door banged open and a sweating white man in
suspenders, with his suit jacket hanging limply from one arm, stomped into
the room.  He was a big man, probably weighing two-fifty or more, and his
ample belly was topped off by a head that looked too small, and was bereft
of hair on top.

   As if they were all controlled by some machine, the heads of all the
children turned toward the man.  No sound was uttered.

   "You must be this Miss Flossie I've heard so much about," boomed the
man, his bow tie wiggling against his Adam's apple as he spoke.

   "I'm Flossie Pendergast," said Flossie, her voice carefully neutral.

   "Asked around about you," said the man, looking for someplace to hang
the cream colored woven hat he removed from his head.  It had a stark red
band on it that went with the red suspenders.  It was clear he didn't
remove it as a sign of respect when he wiped his brow with the back of his
hand and then put it back on.  "They say you went to college and
everything."

   "And you must be the new banker," said Flossie, confidently.

   "Well, you're pretty smart for a ni-gruh woman."

   The man smiled, and Flossie knew it was a professional smile that was
supposed to make her comfortable.  It didn't.  His corruption of the word
"Negro" was his plain attempt to let her know that, while he was "too
cultured" to use the more common "nigger" he still considered her
sub-human. His language went with his constant contact with the public. 
Despite appearances, there WERE people in the world who didn't approve of
the use of "nigger" any longer.

   "I am, in fact, Harvey Wilson, president of Farmer's Bank," he said
proudly.

   "Pleased to meet you, Mr.  Wilson," said Flossie calmly.  "I believe I
met your wife and children earlier."

   "Don't this beat all," smiled Harvey, his smile as patently false as it
could be and still resemble a smile.  "Imagine a ni-gruh woman teaching
school."

   Flossie's smile was strained, and she felt like she was actually baring
her teeth at the man.  "I've been teaching for two years, Mr.  Wilson.  I
don't have to imagine that."

   "Uppity, aren't you?" said the man heavily.  "But, I s'pose you'll just
have to do ...  until we can get a real teacher in here." He looked around.
"You've let the place go to seed, I see." His head swiveled and he didn't
give her time to respond.  "We'll just have to do something about that too.
My children deserve a real education in a real school."

   Flossie knew there was very little she could say in this situation that
would accomplish anything.  Still, her anger wouldn't stay inside her, and
she spoke almost automatically.

   "I'm sure there are a number of private schools available ...  Mobile?
...  Atlanta perhaps? ...  Maybe Charleston?"

   Harvey shot her a dark look.  He might be the president of a bank, but
it was a bank in Catfish Hollow.  Harvey Wilson was not going to live in
the lap of luxury, regardless of what he thought should happen.  He knew
that, and the fact that this uppity nigger obviously knew it too, and
actually felt like she could mock him, made his gut boil.

   "I'd rather build a decent school right here in the community," he said.
"With a decent teacher.  But, until that happens, I suppose we'll just have
to get by.  You mark my words, though.  My young'uns had better be taught
well, or there'll be hell to pay."

   "I teach all my students well, Mr.  Wilson," said Flossie tightly.  "If
you've been asking around, you should know by now that the grade point
averages of my students are quite impressive."

   "That don't mean they know a damn thing," snarled Harvey.  "All that
means you give 'em good grades.  You just actually TEACH my young'uns
something while you're still here, and I might arrange to give you a half
decent recommendation when you go looking for another job teaching trash
like this." He looked triumphant, as his eyes raked over the sons and
daughters of tenant farmers.  His chin went up a little.  "My kids will be
here tomorrow morning.  You make sure you're on time, and they don't have
to wait outside.  And they'll be going to school all day, not like ... 
these children here." He gave her a sickly sweet smile.  "So don't plan on
going off and lying in the shade in the afternoons.  You hear me?"

   Flossie could hardly keep a sneer off her face, but she managed.  This
man could cause her real trouble.  She had her savings, but they were in
HIS bank, and she still didn't have any place to go on short notice.

   "I'll be here at seven," she said simply.

   Chapter 2

   Flossie spent the rest of the morning dealing with the negative
atmosphere Harvey Wilson had left behind.  Her students were well
acquainted with racism, of course, both black and white.  The white
students "knew" they were better than the black ones, at least when Flossie
first got there.  Since then, however, her instruction, and the fact that
she could identify almost as many people of Negro heritage, who had
invented or done something important in history, as she could White, had
slowly resulted in a condition where the children had begun to view each
other as just ...  other children.  The racism wasn't gone, but it was much
weaker.  Each of her students had some kind of talent, and she encouraged
all of them to recognize the talents in the others.

   While she didn't know it yet, her efforts had already succeeded beyond
her wildest hopes.

   Three of her students were a girl, named Johnnie Sue, and two boys,
named Luthor and Jesse.

   Johnnie Sue was a thirteen year old white girl, who could best be
described as a tomboy.  She could fish and hunt as well as any man and her
wiry body would stand the rigors of just about any job that didn't involve
lifting anything too much over her body weight, which was eighty pounds. 
Johnnie Sue was, to her immense chagrin, developing the body of a young
woman.  Periods had been bad enough, but now she was sprouting breasts and
hair and everything, and she was NOT impressed.

   Luthor was also white, was a year younger than Johnnie Sue, and also a
good fisherman and hunter.  He was tall for his age, standing at just over
five feet eight inches.  Had one compared his body with Johnnie Sue's, the
only real difference, other than the obvious sex differences, would have
been that he grew less hair under his arms and between his legs than she
did.  Otherwise, their bodies looked remarkably similar.

   Jesse was different in obvious ways from the other two.  He was of the
Negroid race.  He was eleven, with a wiry underfed looking body.  He was a
couple of inches shorter than Luthor, and about the same height as Johnnie
Sue.  If his skin color wasn't taken into account, his muscles looked just
about like those of his two best friends.

   That was the secret Flossie didn't know about.

   Johnnie Sue, Luthor and Jesse were best friends.  They had taken that
decision very seriously one night, when it was too dark to work, and their
parents were resting, spent from a long day's labor.  All three families
worked land that belonged to Jasper Cummins, who owned the sixty acres
planted in cotton, and twenty-five acres planted in tobacco that, together,
they farmed.  It was farmed on shares, Jasper receiving half.  The other
half was split evenly between the three families who actually did the work.
Money only showed up when the crop was actually sold, so money was tight
for most of the year.  As a result, the children didn't have store-bought
toys.  They made their own fun playing with each other, hunting, fishing,
and just dreaming.

   The three youths had come together not so much by choice, but because
they had to work together.  Johnnie Sue earned the respect of both boys
because she could work just as hard as either of them.  The boys
recognized, in each other, a determination to excel that almost, but not
quite, led to competition.  Even those whites at the bottom of the totem
pole didn't compete with blacks in those days.  The superiority of whites
was just assumed.

   But, as the young people spent time together, growing up, they
recognized in each other the things they liked, and while, on the surface,
they kept their places in the social order, in private, they did something
unusual.  They accepted each other as equals.  That led to the sharing of
confidences, and that led to friendship.  During the last school year, once
they learned of the practice from their teacher, they couldn't resist the
romantic notion of engaging in the time-honored ritual of blood
brotherhood.

   The very night after they sat, rapt with attention, as Flossie described
how the Indians of the old Wild West had exchanged blood oaths, they
entered into their own blood oath.  Using a piece of broken glass, each
pricked his or her finger, and those fingers were pressed together with
great solemnity, each swearing that they would be linked for life, and
would give their lives for each other if necessary.

   After that, the differences that society used to separate them, not only
black from white, but male from female as well, seemed to make less and
less sense to them.  They still met secretly, to be sure, with Jesse coming
and leaving by different ways than the two white kids, but that was only to
preserve the secret.  By the time in their lives that this story is
telling, they had already decided that adults had some very strange and
stupid ideas, which they planned on completely ignoring whenever possible.
That did not mean they misunderstood how they had to act in public.  In
public, stupid adults made the rules.  But they rarely believed what any
adult said, black or white.

   There was one possible exception.  When Flossie Pendergast said
something, they believed it.  She was their idol ...  a person who seemed
to know almost everything, and never lied about it if she didn't.  She was
an adult they could trust completely.  Even so, they were still too young
to realize the irony of the fact that their idol was a social outcast in
the world in which they lived.  All they thought was that adults were too
stupid to see what their children had recognized.

   And it was for THAT reason, that they recognized Harvey Wilson for the
bigoted asshole that he was.  When Harvey left the building, he had three
new enemies he didn't even know about.

   So did his children, and they had never even met them.

   =======================================

   The "war" as Luthor, Johnnie Sue and Jesse called it, began that very
night.  After their chores were done, they gathered, as they did almost
every night.  Their first act of war was to avenge being called trash by
the new banker.  There were old boards and bits of wood lying around all
over the place, many with nails stuck through them.  Such hazards were
always carefully cataloged, if they couldn't be removed, since the threat
of lockjaw - and death - was quite real.

   The three located the weapons they would employ in this battle, and ran
to town together.

   These days, a twelve year old running four or five miles in the dark
would seem strange in the extreme.  For the trio of blood-brothers (these
young warriors wouldn't consider naming Johnnie Sue a blood 'sister' -
who'd ever heard of one of those?) it was something they did three or four
times a week, and they were only slightly winded when they arrived at their
objective.

   It hadn't been hard to find out where the new banker lived.  Five
minutes after they found the place, a small chunk of wood, with a rusty
nail protruding from it, had been wedged under the back of the right front
tire of the station wagon parked on the street out front of the house. 
Another one was wedged under the front of the left rear tire ...  just in
case.  No matter which direction the car went in the morning, it would
suffer a flat tire.

   The run back home was even easier, due primarily to an excess of
adrenaline in the bloodstreams of the young troublemakers.

   ====================================

   Class had been in session for two hours the next day, when the Wilson
children arrived for their first day of school in Catfish Hollow.  They
were a bedraggled lot, their fine clothes dusty and sweat stained.  THESE
young people didn't run anywhere, and the two mile walk to school had taxed
them heavily.

   Flossie, of course, didn't know about why the three teens were late. 
She was surprised not to have heard a car deliver them.

   "You're late," she noted, as they trooped in.

   "That's because this stupid town has boards with nails in them lying
around everywhere," said the older girl.  "My Daddy got TWO flat tires this
morning, before we even went a block!"

   Apparently he had moved both forward AND back while leaving the house.
There were giggles from the line of students, seated quietly at their
desks, but Flossie couldn't identify who had been so amused.

   "Well, find a seat and introduce yourselves," said Flossie.

   "I ain't gonna sit where no nigger has sat," said the boy belligerently.

   Flossie looked at him, her face set.

   "Well, then, I suppose you'll just have to stand, young man." Her eyes
strayed to the girls.  "You young ladies may either sit, or stand, as you
wish.  Now, what are your names, please?"

   ========================================

   That the three Wilson children responded to her request, is a thing that
is difficult for folks to fully understand in these modern days.  This is
because the social setting of the day was almost laughably convoluted. 
While many white women adhered to the belief that Negroes were lazy,
stupid, untrustworthy, and even dangerous, they thought nothing of hiring
black women to raise their children.  Part of that was because, when one
had servants, one felt like she was in an elevated social position.  There
weren't many white women who were willing to become servants, so that void
was filled by black women, who not only bathed, fed and supervised their
young white charges, they were often the primary source of the early
knowledge that was put into those young white heads.  What, today, is often
done by Sesame Street and such television programs, was done primarily by
Negro nannies back then.

   So, white children were often well acquainted with the idea that a black
woman could have authority over them.  The Wilson children had, in fact,
been raised by a middle-aged black woman named Annie - they never knew her
last name, nor cared.  But Annie's authority was convoluted as well.  The
children could (and often did) demand things from Annie, and she had to
accede to their demands ...  unless those demands contravened orders from
the parents.  What that led to were situations that were unclear, in which
a child might demand something one minute, and get his or her wish, and
then demand something else the next moment that was denied.

   Everyone involved had to learn to walk that tightrope.  Sometimes a cry
of "I'm gonna tell my Mamma" was cause for the adult to quail, while at
other times it might result in "You just go ahead and whine to yore mamma,
child, and see what it gets you!" At the same time, Anna had been there to
kiss the scratches, and soothe the hurt feelings, and nurture the children
in ways that, without servants (or daycare) a mother would normally have
done.  Over the years, Anna had forged a relationship with the three Wilson
children that was as complex as inter-office politics are these days ... 
on both sides of the group.  As hard as it is to believe, that relationship
was based about half on fear and intimidation, and half love and respect.

   Anna, however, had not moved with the family She stayed in Atlanta,
where she would, no doubt, take under wing another group of spoiled white
brats, to earn her living.  This left the Wilson children without the
social support they had had all their lives.  For another black woman to be
placed in a position of authority over them, even if she was much younger,
was something that wasn't, in one sense, strange.  And for that reason,
perhaps, her request was granted.

   "I'm Nathan Wilson," said the boy.  "And these are my sisters Bernadette
and Hilda Mae."

   His response was typical of a well-to-do white boy in that situation. 
It was a complex mixture of being polite - he introduced the females -
mixed with an almost unimaginable lack of concern, when he didn't indicate
which girl was which.  That resulted from his arrogant expectation that the
others in the room would somehow know.

   "We are pleased you could join us," said Flossie politely.  "Let me
introduce the other children to you."

   She started to do just that, but had gotten only through three names
before she realized that none of the Wilson children cared what the names
were, of the others in the room.  Hilda Mae was carefully examining her
dress to see if it was dirty.  Bernadette had carefully sat just on the
edge of one of the empty desk seats, and had removed her shoe to rub her
foot.  Nathan was looking around the room, with what might pass for a look
of disgust on his face.

   As luck would have it, the history lesson for the day dealt with World
War II, and the role that aviation had played in the outcome of that war.
All the children had, of course, seen airplanes flying about.  The ones
they were most acquainted with dusted crops, and dipped and weaved into and
out of the fields in ways that Flossie was able to use to explain what
dogfights must have been like.

   And, as luck would have it, Flossie had even better information about
the air war and the role fighters had played in it.  The same uncle who had
sent Flossie to college was also a Tuskeegee Airman, with three confirmed
kills over Europe.  As she spun the tale of the life of the fighter pilots,
even the Wilson children began to pay attention.  Both Hilda Mae and
Bernadette had claimed seats, unwilling to stand while the others sat. 
Nathan stood for long minutes, until the ache in his feet drove him to sit
on the very edge of a chair.

   All went well until Flossie got to the part about her uncle, and
described the fighting he did as he had described it to her.

   "That's a LIE!" shouted Nathan suddenly.

   While those words had been heard in the school house before, they had
never been directed toward the teacher.  Not Flossie, at least.  Every head
in the room swiveled to look at Nathan, even those of his sisters, who
looked on interestedly.

   "What seems to be the matter?" asked Flossie calmly.

   "There wasn't never no nigger who flew a fighter like that and killed a
German.  That ain't possible!"

   "Why wouldn't that be possible, Nathan?" asked Flossie.  The tone of her
voice was carefully neutral.

   "Everybody knows niggers can't use machines like an airplane," said
Nathan, as if he were explaining something to a small child.  "They're too
complicated."

   Flossie went to her bag, and pulled something out of it.

   "I'm going to pass around this photograph," she said, ignoring Nathan.
"It was given to me by my uncle, the one I told you about.  It's a picture
of him standing beside his fighter."

   She started the picture out with the smallest child, as was her custom.
Whenever pictures were displayed, the little ones got to see them first,
and then the older children.  It was one way of making the little ones feel
important.  The students, whether consciously or not, passed it among
themselves, somehow never remembering to hand it to any of the Wilson
children.  There were oohs and aahs from some of the older students.

   The last to receive the picture was Curtis Lee, a young black man who
was the son of a woman who ran a laundry service in town.  His father was
dead, lynched when Curtis Lee was only four.  It was said that his father
had whistled at a white woman, embarrassing her in front of her friends. 
Men had come for him in the night, and his body had been found hanging from
a lamp post where the incident was said to have taken place.

   Because his mother performed a service in town that no white woman
wanted to do, and was therefore relatively well off, Curtis Lee did not
have to work in the fields.  He had therefore received more instruction
than the other children, and when he wasn't in school, he read anything he
could get his hands on.  He wasn't allowed to check books out of the tiny
library that Old Miz Hopkins ran, but she didn't mind if he sat in the back
and read the books that were on the shelves.  Over the years, he had run a
number of errands for the old woman, and she had become fond of him.  He
had also read almost everything the library owned.

   Curtis Lee looked at the photograph carefully.  "P-51" he announced.  "I
read somewhere that The Tuskeegee group painted the tails red, and that the
bomber crews started asking for them to fly cover during bombing missions."

   "My uncle said the same thing," said Flossie, beaming.  If ever she was
proud of a student, it was Curtis Lee.  She would give anything to be able
to get him into a college.  She reached out to receive the photograph back
from Curtis Lee, but Nathan jumped out of his seat and snatched it first.

   "Lemme see that," he said.  He looked at the picture and sneered.  "That
don't mean nuthin'.  He prob'ly just put on that outfit and had one of his
nigger friends take that picture."

   Then, with great deliberation, he tore the picture in half, and threw it
at Flossie's feet.

   Flossie felt an almost explosive surge of anger, but controlled it.

   "You shouldn't have done that, Nathan," she said, her voice tight. 
"That's an irreplaceable picture, and it belonged to me.  You don't have
the right to destroy other people's property."

   Nathan wasn't moved an inch.

   "An you don't have no right to show lies around to people neither!" His
jaw jutted out.

   Flossie kneeled and picked up the two halves of her uncle's picture and
she put them in her bag.  Things looked even more disastrous than she had
imagined.

   "Tell you what," she said quietly.  "I'll write to my uncle.  He flies a
crop dusting plane for a company up in Missouri.  If he can prove to you
that he actually flew in the war, will you apologize to me?"

   "Apologize to a nigger?!" Nathan's voice was incredulous.  Then he
snorted.  "Sure ...  why not?  I know you're lying ...  and him too.  There
ain't no way a nigger could fly any kind of airplane.  I'll believe it when
I SEE it!" He smiled a gratuitous grin and sat back down.

   =======================================

   That afternoon, when the children left, and the Wilson children opened
up the box lunches that had been sent with them to school, only they and
Curtis Lee were left.  Flossie generally spent the afternoons with Curtis
Lee, talking about whatever he wanted to pursue.  Sometimes that was
something he'd read about, and wanted to explore in terms of the science or
math that was involved.  Sometimes they leafed through Flossie's few text
books, purchased at great expense while she was in college, and saved as
precious sources of knowledge.

   Having the Wilson children there, though, changed all that.  The first
thing Flossie decided to tackle was English, in an attempt to improve
Nathan's speech in particular, and that of the girls in general.  To start,
she handed a dog-eared copy of "The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz" to Bernadette.

   "Have you ever read this story?" she asked.

   Bernadette looked at the faded, but still colorful illustration on the
front of the book and shook her head.

   "It's a really wonderful story about a girl, maybe a girl like you, who
has a fantastic adventure in a magical place called Oz," Flossie explained.
"Please read from chapter one."

   Bernadette opened the book, and began reading.  She stumbled
occasionally on this or that word, but did reasonably well.  After ten
minutes Flossie had her hand the book to her younger sister, who also read
well.  Hilda Mae's voice took on that special characteristic of a
storyteller who is enthralled with the story as she read about the tornado,
and how the house flew and circled in the storm.  At the point where it was
clear the house had landed on top of somebody, Flossie indicated that the
book should be passed to Nathan.

   "I don't want to read," he said.  "Hilda Mae is a good reader.  Tell her
to go on."

   "Hilda Mae is, indeed, a good reader, but the purpose of this is to let
everyone contribute and learn.  Please read."

   It was clear from the very beginning that Nathan was far behind his
younger siblings in his reading and English skills.  Flossie had suspected
as much from his language, but hadn't expected a privileged white boy to be
as far behind as he was.  After half a page he stopped, his face flushed
with anger, and shoved the book toward Flossie.

   "YOU read it!" he growled.

   Curtis Lee's hand appeared from nowhere, and grasped the book, pulling
it gently from Nathan's hand.

   "I'll read for a while," he said softly.

   "You can read?" asked Nathan, sounding skeptical.

   "Sure," was Curtis Lee's quiet reply.

   Curtis Lee read the same way that Hilda Mae read, his voice changing
from the soft southern slur that was all any of them had heard, and taking
on life as the descriptions in the story were read flawlessly.  Flossie
glanced at the girls, both of whom were wide-eyed, astonished at what they
were hearing.  Nathan's face was pale, his eyes dark with shame and
embarrassment.

   When Curtis Lee stopped and looked up, he slumped, becoming again the
soft-voiced youth.  He held the book out to Bernadette, but she just sat
there.

   "You read good!" she said, awe plain in her voice.

   "Well," corrected Flossie.  "He reads well."

   "You knew what I meant," said Bernadette, stiffening.

   "Of course I did.  All I'm doing is teaching you proper English.  You
want to sound educated, don't you?" Flossie smiled.

   "All right," Bernadette sighed.  "He reads well.  There, are you happy
now?"

   "It doesn't matter whether I'm happy or not," said Flossie.  "I'm here
to teach you things ...  English ...  math ...  science."

   "Why do we have to learn science and all that," complained Bernadette.
"We'll never have to know all that stuff."

   "Education helps us understand the world we live in," explained Flossie
patiently.  Knowing science may help you understand a machine you need to
use, or keep you safe from some danger.  What are you going to do when you
grow up and leave home?  If you know science, you might invent something
important."

   "Me?!" laughed Bernadette.  "Invent something?  Women don't invent
things!"

   "They most certainly do," said Flossie.  "Women have invented hundreds
of the things that make our lives much happier."

   "Like what?" asked Hilda Mae, leaning forward.  "Bernadette doesn't
care. She just wants to get married and have babies.  But I LIKE science."

   Flossie went to a box, nailed to the wall, and opened the lid, reaching
inside.  She brought out one of her favorite books, written by a man named
Henry Baker.  Henry Baker, a black man, was an assistant patent examiner at
the U.S.  Patent Office in 1900 who was dedicated to uncovering and
publicizing the contributions of Black inventors.  It happened as a result
of the Patent Office conducting a survey to gather information about black
inventors and their inventions.  Letters were written to thousands of
patent attorneys, company presidents and newspaper editors, among others,
to gather information about things that had been invented or designed by
Negroes.  There was legislation that addressed whether patents could be
held by slaves, or freed men, and court battles about the same thing. 
Baker compiled his findings into four huge volumes, and then wrote a simple
text book based on that.  Even fifty years later, his information was still
being used in ongoing court battles about patents and rights.

   There was an entry in the book she had used before, and was prepared to
use again now.

   "Where did you get all those lovely curls in your hair?" asked Flossie
as she leafed through the book.

   "What?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Your hair is curled.  Bernadette's too.  Is that natural, or did
someone have to curl it for you?"

   "Mamma took us to the beauty shop with her," said Bernadette.  "She says
we have to set an example in our new town."

   "And does your mother let you wear cosmetics?"

   "Cos...  What's that?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Powders and creams and lipstick ...  things like that, that you put on
your face?"

   "We're not old enough for that yet," sighed Bernadette.  "Mamma uses it
and she's so beautiful it makes my heart burst."

   "Here we go," said Flossie, turning the book around so the girls could
see the grainy photograph of a woman in old fashioned clothing, wearing a
flamboyant hat.  The picture was of a Negro woman.  Flossie didn't have to
read.  She knew the facts by heart.

   "Madame C.J.  Walker, born in 1867, worked for a woman in a beauty shop.
She noticed that some women had a problem that made their hair fall out. 
She invented a scalp conditioner and healing cream.  It was so successful
that she opened her own business in Denver, Colorado, and then established
schools for women to learn how to do all those things they do in that
beauty shop your mamma took you to.  She went on to invent all kinds of
cosmetics.  She also invented the machine they used to put all those lovely
curls into your hair.  When she died her estate was worth over a million
dollars.  Knowing something about chemistry is why she was able to do all
that."

   Flossie stopped talking.  Both girls were staring goggle-eyed at the
picture in the book.

   "A nigger woman did all that?" gasped Bernadette.

   "A Negro woman did that," corrected Flossie.  "Let me ask you a
question, Bernadette.  How would you feel if I called you a whore, or a
slut?"

   Bernadette's eyes opened as wide as they possibly could, and her mouth
gaped open.  She was so flabbergasted by the question she couldn't even
speak.

   Flossie went on.  "I'm not calling you either of those things, but if I
did, it would hurt your feelings, would it not?"

   "I'd kill any nigger who called my sister a whore!" shouted Nathan,
standing up.

   "Calm down, Nathan," said Flossie, hoping she could pull this off.  "I'm
making a point here.  I'm teaching." She turned back to Bernadette.  "Would
that hurt your feelings?"

   "Of COURSE it would!" the girl gasped.

   "I am a Negro, or colored woman ...  a citizen of the United States of
America," said Flossie.  "My ancestors were slaves, but I am not.  I have a
college education, and I teach children important lessons.  The word
'nigger' is a word just like the word 'whore' - it is intended to make
someone feel bad.  When you call me a nigger, it is like you are calling me
a whore or a slut.  It hurts my feelings, and it hurts the feelings of any
Negro person."

   Bernadette looked shocked.  "But it's just a word!" she said.

   "So is 'whore'," pointed out Flossie.  "I'm just trying to help you
understand how what you say can affect other people."

   "But everybody calls niggers ...  niggers ..." Hilda Mae's voice sounded
puzzled.

   "And everybody calls a whore a whore," said Flossie.  "Some people call
a women a whore when she isn't, though."

   "So are you saying that some niggers are niggers, and others are
Ni-gruhs?" asked Bernadette, pronouncing it the same way her father did. 
"What's the difference?"

   "I'm saying nigger is a word that hurts feelings.  It's a derogative
word that is meant to hurt, just like the word 'whore' is meant to hurt. 
No one uses the word 'whore' and means anything positive by it."

   "Oh," said Hilda Mae.  "I guess that makes sense." She looked puzzled.
"Except that I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings.  I don't really care
what you think."

   The innocent truth of that statement was what Flossie knew went to the
core of racism.  If you didn't care what a person thought, you didn't care
what happened to them either.  And if you didn't care what happened to
them, then your natural sense of right and wrong could get skewed so badly
that you did things that would normally have gone against your conscience.
While Hilda Mae would never think about calling a white friend a whore,
because she would instinctively know that was wrong, because she had never
cared about a black person, it didn't matter what you called one of them.

   Flossie, though, saw the tiny crack she had just caused in the armor
that was wrapped around Hilda Mae's racist upbringing, and went on ahead.

   "And, while we're on the subject," said Flossie, "there are many other
names for people that are meant to hurt.  Has anyone ever called you a
cracker?"

   "Not to my face," snorted Nathan, like he was miffed at being left out
of the conversation.

   "Well, what I'm telling you is that, if you want to be polite, you just
won't use those kinds of words.  I'm not a coon, or a nigger, or a Sambo.
I'm a Negro, or a colored person.  And it's Nee-Grow, not Nye-Gruh, by the
way."

   "That's what Daddy calls them ...  you," said Bernadette.

   "Your father doesn't like Negroes, does he?" asked Flossie.

   "No," said Bernadette easily.  "He says they're lazy and stupid and we
ought to send them all back to Africa, where they came from."

   "That's a discussion for another day," sighed Flossie.  "For now, let's
just say this.  You know that saying 'ain't' isn't correct English, right?"

   "Yes," admitted Bernadette.  "Mamma yells at us all the time for saying
that.  She says it makes us sound common."

   "OK, just like 'ain't' is a corruption of 'am not' or 'is not', 'Nigruh'
is a corruption of 'Negro'.  It isn't polite, and it makes the user sound
...  common."

   Both girls looked pale at the thought that anyone, at least outside
their family, might think they sounded ...  common.

   "So, what I intend to do, is teach you to speak properly, so you'll
never sound common in your whole life.  Isn't that something you'd like to
learn?"

   Both girls nodded, almost reluctantly.  Nathan wasn't impressed, though.
He snorted.

   "And YOU, young man, are going to learn to read as well or better than
Curtis Lee," said Flossie, reminding him that he fared very badly when
compared to the performance of someone he called a nigger.

   Before Nathan could explode, though, Bernadette sat up straight and she
looked at Curtis Lee.

   "How DID you learn to read so good?"

   "Well." prompted Flossie.

   "So WELL!" said an exasperated Bernadette.

   "I just practiced," said the boy quietly.  "At first I read out loud
because it was easier to say the words.  After a while I didn't do that any
more.  And then, when Miss Flossie was teaching reading to the little ones,
I helped, and started reading out loud again."

   "So if I practice ...  I can read as good ...  I mean well," she shot a
look at Flossie, who grinned.  "...  as you do?" she finished.

   "I don't see why not.  You read pretty well already," said Curtis Lee.

   "Nathan will never read well," snorted Hilda Mae.  "He's too lazy and
stupid.  Pappa even told him so last night." She jumped to avoid the blow
she knew was coming from her brother, and put a desk between him and her.

   "He did NOT!" shouted Nathan.

   "He did SO!" shouted Hilda Mae right back.  "You told him you wanted to
be a doctor at supper last night and he said you were too lazy and stupid
to ever do that!"

   "Your father is mixed up about several things, I imagine," said Flossie,
interrupting the argument.

   Nathan turned on her.  "My Daddy is NOT mixed up about anything!"

   "So," said Flossie quietly.  "He thinks niggers are lazy and stupid ...
and he called you lazy and stupid ..." She didn't have to finish.  Nathan's
face became pale as shock gripped him.

   "I suspect you're neither lazy nor stupid, Nathan," said Flossie,
standing up.  "You just haven't been taught well, or maybe you decided not
to pay attention in school.  Either of those problems can be solved easily.
If you want to be a doctor, you just have to decide to be a doctor, and
then work toward that goal.  There's no reason in the world you can't be a
doctor, if that's what you want to do."

   For the first time Nathan was speechless.  Annie, his old nanny, had
been another black woman who had sympathized with him when his father
shouted at him when he was younger.  He tried everything to win his
father's approval, but nothing worked.  Annie had held him as he cried into
her ample bosom, telling him that he was a fine young man, and would grow
up to do wonderful things.  It occurred to him now that here was another
hated nigger, who was doing close to the same thing, and that no white
woman had ever said he'd amount to a hill of beans.

   Nathan underwent a strange ...  almost bizarre, if admitedly
microscopic, transformation in those few seconds.  He remembered Annie's
comforting arms, and the softness of her bosom as he cried into it.  He had
hated her for seeing him cry, but she had always been there for him. 
Later, he had let her cuddle him just because it felt good sometimes.  He
had loved to press his face to the softness of her bosom.  His eyes went to
Flossie, and for the first time he looked at her as a woman, and not just
another nigger.  She was short and slim, and her breasts didn't push her
dress out like Annie's had.  Still, she was nice to him.  He was old enough
to know exactly what the word 'nigger' was used for.  He used it
intentionally, specifically to cause hurt.  Yet, this woman was still civil
to him, and not because she had to be.  His father had already announced
his intention to have her replaced, and his father always got what he
wanted.  His father was a powerful man, with the purse strings of the whole
town firmly in his grasp.  With something akin to horror, Nathan Wilson
realized that this woman, and Annie before her, treated him better than his
mother and father ever had.

   It was an epiphany that would cause him many sleepless nights in the
months to come.  It would also redirect the anger he nurtured inside him
... anger that now would be less and less directed at those of lower
station in life than his own, and more and more at those with power, who
tried to deny him a share of that power.

   Chapter 3

   The next few weeks went better than Flossie would have hoped, had she
any hopes at all.  She had been around enough racist white people (and
black people too, for that matter) that she believed racism was a disease
that ran too deep to be "cured" in anything less than generations.  And,
her teaching methods did not change.  Harvey Wilson might eventually get
what he wanted, but she was quite sure that, without a new building, and
more affluent students, the possibility of them luring a white teacher to
this small town was non-existent.  And it would take time for Harvey
Wilson, or anybody else, to convince anyone that a new building was worth
the expense.

   It did, in fact, take Harvey two more years to drive through agreement
that a new school was needed.  By that time, though, his interest had waned
somewhat, since, by the time it would actually be built, his own children
wouldn't ever see the inside of it.

   But that's for later in the story.  Right now, you want to know what
happened during those two years.

   =======================================

   That night, when Flossie got home, she wrote a letter to her uncle.  She
explained the situation, and asked him if there were any documents or other
proof he could send her that would establish, beyond doubt, that he had
been a fighter pilot in the war.

   ========================================

   Flossie's plan to educate the Wilson children wasn't really any more
radical than what she had planned for the education of all her students. 
She used her copy of the text book written by Henry Baker to identify a
number of Colored people who invented many of the things that almost
everyone used in some situations, and which had made striking differences
to the way farming was done in Calloway County.

   The next bit of what would someday be called "Black History" was about
George Washington Carver.  There was a grainy old-time photograph of him in
the book too, and she showed it to the class, listing how, as an
agricultural chemist, he discovered three hundred uses for peanuts and
hundreds more uses for soybeans, pecans and sweet potatoes.  Among the
listed items that he suggested to southern farmers to help them
economically were his recipes and improvements to or for: adhesives, axle
grease, bleach, buttermilk, chili sauce, fuel briquettes, ink, instant
coffee, linoleum, mayonnaise, meat tenderizer, metal polish, paper,
plastic, pavement, shaving cream, shoe polish, synthetic rubber, talcum
powder and wood stain.

   This time, all three Wilson children participated in looking at the
book, running down the list of the man's inventions as if they didn't quite
believe what they were hearing.  Seeing has a strong impact on believing.

   There was discussion between all the students on how these things had
affected their own lives, and the lives of the farmers throughout America,
and not just in the South.  Flossie capped it off by announcing that, On
July 14, 1943, U.S.  President Franklin Delano Roosevelt honored Carver
with a national monument dedicated to his accomplishments, and that Carver
was offered an annual salary of $100,000.00 to work for a white-owned
company, making him the highest paid Negro in America up to that time.

   "A hundred THOUSAND dollars!" sighed Bernadette.  "I can't even IMAGINE
that much money in the whole world.  I heard my Pappa talking about a loan
he approved - it was to build a whole new house - and it was only for
twenty-five HUNDRED dollars!"

   Then Flossie switched into a math session, where the children had to
cipher out how many houses could be built with a hundred thousand dollars,
and how many mules, or cars could be bought with that kind of money.  Soon
the children were squealing as they thought up other products, most of
which cost less than a dollar, which made the quantities seem astronomical
to them.

   =======================================

   The next day, when Nathan trooped into the room, his face was tense.

   "Daddy wants to talk to you," he said to Flossie.  "He said to tell you
to get your nigger ass out there, because he ain't ...  I mean isn't coming
in here."

   "All right," said Flossie.

   She went out, passing a subdued Bernadette and Hilda Mae, who looked
almost frightened.  She walked around to the driver's door of the station
wagon, to find Harvey Wilson scowling at her through the open window.

   "What's all this horse shit about some nigger making a hundred grand a
year?" he snarled.

   "We talked about George Washington Carver yesterday," said Flossie
simply.  She noticed that Luthor, Johnnie Sue and Jesse were approaching
the school house together, and had stopped to listen to the exchange.

   "I don't need my children asking me questions like how much money I make
in a year, just to have them tell me some Northern nigger makes ten times
as much.  You stop filling their heads with hogwash, you hear me?!  I will
NOT have some nigger whore telling my God damned children that their God
damned flesh and blood CAN'T DO BETTER FOR HIS GOD DAMNED FAMILY THAN SOME
UPPITY COON WHO TAKES CREDIT FOR SOMETHING HE PROBABLY DIDN'T INVENT
NOHOW!" He finished with a scream that left his lips actually flecked with
spittle.

   Flossie turned on her heel and walked around the front of the car,
wondering if he would run her down or not.  She walked stiffly back into
the building as dirt and gravel sprayed in a half circle that peppered her
back, and the front of the school house.

   When she got inside, the three Wilson children were standing in a line.
They looked anxious.

   Bernadette's voice was shaky as she spoke.  "We were just talking at
supper, and Hilda Mae asked him what his salary is.  Then he wanted to know
why she wanted to know and when he found out he just got crazy!  He sent us
all to bed right then and there!  He was yelling at Mamma about how he was
going to get rid of you if it's the last thing he ever does.  We were
afraid he was going to kill you out there!"

   "Well, he didn't," said Flossie stiffly.

   "He said it ain't right for a ni ...  I mean for that George Washington
man to make that much more than a white man," said Nathan.

   "Each person has worth to his fellow man," said Flossie, as Johnnie Sue
and the two boys came in the door.  "In some cases that worth is more
highly valued than in others.  That's why you want to become the best
person you possibly can, so you are worth more to other people, and they'll
reward you for that."

   "I've never seen him that mad before," said Bernadette.  "You'd better
be careful."

   "I know," sighed Flossie.  "I know."

   ========================================

   That night, a skunk somehow found its way into the Wilson household in
the middle of the night, while the family was sleeping.  The odor woke them
all, and they all got out of bed to investigate.  The animal was found in
the kitchen, where it was going through the overturned trash can.

   Harvey Wilson got a direct shot, some of which got in his eyes.

   ========================================

   The next morning, Luthor, Jesse and Johnnie Sue were at school when
Flossie arrived herself.  They looked so freshly scrubbed that Flossie
noticed it.  As she approached, she got a whiff of skunk odor.

   "Don't you three know enough by now to stay away from a skunk?" she
asked, laughing.

   "What skunk?" asked Johnnie Sue, looking around as if there might be a
skunk in sight.

   "What have you been up to?" asked their teacher, sensing immediately
that there was mischief afoot.

   "Must have been a skunk that went through some of the grass we walked
through," said Luthor.  "I thought I smelled skunk somewhere back there."

   They all turned to see the Wilson station wagon edging down the dirt
path that led to the school house.  Today their mother was driving.  When
the car stopped, and the Wilson children climbed out, she got out and stood
by her door.

   "We had a little trouble last night," she called out, stiffly.  "I did
everything I could, but I don't think it did any good.  I'm sending the
children to school anyway.  You'll just have to live with the smell.  Lord
knows we had to live with it all night."

   Then she got back in the car and drove away.

   The smell of skunk coming from Nathan, Bernadette and Hilda Mae was
overpowering.  Their eyes were still red from running almost constantly. 
They stood in a morose little group, heads hanging.

   "A skunk got in the house," said Nathan.  "Daddy had to get the doctor
out of bed because he was blinded.  We didn't get no sleep at all last
night."

   "Didn't get any," corrected Flossie automatically.  Her eyes went to
find Johnnie Sue and the two boys, but they were gone ...  vanished as if
they had never been standing there only moments before.  She frowned on the
outside, but was grinning on the inside.  Still, she'd have a word with the
three in private.  What they had done was undoubtedly a great adventure for
them, but it could be very dangerous too.

   It was then that she realized all THREE of them had smelled of skunk,
and that Jesse must have been involved too.  Her heart shrank as she
thought about what would happen if he got caught doing something like that
to a white family.  She couldn't wait until later.

   She handled it by announcing that they would have class outside that
day, where the wind would help.  She ordered Johnnie Sue, Jesse and Luthor
to stay inside and "help her get ready." As soon as the Wilson children had
gone outside, she lit into the three best friends with a hushed vengeance.
When they started carrying desks outside, the two white children were as
pale as ghosts, and Jesse looked almost gray.

   ====================================

   Flossie saved L.  Frank Baum's book for the afternoons, when she worked
primarily on diction, and language skills.  Curtis Lee might as well have
been her teacher's aide, had there been such a thing back then.  His
reading and language skills so outclassed those of the Wilson children that
it was plain, even to them, that his level of intelligence was beyond
anything they'd ever seen in a boy his age, white OR black.

   Flossie didn't make any assault on the vernacular they used that first
year she taught them.  Just getting them to practice good enunciation and
expand their vocabulary was sufficient for her.  Slowly ...  very slowly
... the Wilson children lost the knife-edged unrelenting hatred for those
that they could no longer deny had talents of one kind or another.  There
was no friendship extended, to be sure, and their attitude of superiority
accounted for other "accidents" that seemed to happen around the Wilson
home, or to their property, but nothing could be traced to any intentional
act by someone outside the household.  Flossie inquired of Johnnie Sue,
Luthor and Jesse, but they swore they had given up after her lecture.  It
was quite possible there were other people in town unhappy with Harvey
Wilson.  Bankers were never easy to like, it seemed.

   Sadly, perhaps the brightest spot of that first year was that the Wilson
Children intentionally quit talking, at home, about what they learned in
school.  When they got questions like "What else has that damn nigger
teacher taught you that I have to unlearn you about?" they simply looked at
their father with bland faces and said they studied math, or reading. 
Their father tested them, making them read out loud from the Bible, and do
numbers long hand in front of him.  And, though he was actually impressed
with the advancement of his children, he never uttered a word of
encouragement to them.  The only reason they even knew they were doing well
was when he presented them with the kind of math that was done in the bank.

   "Harvey Wilson!" his wife scolded him.  "You know well and good that
these children can't do that kind of ciphering!  They're doing quite well
and you know it.  You're just itching for a reason to get that woman
fired."

   In fact, Bernadette thought she might be able to figure out how to do
the math, which involved interest percentages.  But she never got the
chance.  Her father gave out a snort and snatched the paper from in front
of her.

   "Of course they can't do proper math," he snarled.  "They're too stupid
from being schooled by a nigger!"

   When, the next day, Bernadette wrote the problem she remembered seeing
at home, on the board, and asked if she could try to solve it, Flossie was
delighted, and gave her free rein.  She had to correct the decimal point in
two places, but otherwise the answer was correct.  Bernadette glowed, and
sat back down smiling.

   There were tight, tiny smiles on the faces of her brother and sister as
well.

   =======================================

   That began a process that was built in fits and starts.  Flossie was
able to go much deeper into math with the Wilson children, and Curtis Lee,
than she had dreamed of.  The younger students weren't interested, so that
extended learning happened in the afternoons.

   But the success of the older students in understanding the concepts led
to requests on their part for other deeper learning.  The Wilson children
became expert at asking just enough at home, about this or that field of
knowledge, to get either a partial answer from one or the other of their
parents, or a statement that the answer to the question wasn't important.
The latter comment soon became a clear indicator that the adult asked
didn't know the answer, and the children took delight in then getting the
information at school.

   Children, at least those in their teens, have always thought their
parents were clueless about most things.  Harvey Wilson's stubborn pride,
and his wife's meekness ...  unwillingness to give an answer that her
husband didn't know (or, heaven forbid, correct him in front of the
children,) just nurtured that belief on the part of his offspring.

   They never let on that they were becoming much better educated than
their father was.  He would snarl, "Ask your nigger teacher!" and then,
later question them on what she had said.  Their answers always seemed to
come back to "I still don't know, so I guess it's not important," and that
fed his own feeling of superiority.

   Teens, everywhere, have always seemed to have some special desire to
make their parents' lives a living Hell, if they can do so without getting
in trouble for it.  The Wilson children chose to remind their parents often
that, in Catfish Hollow, there was nothing for them to do, and no one of
their station to visit.  Picking at the sore wound that was Harvey's fate
made them feel better, even though, in their own minds, they didn't
actually lack for much.  Now that "Miss Flossie" as they had taken to
calling her privately, had widened their horizons, and they could all read
much better, they almost always had a book hidden away that they could
crack open and while away the hours with.

   The upshot was that, unconsciously, the children knew that their teacher
was also better educated than their father and mother.  The fact that she
was more than willing to give them the knowledge drew them closer to her.

   And, every time Harvey got on his soap box about how the town needed a
new school, and a decent teacher, he got stony faced silence.  As far as
the rest of the men in the town felt, he already had all their money in his
damn bank ...  and now he wanted them to cough up more just so his little
darlings could have a nice building to fritter away their day in?

   As far as lessons in English went, as it turned out, the Wilson children
usually knew the proper usage of a word, but just spoke in the same
vernacular of their parents, or other relatives.  That caused some
discussion about appropriate language.

   "You need to know how to speak in different settings," explained
Flossie. "When you're home, you use one kind of language, but if you're in
another setting, you need to be able to speak THAT language, to fit into
That environment."

   "But it's all just English," complained Bernadette.

   "Actually, it's different dialects of the same language," said Flossie.
She dropped into the vernacular that older Negroes often used when they
were alone.  "I's fixun to mebbe go fishin', boss." she drawled.  Then she
switched to a high-pitched voice with inflections so typically Southern
white male that the children stared at her.  "I cain't unnerstand what all
them niggers air talkin' bout." She went right on to sound like a typical
white woman in those parts.  "You know, Ah do declare, it's just SWELTERING
in here!  Ah'd just give about any-thin for a breath of cool air!" Not
stopping there she changed her voice to a dry, clipped diction that all the
children recognized as Yankee.  "Well, the fact of the matter is, that not
a single one of those relapsed Confederates south of the Mason Dixon Line
can speak a word of proper English!"

   She stopped to see what the reaction was.

   "I understood everything you said," said Hilda Mae.  "And you used that
word, too, by the way!" She raised her chin.  "That word you said was a
hurtful word."

   "It's a word people use," said Flossie.  "It's a hurtful word, but I'm
sure you'll hear that word used many many times in your life.  The point is
that, depending on who you're with, you may want to be able to change the
way you speak so that you fit in better.  That Means you need to study
language in all of its aspects, and be aware of how you, and others around
you, are speaking.

   "There was this man," said Nathan.  "He came to our house selling
brushes and all sorts of things.  He was from someplace up North.  I
remember I couldn't hardly understand a word he said.  Mamma wouldn't even
let him in the house."

   "It's very uncomfortable when you're around people who speak differently
than you do," said Flossie nodding.  "It can be frustrating too.  That man
would sell a lot more brushes if he learned to speak like the customers he
was talking to."

   She got a nod from Nathan, which, to Flossie, seemed like a real
accomplishment.

   "If you never leave Catfish Hollow, you could speak like you do now for
the rest of your lives," said Flossie.  "But, if you're going to see the
world, or look for a job somewhere else, it will pay you to learn how to
speak properly so that people don't stare at you, or make fun of you."

   "I'd just die if I had to stay in Catfish Hollow for the rest of my
life," said Hilda Mae, looking forlorn.  "But darned if I know what I could
do anyplace else."

   ==========================================

   There was one incident, that year, that resulted in intense excitement.
When Flossie had written to her uncle, Daniel Pendergast, and had told him
about Nathan's reaction to her re-telling of his exploits in the war, she
had asked him to send pictures, or some other kind of evidence she could
use to convince the white students that a Negro could fly.  He did her one
better.

   Daniel, after the war, wanted to keep flying.  He could find no job as a
pilot, since people still wouldn't hire a black man.  But he had made some
white friends in the war, and, together with one of them, they started
their own crop dusting company.  They found an old beat up plane, renovated
it, and went into business.  The white partner was the "face" of the
company, dealing face to face with customers, most of whom were white. 
Daniel flew the plane.  Nobody on the ground knew the difference.  The
business prospered, and they bought more planes.  Eventually, Daniel flew
because he wanted to, and not because he had to.

   When he got Flossie's letter, he simply chose the plane he wanted, got
into it, and flew off.  He had grown up in Catfish Hollow, and gone to the
same school his niece was teaching at, so he knew exactly where he was
going, and exactly what the terrain was like, assuming no major changes had
been made.  He didn't expect any.

   He buzzed the school house, grinning behind his goggles, and then
worried that the air turbulence and vibration of his passage might have
just knocked the building down.  He went into a tight left turn, climbing
steeply and looked down to see the building still standing, and small dots
of people running out of it.  He buzzed them again, this time going well
clear of the structure itself, and coming to within twenty feet of the
ground.  He wagged his wings and went through a series of acrobatics that
were second nature to him now.  He ended up with a few low level barrel
rolls as he flew directly over the heads of the people in the yard.  He had
already noted which direction the dust drifted after one of his low level
stunts kicked some up, so he lined up and landed, rolling to a stop twenty
feet from the cluster of people.

   He hopped out, pulled off his goggles, and strode over to give a
grinning Flossie a hug.

   "How's my favorite niece?" he asked.

   "I'm your only niece," she grinned, slapping his arm.  She turned. 
"Children, I'd like you to meet my uncle, Daniel Pendergast.  I told you
about him during our session on the air war."

   The reaction was all that either Flossie or Daniel could have hoped for.
Nathan was stunned, completely speechless.  When the plane had rocked the
whole school building during that first pass, and dust and plaster had
dropped from the ceiling, accompanied by a roar that shook their bones,
there had been general panic.  Running out into the yard had been
instinctive for all of them.  Then the plane came by again, wind from its
passage washing over all of them, flipping skirts up, making hair fly and
generally scaring the pee out of them.  Shouts of "Who is it?" and "What's
he doing?" rang out.  Then, as the acrobatics commenced, Nathan had uttered
the fateful words.

   "Now THAT'S a pilot!" His eyes had never left the dipping, turning
aircraft as he went on.  "That's the kind of thing no nigger could ever
do!"

   When Jeremiah landed, and got out of the plane, Nathan's world had
fallen apart.

   Flossie didn't rub it in.  She acted, in fact, as if he had never said
anything.

   "Anybody want to take a ride?" asked Jeremiah, grinning.

   For poor children in the South, even getting to SEE an airplane up close
was a treat of the first magnitude.  The thought of getting to be IN one,
and off the ground caused bedlam.

   It wasn't much, in terms of how we'd think about a ride today.  He
packed two or three kids in the extra seat, belting them all together, took
off, flew in circles for a few minutes, and then landed.  When the first
group, which consisted of Curtis Lee, and two eight year olds, got back
safely, and Curtis Lee couldn't wipe the almost painful looking grin off
his face, Bernadette and Hilda Mae insisted on going next.  They went
together and were chattering non-stop upon their return.  Daniel didn't do
anything radical with the kids on board.  He just flew them around for a
bit, banking sharply so they could see the ground.  That was more than
sufficient.  Nathan objected when his sisters went up, but they ignored
him. In the end he and Flossie were the only ones left who hadn't flown.

   "Anybody else?" Jeremiah said, looking around as if there were tens of
others who hadn't gone yet.  All of the children who had already ridden
jumped up and down, their hands in the air, begging to go again.

   "I couldn't leave the children," said Flossie, looking yearningly at the
airplane.

   Curtis Lee stepped forward.  "Ruth Ann and I can watch them," he
offered. "And Nathan too, if he doesn't want to go."

   Curtis Lee's statement could be received in two ways, if someone tried.
It could be received as "Curtis Lee, Ruth Ann and Nathan will watch the
others" or "Curtis Lee and Ruth Ann will watch the others and Nathan".  The
second way, of course, suggested that Nathan needed watching, and that's
how Nathan heard it.

   "I don't need to be took care of by the likes of YOU!" he said angrily.

   "If Nathan wants to go, I'll stay here," said Flossie, ignoring the
outburst.

   "You can go fly in that thing if you want to," said Nathan sulking. 
"I'm staying right here on the ground where it's safe."

   So Flossie got her ride, during which Daniel put the plane through its
paces again, doing barrel rolls as it flashed over the screaming kids. 
Flossie could also be heard, very faintly, screaming at her uncle.  When
they landed, a laughing Daniel had to help her walk because her knees were
so shaky.  As they approached the children, she was heard to say "I need to
change my pants!"

   ============================================

   Something twisted inside of Nathan as the plane rose from the ground,
bumping over the ground of a fallow field next to the school house, and
lifted into the air one last time.  He had wanted badly to get in that
airplane, and see what the world looked like from up there.  His pride had
kept him from it, though, and he was quite aware of that.  As the plane
wagged its wings one last time in farewell, and lifted higher, he wondered
if that pride was worth it.

   About then the constable drove up in his battered 1938 Chevrolet.  He
got out, hat firmly on his head, and waddled over to the group.

   "Saw the plane from town," he said shortly.  "Thought there might be
some problem."

   "Not at all," said Flossie, still a little breathless from her ride. 
"The pilot was helping the children understand how airplanes work.  We're
studying flight in school this week."

   She lied right in front of the children.  All of them knew that they
weren't studying flight at all, and never had.  Most of the children knew
why she lied.  If the townspeople found out she had let the children go up
with a Negro pilot, all Hell would break loose.  It wouldn't matter that
everyone had gotten back safely.  All that would matter was that the pilot
was a nigger.

   "Quite some pilot," commented the constable.

   "Yes," said Flossie as if everything were completely normal.  "I met him
while I was in college.  He was nice enough to show the children all about
the plane.  He flew in the war."

   "Thought so," said the constable.  "Flew like my nephew talks about.  He
was a fighter pilot in the war, Harry was.  He might know the feller that
was helping you out.  What's his name?  I could ask Harry."

   "What theater did your nephew fly in?" asked Flossie, instead of
answering the question.

   "Flew Corsairs in the Pacific," said the constable.

   "I don't think this man would know him then," said Flossie calmly.  "He
flew Mustangs in Europe." She turned around.  "Well!  Now that the fun is
over, I 'spect we'd best get back to work!  Inside, children." She turned
to the constable.  "Thank you for your concern.  I'm sure that if there had
been a problem we would have needed you.  It's good to know you are
vigilant as usual."

   The man grinned, hitched up the belt around his waist, upon which hung a
.38 revolver, and actually tipped his hat.  Then he got in his car and
rolled away.  Flossie faced the receding car, waving, until it went out of
sight, while Curtis Lee and Ruth Ann started herding the children back into
the building.  Nathan hung back.

   "Why did you lie to him?" asked Nathan.

   "I lied to him because he's just like you ...  or like you were before
Daniel landed here.  He would never believe that a Negro could fly a plane,
or take the children for a ride safely.  Had I told him the truth, it would
have caused a lot of trouble."

   "Oh," he said, unsure what to say.  He was seeing things from a black
perspective for perhaps the first time in his life.  "I guess so."

   "It would still cause problems if you told your parents about it," said
Flossie, her heart in her mouth.  She went on, despite her nervousness
about taking this chance.  "That would give your father everything he needs
to have me fired."

   Nathan thought about the last few things she had said.  She had just
assumed that he thought about things differently now than he had in the
past.  That was true.  He couldn't deny that.  When he said "no nigger
could fly like that" he was aware that he had used a word that he was
trying to stop using.  Then, when he was too proud and embarrassed to take
a ride, she had gone, even though it was clear the idea frightened her.  He
had heard her screams in the plane ...  heard that she was clearly
terrified ...  yet she had clamped down on that terror, and recuperated
quickly.  She had stood and lied bald faced to the law, which put her in
danger, and had trusted all the students not to betray her.  And they
hadn't.  Not a one.  Not even himself!  Every one of them knew it was wrong
to lie, yet not one of them had said a word to gainsay her.  Yet, she had
lied only as little as she had to.  That too was obvious.  Many of the
things she had said were carefully true.  She had just left out the things
that would cause trouble.  And he knew that he lied sometimes, and that,
when he lied, it was usually for the purpose of staying out of trouble too.
He also thought about how wrong he had been.  Even the constable had seen
how skilled the pilot was.  Nathan Wilson felt something very close to
shame.

   "I won't tell them," he said finally.  "I'll make sure my sisters don't
either."

   "Thank you, Nathan," said Flossie gently.  She didn't remind him that he
owed her an apology.

   Chapter 4

   It would have been natural for the other children to needle Nathan about
his comments about how "niggers couldn't possibly fly a plane".  Flossie
didn't want any of that, so she simply used the whole incident as an
example of how, if you don't have all the facts, you can sometimes come to
a conclusion that is in error.

   "Just because you're wrong about something doesn't mean it's the end of
the world," she said.  "It can cause trouble because you're operating on a
basis that is false, but, if you're willing to learn and change, you can
correct problems like that.  Nathan had an opinion that was in error.  He
has learned some things, and his opinion has changed accordingly.  That's
what education is all about."

   She then went on to name several things that other children had
believed, and which had been proven wrong.  By the time she was done, it
seemed like what Nathan had done was not only ordinary, but not worth
talking about any more either.

   That incident also led to a revival of identifying more black inventors
in class.  The first one popped into her mind as one of the children asked
to use the pencil sharpener.  She explained that a man named John Lee Love,
whose parents had been slaves.  He had improved the common pencil sharpener
by enclosing it so that the shavings didn't drop on the floor.

   The next one came on what Flossie called a field trip.  It was really
just an excuse to get out in the air and get some exercise after a long
session on Government that had been boring to most of the kids.  She took
them on a walk to identify native plants that were good for food and
medicinal uses, and saw a man plowing a field with a mule.

   "See the plow that man is using?" she asked.  "Does anybody know what
it's called?"

   "It's a Beard plow," said Luthor instantly.  "My daddy has one, but we
haven't used it for a couple of years.  He got one that goes on the three
point hitch of the tractor and we use that now."

   Several other students said their parents had a plow like that too, some
of them still in use, like the one they were looking at.

   "It was invented by a man named Andrew Beard, in 1887.  He was born a
slave in Alabama.  He took the money he got from inventing that plow and
put it into real estate.  He owned hundreds of properties, and was a very
rich man."

   Of course she also talked about the inventions of white people, which
weren't hard to come by at all, but in the process also made sure to
emphasize that they came from all different kinds of cultures, whether it
be German, French, Russian or whatever.

   Their study of planting cycles brought out that Benjamin Banneker, a
black man, created the Farmer's Almanac in 1791, and that almost every
farmer, black or white, still used it religiously to this day.

   In studying science, the subject of changes in food came up.  Things had
been canned at home for as long as any of them could remember.  Now,
though, there were new products showing up in the General Store.  Meat in
packages from the store lasted longer before it went bad, and store-bought
ice cream didn't melt quite as quickly as it did when you made it at home.
The addition of chemicals, preservatives and processes to food production
was discussed.

   That gave Flossie an opportunity to talk about advances that women had
made.  She told them that the coffee filter, which was invented in 1908 by
Melitta Bentz, a housewife in Germany.  She invented it because she was
tired of getting grounds in her mouth, that went from the brewing pot to
the cup.

   Hilda Mae commented that, at their house, coffee wasn't brewed at all.
They had a jar of Nescafe in the cupboard, and their mother just added it
to hot water.  Flossie suggested that she should research how instant
coffee was invented, and make a report on that to the class.  Hilda Mae
wrote to the address on the coffee jar in her cabinet, asking for the
information, and learned that Japanese American man named Satori Kato,
invented instant coffee in 1901.  He had noticed that the dregs of a cup of
coffee, when they dried, formed a powder that could be reconstituted into
dark liquid.  Nescafe had invented the freeze drying concept in 1938, and
it was their opinion that one could not tell the difference between a cup
of fresh brewed coffee and their product.  They sent her samples of their
product, and their thanks for her interest.

   That led to an experiment in school.  A fire was built outside, and
coffee was brewed normally.  They didn't have a filter - most people in
those parts didn't spend money on things like that - but Hilda Mae let the
coffee pot sit, and then poured carefully to make sure no grounds got into
the cup.  Another pot had boiling water in it.  She had Flossie help her
add instant coffee to a cup of boiling water until they were about the same
color, and Flossie said they tasted about the same.  Identical cups were
used, and, before they went inside, they changed cups back and forth
several times, in case someone had been peeking through the window to see
which coffee went into which cup.

   Coffee was sipped, and opinions were formed.  Nathan sipped the real
coffee and said "Now THAT is the real McCoy."

   And THAT led to Flossie pulling out her book, and showing the class
information on how a black man named Elijah McCoy, in 1872, invented an
automatic lubricator for steam locomotives that freed the engineer from
having to stop often to squirt or pour oil into the various parts of the
engine.  This was wildly popular with the operators of trains, because it
improved efficiency and made the engines last much longer between rebuilds.
Others tried to invent their own systems, but by 1880, train manufacturers
were inundated with requests for "The Real McCoy" lubricating system.  In
his later life, Elijah McCoy became a consultant to the entire railroad
industry.

   Little by little, the Wilson children were exposed to information that
altered many of the preconceptions they had about race, and gender, and the
worth of people, regardless of both of those descriptions.

   Thus passed the first year of the Wilson children's exposure to the
woman who would change their lives in ways they couldn't comprehend, even
had they tried.

   ========================================

   The summer break between that first and second year was also momentous,
though none of the children in the Catfish Hollow Public School would have
said so.  For most of them, it was a typical summer ...  work hard all day,
and play at night.  For three of them, there was nothing to gauge it by,
and they were more or less miserable.

   Nathan, wanting like any young man to have some money in his pocket,
wanted to get a job.  From his viewpoint, he didn't much care what he did.
From his father's, his choice of employment was critical.

   "Don't you go gettin' no job that trash should do," scowled Harvey, when
Nathan first voiced is desire to enter the work force.

   "In this town?" asked Nathan, his voice high.  "What else will there be
to do?"

   "You don't need a job!" was his father's reply.  "What would you spend
money on anyway?"

   "A car!" said Nathan instantly.  "Maybe a record player."

   The girls approved of that idea, and approved loudly.

   That got his father on another rampage.  Even in the South, the radio
played the Beach Boys, and Elvis Presley and all those other heathens who
got youngsters wagging their asses around like a bitch in heat.  He would
be damned if his "precious babies" would sway their hips like a common
whore, in front of decent people.

   In the end, Harvey pronounced that, if Nathan had someplace to go that
was suitable, and approved by his parents, he could take the station wagon.
There would be no devil rock and roll music brought into the house.

   And Harvey drove the wedge between himself and his children a little
deeper.

   One result of that was that the Wilson children dusted off their
bicycles, which they hadn't ridden for years.  It was a way to get away
from the house, without specifying a particular place they were going. 
Riding bikes was accepted by their parents as a healthy pursuit.  They
didn't think about the fact that it also gave their children freedom to
engage in other pursuits.

   The other thing that happened, was of a much less violent nature, though
its effects would be felt by the children for the rest of their lives.

   Bernadette, while wandering through the small town library, picked up a
copy of a Nancy Drew mystery, titled "The Mystery at the Moss-Covered
Mansion." She was first drawn to it because of the picture on the faded
hard-back cover.

   The old woman who ran the library in the parlor of her house, looked up
from the needle work she was doing.

   "That's a good one," she commented.  "I've got some more around here
somewhere.  Got 'em in a box that was donated from up Wilksburg way."

   "Donated?" asked Bernadette.

   "Yup, that Curtis Lee boy ast me one time where books go when nobody
wants 'em any more.  I laughed, 'course, cause I ain't never throw'd a book
out.  But it got me to wund'rin, so I called up to the librarian up in
Wilksburg, and ast her what they do when a book is wore out.  Durned if she
didn't say they thow 'em away!  So I ast her if she'd start thowin' 'em
away in our direction.  I get a box full once or twice a year.  They was a
bunch of them Nancy Drew books in one of 'em.  They's seen better days, but
they's mighty nice stories, and pop'lar with young'uns like you."

   So Bernadette checked the book out and took it home.

   She was enthralled.

   She was so enthralled that she didn't respond when her sister came to
the bedroom door and told her it was supper time.  When Hilda Mae had to
come back again, she was naturally curious about what was so fascinating.
When Bernadette finished the book that very night, she was so effusive in
her description of the story that Hilda Mae started reading it in the
morning.

   Both of them visited Miz Hopkins' library that afternoon, to return "The
Mystery at the Moss-Covered Mansion," and to get their hands on any other
Nancy Drew mysteries she had.

   There were, as it turned out, seven tattered books in Miz Hopkins'
collection, some of them printed clear back in the 1930s.  All had hard
backs, though, and other than having been handled by countless hands, and
having loose bindings, they were imminently readable.

   The girls checked out all seven.  The titles, for the most part, don't
matter to the telling of this story, but two of them would have a far
reaching impact on the sisters, and others in this story.  Those were "The
Secret in the Old Attic", where Nancy searched a cluttered attic in a
rundown mansion for valuable musical manuscripts, and the other was "The
Hidden Staircase", in which Nancy strives to find the "ghost" who is trying
to drive the Turnbull sisters out of their mansion, and finds a hidden
staircase.

   Why it mattered was because three of the stories that had inflamed the
imaginations of the Wilson sisters had to do with old, run-down mansions.

   And the town of Catfish Hollow had its own mysterious mansion.

   They found that out when they ran into Curtis Lee at Miz Hopkins'
library when they were returning some of the books.  They hadn't seen
Curtis Lee since school let out, of course, and seeing the boy who had, in
some small way, opened their eyes to Nancy Drew caused what could only be
called, these days, as a feeling of friendship.  It was a decidedly odd
feeling for both girls ...  to be ...  happy ...  to see a Negro.

   But, being young and full of excitement about their newfound hobby they
chattered to him about the books, and Curtis Lee told them about the
mansion.

   "Now don't you go fillin' the heads of those precious girls with all
that nonsense," drawled Miz Hopkins.  "That old place is a-fallin' down,
and all that fiddle about ghosts is just horse pucky!"

   "Ghosts?!" squealed both girls together.

   The only way they could get any more information was to take Curtis Lee
somewhere else.  That presented a problem.  No self-respecting white girl
would walk down the street in the company of a Colored boy, much less beg
him for information.

   And THAT led to their first secret meeting with a boy of the Negroid
race.

   To be truthful, both girls felt like they were amateur sleuths
themselves, whispering to Curtis Lee that they had to talk to him, and then
ordering him to identify someplace where they could meet in private. 
Curtis Lee, painfully aware of the danger he could be placed in, said the
first thing that came to his mind.

   "The school house," he said.

   "Now how in tarnation are we going to get all the way out there?" asked
Bernadette in an exasperated voice.

   "It's only a couple of miles," he said softly.  "Walk."

   The assignation was arranged, but the girls weren't willing to walk to
get there.  Truth be told, their bicycles would have solved that problem,
but there was also a reluctance to meet a Negro boy alone.

   So they decided to enlist their brother to borrow the car and take them.
While neither of them had any particular fears concerning Curtis Lee, now
that they had been around him so much, they just felt better knowing that
Nathan would be along.

   Truth still being told, there was another reason they wanted their
brother along.  Nancy Drew had Ned Nickerson to go with her sometimes, and
while Nathan was a far cry from Ned, he was at least a male.  It was part
of their fantasy that an older boy would accompany them, watch out for them
and be at their beck and call.

   Getting Nathan to go along with the plan was easier than either of them
had dreamed.  Nathan wasn't caught up in a summer long romance with Nancy
Drew and her pals.  Nathan was bored.  And getting the chance to drive was
all he needed.  Of course they couldn't explain where they were actually
going, but when the girls told their mother they wanted to gather some wild
flowers from "out in the country", to press in their Bibles, they appealed
to exactly the thing Marian had been hoping to see - some genteel notion of
beauty and poetry in her daughters.

   When it was discussed at supper that night, and Harvey's expected
objections to "an outing" were voiced, his wife reminded him that he had
promised Nathan could practice driving, and that the girls could have a
proper picnic along the way.

   "Besides," she muttered.  "With the girls along he won't be able to
drive all wild and crazy." She turned to the girls.  "You'll tattle on him
if he does, right?"

   Both girls grinned and curls flew everywhere as their heads nodded
energetically.

   The three of them walked down to the bank the next morning, picnic
basket in hand, and Nathan went in to get the keys to the station wagon.

   His father ignored him for as long as he could, obviously dragging out a
conversation with a farmer who had come, hat in hand, trying to get money
to try that new pesticide stuff that was being raved about so much.

   "I'll check into it, neighbor," beamed Harvey finally, when it was
obvious the man wanted to leave.  "Check back with me in a day or two.  I
should know something about the risks and benefits by then."

   He scowled at Nathan, dragging the keys out of his pocket.

   "Don't you go spinnin' the tires!" he barked.  "That ve-hicle is the
only one we got, and I won't have you tearin' it up!"

   "I'm just practicing driving, Daddy," whined Nathan, his eyes glued to
the keys.  "I'll be careful."

   "An' I'd better not have to walk home," growled Harvey.  "It wouldn't be
seemly for the town banker to be walkin' home."

   "We'll be back in plenty of time," promised Nathan.  "You can drive
yourself home just like always."

   "Just see to it!" the man said sternly.

   Harvey winced and almost ran outside when he heard the grinding of
gears, and the car starting up again after stalling.  But another customer
came in and grabbed his elbow, anxious to talk about a late loan payment.
He stared out the window with dismay on his face as the station wagon got
moving and weaved slightly down the street.

   =======================================

   For the Wilson children, it was an adventure of the greatest magnitude.
The girls squealed and rolled down all the windows, hopping around in the
back seat, while Nathan, grim faced and embarrassed, at first, slowly got
more confidence and eventually grinned inanely.  The drive to the school
was short ...  so short that Nathan had only gotten a taste and didn't want
to stop to listen to his sisters jaw on about some books they had read. 
They hadn't told him about a mansion or ghosts, thinking he'd laugh at
them. They had only told him that Curtis Lee was going to help them with
some reading.  By now, the thought of Curtis Lee helping them with reading
didn't seem odd to him at all.  And he knew that both of them had had their
noses pasted inside one book or another for the last two weeks.  Their
sighs and moans of excitement while reading those books had ...  almost ...
caused him to inquire as to what was so interesting.  But he was the older
brother, and whatever interested his baby sisters was surely nothing he'd
be interested in.

   "I'm gonna drop you off and keep practicin'," he announced as he pulled
up in front of the school.

   "NO!  You can't!" cried Bernadette.  "We can't go in there and be alone
with Curtis Lee!"

   "Why not?" asked Nathan, looking into the rear view mirror at them.  He
had no fears about Curtis Lee any longer either.

   "Cause we're gonna talk about a haunted mansion!" squealed Hilda Mae.

   Bernadette slapped at her sister's arm, which Nathan saw in the mirror.
That caused him to turn around and demand to know more.  In the end, he
went in with them.  His boredom played no little part in that too.

   The girls weren't the only ones who brought somebody else with them in
the interests of security, or peace of mind.  Curtis Lee was aware, despite
the Wilson children's general softening attitude toward coloed folk, that
meeting the girls alone could be a recipe for disaster.  His reinforcements
were in the persons of Luthor, Johnnie Sue and Moses Finshaw, a quiet
fifteen year old black boy in their class.

   Jesse couldn't convince his father to let him have a day off to "go
gallivanting around".  Moses' parents thought he was off fishing.  Luthor
had used the same excuse, and Johnnie Sue had invented an invitation to the
Wilson house.  Her mother was more astonished than she let on, and elated
that her tomboy daughter was finally showing an interest in the company of
other girls, not to mention that the girls in question had such high
station.  Johnnie Sue also promised to pick up some thread at the store for
her mother while she was in town.

   So it was that there was a 'reunion' of sorts, involving all the oldest
children in the class, with the exception of Jesse.  That there was an
almost immediate confrontational atmosphere didn't seem strange at all. 
The Wilson children were still considered outsiders, (uppity too, in
private) and they hadn't seen any of their classmates for over a month.

   "How come all of them are here?" Nathan asked Curtis Lee, his jaw
jutting slightly as he pointed to the other three.

   Curtis Lee felt anger begin to seep into him, and instead of answering
he faced the girls and said "Why'd you bring him?"

   "He drove us here," explained Bernadette.

   "Well it about scared the poop out of us!" said Johnnie Sue explosively.
"When we saw that car coming into the yard we thought it was your Daddy and
about died!"

   Nathan, being reminded that he wasn't out driving the car, got
impatient.

   "What's all this about ghosts?" he demanded.

   For the telling of this story, I'll skip over all the part where the
Wilson girls, intermixed with commentary by Curtis Lee, told the story of
why they were all there.  They all knew why they were there, but when a
bunch of teenagers get together there has to be a lot of unnecessary talk
for some reason.  Once the preliminaries were out of the way, it still took
an hour for the four relatively long-time residents of the town to cobble
together the story of the mansion.  That was because adults didn't talk to
children about the mansion.  They simply forbade them to go near it.  So,
the information that each person had was only what had been gleaned from
overhearing the adults talk about the place to each other.

   The kids had, of course, compared notes to some degree, but for the most
part the house, and what it had been, was more or less ignored by everyone
in those parts.

   The structure that had brought all these young people together on this
day, defying social norm by a mixed-race meeting when it wasn't required,
didn't even have a name.  At least none that any of the kids had ever
heard. It was an old plantation house, built before the "unsettling
conflict" and which had been partially destroyed in that same war.  It was
a two story structure, classically antebellum, with four tall columns
supporting the front overhanging balcony.  An attempt by Union soldiers to
burn it had fizzled when they had to leave before the job was fully done.
One corner of the house had been virtually destroyed, though.  The master
of the house was reputed to have put up a stirring defense, but was killed.
No one knew quite what had happened to the womenfolk, but there were dark
stories about how the slaves were freed by the Yankees, but did not leave
for some time.  Those dark stories were of murder and rape, and were
responsible for the additional belief that the ghosts of the victims still
resided in the house.

   That was the information imparted to the Wilson children on that summer
morning.  There was more that they were not aware of, and that might have
tempered the subsequent decisions that were made that morning.

   In fact, the surviving family members of the owner of the plantation had
already fled when the Union soldiers arrived and killed the plantation
owner when he fired upon them.  They planned on taking what they needed
from the place, and moving on, but when fired upon, they retaliated.  Once
they had killed the owner, and told the cowering slaves they were free to
go, they did take what they needed, set fire to the house, and rode off to
seek more men to do battle with.  The slaves, having no idea what to do,
hung around for days.  They even kept tending the fields for a while. 
Slowly, the bolder ones drifted away in small groups.  It took longer for
the more timid to believe they could strike out on their own.  None of them
entered the mansion, or took anything, because they were quite sure they'd
be killed immediately if found in possession of the master's belongings.

   More troops, from both sides, passed by the wreck, and were not so timid
about taking what they wanted.  Much of the furniture was used in cook
fires.  By the war's end, the place was a wreck and the fields overgrown.
Those fields were 'annexed' by the farmers who neighbored them, and it was
in those farmers' best interests that the owners never re-appear.  Nor was
it desired that outsiders have much interest in the property.  Thus began
the rumors that spirits with foul moods inhabited the structure.  More
parts of it were removed, including the slave quarters in total, as well as
all other outbuildings, to facilitate the rebuilding of other homes in the
area.  Eventually all that was left was the falling down mansion house,
surrounded by weeds and trees, a small ecosystem surrounded by fields. 
Eventually, property rights were re-established, and the small plot of land
that nobody could show claim to was taken over by the county.  Because
there was no available tillable land around it, and no real way to get to
it, and because the cost of clearing the land was more than any of the
neighboring farmers was willing (or able) to expend, it lay in the county
records until it was forgotten.  There was almost nothing of value left in
the place.

   But, as was said, the children didn't know those parts of the story. 
All they knew was that the war had emptied the place, and that people had
died violent deaths there, and that strange lights and eerie sounds came
from its haunted shell.

   The Wilson girls, of course, having just read several stories about old
mansions, and the amazing and valuable things that could be found in them,
let their imaginations run free.

   "We have to GO there!" said Hilda Mae excitedly.

   "Nobody goes there," said Moses, wide-eyed.

   "Why would you even WANT to go there?" asked Curtis Lee.

   That led to a discussion about Nancy Drew, and another hour was taken up
as the tales were retold.

   "Who KNOWS what kind of treasure could be hidden in that place?" asked
Bernadette, almost panting with excitement.

   "There's nothing there," said Johnnie Sue, her voice soft.  She looked
startled that she'd spoken, and Luthor elbowed her.

   "What do you mean?  How do you know?" asked Hilda Mae.

   Johnnie Sue and Luthor were exchanging dark looks.

   "We might as well tell them!" said Johnnie Sue.

   "We swore we would never tell ANYBODY!" came back Luthor.

   "Tell us WHAT?" came several voices.

   Luthor looked around and gave a ferocious frown.

   "Oh, go ahead then!  You already opened up your big mouth!" he said to
Johnnie Sue.

   The girl beamed.  "We WENT there one time!" she said excitedly.  "I even
went inside!"

   She got round-eyed looks from everyone except Luthor.

   "It was on a dare!" she went on animatedly.  "Jesse dared me to go in
there and I did it!"

   "Jesse?" asked Curtis Lee instantly.

   "Jimminy CRICKET, Johnnie Sue!" exploded Luthor.  "Have you lost your
MIND?"

   Johnnie Sue looked pale as she stared around the circle of faces ... 
staring back at her.

   "Um ...  we were going somewhere one day," she said, her eyes darting
around.  "and we went by there.  That's all."

   "Where would you and Luthor and Jesse be going to that's way out there?"
asked Moses.

   "Don't you want to know what it was like inside that house?" asked
Johnnie Sue, desperately trying to change the subject.

   "I want to know what you were doing way out there together!" said Curtis
Lee heavily.

   Something in Johnnie Sue snapped.  Fire came into her eyes.  Luthor knew
her as well as any brother would know his sister by now, and he groaned as
she took a breath.'

   "We were out there together because we're FRIENDS!" she shouted.  "We do
all KINDS of things together because we LIKE each other!  And we went there
to have an ADVENTURE!  And Jesse dared me to go inside and I DID IT.  NOW
WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT!?" She ended up yelling.

   "You're friends with a nigger?" asked Nathan, his voice shaky.

   "HE'S NOT A NIGGER YOU STUFF SHIRTED CRACKER!" screamed Johnnie Sue. 
"HE'S A BOY, AND HE'S NICE AND HE CAN CLIMB A TREE QUICKER THAN ANYBODY I
KNOW AND I DON'T CARE IF THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD KNOWS HE'S MY FRIEND!" She
had screamed so long and so loud that her voice cracked at the end.

   ========================================

   There is an intricate and complicated social organization among
teenagers, something they don't really understand, and which adults don't
think about all that much.  It isn't so much like layers of onion skin, as
it is like spaghetti, with different strands of consciousness passing by
others, sometimes touching, and affecting each other in small degrees. 
Part of that phenomenon involves a teen standing up for something he or she
believes in.  That is powerfully recognized by other teens.  Especially
when what she believe in flies in the face of social norm.  That 'renegade'
aspect in teenagers is quite commonly seen by adults as something
undesirable.  But it can often appeal quite strongly to other teens,
especially when, in their own eyes, following the 'norm' isn't all that
appealing.

   For Curtis Lee and Moses, the concept of having a white 'friend' was
odd, certainly controversial, but not abhorrent.  They liked most of the
white children they knew, and not a few white adults.  Curtis Lee, for
example, had a great fondness for Miz Hopkins, even though she treated him
with segregationist tendencies.

   For the Wilson children the notion, of putting 'Negro' (to put it
nicely) and 'friend' together as a concept, was just fantastic.  It was
something like saying you could eat ...  octopus, for example.  Who'd ever
heard of such a thing?

   Still, while racism was fully inculcated into their upbringing, the
Wilson children had been exposed to blacks in the last year much more
intimately than before that, and that exposure had affected them in ways
they couldn't have explained.  It left them unsure about how to proceed.

   =======================================

   "Why would you want to be friends with a ni...  Negro?" asked
Bernadette.

   Johnnie Sue's anger had flowed out of her along with the breath it took
to scream her emotions and beliefs.  It had been replaced with a dread that
now made her almost limp.  If her parents found out she had been inside the
haunted mansion, not to mention announcing she was friends with a black
child, she'd be grounded for the rest of her life.

   "I told you," she said listlessly.  "We go fishing together, and explore
together," She glanced at Luthor, who looked serious, and went on.  "and
Luthor is the same.  I like doing things with both of them.  We have fun
together.  I like Luthor, and I like Jesse.  I just don't understand why
I'm supposed to treat Jesse different than Luthor."

   Curtis Lee turned to Luthor.

   "And you knew about this?" he asked.

   Luthor ground his teeth.  But he'd sworn an oath, and he couldn't break
the part of it that was most important.

   "He's my friend too.  We do lots of stuff together."

   "Wow," said Hilda Mae.  She looked at Johnnie Sue curiously, as if she
expected to be able to see some difference in her, now that she knew this
girl ...  mixed ...  with ...  She didn't even know what to call them any
more, she realized.  She found that curious.

   "Why is that so hard to understand?" asked Johnnie Sue, revived a little
by the fact that people hadn't stampeded out to tell the world her secret.
"Didn't you three come here to talk to Curtis Lee?  Why would you want to
come talk to a ...  nigger?" Her voice was harsh on the last word.

   "That's different!" said Bernadette, looking startled.

   "Why?" asked Johnnie Sue.  "Just because you wanted to talk about the
mansion?  When I go places with Luthor and Jesse we talk about stuff. 
What's the difference?"

   "I just ...  I mean ...  we were going to ..." she trailed off.

   "And didn't you just sit here and tell us all about the books you read,
and how cool they were?" asked Johnnie Sue.  "You made me want to read
those books.  Weren't we all standing around here talking ...  like
friends?"

   "But we can't BE friends with you!" moaned Bernadette.

   "Why ...  because we're trash?  Because we're niggers?" asked Johnnie
Sue.

   "You're not a nigger, you're a nigger-lover," blurted Nathan.

   "SEE?!" shouted Johnnie Sue again.  "WHY do you have to say such hurtful
things, just because I want to have friends?  Me being friends with Jesse,
or Moses or Curtis Lee can't hurt you!  Me being friends with YOU can't
hurt ME." She put her hands on her hips and tossed her head.  "Though why I
EVER thought about being friends with you I don't know!"

   "But ..." spluttered Nathan.

   "BUT NOTHING!" shouted Johnnie Sue.  "Didn't Hilda Mae say she wanted to
GO to the mansion?  How are you going to get there?  You don't have the
faintest idea where it is, and no adult is going to tell you.  You'd have
to be taken there by one of US.  And WHY would any of US want to do that?
That's what a FRIEND would do, YOU IDIOT!" she shouted, her voice cracking
again.

   "Damn!" said Nathan, frustrated by the logic in her argument.

   "You better watch your mouth," said Hilda Mae instinctively to her
brother's outburst.

   Perhaps because she was the youngest Wilson child, and therefore the
most adaptable, her opinion about all this was conflicted.  Being reminded
that she wanted to go see this haunted mansion, though, combined with the
overload Carolyn Keene's books had caused in her imagination recently,
caused her to come down on this side of radical thought.

   She went on, facing her brother.  "You can just go drive around in
circles.  Bernadette and I want to go see that mansion."

   Bernadette looked confused, thinking about all these new ideas, and her
own desire to see a haunted mansion.

   "This is CRAZY!" whined Nathan, not sure exactly which part of all this
he was talking about.

   "I told you ...  there's nothing there," said Johnnie Sue.

   "Did you go into the attic?" asked Hilda Mae.  "Did you explore the
whole house?"

   "Well ...  no," admitted Johnnie Sue.  "But I went in the front door and
stood where the staircase used to be.  It was creepy, though, so I left."

   "Maybe there's a hidden staircase." Bernadette's imagination was
re-fired.  "You know, like the one in the book." she suggested.

   "I don't know about that," said Johnnie Sue uncertainly.

   "Well, don't you WANT to know?" asked Hilda Mae, pushing her advantage.

   Then, as quite often happens when teenagers are involved, exceedingly
strange concepts were pushed aside, to talk about something less troubling,
and of more immediate interest.  In the process of doing that, however,
there was a hint of defacto acceptance that friendships could be made that,
before this meeting, would have been considered impossible.

   The conversation turned to logistics.  At the upper levels of
unconscious thought, as was common in segregated parts of the U.S., there
were things that could be done openly, and things that couldn't.  All of
the young people present had those thoughts firmly in their mind, albeit
unconsciously, and, despite the fact that they were acting, more or less
(and somewhat tentatively) as a group of friends, they knew that they could
not do this thing publicly.  The most momentous part of the whole process
was that no one thought of the simplest solution to the logistics of
getting a group of black and white youths together ...  that of simply
banning the blacks from participating.

   For the Wilson Children, room to maneuver was the primary problem.  They
couldn't drive to the property, because the roads had been plowed over
decades ago and planted in crops.  Even had the roads been open, trying to
put the others in the car without anyone seeing them would be almost
impossible.  Their understanding of the time it took to walk or run
somewhere was fuzzy, at best.  They cold ride their bikes, but they didn't
know how long that would take either.  So the primary logistical problem
was in determining how long it would take to do the exploration, and when
everybody could get that much time apart from families without raising
suspicions.  The thought of actually asking parental permission, of course,
was not contemplated.

   Sunday afternoon was the obvious answer.  It wasn't a work day, and the
adults would all be sitting around relaxing.

   "Mamma always watches Lassie," said Bernadette, "and Daddy won't miss
the Ed Sullivan Show.  If we rode out bikes we could move a lot faster, and
go where there aren't roads.  Maybe we can be back by then anyway."

   It never occurred to them that the other children might not have bikes.

   Then the discussion turned to what equipment would be needed to do the
exploration.  Johnnie Sue said that, if they wanted to get to the upper
story, they'd have to have some way of climbing, because the stairs were
missing.  A ladder was dismissed immediately, but Moses said he had a rope
he could bring.  Luthor wanted to bring a hatchet ...  "just in case" ...
whatever that meant.

   "You'll have to wear jeans," said Johnnie Sue to Bernadette and Hilda
Mae.  "You do have jeans ...  don't you?"

   "Of course we have jeans!" said an outraged Bernadette.  "And I have
tennis shoes too!"

   "Well, all I've ever seen you in is a dress," explained Johnnie Sue.

   "Just because we dress like GIRLS," said Bernadette, glaring at Johnnie
Sue meaningfully, "doesn't mean we're strange!"

   And so, the grand adventure was planned.  The following Sunday, assuming
it didn't rain, the event would take place.  Johnnie Sue insisted on
inviting Jesse, and that was agreed to without comment.

   Chapter 5

   On the fateful day, the Wilson children - Nathan included, even though
he was having grave reservations about the whole plan - rode away from home
and met Luthor on the front porch of the General Store.  He had two fishing
poles with him, as cover.  It was all he could get together, but while
people would expect Nathan to have one if he was in company with Luthor,
walking someplace, they might not think it odd that the girls didn't have
poles.

   The store was closed, of course, it being Sunday, and no one was around.
Feeling like a spy of some kind, Luthor got off the porch when he saw them
coming, and wandered off between the store and the barber shop, which was
next door.  Anyone who noticed them would have seen that it was obvious the
three were following him, but thankfully, there was no one around to
notice. He handed the extra pole to Nathan, just in case.  Nathan
understood instantly, and grinned.  Then he couldn't figure out how to
carry the pole and ride his bike at the same time, and ended up having to
give it back to Luthor.

   Luthor set what would, for the Wilson children, have been a punishing
pace, if they'd been on foot.  He trotted, and even though they were on
bikes, he got ahead of them about twenty yards or so and stayed there,
looking over his shoulder occasionally until they were well outside of
town.

   "HEY!" called out Hilda Mae.  She put on a burst of speed when he
stopped and turned around.

   "Why are you running?" she asked, breathlessly, while her sister and
brother caught up.  "And why are you staying up there ahead of us?"

   "I didn't think we were supposed to be together," said Luthor, looking
confused.

   "Well, we are, so slow down," groused Bernadette.

   Still, while they stayed together from that point on, Luthor was too
excited to slow down.  To be honest, it wasn't that he wanted to get to the
mansion quickly.  He was convinced that they'd turn around and leave as
soon as they saw it.  But the whole idea of doing something secret had him
on pins and needles.  He didn't have many adventures in his life, and he
was making the most of this one.

   They saw the trees surrounding the place first, and Luthor led them into
the tiny forest.  They had to dismount then, and push their bikes.  Their
first view of the house WAS shocking, but not in the way Luthor had thought
it would be.  Some of the roof had fallen in.  There was no glass in any of
the windows.  Creepers covered the ground and a whole tree was growing out
of the part of the roof that was missing.  One round column had fallen, and
lay covered by vegetation.  The corner of the house it had been on sagged
downward at a tilt that made it obvious one couldn't stand easily on the
second story floor inside ...  if it was even still there.

   "Damn!" said Nathan.

   "You sure are cussing a lot lately," pointed out his younger sister.

   "Well look at it," said Nathan crossly.

   "It's so romantic," sighed Bernadette.  "Just imagine what it used to
look like."

   They forged on ahead, getting to within twenty yards of the place before
other teens started popping out of nooks and crannies all over the place.

   "We weren't sure it was you," said Johnnie Sue, dusting off her
buttocks.

   "Who else would we be?" asked Nathan, staring up at the falling-down
house.  "I can see why nobody comes here."

   "We told you it was old," said Moses, uncharacteristically speaking.

   Jesse was there, but was standing off to one side, looking at the rest
of the group nervously.  When he heard Moses speak, though, he edged closer
to the group.  There was a rattling scrape from inside the house, only
yards away, and everybody jumped away from the house, turning to face it.

   "What was that?" asked Bernadette, her voice hushed.

   "Just a branch in the wind, probably," said Curtis Lee.  "Can you
believe there's a whole tree growing inside?"

   "So it wasn't a ghost?" asked Hilda Mae, sounding disappointed.

   "There isn't any such thing," said Moses.  "Everybody knows that."

   "There might be," said Hilda Mae stubbornly.  "Nobody knows for sure."

   "You WANT there to be a ghost?" asked Jesse, speaking for the first
time.

   "Well ...  no ...  I suppose not," she answered.  "But it would be
exciting.  Ooooo I wonder if there's any treasure.  There HAS to be
treasure!" she squealed.

   Nobody moved for a few minutes, while they all looked at the rotting
structure.

   "Well ...  are we going in there ...  or not?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "I don't think we should," said Nathan, looking dubious.

   "Come on," wheedled Johnnie Sue.  "You're not chicken ...  are you?"

   "It don't look safe," said Nathan heatedly.

   "It DOESN'T look safe," corrected Johnnie Sue, grinning.

   "That's what I said," said Nathan, recognizing the bait, but not rising
to it.

   "OK, then, we'll just go inside the front door, like I did," said
Johnnie Sue, moving forward.

   Peer pressure is strong.  Not even Nathan was left behind when it became
clear to him that the rest were going to go inside.  One might have thought
they'd stay in a tight little group, but, once inside the front door, they
spread out like a S.W.A.T.  team, moving away from each other to kick at
this pile of dirt, or peer into that dim corner.

   What they saw was like some kind of war zone.  The entry room took up
the middle third of the length of the house.  The ceiling, or what was left
of it, was two stories up.  Originally, there would have been three sides
to the room, with the kitchen, dining room and parlor downstairs, along
with, perhaps, quarters for a butler.  Above those, upstairs, would have
been the bedrooms, their doors accessed by a balcony that went all the way
around the three walls.  Now, however, there were only two and a half walls
left, the one to their right having burned and caved in at the corner. 
That was where the tree was growing.  On the side across from that, two of
the original supports for the upstairs balcony had been removed for some
reason.  The part of the balcony there had sagged until it was at a thirty
or forty degree slope, and looked like some weird kind of slide.  The
railing at that part was broken too, and hanging outward, as if someone had
been standing on the balcony when it sagged, and was thrown through the
railing.

   The flooring was mostly rotted away in the part of the house that was
open to the elements, and pieces of the roof, upper room and its ceiling
still lay in a jumbled heap around the trunk of the tree.  Luthor went as
far as he could on solid flooring and looked up at it.

   "Hickory" he announced.  "Must be at least forty years old."

   "How would something like this get inside a house?" came Bernadette's
voice.  All the others turned to see her hefting a rock that probably
weighed ten pounds.  That was a puzzle none of them had an answer for.

   A breeze shifted a branch of the hickory tree, and it scraped against
the wall again.  Everyone turned to look at it.  They relaxed when they
confirmed that no ghost was responsible for the sound.  Elsewhere in the
house there were creaks and a sound that was almost like a sigh, which
ratcheted up their tension.

   "It's just the wind," said Curtis Lee.  He had moved to where there had
been a staircase that led up to the second floor.  It was obvious there had
been a staircase, and that it had been curved.

   "How could a whole set of stairs just vanish?" he asked no one in
particular, looking around.

   There was no answer for that either, but it brought to mind their
mission.

   "How are we going to get to the attic?" complained Bernadette.

   "We don't even know there IS an attic," said Nathan.

   There ensued an animated discussion about the engineering that would be
required to get someone up to the second floor landing, and then how that
person could help the others up.  The conversation was abruptly terminated
when Moses walked into view on the second floor.

   "There's another staircase," he called down softly.  "Off the kitchen, I
think."

   Nobody had seen him wander off, so it took a minute to locate the
kitchen.  It was a wreck too, with cabinet doors missing, and dirt covering
the floor.  Mixed in the pile were dry, white, scattered bones.

   "What was that," asked Hilda Mae fearfully.

   Luthor got down and picked up several bones, making both the Wilson
girls shudder.

   "I'd say coon," said Luthor, looking around.  "It either died in here,
or something brought it in here to eat it."

   "Eeeewwww" squealed Bernadette and Hilda Mae in tandem.

   "Oh," said Luthor, feeling proud suddenly, "that ain't nuthin'.  I seen
bones all over the place around here.  Once I saw ..."

   "Found it!" called out Johnnie Sue from an obvious doorway in one corner
of the kitchen.  She disappeared and they heard her footfalls as she
climbed the stairs.  "Careful," she called back.  "Some of the stairs are
missing."

   It was dark in the close-walled servant's staircase, and some of the
treads were, indeed, missing.  There were ominous creaks and groans as too
many people, grouped too closely, climbed up stairs that were too old.  All
that did was make them group together even more closely.  Maybe because of
the groaning structure around them, no one noticed that black bodies
brushed against white bodies in ways that, if done intentionally, and under
other circumstances, would have caused an uproar.

   Still, it was instinctive to spread out once they reached the open
second floor balcony that had surrounded three sides of the entryway.  That
balcony ended abruptly in the corner of the house that had no roof. 
Elsewhere, though, it led to openings that suddenly looked like gaping
mouths.

   It only took them fifteen minutes to arrive at the conclusion that there
was nothing of real interest in the house.  All they found were empty
rooms, full of plaster that had fallen from walls and ceilings.  They could
see through the gaps in the lath that remained on those ceilings and it was
plain there was no attic.

   There was plainly no treasure either.  The disappointment was almost
palpable as they gathered once again on the landing.

   "There has to be something," moaned Bernadette, her hopes dashed.

   "There's a really cool doorknob over there," said Moses, trying to be
helpful.  He pointed across to one corner of the balcony, where a single
door still hung on its hinges.  It was beyond the sagging section of floor,
and no one had thought it was safe to try to cross it just to see if
anything was in that one room.

   "A doorknob?" snorted Nathan, who was thinking that he could have
practiced driving this afternoon, instead of coming to this broken down
wreck.

   "Well, it's crystal ...  or something," said Moses defensively.  "I've
never seen anything like that before.  It IS an antique and all.  Maybe
it's valuable."

   "How would we get it off?" asked Johnnie Sue.  "We didn't bring any
tools."

   "I've got this," said Luthor, holding up his hatchet.  "We could just
hack it out of the door."

   "That's vandalism!" said Hilda Mae, her voice outraged.

   "Oh, come on," said Luthor, wanting to hack something.  "Nobody lives
here and nobody would care anyway.  You've seen the place.  If you wait
another week it will probably fall off all by itself!"

   Luthor edged toward the sagging portion of the balcony.  As he put his
foot down there was a groan and a cracking sound.  He backed up
immediately.

   "Maybe you're right," he said to Hilda Mae.

   "What a chicken," snorted Nathan.  If he was going to miss driving
practice, at least he was going to have something to show for it.  And
maybe the doorknob WAS worth something as an antique.  "Give me that
thing." he said, reaching for the hatchet.

   Luthor gave the tool to the older boy and backed up.

   "Nathan..." Bernadette's voice was heavy with warning.

   "I'm gonna get me that doorknob," said Nathan, and started off toward
his goal.  "Besides, maybe nobody else has ever been able to get to that
room either.  Maybe it's still got stuff in it."

   That appealed to the disappointed treasure hunters, and they watched him
go.

   He hugged the wall, his back pressed against it, and stepped sideways
onto the sloping floor.  There was another groan and creak, and one of his
feet slipped on the dust, sliding toward the broken railing.  He edged back
off the damaged part and surveyed it.

   "Just forget it Nathan," said Bernadette.  "It's too dangerous."

   Nathan backed up.  "I'm gonna GET me that doorknob," he growled.  Then
he rushed forward, accompanied by the screams of all the girls present. 
We'll call the sounds the boys made shouts, instead of screams, but all
were in the highest registers those voices would produce.  His intent was
to vault over the sagging six feet of balcony, and land on the other side.
It wasn't actually all that bad of a plan.  He was a fairly tall boy, with
long legs, and the six foot jump wasn't unreasonable.

   What was unreasonable was expecting the floor on the other side to hold
his weight as he crashed down onto the edge.  That and the fact that he
only made it five feet, instead of six.  His feet landed where the balcony
began to tip, and his weight drove both feet through the rotten boards. 
When the dust settled, half of Nathan Wilson was above the floor, and the
other half was below it.

   The crash and sound of breaking wood resulted in more screams, but they
cut off as if hands had been put over their mouths as each youngster peered
to see what had become of Nathan.  There was a scraping sound as the
hatchet, which Nathan had dropped during his descent through the floor slid
down the slope.  It almost stopped at the edge, but then gained momentum
and flipped over, to land with a rattle on the floor below.

   "NATHAN?" screamed Bernadette.

   "I think I'm stuck," came his reply.  He tried to twist his body around
to look behind him, and there was more crackling of breaking wood sounds,
along with a pained "Oww" from Nathan.

   "DON'T MOVE!" shouted Bernadette.  "ARE YOU OK?"

   "You don't have to shout," came his disgusted reply.  "I'm just stuck,
that's all."

   "What are we gonna do?" asked Moses, his mouth right by Hilda Mae's ear.
During the incident they had all migrated together, into a huddle somehow.

   "We have to get him out of there," said Bernadette.  "If he falls
through he'll die!  I just KNOW it!"

   "Calm down," said Curtis Lee.  "We'll get him out.  Just calm down."

   He yelled over to Nathan.

   "We're going to get you out, but don't move around too much or you might
fall on through."

   "There's a board poking my stomach and it really hurts," called out
Nathan.  "And I feel something wet on side.  I don't know if it's blood or
not, but that don't feel good neither."

   He tried to push himself up with his arms.  There was another creak and
a loud snap, as of some large piece of wood cracking.  When he couldn't
push himself out, he sagged back down, this time going in even deeper.  He
felt a burning sensation on his side and howled.

   "I THINK THERE'S A NAIL DIGGING INTO MY SIDE OR SOMETHING.  YOU HAVE TO
HELP ME!" He yelled.

   "I told you DON'T MOVE, BOY," yelled Curtis Lee, getting angry.

   "WELL DO SOMETHING?" pleaded Nathan.  "I might bleed to death here!" he
moaned.

   There was a hurried conference.  Everyone agreed that no one could jump
the gap.  All that would do was put more weight on the sagging area.  Moses
still had his rope, coiled and across one shoulder and under his other arm,
bandoleer style.  Their first attempt was to climb up into the rafters and
lower the rope to Nathan so he could pull himself up and out of the hole.

   That went fairly well, considering how nervous the kids were, and how
much noise Nathan kept making about bleeding to death.  Johnnie Sue climbed
up onto Curtis Lee's back while he knelt on all fours, and then climbed his
back to his shoulders as he stood up.  Once she was there, she pulled at
the lath, which came away in her hands in dry, crackling pieces.  Then,
once she had a hole big enough to pull herself up through, she did that,
standing on the rafters once she was up.

   "Don't you fall through too!" called up Hilda Mae anxiously.

   They passed her up the rope and then ducked back as she walked from one
rafter to another.  There was a loud crack, and a piece of the ceiling
sagged as there were more screams.

   "I'm OK," came Johnnie Sue's muffled voice as she stepped quickly onto
another rafter.

   They went back out of the room, to watch as pieces of loose plaster and
wood began raining down on Nathan.

   "If she falls through there it will kill them both," said Jesse, his
voice hushed.

   When Johnnie Sue smashed her fist through the lath above Nathan, they
all jumped and shouted, but only her hand appeared.  She lowered the rope
through the hole, until it was in front of Nathan.  He grabbed at it
convulsively and pulled.

   "STOP" shouted Johnnie Sue, panic in her voice.  "I HAVE TO TIE IT OFF
FIRST!"

   Nathan complained some more while she did that, and then called down to
him to try his weight on the rope.  He pulled, but it did no good.  He quit
almost as soon as he started.

   "I can't pull myself up," he cried.  "I'm stuck too hard, and it's
ripping my side out!"

   Now they were worried.  Seriously worried.

   It was Moses who saved the day.  He had been thinking about how Johnnie
Sue had broken through the ceiling to get up onto the rafters.  He looked
at the wall, which was similarly covered with thin cedar strips.

   "Go get me Luthor's hatchet," he said absently to Jesse.  "I got an
idea."

   Jesse ran for the back stairway, and appeared on the main floor under
Nathan.

   "I bet Curtis Lee could reach his feet if he jumped hard!" he called up.

   "Just bring me the hatchet!" yelled Moses.

   He was fending off questions by the others, not sure that what he
planned would work, but trying to think about that instead of talking to
them.  When Jesse ran onto the balcony with the hatchet, Moses took it and
went into the nearest room.  He attacked the wall, knocking chips of
plaster and wood everywhere, and raising dust so that he could hardly see.
He sneezed as he heard incredulous voices asking what in the world he was
doing.  He had to move to one side, but found a hollow space and flailed at
it with the hatchet.  It only took him minutes to step through the wall,
and into the room next to it.  Then he calmly walked across the room and
opened the door, walking out on the other side of the sagging balcony,
where he could approach Nathan on relatively solid flooring.

   "What in tarnation is going on down there?" yelled Johnnie Sue.

   "STAY THERE!" yelled Moses up to her.  "CAN YOU LET MORE ROPE DOWN?"

   Johnnie Sue started to argue with him, but he shouted her down.  She
finally agreed that she could extend the rope another three feet and still
have enough to tie it off, but still wanted to know why.

   "JUST DO THAT!" he yelled.

   He got down on his hands and knees and crawled carefully toward Nathan,
who was looking at him miserably, with streaks down his dusty cheeks where
tears had made them clean.

   "Help me," pleaded Nathan.

   "I'm going to, but you got to be strong, OK?" said Moses, his voice
slipping into that tone that his mother used when he was hurt.

   "Help me," moaned Nathan again.

   "OK, here's what you got to do, Nathan," said Moses, crawling closer. 
The rope in front of Nathan went slack, and another three feet coiled in
front of him.  "Can you get that rope through the floor, right there in
front of you where there's a hole?"

   Nathan looked down at the triangular shaped hole that he could see
through right in front of his stomach.  The board that was digging into his
stomach painfully was on one side of that hole.

   "Yes," he gasped.  "But what good is that going to do?"

   "You have to hold onto that rope real tight," said Moses gently.  "You
got to be strong.  You got to hold yourself up while I hack the floor away
around you.  Then you can let yourself down on the rope."

   Nathan's face was anguished.

   "I can't do it," he moaned.

   "Yes you CAN!" hissed Moses.

   "I'm too heavy," whined Nathan.  "I can't pull that hard."

   "Just put the rope through the hole!" insisted Moses.

   Nathan fumbled with the end of the rope and it dropped down, hitting his
toe.

   "Now, hold on tight," warned Moses.

   "I can't DO IT!" yelled Nathan, panic in his voice.

   "You know what?" asked Moses in a perfectly calm voice.  "You aren't a
cracker.  You're too weak to be a cracker.  You're one of them white
niggers ...  aren't you?"

   Nathan's face froze, his eyes wide.  Then his face twisted with hatred.
He grabbed the rope and pulled, causing the wood around his waist to move
and creak.

   "You fucking nigger I'll KILL YOU WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE!" he screamed.

   "HOLD ON TIGHT!" screamed Moses back at him, and he raised the hatchet.

   From the other side of the gap, it looked like Moses was attacking
Nathan with the hatchet.  Based on what they'd heard, all the teens
believed that was exactly what was happening.  But as they drew breath for
frantic screams, they heard the hatchet strike wood.  Chips and dust flew
everywhere as he flailed.

   The only thing in Moses' mind was that he had to hit the floor, and not
Nathan Wilson.  Nathan didn't make it any easier, because he flailed too,
and Moses had to slide the hatchet in sideways to avoid Nathan's frenzied
movements.  Then a large section of wood gave way and suddenly Nathan was
falling.  The last thing Moses saw of him was his hands, gripping the rope
tightly as it slid rapidly through them, and the tail of his shirt, caught
on a nail at the edge of the hole.  There was a ripping sound and then
another scream.

   Now Nathan's agonized scream was for the heat in his hands as the hemp
rope burned them.  Still, he held on tightly, because in his mind the drop
was two stories.  He looked up to see his hands reach the end of the rope
and watched helplessly as it slid through.  Expecting to fall another
story, he was taken completely by surprise when his loose-limbed feet hit
the floor after only two or three more inches.  The surprise was so great
he simply crumbled and flopped into a heap.

   There was general pandemonium as everyone stampeded for the back
stairway, to get down to Nathan.  Not a few of them thought he was probably
dead, his sisters included.  What they found, though, was a moaning young
man, alternately trying to feel his body and not touch anything with his
burning hands.

   "HE'S BLEEDING!" yelped Hilda Mae, seeing blood on the side of her
brother's shirt and terrified that he would turn his head and show her
gaping wounds from where the hatchet had scored his face.

   Bernadette, oddly, had that special quality of being able to operate
calmly in an emergency.  She would break down in tears later, but for now
she simply knelt and examined her brother.  She, too, checked his face and
shoulders first, and then pulled at his torn shirt to expose his side. 
There was an inch long puncture, that was bleeding freely.  Away from that
was a long, thin scrape that went to the hair under his arm.

   "Oh for pity's SAKES!" she gasped, relief flooding her chest.  "It's
just a SCRATCH!"

   "No it's not!" moaned Nathan.  "I'm gonna die!"

   "You are not," said his sister, her voice trembling.  "Can you stand
up?"

   "I don't know," said Nathan, her voice convincing him that death might
be further away than he thought.  He sat up first, and wiggled his legs. 
Hands helped him, and he stood shakily up, looking around.  He looked up,
to see Moses grinning down at him, his head hanging out over the balcony
between two broken uprights in the rail.

   "I told you I'd get you down," said Moses.

   Shifting from foot to foot, still unable to believe he wasn't seriously
hurt, Nathan realized that if he hadn't been so mad at the boy for saying
what he did, he never would have had the strength to hold onto that rope,
and would have dropped like a stone.  And, with the pain gone from his
stomach and lessened in his side, he felt a lot better.  He looked down at
his naked stomach, but the skin was only dented and scratched, not broken.
He looked back up.

   "Damned if you didn't, Moses." he said.

   It was the first time he had addressed one of the black students by his
name.

   Chapter 6

   Johnnie Sue made a bunch of noise about how she had been abandoned up in
the ceiling, but they could all tell her heart wasn't in it.  Moses, since
he was still up there, went to the hole in the ceiling and she let herself
down to stand on his shoulders, jumping on down to the floor from there. 
Both ran for the staircase.

   When they ran into the entry room from the kitchen, Moses was almost
tackled by Hilda Mae, who threw her arms around him in a tight grip.

   "I thought you KILLED him, but you saved his life!" she cried.

   Moses tried pushing her away from him, automatically in terror that a
white girl was pressed against his body.  His hands pushed at her waist,
but her grip was too strong.  She was sobbing into his shoulder.  Mixed in
with the shock of her hugging him, was amazement at how slim her waist
felt, and how hard the flesh was under her shirt.  He had expected a girl
to feel soft, but her skin was firm.  Something else felt soft too, pressed
against his chest, and it made his knees go weak.

   "It's OK," he said, hesitantly.  "He's OK."

   She changed her hug to a grip on his biceps and shoved him back so
forcefully that his head snapped forward before he could straighten it back
up.

   "He's OK because of YOU," she said, her eyes shining.

   "Hilda Mae Wilson!  What in the WORLD has gotten into you?" came the
strident voice of her sister.  "You let go of that boy right this instant!"

   Her usage of the word "boy" was not misunderstood by any of them present
to mean "young man".

   Hilda Mae turned her head, her hands still clamped firmly on Moses'
biceps.

   "This BOY just saved my brother's life, and I don't give a DAMN if he's
a ...  Negro!"

   "What do you think Daddy would say if he saw you right now?" asked
Bernadette, clearly flustered.

   "I know what he'd say, but he isn't going to EVER find out about this,
because if he did he'd know we were here, and if he knew THAT I'd have to
admit that it was YOU that brought us here and almost got Nathan KILLED!"
shouted Hilda Mae.

   She turned back around to Moses, who was staring at her, the whites of
his eyes bright in his face.  She leaned forward until her face was only
inches from his.

   "I'm not going to kiss you Moses, but I want you to know I feel like it.
That's how much I want to thank you for helping Nathan."

   Then she pushed him away and let him go.  The young man stood frozen,
his mouth open.  Then as he realized he was holding his breath, he let it
out in an explosive exhale and stumbled backwards away from Hilda Mae.  He
bumped into a wall and she laughed.

   "You're supposed to say I'm welcome," she giggled.

   "I'm welcome," said the boy instantly, and Hilda almost doubled over
laughing.

   She turned around to find all the others staring at her.

   "What are all of you looking at?" she asked, putting her hands on her
hips.

   Nathan was staring at her, much like Moses had been staring at her, but
he didn't say anything.

   Suddenly, almost as if it was to change the subject, the discussion
turned to how Nathan was going to get back home and get his shirt changed
without his parents finding out what happened to him.  He was in some pain,
but it was manageable, now that the pressure was gone.  His shirt, however,
was hopelessly torn, and bloody to boot.

   Johnnie Sue stuck her hand up in the air, like she was at school.  When
everyone looked at her she blushed and dropped her hand.

   "I was just thinking," she said, still discomfited by what she had done,
"Just the other day, Mamma gave me a whipping because I tore one of my
shirts on some barb wire while I was climbing through the fence.  Maybe you
could say that's how you tore your shirt."

   The merits of that were discussed at length, the group being about
evenly divided between those who thought no one in their right mind would
believe a shirt could be completely destroyed by a fence, and those who
insisted that the scrape along his side looked just like a fence had
grabbed him.

   They were still talking about it as they left, when Moses suddenly
stopped.  They all turned around to look at him.  He looked at Luthor and
said "Give me the hatchet." Luthor, looking puzzled, handed it over.  "Be
right back," said Moses, and he bounded back into the house.  The rest
drifted back toward the front door, but suddenly the overhanging balcony,
with its missing supports, looked more unstable somehow than it had before
and they stopped.  Sounds of banging and crunching came from the house, and
Johnnie Sue started for the front door.  "I'm cuu-ming" came faintly from
the house and she stopped.  Seconds later Moses came tearing out of the
house, the hatchet in one hand, and something else dangling from the other.
He shoved the hatchet at Luthor and pulled up in front of Nathan.

   "Here," he said, holding out the other object.  It was the doorknob,
still attached to the metal body of the locking mechanism by a square metal
shaft.  There was another doorknob on the other side, this one made of some
kind of veined blue stone.  The lock was fitted to take a skeleton key.

   Nathan accepted the gift, a look of wonder in his eyes.

   "Since you got hurt and all," said Moses in unneeded explanation.

   "Thank you," Nathan said quietly.

   In the end, Nathan had the barbed wire story well rehearsed as he tried
to sneak into the back door of the house while Bernadette and Hilda Mae
went in first to distract their parents.  They needn't have bothered.  Both
adults were engaged in watching television, and paid no attention to any of
their children.  Nathan stuffed the shirt under his mattress and put on a
new one.  The door knobs were bulky, and the only place he could think of
to hide them was in the top of his closet, under some extra pants.  Then he
went out into the living room as though nothing had happened.

   The only response the Wilson children got from their parents concerning
their outing was from Harvey.  When, during the commercials that ran at the
beginning of the Ed Sullivan Show, he noticed his children, he informed
them that if they were so rude as to miss supper, then they could just go
without.

   None of them complained.  Their parents didn't notice that either.

   ========================================

   It wasn't until the next evening, when Johnnie Sue, Luthor and Jesse got
back together for the first time since the trip to the mansion, that
Johnnie Sue was able to tell them her secret.

   Once they had gotten the Wilson children back to town, all the others
had split to the four winds to run home.  All had missed supper which, on a
Sunday, wasn't all that unusual, but all were nervous about the events of
the day.  Johnnie Sue was worried that the nail might give Nathan lockjaw.
Curtis Lee insisted that, before the nail had been exposed enough to break
Nathan's skin, it had been embedded in wood, and was therefore not
dangerous in that way.  In all the talk about that, she had forgotten that
she had seen something while she was in the ceiling of the mansion that she
intended to tell them all.

   So, when the friends got together, this time with Moses invited, she was
anxious to tell them about it.

   "I saw something in the mansion!" she said excitedly as Moses and Jesse
walked up to complete the group.

   She expected them to be excited with her, but they just looked at her.
Then she realized that her words had not conveyed anything in particular.

   "Up in the rafters," she added, not actually telling them anything more.
They still just looked at her expectantly.

   Finally she calmed down enough to speak plainly.

   "While I was up there I saw a wall, way back in one corner of the house.
I think there IS an attic up there.  It can't be very big, but it was
definitely a wall.  I meant to say something, but in all the excitement I
forgot."

   She got a lot less enthusiasm than she expected.  In fact, she got
almost none.  Jesse smiled, but that was it.

   "Aren't you excited?" she asked, temper creeping into her voice.

   "I don't think there's anything exciting about that place," said Luthor
firmly.

   "Oh, come ON," yipped Johnnie Sue, stamping her foot.  "Who KNOWS what
might be up there?"

   "Nothing is up there, Johnnie Sue," said Luthor patiently.  "You saw
that place.  There's nothing left."

   "We won't know that until we actually look," she said stubbornly.

   "You actually want to go BACK there?" asked her friend, looking amazed.
"You're starting to sound like that Hilda Mae!"

   "She hugged me!" blurted out Moses.

   To be truthful, all of them realized the import of that hug, but as for
Johnnie Sue, all she could think about was that Moses' comment was
distracting them from what SHE wanted to talk about.  She went to him and
hugged him herself, squeezing him gently and then letting him go before he
could react.

   "There ...  I hugged you too.  Now, can we talk about the attic?"

   Moses was round eyed.  He had gone to bed the night before, thoughts of
the feel of Hilda Mae's waist and breasts uppermost in his mind.  He had
gotten hard thinking about that.  He couldn't do anything about it, because
his younger brother was in the bed with him.  Sleep had come with
difficulty.  Now he had felt another pair of those soft breasts being
crushed into his chest.  He found himself staring at them, pushing out
Johnnie Sue's shirt.

   Johnnie Sue was looking at Moses when she made her not-so-veiled
suggestion that they should be talking about the attic.  When he didn't
answer, she noticed where his eyes were staring, and looked down.  As she
realized what he was looking at, a wave of heat started, just above those
breasts, and crept upwards to stain her cheeks red.

   "You're looking at my titties!" she gasped.

   Moses' eyes jerked up, and a look of horror came over his face.  He
covered his eyes with his hands.

   "I'm sorry!" he yelped.  "I couldn't help it!" He moaned and went from
peeking through his fingers to closing them tightly.

   Luthor laughed, breaking the tension.  Johnnie Sue glared at him and he
doubled over, laughing even harder.

   "What are YOU cackling about?" she shouted.

   She looked at Jesse, who was looking up at the trees above them.

   "Well?!" she shouted impatiently.

   Luthor got his breath and grinned.  "Of course he's looking at your
titties.  All of us look at your titties!" He started laughing again.

   Johnnie Sue tackled him with a growl, taking both of them to the ground.
She rolled with him until she was on top of him, sitting on his stomach. 
Luthor kept laughing as she pummeled him with her fists, and did nothing
but try to ward off her blows.  Finally she grabbed both of his wrists and
put her weight on them, leaning over to put her face right in front of his.

   "You take that back!" she demanded.

   Instead, Luthor dropped his eyes to her chest, and stared at it
pointedly.  Johnnie Sue was almost incoherent as she realized her shirt was
hanging open at the collar loosely.  It was one of her father's old ones,
and she liked it because it was loose and comfortable.  But, sitting like
she now was, it gaped open and her breasts, unfettered because she hated
bras, hung in plain view as she looked down the open collar ...  just like
Luthor was looking down the open collar.

   She sat back up and raised her butt six or seven inches off of Luthor's
stomach.  Then she dropped with every ounce of weight she could bring to
bear.  Luthor's breath exploded from his lungs and she bounced again,
taking great joy in the look of panic that came into his eyes as he
couldn't draw a breath.  She put her hands on his chest and raised herself
for another drop.  His hands scrabbled at her arms.

   "Just because I have 'em, doesn't mean you get to stare at 'em," she
said, and dropped again.

   Luthor was wheezing weakly now, his face turning blue, and she stood up
suddenly, one foot on either side of him, looking down.

   "You hear?" she snarled.

   He nodded and rolled to curl up, just trying to get air into his lungs.
She whirled to find Moses and Jesse staring at her, their mouths open.

   "And you two mind where your eyes wander too ...  got that?"

   "Yessum" gasped Moses automatically.

   Jesse, though, knew her better ...  had known her better for a lot
longer ...  and he was able to make a grin come to his face.

   "You goin' to sit on me like that too?" he asked.

   "I'll neuter you like my pappa neuters a pig!" said Johnnie Sue, her
voice heavy with scorn.

   "Awww, come on Johnnie Sue," pleaded Jesse, still smiling.  "We didn't
mean nuthin'.  You ARE a girl, after all." Unconsciously, though, he cupped
his hands over his groin.

   It was seeing her friend protecting his ...  manhood ...  that caused
the mood to lighten for Johnnie Sue.  He looked funny, cupping his privates
like that, and she suddenly laughed.

   "Look at you!" She pointed to his hands.  Luthor was still just trying
to breathe, but both Jesse and Moses looked where she was pointing.  "You
actually think I'd hurt you!"

   Jesse jerked his hands away from his crotch, and his already dark skin
got a shade darker.

   Johnnie Sue laughed some more.  "What a bunch of sissy boys you are! 
Scared of a pore old little girl!" She thought that was hilarious, but was
the only one laughing.  She stopped as the uncomfortable mood made itself
plain.

   Luthor sat up, finally able to breathe normally.

   "You didn't have to do that," he complained.

   "You were looking at my titties!" she exclaimed.  "What's the big deal
anyway?" she snorted.  "So I got titties.  Every girl has titties.  Why are
they so fascinating to boys?"

   "If you think I'm going to talk about your damn titties when you just
done that to me, you must be crazy!" panted Luthor, getting up and dusting
off his clothes.

   Johnnie Sue felt this new and sudden, but obvious, rift in their
friendship in a way that was painful.  Her feelings were conflicted.  She
had been mad that her friends would look at her ...  that way.  It was like
a trust had been abused.  And now it looked like all this was going to
cause problems between best friends.  That made her mad too.  She couldn't
help it that the damn things grew on her chest.  And lately they had grown
so much that her mother was starting to insist that she wear a bra.  She
only had one, and it was way too small now.  It was like her life was being
taken away from her somehow, and she was helpless to do anything about it.

   "Answer my question!" she demanded, frustrated so much that she almost
danced.  "You stared at them.  You owe me an answer!"

   "Moses stared at them too," grumbled Luthor.  "Ask him."

   Johnnie Sue whirled to confront Moses, who was edging backwards.

   "Don't you go anywhere Moses Finshaw!" she snapped.  "You started this!
You answer my question!"

   "You hugged me!" babbled Moses, scared so much he started looking gray.

   Johnnie Sue realized how frightened he was, and held up her hands.  This
was getting worse and worse, instead of better.

   "OK," she said calmly.  "I'm not going to be mad.  But I want to know
... please?"

   "You're already mad," said Luthor grumpily.

   Johnnie Sue threw up her hands in frustration.  Then she took a breath
to calm herself.

   "Please?" she asked.

   "You really want to know?" asked Luthor, looking at her suspiciously.

   "Yes, I really want to know." she said.

   Luthor looked at Moses and Jesse, both of whom were standing mutely,
still obviously scared.

   "OK, I'm not real clear exactly what it is you want to know," said
Luthor.  "Could you ask the question again?"

   Johnnie Sue looked at him with a frown, but decided he was still addled
by her bouncing on his stomach.

   "Why are boys so interested in titties?" she asked evenly.

   "I can't believe we're talking about this," said Luthor.  He saw Johnnie
Sue drawing another deep breath and cut her off before she could yell at
him again.  "OK, OK." She subsided and waited for him to speak.  He looked
at Moses and Jesse again, and then back at the girl.

   "They're pretty," he said uncertainly.

   "Pretty?" Johnnie Sue said, looking down at her chest.

   "Well ...  sure," said Luthor.

   She turned to Moses, the question in her eyes.  He still didn't say
anything.

   "You can tell me, Moses," she said, her voice sounding strange.

   Moses' eyes went in a quick circle.  "You promise you won't tell
anybody?" he asked.

   "I promise," said Johnnie Sue, crossing her heart instinctively.  She
didn't think about the fact that her finger was making that motion across
the very breasts they were talking about.

   "Soft," he said.

   "Soft?" she repeated.

   "They feel soft," he explained.

   "But you didn't feel them," she said, confused, looking at his hands.

   "Against me," he added, touching his own chest.  He held his arms out
like he was hugging someone.

   "That's it?" she asked, sounding surprised.  "They're pretty and they
feel soft?" She looked back at Luthor, who still looked tense.  "You really
think they're pretty?"

   He swallowed.  "Well sure," he said.  "I mean I only saw them this once
...  but they're pretty."

   "You've seen them lots of times," she insisted.  "We've been
skinny-dipping down at the creek a million times."

   "That was a long time ago," said Luthor.  "You didn't have them the last
time, when we went skinny dipping."

   Johnnie Sue thought about that.  Her chest had seemed to just explode
over the last winter and spring.  And, now that she thought about it, none
of them had seen each other for years.  Her mother had insisted that she
wear a swim suit when she started bleeding, and when she started wearing
one the boys had just kept their shorts on too.

   "That makes me feel weird," she said.

   "We won't look any more," offered Luthor.  "I mean if that would make
you feel better."

   "How can I feel better?" she complained.  "If you think they're pretty
you're going to look at them.  You can't stop yourself from looking at
them. What do I get to look at?  This isn't fair!"

   "Boys don't have titties," said Luthor.  "We can't help that either."

   Johnnie Sue frowned, but that slowly turned to something almost like a
smile.

   "No, but you DO have something else I could look at."

   Luthor stared at her.  She turned her head to look at Moses and Jesse.
They were staring at her too.

   "I can't show you that!" said Luthor, his own hands going to cover his
crotch.

   Johnnie Sue felt power returning to her and loved it.  She pointed at
his hands.

   "Look at that, Moses.  Luthor's afraid of me too!"

   "I'm not afraid of you!" he argued.  "I'm just not going to show you my
...  I'm just not going to show it to you!"

   "Why not?" she asked airily.  "You saw my titties.  Why can't I see your
root?"

   "Root?" said Luthor.

   "That's what my Mamma calls it," said Johnnie Sue.

   "Well, whatever you call it, you can't see it." he said stubbornly.  "My
pa would whip me raw if I showed you my dick."

   "Well your pa would whip you raw if I told him you looked at my titties
too ...  now wouldn't he?  But your pa is never going to know about this
anyway ...  as long as I get to see something." She looked smug.

   "What about them?" Luthor gulped, thinking she would back off.

   "They stared at my titties too," she said simply.  She turned to look at
Jesse and Moses, who looked scared again.  She misunderstood the fact that
they were aware they were black, and she was white.  "Look, I'm not going
to castrate anybody, OK?  I just want to see something so we're even."

   "I cain't show you my thing," squeaked Moses.  "Lightnin' would strike
me down iff'n I did!" His speech patterns degraded a little from the
fright.

   "All three of you stared at my titties," she said stubbornly.

   "I didn't!" yelped Jesse.

   She turned to face him, and his eyes automatically dropped to the bulges
under discussion.

   "You just did.  So there!  You have to show me yours too!"

   "But Luthor saw them nekkid," whined Moses, trying to find some way out
of this fiasco.

   Johnnie Sue fumed.  This was just so unfair!  Her hands went to her
shirt and she lifted it, facing Moses and Jesse, pulling it above her
round, jutting breasts.  Both boys stared at her pale pink nipples, perched
on round handfuls of lily white flesh.

   "THERE!" she shouted.  "Now YOU'VE seen them naked too!  Now you get
those pants down around your ankles before I do something about it!" She
jerked her shirt back down and put her hands on her hips.

   "I can't believe you done that!" gasped Jesse.

   "Drop 'em!" insisted Johnnie Sue.

   When still nobody moved, she stamped her foot.

   "If I don't get to see somethin' REALLY soon I'm gonna strip naked and
dance around right in front of all of you!" she shouted.

   Odd as it may seem to you, the modern reader, that galvanized the boys.
All three of them jerked their hands to their waists and three pairs of
pants dropped to show three pairs of white jockey shorts.

   Johnnie Sue stood, frozen.  Part of her mind hadn't really believed they
would actually do what she demanded.  Her threats had all been bluff, and
she thought they knew it.  She had to make them though.  The frustration of
the situation was driving her crazy.  Now, it appeared as though they might
perform as commanded.

   "The underdrawers too," she said, trying to make her voice sound steely.

   Slowly, almost like in a dream that was in slow motion, the three boys
thumbs went into the waistband of their shorts, and that white cloth slid
slowly down.  Johnny Sue didn't know where to look first.

   "Get together!" she blurted.

   All three boys looked like they were being taken hostage by men with
guns.

   Moses and Jesse hobbled over to stand beside Luthor.  Johnnie Sue wanted
to laugh, because the three boys standing there in shirts, with their legs
bare and pants puddled at their feet looked ridiculous.  But she
instinctively knew better than to show any kind of mirth.  She went and
squatted in front of them, staring.

   Moses' penis stuck straight out.  She noted that almost mechanically,
not thinking about it for now.  Luthor's looked completely different, and
not only because of the pink color.  There was a well-defined knob at the
tip of his, larger in diameter than the rest of what hung there limply. 
Both of the others, though, had a sheath of skin covering the tip.  Johnnie
Sue thought about her dog, Charger, who she had seen breeding bitches
around the house many times.  His was pink, and resided inside a sheath. 
But it was pointy at the tip, and these were round and blunt.  Jesse's was
the smallest, only a couple of inches long, and looking almost forlorn
hanging there.

   "They're so different," she said, awe in her voice.

   "Well of course," said Luthor hesitantly.

   "No, not that," said Johnnie Sue.  "I mean now they're shaped and stuff.
Moses' is hard.  How come yours isn't?" she asked.

   "It gets hard sometimes," said Luthor defensively, feeling like he had
been maligned.

   "Why not now?" she asked.

   "It started to get hard when I looked down your shirt," he said, still
trying to prove he was a man.

   "When you looked at my titties it got hard?" she asked.

   "It started to," he said.  "Then you almost killed me and it stopped.s"

   She looked up at Moses.  "And is yours hard because I showed you my
titties?" she asked.

   He nodded, wide eyed.  He couldn't have said anything if he'd have been
offered a hundred dollars.

   She looked over at Jesse.  "What about yours?" she asked.

   "I'm skeered," he moaned.

   "I'm not going to hurt you," she chided.  "Maybe you don't think my
titties are pretty." she said, sounding mildly disappointed.

   "Sure they are," he gasped.  "They're the prettiest things I ever seen!"

   "So how come yours isn't hard?" she insisted.

   "I don't know," he moaned.

   "Maybe if you saw them again." she said, standing up.  Her fingers went
to the buttons of her shirt and worked them quickly.  She pulled the shirt
open and stood, feeling foolish, in front of the boys.  Their eyes were
glued to her breasts, and for some reason, instead of making her mad this
time, it made her feel better.  Her eyes went downwards, and this time all
three of them were hard.  Jesse's had lengthened amazingly, and was now
even longer than Moses' or Luthor's, even though he was a year younger. 
She was fascinated.  She also noticed that the sheath over both of the
black ones had pulled back a little, and a shiny tip was pushing out.

   "Look!" she pointed at Moses', because he was standing next to Luthor.
"Yours is all knobby," she said to Luthor.  "His isn't."

   Moses, perhaps in some effort to show that they were the same, even
though that seemed stupid, reached down and skinned his foreskin back,
exposing his own knob.  Johnnie Sue gasped.

   "Doesn't that HURT?" she asked, incredulous.

   "No," said Moses, letting go.  He was so hard that the skin stayed back,
creeping forward only very slowly.

   "Do yours!" she said to Jesse.

   Following orders, Jesse pulled on his own prick, exposing the tip.

   "Wow," said Johnnie Sue softly.  "Yours is bigger than theirs."

   "I don't know why," he whined.

   "It's OK," she assured him.  Then she looked confused and glanced at
Luthor, whose eyes were still on her gaping shirt.  "Isn't it?" she asked.

   Luthor's eyes came back up to meet hers and he blushed.

   "I guess so," he said.  His eyes darted back to her chest.

   "You really DO like looking at them," she said, sounding surprised
somehow.

   "I sure do," sighed Luthor.

   "So what happens when they get hard like that?" she asked curiously. 
She knew what Charger did, but she didn't think these boys did that.

   "Ummmm" said Luthor, his eyes suddenly guarded.

   "NOTHIN!" yelped Jesse.  His mother had caught him stroking his hard
penis one time and thrashed him, saying that was heathen behavior.

   Johnnie Sue heard the lie in his voice, and that just fueled her
curiosity.  "Come on," she said, her voice wheedling.  "I don't have one,
so how am I supposed to know."

   "We can't talk about that," gasped Luthor.  He'd been around enough boys
to know that most did what he did when it got hard like that.  It wasn't
hard for him to believe that Moses and Jesse did it too, and include them
in his statement.

   "Why not?" she asked honestly.

   "Cause it ain't proper!" he said urgently.

   "I know what Charger does when his gets hard like that," said Johnnie
Sue.  "You don't find you some dog and stick in her ...  so what do you
do?"

   "JOHNNIE SUE!" yelped Luthor.

   "Well?" she insisted.  "What do you do?  You can't just put it back in
your pants.  It would stick out a mile!"

   "DAMN, JOHNNIE SUE!" yelled Luthor.

   "Don't you curse at me Luthor Cripps!" she shot back, jerking around to
face him full on.  It made her breasts wobble and Luthor felt his knees go
weak.

   "WE RUB IT!" he shouted, feeling like he was going to explode.  "THERE!
ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?  WE RUB IT!"

   Jesse's hand went to cover his mouth, even though he hadn't said a word,
and his other hand tried to cover his bobbing penis.

   "Well why didn't you just SAY so?" complained Johnnie Sue.  She didn't
think rubbing anything could be so horrible.  "What's so bad about rubbing
something?  And why does that help anyway?  You already said it doesn't
hurt."

   "It just makes it feel better," whined Luthor.  "I can NOT believe we're
talking about this!" he went on.

   "Well OK, then," said Johnnie Sue, disgusted now.  She had expected to
find out some kind of secret information, but if all they did was rub the
things that wasn't very interesting.  She buttoned up her shirt.

   "What are you doing?" asked Luthor, his voice choked.

   "I'm covering up my titties," she said, matter-of-factly.  "We're done."

   "What do you mean we're done?!" begged Luthor.  "What about us?"

   Johnnie Sue looked confused for a minute, and then realized they were
all still standing there, all still stiff.

   "Well rub them or something," she said, uninterested now.  "I want to go
look in that attic."

   None of the boys, though, were willing to masturbate in front of each
other, much less Johnnie Sue, so instead of doing that they just pulled up
their pants, folding things as comfortably as possible.  Johnnie Sue
watched.

   "Gee, I guess they don't stick out as much as I thought.  Are you SURE
that doesn't hurt, bending them around like that?"

   "Damn, Johnnie Sue," groaned Luthor.

   "I told you not to curse at me, Luthor," came her calm reply.

   =======================================

   Johnnie Sue, not realizing she could actually have seen something VERY
interesting, had she goaded the boys, tried to bully them into going with
her look into the attic of the mansion.  All three boys set their heels
hard, though.  It was too late that evening.  Harvest was about to start,
and they needed their rest to be ready for long, hard days of labor.  And,
it didn't look good for the next few weekends either.  During harvest, if
the weather cooperated, Sunday didn't mean nearly as much as it did the
rest of the year.

   Johnnie Sue would have to work too, though this year her mother had told
her she'd be working in the kitchen, and taking meals out to the fields,
instead of chopping cotton herself.  She was relieved about that, in one
sense, because chopping cotton was hard work.  Then again, it would mean
she was only with women, which, up to this point in her life, had seemed
almost a punishment.  As she trudged home, disappointed, she thought about
the new power she suddenly had over the boys.  Maybe she could learn
something from the women about how to extend that power.

   Chapter 7

   The Wilson family sat around their dining room table, together, as
usual, for a meal.  As for the children, their recent adventure, though it
had ended badly, still excited them, and their mindset about being around
the other young people they knew, had changed somewhat.  The girls still
had a few Nancy Drew books to read, and had learned that they could order
new ones from the owner at the General Store.  They used their allowance
for that purpose, paying in advance even though it wasn't required, since
that made them feel like the books were closer to being there.

   Nathan, though, was bored again.  He had vague unformed thoughts about
what the others were doing.  He was sure it was more fun than sitting
around the house, or watching television.  The problem was, he had no way
of getting out of the house.  Then he remembered Luthor's fishing pole.

   "Daddy?" he said carefully.  "How come you don't take me fishing?"

   "Fishing?" said Harvey, his voice rising.  "Why on earth would you want
to go fishing?"

   "Well to catch fish, I guess," said Nathan, bottling up the anger that
was already building in his throat.

   Harvey laughed.  "Why would you want to go to all that trouble, and be
out there with the bugs and all that, when you can just pay some nigger kid
a penny per fish?"

   "I'm bored out of my mind, Daddy," Nathan finally confessed.  "I can't
find a job, because there ain't any that you'd approve of.  I just want to
find something to DO." he admitted.

   "You could come down to the bank and learn that business," said Harvey,
importantly.

   "Aww, Daddy, you know I don't have no head for numbers," drawled Nathan.

   Actually, that was no longer true.  Flossie had taught him things that
made math seem a lot easier.  It didn't scare him any more, like it had in
the past.  But being cooped up with his father didn't appeal to him.

   "How much would you pay me?" he asked, knowing the figure would be
small, and that this would give him another reason for not doing it.

   "I already give you an allowance, you scamp!" scolded his father.  "I
wouldn't pay you anything.  You'd just be learning a trade."

   "Harvey," came his wife's warning voice.  "No young man of Nathan's age
wants to be in some stuffy old bank in the summer time.  Let the boy go
fishing if that's what he wants to do."

   "He don't know the first thing about fishing," snorted Harvey. 
"Wouldn't even know how to bait a hook."

   "You could teach me," said Nathan, knowing what the answer would be.  He
doubted his father had ever baited a hook himself.  He had grown up in
Atlanta as a child.

   "I've got more important things to do than teach you how to kill a
worm," said Harvey.

   "There's a kid at school ..." said Nathan, as if he had just thought of
it.  His sisters stopped eating and watched him intently.  "He probably
goes fishing all the time."

   "White trash," snorted Harvey.  "That's all they've got in this one
horse town," he added in a disgruntled voice.

   "He don't seem too bad," said Harvey carefully.  "I think his daddy has
a pretty big farm," he said, having no idea whatsoever how big the farm
actually was.  For that matter, he didn't even know what Luthor's father
did for a living.

   "What's his name?" asked Harvey.

   "Luthor," answered Nathan.

   Harvey frowned.  "Luthor what?"

   "How am I s'posed to know?" said Nathan truthfully.  "I never thought to
ask him."

   "That proves he's trash," rumbled Harvey.  "If'n he was from good stock
you'd have known that and asked."

   "Hell, Daddy," said Nathan impulsively, "he's just a feller."

   "That will be enough of that kind of talk, young man," said Marian,
scowling.  "You can just retire to your room for cursing at the dinner
table."

   Nathan went.  He knew it would be fruitless to argue.  He daydreamed,
lying on his bed, about getting away from this house some way.  Perhaps an
hour later there was a tap on his door, and his mother opened it.  He
looked at her, but said nothing.

   "I talked to your father," she said.  "I figured if you were so upset
that you'd use profane language at the table that something needed to be
done.  You can have this boy teach you how to fish if you want."

   He smiled and she held up a hand.

   "But understand me, I am not going to clean any fish around here.  You
bring them back ready for the pan, you hear me?"

   "Yes, Mamma," he sighed.

   She smiled again, and closed the door.

   ======================================

   Having permission was one thing.  Nathan, though, had no idea how to
contact Luthor.  He didn't know where the boy lived, and didn't want to ask
anyone, out of some misplaced pride.  Instead, he pedaled around town,
which seemed curiously deserted.  He ended up down by the truck depot.

   Catfish Hollow was much too small to have its own cotton gin.  Cotton
had to be hauled to a town twenty-two miles away.  To do that efficiently,
and be able to spend as much time in the fields as possible, the area
farmers formed a transportation co-op.  Cotton was ricked in the field,
which meant it was dumped into a hopper and stomped into long loosely
packed rectangular bales.  Trucks made the rounds of the farms on a
circuit, throughout the day, picking up ricks of cotton that were tagged
with the owner's information, until the truck was full.  Then it was driven
to the gin.  The number of trucks needed varied, so permanent drivers were
not hired.  Mostly, whoever was free at the moment drove the trucks.

   Currently, the weather was good, so no one wanted to abandon the field
to drive truck.  That was how Nathan found himself offered a job, at the
whopping sum of five dollars a day, if he was willing to drive a truck from
first light to pretty much so dark that he had to figure out where the
headlight switch was.  Along the way, though, he found out where everybody
lived.  Mr.  Parsons, who hired him, made pencil marks on a county map and,
after the first couple of circuits, Nathan had it down cold.

   He learned a lot that first day.  He had to help load the ricks into the
truck, which was hot, hard work, because they were so loosely packed that
they'd fall apart easily.  That meant three people had to lift them and
slide them into the truck, if three people were available.  Usually they
weren't.  One person could stomp the ricks.  Everybody else picked cotton.
A rick could weigh anywhere between ninety and a hundred and forty pounds,
and it was hard work, at least for a boy like Nathan.

   He also saw how cotton was picked, and he saw his new friends picking
it. Even Curtis Lee hired on for harvest, to make a little extra money. 
Curtis Lee and Nathan were all that was available to load the ricks at the
Hawthorn farm, where Jesse was toiling in the field beside his father.  As
he drove along, in relative comfort, he began to realize how hard the life
of these new friends was, and that they were not, in any way, shape, or
form lazy.  He already knew they weren't stupid.  Now he wondered what else
they weren't, that his father, and others like him, had always claimed they
were.

   Another small crack grew in his habit of assuming things about black
people.

   He had completely forgotten about the fact that he was gone all day,
until after dark.  His mother was frantic when he got home, and his father
irate for making his mother worry.  His news that he had gotten a job after
all was met with little approval.  Truck driving wasn't lofty enough to
impress his father.  It was a pivotal moment in his relationship with the
man.

   "I don't care," he said suddenly, as his father went on and on about how
lowly working with farm produce was.

   His father stopped, surprised.  "What'd you say to me boy?"

   The first thing Nathan though of was how everybody called blacks 'boy'.
His temper snapped.

   "I said I don't give a damn about what you think!" he said loudly. 
Marian rushed into the room, but Harvey held up one hand.  Two other female
faces peeked into the room.  "I went out and got this job, and I'm gonna DO
this job, and if you don't like it you can go sit in your damn bank and be
mad about it." he raged.

   "Boy," announced his father, unbuckling his belt and pulling at it.  "I
am going to teach you a lesson you'll NEVER forget!" The look on his face
was ugly.

   "I AIN'T NO FUCKIN' BOY!" shouted Nathan, and swung.

   He almost broke his father's jaw.  And his hand.  His fist landed
solidly, almost like a sucker punch would, which was really what it was in
principle.  His father would never had dreamed that his son would strike
him, and therefore was in no way, shape or form prepared for the blow.  He
went down against the table, and flopped limply to the floor, his hands
coming to his mouth.  Nathan stood over him, glaring down.

   "And if you ever threaten me with that belt again, I'll paste you
another time!" he said, his voice hot.

   Harvey sat up, embarrassed.  He looked up at the boy towering over him.
When had the boy put on that weight?  How did he get that tall?  The weasel
in Harvey - and it was pure-bred weasel - realized that he could actually
lose in a contest of strength.

   "You get the fuck out of my house," he said heavily.  "Go on, git!"

   "Harvey," whined his wife.

   "You hold your tongue, woman," he growled.  "If this pup wants to act
all growed up, then he can act all growed up somewhere else.  I'll not have
a boy strike me in my own house and let him get away with it."

   Nathan, still full of anger and adrenaline, stomped to the front door.

   "NATHAN!" came his mother's anguished cry.

   He closed the door softly, not because he wanted to, but because he
didn't want the slamming of a door to be his mother's answer.

   He slept in the truck that night, stretched out on the dusty seat.

   =======================================

   The next morning Nathan, dressed in the same clothes he'd had on the day
before, got out of the truck when Mr.  Parsons opened the door and woke him
up.

   "You slept here?" the man asked goggle-eyed.

   "I just meant to close my eyes nd rest a little.  Guess I was more tired
than I thought," mumbled Nathan.

   "You want to drive today?" asked the man dubiously.

   "Yessir," replied Nathan.

   "Well get started then.  You're already half an hour late.  I was about
to go myself.  Stop at the Thorpe place first, and tell Wilamina I said to
feed you."

   Nathan knew where the Thorpe farm was, of course, but he didn't know
Johnnie Sue lived there.  He hadn't had occasion to see her the day before,
and didn't, until today, know her last name.  When he walked into the
kitchen and saw her, he was surprised.

   "Boy, an apron and everything," he said, grinning.  It had been plain,
even to him, that she was a tomboy.

   "What are you doing here?" she asked crossly.

   "Mr.  Parsons said that somebody named Wilamina would feed me." he said.

   "That's my mamma," said Johnnie Sue, surprised.  "Why in the world would
he tell you that?"

   "I kind of got kicked out of my house last night," said Nathan
sheepishly.  "I'm driving ricks of cotton to the gin over in Stapleton."

   "Oh!" She was plainly astonished.  "Well ...  I have to hear that story
sometime.  Come on, I'll get you a plate.  It's cold by now, but it will
have to do."

   Nathan would never have believed cold bacon and eggs and grits could
taste so good.  Johnnie Sue hovered around him wanting to know what
happened.  He put her off, telling her he had to get back on the road, and
went out to load the first two ricks of cotton that were ready to go.

   =======================================

   Nathan's banishment had great impact in many ways.  It worried him, at
first, but as he drove, he tabulated what he'd make.  When this job was
over, there would be another.  The next time he wouldn't have to worry
about whether or not his father would approve.  He hadn't planned on
leaving home - at all, for that matter - but he was sure he could make a go
of it if he could find work.  Food would be a problem.  He had no idea how
to cook, and had never shopped for groceries in his life.  He'd run to the
store to get something for his mother, but that was it.  Having no place to
stay bothered him more.  He couldn't rent anything.  He had no idea how to
go about it, and didn't have any money anyway.  Sleeping in the truck
hadn't been so bad, but he didn't want to do that every night.  Sooner or
later he'd have to explain that to Mr.  Parsons, and he didn't want to do
that either.

   He was getting gas for the truck when Hilda Mae ran up to him, gasping
for breath, a picnic basket in her hands.

   "THERE you are!" she panted.  "Momma's had me out looking for you all
morning!" She shoved the basket at him.  "Here."

   Inside was his mother's cooking, and it smelled delicious.

   "You OK?" asked his sister, looking uncomfortable.

   "Guess so," he said.

   "Mamma's on a rampage!" said Hilda Mae excitedly.  "She won't cook for
Daddy, and she made him sleep on the couch!"

   "Really?" He didn't know quite how to feel about that.

   "She says if she doesn't get her baby back, he can just sleep on the
couch for the rest of his days." Hilda Mae giggled.

   "I don't think this is so funny," commented Nathan.

   She sobered immediately.  "Of course not," she said.  "But it sure is
interesting.  Daddy's jaw is all swollen up and he says he thinks a tooth
is loose.  I never saw anything like that before, Nathan." She went on,
still excited, if in a subdued sort of way.  "When she was fixing us
breakfast he came in and tried to take food off Bernadette's plate.  Momma
whacked him with a spatula!  She said if he was so pig-headed as to run his
own son off just for getting a job and acting like a real man, he could get
his own food."

   "I ain't going back," he said, suddenly stubborn.

   "Mamma will just die if you don't," said Hilda Mae.

   "I'm not a baby any more," said Nathan.

   "I know that," she said in sympathy.  "Momma knows it too.  She said she
knew you'd leave someday, but she didn't want it to be like that." She
looked at him curiously.  "Where'd you sleep last night?"

   "In this truck," he said, shutting the pump off and hanging up the
nozzle.

   "You can't live in a truck," pointed out Hilda Mae.  "What are you gonna
do tonight?" she asked, moving the cloth covered plate to the seat of the
truck.  She handed him a fork.  He drank the lemonade in the glass and
handed it back to her.

   "I don't know yet," he admitted.  "I'll think of something."

   "I have to go!" she yelped suddenly.  "Mamma doesn't want Daddy to know
she sent you this.  But she told me to tell you to meet either me or
Bernadette someplace every day and she'll send you something.  Where should
we meet?"

   "I don't know," he said unhelpfully.  "I go out of town that way." he
pointed down the street.

   "You go by that white house with the blue trim?" she asked.  He nodded
and she smiled.  "That's the library.  It's a perfect place for us to sit
and wait."

   She hugged him impulsively, and pushed back, wrinkling her nose.

   "I'll bring you some clean clothes too!"

   "Thanks," he said.  She smiled.  "I mean it Hildy"

   "You haven't called me that for almost as long as I can remember," she
said.  She smiled.  "I used to call you Nate ...  remember?"

   "That's just because you couldn't say my whole name," he said, grinning.


   "One of us will be at the library after supper," she said.  She waved as
she ran off.

   ==========================================

   Nathan kept an eye on the porch of the house that held the library, and
on his way back from the gin he saw Bernadette sitting there, on the porch
swing, trying to read a book in the fading light.  He stopped in a cloud of
dust.  When she looked up, she slammed the book closed, and grabbed the
picnic basket.  She was at the door of the truck by the time he got out.

   "Are you OK?" she asked breathlessly.

   "Why does everybody think there must be something wrong with me?" he
asked, grinning.  "I'm fine.  Tell Mamma I'm fine."

   She brought food out of the hamper, along with a milk bottle that was
full of more lemonade and had the top held on by a piece of cloth with a
rubber band around the neck.  There was half a chocolate cake on another
plate.  He licked the frosting off the cloth that was covering it.

   "Don't tell Mamma I did that," he said.  "She'll think I'm starving or
something.  How are things?" he asked.

   "When Daddy came home from the bank she wouldn't talk to him.  She says
things, but it's to the wall.  Like she said you'd probably be murdered in
your sleep or something.  She set a place at supper for her and Hilda Mae
and me, but that's all.  Daddy's stomping around yelling at everybody."

   "You better get back," he said.  "Don't get him mad at you, too."

   "Lunch and supper are about all we can manage," she said, looking
worried.  "Is that OK?"

   "It's great!" He smiled.  "I don't get paid until Friday ...  or maybe
Monday, I can't remember."

   "Oh!" she said, reaching into the basket again.  She pulled out a
wind-up alarm clock.  "Mamma said to give this to you.  She said you won't
get up for work on time without it."

   "Tell her thanks," he said, feeling his eyes start to well up.  He
turned away.  "Go on now ...  get back home."

   "Where are you staying?" she asked, instead of going.  "Mamma's going to
ask me."

   "I don't know yet," he said helplessly.  "Just tell her I'm OK."

   "All right," she said dubiously.  Then she exclaimed again, and dug a
shirt and pants out of the bottom of the basket.  "Bring your old clothes
with you tomorrow," she said.

   She, too, gave him a hug and then ran into the darkness.

   When he got back to the depot, Mr.  Parsons was waiting for him.

   "There's a cot in the volunteer fire barn," he said, pointing to a
flat-roofed building with two sliding barn doors on the front of it.  "It
would be a lot more comfortable than sleeping in that truck.  Crapper in
there too.  Water.  Refrigerator used to work, but it's been unplugged for
years.  I don't imagine anyone would grumble much if'n you was to bunk in
there for a spell.  Just until things settle down and you can go back
home."

   "Uh ...  thanks," said Nathan sheepishly.  "How'd you know?"

   Parsons pulled out a pocket watch and looked at it.  "Oh, word gets
around in a small place like this.  You can bet on that."

   "I appreciate it," said Nathan.

   "Ain't doin' it fer you," said Parsons, putting the watch away.  "You're
a decent driver.  I don't want to have to hunt you up in the mornings. 
That's all."

   "Still, I'm thankful."

   "There's a lantern just inside the door on a nail, and matches on the
shelf above that." Then the man just waved over his shoulder as he walked
off.

   Nathan got the food out of the truck and took it into the building. 
There was a fire truck inside, that took up most of the room.  He looked it
over and decided it was beautiful.  It had to be from the thirties, and was
covered with a layer of dust.  Under that was bright red paint and brass
that could use some polish.  But that would have to wait.  He ate, washed
up, set the alarm clock and fell into bed on a canvas cot in one corner.

   ========================================

   In the end, it only lasted five days.  On the fourth day of Nathan's
career as a truck driver, his father magically appeared at the gas pump as
Nathan was filling up the tank.  He stood by the hood, looking at his son.
There was still a dark purple bruise on his jaw.  Nathan looked back, but
said nothing.

   "You just had to go and tell everybody I kicked you out," said his
father.

   "I didn't tell anybody anything," said Nathan.  "It's none of their
business."

   "You're God damned right about that!" said his father loudly.  "Somehow
everybody in this dump found out about it though.  I'm a laughing stock."

   "What do you want?" asked Nathan.

   "You're to come back home," said the man, his voice tight.

   "Why?" asked Nathan.  "You're obviously embarrassed by me."

   "That doesn't matter," said the man, not denying it.  "Your mother wants
you home, and I'll get no peace and quiet until you get there."

   He didn't mention it would be nice to have a home cooked meal again. 
Hilda Mae had told Nathan that their father had been taking his meals at
the cafe in town twice a day.

   "I'll think about it," said Nathan.'

   "You'll come home, like I tell you!" said his father, angrily.

   Nathan faced him.  "I'm not afraid of you any more.  I have a job.  I'm
making money.  There's more work to be done when harvest is over, and I
don't really care any more what kind of work it is.  At least I don't have
to listen to you bellow like a sick cow."

   "I'll disown you!" warned his father.  "And don't count on any more
secret help from your mother or sisters either.  I found out about that and
I'm putting a stop to it!"

   "You touch a hair on the head of my mother, or my sisters, and you'd
better start carrying a gun," said Nathan, his voice just as ugly.  "I'll
put you in your grave if you hurt any of them!" He took a step toward his
father.

   Harvey, like most bullies, was mostly bluff.  When someone actually
stood up to him, he had no real stomach for a fight.

   "I'd never hurt them," he said, backing up.

   "You just make sure you don't," warned Nathan.  "If I come back there it
will be for Mamma, and not you.  I don't give a damn about your money.  You
can keep it." He got back into the truck.

   "What'll I tell your mother?" asked Harvey.

   "Tell her I'm thinking about it." said Nathan, and he drove off.

   About eleven the next morning it was his mother who was waiting for him
on the library porch.  Miz Hopkins was sitting with her and they were
chatting.  He almost didn't stop, but he knew he had to.  She didn't run to
him, like his sisters did.  She waited, calmly, sitting next to the
librarian.  Nathan got out of the truck.  Mrs.  Finchley, the worn looking
wife of a rail thin man who worked twenty acres of cotton for the owner,
had given him a straw hat, to shade his eyes, and he took it off as he
walked up to the porch railing.

   "Hi, Mamma," he said, feeling sheepish for some reason.

   "Good morning, Nathan," she said with dignity.  "How are you?"

   "I'm OK, Mamma," he said.  He suddenly felt ten years old again.

   "I have your lunch," she said simply.  Miz Hopkins got up off the swing,
saying she had things to do inside.

   "Are you OK, Mamma?" he asked, looking her over.  "Daddy didn't hurt you
or anything ...  did he?"

   She looked away.  "That's nonsense.  He's just upset.  That's all."

   "I'm sorry about all this, Mamma," he said.

   She sat regally for a few seconds.  The only thing that showed how much
emotion was coursing through her body was her fingers, picking at the
wicker of the picnic basket.

   "You have nothing to be sorry about," she said.  "You're growing up, son
...  as much as it pains me to admit it ...  you're growing up.  But I
don't think it's time for you to be out on your own yet."

   "Daddy says you want me to come home," he said.

   "I do," she said simply.

   "I don't know if I can," he said softly.  "I mean with Daddy there and
all ..."

   "You let me handle your father," she said.  "All this extra cooking and
slinking around is tiresome."

   There were whole paragraphs that she said with her eyes, things that a
dignified Southern woman didn't want to say to her son in public.  Her hand
trembled on the handle of the basket.

   "OK, Mamma," he said, feeling relief.

   "You'll be home tonight, then?" she asked, her voice wavering a little.

   "Yes, Mamma," he said.  "It will be late, though.  I drive until after
dark."

   "That will be fine," she said, lifting the basket to the porch railing.
"You can just bring this with you.  I'll have something warming on the
stove for you."

   "Thank you, Mamma," he said, tears in his eyes now.

   "Oh, go on!" she said, waving her hand at him.  Tears were about to
spill out of her eyes too.  "At least I got to meet Mrs.  Hopkins because
of all this.  She's a delightful woman."

   "There's a lot of nice folks around here," said Nathan.  "I've been
meeting them on my job.  Folks I wouldn't have ..." He stopped.  "They're
just nice folks," he finally said.

   "I'm glad to hear that, dear," said Marian.  She wiped at one eye
surreptitiously.  "Now go on.  You have cotton to gin, or bales to bundle
or something like that."

   That made Nathan grin.  He knew a whole lot more about how cotton was
grown, harvested and refined than his mother did, and she'd been a
Southerner her whole life.  That made him feel good.

   Chapter 8

   Harvey Wilson chose to go to bed early that night.  He wasn't up when
Nathan came wearily through the door.  His mother was sitting up, the TV
on, but it was turned down too low to hear.  When she saw him she stood.

   "Dinner is on the stove.  Please try not to make too much noise as you
clean up.  Your clothes and all are right where you left them.  Do you need
me to get you up?"

   He held up the alarm clock in one hand.

   "I have this.  It's been getting me up the last week.  I'm kind of used
to it by now."

   "That's fine, dear," said Marian.  "I'm going to bed now." She turned to
leave, and then turned back around.  "Thank you," she said.

   "What for?"

   "Never mind that.  You need a bath.  You smell like a horse or
something."

   "OK, Mamma," he said.

   He went into the bathroom and began running hot water in the tub.  He
thought that was strange, since it had been a scorcher that day, but the
thought of sinking into hot water almost made him salivate.  He wanted that
before food, even.  He had just dropped the last of his clothing when his
sisters pushed the door open and tiptoed in.  Looking astonished, he
covered his dangling penis.

   "What in tarnation ..." he started.

   "Shhhhhhh" interrupted Bernadette, looking back over her shoulder
through the open door.  She pushed Hilda Mae into the room and closed the
door softly.

   "You can't just come in here when a man is naked!" he whispered.

   "Oh, why not, we've seen you before," said Bernadette.

   Hilda Mae was staring at him, speechless, he thought.  Then she said
"Not like this!" softly.

   "We had to SEE you!" whispered Bernadette.

   "Well now you've seen me, so you can leave," he said huffily.

   "Oh, just get in the tub.  We want to hear all about it!"

   It was plain they weren't going to leave, so Nathan did exactly what she
suggested.  He groaned as he lowered himself into the water slowly.  He
hadn't had time to put enough cold water in it.  Both his sisters stared at
his penis as it slowly vanished under the water.

   "Don't STARE at it!" said Nathan.

   "SHHHHHHH!" hushed Bernadette.  She looked at the door.  "If they catch
us in here there'll be hell to pay!"

   "That's exactly why you should leave!" he croaked.  The water felt good,
and he lay back in it.  Hilda Mae leaned forward, looking down through the
water until Bernadette slapped her arm.

   He had already told them much of his life away from home, but they
peppered him with questions, interested that he had seen their friends, and
asking him all about them.  When he told them that Johnnie Sue, Luthor,
Moses and Jesse had all told him to tell them hello, they giggled
excitedly.

   "Imagine that," said Bernadette, "A Negro telling you to say hello to
us!"

   "I've seen a lot," said Nathan, shaking his head.  In just a single week
I've learned a lot.  "I almost don't think of them that way any more."

   They talked on.  Bernadette opened the door to check on things outside
and Hilda Mae leaned forward again to peer into the water.

   "What are you looking at?" asked Nathan, covering his genitals.

   "Nothing," she piped.  She leaned back, looking disappointed.  "The
water's too dirty anyway."

   Bernadette was back at the door, a worried look on her face.

   "You better come," she said to Nathan.  "I think Daddy's hurting Mamma!"

   Water went everywhere as Nathan bounded out of the tub, his legs rubbery
from the heat.  No one stared at his flopping penis now, though, as he
grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.  He found both girls by
the door to their parents bedroom.  Thumping sounds were coming from the
room ...  rhythmic thumping sounds, as if someone was raising something
heavy and then slamming it down.  Nathan had visions of his mother's
lifeless body being slammed against the wall.  His hand went for the
doorknob, and, just as he touched it, his mother's voice came clearly
through the door.'

   "OHHHHH YES!  HARVEY!  OH DON'T STOP ...  GIVE IT TO ME BABY!"

   It was very clear to all of them that what would, in a later generation
or two, be called "makeup sex" was going on in that room.

   He jerked his hand away from the knob as if it were red hot.  His face
flushed, and he looked at his sisters, who stood frozen, open mouthed,
their own faces turning bright red.

   The thumping went on as they stood there, unable to leave.  Their father
roared and their mother wailed, but all the other sounds stopped.

   Nathan broke first, taking a step backward.  He froze again as a board
creaked under his foot.

   "What was that?" came his father's tired voice.

   "Nothing," came their mother's voice, dimly through the door.  "Suck on
them some more, Harvey, you know that drives me wild."

   The three teens tiptoed carefully back from the door.  The girls faces
were ashen now.  They looked almost ill as they thought about what all
those sounds had meant.  Hilda Mae's eyes glanced down, and her hand came
up to slap over her mouth, her eyes wide.  She pointed at Nathan's crotch.

   He looked down to see that, where the towel gaped slightly open in the
front, his erect penis was jutting out, hard as a rock.  He heard
Bernadette gasp.

   ===================================

   That pretty well ended the reunion, at least until the next night.  The
girls scampered to their room, leaving Nathan to shake his head in disgust.
His penis stayed rock hard as he gathered up his clothes and drained the
tub.  He sopped up the water in the bathroom with the towel and his dirty
clothes, and walked naked to his room, as quietly as he could.  He put on a
pair of jockey shorts, and then backtracked quietly to the kitchen and
wolfed down supper before returning to his room.  The food was good, but
his penis stayed stiff.  All he could think about was what was going on in
his parents' bedroom.

   He felt guilty for masturbating, but it was the only way his penis would
go down.  He felt even more guilty because the anonymous woman in his
imagination had no face, but her body was his mother's.

   ========================================

   In the girls' room, Hilda Mae and Bernadette sat on their beds, facing
each other.

   "Did you SEE it?" gasped Bernadette.

   "Yes!" whispered Hilda Mae excitedly.  "It looked HUGE!"

   "It sure looked bigger than when we first went in," said Bernadette,
shaking her head.  "How did it GET that way?"

   "I don't know," said Hilda Mae.  "I wish I could see it again."

   "HILDY!" gasped her sister.

   "Well, I do," said Hilda Mae softly.  "And I bet you do too.  I saw you
staring at him."

   "Not like YOU were!" said Bernadette.

   "It made me feel all funny inside," said Hilda Mae, closing her eyes. 
"Those noises ...  and Mamma screaming like that ...  and what did she mean
for him to suck on them some more?  Suck on what?"

   "I don't KNOW!" said Bernadette, flushing.  "But I DO know that we
shouldn't be talking about this!"

   Bernadette chased her sister into bed, and they turned out the light. 
Bernadette had never told her sister about how sometimes, she just felt the
urge to touch herself.  It felt so nice to stroke here, and pinch there. 
She felt like that tonight.  She knew exactly what Hilda Mae was talking
about ...  the feeling funny inside part.  And, while she wouldn't admit it
to her sister, she at least admitted to herself that that thing sticking
out from her brother's towel had looked SO interesting that she'd had to
tense up her muscles to keep from reaching for it ...  just to see what it
felt like, of course.  It had looked so soft and flabby at first, but when
it stuck out like that it was four or five times bigger.  It just looked so
...  interesting, somehow.

   She wanted to rub ...  to feel good.  But Hilda Mae was tossing and
turning in the bed next to her, still awake.  She knew that sometimes she
made noises when she rubbed.  She couldn't help it.

   Quite suddenly she heard a rhythmic squeaking through the wall in
Nathan's room.  It was an even tempo at first, then speeded up until she
heard him grunt, and then sigh.  It was the same tempo she used to rub
herself.  In a flash of insight, she knew what he was doing over there.  He
was rubbing that thing, like she rubbed between her legs.

   It took both girls a long time to get to sleep.  Both tossed and turned,
but neither spoke of it to the other.

   ==========================================

   Because Harvey Wilson couldn't take out his frustration on his son, or
other members of his family, he took it out in other ways.

   He was careful, because the things he did had the potential to make it
look like he was making unwise loans.  Automation and mechanization in
farming was creeping southward, though, and the possibility for increased
yields also promised the possibility of increased profits.  He gave loans
to the trash he hated so much, to purchase tractors, cotton strippers, and
the new module system for compacting cotton so it could sit outside in the
open and not be spoiled by rain.  He knew quiet well that some of the
farmers he was granting loans to were over-extending themselves.  When they
couldn't pay their notes, he foreclosed with glee, selling the equipment,
and sometimes the entire farm put up as collateral, to other farmers, who
sought other loans, perhaps that THEY couldn't repay.

   On paper he looked good, though no really great sums of money were
coming in.  That was because there was a very limited supply of money
available in those parts.

   That he was putting people out of their homes, and taking farms that had
been in their family for generations, he didn't care about.  They were
trash, and didn't deserve to have what they couldn't hold.  Harvey wasn't a
man who believed that man evolved from monkeys, with the possible exception
of niggers, but he embraced "survival of the fittest" like a long lost and
very wealthy uncle.

   With some of his profits, Harvey branched out into real estate.  The
first thing he bought was the house Flossie Pendergast lived in.  It was
property of the county, on the books as such, and the price he offered so
outstripped the "estimated rental value" on the books that the county
commissioners gleefully signed over the deed to him.

   He evicted Flossie as soon as he had the papers in his hands.

   "I'm going to fix the place up," he said smoothly, when he handed her
the eviction notice.  "Rent it out.  It's nothing personal, of course," he
smiled an oily smile.  "It's just business."

   "Perhaps I could rent it," said Flossie, knowing what he was doing.

   Of course the price he set on that was far above the "estimated rental
value" on the county books, and far outside her resources.

   When the "negotiations" broke down, Harvey smiled again.  "I've got
workmen hired to start right away.  You need to be out by tomorrow." He
turned on his heel and left.

   She couldn't move by then, of course, and the men who came simply set
her things on the front porch.  The electricity was shut off, along with
the water.  The lock was the first thing they changed.  They took the keys
with them to lunch.  They didn't come back.

   When she approached the town fathers, most of whom were busy with the
harvest themselves, and reminded them that they had promised her a place to
live as part of her salary, they hemmed and hawed.  One man spoke.  "Don't
know why we don't just forget the whole thing.  You DO own a house in this
town, you know."

   What he was referring to was where Flossie had grown up.  Her father had
never owned anything in his life, except that house, and the only reason he
was able to buy it was because it was basically worthless.  It was actually
a single story barn, when he bought it, back in 1934.  But he had a wife
and baby, and needed some place to live.  The man he worked for didn't want
to pay cash wages, so he gave Jasper Pendergast the barn, in exchange for
eighty hours of work per week for the next five years.  Jasper couldn't
read, or do math, so he had no idea what that barn was costing him.  All he
saw was that, in five years, he'd own it.  That he had to work extra, and
his wife too, to get the cash to buy food and anything else they needed,
was just life.  After the five years, he had sunk all the extra cash he
made into fixing the place up, which meant putting real furniture on the
dirt floors, and getting electricity run to the place eventually.  He
hadn't been able to put in an indoor toilet until Flossie was seventeen. 
There was still a hand pump for water in the kitchen.  All the work had
finally killed him while Flossie was in her last year of college.

   Flossie had been overjoyed when she found out a house went with the
teaching job, and had tried to get her mother to live with her there.  Her
mother wouldn't leave.  It was her home, such as it was, and her husband
had given his life for it.  As it turned out, her mother didn't last long
without her husband.  A year after Flossie returned, her mother was dead
too, and the "house" sat empty.  Flossie had paid the taxes on it, but
there was no market for it.  She hadn't known what to do with it until now.


   "That house isn't fit to live in and you all know it," she retorted to
the men grouped in front of her.  "And it was part of my contract that a
house would be provided."

   In the end, they simply raised her salary by the "estimated rental
value" of the house she had just been evicted from - the one on the county
books, of course.  The only place she had to go was the house that held
such unhappy memories for her.  At least it was a roof over her head, and
some place dry to put her things.

   She kept an eye on the house Harvey had bought out from under her.  It
sat empty and unused for the rest of the summer.  It WAS eventually
refurbished, by adding another layer of wallpaper to the six that were
already on the walls.  It was rented to Jasper and Melinda Hobbs, a young
white couple that got married and had been living with Melinda's folks. 
The rent was seven dollars lower than the "estimated rental value" on the
county books.

   She wasn't the only person in town who saw what Harvey did, to her and
to others.  Harvey Wilson became a feared man in Catfish Hollow.  He also
became a hated man.

   ======================================

   Because of the cotton harvest, school started later in Catfish Hollow
than in the North.  Flossie's first session didn't start until mid
September, and even then the half day schedule was rigidly adhered to. 
Both Nathan and Curtis Lee were gone in the afternoons, and Flossie's only
students then were Hilda Mae and Bernadette.  They rode their bikes to
school every day now, instead of demanding to be driven in the car.  Nathan
did too, so he could get to work quickly from school.

   Talk about "the banker" had spread among adults, and children overhear
what adults talk about sometimes.  All of the children except the Wilson
children knew what Harvey had done to Flossie during the summer, and there
was some transferred hostility against Bernadette and Hilda Mae.  Nathan,
by virtue of his having left home, and working on the harvest, was exempt
from that hostility.

   The girls could sense it, of course.  They had expected to pick things
up where they had been left off after the great adventure.  They expected
to be treated like 'friends', and when they weren't, they wanted to know
why.  That was how THEY learned what their father had done.

   On that first afternoon, when everyone else was gone, and lunch had been
eaten, Flossie pulled out a book titled "Ann of Green Gables".  They had
finished "The Wizard of Oz" the previous year.  Before she could talk about
it, Bernadette spoke.

   "We're sorry," she said uncomfortably.

   "About what?" asked Flossie.

   "Daddy," said Bernadette softly.

   "Oh," said Flossie.

   She didn't really want to talk about it.  It still made her mad, and she
didn't want to be mad in front of these girls.  It wasn't their fault.  She
had heard about Nathan's situation, from the Thorpes.

   "Thank you," she said.  "I'm sorry there has been trouble at home for
your family too."

   "Oh, that's not so bad, I guess," said Bernadette.  "Daddy and Nathan
still don't talk, but that's about it.  Nathan has changed.  He's nicer."

   Flossie offered them the book, which got the girls going on the Nancy
Drew mysteries they had read during the summer.  They hoped that she would
approve of those as reading practice.

   "I read one of those when I was a little girl," said Flossie.  "I
remember it as being great fun.  I think that's a great idea."

   "Oh goody!" said Hilda Mae.  "We have 'The Haunted Showboat' on order
down at the General Store.  I can't wait until it gets here."

   In the mean time, Flossie started them on "Ann of Green Gables".  Within
an hour they were hooked on that one too.

   ===================================

   Time went by.  Two of the younger children were taken out of school when
their parents' farms were seized by the bank, and the families had to move
north to find work.  Their land went to larger farmers, who needed it to
raise their own production, to pay for the equipment they had bought.  All
it did was put them deeper into debt, since it would be long before another
harvest would bring in real money.

   Just before the Christmas break, during a class on careers, Nathan's
future was discussed, along with that of Curtis Lee, both of whom would
graduate at the end of the year.  Requirements for graduation were ... 
flexible ...  in the sense that the state usually took a rural teacher's
word for it that a student had met all the requirements.  Curtis Lee had
just turned nineteen, so his graduation was practically a requirement. 
Flossie had let him keep coming to school, on the excuse that he had
started late.  The truth was that she liked having him around to help with
the children and keep him learning.  But he should have graduated the year
before, by rights.  Nathan would be eighteen by the end of the school year,
and called himself a Senior.  Hilda Mae said she was a Sophomore, and
Bernadette said she was a Junior, though those designations hadn't been
used in that school before.

   "So, what are you going to do after you graduate?" Flossie asked the two
oldest students.

   Curtis Lee had no idea, but the recent ride in an airplane had started
him dreaming about doing what Daniel did.  Flossie said she'd write to her
uncle and see if he had any advice, or could help in any way.  She turned
to Nathan and asked him if he was going to college.

   "I don't know," said Nathan, dubiously.  "I don't know how much it
costs."

   "Sometimes parents pay the tuition for college students," Flossie
suggested.

   "I don't think that will happen," said Nathan, embarrassed.  While all
of them knew what had happened to him that summer, he didn't know they knew
that.  "I thought about being a doctor for a while, but you have to go to a
lot of college for that I think." He frowned, then smiled.  "When I was
little I always wanted to be a policeman," he said.

   "Well, they have academies where they teach men to do that," said
Flossie.  "You could fill out applications for whatever cities you might
want to do that in and send them in.  If you're accepted they'll send you
to the academy.  I understand that's part of your pay, so it wouldn't cost
you anything."

   "Really?" he said, amazed that it could be that easy.

   "Your homework assignment is to call, or write to three Police
departments and ask them to send you applications." said Flossie.

   "Why is it that only boys get to have exciting jobs like that?" asked
Johnnie Sue.

   Flossie nodded.  "It used to be that way everywhere, but in some places
they are starting to hire women to do things that men have done in the
past. The war taught business a lesson about the capabilities of women. 
She then described the importance of women in the manufacturing industry
during the war, and how they even built ships and planes."

   At the end of her lecture she said "You could do anything you set your
mind to.  Have you thought about going to college?"

   "Women don't go to college," sighed Hilda Mae.  "Not in our family
anyways." She looked morose.  "Mamma says we're going to grow up and give
her lots of grandchildren for her to spoil.  Who wants to do that?" she
finished sadly.

   "I do!" said Bernadette firmly.  "I can't WAIT to ..." She clapped a
hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

   "To do what?" asked Nathan, grinning for some reason.

   "Nothing!" said Bernadette vociferously.  "I just don't mind getting
married and giving my Mamma grandchildren, that's all." She was blushing so
hard that even her brother noticed it.

   "I know what you're thinking about," crowed Nathan loudly, grinning from
ear to ear.  "Maybe I should tell Mamma about it when we get home.  She'll
have Daddy tan your hide good!"

   "You just keep your peace Nathan Wilson!" barked his sister, standing up
in her agitation.  She was so agitated that she blurted out something else.
"You were there too.  You heard them, and I heard you through the wall too,
after that!  I've heard you do that lots of times, grunting like some
animal, and ...." She stopped suddenly, and there was a hush in the room as
everyone looked, first at her, and then at Nathan, who was either blushing
himself, or was angry.

   Flossie almost goggled.  She was shocked that Bernadette would make an
outburst like that when it was plain as the nose on her face that she was
talking about her brother masturbating.  She was shocked that anyone would
make reference to that out loud.  But, the fact that Bernadette KNEW what
her brother was doing, combined with her obvious almost reference to being
impatient to have sex herself, suggested that the girl was much more aware
of things sexual than Flossie would have believed.  She was aware that her
students had some knowledge of sex.  Living around farm animals almost
guaranteed it.  But the conservatism of the region also guaranteed that it
would not be mentioned ...  at least not in mixed company, and CERTAINLY
not when both races were present.

   "Well!" said Flossie, clearly flustered.  "We'd best move on.  There are
some things we don't talk about in school."

   "Why not?" asked Luthor.

   "Well, because of the younger children, for one thing," said Flossie,
looking meaningfully at Luthor.  "And because I can't think of a single
parent who would appreciate us talking about that in school."

   "Talking about what?" piped Leon, an eight year old.

   "Sex, dummy," came a voice that couldn't be identified.

   "What's sex?" he asked, his voice high and piping.

   "Something your parents won't talk about," said Ruth Ann.  Ruth Ann was
sixteen, but was usually so quiet that people forgot she was in the room.
Everybody was looking at her, surprised she had spoken.  "Most parents
don't think a young'un should know anything about sex, like it's a big
secret or something," said Ruth Ann.  "My mamma and pappa have sex all the
time, after I go to bed, but they pretend they don't."

   "Oh!" squealed Leon.  "You mean ...  THAT!"

   "Now hold on there," said Flossie, flustered at the topic of
conversation.  The proverbial cat, however, was out of the bag, and did NOT
want to go back in.

   "Why IS it that we never get to talk about sex?" asked Hilda Mae.  Her
sister slapped her on the arm.

   Flossie's mind whirled.  She had a long history of thinking about the
very same thing.  Men had tried to woo her in college, but back then she
had no time for men.  Learning and being free to be herself was everything
to her at that time of her life.  Only since then, when there suddenly were
no handsome young men chasing after her had she realized how she had turned
up her nose at something she now missed a great deal.  She knew what those
young men had wanted to do with her.  Sometimes they had even whispered it
in her ear, their bold suggestions making her shriek with modesty.  There
had even been a course on teaching a new idea, called "Sexual Education",
as part of a class on health, but it had been downplayed by her
instructors, who said it was very controversial in many places.  The
material for such classes had been available to view, and she had done so,
curious herself.  It had put pictures in her mind of something that, until
this time, she had only sketchy knowledge of herself.

   But, though she knew intimately the mechanics of the sexual act now, she
had never had sex with a man.  Instead, at night in her bed, she thought
about those things, and her fingers found the places on her young body that
felt SO good when she thought about sex.

   "Miss Flossie?" a voice broke her concentration.

   "Er ...  yes?" she cleared her mind.

   "So can we talk about sex?" asked Luthor.  Johnnie Sue slapped HIS arm,
for some reason, and he drew back, looking injured.

   "Not now," she said automatically.  Then, without thinking, she went on.
"As I said, that's for older children only."

   "So us older ones can talk about it ...  later," said Ruth Ann.

   Flossie felt panic.  Had she promised something?  She couldn't remember
what she'd just said.  Trying to get out of it she extemporized.

   "There IS some thought, at higher levels in education, to include some
sexual education in a class on health.  But I don't think it would work in
this school.  It's very controversial."

   "What's that mean?" asked Bernadette.

   "It means that a lot of parents don't want their children to learn
anything about sexual education," said Flossie.  "Your parents would
probably be outraged at the very thought of you actually learning about
sexual behavior ...  even as part of health class" She wanted to wring her
hands, she was so nervous.

   "So, when we get to have health class we'll get to learn about sex?"
asked Leon.  Like many young people he had filtered everything and heard
only what he wanted to hear.

   "See what I mean?" said Flossie, trying to look indignant.  "You older
students might have the maturity to be able to understand such things, but
the young ones should not be exposed to it ahead of their time." She
frowned, hoping she had gained some time to think about how to get out of
this.  "If word of this gets back to your parents before I can make proper
plans, I'll be fired, and no one will ever get the class."

   "I want that class!" said Hilda Mae.

   "Me too!" came a chorus of other voices ...  many of them down around
Leon's age, which was clearly too young to delve into that subject.  She
looked around to see Luthor and Jesse sitting up straight, their eyes
bright.  Johnnie Sue even looked interested, though not quite so much. 
Curtis Lee's face was something to study.  He had a half grin on it, and a
look of horror because his voice was one of those who had exclaimed "Me
too!" and he knew enough to know that such a thing said in front of a white
girl could cause him great pain and suffering.

   Flossie couldn't let this get out of hand.  She had to make them
understand that, as curious as they were, it was too dangerous for them to
discuss it openly.

   "Look," she said patiently.  "You all know that there's tension between
the races.  We've talked about it.  I'm colored, and some of you are white.
The fact that this even came up in school today ...  that I mentioned some
schools are teaching sexual education ...  could cause a LOT of trouble. 
You have to understand that.  Even if you went home and told your parents
that somebody asked about sex, and I refused to discuss it, it would cause
trouble.  Besides that I haven't planned out any such course.  I saw
something about it in college, but there is just no way that we can discuss
this openly in THIS school."

   Flossie half expected Nathan Wilson to stand up in triumph, with the
full knowledge that she had handed him a rope to hang her with.  His
reaction, therefore, was something amazing to her.  He did stand up, but
his comment almost made her fall off her chair.

   "But if you had time to make plans ...  and the parents didn't know
about it ..." said Nathan, of all people, "we could have the class later?
The older ones, I mean?"

   "That's not FAIR!" called out Leon.

   Flossie had no idea what to do now.  She would do almost anything if
word of this didn't leak out.  It was that that made her make the fateful
promise.

   "If the parents don't find out even a WHISPER about this ...  I'll see
what I can do."

   Nathan was still standing.  He put his hands out, straightening up to
his full height.

   "Listen to me, everybody!" he said.  He was the closest thing to a white
man in the room, and the response was automatic.  They listened.

   "Not a word of this leaves this school.  If I find out anybody said even
one word about ...  health class, I'll give you a whuppin'." Nathan looked
around, catching each student's eyes, young and old.  "You understand
that?" He frowned.

   Flossie's nervous "Now Nathan ..." was interrupted by a chorus of voices
saying "Yes sir!"

   Chapter 9

   Flossie held her breath throughout the Christmas Break.  She expected a
mob to gather outside her house any minute, and haul her out to be tarred
and feathered.

   But nothing happened.  She spent the break trying to figure out how to
put wall paper on uneven board walls, with gaps between the boards, and
reading an old book on plumbing from the library to see if she could learn
how to extend the city water from the toilet to the kitchen.

   When school started back up, though, it was the first question that was
asked.

   "Are we going to have a health class?" asked Minnie, a ten year old
black girl.

   "I haven't planned it yet," said Flossie, irritated that the subject had
been refreshed so quickly.  There were groans.

   "Now, listen to me," said Flossie, putting her hands on her hips.  "Sex
is very serious business.  That's why only adults do it.  You are children,
and I will NOT do this until I think you're ready.  You can moan and groan
about it all you want to, but you be patient!"

   The chorus of "Yes Miss Flossie" was there, but there wasn't much energy
behind it.

   School went on, and Flossie DID try to plan out how to give such a
class. She knew now that there would have to be something for every age
group, or whoever got left out would squawk.  By the same token, she had no
clear idea of how much to say ...  or withhold from each age group.  She
had already learned that some of the students were a lot more aware of
sexual things than she would have believed.  What she remembered about the
subject from college was that the reproductive cycle of plants and
non-human animals was discussed, with the assumption that children would
then be able to make the transfer to human sexuality.  There had been a
list of films that were recommended, but she had no access to those, nor
equipment on which to show them.  The only direct references to human
sexual behavior had been about the supposed dangers of masturbation, for
the boys, and about teaching girls about modesty and control of sexual
urges.  Flossie knew about trying to control her own sexual urges.  It was
impossible.  When she got aroused, for whatever reason, the only way she
knew to bank that fire was with her fingers.  Apparently that was even too
taboo for college classes, because the only references to masturbation had
been concerning boys.  The other taboo subject had been birth control.  It
was actually illegal to discuss that in some states, and the recommendation
had been not to approach it at all.

   She wished now that, during the Christmas break, she had gone on a trip
to one of the big city schools, and learned what they were doing.  But she
hadn't.  And now she was stuck.

   She sat down one night, and wrote up a lesson plan for the younger
children.  She used hemp as her example, since every household had a rope
lying around.  The seed of the plant was the "baby".  Those grew into
either male, or female plants.  Bees and the wind carried the pollen from
the male plant to the female plant, which then produced more seeds.

   From that point, she had no idea where to go.  So, on impulse, she just
tried it as it was written.  The next day, she announced that the older
children would read, outside in the fresh air, while the younger children
had health class.

   You would have thought a bomb had exploded.  There were, of course, the
objections of the older children, but Flossie was adamant that the youngest
students would take the class first.  Then there was an argument about who
was young and who was old.  Flossie stopped that with one question.

   "Which of you girls have started your monthlies?" she asked.

   There was dead silence.

   "What's a monthly?" asked Bessie, who was nine.

   "If you have to ask, you haven't started yet," said Flossie.  "You go
over there in that corner of the room."

   Bessie stood up, looking hurt somehow and moved.  Mariah, who was eight,
stood up and went with her.  Lucinda and Janet, both seven, followed when
Bessie beckoned to them.  Johnnie Sue, Ruth Ann, Hilda Mae and Bernadette
were left.

   "You four go stand in that corner," she said.  The girls, all of them
blushing, went quickly.

   With the younger boys, she took a different tack.  She called them, one
by one, to an unoccupied corner and whispered in an ear.

   "Do you know where babies come from?"

   She got answers from some of them like "The stork brings it ... 
excepting I've never seen a stork before." Another boy said his little
brother came from a pumpkin patch.  Those she sent to the corner with the
younger girls in it.  Leon, of course, was the one who caused her trouble.
He was eight, but his answer was simple.  "Mamma had my little sister in
the bedroom.  Ellie was in Mamma's tummy, and they got her out in the
bedroom."

   "But do you know why your Mamma had Ellie in her tummy?" asked Flossie.

   "I asked her about that," he said seriously.  "She told me she wanted to
have a sister for me, and Daddy gave her one.  She wouldn't tell me where
Daddy got a baby to put in her stomach, but I saw them one night.  Ellie
woke up and was crying, and Mamma didn't come, so I went to get her.  Daddy
was lying on top of Mamma nekkid and thrashing around.  I asked them what
they were doing and Mamma said Daddy was trying to give her another baby.
Daddy yelled at me, though, and I had to leave before I could see how he
was doing it."

   Flossie decided that she'd put him in the younger group, but she was
nervous about it.  Her description of pollination didn't match up too well
with what he'd seen.

   Jesse said "Like a dog?  Kinda?" He went to the older group.

   She shooed the older children out, and drew the plants on the board.  As
soon as that was done she went to the door quickly and opened it.  Hilda
Mae and Luthor jumped away from the window, where they had been pressing
their faces against it.

   "Told you so," came Curtis Lee's laughing voice from out in the yard.

   She didn't have to say anything.  She just glared at them as they
scuttled back to the shade under the tree in the yard, where the others sat
with an open book.

   ======================================

   "So," said Leon, when she was done.  Before she could say anything, he
went on.  "When I saw Mamma and Daddy in the bed, he was giving her his
pollen?"

   Flossie blinked.  "Well, for our purposes, yes ...  that's exactly what
he was doing."

   Then the other children wanted to know what Leon was talking about, and
things went downhill.  He, of course, was almost eager to tell them what
he'd seen.

   "I seen my parents doing that too!" said Otis, who had said his brother
had come from a pumpkin patch.  "They yelled at me too!"

   "That's because sex, when it happens with adults, is a very private
thing," explained Flossie.  "You don't run around naked in front of people
do you?" All of them shook their heads agitatedly.  "Well, sex needs to be
done naked, like the plant needs to be standing in the wind, and that's
what makes it private."

   In the end, she was amazed at how easily they accepted the "facts" she
gave them.  Bessie had wanted to know about "monthlies" again, and Flossie
had just said it was a time her mother would talk to her about when it
happened, and that it just meant she was growing up and getting ready to be
a woman.  That was taken with a nod, and just like that, the class was
over.

   It had gone so well she was amazed.

   ========================================

   Of course, with the younger kids out of the way, the older kids began to
pester her endlessly.  The success of her first attempt made her feel a
little better, but she knew she'd have to give the older children more than
hemp plants.  That they already seemed to be aware of masturbation, at a
minimum, required that.  That they also seemed to be familiar with what
Leon had described ...  and knew much more about what was going on in those
situations, made her feel like she would have to talk about things that
even embarrassed HER.  She knew there was a balance to be struck.  She just
didn't know how much weight to put on each side of the issue.  Because of
that, she planned her presentation very carefully.

   The best laid plans very often DO go awry.  That's certainly what
happened to Flossie.  Part of it was because some of her students were MUCH
more advanced, at least compared to Flossie, than she would have dreamed.
But probably the biggest thing that blew her careful presentation out of
the water was that the time she finally decided to give the class just
happened to come at a point in the growing season where there was little,
if anything, for the children to do.  That meant their afternoons were
free.

   She had planned on talking to Ruth Ann privately, to "preview" the
course.  Then, while she gave the course to the other teens, Ruth Ann would
be asked to take charge of the little ones, reading, or doing simple math
or whatever.  She explained her plan to them, so they would understand why
Ruth Ann got the privilege of having the class first.

   But, when the kids determined, between themselves, that they could all
stay late, after the younger children had gone, they demanded that their
health class be given then.  They sensed that they would be much more free
to ask questions, if the little ones were nowhere around.

   Flossie was therefore flying blind, once more, on the fateful day when
the class was scheduled to be given.  She had eight VERY attentive students
when they settled into desks that had been rearranged into a circle.  A
psychologist might have smiled when he saw that, once everyone had settled
into a seat, somehow, the circle had males on one side, and females on the
other.

   Trying to set a light atmosphere, by making a joke, Flossie asked: "As
you may have heard, it is widely said that many of you were brought to your
parents by the stork." She waited for laughter.  There was none.

   "Or were found in a pumpkin patch." she added, uncomfortably.

   "Miss Flossie, if all you're going to do is tell tales, I don't see the
point in this class." said Johnnie Sue somewhat flippantly.  There were
grumbles of assent from many of the others.

   Flossie pushed on.  "Well, that's what some children are told.  It is
not true, of course.  Who knows how babies are actually made?"

   The students all looked at each other, but nobody spoke.  There were no
snickers, though.  This was all being taken very seriously.

   Flossie was suddenly unable to launch into the physical description of
what brought about the fertilization of a woman's egg.

   "OK, well, then, let's start by using the example of the hemp plant,"
she said, slipping back into the familiar.  She went through it, and they
actually listened.  When she was finished she said: "Are there any
questions so far?"

   Luthor raised his hand.

   "But people don't have pollen," he said.  He looked around his body like
he expected to see dusty flakes of pollen on him somewhere.

   "They have sperm," said Ruth Ann.  She blinked, as if she were surprised
she had spoken.

   "That's right," said Flossie, happy beyond belief that someone else was
talking too.  "The man has sperm.  It acts in much the same way as pollen
does.  When the sperm comes into contact with a woman's egg, it can
fertilize it, and a baby is made."

   "Women don't lay eggs!" blurted Moses.

   No one made fun of him.

   "That's true," said Flossie.  "A woman's eggs are up inside her body, in
a special place.  They don't actually come out like they would in a
chicken, and even if they did, they're so small you couldn't even see one
without a microscope."

   She had to explain what a microscope was then.  She described it as a
very strong magnifying glass.

   "But how does the sperm get inside the woman, then?" asked Jesse.

   "Well ..." began Flossie, turning darker, "It comes out of the man's
penis." She stopped.  There were no snickers, only intent looks.  Everyone
seemed to know what a penis was.  "Um ...  while the man's penis is inside
the woman's ...  vagina," she went on nervously.

   Everyone stared at her.  Now there were some questions in their eyes.

   "Does everyone know where a woman's vagina is?" she asked.

   Two of the girls looked down.  The boys just stared at the girls.

   Moses raised his hand.  "I THINK I know ...  but that's not what I heard
my Daddy call it."

   Everyone shifted in their seats.  Flossie was afraid to ask him, but she
couldn't think of anything else to do.

   "There are slang names for the body parts," she said hesitantly.  "You
probably heard a slang name, Moses."

   "What does 'slang' mean?" asked Luthor.

   "That's another name for something, instead of using the scientific
word," said Flossie.

   Johnnie Sue raised her hand.  "Like 'root'?" she asked.  "Is that a
slang name for pense?"

   "It's pe-nis," said Flossie, making the correction unconsciously.  "Yes,
I suppose root is a slang name for penis."

   "How about 'peter'?" asked Ruth Ann.  "Mamma pulls at my baby brother's
when she's giving him a bath and asks him how his little peter is."

   That got snickers.

   "Yes, that's slang," said Flossie, holding her hand up.  "Sometimes
people are uncomfortable using the scientific name for something.  They'd
rather use a slang word."

   "I always thought those were dirty words," said Jesse.  "I mean I heard
'em before, but everybody always whispers them and such ...  or yells at me
if I use 'em."

   "They're just words," said Flossie.  "How about if we talk about all of
the slang you've heard, and we can get more comfortable with those words."

   To be honest, she was just trying to keep the children talking.  She
hadn't thought about using slang in her class.  Had she been white, her
face would have been flaming within a minute.  Various children brought out
all kinds of words, including "Weenie", "Prick", "Dick", "Cunny", "Muffy".
"Pussy", "Coochie", "Woody", "Cunt", "Gash", "Balls", "Nuts", "Rod" and
"Hardon".  By the time each one was identified by the person who blurted it
out, the mood in the room had lightened quite a bit.  One of the ones that
brought real laughs was Luthor, who said "Handle." Then when asked what
that meant, he more or less blurted out "My Mamma told me one time to quit
playing with my handle." Then he put his head in his hands as they laughed.

   "No, no!" said Flossie, stopping them.  "Masturbation is one of the
things we need to talk about.  Let's not make fun of Luthor.  It's a common
problem.  Some of the other boys may have felt the urge to do that too, at
one time or another."

   That stopped the laughter cold.  At least on the part of the boys. 
Bernadette pinned her eyes on her brother and grinned.  He looked down.

   "Problem?" asked Moses.  He looked very uncomfortable.

   "Well," said Flossie.  "Many people believe that masturbation is
dangerous.  Some people believe it can cause blindness, or hair to grow on
the palms."

   All four boys pulled their hands up and stared at their palms
automatically.  There was a moment of suspended time, and then gales of
laughter from the girls.  The boys dropped their hands, almost in unison,
putting them under the desk.  They looked sheepish, staring down at the
desks.

   "Let us see!" squealed Hilda Mae.

   "I DON'T have any hair on my palms!" said her brother with a surly
voice.

   Flossie made them quiet down.  Bernadette's hand went up.

   "Miss Flossie, why do boys do that anyway?"

   "It makes it feel better," said Johnnie Sue, remembering what Luthor,
Moses and Jesse had said to her.  She looked up to find everyone staring at
her.

   "How do you know that?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "I don't know," said Johnnie Sue uncomfortably.  She was getting dark
looks from the three boys who knew exactly how she knew it.  "I heard it
somewhere, I guess." To draw attention away from herself, she asked a
question.  "So if they do that ...  how come they don't have any hair on
their palms?  And they're not blind either."

   The boys tried to object, but Flossie put her hand up.

   "I told you people BELIEVE that.  I'm not so sure it's true."

   "So what DOES it do?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "I think it just brings some sexual release," said Flossie.  "Both men
and women can become sexually excited.  Sex is part of nature, and it is
perfectly normal for a man and woman to be sexually attracted to each
other. It is, after all, how babies are made, and that keeps the species
going.  And that kind of sexual attraction makes changes in your body ...
creates tension.  "

   Ruth Ann raised her hand.  "My Pappa gets all full of energy when he's
going to lie with Mamma.  They do it all the time, and he can be real tired
from working all day, but when they go to bed he's jumping around and full
of energy."

   "Yes, that's what I'm talking about," said Flossie.

   Nathan spoke up.  "Back in Atlanta, some of the boys used to say they
were horny." He hadn't been sure what they meant back then, but
instinctively knew not to ask them, because he instinctively knew he was
expected to know.

   "Yes," said Flossie, looking at the floor.  "Sexual excitement is
sometimes called being horny."

   "I've heard my daddy use that word too," said Jesse.

   "Is that why a boy's root gets hard?" asked Johnnie Sue, leaning
forward. "Is that one of the changes that happens when they want to have
sex?"

   "That's a very important change," said Flossie, wondering how Johnnie
Sue knew that.

   "How did you know that too?" asked Hilda Mae, looking suspiciously at
the girl next to her.  Then, for some reason, she looked at her brother. 
The look of suspicion was still on her face.  He wouldn't look back at her.


   "Never mind that," said Flossie, not wanting to put anyone on the spot.
"The point is that, when a boy gets to be about twelve, his testicles start
making sperm, and the penis gets stiff when his body gets sexually excited.
In sex, the sperm is released into the woman.  But boys can't have sex, and
masturbation helps the sperm come out so there is some sexual release."

   "Huh?" asked Jesse, looking confused.

   "What?" asked Flossie.

   Jesse ducked his head.  "Nothing.  I don't want to say," he said meekly.

   "Listen, children," said Flossie.  "The whole point of having this class
is so you understand things better.  We have to let each other ask
questions, and not make fun of anybody who does.  Otherwise we can't have a
fruitful discussion." She looked around.  The faces were sober now.  "I
think masturbation is more prevalent than people think ...  maybe even a
normal thing." said Flossie, feeling dread in her guts.

   "Really?" asked Moses.  Nathan's eyes asked the same question, and so
did Luthor's.  Jesse looked back up, hope on his face.

   "Really!" said Flossie.  "I think it's just something that helps a boy
out because he's too young to have sex." She looked around.  Then she
looked back at Jesse.  "Now, you may ask your question if you wish, Jesse."

   He still looked uncomfortable, but eventually he worked up the courage
to almost ask.  "Mines doesn't ...  I mean nothing ever comes out ..."

   "How old are you, Jesse?" asked Flossie.

   "I turned twelve last month," he said, as if she should know that.

   "Your body just isn't making any sperm yet," she said gently.  "There's
nothing wrong with you."

   "But it still gets hard," he said, confusion plain on his face.

   "Wait a minute," said Ruth Ann, looking confused.  "When Mamma pulls at
my baby brother's, it gets stiff too, sometimes!  He's just a baby!  He's
way too little to have sex!"

   "Just because his body is immature doesn't mean that it doesn't work,"
said Flossie.  She didn't know for sure what she was saying was true, but
she didn't want to sound ignorant either.  "As I said, a penis is made for
having sex.  It actually has two functions.  It gets rid of some of the
waste inside a body - that's urination - and it is used to deliver the
sperm into the woman's body.  That's all it's for.  And it will work that
way from the very beginning."

   "Even if there's no sperm yet." said Jesse, sounding relieved.  He had
thought there must be something wrong with him.

   "So," said Johnnie Sue, "How come it gives them release if nothing comes
out?"

   "I don't know," admitted Flossie after an extended period of trying to
come up with something.

   "Can we ask Jesse?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Why me?" he said, his eyes opening wide.

   "You're the only one who admitted doing it," said Hilda Mae like it was
obvious.

   "Luthor did too!" whined Jesse.

   Hilda Mae glanced at Luthor.  "OK, then, can we ask Luthor?"

   "Let's not make anyone answer any questions they might be uncomfortable
with," said Flossie, flustered at the directness of the girl's interest in
male masturbation.  "Let's move on."

   "So girls can't masturbate," said Luthor suddenly.

   "What?" asked Flossie.

   "Well they don't have a peter, so they can't masturbate ...  right?"

   The boys looked at the girls, all of whom were blushing furiously.  You
could even see it on Ruth Ann's dark face.

   "Well ..." said Flossie, embarrassed.  "I'm not sure we should talk
about that."

   "Why not?" asked Moses.  "You talked about us boys!  It's not fair to do
that and not talk about the girls too.  How DO girls get rid of sex
tension?"

   Flossie wanted to moan.  But he was right.  It WAS only fair.

   "You're right, Moses," she said weakly.  "There's a place on a woman ...
next to her vagina ...  and if it is ...  rubbed ...  it can bring about an
orgasm."

   "Orgasm?" That was from Ruth Ann, and it surprised all of them.

   "An orgasm is what you call the release of sexual tension," said
Flossie. "In men, it signals the release of the sperm through the penis. 
In women, it makes them feel tired, so they'll want to lie down for a
while."

   "Why?" asked Jesse.

   "If you look at a horse, or a dog or something like that," explained
Flossie, they walk on all fours.  That means the vagina is parallel with
the ground.  When sperm is put into one of them, and they walk away, the
sperm stays right where it is.  But a human woman walks upright, and if she
gets up and walks around after the sperm is put into her, it will just run
right back out.

   "So THAT'S why I don't have a hundred brothers and sisters!" exclaimed
Ruth Ann.

   "What?" asked Flossie.

   "My mamma and pappa have sex almost every single night," she said. 
"Whenever I see dogs doing it, the bitch always gets pregnant with puppies.
I kept wonderin' why mamma wasn't pregnant all the time.  I guess it's
because she almost always gets up and walks around when they're done. 
Daddy lays there like he's dead, but Mamma gets up."

   "Mine too!" said Luthor, looking excited.  "Almost every night, I mean."
There were looks of almost agreement from others in the room.

   "Well, yes, that would help to keep a woman from getting pregnant, I
suppose," said Flossie, who hadn't thought of it in those terms before.

   They wanted to talk more, but it was getting late, and Flossie put them
off.  Every one joined in making her promise that the class would go on
again the next afternoon.  With a sigh, she agreed.

   Chapter 10

   Luthor, Jesse and Moses were walking together.  For the first half mile
or so, they went in the same direction to get home.  They were animatedly
comparing notes on whether anything came out when they rubbed their
penises. Moses had bashfully said that his squirted all the time.  Luthor
said he wasn't sure, because sometimes something clear and shiny came out
of the little slit in the tip, but whenever that happened he stopped, in
fear that he was hurting something.  Moses was telling him that that was
normal, and happened to him too, when they heard running footsteps behind
them and looked to see Johnnie Sue sprinting to catch up with them.  When
she arrived, and fell in with them, the conversation stalled, and things
seemed strained somehow.

   They walked on in silence for a few minutes.  They came to Moses'
turnoff and he waved an uncomfortable goodbye.  When he was out of hearing,
Johnnie Sue took a breath.

   "So," said Johnnie Sue, kicking at a dirt clod.  "That time ...  when
you guys saw my titties ...  and you got all hard and stuff ...  does that
mean you wanted to have sex with me?" She frowned, and went on without
letting them answer.  "Cause if that's what that meant, well, you can just
forget it and rub your root all night, cause there's no way I'm letting you
have sex with me!"

   Luthor stopped cold.  "I wouldn't do that to YOU, Johnnie Sue," he said,
looking astonished.

   Men never understand women.  Not when they're older, and particularly
not when they're younger.  Luthor had no idea he had stung his best friend
by rejecting her as a potential sexual partner so vociferously.  For that
matter, Johnnie Sue didn't understand, herself, why what he said made her
so suddenly angry.

   "Why NOT?" she barked, balling up her fists.  "What's wrong with ME?"
She whirled on Jesse, who was looking at her like she had grown an extra
head.  "And I suppose YOU hate me too!"

   "I don't hate you, Johnnie Sue!" squawked Jesse.  "You're my blood
brother!"

   "But you think I'm ugly or something and don't want to have sex with me
either, I bet." she said, grinding her teeth.

   "Johnnie Sue ..." Jesse gasped.  "I'm a nigger."

   "You are NOT!" she exploded.  "You're my friend, and I don't have any
nigger friends." She looked confused at her outburst.

   Jesse looked at his arm, and then back at her out of the side of his
eyes.

   "You feeling OK Johnnie Sue?" he asked, plainly looking at his black
skin.

   "I don't know," she moaned suddenly, stopping.  She looked at Luthor. 
"How come you get stiff when you see my titties, but you think I'm too ugly
to have sex with?"

   "I didn't say that," said Luthor, holding up his hands.  "You're just my
blood brother, like Jesse said.  You can't have sex with your blood
brother."

   "So I'm not ugly?" she asked, her voice curiously lacking inflection.

   "I guess not," said Luthor.

   "You GUESS?" she asked, her voice rising.

   "What do you want me to say?" he moaned.  "If I told you I have dreams
about you you'll hit me with a stick!"

   "You have dreams about me?" Her voice sounded surprisingly happy.

   "Um ..." said Luthor, trying to figure out the right answer.  "Once."

   "Just once?" She sounded disappointed.

   "Maybe several times," he admitted.

   "What am I doing in the dreams?" she asked.

   "I can't tell you that!" he squeaked.  "You'll hit me with a stick!"

   "Come on, Luthor, I promise not to hit you," she promised.

   "Really?" he begged.  "You promise ...  for sure?"

   "I promise," she said firmly.

   "Well ..." he paused, getting up his courage.  "After ...  after I saw
them," he looked at her chest and then jerked his eyes away.  "I had this
dream about us, back when we were skinny dipping ...  but you were grown up
and you had them ...  in the dream, I mean."

   Jesse gasped, and they both looked at him.  He looked ready to run, and
scared to death.  His eyes darted everywhere but at either of them.

   "What in the world is wrong with you?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "I can't say," he choked out.

   "Come on, Jesse," said Johnnie Sue patiently.  "I promise not to hit you
with a stick either."

   "I'm a nig...  It ain't right for me to think things like that," he
groaned.

   "You're my blood brother," said Johnnie Sue.  "You can think anything
you want." Her eyes narrowed.  "Did you have a dream too?" she probed.

   He rolled his eyes, looking terrified.  Johnnie Sue grabbed his wrist,
fearing he was about to bolt, and he stared at her hand, wincing.

   "I'm not going to hurt you, Jesse," she said soothingly.  "Nobody will
hurt you.  This is all between blood brothers.  You can say it."

   "Every night," he choked, tears suddenly streaming down his face.  He
wiped at them and sniffed, rubbing his nose too."

   "You dream about me every night?" she asked, amazement in her voice.

   He looked at her fearfully, and nodded fractionally.  "J-j-just like
Luthor said," he moaned.

   "Skinny Dipping?" she asked.

   "Uh huh," he admitted trying to jerk his wrist out of her grasp.  She
held on tight.

   "It's OK," she said.

   "Really?" The hope in his eyes shone like the sun.  "You're not mad?"

   "If I tell you something, you have to swear you won't ever tell anybody
ever!" she said, her voice lowering conspiratorially.  She looked at both
boys, grabbing Luthor's wrist too.  They stared at her.

   "Promise!" she demanded.

   They nodded, and apparently that was enough for the girl.  She let go of
both of them.

   "After you guys saw my titties ...  and you got hard and all ...  I had
some of that ...  sexual excitement in me I think.  I felt all jittery and
when I got home ...  I had to ...  had to ...  I rubbed my special spot."
She looked down at the ground.

   "You masturbated?" gasped Luthor in a loud whisper.

   "I told you guys to rub yours ...  and then I had to rub mine," she said
softly.  "I couldn't get to sleep until I did it."

   "Wow," said Luthor.  "Me too."

   They looked at Jesse.  He nodded, still a little fearful.  "But nothing
came out," he said, as if that would excuse the actions that, if adults
knew he had taken - and who he was thinking about when he took them -
they'd horse whip him for.

   Luthor looked down at his pants with a look of almost horror on his
face.

   "I have to go!" he gasped.  He put his hand on the growing lump in his
pants.

   "Are you getting hard again?" asked Johnnie Sue, the interest on her
face plain, along with what most anyone would see as a look of pleasant
surprise.

   He nodded.  "I'm sorry.  It's just that when I think about you doing
that ...  it just happened.  I'm sorry Johnnie Sue, honest!"

   "It's OK," she said suddenly.  "I don't mind."

   They stood there for a few minutes, and Johnnie Sue said "Do you need to
rub it now?"

   "I think so," he moaned.

   "You want me to turn around?" she asked.

   "I can't do it with you here!" he yelped.

   "Why not?" she asked.

   "Aren't you still mad at me?" he asked, instead of answering her
question.

   "I guess not," she said.  "I thought I'd be mad if you thought I was
pretty, but I'm not.  Isn't that weird?" She looked confused.  "In fact, I
think I might have some sexual excitement in me too, cause I feel all ..."
she tapered off.  Her eyes went out of focus and she stared off into the
distance.  Then, quite suddenly her eyes cleared and she looked from one to
the other of her best friends.

   "You want to do it together?" she asked.

   "Do what together?" asked Luthor, his eyes widening.

   "Rub," she said simply.  "You rub yours and I'll rub mine."

   "You'd do that?" asked Luthor, sounding like he'd just heard that a
space ship had landed and little green men from Mars had climbed out to
pass out ice cream.

   "If we all did it at the same time, we'd still be blood brothers," she
said patiently.  "We'd be doing it AS blood brothers."

   They had done other things together as blood brothers, from fishing, to
stealing apples from Thompson's orchard.  They had arranged for Harvey to
have flat tires together, and had decided that all three had to handle the
skunk that they had trapped, and which had ended up in the Wilson's house.
It suddenly seemed like the obvious solution to something that was driving
them apart.

   Luthor unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, pushing his underwear
down to expose his already hard phallus.  His hand went to it immediately,
and slicked up and down in a loose grip.

   "Wait for us!" squealed Johnnie Sue, and she pushed her own jeans down
to her ankles, her panties soon following.  Both boys stared as her wispy
red colored pubes were exposed.  The last time they had seen her naked was
long before she had any hair there, but they hadn't paid much attention
then.  They had just played in the water, dunking each other and playing
tag.  The lips between her legs were tight and smooth, making a mere crack
in the skin, and neither boy could tell there was anything but hair there.
Having examined their own penises closely, they were used to seeing
something sticking out down there.  It looked so wrong to them, somehow,
that they were almost horrified by it.  At the same time they were seeing
something that, after Flossie's class, now meant a great deal, and they
were overwhelmed with curiosity.

   "I don't see nothing there to rub," said Luthor, his voice shaky.

   "It's kind of inside a little bit," said Johnnie Lee.  Of the three, she
was actually the least embarrassed by all this.  She had seen them before,
but after the health class they'd just had, their equipment was much more
interesting.  She looked at Jesse, who was standing frozen, his eyes wide.

   "Come on, Jesse," she said.  "We can't do it until you're ready."

   "I c-c-c-cant," he stuttered.

   Johnnie Sue hobbled over to him, and knelt in front of him.  Her hands
flashed to his belt and had it undone before he could even react.  His
hands jumped to hers, pushing at them.

   "Noooo" he whimpered.  "I cain't do this Johnnie Sue!"

   "Yes you can," she said patiently.  "We're blood brothers, and I want to
rub right now, so you have to rub too."

   Jesse was the youngest.  He was also the only black member of the group.
He was used to doing what his blood brothers said to do, and he was used to
doing what white people said to do.  His hands fell limp as Johnnie Sue
manipulated his pants and pulled them roughly down.  His penis was hard.

   "See?" she said excitedly.  "You're ready to rub, too.  Come on Jesse."

   Still he stood there, out of his league and in something like terror.

   "You want me to rub it for you?" asked Johnnie Sue, and she grasped the
thing in front of her.

   That unfroze the boy, who jumped back, tripping as the pants tangled his
legs.  He went down backwards, breaking his fall automatically with his
hands behind him.

   "JOHNNIE SUE!" he yelped.  "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

   "Well, then, start rubbing," she said.  Her mind was whirling.  In the
brief seconds she had her hand around his penis, she had felt the sensation
of soft, warm and hard all at the same time.  There was nothing on her body
that felt like that.  In fact she couldn't think of anything else in the
world that felt like that.  She used the same hand she had grabbed him with
to slide one slim finger into the split between her legs and pulled on it,
to bring pressure to that special spot, a little bump that she loved to
press against.  She looked down at Jesse while her face underwent a
transformation from a frown to a dreamy smile.  "You want to see my boobies
again?  Would that help?"

   Just the thought of seeing her breasts galvanized Jesse, and his right
hand went to his penis, to begin stroking quickly.  She heard Luthor hock a
lugey and turned to see the spittle in his hand as he wrapped it around his
own stiff prick and started stroking just like Jesse was doing.

   "How come you did that?" she asked, beginning to breathe deeply.

   "It makes it slippery," he panted.  "Can I see them, Johnnie Sue?"

   The girl looked confused for a second and then realized what he was
talking about.  She stopped just long enough to unbutton her shirt and
shrug it to the ground.  Then her hand went back between her legs.

   "This feels so gooood," she moaned.

   "It sure does," panted Luthor, his eyes glued to her teen tits.

   Johnnie Sue backed up, hobbling as she went.

   "Where are you going?" asked Luthor, as if he was afraid she was going
to disappear.

   "I want to see you both," she panted.

   Luthor sidestepped in small steps closer to Jesse.  "Don't go," he said.

   "I'm not," she panted.

   Jesse was the first to feel that special feeling that a boy or man
feels, an almost unbearably sweet pain along the center of the penis that
demands something to sooth it.  In Jesse's case, the lack of semen made
that crescendo a kind of addictive agony, until suddenly, he couldn't bear
to keep rubbing.  Instead he squeezed as hard as he could as the tingles
faded away and he suddenly felt like he couldn't lift a simple stone.  He
lay back on the ground, and his hand relaxed as he gasped for air.  His
penis wilted almost immediately.

   That didn't seem odd to Johnnie Sue in the slightest.  She knew what
that tingle felt like, and, other than things getting a mite slipperier
down there, when the wonderful feeling passed, she felt much like Jesse
looked.  As such, she wasn't really prepared when Luthor started making
choking noises and his hand started flashing madly along the length of his
stiff prick.

   He arched over backward and froze, his hand close to his body as a long
groan burst from his lips.  The tip of his prick was plainly visible when a
thin stream of something milky white burst out of the tip and arched into
the air, covering a distance of three feet.  It was almost immediately
followed by another stream, which went half a foot less, and then a third
that only went about a foot.  His hand moved again, and he looked like he
was milking a cow, squeezing and moving his fingers, making drips string
down from the tip.  The look on his face was one of pure amazement.

   Johnnie Sue realized she was seeing sperm for the first time, and that
set her off.  Her eyes went wide and she made a keening sound, high
pitched, but forced in time with her frenzied breathing.  With a series of
little "Eeee...eeee...eeee" sounds she felt the luscious release - she
recognized it as true release now - wash over her body and make her feel
limp.  She staggered, trying to spread her legs for balance, but her jeans
got in the way.  She had to squat, instead, and her finger slipped up into
her body, causing a sharp pain.

   "Owwwwww," she whimpered, jerking her finger out and staring at the
blood on it.

   "I cut myself!" she said, disbelief in her voice.  She stood up.

   "Huh?" gasped Luthor, as Jesse sat up.  He had been frantically looking
between his penis, which had just shot stuff for the first time in his
life, and Johnnie Sue's hand between her legs.

   "I cut something!" she squeaked.  "I'm bleeding!"

   Luthor bent over and pulled up his pants and underpants together.  He
moved to his friend and she showed him the blood on her finger.

   "I poked it inside me on accident and it hurt and there's blood," she
said, sounding worried.

   He bent down, peering at the spot between her legs, and she
automatically spread her knees and squatted a little bit.

   "I don't see anything," he said, staring at the slit that he could now
see clearly.  It was a deep shade of pink on the edges, but it didn't look
like blood.  "Are you sure?"

   She shoved her finger into his face, and he smelled something he had
never smelled before.  In addition to that smell, there was a smear of
bright red.  It was definitely blood.  Instead of looking back at her
pussy, though, he took her hand and turned it, inspecting the finger
itself. She jerked it out of his hand when she realized what he was doing.

   "I didn't hurt my finger!" she said.  "It hurt up inside me."

   "Well, I don't see anything," he said stubbornly.  "You don't have blood
anywhere except on your finger."

   Jesse got up and pulled his pants up too.  Johnnie Sue pushed Luthor
back from her and bent to get her pants and panties up.  She felt the sore
of an injury inside her as she moved around.  '

   "It still hurts up in there.  I think I hurt something." she said
worriedly, reaching for her shirt and shrugging back into it.

   "Well, whatever it is, it don't bleed much," said Luthor.  Suddenly he
grinned.  "That's the very first time anything ever came out of mine. 
Thanks, Johnnie Sue."

   "What for?" she asked, bending over to get her shirt and slip back into
it.

   "For making us do that.  That was the coolest thing I think I ever
done."

   Her face got animated.  "It WAS fun, wasn't it.  I couldn't BELIEVE it
when that stuff shot out of your root.  Didn't that HURT?"

   "No!" he gushed.  "There isn't anything in the whole world that ever
felt as good as that."

   Johnnie Sue turned to Jesse.  "How about you, Jesse?  Did you have fun
too?"

   He shook his head.  "If'n my folks ever found out I did that I'd get a
whippin' that would just about kill me," he said.  Then he smiled, shyly.
"It sure was fun, though."

   Johnnie Sue felt an almost overwhelming feeling for her two best
friends, and she reached out and pulled them both against her, one with
each arm.

   "You guys are the best friends anybody could ever have," she said,
squeezing them both as they grinned.

   "Even if we want to have sex with you?" asked Luthor.

   Johnnie Sue pushed them both away and whirled around.

   "Where's a stick?" she shouted.  "I need me a stick to whack a couple of
nasty BOYS with!"

   She spied a broken branch on the ground and darted for it.  Both boys
whooped and started running.  She paced them, staying just out of reach
with the stick, which would have snapped had she actually hit them with it.
But she yelled and whooped and swung, threatening them both as they laughed
and darted this way and that, always coming back together to run, side by
side, best of friends.

   ====================================

   Eventually they had to split up to go their separate ways.

   "You guys want to meet me at the creek tonight?" asked a panting Johnnie
Sue.  She tossed the stick to the ground.

   "You want to go fishing?" asked Luthor.

   "I thought maybe swimming," she said softly.  "An hour after supper?"

   "O-KAY!" both boys shouted together, bouncing with excitement.

   All of them knew, somehow, there would be no swim suits involved in the
swimming that night.

   Chapter 11

   =========================================

   While Marian and Harvey had made up over the "tiff" involving their son,
he was still more or less withdrawn from the family.  Like many men who
think power will make them happy, had Harvey taken the time to evaluate
things, he would have realized that he was not happy.  Even then, he
wouldn't have been able to put his finger on just what the burr under his
saddle was.  Harvey Wilson didn't have much in the way of philosophical
musings in his life.  He was used to making up his mind about what he
wanted, and then getting it.  While that was happening, more or less, at
work, the only thing he was getting at home was sexual submission.  Even
that wasn't as satisfying as it could be, since his wife was such a wanton
little thing in bed.  He didn't have to conquer her that way.  But in all
the other ways he wanted to 'rule' at home, he was frustrated.  But, as was
already said, he didn't think about that.  All he did was get meaner.

   His children, though, went in the complete opposite direction.  The more
they saw of the world, and the people that populated it, and the more they
learned about life, the more they questioned the social tenets they had
been taught as children.  They were, for example, excruciatingly aware that
the health class they had just attended had broken all kinds of social
rules, at least as they had been taught those rules.  Still, what they all
felt was glee ...  glee at having been able to confront a mysterious and
troubling subject in the open light of day, with somebody around who
actually knew the answers, even if she didn't seem to want to give them up
all that easily.  And the promise that they would learn even more in the
days to come made them almost giddy with the excitement of getting that
information.

   When the kids got home that day, they were still digesting the
information they had gotten in health class.  They were unusually quiet as
they sat down at the kitchen table for their regular after-school snack.

   "Mighty quiet in here," commented their mother.

   "Long day," said Nathan.

   "After all that working for sixteen hours a day, you think sitting in
school is a long day?" she asked curiously.

   "Work is different ...  I guess," said Nathan.  He was wary.  Like most
children he was aware that parents seem to have eyes in the back of their
heads sometimes, and the thought that his mother might somehow find out
about the class, and jerk them out of school, worried him a lot.

   "So," said their mother, just making conversation.  "What did you study
in school today?"

   All three children squirmed in their seats.

   "Oh, just some history, and reading ...  stuff like that," said
Bernadette, shooting warning looks at her siblings.

   "Oh?  What kind of history?" asked Marian, still just trying to make
conversation.

   "Did you know a Negro woman invented that thingy that they use at the
beauty shop to curl our hair?" blurted Hilda Mae, dredging up the first
thing she could think of that might head the conversation away from what
they actually studied that day.

   "You're joking!" laughed Marian.

   "No!  Really!" said Bernadette, climbing on board anxiously.  "It's
true. Her name was Madame something or other, and she invented a whole
bunch of creams and powders ...  Oh, I can't remember the right word for
them ..."

   "Cosmetics?" asked their mother, turning to face the girls.

   "YES!" squealed Hilda Mae.  "She invented cosmetics!"

   "What in the world does that have to do with history?" asked Marian,
flabbergasted.  "If it's even true."

   "It's true!" said Nathan, leaning forward in the back seat.  He too was
trying to keep the subject going.  "Miss Flossie has a book and its full of
pictures of people who invented things."

   "So it's Miss Flossie, now ...  is it?" asked Marian.  "When did THIS
happen?"

   There was an uncomfortable silence in the room.

   "It almost sounds as if you like this ...  teacher."

   "She's OK," said Nathan, sensing trouble.  "I mean she talks about all
kinds of things, and sometimes it's interesting."

   "I see," said Marian.  "And does she ever say anything good about a
white person?"

   "Oh sure," said Nathan as carelessly as he could.  "All the time."

   "Such as," probed their mother.

   "Well, Eli Whitney, for example.  He invented the cotton gin."

   "Well everybody knows that," snorted Marian.

   "I didn't," said Hilda Mae, trying to help out.  "Not until Miss Flossie
taught us that."

   "Hmmmm," mused their mother.  "I must learn more about what this ... 
Miss Flossie ...  is teaching you.  Your father insists you're not learning
anything of value.  Perhaps I should find out for sure."

   She pulled her apron off.  "I had to go to the market today, so I have
the car.  I need to pick up your father.  Bernadette, if you'd start the
beans cooking that I left on the stove.  I've already put a roast in the
oven.  Hilda Mae, I need to teach you how to make biscuits.  It's high time
you girls started helping out around here.  You need to learn to cook and
sew and such or you'll never catch a husband." She looked at her daughters,
both of whom were looking back at her with startled expressions.  As Marian
left, Bernadette heard her mother say something else.  "As if you could
find anything around here anyway."

   "What, Mamma?" asked Bernadette leaning out into the other room.

   Her mother jerked her head around to face her daughter.  "What?  Oh ...
nothing, dear.  I was just talking to myself."

   ============================================================

   The Wilson siblings weren't alone for two minutes before they were
whispering about their mother's suggestion that they weren't learning
enough in school.  They had stopped talking about school at supper, because
it usually got their father on a rant.

   "What are we gonna do?" asked Bernadette.  "I don't want to have to quit
going to school now!"

   "Just answer her questions," said Nathan.  "You're smart ...  smarter 'n
me."

   "Why thank you, dear brother," said Bernadette smiling.  "But I'm not
sure that's true any more.  You're listening a lot better in this school
than you did in the last one."

   "That's because we get to talk about things that are interesting," said
Nathan.

   "Like sex?" asked his sister, grinning.

   Nathan didn't say anything for a long stretch of seconds.  Then he
cocked his head.

   "Think about it Bernie," he said, calling her by the nickname he had
used when they were small.  "Would you have even said that a week ago?"

   "What do you mean?" she asked.

   "Would we have even talked about sex a week ago?" he asked.

   Her eyes got wider.  "I guess not, huh?"

   "Before we came here, would you have ever even THOUGHT about saying in
public that you heard me through the wall?"

   "I'm really sorry about that Nathan, honest," pleaded his sister.  "I
just got mad and it sort of blurted out."

   "I'm not upset about that," he said calmly.  "I was then, I admit, but
not now.  Look what happened because you said that.  I learned more about
...  sex ...  today than I learned in my whole life before this.  I can
even say the word.  Sex.  Sex sex sex!"

   Both girls were shushing him, looking around.  Nathan started dancing
around in the kitchen chanting "SEX!" in a singsong voice.  Bernadette went
to the window, as if she expected to see people outside, listening, while
Hilda Mae chased him, trying to hit him.

   "Would you SHUT UP!" she yipped.  "What are you gonna do if the
neighbors hear you?"

   "See there!?" he crowed.  "Here I am dancing around and yelling that
word, and you're not upset about it.  All you're worried about is the
neighbors.  That's what I mean.  Our lives have changed, and it's Miss
Flossie who did that!"

   "So ...  is that bad?" asked Bernadette, troubled.

   "NO!" said Nathan explosively.  "It's not bad.  I feel alive.  I used to
worry about stuff, because I didn't know what was real and what wasn't.  I
used to think I was the only boy in the whole world who got a stiff ...  "
He stopped.  "pe-nis" he pronounced carefully.

   Hilda Mae giggled.

   "What would you have done if I'd said the word pe-nis a month ago?"
asked Nathan.  "Right in front of you, like this?"

   "I got to SEE your pe-nis a month ago!" laughed Hilda Mae.  "And it was
stiff as a board then!" She shrieked as Nathan grabbed for her, but it was
all in fun.  Hilda Mae began marching around the room, chanting "Pe-nis,
pe-nis, I saw Nathan's pe-nis."

   She knew enough to put the table between them, and as he went one way,
she went the other, darting back and forth, laughing, while Bernadette
stood to the side and laughed with her.  Then Nathan vaulted the table,
using muscles he'd built up over the summer.  Hilda Mae wasn't prepared for
it, and he caught her as she whirled to run.  His hands went around her
waist and she squealed and struggled.  In the process she tried to drop to
the floor, and his hands slid up to cup her fifteen year old breasts, which
were full and firm under his hands.

   "NA-THAN!" she squealed.

   He let go immediately, and she whirled to face him.  He expected anger,
but instead she stuck out her tongue at him.

   "I saw Nath-an's pe-nis," she chanted softly.  "I guess it's only fair
that you get to feel my boobies." Then she reached out and brushed her hand
over the crotch of his jeans, squealed like a stuck pig, and turned to run
and hide behind Bernadette, who was standing with her mouth open,
completely overwhelmed by what she'd just seen.

   Nathan's mouth was hanging open too, and he looked down.  He was wearing
corduroy pants that particular day, and they were loose.  As he looked, he
saw the bulge made by his obviously stiff penis.  He hadn't even felt it
get that way.  He looked up to see his sisters staring at the front of his
pants.  With a look of horror, he covered his crotch with both hands and
ran for his room, slamming the door behind him.  He threw himself on the
bed, ashamed.  First he had imagined his mother, and now he had gotten hard
because of his sister.  There had to be something wrong with him.  He was a
pervert ...  mentally ill.  There was a light tap on the door and his head
jerked up.

   "STAY OUT!" he screamed.

   "Nathan?  Please?  I'm sorry!" came Hilda Mae's voice through the door.

   "GO AWAY!" he screamed.

   She apparently did.  He didn't go outside his room until his mother came
and ordered him to come to supper.

   ========================================

   "What's eating him?" asked Harvey, nodding to Nathan, who sat, looking
at his plate.

   "He had a hard day at school," said Hilda Mae quickly.  "We did math,
and it was hard."

   "What kind of math could that nigger teach you that's hard?" asked
Harvey, putting his fork down.

   "Fractions," said Hilda Mae immediately.  "Multiplying and dividing
fractions.  And she started teaching us something called Algebra.  I never
heard of it before.  It's hard for all of us."

   In fact, Flossie had spent two weeks easing the older children into
Algebra, while she planned her health class.  She would normally never have
talked about variables and algebraic equations, but she needed something
that would challenge them so much they'd forget about 'health' class.  It
worked.  Only Curtis Lee and Bernadette seemed to catch on easily.  Ruth
Ann just wasn't interested, but she followed along.  Nathan could see how
this new thing could be valuable, but he had a hard time memorizing the
formulas.  Hilda Mae was the same way.

   Harvey put down his fork and looked steadily at Hilda Mae.

   "That's a damn lie," he said sternly.

   "Harvey!" gasped Marian.

   He looked at her.  "It IS.  There ain't no nigger in the whole world
that can understand Algebra."

   "Daddy," said Nathan casually, "They have niggers up in the big city
that teach college, and they teach algebra there."

   "That whore probably told you that," said Harvey, his face getting red.
"That cock-sucking whore is filling my children's head with bull SHIT, and
I have had about e-NOUGH of it!"

   "HARVEY!" shouted Marian, almost rising from her chair.

   "Give me your pen, Daddy," said Bernadette, holding out her hand.  She
looked scared, but her voice was steady.

   "What?"

   "Give me your pen!" she said, her voice louder.

   He responded out of habit, more than anything.

   "Now, give me a number." Bernadette waited.  Finally her mother blurted
out "sixty-one".  It was 1961, and Marian had just looked at the calendar
earlier to plan a day to go over to the library.

   Bernadette wrote on her paper napkin, scribbling a series of
calculations.  She finished and handed it to her father.  "That's the
square root of sixty to four decimal points.  Is that correct?"

   Harvey stared at the napkin.  His lips moved, and he reached for the
pen. It was plain he was struggling with the numbers in his head, and he
made a half dozen pen strokes on the napkin.  His eyes bulged.

   "How'd you do that?" he gasped.

   "That nigger woman taught me how to do that," said Bernadette calmly. 
"Not all niggers are stupid, Daddy.  And Miss ...  that nigger woman knows
a lot of things.  It's SCHOOL, Daddy.  Aren't we SUPPOSED to learn things?"

   Thankfully, Harvey was too flabbergasted to hear her almost slip, and
use the ...  honorific ...  "Miss" that Bernadette had slipped with.  Her
mother did not miss it, and she frowned.  Harvey stood up.

   "I'm goin' to bed," he said heavily.  He looked at the napkin, his hands
hanging limply by his sides.  "I had a hard day.  I'm goin' to bed."

   He turned and trudged to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

   "That was a very foolish thing to do, Bernadette," said her mother. 
"You embarrassed your father."

   "He embarrassed himself!" said Bernadette, before she snapped her mouth
closed and looked down.  "I'm sorry," she said instinctively.

   Marian looked at her children.  Only two of them were looking back at
her, but the look in their eyes was something she had never seen before. 
It was challenge.  And it wasn't the kind of challenge that a young child
shows when he wants something he can't have, and throws a tantrum.  This
was clear-headed thinking.  She felt a shiver go down her spine.

   "You'll drive your father to do something we'll all regret," she said
softly.

   "Why does he have to be that way?" asked Nathan.

   Marian, to her credit, knew what her son was referring to.  She herself
had been raised in a racist family, and accepted most of the things she was
told without thinking about them.  But she had been around the block.  She
well knew how important ...  and positive ...  Annie had been in her
children's lives, while she was out being the banker's wife, having tea and
going to garden parties.  The world was changing, though Harvey tried not
to believe that.

   "It's the way his world has always been," she said softly.  "Change is
hard for a man as stubborn as your father is."

   "Is change hard for you too?" asked Nathan.

   "That remains to be seen, dear," said Marian.  "You three are growing up
much faster than I had anticipated, and that, I admit, is difficult for me
to accept.  I know in my head that it has to happen, but my heart just
aches when I think of what you are going to have to go through as you reach
adulthood.  Some of it you can't control.  I daresay your father is one of
those situations.  Please don't push him.  I'm not sure he can take that."

   "He pushes us," said Bernadette, lifting her head finally.

   "A mamma bird pushes her fledglings out of the nest," said Marian.

   "It's not the same," said Bernadette.  "It's almost like he'd rather we
be stupid than learn something from Miss Flossie." She said the honorific
with the name on purpose how, to see what her mother would do.

   "Well, it's plain to see that ...  she ...  is teaching you much more
than we thought she would." Marian frowned.  "I'm proud of you for learning
so much, even if I don't have the faintest idea what Algebra is, or why
you'd need to know it.  Your Daddy will be proud of you some day too.  Just
give him time."

   "I don't think he'll ever change," said Nathan.

   "Maybe not," said his mother.  "But just remember ...  he's the only
father you've got.  Just try not to push him too far.  That's all I'm
asking."

   All three children heard, and were shocked by the fact that she was
actually 'asking' them to treat their father in ways that wouldn't
embarrass him.  An apron string came loose, just then, though none of them
thought of it in quite those terms.

   "Now," said Marian, rising.  "I need to go spend some time with your
father and soothe his wounds.  I would be appreciative if you three behaved
yourselves, and didn't bother us for the rest of the night."

   =========================================

   It wasn't as loud this time as they had been the last time the children
listened in, but even so, it was clear that what was going on behind their
parents' bedroom door was something that was fun for both of them.  Rather
than shouted words, this time, there were moans, and sighs, and soft voices
that they couldn't understand clearly.

   Bernadette caught Hilda Mae listening at the door first, and tried to
pull her away.  Hilda Mae got her to listen, and she stayed.  This was what
they had talked about in school.  Before they had thought only of their
father, hulking over their mother, something no child thinks of easily. 
But the unexpected softness in their mother ...  her flexibility under
stress, if you will ...  made her into someone they didn't quite know like
they thought they did.  And their father's capacity for tenderness, which
they could hear through the door, made him into a man they didn't know
either.  Now it seemed as though they spied on two strangers ...  lovers
... people without faces.

   ====================================

   Nathan got up from the table, where he had sat, thinking.  He had
thought more and more, recently, about the possibility of the police
academy, and striking out into the world as a man of value.  Just the
unformed thoughts about a life outside this house were exciting to him.  He
had sent off the letters, like Flossie had told him to, but had heard
nothing back yet.  Now this tenseness ...  this pretending to be someone
you weren't while you were at home ...  it made him think about being able
to leave, and about how positive that might be in his life.

   As he walked to his room he saw his sisters, leaning over, listening at
the door of his parents' bedroom.  He didn't have to wonder what they were
doing.  His memories of the last time, and his mothers cultured reference
to what he now knew meant "sex" made it clear what the girls were listening
to.  He had no interest in listening himself.  He already felt guilty about
the strange feelings he had that time, thinking about his mother ...  and
sex.

   He intended only to get them away from the door.  The last thing any of
them needed was someone opening that door from the inside, and finding them
there.  He kicked off his shoes, and walked quietly past them, making them
jerk as his shadow fell over them.  They stood up, wide-eyed, and he got
between them and the door.

   "NO!" he mouthed, opening his arms and herding them away from the door.
They grimaced, but he was insistent.  He herded them all the way to their
room, and pinned them against the door.  He was astonished, as his body
pressed them against the wood, that he was aware of how soft they felt ...
how good they smelled.  Bernadette's hair was right in his nose, and he
breathed deeply.

   "Go inside," he whispered.  "Leave them alone."

   "Come with us," whispered Hilda Mae.

   She turned the knob with one hand, and pulled at his sleeve with the
other.  Surprised, he followed her into the room, pressing Bernadette
against the door jamb in the process.

   "Hey!" Bernadette objected, as his body scraped across the front of her
body.

   "What?" Nathan asked Hilda Mae as she pulled him farther into the room.

   She suddenly let go, and blushed, looking around.

   "What?" he repeated.

   "I wanted to know ...  it's just that ..." Hilda Mae stopped and fanned
her face with her hand.  "Is it hot in here?" she asked.

   "What are you talking about?" asked Nathan, looking at her like she was
crazy.

   "It's just that ...  listening to them in there ...  it makes me feel
... I don't know ..." She looked at her brother and sister.  "Is this that
tension that Miss Flossie was talking about?" Her hand swept up to her
breast and, without realizing what she was doing, she squeezed the tip of
one tender breast.

   Nathan goggled at her.  She looked down and jerked her hand away.

   "I feel all ...  something inside!" she whispered harshly.  "And last
time you got ...  you know ..." She looked at the front of his pants.

   "Hilda Mae!" he whispered harshly.  "You stop that this instant!  I'm
your BROTHER, for pity's sake!"

   "Yes!" she hissed.  "But you're also the only boy I could ever even
THINK of asking!" Her eyes flashed and her face got even more red.

   "Asking what?" moaned Nathan, frustrated because he didn't have a clue
what she was talking about.

   "To SEE it you dummy!" she said in frustration.

   "See what?" he asked, frowning.

   "Your penis, of course!" she snapped in a whisper.

   "Hilda MAE!" moaned Bernadette, covering her face with both hands.

   "DON'T YOU BE LIKE THAT.  YOU WANT TO SEE IT TOO!" hissed Hilda Mae,
tossing her head.  "I KNOW YOU DO!"

   "SHHHHHHHH" went Nathan, his head reeling.  He didn't feel well at all.
This was too much for his adolescent mind to comprehend.  He had just been
feeling guilty for feeling ...  things ...  about his mother and sisters,
and now this?

   "Oh pleeeease Nathan?" Hilda Mae went into begging mode.  "All we want
to do is see it."

   "You already saw it," he gasped.  "In the bathroom."

   "Yes, but not very well.  Oh please, Nathan.  I want to see what Miss
Flossie was talking about.  I feel so wiggly inside, and I just KNOW that
if I could see it I'd feel better."

   "No!" he whispered, looking around the room for somewhere to sit down.
His knees felt weak all of a sudden.

   "Ohh pleease.  We won't touch it or anything," she pleaded.

   Nathan's head rocked back, and if he'd been standing closer to the wall
he would have smacked it hard.

   "Of COURSE you won't touch it!" he said scandalized.

   "But we can see it?" said Hilda Mae in that way women have of assuming
that you have agreed to one thing by denying another.

   Nathan looked at Bernadette, who was peeking out from between spread
fingers that were still partially covering her face.

   "SAY something to her!" he demanded helplessly.

   "Ooooooo" moaned Bernadette, covering her eyes again.

   "SEE!" said Hilda Mae, grinning.  "She wants to see it too!"

   "Bernie?" whispered Nathan, feeling like he was in a dream.

   She peeked through her fingers again, but didn't say anything.

   Nathan suddenly experienced what, these days, we might call "peer
pressure" in one sense.  Somehow, having TWO sisters wanting him to do
something crazy didn't seem quite so completely outrageous as it had when
only one was suggesting it.  It was clear that Bernadette was not denying
it, even if she was acting like she was horribly embarrassed.  It was easy
to take her behavior to mean that she did want to see his manhood.

   Nathan loved his sisters.  He also lusted after them, at least to some
degree.  Had he been offered the opportunity to see either of them naked,
he'd have jumped at the chance.  It wasn't because they were his sisters,
really.  He'd have jumped at the chance to see ANY woman naked.  But, like
many young men, the only females he had constant access to were his mother
and sisters.  Her comment about how he was the only boy SHE could have
access to came back to him.  It sounded so pragmatic.  He was there.  He
had a penis.  They already knew him and felt safe with him.

   He closed his eyes tightly and pushed the heels of his hands against
them until he saw bursts of light.  How could this suddenly seem so ... 
reasonable?  He knew it wasn't reasonable, but how could he get them to
understand the same thing?  The answer came to him in a flash.  He almost
smiled when he thought about what their faces would look like.  He couldn't
do it here, though.  They might make a lot of noise if his idea worked.

   "Just for a little bit?" wheedled Hilda Mae.

   Nathan took his hands away from his eyes.  He faced Bernadette.

   "Do you really want to see it too?" he asked.

   "Ooooooooo" she moaned again.

   "Bernadette, answer me!" he insisted.  "This is the craziest thing I
ever heard of in my whole life, but if ..." He stopped.  Her hands came
away from her eyes, which were filled with tears.  They were wide open, and
were glistening.

   "You mean you WOULD?" she whispered.

   "Only if BOTH of you want to see."

   Bernadette looked at him, her mouth twisted.  Then she looked at Hilda
Mae, who looked anxiously back, her eyebrows raised, pleading in her eyes.

   She nodded fractionally, and then closed her fingers over her eyes
again.

   "OK," said Nathan.  "But not here."

   Bernadette's hands came away from her face in a flash and she stared at
him.

   "What would you do if Mamma or Daddy came in here?" he asked.  "Do you
think they would approve of this?"

   Bernadette shook her head back and forth.

   "Then we'll have to go find someplace where nobody can catch us," he
said.

   "Where?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Come with me," he said.  "I think I know a place."

   "You're serious?" asked Bernadette, her voice high.

   "I'm crazy," said Nathan.  "But I'm not going to be crazy in your
bedroom.  Are you coming or not?"

   "Yes!" they said in tandem.

   It was mid October, still quite warm in their part of the country, but
it was getting dark.  It was late enough that most folks were home, eating
dinner, or maybe watching television.  Nathan led the girls to the truck
park, to the fire barn.  He opened the door and stepped in.  It was dark
inside, because there were no windows, and the girls hung back, peering
into the unknown.

   Nathan reached inside the door, up high, and his hand appeared with a
lantern.  He reached up again, and came back with a match.

   "How did you know about those?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "This is where I lived while I was out of the house last summer."

   "You're kidding!  How come you didn't tell us?"

   "I wasn't exactly proud of living in the fire barn," he said, smiling.

   He lit the lamp and led them inside.  The corner where the cot was, was
cozy, and the lamp light filled it softly.  They stood there, looking at
each other for a minute or two, and then the girls sat on the edge of the
cot, side by side, as if they were making up an audience.

   "So what now?" asked Nathan.  He had taken them to this place
intentionally, not just to get them out of the house.  That was a valid
reason, but the more important purpose was to give them time to calm down
and think ...  to change their minds.  When they didn't answer, he asked
"You still want to do this?"

   Hilda Mae nodded, wide-eyed.

   "Why?" he asked.

   "I don't know," she said softly.  Her eyes looked troubled.

   "What if I wanted to see you?" he asked.

   "Me?" she squeaked.

   "Both of you ...  naked.  What if I wanted you to be naked, so I could
look at you?"

   "We couldn't do that," she whispered, going pale.

   "Why not?  You want ME to get naked so you can see.  It's the same
thing, isn't it?"

   "I don't know." she said, sounding distressed.

   "I think about you sometimes," he said.  "Both of you."

   "You do?" asked Bernadette.  "How come?"

   "You're both pretty.  I see you around the house.  I get horny sometimes
...  and you're right, Bernie, I do jerk off.  I think about seeing you
naked sometimes ...  while I jerk off."

   "NATHAN!" squealed both girls together.

   "What's the big deal?  You want to see my penis, don't you?  Come on,
I'll get naked, and you two can get naked, and that way we can all have
some fun.  Maybe I'll even let you touch it."

   He expected them to run screaming from the building.  That would be OK.
They wouldn't speak to him for a while, but eventually he'd be able to tell
them it was all an act ...  for their own good.  By then they'd have their
senses back, and they'd understand that he HAD done the right thing.

   What he didn't know about were the hormones raging through his sisters'
systems.  What he didn't expect was for Hilda Mae to stand up and take her
shirt off.

   Chapter 12

   He stood speechless as his younger sister threw her shirt on the cot and
reached behind her to unhook her bra.  Like she'd done it a hundred times,
she bared her young breasts to him.  They were almost shockingly white,
compared to the skin on her neck and arms, where the sun had burned her
dark.  Perched on those white orbs were nipples that sat on areolas that,
together, were about the size of strawberries half grown.

   "Would this be enough?" she asked, her voice sounding strange.  "I don't
really want to take my pants off."

   Something else Nathan didn't expect was the almost overwhelming sense of
lust that washed over him like a summer thunderstorm, that drenches you to
the skin in seconds when you're caught out in it.  His mouth felt dry, and
the first thing he thought of was that those nipples would give milk for a
baby some day.  He was thirsty, and he licked his lips.  That dream was
back, and he was swept up in it.  He felt the tingle that meant his penis
was filling up, and watched, slack jawed as Bernadette stood and followed
her younger sister's lead.  Her breasts were bigger, more round, and her
nipples were completely different looking.  They were dark brown, and there
was almost no areola around them at all.  He stared at one chocolatey tip.
A nickle would have covered the areola had there not been a stiff brown
nipple on top of it, about the size of a pencil eraser.  She, too, had
creamy white skin where her shirt covered the flesh.  It was almost as if
they were wearing white shirts, with pictures of breasts on them.  Both
girls sat down on the edge of the cot.

   "Now you, Nathan," whispered Hilda Mae.

   The lust sang in his veins.  He was male, and they were female.  Gone
was his carefully thought out plan to chase them back home like little
girls.  He was male, and he suddenly wanted to DISPLAY his maleness.  He
wanted them to cry out with desire when he bared what made him a man.  He
wanted to preen for them ...  impress them ...  do the time honored mating
dance ...  all of those things that drive males of every species to try to
impress the females.  His hands fumbled at his belt automatically, and he
bent over to push his pants down.  He knew he'd feel foolish if he left his
pants around his ankles, so he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of
them. He was rock hard ...  as hard as he'd ever been in his life, and he
wanted to reach for it and stroke it.  But he didn't.  He stood up, turning
until his back was to them.

   "No fair, Nathan," sighed Bernadette.

   "Be patient," he said, unbuttoning his shirt.

   The girls stared at his ass, slim and hard.  The muscles in it moved as
he shifted his weight, and Hilda Mae felt a zinging sensation in her belly
and a flood of moisture between her legs that she had felt only once before
in her life.  She had been SO horny that time.

   Bernadette was right there with her.  As she stared at her brother's
tight butt, her hand came up and she pinched one nipple gently, rolling it
between her thumb and finger.  She was getting wet too.

   He postured for them, letting the shirt slide back off his shoulders,
and down his arms, to drop behind him.  Now he was naked, and the muscles
in his back moved too, as he twisted around to look over his shoulder.  He
couldn't believe the feeling of power he had as the girls looked at him
with something like hope in their eyes.  Finally he turned, standing
sideways to them and leaning back just a little, his hands on his hips.  An
errant thought zinged into his mind from where he held insecurity at bay.
That thought made him wonder if his balls were tight against his body, or
hanging down.  Hanging down would be more impressive ...  wouldn't it?. 
The twin gasps he heard banished that concern, and he turned to face them,
taking a step closer.  Both girls leaned back, their arms automatically
going behind them to support them.  All that did was put their breasts on
display.

   The girls had leaned back for the simple reason that, once they saw the
whole package, it looked so dangerous, somehow, that it almost frightened
them.  Their lean was purely a function of self defense.  At the same time,
each girl had thoughts along the line of how some people feel when they see
a thoroughbred horse.  Its lines are so smooth, its muscles ripple, and
it's just beautiful in a way that catches at the heart.  Nathan's penis,
proudly erect, a thick column of pale flesh, stood out no more than six
inches, but it fairly burst from an explosion of brown hair that looked
soft.  His balls were, indeed, hanging down, one slightly lower than the
other, and the ball sack looked huge to the girls.  They had seen dog's
balls, but those were so small by comparison with this!

   It was everything they had hoped and dreamed of seeing.  Their
respiration doubled, and their blood pressure went up thirty points.

   It had been quiet for perhaps two minutes when Bernadette broke the
silence.

   "You said we could touch it," she whispered.

   That comment jarred his consciousness.  "I did?" He didn't remember
saying that.  But suddenly, along with something soothing that eased its
way through his penis to make a clear bead at the tip of his prick, the
idea of them touching it appealed to him in a way that made arguing with
himself seem a complete waste of time.  He stepped closer, and Hilda Mae
leaned forward first.

   Nathan was uncut.  When circumcision was mentioned at the hospital,
Harvey had answered for both of them "We don't want no Jewish crap done to
our boy!" His penis, therefore, had the appearance to Hilda Mae of being
some kind of over-large hot dog, blunt at the tip, and basically the same
size in diameter for its entire length.  The tip looked almost odd, like
there was something inside the skin that was trying to grow out of it.  She
had rubbed a dog's belly one time, at her friend's house in Atlanta, and
the dog had spread his hind legs, his tail thumping.  A pointed pink thing
had begun to extend from a sheath of furry skin, and she was reminded of
that as she stared at her brother's penis.  This one wasn't pointed, like
the dog's was, and it had a little slit in the tip that had a glistening
bubble of liquid slowly welling out.  But if the shiny skin around that
little slit came out like the dog's had, this thing she was looking at
would be almost twice as long as it was now.  And it was different from the
dog's in another way.  The dog's sheath lay along its stomach.  Nathan's
stuck straight out, though it did point upwards a little.  Still, it was
already huge, in her opinion.  She had never put anything in her vagina,
but she was quite sure that nothing like that would fit.

   "There's no way," she sighed.

   "What?" panted Nathan.

   "There's no way that would all fit inside a woman.  It's too big."

   Bernadette leaned forward beside her sister.  "Are you going to touch
it?" she asked, breathlessly.  Their roles as older and younger sister,
wherein Bernadette almost always took the dominant aspect, had suddenly
reversed.  Bernadette looked to her younger sister in this.

   "Can you make the inside part come out?" asked Hilda Mae, still thinking
of that dog, and wanting to see how long it would get.

   Nathan didn't think about the suggestion that his little sister knew the
foreskin would slide back.  He just reached for his penis, closing his hand
around the tip, and pulled toward his balls.  The dragon's head emerged
from its lair and both girls gasped.  The uncovered knob looked so
different from what it had before that it was almost startling.  Now,
instead of smooth lines, there were curves and bumps and ridges.  The tip
now looked like some kind of dull spear tip, smaller at the very tip, but
quickly swelling to a wide ridge.  It narrowed significantly just past that
point, and then swelled back outward until, when it got to where his hand
covered it, it was the same diameter as the wide crown.

   The most natural thing for Nathan to do, as he stared at his sisters'
bare breasts, was to slide his hand back forward, and then stroke again. 
He had done it three or four times, slowly, before he realized what he was
doing.  The wrongness of masturbating in front of his sisters seeped into
his brain, and he took his hand away, wishing he didn't have to.

   "Is that what you do when you ...  masturbate?" asked Hilda Mae.  She
was flushed, and her own nipples had gotten larger somehow.

   Nathan sighed.  "Uh huh," he confirmed.

   "Touch it," whispered Bernadette.  She wanted to touch it herself, but
couldn't make her hand move.  She had spoken to her brother, but it was
Hilda Mae who reacted.  The younger girl lifted her hand and touched the
tip with one finger, sliding it gently along the head and onto the shaft.

   "It feels so soft," she said.  "It doesn't feel like it looks."

   With her thumb and forefinger, she tried to make the hood of skin go
back, like he had done.  He was so hard, though, that the skin resisted
moving.  Finally she wrapped her hand around it, like he had, and pushed.
The head came into view again and Hilda Mae felt suddenly soaking wet
between her legs.

   "It's warm," she said.  The hair around the base didn't tickle her hand
like she had expected.  It was soft and crushed easily.  Her thumb hit the
big sack that hung from his body and she let go of the penis to slide her
hand under and cup the balls.  She was astonished at how easily they moved,
how fluid they felt in her hand, but at the same time she could tell that
the hard little nuggets inside wouldn't give like the skin around them.

   "Ahhhhh" moaned Nathan, automatically fearing injury when his nuts were
gently squeezed.  "Careful."

   The nuts were fun to feel and play with, in their droopy sack, but she
liked the feel of the thick hard shaft much better, and she returned to
that.  She stroked several times.  She could see why Nathan liked to do
this ...  it felt good in her hand.

   "Can I?" whispered Bernadette.

   Hilda Mae reluctantly took her hand away, and Bernadette reached,
wrapping her hand around it like her sister had.  She gripped it tightly,
almost as if she were trying to choke it.  The bead of moisture at the tip
got bigger, and white milky swirls entered it.  It overflowed the slit, and
began to run down.

   "Is that ...  sperm?" she asked, leaning closer to look at it.

   "Ahhhh ...  I don't know," panted Nathan.  "I guess so."

   "Is that all there is?" asked Bernadette curiously.  Her hand slid back
and he leaned forward.

   "Not so tight," he groaned.

   "Oh!" She loosened her grip instantly, and found that the skin moved
much more easily.  Instinct caused her to tighten again a little bit as she
pulled the hood back over the head.  More sperm oozed out and ran down to
form a drip.  Both girls watched as that drip strung out, then broke free,
and fell to the floor.

   "That little bit of stuff can make a baby?" sighed Hilda Mae,
unbelieving.

   "You have to stop now," groaned Nathan.

   "Why?" asked Bernadette.  She liked the feel of his penis in her hand.

   "The rest is about to come out," he moaned.

   "There's more?" she asked excitedly.

   "Lots more," he panted.

   "Make it come out." she demanded.  "We want to see it."

   So easily did the older sister take back the reins of leadership, once
she was comfortable with the situation.

   He turned sideways to them, and his hand grasped his member, stroking
quickly.

   "Doesn't that hurt?" asked Bernadette, amazed at how violently his hand
seemed to move.

   "Oh no," he sighed, jerking even faster.

   "Turn around!" said Hilda Mae, who was almost to his rear now.  "I can't
see."

   "No ..." He started to explain, but the sensation was already there.  He
felt the sweet pain that heralded what was about to happen.

   Not understanding, both girls reached for his thighs, and, together,
they forced him to turn and face them.  They leaned forward in the process,
and Bernadette's face was right in front of his penis when the first stream
of spunk shot out.  It hit her square below her nose, on her upper lip. 
Her mouth was slightly open, and a significant amount of that first shot
got inside her mouth.  Nathan had looked down, anticipating that first
spurt.  He liked to watch as it came out, and his horrified eyes took in
the desecration of his sister's face.  He clamped down on his prick
instinctively, and pressure built as his body tried to keep sending semen
down his penis.  His feet were placed the wrong way to turn back.  As they
had moved him, his feet had automatically compensated, taking a step, and
the only direction he could go was to his right.  That brought Hilda Mae
into range as the target for the second spurt, when he couldn't stand the
pain and let the pressure off his prick.  She had seen the fluid splatter
on her sister's face, had felt drops of the stuff splash on her own
shoulder.  Her mind recognized the heat of the stuff first, then recoiled,
naturally at what it was.  She leaned back instinctively, and that caused
the stream of thick, milky-white fluid that came her way to paint a stripe
from her throat, down across her right breast, and onto her side.

   Bernadette had fallen back, as if shot, to lie on her back, her hands
coming to her face to wipe the offending matter away.  All she did was
spread it around as her brain realized it was inside her mouth.  The
indrawn breath she had taken as her face was splattered came whooshing out,
and sperm-laced semen, mixed with her own saliva, exploded upwards like a
geyser.  The fountain of tiny droplets simply fell back to land on her
chest, speckling her breasts.  The slightly acrid taste had overtones of
salt and somehow sweet at the same time, which was why her initial gag
reflex calmed.  It didn't taste like something terrible.

   A tiny portion of her brain remembered, last year in Atlanta, three
girls whispering and giggling about something one of them called a "blow
job".  She had never heard of a "blow job" before.  Bernadette had
instinctively known there was some interesting secret there, but she had
also instinctively known that to ask what that was would make her the
recipient of derision.  So she had pretended that she knew what a blow job
was, and just listened, trying to puzzle out more.  She could tell, at the
end of the whispered conversation, that it involved kissing a boy's penis,
or something very near like that ...  perhaps blowing on it for some reason
...  but it hadn't made any sense to her.  Now, with a new taste in her
mouth, she remembered one girl saying "They sure love it when you swallow."
That hadn't made any sense either, but her brain made the jump from that
comment to this situation.  As crazy as it seemed, the girl might have been
talking about this very kind of thing!

   The taste, her brain realized, wasn't offensive.  Still, her reflex was
to spit and try to clear her mouth, and she sat back up to do just that. 
Her hands were messy with the stuff, and she held them out away from her
body helplessly.

   For Hilda Mae, again, the first thing she felt was the heat of the
stuff, all the way along that stripe of white that marked her body.  She,
too, fell back, and her head bounced on the tight canvas of the cot as her
hands came up to wipe it away.  That part was instinct.  But what she felt
when she put her palm on the stuff was a wonderful warm, slippery balm.  As
her palm crossed the nipple that had been splattered, it felt so good that
she found herself rubbing the substance into her skin, rather than trying
to wipe it away.  She moaned at the delightful tingles, and her fingers
kneaded her nipple, squeezing, never quite able to get a grip, because it
was so slippery.  Her left hand went to her other breast, and that one was
dry.  Her fingers pinched that nipple and she pulled at it, stretching it
away from her breast.  That kind of tingle had overtones of pain in it. 
The combination of different, but equally delightful sensations, caused her
to keep doing it.  She felt something like a cramp in her abdomen, and a
rush of pleasure between her legs such as she had never felt in her life.
The spermy hand flashed between her legs and she pressed hard, through her
jeans, at the same spot she was unaware that Bernadette loved to press
against on her own body.  Hilda Mae had discovered that spot one night
while she was bathing.  She had touched and even rubbed it before, but it
hadn't felt anything like this.  Her whole body tensed, and a groan escaped
her lips as she had the first real orgasm of her young life.

   Nathan, of course, felt terrible.  The joy and ecstasy of his own orgasm
was curtailed almost instantly when he splattered his younger sister too.
He let go of his prick, still turning, and his third shot fell limply to
the floor, leaving the tip dripping.  He moved automatically to the tiny
sink on one wall, where a towel hung, still there from when he had hung it
on a nail.  He grabbed the towel and returned to his sisters.  Bernadette
was sitting up, her hands held away from her body, a strange look on her
sperm-covered face.  To his relief it wasn't outrage ...  not yet anyway.
He reached for one hand with the towel and began wiping it dry.

   "I'm so sorry," he panted.  "I tried to warn you, but ..."

   Bernadette took the towel from him and wiped her face.  Then she dabbed
at her chest, wiping.  The rough towel scraped across her nipples and her
stomach flip-flopped.  Her initial disgust had changed as her brain coped
with the situation.  What had gotten into her mouth didn't taste bad.  What
she had seen amazed her beyond anything she'd ever seen in her life.  All
things considered, she counted the whole affair as something exciting and
worth having done ...  something she'd surely never, ever forget.  Still,
if she could see those girls right now, she'd tell them they were nuts to
think that getting your face splattered was something to look forward to.
He had 'blown' all over her face, so now she knew exactly what a 'blow job'
was, but she doubted she'd be asking Nathan to do that again real soon, no
matter how much he might like it.

   "It's OK," she mumbled, her mouth still not empty.  She swallowed by
pure instinct, and then tried to stop herself as she realized what was
about to go into her stomach.  It didn't work, and she was even more amazed
when her stomach didn't rebel.

   She and Nathan both looked over at Hilda Mae, who was writhing, one hand
between her legs, her head tossing back and forth.  Her upper torso was
shiny and wet looking in the lamp light.  She looked like she was having an
attack of some kind, and it sounded like it too.

   Bernadette's eyes widened as she realized what was happening.  She had
had orgasms before.  The first one scared her so much that she almost
called out to her mother.  But then, when that agony had passed, she had
felt like she was floating on a cloud.  She knew exactly what Flossie was
talking about when she had mentioned the 'release of tension' and then the
word 'orgasm'.  She had immediately drawn the connection between what
Flossie was talking about, and what she sometimes did in the dark of night,
when her sister was asleep.  She was just amazed that her younger sister
could be experiencing the same thing.

   Nathan leaned forward, his prick still dripping, concern on his face.

   "Hildy?" he moaned, terrified that he had hurt her somehow.

   "It's OK," said Bernadette, reaching for his arm.  "I know what's
happening to her.  She's not hurt."

   "Uhhhh ...  feels so gooooood," moaned Hilda Mae, in her own world.

   "What's wrong with her?" asked Nathan.

   "Nothing.  She's having an orgasm." said Bernadette.

   "That's what I did too ...  isn't it?" he asked.

   "I think so," said Bernadette.  "Did it release tension?"

   "Oh yeah," said Nathan.  "Except now I feel stupid, standing in front of
you naked." He looked around for his clothes.

   "NO!" said Bernadette.  "I like looking at you ...  like this."

   "Naked?" he asked.  He relaxed.  "I guess that makes sense.  I like
looking at you too."

   "I'm not really naked," said Bernadette, looking at her jeans.

   "I think that's good," said Nathan, smiling tiredly.  "If you'd have
been as naked as me I probably would have spurted a lot sooner ...  maybe
even in my pants."

   "In your pants would have been a lot cleaner," she joked, wiping at her
chest again.

   "I'm really sorry about that," he said.

   "It wasn't so bad ...  once I got used to it." she said.  "It tastes
funny."

   "Ohhhhh," moaned Nathan.  He hadn't realized it got in her mouth.  "I
feel so bad."

   "I SAID it was OK," said Bernadette firmly.  "Next time we'll know
better."

   "Next time?" gasped Nathan.  He felt his penis twitch at the idea that
there might be a next time.  All it did was twitch, though.

   "Sure," she said softly.  "I liked this."

   "You're kidding," he said, disbelief clear in his voice.  "I got it all
over you!"

   "Like I said, we'll know better next time."

   Hilda Mae gave a long sigh and relaxed.  Her head rolled to face her
sister.

   "Miss Flossie was right about not wanting to get up.  That's never
happened to me before."

   "It was scary, wasn't it?" suggested her sister knowingly.

   "Yeah," sighed Hilda Mae.  "At first, anyway.  Then it just felt too
good to care any more.  Was that really an orgasm?"

   "I think so," said Bernadette.  "If it was anything like the times it's
happened to me it had better be an orgasm.  I don't think I could take
anything stronger than that."

   "Did it happen to you this time?" asked Hilda Mae, wanting to share that
feeling with her sister.

   "No," said Bernadette.  "When his stuff got on me I kind of freaked out.
Besides, I have to rub ...  kind of like you did."

   "You've rubbed in bed ...  haven't you?" asked Hilda Mae.

   Bernadette flushed, but nodded.

   "I thought so.  I heard you.  I do it to sometimes." admitted Hilda Mae.
"But I never felt like I did just a minute ago."

   "Can I get dressed now?" asked Nathan.  He still felt uncomfortable, now
that the lust had been blasted out of his body, along with his semen.

   "I guess so," said Bernadette.  "We probably ought to get back home.  I
don't think Mamma will come check on us.  I think she lies there too, after
they ...  " She blushed again.

   "I can't imagine what that looks like," sighed Hilda Mae.  "I mean Daddy
and Mamma, naked." It was quiet for a few seconds as Nathan found his
clothes and began climbing back in them.  Bernadette reached for her shirt.
Hilda Mae kept lying there until Bernadette threw her the towel.  She wiped
at her chest, almost reluctantly.  "Do you think he really puts it inside
Mamma?"

   "He must have," said Bernadette.  "The three of us here are proof of
that." She suddenly stopped.  She had swallowed some of Nathan's sperm. 
She felt sudden panic.  She turned to Nathan, fear on her face.  "Nathan! I
swallowed some of your stuff!  What if I get pregnant?"

   Nathan's face twisted.  "Can it happen that way?" he asked.

   "I don't know!" moaned Bernadette.  "It got inside me!"

   "It got all over me," said Hilda Mae, looking down at her bare upper
torso.  "But I don't think that counts.  I think it has to get in your ...
pussy." She blushed.  She'd never given word out loud to what she had
between her legs.

   "If I'm pregnant Mamma will just KILL me!" said Bernadette.

   "We'll ask Miss Flossie about that tomorrow," suggested Hilda Mae.

   "How are we going to do that?" asked Bernadette, frustrated.

   "Easy," said Hilda Mae.  "I'll just say 'Miss Flossie, my brother got
his sperm in my sister's mouth last night, and she swallowed some of it. 
Is that going to make her belly swell up with a baby?"

   "This isn't funny," said Bernadette crossly.

   "Maybe not," said Hilda Mae.  "But it sure was fun."

   The trip back home was very quiet.

   Chapter 13

   Nathan and his sisters weren't the only youths in Catfish Hollow who
were experimenting that night.

   Four miles away, at a wide bend in Foster's creek, three other youths
met after supper.  In this case it was two boys and a girl.

   Jesse and Luthor had both, for some reason, expected Johnnie Sue to look
different when she loped up to join them.  They, like most boys, had begun
to look at girls a bit differently than they had in the past.  It is
difficult not to, once you begin to gather in sexual information, and
process it.  Once a boy contemplates the possibility that he can have sex,
he never looks at girls in quite the same way as he had in the past.

   For Johnnie Sue, the difference was that she had found something ELSE to
share with her best friends.  She didn't anticipate having sex with them
... that was something only adults did.  Miss Flossie said so.  But playing
sexually was fun, and she liked it a lot.  By the time she'd gotten home
the pain of her torn hymen was just a nagging little thing, and by the time
her chores were done, and supper was over, she had shoved her worry over
that to the back of her mind.

   When she skidded to a stop in front of her blood brothers, her hands
went to her shirt buttons immediately.

   "Last one in's a rotten egg!" she yipped.

   The boys started fumbling frantically with their own clothes, their
youthful brains unable to decide whether getting naked was the main plan,
or avoiding being the rotten egg was more important.  At any rate, shortly
there were three piles of clothes on the ground, and three naked bodies
splashing in the creek.

   The norm, in this situation, was to splash each other, push each other,
dunk each other, and generally be violent in a competitive kind of way.  It
wasn't intended to actually prove anything.  It was more like puppies
growling and biting and chasing each other around, while their mother
looked on in patient approval.  If things got out of hand, the mamma dog
could step in.

   But in this case, there was no mamma to step in, and this play was
somehow different than it had been in the past.  There was a little more
aggression, on both the boys' part and Johnnie Sue's.  The feel of chasing
and pushing was a little more exciting, somehow.  The feel of skin on wet
skin had always been there, of course, but in the past it had been arms and
legs slipping against each other.  Now, suddenly, other body parts came
into contact, sliding across each other.  The boys, when they tackled each
other, somehow knew how to mitigate the kind of touch that pressed a penis
against one's temporary rival.  But, when they grappled with Johnnie Sue,
that urge for mitigation seemed to be missing.

   It was almost mind-blowingly fun.  Johnnie Sue wrapped her legs around
them, pushing her crotch against a hip, or a knee, as she tried to trip
them and force their heads under water.  Her breasts pressed against a
smooth back, as she put her arms around them to lift and throw.  When they
caught her, their hands slipped all over, frequently across her breasts. 
Had they done this on land, with no excuse, she would have rebuffed that
touch.  But here, in the water, it all seemed exciting, though harmless,
just the same.  When Luthor got the better of her physically, it only
seemed fair to grab for his penis, pulling and squeezing as he yelped,
letting go.  That worked so well with him that she stalked Jesse, reaching
for his too, as he backpedaled and cried for her to stop.

   She became the huntress, growling, her hands out like claws, laughing at
the mock terror on the boys' faces.  When she caught one, she'd maul him
with her hands, sliding them all over his butt and between his legs,
brushing his balls.

   Eventually, they fought back, making lunges to feel between HER legs,
even though there was nothing there to grab.  The managed to squeeze her
breasts, but she didn't seem to care, always grabbing for a penis instead
of trying to get away.

   All the time, the tension built.  It was play, but it somehow became
serious play.  The penises she grabbed for became erect, and stayed that
way, even when she catcalled and made fun of them, accusing them of wanting
to have sex with her and calling them dirty little boys.

   Finally there came a time when Luthor, when she grabbed his penis,
didn't try to get away any more.  He just stood there.

   She gave his prick a little squeeze.

   "Gotcha," she said, panting.

   "I know," he said.  "That feels really good, Johnnie Sue."

   She pulled at it gently.

   "You like it when I do that?"

   He nodded.

   "If I keep doing it will it squirt, like before?" she asked.

   "What are you guys doing?" asked Jesse, yards away.

   "I'm rubbing his root," called out Johnnie Sue.

   "Hey!  You can't do that!" said Jesse, swimming closer to them.

   "Why not?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "You're supposed to rub your own root, not have somebody else rub it FOR
you," he said.

   "I don't know about that," gasped Luthor.  "It feels mighty good when
she does it."

   "Really?" asked Jesse, coming closer.

   "C'mere, an' I'll rub yours too," offered Johnnie Sue.

   "I don't think so," said Jesse.

   "Come on, Jesse.  I like doing it."

   "Really?  How come?"

   "I don't know.  It just feels nice, that's all."

   "It sure does," gasped Luthor.

   "Stand up," said Jesse.  "I don't think you're REALLY rubbing it. 
You're trying to play a trick on me."

   Johnnie Sue led Luthor toward the bank, pulling his prick like it was a
leash.  He went willingly, and soon the water was around his thighs. 
Johnnie Sue sat down, waist-deep, facing him, and reversed her hand so her
thumb was toward her face.  She stroked lovingly.

   "Dang!" sighed Jesse.  "You really ARE doing it."

   "C'mere," urged Johnnie Sue again.

   Slowly Jesse moved closer, a half step at a time.  As his hips came out
of the water they could see he was very hard too.  His own hand was wrapped
around his penis and he stroked it slowly.

   "Let her do it," gasped Luthor.  "It feels really good!"

   It did, too.  When Jesse finally got close enough, and she batted his
hand away from his penis, she grasped it and jerked it in time with the
hand stroking Luthor.  Jesse's knees felt like they were going to give way.

   "Uhhhhhh" he moaned.

   "Told you," panted Luthor.  "I feel it coming, Johnnie Sue."

   "Jesse's is easier to rub," she commented, watching his foreskin slide
back and forth.  "His skin moves."

   Just then Luthor got his nut off, and his spunk squirted out.  While he
had warned her, she hadn't realized he'd go off that quickly, and it hit
her shoulder.  She had the immediate sensation of warmth, but otherwise
wasn't put off by the stuff getting on her.  She was in the creek, and
could easily wash it off.  She looked closely at the knob, and saw the
little slit open up just before another spurt lanced out.  She milked it
and he sagged back down in the water.  She looked up at Jesse and changed
hands, using her strong hand on him.

   "I wish you could spurt stuff to Jesse," she said.  "It's fun to see
that."

   Her rhythm on Jesse's prick wasn't quite right to bring him off, and he
started helping her, closing his hand over hers and making her speed up a
little.  When he felt the dry agony of an orgasm with no semen to soothe
things, his face twisted up and he leaned forward to support his weight on
Johnnie Sue's shoulders.  His penis was right in front of her face.  She
played with it, fascinated by the foreskin, and what she could do with it.

   "Thank you, Johnnie Sue," gasped Jesse.  "I sure hope you don't get in
trouble for doing that."

   "Nobody's going to know but us," said Johnnie Sue firmly.  "This is
blood brother business."

   Johnnie Sue had gotten heated up, playing with those stiff pricks, and
she got out to lie on the grass on the bank, legs spread, to rub herself.
Luthor offered to rub her, and she let him try, but he didn't have the
touch.  Jesse squatted, peering between her legs, but didn't want to try
himself.  Her middle finger split her lips as she pulled at her clitty.

   "Your finger is going inside you," gasped Jesse, as the fingertip
disappeared between the lips.

   "Just a little," she moaned, loving the feeling of being watched.

   "Can you make it go more?" asked Luthor.

   "That hurt last time," she panted.  "Remember the blood?"

   "Are you still bleeding?" he asked.

   "I don't know," she said.

   "Well check," he urged.

   Slowly, Johnnie Sue started sliding her finger deeper.  She felt the
place that had been sore.  It was still sore, but didn't have the stinging
sensation she had felt before.

   "I think I found where I cut myself," she said.  She found she could go
deeper, and that it didn't hurt deeper.  Suddenly her knuckles were pressed
against her flesh.

   "It's ALL the way in!" gasped Jesse.

   "Doesn't that hurt?" asked Luthor.

   "Uhhhh...no" panted Johnnie Sue, experimenting with the finger.  She
pulled it out, and slid it back in, loving the feel of it stroking her up
inside.  She learned in the next seconds to push the finger inside, while
scraping it along her bump, and that was even better.  Soon she was bucking
and moaning as she got her own sexual release.  At the end she flopped
back, limp and satisfied while the boys hovered over her on hands and
knees.

   Luthor reached for the hand she had been using to pleasure herself.  He
picked it up as she half opened her eyes to see what he was doing.

   "No blood," he said, examining her finger.  He sniffed.  "It smells
funny."

   "I pee down there," she said, suddenly wanting to wash her hand.

   "No, not like that," said Luthor, sniffing again.  He held the hand out
to Jesse, who reluctantly got his broad nose close enough to take a little
sniff.

   "I don't smell anything," he said, backing off.

   "Try again," said Luthor, holding her limp hand out.

   Jesse should have recognized the tone in his friend's voice.  It was the
tone of "I'm about to get you!", but he missed it.  He leaned closer and,
as his nose got close, Luthor pushed her hand, rubbing her finger against
Jesse's lips and smearing them with her juices.

   "OH, AHHHHH!!" yelled Jesse, backing up so fast he fell on his butt. 
His soft flesh landed on a small rock, and it hurt.

   "What'd you do that for?" he complained, as Luthor laughed.  Jesse sat
there, looking injured and unconsciously licked his lips.  He knew
instantly that he was tasting Johnnie Sue ...  from between her legs.  His
first thought was of old Boomer, his neighbor's dog, who came around every
time Daisy, his own dog, came into heat.  Boomer would sniff around Daisy's
butt and then lick it for ten minutes before jumping up on her and humping
her.  Jesse had always thought the dog was stupid or something, to be
licking another dog's butt like that.  Now he got his first clue that there
was more going on there than just a tongue and a butt.

   "She tastes good," he blurted.

   "Huh?" asked Luthor.

   "Nothing!" said Jesse.  Nobody would ever believe him if he told the
truth.

   Just then Johnnie Sue sat up.  "It's getting late.  If we want to be
able to keep coming here, we'd better get back home."

   They gathered up their clothes.  They were still a little damp, and
pulling on their clothes wasn't easy, but they managed.  Johnnie Sue waved,
grinning, and started off running towards her house, which was the opposite
direction that Luthor and Jesse needed to go.  The boys started walking
back together.

   "What did you say about her tasting good?" pressed Luthor.

   "Nothing really," said Jesse.

   "Come on Jesse, I'm sorry I tricked you like that."

   Jesse looked at his friend.  "That's just it.  When her finger touched
my lips I could taste ...  her ...  you know ...  from down there.  And she
tasted good, Luthor!  I was surprised!"

   "Really?" Luthor didn't sound like he was disgusted.  With all that had
happened lately, his mind was open to a lot more strange ideas than it
would have been otherwise.

   "Really!" said Jesse.  As the boys walked along he explained about how
Boomer licked Daisy, and thought he now knew why.

   Chapter 14

   School the next day started just as it usually did, with the kids
arriving in twos and threes, while Flossie finished writing the lesson on
the board.  While they waited for class to start, the kids usually just
chatted quietly with each other, about this or that.

   On this day, though, almost all the older kids had things on their minds
that they didn't want to chat about ...  at least not with everybody there.
With the exception of Ruth Ann, all the older girls present in the room had
thoughts of a hard penis in their minds.  The appearance of that penis was
different from girl to girl, but the look on their faces was remarkably
similar.  And the boys had visions of breasts in their minds, for the most
part.  Those breasts had to share mental room with the feeling of spurting
(or almost spurting, in Jesse's case).  Even though Moses hadn't been at
the swimming hole the night before, his one-time exposure to Johnnie Sue's
breasts had been a powerful thing, and he had stroked his rod every time he
got the chance since then.

   Flossie could tell they were distracted, and she had a pretty good idea
of why.  She was less and less sure that this 'health class' was a good
idea.  But, she was stuck with it now.  Things had already gone way past
the point where all she would likely suffer was a ride on a fence rail, her
body covered with hot tar and white feathers.  She hadn't meant for things
to get nearly as ...  in depth ...  as they had yesterday.  She hoped
they'd lose interest after a few more days.

   ==========================================

   When Flossie waved at the last of the little ones, going off to home,
she closed the door and turned around to find her older students sitting
quietly in their chairs, already attentive.  They had pulled them into a
circle again, and again, the girls were on one side and the boys on the
other.

   There was a complicated mix of emotions and motivations going on in the
group.  The Wilson children were quite aware that, if anyone found out what
they'd done together, they'd be in the biggest trouble of their whole
lives. That didn't lessen the desire to do it again.  But it was a secret
they intended to take to their graves.  The emotions it caused in them,
however, were in the here and now, and their thirst for more sexual
knowledge drove them to seek it.  What they were trying to figure out was
how to ask questions, without giving themselves away.

   It was much the same with Johnnie Sue, Luthor and Jesse.  Best friends
though they might be, they knew that wouldn't cut any mustard with adults,
and it probably wouldn't mean anything to the other kids either, if they
found out what the three had done.  Moses would probably cut them some
slack, because he had participated that one time.  The others wouldn't. 
But they had questions too, based on experience they shouldn't have, and
they were trying to figure out how to ask them.

   Flossie launched into the dry description of how a sperm, with its
little tail, swam along until it found an egg, and then penetrated the egg,
at which point a baby was officially made.  Then she described how that egg
attached to the wall of the uterus and began to grow into the baby that
eventually came out.  The literature she had read gave special emphasis on
describing how long and painful the process of birth was, since this was
believed to encourage girls to wait as long as possible to actually risk
pregnancy.

   She was about to switch to venereal diseases, when she noticed Moses'
head drop and then rise again.  He was nodding off.  She looked around. 
Most of the boys were gazing here or there.  Only Johnnie Sue was looking
directly at her.  Ruth Ann seemed to be dozing too.

   "Of course this is all just boring, right, children?" she extemporized.

   She got two "Uh huh"s and a "Yes, ma'am" before the kids realized what
they'd said.  She sighed.

   "Do you have questions left over from yesterday?" she asked.  They
perked up almost as a group.

   You could have heard a pin drop.

   "Well, if there aren't any more questions, I suppose out health class is
over." said Flossie.

   There was a chorus of wails and cries of "NOooo".

   "Well," said Flossie impatiently.  "If you are not going to ask any
questions, and are just going to fall asleep if I give you the lecture ...
what in the world am I supposed to DO?"

   Jesse's hand shot up.

   "Yes Jesse?"

   "Well ...  um ...  I was just wonderin'," he started, looking bashfully
around.  "I got this dog named Daisy, you know?  and this other dog named
Boomer ...  he comes around when Daisy is in heat, or at least that's what
Daddy calls it.  When does a woman get in heat?"

   Flossie smiled.  "There is a difference between humans and other
animals," she said.  "All animals have a regular cycle, just like women do
with the egg I mentioned.  The ovaries - that's the name of the special
place a woman's eggs are kept - release an egg about once every
twenty-eight days.  That would be when she comes into 'heat' I suppose,
except that people don't behave like other animals do when that time
comes."

   "So ...  other stuff Boomer does to Daisy ...  people wouldn't do that?"
he asked.

   All Flossie could think of that a dog would do was mount the bitch, so
she shook her head slightly.

   "I think that most animals do it the same," she said.  "It may look a
little different, but in almost every case, it's the same."

   What she meant was that, in almost all cases, the male put his penis in
the female's vagina, inserted the sperm, and that was pretty much it.  What
she actually did was validate a behavior that, if she'd known what he was
talking about, she might have prevaricated on.  Jesse had been trying to
work up to asking a direct question about Boomer licking what Jesse was now
sure was Daisy's vagina, rather than her butt, and he relaxed as he
realized he didn't have to ask the question any more.  She had already
answered it.  Luthor, who at the mention of Daisy and Boomer also expected
Jesse to ask about the licking thing, received the information in much the
same way.

   There was quiet for a while longer, and then Bernadette tentatively
raised her hand half way.

   "Yes, Bernadette?" asked Flossie.

   "There was something I heard in school ...  when we were still in
Atlanta, and I never understood it."

   "What was that?" asked Flossie.

   "I don't know if I'll get in trouble for saying it," said Bernadette.

   Flossie smiled.  "We've already been over this.  The idea is to learn.
There isn't any such thing as a stupid question."

   "OK, then ...  said Bernadette, moving around in her seat.  "These girls
were talking about something they called a blow job.  What is that?"

   Flossie's heart fell.  Why, oh why, had she ever decided to do this
crazy thing?

   "I don't know if I can explain that," she said weakly.

   "Why not?" asked Ruth Ann, aware somehow that the explanation would be
very interesting.

   "Well ...  it's a little like ...  masturbation, I suppose," Flossie
said.  "It doesn't have a real purpose in reproduction ...  making a baby."
She looked at all the expectant faces in front of her.  "I suppose you
could call it something that ...  well I mean some people call it ... 
fun." She almost groaned, characterizing something like that as "fun" in
front of children.  "Maybe not fun," she said quickly.  "More like ... 
well I don't know WHY people do that, to be honest," she finally said in
frustration.

   "Do what?" asked Hilda Mae.  "You never said what it is."

   "Well ..." said Flossie, trying to delay the inevitable, "I guess the
proper term for it is oral sex."

   "Oral," said Johnnie Sue.  "Doesn't that mean mouth?" She looked
confused.

   "Yes," said Flossie miserably.  "It's where the mouth is used to provide
sexual stimulation."

   "Sex with the ...  mouth?" whispered Johnnie Sue.

   There was a general shifting of bodies in seats, and a mixed look on
faces, from flat disbelief, to something very akin to horror.

   "Why would anybody do that?!" asked Ruth Ann.

   Flossie slumped.  How did she get into these messes?

   "I suppose because it feels good.  Or at least some people think so, I
mean," she said heavily.  She didn't know what to say now.

   "How, exactly, does that work?" asked Ruth Ann, driving another spike
into Flossie's heart.

   "You children MUST remember that all this is just between us ...  here
at school.  Please understand that if ANY of the parents found out we
talked about this ...  well ...  there would probably be no more school ...
EVER!" she moaned.

   "We know that," said several children.

   Flossie knew more about oral sex than her students, primarily because,
in college, some of her girlfriends had tried to convince her that oral sex
was the best way in the world to control a man.  If done properly, it left
him limp, and unable to press on to the baby-making part.  And, if the man
could be convinced to service the woman, she had a great deal of fun too.
It wasn't characterized as birth control in these conversations, but that
was the intent.  Fun could be had without that penis getting where it would
do some real damage.  That was fine, though Flossie had never actually
taken the next step - actually trying it.  That was because she just didn't
go out on dates.  She went to a few parties, but always alone, and she
always left alone and went straight back to her room.  What she was
thinking now was that there was no earthly reason for children this age to
know anything about that kind of thing.  But it was another one of those
damn cats, let out of a bag you couldn't get it to go back inside.

   "All right," she said finally.  "I'm going to talk about it, but you
must understand that this is NOT part of a normal health class.  You
shouldn't even know about this kind of thing until you're grown up."

   That was her disorganized way of telling them this behavior was for
adults, and NOT for children.  It made sense in her own mind, but it didn't
come off quite that way to the children.

   "Sometimes, when a woman doesn't want to have sex with a man ...  maybe
because she's in heat and doesn't want to have a baby just then ...  she
uses her mouth on the man's penis."

   She stopped to see what the reaction was.  There were a lot of wide
eyes, but no questions.

   "I suppose it's a little like when he rubs his penis - masturbates.  It
feels good to him, and he can have an orgasm while she's doing that."

   "And the sperm comes out during an orgasm," whispered Bernadette,
looking somehow much less startled than Flossie would have expected her to.

   "Yes," said Flossie.

   "But ...  wouldn't it get in her mouth?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "Yes," said Flossie, not knowing what else to say.

   "But then it would be inside her," said Bernadette, looking very
serious. "And if it was inside her, wouldn't it still make her have a
baby?"

   Flossie almost laughed, but controlled the nervous instinct.

   "No, it doesn't work like that.  The egg drops down into the uterus. 
There's no connection between the stomach and the uterus, so sperm in the
stomach simply seems like ...  food ...  I guess ...  to the body." That
hadn't quite come out like she intended.  Then again, she hadn't intended
to talk about oral sex at all.

   "So that's what you meant when you said the woman does this if she
doesn't want to have a baby," said Johnny Sue.  "If the sperm stays in her
stomach, then she can't have a baby."

   "Yes," said Flossie.  She didn't know whether to say anything else or
not.

   Moses raised his hand.  "Is that what they mean when they say somebody's
a ...  cock sucker?"

   Flossie felt her face flush.  "Usually, that's a name they use as a
curse word ...  to vent anger.  But I suppose it came from what a woman
does during oral sex."

   "Boy, I'll bet THAT tastes yucky." said Ruth Ann.

   Flossie happened to be looking at Bernadette at the moment, or she
wouldn't have seen the slight shake of her head.  Then obviously,
Bernadette stopped her head and looked around.  Flossie felt the need to
avert her eyes, somehow knowing that Bernadette hadn't wanted anyone to see
her head movement.  Alarm flashed through Flossie.  If what she had seen
was an indicator that Bernadette somehow knew what semen tasted like,
something was horribly wrong!  Now she looked back at the girl, who was
looking at her.  There was nothing in her eyes except a slight look of
something that looked like relief.

   It occurred to Flossie, in that moment, that Bernadette might have
learned a whole lot more about 'blow jobs', back in Atlanta, than she was
letting on.  It didn't seem strange that the girl would be reluctant to say
she had performed one, in an effort to share that knowledge with the rest
of the class, or maybe validate her own experience.  How better than to ask
the question, exactly like she had, to discuss it without making herself
sound like a harlot?  Flossie's initial discomfort that a girl that young
might have engaged in oral sex gave way to the soothing thought that the
girl wasn't in the big city any more.  There were no boys around Catfish
Hollow who would be asking her for a blow job.  Maybe that was the relief
she had seen in the girl's eyes.  Flossie had surely never been interested
in finding out what sperm tasted like.

   "OK, so what does a man do to a woman, then?" asked Curtis Lee.

   Flossie just looked at him, dumfounded.  How did he know a man could
service a woman orally too?

   "I bet I know," said Jesse softly.  He looked up, his eyes wide, and
clamped both hands over his mouth.

   "What?" asked several of the kids.

   "Go ahead and tell them," said Luthor suddenly.  He looked surprised he
had spoken too.  Everyone else looked just as surprised.

   It took a few minutes, but with repeated urging, Jesse finally told them
about his observations of Boomer and Daisy.  "That's what I was talking
about when I asked that question a little while ago," he said.  When he was
done all eyes turned to Flossie expectantly.

   It was actually easier than she had thought it would be five minutes
earlier.  Tying it to similar behavior in animals made it easier.

   "Yes, it's very similar to that.  Licking the vulva is said to produce
very pleasurable feelings for the woman." she admitted.

   "Vulva?" asked Luthor.

   Flossie got up and went to the board.  She made an admittedly crude
drawing of a woman's sexual organs on the board, pointing to each part and
naming it for them with the proper name.

   "So that's almost like masturbation for a woman too," said Nathan,
looking interested.  "Like when she's rubbing herself."

   "Yes," said Flossie weakly.

   "But people pee from those parts!" said Johnnie Sue.

   "Yes," said Flossie.  Some perverse force drove her on.  "You're
probably not aware of it, but urine is actually sterile when it is first
expelled out of the body.  There have been cases, in the desert, where
people have been saved from dying of thirst by drinking urine."

   There was a chorus of the expected moans, groans and denials.  Flossie
left it at that, feeling that she just might have put a lid on all this
interest about oral sex.

   That comment had, it seemed, put a damper on the discussion.  When no
more questions were forthcoming, Flossie gave them the day off, a little
early, since they had spent only an hour with the discussion.  She also
suggested that, unless they had more questions in the near future, health
class was finished.  She wanted it to be finished.  She agreed to make
herself available for private questions, but suggested that if the answer
was important enough, there might be a class on it in the future.  They
seemed satisfied as they trailed out of the room.

   Flossie glanced out to see the Wilson children biking away from school.
The fact that they were willing to ride bikes instead of demand a car ride
made her feel good.  Maybe they were getting less spoiled after all,
thought Flossie as she erased the picture off the board and straightened
the desks into rows again.

   When she went outside, no children were in sight.  All of them seemed to
have been in a hurry to get home.

   ========================================

   The mood in the small group that was the Wilson children, wasn't nearly
as subdued as Flossie might have thought, even though they rode quietly, at
first, each busy with his or her own thoughts.  Finally Nathan broke the
silence.

   "I'm glad you don't have to worry about being pregnant," he said. 
Everyone knew who he was addressing.

   "Me too," said Bernadette in a long sigh.

   "I thought I'd die when you asked her about blow jobs," giggled Hilda
Mae.  She looked sideways at her sister.  "How come you never said anything
about that before?"

   "Before ...  all this ..." said Bernadette, stopping suddenly, "we never
talked about sex at ALL!"

   Her siblings stopped with her.

   "I guess that's right," admitted Hilda Mae.

   "It's a lot more complicated than I thought," said Bernadette, starting
to pedal slowly again.  "Before this I just thought that you got married,
and you just knew what to do somehow, and you started having babies because
you wanted to." She stood up on the pedals as she proceeded.  "Now I find
out that my monthlies are actually what tells me when I'm likely to have a
baby!  Mamma didn't say anything about all that.  She just said it was part
of growing up and that she was happy for me!

   "Me too," said Hilda Mae.  "So what?"

   "Well!" snorted Bernadette.  "What ELSE haven't they told us?  If it
hadn't been for us coming to this town, and Miss Flossie telling us all
this, we'd still think babies came from the STORK!"

   Hilda Mae laughed.  "We never thought that," she giggled.

   "Well, we might as well have," said Bernadette unhappily.

   "What are you so mad about?" asked Nathan.  "You found out what you
wanted to know, didn't you?"

   "Yes..." she moaned theatrically, "but now all I can think about is what
ELSE Mamma and Daddy haven't told us.  Don't you remember Mamma shouting
for Daddy to suck on something?  What was THAT all about.  Were they having
oral sex?"

   Both of her siblings looked shocked.  It is very difficult for most
children to contemplate the possibility that the parents they have known so
long, might engage in behaviors completely unsuspected, and so patently odd
sounding to inexperienced minds.

   "That's just too weird," said Hilda Mae, shaking her head.  "I can't
believe that."

   "Nobody would believe we did what we did," said Nathan.

   "I guess that's true," agreed Hilda Mae.  "Are we going to do that
again?"

   "Do you want to?" asked Nathan, hedging.  He knew how excited he'd been
while he jerked off in front of his sisters.  It was the best orgasm he'd
ever had in his whole life.  It also made him feel a lot better about
fantasizing about them, to find out that they wanted to see him too.

   "I do," said Hilda Mae without thinking about it.

   Bernadette knew she was expected to say something.  Her worry about
possibly being pregnant had cooled her ardor somewhat, but now that she
knew getting sperm in her mouth couldn't hurt her, she was remembering the
unique taste.  Her stomach growled and the idea that she was hungry, and
thinking about swallowing sperm at the same time seemed ludicrously funny
somehow.  She started laughing.  Her brother and sister looked at her like
she was crazy.

   "I guess I do too," she said, wiping her eyes.

   "What was so funny?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Nothing," said Bernadette.  "Now, let's hurry up and get home so we can
do our chores.  I don't know about you, but I don't want to have anything
to do after supper." She followed that up with one hand reaching to lightly
touch the front of her brother's pants.  "And I don't want YOU to have
anything to do either."

   Both she and Hilda Mae burst into giggles and started pedaling as fast
as they could, leaving Nathan to gaze after them, blood flowing into his
prick, excitement already pumping the blood through his veins at an
accelerated pace.  He caught them easily with his stronger legs, but he
passed them, instead of asking them to stop.  He pdealed hard, trying to
work so hard that he wouldn't be stiff when he got home.

   ========================================

   The conversation between Johnnie Sue, Luthor, Jesse and Moses was of a
similar nature.  They too, were silent as they struck out at a rapid pace,
going away from the school house.  They didn't intend to go anywhere
quickly, they just had a lot of ...  nervous energy ...  in their young
bodies.

   "That's pretty weird," said Luthor, as they walked along.  "About that
oral sex stuff, I mean."

   Nobody else said anything.  Moses being present put a damper on what
they could talk about.  While it was true he had been semi-naked in front
of them, he wasn't a blood brother, so everything else they had done was
secret, even from him.

   "I cain't imagine a girl wanting to do that," said Moses finally. 
"Course I cain't imagine a girl wanting me to put my pecker inside her
neither."

   "She would if she liked you enough," said Johnnie Sue.

   She, like Bernadette, slowed as she said it, and then stopped, but for a
different reason.  She hadn't planned on saying that.  But what surprised
her most was that, for the first time, she had contemplated letting a boy
put his penis inside HER!  Up until this last week, that mysterious, foggy
process - sex - had been something she knew existed, but had no bearing on
her own life.  It was something other people did.  But, during a week of
explosive exploration, she had found that sex DID have a part in her life.
She had known instantly, as her pussy muscles convulsed around her own
finger, that having something inside her was wonderful.  She hadn't quite
gotten to the point where she thought about that something being a penis,
rather than her finger, but as he had said those words, Moses had sparked
something in her mind that told her "I'd let a boy do that if I liked him
enough." She wasn't thinking about any particular boy ...  just the concept
...  and that is what led her to say what she had said.

   "You really think so?" asked Moses, sounding hopeful.

   "I'm pretty sure," said Johnnie Sue.  She looked at her two best friends
...  her blood brothers ...  evaluating them as potentially being the boy
who might be the first to put something other than a finger inside her. 
She didn't feel anything either way, really.  She liked them more, in fact,
than she liked anybody else her age, but she just couldn't imagine one of
them doing to her what they had learned about in school.  Had she thought
about it more carefully, she might have realized that, a week ago, had she
asked herself the question "Would I let them watch me rub my coochie?" the
answer would have been the same.  She wouldn't have been able to imagine
that.

   Johnnie Sue couldn't really be faulted, though, for not thinking about
things in an intellectual fashion.  In fact, Flossie, who knew much more
about sex than her students had, was sadly lacking in knowledge of the one
area of sexual behavior that was probably the most important, when it came
to teaching youngsters about sex.

   That area, the one she had not covered, because she didn't have any
experience in it herself, was in how strong the urge to mate can be, and
how to control it.

   Chapter 15

   There was no interaction between any of the young people in Flossie's
'sexual education' class that night.

   Jesse's parents were going to a neighbor's, for supper and to visit that
night, so he couldn't dally on the way home.  It was inconceivable to
Johnnie Sue and Luthor, because they did everything together, to do
anything together without him being there.  Neither of them even thought
about it.

   At the Wilson house, there were television programs on that night that
both parents wanted to see, and they stayed up late enough that their
children could not experiment further.

   Sexual tension built, during the hiatus of experimentation.

   =======================================

   True to her word, Flossie did not revisit health class the next day. 
When the older children stayed, she worked on Geometry, using a textbook
printed in 1918, that had been donated to the college by the white High
School that had replaced them in 1932.  They had sat around in storage
until someone thought to offer them to the college.  No one had thought it
was a slap in the face of the institution of higher learning to receive
High School hand-me-down textbooks that had been out of print for decades.
She was allowed to keep it when she finished the class.  It had cost her
fifty cents.

   Her students saw the application for Geometry almost instantly, in terms
of how it could apply to farming.  They eagerly soaked up the information.

   =======================================

   For the next two weeks, the population of Catfish Hollow enjoyed the
brief break between harvest and the new planting cycle.  It was the one
time of the year when people got together to chat, and share meals, and
swap news, or stories, without having to hurry off home because there was
work that had to be done.  The children were always taken along on visits
between families.  Parents stayed up later in the evening.

   And, while the Wilsons were not invited to share in this social splurge,
the Wilson children were likewise denied the opportunity to further explore
the new sexuality they had discovered.  That's because Harvey and Marian's
sex life was, perhaps not oddly, tied to stress in their lives.  When
things were difficult, they sought release together, in the bedroom.  When
things went more or less smoothly, they were satisfied to sit and watch TV.
Basically, the only time they went to bed early, was when Marian knew her
husband needed some relief from whatever stress was causing him to get
ugly. Music is not all that soothes the savage beast.

   And sexual tension continued to build.

   To be sure, there was the odd opportunity to masturbate.  Bernadette and
Hilda Mae now did so whenever the mood struck them, which was almost
nightly.  Quite often one would start, and the other would join her sister,
inflamed by what she heard in the bed next to her.  If they heard their
brother through the wall, it was the same.

   But, for them and the others, the sharing of sexual feelings seemed so
much better when a member of the opposite sex was involved.  They had sweet
orgasms, but those orgasms didn't quite quell the urge, quite often leaving
them still excited.  Where once a night had been enough in the past, the
desire to feel that sweet release became stronger, and more frequent.  In
the case of Jesse, his mother came to his bed to see if he was sick,
because he was tossing and turning so much in the night.  At least that's
what she thought it was.  The squeaking of his bed springs couldn't be
anything else, after all.

   And each day, at school, the girls got to see the boys, and the boys got
to see the girls.  There were long, lingering looks between some of them,
some noticed by the other, and some not.  The unfortunate part was that
Flossie didn't recognize what her eyes didn't try to see.

   Perhaps "unfortunate" isn't exactly the right word.  It all depends on
how we look at things from our own vantage point these days.  Integration,
outside the Catfish Hollow Public School, was still years away, court
ordered or not.  There was trouble about it in the larger towns and cities,
and that trouble was getting more and more visible.  The NAACP was testing
more cases of what, until now, had been lawfully mandated segregation, and
people of color were beginning to demand their rights as they saw them
described in the Constitution.  That whites interpreted the same words
differently was, back then, simply a matter of habit.  Colored people were
inferior.  They weren't "men" in terms of all men having been created
equal. Of course these days we know that a man is a man, regardless of his
skin color.  A white life can be saved by the transplant of a vital organ
from a black donor.  DNA research indicates there is less than .0000001
percent difference between the DNA of a black person, and that of a white
person.  The genetic differences are about the same as those of the animal
commonly called "dog".  They look vastly different, but they're all the
same beast, on a genetic level.

   And, while whites couldn't explain it, "separate, but equal" didn't mean
"equal".  Not in the South.  The mixture of races was still taboo, and the
strongest taboo of all was sexual mixture of the races.  That was the other
reason people resisted integration.  It was assumed that, if colored and
white children mixed, they would mix in all ways, including sexual, and
that was not to be tolerated.

   They were right, even though they didn't have any proof of it.

   That was something that also had strange rules, though.  Ever since the
Negro had been purchased and brought to the U.S., white men had looked on
black women as sexual partners.  While a white man would never think of
sharing food with a nigger, fucking one, perhaps the most intimate kind of
contact imaginable, was commonly accepted.  And, it was accepted by both
white men AND white women.  True, it wasn't talked about.  But white women
knew it happened, and they made no bones about it, because, as they saw it,
black women weren't really ...  women.  They were sub-human ...  little
more than animals.  No one thought it strange that a white woman who would
flay her husband alive, if caught fucking a sheep, would turn a blind eye
to him impregnating a young, shapely slave.  And, men who were willing to
take a black woman gainst her will, were also the kind of men that white
women weren't enthusiastic about being in bed with either.  If the Master
spent his lust on the slave women, that meant less time that the Mistress
had to endure him in her own bed.

   This incomprehensible (to us) and complex social structure began when
the first slaves were bought, though the folks in America in the 1950s
probably didn't know that.  The slave traders bought their black slaves ...
those sub-humans ...  from OTHER black men.  Tribes in Africa raided each
other for slaves routinely, and when the white man happened by, and saw the
advantages of slave labor, he ignored the fact that the seller was exactly
like the product.  White men would do business with sub-humans, somehow
seeing them as business partners.  The product they purchased, however, was
not seen as human at all.

   None of it made any sense.  That's because it was all based on emotion
and greed, rather than intellect.  Emotion often leads us astray.  Greed
always does.

   At any rate, while desegregation was years away in most of America, it
had a jump start that would probably equal twenty years in Flossie's little
classroom.  Her students, as hundreds of thousands would in the next twenty
years, found that, once you looked past that .0000001 percent genetic
difference, what you were left with was just another kid, who had the same
interests, dreams and desires that you did.  For those children, it was
relatively simple.  The tooth fairy was a myth.  So was Santa Claus.  Toads
didn't really give a person warts.  Lots of people didn't live happily ever
after.  Parents and other adults lied, and were found to be fallible.  They
hid things from children, and some of the things they hid, like sex, were
VERY important, once they were discovered.  Why, then, should they believe
what those parents and adults said about race?

   Racism wasn't dead in the Catfish Hollow Public School, but it had been
dealt a mortal blow.  Had it taken twenty years to deal that blow, things
might have been much better.  There would be innocent bystanders caught in
the storm that was to follow, and, had it been twenty years later, it might
not have been so painful.

   Then again, there are those who say everything happens for a reason. 
What would soon happen to the students of the Catfish Hollow Public School
would have far reaching effects on hundreds, perhaps thousands of people,
some day.  And those effects would include more good ones than bad.

   =======================================

   The first thing that happened was that Nathan got a letter in the mail.
It was completely unexpected, primarily because it was from the Kansas City
Metropolitan Police Department.  Nathan hadn't written to them.  He had
written, he thought, to the "Casey" Police Department, in Georgia, a town
just outside of Atlanta.  He had chosen that one because Atlanta now seemed
too big a place to be a policeman in, at least in the beginning.

   He had heard people talk about Casey while he lived in Atlanta, but
didn't know how to spell it.  "KC" seemed reasonable to him, and in those
days before zip codes were the rule, mail got sent wherever a postal clerk
thought it should go.  His letter happened to be handled by a man who had
lived in Kansas City before the war, and then moved to Atlanta after the
war, where a buddy lived who had saved his life.  That man threw the letter
in the bag going to Missouri, and when it got there, it went to the "KC"
Police Department.

   It was the first letter that had ever been received in the Wilson
household that was not addressed to either Harvey or Marian, and it caused
a sensation.  Marian presented it to her son, with great fanfare when
supper was done, calling it "dessert".

   "It looks all official," she said excitedly.  "Though I don't for all
the tea in China know what 'KCMOPD' stands for." She peered closely at the
return address.  The clerk that had sent the letter had typed only part of
the return address on the envelope before being distracted by another task.
The rest, including the city and state, was left off.  That was to turn out
to be a fortuitous event, at least as far as Nathan went.  Had his mother
known what was in the letter, it would never have been given to him.

   Nathan looked at it.  PD had to mean Police Department.  He felt a
thrill go down his spine.  He tore it open and read.

   The letter explained that, upon receipt of a bonafide High School
diploma, they would happily consider his application for employment as a
police officer in the metropolis of Kansas City, Missouri.  It went on to
say that, if his grade point average was 3.5 or above, his acceptance was
merely a formality.  When they had the diploma, along with a letter
certifying his grade point average, he could fill out an application, take
the necessary tests, and attend the academy.

   Marian almost collapsed while contemplating that her baby might go what
seemed like thousands of miles away, clear up in hated Yankee country.  If
he did, she'd never get to see her son again, or any grandbabies he sired,
because there was no way in the world she could find her way, and she
doubted that Harvey would even think about driving her all the way there.
She basically lived the next twenty years of her AND Nathan's lives in her
imagination, and it wasn't pretty.

   Harvey, still on barely speaking terms with his son, didn't know what to
say or do.  The thought that his disappointing and uppity son might
disappear and leave him in peace wasn't all that unpleasant.  At the same
time, he recognized something in his wife's behavior that warned him this
was serious.  He knew, somehow, that he would not be able to dictate to
Nathan what would happen ...  or not happen, as it were ...  and that left
him more or less helpless.  Harvey didn't like feeling helpless.

   That his daughters were also distressed by this news also bothered him.
He would have thought they'd be happy to see him go too, seeing as how he
had embarrassed the entire family, but that was decidedly NOT the response
they displayed.  They, in fact, started crying in their cups, along with
their mother!

   For Nathan, the electricity of getting a job offer that would take him
away from "all this", caused a surge of emotion that left him grinning
inanely.  Then his mother fell to pieces, and he didn't know how to feel.
His sisters joined her, and he suddenly felt guilty somehow.

   Everyone went to their bedrooms early that night.

   Only Harvey and Marian stayed there, though, easing the pain in each
other as was their habit.

   When Marian was upset, she liked sex that was rough enough to take her
mind off her troubles.  She was troubled enough, that she wanted VERY rough
sex this night, and she was troubled enough that she forgot to send the
children away somewhere while she got it.  And get it she did.  Harvey gave
it to her rough ...  and loud.

   They didn't even have to leave their rooms to hear it this night.

   "How about THAT, bitch!" came Harvey's rough voice, through the walls.

   "YOU BASTARD, YOU KNOW I LOVE THAT!" screamed his wife.

   "YOU WANT ME TO FUCK ANOTHER BRAT IN YOUR BELLY TONIGHT?!" he raged. 
"TO TAKE THE PLACE OF THAT WORTHLESS SON YOU WORKED SO HARD TO RAISE?"

   "HE'S NOT WORTHLESS!" she screamed.  "YES ...  FUCK ME PREGNANT YOU
COCKSUCKER!" she howled.

   "I'M NOT THE COCKSUCKER IN THIS HOUSE, YOU WHORE!" growled Harvey.  "YOU
WANT TO SUCK IT NOW?"

   "NOOOOOOOOO, JUST FUCK ME HARDER HARVEEEEEYYYYYY"

   "THEY CAN PROBABLY HEAR US, BITCH!  YOU WANT THEM TO HEAR US?"

   "AHHHHHHHH, I DON'T FUCKING CARE, JUST POUND ME YOU BASTARD!"

   It was shocking in an almost unbelievable way.  Had they not been
through health class, Nathan would have beaten down the door to save his
mother.  But, health class, while it had not approached covering THIS kind
of sex, had expanded their consciousness about sex, at least a little, and
they, themselves, had done things that would have been unthinkable just a
short time earlier.  That other unthinkable things might be done
voluntarily ...  intentionally even ...  was no longer outside the realm of
possibility.

   The girls tears over Nathan dried, as they sat, pale and frightened,
until they heard, in their mother's voice, that the words didn't really
mean what they sounded like.  It was clear, incomprehensible as it seemed,
that this was some game they played ...  something they did out of some
kind of twisted need.  The girls calmed, and then their own ...  need ...
manifested itself.

   Nathan, too, heard the words.  He recognized them for what they were
too, but the effect on him was different.  That his mother ...  his staid,
proper, dignified, gentle mother, whom he had lusted after until his
sisters took her place in his dreams ...  that she could use that kind of
language ...  could abide being called a whore and a cocksucker ...  made
her into a stranger to him.  That his father could treat her like that made
his blood run cold.  The first thing he thought about was his father
treating his sisters like that too.  He got up and left his room, opening
their door and walking into their room as if he owned the place.

   "Nathan!" squeaked Hilda Mae.  She was sitting ramrod straight on the
edge of her bed.

   "Come on," he said.  "We're getting out of here."

   "What?" asked Bernadette.  His voice sounded like he meant forever.

   "There's no call for you to have to listen to that," he said tersely.

   "Where will we go?" she asked.

   "I don't know ...  just out ...  at least until they finish."

   "Oh," she said, relieved.  "OK."

   They crept through the house, as though they were making an escape,
stepping past squeaky boards they knew about, and cringing when they hit
one they didn't.  When they got outside they were still so stunned that
they just walked down the street together, no clear destination in mind.

   Nathan was so agitated that he stopped, his fists clenched as he faced
his sisters.

   "If any man ever treats you like that I'll kill him." he said, his voice
intense, but quiet.  It was clear that he meant it.

   The girls stared back at him, wide-eyed, and then followed as he started
off again.  Both stared at his back, a strange warmth creeping into them.
What they had heard through the walls scared them, because they, too,
couldn't reconcile the words, and imagined actions, as being any part of
their parents.  They felt threatened in a vague, unspoken kind of way. 
Nathan's vitriolic threat, though, made that fear quail.  They believed him
...  knew, somehow, that he would protect them, and that knowledge let
loose a flood of love and affection for their protector.  Danger or fear,
they say, can unleash passion, and the rush of gratitude each of them felt
for this boy they had grown up with, but who seemed like a new person to
them now, gave that passion an outlet.  At the same time, the contents of
the letter, and the implicit assumption that Nathan would leave them alone
with ...  what was back at the house ...  made Bernadette feel an almost
uncontrollable urge to clasp her brother in her arms and never let him go.
Her "breeding", however, prevented that display of public affection.

   "Nathan," said Bernadette, her voice low and husky.  "Let's go to the
fire Barn."

   He whirled, his jaw slack.  "How can you even THINK about doing that
now?" he asked, his voice still intense.

   She was taken aback, and stopped.

   "I'm afraid," she said helplessly, unable to fully communicate that
complicated fear.

   "I don't understand," he said, looking puzzled.

   "I just want to be somewhere safe ...  with you." she tried again.  Her
mind was in turmoil.  She was thinking of what she wanted to do with him,
but it was still too new to speak of plainly, casually.  Had she ever been
on dates, and faced that moment when each person wants to kiss the other,
but is unsure about whether they should, she might have recognized what she
was feeling.

   Nathan looked at Hilda Mae, whose emotions were just as fragmented and
tumultuous.  There was a single tear drop running down her cheek, and she
looked at him with something strange in her eyes.

   "OK," he said.

   They walked quickly, then, unaware that, while their earlier meandering
might have drawn attention, the sure stride that they now exhibited
suggested people with a place to go, and a task to complete.  That kind of
stride is almost invisible to the average person.  It served them well,
because people were still out and about in the town, and might have noticed
three youths "sneaking" into the fire barn.  Now, though, no one noticed
them.

   Once inside the building, the girls breeding lost sway, and they both
rushed to hug the man they most loved at that point in their young lives.
He didn't even have time to light the lamp before his arms were full of
soft girls, who sobbed quietly into the front of his shirt.  His natural
instinct was to stroke their hair, and murmur that everything would be all
right.  That led to light kisses on that hair, and his hands stroked their
backs.  He was not aware, at first, that both girls, in clasping him, had
straddled each of his thighs.  It was unconscious, to give the girls their
due.  They were simply venting emotion and passion, and the fact that they
ended up pressing their pussies against his hard thighs was simply a
function of both of them trying to hug him at the same time.  But the
pressure applied there communicated itself to subconscious minds, which
told the girls' bodies to "increase that pressure please", and, without
realizing it, they began to ...  rub.

   Passion flamed brighter, pushing the fear back.  Now the passion sought
the kind of release that would banish that fear, at least for the moment.
Bernadette raised her face, to ask him to light the lamp, and his lips,
which had been aimed at her hair, met, instead, her own lips.  The feel of
lips on lips was almost electric.  They had kissed each other in the past,
and, in the Southern tradition, it had often been on the lips.  But those
were quick pecks of duty, perhaps tinged with affection of some sort.  This
was something that was infused with passion so quickly that it resembled
lightning striking.

   Neither had kissed a lover before, and one would have thought it would
be awkward and stiff.  But their lips remained soft, and the urgency of the
almost electric shock caused a natural rubbing of those lips together,
lightly at first, and then with crushing force.  Wet, sucking sounds were
produced, and Hilda Mae looked up.  Nathan felt her head move in the
darkness, and sensed her lips were exposed, and the sudden wrench in his
gut from kissing Bernadette demanded that he kiss his younger sister too.
She was unprepared for that, but her passion was at high burn too, and she
went limp, surrendering to something she had never thought about doing
before.

   For perhaps five full minutes, the girls kissed their brother,
alternating, somehow sharing him without impatience, but eagerly looking
forward to their next turn with his soft lips.  Their loins rubbed eagerly
against his hard thighs.  That level of passion demanded something else,
though, and when that didn't happen, the passion cooled fractionally,
unhappy at being disappointed.  Nathan finally pulled back.

   "Let me light the lantern," he whispered.

   They let him go, but their touch was lingering in that way that
communicates it doesn't want to stop.  Nathan realized his penis was fully
hard.  He hadn't even felt it happen.  With the flare of the match, both
girls disappeared around the fire truck.  By the time he got to the tiny
living area, two shirts and bras were already on the cot, the girls' bare
breasts gleaming in the light.  Rushing away from something troubling, and
toward something exciting and pleasurable, even though it was brand new,
was an unthinking response to the situation.  Bernadette looked at him as
he came around the front of the truck, her fingers at the button on her
jeans.  Staring at him, she undid it, and then pushed the zipper down.  It
was loud in the silence.

   "Bernie?" husked Nathan.

   "I want to be naked this time," she said, passion in her voice.  Hilda
Mae didn't say anything.  She hadn't waited and was already pushing her
jeans to her ankles, her panties tangled with them.  One shoe flew through
the air as she kicked it wildly off.  She was so excited that, as soon as
her pants were off, she flopped onto the cot, making it creak, and her hand
went immediately between her legs.

   "You can't hog the cot," said Bernadette, shoving out of her own shoes
more gently and pulling her pants off.  She looked back at Nathan through
her eyelashes, coquettish without even knowing it, and slowly pushed her
panties to her knees, bending over.  She stepped out of them almost
daintily.  Her hand drifted to the auburn fluff on her mons, and tickled it
absently, roughing it up.  Hilda Mae was already rubbing furiously, while
Nathan goggled at them both.  "You can't hog the cot!" Bernadette repeated.
"Make some room for me."

   "Ohhhhh," moaned Hilda Mae, frustrated that she had to stop.  She
already felt like an orgasm was near.  She did stop, though, throwing a
dark look at her sister, and sat up, then stood.  She saw Nathan, standing
frozen and went to him, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

   "Hildy?" he whined.  He couldn't believe how beautiful she looked with
her mass of hair, uncut for as long as he could remember, tumbling around
her naked shoulders.  Her nipples looked huge and swollen.

   "I want to see you," she panted.  "I want to touch you."

   He stood, as Bernadette joined her sister in stripping him.  They knelt
together to pull his underwear down, pulling hard on it to get it to clear
his erect phallus.  Both sighed as they saw it.  Bernadette's hand reached,
grasped and stroked, slowly, languidly, uncovering his knob and then hiding
it again.  His pants and underwear were left, abandoned, clinging to his
thighs.

   "It's so beautiful," she sighed.

   Hilda Mae stood up and hugged her brother again, this time pushing her
wet pussy against his thigh intentionally, and using him to get the
pressure she wanted.  She lifted her face to his for more kisses, but he
ignored her, staring at Bernadette's hand, slowly sliding back and forth on
his rod.  Impatient, Hilda Mae reached for his cheek with one hand and
turned his head, standing on her tiptoes to reach his lips.  Her breasts
pushed into his side as she burrowed under his arm and he felt the heat of
them on his flesh.

   He kissed her and it was in the middle of that kiss that Bernadette,
staring at his stiff prick, inches from her face, remembered oral sex.  She
sniffed lightly, but didn't smell anything.  Then she leaned forward to
kiss the tip lightly, her lips soft, like they had been when she kissed his
lips.  The feel of his skin, so tight and shiny at the tip, was smooth like
nothing she'd ever felt before.  With hardly another thought, she pushed
the hood off the tip, opened her mouth, and leaned forward to suck the
knob.

   Nathan didn't know what was happening to him.  He felt the heat
surrounding the tip of his prick - a completely strange feeling - and
groaned into Hilda Mae's mouth.  That caused her lips to open, and his
tongue, part of the groan, touched her teeth and lips.  Her own instinct,
feeling something in her mouth, was to explore what that was with her own
tongue, and it slid against his.  Her urge to pull back was foiled as his
hand came up behind her head, his fingers dipping into her hair, and pulled
her face to his firmly.  His tongue pushed, the instinct to continue
something that felt so wonderful driving him to do something he'd never
even known could be done.  The tactile sensation for both of them burst and
he grunted again, his hips giving an unconscious thrust.

   Bernadette loved the feel of that hard, smooth knob in her mouth.  She
hadn't had time to determine if there was taste or not, but the feeling was
indescribable.  Suddenly that knob was forced further into her mouth, and
her lips and teeth felt the texture of the bumpy soft skin on the shaft of
his penis.  She lifted her teeth, automatically knowing they could hurt
him, and pulled back, dragging her lips along the shaft, to where the head
swelled into its spear shape, loving that feel too, so different than the
other.  She knew instantly that she liked doing this, and understood
instantly why a woman would want to do this over and over again.  She was
contemplating that thought when a rush of salty fluid filled her mouth. 
She knew instinctively what it was ...  had tasted it before.  She didn't
take the time to be upset that he hadn't warned her.  She just accepted
that this was part of the experience, and let the fluid fill her cheeks. 
His penis jerked in her mouth and she realized she'd need to swallow, or it
would run out of her mouth.  She swallowed twice, and felt the heat slide
down her gullet.  She imagined it plopping into her stomach, and sucked, in
an effort to get more.  She did as the penis released another surge of the
warm liquid.

   Nathan staggered from the intensity of the experience.  It had taken him
completely by surprise, and his orgasm had come upon him like a panther on
a dark night, taking him without warning in a rush of mind-numbing ecstasy.
His tongue planted firmly in his younger sister's mouth, and his prick
planted firmly in his older sister's mouth, his knees gave out and he had
to step back to catch his balance.  He staggered as his pants restricted
the movement of his legs.  His prick slurped wetly out of Bernadette's oral
clasp, and she moaned at the loss.  Hilda Mae lost her lip lock, and she
moaned too.  His prick gave a final convulsive clench, driving a weak
stream of goo onto Bernadette's chin as she leaned forward to recapture the
thing that had been so much fun to suck.

   Hilda Mae looked down to see her sister scooping that dribble up, and
into her open mouth, whereupon she closed her lips and swallowed audibly.
There was still a smear of white around her lips and on her chin.

   "What did you DO?" gasped Hilda Mae.  In truth, the unhappiness she felt
was centered primarily around the apparent fact that Bernadette had made
him squirt, and that Hilda Mae had missed seeing that.  Then, as Bernadette
tried to scoop more into her mouth, and licked her lips, Hilda Mae's brain
caught up with the fact that all that lovely spunk was ...  missing.  Where
it had gone was not hard to figure out.

   "You SWALLOWED IT ALL?" whined the younger girl.

   "Mmmmmm, it was yummy!" sighed Bernadette.

   "I can't believe you did that!" said Hilda Mae, feeling slightly faint.

   "I can't wait to do it again!" said Bernadette, feeling an unusual
energy in her body.  Her hand drifted between her legs, where she was still
squatting, and began to rub gently.  "It was wonderful." She sighed again.

   "You gave him a BLOW JOB?" squeaked Hilda Mae, her mind catching up with
events.

   "I sure did," said Bernadette, rubbing faster.  "You have to try that,
Hildy."

   "Ohhh man," moaned Nathan, weaving slightly.  He felt completely
drained. "Was THAT what that was?"

   "Uh huh," said Bernadette.  "How was it?"

   "Ohhh MAN!" groaned Nathan.  "I can't believe that.  I have to sit
down."

   There was an old wooden chair sitting by the wall.  He wobbled to it,
and it wobbled when he sat down on it.

   Hilda Mae, still fired up, possibly even more so by the knowledge of
what her sister had just done, went and lay down on the cot again.  She
spread her legs shamelessly, and began fingering her clitty.

   Nathan looked over at Bernadette, who was still squatting, and still
rubbing.  He looked back at Hilda Mae and curiosity drove him to stand,
pick up the chair, and move it to where he could see what he had never seen
before, more clearly.

   "What are you doing?" she asked, her hips giving a little involuntary
lift.

   "Watching you," he said, smiling.

   "I should be embarrassed," she panted.  "but I'm not."

   "I never thought I'd ever be sitting here, naked, watching my little
sister, naked." he said, shaking his hand.

   "I still can't believe she did that," panted Hilda Mae.  "What did it
feel like?"

   "I don't know," he smiled wryly.  "It happened so fast I can't hardly
remember it."

   "Did you like it?" she asked, rubbing a little faster.

   "Oh, yeah," he sighed.  "I've never felt anything like that before."

   "Do you want me to ....  I mean if I wanted to ...  would you let me?"
she asked, her eyes glittering.

   "I don't know," he said.  Then "It's all so strange."

   She started rubbing furiously, panting and bucking her hips.  She was
close, but she couldn't make the feeling come.  "Uhhhhh, she groaned in
frustration."

   "Doesn't that hurt?" he asked, watching her fingers mashing what looked
like two tight lips all around.  He could barely see them because of her
hand, but as it moved he got a glimpse every now and then.

   "Nooooooo," she moaned.  "It feels soooo gooood ...  but ..."

   "But what?" he asked.

   "I can't make it happen!" she gasped, finally sinking back.

   "Is it bothering you that I'm watching?" he asked.

   "I don't think so ...  no ...  I'm really not embarrassed at all.  You
put your tongue in my mouth!"

   Her change of subject confused him.  "What?"

   "When we were kissing, you put your tongue in my mouth.  How could I
ever be embarrassed about anything else again?" She sighed, still rubbing
gently.

   "Could I help?" he asked suddenly.

   "Huh?" she was surprised by the question.

   "Well ...  you helped with me ...  the other day I mean.  Maybe I could
help you."

   Bernadette gave out a loud groan that turned into a long sigh.  She lost
her balance as her orgasm washed over her and fell backwards, to land with
a thump on her rear, legs splayed out, hand still pressing her clitty.  She
caught herself with her other hand.

   "Ohhh damn, that feels good," she moaned.

   "Bernie!" chastised her brother, looking over at the noises.

   "Well it does!" she sighed.

   "You want to touch me?" asked Hilda Mae, feeling a surge of new
excitement run through her loins.  Oddly, she had never thought about
Nathan touching her, like she had touched him.

   "If you want," he offered.

   "OK," she said.  She took her hand away, and suddenly felt exposed, with
her young legs spread and her privates displayed for a male for the first
time in her life.  "I think," she added.

   "You'll have to tell me what to do," he said, getting up and going to
the cot.

   She showed him her bump, flushing furiously as she pulled those tight
lips apart with two fingers, and touched the bump with another.

   "Right there.  That bump.  It feels wonderful when I rub it."

   He reached a finger and pushed at the bump.  She hissed.  His finger was
dry, and even though she had some slippery substance all over, his finger
absorbed it and skidded.  She jumped.  Logic told him to lick his finger,
to make it slippery too, and he did, tasting her juices faintly.  That
taste was something he hadn't thought about, and it blossomed in his mind.
He stared at her slit, still pulled open by her fingers.  For the first
time he saw the darkness of a small hole that led up into her.  Her ... 
vagina?  Wasn't that what Miss Flossie had called it?  A penis was supposed
to go in that small hole?  Impossible.  His little finger would fill it
completely!

   "Nathan!" huffed Hilda Mae.  "Touch me!"

   He sucked his finger again, and returned it to her bud.  Now it slid
across the bump easily, the bump somehow moving to one side.  He drew his
finger back gently, and made a game out of trying to rub directly across
the top of it.  It didn't cooperate, evading his efforts, sliding this way
and that as her hips bucked.

   "Yessss, like that," she panted.

   He felt his prick move, and looked down to see it had grown to half
hard. It still felt satisfied, but was hardening again anyway.  While he
was looking his finger slipped off her clitty and slid into the small hole
down to the first knuckle.

   "OWW" yipped Hilda Mae, her head lifting.  "What did you do?"

   "Sorry," he said, pulling his finger back out.  He felt some
constriction on one side of it, as if something were dragging against it
... just on one side.  "I slipped."

   Nathan had no way of knowing that some hymens fill the vaginal channel,
while others cover only part of it.  Hilda Mae's was of the latter type. 
When his finger had slid in, it happened to be positioned on the side that
wasn't blocked, but the width of his finger had stretched the half circle
of tissue as it invaded, causing the pain.  It hadn't torn, but it had
complained.  Just the hymen had complained, though ...  the rest of her
pussy flesh had welcomed the pressure on it.

   "Do that again," panted Hilda Mae.

   "What?" he asked.

   "Put your finger in ...  just a little.  I never did that before.  It
feels ..." She couldn't describe how it felt.

   Nathan carefully inserted his finger again.  It struck an obstruction
almost immediately, and she winced.

   "That's where it hurts," she said.

   He shifted his finger, probing gently, and found a way deeper.  He slid
his finger in very slowly.  Bernadette appeared at his side, on her hands
and knees.

   "What are you doing?" she asked, staring at the finger as it slowly went
in.

   "STOP!" yelped Hilda Mae, as her hymen was stretched again.  "Ohhhh ...
I like it, but it hurts!"

   Nathan, in masturbating himself, had always moved his hand up and down
his shaft.  It only seemed natural to slide his finger in and out of this
fascinating hole.  He did so gently, pushing his finger away from the
barrier that caused her pain.

   "Mmmm, that's better," she sighed.  "It doesn't hurt so much that way."

   "That's your maidenhead!" said Bernadette, her voice hushed.

   "What's that?" asked Hilda Mae, her hips starting to move again.

   "Annie caught me rubbing one time," said Bernadette.  "She said that was
bad, but wouldn't talk about it.  But she said to be sure I never stuck
anything up in me or I'd tear my maidenhead and it would hurt.  She said
I'd bleed."

   "When was that?" gaped Hilda Mae.

   "I don't know ...  two or three years ago I guess," said Bernadette.

   "You were rubbing clear back then?!?" gasped Hilda Mae, her hips moving
more.  She winced as her movements caused Nathan's finger to penetrate her
further.  "Ohhhh my goodness that feels good."

   "I've been rubbing since the first time I bled," said Bernadette
off-handedly.  "The first pad I had to wear rubbed against me and it felt
good.  That's how I learned how to do it."

   "It hurts too much now, Nathan," complained Hilda Mae.  "Rub my bump
some more."

   Nathan pulled his finger out.  Her thin lips had thickened, and gotten
darker.  He pulled them apart and exposed her clitty, which was easily
visible.  He absently put the finger in his mouth he had penetrated her
with, and sucked at the tart juice on it.

   "What are you doing?!" gasped Bernadette, watching her brother.

   He realized what he had done.  "I don't know.  She tastes good." His
brow wrinkled.  "Didn't you say I tasted good?"

   "Yes, but ..." said Bernadette.

   Nathan stared at the bump, and Hilda Mae spread her legs farther in
frustration because he wasn't rubbing it.

   "Nathan!" she moaned.

   Much as Bernadette had taken his prick in her mouth without really
thinking about it, Nathan decided to taste her at the source.  He leaned in
and pressed his pursed lips around the bump, pushing his tongue against it.
It evaded his tongue tip, just like it had evaded his fingertip.  He darted
is tongue all around it.

   Hilda Mae basically went nuts.

   Her head raised up off the cot and she stared.  Then, as her head
flopped back down to bounce two inches off the canvas, her heels came under
her knees, and she launched her pussy up into Nathan's face.

   "AHHHHHHHHHHH!" she almost screamed.

   Bernadette's shock was tempered by the scream.  It didn't sound exactly
like her sister was in pain, but it was loud.  She slapped Nathan's naked
back, and went "SHHHHHHHHHH!"

   Nathan sucked, drawing the slippery little bud in between his lips as
much as he could.  It was so hard to get hold of that it frustrated him,
somehow, and he tried to nip at it.  What neither of them had been able to
do with their fingers, was accomplished quite suddenly with his sucking
lips.  His face got wet as Hilda Mae squealed until Bernadette put her hand
over her sister's mouth.  Then she flopped, alternating between being rigid
in every muscle, and then going completely limp, just to do it all over
again.  Only Nathan's superior weight let him keep his mouth glued to her
orgasming pussy.

   Nathan would have gone on eating her pussy forever, but eventually her
hands batted at his head as the stimulation got uncomfortable.  He rose up,
grinning from ear to ear, his face shiny with her juices.  He knew he had
made her happy, and few things make a man feel as good as when a woman is
that happy because of something he did.

   Hilda Mae pushed Bernadette's hand away from her mouth, and started
gasping as if she'd run as far as she could and then fallen down because
she was completely out of oxygen.  Her throat continued to make little
mewling sounds, and her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing.  Her hair
was a mess, having flown all around as she shook her head at an orgasm that
had almost claimed her consciousness.

   "He ..." she gasped, trying to talk.  "He ..." but she couldn't get more
than just that one word out before she had to gasp air back into her lungs.

   "Are you OK?" asked Bernadette.

   "Uh ...  huh" panted Hilda Mae.

   "Wow," said Bernadette, staring at her sister.  She expected Hilda Mae
to look different somehow, after having that done to her.  But she didn't.
She just looked like she was very tired, and very, very happy.

   There was a sudden movement by the fire truck, and Bernadette saw it out
of the corner of her eye.  She turned to see Curtis Lee standing there in
the dim light, his eyes round and white.

   "What are YOU DOING HERE?" she almost screamed.  She didn't know what to
do.  That she was naked ...  that all of them were naked ...  was
definitely part of her thought process.  But higher than that in her mind,
and demanding much more attention, was the fact that someone had seen them
...  and would tell.  She almost fell apart.

   Nathan and Hilda Mae hadn't seen the intruder until Bernadette screamed,
but they did as soon as they turned their heads.  Nathan jumped up, his own
fight or flight syndrome working hard in his body.

   Curtis Lee held up a hand.  He was panting.  "Mr.  Parsons sent me over
here to get a wrench he needs for working on his tractor.  I need to get
that wrench and get it back to him or he'll come looking."

   Bernadette charged him, tripping and falling to her knees in front of
him, wailing, pleading and crying for him not to tell.  He tried to back
up, but her hands gripped his cotton pants in a death grip.

   "Tell her to let go, Nathan," said Curtis Lee.  "I got to get that
wrench to Mr.  Parsons or he'll come here!"

   Nathan sensed, somehow, that Curtis Lee was actually trying to help
them. He went to Bernadette, and pried her hands away from Curtis Lee's
pants.  Curtis Lee went instantly to a big table and started sorting
through wrenches.  "There!" he grunted, holding up a silver tool.  He
stepped sideways, staring at the girls, who were now trying to cover their
bodies.

   "White folks is crazy!" he said explosively, so rattled by what he had
seen that he lost his normal cultured speech.  He edged closer to the exit,
not turning his back.

   "Pleeeeease," wailed Bernadette, her hands reaching out to him again.

   Curtis Lee couldn't help but stare.  His hand strayed to the front of
his pants and pressed against his erection.  He had entered the shed in
time to see Hilda Mae's orgasm.  He recognized, based on the health class,
exactly what he was seeing, but he hadn't visualized it quite like this. 
He'd never seen a naked girl, especially not a white girl, and that looked
different than he'd thought it would too.  Both girls looked so slim and
delicate and soft.  He thought about the fact that he was looking at two
naked white girls, and that he had a boner, and a stab of fear shot through
him.

   "I won't tell," he said, jerking his hand away from his pants and
holding it out, as if to ward them off.  "I'll see you in school tomorrow,"
he said, looking surprised.  "I won't tell," he said again.  Then he turned
and sprinted for the door as if ghosts were after him.

   ==================================

   It wasn't quite panic that ensued in the fire barn when Curtis Lee left.
There was too much despair to allow the energy that panic produces.  The
Wilson children got dressed, more quickly than they had undressed, even,
and after Nathan peered out the door into the gloom of evening, to make
sure the coast was clear, they moved out as a group.

   Curtis Lee owed them nothing.  They had, they now knew, been cruel to
him when they first arrived.  Their world view had changed to the point
that they could view their own actions through others' eyes.  They had
never apologized to him ...  or any of the others, for that matter. 
Knowing you're wrong is one thing.  Admitting it to others is something
else.  They also knew that brothers and sisters didn't act this way in any
other family they'd ever heard of ...  instinctively knew it was something
others would not approve of.  As much as they hoped Curtis Lee wouldn't say
anything, they had no reason to believe he would keep his promise.

   Going home was part of the dread they felt, but it wasn't because of
what they'd left there.  Now it was because that, now that someone else
knew about their activities, it was easy to believe that their parents did
too.  That dread showed even more plainly on their faces when they found
their father, sitting up in the dim living room, waiting for them.  His
hair was uncombed, and he was sitting in just pants and an undershirt,
something they had never seen him do before.  The television was on, but
turned down so low they couldn't hear the words.

   "Where have you been?" he asked as they trooped in, looking
uncomfortable.

   "Took a walk," said Nathan nervously, just barely able to meet his
father's eyes.

   "Your mother is resting," said Harvey.  "She's upset."

   "I guess so," agreed Nathan.  Warily he looked around.  If Curtis had
come here, the house would be in an uproar.

   Harvey looked at them.  They looked scared shitless.  He almost smiled,
thinking that they must have heard.  She was louder than usual this time.
Him too.  Always before they had saved that kind of thing for when the
children were gone somewhere.  Once in a while he came home from the bank
for that.  But it had been a long time since she'd needed that.  She only
tolerated it under special circumstances.  He loved dominating her, hurting
her just a little, and, once in a very long while, she loved having it
done. Still, if they'd heard, they wouldn't understand.  Hell, sometimes HE
didn't understand why she needed that kind of thing.  Not that he minded.
It took an effort on his part not to leave bruises.  But these children
wouldn't understand.  He had to say something ...  in case they'd heard.

   "I love your mother," said Harvey, his fingers twitching on the arm of
the chair.

   "That so," said Nathan, making noise, rather than real conversation.

   "Yes it is!" said Harvey, frowning.  "I've always loved her since the
first day I laid eyes on her, and I'll love her until the day I die!"

   This was NOT the kind of thing the Wilson children were accustomed to
hearing their father say.  They stared at him, huddled together without
knowing it.  The girls still had the instinctive feeling that Nathan was
their protector.

   "There are things you'll understand when you're older," said Harvey,
wanting to go back to bed.  "Clean up the supper dishes for her," he
ordered.

   "Yes sir," said Nathan automatically.

   Harvey almost smiled again.  If the boy could be spooked that easily,
maybe he could still be handled.  Harvey didn't care if the boy went to
Kansas City or California.  But before he went, maybe things could be
engineered so that Marian needed a little more of what he had just given
her.  Maybe he could start by telling her they HAD heard her sluttish
cries. Yes, he would abase her, and then climb on board another time to
take what was his.

   ======================================

   The fear and dread left them slowly, as they cleaned up together.  By
the time the dishes were washed, dried and put away, and the leftovers put
in covered dishes in the icebox, it was clear that nothing was going to
happen.  The relief left them weak, physically, but revived their spirits.

   Their feet dragged on the way to their bedrooms.  As they walked by
their parents room, they heard the bed springs squeaking rhythmically. 
There were no shouts this time.  It seemed unreal, somehow.

   They got to the girls' room first, and Nathan stopped.

   "Are you really going to go off to Kansas City?" asked Hilda Mae softly.

   "I don't know," said Nathan.  He hadn't had time to really think about
it.  Too many other things had distracted him.

   "I wish there was something I could do to keep you here," she said,
looking glum.  "How 'bout a blow job?" she whispered.

   Bernadette slapped at her arm and Hilda Mae ducked away, a smile on her
face.  She looked back at Nathan, who was grinning.  "Thank you," she
whispered.

   "Any time, baby sister," he whispered back.

   Bernadette snorted and pushed Hilda Mae into their room.  She turned to
Nathan, jumped and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him soundly.  "I'll
give you a blow job any time you want one," she whispered.

   Nathan, who had caught her butt in his hands, squeezed.  "Maybe I'll do
for you what I did for Hildy," he whispered back.

   She kissed him again and Hilda Mae's arm snaked out of the room and
pulled at her shirt, knocking them both off balance.  There was a moan from
down the hall, through their parents' bedroom door.  Bernadette let go and
scrambled into the room, flashing another smile at Nathan.  The door closed
softly.

   Chapter 16

   The next morning, their father was already gone when they got up.  The
car was gone too.  Their mother was fixing breakfast.  She didn't turn
around and look at them when they came in, and her shoulders looked stiff.
They sat down, quietly, uncomfortable with their knowledge now that they
could see this strange woman they had known all their lives.

   "Your father had to go to a meeting up in Atlanta," she said, still not
turning to face them.

   "Oh," said Nathan.  "Mamma ..." he said.  She almost turned.  "I don't
know if I'm going to take that job or not, Mamma."

   "You're a grown man," she said.  "You'll do what you have to do."

   Marian let out a yelp as hot grease burned her hand and grabbed at a
towel.  She banged the pan onto another burner and then grabbed the handle
with the same towel and turned around to serve them, only to see the table
empty ...  unset.  She stood there, holding the pan as her face crumbled.

   "I behaved badly last night," she said, misery in her voice.  Her
shoulders began to shake.

   Bernadette got up and took the pan from her.  Hilda Mae got up and got
plates to put on the table.  Nathan went to his mother and took her in his
arms.  She melted against him, sobbing.

   "I'm so sorry you had to hear that last night," she sobbed.  "You must
think I'm a whore."

   Everyone stopped, and the only sound was their mother's broken-hearted
crying.  Then, as if they had been put on pause, and then activated again,
they went on.  Bernadette shoveled eggs and bacon onto plates, and Hilda
Mae got silverware, then glasses.  By the time she had them on the table,
Bernadette was there with a bottle of milk, and poured.  Nathan just held
his mother.

   "It's OK, Mamma," he said softly.  Her hair smelled like his sister's
hair.  He shoved that thought away.  "Daddy talked to us."

   His mother stiffened in his arms, and she looked up, uncomprehending. 
She couldn't believe that Harvey would have been able to explain the savage
needs she felt sometimes, or the way he met them.

   "He said we'd understand when we were older," said Nathan.  "It's OK,
Mamma, really.  Don't ever call yourself a whore, Mamma," he pleaded. 
"You're our Mamma and we love you."

   The girls joined the hug, crying also, though they couldn't explain why.
Everyone swayed, holding on to everyone else.  Finally Marian pushed them
back.  Bernadette handed her the towel and she wiped her eyes.  They sat
and ate quietly.  Finally, Marian was able to look up.

   "Thank you," she said softly, looking back down again immediately.

   The incident was never mentioned again, either in the house, or out of
it.

   ======================================

   They got to school late because they pedaled very slowly.  They pedaled
slowly because they didn't want to face Curtis Lee.  When they got there it
was quiet, the older ones bent over their desks, practicing writing
longhand, and Flossie working on letters with the younger ones.

   "We got a late start," said Nathan, in explanation.

   "That's fine.  You all write very well already anyway," said Flossie.

   Curtis Lee looked up, and met Nathan's eyes, but then he looked back
down again.  It just so happened that the desk next to Curtis Lee was
vacant.  Bernadette and Hilda Mae slipped into other seats, so Nathan had
to either sit next to the boy, or six seats away ...  an obvious snub. 
When he sat down, he looked over, to find Curtis Lee looking sideways at
him.

   "What are we s'posed to do?" asked Nathan, trying to be casual.

   Curtis Lee showed him the page he was copying from a book onto butcher
paper.  The paper had been used to wrap meat, and the pencil slipped
sometimes.  Nathan hadn't seen a real tablet since he came to this town. 
Other children were writing on the back of scraps of wallpaper, or pieces
of newspaper, simply writing on top of what was already there.  Somehow,
they could see what they did.  So could Flossie, who came to stand between
them.

   "You're penmanship is excellent," said Flossie, looking at Curtis Lee's
work.  She was used to all the children now, and didn't guard her tongue as
well as she had in the beginning.  "If you were white you could pass the
test to register to vote with penmanship that good." She realized Nathan
was sitting right beside her, but it was too late.  He didn't say anything
...  didn't react at all, in fact, and she was surprised.

   "You want me to copy too?" the boy asked her.

   "No, we're almost done.  As I said, your penmanship is impeccable."

   She went back to wrap up with the little ones.

   Nathan looked around and then said softly under his breath: "Thanks for
not telling."

   Curtis Lee looked uncomfortable.  "What white folks do is none of my
business," he said.

   It was as if a wall had been built instantly, and Nathan, for the first
time in his life, felt what it was like to be shut out by another person
his age.  He didn't like that feeling.  Even worse, he didn't know what to
do about it.

   "Well thanks anyway," he finally whispered.  "I mean that."

   "Curtis Lee?" called out Flossie.

   "The rope on that tire swing out in the yard has been broken for two
weeks now.  I got Mr.  Hawthorn to give me an old one.  Would you and
Nathan get that swing fixed so we can have a proper recess?" She went to a
cubby hole and retrieved a coil of rope, holding it out.

   Both boys stood up, looking uncertain.  Johnnie Sue stood up.  "I'll do
it Miss Flossie," she said animatedly.

   "Let the bigger boys do the climbing this time, Johnnie Sue," said
Flossie, smiling.

   Nathan reached for the rope, and they went outside.  It was an easy
climb, and Curtis Lee started up gracefully.  Nathan found the tire leaning
against the tree, and untied the old knot, having to work at it for a while
because it was tight.  When he got done he looked up to see Curtis Lee
staring down at him.

   The only thing he could think of to say came to his lips again.

   "Thanks.  I mean it."

   "I don't have a sister," said Curtis Lee.

   "It's complicated," said Nathan, helplessly.

   "Didn't look complicated," said Curtis Lee, softly.  He had been
dreading seeing them this morning too.  He had expected Nathan to threaten
him, not thank him.  Now he was curious.

   Nathan had expectations of Curtis Lee that hadn't been met too.  He had
expected Curtis Lee to blab it to everyone.  That's what he'd have done ...
back in Atlanta ...  he realized.  But he wasn't back in Atlanta.  This was
a whole new world he was in.

   "We got curious," he said tentatively.  "You know, because of health
class."

   "I'm not sure," said Curtis Lee carefully, "but I 'spect you wasn't
s'posed to get THAT curious."

   "I know," sighed Nathan, throwing the loose end of the rope up.  Curtis
Lee caught it and made a quick knot around the tree limb.  He left the
broken rope right where it was, since it wouldn't get in the way.  "I'm
tellin' you, Curtis Lee, that sex is powerful ...  stuff."

   "I could see that," said Curtis Lee.  "Can I ask ...  what was it like?"
He stayed in the tree, just in case Nathan took offense to asking what oral
sex with a white girl was like.

   Nathan didn't think about it that way.  Had it been his girlfriend
Curtis Lee had seen, he might have.  He would have demanded their privacy.
But being caught with his sisters was something completely different, and
he thought about that completely differently.

   "I don't know if I can explain it," he said.  "I mean, to say it was fun
isn't right, because ...  I don't know ...  I didn't DO it for fun.  I FEEL
something for them ...  something powerful ...  and it sort of makes me
want to do things I know I shouldn't."

   "You think you're in love with your sisters?" Curtis Lee said,
incredulous.

   "No, it's not that," insisted Nathan.  "I mean I DO love them, but it's
not like I want to marry them, or have sex with them or anything like
that." He looked confused.  "At least I don't THINK I do."

   "Iff'n I were you, I think I'd shy clear of that ...  if you haven't
already ..." Curtis Lee stopped talking.

   "No, we haven't done THAT," said Nathan, urgency in his voice, and a
clear desire for the other boy to understand the truth of his denial.

   "Well, like I said, what white folks do is none of my business," said
Curtis Lee, getting back on familiar ground.  He hadn't talked to a white
boy this frankly ...  ever.  "But I think I'd try not to do that."

   "Don't you think about having sex?" asked Nathan.

   "Sure ...  all the time," admitted Curtis Lee, feeling uncomfortable
again.

   "So what do you do?" asked Nathan, honestly curious.

   "Same thing you do," said Curtis Lee.  Then his face wrinkled up.  "I
mean ...  you know ...  like I said, I don't have a sister ...  I
masturbate."

   "That's all I used to do," said Nathan, feeling uncharacteristically
honest.  "But then they wanted to see me do it ...  and things kind of got
carried away."

   "I guess they did," agreed the other boy.

   "So ...  how come you DIDN'T tell?" asked Nathan, still curious.

   "Like I said ...  not my business."

   "You could have blackmailed us," said Nathan.

   "A nigger boy, blackmailing a white boy and two white girls?" asked
Curtis Lee, incredulous.  "I'm not looking to get hanged."

   "Oh," said Nathan, uncomfortable, for some reason with Curtis Lee's self
characterization and the image the rest of his comment provoked.  "You're
not a nigger, you know," he finally added, almost shyly.

   "Thank you," said Curtis Lee, climbing down.  "But there's folks in this
town that would disagree with you." He held out his hand and grabbed the
rope.  "And those people got nice new rope."

   "I know," said Nathan.

   "What do I do if they try to talk to me too?" asked Curtis Lee suddenly.

   "Who?" asked Nathan, thinking of the men with the nice new ropes.

   "Your sisters," said Curtis Lee.

   "I don't know," said Nathan.  "Talk to them, I guess."

   "You wouldn't get mad if I talked to them?" asked the other boy.

   "You talk to them all the time," said Nathan.

   "Not after what I saw," he said.

   "Yeah, I guess that's true."

   "They're all embarrassed now, and probably hate me." said Curtis Lee. 
"I don't want to get in trouble just for seeing them ...  you know?"

   "That isn't going to happen," said Nathan firmly.  "We weren't supposed
to be there, and we weren't supposed to be doing ...  what we were doing."
He looked at Curtis Lee.  "In fact, they haven't said one word about that."

   "I was sure they'd come for me," sighed Curtis Lee.  "Seeing a white
girl naked is a killing thing."

   "Not this time," said Nathan.  "You didn't tell, and we owe you for
that. Besides, if they complained about you seeing them, people would find
out I did too."

   "They might whip you," said Curtis Lee.  "They'd hang me."

   Just then the children started coming out of the school house, and the
boys had to lift up the tire and tie the new rope on.  Soon the bigger
children were pushing the smaller ones through the air.  Nathan was
standing off to one side, watching, when his sisters came up to him,
questions in their eyes.

   "Did he say anything?" asked Hilda Mae anxiously.

   "He said that if anyone finds out he saw you two naked, he'll probably
swing from a rope for it," said Nathan.

   Both girls looked horrified.

   "But that's not right!" said Bernadette, her voice hushed.

   "That's what he thinks."

   "But he didn't even DO anything!" said Hilda Mae.

   "I know that," said Nathan.  "But you know what Daddy would do if he
found out any colored man saw you naked."

   "But he didn't DO anything!" said Bernadette, repeating what her sister
had said.

   "He was colored, and he was there and he saw you naked.  That's all
Daddy would care about," said Nathan.  "Curtis Lee knows that too, and he's
scared."

   "I'll talk to him," said Bernadette.

   "That's one of the things he's worried about," said Nathan.

   Bernadette looked confused.  "Why would he be worried about me talking
to him?"

   "Because he saw you naked, and you know he saw you naked.  I guess most
white girls would have already screamed their heads off about that by now."

   "Well then what am I supposed to do?" she asked, frustrated.

   "I don't have the foggiest idea, Bernie," admitted her brother.

   =========================================

   Because she couldn't think of anything to do, Bernadette did what came
naturally when someone is trying to appear non-threatening.  Whenever she
caught Curtis Lee's eye, she smiled.  It was, at least to some extent, a
forced smile.  It was intentional, that is, rather than natural.  But
Curtis Lee couldn't tell that.  All he saw was a white girl, who he had
seen naked, smiling at him.  It was very confusing to him, because he
couldn't tell it that was a feral smile, as in "I have you now, my pretty,
and your little dog too!", or a real smile, as in "You saw me naked, and
that just doesn't make me all that unhappy." He didn't know what to think.

   ==========================================

   The next thing that happened that would have far-reaching consequences
was when Nathan went for a bike ride one night after supper.  He had gotten
into the habit of going out for three reasons.  First, he was bored.  He no
longer enjoyed watching TV, with his father making a running, and usually
negative commentary on what was showing.  Second, it got him away from his
sisters.  The three teens had all agreed to slow things down, after being
seen by Curtis Lee.  They were afraid to go back to the fire barn, and
didn't have any place else to go.  As such, Nathan hadn't had a chance yet
to taste Bernadette, but he was nervous about that.  He'd been having
dreams lately, about his sisters, and in one of them he'd stuck way more in
their pussies than just his tongue.  Being away from them made it a little
easier to deal with things.  He could duck into the woods and masturbate,
for instance, and there was no chance his sisters would catch him at it,
strip naked and cause him, as he saw it, to lose control.

   The third reason was that he just enjoyed moving around.  He saw things
through different eyes these days, and actually looked at things now .. 
buildings ...  people ...  even vehicles.  He'd polished up the old fire
engine while he'd been living in the fire barn, and it now sparkled. 
Seeing it spruced up let him look at other things in town and imagine what
they might look like spruced up too.  While he didn't know it, part of
liking to be out on his own had to do with his building desire to be free
of parental restraint.  Going out each night had begun to bring about a
situation where, his being gone didn't seem odd any more.  In the
beginning, he was questioned quite closely, by both his mother and father,
about where he was going and what he was doing.  Now, they barely looked
away from the TV when he left the house.

   On this night, he happened to be pedaling at an end of town he'd never
been in before.  Here the houses were smaller and scattered, with large
gardens between them, and huge old oak trees that leaned over the houses
like protecting hands.  At the very edge of town was one that was bigger,
but looked different.  The architecture was more along the lines of a barn
or outbuilding, rather than a house.  Clearly, though, someone lived there,
because there were flowers planted along both sides of the front door. 
There was no garden, and no car or truck.  There was also no dog, something
he was aware of on an unconscious level.  As he stood there looking at the
place, the door opened and a woman came out.  She was dressed in baggy
clothes that were way too big for her, and her head was wrapped in a towel
or rag of some kind.  She was a Negro, but her hands had large areas of
white on them, as if her skin were different colored there.  About the time
he realized it was paint on her hands, she looked over at him.

   "Nathan!" she said, plainly surprised.

   "Miss Flossie?" He gaped.

   "What on Earth are you doing here?" she asked.

   "I was just out for a ride.  What are YOU doing here?" he asked.

   "I live here!" she said, as if he should know that.

   He did, in fact, know all about what his father had done that summer,
evicting Flossie from the house she was living in.  He knew where that one
was, but had not known where she had moved to.  He moved closer.

   "What happened to your hands?" he asked.

   "Oh, I'm trying to spruce the place up a bit," she said.  "I'm not much
of a painter, as it turns out.  I seem to get as much on me as I do on the
wall.  It smells too!  I have to come out here every once in a while just
to keep from getting dizzy."

   She had given up the idea of wall paper, and was now trying to paint. 
The oil based liquid was messy, and she didn't have a gas can, or anything
else to put gasoline in to wash the paint off her hands once it was there.

   "I could help you."

   It was out of his mouth before he realized it.  Back in Atlanta, men had
been hired to come in and paint, and Nathan, only twelve at the time, had
been fascinated.  The men, rather than rebuffing his interest, gave him a
brush and a spot on one wall, and let him loose.  Annie had been horrified
when she found him, splattered with paint.  With the help of the men, and
the solvent they had with them, she got him cleaned up before his parents
saw him, and forbade him to get near the paint again.  He had been unhappy
about it then, and had always remembered his painting adventure with
fondness.

   "Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that," said Flossie,

   "It wouldn't be any trouble.  I've done some painting before," he said.
"Besides, I get bored with nothing to do.  That's why I'm out riding
around."

   "Your father wouldn't hear of it," said Flossie, trying to wipe the
paint off her hands with a rag.  It didn't work.

   "I sure won't tell him." Nathan grinned.

   "Well, it wouldn't be proper for me to take advantage of a student," she
said.  "If you insist on helping me, then I must insist on paying you."

   Nathan thought for a moment.  He wasn't really interested in the money.
By helping her he could, in some small way, mitigate what his father had
done to her.  It was a measure of how much he had changed that he didn't
think it was odd that he wanted to help a Negro.

   "OK, he said.  My price is high, though.  It'll cost you two dollars."

   "That's ridiculous," she said, aware that it was ridiculously low.

   "Well, that's too bad," he said, trying to sound gruff.  "That's my
price, and it's not for arguing."

   "Negotiable," said Flossie.  "It's not negotiable."

   "Exactly!" said Nathan, filing the word away for possible future use.

   "I'm not so sure about this," said Flossie, feeling like there was
danger in this somehow.

   "Oh, come on," he said.  "You could use the help, and I need something
to do."

   "Well, I suppose we could try it for a bit, and see how things turn
out," she said.  "Let me just get my lungs working again and I'll show you
what I'm trying to accomplish."

   Nathan surveyed the house more closely.  It was even more rude and
simple than the homes of all the farmers he'd met during the summer.  He
looked at it with dismay.  For a college educated woman to have to live in
something that looked like that just didn't set right with him.  He wasn't
aware of that on a conscious level, but it affected him emotionally.

   He looked at Flossie too.  She looked like a child in grown up clothes.

   "Where in the world did you get those clothes?" he asked, grinning.

   She looked down and blushed.

   "These are my pappa's clothes.  When he died, Mamma just left them where
they were.  I think it broke her heart that he'd left her and she didn't
have the strength to do anything much at all after that.  She just wasted
away herself after that, until she followed him."

   "I didn't know your folks were passed on," said Nathan, wiping the smile
off his face.  "Sorry."

   She waved a hand.  "It happens.  Death is just the last part of life. 
It happens to us all, sooner or later."

   "I can't imagine my mamma dying," he said, a sad look on his face.

   Flossie noticed he didn't mention his father, but didn't say anything
about it.

   "You sure you helping me won't cause trouble at home?" she asked,
leading him into the house.

   "They don't know," he said simply.  "I told them I was going for a ride.
I did too.  I rode over here." He grinned.

   "Well, if you paint like me, they'll know it the minute you get home,"
said Flossie, looking morosely at her paint spattered clothes and hands.

   "The men who taught me how to paint kept telling me that a good painter
gets the paint on the wall, and not on himself," said Nathan sagely.  He
didn't mention he hadn't been such a good painter back then.

   "Well, then, you'll just have to teach me how to be a good painter," she
laughed.  "If I keep this up, people are going to stare at me.  They'll be
afraid the black is wearing off or something," she joked.  "It would scare
them to death that I might be turning white."

   "Now wouldn't THAT be something," Nathan said, trying to joke back.

   She led him in and he looked around.  The place was in awful shape.  He
couldn't believe anybody actually lived in it.  Boards had been nailed up
like clapboard on the inside walls.  They had shrunk, somewhat, leaving
cracks between them.  Since the boards on the outside went vertically, the
theory must have been that together, they would block out the wind.  Even
the light breeze outside, though, found places where cracks lined up. 
There was an up and down almost whispering sound as the wind found its way
inside in little puffs.

   The interior was broken into three basic rooms, not counting the
bathroom in one corner of the living space.  The living space had the
kitchen on one side, with a massive wood stove along one wall.  A ragtag
collection of furniture spaced around a huge old scarred wooden table tried
to fill the other side.

   "There isn't any floor!" Nathan blurted, looking at the hard-packed dirt
under everything.

   "Nope," said Flossie, trying to sound cheerful.  "Pappa wanted to put
boards down, but never could afford to get what goes underneath them, and
the boards at the same time, so it just never got done.  We got used to it
I suppose."

   "You grew UP here?" he asked, incredulous.

   "That's my room right over there," she said, pointing at one of the two
other rooms.  "The other one was for Mamma and Pappa.  I just use it for
storage now, not that I have much to store." She looked around helplessly.
"I was hoping that paint might brighten the place up a bit."

   Nathan was devastated.  Nobody should have to live like this.  It was
still a barn, even though people had lived in it for years and years.

   "Wouldn't it just be easier to sell this and buy a proper house?" he
asked.

   "There has to be something to buy first," she said.  "And then you have
to be able to afford to buy it.  If you can't pay cash, then you have to
get a loan, and in this town ..." She didn't finish, embarrassed.

   "My father won't give you one." Nathan finished it for her.

   "Not just me," she said, trying to make it seem less personal.

   "Negroes," he said heavily.  "Negroes can't get a loan to buy a house."

   "If you farm, it's different," she said, still trying to mitigate the
disgust she saw on his face.  "Then there's collateral.  But if a Negro
owns a house, all that will ever buy it after that is another Negro, and
not many have the means to do that."

   "There's white people living where you used to live," said Nathan, his
voice almost accusatory.

   "Well, that young couple was living with her parents.  I 'spect they
were more interested in having their own place than worrying about what I
might have left behind.  Besides, they were my students in their last year
of school.  Since it had been aired it out for several months, and since
they knew me, I imagine that had something to do with it." She said it so
matter-of-factly that it just sounded like a normal, everyday situation.

   It was.  That was the problem.

   "I'm really sorry about this," said Nathan, meaning it from the bottom
of his heart.

   "It's not your fault," she said.  "It's just the way things are.  And
things are changing ...  slowly ...  but they're changing.  Just look at
you.  Last year you were calling me a nigger and a liar, and now you've
offered to help me paint!  If that's not change, I don't know what is!"

   As they began to paint, the conversation went on, sometimes about
serious things, like how people got to be as hateful as they were, and
sometimes about inconsequential things like why someone would think a paint
needed to be called eggshell white, when white was what color it was.  The
next time either of them checked their watch, two hours had passed.

   "You'd better get going!" gasped Flossie.  "Your parents will wonder
where you've gotten off to."

   She checked him over carefully before he left, taking a butcher knife
and scraping off small spatters of paint that had gotten on his hands. 
They had done more talking than painting, and hadn't gotten that much done,
but what WAS done was covered well, and very little paint had gotten on
either of them.

   He lucked out.  When he leaned his bike against the front wall, and
eased in through the door, only Bernadette was still in the living room. 
She was dressed in her nightgown, and had a book held limply in her lap,
sleeping.

   He woke her up and she stretched, telling him their parents had gone to
bed shortly after he'd left, deciding that what was on TV wasn't that
interesting.  Hilda Mae and Bernadette stayed up a little while, hoping he
would come back so they could play some more, but Hilda Mae had finally
gone to bed herself.  She looked at her watch.

   "Where have you been?" she whispered.

   "I'll tell you in the bedroom," he whispered back, looking at his
parents' door.

   They went to his bedroom, which was farther away from their parents'
room, and so they could talk softly without waking Hilda Mae up.

   "You smell funny," said Bernadette, sitting on the edge of his bed.

   "I was helping Miss Flossie paint her house," he whispered.

   "You're kidding!" Bernadette's eyes widened.

   "No, really!" he said.  "I was out riding around and saw her outside and
stopped to talk and just decided to stay and help."

   "You smell like paint, then," said Bernadette, stepping closer to him.
"You better do something about that or they'll smell it in the morning."
She stepped closer still, and started unbuttoning his shirt.  "I'll take
your clothes and put them outside."

   He stood and let her take his shirt off.  Just her fingers on drifting
across his chest made his prick stiffen.

   "I miss you," she said coyly, pushing the shirt off his chest.

   Just like that, a woman conquered a man.  It's been going on for
millions of years.

   "Are they asleep?" he asked, looking at the door.

   "We'll have to be quiet," she said, her eyes sparkling.

   Bernadette made little cooing sounds as she got to his pants, and
smoothed her hand over the bulge there.  He leaned down, one hand on her
shoulder, to help her get his pants off his feet.  Instead of taking his
clothes outside, though, she knelt in front of him and grasped him gently.
He watched in awe as she took him in her mouth, playing with his penis like
it was some kind of candy, kissing and sucking and licking the head.  He
kept watching as she began sucking, glancing up at him, her eyes telling
him she liked this.  He put his hands on her head and said her name softly,
to warn her, but she kept her mouth firmly on his prick as it bucked and
spurted, swallowing twice, then taking her mouth off of him and swallowing
again.  She milked his softening rod, sucking at the tip to get what little
was left, and licked her lips.

   "I'm horny," she said softly.

   She got on his bed, which squeaked softly, and pulled up her nightgown
to display her sex.  She spread her legs and pulled her heels up beside her
buttocks.

   "You have to be quiet," he warned her.

   She nodded vigorously, looking eager.

   He approached her carefully, getting to his knees on the floor and
crawling to the edge of the bed.  He couldn't quite reach her, and the only
way they could arrange it was for her to scoot closer to the edge of the
bed.  Then there was no place to put her heels, so she just lay her calves
on his shoulders, keeping her knees spread.  He leaned in.  She smelled
slightly different than Hilda Mae had.  His first taste told him she tasted
slightly different too, in a way he couldn't describe.  She was tart, like
Hilda Mae ...  tangy too ...  but still slightly different.  She gasped as
his tongue laved her vulva, licking from the bottom of her slit to the top.
He looked up in warning and she put a hand over her mouth.  The other hand
was gripping the covers.  He stiffened his tongue to split her sex, trying
to find her button with the tip as it got to the tip of her cunny.  He
found it, but couldn't get the lips to spread apart enough to get his lips
around it, like he had done to Hilda Mae.  Her legs were in the way of his
hands, and he fumbled with his fingers, trying to use them to spread her
open.  More by feel than anything else, he finally got what he wanted, and
sealed his lips around her clitty.

   Her back arched, and her legs went rigid.  The hand gripping the covers
came to his hair and pulled painfully.  His hearing dimmed as her thighs
closed on his head and her pussy pushed up at his face.  He flicked her bud
with the tip of his tongue, pushing it this way and that, and she shuddered
all over.  Her hand left his hair to slap on top of her other hand, both
hands pressing tightly to her mouth.  Her legs flopped back open and he
could hear her breath rasping through her nostrils.  Her bucking moved her
bud away from his lips and he pushed his face against her to get at it
again.  She started making whining noises through her nose, along with
explosive snorting sounds and he got worried enough to stop and lift his
head.  Her head came up, mouth still tightly covered with her hands, eyes
wide.

   "Get the pillow," he whispered.

   Bernadette's head arched as she looked for it, and an arm shot out to
grab it and pull it to her face.

   Within twenty seconds of getting her clit back in his mouth, Nathan knew
she was there.  He heard ragged, soft groaning sounds penetrating the
pillow, but they weren't so loud that he had to stop again.  He kept
licking and sucking as she flopped under him, until one hand pushed at his
head and he leaned back finally, her legs now limp on his shoulders.  One
slid off to fall with a soft thump against the edge of the bed.

   He stood up, his joints creaking and her other leg fell limply too, to
hang.  Her thrashing had uncovered one breast, which was heaving as she
drew breath through the pillow.  The nipple looked delicious, somehow, and
he bent over to try sucking on that gently too.

   The pillow flew off her face and she lifted her head.  She was gasping,
and he stopped sucking the nipple to look anxiously at the door.

   Nothing happened, and he stood silently, just looking at her as she
caught her breath.  Finally she held up a hand to him and he pulled her up.
She stood shakily and clasped him, reaching to kiss him, despite his wet
face.

   When she was done she licked her lips and her face scrunched up.

   "That's what I taste like?" she whispered, still panting gently.

   "I guess so," he said, trying to taste himself on his lips.  He couldn't
sense anything, though.  She overpowered anything of his that was still on
her lips.

   "That last thing you did," she said softly.  "I think that's what Mamma
was talking about.  That felt really wonderful."

   "I don't think we'd better do this here any more," he said, looking at
the door again.

   "Me neither," she agreed.  "But I'm sure glad we did it tonight."

   They waited a few more minutes, composing themselves.  Nathan got some
shorts on, just in case.  When they felt secure, she kissed him once more
and then slipped out and back to her own room.

   Nathan picked up his clothes and sniffed at them.  They did smell like
paint.  He dropped them out his window and went to bed.

   Chapter 17

   The next day was Saturday.  Harvey spent most of Saturday mornings with
the papers he hadn't had time to read during the week.  Sometimes he made
appointments on Saturdays, with people who didn't want to miss work during
the week to do banking business.  Marian did some baking on Saturdays, and
on this day insisted that the girls begin learning that craft.

   Nathan announced that Luthor was finally going to teach him how to fish.
His father snorted, but didn't say anything.  His mother made him wait long
enough so that she could make him some peanut butter sandwiches to take
with him.  She put those, an apple and a banana in an old flour sack and
handed them to him.

   "Remember, I don't clean fish," she reminded him, smiling.

   He picked up his 'painting clothes' from out back, and stuffed them into
the bag on top of the victuals, and headed off down the street in the
opposite direction of Flossie's house.  Once he turned the corner, he
simply pedaled around the block, approaching from the other direction.

   She answered the door with a smile.  She had already been painting, and
the smell wafted out the doorway.

   "I brought my painting clothes," he said.  "I need to change into them."

   She took him to her room, and left him there, closing the door.  As he
got undressed he looked around.  This room looked more like a home.  There
was a beautifully worked quilt on the mattress, which was supported by a
sturdy metal frame.  The walls had been covered over with wallpaper.  It
was cracked where the boards underneath joined, but the light floral
pattern still made the room seem much brighter than it was outside in the
living area.  There was no closet.  The single window was actually just a
fixed frame with four panes of glass in it, that had been fastened to the
wall, covering a hole.  It didn't open, but it let in some light.  Shelves
had been nailed to the walls, and her clothing was neatly arranged in
piles. There was a bra hanging from a nail, and as he looked at it he
thought of his sister's bras, which looked exactly like this one.  He
stared at the cups, knowing they had held breasts, and felt his penis
twitch.  For the first time he thought of Flossie as a woman first.  He
tried to imagine Flossie, standing in this room, wearing that white bra. 
She would obviously look different than his sisters when they were naked,
but he could only think of black skin, without any detail.

   He realized he was lollygagging, and got dressed quickly.  He had to
shove his penis up and to one side so that it didn't bulge so clearly.

   The images stayed in his mind when he went outside and began to paint.
He found himself darting looks at Flossie, seeing her as a woman in ways he
never had before.  He realized that, even though she was his teacher and
much older than he was, her small stature, and smooth lines made her look
more like she was nineteen, rather than ...

   "How old are you?" he asked, not thinking the question might be
inappropriate.

   "I beg your pardon?" she asked, looking over at him strangely.

   "Um ...  sorry ...  I was just thinking that you don't look much older
than Ruth Ann." he fumbled vocally.

   "Why thank you." She grinned.  "Let's just say I'm older than
twenty-five."

   "Wow," said Nathan.  "That's a quarter of a century."

   She gave him a mock glare.  "You don't have to put it THAT way!"

   "That's not what I mean," he said, flushing.  "You just don't look that
old, that's all."

   She laughed.  "I can see I'm going to have to give a class on tact.  If
you go off to college and say things like that to the women you meet,
you'll never get a date."

   That reminded him of the letter he'd gotten from the Kansas City Police
Department, and he told her about it.  She was elated.

   "Well, the grades won't be a problem if you keep on the way you are. 
You're a very good student when you put your mind to it.  I'm so happy for
you." She looked and saw the uncertainty on his face.  "It is good news ...
isn't it?"

   Then he told her about the reaction to the letter at home.

   "Well, I know that mothers never want their children to leave the nest,"
she said, "but it's a wonderful opportunity for you to find a life of your
own ...  and help others too.  You're almost a man now.  She can't expect
you to stay home forever."

   "This becoming a man thing isn't as easy as I thought it would be," he
said, morosely.

   "Being an adult isn't easy," she agreed.  "It's the challenge that makes
it interesting."

   They painted for a while, and she announced it was time for lunch.  That
reminded him of the sandwiches in his bag.  He admitted that he had told
his parents he was going fishing.

   "What are you going to do when you come home with no fish?" she asked.

   "I don't know.  I guess I'll just say I didn't catch anything."

   She laughed.  "They'll never believe that.  Fishing is very good in
these parts."

   "Oh, they'll believe me," he said confidently.  "I've never been fishing
in my life.  You could fill a book with what I don't know about fishing."

   "You're kidding," she said.  "You've never been fishing?"

   "Nope," he said.

   "Well, you can't lie to your parents," she said firmly.  "That's not
right.  You'll just have to go fishing, like you said."

   "I don't even have a pole," he said helplessly.

   "Then you'll have to use mine," she said.

   "You have a fishing pole?" he asked, incredulous.

   "I have two!" She grinned.  "And I ...  am going to teach you how to
fish!"

   ========================================

   There was a creek not far away.  It was, in fact, Foster's creek, the
same creek that Johnnie Sue, Jesse, and Luthor were, at the moment, skinny
dipping in.  The three had arranged to go fishing too, and were in the
process of getting the more serious business they planned out of the way
before they fished.

   This time there was much less horseplay, and much more sex play.  They
had gone to a good fishing spot, rather than the usual swimming spot,
because they didn't want anyone else to come along with the idea of
swimming and either catch them or interrupt their sexual mission.

   Johnnie Sue was, at the moment, the "meat" in a sandwich, with Luthor in
front of her, and Jesse behind her.  Both boys were rubbing their naked
bodies against her, and she had two hands full of hard pricks, jacking them
erratically.

   "Can I kiss you, Johnnie Sue?" asked Luthor.

   "Why do you want to do that?" asked the girl, who was a complicated
mixture of experience and innocence.

   "Daddy and Mamma do it all the time, and they seem to like it a lot," he
said.

   "That's true," she said, thinking of her own parents.

   Their first attempt was both tentative, and left them feeling vaguely
unsatisfied.  They tried it again, bumping noses, and learned to tilt their
heads.  Then Johnnie Sue turned around.

   "Now you," she said to Jesse.

   "I can't kiss you, Johnnie Sue," said the boy who was fondling one of
her titties.

   "I want to see if you feel different," she insisted.  "Your lips are
bigger."

   Then, instead of waiting, she pressed her lips to his.  It took him by
surprise and, rather than tensing up, like Luthor had, his whole face went
slack.  Johnnie Sue decided his lips DID feel different ...  softer ... 
with more give in them.  When she pulled back his eyes were wide open.

   Then she tried to explain the differences she had felt to Luthor, and
kissed him again, telling him how to loosen his lips to approximate what
Jesse's had felt like.  Then she kissed Jesse again.  This time he did
tighten up, and she scolded him, telling him to kiss her that other way
again.  He didn't know what she was talking about, so she had to tutor him
too.  It would have made for good comedy.

   But, within ten minutes, they had decided that this kissing part was a
good thing.  Now, as she stroked them in the water, she kissed one, and
then the other.

   She was leading them out of the water, a stiff rod firmly in each hand,
as Flossie was leading Nathan along the bank of the creek, toward the
fishing spot she remembered from her childhood.  The three youths they
stumbled upon, weren't making much noise at that point.

   Flossie did, however, hear something that sounded like a moan, almost of
pain, and stopped short, causing Nathan to run into her from behind.  His
hands went to her waist automatically to keep them both from falling. 
Flossie had been carrying both poles in her left hand.  With her right she
reached out and moved a thickly leafed elm branch down.  Both she and
Nathan, looking over her shoulder, could see into the clearing on the other
side.

   Johnnie Sue was on her knees, stroking Jesse first, while Luthor stood
by watching, his own hand squeezing his cock.

   "Don't you do it," said Johnnie Sue, glancing up at Luthor.  Jesse went
up on his tiptoes, about ready to get his orgasm.  "I want to make you
spurt."

   Flossie watched in horror as Johnnie Sue, stark naked and on her knees,
masturbated Jesse to what was obviously a powerful orgasm.  He leaned back
and moaned, his hand going to Johnnie Sue's head to keep his balance. 
Flossie was so flabbergasted that she was frozen in time, her eyes watching
as Johnnie Sue lovingly milked Jesse's prick, even though nothing was
coming out.  Jesse sat down on the grass, and Johnnie Sue turned to reach
for Luthor's penis.  He jutted his hips, obviously offering himself and she
started stroking him too.

   "I'm gonna squirt real fast this time, Johnnie Sue," he gasped.

   "Good," said the girl.  "I love making you squirt."

   =======================================

   For Nathan, seeing this happen evoked complex emotions in his mind. 
These were other students, in the same school as he was, and, while he knew
them well, he had never thought of them in this scenario.  That part was
strange and exciting.  Seeing a girl, doing to them what his sisters had
done to him, somehow validated his own behavior, even though these
classmates were not related by blood.  That was exciting too.  Having his
hands on a woman's waist, and watching this erotic scene was also exciting.
It was probably because of the combination of all that, that when Flossie
did begin to move, with the obvious intent of making their presence known,
and no doubt stopping what was going on, that Nathan's grip on her waist
tightened.  He leaned in close to her, the front of his body touching her
back, and whispered in her ear.

   "Wait!"

   Had he had the time to think things through, he wouldn't have said that,
of course.  If he had allowed his social indoctrination to steer his
actions, he would have been subservient, the student, in the presence of
the teacher, while she corrected inappropriate behavior being conducted by
other students.  But his reaction was emotional, rather than that of a
thinking mind.

   She froze.

   Had Flossie had the time to think things through, her reactions to the
situation probably would have been different as well.  She would have been
the teacher, correcting the inappropriate behavior.  But her own emotions
were in a turmoil too.  While she was quite aware that the situation needed
to be addressed, seeing Johnnie Sue and the boys, doing something they had
obviously done before and were very comfortable with, was a way of looking
at her students she had never dreamed of.  The ease and skill with which
Johnnie Sue had manipulated Jesse was erotic in a way that drove straight
to Flossie's loins.  Then there were the strong hands on her waist, which
she had felt unconsciously, at first, and the feel of a hard body pressed
into her back ...  a male body ...  touching her like she hadn't been
touched before.  While there was nothing sexual about Nathan's body
pressing against hers, there was a feeling of intimacy about it that made
that erotic too, somehow.  When his hot breath whispered in her ear, she
felt her nipples crinkle and tingle.  In short, part of her wanted to wait
...  and peek ...  voyeuristically participating in the behavior she was
observing.

   What complicated things in her own mind was that she paused.

   Had she ignored Nathan's command, she could have barged into the
clearing, stopping what happened, and their proper roles would have been
re-established.  But the hesitancy she displayed, robbed her of having the
high ground.  It also gave Luthor's prick time to spurt semen all over
Johnnie Sue's naked breasts.

   =======================================

   When Johnnie Sue had gotten Luthor's semen on her shoulder, the time
before, she had washed it off, feeling the slippery texture.  Later on she
had thought about that texture, and how smoothly it had spread along her
shoulder as she went under the water to wash it off.  Now that she was
going to produce another batch of the stuff, she wanted to experiment with
it, which is why she aimed his spurting penis at her chest when it went
off. Once Luthor was dry, she let go of him, and rubbed her hands across
her chest, feeling the slipper warm fluid spread.  It was only natural to
dip a hand to her honey pot, to rub there too.  She didn't think about the
fact that her hand was messy with his sperm, or that her fingers, as they
penetrated her sex to rub her button transferred that sperm into her pussy.
It just felt good.

   Soon she was on her back, legs splayed, both hands digging into her
pussy as she sought her own orgasm while two tired boys lay in the grass
and watched.

   =====================================

   "They're just playing," whispered Nathan in Flossie's ear.  She
shuddered as jolts like electricity shot down her spine.

   She had delayed.  It was too late to stop things now.  The boys didn't
seem intent on going any further, and Johnnie Sue seemed to be taking care
of her own needs.

   She turned, Nathan's hands sliding on her waist.  She had to look up at
him, and his face was only inches from hers.  She could smell the peanut
butter on his breath.

   "I should have stopped them," she whispered into his face.

   "They're just releasing tension," he whispered back.

   "They're having SEX!" she whispered, more loudly than she intended.  She
turned her head to see if the three youths had heard her, but the tree limb
was in the way again and she couldn't see them.  She turned her head back
and realized how close she was to Nathan.  She felt jittery inside.  She
pushed at his chest, and his hands slipped from her waist.  She felt much
calmer immediately.

   But Nathan reached for her hand, and pulled at her, leading her away
from the young people, to where they could talk about it without anyone
hearing them.  She pulled at his hand, but he held tightly, pulling her
carefully through the woods until they'd gone a hundred yards or more.

   "They weren't having sex," he said, his voice still soft.  "They were
just masturbating.  Didn't you say it's normal?"

   Flossie looked at the boy in front of her.  Her mind knew he was a boy,
but her emotions saw him as a man.  His sister had indicated she heard him
...  masturbating.  He had a penis.  It got hard, and he stroked it.  She
remembered Luthor's penis spurting.  It was the first time she had seen
either an erect phallus, or what that would produce.  Knowing those things
existed was different than actually seeing them.  Now her mind screamed at
her that the man in front of her had a penis very much like that, which
spurted as well.  She closed her eyes hard, but the mental image wouldn't
go away.  Finally she turned around, and opened her eyes, looking at the
forest.  That helped a little.

   Nathan just stood there, much more uncertain than he acted.  Flossie was
obviously agitated, and might do anything at all.  He had no idea why he
had stopped her from breaking up the party ...  why he had defended them.

   Finally she turned around, taking a deep breath.

   "You masturbate by yourself," she said evenly.  "When you do that
together it's part of having sex.  I should have stopped them."

   Her attitude brought about just enough change in the atmosphere that the
social structure was reestablished.  She was the teacher.  She was a figure
of authority.  Nathan looked down.

   "I guess so," he agreed.  "I guess you still can.  I'm sorry."

   Flossie looked at the fishing poles still gripped in her hand.

   "Come on.  We're going fishing," she said.

   This time, as they approached, she moved purposefully, almost stalking.
She didn't pause to peek, but just pushed aside the thick vegetation and
walked into the clearing.  She expected the children, as she was trying to
think of them, to still be naked, still touching each other ...  maybe even
copulating!

   She was thoroughly unprepared, therefore, when she found all three kids,
not only fully dressed, but actively fishing.  They had gotten dressed as
soon as more important things were taken care of, and had immediately gone
on to the other objective of their outing together.  Johnnie Sue had a fish
on the line and had just pulled it up to hang in front of her eyes when
Flossie pushed aside the bushes and walked onto the grass.

   "Miss FLOSSIE!" squealed Johnnie Sue, a big grin on her face.  "I just
caught one, and it's bigger than the one Luthor caught a minute ago!"

   Luthor held his fish up on a stringer.

   "I don't think so," he said ardently.

   "Got one!" yelped Jesse, jerking his cane pole upward.  He grabbed the
line and hauled in a fish as Nathan emerged into the clearing.  He had held
back a bit, peeking into the clearing.

   "NATHAN!" squealed Johnnie Sue again.  "What are YOU doing here?"

   "Um ...  Miss Flossie is going to teach me how to catch a fish," he
said, feeling foolish.  He had just seen two fish caught.  Apparently there
wasn't all that much to it.  The fish seemed to attach themselves to the
line, and all you did was lift them out of the water.

   "You two came out here?  Together?  Alone?" asked Johnnie Sue, her eyes
wide.  While she and her blood brothers did things like this together, she
still had the unconscious bias that adults - and she saw Nathan as
basically a white man - wouldn't mix in the same way.

   Flossie felt a tremor in her backbone.  She hadn't given even one
thought to what people might think if she and Nathan were out in the woods
together ...  alone.  Johnnie Sue's reaction, though, brought that flooding
into her mind.  Was she crazy?  Why in the world had she thought to bring a
white man out in to the woods like that?  She chastised herself for not
thinking about that.  Then her conscience chastised her for expecting
herself to act in a racist manner.  Then she got confused, not knowing what
to think.  History won out in the end, and she finally decided that, while
she should of at least thought about possible consequences, there was
nothing wrong with some simple fishing.

   "I notice," she said tensely, "that you are out here alone with two
boys, one of whom is just as black as I am.  What would people think?"

   Johnnie Sue went pale.  Luthor looked nervous, and Jesse froze.

   "That's different," gasped Johnnie Sue.  "I can explain!"

   "Well, then, let's hear the explanation," said Flossie, feeling more in
control.

   Johnnie Sue's face went blank for a second.  "We're fishing," she said
weakly.

   "And is that all you're doing?" asked Flossie.

   Nathan took a step and touched her elbow with his finger.  That's all it
was ...  just a touch ...  but it shot a shiver through Flossie and she
pulled away.

   "Yes ..." said Johnnie Sue, her face showing the lie as if she had
shouted "NO!" "What else would we be doing?" she added weakly.

   "What else indeed?" asked Flossie, her voice tight.

   Nathan, most probably because he knew how it felt to get caught ...  and
then get away with it ...  stepped forward again.

   "They have fish," he said softly.  "We came here to get some too ... 
didn't we?"

   Flossie turned her head to look at him.  He had an almost earnest look
on his face, a vaguely pleading look.  She stumbled, mentally, once again,
remembering what she had seen ...  the pure joy of youthful exuberance as
the girl pleasured the boys, and then herself.  And, here they were,
fishing, as if nothing had happened.  Nathan had said they were playing,
and her mind, seeing them now, still holding fish up ...  not coupling like
she had expected ...

   She took a breath, but held it, not knowing what to say.  Seeing them
like they were now ...  looking completely normal ...  made it seem like it
was all some frenzied dream.  Her breath gushed out.  She felt frustrated.

   "I suppose so," she finally said, her voice defeated.

   ========================================

   It took a while, but the tense atmosphere eventually evaporated, and
fish were caught.  Nathan was amazed at how often his bobber went under,
but when he pulled in the line nothing was on it.  His worm was gone, but
there was no fish.  The others, by comparison, gathered in fish like they
were just reaching into the water to pick them up.  All four natives tried
to teach him how to produce that special little jerk that set the hook just
so.  The only fish he caught was so firmly hooked that he couldn't get the
hook out.  No one had brought any pliers, and he got finned in the process
of trying to handle the slippery thing.  They laughed, but it wasn't cruel
laughter, and he didn't really mind.  In the end, Luthor used a knife to
cut the hook out, but Nathan just sat on the bank and watched after that.
The ease of movement that he saw in Flossie was mirrored in the others. 
They belonged here ...  fit in as though they were part of the forest.  It
was almost beautiful.

   ======================================

   On the way back home, neither Nathan nor Flossie spoke.  There was a
subtle tension between them.  Flossie never had "done anything" about what
they had seen.  She had submerged herself in the normalcy of fishing, and
while fishing, things had seemed normal.

   Now, though, as they walked back to her house, it all came back to her.
The sights ...  the feel of Nathan pressing against her back, the nervous
tension that she now recognized as her own unfulfilled needs.  She found
herself almost resenting Nathan for being her student ...  and white.  Then
she chastised herself for feeling that.  It wasn't his fault.  He was just
a nice young man, who had offered to help her.  It was HER fault for
feeling things she shouldn't feel.

   Back home, she showed him how to clean the fish, watching carefully as
his strong hands manipulated the knife.  His fish looked pitiful when he
was done, and she gave him three of hers, making him clean them as well. 
She looked at his face, intent on his job.  He was a handsome man.  There
was no doubt about that.  And good at heart.

   "Why did you stop me?" she asked suddenly.

   He looked up at her, that pleading look back on his face.

   "I don't know," he said.  "I guess because I know what I'd feel like if
you caught me." He looked confused.  "I mean ...  if I got caught ...  I'd
feel all embarrassed and everything ..." Now he looked agonized.  "I mean I
don't DO anything to get caught doing, or anything, but ..."

   He was beet red, and plainly mortified.  His face showed the screaming
lie just as plainly as it had screamed from Johnnie Sue's face.  The little
boy embarrassment in a big strong man's body was something delightfully
innocent somehow, and it warmed Flossie's loins.  After all, she rubbed
herself frantically sometimes too.  She held up a hand.

   "As you said, I suppose it's normal.  Maybe they WERE just playing."

   "I just didn't want them to be embarrassed, I guess." said Nathan
weakly, trying to recover.

   "That's sweet," she said.  "But that kind of play can lead to things
that are much more serious."

   "I know!" said Nathan, so explosively that he blushed again and turned
his face away.

   His vociferous affirmation shocked Flossie to her core.  It was almost
an admission that he had done something just as dangerous as what they had
seen.  She tried to think of who he might have dallied with in that way,
but there was no one.  He was years older than Johnnie Sue and her ... 
playmates.  Had he done something back in Atlanta?

   She never thought once of his sisters.

   Chapter 18

   One of his sisters, Bernadette, to be exact, was also away from the
house that Saturday.  She went to the library.  That was because she
already knew how to make biscuits, while Hilda Mae was in the process of
learning that time honored craft, along with they mysteries of making the
gravy that went with them sometimes.

   Miz Hopkins was just leaving when Bernadette stepped up on the porch. 
She explained she was going to town, to do her marketing, but that
Bernadette was welcome to go on in and dig through the books to her heart's
content.  It was while she was engaged in that activity that Curtis Lee
came in the back door, as was his habit, to spend some time of his own
digging through books.  He stepped into the room and Bernadette looked up.
Her eyes widened.  Both of them were thinking of the exact same moment in
time ...  a moment in the past, when she had been naked.

   "Curtis Lee!" she squeaked.

   "Miss Bernadette," said Curtis Lee softly.

   The honorific he put before her name was something almost habitual for
Curtis Lee.  He had been taught that by his mother, to be applied to
everyone, and not just his 'betters' as she called them.  It was just
manners, pure and simple.

   But to Bernadette, the honorific implied something more.  It was
manners, true, but it was much more.  It was something that suggested
approval ...  acceptance ...  even admiration.  Coming from this boy's
mouth, it suggested something more intimate than that.  He had held her
fate in his hands, and had, for whatever reason, chosen to handle her fate
gently.  She had always thought about that incident in terms of the danger
it represented for her and her siblings.  Now, she suddenly thought about
the fact that a male ...  an adult male ...  had seen her naked, pleading
on her knees, in a patently sexual situation.  Her eyes widened even more
as she felt the flutter in her stomach that she now recognized easily as
ardor.  And she was feeling it in the presence of, if not actually for a
Negro male!

   Had Bernadette known some rarely discussed history of the South a little
better, she would have known that the sex between plantation owners and
nubile slaves wasn't the only interracial sex that went on during those
tumultuous times.  White women, neglected by their husbands, who elected to
bestow their hard pricks on those slaves, instead of on their wives, often
found themselves sexually frustrated.  While it was much more dangerous for
them to dally with a big buck, the buck's silence was guaranteed, and many
a proud white woman found out that a stiff prick is a stiff prick,
regardless of what color it was.  Bernadette wasn't the first woman to be
attracted to a black man, regardless of what she thought.

   Had it happened a year or two earlier, her reaction might have been
entirely different.  Bernadette, however, had already dabbled in the taboo,
and looked forward to dabbling many more times.  She was quite aware of the
'wrongness' of that little flutter in her belly, but 'wrongness' didn't
have the terror that it had in the past.

   "Miz Hopkins went to do her marketing," said Bernadette, unsure of what
to say, and feeling shy.

   Curtis Lee stared at her.  She looked so ...  normal.  She had looked
that way the day after, in school.  He had been amazed that she didn't look
any different than she ever had.  He had always thought she was pretty, in
a safe, uninvolved kind of way.  But he had never been able to get the
image of her naked out of his brain.  Every time he saw her he remembered
that.  He remembered it now.

   "I should leave," said Curtis Lee.

   "No!" she said, unable to keep her mouth silent.

   "It's not proper," he said, feeling what he knew would soon make his
pants tent outward.

   "I don't care," she surprised herself by saying.  "I never got to thank
you."

   Both of them knew what she was referring to.

   "White people's business isn't my business," he said automatically.

   "I know.  That's what you told Nathan too.  He told us." She looked
away. "But you don't understand!  What you did for us ...  keeping silent
like that ...  you may as well have saved my life, Curtis Lee."

   Curtis Lee remained silent.  He was well practiced at that.

   "I owe you my life, Curtis Lee," said Bernadette emotionally.

   "It wasn't THAT bad," he said tentatively.  "They wouldn't have actually
killed you."

   "It would have been the same as if they did," she said, her eyes misty.
"They would have sent Nathan away, or maybe me, to a boarding school or
something like that.  My Mamma would have hated me forever.  Who KNOWS what
Daddy would have done!"

   "Can I ask you a question?" he asked suddenly.

   "Yes."

   "If you knew you could get in that kind of trouble ...  why would you
..." He didn't finish.

   Bernadette looked up at the ceiling, and then at him.  Her eyes were
shiny with tears.

   "I don't KNOW!" she said, almost sobbing.  "It just ...  happened.  We
had that class, and Hildy and I were curious.  There were things going on
at home too ...  things I can't talk about ...  but something just happened
and all of a sudden we were doing things, and I was so horny and it was so
much fun and if felt so good ..."

   He looked at her steadily.

   "Haven't you ever done anything like that?" she asked, hoping he would
have his own experiences that would help him understand how she had felt.

   "I don't have a sister," he said, as he had said it to Nathan.

   "No!  With some other girl!" she moaned.  "Haven't you felt horny with a
girl?"

   "Not like that," said Curtis Lee.  "I've never even seen a girl naked.
Except for ..." he didn't finish.

   Bernadette blushed.

   "If I'd have known I wouldn't have looked," he said.  He'd wished he
hadn't looked each time he had stroked his long, hard prick, thinking about
what he'd seen.  Hilda Mae, with her back arched and a cry of pure pleasure
coming from her mouth as her white breasts strained upwards ...  Nathan's
head between her thighs ...  Bernadette, so slim, with her own bulging
white breasts, watching avidly, her hand between her legs ...  Why his
memories centered on Bernadette, he didn't know, but her memory was seared
into his brain, as if it were branded there.

   "You're a real gentleman," said Bernadette suddenly, feeling that she
had just found the perfect categorization to put him into.  "You know that,
Curtis Lee?  You are a real gentleman." It was the highest compliment she
knew.

   "But I did see you," he moaned.  "And I can't forget that.  I'm no
gentleman, that's for sure!" His own frustration bubbled up.

   "You think about me?" her voice was high.

   "No!" he tried to deny it.

   "Yes you do!" she said, seeing it in his eyes.

   "I'm sorry," he moaned.  "I can't help it.  You were so ...."

   "Naked," she said.

   "No ...  yes ...  that's not what I mean!" he pleaded.  "I have to go!"

   "NO YOU DON'T!" she said forcefully.  He cringed, and she moderated her
voice.  "You don't have to go.  We're just talking.  We're just friends
talking."

   "But we can't BE friends," he cried mournfully.

   "Can't I choose my own friends?" she asked.

   "How can you want to be friends with me when I saw you like that?" he
groaned.

   "How can I ASK you to be my friend when you saw me with Nathan?" she
shot back.

   "I don't care about that!" he mumbled.  "That's your business."

   "Isn't it my business to decide who is my friend and who isn't?  You
could have ruined my life, Curtis Lee, and you didn't.  You were nice to me
when you saw me doing something most folks would horse whip me for.  You
were nice to all of us."

   "But I'm a nigger!" he said explosively.

   "No, you are not," said Bernadette, staring steadily at him.  "I like
you, and I've never liked a nigger in my whole life." She looked confused.
"You are just Curtis Lee, to me, she said.  You're colored, but I don't
care.  I like you."

   "I can't stop thinking about you that way," he moaned.

   "OK, then, so you'll have to think about me that way.  Since you
actually SAW me, I suppose I can live with that."

   "Really?" he said weakly.  "You'd do that for me?"

   She laughed.  The whole situation seemed completely ludicrous to her. 
Here she was, a white girl, telling a black boy that he could think about
her naked if he wanted to, and he was thanking her.  That after he saw her
doing something that would have ruined her whole life if he'd have spoken a
single word about it to anyone.

   "Yes," she giggled, as he stared at her like she'd gone mad.  She
thought about Nathan, and what he looked like when he saw her naked.

   Her laughing calmed.  She went to stand in front of him.  He leaned back
at the hips and she almost looked down.

   "I bet I know what happens to you when you think about me naked," she
whispered.  His eyes got huge and he started to step back.  She reached out
and grabbed his sleeve.  "I know what happens to Nathan when he thinks
about me that way.  It happens to you too, I bet."

   "Miss Bernadette ....  please," he begged.

   "You listen to me, Mister Curtis Lee ...  what's your last name,
anyhow?"

   "Waggoner," he gasped.  "Curtis Lee Waggoner the Third." His response
was both automatic and an attempt to recover his dignity.

   "You listen to me, Mister Curtis Lee Waggoner the Third," she said
calmly.  "You are a gentleman, regardless of what you may think, and as far
as I'm concerned, there is nothing a gentleman can think of ...  or do ...
when he thinks about me naked ...  that I can't live with."

   Then, on impulse, she got up on her tiptoes and planted a very quick,
very sterile kiss on Curtis Lee Waggoner the Third's fleshy lips.

   Curtis Lee Waggoner the Third fled, his dignity in tatters.  But, since
he had permission, he only fled about a quarter mile.  Then he stepped
behind a tree and unzipped his pants.  He beat his meat like it owed him
money, painted the tree bark with four strong streams of thick white spunk,
and then went home.  When he got there, he felt unaccountably light on his
feet.  Having been granted the freedom to dream had caused a fundamental
change in his whole outlook on life.

   =======================================

   Nathan came home, dressed in the same clothes he had been in when he
left that morning, and triumphantly presented his mother with supper.  She
promptly called her daughters into the kitchen to teach them how to bread
and fry fish.

   At supper, the answer to what Bernadette perceived as "her problem" came
to her.

   "This is so good," she said enthusiastically.  "I wish there were more.
Why did you only stop with four?" she asked her brother.

   "Actually," said Nathan, "I wasn't all that good at first." He
remembered to name Luthor.  "Luthor gave me a couple of his.  I'll do
better next time."

   "Hildy and I could go with you next time," said Bernadette, smacking her
lips.  "Then we could catch some too, and we'd have enough.  I could eat
two.  These are so good."

   "Girls don't fish!" snorted Harvey.

   "I'll have you know I went fishing with my daddy and my brother LOTS of
times when I was a little girl," said Marian archly.  She had, too, when
she was ten.  By the time she hit puberty, she gave all that up to learn to
tat, and knit, and needlepoint.  She had hated it so much she hadn't made
her daughters learn that little bit of feminine culture.  "Fish always
taste better when you catch them yourself." she added.

   Bernadette couldn't believe she had pulled it off.  By the time supper
was over, she and a less than enthusiastic Hilda Mae were invited to go
fishing with Nathan at an unspecified date in the future.

   After supper she explained it to Hilda Mae, reminding her that they
would be out in the woods ...  alone with Nathan.  Hilda Mae got much more
enthusiastic immediately.

   ======================================

   The hardest part for Bernadette was waiting.  She had been more or less
constantly horny since her meeting with Curtis Lee.  She had felt guilty,
at first, as she rubbed her cunny, as her brother's thick white penis was
suddenly substituted by another one that looked exactly like it, except
that it was black as coal.  They fought for dominance in her mind, changing
back and forth.  As she had an orgasm one time, the imaginary prick in her
mouth, spurting its lovely cream down her throat, was the black one.  It
had bothered her, initially.  Later, she gave up, thinking that dreaming
wasn't nearly the same thing as doing.  Dreaming was harmless ...  right?

   She talked to Nathan about going fishing at school.  He suggested that
it was too soon, and that if they caught too many fish, too often, the
taste for fish would wear out, and they would be told not to go.

   Seeing Curtis Lee in school didn't help any.  His shy smile made her
think about what he was thinking, which didn't help her emotional state at
all.  She had to rub every single night, even more often than Hilda Mae. 
They were so used to each other's lightly bouncing bed springs, though,
that neither one mentioned it.

   ====================================

   The holes in the plan - at least from Nathan's point of view - began to
become apparent the next Friday night, when Bernadette was finally able to
excitedly remind everyone that Saturday would be a good day for fishing. 
Nathan had planned on going, but was going to spend half the day at
Flossie's.  He didn't analyze the strange attraction she held for him.  He
just knew he liked being around her in a more relaxed, less formal kind of
way than it was in school.

   But now his sisters would be with him.

   Bernadette knew about the painting, at least that initial time.  As far
as he knew, Hilda Mae didn't.  He had no idea how they would react if he
took them to Flossie's, and asked them to wait while he helped paint.  It
never occurred to him to just skip Flossie's and simply go fishing with his
sisters.

   Another problem was poles.  He could probably borrow Flossie's, but he
had no other source.  He had seen fishing poles in the General Store, but
didn't want to spend his hard-earned cash on that.  If he WAS going to
Kansas City after school was out, he'd like to take a little cash with him.

   A third problem was that he had been watching the sway of Flossie's
jeans-clad hips so closely, as he followed her through the woods, instead
of watching where they were going, that he wasn't at all sure he could find
the fishing hole again.  He was pretty sure Flossie would take them there,
if he asked her to, but then ...  Flossie would be there.  He was perfectly
aware of exactly why Bernadette wanted to go fishing ...  with her brother.

   For the first problem, he suggested to his sisters that they bring a
book, since, he said, fishing involved a lot of sitting and waiting.  That
hadn't been true the last time, but it sounded reasonable to him.  When, on
the way out, his mother asked him what he would do for poles, he said "I
borrowed one from Luthor last time."

   "Well, Luthor won't have two more, no doubt," she said.  She got her
pocketbook and pulled out a ten dollar bill.  "Stop by the store and get
three," she said, handing him the money.  "If there's any left, get
yourselves a treat." The teens left grinning.

   "Ten dollars would buy a lot of fish," commented Harvey, dryly.

   "Our children will be gone for hours, you old goat," she said, standing
regally and cupping her breasts wantonly.  "Would you rather we had to
spend it on a hotel room?" There had been a time or two in the past when
Marian needed some of her 'special' loving, and they had had to manufacture
a reason to be gone for a few hours.  Those few hours had been spent in the
anonymity of a hotel room, where their children couldn't hear them.

   "I reckon not, at that," said Harvey, grinning as he stood up.

   "Why do you think I sent them off in the first place?" said his wife,
unbuttoning her dress right in the kitchen.  "If we like fish enough, we
can get a few hours every week."

   "I purely love fish," said Harvey, beginning to pant.  Seeing her like
this, in the kitchen of all places, had his heart racing.

   ========================================

   "You're JOSHING ME!" squealed Hilda Mae when she found out where they
were going, and why.  "But, last week, you came back with FISH!"

   "I said Luthor gave me some," said Nathan, relieved that she wasn't
shouting at him in anger.  "Actually, it was Miss Flossie.  She took me
fishing so I'd have some."

   "Miss Flossie took you out into the woods by YOURSELVES?" said Hilda
Mae, squealing again.

   "Er ...  uh ...  Johnnie Sue and Luthor and Jesse were there fishing
too," he said.

   "Oh," said Hilda Mae, relaxing.  "Why didn't you say so?"

   "I did!  Just now," he said, sounding hurt.  "Anyway, what if she DID
take me fishing.  It's just fishing."

   "I know that," snapped Hilda Mae.  "Is that all WE'RE going to do today?
Just FISH?"

   "What are you yelling at me for?" he whined.

   "I'm not sure I want to share you with some other woman," said Hilda
Mae.

   "HILDA MAE!" It was Bernadette that squealed this time.

   "Well?" Hilda Mae tossed her head.  "He's horny, and she's a woman. 
Look what happened to us!"

   This was striking perilously close to feelings that neither Nathan OR
Bernadette wanted to disclose.  They were only lucky that Hilda Mae didn't
notice that neither of them raised the racial objection.

   "She's a real woman," scoffed Nathan nervously.  "She'd never do that to
a boy like me.  And she's our teacher.  She just taught me to fish, that's
all."

   Hilda Mae stopped in her tracks.  "What if she wants to go with us
today? I'm so horny I could suck a tree branch."

   "HILDA MAE WILSON, you SLUT!" screeched Bernadette.

   Hilda Mae wasn't fazed.  "If I know YOU, I'll NEVER get to suck
Nathan's. You always hog it.  And if Miss Flossie goes with us, YOU won't
get to suck it either!  How's about THEM apples?"

   Nathan was looking around anxiously.  No one was around, but Hildy was
getting awfully loud.  "You'll get your chance, I promise!" he said
urgently.

   "I'd better!" she snorted.

   ====================================

   They stopped at the store first.  In addition to poles, line and
bobbers, they got six Hershey bars to go in the picnic basket, along with
the sandwiches and other things their mother had packed for them.  She had
suggested that they should bring back a big batch of fish, and that it
might cause them to run into supper time, so she had packed extra food,
"Just in case," she said.  They were about to walk out when Nathan
remembered that he'd had to carry his fish home in the sack, because
Flossie kept her stringer.  They were out of money, but the storekeeper
gave them a length of cord and told Nathan to tie it to a stick that could
be inserted through the gills of the fish they caught.  He gave them
another length of cord to tie the poles to the luggage carrier on the back
of Nathan's bike.

   Then Nathan led them to Flossie's house.  He forgot to warn them about
the appearance of the place.  When they saw it they didn't believe, at
first, that he was telling the truth.

   Flossie was pleasantly surprised to see the girls.  A little of the
pleasantness was because she, too, had been having turbid dreams, more than
one which involved Nathan, and left her feeling troubled and ...  horny. 
She had never had to worry about being alone with a man before, because the
things that were on her mind now ...  weren't, back then.  At least not as
vividly as she now pictured them.  So, having the girls there made her feel
a little better.  It would also allay any suspicions of anyone who saw them
arrive.  People might take notice of a tall white boy visiting a small
black woman's house ...  repeatedly ...  but a group of kids ...  at the
teacher's house ...  that was different.

   Still, something inside her was sad too.  She liked being with this boy,
and talking about anything and everything, or nothing at all.  And, the
thing they had seen the younger kids doing ...  that shared intimacy of
knowing something very secret ...  had brought them closer together than
either of them knew at that point.  She felt some of that on an unconscious
level.

   The girls weren't interested in painting, though, and sat reading
through Flossie's private collection of books.  Soon they were ignoring the
painters.

   They painted for two hours, talking softly about this and that,
mechanically dipping brushes into a can of paint and swabbing it carefully
on the wall, side by side.  In the process, Nathan told her that his
sister's knew about who had taken him fishing the week before.  When she
looked at him intently, with one raised eyebrow, he shook his head.  She
felt a strange comfort that ...  the other ...  was still their secret.

   ====================================

   The third problem, that of Flossie having to be with them, turned out
not to be a problem at all.  She said she had other things to do this day,
and gave them simple instructions on how to find the spot on Foster's creek
where they had been before.  It was only a quarter mile downstream from a
bridge that crossed the creek, and they could follow the road outside her
house the mile that it was to the bridge.

   "I only took you through the woods because that's a little shorter,"
said Flossie.  "There may be some others there fishing too," she reminded
Nathan.  "You might want to call out when you get near.  If there's anybody
there, they can help guide you on in."

   Nathan just grinned at her.

   Chapter 19

   As it turned out, there was no one there.  They left their bikes by the
bridge and walked downstream.  Nathan recognized the place, even though he
came into it from another direction than last time.  That's because the
stick Jesse had had his stringer tied to was still stuck in the mud at the
edge of the water.

   Like their classmates, the week before, fishing was not the primary
thing on the minds of the teens.  Hilda Mae dug into the picnic basket and
started taking things out.  She pulled out a blanket from the bottom and
whipped it out to make a bed on the grass.  Then she got naked.

   "Hurry up, Nathan," she said breathily as she dropped her bra on one
corner of the blanket and rubbed her tender breasts.  "It's been so long."

   Within minutes all three were naked, and Hilda Mae instructed Nathan to
lie down on the blanket.  She got down on her hands and knees and took his
stiff prick in her hand immediately.  Sitting on her knees, she pulled her
hair into a pony tail, securing it with the band she took from her wrist.
Then, hovering over his penis, she lifted it with one hand and examined it.
Though she had never had it in her mouth before, she had thought about it
so much that there was no hesitation.  Her mouth almost watered as she
leaned down and began to suck him.

   Bernadette sat beside them, fingering her pussy.  She had been trying to
put her finger inside herself ever since seeing Nathan slide his into her
sister.  She had felt carefully for her maidenhead, finding it easily.  She
could tell there was a tiny hole in it, that she could get just the tip of
her finger into, but every time she pushed, there was pain.  Over the last
week or two, she had stretched that tiny hole enough to get her finger
through it up to the first knuckle.  She did that now, watching Hilda Mae's
mouth slide up and down Nathan's thick penis.  Looking at it, she was quite
sure she'd never be able to take a real penis in her pussy.  Just her
finger caused that aching pain that was so tantalizing.

   Hilda Mae lifted her head off.

   "I want to rub and suck at the same time, but I can't," she sighed.

   Nathan had been lying there, feeling the sun on his chest, and Hildy's
mouth on his peter.  She had a completely different technique when she
sucked, and his urge to cum wasn't so strong as it was when Bernadette's
voracious mouth literally pulled the semen from his balls.

   "I could rub for you," he offered.

   She scooted around so her hips were closer to his head, and he could
reach her more easily.  He slid his hand between her legs and she dipped
her head back down to suck some more.  It was awkward for Nathan, and he
suddenly realized that, if she were straddling his head, he could reach her
more easily.  He pulled at her leg, lifting it, and tried to get it over
his head.  It wouldn't stretch that far and he ended up lifting her whole
lower torso to position her the way he wanted to.  In the process, the rest
of her weight went onto her arms, which were bent.  She couldn't stop her
arms from bending further as the weight came on them, and, too quickly for
her to react, her weight drove Nathan's prick clear to her throat.

   For Hilda Mae, the situation was both unexpected and instructive.  She
suddenly felt his curly brown pubic hair tickling her nose, and at the same
time she felt a choking sensation.  She tensed up, trying automatically to
push herself off the thing that was now plugging her throat, but her arms
weren't quite strong enough.  Her unconscious mind instructed her throat
muscles to relax and loosen, and she took a deep breath through her nose.
About then he dropped her knees to the blanket, one on each side of his
head, and she again had enough strength in her arms to push herself up off
the thick thing in her throat.  By this time, though, she noticed that she
wasn't actually choking, and that the big knob that was deep in her throat
really felt very nice as it rubbed the soft skin around it.  She did push
up a little, but then let her head fall again.  She opened her eyes to see
his balls right at the tip of her nose.  There was a little spot, there in
her throat, that just felt wonderful when it was rubbed.  She pulled up too
far and her gagging reflex kicked in, so that she had to pull up farther.
She took her mouth off of his penis, and dripped saliva all over him as she
coughed.

   "You OK?" came his voice.

   "Yes," she said.  She looked at his penis, which seemed huge to her, and
couldn't believe it had been so deep in her throat.  She decided to try
doing that again, this time on purpose, and dropped her head.

   She learned quickly that she had to get the tip of his prick past that
place that made her gag, and then it felt wonderful.

   =======================================

   Nathan loved having his sisters suck on his penis.  He loved shooting
his spunk in Bernadette's mouth.  When she first started, Hildy's mouth
felt good, but in a different way, and he had just been enjoying the
feeling of her lips sliding along his shaft.  Then, when he had lifted her,
quite suddenly his entire penis was clamped in warm flesh.  It felt
completely different than it had before.  Then, when he had settled her
knees on either side of his head, and he could look up at her thin, white
pussy lips, she took her mouth off of him and coughed.  She had said she
was OK, and, as he prepared to rub the lips in front of his face, that
wonderful clamping feeling had come back.  Never had it been around his
entire penis at once.  He had felt it around the tip, but never the whole
thing at once.  It felt fabulous and his balls lurched.  He smelled
something tart, and the pussy lips in front of him suddenly gleamed as the
split between them oozed liquid.  Lifting his head to lick at that liquid
was an automatic response.  As he did, her knees scooted sideways, and she
dropped her pussy to his mouth.  His face was flooded with tangy liquid and
he slurped at it as her body seemed to vibrate.

   =======================================

   Bernadette had closed her eyes as she gently poked her finger through
the aching hole in her hymen.  Her mind was playing tricks on her again,
showing her a thick, white penis, that she knew was Nathan's, and a thick
black one that she knew was Curtis Lee's.  In her mind, her finger was one
or the other of those impossibly thick organs.  She opened her eyes to see
her sister's nose pressed into Nathan's big, pink balls, and goggled as she
realized his penis was all the way into Hildy's mouth.  It was impossible!
Bernadette knew now long that thing was, and if her nose was where it was,
that meant the tip of his prick had to be clear into Hildy's throat! 
Bernadette lurched, rolling, to reach her sister and help her, but as she
did so, she saw Hildy pull up two inches, and then, intentionally push her
face BACK down!  She looked to see Nathan's face buried between Hildy's
thighs, and heard wet, slurping sounds.  Then she felt the pain, and looked
to see that, when she had rolled, her finger had penetrated her own pussy
completely.  She jerked it out, looking in horror to see blood staining her
finger.

   Hildy made a choking sound, and pulled her face away from Nathan's
prick. Bernadette watched, her eyes wide as that prick spurted into Hildy's
open mouth.  Then she coughed, and milky white spittle splattered all over
Nathan's penis and balls.  Then she understood that he had shot off, with
that penis deep inside Hildy's throat.  It spurted again, and Hildy lifted
her face to cough again.  Sperm was dripping off her nose, and drooling
from her open mouth.  She rolled sideways to land on her buttocks, coughing
and wiping her face with her hands as Nathan lifted his head, a look of
surprise on his shiny face.

   ======================================

   Hilda Mae had found that, if she rubbed that special spot in her throat
with the tip of Nathan's prick, it would almost bring her to orgasm.  Then,
when he had started licking her, the orgasm had suddenly been there, making
her weak as it wracked her body.  She had been having no trouble breathing
through her nose, but suddenly there was a wet sensation that interfered
with that and she realized he was spurting.  She pulled off of him as the
coughing overtook her body and wracked it in a different manner.  She
didn't register the taste until she was sitting, and the coughing was
waning.  She tasted it about the same time as she felt it on her face, but
couldn't concentrate on whether she liked it or not.  She didn't like the
feel of his spunk on her face, and in her eyes, like she did when he
spurted on her chest.  She remembered the creek, a few yards away, and got
up and walked toward it gingerly.  Her feet were soft, and she was afraid
she'd step on something sharp.  Then she got to the bank, and felt mud
between her toes.  She more or less fell in the water and held her breath
as she ducked her head under water and rubbed it clean.  When she came up
she felt better.  Then she concentrated on the taste in her mouth.

   ========================================

   Bernadette watched Hilda Mae stagger to the creek, get in, and wash her
face.  She looked over at Nathan, who was looking around like he was
confused.  His penis waved drunkenly in the sun as he panted.  It was still
hard, and covered now with dripping spunk.  Bernadette decided not to let
that yummy stuff go to waste, and crawled to Nathan to assume the same
position Hildy had been in.  She settled her pussy down on Nathan's mouth,
and began to lick and suck his penis clean.

   ====================================

   Nathan didn't know whether Hildy was mad at him or not.  She had more or
less jumped off of him, coughing, and then run into the creek.  He knew he
had cum in her mouth, and she had said she wanted that, but she wasn't
acting like she was really happy, like Bernadette did when she swallowed
his spunk.  Then Bernie was there, and her pussy was pushing into his face,
and his prick was nice and warm again as she sucked on it like she usually
did.

   She tasted different this time.  There was a coppery taste around her
slippery pussy lips.  His mind compared that to a time when he'd cut his
finger, and stuck it in his mouth to make it feel better.  His mind
recognized the taste of blood, mixed with her usual delicious taste, and he
pushed at her hips to look at her pussy.  He didn't see any blood.  She was
dripping wet too, just like Hildy had been there at the end, producing so
much tasty nectar that he almost couldn't slurp it all up.  Bernie started
rubbing her pussy on his face and chin wildly, and he just stuck out his
tongue, so she could rub against that too.  He wanted to cum for her,
because he knew she loved his taste, but he had just spurted only a few
minutes before, and while what she was doing felt wonderful, he knew he
couldn't spurt.

   Her wild gyrations slowed as her orgasm waned, and finally she crawled
off of him.  He felt tired, but not spent, and arched his head to see where
Hildy was.  She was sitting in the creek, splashing water at nothing.  He
felt the sun and sweat on his body, and decided the creek would feel good.
With a groan, he rolled over, levered himself up, and went to join Hilda
Mae.

   ========================================

   Hilda Mae was trying to explain to Nathan, what had happened, when
Bernadette joined them, stepping carefully into the creek and making a face
at the feel of oozing mud between her toes.  They had just moved to a part
of the creek where they could squat in the water so that it came up to
their necks, and were comparing notes about this latest exploration, when
Luthor Cripps pushed through some vegetation and walked into the grassy
open area next to the blanket ...  and their clothes.

   "Luthor!" yelped Bernadette.  She was the only one facing the bank, and
was the first to see him.

   "Hey, guys!" said Luthor, setting down his fishing pole and gear.

   "What are you doing here?" asked Bernadette as her brother and sister
turned to look at the bank.

   Luthor looked around, and then down at his fishing pole, and then at
their brand new ones, not yet rigged for fishing, and then back at them.

   "Fishing?" he asked, as if he were confused.

   There was the noise of yelling and Jesse burst into the clearing, chased
by Johnnie Sue, whose shirt was unbuttoned and flapping in the wind,
revealing her young white breasts, as she raced after him.

   "I'M GONNA GET YOU!" she screamed as she burst onto the scene.  Then she
skidded to a stop, her eyes wide and her mouth open, as she saw the Wilson
children in the creek.

   The names of the new arrivals were called out automatically, in the same
nervous shouts, by various different people.  Johnnie Sue stood there, her
young breasts bare, until she jerked and pulled at her shirt to cover them.
There was a very tense moment of silence as everyone stared at each other.

   Johnnie Sue was an intelligent girl, even if she was only fourteen now.
Her intelligent eyes took in the blanket, the piles of clothes, the new
fishing poles, and the obviously naked teens in the water.  Her initial
horror at having been caught, half naked, chasing Jesse through the woods,
gave way to a flash of inspiration.

   "You guys got started already!" she said, putting her hands on her hips.
She shivered as her shirt gaped, but kept her hands on her hips by pure
force of will.  "How's the water?"

   Jesse, wasn't quite as quick on his feet as Johnnie Sue.  He hadn't been
aware that she had unbuttoned her shirt after he had sneaked a quick feel
of her boobies and she started chasing him.  He had been caught up in the
pure joy of knowing she wasn't really mad, but running from her as if she
were, knowing that, sooner or later, he'd get to see them as well as feel
them.  He was new to all this sex stuff, though, and had been fishing at
this spot in the creek all his life.  In HIS mind, this wasn't where you
went swimming.  You did that up the creek a ways.  This was a fishing hole.

   "HEY!" he blurted.  "They're scaring the fish away!"

   Johnnie Sue darted him a frowning look and saw his eyes widen as he
looked at her and saw her open shirt.

   "They'll come back," she said shortly.  "And since they started without
us ...  let's go swimming now, and fish later."

   Again, by pure force of will, Johnnie Sue shrugged off her shirt and
then bent to get the rest of the way naked.  Then, with no little dignity,
she walked to the creek and entered the water.  She looked over her
shoulder at the two wide-eyed boys on the bank.

   "What are you waiting for?  The water's GREAT!" With that she splashed
Nathan Wilson with two great armfuls of water, dousing his sisters as well.

   The Wilson children had never been skinny-dipping in their lives.  They
had heard of it, of course, but never seen or done it.  But young people
have an uncanny way of adapting to strange situations, especially when
there is someone around like Johnnie Sue, whose matter-of-fact behavior
announced so plainly that what was happening was completely normal.  They
suddenly found themselves in a whirlwind of water war that is common
anywhere young people swim.  They were so caught up in splashing and
dodging that they never even saw Luthor and Jesse skin out of their clothes
and join the fray.  Within minutes young bodies were pushing, shoving,
laughing and screaming as they strove to be the person dunking someone,
rather than the person being dunked.

   Five minutes of frantic, screaming fun had been engaged in before Hilda
Mae noticed that someone else was standing on the bank watching them.  It
was Moses Finshaw.  He looked like he was staring at little green men from
Mars.

   "MOSES!" shouted Hilda Mae gaily, copying Johnnie Sue's exuberance. 
"Come on in ...  the water's fine!"

   Her cry alerted others that Moses was there, and the fighting subsided.
Johnnie Sue and Bernadette were standing, hip deep in the water at the
moment.  Bernadette gulped and sank down to cover her breasts.

   Moses gulped too.  "You sure?" he asked.

   "We already scared the fish away," called out Johnnie Sue.  "You may as
well go swimming."

   Again, her vocal assurance that everything was completely normal brought
about the desired result.  This time, though, everyone watched as Moses
slowly took his clothes off, darting looks at him.

   "You're watching me," he complained.

   Johnnie Sue was still standing.  On impulse she reached for Bernadette's
arm and pulled her up out of the water.  Bernadette flailed and tried to
keep covered, but not until Johnnie Sue had yelled out "We're all
skinny-dipping, you dork!"

   Moses' problem wasn't so much getting naked, at least not in front of
Johnnie Sue or his other friends.  He'd done that before.  His problem was
that, while Johnnie Sue wouldn't yell at him for having a boner, he wasn't
sure at all it would be accepted by those Wilson kids.

   Once again, Johnnie Sue's quick grasp of the situation leapt to the
forefront.

   "What's the matter, Moses?  You got a hardon?"

   There were titters in the water as he shot her a venomous look.

   "We studied that in school, remember?" Johnnie Sue teased.  "Just go
over in the bushes and take care of it and come swimming with the rest of
us!"

   Her bold suggestion caused gasps, and everyone looked at her.

   "What are YOU all looking at?  Didn't Miss Flossie say it was normal?"

   Nathan, who hadn't had time to think about all this, having been caught
up in the excitement of naked water play, suddenly remembered seeing
Johnnie Sue jerking off Jesse and Luthor.  His own prick, recovered now
from his earlier orgasm, blossomed to life under the water, iron hard.  He
looked at Luthor, and then at Jesse.

   "Stand up, Luthor." he said suddenly.

   "Huh?" Luthor responded.

   "Stand up, out of the water!" ordered Nathan.

   A guarded look came over Luthor's face.

   "How come?" he hedged.

   "You too, Jesse," said Nathan.  "Stand up."

   "No SIR!" yelped Jesse, his eyes rolling.

   Nathan went to Jesse first, and grasped one arm in an iron grip.  He
pulled the struggling boy to Luthor and grabbed Luthor with his other hand
before he could react and flee.

   "We're all going to stand up together," he told them.

   "But ..." objected Luthor.  "My ..."

   "We're all going to stand up together!" insisted Nathan.

   He pulled them toward shallower water, and stood, his stiff prick
breaking the water and dripping.  Each of the other boys had sagged,
resisting, and they both stared at the dripping, hard penis that was only
inches from their eyes.

   "Stand UP!" growled Nathan, pulling.

   Slowly, resisting all the way, he pulled until both of their penises
were exposed.  Both were just as hard and straight as his was.

   There were gasps from the girls, for a variety of reasons.  Johnnie Sue
was goggling at the size of Nathan's penis.  Bernadette and Hilda Mae were
goggling at two new and different looking penises.

   Nathan held the arms of both boys as they slowly gave up and stood on
their own.  He looked at Moses, who was goggling at them all.

   "You aren't alone, Moses," he said calmly.  "Like Johnnie Sue said ...
it's normal.  Don't worry about it."

   ===================================

   The atmosphere was different when Moses finally pushed his pants down
and walked to the water, his boner wobbling as he moved.  He didn't cover
it, but only because the other three boys were still standing there,
supporting his ...  infirmity ...  with their own.  Hilda Mae drifted over
to float beside Johnnie Sue, who was still standing, her breasts exposed,
and her sister, who was still hiding hers under the water.  There was a
feeling of security, with the three of them together, and they all stared
unabashedly at various penises, their eyes darting around.

   When Moses got into the water, he sunk down, and Nathan let go of the
other two.  Jesse rubbed his arm where it had been squeezed, and sank back
down too.  Nathan looked at Luthor, who still looked uncomfortable, and
grinned, suddenly dropping so that Luthor was the only boy exposed.  With a
yelp, Luthor dropped like a stone a couple of seconds later, blushing.

   Nobody spoke, at first, eyes straying from one face to the other, but
not holding someone else's.  Johnnie Sue finally sank down into the water
up to her neck.

   "This is kind of weird," Moses said finally, breaking the silence.

   "We've skinny dipped together all our lives," said Johnnie Sue, making a
fist and closing it rapidly to squirt water up into the air.  She did it
again several times.

   "We haven't," said Hilda Mae, meaning herself and her siblings.  "Today
is actually the first time I've ever done that."

   "You're kidding!" said Luthor.

   "Nope," said the girl.  "I'm actually terribly embarrassed by all this."

   She sounded so serious that Luthor thought the situation was funny and
grinned.

   "Well you're pretty good at it for a first timer," he said.

   "So ...  what happens now?" asked Hilda Mae, nervous and talking because
of it.

   Johnnie Sue squirted some more water with her fist.  "Well, if we were
at the regular swimming hole, there's a rope there, and you can swing off
the bank and drop in the water.  We do that sometimes."

   "Naked?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Yup," said Johnnie Sue confidently.

   "You knew Moses would have a ..." said Hilda Mae.

   "It's ...  um ...  happened before." said Johnnie Sue carefully.

   "You didn't mention that in school," said Bernadette.

   "You didn't mention ever seeing one either," Johnnie Sue came back.

   Bernadette felt a clutch of fear, and lied to protect her reputation
without even thinking about it.  "That's because I never saw one until
today," she said smoothly.

   "You're kidding!" said Luthor.

   "Me either!" said Hilda Mae, jumping on the save-your-reputation
bandwagon.

   "If they've never been skinny-dipping, where would they see one?"
pointed out Johnnie Sue.

   "Not even your brother's?" asked Jesse, who saw his brothers and sisters
naked all the time.

   "Well ...  not hard or anything," lied Bernadette, blushing.

   "Me neither," said Hilda Mae weakly.

   "I can't believe you showed it to your own sisters," Moses said
suddenly.

   "I didn't show it to THEM," said Nathan, lying right along with his
sisters.  "I showed it to YOU."

   There was a chorus of "EWWWW" sounds, and laughter as Nathan flushed and
tried to explain what he meant.  When it died down Jesse spoke, almost to
himself.

   "I can't believe you showed OURS to your sisters."

   Nathan blinked.  He hadn't actually thought about that aspect of the
whole incident.  He had acted on impulse, feeling Moses' shame and
sympathizing with it.  "I guess I didn't think about that," he said weakly.

   "Well, it's too late NOW!" shouted Johnnie Sue, splashing the girls next
to her.  "They've already SEEN them!" She splashed some more as the girls
began to respond.  "THEY'RE SOILED FOREVER, AND WILL PROBABLY BECOME SEX
FIENDS!" she shrieked as both girls teamed up to dunk her.  Her last word
burbled as her head went under the water.  She ducked down to get away from
their hands and kicked away, to come up spluttering several feet away.

   "You're TERRIBLE!" yelled Bernadette, splashing water at her.  "If
you've been seeing them all these years you must already BE a sex fiend!"
She laughed.

   Johnnie Sue calmly stood up out of the water again, her hands going to
her breasts.  She caught a nipple between the thumb and forefinger of each
hand and pulled, making her breasts come to sharp points.

   "Whatever would make you think that?" she asked calmly.

   Her actions were so outrageous that everyone there, including Johnnie
Sue was shocked speechless.  Then, because she had to do something, she
shrieked again and dove at Moses, who happened to be the nearest person to
her.  She tackled him, and pulled him under the water, driving them both
more or less into the group.

   Bedlam ensued.  Luthor, already overexcited, lunged at Bernadette, who
was a couple of feet away from him, and she shrieked as she fell back and
went under.  Hilda Mae reacted by jumping on Jesse.  When the six of them
came up, they lunged for anybody they could reach, and the water war was on
again.

   Nathan felt a jab of fear as Bernadette's body disappeared under the
water under Luthor, and then another jolt shocked him as Hilda Mae lunged
on top of Jesse.  He stood up, his arms out wide, muscles tense and was
completely unprepared when Johnnie Sue burst up out of the water right in
front of him.  Her flailing hand landed on his still stiff prick and
grasped it automatically.  He howled as she used it to pull herself up,
then realized what was in her hand and pushed, while letting go at the same
time.  He lost his balance and fell backwards.  when he righted himself
everyone else was splashing anyone they could see and he realized his
sisters were fine.  Johnnie Sue was facing away from him, and he reached
for her, sliding his hands around her waist.  He pulled and lifted,
flipping her up into the air in a backward somersault over his left
shoulder as she howled, and his hands were suddenly full of her breasts.

   "Take THAT!" he growled as she flopped into the water.

   There was some other grab-assing going on, and the general level of
excitement didn't discriminate.  Girls reached for pricks and balls as
often as boys slid their hands over tingling breasts.  It wasn't serious in
the slightest.  It was pure sexual play, of a more or less innocent nature,
as hormones danced through teenaged bloodstreams.  Because it was more
innocent than less, it tapered off on its own, and slowly they ended up in
another circle, facing each other, breathing heavily as they caught their
breath.

   "There won't be no fish around here for hours," said Jesse, grinning.

   "We have to bring fish home," panted Hilda Mae.  "If we don't, we won't
get to go fishing any more."

   That brought things back to a more serious note.  All of them were
vaguely unsatisfied, sexually speaking, and felt the urge to do something
about it.  But even though things had gotten a lot cozier in the last hour,
they weren't THAT cozy.  They climbed out and stood, dripping on the grass.

   "How do we get dry?" asked Hilda Mae, darting looks at all the erect
penises now on plain display.  She didn't feel shy at all about standing
naked in front of any of these boys now.  Neither did Bernadette or Johnnie
Sue.

   "The sun dries you off, silly," said Johnnie Sue, flipping her hair to
her back.  Nathan noticed she had freckles on her breasts.  He marveled at
how different Johnnie Sue's looked than his sisters'.  Being younger, hers
were more conical in shape, and the nipples less well defined.  They had
felt harder in his hands too, firmer, somehow, even though they were still
very soft to the touch.

   "We just stand around naked?" asked Bernadette, "staring at each other?"

   "Yup," said Johnnie Sue.

   "No wonder you're a sex fiend," said Bernadette, giggling.

   "Don't stare at your brother's," warned Johnnie Sue.  "It'll make you go
cross-eyed." She laughed as both other girls immediately looked at Nathan's
penis, and he covered it.

   Both girls flushed and looked away, at a different penis.

   Jesse covered his.  "Don't look at mines!" he yelped.  That brought more
laughter.

   "Don't worry about it, Jesse," said Johnnie Sue.  "When you're older
yours will get as big as Nathan's" There were titters as Jesse cringed and
turned around to face away from them.

   Things had gone so well, in Johnnie Sue's mind, that she felt
emboldened. Taking a breath, she went further out on the limb that had
supported her so well, so far, that day.

   "Now, all you horny boys, go off out in the woods, and do whatever you
do so we can go fishing.  And don't any of you be peeking back here while
us girls do the same!"

   Everybody froze momentarily.  It was Moses who broke the stalemate.  The
image in his mind of what the girls would be doing was too much, and he
darted, barefoot, for a copse of bushes, disappearing into it.  Luthor
broke next, and nobody noticed that Jesse took off right behind him. 
Nathan fled because he was the only one left, and didn't want to stand
there alone.  Quite suddenly the girls were left by themselves.

   "You don't really mean to ...?" asked Bernadette, her voice hushed.

   "You can go off in the woods too, if you want," said Johnnie Sue much
more calmly than she felt.  "I'd like to borrow a little corner of your
blanket, though."

   "You're going to do that?" squeaked Hilda Mae.  "Here?"

   "I'm just as horny as they are," said Johnnie Sue, waving her hand in a
semicircle at the woods around them.  "I'll never be able to pay attention
to my bobber if I don't do something."

   ======================================

   It was an interesting situation that day, as more taboos were violated,
and more of the behavior they all loved was made more acceptable in strange
ways.  The three girls shared the blanket, barely fitting, as they lay back
in the drying sun.  Three fingers pushed repeatedly into three itchy
pussies, and three clitties were rubbed practically raw, as four boys
peeked through the bushes at them, and jerked aching boners until they
spurted onto leaves in front of them.

   Jesse's howl announced, though none of them knew it then, that he had
just spurted something through his penis for the first time in his life.

   ======================================

   Afterwards, the girls lay limp for a few minutes, and then got up and
scrambled into their clothing.  Johnnie Sue called out to the boys that
they could come back, and four very limp penises came into view as the boys
followed suit.  Luthor and Jesse were convinced there would be no fish
here, so they led the others upstream, above the bridge, where there was a
wide bend in the creek.  The only problem was that there were very few
places to stand because the undergrowth was so dense.  When it was
announced that Bernadette and Hilda Mae had never fished, several of the
natives offered to teach them.  Hilda Mae chose Moses.  She said it was
because he had saved Nathan's life in the mansion.  Bernadette snorted and
said that if Johnnie Sue would teach her, She bet they'd catch more fish.
It became a contest of whether a boy could teach fishing better than a
girl.

   The others spread out along the bank and serious fishing began.

   Chapter 20

   Moses hadn't actually offered to teach anyone how to fish.  When the
others did, he almost spoke, but kept silent.  That was primarily because
he had just watched these two strange white girls lying naked on a blanket,
pushing their fingers deep into their pussies.  They were in a different
category than Johnnie Sue, even though his world view had been stretched in
the recent past.  This morning had stretched it even further.  What Nathan
had done for him, and he recognized it for exactly what it was when it
happened, had meant a lot to him.  That these girls had seen him, and let
him see them, meant a lot to him too.  Still, while his world view had
stretched, it wasn't torn, and he was shy at the idea of being "alone" with
Hilda Mae.  She saw it instantly, when they'd picked a spot to fish from,
and she was waiting impatiently for him to begin teaching her how to win
the contest.  He just stood there, looking at his pole.

   "Come on, Moses," she urged.  "We have to catch more fish than them."

   "Uh ...  OK ...  he mumbled," not looking at her.

   "You just saw me naked as the day I was born!" she said softly.  "You
can surely look at me now that I'm dressed."

   "I know," he said haltingly.  "I just feel strange, that's all."

   "I thought you took care of that out in the woods," she teased.

   "I did!" He ducked his head further.  "I'm just not used to you ...  I
guess."

   Hilda Mae had truly felt intense gratitude when Moses had figured out a
way to get Nathan out of his predicament.  Her comment to him about wanting
to kiss him had only been half in jest.  It had shocked her, then, that she
felt any urge to kiss a Negro boy at all, but her feeling of relief that
Nathan wasn't dead had overcome that easily.

   "You remember how I said I felt like kissing you?  In the mansion?" she
whispered.

   He darted a look at her and then looked back down.

   "Yes," he answered softly.

   "If we win this contest I'll kiss you then for sure!" she said.

   She was teasing again, but when his head came up, there was something in
his eyes that shocked Hilda Mae to her very core.  His eyes flashed with
desire, ever so briefly, and then went blank again as he saw her startled
face.  She felt a flutter in her belly and recognized that for what it was
too.  Impulse drove her to add: "I mean it, Moses."

   The contest was won by Hilda Mae and Moses, with ten fish between them,
all pan-sized.  Johnnie Sue caught four, and Bernadette caught three. 
Johnnie Sue alleged that the only reason was that the worms Moses had dug
up for bait were bigger.

   "Boys with bigger worms always win!" said Moses, feeling cocky.

   He had meant it as 'boys always win', or 'boys, whose bait is better
than the bait of other boys would always win'.  He wasn't prepared for the
giggling of all three girls as they started teasing him about how big his
"worm" was.  Johnnie Sue said that Nathan should have caught a whale, and
the whole group broke up into gales of laughter, while Moses stood, looking
embarrassed.

   Hilda Mae felt the flutter in her belly again as she and the other girls
teased Moses about his "worm".  When she saw how embarrassed he was, she
remembered her promise.  The prospect of kissing a 'strange' boy was just
as much in her mind as the prospect of kissing that boy's dusky, dark lips,
and that made the flutter in her belly wag even more.  But she couldn't do
it in front of the rest of them.  She wasn't thinking about his feelings,
at that point, but her own.  Her beliefs had been stretched to the breaking
point too, but she couldn't do that in front of the others.

   "We'll be right back," she said suddenly, taking Moses hand and pulling
him toward the woods.  "We forgot something."

   There were looks of surprise, but it was getting late, and they all
needed to be getting back home with their fish, which still hadn't been
cleaned, so they set about getting ready to do that.  Bernadette sank to
her knees and began re-packing the picnic basket, while Nathan got all
fourteen of the fish they'd be taking home on the improvised stringer he'd
made.

   Hilda Mae pulled Moses, stumbling, a good thirty yards into the forest
before she stopped and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one had
followed them.  She looked at him, and he shrank back from her.

   "I owe you a kiss," she said softly.

   "No you don't," he moaned.  He could already feel his penis getting
stiff again.

   "Yes I do," she said, feeling the flutter kick up harder.  She couldn't
believe how horny she felt just anticipating kissing those wide-looking
lips.

   He stood there, frozen, anguish in his eyes.

   "Don't you want to kiss me?" she asked.

   "Uh huh," he gurgled.  Then "I mean no ma'am!"

   "Moses Finshaw, I'm not a 'ma'am'," she said.  "I'm just a girl you
helped win a fishing contest, and I promised you a kiss.  I try to keep my
promises."

   She stepped forward, recognizing his reluctance, and reached for his
hands.  She put them on her waist, and then draped her arms around his neck
loosely.

   Moses had kissed his mother, and his Auntie Millie.  Those had been dry
pecks on the lips.  What happened to him next was something so far outside
his realm of experience that it left him dazed.  Her lips came against his
hungrily, soft and loose, and her tongue flicked into his mouth like some
ravening animal.  Those soft breasts he had stared at pressed into his
chest, threatening to take up all the room his lungs needed for air, and
her loins pressed hard against his erection.  Her hips moved in time with
her head, as she twisted it gently, rubbing her lips all over his, the
crotch of her jeans moving his boner back and forth as it pressed against
her pussy.

   The effect was almost as devastating on Hilda Mae.  She kissed Moses the
same way she would have kissed Nathan, and the passion it unleashed was
just as intense as it was when she kissed her brother.  She wanted to sink
to the ground and see how far Moses' prick would reach into her throat ...
to see if it would touch that special sensitive spot that would bring her
relief.

   Moses closed his eyes once, very briefly, and surrendered to the
incredible feelings coursing through his body.  Then the shock of what was
happening hit his arms, which straightened instinctively, pushing the
terrible danger he was in away from him.  Their kiss broke suddenly, almost
violently, and Hilda Mae's eyes flew open wide, to mimic her mouth, which
was in the shape it would be in if she had been able to do what she was
thinking about.

   "I got to go!" gasped Moses, panting.

   Whirling, he set off at a dead run.  He had gone twenty-nine and a half
yards when his frantic brain realized what it would look like if he burst
into the clearing like the Klan was after him, and skidded to a stop. 
Taking a deep breath, to steady his nerves, he pushed the last eighteen
inches and tried to stroll into the clearing.  He couldn't control the wild
look in his eyes, though, and the fact that he was panting heavily.

   "What happened to you?" asked Johnnie Sue, looking up.  Nathan looked
over at him too, and concern came over his face.

   "Nothing!" he barked.  "I have to go!"

   "Where's Hilda Mae?" insisted Johnnie Sue.

   "She's coming," blurted Moses.  "I have to go!"

   He leaned down and picked up is pole and stringer.  He was moving toward
the bridge when Nathan blocked his path.

   "What happened?" he asked, his voice deep.

   Hilda Mae stepped into view.

   "I had to pee and he got all shy.  He thought I was going to do it right
in front of him." She giggled.  She, too, was flushed and breathing deeply.

   "Hildy!" yelled Bernadette, "You can't do that sort of thing to a boy!
What in the world has gotten into you?"

   "I'm sorry," laughed Hilda Mae.  "Will you forgive me, Moses?" she
called out.

   He turned to face her mostly because Bernadette had called him a boy. 
He was sixteen now, and didn't want the last thing all these kids to see
him do was scurry home like a little boy.  Hilda Mae's attitude also had
something to do with it.  He knew he had crossed a very dangerous line back
there in the woods.  He had crossed lines all day.  But she had clearly
crossed lines too, to meet him, and she didn't sound at all unhappy about
it.  She had even covered for his panic.

   "We'll talk about that later," he said, taking another deep breath. 
"I'll have to think about it.  "I'm actually terribly embarrassed by all
this." He grinned, as they remembered those were Hilda Mae's exact words,
back at where they had swum.  He disappeared into the forest before they
could react, though.

   =======================================

   Nathan knew something was up, because Hilda Mae wanted to suck him on
the way home.  They had been walking their bikes, because the fishing
poles, and stringer of fish seemed too much to try to tie onto one bike. 
They left the road at her insistence, taking the bikes with them, and went
far enough into the woods that no one passing by could see them.

   "What happened back there ...  really," he asked as she attacked his
belt and pulled his pants and underwear to his knees.  He was flaccid, and
she played with his penis, on her knees, fascinated with the difference
between this, and when he was hard.  Bernadette stood, watching her sister,
also suspicious.

   Hilda Mae looked up at her brother.

   "I kissed him," she said softly.

   "You WHAT?" he exploded.  There was still racism burned into Nathan
Wilson's subconscious.

   "I promised him a kiss if we won the contest.  We won, so I honored my
promise," she said simply.

   "Do you know how much trouble you'd be in if anybody found out?" he
gasped.

   "Do you know how much trouble I'd be in if anybody found out I do this?"
she asked.  She sucked his soft penis into her mouth.  It began to swell
and lengthen almost instantly.

   "But ..." he gasped, feeling light headed.

   "Oh, leave her alone.  It was just a kiss," said Bernadette, getting to
her knees beside her sister.  "It's my turn to taste," she said in her
sister's ear.

   Hilda Mae pulled off and jacked the stiffening prick in her hand
expertly.  It was almost hard.  "OK," she said, inspecting the head and
marveling at how she could get that so far down her throat.  "If I can get
him in deep enough I can have an orgasm." She leaned forward and pressed
her lips to his curly brown pubes.

   "How do you DO that?!" gasped Bernadette.

   Hilda Mae didn't answer her.  He was fully stiff now, and it was
tickling the spot.  She put her hands on his hips and used them to help her
head make the short jabs that brought a rush of wet to her pussy.  She
stayed on, almost thinking she could make it happen again, but then he
jerked and it hit her gag reflex.  She pulled off coughing.  Bernadette
reached for it, and pulled him around so she could suck too.  She tried a
couple of times to get it in as far as Hildy had, but gagged each time. 
Finally she gave up on that, and started sucking the knob like she liked to
do.  One hand fumbled with the buttons on her jeans and she slid her
fingers inside to rub.

   Nathan groaned, and Bernadette hummed as her mouth was washed with
salty-sweet goodness.  She swallowed, and shuddered as her fingers, and the
taste in her mouth brought her off.  She continued to suck and lick and
squeeze until he was limp again.  Then she just stood up, licking her lips
and re-buttoned her jeans.

   ===================================

   Since they were going right by Flossie's, they stopped and offered her
some fish.  She declined, but let them use the cleaning station that was
made from old two by fours and a battered counter top that had come from
who knows where.  She stayed to chat with them as Nathan taught the girls
how to clean their catch.  Neither girl was much impressed, but she told
them it was part of the job, and that it had to be done.  When they were
finished she changed her mind and accepted two fish for her own dinner, and
waved as they went home.

   ==================================

   Flossie noticed the subtle change in her classroom.  The older students
were smiling more, and cooperating better.  There seemed to be very little,
if any reticence left when it came to discussing something in the realm of
things social, whether it was about how government served the people, or
how cooperative farming affected the marketplace.  The teens seemed more
relaxed too, and it worried her.

   The primary thing behind her feeling of disquiet was that she watched
Johnnie Sue, Luthor and Jesse, to see how they interacted, based on her
sure knowledge that they had been dabbling in sexual things.  She had
convinced herself that it really was play, as Nathan had suggested.  That
they were friends, and close friends at that, was apparent in much more
than their casual physical touches, or the way they talked easily with each
other.  There was the occasional look, between Johnnie Sue and either of
the boys ...  that almost sultry smile she shared with them, that made
warning bells vibrate inside Flossie.

   Then, in a moment of idle observation, during a vocabulary test she saw
something that made those bells start chiming softly.

   Flossie, because she didn't have the resources to prepare and give
traditional written tests, asked the questions verbally, and then gave the
children time to write down their answers.  If a student didn't know the
answer, or was unsure, he could ask other students for hints.  The way it
worked was that the answer itself could not be provided, but things could
be said that might help the questioning student remember.  She did this for
two reasons.  The first was that it forced the children to think carefully
about the hints they gave.  If someone gave too strong a hint, the question
was thrown out, and nobody got credit for it.  That often let her ask more
questions, which she felt covered more territory.  The second was part of
the first.  Quite often, the way the children phrased their hints was
clever in the extreme, because they had to be very careful not to overdo
it.

   Flossie read off the next word: "Adrenaline"

   Hilda Mae furrowed her brow, and said "I should know this.  I remember
the word, but I can't remember what it means."

   Moses, sitting next to her, said "Boy, howdy, I sure hope you're not
around if a tree falls on me or something.  I'd have to stay there
forever!"

   Hilda Mae looked puzzled, and then her face lit up.  She scribbled on
the paper she had brought from home, and then sat back.  She turned to
Moses.

   "Thank you, Moses," she said, reaching out to touch his thigh.

   It was just that, merely a touch.  It physically punctuated her verbal
expression of gratitude.

   But to Flossie, it rang a bell, because this rich white girl had touched
a black sharecropper's son on his thigh, as casually as if it were ... 
only a touch.  Not only that, Moses didn't react to it, except to grin,
with a sideways glance and continue writing down his own answer.

   It was too familiar ...  too casual ...  too intimate.

   Flossie began to watch the others more closely.  She saw more touches.
Only Ruth Ann seemed to be exempt from this casual, friendly touching that
would be completely normal in a school five hundred miles north of where
they were.  But they weren't five hundred miles north.  They were here.

   Then there were the glances.  When she actually paid attention, Flossie
couldn't believe she hadn't seen the looks that Bernadette occasionally
shot towards Curtis Lee, or the way those glances flustered the young man.
She was actually FLIRTING with him!  Not only that, he was completely AWARE
she was flirting with him, and he did nothing about it, except duck his
head, or look away and almost smile.

   When had THIS happened?

   It took her two days to puzzle it out, and it was something outside of
school that clicked.  The next Saturday, Nathan and his sisters showed up
to paint.  They had their fishing poles with them.  They didn't act any
different than they had in the past, but Hilda Mae's "Let's to FISHING!",
when they were done, contained too much excitement for a girl who had been
almost nauseated by cleaning fish.

   Her mind went back to what she and Nathan had seen at the fishing hole.
They had gone fishing the next week, and now they were going fishing again.
She was well aware that the others often contributed to the table with fish
too.  She suddenly had a vision in her head of the whole group, frolicking
naked in the grass, the girls jerking on spurting cocks.

   Then she was assailed by doubts.  Nathan had assured her he hadn't told
anyone about Johnnie Sue and the two boys.  She believed him.  And surely
he would never stand for his sisters to get involved in something like
that! Most CERTAINLY not with Colored boys!  Johnnie Sue she could come to
grips with.  She had grown up with Colored folks.  But not Nathan Wilson,
or his two lily white sisters!  It just wasn't possible.

   Still ...  it wouldn't hurt to wander down by the creek ...  maybe pick
some berries, or gather some wild greens to cook up later that night.

   ========================================

   Bernadette didn't actually intend to flirt with Curtis Lee.  But, in the
last week, she had gotten the chance to suck Nathan and drink down his
luscious cream twice.  Hilda Mae had tried it once more, demanding that
Nathan warn her before he spurted.  When she took his nectar that time, she
pulled her throat off of him and opened her mouth, letting the strong
spurts hit her tongue, which was hanging out.  Bernadette had had an orgasm
just watching the thick white stuff pool on Hildy's tongue and then cascade
down onto her chin when it overflowed.  Hilda Mae had closed her mouth and
scrunched up her face, before swallowing in one convulsive motion.  She had
looked confused, and then smiled.

   "That's not so bad that way," she'd said.

   Still, she didn't like it as much as Bernadette did, and the other two
times she had used Nathan's prick to "tickle her throat" as she put it, and
then pulled off to let Bernadette finish him off.  That they could do
quietly in the bedroom, after their parents were in bed.  Nathan could
control his groans now, as he spurted.

   The problem was that they couldn't let him suck their pussies in return.
Not in the house.  They couldn't control the grunts, whines and moans as
his exquisite tongue and sucking lips on their clitties evoked in them as
they came.  That, they had to do away from the house, and you could only go
into the woods so many times before someone would see and wonder.  So
Nathan only serviced them once during the week.

   That left Bernadette in a constant state of arousal.  She couldn't get
Curtis Lee's imaginary penis out of her mind, and seeing him in school
didn't help.  It was for that reason that, in a private moment, she invited
him to go fishing, and told him "most everyone" would be there.  She didn't
mention the skinny-dipping that would almost certainly take place.

   The only reason he went was because of her assurance that others would
be present.  That, and something in him that was akin to what drives a moth
to the flame that devours it.

   ========================================

   Johnnie Sue and her blood brothers hadn't had much opportunity to get
together to 'release sexual tension' either.  Planting of the cotton crop
was going on, and they had to help around the house, since their fathers
were out in the fields all day.  They hadn't had the chance to play the
week before, even though, as things turned out, they weren't unhappy about
it.  They had had to run home to get there in time for dinner, and couldn't
dally.

   They made up for that by agreeing to get to the fishing hole early, to
take care of things BEFORE Nathan and his sisters showed up.  They had been
clued in that Nathan was helping Miss Flossie paint her living room, and
that he and his sisters wouldn't come fishing until after lunch, so they
just met two hours earlier than that.

   Johnnie Sue was elated when Jesse arrived and announced that he could
now squirt.  He hadn't told anybody about that, preferring to make sure it
would happen again.  He had squirted every night since then, though, and
happily told her so.

   "You're a real man now," she said solemnly, holding her hand out to
shake his.

   They waited for Luthor, talking about what had happened the week before.
Jesse allowed as how clever Johnnie Sue was to just act like seeing Nathan
and his sisters in the fishing hole naked was perfectly normal.

   "It just came to me," she said, feeling clever.  "And besides, I got to
see a grown up one on Nathan.  Boy his is big.  There ain't no way in the
world that big old thing would fit up inside me."

   "Isn't," said Jesse, grinning.  "Mines would, I bet," he added.  "Mines
is a baby compared to his."

   Johnnie Sue looked at him.  "Are you saying you WANT to put your root up
inside me?  Have real sex with me?"

   "Gosh no, Johnnie Sue!" he said, his eyes going round.  "I'd get a
whippin' for sure if'n I did that!"

   Johnnie Sue looked at him steadily.  "But if'n you DIDN'T get a
whippin', would you want to?"

   Jesse didn't know how to answer that.  Blood brother or not, she was
white.  "I guess so," he said carefully.

   "I'm not saying I'd let you, now," she said, arching her eyebrow.  "I
was just curious if you think I'm ugly or not."

   Jesse looked at her strangely.  "Johnnie Sue, you KNOW I think you're
pretty.  Every time I get around you my pecker gets stiff as a board!"

   Johnnie Sue laughed with the exuberance of the joyful knowledge that she
was attractive to someone she cared a lot about.

   "When I'm old enough?" she said.  "When I'm ready to let a man put his
pecker up inside of me?" She looked at him steadily.  "I'm going to let you
be the first one." She pronounced it very seriously, then robbed the
seriousness of it all by adding "Unless Luthor is the first.  I don't know.
How do you choose which one will be first when you have two blood
brothers?" She grinned.

   "Wow," said Jesse, stunned.  "I wish Luthor would get here, cause I need
to rub right this instant!"

   "Keep your pants on there, boy," said Luthor, shoving through the
bushes. His use of "boy" didn't sting.  Between them it was just a word. 
"Or not." he said, laughing.  "Cause I'm here now."

   They got naked like they were being paid to get naked, dropping their
clothes.  Johnnie Sue reached out to grab each them.

   "Jesse says he can squirt now," said Johnnie Sue.  "Can I do him
separate?  Kind of in honor of the situation?"

   "Wow, really?" said Luthor, impressed.  "Sure.  I can do myself!"

   "OK," said Johnnie Sue, smiling.  "But when you squirt, I want to know
...  and I want you to squirt it on me, OK?  I really liked that last
time."

   Johnnie Sue knelt in front of Jesse and began uncovering and then
covering his glans lovingly.  She talked to his penis, telling it how grown
up it was now, and how manly it was, as Jesse's eyes got larger and larger,
and his breathing came in gasps.  Her talk about letting him put his pecker
in her someday had gotten him to the edge, and her hand, and words emptied
his young balls within a minute.

   "Oh JOHNNIE SUE!" he gasped, arching backwards as it started.

   Johnnie Sue watched in fascination as the little slit in the tip of his
penis opened fractionally.  She expected his semen to be black, like he
was, and when the white stream erupted from it and splattered her neck she
was astonished.  It looked and felt just like Luthor's.  She aimed it
downward, and a second jet painted her breast.  That was all, though.  He
didn't produce as much as he would begin to in just a few short weeks.  She
let go of him, and fell back onto the grass, rubbing both hands through his
spunk and spreading the warmth over her breasts and belly.  She shoved one
slippery hand between her legs and opened them wide, slipping a finger deep
into her pussy.

   Luthor stepped closer, his hand flashing on his penis.  He knew it would
spurt way out, and he wanted to do as Johnnie Sue had asked.  For that
reason, he stepped between her legs, since that would give him her whole
upper torso to aim at, instead of wasting some by shooting across her body
from the side.  Then, afraid he'd hit her in the face, as he felt his balls
give up his seed, he squatted, his own knees wide, and aimed his penis at
her navel.

   "Johnnie Sue!" he barked, and the first stream left his prick.  Gravity
laid it in a line from just above her navel to the finger that was whipping
in and out of her pussy.  It coated the finger as it came out, and went
inside her when the finger went back in.  He leaned forward, light headed,
as the second shot and then the third leapt from his prick.  Both pooled in
her pubic hair.  Her free hand scooped up what was on her belly, and rubbed
it into her breasts.  Her other hand mashed down on the puddle on her
pubes, and rubbed it into her pussy as she drove two fingers deep inside
her.

   They may as well have fucked her.  Her fingers shoved millions of their
sperm cells up inside her hot tunnel.  Only the fact that it was the wrong
time of the month saved her from being pregnant without ever have having a
penis inside her.  The hundreds of thousands of wriggling sperm cells that
swam through her cervix, and drifted aimlessly in her womb, found nothing
to fertilize.

   Chapter 21

   Bernadette was nervous.  Her invitation to Curtis Lee to go fishing had
been somewhat impetuous, she now decided, as she followed Nathan and Hilda
Mae through the woods toward the fishing hole.  She couldn't make up her
mind if she wanted him to be there or not.

   The craving in her to actually see the penis which, up to now, was just
an imaginary construct in her mind, was strong in her.  What she really
wanted, at this point in time, was to be able to stare at whatever he had
in his pants ...  examine it closely.  She was intelligent enough to know
that what she kept seeing in her mind would not, most likely, match
reality. Seeing Luthor's, Jesse's and Moses' penises had proved that they
didn't all look alike.  She loved her brother's penis so much that she
hadn't been able to think of anything else Curtis Lee's could look like,
though, other than being dark, while Nathan's was light.

   Her active imagination had pursued many scenarios, though, and very few
of them seemed to end up in a satisfactory way.  In one, he was already
there when they arrived, and she had to strip naked in front of him.  That
one left her weak.  After sucking Nathan one time, she had stood to find
shiny streaks of her fluids running down her thighs.  Nathan had licked all
those shiny streaks up before sucking more from her pussy itself, but the
thought of others seeing her wet like that was mortifying.  And she knew,
somehow, that she'd get wet when she saw Curtis Lee's penis.

   In another scenario, they were all there, sporting in the water, when
Curtis Lee arrived.  He took one look at the naked bodies in the water ...
and at her ...  and then left.  That one made her hurt deep inside.

   In yet another scenario, he was there, and was magnificent in his
nakedness, but paid no attention to her whatsoever.  That one made her ill.

   In another, he was magnificent in his nakedness, and paid so much
attention to her that Nathan fought with him.

   Perhaps the worst one was that he didn't come at all.

   She had lagged behind, stumbling along, when she heard voices up ahead,
welcoming Nathan and Hilda Mae.  The joyful welcome in those voices perked
her up immensely.  She'd always had friends back in Atlanta, and when she'd
first come to Catfish Hollow she had felt lonely and disillusioned.  She'd
been sure she'd never have a single friend here.  Now, she realized that
the girls back in Atlanta, whose attention she had craved so much, had been
empty-headed and spoiled, with little substance in their lives.  They'd had
pretty dresses, and servants and all that, but they never talked about
anything that actually meant much.  They weren't anything like Johnnie Sue,
who was so confident, and bold, and capable.  They weren't anything like
Ruth Ann, who was so smart, and calm and ...  capable.

   She stumbled into the clearing, her fishing pole catching on a branch,
and she blinked in the strong sunlight.  Hilda Mae was already dropping her
bra on top of her shirt.  Jesse and Johnnie Sue were already in the water.
As she put her things down Luthor came out of the woods, naked, his penis
flopping limply between his legs.  He grinned and waved, heading for the
water.  Nathan was spreading out the blanket.  She felt a kind of
contentment at how normal everything looked, and then a thrill of something
exciting as she realized how abnormal everything actually was.  Kids her
age didn't play naked back in Atlanta.  This was really something from some
kind of fairy tale, and it was hugely more exciting than anything she had
thought Catfish Hollow would ever be like.  She began to get naked, feeling
another thrill as she realized she didn't mind being naked in front of
these people at all.

   ======================================

   There was no frenzy this time.  They got into the water, neck deep and
in a circle, and they just talked.  Moses arrived, and Johnnie Sue yelled
out, asking him if he brought his big worm with him this time.  That got
laughter.  When he shucked his overalls and displayed a thoroughly flaccid
penis, she yelled that he wouldn't win any contest with bait like that, and
there was more laughter, but it was all in good spirit.

   Bernadette kept peering at the bank, so much so that Luthor finally
asked her what she was looking for.

   "I sort of invited Curtis Lee to come fishing," she admitted, blushing.

   "You can't do THAT!" said Johnnie Sue.  "He's too old!"

   "He's the same age as Nathan," said Bernadette in her defense.

   "No, he's a year older," said Moses.

   "Wow ...  a whole year!" snorted Bernadette.

   "Why are you so interested in having him here?" asked Nathan,
suspiciously.

   "She wants to see his root, stupid!" said Johnnie Sue.

   "I do not!" said Bernadette weakly, blushing furiously.

   "Yes you do, and that makes you a hussy," said Johnnie Sue, grinning.

   "He's just a friend ...  like you guys," pleaded Bernadette.

   Nathan looked at her critically.  He remembered quite well the sight of
his sister, naked, on her knees, in front of Curtis Lee, groveling and
pleading for him not to tell others what he had just seen.  He knew how
grateful they all were that he had kept his promise to keep silent.  He
also knew, on some level, that if Curtis Lee skinny-dipped with them, that
his silence would be even more firmly bound.  Not that he doubted Curtis
Lee.  He was firmly convinced that Curtis Lee would take that secret to his
grave, if he promised to.  Curtis Lee was a man of his word.  That was
something Nathan was convinced of on a level he couldn't even explain.  The
concept of his sister wanting to see a black man's penis would have been
far more troubling to him, except that the next thing that popped into his
mind was that he would give a great deal of money if he could get a peek of
what Miss Flossie would look like if she showed up here and decided to join
the group in swimming naked.

   His train of thought was broken by Johnnie Sue's voice.

   "Well, he probably won't come anyway.  I can't see him being willing to
show you his ...  worm." She pushed Moses, and there were snickers.

   "I didn't exactly ...  um ...  tell him ...  about the swimming part,"
admitted Bernadette.

   There were hoots and splashes, which suddenly erupted into a full
fledged water war.  Quick and sometimes transitory alliances were made, as
two would team up to take down one.  Sometimes someone would come to the
single combatant's aid.  It was popular to team up against Nathan, since he
was the biggest and strongest of them all.  He was draped with wet naked
teenagers on several occasions as he staggered along on the uneven muddy
bottom, growling like a bear.

   It was at one such point that Curtis Lee emerged into the clearing, a
fishing pole in one hand, and a gunny sack in the other.  He stood staring
at the battle in front of him.  He saw Luthor leap out of the water, his
white, naked skin flashing in the sunlight, as he landed heavily on Hilda
Mae from one side, driving them both down under the water.  Moses reached
into the swirling water and pulled Luthor up, flipping him to one side. 
Hilda Mae surfaced, spluttering and dove on top of Moses, driving him down
onto Luthor.  Bernadette was clinging to Nathan's back, and Jesse was
trying to trip him by sweeping his leg behind.  Nathan just leaned sideways
and tipped over, landing on Jesse.  Johnnie Sue jumped on top of that whole
pile and all four of them pushed up into the air, like leaping fish as they
separated.  Bernadette stood, waist deep in water, her breasts gleaming in
the sun as she wiped water from her eyes.

   Hilda Mae saw him first, and stopped.  When Moses surfaced in front of
her she turned him around so he could see Curtis Lee.  No one called out
his name, but as they saw him the fight subsided.

   "What in the hell are you doing?" asked Curtis Lee, astounded by what he
was seeing.

   "Swimming!" said Hilda Mae, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

   "Naked?" asked Curtis Lee, incredulous.  Had it just been Nathan and his
sisters, he might not have been all that startled.

   "You've skinny-dipped before," said Moses.

   "Not with ..." Curtis Lee didn't finish.  "Not for a long time," he
amended.

   "Well, you can remedy that now," said Johnnie Sue, looking at him
interestedly.

   "No way!" said Curtis Lee.

   "Oh, come on, Curtis Lee," said Johnnie Sue.  "We've already scared the
fish away.  We just wanted to cool off and have some fun.  You may as well
come on in for a while.  We'll fish later."

   "I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

   "We're all just friends here," said Jesse.  "You're our friend, ain't
you?"

   "That's not the point," said Curtis Lee, shifting uncomfortably. 
"There's ...  girls here."

   "You ain't got anything we haven't seen before," joked Johnnie Sue.  She
changed her voice, raising it, and inserting an overly heavy southern
drawl. "Us ladies have learned to ignore it when a boy gets ... 
indelicate." She grinned.

   Nathan, rather than being happy that Curtis Lee was being so modest,
felt a twinge of fear that, if he left, he would have one more secret to
keep ...  a secret that he wasn't involved in.  Like many people, Nathan
wanted his behavior to be validated by that of others.  If Curtis Lee
joined them, the circle would be unbroken, and Curtis Lee would be firmly
in it.

   "I think I know what his problem is," he said.  While the water war had
gone on, Nathan had gotten erect.  You can't wrestle with naked people in
the water, and not notice other erections, and he knew the other boys were
erect too.  What he had done last time had convinced Moses.  Maybe it would
convince Curtis Lee too.

   "Guys?" he called out.  "Come over here to where we can stand up."

   They didn't come eagerly, to be sure, but when the girls got together
and started chanting "Stand up ...  stand up ...  stand up" emotions of ...
something ...  drove them that were stronger than the urge not to display
those erections in front of another male.

   Curtis Lee didn't understand at first.  Then, when four dripping ... 
and very stiff penises ...  emerged from the water, he did.  His eyes
darted to the girls, who were looking on in an obviously excited and
approving manner.  They had stopped chanting and were now clapping, as if
some great performer was taking his bows.

   "They tell me this is quite normal," said Nathan, his guts twisting. 
"The ...  ladies ...  have been very nice about ignoring how normal us guys
are."

   "It don't look like they're ignoring it to me," said Curtis Lee.

   "Doesn't!" yelled Hilda Mae, giggling.

   It was a breaking point, where events were loaded on an invisible
scales. Whatever happened next would tip those scales, one way or the
other. Curtis Lee was quite aware that Bernadette had been flirting with
him.  He had puzzled about that for long moments.  Her interest in him
seemed entirely unreasonable, based on his experience.  Yet, it seemed to
be genuine.  He didn't delude himself that anything could come from that
interest.  While he lay in the dark, stroking his prick, he thought about
Bernadette, as he had seen her.  He hadn't actually seen her DO anything
with Nathan.  Nathan had been busy feasting between his other sister's
thighs.  Bernadette had been like some Greek statue, slim and pale and
smooth looking, like marble.  He could still vividly see her almost
blindingly white breasts, with their tiny nipples the same color as his own
skin.  And, when she had said she didn't mind him seeing her like that, the
permission that gave him to think of her while he masturbated came as a
tremendous release.

   He remembered how she had invited him here.  This couldn't have happened
spontaneously ...  this skinny-dipping.  She would have known they would do
this ...  when she invited him.

   "You've done this before," he stated to the group.

   "Done what?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "Gone skinny-dipping together ...  all of you, I mean."

   "Yes," said Johnnie Sue, not understanding what he was driving at.

   Heat exploded in Curtis Lee's chest.  She had invited him here, knowing
he would see her, and inviting him to be naked ...  here ...  in her sight.

   "Bernadette invited me," he said.

   "We know that," said Johnnie Sue, looking at him oddly.

   "And you don't mind?" It was clearly directed at Nathan.

   "Well ..." Nathan hedged.  How was he supposed to answer that question.
Letting something happen was a lot easier than saying publicly that it ...
should ...  happen.  "We're just swimming."

   Everyone there knew that wasn't entirely true.  In all of their minds,
they knew they weren't "just" swimming.  This all had something do to do
with sex, and they all knew that, Curtis Lee included.  But, as stated
before, it's much easier to just let something happen, than it is to
approve it, in a public forum.  For that reason, no one said anything.

   The balance was lost, as Curtis Lee put his fishing pole down on the
ground.  The balance tipped, but not much.

   "I can't do this with you watching," he said.

   Without a word, the three girls turned, forming a group and facing more
or less away from Curtis Lee.  The boys sank back down into the water and
drifted toward the girls, to reform the group.

   Curtis Lee got undressed quickly, wanting, now that he had decided to do
this crazy thing, to get into the water quickly.  He had no way of knowing
that, as men went, he was unusual.  Until Nathan and the others had stood
up, he had never seen an erect penis in his life, other than his own.  If
he had seen Nathan's, there in the fire barn, he didn't remember it.  What
made Curtis Lee unusual was that his penis was the same length, whether it
was hard or soft.  It did thicken a bit when it got hard, but it did not
grow any longer.  As far as what it was intended for, that didn't really
matter, because it was seven inches long.  That was if you measured it -
and he had not - along the top, from where his kinky black pubes sprinkled
his skin, to the tip.  If you measured it from underneath, starting at his
balls, it was only six inches.

   Take out a ruler.  Look and see how long seven inches really is.

   Other than that, Curtis Lee's penis looked like many others.  Rather
than being thick and veiny, it was sleek and narrow.  His glans had a
pointy look to it, with a smaller ridge behind it than some.  His foreskin
covered the tip almost completely, even when he was erect, and the skin on
his penis would move two or three inches in his hand as he stroked it.  In
short, it was perfectly designed for its intended purpose ...  to slip into
a vagina with a minimum of resistance, going very deep, where it would
deliver its precious cargo as close to a womb as possible.  If conditions
were perfect, it would even reach inside a womb.

   That was what was revealed, as Curtis Lee walked gingerly on bare feet
toward the group in the water.  Of the girls, only Johnnie Sue was not able
to surreptitiously maneuver in the water so she could turn her head and
peek.

   Bernadette gave out an involuntary gasp as, out of the corner of her
eyes, she got a view of the thing dangling between his thighs.  It didn't
look ANYTHING like she had envisioned.  Her pussy clenched, and she was
suddenly very glad she was in the water.

   Hilda Mae didn't gasp, but her mouth took on an "O" shape.  She looked
at every penis, at this point in her life, in terms of whether or not she
thought it would touch that lovely spot in her throat that seemed to
manufacture orgasms.  This one was clearly longer than Nathan's, which just
barely did the trick.  She had to press her nose hard into his pubes to get
his there.  One reason she liked what she didn't know was called the "69"
position was because that let her get it just a little further down her
throat, and she could massage that spot more easily.  She licked her lips,
looking at Curtis Lee's.  That one would go clear past her special spot.

   The former festive mood was gone.  When Curtis Lee joined them,
conversation didn't seem to want to come.  It was for that reason that
Johnnie Sue decided to share her secret with all of them, instead of just
her blood brothers.

   "You remember the mansion?" she asked suddenly.

   There were nods, and looks of interest.  That kind of adventure comes
all too rarely in young people's lives.

   "I saw something that I never got a chance to tell you about," she said.
She shot a look at her blood brothers, and they recognized it as an
invitation not to admit that they already knew this information.

   She told them about the wall she had seen, up in the rafters.

   Bernadette's reaction was to be expected.

   "There IS an attic?" she asked excitedly.  "How could you forget to tell
us about THAT?"

   "I'm not sure it's really an attic," said Johnnie Sue.  "It's just a
wall, and it's just in one corner.  If it IS an attic, it can't be very
big."

   Hilda Mae was waving her arms under the water, making swirls.  Her hand
bumped into Nathan's stomach.  She stopped, and let her hand settle lower,
until it landed softly on his penis.  It had just begun to soften, and she
gave it a little squeeze.  His hand came and batted hers away.  She looked
at him and smiled at his scowl.

   "We have to go back and explore it!" said Bernadette, standing up.  Her
breasts broke the water, and she sank back down immediately.

   "There's nothing there," said Luthor.  "We all saw that place.  It's
been picked over for years."

   Bernadette looked unhappy.

   "You know?" said Jesse suddenly.  "I was thinking about that place the
other day.  I was thinking that, with all that wood, we could build a
pretty nice tree house or something."

   "What would you want with a tree house?" asked Moses.

   "I don't know," said Jesse, looking embarrassed.  "Someplace to go? 
Kind of a clubhouse or something?"

   "That's too far to go just to sit around in a treehouse," said Luthor.

   "I didn't say to build it there," said Jesse.  "There's just all that
wood ...  and stuff."

   Johnnie Sue and Hilda Mae thought of the same thing at the same time. 
Having a tree house would mean there would be a place to go to ...  play.
Foster's Creek was lined with trees, for a space of a hundred or so yards
on either side.  Beyond that were fields.  There were lots of places along
Foster's creek where a treehouse could be put.  And that would be a lot
closer to where they all lived than the mansion was.

   "He might have something there," said Johnnie Sue.  "It would be kind of
cool to have our own place."

   Hilda Mae moved her hand behind her brother.  She tried to guess where
his legs would be, and sank down in the water to snake her hand between his
buttocks.  She felt for his balls, and her fingertips brushed them.  He
jumped, standing and looking behind him.

   "What's the matter?" Hilda Mae giggled.

   "I think a fish just bumped into me," he growled.

   "You do have a pretty impressive worm there," said Johnnie Sue, looking
straight at it.

   That got them all laughing, while Curtis Lee, who felt a lot more
comfortable by now, looked on in confusion.  Then they had to explain to
him about the contest the week before, and who had won it, and why the
reference to big worms was funny.

   "I want to have another contest this week!" said Bernadette.

   "You'll just lose again," said Hilda Mae.  "Moses and I have the best
WORM!" she ended up shrieking.

   "I need a new partner," groused Bernadette.  "My partner doesn't even
HAVE a worm." That brought gales of laughter too.

   Johnnie Sue tried to put a hurt expression on her face.  "I can't help
it," she said.  "I suppose that's why you invited Curtis Lee to come
fishing!"

   There were more catcalls and splashing directed Bernadette's way.

   "Maybe it IS!" she shouted.  Then she blushed furiously.

   "I told you she wanted to see it," joked Johnnie Sue.

   "I do NOT!" screamed Bernadette, splashing her tormentor.

   Johnnie Sue laughed.  "Well I'll need a new partner too, then, if you
are going to abandon me like that.  Who has the best worm?" she squealed.
She started reaching under the water toward Nathan, who backpedaled.  Then
she went for Luthor, who stared at her.  She grabbed his penis and shouted
"GOT ONE!" He yelped and pushed off backwards, embarrassed.  His hips broke
the water to show Johnnie Sue's hand slipping off of his "worm", and she
turned to face Jesse.  His hands came up out of the water, palms facing
her, his eyes wide.

   "No, Johnnie Sue ...  NO!"

   She cackled and dove for him.

   Just like that, the water war was on again.

   This time it was frantic.  Sexual energy raged through the bloodstreams
of the youths.  All three girls went on a rampage of trying to grasp any
penis they could reach, shouting that they were searching for the best worm
and squealing loudly when they found, and were able to grasp one, however
temporarily.  The boys fought back in a less than enthusiastic manner, with
the possible exception of Curtis Lee, who had not been prepared for the
orgiastic atmosphere to erupt.

   That it was Johnnie Sue who first came after him probably helped, at
least a little.  He had known her all her life, and her groping hand, even
though it was that of a white girl, wasn't so terrorizing.  All she did was
give him a little squeeze, though, and let him go to turn for Jesse,
yelling that she wanted to find out if his was better.  When Hilda Mae
started stalking him, though, his eyes got wide and he put his hands out to
ward her off like Jesse had to Johnnie Sue.  He was saved by Moses, who
came up behind Hilda Mae and grabbed her around the waist, tipping them
both into the water.  Her hand found his member and she squeezed it.  "I
got MY worm!" she yelled, and pulled Moses to one side.

   In the swirl of bodies, Curtis Lee found himself standing beside Nathan,
with Bernadette facing them both.

   "Hmmmmm" she said loudly.  "Which one is better?" She advanced toward
them, both hands out like claws.

   "Bernie!" warned Nathan, drawing her name out into an extended long "E".
Curtis Lee got behind him, pushing him towards Bernadette.

   Nathan suddenly put his hands on Bernadette's shoulders and leapfrogged.
His penis slapped her on the forehead as she ducked.  She came up to find
Curtis Lee floating right in front of her, a horrified look on his face.

   "Will you be my partner?" she asked softly.

   "ME?" he gasped.

   "Just for fishing, of course," she said, advancing toward him slowly. 
"You have a good ...  worm.  I peeked."

   "Ohhhhhhh," moaned the nervous young man.

   Very slowly, and very gently, Bernadette reached toward him, her hand
below the water.  He stared at her naked shoulder, with the arm now
pointing at him.  Her fingers brushed flesh and he flinched, otherwise
frozen.  Her hand almost drifted to his phallus, and gripped it gently. 
She squeezed, also gently.

   "A very good worm," she murmured, as it grew stiffer in her hand.

   "You can't do that," he whispered.

   She cocked her head at him, her almond shaped eyes peering into his
face.

   "All right," she said, letting go of him.  "But I still want you to be
my partner."

   ======================================

   Off to one side, Hilda Mae floated beside Moses, still holding his penis
in her hand.  They were shoulder to shoulder, though, and facing the rest
of the kids, and it just looked like they were floating there, side by
side. His left hand came to her buttocks, and drifted against them.  She
squeezed his penis, and he let his fingertips brush along the smooth
contours of her firm, round bottom.  Her hand stroked him slowly.

   "Don't do that," he gasped.

   "Why not?" she asked, not looking at him.

   "I'll squirt," he groaned.

   "I don't care," she said softly.

   "Hilda Mae," he groaned, stretching her name into a an extended "eeeee".

   "If we win this time I'll kiss you again," she whispered.

   Seconds later, flecks of milky white began to drift up to the surface of
the water.  Hilda Mae saw them, and pushed them around with the fingers of
her free hand.  Moses just gasped for air as his prick went soft.

   =========================================

   In the end, it was plain that Hilda Mae and Moses would be one team, and
that Curtis Lee and Bernadette would be another.  Johnnie Sue made a
production out of fuming, and finally demanded that Nathan, Luthor and
Jesse all stand up so she could choose which "worm" would help her win.

   "I claim all THREE!" she shouted, laughing that she had actually gotten
them to bare their stiff pricks in front of everyone.  She turned in the
water and looked at her opponents.  "You won last week," she said to Hilda
Mae.  She turned to Bernadette.  "And his is the biggest, so I get all
three of the others on my team!"

   ==========================================

   There was some grousing, but not much.  While the spirit of competition
was there, the urge to be partnered with her chosen male was stronger.  In
the end, there were three teams.  Events had taken longer this time, and
Johnnie Sue said it was time to get out of the water and get dressed
immediately.  Her stress on the word "immediately" was not lost on them. 
Only Curtis Lee didn't know what she meant.

   The dressing was done relatively quickly, with some reluctance.  No one
mentioned that, of all the boys, only Moses wasn't stiff.

   They moved, as teams, upstream, to the same place they had been last
week.  There was no argument as the teams drifted apart, along the bank. 
It was obvious there were too many to fish together.  They didn't drift
far, certainly not out of easy voice contact, but as things turned out, the
teams were, for the most part, separated from the view of other teams. 
They could see each other's poles ...  but not each other.

   Chapter 22

   The fish were biting, and that probably saved the day, at least for
Bernadette and Hilda Mae.  Both were horny, and both were with a boy that
they were very curious about.  Had there been long stretches of idle time
to fill, both girls might have stepped over the line that was already
barely visible in the imaginary sand under their feet.

   Instead, they talked quietly.  Some of the talk was light, and of no
real account.  Some of it was more serious.  Those parts were remarkably
similar in some ways, and remarkably different in others.

   ====================================

   "You shouldn't have touched me like that," said Curtis Lee, taking a
fish off Bernadette's line for her.

   "Because you're a Negro?" she asked.

   "For starters," he said.

   "What if I like touching you?" she asked.

   "I have dreams about you, Bernadette," he said intensely.  "Bad dreams."

   "I'm so horrible I give you nightmares?" She sounded hurt.

   "You're teasing me," he said.  "You flirt with me in school."

   "That's not so bad," she said.

   "I'm not talking about the dreams.  I'm talking about what gives me the
dreams."

   "What are they like?" she asked.

   "I can't tell you that," he said stolidly.  "I just do bad things in
them ...  that's all."

   "You would never hurt me," she said, her voice full of confidence.

   "Of course not, but the things I do in the dreams could hurt us both."

   "Why?" she insisted.

   "Because you'd get pregnant!" he hissed, frustration overcoming his
reticent to tell her what his dreams were about.

   "Oh!" she said, startled.  She had dreams too, but they were only of
sucking his penis, and that wouldn't make her pregnant.

   "You can't tease me like that any more," he said.

   "But it's so much fun," she complained.

   "Fun for you ...  danger for me," he said softly.

   "I wouldn't hurt you ...  I like you," she said.

   "You're not allowed to like me.  Haven't you read Romeo and Juliet?"

   "No," she said.

   "Miss Flossie has it.  You need to read that," he said.

   ===================================

   "I can't believe you did that," said Moses, talking softly.  They were
standing side by side, shoulders touching.

   "It was fun," said Hilda Mae.

   "You know how much trouble you'd be in if anybody ever found out?" he
asked.  "How much trouble I'd be in too?"

   "Well, then, nobody can find out."

   "What if your brother found out?  He'd kill me!" said Moses urgently.

   "No he wouldn't.  I told him I kissed you."

   "WHAT?" he yelped.

   She elbowed him and shushed him.

   "I told him I made a promise.  We've been taught to keep our promises.
He understood that."

   "You're the strangest girl I ever met in my whole life," he sighed.  "I
never met a white girl like you."

   She looked at him.  "And I never kissed a Negro boy before that either."

   They were quiet for a while.

   "I liked it," she said.

   "You did?"

   "Yes.  I feel like kissing you again right now."

   Moses moved away from her fractionally.  He knew what happened the last
time she'd kissed him.  He'd had to beat off again before going home.

   She caught a fish, and like Curtis Lee, he took it off the hook for her.

   "Did you like it?" she asked.

   He didn't know whether she was asking about the kiss, or jerking him
off. In either case the answer was the same.

   "Yes," he admitted.

   "That makes me feel good," she said.  "It makes me want to kiss you even
more."

   "But we're not supposed to do that kind of thing," he said.  "It has
caused ...  people like me to be ...  hanged."

   She turned to face him.

   "I know that" she said intensely.  "But what that makes me think about
is the reason they did that.  I mean they did it because there were others
like us, you know?  Other women and other men?  Don't you see?  That means
it isn't so strange.  OTHER white girls have kissed OTHER Negro boys."

   "But they killed them for it!" moaned Moses.

   "Only when they found out," said Hilda Mae.

   Moses got a bite and hauled in a nice pan-sized fish.

   Her meaning was clear.  She was willing to face the danger, to do the
things they did.  Neither of them thought about how MUCH more serious the
consequences were for the male in such a situation.  Like thousands of
others, they banked on not getting caught.

   "Kissing you makes me want to ...  touch you." he said.

   "Like in the water?" she asked.

   "Yes ...  and maybe more ..." he hazarded.

   "I might like that too," she said.

   She did kiss him.  She kissed him a total of three times.  They were
long, lingering kisses, and his hands cupped and smoothed over her firm
round bottom.  On the second kiss, she reached for his hand, and brought it
to her bulging breast.  On the third, she felt for his penis, and squeezed
its stiff length.

   Things would have gotten completely out of hand, except that Johnnie Sue
called a halt to the contest.

   ========================================

   Johnnie Sue's team, of course, won the contest.  They had fifteen fish
between them.  Curtis Lee and Bernadette had seven.  Hilda Mae and Moses
had only four.  They took a lot of ribbing about falling so short this
time.

   "I guess your worm gave out on you this time," joked Johnnie Sue.

   "There's always next time," said Hilda Mae, her eyes flashing.

   =========================================

   The subject of the Mansion came up again while they were getting ready
to leave.  Bernadette still wanted to see the attic.  Eventually, they
agreed to meet at the mansion the next Saturday.  They would forgo the
skinny-dipping and catch some fish on the way back home, once they had
taken a quick look at the attic.  This decision was made by the girls, and
it had more to do with how they were all feeling at the moment, than it did
with any urgency to see the attic.

   For Johnnie Sue, the urge to ask Nathan if he'd let her jerk him off
made her nervous.  He was so much older ...  he might laugh at her.

   For both of his sisters, they recognized the almost uncontrollable urges
they had each felt as being ...  almost uncontrollable.  Both were quite
sure that, if they had been able to get the boys off alone, they would have
talked them into blow jobs.  They were quite aware of the dangers they
faced, crossing racial lines like this.  As for the play itself, they
sensed, in a non-specific kind of way, the danger that might lead to.  Both
of them had let Nathan push his thick finger inside them, and that felt so
good that it scared them.  Neither of them felt like they were anywhere
close to being ready to let anything else inside them.  That was what they
thought consciously.  But lurking under that, there was a troubling
yearning to feel something pushing inside them ...  something long ... 
longer than Nathan's finger ...  and maybe a little bigger around too.  As
much fun as it was to play, and to have those body-shaking orgasms, it was
the kind of fun that was hung with a faint feeling of unsettling danger.

   A trip to the mansion was also a way of cooling off, and the girls all
felt compelled, though they couldn't articulate why, to cool off.

   =========================================

   Flossie felt better the next week.  The flirting stopped.  It stopped
cold.  There were no little touches, and no lingering looks.  The kids
applied themselves to their lessons, and helped with the younger students.

   She only saw one time when Curtis Lee and Bernadette's heads were
together, momentarily, as he leaned over to say something too soft to hear,
and she shook her head.  Had she been able to hear what was said, her bells
would have jangled louder.

   "Are you mad at me?" Curtis Lee whispered softly.

   She shook her head.  "No, I'm just being careful ...  like you said."

   "You still want to fish with me?" he asked, hopelessly tangled in this
spider's web.

   "I still want to do lots of things with you," she whispered.  "Now,
leave me alone.  I have work to do."

   Flossie didn't see any particular relevance to Bernadette's request to
borrow Romeo and Juliet.  She was just delighted that the girl would show
an interest in classic literature.  She didn't think to ask how Bernadette
knew she had it.

   =====================================

   They gravitated towards the mansion in small groups, or singly.  Moses
met the Wilson children at a pre-arranged spot they knew how to find, and
led them to the house.  Johnnie Sue, Luthor and Jesse were already there.
They waited outside for half an hour before getting impatient for Curtis
Lee to put in an appearance.  They were arguing about whether to go in or
not when he arrived, panting from running.

   "I had to help my Mamma with some stuff," he said.

   Johnnie Sue grinned.

   "What?" he asked.

   "Your ...  Mamma?  A grown boy like you, and you still call her your
Mamma?"

   "She'll always be my mamma," he said.  "What do you call your mamma?"

   "Mamma," she said, smiling.

   She took them upstairs to the room, over which she thought the wall was.
They looked up at the ceiling, which was bare of plaster.  There were gaps
between the lath, but it was too dark to see anything through them.

   "Even if there is an attic, how would you get to it?" asked Luthor.

   "A hidden staircase!" gushed Bernadette.  She realized she was standing
beside Curtis Lee.  She hadn't done it intentionally.  She took a step to
the side.  "Behind the wall, maybe?"

   Jesse went out of the room, and next door.  He called back that the wall
wasn't thick enough to have a staircase in it.

   Finally, Johnnie Sue climbed Curtis Lee, like she had done last time,
and pulled at the lath until she could stick her head up inside.  She
climbed back down and dusted off her hands.  She stepped to the middle of
the room and looked up.

   "That wall is right up there," she said, pointing up.  "But it looks
exactly the same from this side as it did from the other side.  It's just a
wall."

   "No attic?" Bernadette sounded tragic.  She was about halfway through
Romeo and Juliet, and was feeling tragic a lot.

   "Nope," said Johnnie Sue.  "Just more rafters."

   "Why'd they put a wall up there?" asked Luthor.

   "Beats me." said Johnnie Sue.  "But there's nothing up there."

   ======================================

   The damper that was put on the great adventure, was lessened somewhat
when they went back downstairs and Jesse started poking around in the pile
of lumber that had, at one time, been one corner of the house.  He pulled
out several long boards and examined them.

   "I still think these would be good for a treehouse," he said.

   Jesse and Johnnie Sue joined their blood brother.  They examined the
wood and agreed it was sound enough to use for such a purpose.

   "How do you plan to get enough wood to wherever we'd build the thing?"
asked Nathan.

   "We could each carry some boards," said Jesse, his eyes shining now that
his project might actually see the light of day.  "It might take a few
trips, but the wood isn't that heavy."

   "What about nails?" asked Curtis Lee.

   "My Daddy has an old keg of them out in the barn.  They're rusty, and
it's only a quarter full, but I think they'd do," said Luthor.

   The others pitched in, taking the boards that were suitable, as they
were handed up, and stacking them near the door.  The other scraps and
broken boards were piled on the floor near the pit.  In the process of
moving boards, a whole door, in a partially crushed frame was uncovered. 
It had another of those crystal doorknobs on it.  Luthor had brought his
hatchet again, and hacked the knob loose.  The obverse was also granite,
but was pink this time, instead of blue.  It took both Nathan and Curtis
Lee to pull the doorframe and the sagging door out of the pile to see if
there was any lumber under it.

   That's when they found the steps.

   The door had fallen in on a landing of some kind, built of flat stones,
and there was an obvious step leading down from there.  Where it led, no
one could tell, because it was full of charred and broken lumber.

   "Basement?" said Luthor, peering at the landing.

   "Not that many basements around here," said Curtis Lee.  "They get water
in them."

   "It was probably a root cellar," said Johnnie Sue.

   "Why would they have a root cellar here?" asked Jesse.  "Mines is right
near the kitchen.  And it's outside too."

   "Beats me," said Johnnie Sue.  "Does seem odd."

   They were curious enough to haul burnt and charred boards out of the
hole, which uncovered two more steps, leading down.  They had to be
careful, because there were nails sticking out of many of the boards.

   "It's getting late," said Johnnie Sue, looking up through the branches
of the tree at the sun.  "If we're going to catch any fish we'd better get
going."

   Jesse and Luthor, being the smallest, carried the collection of fishing
poles, while the others paired up in teams to carry stacks of boards.  They
saw the flaw in their plan when they got to the edge of the woods.  They
would have to cross open farmland to get the boards where they wanted them.
None of them thought they could pull that off without being seen.  Even
Jesse agreed to that.  Just being together made a group large enough to
draw attention.  Reluctantly, they left the boards piled just inside the
woods, and then left in groups of two or three to walk across the fields,
back towards town.  It was two in the afternoon before they finally
gathered at the fishing hole.  They were placidly fishing, all together
now, since there was plenty of room along the bank, when Flossie peeked
into the clearing from between the bushes at the edge of the clearing.

   She had her pole with her, but she hadn't really come to fish.  The
sudden change in behavior at school had bothered her, and she came to see
what was going on.  She felt foolish when she saw the kids, Fully clothed,
alternately sitting or standing, their lines in the water.  They were
talking quietly, as fishermen do.  Since none of them had seen her, she
turned around and snuck back into the forest.

   ======================================

   "Good eatin'" sighed Harvey.  He had eaten three whole fish.  "Maybe
there's something to this fishing thing after all.  Any more corn bread,
Honey?"

   All three of his children looked at him strangely.  They'd never heard
him call their mother "honey" before.  Their mother seemed strangely happy
too ...  more relaxed.

   =======================================

   Over the next week, in the evenings, the blood brothers prepared a
surprise for their friends.  They went and, under cover of darkness,
ferried the abandoned boards to a cache upstream from the alternate fishing
spot.  The woods were dense there, and the banks of the creek steep, so it
wasn't likely that anyone would wander along there fishing and discover the
pile of boards.  They were young, and full of energy because of the thrill
of sneaking around in the dark.  It also gave Johnnie Sue a chance to jerk
off each boy each night.  She couldn't let them squirt on her, but there
were other compensations.

   "Johnnie Sue?" asked Jesse, the second night they had been out.  He was
still panting from the results of her lovingly stroking his penis.  She had
done Luthor first, this night, and was now laying back, her jeans hanging
off of one ankle, preparing to feel something nice and stiff up inside her.

   "Yeah?" she moaned, sliding two fingers deep.

   "You remember ...  in health class?  About the oral sex?"

   "Yeah," she said, digging.

   "Could I maybe ...  try that?" he asked shyly.

   "I like jerking you off," she huffed, "and getting it on my skin" she
panted, "but I don't know about in my mouth."

   "No!  That's not what I meant," he said.

   She stopped digging and lifted her head.  "You want to do that?  To me?"

   "That time Luthor tricked me?" he reminded her.  "And his finger was wet
from you and he got it on my lips?" She had forgotten that, but nodded,
seeing that he wanted her to remember.

   "You tasted good," he said.

   "Really?" There was plainly surprise in her voice.

   "Yeah," he said softly.  "Real good."

   She lay back.  "I guess it would be OK."

   Jesse got down on his hands and knees.  Even before he touched her, he
smelled her, and his mouth watered.  He knew about her button.  He had
rubbed it lots of times, even though he didn't rub it quite right and she
had to help.  Still, each time, he had surreptitiously licked his fingers,
tasting her again.  He already knew he'd love tasting her at the source.

   His first tentative taste was more because he didn't know quite where to
start, rather than because he wasn't sure he wanted to do this.  He'd never
been so close to her pussy before, now with his face anyway.  He stared at
the lips, gaping slightly from where her fingers had spread them, and
puffy. The little hole was wet looking.  He stuck his tongue out, formed it
into a spear, and shoved it as far into that hole as it would reach.  He
felt her bump on his upper lip, and slid his lips up to surround it and
suck it in.  Then, while sucking, he played with it with the tip of his
tongue.

   He thought he'd killed her when she was finally done flopping around on
the ground and went limp.  He raised his face to find Luthor, hovering over
them, his face plainly astonished.

   "She tastes good," panted Jesse, as Johnnie Sue lay relaxed and moaning
softly.

   The night after that, she was languidly stroking Jesse, playing with his
foreskin, when, without warning, she leaned forward and swallowed him
whole. It lasted only a few seconds, because his knees gave way and he fell
to the ground.  After making sure he was OK, Johnnie Sue told him to just
stay there, and went back to her new oral plaything.  She was amazed at how
he felt in her mouth.  She was intimately acquainted with the feel of it in
her hand, but this was so different that there was almost no comparison. 
She jerked her mouth off after his first spurt, scrunching up her face as
she tasted, while the rest of his spend went on the grass.  When she
realized the taste wasn't bad at all - just a hint of musky sweet, she
turned to Luthor, whose eyes were about to fall out of his head.

   "C'mere," she said huskily.

   She stayed on Luthor until he didn't have anything else to give her, and
then sat back, licking her lips.

   "You taste salty," she said.  "Jesse tastes sweet." She cocked her head.
"I wonder why that is?"

   Jesse was still lying on the ground, limply, a smile on his face. 
Luthor had stood up the whole time, his knees locked.  Now he sagged,
panting.  Johnnie Sue started unbuckling her belt.

   "Jesse says you taste good," panted Luthor.  "After what you just did
I'll do anything you want."

   She coached him, better prepared for the exquisite feelings this time.
After his first taste, he was an avid student, doing his best to make this
great for his blood brother.

   Thursday night she did Jesse first, in honor of him suggesting this
wonderful new game.  This time she sucked him dry.  Luthor only lasted
thirty seconds or so, because he had cheated and masturbated while he
watched Jesse almost fall down again.  Johnnie Sue got to have two orgasms
that night.

   As they lay there in the dark, Luthor asked "Which one of us does it
better, Johnnie Sue?"

   She couldn't decide.  "I don't know yet," she said, listlessly pulling
her zipper up.  She wanted to lie there for hours, but they had to go. 
"You're both going to have to do it a bunch more times before I'll be able
to tell."

   The next night, after both boys were finished, they had to help her up
afterwards.  Johnnie Sue told them both she loved them.

   She didn't know it, but Johnnie Sue dodged a bullet that week too.  Had
they done what they usually did, and had she shoved their sperm into her
pussy with her probing fingers, those millions of sperm would have found a
nice, fat, healthy egg, ready and waiting to be penetrated by the strongest
sperm cell, whoever it belonged to.

   But, because of the surprise they planned for their friends, those
millions of sperm cells were safely in her stomach, where they couldn't
make her a mommy.

   ========================================

   In school, Friday, various nods and comments were made about a surprise
waiting for the group.  Luthor had smuggled a bag of nails to the cache. 
Johnnie Sue was now the anxious one, eager to get on with building a place
where she could lie on a clean board floor, and guzzle her blood brothers
offerings.  The chiggers weren't all that bad this year, but she had little
red spots on her back and buttocks from lying back in the grass to let them
guzzle her offerings too.

   Nathan and his sisters had never told anyone else they were stopping at
Flossie's in the mornings on Saturday.  They weren't trying to keep it a
secret, at least not from the other kids.  But it never came up.  Now it
did, because Johnnie Sue wanted them to get to the fishing hole early in
the morning, instead of waiting until after lunch.

   "We can't get away that early," said Nathan.

   "Well try!" said the excited girl.  "This is important!"

   In fact, the painting was almost done.  The old boards soaked up a lot
of paint, and that had slowed things, but they were very nearly all covered
now.  Flossie was getting sick and tired of the extended smell, too, and
wanted it to be done.  The place was a lot brighter, though, and when
Bernadette and Hilda Mae sat, reading books, they no longer had to sit
directly under a lamp, like they had before.

   So, when Nathan asked her, privately, if he could miss the next morning,
she agreed, saying she could probably finish it up herself.  She felt a
pang in her chest, though.  She had gotten to look forward to the visits of
the Wilson children.  She got to talk to Nathan on a much more informal
basis, and the girls were usually so deep in books that even somewhat
intimate things could be discussed without worrying too much about being
overheard.  In the last two weeks they had discussed how Nathan felt about
leaving home, and going to the Police Academy, for example.  He was torn.
That was clear to see.  He wanted to go off on this huge adventure, but his
looks at his sisters told her how loathe he was to leave home and hearth
too.  It WAS a long way away from Catfish Hollow.

   "Maybe we could start the kitchen next week," she heard herself say.

   He looked surprised.

   "Oh," she said, covering her unintended comment.  "The living room looks
so good I thought about doing something in the kitchen too, that's all."

   Nathan enjoyed their painting sessions too.  He got to be close to her,
and the intimacy of their discussions was something he didn't have with
anyone else.

   "Sure!" he said.  "I could do that."

   Chapter 23

   Everyone was at the fishing hole by nine-thirty the next day.  They were
surprised to find Johnnie Sue, Jesse and Luthor already waiting for them,
fully clothed.  When the first arrivals suggested waiting for the others in
the water, they were told there would be no skinny-dipping this day.  At
least not until later.  Nathan and his sisters were the last to arrive. 
Telling them all to leave their fishing poles there, Johnnie Sue then
instructed them to follow her.  They did, curiously, asking aloud where
they were going.  She wouldn't answer.  Luthor and Jesse were obviously in
on the deal, because they were grinning like the Cheshire Cat in the book
Miss Flossie had been reading to them lately.

   Johnnie Sue stopped at the pile of boards and turned around.

   "Tah Dah!" she said, holding out her arms.

   "Look at that!" said Curtis Lee.  "How did THAT get here?"

   "We SNUCK it here!" squealed Johnnie Sue.  Then she started into a long
narrative about how they stole through the night, dodging dogs, and the
constable and the whole Ku Klux Klan.  Luthor finally wrapped one arm
around her waist from behind, and put his other hand over her mouth.  She
struggled, and the hand around her waist came up to cover a breast.  She
stopped struggling, her eyes wide.

   "Oops," said Luthor, grinning at the others.  "I slipped." His hand slid
off her breast, very slowly, still pressing hard.  "We three snuck the
boards here at night.  A few each night.  It was a surprise, so we could
build a treehouse."

   ========================================

   The first order of business was to select a suitable tree.  The plans,
rough as they were, and only verbal anyway, called for a floor large enough
for them all to sit around in a circle.  That was pretty big.  It would
take a big tree, preferably with large branches, or trunks, to support a
floor that big.  They fanned out.  Two good candidates were found.  They
picked the one closest to their favorite fishing hole on the creek.  They
had to carry the wood about five hundred yards, but there were plenty of
them, and it all got moved in one trip.  Each of the blood brothers had
brought a hammer, and Luthor had brought a saw with him on this date.  He
had to take it back home that day.  He didn't have permission to take it,
and he had to sneak it back into the shed without his father seeing him
returning it.

   They had four boards that were roughly five inches by three inches, and
eight feet long.  They had been inside the exterior wall of the mansion
when it fell in.  Three were used to form a triangle, each corner of which
was anchored to a tree limb.  The last one was used as a support for the
middle.  Planks were then laid across the triangle.  Luthor was going to
saw the ends even with the edge of the triangle, once they were nailed
down, but most of them didn't stick over far, and they were left.  No one
would want to step there, outside the triangle, but things like picnic
baskets or whatever could be set down there.  They had cut up two planks to
make the steps, nailed about a foot apart, going up the trunk of the tree.
When they had used the last plank, they were about four or five short.

   Johnnie Sue, Luthor and Jesse said they'd have to make a few more
nighttime runs.  Actually, they were all pretty pleased that they'd have an
excuse to get together again in the dark.  Nathan ruined it for them
though.

   "No, you went to all that work.  If Luthor and I go over there today -
just the two of us - and we bring back six or seven planks, we can finish.
Nobody will think a thing about two white boys carrying some lumber.  And
if he can use your bike, Bernie, we can get there quicker."

   It sounded like a good plan, and it was added to.  While they were gone,
the others would fish.  If enough fish were caught by the time Nathan and
Luthor got back, then there might even be time for skinny-dipping.

   ==========================================

   Nathan surveyed the pile of burned and broken lumber at the base of the
tree in the corner of the house.  Most of the good planks had already been
culled.  They were going to have to move a lot of splintered and charred
wood to find more good planks.  Nobody had said anything about a roof for
the tree house, but Nathan thought it would be a good idea.  He wasn't sure
how they'd engineer that, but while they were at it, they'd pile up as many
good boards as they could find.  They could always come back for them
later.

   They hit a good vein after moving eighty or ninety pieces of junk.  They
were able to pull out ten boards and piled them by the door.  There were
more, but they were still nailed together and they couldn't get them loose.
There was what looked like a long beam sticking up out of the pile, and
Luthor said that could be cut up to make better steps for the tree trunk.
To get that out they had to move a bunch more broken pieces of wood from
around the stone steps they had discovered earlier.  They were doing that
when they found the hole.

   They thought it was a hole, because when they saw it, and reached
inside, they couldn't feel anything.  It was framed by pieces of wood,
nailed to and being held up by another beam.  It took both of them, but
they were able to break the boards off enough to realize that what they
were looking at was the space that the stone steps must have led to.

   "It's got to be the a cellar," said Luthor, sniffing at the musty odor
in the hole.

   Curious now, they cleared away more wood from the steps.  Eventually
they had an opening almost large enough to crawl into.  Neither did,
though, because that beam was all that was holding up a large quantity of
wood over the opening they had created.  They peered into the blackness,
but blackness was all they could see.

   "I wish we had a lantern," said Nathan.

   But they didn't, and it was getting late.  They chose eight of the best
planks, and the beam they had freed.  Nathan got the idea of tying them
together and tying one end of them to his luggage carrier, with the other
end tied together and sitting on top of Bernadette's handlebars.  That way
they could push the bikes, which would carry the load.  They were able to
move at a very quick walk, and got back much quicker than if they had just
walked.  Then they went to find the others.

   Perhaps, because they hadn't swum first, the catch had been good.  There
were plenty of fish, so that each one could take home a few to show that
they had, in fact, been fishing.  It was about three or so, by the sun, and
the next decision was whether to return to the tree house, or go swimming.
Swimming won, hands down.

   They were tired, and there was almost no horseplay.  They soaked in the
water, shoulder to shoulder in a circle.

   "How come we never catch any Catfish?" asked Nathan.  "I figured with a
name like Catfish Hollow that we'd catch lots of them."

   "We're not fishing for Catfish," said Luthor, as if that was obvious. 
When he saw the confusion on Nathan's face he explained that Catfish stayed
close to the bottom, and not the top couple of feet where the kids had been
hanging their worms.

   "Most people use different bait to catch Catfish too," said Jesse.  "It
stinks something awful."

   "Actually," said Curtis Lee, "old Mister Hopkins, before he died?  He
told me that the town was named that because of all the spooning they did
along Foster's creek upstream.  It used to be a lot bigger, almost a river,
he said, before they started diverting it for irrigation."

   "Spooning?" asked Bernadette.

   "Yeah," said Curtis Lee.  "You see, Catfish like to just lay there with
their mouth open and let things swim in.  Then they close their mouth and
swallow, or whatever.  What they'd do is find a hollow in the bank, under
the water, and back in there and open their mouth.  Mister Hopkins said
some of them never moved for years, just letting the river feed them."

   "What does that have to do with spoons?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "That's the part I didn't get to yet," chided Curtis Lee gently.  "I
don't know why they call it spooning, but what you do is wade along, in the
water, feeling along the bank, until you find one of those hollows.  If
it's got a Catfish in it, you stick your hand in its mouth, and grab hold
of a gill, and just pull him out."

   "In his MOUTH?!" gasped Bernadette.  "How in the world could you get
your whole hand in a fish's mouth?"

   "Well, the way I understand it is that if they just lie in there for
years," said Curtis Lee, "they get real big, because they never move and
eat all the time.  I'm talking two, three feet long.  You can feed two or
three families on a fish like that."

   "Curtis Lee Waggoner, there is no WAY in the world there is a three foot
long Catfish in this creek," scoffed Johnnie Sue.

   "I'm just telling you what Mister Hopkins told me before he died.  He
said some of those fish was big enough that they would clamp down on a
man's arm and swim off with him.  He said people drowned spooning, because
they got hold of a fish that was too big." Curtis Lee looked at the
astonished faces around him.  "I'm not joking!  He told me he spooned one
himself that weighed ninety pounds!"

   "I'd be happy with a ten pound Catfish," said Luthor.  "You think the
fish still do that these days?"

   "I don't know," admitted Curtis Lee.  "I kind of got the impression that
there had to be a lot of water flowing for that to happen, and the creek
moves kind of slow now.  I guess it could happen, but the fish wouldn't get
as big, maybe?"

   "Lets go find out!" said Jesse, visions of thirty pound Catfish
sparkling in his eyes.

   "What if we find one that's too big?" worried Hilda Mae.

   "We'll go looking in pairs," said Luthor, caught up in the idea.  "One
can feel for hollows, and the other can hold on to him." He got excited. 
"And we can work opposite sides of the creek, so there's even more who
could help if somebody gets swum away with."

   "I don't know about this," said Nathan doubtfully.

   "I wouldn't worry about it too much," said Curtis Lee.  "The creek has
been like this for as long as I can remember.  I don't think any really big
fish could survive.  There's not enough water."

   Two of the teams, not surprisingly, ended up being Bernadette, with
Curtis Lee and Hilda Mae with Moses.  Johnnie Sue elected to go with Jesse,
because, she said, he was so small and light that even a small fish could
swim away with him.  Luthor looked at Nathan.

   "We're a pretty good team," he said.  "Why don't we float, and if
anybody feels a really big fish we can run to help them."

   That sounded fine to Nathan.  That gave them four teams, one for each
side of the creek, and two to explore upstream, and two to explore
downstream.  They agreed to come back in half an hour if nothing had been
found.

   Within two minutes they were all back together, in response to Jesse's
frenzied screams that he was being swum away with.  He was screaming that
he had his hand in a fish's mouth, and it wouldn't let him go.  Johnnie Sue
was pulling at him frantically, but she couldn't budge him either.  Curtis
Lee shoved her to one side, and ran his hand down Jesse's arm.

   "Relax!" he said.  Jesse slumped and Curtis Lee moved his hand.  Jesse's
hand shot out of the water and he stared at it, expecting to see shredded
flesh and dripping blood.  There was neither.

   "You had it caught between two roots," said Curtis Lee, trying to hide a
grin.  Jesse covered his face with both hands, in shame.  Johnnie Sue told
him it was OK, and that anybody could have made that mistake, and pulled
him on up the creek.

   ===========================================

   Hilda Mae held Moses' hand, under water, as they half walked and half
floated back downstream to their assigned area.

   "I'm not to hot on the idea of sticking my hand in a fish's mouth," she
said.

   "Me neither," said Moses.

   "I'd rather do something else, instead," said Hilda Mae softly.

   "Like what?" asked Moses, falling into her trap.

   "Like this," she said, pressing her naked body against his in the water.
Her lips pressed themselves to his.  He hands went around him, and slid up
and down his back.

   =======================================

   Across the creek, and down about thirty yards, Curtis Lee was bent over,
running his fingertips along the muddy bank as he and Bernadette let the
current carry them slowly along.  Bernadette's hands were on his hips, her
thumbs almost, but not quite on his buttocks.  She had said this was
necessary since she might have to jerk him away from a monster fish.

   "I don't feel anything," he said for perhaps the sixth or seventh time.

   One of her hands left his hip, and he gasped as he felt it go between
his legs.  A hand fumbled for and then grasped his penis, pulling it gently
down and back, between his legs.

   "I think I got one!" said Bernadette softly.  "It's a big one too! 
Ohhhh I hope it doesn't swim away with me." She giggled.

   Curtis Lee couldn't do much about it.  She was pulling steadily between
his legs, and her other hand was now on his lower back, pushing.  Had he
been in deeper water, he could have rolled forward.  Then again, that might
not have been a good idea.

   "Bernadette, let go of me," he said.

   "Oh!  Is that you, Curtis Lee?  I thought maybe it was some kind of
water snake." She giggled.

   "You know very well what that is," he said, looking over his shoulder.
"You're teasing me again."

   Reluctantly, she let go.  He turned, and his eyes widened as he looked
up the creek.  She turned to see her sister and Moses Finshaw, clasped
together, kissing.

   "You are the strangest girls I ever met in my entire life," moaned
Curtis Lee.

   "I don't feel strange," said Bernadette, thinking about kissing Curtis
Lee like Hilda Mae was kissing Moses.

   "First I see you with your own brother, and now both of you are messing
around with colored boys," he said.  "Don't you do anything normal?"

   She turned him in the water, moving closer to him, her hands on his
strong shoulders.

   "I'm a girl.  Girls like boys.  You're a boy.  I think I'm acting
perfectly normal."

   "But this is crazy," he whined.

   "My little sister is over there getting kissed by a boy she obviously
likes," said Bernadette.  "That's not crazy.  What's crazy is that I'm
probably going to have to beg the boy I like to see what it's like to be
kissed like that.  THAT's crazy."

   "But you already kissed me ...  back in Miz Hopkins library ...  don't
you ..."

   He was cut off by her lips pressing against his.  This time it was no
quick, sterile peck on the lips.  This time, like Hilda Mae, she kissed
Curtis Lee like she kissed Nathan, with loose lips, and probing tongue. 
The electric shock that tore through Curtis Lee's body made him shake and
jerk.  Her hands slid down his arms, and then went inside them and around
his waist.  She pulled, and her body pressed firmly against his.  Her hands
dropped to his muscled buttocks and rested there as the kiss went on ... 
and on.

   =========================================

   Hilda Mae was on cloud nine.  Her body, made slippery by the water,
rubbed against Moses.  His penis was rock hard, and it was currently
sticking between her thighs.  If she let herself sink a little, it pressed
against her pussy lips.  As she pushed her tongue around in Moses panting
mouth, she moved her hips gently, sliding them back and forth perhaps an
inch.

   Moses knew, beyond any doubt now, that this girl liked what was
happening.  Her hands on his buttocks, and the delightful feeling of warm
flesh clamped around his penis was very quickly bringing him to the point
where she would have more little white flecks to play with.  It felt so
good, though, that he wanted it to go on and on.  He pushed her away, to
give himself time to calm down just a little.

   "What's wrong?" she panted.

   "Something's about to happen," he panted back.

   "You're going to squirt?" she asked, leaning forward to kiss him, not so
long this time.

   "Yeah," he said.  "But I don't want to yet."

   She reached for him under water, and he sighed as she gripped his shaft.

   "There's my favorite worm," she said, grinning.  "I wish I could see
it."

   She looked over her shoulder, to see where Bernadette was, and gasped as
she saw her sister draped all around Curtis Lee.  They were kissing
passionately.  She looked back at Moses, and saw a tiny area of long grass
on the bank behind him.

   "Get up there," she whispered, pointing.

   He had to climb, and then help her up.  They both got muddy, but neither
cared.  She lay him back on the grass, crushing it down with is body, and
got on her hands and knees, her face over his penis.  She just looked at it
for a few seconds.  Then her hand went to skin the foreskin back.  It was
so black it looked strange.  But it felt like a penis, warm, and hard, yet
soft.

   "Don't be afraid," she said, looking up at his face.  He was resting on
his elbows, his head up, watching her.  "I'm going to do something to make
us both feel good."

   She grasped his shaft in her hand, baring the tip.  She kissed that tip,
her lips loose and warm as they flowed partly around it.  He hissed and
tensed.  She lifted her head and looked in his eyes.

   "I want to do this.  Don't be afraid."

   She kissed it again, three or four times, alternating kisses on the tip,
and then sides of the tip.  Then, sighing, she opened her mouth and pushed
until her nose pressed against his kinky black hairs.

   Moses' elbows gave way, and he flopped onto the grass.  His knees came
up and he felt pain in his balls.  He lifted his head to confirm what his
senses told him, that he was inside her mouth.  Once that was confirmed, he
flopped back down on the grass, his hands flinging out, and surrendered to
the incredible feelings she was causing down there.  Her head started a
quick short jerking motion, up and down, only an inch, and he felt like the
top of his head was going to pop right off.  She started making high
pitched mewling sounds that were strange because they were coming through
her nose.  She shook all over, like a dog getting out of a pond, and then,
very slowly, her lips began to slide up his shaft to the tip.

   She pulled off with a slurping sound, and smiled at him.  "You made me
feel really good, Moses.  You can spurt now."

   Then she sucked on the tip of his prick, and her hand slid up and down
his shaft.  Thirty seconds later, as the sweet release hit him, he heard
her swallowing repeatedly.  She kept sucking as he tensed, wanting to curl
up into a ball, and then flopped back to the grass limply, his eyes closed.

   He felt cool air on his prick, and opened his eyes to see her standing
over him.

   "Thank you, Moses," she said softly.  "We'd better get back in the water
before my sister notices we're missing.  She'll think a fish swam off with
us." She smiled.

   ===========================================

   Bernadette was in trouble.  While she kissed Curtis Lee, her hand was
stroking his manhood.  He wasn't stopping her this time, and he was as hard
as stone.  She felt the urge.  She wanted to taste him, but she was afraid
that it would frighten him, or disgust him, or break the mood.  Still, she
was almost vibrating with need.

   Letting go, she lifted her legs, and wrapped them around his waist,
trying to press her pussy against his flat stomach.  That didn't work.

   Their kiss broke, and she stared into his eyes.

   "Curtis Lee ...  I need ..." she panted.

   "What do you need?" he asked.  He kissed her again, a short kiss, but
full of passion.

   "I need you to do to me what Nathan does," panted the girl.

   "With my mouth?" he asked.

   She nodded, her eyes searching his.

   "Do you do that for him too?" he asked.

   Her eyes told him the answer before she nodded.

   "Could you do that ...  for me?" he asked.

   "I WANT to do that for you," she gasped.  She kissed him hard, her mouth
moving.

   "What about your sister?" he asked.

   "She's probably doing the same thing to Moses," she panted.

   He pulled her further downstream, and around a bend.  There was a muddy
sandbar, and he laid down on it, his long prick sticking up proudly.  She
stood over his head and squatted, her knees spread, displaying her sex to
him wantonly.  She leaned forward then, getting into position, and took him
into her mouth, sucking lovingly.  Then she lowered her pussy to his lips,
and began to rub her pussy all over his face.

   ===========================================

   No one found any catfish, lurking in holes in the bank that day.  When
they all got back together, Jesse wanted to go back to the treehouse.

   "We're all wet," said Hilda Mae.  "We can't get dressed yet."

   "So?" said Johnnie Sue.  "We'll just carry our clothes and dry off on
the way."

   They looked odd, a line of teenagers, carrying clothing and fishing
poles and strings of fish, as they walked quietly through the woods,
wearing only shoes.  Somehow, once they arrived at their new place, they
didn't get dressed.  Instead they climbed.  It was interesting that, behind
each girl, stretching her feet up from one step to another, which put her
pussy on clear display, there was a boy, looking up as he climbed.  And,
behind each boy who climbed, there was a girl, staring up at the balls and
penis of the boy ahead of her.  When they sat down in a circle, the boards
creaking under them, all the boys had stiff pricks.

   Being naked together like this seemed different somehow, without the
water to shield them.  There was an interesting mixture of the excitement
of a member of the opposite sex being able to see you, and a feeling of
embarrassment at being seen.

   "Well," said Johnnie Sue, looking around at the boys' laps.  "I can see
one problem already." The others looked at her and she grinned.  "Last time
we had this problem, the boys went into the woods and released some sexual
tension.  If we're all up here they can't do that."

   "We could just close our eyes," said Hilda Mae, joking.

   "There's lots of tree up above us," said Bernadette.  "They could all
climb a different branch." She giggled.

   "They'd probably get all excited and fall out of the tree," laughed
Johnnie Sue.  She was so giddy that she misspoke.  "Jesse practically falls
down every time he ...." Her eyes got wide and she clapped a hand over her
mouth.

   "And how would you know that?" asked Nathan, leaning forward with a
stern look on his face.  He knew exactly how she knew that, but he hadn't
told anybody.

   Johnnie Sue sat there, her hand still clapped over her mouth, staring
wide-eyed at Nathan.

   "You've seen him?" It was Curtis Lee who spoke.  That wasn't so odd,
really.  Bernadette and Hilda Mae, after what they had done with Nathan,
and now with Moses and Curtis Lee, didn't find it that odd that a girl
might have seen a boy masturbate.  If they'd have had time to think about
it, they might have acted surprised, but they weren't.  Jesse, Luthor and
Moses, of course, also knew Johnnie Sue was well acquainted with what a
masturbating boy looked like, so they weren't surprised either.

   "Sort of," she said weakly.

   "Sort of," repeated Curtis Lee.

   "Well, we all know boys do it," said Johnnie Sue, flustered.  She was
thinking frantically, trying to find a way out of this mess.  She
remembered Jesse's howl in the woods that day.  "And that time when we sent
the boys into the woods he was all yelling because he squirted for the
first time."

   Her eyes went wide again.  This time she clapped both hands over her
mouth and then closed her eyes tightly.

   "It appears," said Curtis Lee, looking at Bernadette, "that some of us
are much closer friends than we might have thought."

   Bernadette, who didn't feel guilty at all about what she had done,
either with her brother OR Curtis Lee, looked back at him with innocent
eyes.

   "Why in the world are you looking at me?" she asked sweetly.

   Curtis Lee had the feeling he had been taken for a ride.  Nobody but him
seemed to be amazed that Johnnie Sue had an intimate knowledge of Jesse's
masturbation practices.

   "We're all friends here ..." he said carefully.  "Right?"

   There were nods all around.

   "Think about that for a minute," he said.  "Would any of our parents
approve of what we are doing right this minute?"

   There were shakes of heads all around.

   "And even if we WEREN'T all naked, would they approve?"

   More universal shakes of heads.

   "Then since we are friends, and since we trust each other so much,
shouldn't we be honest with each other?"

   This time the nods were a little less enthusiastic.

   "How many girls here have seen a boy masturbate?" he asked.

   The three girls went round-eyed, and looked at each other.

   "Come on ..." said Curtis Lee smoothly.  "We're all friends here.  How
many girls have seen a boy jerking off?"

   At first there were only twitches of hands.  Then, almost in unison, as
they darted glances at each other, each girl slowly raised her hand.

   "And how many boys here have seen a girl masturbate?" he pressed on. 
"Tell the truth, now!"

   His seniority in the group had its effect.  All the boys raised their
hands.

   "Does anybody here notice that I'm the only one with my hand down?"
asked Curtis Lee.  "Why is that?"

   He was under the misapprehension that all of the raised hands had done
all of those things together, in one big group.  He felt like he had been
ambushed.

   "That's not fair, Curtis Lee," said Bernadette, looking hurt.  "It's not
like you've never done anything."

   "You want me to tell them what ...  I've done?" he asked, looking at her
intently.

   She turned beet red.

   "What's he talking about?" asked Nathan, sensing some undercurrent here.

   Bernadette was sensing something of her own.  She was sensing that her
brother might be very angry with her for sucking on Curtis Lee's stiff
prick and drinking down his sperm.  She had loved doing that, playing with
that long, hard, brown thing.  It exceeded her hopes when she finally got
her hands on it.  Never again would she confuse her brother's thick white
penis with Curtis Lees long slim one in her mind.  She thought the best way
to head off his anger was to put him in a situation where he wouldn't have
a leg to stand on.

   "How many girls here have had oral sex done to them?" she blurted.

   Again, the girls searched each other's eyes.  In an almost identical
repetition, three hands slowly went up into the air, floating above three
bent elbows.  There was a look of intense relief in all three girls eyes as
they saw the others' hands.

   It made Bernadette feel so much better to see Johnnie Sue's hand in the
air that she went the next step.

   "Leave your hand up if you've done oral sex to a boy."

   As soon as she saw that Johnnie Sue's hand stayed up, she went on.

   "And all the boys who have had oral sex done to them ...  put your hands
up!"

   Curtis Lee was flabbergasted.  He slumped, his hands on his knees.  "ALL
of you?" he croaked.  "Everybody here?"

   Bernadette reached over, grabbed his hand and pulled it up into the air.

   "All of US," she said steadily.

   "You didn't!" said Nathan in a hushed voice, staring at his sister.

   "I got really, really horny," she said softly.  "And I like Curtis Lee."

   He looked at Hilda Mae, who was sitting up straight, her hand still in
the air.

   "I got really horny too," she said simply.

   "Who'd you have oral sex with?" asked Johnnie Sue suddenly.  They all
looked at her.  She was looking at Nathan.  "You sure didn't have it with
me."

   Nathan's jaw sagged and a look of pure panic came over his face.

   Oddly enough, it was Curtis Lee who came to his aid.  When he had seen
Nathan find out what his sister had done to him, and there had been no
outraged attempt to kill him, some barrier in his mind had finally come
down.  He had never really trusted a white person before.  He had never
really believed that any white person would treat him with genuine
courtesy, and certainly not respect.  Nathan's overtures to him in the past
had been welcomed, in an amazing kind of way, but now he actually believed
that Nathan would, in a given circumstance, react with his mind, instead of
some built in racist attitude.

   "We're all friends, here, Nathan.  You can tell them ...  if you want
to. But if you don't ...  it's really not our business."

   Nathan sat there, but the feeling of being trapped slowly evaporated.

   "I'd really rather not say," he said, his mouth dry.  He kept himself
from looking at his sisters.  He looked at Johnnie Sue instead.  "OK?"

   Johnnie Sue had been watching him closely.  She had her suspicions, but
when he didn't look at either of his sisters, and she thought about how
that now that everything was more or less out in the open, and nothing
seemed to be falling apart, she relaxed.

   "OK," she agreed.  She saw both Bernadette and Hilda Mae slump, and hid
a grin.  "Well, that solves one problem." She looked around at the curious
looks on the faces of the others, wondering what she was referring to.  "I
guess they don't have to go off into the woods to take care of things any
more."

   That broke the tension.  They weren't quite ready to engage in an orgy
of masturbation together, but the group had grown a lot closer in the last
few moments.  Chatter started up again almost immediately, as they found
things to talk about that were off that subject, and less threatening.

   Curtis Lee looked over at Bernadette, who was looking at him.

   "You're either very brave, or very stupid," he said softly.

   "Nope," she said, just as softly.  "I'm just very horny."

   One offshoot of the incident was that Bernadette suggested it might be a
good idea to build other platforms in the big tree, further up in the
branches, that would provide a place for one ...  or two people ...  to
seek a little privacy.  She suggested that a platform like that might be a
good place to read, perhaps.

   Chapter 24

   "How could you do that with him?" asked Nathan anxiously, as they were
on the way home.  They were pushing their bikes, in no real hurry.

   "How could I do it with you?" Bernadette came back.

   She had a point.  Was one really any worse than the other?  Still, he
felt a loss, somehow.

   "Does that mean you won't ...  with me any more?" he asked.

   She put her kickstand down and turned, right in the road to kiss him,
grinding her pussy into his loins.  When she was done, she stood back, a
smoky look in her eyes.

   "I love you, Nathan," she said, breathing deeply.  "I'll never stop
doing that with you."

   "What about me?" asked Hilda Mae, some impatience in her voice.

   "You did it too, didn't you?" asked Nathan.  "To Moses."

   She, like her sister kissed him and humped him lustily.

   "I love you too," she said.  "I'll always love you." She smiled at him.
"I could love you right now if you want."

   That part of Nathan that is in every man ...  that part that says
"You're MINE!" growled inside him.  He looked at her lips, lips that, by
her own non-verbal admission, had recently sucked at a black boy's cock. 
She was his sister, and no matter how much he wanted to ...

   Did he really want to do that?  he asked himself.  His eyes roved to her
breasts.  He did!  He felt it in his gut.  He would lay with his own sister
if she allowed it.  Both of them!  That was too much.  He pulled back,
feeling guilt again.  He didn't want either Moses or Curtis Lee to do that
with them either.  He closed his eyes but that didn't help.  He saw white
legs, wrapped around black hips, as those hips rose and fell between those
legs.

   "Maybe later," he mumbled.  "I don't feel too good right now."

   Bernadette grabbed him and he opened his eyes.  "I DO love you, Nathan.
I like Curtis Lee ...  maybe even a lot, but he could never take your place
in my heart."

   "That's the problem," said Nathan, agonized.  "You're my sister, and I
shouldn't feel like I do about you.  I can never marry you."

   "Marry me?" she said.  "Why on earth would you want to marry me?"

   "If I did what I WANT to do I'd HAVE to marry you!" he said, his
frustration boiling over.  He stopped.  "NOW do you understand?" he moaned.

   She did.  She understood very well.  She had contemplated what that
might be like, not only with Nathan, but with Curtis Lee as well.  She had
clamped down on those thoughts, true, but she'd had them.  She knew what it
felt like to yearn to feel something thick and solid pushing into where
only her fingers had been.  She just hadn't believed that Nathan would ever
think of doing that too.  Hilda mae stood by, nervously.  Her emotions and
thoughts were remarkably like those of her sister's.  She'd thought about
having full sex, but was easily satisfied if she could tickle that spot
deep in her throat with a prick.

   "Oh," said Bernadette.  "We can't do that."

   "No!  We can't!" he moaned.  "But that's how I feel about you.  And I
feel the same way about Hilda Mae!  Is it any wonder I'm a little jealous
of him?  Of both of them?  And that doesn't even take into account that
they're colored.  What if THEY fall in love with you like I have?  What if
THEY want to do the things married people do?  Do you have ANY idea how
dangerous that would be for ALL of us?"

   Bernadette's own frustration bubbled up.

   "Of COURSE I know it!  Do you think I don't know what Daddy would do if
he even found out I'd held Curtis Lee's HAND?" Tears began to run down her
face.  "But I LIKE him.  I can't help that.  And I know Hildy likes Moses
to.  She wouldn't do anything with him if she didn't!" She was so unhappy
she sat down in the road.  "I don't know WHAT TO DO!" she wailed.

   They were completely at a loss, too young and too inexperienced in the
hard lessons of life to know where to turn.  Eventually they all moped on
toward home.  Hilda Mae was carrying the stringer and the fish were
dragging through the dirt as she plodded along.  She had been nothing but
happy with the way things were going.  She liked Moses, and he liked her.
She loved doing things with Nathan too.  Everything was perfect.  Sure, she
had to be careful, but kids get used to being careful while sneaking
around. They never think they'll get caught.  Now, the serious nature of
the conversation sank into her bones like cold water thrown on a body
baking in the sun.

   Her reaction, as they passed Flossie's, wasn't as strange as it sounded.

   "Hey!" she said, stopping.  "Let's ask Miss Flossie what we should do."

   Neither of the other two took it seriously, of course.  To confess
everything to their teacher would be insane.  She was an adult.  She would
do something terrible.  Adults always did.  Their negative attitude about
it sank Hilda Mae back into the depths of despair.  She looked over her
shoulder twice, as they walked on by Flossie's house, the hope she had felt
slowly dying.  They were right.  Why had she thought Miss Flossie would be
able to help?

   =====================================

   They were savvy enough to put up a good front when they got home.  They
hadn't cleaned their fish yet, and Marian gave Nathan one of her good
knives to do the work, telling him to do it out in the back yard, and to
bury the guts, heads and tails.  She was in a pensive mood.  Harvey had
been very rough with her this day, and she'd have to be careful to cover
the bruises he'd left behind.  He had been particularly savage with her
breasts, biting them, almost drawing blood.  She had loved it then, but
they were sore now and she worried.  If he got much more violent than that,
he could really hurt her.

   ======================================

   The mood in school the next week was strange, at least from Flossie's
point of view.  Most of them were perky and happy.  She saw things between
Johnnie Sue and some of the boys that looked remarkably like flirting, but
now she did it with all of them, Nathan included.  It was probably a phase.
Flossie remembered those difficult days, when hormones raged through her
body and she felt urges to do the most outrageous things.  She remembered
being either gloriously happy, or miserable, with very little in between.

   The Wilson children, though, were morose.  Something must have happened
at home ...  something very negative.  Bernadette, usually bright and
cheerful, was practically non-communicative.  Hilda Mae simply looked
mournful.  Nathan seemed to be tightly wound ...  on pins and needles.

   During recess she stepped beside Nathan and spoke to him without looking
at him.

   "So, are you ready to paint some more?"

   "I guess so," he said.

   "You don't have to, you know," she said, assuming he had lost the desire
to paint.  "I can do it myself."

   He looked at her, frowning.  "No, it's not that.  I want to help.  I've
just got things on my mind."

   "OK," she said.  She stepped away to break up a tussle between Leon and
Otis.

   ==========================================

   At supper that night, Nathan said: "I was down at the store and a lady
asked me if I'd help her paint her kitchen.  She offered me five dollars."

   Bernadette and Hilda Mae stared at him.

   "Who was it, dear?" asked his mother.

   "I don't know," he said, shrugging.  "She lives over that way." he
pointed vaguely with his fork.  "It's a white house with green shutters,"
he lied.

   Harvey looked at him, but didn't say anything.  There was a sneer on his
face, though.  He didn't have to say anything.

   "Well, I suppose five dollars is five dollars," said his mother.  "You
won't ruin any good clothes, I hope."

   "I'll be careful," said Nathan.  "I told her I could help out in the
evenings for a bit each night."

   After supper Bernadette and Hilda Mae came to his room, where he was
lying on the bed reading.

   "What was that all about?" asked Bernadette.

   "I'm tired of sneaking around," he said.  "Now I can go help Miss
Flossie whenever I want, and they won't ask questions."

   "Oh," said Bernadette.

   They left.  It still didn't feel right to initiate anything, and
besides, their parents were still up and awake.  He didn't ask them to stay
either.  Controlling his urges seemed to require that he control ALL his
urges, and not just the ones that were so dangerous.

   =====================================

   He went to Flossie's that night.  She was surprised to see him, but
opened the door wide.  She was still wearing the dress she had worn to
school that day.  Nathan could smell something good in the air and he
looked to see her supper on the table.

   "I'm sorry," he said.  "I didn't mean to interrupt your supper.  I can
come back another time."

   "Nonsense," she said.  "I was just sitting there feeling sorry for
myself because I didn't have anybody to talk to.  Come on in.  Won't your
parents miss you?"

   "I told them a woman hired me to paint," he said.  "I didn't tell them
who.  Actually I told them I don't know her name."

   "You really shouldn't lie to your parents, Nathan," she scolded.

   "I assume you have a middle name," he said blithely.  "I don't know it,
so I wasn't lying completely." He smiled.  "Oh, and now we have to paint
the outside white, with green shutters." She looked confused and he
explained that part.

   "I don't have any shutters," she said, laughing.

   "I'll make you some," he said, smiling.

   "It's good to see you smile again.  This last week in school I thought
you were going to waste away from sadness." She looked at him expectantly.
The relationship they now had, at least here in this house, was such that
he couldn't miss the invitation to talk about whatever was bothering him.

   "I can't talk about it," his face closed down.  "You wouldn't
understand."

   "Why don't you let me be the judge of that," she suggested gently.

   "No, you don't understand.  If I told you, you'd hate me forever, and I
don't think I could take that right now." He said it with the kind of
feeling that convinced her he believed that.  She couldn't imagine what
could be bothering him that she'd hate him for.  She felt a stab of worry.
Two of her other students in the past had been recruited for the Klan.  It
happened right after they graduated, and both of them had come to her to
ask her what they should do.  Could the same thing have happened to Nathan?
Had he accepted already?

   "Even if you joined the Klan I wouldn't hate you," she said carefully,
watching his face.  Nothing happened, except he looked faintly surprised,
and she felt much better.  She took a another stab.

   "You haven't gone and gotten some girl in the family way, have you?"

   The reaction to that was more visible, though not the look of pain and
anguish a young man would have if he knew he was going to get married very
soon, not having planned that.  Still, the way he jerked and looked away
suggested she was getting warmer.

   "No, it's not that," he said.  "Not really.  I TOLD you I can't talk
about it.  Are we going to paint or what?"

   If she chased him out with her questions, it wouldn't do either of them
any good, so she subsided.

   "I'll just go and get changed, and then we can start." she said.

   She went into her room and closed the door.

   Nathan looked around for the paint, but didn't see it.  The brushes she
kept wrapped in oil cloth when they weren't being used weren't visible
anywhere either.  He stepped toward her door, meaning to speak through it
and ask her where they were.

   The door was old, and didn't fit the frame well.  He stood by the door
and yelled: "Miss Flossie, where's the paint?" She didn't answer
immediately, and for no particular reason, he reached out to touch the door
as he drew breath to yell louder.  That light touch on the door was enough
to defeat the tired old latch, which was stuck in the 'in' position anyway,
and the door swung open two feet.  Flossie was standing there, facing him,
having walked toward the door to answer him.  She was naked, and held the
shirt she intended to wear in her left hand.

   It surprised them both.  In the split second before she reacted, and
pulled the shirt to her chest, Nathan saw what he had only dreamed of.  She
was shaped like an hour glass, with a narrow waist and broad, almost manly
shoulders, above swelling hips.  Her breasts, without the bra she usually
wore, were large and heavy looking, though they sagged only enough to make
a line of something like shadow under them.  Her areolas were coal black,
and the fat nipples that sat on them were the same color, making her skin
look chocolatey brown.  Thick, black pubic hair enhanced that effect, as
did the hair on her head.  Nathan noticed those black spots, including her
eyes, and when she opened her mouth, the pink of it, and the white of her
teeth made him think of some kind of chocolate desert, with cream and
strawberries.

   For Flossie, the unpreparedness claimed her ability to think.  Her eyes
went to his face, an automatic response to see where he was looking.  Like
most women, she saw his eyes looking at the parts of her that men usually
look at.  His eyes moved swiftly, wildly, and the look on his face was of
pure surprise.  She realized in that instant that he hadn't done this on
purpose, and was just as surprised as she was.  In that split second she
was aware of two distinctly different minds inside her head.  The modest
Flossie wanted to scream at him for looking at her like that.  To rail that
he was invading her privacy.  That was the 'Proper Flossie'.

   But there was another Flossie inside, the one who had dreamed of this
boy.

   One of those dreams had put them in a grassy meadow.  She was on her
knees, and he was standing in front of her, leaned over backwards as she
stroked his erection.  When she had waked from that dream, she had
recognized instantly that she had dreamed of Johnnie Sue and what she had
seen Johnnie Sue doing.  She had replaced Johnnie Sue with herself, and
Jesse with Nathan.

   That Flossie wanted to yell "YES!  Look at me like THAT!"

   That was the 'Wanton Flossie', she had told herself.  The tart ...  the
slut ...  the one who must be controlled.

   Proper Flossie moved her arm to drape the shirt across her breasts. 
Wanton Flossie kept it from covering both breasts, and instructed the hand
to hold the shirt so that it hung above her pussy.  Nathan's mouth opened
and closed, and he suddenly let out a whoosh of air that signaled he had
been holding his breath, and could no longer.

   Proper Flossie, deciding that nothing could be done about what had
already happened, said "It's outside by the tree.  I couldn't stand the
smell." She immediately felt foolish for explaining why she had put it by
the tree, and wondered what had driven her to extend her statement more
than absolutely necessary.  Wanton Flossie noted the feeling in her loins
as he continued to stare at her, though, and giggled inside, explaining
that.  Wanton Flossie wanted him to stay there ...  and look.

   "OH!" he gasped.  His hands went to the front of his pants and covered
him there, as if he thought he were in danger.  "I'M SO SORRY!" he almost
stuttered.  His hands flashed to his eyes, to cover them, and then back to
his pants, to cover the erection he had just drawn attention to.

   "DON'T you leave," she heard herself say.  "I'll be out in a minute."
She didn't know which of her selves said that, or why, at least not
initially.  Proper Flossie got control of her other arm, which moved, and
gently pushed the door closed in a dignified manner.  She held it there,
and sagged against it, feeling weak in her knees.  His face had showed
surprise, and shock, but it had also shown something else.  Wanton Flossie
had seen appreciation in his eyes ...  male appreciation.  Wanton Flossie
didn't care that those eyes were in a white boy's head.  A man lusted after
her, and that made Wanton Flossie feel good.  She wondered if she was going
insane, thinking as two different selves, listening to her two different
selves.  "You're lonely!" said wanton Flossie.  "Why do you think I told
him to stay here?  You want him to run away like a little boy and never
come back?"

   She shook her head.  She looked down at what Nathan had looked at.  Her
nipples were painfully erect, and she wanted to squeeze them.  Proper
Flossie screamed in outrage and just plain Flossie put her shirt on
convulsively, to cover those nipples.  Frantic now that he might run away,
she found her father's old cotton pants and pulled them on, tying the rope
she used to keep them on her hips hastily.  As soon as they were buttoned
she opened the door and stepped out.  She realized she was barefoot.  He
wasn't in the room, and the front door was standing open a foot.  Had he
run away?  It would break her heart if he was so embarrassed that he
wouldn't speak to her again ...  avoided her ...  wouldn't come to school.

   She felt weak again as he came back in the door, the paint can hanging
from his hand.  His free hand went to his crotch again.

   "I'm really sorry," he pleaded.  He pushed the door closed behind him.

   "It's all right, Nathan," she said, her voice carefully controlled.  "It
was an accident.  I know that old door won't stay closed.  I should have
put something against it." She felt almost incapacitated by her
nervousness. "I hope you won't think badly of me for that."

   "No!" he yipped.  "I ..."

   He was suddenly and loudly interrupted as the door banged open so hard
that one hinge popped, and the nails that had held it loosely to the
doorframe shot out and sailed across the room.  The opening was filled with
a dark form.

   It was Harvey Wilson.

   =========================================

   Harvey had seen Bernadette and Hilda Mae go to Nathan's room after
supper.  They had been whispering to each other and it had just looked ...
wrong somehow.

   Then his son had left, to go off and act like trash again, doing manual
labor for hire.  The girls had sat down in chairs with books, but didn't
read.  Instead they whispered more and giggled.

   Something was going on.  He could smell it in the air.  On impulse, he
stood up.

   "Goin' for a walk," he said to Marian.

   "What?" she was plainly surprised.  Harvey never walked anywhere he
didn't absolutely have to.

   "I said I'm going for a WALK!" he thundered.  "Is EVERYBODY in this
house going to question what I do?"

   He looked at the girls.  They looked terrified, huddling in their
chairs. Good.  There needed to be more respect in this house for the lord
and master.

   He stepped out and saw Nathan's back, a block and a half down the
street. He wasn't going in the direction he had so vaguely pointed at
supper.  Harvey followed.

   When he realized where the boy was going, rage threatened to tear him
apart.  He felt the vein in his head throbbing.  He knew whose property
that was.  He had tried to acquire it too, so he could evict her from there
too.  If the town fathers were too stupid or lazy to realize what a
travesty that school was, he would handle things in other ways.  She
couldn't teach in the town if she couldn't live there.

   But the title to the property was hopelessly tangled.  It would take
years to puzzle out.  And she paid the taxes, so the county didn't care.

   He was enraged because his son had lied to him.  He was enraged because
of who his son was seeking out.  He was enraged because he was stuck in
this one-horse dump and it didn't look like he'd get back into the good
graces of the home office any time soon.  Harvey Wilson was a study in
rage, and what it will do to a man.

   He wasted time looking for a weapon.  Anything would do, but he
preferred a cudgel or something he could swing.  He found nothing, and his
rage told him all he'd need was his hands.  He saw Nathan come back out of
the house, and walk to a tree.  The boy's hand was at his crotch, and he
looked back over his shoulder, almost fearfully.  Then he picked up a paint
can, and, after shifting from one foot to the other, went back in.

   In that instant all Harvey could think of was that his son had hired on
to work for a nigger.

   ===================================

   "I KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP!" roared Harvey.  He stalked forward toward
Flossie.  Nathan, frozen with shock, stood off to one side, the paint can
hanging from his hand.

   Flossie recognized the rage in the man.  Conditioning she had thought
long overcome made her quail, and that made her mad.  "GET OUT OF MY
HOU..."

   She was screaming the last word when Harvey's right fist came up and hit
her a solid blow on her left cheek, right at the corner of her lip.  Her
lip split and squirted blood.  Only because she had seen it coming and
leaned away from the blow saved her jaw from being broken, or teeth from
being snapped.  Her head flipped to the side and she went down on her back.
The room dimmed as her rattled brain fought to remain conscious.

   "YOU HIRED ON TO DO WORK FOR A NIGGER!" screamed Harvey.  "MY BOY ... 
WORKING FOR A FUCKING NIGGER!" He looked down at the woman lying on the
floor, limp.  her shirt had flipped up and smooth brown skin was showing
above the rope that held her baggy pants on.  She didn't even own a fucking
belt.

   "YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, BOY?" he screamed.  "NIGGERS DON'T HIRE WHITE
MEN UNLESS THEY WANT SOMETHING FROM THEM!" He looked at the smooth brown
skin and licked his lips.  His voice fell, and took on a more normal tone.

   "That means she's a whore, boy, she didn't call you here to paint.  She
called you here to soil you, to get back at ME!"

   He reached for his own belt, and unbuckled it.

   "I'm gonna teach her a lesson," he said, the leer on his face seeping
into his voice.  "I'm gonna teach YOU a lesson too, boy.  I'm gonna teach
you how to give a whore what she wants."

   He reached down and, with both hands, ripped Flossie's shirt apart,
baring her naked breasts.  In her haste to cover them, she had forgotten
the bra.  She hadn't tied the knot in the rope well either, tying it in a
bow by instinct, rather than the square knot she would have used if she had
been thinking more clearly.  Harvey's fingers plucked at it and then he
grabbed one side of the waistband and jerked with all his strength. 
Buttons popped and flew, and the bottom of the fly gave way.  The leg
ripped clear to the knee, exposing her pussy.

   "No bra," he panted.  "And no panties neither!" His face lit up with
glee.  "I KNEW she was a whore!"

   ======================================

   Nathan couldn't believe what was happening.  The shock of seeing his
father appear in an explosion of dust and noise had frozen him.  He had
been conditioned by his father too.  The last time, when he'd struck the
man, he'd been in his own rage ...  had worked up to doing something he'd
never have thought to do otherwise.  That rage wasn't in him now.  Now he
knew why his father was so irate.  He WAS working for a colored woman.  He
HAD lied to his parents.  All Nathan's sins came back to haunt him in those
first few critical seconds, and kept him frozen.

   Then, seeing his father hit her with all his strength, and seeing her
flop to the floor as if she were dead, convinced him she WAS dead.  That
shock made his mind wail and try to find a place to hide.  He couldn't
think, and he couldn't react.

   The horror went on, as the precious vision of what he had seen was
marred by the violent re-creation of that vision.  The violence of it was
beyond his capacity to deal with.  He felt like his mind had left his body,
and was floating just above his head.  He couldn't feel anything ... 
couldn't move ...  couldn't make a sound.

   "Git over here, boy," growled his father, looking down at those soft
looking round breasts.  They looked so firm that they wouldn't give much
when he bit them.  He'd have to be careful.  He didn't want to get any
nigger blood in his mouth.  "I'm going to show you how to fuck this nigger
whore."

   =======================================

   Flossie heard the words coming from far, far away.  All she could see
was stars, and she blinked several times.  Her mind was screaming at her
about the words.  She had to pay attention to the words.  She swallowed,
her mouth tasting coppery.  When she had fallen, she lay in an awkward
position, and her tendons were complaining.  She felt a burst of pain
around her waist, and she was jerked.

   The voice ...  she had to pay attention to the voice, her mind
whispered.

   She tried to concentrate, and she heard the words clearly: "Git over
here, boy, I'm going to show you how to fuck this nigger whore."

   Panic saturated her brain and it gave a primal scream inside her skull.
All that came from her throat, though, was a low groan.  She tried to move,
and her hand flopped at her side.  She tried to make her neck muscles work.

   =======================================

   "Good," said Harvey, unzipping his pants.  "She's coming around.  I want
her to feel this."

   He turned his head and leered at his son, whose face was still white
with shock.

   "And when I'm done, you're going to fuck her too.  That's what she
brought you here for, and you're going to fuck this whore like a MAN!"

   Triumph lit up his face, and he looked back at the woman.  Her face
rolled towards him, and her eyes looked into his.

   "Don't you go back to sleep, now," he said, almost softly while leaning
down.  His hands gripped her breasts and he squeezed hard.  The pain caused
her lung muscles to draw in breath in a hiss.  "I want you to remember this
for the rest of your miserable life."

   He slapped her face hard enough to cause it to roll and strike the
floor. He stood, dropped his pants, and knelt between her thighs, kneeing
them wider.  The remains of her father's pants restricted the movement of
her legs, and Harvey reached to rip them further.  He stood up on his knees
to push his boxer shorts down, exposing his rampant erection.  Then he
leaned over and bit her left breast, his upper teeth above the areola, and
his lower teeth below it.

   Then she was able to scream.  She screamed long, and loud.

   ========================================

   It was the combination of Flossie's groan, the movement of her hand, and
then her head, that pushed through the terror in Nathan's mind and shouted
"SHE'S ALIVE!" It was the combination of all his father's words, the look
in his eye as he told Nathan what he'd be required to do, and the way he
casually and cruelly squeezed her breasts, that gave him control over his
body again.  And it was the sight of his fathers erect penis, hanging over
Flossie's defenseless pussy that brought on the almost instantaneous rage
that exploded in Nathan's head.  It was her scream as his father bit her
breast that made him move.

   He wasn't aware that he took three steps forward, or that his hand,
holding the paint can swung as far back as he could reach without turning
his body.  He was intimately aware of realizing that he could stop this if
he brought that hand forward.

   He swung the can.

   Chapter 25

   The paint can in Nathan's hand was half full of Sherwin Williams
eggshell white, mixed with a number three oil base.  It weighed, at that
moment in time, about five and a quarter pounds.  It was swung by an arm
that was virtually overflowing with adrenaline, a substance Nathan had been
tested on in school, and knew the qualities of well, though he wasn't
thinking about that at that moment.  The can struck Harvey Wilson's head
exactly two inches above his right eye, vertically speaking, and one inch
to the right of that eye, horizontally speaking, where the forehead changes
from front to side.  Had the bottom rim of the can struck him there, it
would have crushed his skull like the eggshells the paint was named after.

   Fortunately, depending, of course on your point of view, what struck
Harvey's head was the side of the can, which was about three thirty-seconds
of an inch thick, and quite flexible, under these conditions.  Figuring the
exact foot pounds of pressure that was applied to Harvey's head is beyond
the math skills of this writer.  The can bent, and it gets all complicated.
Let's just estimate it was a whole bunch of foot pounds.

   For sure, it caused Harvey's skull to move, while his brain tried to
stay perfectly still.  They call that a 'coup injury' in the medical field,
where the moving skull bruises the brain.  Harvey then fell sideways at a
rapid pace, aided by all those foot-pounds, whereupon his skull struck the
dirt floor and stopped.  By then, his brain was moving pretty rapidly, and
tried to keep on moving.  It slapped up against his skull, which didn't
give, and bruised on that side too.  They call that a 'contra-coup injury',
just in case you're wondering.

   Harvey Wilson, with two bruises on rougly opposite sides of his brain,
became instantly and thoroughly unconscious.  He would remain that way for
two or three hours, depending on what outside forces intervened.

   ========================================

   Nathan didn't care, at the moment, whether his father was alive or dead.
The paint can had burst open upon impact, and as the side of the can
compressed on Harvey's skull, the paint that was displaced shot out of the
opening.  Nathan was covered with paint.

   He was aware of that on a shallow level, primarily because he had to
wipe his eyes clear to see.  His primary concern was for Flossie, though.
He dropped the can, swiped his eyes clear, and knelt, hovering over her. 
She was splattered with paint too, and was sobbing and hugging herself.

   Great heartrending sobs poured out of her in an unending stream.  She
didn't react in any way, shape, or form as Nathan pulled her up and cradled
her in his arms.  He was shushing her, using all the words and tones Annie
had used on him when he cried, but nothing helped.  He kept asking if she
was all right.  His father had hit her hard, and he was afraid something
was broken inside her.  He didn't want to leave her on the floor, and let
go of her to pick her up.  She had paint all over her, now, some of it from
contact with him.  Everywhere he had touched her, she was white with smears
of paint.  It was in her hair, on her face, all over her naked torso.  Only
what was left of her pants was free of paint, and when he carried her, that
got painted too.

   He started to lay her on the bed, and saw the beautiful quilt.  He knew
he'd ruin it.  He tried to get her to help him, to pull at the quilt, but
she only sobbed and lay limp in is arms.  He finally put her in an old
overstuffed chair, back in the living room.  He didn't have anything to
cover her, and his hands were a mess.  He went back into her room, looking
on the shelves, and saw a sheet folded up.  He took that and wrapped it
around her.

   He was calming down a little now, and finally he checked his father.  He
was breathing.  He couldn't leave his father here.  If he woke up, he'd
kill Flossie for sure.  But Nathan knew he couldn't carry his father's bulk
the six blocks back home.  He remembered an old wheelbarrow, with a metal
spoked wheel.  It was around the side of the house, by the fish cleaning
station.  It had a flat bed on it, with an upright wall at the front. 
Running to get it, he parked it outside her door and dragged his father
outside by his heels.  When Harvey's head bumped over the threshold, Nathan
didn't care.

   It took all his strength to get his father's bulk up onto the
wheelbarrow, lying on his back with his head between the handles and his
lower legs hanging over the upright in the front.  His arms flopped loosely
beside the wheelbarrow.  Nathan ran back inside.  Flossie's sobs were
softer now, and she was hiccuping.  Now she looked up at him, her eyes
bright with tears.  The whole left side of her face was swollen where
Harvey had slapped her, and that eye wouldn't open completely.  The
stretching of her face as she bawled had reopened the lip, which was
bleeding freely again.

   "D-d-d-d-don't g-g-g-go," she stuttered, rocking in the chair.

   "I have to go get help," he whispered.  "I'll come back, but I have to
go get help."

   Her sobs of terror as he left wrenched at his heart, and he almost
turned back.  But getting his father away from there was more important. 
And help.  He had to find someone to help.

   =======================================

   It wasn't full dark yet.  Nathan, straining to lift the wheelbarrow,
half ran, until he was exhausted.  The adrenaline had fled, leaving him
feeling like he hadn't slept in a week.  He was still two blocks from home
when he had to set the wheelbarrow down to rest, dragging in agonized
gasps. He wanted to sit down, but knew that if he did he wouldn't be able
to get back up.  He picked up the handles and staggered on.  When he got to
his front door he left his father there and crashed inside.

   Marian had the television on, though she wasn't watching it.  She was
watching the front door, waiting for whatever Harvey was doing to be over
so she could find out what was wrong.  The girls had gotten up and looked
out the window when he left.  There was some whispering, and Bernadette's
shouting whisper of "NO!" Marian had questioned them, but they didn't seem
to know what was going on either.  They finally sat back down, books in
hand, but they didn't do much reading.  When a large, strange and wild
looking person with paint all over him suddenly burst in through the door,
Marian screamed.  Then the apparition spoke with Nathan's voice as the
shaggy white-spattered face turned toward her daughters.

   "Get down to Miss Flossie's NOW!  She's hurt and she needs help!"

   The girls shot out of their chairs, and without a how-do-you-do they
dashed for the front door.

   "WAIT!" called Marian.  "WHAT'S GOING ON!?"

   The ghostly person with Nathan's voice turned to her.  "Daddy attacked
Miss Flossie.  He beat her.  Then he tore her clothes off and said he was
going to fuck her, and that I had to fuck her too."

   He delivered the devastating information as if he were telling her that
a neighbor had bought a new car and, while driving it home, had bumped into
a fire plug.  His voice, other than the panting, was steady and almost
normal.

   "Nathan Patrick Wilson!  What kind of nonsense are you spouting!?" said
his mother, standing up.  "Where is your father?"

   "Out front.  I brought him home.  I think he's alive.  He was breathing
when I left Miss Flossie's.  I hit him with a can of paint while he was
raping Miss Flossie." Again, it was delivered like it was no big deal ...
just information she might be interested in having.

   "Rape?" The word stuck in Marina's throat.  "Did you say rape?"

   "Yes Ma'am, except that I'm not sure he actually raped her.  He was
trying to when I hit him."

   "Where is he, Nathan?" Marian's voice was steady and calm now.  She had
kicked into competent Southern Wife mode.  She might fall apart later, but
right now she could deal with any contingency.

   "I brought him home on her wheelbarrow," said Nathan.  "I'll show you."

   He hadn't re-dressed his father.  Harvey's pants were down around his
calves, and his boxers were still keeping his knees more or less together.
His penis wasn't stiff any more.  His head lolled to one side, almost
falling off the floor of the wheelbarrow.  His chest was rising and
falling.

   Marian looked at him, and then at Nathan.  "Help me get him inside. 
Then we'll have a little talk about what happened."

   "I have to go back," said Nathan stubbornly.  "He hurt her bad, Mamma.
She might need a doctor."

   "Help me get him out of the public view, and I'll go back down there
with you," said his mother.

   She muttered about the paint all over everything, and Nathan explained
about hitting him to knock him off Miss Flossie.  She pulled the whole
sordid story out of him, bit by bit, making him tell her everything he
could remember about what Harvey did and said.  He was like a recording
machine.  Marian could hear her husband's voice in Nathan's as he repeated
all the horrible things he claimed were said.  Once they had manhandled
Harvey into bed, she examined his head, feeling for soft spots, and pulling
his lips back to examine his teeth.  He was out cold, but he didn't seem to
have any serious external injuries.  She'd have to call the doctor if he
didn't wake up soon.

   She stood up.  Nathan was dancing in his impatience to leave and go back
to that woman's house.  Marian, feeling dread deep in her bones, told him
to take her there.

   She left her husband lying, still half dressed, on top of the bed.

   =============================================

   Flossie was still sitting in the chair, still wrapped in the sheet when
they got there.  She was moaning and rocking as Bernadette and Hilda Mae
hovered over her.

   "She won't say anything!" said Hilda Mae, relief flooding her face when
she saw her mother.

   Marian looked around.  She was horrified by the conditions this woman
lived in.  Her eyes went to Flossie's blank stare and swollen face.  Her
jaw, where he had fisted her, was swollen three inches.  That whole side of
her face bulged as if something were trying to get out from under the skin.

   "Make some coffee!" she snapped to her daughters.  "Or tea if you can
find it."

   The girls darted to the kitchen and Bernadette opened a simple board,
hung on hinges, that covered a cubby hole.  She reached for a box and
pulled it down.  Hilda Sue, meanwhile had gone to the stove and gotten a
battered teapot and was putting water in it.  Both girls obviously were
familiar with this place.  Marian noted that, but filed it in the back of
her mind for later evaluation.

   "There's no fire in the stove," said Hilda Mae, lifting an iron plate
with a wire-wrapped handle on it and looking inside.

   "Use the gas stove!" said Marian as she stepped toward the moaning
woman.

   "She doesn't have one," said Hilda Mae, looking helpless.

   Nathan moved to the kitchen and, with practiced movements, got kindling
and some small branches from a box and built a fire in the fire box of the
stove.  It smoked a little until he fiddled with the damper and got the
draft going.  Marian filed that little bit of information away too.  She
had no idea her son knew how to fire up an old stove like that.

   "Does she have an ice box?" asked Marian, getting down on her knees in
front of Flossie.

   When they answered that she did, she asked for ice cubes, wrapped in a
towel.  She heard them pulling the handle of the ice cube trays and the
cracking of the cubes as the metal grid they were in moved.  Bernadette
brought her a bundle of ice in a dish towel.

   "I'm going to need a clean rag soaked in hot water too," she said to
Bernadette.  "Bring it to me as soon as it's almost too hot to touch."

   She began to talk to the woman.

   "Flossie?  Is it Flossie?  You're going to be all right now, dear.  No
one will hurt you again.  Flossie?  I need you to talk to me sweetheart."
She cooed and laid her hands on the arms of the chair.  She didn't touch
the woman yet, but she put her face right in front of her.  She kept
talking softly, saying Flossie's name, but getting no response.  One of the
girls handed her a steaming rag.  It was dripping, and Marian almost
snarled.  She took a breath and wrung the rag out.  "Bring me a cup of that
hot water before you make tea," she said, not looking up.

   Very gently she applied the hot rag to the bleeding lip, barely touching
it.  The cup appeared and she told whoever had it to hold it there.  She
dipped the tip of the rag in the water and swabbed the lip carefully.  The
woman winced, and her eyes cleared, losing the blank stare.  They went to
Marian's face and she flinched.

   "It's all right Flossie," she cooed.  "No one will hurt you any more.  I
need you to tell me where it hurts, baby."

   "Hurts," said Flossie thickly.  She had bit the inside of her cheek when
he slapped her, and it was swollen.

   "Yes, dear, tell me where it hurts."

   "Face hurts," came the soft voice.

   Marian laid down the rag and picked up the ice.  She tenderly arranged
it against the swollen flesh on Flossie's face and asked her if she could
hold it there.  One shaking hand came up and Marian helped her press it
against her face.

   "Where else does it hurt?" asked Marian.  "How are your arms and legs?"

   "S'Ok" slurred Flossie.  Her other hand moved under the sheet and she
winced.

   Marian pulled the sheet off and almost vomited.  The teethmarks on the
breast were vivid, each individual tooth having almost torn the skin.  They
were far apart, and Marian knew from experience that he had closed his
teeth as close together as he could, and had then moved his lower jaw back
and forth.  When done lightly, it was exquisitely painful.  This had not
been done lightly.  This must have almost driven the poor woman mad.  Her
eyes took in the torn shirt, and the pants, half ripped from her body.

   "We'll get you cleaned up and get some fresh clothes on you soon." said
Marian, her voice calm.  "Do you have any liniment, or balm?"

   Flossie tried to look over her shoulder, and winced as strained muscles
in her neck complained.  She looked up and saw Hilda Mae standing beside
them.

   "In thu bwoo jahr on da bookshef" she mumbled.  Hilda Mae apparently
understood her clearly, because she went to a shelf covered with books and
pulled down a beautiful stone jar, with a lid on it.  She pulled the lid
off and sniffed, wrinkling her nose.  She brought the jar to her mother. 
Marian sniffed and nodded.  Annie had used something like this, some local
mixture of things that worked wonders.  She dipped her fingers into it and
pulled the sheet back again to apply it to the bite marks.  Hilda Mae
hissed.

   Marian looked up and saw horror on her daughter's face.  "Don't
embarrass her by looking, dear.  Where's that tea?" Hilda Mae fairly ran to
the kitchen.

   More of the balm went on Flossie's neck muscles as Marian smoothed her
hand gently along the skin there.  She had Flossie lift the bag of ice long
enough to spread the balm all over the swollen flesh there too.  The smell
was strong, so Marian knew it was good stuff.  Flossie sighed and relaxed a
bit.  She slowly stopped rocking too.  Hilda Mae appeared with a cup that
was steaming.

   "Do you want sugar in your tea, dear?" asked Marian.  Flossie's eyes
stared, and she nodded fractionally.  She licked her lips and winced. 
Hilda Mae disappeared with the tea.  Marian dipped one finger into the balm
and held it just over the split lip.  "This is going to sting," she said.
Flossie nodded and Marian pressed the stuff in the open cut.  Other than
tightening her jaw, Flossie showed no reaction.

   Hilda Mae came back with the tea and Flossie took put the ice down and
took the cup in both hands.  They were trembling, and Marian reached
forward to help stop them.  The woman sipped, and then sipped again.  She
sipped a third time and Marian could see her swish the liquid around in her
mouth.  She swallowed and her voice was clearer.

   "Thank you," she whispered.

   Marian just smiled.

   Flossie lifted the cup, and saw the paint smeared on her hands.  She
looked confused.  She held up an arm and saw it was also smeared with
paint.

   "My son made rather a mess, I'm afraid," said Marian.

   "Nathan!" said Flossie, sitting upright.  The tea almost spilled and
Marian took it from her.

   "He's over there fiddling with the fire," said Marian.  "Do you want me
to send him away?  Does he frighten you?"

   "No!" said Flossie.  "He ...  I think he ...  your husband was ..." She
closed her eyes.

   "Yes," said Marian heavily.  "There is nothing I can say or do that will
ever make up for what my husband did tonight.  I believe Nathan helped
you."

   "Yes!" said Flossie.  "He helped me!" Tears began to leak from her eyes.

   Marian wanted to get the woman to bed.  If she could sleep, that would
help with the shock more than anything else she could think of.  But she
wouldn't get up.  Finally Marian called Nathan.  She looked at the crying
woman.

   "I'm going to have Nathan carry you to your bed.  Is that all right?"

   Flossie nodded.  Nathan picked her up gently, sheet and all and her arms
went around his neck.  Flossie started sobbing again.  In the bedroom,
Marian pulled back the quilt and told Nathan to lay the woman down.  She
had to pry Flossie's arms from around his neck, and she started crying
harder when he stepped back.

   "You want Nathan to stay?" asked Marian.  Flossie nodded her head. 
Nathan stood there uncertainly.  "Get me something for her to wear while
she sleeps," said his mother.  Nathan went to the shelves that went along
the wall and lifted things until he found what looked like a nightgown to
him.  He took it to his mother, who told him to turn around.  Then she
called Bernadette in and had Bernadette help her get the ruined clothes off
of Flossie, and the nightgown on.  Bernadette choked back a sob as she saw
the bite mark on the breast.

   "Who DID this to her Mamma?" cried the girl.

   Marian jerked.  The girls hadn't heard the story.  They had no idea who
had attacked Flossie.  The wheelbarrow, with their comatose father on it
had been to one side of the walk, and they might not have seen it in the
dark as they rushed by on their way out.

   "Go help Hilda Mae," said Marian, trying just to get the girl out of the
room.  Bernadette backed out of the room, her eyes wild and full of fear.

   Marian looked at Nathan, who was still facing away, his shoulders tight.
She told him he could turn around again, but warned him to be quiet with
one quick finger to her lips.  She would deal with that later.  Right now
she wanted this woman asleep.  She couldn't do anything about the paint. 
The hair would have to be cut away.  It would grow back.  They made things
that the hardware store would have that would take the paint off her skin.
That was of no consequence.  This woman wasn't going anywhere for a day or
two, at least.  She'd be in too much pain.  That brought to mind pain
medication and she asked Flossie if she had anything.  There was a shake of
her head, but that was all.

   Marian had to make a decision.  Flossie was acting groggy.  There could
be broken bones under the swelling.  Harvey was in enough trouble already.
If the woman died ...

   She called out to her daughters and told them to run to Miz Hopkins'
house and find out where the doctor lived.  They were to go get him, and
bring him here, telling him only that a woman had been beaten and might
have broken bones.  If he balked, they were to find some way of convincing
him to come without making a scene.

   Marian spent the next twenty minutes wiping inefectually at the paint on
Flossie's arms, trying more to just touch her gently than actually do
anything.  She knew how soiled she felt when Harvey was rough with her, and
that was when she had welcomed that kind of attention.  For this woman, it
must have been horror beyond reason.

   She was surprised when the girls were back within twenty minutes.  Hilda
Mae rushed into the room, a short, fat man with her, who wore a straw hat
and had a black bag in his hand.  He stepped into the room and looked
around in dismay.  He saw Marian sitting next to Flossie.  It was clear who
the patient was.

   "She's a Ni-gruh!" he said blinking.  He looked at Hilda Mae.  "You
didn't tell me she was a Ni-gruh." He looked around.  "Bo Tomkins takes
care of the colored folk 'round here.  You should have gotten him."

   "She's hurt and she needs care," said Marian standing up.

   "But she's colored!" said the man.

   "She's been bleeding red!" snapped Marian.  "Her bruises are starting to
turn blue, just like mine would!  Just see if anything is broken.  Give her
something for the pain.  No one will ever know.  She's groggy and I'm
afraid she might even die!"

   Hilda Mae and Bernadette gasped, and broke into tears.

   The doctor looked around again.  He saw Nathan, covered with paint, and
looked at the patient again.  She had paint smeared all over her.

   "Did he do this?" he asked, pointing to Nathan.

   Marian blanched.  "Of COURSE not!  He drove the man off of her!"

   Nathan stepped closer.  "He hit her with his fist and knocked her three
feet.  I hit him with a can of paint."

   The doctor looked around again.  "Where's he?"

   "Gone," said Marian.  "Just see if anything's broken, and give her
something for pain.  That's all.  Just that much ...  please?"

   The doctor sighed and went to the chair Marian had been sitting in.  He
sat down and pulled the quilt down.  Flossie looked at him with a glitter
in her eyes, but didn't say anything.  He touched her face, gently at
first, and then probing harder until she winced.  He ordered her to open
and close her mouth while he felt the hinge of her jaw.  He wiped his
finger through the balm on her cut lip, sniffed at it, and then wiped his
finger on his pants.

   "Nothing broken," he said.  "What you've put on the cut is as good as
anything I've got."

   Instead of stopping, though, he went on.  He examined her arms and
hands, and, without saying a word, pulled her gown apart to look at her
torso.  He saw the balm in a circle around her breast and wiped it off.  He
stopped, frozen for a few seconds, when he saw the bite marks.  He touched
them, and Flossie winced.  He went on, and found the abrasion where her
skin was inflamed around her waist.

   "She'll need some of that salve along here." He pointed to the white
flaky line.  "And more where I wiped it off there," He pointed to the bite
mark and then looked at Marian.  "Who did this to her?" His eyes were
serious.

   "Don't know," said Flossie suddenly.  She looked at the doctor and he
saw her eyes go to the two young girls who were standing nearby.  "I went
out to get some wood for the stove.  It was dark.  This boy here happened
along and heard me scream."

   Marian frowned.  "Flossie, I don't think ..."

   "It was dark," said Flossie.

   The doctor looked at her.  He nodded once, and then bent over to pick up
his bag.  He took out a brown glass bottle and shook two red pills into his
palm.  Then he got another bottle and shook out ten or fifteen tablets.  He
handed the medicine to Marian.

   "The red ones will help her sleep tonight.  They're Seconal.  The others
are aspirin, for tomorrow.  I don't believe she's badly injured.  Keep a
close eye on the ..." He had been about to say "bite marks", but the two
younger girls were standing there and he didn't want to shock them if they
didn't already know.  "this area here," he said, pointing to where he had
covered the marks up with her nightgown.  "If they get infected I need to
know immediately.  I think she'll look a lot better in a few days, and
there shouldn't be any lasting damage."

   He stood up, his bag in hand, and headed for the door.  At the door he
stopped.

   "I didn't mind coming," he said, facing away from them.  "That man needs
to be found."

   He walked out the door into the dark.

   Marian coaxed Flossie into swallowing a Seconal and two aspirin, and
then told her she had to go and do some things.  She said her children
would stay, and repeated several times that no one would hurt Flossie any
more.  When she promised to come back, Flossie finally relaxed, and closed
her eyes.

   Chapter 26

   Marian went into the house carefully.  Harvey was still unconscious on
the bed.  He was breathing regularly, though, and there was only a slight
bruise where Nathan had hit him with the paint can.

   She had no idea what to do now.  What he had done to that poor woman was
criminal, no doubt, but she couldn't report him.  If he was arrested he'd
be fired and everything would fall to pieces.  She had nowhere to go - her
parents were dead, and his parents were worse than he was.  She had no
skills.  Women were beginning to enter the job market, very slowly, but she
couldn't think of anything she could do to put bread on the table. 
Something had to be done, though.  He had gone too far.  He had gone WAY
too far.  That woman had every right to come looking for him with a gun in
her hand.  She gave a sigh of relief that the woman wasn't married.  If
she'd had a husband, HE would have come looking for Harvey with a gun.  All
she could to was take care of the woman and offer her whatever support she
could.

   She thought back to the hovel the woman lived in.  This woman was a
TEACHER, for pity's sake!  They paid her some kind of salary.  Why would a
teacher, or anybody else, for that matter, live in that dump.  And how was
it that her daughters seemed to know an awful lot about the inside of that
place?  There were too many questions, and not enough answers.  Harvey
seemed to be relatively healthy.  He was on his own.

   She went into the kitchen and began putting together the things she
wanted to take back with her.  She'd stay the night, just in case the woman
had a relapse or something.  If so, one of the children could be sent for
the doctor.  In the mean time, she wanted to be there if Flossie woke up.
She wanted Flossie to see a friendly face if that happened.  The poor woman
had been through too much already.

   =========================================

   Flossie did wake during the night.  She woke screaming.  Marian got the
other Seconal in her, and sang softly to her, stroking her hair until she
was asleep again.

   In the morning, Marian built a fire in the old wood stove.  She hadn't
seen one since she was a girl, but the skills came back easily.  She had
learned to cook on such a stove.  The utensils were mismatched, but well
cared for, and she prepared breakfast with no trouble.  Bernadette and
Hilda Mae had gone into the other room and cleared boxes and piles of
things off an antique feather bed.  They had fallen asleep side by side,
exhausted by the excitement of the evening.  Nathan had pulled the chair
Flossie had been sitting in into the bedroom, and lay draped across it,
snoring lightly.  Marian hadn't been able to sleep at all, thinking about
all the trouble this was going to cause.

   The smells woke everyone.  She looked behind her in surprise as Flossie
walked slowly into the living room, her feet bare on the dirt floor.

   "Good morning," said Marian with false brightness in her voice.  "I
thought you might want to stay in bed."

   Flossie shook her head.  She stumbled.  The Seconal did that to you.  It
made it hard to wake up completely.  "You didn't have to do all this," she
said.

   "Nonsense," said Marian.  "This is the least I could do.  The very
least."

   The girls wandered out of the other bedroom, and sat down on rickety
chairs at the huge old table.  Marian served Flossie first, and then the
girls.  Nathan appeared at the door to Flossie's room, rubbing his eyes
with his fists.  He looked a sight, almost like some ghost come a-haunting.
Marian sat down with a cup of coffee.  When Nathan got to the table she
pointed at the stove.  He could serve himself.

   "Do you have anything to take the paint off?" asked Marian.

   Flossie looked at her paint spattered arms and shook her head.

   "Miss Flossie?" said Hilda Mae.  "Who did this to you?"

   Flossie looked at Marian, who closed her eyes, and then opened them
again to stare into the woman's dark brown ones.  She had no right to ask
this woman to remain silent.

   "It's not something I want to talk about," said Flossie.

   "Was it my Daddy?" Hilda Mae asked, not leaving it alone.

   Marian closed her eyes again.  Hilda Mae always had been very
intelligent.  Putting two and two together, what with Nathan coming home
like that, carrying Harvey, and both of them covered in paint.  She should
have known they'd figure it out.

   "Hilda Mae," said Flossie.  "Don't argue with me."

   "Yes Ma'am," said Hilda Mae, her voice subdued.  She picked at her food,
but Marian didn't say anything to her about it.

   Nathan sat down.  There was nothing wrong with HIS appetite.

   "I made a mess," he said, looking at where the dirt floor was covered
with paint.  He looked at his own arms.  He hadn't changed clothes yet and
Marian couldn't believe he could stand to still be in the paint-soaked
ones.

   "We'll clean it up," said Flossie.  "Thank you for making that mess,
Nathan."

   "Yes Ma'am," he said.  "You're welcome."

   Marian was amazed at how quickly the woman recovered her equilibrium. 
If this had happened to her, she was quite sure she'd be a basket case for
weeks.

   "And thank you for being here with me," said Flossie to Marian.  "I hope
this doesn't strain things for you."

   "Don't you worry about me," said Marian.  She sipped her coffee.  It
tasted so much better than that stuff from the jar.  "And don't you worry
about him either.  He'll be crossing the street to avoid you, I can promise
you that, at a minimum.  Regardless of what else happens, I'll personally
make him pay for what he did for the rest of his life."

   "Perhaps the children should go home and change clothes," suggested
Flossie.  It was a signal that she wanted to talk without them.

   They didn't want to go, but Marian sent them anyway.  She instructed
them not to talk to their father, except to tell him they had been so
instructed.  If he persisted, they were to leave, and come back to
Flossie's.

   When they were gone, Marian set her cup down.

   "What do you want to do?" she asked.

   "There's not much I can do," said Flossie.

   "You could press charges."

   "No," she said softly.

   "You must be joking.  I'm his wife, but you have every right in the
world to demand that he be put in jail."

   "That would never happen," said Flossie.  "And you'd know that, if you
just thought about it.  Not in this town.  Not in this State."

   "But if anyone saw you like I saw you, there would be no question!" said
Marian.  "Even the doctor said something should be done."

   "They'd say I sassed him, or tried to steal from him or whatever they
needed to say to make it all my fault.  He called me a whore, Mrs.  Wilson.
And if I raise my voice others will call me that too.  They'll say I led
him on."

   "But my son was here!  He saw the whole thing!  The doctor saw you.  He
could testify about that."

   "And that doctor would never say a word.  You heard him.  He won't even
treat a Negro, much less testify for one.  To speak on behalf of a Negro is
the kiss of death.  You KNOW that!  And Nathan has a bright future ahead of
him," said Flossie.  "He's smart, and he has courage.  He'll make a fine
police officer, or whatever he ends up doing.  But pitting him against his
own father is not something I want to do.  What happened was bad enough. 
Can you imagine your son, standing in front of the judge?  Do you think
that would make a big difference?  They'd tell him that he didn't see what
he THOUGHT he saw."

   "I saw how Nathan reacted last night," said Marian.  "He respects you a
great deal.  He WOULD stand up for you in court if asked to."

   "He's young.  They're all young.  Being mixed together in school has
made them see each other as just other children.  But we both know the
adults in this town wouldn't be that way.  Not yet.  Maybe in fifty years,
but not now."

   "You're probably right," Marian sighed.  "For the first time in my life
I don't feel so good about that."

   "You could learn a lot from your children," said Flossie.  "Maybe you
already have.  Most women I know wouldn't have done what you did last
night."

   "It was only decent," said Marian.  "My husband harmed you.  I had a
duty to try to undo that harm, if I could."

   "Well, thank you," said Flossie.  "I'll be fine from here on out, I
imagine.  You needn't trouble yourself any more."

   "My children seem to be very familiar with the inside of your ... 
house." Marian let that hang.

   Flossie sighed.  "Nathan has been helping me paint on Saturdays, before
they go fishing.  The girls read books while we paint."

   "I see," said Marian.  "They did not inform me of this."

   "I was afraid of that," said Flossie.  "I suspect they thought they
would have been forbidden."

   "That is likely quite true - they would have," said Marian.  "However,
that will no longer be the case.  I'll have them look in on you from time
to time, if that's all right."

   "They are wonderful children," said Flossie.  "They are always welcome
here ...  as are you ...  if you feel so inclined."

   "Perhaps," said Marian.  "One never knows when one may need to borrow a
cup of sugar."

   That was as far as it went.  It was, under the circumstances,
extraordinary, but that was as far as it could go at that point in time.

   =========================================

   When Marian got home, Harvey was awake and surly.  His head hurt, and he
was still lying in bed.

   There would obviously be no school that day.  Marian sent Bernadette and
Hilda Mae went back to Flossie's, in case she needed anything.  For the
first time in her life she didn't want her daughters to be around their
father.  She told Nathan to go to school to tell everyone to go back home.

   She couldn't take Harvey to the doctor.  He was covered in paint.  She
knew she should, because he might be injured too, but it would be too
embarrassing.  But if he didn't go to work, people might inquire.  The
paint could be explained as a simple accident.  He needed to act normal.

   "You need to go to work," she said, looking at the man who had done such
horrible things.

   She was leaving the room when he asked how he got home.

   "Nathan brought you." she said.  "He hit you with a can of paint."

   "I don't remember that part," he said, looking angry.

   "Do you remember the rest?" she asked, stepping closer to him.

   He looked at her innocently.  "I told that nigger woman to leave my son
alone," he said.  "He didn't have to hit me like that."

   Marian stepped closer and looked down at Harvey.

   "I saw what you did to that woman."

   She turned around and left.  She was back within thirty seconds, a towel
in her hands.  She went to stand beside the bed, put the towel down on the
bed, and pulled the covers down off of him.  He had taken off everything
except his boxer shorts at some point.  She stood back a little, and fixed
him with hot eyes.

   "You are never to so much as LOOK at Flossie Pendergast again in your
life, for any reason whatsoever.  You have abused your freedom and I am
withdrawing it.  You will go nowhere without telling me first, and then
only if I agree you may go there.  Tonight, and until further notice, you
will be sleeping on the couch.  I will keep the car keys, and I will take
you to, and pick you up from the bank.  I will discipline the children and
you will not.  If this is not acceptable to you, you may file for divorce.
There isn't a court in the land that will deny me full alimony if Nathan
testifies ...  and he will be HAPPY to testify on my behalf.  You are
welcome to your opinions, but you will keep them to yourself."

   She reached for the towel, and looked at him, eye to eye.  "Remember
this.  If I ever find out you have touched Flossie Pendergast again, for
any reason at all, I'll castrate you in your sleep."

   With that, she pulled her very best carving knife from inside the towel,
where she had wrapped it up.  It was the one with the needle-sharp point.
It flashed in the air as her hand raised it, and Harvey screamed as he saw
it falling toward his groin.  She drove it clear through the mattress,
about two inches from his crotch.

   She left it there, and stood up.

   "Now ...  get dressed.  When you're ready I'll take you to work."

   ==========================================

   When Nathan told the kids to go home, they were curious, especially
since he was still mostly covered with paint.  He had changed clothes, but
he looked like he had some horrible disease.  He said only that there had
been some trouble, and that she had been hurt and had to take a few days
off to heal up.  The older kids wanted to go see her, but Nathan said he
thought she'd rather not have visitors for a day or two.

   Since there wasn't going to be any school, they then decided that this
was the perfect opportunity to do some more work on the treehouse.  A trip
to the mansion was necessary, to obtain more building materials.  Nathan,
glad for the diversion, said he'd meet them there after he ran a couple of
errands.

   He went to the General Store, where everyone laughed at him.  They had
nothing to remove dried paint and sent him to the hardware store.  The
hardware man said he had just the thing, but that it had to be used
sparingly because it would burn the skin if too much was applied.  Nathan
bought a quart, and then, on impulse, got a flashlight too, and two
batteries.  He took the paint remover to Flossie's.  She was sleeping. 
Hilda Mae was keeping watch over her, and Bernadette was reading.  He left
the paint remover there, but didn't tell them where he was going, since he
wanted them to stay there.

   ==============================================

   The others were at the mansion when he got there, and had separated out
a nice pile of lumber.  The hole around the steps had been cleared more
too, and was slightly larger.  Jesse wanted to make a torch so they could
look inside.

   "I can do you one better than that," said Nathan, pulling out the
flashlight.

   Jesse was the only one who could fit in the hole, really, or Johnnie
Sue, but neither Curtis Lee nor Nathan would let her go.  Before they'd let
Jesse go in, they found more lumber that they could shore up the beam with
that was hanging over the hole.  Finally Nathan handed the flashlight to
him.

   "Don't go in very far," he said.  "And keep talking to us so we know
you're OK."

   Jesse eagerly went towards the hole, going in head first on his hands
and knees.

   "Watch out for nails!" shouted Curtis Lee.

   Jesse's feet stopped within a foot of the outside, and stayed there for
thirty seconds or so.  Then they disappeared and his face came to the
entrance.

   "It opens up pretty big.  It goes under some of the house that's still
standing.  The tree trunk goes all the way down into it!"

   "What did you see?" asked Moses.

   "There's a bunch of old furniture and crates and such stacked all
around, kind of piled up." he said.  "There's kind of a pathway through it.
I could go deeper pretty easy.  It's got a board ceiling.  I can stand up,
but you'd have to duck."

   Luthor said he was going to go pound on the floor of the dining room,
and crawled up to do that.  They all heard him stomping and Jesse's face
disappeared.  It came back and he was smiling.  "Yup, I could see the dust
falling from further back when he stomped.  It's under wherever he was."

   "Is it under the whole house?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   Jessie shook his head.  "No, it's long and narrow.  I can't see how far
back it goes, but it's not under you guys."

   They decided to excavate more, and Jesse came out.  It took them all
day, but they finally cleared a pathway all the way from the steps to the
tree.  Now they could all go down in the cellar.  They only had the one
flashlight, but the hole they had opened up let in some light.  The part of
the room around the tree trunk was full of what had fallen into it from
above when the floor burned through, and that was piled on top of what it
had fallen on.  They could see a crushed chair, and what looked like part
of a desk.  The rest of the room was about ten feet wide.  Nathan went
along the pathway between crates and old chairs and saw, with the light,
that it was only fifteen feet long at the most.

   There were a couple of trunks that, when opened, contained only rotted
cloth ...  all that was left of clothing, most likely.  One crate contained
some wooden toys.  Another held five long brass tubes that had a glass plug
in each end.  They were smooth along their length, except for what looked
like short legs, one at each end, about six inches from the glass plugs. 
None of them could figure out what they were until Luthor looked through
one end, while he pointed the other end at the lighted entrance.

   "Hey!  It's like a telescope or something."

   They took it outside and took turns looking through it.  It brought far
away things very close, but it covered only a small area.  Though they
couldn't figure out what they were for, it was the closest thing to
treasure they'd found, and they returned.

   It was in the last crate they uncovered, that they hit pay dirt.  This
crate was long, like the one that had held the brass tubes.  It was heavy
too, and the wood was stained and dark where it had gotten wet in past
storms.  It had a pile of broken furniture on top of it, and was in the far
corner of the room.  It was nailed shut, but the rotted wood gave easily to
a couple of kicks from Nathan's foot.

   Inside, wrapped in oil cloth, were rifles.

   There were seven of them.  The two on the bottom had gotten wet, and
were rusty, the wooden stocks rotted.  The others were thickly covered with
a greasy substance of some kind, and looked brand new in the daylight
outside.  Luthor exclaimed about them at some length, pointing out they
were muzzle loaders of the cap lock type.  He was puzzled by the barrels,
which were round on the outside, and hexagonal on the inside.  He'd never
seen anything like that before.  A bag of bullets in the box were also
six-sided, and obviously went with these barrels.  Both barrels and bullets
looked strange to all of them who were familiar with muzzle loading rifles.
Johnnie Sue and Luthor still hunted with black powder rifles, but the shot
they used was round.

   The guns were almost as long as Jesse was tall.  Nathan, who had never
held a rifle in his life, lifted one and was amazed to find that it felt
"right" in his hands.  He examined it, finding the word "Whitworth" on the
lockplate, along with what looked like an engraved hammer and crown.  On
one side of the barrel near the front sight was a stamp that said "Parker
Hale LTD Birmingham England" and on the other side were the words "Sir
Joseph Whitworths Rifling .451"

   "What does this mean?" he asked Luthor, pointing to some numbers on the
rear sight.

   "The rear sight elevates!" said Luthor, moving the metal that made up
the sight.  "Those numbers are for distance.  It's marked to a thousand!"

   "Is that a lot?" asked Nathan.

   Luthor nodded, his eyes wide.

   It was Moses who figured out the relationship of the brass tubes to the
rifles.  He saw how the legs on the tubes would fit into slots on the left
side of the barrel, and could be attached there.  Once they puzzled out how
it went, it was obvious that the brass tubes were telescopic sights.

   "Wow!" said Johnnie Sue.  "I bet these are worth something.  This is
real treasure!"

   "Hold on," said Nathan.  "If you show up with one of these, people are
going to want to know where you got it.  When they find out they'll just
take it away from you.  Adults won't let you keep it, and they won't give
you anything for it either.  They'll just take it."

   Johnnie Sue looked dejected.  "But what'll we do with them?"

   "Put them back," he said.  "They've done fine down there all these years
...  well, most of them anyway.  Let's give it some thought.  Maybe we can
find a way to get them to someone who will pay something for them, and
maybe not.  But if we can, then they'll be there."

   "We'll have to cover the hole back up," said Luthor.  "In case anybody
else comes along."

   That was agreed to, though there were a couple of groans.  They had
worked hard to UN-cover the hole.

   Nathan had ruined one whole side of the crate by kicking it in.  The box
that the brass sights had been in was in better shape, so they decided to
put it in the back.  As they pulled out the last pieces of the rifle crate,
to make room for the other one, Johnnie Sue said: "Hey, wait!  There's
something else back there in the corner." She reached in and grunted. 
"It's too heavy for me."

   Nathan shone the flashlight on a rusted metal box that was about a
eighteen inches long and a foot high and wide.  It had metal handles on
either end.  When he grasped them, he thought the thing was stuck to the
floor at first.  Then, with a rasp, it moved.  Grunting, he picked it up
and stepped backwards.

   "Must have more musket balls in it," he panted.  "It weighs a ton!"

   The lid comprised the upper two inches of the top of the box.  They
could see that the box was made of strips of thick metal, heavily rusted ,
but still sturdy, and held together with rivets.  There was a huge old
padlock on the hasp that held the lid closed.  The key hole looked like it
would take a skeleton key, though it was full of rust.

   They tried everything they could think of to get the lock open.  The
pried at it with pieces of wood, which broke.  The hammered at it with a
stone, which broke.  Luthor hadn't brought his hatchet this time, but even
so he was sure the box would have just dulled it.  In the end they were
frustrated.  It was too heavy to carry far, and they certainly didn't want
some adult to see them and take it away, even if they didn't know what was
in it.  Nathan said there would be no school the next day either, and that
they could come back with tools.

   They put the box next to the rifles, covered it with every piece of
broken furniture in the cellar, piled the other crates and trunks in front
of that, and headed for the tree house with their lumber.  This time,
Johnnie Sue ran ahead, looking to see if there was anyone to see them. 
When the coast was clear, she waved her arms, and they advanced at a run.
Doing that the whole way, they got the entire load to the treehouse in one
trip.

   =========================================

   Harvey was at his desk, planning his revenge, instead of paying
attention to business.  The bitch would pay.  His son would pay too. 
Marian thought she was in charge, but she wasn't.  Oh, he'd play her game
for a while, but sooner or later she'd pay too.  He liked their game, when
she took charge, but this was no game.  His son had embarrassed him in
front of a nigger, and he would NOT stand for that.  He heard his
secretary's voice rising outside and looked up.

   The constable walked into the office, trailed by Harvey's distraught
looking secretary.  He had warned her not to just let people walk into his
office.  He would pick and choose who he spent his valuable time with.

   "I tried to stop him sir," the woman whined.

   He waved her out.

   "Why do you suppose she'd even want to stop me?" asked the constable.

   "What do you want?" asked Harvey.

   The constable sat down in the good leather chair.  Harvey scowled.  The
constable, like most others around here, wore overalls.  He looked
ridiculous with that pistol strapped around his bulging waist, like some
cartoon character.  Why the town fathers spent the money to hire the
buffoon was beyond him.  The man just looked at him for perhaps half a
minute.

   "Seems like we got us a little problem here, Mister Wilson." The man
spoke casually.

   Harvey felt a twinge of worry.  He knew Marian hadn't turned him in. 
The nigger knew better than to open her mouth.  It was his word against
hers.  Nathan couldn't say anything.  He had assaulted his own father. 
Nobody would take that boy's word over a grown man's.  Besides, nobody
knew. He was sure of that.  His own family wouldn't turn traitor.

   "Since I don't have any idea what you're talking about, I'd say YOU have
a little problem, Constable." He said it with confidence.  He was good at
projecting confidence.  Confidence was his profession.

   "I see," said the man, looking around.  "You're sure about that?"

   "Look, I'm a busy man.  I have work to do and don't have time to chat
with every Tom, Dick and Harry who decides to drop by and talk in riddles.
If you've got something to say, then say it.  If not, get out.  Go find
someone jaywalking, or whatever it is you do." Harvey didn't stand up. 
This man didn't deserve it.

   The man didn't move.  He pulled out a twist of tobacco and bit off a
hunk.  He chewed it slowly, his cheek bulging like a chipmunk's.

   "All right," he said finally.  But he didn't leave.  "You read the news
pretty regular?" he asked.

   Harvey was losing his patience.  He DID stand up, pointing at the door
and took a breath to berate the bumpkin.  The bumpkin, however, kept
talking, and raised his voice a bit.

   "Unless you want me to haul you out of here, and to jail, in front of
all those fine customers you have out there, you'd better sit your fat ass
down in that chair of yours ...  right now."

   Harvey couldn't believe the man's tone of voice.  He sounded so serious,
that Harvey froze.  There was something in his voice that promised he would
do exactly as he said.  He sat.

   "Now, do you read the news?  Watch it on television?"

   "Yes, of course," said Harvey tightly.

   "Then you know there's a whole slew of troublemakers from up North that
are messing around in business that ain't theirs.  I'm talking about the
'En Ay Ay Cee Pee' I think it is they call themselves.  You familiar with
that bunch?"

   "Bunch of nigger lovers," said Harvey, his eyes narrowing.

   The man smiled.  His teeth were stained with tobacco juice.  "Them's the
ones.  They do love to poke their noses where they ain't welcome, don't
they?"

   Harvey tried one of his winning smiles.  "You are correct.  They've even
got the courts all turned upside down."

   "Yes, they do," agreed the man affably.  He rooted around in his pocket
and pulled out a sheet of paper.  He unfolded it and looked at it, shaking
his head.  Then he stood and put the paper in front of Harvey.  "You know
what that there is?" he asked.

   Harvey looked at it.  It was a drawing of some sort.  It looked like an
oval, made up of dotted lines.  Harvey looked closer and saw that the
dotted lines were actually small, flat ovals too.  There was a line of them
that went up and back down in an arc.  There was another line that went
down and back up in another arc, with maybe half an inch between the ends
of the two arcs.  Together, though, they made up large oval.  There was a
circle in the middle of the whole thing.  Harvey looked up.

   "What's this all about?" he asked, confused.

   "That there is a drawing of something Doc saw last night.  See that
little circle in the middle?  That's a nipple.  Like on a woman's titty."
He winked.  "And them other lines?  Doc says those are teeth marks ... 
from where a man bit that titty ...  real hard."

   Harvey felt the floor try to fall away.  A doctor?  She had called a
doctor?  Still, she couldn't have said anything.  She'd have to know he'd
come after her.  And niggers had their own nigger doctor.  His word
wouldn't stand against Harvey's.  He could just bluff.

   "Well, now," he said, peering at the drawing.  "That's kind of odd,
don't you think?" He looked at what passed for the law in this town.  "Did
you get a chance to actually see these teeth marks?  I mean ...  are they
real?  I've seen that old nigger that does his Voodoo or whatever it is, on
the Ni-gruhs in this town.  I know they CALL him a doctor, but I don't
reckon he'd know teeth marks from some kind of rash.  Looks like ringworm,
if you ask me.  Niggers don't wash.  Ringworm's common."

   "I don't believe I ever said this was on a nigger titty," said the
constable, taking the drawing back.  He looked at Harvey.  "And I said Doc
drew this ...  not Bo."

   "I don't know what you're talking about," said Harvey, fear clutching
his gut.

   "This is a small town," said the constable, looking for a place to spit.
When he didn't find one, he got up, walked to Harvey's wastebasket, and
spat a stream of juice into it.  Harvey blanched.  "There isn't much goes
on here I don't hear about, one way or t'other." The man smiled.  "Like fer
instance, three differ'nt people were wagging their tongues this mornin'
'bout how your boy took you home last night, all passed out, on a
wheelbarrow.  I was a mite surprised 'bout that ...  you being a banker and
all.  Figured you'd do better at holdin' your whiskey than that." He winked
again.  "Then this morning Doc comes a yammerin' on 'bout how they's a
dangerous crazy man who attacked that school teacher and pert near bit her
titty clean off."

   He sat back down.  "Lot happened last night, don't you know."

   "She had it coming!" hissed Harvey, irate that he was being toyed with.
"She needed to be taught a lesson!"

   "Don't doubt it a bit," said the man.  "She does have some strange
ideas, that one."

   "Then why are you here?" asked Harvey in a loud whisper.  "Surely you're
not going to arrest me."

   "Nope." The man smiled again.  "That is not why I am here."

   Harvey felt relief.  Maybe the man was Klan.  Harvey had always wanted
an invitation to join ...  a Hunting Club.

   "What do you want?" asked Harvey.

   "Well, now, Mister Wilson, you see it ain't so much what I want, as it
is what I DON'T want.  And others in this town too.  It's more important
what we DON'T want." He stood again and spit in the wastebasket.  "And what
we DON'T want, Mister banker man, is to have the 'En Ay Ay Cee Pee' finding
anything of even the slightest interest in this town.  What we DON'T want
is for Doc to feel like there is a dangerous man in our midst, and feel
like he might have to talk to a State Trooper about it.  What we DON'T want
is for any God damned nigger-lovers to come snooping around because they's
a court case just BEGGIN' to be filed that will bring all kinds of
outsiders snooping around here that don't fuckin' belong here!"

   Harvey was crushed.  The man couldn't be Klan.  If the man was Klan then
that bitch that had caused all this trouble would just disappear.  And, if
the man wasn't Klan, then Harvey would just have to find some Klan, and
arrange for his problem to be taken care of.  With that in mind he smiled.

   "You don't need to worry.  I understand.  The lesson has been taught. 
There is no crazy man, and nothing for you to worry about." Harvey kept
smiling and stood to indicate that the ...  interview ...  was over.

   The constable stood too, and smiled widely.  "I'm not so sure you really
understand.  We like our town uncomplicated and quiet.  Things is changing,
and niggers are causing lots and lots of problems ...  in some places.  We
don't have none of them problems in this town, and we don't want none.  We
don't want them so bad, in fact, that anybody who does things that would
bring that kind of trouble to this town is real likely to have a terrible
accident ...  a fatal accident.  It would be a real shame if we had to find
another banker just because you had an ...  accident."

   Harvey blanched again.  "Are you threatening me, Sir?"

   "Now that wouldn't be neighborly, would it?" The man smiled, and showed
brown-stained teeth.  "Let's just say I'm passin' along vital information
that will help you increase the odds that you won't have any accidents."

   "I'm a white man!" gasped Harvey.  "She's a nigger!  How can you take
her side in this?"

   The constable was no longer smiling.  His hick accent was also strangely
missing when he spoke.  "She may be a nigger, but she's made this town
better than it was before she got here.  I can't think of a single person
who would say the same about you.  You may be white, but you're also a
mean, perverted son-of-a-bitch who's ruined the lives of several good men
and their families just in the last year." He took a step closer, and his
voice became almost soothing in tone, but with an undercurrent that sent
chills down Harvey's spine.  "But you're on the straight and narrow now,
mister banker-man, and if you step off it just one more time I'll
personally make sure they never find your body."

   He stepped back, smiling widely again.  "Now, I 'spect, seeing as how
busy you are, and all, that I have taken enough of your valuable time.  You
have a nice day, hear?  And say hello for me to that pretty wife of yours."


   He spat in to Harvey's wastebasket one last time, tipped his hat, and
strolled out of the office.  Harvey's knees failed him, and he sat heavily
as he heard the constable greet several of the bank employees by name.

   He sounded like he didn't have a care in the world.



   Chapter 27

   Nathan stopped off at Flossie's on the way home.  His sisters were still
there, and he sent them home.  Flossie, after spending a day with the
girls, was in much better spirits.  She still moved stiffly, but she was
moving around.

   "I couldn't paint, seeing as how my paint was all gone," she joked.

   "Sorry about that, said Nathan."

   "It was for a good cause, as far as I'm concerned," said Flossie,
seriously.  "Thank you."

   "I couldn't let him ..." Nathan turned away.  The vision of his father
looming over her almost naked form tormented him.

   "It will cause trouble," she said.  "For your mother too.  I'm sorry
about that," she said.

   "You don't know my mother," said Nathan, picking at a patch of paint on
his arm.  "She's much tougher than he is."

   "She was very kind," said Flossie.  "She's got a very good heart for a
white ..." Flossie stopped, embarrassed that her own racism was showing.

   Seeing him pick at the paint on his arm reminded her of the paint
remover he had obtained.  The girls had told her about it, but she hadn't
used it yet.  She wondered why now.  She had noticed the paint all day
long, but hadn't removed it.  Now that Nathan was here, she realized it
reminded her of him ...  of him saving her.  It was like she was wearing
the protection he represented.

   She got a rag and the paint remover, and made him sit down.  She began
swabbing at the paint on his arms.  The fumes made her light headed, and
when one arm was clean she suggested that they take a break outside.  She
got into a box and pulled out some scissors.  Once outside she sat on a keg
and handed them to him, telling him to clip the paint-clogged tangles out
of her kinky hair.

   "It's going to leave bald spots," he said, after examining her head.

   "Can't be helped," she said.  "It will grow back." She looked up at him.
"Yours too.  I'll do yours when you're done with mine."

   He asked for a comb, and she went back in to get it and sat back down.

   "Just get it over with," she said.

   He clipped and tugged.  The pain in her hair roots, she decided,
distracted her from the pain elsewhere, and embraced it, thinking that this
pain was removing the feeling of dread that had hung over her since the
attack.  As clots of paint-hardened hair fell to the ground, she released
the fear along with them, beginning to slump on the keg as she relaxed.

   "What's taking so long?" she asked, at one point.

   "I'm trying to save what I can," he said.  "If I don't, you'll be bald."

   She sat, feeling drowsy as his fingers pulled and stroked and massaged
her scalp, while the comb pulled the fear out of her.  Finally he stood
back.

   "You look like a boy," he commented.  "Well, from the neck up, anyway."
He looked startled and blushed.

   "It will grow back."

   She took him back inside and tackled his other arm.  Working on his
fingers, swabbing with the rag, she examined his strong hands.  Then she
moved to his neck.  There was even paint on the back of his neck, small
spatters that had landed there somehow.  She saw a thick splinter of wood
stuck in his hair.  She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it when she was
cutting his hair, and plucked it out.

   "Where did that come from?" she asked him, showing him the inch long
piece of wood.

   Her fingers on his body had relaxed him, too, and he answered
automatically.

   "We've been salvaging wood from that old mansion to build a treehouse
with."

   "The one they say is haunted?" she asked, astonished.  She couldn't
imagine this city boy messing around out there in the woods.  She'd seen
the house as a child - all children snuck out to peek at it as a rite of
passage - but she hadn't even dreamed that Nathan might do the same thing.

   "We haven't seen any ghosts," he said.  He was wary now, though.  He
hadn't meant to say anything to any adult about the house.  He didn't say
anything about what they'd found.

   "I hope you're being careful," she said.  "That place is falling down."

   She combed at his hair, pulling the dots of paint-fused strands, while
he winced.  She got the scissors and began clipping them out until she
could run the comb through his long locks.

   "Your hair is getting pretty long for a ..."

   "White boy?" he asked.  Most white men kept their hair very short around
these parts.  "I guess being white doesn't mean as much to me as it used
to."

   "Nathan, I'm sorry I dragged you into all this," she said, going around
to stand in front of him.  "I should have left well enough alone.  I should
have stuck to math, and reading and English.  Now you and your father are
at odds and those other children are playing at sex and ...  I've just made
a real mess of things."

   He took the scissors from one hand, and the comb from another.  He sat
her down and took up the can and rag, and began cleaning one of her arms,
like she had cleaned his.

   "If you'd have left well enough alone, I wouldn't be passing.  I
wouldn't have a job offer that will make it so that what my father thinks
doesn't matter any more.  I'd still hate you and call you a nigger and make
a fool of myself.  All things considered, I rather prefer liking you."

   He switched arms.  The paint on her was mostly smears, transferred from
him to her.  When the paint left the can, the bottom was pointed towards
her, and the paint had hit him squarely.  Some of it had splashed back on
her, making dots and spots all over her front.  He was more or less
unconsciously going after those dots when he ended up swabbing the skin
under her chin, on her upper chest.  On one swipe, the rag, in his fingers,
hit where the top button of the shirt was.  Her fingers reached for it
unconsciously and undid it, opening up the shirt to the top of her
cleavage. He stared at that spot, and Flossie's eyes saw him staring.  He
pulled back, flustered.

   She took the rag from him, and started doing his face, where paint had
soaked almost everything.  He had rubbed a lot of it off before it dried,
but there was still a haze of paint all over.  She swabbed carefully, and
then went to his neck and to his own top button.  She unbuttoned that and
pulled his shirt apart to see that paint had soaked through his clothes,
onto his skin.  Again, it was just a haze of color, but she unbuttoned the
rest of the buttons, looking at each one, and pushed the shirt open.  She
stared at the muscles under the skin on his chest as she rubbed at the
paint.  Then she got to his nipples, she swiped at them gently and he
hissed.

   "Does it sting?" she asked.

   "A little," he said tightly.  "I should do that myself."

   "Why?" she said, her voice light.

   "It makes me feel funny," he said.

   She looked from his chest to his eyes, and they bore into hers.

   She leaned back.  This boy ...  man, really ...  who sat in front of her
caused complex emotions to bubble up into her chest.  He had gone against
his own flesh and blood to save her.  He had saved her from further injury
and clearly from rape.  She was quite sure that, had she resisted Harvey,
he would have beaten her, maybe to death.  The upwelling of gratitude in
her got all mixed up with other feelings.  She remembered the way he had
looked at her when that door creaked open, as she stood there naked.  His
eyes had held something that was different than the raw lust other men had
shown when they looked at her ...  the way Harvey had looked at her.  But
there had been desire in his eyes, even as he tried to apologize and move
away from her.  She saw a little of the same thing in his eyes now, as they
darted from her face to where her shirt was open.  It appealed to Wanton
Flossie, who quietly urged her to do something crazy, but which was
irriseistable.

   "That's got most of it, I think." she said.  Her hand went to her shirt.
"You got it all over me too." She unbuttoned another button, not believing
that she was doing this right in front of this boy.

   "I'm sorry," he gasped, as the insides of her breasts became visible.

   "I shouldn't ask you to wipe it off of me," she said softly.  "But then
...  you saw me naked before ...  didn't you."

   "It was an accident!" he panted.

   "I know." She unbuttoned another button.  "You saved me," she said.  "He
would have taken all that I have left in life.  He might even have killed
me."

   "No!" said Nathan, his eyes glued to where he could see smears of white
paint crossing her chest.

   "I wouldn't have just let him do that," she said, her fingers pulling
gently at the shirt, spreading it so slowly apart that it hardly moved.  "I
would have screamed.  He'd have beaten me more to shut me up.  I would have
fought, and he'd have beaten me some more.  He wanted to hurt me badly."

   "I KNOW that!" cried Nathan.  "I couldn't let him do that either!"

   "Then take the paint off of me, Nathan," she said softly.  "I can't
explain to you how I feel when you take away the paint, but I need you to
do this for me ...  please?"

   She pulled the shirt completely apart, baring her paint-smeared breasts
and belly.  The bite marks were vividly dark blue against the smooth brown
of her flesh, and Nathan cringed, remembering his father's teeth ... 
clamping ...  biting ...  pulling like some animal, eating its prey.

   "It's all right, Nathan," she said soothingly.  "You've already seen me
like this.  Please, just take the paint off of me, Nathan."

   For once, as Proper Flossie began to rant in the background, Flossie
shut her out.  She didn't think about what she was doing.  His touch
comforted her, in ways so opposite to those of his father that it was like
every time he touched her, some of the pain of his father's touch was taken
away.  She knew it was wrong to let him see her like this ...  to ask him
to touch her this way, but the urge to be clean was so strong in her that
she had to.  She had seen the way he looked at her ...  appreciated her as
a woman, and she wanted to feel like a woman, and not just a female, who
could be taken like some prize won in a game.  His touch was filled with
something positive, even though she knew he had lust in him.  But his lust
was fresh and innocent, not a poison, like the lust that had been in the
man who created him.  She wanted to be respected, and somehow she knew that
Nathan at least respected her.

   She had to help him by taking his hand, putting the rag in it, and
helping him begin to swab at the smears.  She started on her stomach, above
the crusty skin that was scabbing where Harvey had abraded it around her
waist.  Eventually she could drop her arms, relaxing as he continued on his
own.  He bent over and she suddenly stood, taking his hand and pulling him
to her bedroom.  She didn't want to be in the same room where this had
happened ...  where this paint had been splattered.  She shrugged the shirt
off her shoulders and lay down on the bed, dressed only in trousers.

   He left her breasts for last, though she saw him staring at them.  She
watched his eyes, and it thrilled her to see him glance, every so often at
her eyes, a question in his.

   "Should I keep on?" his eyes asked.

   Somehow her eyes said "Yes, please," and he continued.

   Finally the rag began to swab the outer edges of her globes.  He stayed
clear of the bite marks, going around them and, very carefully inside them.
The rag scraped across her left nipple and it swelled and became erect. 
His eyes widened.  He had seen Johnnie Sue's, and his sisters nipples do
that, when they were horny.  The other breast he was firmer with, moving
the flesh from side to side as the rag, and his fingers pressed into it. 
That nipple he was more forceful with as it became erect too.

   "You're beautiful," he whispered.  His mouth snapped shut and he
frowned.

   "It's all right," she said softly.  "Thank you."

   He stopped.  "I have to tell you something.  Ask you something."

   "What is it?" She wished he hadn't started talking.  He had stopped
touching her when he started talking.

   "It's that thing I couldn't talk to you about." He frowned.  "I still
don't think I should ask you, but what's happening to me now ...  " His
hand strayed to the front of his pants.

   "You're erect?" she asked, a thrill shooting through her.

   "Yes," he said, ashamed.

   "I'm hardly surprised," she said softly.  "I think I wanted you to get
that way."

   His eyes opened wide.  "You did?"

   "I'm not supposed to want that," she said.  "But I do."

   "But isn't it wrong?" he asked.  "For both of us, I mean.  You're my
teacher and ..."

   "I'm a Negro," she finished for him.

   "I guess ...  yes ...  but that's not what I meant.  You're older. 
We're not married and I want to ..."

   Flossie felt a ball of warmth burst in her loins.  The proper Flossie
inside her had been nattering on about how wrong all this was, and now it
yelled at her.  The wanton Flossie said "So what's the big deal?  You want
to too.  Admit it girl."

   "You're a man," she said.  "Men are built to want to do that with
women."

   "But my father!" he groaned.

   "He wanted to hurt me.  Sex can be used for that too.  It can be used
for terrible things, or loving, beautiful things.  It's what's in your
heart that makes the difference."

   "I feel that way about ...  my sisters, sometimes," he whispered.  He
looked away.  "That's what I couldn't talk about."

   Now the looks between him and his sisters suddenly made all the sense in
the world.  She had been confused about them, because the looks Bernadette
gave him were very similar to the looks she gave Curtis Lee.  Flossie knew
what those looks meant - the ones graced on Curtis Lee, but she had been
confused by why the girl might flirt with her own brother.  Now she knew.

   "You've ...  done things ...  with them?" she asked, her heart beating
harder in her chest.

   "Yes," he hung his head.  "I can't help it."

   "How much have you done with them, Nathan?" Her voice was firm now.

   "What we saw at the fishing hole?" he mumbled.  "Like that.  A little
more, actually."

   "You haven't had intercourse with them." she said firmly.

   "No!" He shook his head, but still wouldn't look at her.  "But I want
to. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, but couldn't, but now I have
to and ...  and ...  I don't know what to do!"

   "What do they say?" she asked on impulse.

   "They dragged me into this in the first place!" he moaned.  "They got
curious ...  said I was the only boy they could ask to see, and then to
touch and then the next thing I knew they were ..." He stopped, flushing.

   "Was that why Bernadette asked me about blow jobs?" asked Flossie, her
heart thundering in her chest.

   "Yes," he said miserably.

   "She's done that to you?"

   "Yes," he moaned.

   "And you liked it." she stated.

   He finally looked at her.  He looked at her like he was about to cry. 
"Yeeeeessss" he moaned.

   "And now I'm making you feel the same way?" she asked.

   He nodded.  She watched her hand lift from the bed, and drift over to
hover above his lap, where a bulge was apparent.  She watched the wanton
Flossie, who was in charge of that hand, at the moment, lower it until it
rested lightly on the cloth, and the firm flesh under it.

   "You don't want to have intercourse with your sisters, do you?" she
asked.

   "No!" he gasped.  "I mean yes, I want to, but it would be too dangerous!
But if I don't, they'll do it with Moses and Curtis Lee.  I KNOW they will.
They're horny all the time!"

   Flossie closed her eyes, but didn't move her hand.  Moses and Curtis
Lee? BOTH of them?!  Hilda Mae couldn't have at least chosen Luthor?

   "But they haven't done that with them yet?" she asked.

   "No.  They'd have told me." He slumped.  "They've done the other though,
and I know them.  They won't stop.  It's like some disease or something!"

   Flossie suddenly remembered that the health class was supposed to have
something in it about self control.  She couldn't remember talking about
that.  Apparently her class had unleashed passions, instead of controlling
them.  She wondered why she hadn't gotten to the "How to keep from doing
this" part of the course.

   "That's easy," said the wanton Flossie inside her.  "You don't have any
control.  You're about to take your pants off in front of this boy.  Why
would you want him or any of the others to have any control?"

   Her hands went to her belt, and undid it.

   "I have some paint on my left leg," she said, unbuttoning the pants. 
She was wearing panties today.  She couldn't wear a bra because it hurt the
bite marks, but she had put on panties.  She kicked out of her pants as he
sat, frozen.  The front of her left thigh was white where he had hugged her
against him, carrying her to the bed.  "Would you take my panties off,
Nathan?  There's paint under them too."

   "What are you doing?" he gasped.

   "As I said, you've already seen me."

   "But I just told you how I feel about you," he croaked, staring at the
panties.

   "Nathan, take them off," she said firmly.

   His hands were twitching as they reached for the panties.  She lifted
her hips and held her breath as he slid them to her knees.  She dropped her
buttocks onto the bed and lifted her feet so he could pull them off.  The
wanton Flossie made her legs spread, drawing one up to lie on the bed,
exposing her sex to him.  He stared and swallowed audibly.

   "The paint, Nathan," she said, her voice husky.

   Automatically his hand, holding the rag, went to the smears of paint
inches away from her pussy.  Automatically he pulled it away again,
plugging the neck of the can and tipping it to re-wet the rag.  Then he
removed the paint.  His eyes darted from where he was working to the two
black and almost leathery looking lips that closed her off to his view. 
There was a thin stark stripe of bright pink between those lips, just like
the lips of her mouth went from dark, outside, to pink inside.  He didn't
know what would happen next, but he licked his own lips, staring at those
black and pink lines below her curly pubes.

   He wasn't prepared when she sat up and swung her legs away from him,
standing on the opposite side of the bed.  She stood, outwardly looking
completely unashamed.  Inside she quailed, and there was a fierce battle
going on.

   "We both stink of that stuff," she said, pointing at the can in his
hand. "I'm going to heat water for a bath."

   She turned and walked out, wanting to run, to leave the house
completely. Proper Flossie demanded it, then quailed as she actually took a
step toward the front door.  She couldn't go outside.  She was naked!

   She filled the big bucket from the hand pump and put it on the stove. 
Nathan hadn't come out of the bedroom yet.  Being apart from him helped ...
just a little.  Still the urges that raced through her bloodstream made her
ache with need.  She'd never felt like this in her whole life.  She'd been
horny, true, but the newness of letting a man see her, and touching that
man's body brought her to a level that was also new.  She'd never let
herself get into a situation like this before.

   She thought, for a while, that the time it would take to heat the water
would cool her off.  She envisioned the heat she felt inside of her flowing
into the water, and that helped too.  He still hadn't come out, but that
was all right too.  Every moment she delayed returned more control to her
almost dizzy mind.  She dumped the first bucket into the big copper tub
that had come from some rich white man's house at some long gone-bye time,
when a new porcelain tub, with running water, was installed in his big,
fancy house.  She filled the bucket again and set it on the stove, adding
two sticks of wood.  She felt much better, even though she was still naked.
She thought about putting on a robe, but didn't want to transfer the stink
of the solvent to her clothing.  She rubbed at where the paint had been,
and felt both an oily residue, and the dryness of her skin, where the
natural oils had been sucked out by the solvent.  The skin itched where it
had been cleaned.  Her nipples itched, and she rubbed them.  Sensation
flooded through her body and she jerked her hand away.  That wasn't a good
idea.  When would the water be ready?

   She dumped the second bucket, and started a third.  Three would be
enough, with a little cold water added to adjust the temperature.  She
picked up the fancy soap, one of the few things she pampered herself with.
She sniffed the bar, taking it in deep to wash away the smell of the
solvent that hung about her.

   Nathan still hadn't come out.  What was HE thinking about?  Was he
trying to control his urges too?  She warred inside herself, Wanton Flossie
wanting to see him come out of the room gloriously naked, stiff as a board,
all male and ready to fulfill the male's destiny.  Proper Flossie hoped he
would somehow be able to climb out the window that would magically open for
him.

   She felt the heat of the stove, and then wondered if it was really the
stove causing that flush of warmth over her body.  The water was boiling.
She had left it on too long.  Gingerly she picked it up, feeling the
handle, hot in her hands.  She had to get a rag to dump it because the
bottom rim was too hot to touch.  The water steamed in the tub and she
pushed more of her own internal heat into it.  She dipped a finger.  Too
hot, by far.  She pumped a bucket full of cold water and dumped it, dipping
her finger again.

   "It's ready," she called out, not intending to.

   She was about to step into the tub when he appeared at the door.  His
shirt was still off, and his silhouette went from wide at the shoulders, to
narrow at the waist.  She thought of Adonis, and looked away.

   "I don't know what to do," came his plaintive voice.  His voice was much
too young for that body, and it brought impatience into her voice.

   "You must get that stuff off of you.  It's not good for the skin." That
sounded responsible ...  instructive.

   He was being told what to do.  Nathan accepted that easily.  She was an
adult ...  a figure of authority.  Annie had often told him to get into the
bath ...  had seen him naked.  His befuddled mind put Annie's image over
that of the woman standing beside the tub.  He stepped toward her, his
fingers going to his belt.  Something in him reminded him that Annie had
never been naked ...  that even if she had, she wouldn't have had those
firm thrusting breasts, and that youthful body.  The body looked almost
like Bernadette's, except the color was all wrong.  He had had trouble
keeping them apart when he was feasting on Bernie's fabulous pussy.  What
would this woman taste like?  He shook his head, trying to clear it.  His
hands automatically pushed at his clothing and he stepped out of it.  He
looked down, reaching to get it off his feet, balancing on one foot and saw
his prick.  It was hard.

   Wanton Flossie made her lean forward as he stood up.  THERE it was! 
Wanton Flossie purred happily, seeing the maleness that she had been
wanting to see for months.  Proper Flossie quailed, gibbering with fear. 
Just plain Flossie stared at something she knew about, but had seen only
twice.  One had been Jesse's, and it had been youthful and slim.  The other
had been Luthor's, bare of skin at the tip, and shaped like some kind of
fantastic club growing from his loins.  This one was completely different,
thick and smooth, a tube that looked harmless, but at the same time so
virile that she felt a clench in her gut, as if her internal sex organs saw
what set them in motion.  She had the ridiculous image of her ovaries,
spitting out eggs ...  dumping them into the slim tubes that would take
them to where they could bathe in the sperm that lay inside the drooping
testicles that hung below that penis.

   Proper Flossie screamed, shouting out the days since Flossie had stopped
bleeding after her last period.  She screamed the names of the days, saying
most of them twice, demanding that Flossie do the math and stop this
instantly.

   Nathan stepped toward her and his penis bobbed in the air, bouncing
gently up and down with each step.  Wanton Flossie pushed at her foe and
slammed a thick door through which Proper Flossie could only be dimly
heard, ranting and screaming.

   "I can't ask you to use the water after I do," she said, her voice
trembling.  "We'll have to do it together."

   Nathan couldn't think.  Actually, all he could think about was the naked
woman in front of him, but he knew he wasn't supposed to think about that.
He had told her about his sisters, expecting her to push him away,
unwilling to be near a perverted boy.  But she hadn't.  He had expected her
hate of his father to transfer to him.  But it hadn't.  He was naked in
front of her, but she was not turning away in disgust at his obvious lust
for her.  She had just talked to him, like she always did, asking him
questions and listening to him talk.

   "Get in, Nathan," came her voice.

   He got in, just like when Annie had told him to get in.  He sat down in
the middle of the tub, just like when he had sat down in front of Annie. 
Annie got in the tub behind him, standing, and then sat, her legs going to
each side of his.

   Wait!

   Annie had never done this!  It was NOT Annie.  He smelled perfume and
slippery hands landed on his shoulders and went down over his chest
muscles. They pulled him back against soft pillows on a smooth chest, and
as he leaned back those hands went to his stomach, dipping so low as to
graze the beginnings of his pubic hair.  He'd never had pubic hair when
Annie washed him.  His nut sack tightened and he drew his legs up,
anticipating the hand going lower.  But it didn't.  It came back up to
smoothly flow all across his chest, along with the other hand.  There was a
moan in his ear, and hot breath.

   ========================================

   Flossie felt the heat from the water rush back into her body.  All the
heat she had given it slammed into her like a wave of heat from an oven on
a cold day.  The heat the stove had put in the water was added to that. 
The feel of his skin under her palms and fingers was like flame that
couldn't burn.  She wondered that he didn't lean forward, away from her
nipples, which were so hard they felt like rocks pressed into her breasts
by his back.  She felt the hard flesh of his buttocks, pressing against her
sex, and wanted to wiggle closer to him ...  to rub her inflamed pussy lips
against that flesh.

   Proper Flossie was still wailing dimly for her to resist, and she did
that by pushing him forward, to soap his back with her hands.  His muscles
bunched in his shoulders.  Almost of their own volition, though, her hands
dipped between his arms and chest, and she found her hands sliding around
to his stomach again.  She knew that, leaned forward like this, she could
reach that column of white flesh that called her like the siren song.

   She tried to resist that by telling him to stand up.

   She expected him to stand, where he was, which would put his back to
her. But when he stood, he turned, hands hanging at his sides.  His
dripping penis was presented at just above her head height.  She looked up
at him, and he seemed larger than life, Adonis again, white marble dripping
with water and suds.  From this angle, his testicles, hanging low because
of the hot water, stretched down four inches.  They reminded her of a
bull's balls, and he reminded her of the bull.

   He took the soap from her hand, and went to his knees on the floor of
the tub, between her still-spread knees.  He lathered his hands, and a
small detached part of her mind watched as he put the soap back into her
right hand.  His hands started at her shoulders, as hers had on his, and
smoothed their way down her arms.  He picked her left one up and then
soaped the whole thing before switching to the other arm and doing the
same. When he got to her hand he took the soap from her again.  This time
he pushed the soap itself across the top of her chest, and then between her
breasts as she leaned back, arching her back and thrusting her breasts at
him.  He didn't touch them, and she thought she would go mad from the
anticipation.  Finally, gently, he swirled his hands over her thrusting
mounds, his right hand much lighter as it slid over the bite marks, his
left hand squeezing and molding the other breast, causing her to gust her
breath out.  She hadn't even been aware she was holding it in.

   He stood again, obviously ready to get out of the tub.

   Flossie was beside herself.  All the passion she had carefully fed into
the cold water had re-entered her body with a vengeance.  She was strung as
tightly as a violin string, and she wanted that string to be played. 
Proper Flossie wailed at the thoughts going through her mind as her eyes
fixed on the bow that could stroke that string ...  could make her whole
body vibrate from within.  Lust seized her and, in a last ditch effort to
stop this, Proper Flossie whispered that if she stroked that thing, it
would become useless to her rival.

   Her soap-covered hand reached.

   =====================================

   Nathan, to be honest, wasn't really thinking any really coherent
thoughts.  His thoughts were bouncing around in his brain like a ping pong
ball.  When he couldn't see her, because she was behind him, her hands felt
like those of Hilda Mae, or Bernadette, and they fanned the fires in his
loins.  When he reacted to her command to stand up, she became Annie's
voice again, and he obeyed, turning to her to await her next command.  When
he saw Flossie, his hands itched to touch her, like the rag had touched her
not so long ago in his fingers.  It was really that simple.  He just wanted
to touch and stroke her ebony skin ...  to connect with her the way her
fingers had connected with him.  Then, when he found himself manhandling
her breasts, hulking over her like his father had hulked over her, he
stood, getting away from her ...  giving her the chance to escape.

   Then she reached for his penis, and his dreams of just such a situation,
dreams in which Flossie had done this, produced exactly the same results as
when he dreamed them.  Her hand clasped, and stroked, and his penis bucked
and spat his seed forcefully, in long, strong streams that mixed with the
soap still on her chest, staining her dark skin like the paint he had just
removed.  All the horror of seeing the paint splatter her, as his father
fell away, came back and he sobbed, bringing his fists to his eyes and
digging them deep.  The streams of viscous, thick white that had hit her
chest, and splattered on her breasts, to run down over and between them,
were blocked out.  But not the horror of it.

   He lurched, trying to run, and tripped over the side of the tub,
falling, instinctively rolling to land on one shoulder and roll away as he
heard her scream.  He hit his head on the hard dirt, and saw stars, losing
control of his body as his momentum continued to make it roll loosely.

   ====================================

   Flossie had expected semen, but not that quickly, and certainly not in
the prodigious quantities supplied.  Her eyes opened widely as, reaching
up, the thing in her hand turned into a hose of some kind.  She too,
noticed the similarity between what came rocketing out of his penis to
splash on her upper chest.  Only because she was reaching up and pulling
down, did she avoid getting that first offering in the face.  She looked
down to see the milky white stain begin to drool down her wet body, when a
second length of liquid cord landed right on top of the first.  Her hand
jerked and the third landed square on her right nipple, the heat of it
sending a shock through her whole body.

   Then the penis was ripped from her slippery grasp and he was falling
sideways.  She would never forget the sight of his legs and feet, pointing
upward at a forty-five degree angle, or the thud of what must have been his
head on the dirt floor next to the tub.  The combination of the water
kicked up by his feet, and her own surge forward to reach for his legs,
caused water to swoop up into her face.  She stood, looking to see that her
body was magically clean of his semen, and she felt an instant of loss. 
That warm paint had somehow been welcome, and now it was gone.

   He was moaning when she scrambled out of the tub and got down on her
knees beside him, her hands going to his face and head, feeling for blood
or some other injury.  He jerked, and began crying that he was sorry, and
she felt a rush of relief that he was unhurt.  She struggled with his
weight, but managed to pull him up across her lap, holding his head to her
breast, cooing to him that it was all right ...  that he hadn't hurt her
... that what had happened was normal and even expected.

   "I wanted to help you relieve your tension," she murmured.  "I'm not mad
at you Nathan."

   She felt discomfort, and realized his face was buried in the injured
breast.  She pulled his head up, under her chin, and rocked him, like a
small child.  Finally his sobs abated, though he still wouldn't look at
her.

   "I couldn't help it," he moaned.

   "I know," she sighed into his ear.  "I know.  It wasn't your fault.  I
did that to you.  I've done so much to you that I didn't know about.  I'm
the one who should be sorry."

   His face came up.

   "No!" he moaned.  "I've dreamed of you doing that.  I can't control my
urges!  There's something WRONG with me.  I love it when Bernie and Hildy
do that too, and I can't make myself stop thinking about them ...  and
you."

   Flossie's mind and body were still in the throes of her own passions. 
She had relieved his urgency ...  defused the situation for him ...  but
now her own lust begged for release.  Whether that is what drove her to the
next step, or some truly misplaced sense of responsibility for what Nathan
was feeling, we cannot know for sure.  She DID feel responsible for
unleashing passion in the children.  But her decision-making process was
just as likely affected by other things.  All she knew was that, if Nathan
Wilson went home like this, his fate, and that of his sisters was in great
jeopardy.  She knew what it was like to lose control.  She knew what it was
like to dream of what could be, even though that was wrong on so many
levels.

   "You mustn't go back home to your sisters," she murmured.

   "I have to," he moaned.

   "Not like this," she said.

   She pulled him up, expecting to take him to get dressed, and then sit
with him and help them both find some measure of control ...  some way of
dealing with the urges both of them had felt ...  were feeling.  She was
completely unprepared for his penis to be just as long, and just as hard,
as when it had spat on her chest.

   She did pull him to the bedroom, where their clothing lay, scattered
across the floor.  But once there, they somehow ended in an embrace ... 
somehow fell to the bed ...  holding each other, their faces side by side.
She kissed him first, just on the cheek.  His face turned to hers and his
lips were there.  She couldn't help herself from kissing those lips, even
though it hurt hers.  Her hands strayed, stroking his damp, dirt-flecked
back, feeling those muscles again.  His kiss was surprisingly soft, at
least by her expectations.  He pulled back, his eyes wide, looking at her
lips.  Then he kissed her again.  Their bodies moved, shifting this way and
that, side by side and his hands stroked her back and buttocks.  A hand
cupped her buttock and molded itself around her firm muscles there.

   She felt his penis between her thighs, touching her where no man had
touched before, and the heat exploded in her mind as her body shook with
the feel of that male thing, touching her where she had dreamed it might.
She could feel it pressing for entry, insistent, strong, not to be denied.
She could feel her flesh resist, inviolate, unyielding, yet spread apart by
the thing nudging deeper between lips she pulled at and rubbed at in the
night.

   He pulled back, something like fear in his eyes, but fear mixed with the
kind of desire that pierces a woman's heart and makes her legs spread of
their own volition.

   Ten ...  twenty heartbeats went by as they stared into each other's
eyes, panting, breathing each other's exhalations.

   "This is all my fault," she said.

   Her hips wanted to push, to move toward that stiff thing that sought
entry into her body.

   "I told you about things that you weren't ready for ...  or I did it
wrong or something.  Now you want to do something that isn't accepted in
our society.  You can't do that with your sisters, Nathan.  It will ruin
them, and you."

   "I know," he whispered.

   "But you still want to." she whispered back.

   In Flossie's mind, Pandora's Box had been opened, and he would need to
move to the next, logical and passionate step ...  to do it with somebody,
or he'd be driven to do the very thing that would ruin his whole family. 
She didn't know if what came into her mind then was a legitimate "plan", or
just a rationalization of her own desires.  She thought of another taboo, a
taboo he might be able to violate and survive ...  the one between the
races.  If she met his need ...  he would be able to control it when he was
with them.  No one need know except the two of them.

   "Meet your needs," whispered wanton Flossie, not quite getting it right.

   "His needs!" Flossie whispered back.

   "Both your needs," agreed wanton Flossie.

   "You can't make love with your sisters," Flossie said out loud.

   "I KNOW," he said again, frustration making his voice tragic.

   "But you can make love with me."



   Chapter 28

   Marian was washing up the supper dishes, wondering at what had come over
her husband.  He had come home early, subdued, and said he wasn't hungry.
He went to bed right away.  When she went in to see what was wrong, he
asked her ...  actually asked her ...  to leave him alone.  He said he had
a rough day, and just needed some extra sleep.  Then he asked her to wake
him up when she was ready for bed, so he could move to the couch.  She had
been astounded, and was currently thinking about letting him stay there. 
The girls had said Nathan had stopped by at Flossie's and told them he'd
stay there with her for a while.  That was fine.  She would probably need
company for a while, until she dealt with the fear.  Marian had a snippet
of worry that people would talk, but Flossie was the teacher, and kids
probably came and went all the time in a small town like this.

   The girls were reading and Marian was thinking about watching some TV
when there was a light tapping on the door.  Marian was closer and went to
see who was there.  It was a girl.

   "Hi," said the girl shyly.  "I'm Johnnie Sue Thorpe.  I go to school
with your girls."

   "Well, pleased to meet you." said Marian.  "Won't you come in?"

   Hilda Mae appeared at her elbow.

   "Johnnie Sue!" she said.  "What in the world are you doing here?"

   "Well," said Johnnie Sue, affecting a high and lilting voice, "what with
us not having school and all, I got to thinking that I'd never had the
chance to have one of those slumber parties I've heard about ...  and I
asked my Mamma, and she said it would be OK if I invited some friends ...
and ..." She looked down shyly.

   Bernadette appeared, one eyebrow raised.

   "I think that's lovely," said Marian.  "Isn't she nice to invite you for
her very first slumber party?"

   Hilda Mae was staring at Johnnie Sue.  Something had to be up.  This
wasn't how Johnnie Sue talked.  The thing that gave it away even more was
that she was wearing a dress.  Neither Hilda Mae nor Bernadette had ever
seen her in a dress.  Naked ...  yes.  In a dress ...  no.

   "I guess that would be fun," said Hilda Mae, overdoing the reluctance in
her voice.  Her mother took her upper arm and squeezed it in warning. 
"Yes," she added brightly.  "I'm sure Bernadette would love to come too!"

   Ten minutes later the sisters came out of their room with a suitcase. 
Marian was still talking to Johnnie Sue.  They were comparing biscuit
recipes and Marian was bemoaning the fact that neither of her daughters had
any interest in cooking at all.

   They weren't even out of the yard before Bernadette was asking "What's
going on?"

   "Can't a young lady have her first slumber party?" asked Johnnie Sue in
her simpering voice.  "I'll be happy to teach you how to make biscuits."
She grinned.  "Where's Nathan?"

   "He's down at Miss Flossie's," Bernadette whispered.  "Now, what's going
on!?"

   "You were busy at Miss Flossie's today, but something amazing happened.
Didn't Nathan tell you about the treasure?"

   "What treasure?" both sisters asked together.

   "We found something at the mansion.  We worked all day to clear out
those steps and found a cellar.  There were GUNS in it!" she said
excitedly.

   Then she had to describe everything that had happened, and how they
couldn't get the metal box open, but she just KNEW there was treasure in
it.

   "So what are we doing now?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Well," said Johnnie Sue.  "It was your idea to go there, and it was my
seeing the attic that got us back there, and we never would have found
anything if it wasn't for us girls.  I thought we could sneak out there
tonight and find out what's in that box before the boys get there
tomorrow." She grinned.

   "Go there ...  in the dark?" It was plain that didn't appeal to Hilda
Mae.

   "It has to be in the dark," said Johnnie Sue patiently.  "When it's
light the boys will be there too."

   "What about your mother?" asked Hilda Mae.  "Won't she be expecting us
for the slumber party?"

   "It's at your house, you dope!" said the girl, grinning.

   "Oh!  Uh ...  yeah ...  of course."

   "What will we do for light?" asked Bernadette.

   "I've got a lantern," said Johnnie Sue.  "I've got it stashed with my
clothes." She led them to a big tree, behind which was sitting a kerosene
lantern and two bags.  Johnnie Sue stripped naked, got into her usual
clothes and stuffed her dress into the bag her clothes had come out of. 
She picked up the other one and indicated that the suitcase sould be left
there.

   They took off, Johnnie Sue leading, and the two other girls following,
somewhat reluctantly, at first.  But, as they went on, and the full moon
rose higher, their eyes became adjusted to the faint light and the two city
girls were soon exclaiming at how easy it was to get around.  Neither of
them had ever been out, away from the lights of town at night, and had no
concept of how much light the full moon actually reflected onto the earth
at night.  Deep shadows, that seemed so scary at first, became just that
... shadows ...  places of refuge, should they run into someone.  Then the
moved into the woods around the mansion, and the light was cut off as trees
arched overhead.  The going was slower there, and Johnnie Sue lit the
lantern, hunching down and striking the match on the zipper of the pants
she had put.

   "What if somebody sees the light?" asked Bernadette.

   "They'll just think it's the ghosts," whispered Johnnie Sue.  She handed
Hilda Mae the bag she had been carrying, and it almost fell to the ground
as she grabbed it.

   "What in the world is in this?" she asked, hefting the heavy bag.

   "I got a three pound hammer and cold chisel from the barn," said Johnnie
Sue.  "How else will we get the box open?"

   The sisters were amazed at how much had changed since they were last
there.  When Johnnie Sue led them down into the cellar, they looked around
in awe.  They tackled removing the furniture from the stash, and Johnnie
Sue showed them a rifle, which was of little interest to the sisters.  It
took both Johnnie Sue and Bernadette to pull the metal chest from its
hiding place.

   They stood, panting, looking at the box.

   Johnnie Sue got the hammer and chisel from the bag and gave the lock a
few tentative whacks.  Nothing happened, though some shiny marks showed up
on the lock.  She hit it harder, and still nothing happened.  Then she
attacked it with all her energy, hitting the end of the chisel over and
over again while the lock flopped around under it.

   She finally stopped, unable to lift the hammer again, and panting like
she'd sprinted a mile.

   "This isn't working," she said, frustration in her voice.  "I need to
use both hands on the hammer ...  hit it harder ...  but I can't hold the
chisel and hit it at the same time."

   Hilda Mae had been watching events, and snorted.  "If you think I'm
going to hold that chisel for you while you hit my hand, you're sadly
mistaken."

   They tried propping up the chisel with pieces of wood.  Johnnie Sue took
a two handed swing and the chisel dropped to the ground.  They tried again,
and she missed the chisel completely, hitting the pile of wood instead. 
She dropped the hammer in disgust.

   "I thought this would be easy," she moaned.

   Bernadette, convinced in her heart that there were jewels inside this
thing had become more and more frustrated as she watched Johnnie Sue's vain
attempts to defeat the padlock.  She picked up the hammer, and her rage and
impotence strengthened her arms as she gave a mighty swing.  It was more
out of frustration than anything else.  She actually meant to hit the lid,
but missed and the corner of the square hammer caught the base of the
padlock squarely.  Johnnie Sue's attempts had made a difference, though
they couldn't tell it by looking, and the fatigued metal snapped.

   The lock hung, open, in the hasp.

   With shaking fingers, Johnnie Sue pulled the heavy lock from the hasp,
dropping it on the ground.  She grasped the end of the hasp and pulled.

   It didn't move.

   "Open it!" whispered Hilda Mae.

   "It won't move!" moaned Johnnie Sue.  "It's rusted shut!"

   "Get out of the WAY!" shouted Bernadette, who was still holding the
hammer.  She attacked the hasp, beating at it with all her strength.

   "STOP!" shouted Johnnie Sue.  She had to yell twice more before it
penetrated Bernadette's enraged brain.

   "All you did was bend the ring!" shouted Johnnie Sue.  She stared at the
"D" ring, which was now bent sideways, folded over the hasp.  It was
obvious that the hasp couldn't move now.

   Bernadette dropped the hammer and sat down on the ground, panting.

   Johnnie Sue got the chisel again, and put it between the bent "D" ring
and the hasp.  She hit the chisel, and the "D" ring moved a hair.  They had
to take turns, but when they saw that the hasp was moving too, they found
renewed energy.  Finally, Johnnie Sue pried with the chisel and the hasp
popped off the "D" ring.

   Three sets of hands reached for the hasp and pulled, only to find that
the hinges were also rusted so solidly that they wouldn't move more than a
fraction of an inch.  When Bernadette picked up the hammer again, Johnnie
Sue snatched it away from her.

   "You've done enough damage," she growled.

   She put the hammer back on the ground and pulled at the hasp, then
pushed back down.  She set up a rhythm, pulling and dropping and each time
the lid moved a fraction more.  When the lid was moving a full inch, she
ran out of steam, and Hilda Mae took over.  Bernadette finally pushed her
aside, and with all her strength she yanked at the lid with her fingers in
the one inch opening.  There was a squeak of complaint from the hinges, and
the lid pulled up to stand straight up.  Three youthful faces peered into
the box.

   "It's just rags!", moaned Bernadette.

   "It can't be rags," said Johnnie Sue, her fingers reaching.  "It's too
heavy to be just rags."

   White cloth came away in her fist ...  to expose shiny gold.

   Three youthful mouths dropped open, and it was suddenly silent as nobody
breathed.

   They were coins.  As the girls grabbed at them, and pulled up a fistful
of six or seven coins each, they gaped.  What they had thought was rags,
was just the remnants of canvas bags the coins had been in.  There were
three bags, in all, but none of the cloth was sound any more.

   Bernadette lifted one coin out and examined it in the lamp light.  On
one side there was a woman's face, in profile, wearing a crown like thing
with the word "Liberty" on it.  There were thirteen floral looking things
around the outside, and at the bottom was the date - 1861.  On the other
side there was a shield, clutched in the claws of an eagle.  The words
"United States of America" were around the outside at the top and sides. 
At the bottom were the letters "Twenty D"

   "Money!" sighed Johnnie Sue, looking at a coin in her own hand.

   "I've never seen anything like this," said Hilda Mae, turning the shiny
coin so that the light glinted off its rich color.

   "It says twenty on the back," said Bernadette.  "Is that twenty
dollars?"

   "It has to be," said Johnnie Sue.  "My grandpa had a coin like this when
I was little.  They were worth a LOT of money then.  He let me hold it one
time and told me it could buy a whole mule!"

   "1861," said Hilda Mae.  "These are almost a hundred years old!"

   "How many are there?" asked Bernadette.

   They made stacks of ten.  When they were done, there were forty-three
stacks of ten, and one stack of seven.

   "That's over eight THOUSAND DOLLARS!" squealed Johnnie Sue.  She sat
down on the dirt, and almost fell over sideways, so faint-headed was she.

   Suddenly, the comforting dark around them held watching eyes ... 
jealous eyes ...  coveting eyes.  Johnnie Sue actually blew out the lamp,
so sure was she that they were being watched.  Down in the cellar, there
was no light at all, and the blackness terrified Hilda Mae and Bernadette.
Both girls started crying.

   It took a minute, but Johnnie Sue located another match in her pocket
and lit it.  She held it up, and the cries of the girls stopped.

   "Put it all back," she whispered urgently.  "Quick!" She barely got the
lamp re-lit before the match burned her fingers, and sucked at them.  There
was the dull clink of coins being dumped back into the chest.

   "Wait!  Keep one out!" Johnnie Sue whispered again.  Bernadette reached
and gripped one coin tightly in her hand, as they pushed the lid back down.
Then, with strength produced by adrenaline, Johnnie Sue grunted and moved
the box by herself, back into the corner.  Then there was a frenzy of
piling broken furniture back up to cover the rifles and the real treasure.
They crept to the stairs, and Johnnie Sue blew out the lantern again.  She
cut off the complaints from the other two girls, telling them to just wait.

   Ten minutes later, though it seemed like an hour to the girls, they
stole up the stairs and stood in the ruins of the mansion, heads turning
... listening.  Their eyes were adjusted, and no one wanted the lantern
now. They flitted from tree to tree for the first five minutes, until at
last they began to feel secure that no one was actually there ...  that
their secret was safe after all.

   "What are we gonna do?" asked Hilda Mae, excitement flowing through her
veins.

   "We can't tell anybody!" said Johnnie Sue.

   "The boys!" squeaked Bernadette.  "They'll come here tomorrow and find
it!"

   Johnnie Sue stopped at the edge of the woods, looking out at the field
they would have to cross.  "I didn't mean them," she said.  "The coins
belong to all of us.  I meant adults."

   "We HAVE to tell somebody!" said Bernadette.  "We can't just show up
with hundred year old gold coins to buy things and expect nobody to ask any
questions!"

   "Miss Flossie would know what to do," said Hilda Mae.

   "She might want some of them," objected Johnnie Sue.

   "There's four HUNDRED and thirty-seven of them!" said Hilda Mae.  "I
think there's enough to go around!"

   Johnnie Sue felt shame.  Of course there was enough to share with
special people.  There was more than all the kids could spend in years!

   "OK, but we can't tell her how many there are.  Not yet.  Let's see what
she says about us finding ...  say ...  ten or something."

   "Deal!" said Bernadette.

   The three excited girls headed across the field.  It was late, and
they'd probably have to wake Miss Flossie up, but they were too excited to
wait until morning.

   ========================================

   The words rang like a gong inside Nathan's head: "You can make love with
me."

   He had been wallowing in the feel of her naked skin against his, like a
pig wallows in mud, delighting in the pure sensation of it.  He was aware
that there was the kind of heat around the tip of his stiff prick that he
usually only felt when Bernie's or Hildy's mouth was sucking him, but he
had been so overwhelmed with the sensations of her hands on him, and his
hands on her, and her breasts pressing against his chest, and her full,
lips caressing his, that he hadn't had time to fully evaluate that heat.

   Now her words brought that heat to front and center, and he realized
exactly where his penis was.  The urge to thrust came upon him like a
ravening wolf, almost blotting out any control.  But a more mature part of
his mind remembered the pain she had recently been through.  He knew enough
about maidenheads to know there was pain associated with them, and he was
well acquainted with how snugly his finger was clutched by his sisters'
pussies.  Along with the mind boggling sensation of a woman inviting him
into her, was the iron fist of caution that prevented him from attempting
to skewer her with one lusty thrust.  He couldn't prevent the initial
movement of his hips, but that tiny surge only spread her a little more,
her pussy lips sucking at half the tip.

   "It will hurt," he gasped.  "won't it?"

   "I don't know," she moaned.  Her mind was grappling with the permission
she had just blurted out.  She must be crazy!  He was just a boy!  There
was a sensation that pushed its way into her consciousness.  The clitoris
she loved to rub was in contact with the wide head of his penis as it
pressed between her straining vulva.  It felt delicious.  Nothing but her
finger had ever touched her there.  She couldn't resist the tremor that ran
through her body and caused her to wiggle down onto that pressure.

   That action stretched things too far, and his foreskin was pushed back
enough to let the head pop through the constricting lips.  Her hymen,
already abused, gave way with a slight sting.

   "Uhhhhhh," she groaned.

   When the heat surrounded the tip of his prick, Nathan felt light headed,
and that almost overwhelming urge to thrust came back.  Her groan held it
at bay.

   "Flossie?" he whispered.  It was the first time he had addressed her as
an equal, by only her first name.

   "Ohhh Nathan," she moaned.  "We shouldn't be doing this."

   It took every ounce of strength in his body to offer to stop, but he
did, through gritted teeth.

   Wanton Flossie, who was frowning at the pain of the stretching, gritted
HER teeth too, and forced a "NO!" through Flossie's lips.

   Now Nathan felt like he'd HAVE to thrust, or he'd just go crazy.  But
she was panting like a locomotive at full steam, her eyes tightly closed,
and he knew that if he did, it would cause her pain.  The only thing he
could do was roll away from her, whether she wanted him to or not.  As he
moved, and she realized what he was trying to do, she clutched at him, and
her elbow aided her in rolling up on top of him.  The tip came out of her,
and the pressure vanished.  Her rigid body relaxed, and she lay her head on
his chest, suddenly missing the pressure.

   "Are you all right?" he asked, his chest heaving almost as much as hers.

   Now that the pain was gone, only her lust was left, and Flossie, though
she'd never heard of making love like this ...  with the woman on top ...
felt driven to do something.  She pushed with her hands, moving them from
the bed to his chest, and sat halfway up.  She could feel that hard thing
that had stretched her under her buttocks, and she slid downwards, feeling
the tip slide greasily between her vulva.  Her clit contacted it, and with
another groan, she slid her clit along the entire length of it, until she
felt his testicles squash.

   All her attention centered on that feel ...  the feel of his suddenly
bumpy penis as her bud slid along its length.  She pulled forward, arching
her back to increase the pressure, and sighed as the thrills shot through
her.  Her nipples tingled, and she wanted to squeeze them, but she couldn't
and support her weight at the same time.  She reached with one hand, trying
to squeeze her right nipple, while supporting herself with her left hand.
She could get to the nipple, but she couldn't slide as well, and she
dropped her hand back to his chest.  Sliding was more important.  She
couldn't believe the feel of this wonderful thing she had discovered.

   Nathan, unable to think clearly, just watched as the woman rode him like
some kind of hobby horse.  It felt good to him too, but the urgency he
expected to spurt wasn't there.  He saw her reach for her nipple, and
squeeze it, and then stop, and it just seemed natural to do that for her,
so he did, taking care with the left one, to make sure he didn't touch the
teeth marks.  Her eyes popped open and she looked down.

   "Uhhhhh yessssss," she hissed, rubbing harder.

   Her movements became more frantic as she felt the orgasm just ...  there
...  and reached for it.  When she slid too far, and the tip of his penis
slipped between her vulva to lodge in her opening, she didn't care about
the pain any more.  With a grunt, she impaled herself as the orgasm broke.
There was considerable pain, but her tingling clitty fought with that,
putting pleasure up against the pain in a head-to-head battle.  What made
the difference was that, when she bottomed out, her clitty was squashed
flat, trapped against his pubic bone, with nowhere to go.  Her cry was of
mixed agony, as her virgin pussy was filled to overflowing for the first
time, and of exquisite ecstasy, as her clit sent waves of pleasure
throughout her body, bouncing between that spot, and the nipples that his
fingers were pinching.

   Nathan lifted his head, unbelieving, as what felt like the warmth of
Hilda Mae's throat surrounded his prick.  He stared, seeing the base of his
penis, surrounded by his light brown hairs, and her black ones.  Her cries,
delivered in panting grunts as she hunched and wiggled on the thing that
she was impaled on, told him there was something going on that wasn't all
bad.

   She went rigid, the muscles in her arms like steel cords as her head
went back, like she was looking at the ceiling, and she held that rigid
stance for long seconds, before she sagged suddenly back onto wobbly arms.
She looked down into his eyes.

   "Oh Nathan," she sighed, slowly collapsing down to seek his lips with
hers.

   She reflected on the pain in her lips, and the lesser pain that she felt
where they were joined, as she kissed him.  She welcomed that pain now.  It
was her just due.  She had broken the taboo ...  corrupted this sweet boy.
She deserved the pain.  It was while she was kissing him, and welcoming the
pain of crushing her bruised lips to his, that she realized that was the
only pain she felt any more.

   She sat back up, feeling muscles that, before this, she hadn't known
existed.  Those muscles were still gripping hard flesh inside her.  She
tensed them, expecting pain, but nothing happened, except that he moaned.
Amazed that the pain could vanish like that, she moved her hips on his
hardness.  There was a feeling of fullness, to be sure, of things being
forced apart, but it wasn't exactly pain any more.

   "Ohhhh Nathan," she moaned, her hips beginning to move again.

   They didn't know what they were doing, really.  Everything was so new,
and felt so good to Nathan, that he just lay there and let the feelings
wash over him.  When she went stiff like that, and her muscles sucked at
him, almost like Hildy's throat, he felt a rush of gratitude that, in some
small way, he was involved in that.

   For Flossie, she was lost in the feelings that riding him produced. 
There were times she wasn't really aware he was there, or that maybe this
was all a dream.  But the feelings kept coming, and she learned how to help
them come, altering her upper body in this way, or that way, that caused
his penis to press in this way, or that.  She exhausted herself on him,
reaching for that feeling five, then six times, like a child eating candy
until she can hold not another bite.  Then she lay down on him, and the
emotion of all this caught up with her, and she cried.

   Her tears were a complex mixture of emotions.  For one thing, as she lay
there, his thick manhood still thrust deep into her, she knew, beyond any
reason to doubt, that she would never be able to turn him away again.  She
felt in her bones, that if he lifted a finger, she would strip naked and
lay open for him to plunder her.  She felt almost owned, and that made her
feel shame.  More shame came from the knowledge that she had crossed a line
that should never have been crossed.  But along with her tears of shame,
she shed tears of pure, unbounded joy.  She also knew that she had found
something with this boy that was precious ...  more precious than anything
she owned, and that he, too, would come at her beck and call, to do this
again, if she wanted.

   He had been gentle and caring.  There had been no bull in him, to
rampage and trample her under his male hooves.  That he wanted this ... 
luxuriated in this like she had, was plain, even as her tired muscles felt
his invading strength still pressing against them.

   She wondered at that strength.  He had exploded without warning in the
tub, yet, had stayed hard and ready.  She didn't think that was the usual
behavior of this new thing she was now so well acquainted with.  Had he
spurted those long strings of white inside her too, while she had ridden
him to exhaustion?  That caused remorse, because she knew how dangerous
that would be ...  to her more than him ...  but still something that could
cause trouble.  There was, though, deep inside her, an almost hope that he
had given her his ultimate gift, as much trouble as the results of that
gift might be.  Her biology alone craved to be filled with life, if not
other parts of her.

   "Are you all right?" he asked softly as he felt her tears drip hotly to
his chest.  "Did I hurt you?"

   That he cared so much washed over her like waves from the ocean she had
never seen, tumbling her fears and regrets away and leaving her feeling
like she had just stepped from the bath.

   "No," she whispered.  "I loved it."

   "I love you," he said, his hands drifting along her back.

   Her initial reaction was that he was a puppy, who didn't know what he
loved, but his next comment blew that away in tattered shreds too.

   "I know I shouldn't love you ...  that I'm not supposed to love you ...
and that it can be hurtful to you ...  but I know what I feel."

   Perhaps it was too much for them both.  She knew she should get off him,
send him home, that someone might come looking for him.  But he felt so
good, holding her, that she lay there just a little longer.  She wasn't
aware she fell asleep, or that he joined her soon after.

   Chapter 29

   "Where are we going to tell her we found them?" asked Hilda Mae as the
girls moved quietly through the dark.  All their fears about being seen had
come to naught, and they had walked through the night as if they owned it.

   "At the fishing hole?  Under a rock, maybe?" said Johnnie Sue.

   "Who would leave ten of these under a rock at a fishing hole?" snorted
Bernadette.  She had clutched the coin in her hand the whole way, and her
palm was sweaty.

   "Lying in the road?" suggested Hilda Mae.

   "And we found it while we out taking a moonlit stroll?" said Bernadette,
disgust in her voice.

   "We don't HAVE to talk to her about it at all!" said Johnnie Sue.

   "We have to talk to somebody!" said Bernadette.  "If I walked into the
store and plopped this down to order a Nancy Drew book, my father would
know about it in five minutes!"

   "Well, he's a banker, isn't he?" said Johnnie Sue in a grumpy voice. 
"Who better to tell us what they're really worth?"

   Bernadette stopped.  "You DON'T know my father!" she hissed.  "He must
NEVER find out about these ...  NEVER!"

   "OK, OK, don't get upset," said Johnnie Sue.

   They kept trying to think up a story to tell their teacher, but by the
time they saw the dim light in the window at the back of the house that
told them she was still awake, they hadn't come up with anything.

   "Let's look in the window," said Hilda Mae, nervously.  "Just to make
sure she's awake." The thought of pounding on Miss Flossie's door in the
middle of the night didn't appeal to her as much as it had earlier.

   ======================================

   Flossie woke, to feel pain in her chest.  The light was still on.  She
realized she had fallen asleep, and was draped over Nathan, whose firm
chest was pushing into hers.  To her own chagrin, the next thing she did
was flex those newly discovered muscles.  She didn't feel anything.  He had
gone soft, and slipped out of her.  She lifted her head, and looked at his
profile as he slept under her.  He WAS handsome.  She felt her heart beat
faster in her chest, and rolled carefully off of him, trying not to wake
him.  He lay in the light of the dim bulb on the ceiling, relaxed.  She
stared at the thing that had been inside her ...  had spurted on her chest
...  had made her feel so fabulous.  It looked so harmless now that she
wanted to giggle.

   She yawned.  It had to be late.  She had to get him out of here before
his mother, or someone else came looking for him.

   With her weight now off his chest, Nathan gave an unconscious sigh as
his lungs filled completely, and then emptied out.

   Flossie felt that thing she had thought about earlier ...  that
demanding feeling of doing that again with him.  She felt the itch between
her legs and carefully explored there, lifting one leg.  Nothing.  She felt
no different than she ever had.  She brought her fingers up and peered at
them.  They were wet, but with the same wetness that was always there when
she felt like this.

   She couldn't resist touching his penis ...  just with one finger,
pushing its limp form from one side of his abdomen to the other.  She
gripped the tip lightly, and pushed the hood off the tip.  She marveled at
its shape, and how she could feel that shape rubbing inside her.

   She didn't realize she was playing with it as she daydreamed, re-living
the joy, until he made another sound in his throat.  She looked at his face
to see his eyes slowly blink open, and then realized that he was hardening
under her fingers.

   "Hi," he said.

   His simple greeting thrilled her to the bone.  No recriminations ...  no
regrets ...  no objections ...  just ...  "Hi."

   "It's very late," she said softly.  "You must go home."

   "Don't want to," he murmured, rolling to kiss her shoulder.  His lips
moved to her neck, and she moved her head to one side automatically to give
him more room.  Her hand closed around his penis, which was almost hard
again.

   "You have to," she moaned.

   "In a minute," he said, nuzzling her upper chest.  He remembered how
Bernadette had liked it when he sucked at her nipple.  Flossie's unhurt
breast was right there, and he closed his lips around the dark tip and
sucked.

   "Ohhhh Nathan, you shouldn't do thaaaaaat," moaned Flossie.

   He stopped just long enough to ask why, and then suckled at her again.

   "Because if you keep doing that I won't be able to make you leave," she
sighed.

   "Good," he said.  His hand drifted to her loins, and one finger pressed
between her lips as she gasped.

   "It was really in there?" he asked, kissing her neck again, and
inserting just the tip of his finger inside her.

   "Ohhh yesss," she gasped as his finger pressed her clit.

   "Can I do it again?" he asked, sounding much younger than he was.

   She pulled him on top of her and spread her legs.

   ======================================

   Bernadette snuck up to the window that she knew would let her see into
Miss Flossie's bedroom.  She edged her face into the lower pane slowly,
afraid to make any quick movement because that might draw Miss Flossie's
attention if she was reading or something.

   Miss Flossie wasn't reading.

   Bernadette gave a strangled "EEP!" and jerked her head away, only to
thrust it back up into the pane, her eyes wide open.

   "Nathan!" she blurted in a hoarse whisper.

   "What?" asked Hilda Mae.  "Is Nathan in there?"

   Bernadette couldn't speak.  She couldn't move.  She felt like she was
floating.  When someone tried to push her aside, though, her muscles
responded and she shoved back, hard.

   "What's the MATTER with you?" whispered Hilda Mae crossly.

   "Nathan," said Bernadette again, unable to say more.

   Two more faces pushed into the corners of the two lower panes of glass
in the window, peering in to see what had so discombobulated Bernadette. 
Almost as if they had rehearsed it, there were twin explosive whispers:
"NATHAN!"

   ========================================

   Something in Flossie wanted him on top this time, in the 'normal'
position.  She settled into a comfortable posture on her back, pulling a
pillow under her head, and spread her legs, drawing her knees upward to
open herself for her lover.  He crawled between her thighs, his hands on
the bed beside her hips.  He looked down and saw a gleam of pink, as her
vulva swelled and opened for him.  As much as he wanted to explore that
with his eyes, and tongue, he kept going until his prick hung, full and
hard again, over her thatch of curly black hairs, and that flash of pink.
She put her hands on his shoulders automatically and then, took one hand
and gripped the thing that she couldn't wait to feel inside her again.

   Five pairs of eyes, three outside, and two inside, watched intently as
she brought the tip to where she knew it should go and he leaned forward
slightly to nose it in.  Then five pairs of eyes watched as it slowly sank
into her until his pale hanging balls bumped against her dark, satiny
buttocks.

   The girls outside heard Flossie's moan of pure joy.  It was as clear as
ice water thrown in their faces that that moan was, in fact, the product of
pure joy, and that everything going on in front of their astonished eyes
was completely consensual.

   Nathan didn't know what to do at first.  Nature helped him, along with
the remembrance of seeing two dogs humping, though this position was
completely different from that one.  Until this night, had he been asked,
he would have said that the man approached the woman from behind.  That was
his only frame of reference.  In fact, as he had imagined his parents in
their bedroom, he had imagined his mother on her hands and knees, and his
father behind her.  He had imagined viewing his sisters from behind like
that too, in his fantasies, as he kneed his way toward them, his penis
aching to sink into them.

   But now, that all fled, as his hips made the first instinctive movements
that would draw him out slightly, just to plunge back in.

   It was pure luck that Flossie was already almost insane with desire when
he first slid into her.  Her orgasm was there, waiting for her as she was
filled again.  It was just as well, because Nathan, looking down on the
beautiful woman beneath him, did what nature intended him to do.  He didn't
think about it.  He just acted.  Within ten strokes, he went in and stayed.
His balls bunched, and he fertilized her.  The sweet agony of spurting, was
even better than when he did it with his prick buried in his sister's
throat.  His biology knew that this was the real deal, and it gave
everything it had in him to complete that deal.  Strong and pure, his issue
blasted into her.

   Flossie knew instantly that this was different.  She felt the flood of
warmth deep inside her, and realized immediately that she could never
mistake that feeling for anything but what it was.  Wanton Flossie exulted
at the feel of his seed flooding her, flowing into every nook and cranny of
her belly as she strained up to meet him.  Her worries were still there,
but now they were like thinking about a tornado on a clear summer's day. 
There were tornadoes, but they were not to be worried about now.

   Nathan grunted with the force of giving her everything in him.  As his
semen flowed through his penis he wished he could follow it, to be
completely inside her.

   "I love you so much," he gasped, his head drooping as his body relaxed,
its duty done.

   "Ohhh sweet Nathan," panted Flossie as he sank down on top of her.  She
welcomed his weight, feeling him press her into the mattress, and her hands
fluttered over his back, finally falling to his buttocks to pull ...  to
keep him in her forever.

   But she couldn't keep him here.  It was too dangerous.

   "You have to go home," she said, pushing at him, and wishing she didn't
have to.

   "I know," he said, getting to his hands and knees.  His penis pulled
out, and a vivid string of white connected him to her ...  connecting light
to dark.  Both of them stared at it, realizing on some level that it was
not a good thing to see, but also thinking that it looked right somehow.

   ==================================

   It was that string of connecting white that thawed the frozen muscles of
the girls outside.  Hilda Mae and Johnnie Sue pushed away from the wall
almost explosively, taking three steps backward.  Bernadette more or less
slumped, her shoulders drooping as tense muscles just couldn't clench any
longer.  She stepped back and stared at the window.  It wasn't ANYTHING
like she had imagined it would look like.  It was so fluid ...  so smooth
...  it looked so effortless, not at all violent or painful.  It had been
...  she thought ...  beautiful.

   But there were negative feelings too.  Lately, she had wondered what
that might feel like.  Her imagination had involved Nathan.  She felt
jealousy that Nathan had done this with someone else, and not her.  At the
same time, she knew her imagination had also involved Curtis Lee sometimes,
and she felt an eagerness now that made her suddenly have to rub.

   She put the coin, still gripped in her right hand, into a pocket, and
then sent that hand went her pants as she sucked in her stomach to give it
room.  She leaned against the house with the other hand, and squatted. 
THERE!  Yes, she could reach it.  She couldn't get her finger up inside
her, but she could torture her bump.  She lifted her head just enough to
peek through the bottom of the pane as Nathan got off the bed and
stretched. His penis was soft now.  Her eyes went to Flossie, who lay there
as if dead, her legs spread, the gleam of white just below her coal black
pubic hair.

   "Unnngg," grunted Bernadette as her orgasm gave her relief.  Her hand
jerked and she squatted more as her knees gave out.  She leaned her head
against the house as it peaked, and whispered "Nathan."

   "What are you DOING?!" came Hilda Mae's urgent whisper.  Her own hand
was pressed against her pussy, but outside her clothing.

   "She's doing what I feel like doing," husked Johnnie Sue, one hand on a
breast, and the other pressing between her legs, like Hilda Mae.

   "We have to GO!" whispered Hilda Mae, almost in panic.  "He's leaving!
We can't knock on her door now!"

   "I guess not," sighed Johnnie Sue.  "I can't believe they did that!" she
said, suddenly animated and excited.

   "Me either!" said Hilda Mae, almost too loudly.  "Wow!"

   The reality of what they had seen descended on them all, and the mix of
exhilaration of seeing something so secret, and the hormones rushing
through their nubile bodies energized them almost like a drug.

   "What are we going to do?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "We have to go home!" said Hilda Mae automatically.

   "We CAN'T!" whispered Johnnie Sue.  "Your mother thinks we're at my
house, and my mother thinks we're at YOURS!"

   "Shit!" Bernadette gave an explosive grunt.

   "Bernie!" said Hilda Mae, shocked.

   "He did that with HER!" huffed Bernadette, "Instead of ME!"

   Johnnie Sue gasped.  "You'd let him do THAT?!"

   The thought that she had just let a whopping secret out wasn't enough to
quell the jealous rage that was eating at Bernadette.  She turned on her
friend.

   "Wouldn't YOU?" she hissed.  "After what we just saw?  Wouldn't YOU want
him to do that to you too?"

   "Bernie, shut up." Hilda Mae's voice was above a whisper, and urgent.

   "He SQUIRTED in her!" said Bernadette.  "She might even have his BABY
now!"

   Hilda Mae recognized the voice her sister was using.  When she was mad
like that, there wasn't anything you could do.  She just had to work
through it.  She usually did that pretty quickly.  She had a short fuse,
but it didn't burn all that long ...  usually.  She grabbed her sister's
shirt and pulled forcefully, to at least get her far enough away from the
house that they wouldn't be heard.  Bernadette pulled away and started
stomping around the house, her arms swinging.  It was obvious she intended
to confront her brother.

   Hilda Mae and Johnnie Sue both teamed up to tackle her.  Hilda Mae knew
to put a hand over her mouth, and she held on with all her strength as
Bernadette struggled wildly, trying to scream.  Johnnie Sue held onto her
legs, so she couldn't kick or get back up.  Suddenly, they felt her go
limp. Hilda Mae took her hand away slowly, ready to clamp back down.

   "You can let go now," said Bernadette, her voice sounding completely
normal.

   "Are you in control again?" asked her sister carefully.

   "Yes.  I'm still mad, but I'm OK now."

   They let her go in stages, and she shook off their grip in irritation.
She stood, and bent to dust off her clothing.  The other two relaxed, until
Bernadette looked at them and said: "You're so stupid!"

   Then, like a deer, she was off and running, her arms pumping as she
headed for the front of the house.

   ========================================

   Nathan left Flossie's feeling unbelievably light on his feet.  Whether
what he felt was "love" in the deepest sense of the concept, or simply
"puppy love" as Flossie had naturally thought, doesn't really matter.  For
the person under its spell, there is no difference.  He felt like a man for
the first time in his life.  Even when he drove the truck during harvest,
and defied his father ...  despite being accepted by the farmers as an
equal ...  he had always felt like a boy, trying to be a man.  Now, though,
he knew he understood the first glimmer of what it felt like to be a real
man.  Like the other, it didn't really matter if he was right or not.  His
frame of reference, concerning the world in general, and sex and Flossie in
particular, had irrevocably changed.  Her kiss goodbye had told him
everything he could have hoped for.

   He was welcome to return.

   It was in that fog of ecstasy that he heard the pounding footsteps in
the night.  He was in the act of crouching and turning when a light,
obviously female body crashed into him.  He went down, his hands full of
breasts, and his olfactory sense told him it was Bernadette long before he
would have figured it out any other way.  She was panting, but otherwise
silent for a second, and then he had to shift his hands from her breasts to
fend off her fists as she pounded them at his head and shoulders.

   "How COULD YOU?" she yelled.

   He grabbed her wrists more by instinct than vision, and his grip was
like iron.  She pulled, but could do nothing.  She scrambled up to sit on
him.  He heard more panting breaths and footfalls, and heard Hildy and what
sounded like Johnnie Sue arrive.

   "What are you doing out here in the dark?" he asked, his big brother
(and now adult persona) taking charge.

   Bernadette was spluttering with anger, so much in turmoil that, after
her first question, she couldn't phrase either a curse or more
interrogative response.

   Bernadette's mind decided on a comment.

   "I HATE YOU!" she almost screamed.

   Suddenly, her weight was gone from his stomach, and her wrists pulled
him to a sitting position.  He could just make out a hand over her mouth,
and arms around her, pinning his older sister's arms to her sides.  She
struggled and then went limp.

   "What's going ON?" he gasped.

   "We saw you through the window," panted Hilda Mae.  "She's real mad
about that."

   "What window?" he asked, confused.

   "Miss Flossie's window you dope!" snapped Hilda Mae.

   "Oh," said Nathan, his newfound adult feeling fleeing from him as if it
had never been there.  "Oh SHIT!" he gasped.

   "Will the children in this family PLEASE stop cursing like that?!"
moaned Hilda Mae.

   "She attacked me!" Nathan said, dusting off his shirt.

   "She's jealous, you turd," growled Johnnie Sue.  She couldn't say why,
but she felt some of the same thing in her own body now that she'd had a
chance to think about it for more than two seconds.  She'd never really
felt jealousy before, but she recognized it.  It was ugly, and she didn't
like the feeling at all.  She sympathized with Bernadette.  "We saw you in
there with Miss Flossie, making a baby in her!"

   There is an unwritten rule that all teens magically know.  Basically,
when you think you're in trouble: Deny ...  obfuscate ...  prevaricate! 
Nathan had two problems, having broken two major taboos.  They all knew
about one of them, but maybe Johnnie Sue didn't know about the other.

   "But why would she be jealous of Flossie?" he tried.  "We were just
kissing."

   It showed up the obvious problems with denial, obfuscation and
prevarication.  At least two of the females present knew exactly why she
would be jealous.  And, of course, he didn't know just how much they'd
seen. Johnnie Sue's comment about making a baby in Miss Flossie hadn't
quite penetrated.

   "She knows about us, Nathan," panted Hilda Mae, still struggling with
her sister.

   "Yeah, and if you ever try to kiss ME like that, just be ready to start
singing soprano," panted Johnnie Sue.  It seemed like the right thing to
say, even though what she wanted to do right now was see how many of her
fingers she could get inside her.

   "Ohhh shit," said Nathan, slumping.

   Bernadette kicked at him with one foot, and his mind adjusted.  He could
understand how she felt.  He felt the same way when she had told him what
she'd done with Curtis Lee.  He grabbed her foot when she tried to kick him
again, and leaned forward.

   "Stop it!" he said.  The wrestling didn't stop, but it slowed down a
little.  "Remember what you did when we were spooning for catfish!"

   Now Bernadette went limp.  Her shoulders started to shake, and she made
sniffling noises through her nose.  Hilda Mae slowly took her hand away, to
let her breathe.

   "It's not the same thing!" she moaned.  "All I did was suck him." She
stiffened.  "All I did was suck him, like I suck you.  And now that you've
gone and done that with Miss Flossie, you have to do it to me too!"

   Johnnie Sue moaned and let go of Bernadette's arms.  "Rich people are
just plum CRAZY!" she moaned.

   "We're not rich!" snapped Bernadette.  She turned back to her brother.
"You have to do that to me too." she said firmly.

   "I most certainly do not." he said just as firmly.  "You KNOW that what
we've been doing isn't right.  And that would be even worse!"

   "I don't CARE about that," she moaned.

   "Yes you do," he said soothingly.  He held out his arms to her and she
crawled into his embrace.  It was a surprisingly platonic embrace, for all
they were talking about.  He stroked her hair.  "You know we can't do that.
I shouldn't have done it with Flossie either.  I can't even tell you how it
happened.  One minute we were getting paint off of each other and the next
thing I knew we were ..." He stopped, then started again.  "What if I DID
get Flossie pregnant?  It will ruin everything!  And if YOU got pregnant
too ...  they'd probably put us all in jail or something."

   He was actually on a roll, though he didn't know it.  Everything he had
said had either mitigated his involvement with Flossie, at least in
Bernadette's mind, or made plain sense.  Had he stopped there, she might
have calmed down.  But he didn't know, and he went on.  Like most men, he
kept talking when he should have shut up.

   "Besides, you're much too young for that kind of thing."

   She stiffened, pulled away, and then shoved him, scrambling to her feet.

   "We'll just see about THAT!" she snarled.  She started stalking off
toward home.

   "Ooooo shit," whispered Hilda Mae.

   "Well, I guess that makes it unanimous," sighed Johnnie Sue.

   ======================================

   They caught up with her before she got home, and reminded her that she
couldn't go there.  She huffed, and stomped, but had to admit they were
right.  Then she turned on her heel and said "Follow me!" When Nathan
started to follow too, she stopped and pointed at him.

   "Not you!" she said.  "If you aren't in your bed in the morning, Mamma
will have a hissy fit and lock you up.  And then I'll never find out what
it's like." What she was talking about was clear to them all.

   "Where are you going?" he asked, more or less meekly.  He knew he'd
stepped on it by now.

   "WE are going to the fire barn, where we will have a slumber party," she
said, her nose in the air.  "In the morning Hildy and I will come home and
get ready to go back to the Mansion." She stopped, her eyes going wide in
the dark and showing white.  Her hand went to her right pocket and she let
out a sigh of relief.  It was still there.  They had forgotten all about
the coins.

   "Hey!" said Johnnie Sue.  "We completely forgot about ..."

   "Never mind!" Bernadette cut her off.  "We can discuss that later."

   "Aren't you going to tell him about the ..." tried Johnnie Sue.

   "I SAID never mind!"

   "Tell me about what?" asked Nathan.

   Bernadette smiled at him.  "We have a secret.  A BIG secret.  An
IMPORTANT secret, that we are NOT going to tell YOU!  Let's just see how
YOU feel when you want something and somebody tells you you can't have it.
HAH!" she crowed, acting like the little girl Nathan had just accused her
of being.

   "You won't tell anybody ...  please?" he asked.  "About Flossie and me?
Please?" he begged.

   Bernadette looked at him.  He was so earnest, so vulnerable.  She loved
him so much she almost couldn't stand it.  She felt her heart breaking, and
the beautiful memory of what he and Miss Flossie had been sharing came back
to her.  It had looked so ...  special.

   "No, we won't tell," she said softly.  "Now, go on home, and try not to
wake them up when you go inside.  We'll talk about ...  all this other ...
tomorrow."

   "Thanks Bernie," he smiled, stepping toward her, his arms outstretched.
She wasn't completely over her funk, though, and she held up a hand.

   "If you try to kiss me right now I swear I'll scream bloody murder."

   He stopped, and his face fell.  Hilda Mae darted forward, put her hands
on his shoulders and kissed him quickly on the lips.

   "I still love you," she said, giggling.

   Johnnie Sue also darted forward and kissed him before he could react.

   "I do to," she simpered.  Then she started laughing.

   Nathan fled, and the girls walked to the fire barn, being as quiet as
they could.  If they messed up getting inside there, they had no place to
go and would have to stay outside all night.  They had to make one detour,
to get their suitcase and Johnnie Sue's other bag, that they had left
behind a tree when they went on their treasure hunt.

   ========================================

   The girls decided they'd break the news the next day when they got to
the mansion.  Events had drained them, and they pulled the single blanket
over their tired bodies.  Barely able to fit on the cot together, they fell
asleep.

   Nathan managed to enter the house and make it to his bedroom without
making any noise.  He sank into oblivion as soon as his head hit the
pillow. He didn't even get undressed.

   For once, he didn't dream.



   Chapter 30

   Nathan woke early, his alarm clock going off because he'd inadvertently
left it set.  He went out to the kitchen to find his mother puttering
around in the kitchen, and his father already gone.  His father left for
work early these days.  He had no way of knowing that, in during the day
before, his mother had had ample time to reflect on the things she had seen
and heard recently.

   "You got in late," said his mother, casually, her back still facing him.

   "I checked in on Miss Flossie," he said, stretching.  "She's doing much
better."

   She finally turned and glanced at him.  "You slept in your clothes?" she
observed.

   He looked down at his rumpled clothing.

   "I guess I did," he said helplessly.

   "Your sisters are at a slumber party," she said.

   He almost said "I know" but cut it off, changing it to "I ...  'm
hungry. Anything to eat?"

   "Of course," she said.  "It's a good thing your sister's weren't here to
hear you come in at one in the morning," she said calmly.

   "Oh," he said, trying not to flush.  "Sorry if I woke you up.  I fell
asleep over there.  Her ...  um ...  chair is real comfortable."

   "Are you going to take that job in Kansas City?" she asked, standing at
the stove, her back to him.

   "I don't know," he said, concerned that she'd go off on another tantrum.

   "It might be best if you did," said his mother.  She turned around, and
her eyes were shining.

   Nathan got up and went to her.  She hugged him tightly and sniffed.

   "I don't have to go," he said, not comprehending that radar that mothers
have, and the keen hearing that goes with it.

   "I smell her on you," she said into his chest.  She looked up at him. 
"I love you, Nathan.  I love you more than life itself, but you're turning
into a man.  I don't understand all this," she cried.

   "Don't cry, Mamma ...  it's all right," said Nathan haltingly.

   "No, it's not," she said, pushing him away, but holding on to his
elbows. "I know what a woman can feel for a man.  Your father has his
problems, but I love him, so I know how she can love you.  I don't
understand how you can love her, but I know you do, and you're my baby, and
I will find a way to understand, but your father will never accept it."

   "Mamma," Nathan pleaded, off balance.  He had too many secrets to keep,
and he didn't know which one she knew about, or how she knew.  "you're
talking crazy!"

   Her sniffling subsided, and she looked at him with something like pride
in her eyes.  "I've always been able to read you like a book, young man. 
I've heard how you talk about her.  I had a crush on one of my teachers
when I was a girl, and, when I heard that in your voice, I thought it was
just that.  But she called your name the other night.  I heard the need in
her voice.  And I saw how you acted when Harvey hurt her.  I DON'T
understand, but at the same time I DO!  Does that make any sense?"

   She pushed him away, and into a chair, returning to the stove.

   "It's all wrong, you know.  Nothing good can possibly come of it." Now
she was talking like a mother lecturing her child when she knows that
lecture will do no good whatsoever, but feels some impulse to deliver it
anyway.  "She's much too old for you, little slip of a girl that she looks.
And no one will ever let you be happy together.  Certainly not around
here."

   She served him and then sat down and began eating with her fingers, off
his plate.

   "But if you went off to Kansas City, you might have a chance.  A slim
chance, but maybe a chance.  Lord knows the world is changing.  I can't
keep up with it all myself.  Further North would be better."

   "Mamma," Nathan pleaded.  First her knowing ...  somehow just knowing
... was bad enough, but to hear her actually encouraging him was just
incomprehensible.

   "I doubt I'll ever get to see my grandbabies.  Harvey must never know,
of course.  He'd have a stroke if he looked at a little cream colored baby
and found out it was yours."

   "Mamma, I haven't asked her to MARRY me!" he yelped.

   "Well, you'd better.  I'll not have my son living in sin.  Carrying on
with a colored woman is bad enough.  At least make an honest woman out of
her."

   "How do you KNOW all this?" he asked helplessly.

   "I'm your mother!" she said shortly.  "Did you really think you could
keep such a secret from me?"

   She hadn't said anything about his sisters, so maybe he COULD keep a
secret from her.  He stopped thinking about them, just in case, and thought
about Flossie.

   "She'd never accept anyway," said Nathan.  "I don't have a job yet, even
if they said I will.  And she's the teacher here."

   Marian looked at him sadly.  "What your father did ...  it can't die
there.  He won't let it.  He's acting so strangely ...  almost like he's
afraid.  One of them is going to have to go, and he'll fight hard not to be
the one.  This is his last chance, Nathan.  If he can't make it here, he'll
be out of a job.  We didn't tell you, when we came, but that's the long and
short of it.  And don't think that the town won't find out what he did. 
They will.  And with the both of them here ...  it just wouldn't work."

   She took a piece of bacon from his plate, munched on it, and then got up
to get him more before sitting down.

   "Take her away from here, Nathan.  She loves you, and if I don't miss my
mark you have strong feelings for her too.  Get her out of here, up North
somewhere.  She's a good woman.  I never in all my life thought I'd say
that about a colored woman who was in love with my only son, but there it
is.  Take her somewhere where the two of you can be happy."

   "I can't believe this," Nathan said, gaping.

   "You're almost a man, Nathan.  You'd better start learning now to
believe.  Belief ...  and faith ...  those are the things that will get you
through the hard places in life."

   "I don't know what to say," he said.

   "Just tell me you'll try to be happy.  If you do this, it won't be easy
for you.  Your father ...  he's not the only one like that."

   "I know that.  She does too.  She tried to stop ..."

   "Do your sisters know?" she asked, cutting him off.

   He had to be careful now.  This was getting too close to the secret he
KNEW his mother would never accept.  "I think they at least suspect."

   "You'll have to explain it to them," she said.  "Unless you get her out
of here secretly.  That would be best anyway.  The longer no one knows, the
better." She looked at him narrowly.  "You want me to talk to them?"

   "No!" he said quickly.  "They'd never believe you.  I'll do it."

   "My little boy, all grown up," she sighed.  Her eyes got wet again. 
"Now off with you to whatever you all are doing when you're pretending to
be at school."

   He got up, leaving the rest of his food on the plate.  His head was
spinning, and he thought it best to leave before things came undone.  It
was at that moment that the girls stampeded through the front door.

   "HURRY UP, NATHAN," squealed Bernadette, like nothing at all had
happened the night before.  "We have to get to SCHOOL!"

   "What about breakfast?" Marian objected.

   "Mrs.  Thorpe fed us," chimed in Hilda Mae, looking at Nathan's plate.

   "Change your clothes then," said Marian, her hands on her hips.  "At
least give me time to pack you a lunch!  Don't you want me to drive you? 
It's too soon for that woman to be working again.  I should have a word
with her!"

   "Mamma!" said Bernadette.  "Of COURSE she's not working.  We're taking
care of things while she's gone ...  teaching the little ones." She looked
confident, despite her bald-faced lie.  "Besides, it's a BEAUTIFUL day!"
she called out.  "We'll ride our bikes."

   ========================================

   The girls didn't give their mother time to do anything other than pack a
lunch.  They hopped on their bikes, urging Nathan to hurry and follow them.
He waited until they were outside of town, and then asked.

   "What's going on?"

   Bernadette whirled, stopping.  "Why big brother, whatever are you
talking about.  We're going to school ...  aren't we?" She smiled gaily at
him.  Hilda Mae rolled her eyes.

   "What happened last night?" he asked suspiciously.  "Aren't you still
mad at me?"

   "Oh!  That?" She dimpled at him.  "I forgive you," she added brightly.
She got off her bike, came to him and crushed him in an embrace, kissing
him soundly.  She also rubbed her breasts and loins against his side and
hip as he straddled his bike.  She broke the kiss, looking at him through
her long lashes.  "But you're going to do that with me.  That hasn't
changed."

   "Bernie!" he moaned.

   "But that's for later!" she said, pushing him away.  "We have to HURRY!"

   ======================================

   The girls - all three of them, once they were assembled - continued in
the same vein, urging the boys to hurry up and get to the mansion, but not
saying why they were so excited.  They couldn't go together, of course, and
again broke up into small groups to make the trip, meeting up in the woods
before approaching the house.  This, again, was at the insistence of the
girls.  Jesse was the first one to enter the house, and he stopped short.
He leaned over and held up Johnnie Sue's bag, along with the hammer and
chisel they'd completely forgotten about in their excitement the night
before.

   "Somebody's been here!" he gasped.

   "That was us," Johnnie Sue announced, unable to keep it in.

   "Who?" asked Luthor.

   "US!" she shouted, pointing to the other two girls.  "We came here last
night, and Nancy Drew would have been PROUD of us!" she crowed.

   "Why'd you do that?" asked Moses.

   "We ..." Johnnie Sue paused for dramatic effect, "opened the box!"

   There was a babble of male voices, as the girls preened and strutted.

   "Well?" asked Jesse, almost hopping up and down.

   Bernadette reached into her pocket, making a big display of it.  She
brought her hand out, clenched around something.

   "This belongs to all of us," she announced gravely.  "Agreed?"

   The boys leaned forward, nodding mindlessly.

   Bernadette opened her hand, and the Double Eagle in it gleamed in the
morning sun.

   There was silence so complete that they could hear birds chirping. 
Jesse reached out, his hand tentatively hovering over the coin, and he
looked at Bernadette for permission.  She smiled and nodded, and he
snatched the coin to look at it.

   "WHOOOOPEEEEEE!" he yelled, dancing around holding the coin up.  "We're
RICH!"

   Curtis Lee slumped, as did Nathan.  Moses looked confused.

   "That's it?" Nathan's voice was dull.

   Curtis Lee wrestled the coin away from Jesse, who was still grinning and
hopping about.

   "It's a twenty dollar gold piece," he said, examining it.  "It's old,
maybe old enough that it's worth more than that."

   "Wow," said Nathan, his voice disgusted.  "That's almost three dollars
apiece." He looked daggers at his sister.  "This ...  is the big surprise?"

   "Not exactly," said Bernadette.  The cat that ate the canary had nothing
on her this day.  "There are a few more."

   Jesse stopped dancing, his eyes wide.  "Is there enough so that
everybody can have their own?" The hope in his eyes and voice was enough to
make Johnnie Sue laugh out loud.

   "How many more?" asked Curtis Lee cautiously.

   Bernadette looked at Hilda Mae and Johnnie Sue.  When they got up, they
had planned the whole unveiling, and had practiced, knowing that this
question would be asked sooner or later.  They came together and, on
Bernadette's mark, said in unison "Four hundred and thirty-six."

   =====================================

   There was disbelief at first.  That's a natural reaction to unexpected
and very welcome news.  Perhaps because Nathan had so recently run through
all the different reactions at breakfast that morning, he moved out of
disbelief and into cautious acceptance.  That morphed into wild glee, in
some cases, and almost catatonic sit-on-the-ground helplessness in a couple
of cases.  Then, of course, the boys stampeded down the stairs to see for
themselves.  Nathan had, in all the furor of what happened the night
before, forgotten his flashlight, but the girls had left the lantern there
too, and there were still some matches in the bag.  Once that was taken
care of, furniture flew until, full of his own adrenaline, Nathan hefted
the box by the handles and brought it out into the light of day.

   Paranoia set in instantly, just as it had the night before, and the boys
looked around intently, to make sure no one was coming.  That wasn't
enough, and Nathan insisted that Curtis Lee help him carry the chest out
into the woods before they actually opened it.  The girls followed,
grinning.

   Even in the woods, the pile of coins in the chest sparkled in the
dappled sunlight, and the boys stared, unmoving, for a full sixty seconds.
Almost as one, they fell to their knees, and reached into the box to make
sure that what they were seeing was real.

   Bernadette brought them back to earth.

   "Of course, we can't spend any of it.  Not like this."

   Four open mouths stared up at her.

   "If even one of these is shown in town, the grown-ups will go crazy. 
They'll make us tell where we got it, and at least one of us would end up
telling.  Then they'd take it all way from us."

   The logic of her words sank into them like cold steel.

   "Well what good is it then?" asked Luthor, anguish in his voice.

   "That's what we have to decide," said Bernadette.  "I didn't say it was
impossible.  We just have to go about turning this into spending money
carefully."

   "If I ever showed my Mamma more than ten dollars of ANY kind of money at
one time she'd know something was up," said Moses.  There were murmured "Me
too's" from them all.

   "I have an idea," said Nathan, suddenly.  "But you'll have to trust me."

   =======================================

   They didn't like his idea.  That gold was already burning a hole in
their pockets.  Most of them had been poor as dirt all their lives, and
visions of amazing things filled their imaginations.  But they also knew
that, if they didn't do things perfectly, they'd still be poor, and someone
else would have the gold.

   The plan involved two major requirements that nobody liked, but which
everyone agreed to.  The first was delayed gratification.  They couldn't
spend any of it right away.  The second was that only Nathan and one other
he didn't name, would know where the gold was, after it was moved to a new,
more secure hiding place.

   "Who?" asked Luthor.  "Who else will know?"

   "Curtis Lee," said Nathan.

   Curtis Lee looked at him.  "Why me?" he asked.

   "Because you and I will be keeping an eye on each other while we find a
place to turn that gold into money that won't raise so many questions."

   "Keeping an eye on each other." said Curtis Lee.  "Where?"

   Nathan smiled.  "Kansas City, Missouri.  Curtis Lee, my friend, you and
I are going to go to the Police Academy together, and be policemen in
Kansas City, Missouri."

   =============================================================

   There was another uproar, of course.  Other than his sisters, none of
them knew about the letter he had received, and this sounded like some
crazy scheme.  But, when Curtis Lee found out that the letter Nathan had
written had not specified his race, and that he had been welcome simply on
the basis of grades, a door opened that Curtis Lee would never have known
about, much less dreamed of going through.

   "And, when we we're through the academy, and we get situated, we'll be
able to sell some coins and bring the money back here," he said.

   "OK," said Jesse sadly.  "But now does that help us?  I mean if you give
me a hundred of my dollars, I still can't explain where I got it."

   "You can if you make something and sell it," said Nathan.

   "Make what?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "Who cares?" said Nathan.  "All you have to do is make something ... 
anything ...  art, sewing, carving, it doesn't matter.  You send it to us,
and we ...  sell it ...  up there in Kansas City, of course, and we send
you the money."

   They looked around at each other.  There were nods.  It could work.

   "I want to help my parents," said Moses.  "They work so hard.  They
could use some of that money."

   They talked about that for a while, and it was Johnnie Sue who said
something that brought the answer.  What she wanted to do was replace an
antiquated tool her father used.  There was a new one that would save a lot
of time, but he couldn't afford it.  He had to use the antique one instead.

   "Antique!" said Bernadette.  "I've seen whole stores that sell just
antiques.  They have to get them from somewhere.  That means they buy
them!"

   "But they won't give us enough for the old one to buy the new one," said
Johnnie Sue.

   "No," said Bernadette, smiling.  "But Nathan and Curtis Lee will."

   "What do we do with the stuff?" asked Nathan.

   "Who cares?" said Johnnie Sue.  "Sell it to some antique dealer
somewhere.  Or just throw it away once you leave town, and you won't have
to mess with it."

   "OK, OK," said Jesse.  "What happens when we get old enough to graduate,
like you?  What happens to the rest of our share?"

   "If you go somewhere else, then take your share with you," said Nathan.
"We're still going to have to be careful, even in a big city like Kansas
City.  We can't sell too much, too often.  People will start asking
questions."

   "What about if we stay here?" asked Jesse.

   "We'll still help you," said Nathan.  "We're going to be friends our
whole lives, aren't we?"

   So it was that the plan to convert the gold into paper money, albeit
slowly, was forged.  It was March, and Nathan and Curtis Lee would graduate
in late May.  No one knew how long they'd have to be in Missouri, before
they could start sending money back home.  They would only take ten Double
Eagles each with them.  The first time they came back, they would bring the
cash, and take more gold, along with the rifles and scopes.  Those could
not be hidden easily, nor was it a good idea to leave them in the root
cellar.  Curtis Lee and Nathan would have to live somewhere, though, and
the rifles could be stored there, until it could be determined what to do
with them.  It was assumed by them all that Nathan and Curtis Lee would
live together as roommates.

   With one, last longing look at the treasure, they closed the lid and
re-hid it, piling it over with junk and boards again, until Curtis Lee and
Nathan could come get it to move to its new hiding place, wherever that
would be.

   =========================================

   It was a festive group that made their way to the treehouse, where
additional platforms were nailed up.  They build five more, at various
levels in the tree.  Two were small single platforms, for solitary reading.
Three others were big enough to hold two, or perhaps three people at a
time. By the time they were done, it was mid afternoon.

   "We got time for swimming?" asked Moses.  Hilda Mae looked at him and
blushed.

   "There's ...  um ...  something I have to do," said Nathan.

   Bernadette looked over at him.  "I just bet there is," she said, in a
droll voice.

   "But before I go, I have to talk to the guys," said Nathan, frowning at
Bernadette.  "Privately," he added.

   "Well, you boys just stay here and talk all you want.  Us girls are
going to go get naked!" Bernadette smiled at Nathan, and stuck her tongue
out at him.

   =====================================

   Nathan waited until the girls walked off toward the creek.  Then he
turned to the others.

   "We're all friends ...  right?  I mean I know I kind of a jerk when I
first got here ...  but now we're friends, I hope."

   They looked at him expectantly and nodded.

   "Well, I hope so, because I'm going to trust all of you with my life."

   He looked at them, but couldn't tell what they were thinking.

   "There's something I have to tell you about," he said.  "It's important,
or I wouldn't say anything.  But there's trouble ahead if I don't.  I need
you to swear you won't talk about it once I tell you."

   This sounded like serious business.  There had been a lot of serious
business lately.  They nodded, serious looks on their faces.

   There are many things a young man may tell other young men about, with
little uproar.  That you've had sex with their teacher is not one of them.

   He didn't just blurt it all out.  He explained about how he had helped
her paint, and spent time talking to her, and that he liked her.  They
nodded.  They understood that, because they liked Flossie too.  There were
a few comments about how Nathan had reacted to Flossie when he first got
there.  He acknowledged them, but simply said things had changed.

   Then he told them about what his father had done.  They knew she had
been hurt, but not the details.  It shocked them all.  But that didn't hold
a candle to learning that, while taking care of her, things had gotten out
of control.  He approached that carefully too, asking them if they
remembered how things had kind of taken on a life of their own with Johnnie
Sue, or Hilda Mae, or Bernadette.  Again, there were serious nods.

   "Well ..." he said.  "That kind of happened to me too ...  except it was
with Miss Flossie."

   It took almost half an hour to work through that, as he tried to limit
the details about what they had done.  He used a lot of "like what you did
with her" thrown in there, referring to one or the other girls.  But he had
their full attention.  He kept it, telling how the girls had spied on he
and Flossie, and had seen them.  "We were ...  um ...  making love."

   "You mean REAL sex?" gasped Luthor.  "You and Miss Flossie?"

   "Yes," said Nathan, flushing.

   "Why are you telling us this?" asked Curtis Lee suddenly.  "If I had
done that with Miss Flossie I wouldn't tell anybody.  It's not right."

   "I had to tell you all that, because you wouldn't have believed me when
I tell you the next part." He looked around.  "But before I tell you that
part, I want you to know that, when I'm a real policeman, I'm going to ask
Flossie to marry me."

   That only took ten minutes to discuss, including the part where he had
to admit that he had no idea if she would accept a proposal when he made
one.

   Finally he got to the part he had kept them all here for.

   "See, here's the deal.  Johnnie Sue, and my sisters ...  they saw what
that's like, and they told me they want to try that too." He looked around.
"Except they don't have anybody waiting to marry them, and if they get
pregnant, it will ruin their lives."

   "So why are you telling this to us?" asked Jesse.

   "It's going to be you guys they try to get to have sex with them."

   Oddly enough, that wasn't so strange to the boys.

   "I kind of thought something like that was going to happen," said Curtis
Lee carefully.  "I was worried about it, some."

   That was the understatement of the century.  Curtis Lee had been almost
in agony.  Bernadette was SO forward, and SO willing to break taboos that
he knew it was only a matter of time before she'd spread her legs and pull
...  somebody ...  on top of her.  And, contrary to how we might think
about it these days, he didn't want it to be HIM she pulled on top of her.
Oh, he dreamed about it, and is biology wanted to breed her in the worst
way, but Curtis Lee was graced with intelligence, and, of them all, he knew
most vividly what messing around with a white girl would bring about.  He
had already done enough to be lynched, and he had no doubt in his mind
whatsoever what the outcome of sexual intercourse with Bernadette Wilson
would be, whether she got pregnant or not.  All it would take was one
little slip of the tongue, or one wrong touch in the view of any of a
myriad of adults, and the whole town would know.  Curtis Lee wouldn't have
a chance.

   He also knew that rebuffing her, after what had already happened, could
lead to a mad rage on her part that would result in the same thing.

   Curtis Lee was between a rock and a very hard place, and he knew it.

   "You worried about what I'd do?" asked Nathan, breaking Curtis Lee's
train of thought.

   "Some," admitted the young man.  "It's only natural that you wouldn't
want me to do that with your sister." Another thunderous understatement.

   "Well, you're right, but not for the reasons you might think," said
Nathan.  They all looked at him curiously.

   "The thing I'm thinking about most is my sisters with their bellies all
swollen up.  Johnnie Sue too.  It would just ruin them all.  And if that
happens, it will ruin you too.  Hell, if anybody else finds out me and
Flossie they'll probably ride me out of town on a rail!"

   "Both of you," said Luthor.  He wasn't smiling.

   "That's why I had to talk to you.  They're going to try to get you to do
that with them, sooner or later, and you HAVE to resist it somehow."

   "That's gonna be hard," said Luthor, thinking of Johnnie Sue, spread out
on the grass naked.

   "You're not telling me something I don't already know," said Nathan.  "I
didn't MEAN to do that with Flossie." He started to tell them how overjoyed
he was that it HAD happened, and then thought better of it.  "Things just
got carried away, like they already have with all of us."

   "So what are we supposed to do?" asked Curtis Lee.

   "We have to talk to them about it," said Nathan.  "You have to set them
down in front of you all and tell them that there's a limit to what you'll
do, and that you won't go past that limit."

   "What if you're wrong?" asked Moses.

   Nathan looked confused.  "What do you mean?"

   "Well ...  um ...  nobody," he said carefully "has asked me to actually
do that.  They might not even WANT to do that, and if I stand up in front
of her and tell her I WON'T do that ...  she might get real mad that I
thought she wanted to."

   Moses, even at the tender age of sixteen, which he now was, had already
figured out that sometimes, when dealing with a woman, a man can be wrong,
no matter WHAT he does.

   "Trust me," said Nathan.  "They're thinking about it." He couldn't tell
them that his own sister had already demanded that he take her virginity.
Telling them about Flossie was one thing.  Telling them about incest was
something else.  He might mention that to Curtis Lee later, privately, but
not to the other three.

   "Nathan?" It was Jesse's voice.  He was only twelve now, and he often
felt the difference in age.  What he had done with Johnnie Sue had dragged
him into a world that seemed strange and wonderful to him, but there was a
lot of it he didn't quite understand.

   "Can we all get to be policemen?  Up there in Missouri?"

   His question took Nathan by surprise.  He had seen getting Curtis Lee to
go with him as the answer to several problems.  It would separate him from
Bernadette, for one thing.  It would get them to go along with the plan for
the gold, for another.  And, if Bernadette was serious about him, which
Nathan now knew was quite possible, it would put him someplace where she
could come when she was old enough that would, like his mother had said,
give them at least a chance for happiness.

   "It seems to be mostly dependent on grades," he said.  "I don't know how
many policemen they need up there, but I'd guess that all of you might have
a chance.  Why?"

   "I was just thinking," said the boy.  "If I could tell Johnnie Sue that
I wouldn't do that until I was a policeman, she might go along with it."

   "Hey, there's an idea," said Luthor, looking interested.  "I could do
that too!"

   "You can't both do that with Johnnie Sue," said Curtis Lee.  "You can't
both marry her." He was surprised at his own comment, not because he'd said
it, but because he had so blithely accepted the idea that Jesse might
eventually get married to a white girl.  That led him to think of
Bernadette, and his eyes got wide as he thought about ...  that.

   "Why not?" asked Jesse.  "We're blood brothers!  We do everything
together."

   "Have you EVER heard of a woman being married to two men at the same
time?" snorted Moses.

   "No," admitted Jesse.  "But I never heard of a white boy having sex with
a colored teacher neither!  If that can happen ...  why can't we be blood
brothers forever?"

   Nathan held up his hand, recognizing that this was an argument that
couldn't be settled, at least not this day.

   "Actually, I think that's a pretty good plan.  I mean if she'd consider
marrying either of you, it might convince her to wait."

   "I could do the same thing," said Curtis Lee.

   Nathan looked at him.  "Even with only a few months left, that's still
going to be hard.  Trust me."

   Curtis Lee felt his prick begin to stiffen.  Bernadette was any man's
dream, and the way she was accepting and soft with him brought on the exact
response that nature had intended.  The ancient mating ritual of the woman
trying to attract the man still worked flawlessly, despite societal
conventions that might try to stop it.  That she might want him, made him
want her.  He swallowed.  Nathan was right.  It WOULD be hard ...  in more
ways than one.

   "How about you, Moses?" asked Nathan.  "You want to be a policeman too?"

   "I'll say so, like the rest," said Moses, "but I'll have to talk to
Curtis Lee after he's done it a while before I make up my mind."

   There wasn't anything else to talk about, except when to have this
"little talk" with the girls.  Nathan suggested they do it now.  The girls
were waiting, naked and horny, and they all knew that.  What better time to
lay down the rules?  And then Nathan wouldn't feel like he had to stay
there to chaperone.  He could go see Flossie.

   Chapter 31

   It has to be said that the boys didn't quite know what to expect from
the girls, in the showdown about having sex ...  or perhaps NOT having sex.
The reaction they got was remarkably sublime, all things considered.

   Nathan spoke for them.  It was a singularly odd looking convocation,
with three girls sitting on the grass, naked and dripping, since they had
already gone in the water, and five boys standing in front of them fully
clothed.

   Nathan explained it in much the same way he had to the boys, but with
different words.  He said that they all now knew that the girls might be
tempted to let the boys go too far, and that they all knew what the
consequences of that would be.  He didn't say "could get pregnant" ...  he
said "WOULD get pregnant." In fact, he used the word "pregnant" at least a
dozen times in his explanation about how they had all decided to become
policemen, and that, until that time, none of them would be willing to
chance making any of the girls pregnant.  It was pretty impressive in the
sense that the boys presented a united front.

   He only made one mistake.  In addition to using the word "pregnant" a
dozen or more times, he unconsciously attributed the boys' reluctance to
chance such pregnancy on the word "Love".  He basically told the three
girls that the boys loved them too much to do that.  Also a dozen times or
more.

   Whether the girls had discussed the possibility of facing a united front
or not, we don't know.  They never said anything about that.  What the
girls presented, however, was also a front that was united.  Bernadette
spoke for them.

   "Well, that's all wonderful," she said.  "But we know how it feels to
want something, and we're going to keep wanting it.  It's kind of like that
gold.  How would you feel if somebody told you it would be YEARS before you
could spend any of it?"

   There was an uncomfortable shuffling amongst the men.

   "Here's what I think," she went on.  "If I want to do that, then whoever
I want to do it with is going to have to make me feel so good, and make me
so happy, that I don't want to do it any more."

   "How are we going to do that?" asked Nathan, frustrated.

   "You're going to have to do anything else I want, until I decide we're
done." There were murmurs of assent from the other two girls.

   Basically, she and her two female compatriots did what women have done
for centuries.  They called the shots, and used their sexuality to enforce
it.

   An ...  agreement, of sorts ...  had been forged.  Nathan felt more
comfortable leaving them, which was what he wanted to do.  Bernadette
called out to him as he was leaving, and walked over to him.  He couldn't
help but watch the slight bouncing of her breasts, and glance at the auburn
hair that fluffed above her sex, glittering with sun-lit drops of water. 
That she saw him looking and smiled, didn't help it made his eyes slide up
to her face.  She stood in front of him.

   "I can live with the rest, but you are going to make love to me before
you leave home." Her smile never wavered.  "You just remember that."

   Her comment was so calm, and so firm, that Nathan almost flinched.

   "You should save that for the man you love," he said softly.

   "I am," she said.  "I know I can't marry you, but I'll always love you
and I want you to be my first." She licked her lips.  "You'd better hurry,
though, because you're not the only man I love who's leaving town.  That's
your fault too."

   "Don't make him do that, Bernie," said Nathan intensely.  "I know you
probably can, but don't do that to him.  Let him get situated someplace
where the two of you have a chance."

   "Just once, Nathan." The look in her eye was almost pleading.  "Just
once before you go off and marry Miss Flossie, and I can't have you any
more."

   "Will you leave Curtis Lee alone if I do?" he asked, his mouth dry.

   "I'll try a lot harder," she answered truthfully.

   "I'll think about it.  You just behave yourself with him until then."

   "OK," she said meekly.

   ========================================

   Behaving herself with Curtis Lee, as far as Bernadette was concerned,
meant keeping his penis out of her pussy.  That was all.  And that part
wasn't really so hard, at least not right now.  While she and the other
girls had thought about things a lot, even more since seeing it being done,
they still had all the normal fears and tensions associated with losing
one's virginity.  They were just as aware of the danger of pregnancy as
Nathan was.  Hadn't they all gotten together and discussed exactly when
would be the right and wrong times to let a boy do that?  Didn't they know
that they needed to be right between periods ...  wasn't that the best time
to make sure no sperm got hear an egg?  After all, they way they understood
things, an egg dropped, and if it wasn't fertilized ...  they had a period.
So the time not to have sex was right around their periods.  Right?

   So often does having incomplete information about something ...  cause
problems.

   But for now, at least, the girls were willing to delay yet another
gratification ...  at least for a while.  While Nathan walked to see Miss
Flossie ...  they would do all the other things that were safe.

   Swimming, this time, was just foreplay.  There was no roughhousing.  The
blood brothers gravitated to each other as easily as Moses gravitated to
Hilda Mae.  Bernadette went from talking to Nathan, to kissing Curtis Lee
right in front of the others.  He resisted for two kisses, saying "Not in
front of them!" Her answer to that was to pull him from the water, pick up
his clothes and hers, and take him back to the treehouse.

   They didn't make it past the first platform, before she pushed him to
his back, straddled his face, fisted his stiff prick, and said "Do you
really love me?"

   Curtis Lee looked up at her pussy, already dripping again, even though
they had been out of the water for five minutes.  "I tried not to, but it
isn't working very well," he sighed.

   She kissed the tip of his long black penis, so slim, that would reach
way up inside her where she just knew it would feel fabulous.

   "Make me not want this thing in my pussy."

   He was working hard at that, when Hilda Mae and Moses climbed past them
to a platform ten feet higher, where the scene was virtually repeated.

   Johnnie Sue despite her wish to avoid chiggers, elected to use the
grass, now that she and her blood brothers were alone.  She was too horny
to wait until they got to the tree house.  She demanded a sperm bath, and
got it, rubbing it joyously into her skin.  Then she demanded each of them
give her an an orgasm.  She drank them down next, and lay back for more. 
She was satisfied with their tongues on her clitty, and their fingers in
her pussy, digging deep to touch that special place only their longer
fingers could reach that thrilled her so much.

   ========================================

   Flossie was sitting outside, under a tree, reading a book when Nathan
sauntered into the yard.  She looked up with troubled eyes.

   "I was afraid I'd see you today," she said quietly.

   "Afraid?" he said, standing, loose limbed.  She looked so good, even
with her face still slightly swollen, and almost bald spots on her scalp.
The scab on her lip had softened with repeated applications of salve, and
didn't show much, with light pink skin showing under it.  It reminded him
of the pink he had glimpsed between her legs last night.

   "Nathan, I know how I acted last night.  But we can't do that again.  It
just won't work."

   "My mother knows about us." he said simply.

   "What?!"

   "When I went home last night, I thought I was quiet and didn't wake
anyone, but she heard me ...  looked at the clock, I guess.  I fell asleep
in my clothes.  She said she smelled you on them."

   "Ohhh Nathan," she said, great sadness in her voice.

   "You don't understand!" he said.  "I guess I don't either, really, but
she already knew, even before that.  She said she heard it in your voice,
and saw it in my eyes."

   "What will we do?" asked Flossie, her eyes wetting up.  Her worst fears
were coming to fruition.

   "She told me to ask you to marry me," he said, holding his breath.

   She looked up, confused.  "What?"

   "She told me we couldn't be happy here, but that when I'm a policeman,
if I took you North with me ...  we might be able to be happy."

   "YOUR mother?" gasped Flossie.

   "My mother," he said.  "I couldn't believe it myself.  But she was
sitting right next to me at the table, eating off of my plate.  She acted
like she'd expected it."

   "Your father?" there was fear in his voice.

   "He doesn't know, and she won't tell him.  She says he must never know
...  that she'll never see her grandbabies ...  but that she remembers what
it was like to fall in love."

   "That's just ...  ridiculous!" said Flossie, sounding worried.

   "Oh," said Nathan, crushed.  "It's OK.  I know I'm just a kid."

   Flossie wrenched her mind away from suspicious thoughts that Marian,
despite her kindness, must be up to something.  The tone in his voice
wailed in her ears.

   "Nathan, it's not that.  You ARE a man, a strong, intelligent man.  And
you made me feel like a woman last night.  Any woman would dream of having
that in a man.  But marriage?  We can't get married!  That just doesn't
happen!"

   "So you don't want to marry me." It was a statement, rather than a
question.

   She started to go to him, and stopped.  They were in public.  Taking him
into the house was dangerous, on several levels.  When he was just painting
and talking, it hadn't seemed quite so dangerous.  But she knew what she'd
feel if she took him into private.  She'd felt it instantly when she first
saw him.  Private, with this man, was dangerous.  But she had to make him
understand that she wasn't rejecting HIM.  She had to explain why it
couldn't happen.  As dangerous as it was to take him inside, she had to.

   "Come inside with me," she said.  "We need to talk."

   She didn't take his hand, though she itched to.  She kept a respectable
two or three feet from him as she led him to the front door.  She was just
reaching for the knob, when a distant "Yooo Hoooo" was called.

   They turned to see Marian Wilson, scurrying toward them, a picnic basket
on her arm.

   ======================================

   Flossie waited, her heart sinking.  But the picnic basket made her
pause.

   "I'm so glad you're home," said Marian as she hurried up, puffing
slightly.  "Nathan," she said, acknowledging him, but nothing more.  She
ignored him and turned to Flossie.  "How are you feeling?"

   "Much better," said Flossie, automatically.  "The pains are mostly gone
now, or just sore."

   "Well, I wanted to check on you, and since I was coming I thought I'd
bring along some leftovers from lunch.  I hope you haven't eaten already.
It seems the children have been out gallivanting about.  None of them came
home for lunch."

   "Maybe that's why I'm hungry," said Nathan, putting just a toe in the
verbal water.

   "Well, I only brought enough for two," said his mother.  "You missed
lunch, young man.  There's more in the ice box at home." Her hint that he
should go there was clear.

   "OK, Mamma," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.  He was plainly
loathe to leave, but he was also loathe to defy his mother.

   She smiled.  "I completely forgot.  I made a chocolate cake this
morning. Would you be so kind as to bring some with you when you come
back?"

   The relief on his face shone in his smile.  "Yes Ma'am!" The tension he
felt caused him to leap away, in a full out run.

   Flossie was still wary.  The woman had done nothing but be civil. 
Nathan really believed what he had told her, but she was also aware that
intent, during a conversation, could be misunderstood, and she thought
that's what had happened.  In a way, she was glad his mother was here. 
Talking with her face to face would let her see the woman's eyes, and
hands. Both of those things often said much more than mere words.

   "You're too kind," said Flossie.

   "Yes, I suppose I am," said Marian, the hint of a frown on her face. 
"But, events proceed, whether we're kind or not.  Did he tell you yet?"

   This was very direct.  Flossie was not used to someone being quite this
direct.  It was also clear that she assumed Nathan HAD told her about their
conversation at breakfast.  That was the only thing she could be referring
to.  Suddenly Flossie realized that she was being evaluated, and not just
as a teacher, or another adult, or even as a Negro.  Marian's direct gaze
and plain speech signified that she was looking for reaction in Flossie,
and would evaluate every nuance of what was about to happen.

   "Yes, he did.  I must say I was astonished."

   Marian smiled a tight smile.  "No more than I was.  I had been worrying
about it for a while, but didn't actually mean to speak to him.  I think it
took us both by surprise."

   "Surprise ...  is not an adequate word, I think," said Flossie.  "Do you
want to come in, or shall we dine out here?"

   "Dine," said Marian.  "Such an elegant word, for a poor place like
this." She waved her hand at the rest of the town, rather than at the
squalid house she was being invited into.  "Let's go inside.  I'm already
pushing things far beyond convention.  I suppose it would be better if I
weren't seen sitting outside with you."

   Again, her forthright speech was almost unsettling, as she acknowledged
what Flossie was just beginning to dare to hope for, and the social chasm
that should demand exactly the opposite.

   Flossie led her to the table and pulled out two chairs, side by side. 
Marian unpacked the basket, including two pieces of chocolate cake.

   "Goodness me," she said calmly.  "My memory must be fading with age."

   "You always get what you want, don't you?" asked Flossie, smiling.

   "Nearly," said Marian, not reacting to the gentle barb.  "Sometimes it's
a bit more of a challenge than at other times.  I wanted to get out of
Atlanta, for instance, but I surely didn't plan on landing in any place
like Catfish Hollow."

   She put a plate in front of each seat and waited for Flossie to sit
before she did.

   "Now, though, I suppose that was Providence.  The Lord does work in
mysterious ways.  I can tell you that!  He provides what we need ...  want
...  even when we don't know what that is ourselves."

   Flossie decided on some plain speech of her own.

   "How could you possibly want ...  this?" she asked, hedging at the last
second.  Plain speech wasn't as easy as just deciding to do it.

   Marian snorted.  "I have NO Earthly idea.  It's crazy, pure and simple.
There's no rhyme or reason to it that I can see." She picked up a piece of
fried chicken with her fingers, but stopped with it halfway to her mouth.

   "Do you love him?"

   Flossie reeled.  It was true!  The woman knew!  And she wasn't outraged,
or threatening.  She had brought lunch!

   "I believe I do," she said softly.

   "Just believe?" Marian bit into the chicken.

   Flossie decided she could speak plainly after all, even if she couldn't
eat anything to save her life right now.

   "How could I let myself feel that?" she asked.  "We both know it's wrong
...  could only end in disaster."

   "You're speaking common sense," said Marian after she chewed and
swallowed.  "We also both know that love doesn't have anything to do with
common sense."

   "How can I say that to you?" asked Flossie.

   "Just tell me what's in your heart," said Marian.  "Do you LOVE him?"

   "YES!" gasped Flossie, forcing it out.  She tensed as Marian put the
chicken down and wiped her fingers on one of the linen napkins she had
brought along.  Her hand moved to Flossie's, which was in her lap.

   "Then be happy," she said softly.  "As happy as you CAN be.  Finding any
happiness at all is hard enough."

   "But he's so young!" moaned Flossie.  "And he's white, and even up North
there will be people who will hate us!"

   "Let me tell you a story," said Marian.  "It will be short, because I
expect the man we both love won't dilly dally around at home." She sat back
in the chair, her plate forgotten.

   "Harvey wasn't the first man I loved.  There was another, named Phillip.
His father worked with wood, though, which wasn't good enough for my
father, and he forbade me from seeing Phillip.  I was crushed.  I even
packed a bag to run away, but didn't have the courage.  Then, months later,
I met Harvey, who was apprenticed to a banker.  That, my father could
accept.  It didn't matter how I felt about it.  Don't take me wrong.  I
learned to love Harvey, and he gave me three wonderful children.  I
wouldn't have them, if it weren't for Harvey, because some of him is in
each of them, and makes them who they are."

   She sighed.

   "But I STILL feel things for Phillip.  I don't know what happened to
him, but sometimes I long to have been with him all these years.  It's
silly, because there's no way to know how things would have turned out, but
I still wish sometimes ..."

   She frowned.  "I punish myself for that.  When it happens ...  well ...
I won't go into that, but it has made me a woman I do not always respect."

   She leaned forward.  "Don't put yourself in the same situation.  Don't
always wonder what it might have been like.  Live it instead!  That I don't
understand it isn't important.  That others won't approve isn't important.
If you love him ...  if you really love him ...  then have the courage to
do whatever it takes to cherish and hold that love."

   Flossie sat, stunned.

   "I have to ask you something," said Marian, taking her hand away.

   "Anything," said Flossie, meaning it.

   "Did you suggest writing to police departments just to get him away from
here?  To make it possible for the two of you to ...?"

   The shock on Flossie's face answered for her, but she didn't know that.

   "Mrs.  Wilson, it was just a homework assignment.  He was frustrated. 
They all were, wondering about their futures.  I only intended that he
explore things that he might not have thought about.  I didn't feel
anything at all for him then.  I don't even know HOW I came to feel that
way about him!"

   "Thank you," said Marian.  "Providence, I can accept.  If you were
trying to steal him from me ...  I don't know how I'd react."

   "I'm not stealing him from you," said Flossie urgently.  "He loves you!
He'll always be your son."

   Marian's eyes filled up and she wiped at them with the napkin.

   "That may not be possible ...  not with him loving you." Tears spilled
over her cheeks.  "I'm sorry.  I should go.  He'll be back soon." She
stood. "Perhaps he could bring the basket back."

   "Must you leave?" begged Flossie.  "If you need to talk ..."

   Marian picked up the napkin, wiped her eyes once more, and then blew her
nose into it.  She folded it up and kept it in her hand.

   "I would like that," she said.  "But it would be too dangerous.  I don't
even know if I'll be able to see you again before Nathan ..."

   She went to Flossie and hugged her fiercely.

   "Go with him.  Be happy with him.  I won't be able to see my
grandbabies, but have lots of them for me, please?"

   She pushed back, and stepped toward the door.

   "From now on, please call me Marian," she said.  "In private, of
course," she added.

   Flossie didn't frown.  It was a game they were both playing, and now it
was a high stakes game.

   "I'd like that, Marian," she said.

   "Thank you." She turned to go, and when she reached the door she stopped
again.  "And please, if at all possible ...  wait to start having those
grandbabies until after you're married?"

   With great dignity, she left, closing the door behind her.

   ======================================

   Flossie was still sitting at the table, her food still untouched, when
Nathan burst through the door.  He was panting, and had a hand towel in his
hanging in his hand.  If there was cake in it, it was the worse for wear.

   "I saw Mamma on my way back," he gasped.  "She wouldn't tell me what
happened.  She said we ...  you and I ...  would have things to talk
about."

   "We do," said Flossie, her eyes shining.

   Chapter 32

   There wasn't much talk.  Not initially anyway.  When Flossie rose,
proper Flossie had been banished into a place where she could no longer be
heard.  Wanton Flossie was all that was left.  She took him straight to her
bedroom.  She began unbuttoning his shirt, smoothing it back off his
shoulders, and drank in the view of his chest.

   He tried to speak, but she shushed him each time.  When he was down to
his jeans, she took her dress off.  She was wearing her bra this day, and
she turned mutely to present the back to him, with its catch.  There was a
pause, as he realized what she wanted, and then he fumbled with it,
learning about the hooks in the process.  She unbuckled his belt, and undid
the top button of his jeans, and then stepped back to bend over and step
out of her panties.

   Then she waited.

   His eyes drank her in, and she felt proud that she could bring that look
to his eyes.  He licked his lips, and she felt like she could hear his
heart beating in his chest ...  faster and faster ...  in time with her
own.

   He finally realized she was waiting for him, and he took off his shoes
and socks, and then stepped out of his jeans.  His jockey shorts bulged. 
She stepped forward and knelt to draw them down, to expose what she needed
so desperately now.  For the first time, she took the time to examine it.
To touch it gently, and explore.  It was magnificent.  She could believe
easily the pressure and pain she had felt.  She hoped there wouldn't be as
much this time.  She no longer felt guilty ...  no longer needed to punish
herself.  She felt free for the first time in her life.

   She kissed it, this fabulous thing she was allowed to love, part of the
man she was allowed to love.  His sisters had done this.  She wondered if
she could banish their memory, and then decided that it didn't matter.

   Nathan groaned as he watched his thick, white penis begin to slide
between dark, wide lips.  His hands went to her head.  He was already about
to lose it.  "Flossie!" he gasped.  While Bernie and Hildy loved his taste,
he couldn't imagine a grown woman feeling the same way.

   Her hands came to his buttocks and she squeezed them, taking him deeper.
Then he saw her cheeks cave in as she sucked and began to pull off of him.

   "Flossie!" he warned.  "Oh FLOSSIE!" he moaned, as he felt relief flash
through his penis.

   That her mouth was now full of fluid didn't seem to make any difference
to her.  Her mouth continued to slide up and down his length as he released
all his semen.  It made a mess of his penis, and the corners of her lips as
it leaked out and began to run down her chin on both sides.  Finally she
pulled off of him, her lips pursed, a quizzical look on her face.  She had
felt this on her chest before, and it was warm, like she remembered.  That
it would happen she had accepted, not knowing what she would do when it
did. Now, she sensed more of an odor of musk, rather than a taste.  She
swallowed for lack of anything else to do, and decided that had been the
right thing to do.  She felt it running down her chin and scooped it with
two fingers up and into her mouth.  His penis drooped in front of her.  She
was a mess anyway, so she took him in again to suck him clean.  It felt
completely different this time.  There was resilience in the tube she
sucked, rather than the feel of velvet-covered wood.

   His hands lay lightly on her head still, as she looked up, his spend
still clearly visible on her chin and lips.  She remembered her shirt,
lying on the floor next to them, and picked it up to wipe her face.

   "Did I do that right?" she asked, looking up at him again.

   She expected his face to show relief, or maybe the relaxed glow of
happiness.  What she saw, though, was something much more vigorous ... 
something hungry ...  something dangerous.

   "Yes," he said, breathing deeply.  "And now there's something I want to
do for you."

   She stood to feel his hands grip her sides, and he lifted her like she
was weightless.  She let out a surprised yip as he swung her around and
laid her back on the bed.  His hands spread her legs apart, and before she
was ready his face was between her thighs, his nose pressed against her
curly hair.  His lips fastened onto her clitoris and she practically
swooned.

   It was SO fabulous that, when she came, she lost all control of her body
and flopped like a rag doll, crying huge tears of happiness.  When he
didn't stop, and she realized he was going to force her to feel that again
...  and that she COULD feel that again ...  her desire was so great that
it scared her and she tried to get away from him, her heels digging into
the bed and her hands propelling her away from him.  His hands went under
her buttocks as they raised and he lifted her, dragging her back toward
him, her feet dangling helplessly as he sucked and licked until she flopped
again.  His face STAYED there, and she knew she would lose control of her
mind if he did that again.'

   "PLEEEASE!" she wailed.

   Suddenly, it was gone.  She lifted her head to see him standing, one
hand slicking along his penis, which was again, wood and velvet.

   "Is this what you want?" he huffed.  The hungry look was still in his
eyes.  His face shone with her juices.  "Is this what you're asking for?"

   Had she been able to speak she would actually have said "No".  She
couldn't catch her breath.  She needed time to recover.  She couldn't even
keep her head up, and it flopped back to the bed.  She managed to get one
hand up to wave him away, but he saw it as a gesture of welcome.

   In a flash, he was on top of her, and before she could draw another
breath it was pushing into her again.

   He wasn't rough, exactly.  He wasn't gentle, like the first time he had
been on top either.  His desire was to feel her all around him, and when he
pushed in, he pushed in forcefully.  Once he felt the heat all around him,
he stopped, deep inside her, straining by instinct to get as deep as he
could.  His toes dug into the quilt, and he pushed hard, keeping the heat
all the way to his balls.  Quite by accident, when one of his toes lost
traction, he slid sideways a little.  That produced movement, which, along
with the heat, was even better.  It also crushed her clit, mashing it flat
as his pubic bone slid across it.  It was even more devastating than his
lips had been, and she exploded into a third orgasm that forced a high
keening "Eeeeeeee" from her lungs with the force of it.  Her teeth ground
together as her still sore lips stretched into a grimace of ecstasy.  It
was impossible to feel this good and not die, she thought, almost in
terror.

   But she didn't die.  And when movement won out over deep heat, he
stroked.  Now he was gentle.  The feel of her muscles pulling at him was
exquisite to him, and he savored moving out, and then back in slowly.  Her
clit reformed, tall and proud that it was able to do so.  She had a chance
to compose herself, as his prick only brushed it, now and then as he moved
within her.

   She knew she wouldn't die, now.  She knew that she could live through
that again, if she had to.  Burbling laughter seeped past her vocal chords
as she realized "if she had to" was completely wrong.  She suddenly
couldn't WAIT to feel that again, now that she had some breath back in her
body.  With that breath came strength, and her legs whipped up to slam down
on the back of his thighs.  Her arms went around him in an iron grip.  She
never wanted this to stop, and her hips began an instinctive rhythmic
motion, going up to meet his inward thrust, trying to make her clit go flat
again, and then falling away from him to get the strength to lurch upwards
again.

   She was so close, but she could only flatten her clit for that brief
second that they slammed together.  Her thrusts became harder, and her back
arched under her.  He sped up, his thrusts hitting her harder and she felt
that orgasm ...  just out of reach.  When he slammed into her and stayed
deep, she shrieked as she reached it, and every muscle in her body held him
there as she felt his warmth flow into her belly.  She couldn't decide
whether she liked the orgasm, or that warmth he was giving her more.

   ========================================

   Curtis Lee lay sprawled on wooden boards, leaves moving above him.  He
saw a white foot dangling off of a platform above him, and the toes and
arches of two black feet protruding off the perpendicular edge of the wood.
Moses was kneeling between Hilda Mae's thighs, he knew.  He could hear the
slurping.  He felt his balls lurch one last time as Bernadette swallowed
noisily, her mouth clamped around his prick.  He felt like he couldn't
move. This was the third time she'd done this, and he'd been completely
amazed that he could give her what he wanted even twice.

   She kissed her way up his belly, to his nipples, and then to his lips.
She kept going, dropping one round breast, with its tiny brown nipple to
the lips she had just kissed.

   "One more, and I'll be happy," she breathed as he suckled her gently.

   She got back into position, on top of him, and lowered her pussy down
onto his limp penis.  She had done this before, after he had licked and
sucked her to her first two orgasms.  He had already shot off once, but had
gotten half hard again while she writhed under his lips.  She had seen
that, and squatted over him.  He had watched as she spread her pussy lips,
and settled down to rub her clitty languidly against the long, soft thing
lying on his belly.  He had become alarmed when he got fully stiff again,
and she had rubbed herself to an orgasm, twice moving so far that the tip
of his prick dug into her.  But, after shuddering on top of him, she had
only gone down to suck him dry again.

   After resting, she had repeated the whole sequence.

   Now she was trying to do it again.  She rubbed, smiling, looking down
into his eyes.

   "It won't get hard again," he said.

   "What good are you, then?" she teased.

   "If you're not satisfied by now, I don't think I can satisfy you." He
smiled tiredly.

   "You could if it was way up inside me." She had a dreamy look on her
face.

   "You promised," he reminded her.

   "I know," she said.  She shuddered again, and he was amazed that she
could get that exquisite feeling while she was talking to him.  Her head
hung.  "A girl can dream, though, can't she?" she panted.

   There was a high pitched keening sound from up above, and the white leg
hanging over the platform waved in the air.

   "OK, OK, you can stop!" wailed Hilda Mae.

   There was the sound of flesh striking flesh, and a credible imitation of
Tarzan's yodel.  Hilda Mae's tinkling laughter came after.

   =======================================

   Nathan and Flossie lay limply, side by side on the bed.  Their fingers,
entwined, were all that touched each other.

   "We can't do that any more," panted Flossie, grinning.

   "Why not?" gasped Nathan.  "I liked it.  Didn't you like it?"

   "If you do that to me again I'll have a whole litter of babies," she
panted.  "I promised your mother I'd wait to give her grandbabies until
after we were married."

   He exploded up and onto his side, his face over hers.

   "You'll MARRY ME?!" he panted.

   "I have to now." She grinned.  "My litter will need a pappa."

   Nathan sobered.  "You're not pregnant, really ...  are you?"

   She laughed.  "I won't know for a while, but I think you're OK." She
pushed him back down.  "I can tell you one thing, though.  If you keep
doing that to me, I will be, and it will start showing long before we can
get in front of a judge."

   "You'll really marry me?" His voice sounded young.

   "Yes, I'll marry you." she said softly.

   She was astounded at his rejuvenative powers.  At least this time, she
convinced him to pull out of her and let her finish him with her mouth.

   ==================================

   School started up again the next morning.  The irony of the situation
was lost on Flossie, because Nathan had not told her that the older
children all knew about them.  She strove to act professional, and was
proud of Nathan when he acted like the same old Nathan.  He didn't touch
her and wasn't too casual with her.  He addressed her as "Miss Flossie".

   Part of the irony was that, because she didn't know that they knew, and
acted normally, that helped them view her like they normally would have,
even though they knew.  Nathan wasn't acting any different, and the kids
were used to acting like they didn't engage in wild, sexual almost-orgies
on a weekly basis.  Everybody but Flossie, and the younger children, of
course, were acting their parts, and they stayed in character perfectly.

   It was also somewhat ironic when Flossie found out Curtis Lee was also
interested in becoming a police officer.  She was elated, because it hit
her that it was the perfect solution for an intelligent young man in his
particular situation.  He'd have a chance at a good life, and get out of
Catfish Hollow, where he had no real future.  That he was thinking about
going WITH Nathan gave her pause.  When she eventually joined Nathan, he
would find out about them.  She thought she might be able to explain it to
him, particularly if he had a serious girlfriend by the time she got there.
That, she could worry about later.

   When she found out that her other three "older" male students were ALSO
determined to become policemen, and wanted to be sure that they would be
accepted by "The Kansas City Metropolitan Police Department", she was
suspicious at first.  Then she decided that it was just ordinary hero
worship.  She felt a pang of regret that she wouldn't be here to help them
in the coming years, when they actually had to face the future.  It looked
pretty dismal for them too.

   What she COULD do was teach them as much as possible before she left. 
It was entirely possible that she would be here one more year before the
time would be right for her to join Nathan.  It would be the hardest thing
she'd ever done to be apart from him that long, but if she had Luthor,
Moses and Jesse to get fully educated, she planned on losing herself in
that, instead of moping about Nathan.  She was determined that Bernadette
and Hilda Mae would be ready for college too.  They might not go, but they
would be ready if she had her way.

   Ruth Ann was late getting to school, and when she came in she looked
unsettled.

   "Miss Flossie, I have to leave school," she said, without preamble.

   "What's happened?" Flossie said, full of concern.

   "Lester Brown asked me to marry him," said the girl, her eyes wide.

   Lester Brown was a forty year old sharecropper, with three children. 
His wife, Wanda, had died of some illness almost a year ago.  No one knew
what it was.  Bo Tomkins, the self-trained doctor for Negroes in the area,
had tried to break her fever, but she had wasted away.

   "And you want to marry him?" asked Flossie.

   Ruth Ann smiled shyly.  "I like him," she said.  "And I'm good with
little ones," she added.

   Flossie saw the girl's future, a future of hard work, and poverty, with
too many mouths to feed, and aching muscles all the time.  Lester was a
decent man, though, and he would treat Ruth Ann well.  Still, it
punctuated, in her mind, that what Flossie was hoping for, and how vastly
better that would be than what Ruth Ann faced, was worth whatever it took
to bring it to pass.

   "I'm sure you'll be very happy.  I'm sad to lose you here, though. 
Can't you stay until graduation?  It's only two months."

   "He says he needs me now," said Ruth Ann.  She stood taller.  "He said
I'm pretty."

   And then she was gone.  The students' mood was depressed.  The little
ones loved Ruth Ann, because she read to them, and helped them with their
lessons.  The older ones began to see that there was an end to school, and
that the big wide world waited out there for them.  Their dreams of gold
couldn't make up for the fear of the unknown.  Now, one of their own was
gone into that unknown.  It was unsettling.

   At lunch, while Flossie was seeing the little ones off to home, there
was a quick meeting of those left.

   "I think I might want to buy something from Lester and Ruth Ann, when I
come to visit my Mamma," said Curtis Lee.  The others nodded.

   ========================================

   Flossie only had two months left in the school year, and she made the
most of it.  She announced that she would be late to school the next day,
and gave the older students the work for them to do with the younger ones
until she got there.  The next morning, she waited until she saw Harvey
moving around inside the bank, and then went to visit Marian.  She took a
laundry basket with her so that if she was seen, people would only think
she was earning extra money by doing white folk's laundry.  No one would
think a thing about that.

   Marian was surprised when she opened the door, but then smiled and
ushered Flossie in.

   "I need to use your phone," said Flossie, nervously.  "I need to find
out if there's an entrance exam for the police department up in Kansas
City."

   Marian's eyebrows went up, and then relaxed.

   "Of course!" she said, taking the laundry basket and putting it on a
chair.  "I should have thought of that."

   It was Marian who made the call, and asked the questions.  The woman she
talked to was very polite, and very helpful.  She even suggested that she
send a copy of the test so that her son could study for it.  Then Marian
went into mother-mode, getting all the information about what Nathan would
be responsible for when he got there, where he would stay, who he should
see when he got there, and a dozen other questions that no one else had
thought to ask.  It turned out that the next academy class wouldn't start
until early August.  The entrance exam would be administered six times over
a two week period before that.  If that was passed, and the physical exam
was passed, then a seat in the academy would be assigned.  Until then,
applicants were on their own for lodging and meals.

   After a quick hug, Flossie took the laundry basket and walked back home.
Then she walked to school.

   =======================================

   Homework increased to the point that fishing and other excuses to get
together had to slow down.  The girls complained, until the boys reminded
them that, if they became policemen, as planned, the girls might be invited
to visit them in Kansas City.  The complaints stopped.

   Besides, they still had Saturdays.

   ========================================

   Flossie started going fishing with them on Saturdays.  That was mostly
because it kept her and Nathan out of her house, where things tended to get
out of control quickly.  When they DID engage in heated sex, Nathan didn't
mind pulling out, and Flossie, by now, had found the same appreciation for
his semen that his sisters had.  A special treat was for them to take a
bath together, like they had that first night.  She loved to see his milky
white sperm, dripping down her ebony skin.  She found the same joy in using
it as a lotion that Johnnie Sue did.

   There were complaints, about her being there fishing with the rest of
them, of course.  They weren't made to Flossie, but to Nathan.  Miss
Flossie was cramping their style.  Why didn't he take Miss Flossie off
somewhere and make her too tired to want to keep fishing?  Nathan handled
it by taking her down stream, where they fished alone.  He talked her into
skinny-dipping once, reminding her that they were likely doing the same
thing upstream.  She giggled like a school girl at first, but they ended up
in a torrid embrace, and she kissed him over and over in the water,
suspended on the prick she loved until it erupted inside her.  After that
she wouldn't skinny dip any more.

   Then she worried out loud to Nathan.  What if the others were doing more
than skinny-dipping?  What if Johnnie Sue and her two blood brothers were
doing things more dangerous than they had once observed?  He finally had to
tell her about the agreement.  When she found out who Hilda Mae and
Bernadette were partnered with, she almost fainted.  She became almost
hysterical until Nathan convinced her that they had entered into a pact, as
a group, and that the future plans for becoming policemen was part of that
agreement.  He did not mention that the three girls had seen them making
love.

   What neither of them knew was that, while they were off alone, the
"agreement" had been strained.  Since Nathan hadn't been with them, control
had ...  slipped ...  somewhat.

   While he was assuring Flossie that intercourse was firmly banned, a
remarkably similar sequence of events had happened on three separate
platforms of the tree house.

   On the main level, were Johnnie Sue and her blood brothers.

   Two levels above them, were Hilda Mae and Moses.

   Two levels above them, were Bernadette and Curtis Lee.

   It wasn't surprising that things broke down first with Bernadette.  She
was engaged in one of her most favorite things, sliding her clitty along
Curtis Lee's long, thin and very stiff penis.  When she leaned forward and
arched her back, it put her vaginal sheath in perfect alignment with the
thing that suddenly slipped halfway inside her as she lurched backward.

   She froze, and Curtis Lee lifted his head, his eyes and mouth wide open.
Slim though he might be, his penis was still the size of three of her
fingers, and it had spread her apart painfully.  She reacted by pushing
with her thighs, and they both watched as his prick was pulled upright,
obviously planted inside her pussy.  It gave a popping slurp as she
continued to rise, and flopped down on his belly, whereupon it spurted like
crazy.

   Bernadette stared at the strings of white on his dark chest, and her
head dropped to stare at her pussy lips, which gleamed wetly.  To her
credit, she immediately imagined all that thick white stuff up inside her,
making babies right and left, and she scrambled off of him to sit down hard
on the platform.

   "Oh my GOSH!" she breathed.

   ========================================

   Two levels below them, Moses lifted his face from between Hilda Mae's
thighs.  He had become used to rubbing his face dry on her stomach, before
kissing his way up her body to her breasts, where he paused to make her
pant as he serviced each nipple, and then went to her lips, which he loved
kissing even more than the lips he had just left.  She lifted her blond
head to receive those kisses, but her orgasm had been too strong, and her
neck muscles wouldn't support her.  As her head began to fall back to the
boards, he inched up to keep the kiss going, and his thoroughly hard penis
nudged into her opening.  She went "Mmmmm" into his mouth, and her hips
gave a little lurch, and suddenly, the tip of Moses' prick was past the
remains of her hymen, through lips that popped tightly around the shaft
behind his glans.

   They too froze, their eyes popping open to stare at each other.  They
too looked down to see a dark spear penetrating pink lips.  In this case,
it was Moses who moved, jerking his prick out as it erupted, sending a long
stream of spunk up between her breasts, before sagging to make a mess of
her light blond pubic hair.

   "Oh nooooo," moaned Moses.

   ===================================

   On the main platform, it was no accident.  Johnnie Sue had long loved
the feel of warm semen on her skin.  She was intent on honoring her
agreement.  She knew she was much too young to have a baby.  She just
didn't grasp all the technicalities and dangers of what she liked.  She
knew two things.  She loved to rub slippery semen all over her breasts and
nipples, and she loved to rub it into the hair and slippery lips between
her legs.  She might not be able to have a penis inside her, and to be fair
to her, she didn't yet want one inside her.  At least not like Bernadette
did, and like Hilda Mae was beginning to.  She was quite content with
sucking her blood brothers, and swallowing their yummy spunk, and then,
after they gave her lovely sharp orgasms, getting one more by feeling that
spunk outside her body too.

   At present, she had accomplished goals one and two, and was about to
enjoy number three.  Jesse was assigned to give her something slippery to
rub onto her breasts, and Luthor was assigned to put it right next to her
pussy.  The boys played an unconscious game of trying to squirt at the same
time, so that Johnnie Sue would be covered all at once.  They were giving
each other unconscious verbal cues ...  little grunts and other sounds that
they recognized preceded ejaculation.  Johnnie Sue had found that it felt
really good for her clitty to be rubbed with the tip of his penis while it
was shooting all that warm slippery stuff, and Luthor was doing just that,
nosing the tip of his prick around in her swampy opening, when Jesse
painted her breasts.  Luthor speeded up, to join Jesse, and sighed as, with
the tip of his prick right in her opening, he squirted.  He leaned forward
just a little, not intentionally, and her pussy lips sealed around his
fountain of sperm.  She noticed the difference, because it felt warm and
wet INSIDE her, instead of on her pussy lips.  Her hand went down to rub
through his stuff, and bumped into his penis, knocking it out of her
opening.  He then painted her hand with two more spurts, which she happily
rubbed into her pussy.

   Again, he may as well have fucked her.  She had one and a half full
squirts inside her, and sperm were again swimming upstream, to enter her
womb.  She had no real concept of the millions of baby makers that were
deep in her belly.  How could they be way up there?  He had shot them all
with his penis outside her body.

   This time, there was an egg waiting.  It was penetrated, and began
immediately to prepare to form two cells from the one.  It had formed six
cells, and was trying to attach to the wall of her uterus, when she sat up
and climbed down the ladder to run back to the creek to wash off.  There,
water flowed up inside her and, when it drained back out, it carried the
fertilized egg with it before it could attach and keep growing.  Johnnie
Sue had stepped into the water a healthy, technically pregnant fourteen
year old.  She stepped out a healthy, fourteen year old girl who had just
lost a baby and didn't even know it.

   Chapter 33

   Supper that night, at the Wilson house, was quiet.  All three children
had a lot of homework to do.  Bernadette and Hilda Mae were quiet for other
reasons, though.  Both of them knew that disaster had very nearly struck,
and it had sobered them.  Bernadette, naturally, blamed it on a man ... 
Nathan to be specific.  If he would only have done as she asked, she was
quite sure that her curiosity about having a penis in her would have been
assuaged, and that she wouldn't think about it so much when she was with
Curtis Lee.  It had eaten at her for weeks now, and she was getting no
closer to her goal.  Nathan didn't even seem to be interested in being
sucked any more.  At supper, looking at him, sitting there eating like
nothing was wrong in the whole, wide world, she decided to take action.

   She did her homework, and went to bed.  She waited until all the lights
had been off for forty-five minutes by the clock on her night stand.  She
spent those forty-five minutes stretching her pussy with three fingers. 
She wouldn't let herself have an orgasm, but she shoved her fingers in
until it hurt.  At the end of the forty-five minutes she got up and snuck
to Nathan's room.  He was sleeping, but she could see him because of the
moonlight coming through the window.  She wondered idly if it was a full
moon.  She paid more attention to things like that nowadays.  He looked
just as handsome as he always had, lying there with only his pajama bottoms
on.

   She leaned over him and woke him with a warm, lip-rubbing kiss.  He
kissed her back, and then whispered "What are you doing?"

   Her hand went to his pajama bottoms.  "I miss you.  What do you think
I'm doing?" she whispered back.

   "Mom heard me come in that night I was at Flossie's," he whispered in
her ear.  "She might hear us too."

   "Then don't make any noise while I get me a drink." She kissed him
again.

   She pulled him out of bed, which he didn't think about, and put him on
the floor which, to be honest, he associated with a habit she had made at
the treehouse.  She pulled his pajama bottoms down, uncovering the penis
she craved so much.  It had been a while since she had had it in her hand,
and she had doubts as she realized how much bigger around it was than
Curtis Lee's.  She pushed her fear away and crawled closer, between his
legs.

   She had planned this carefully.  She started by sucking him, and then
kissing her way up to his mouth, and then back down.  She did that again,
so that he would get used to the idea that she might stop sucking him and
move in the darkness.  On the third time, as she kissed up his chest, she
swung one naked leg over, moving into a squat and, after kissing his lips,
grasped his penis in her hand, notched it in her pussy mouth, and sat down
hard.

   She almost screamed, and only because she bit her hand did she avoid it.
The pain was both unexpected, and intense.  Curtis Lee had caused a little
pain, and a little pressure.  Nathan was splitting her apart.  She tried to
feel her thigh muscles, telling them to stand her back up, but she couldn't
feel anything but the pain.  Nathan, finally realizing what she had done,
reached for her and pulled her down to him.  With his hands under her arms,
he pulled her toward his face, hissing at her.  The relief she felt as he
pulled her off his penis was almost orgasmic.  Suddenly she only felt a
dull ache, as her body parts began to come back to their original
configuration.

   "What the fuck are you doing?!" he hissed.

   "I didn't know it would hurt so much," she whimpered.

   "Are you CRAZY?" he rasped, his mouth right in her ear.

   "I'm sorry," she cried, tears dropping on his neck.  "Curtis Lee's went
in me a little today, and you were supposed to be first, and I got mad at
you and ..."

   His hand covered her mouth.

   "It went IN you?!" he hissed.  She tried to talk, but couldn't because
of his hand.  He moved it.

   "It was an accident," she whined softly.  "It didn't go ALL the way in,
not like yours just did.  His didn't hurt like that.  I thought it would be
OK ...  I'd feel you in me, and then get off and it would be OK."

   He hugged her to his chest, and she got her crying under control.  He
kissed her forehead and cheeks, and she sought his lips.  After a long warm
kiss she spoke softly into his mouth.

   "You hurt me!" she whispered.

   "You hurt yourself," he said back.

   "It wasn't supposed to hurt," she complained.

   "You went too fast," he said.  "It will always hurt if you just jamb it
in you."

   "Oh," She kissed him again.  "I'm going back to bed now."

   "What about me?" he asked.  "I'm still hard."

   She scrambled down and finished him off with her usual energetic mouth
action, getting her drink in less than a minute.  Then she pinched his leg
hard and scooted back away, to sneak out of his door before he could catch
her.

   =========================================

   School the next day was a repeat of that first ironic day after Flossie
recovered from Harvey's beating, and started teaching again.  On that day
the kids all knew what Nathan and Flossie did together, but she didn't know
that.  This time, Flossie knew what all the kids did together, but they
were unaware of her knowledge.  They were surprised, therefore, when she
announced there would be another session of health class that afternoon.

   They sat curiously, thinking they knew everything they needed to know
about sex, which is what they knew "health" class was really about.

   "There are two areas of sexual education that I may not have addressed
properly," she said, to start the session.  "The first is about the urges
you may feel to engage in sexual activity.  I know," she said, playing her
part, "that you have all felt the urge to touch yourselves.  But there may
be urges to explore beyond just your own body."

   Bernadette couldn't suppress a snort, and Flossie looked at her.  "Do
you have something to add, Bernadette?"

   "Um ...  no ma'am," said Bernadette, the others looking at her
interestedly.  All of them knew she was the most hot-blooded among them.

   Flossie didn't push it.  Nathan raised an eyebrow at her, but she
ignored him.  "Now, it is important for you to know that you MUST resist
those urges.  And there are things you can do that will help you with
this."

   "Like what?" asked Moses.  He had worried long into the night that his
partial penetration of Hilda Mae had ruined everything.  He hadn't meant to
do that, but, once his penis was inside her, the urge to slam it forward as
far into her as he could had gripped him with ferocious strength.  Only
because he knew that would ruin everything had he been able to jerk his
prick out of her warm, clasping sheath.

   "Well, for one thing, you should try to think of something else," said
Flossie, quoting the literature she had seen in college.

   She was faced with eight youths, their mouths hanging open in disbelief.
Jesse said it for them all.  "That doesn't work!" he said, almost
indignantly.

   Flossie slumped.  The information she had seen had recommended telling
children to concentrate on sports, or art, or music to take their minds off
sex.  There had even been a suggestion that they be told to carry a little
binder with them, so that they could write poetry whenever they felt
"inappropriate urges".  While she hadn't realized it then, she now knew
that was ridiculous.  Still, it was all she had.  She couldn't even control
her own urges when she was with Nathan alone.

   "Alone" she thought.  That was the key.

   "Well, then, you must always make sure you aren't alone with someone
you're tempted to be sexual with," she said.  "If there is always someone
else around, then you won't be able to do too much, or go too far."

   Luthor was the one who stuck a pin in that balloon.

   "Huh?" he asked, looking confused.

   "You can't do anything if there's someone else around," repeated
Flossie.

   "Huh?" he asked again, clearly trying to resolve what she had said with
his own experience.

   Hilda Mae raised her hand.  "I think he means that doesn't work either."

   Flossie didn't know what to do.  She DID know that, if she didn't do
SOMETHING, bellies would swell and everything would be lost.

   "Look," she said heavily.  "If you all keep playing sexually, you're
going to eventually end up having sex, and somebody's going to get
pregnant. OK?  That's the situation.  If any of you girls get pregnant, it
will be more horrible than you can even imagine!" Her frustration caused
her to speak freely, and she looked at Bernadette.

   "Bernadette, you like Curtis Lee, right?"

   Bernadette shrank back in her chair.  This was dangerous territory.

   "I guess he's OK," she said carefully.

   "What do you think your father would do to Curtis Lee if he got you
pregnant?"

   The look of horror on Bernadette's face was associated with the answer
to the question, and not the suggestion that she might lie with a Negro. 
That was made clear by the look she sent Curtis Lee's way.

   "You don't have to answer that," said Flossie.  "But we all know what
would happen.  That would ruin your life, because you love him, and it
would ruin his life, because they would kill him.  Is THAT what you want?"

   "OF COURSE NOT!" wailed Bernadette, never denying that she loved him.

   She turned to Johnnie Sue.  "What happened to your cousin, Julia when
she got pregnant and wasn't married?"

   "They sent her away," said Johnnie Sue, looking stricken.

   "And did she ever get to see the boy who made her pregnant again?"

   "He was sent away too," she said, wide-eyed.

   "And what happened to the baby they made?"

   "They gave it away to somebody else," whined Johnnie Sue.

   "Is that what you want to happen to you?"

   "Noooo," wailed the girl, starting to cry.

   "Then you HAVE to resist the temptation to do what you've been doing!"

   Seven sets of eyes slowly went to Nathan.

   "You TOLD her!" hissed Hilda Mae.

   "I SAW you!" said Flossie, coming to her lover's defense.

   Seven sets of eyes swung back to her, stunned.

   "I was taking Nathan fishing one day when we saw Johnnie Sue ... 
servicing Jesse and Luthor."

   The two boys' eyes opened wide, while Johnnie Sue moaned and covered her
face with both hands.

   "When did you see me and Hildy?" asked Moses, his face gray.

   "I didn't, but now I don't have to, do I?" asked Flossie, glaring at
him. Hilda Mae elbowed him hard, and looked down.

   "But it's not FAIR!" yelled Bernadette, almost standing up.  "What about
you and Nathan!"

   Now it was Flossie who was stunned.  Her brain gently reminded her that
Marian had seen it.  You couldn't keep that kind of emotion secret, really.
Not if anyone was looking for it.  And now she was stuck.  She couldn't
tell them she was going to marry Nathan.  She had already said they were to
resist UNTIL marriage.  Besides, if they knew, word would leak out somehow,
and that would ruin everything.  She suddenly realized she had never asked
Nathan what the other children knew about them.  She had to try denial.

   "What are you talking about?" Flossie asked, trying to sound dignified.

   Bernadette boiled over.  First, Nathan had put his penis in Flossie,
before he put it in her.  Then the accident had happened, and another man's
penis went in her before Nathan's.  Then, when Nathan's DID go in her, it
had hurt like fire!  Her whole dream of being deflowered by the brother she
loved so intensely had gone all wrong, and she blamed Flossie for it.

   "We SAW you through the window, having sex with him!" she growled.  "And
now you tell US we can't do that!  It's ...  not ...  FAIR!" she screamed
the last word and stood up.

   The bottom dropped out for Flossie.  She was embarrassed and ashamed. 
The fact that she was ten years older than the girl didn't help, because
Nathan was only one year older.  She felt like a hypocrite.  She WAS a
hypocrite!

   Nathan looked at his sister.

   "Sit down, Bernie," he said.

   She looked at him in rage and took a breath to scream at him.

   He stood up.  "Sit DOWN, BERNIE!" he thundered.

   She sat so hard it hurt her butt.

   "Do you want Curtis Lee to get you pregnant?" he asked.

   She glared at him.  He turned to Hilda Mae.

   "Do you want Moses to get you pregnant?"

   "Of course not," she said steadily.  "I'm only fifteen."

   He turned back to Bernadette.

   "Do you want to marry Curtis Lee?"

   Bernadette's eyes took on a hunted look.  She glanced at Curtis Lee, who
was looking at her interestedly.  She remembered how forceful he had been
about keeping the agreement.

   "I can't," she said, hedging.  "I'm only sixteen."

   "Do you WANT to marry him?" Nathan raised his voice.  "Do you want to
have his babies, and raise them and live with him your whole life?"

   She opened and closed her mouth twice.

   "Because I want to marry Flossie.  I want her to have my babies.  I
can't WAIT to live with her, and I can't IMAGINE living with any other
woman."

   They stared at him as he left his desk and paced.

   "And I know what you're feeling, because we can't control it either!" He
faced them.  "If I get Flossie pregnant, she can leave here.  She's a woman
...  an adult.  I'm going to have a job in Kansas City, if all goes well,
and we can still be together there.  Curtis Lee is leaving with me.  But
YOU can't leave yet, Bernie." He looked at Hilda Mae and Johnnie Sue.  "You
two can't leave yet either.  And if you get pregnant before you CAN leave,
you'll never see them again.  Is that what you want?"

   "No!" came three female voices in tandem.

   "Do you want to marry Luthor or Jesse?" he asked Johnnie Sue suddenly.

   "I want to marry them both," she moaned.

   Flossie looked up, horrified.

   "Then ...  don't ...  get ...  pregnant." Nathan said in a slow,
measured tone.

   Bernadette looked at Curtis Lee.  His eyes were subdued.  He looked
disappointed.

   "Yes," she said suddenly.  "I do want to live with you forever."

   "Don't you see?" he said softly.  "We're so close ...  I'm going with
Nathan.  It won't be so long before you can come up there, just a year.  I
don't want to screw this up, Bernie."

   "What are we going to dooooo," moaned Bernadette, beginning to cry.

   Flossie had only one card left.  She raised her hand, and the others
looked at her in confusion at the reversal of roles.

   "The other thing I was going to talk about today is birth control."

   They looked at her expectantly, her role as a teacher suddenly
re-established.

   "It is illegal for me to tell you about these things," she said.  "You
must understand that.  If anyone finds out I told you, I would be
arrested."

   They continued looking at her expectantly.  They were used to keeping
secrets.

   She told them about ancient methods of birth control, which involved
either blocking the sperm from going through the cervix, or trying to kill
the sperm before it could perform its intended purpose.  She told them
about the male prophylactics that had become popular after the first world
war, when soldiers brought diseases with them that began to devastate the
country.

   "But none of you will have access to these kinds of objects and tools,"
she said.  "They're not even sold in this town, with the possible exception
of rubbers, and none of you could buy them.  The druggist will only sell
them to a married man."

   Then she told them about withdrawal and the rhythm method, the only
things they could realistically try.  When she explained, in detail, the
rhythm method, she saw shock on the girls' faces.

   "But I thought the most dangerous time was when I was bleeding ...  or
right before," said Bernadette.

   "That's actually the safest time," said Flossie.  "When the egg is in
the tube, and just after it moves into the uterus is when it is most likely
to be fertilized.  It only takes one sperm cell to do that."

   Johnnie Sue, looking very alert, leaned forward.  "How many sperm cells
does a man ...  um ...  you know ...  when it comes out of his ...  penis?"
she stammered.

   "Millions," said Flossie.  "That's why it's so dangerous."

   "Millions?" gasped Johnnie Sue.  She had thought ten, or maybe twenty
would be in all that mess she loved to rub all over her.  She had no real
concept of what a cell looked like, at that point in her life.

   "And if there was some of that on you finger, when you ...  um ...  I
mean if you put your finger ..." she couldn't finish with Flossie looking
directly at her.

   "That would put sperm inside you," said Flossie, "and it would swim
towards the egg.  You could get pregnant."

   "Without even having sex?" gasped Hilda Mae.

   "Without even having sex." confirmed Flossie.

   All three girls looked ill.

   "I might be pregnant already," moaned Johnnie Sue.

   "That's what I've been trying to tell you," said Flossie.  "I know I'm a
hypocrite, and that I'm doing ...  have done something ...  that I'm
telling you not to do.  But Nathan is right.  If you have dreams of what
your life will be like some day, in a year or two ...  or three," she said,
looking at Johnnie Sue, "then you must resist the urge to do things that
will destroy those dreams."

   "But Ruth Ann is getting married," said Hilda Mae.  "She's only
sixteen."

   "Her parents will agree to it," said Flossie.  "Only then will she be
allowed to get married so young."

   "Shit," said Hilda Mae.  Her hand slapped over her mouth instantly.

   Nobody felt the need to chastise her.

   ========================================

   It was a sober group that left the school house that day.  Flossie
stayed inside, as she usually did, and the rest of them formed a little
knot outside.

   "What are we going to do?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "I know some things we're NOT going to do," sighed Moses.

   Hilda Mae glared at him.  "I hate you Moses Finshaw," she said darkly.
"I love you, but I hate you too."

   Bernadette looked at Curtis Lee.  "Do you want to marry me?" she asked.

   Curtis Lee looked at the sky.  "Yes," he finally said.  "But that
doesn't mean it will happen.  You may change your mind after I'm gone for a
while."

   She looked at him so accusingly that he almost flinched.  "If my brother
can marry a Negro, so can I," she said flatly.

   "That's not what I meant," he said.  "But it's a good point.  A white
man marrying a Negro is different than a Negro marrying a white girl,
especially if she's only seventeen." She started to argue and he went on,
cutting her off.  "You might meet a boy after I'm gone, and it might change
things.  That's what I meant."

   Bernadette whirled and stomped off down the road, toward town.

   "Boy, you are in big trouble now," sighed Nathan.

   Bernadette wouldn't look at Curtis Lee, or speak to him for three more
days.  She ignored him in school.  All of them stayed away from the tree
house, and nobody wanted to go fishing either.  They stayed home that
weekend, and when they got back to school Bernadette addressed Curtis Lee
as MISTER Curtis Lee, the few times she spoke to him.  That lasted three
more days.  Flossie knew that something was wrong, but since it was keeping
the two apart, she decided not to worry about it.  A serious rift ...  a
lover's spat, if you will ...  was not necessarily a bad thing in her mind.

   Flossie also controlled herself in relationship to her own lover.  She
did it by the simple expediency of keeping them apart.  He understood,
though it was harder on him than it was on her.  She did pretty well unless
he was there, with her.  When that happened, she lost all control.

   Nobody was happy.

   The mood perked up when Johnnie Sue had her period.  It was almost a
week late, since her body somehow knew it was supposed to be nourishing the
baby she didn't know she had lost.  It perked up more when Bernadette and
Hilda Mae had theirs two weeks later.  Like many sisters, their cycles were
matched.

   They threw themselves into what was left of the school year.  Marian
received the entrance exam in the mail, and brought it to school in the
car. The boys all crowded around to look at it, and Marian raised an
eyebrow at Flossie.  Flossie just shrugged.

   Twenty minutes later there was almost a party atmosphere in the room. 
The test was almost laughably simple.  It focused primarily on being able
to read and write, with some rudimentary math included.  The only part of
it that looked daunting was a long list of vocabulary words, that had to be
matched to the correct definitions.  Some of those words were completely
unknown to them.  Flossie's treasured dictionary took care of that over the
next week.

   By graduation, even Jesse could pass the test, at least as far as
Flossie could tell.  No answer key had been sent with it.

   Graduation came and went with little fanfare.  Only Curtis Lee's mother
arrived at the school on the last day of class.  In a simple ceremony,
Flossie handed out two diplomas she had received from the State Board of
Education.

   =====================================

   They had a month and a half to kill, and both Nathan and Curtis Lee
spent it working the cotton fields.  It kept them busy, which was good,
because they were extremely stressed.  The others did much the same, as
they had all their lives.  Only Bernadette and Hilda Mae sat around bored
to tears.  Not even Nancy Drew could perk them up.  They went fishing by
themselves, and spent long hours in the tree house together, staring at the
sky and talking about their dreams.  Masturbation helped a little, but it
was pale by comparison to what they felt when their men were with them.

   It was the 4th of July celebration that undid them all.  They had gone
from overdoing sex, to cutting themselves off completely.  Neither was
good. Now, they were all horny and tensions were high enough that anger
often erupted.  Harvey was carefully behaving himself, both because of his
wife, and the constable's warning.  He had stopped precipitous
foreclosures, trying to work with farmers instead.  He was miserable.  He
gained a lot of weight, because eating was the only pleasure he had left in
life.

   There were no fireworks in Catfish Hollow.  Not the kind that went up
into the sky and made beautiful bursts, anyway.  No one could afford that.
But there was a dance, and almost the whole town showed up for that.  There
were two bands, one white, and one black, on two stages, set up on opposite
sides of town, about three blocks apart.  Each was a tiny glow of light in
an otherwise dark town.  Liquor flowed, the one time of the year when
people let themselves go.  The adults danced themselves into a stupor.

   The children sought the darkness of the no-man's land between the two
parties.

   As luck would have it, Johnnie Sue was just coming off her period. 
Bernadette and Hilda Mae were both feeling the things they had learned
meant they'd bleed soon.  All of them were slightly off cycle, probably due
to the emotional strain they had been under.

   But all of them felt like they were safe, that night.  They had tracked
that 'safety', since getting the correct knowledge about it.  They hadn't
done anything about it ...  just made notice of it on an academic level. 
They were still resolute in their desire to preserve the dreams of their
futures, even though those were hazy at this point, less so for Bernadette,
and more so for the other two.

   Nathan and Curtis Lee only had two weeks left, before they were to be
taken by Marian to the bus station in Flaerty, forty miles away, and
disappear off into the unknown.  They had buried the gold at the base of
the treehouse, having to make four trips to ferry the coins, and then the
empty box to the site.  They put it there, because, in an emergency, they
could tell Bernadette about it on the phone.

   Emotions were tense.  Nathan and Curtis Lee's departure caused both
excitement and melancholy at the same time.  The excitement wasn't limited
to the girls.  The boys who would stay behind thought more about following
them, and what that could mean, than they did about the gold, which still
seemed like an impossible dream.  There was another component of the
feeling the teens shared, that made them feel almost like bugs were
crawling under their skin.  That was because of the amount of passion they
had suppressed, and the little over two months they had suppressed it.

   "I want to take a walk," said Bernadette, fidgeting.  She and her
siblings had been standing with their mother, sipping punch while the
adults capered around to the music of the banjo and fiddle.  Harvey had
been drinking heavily, and it wasn't punch.  He was talking to a little
knot of the town fathers off to one side.

   "Take your brother with you," said Marian distantly.  "The men are all
liquored up and acting a fool."

   Bernadette didn't argue.  She pulled Hilda Mae with her and then pushed
Nathan ahead of her towards Johnnie Sue, who was sitting on a folding chair
not far away.  Johnnie Sue said something to her mother, who was grinning
and panting, having stopped dancing with her husband so they could quench
their thirst.  She got up and joined them.

   "Where are we going?" asked Johnnie Sue as they walked into the
darkness.

   "Nowhere," said Bernadette.  "Just getting away from the noise."

   Fizzling light flew through the air to land on the ground, sparks
shooting off from it in the dark.  The string of firecrackers started going
off with a burst of noise and sound.  Leon's grinning face could be seen in
the staccato bursts of light from behind a barrel where he had ambushed
them.

   "GOTCHA!" he squealed, running off into the dark, the punk in his hand
making a waving, sinuous line of orange as his hands moved.

   Luthor ran up from behind them.

   "Who did that?" he panted.

   "Leon," said Nathan.

   They could see his teeth in the dark as he grinned.  "Oh.  Where are the
others?" he asked.

   "I don't know," said Hilda Mae.  "There's two stupid parties in this
stupid town."

   They didn't see Jesse and Moses approaching, and all of them jumped when
Moses said, suddenly: "There you are!" Hilda Mae screamed, and then cut it
off quickly.

   Bernadette peered into the dark.  "Is Curtis Lee with you?"

   She jumped and squeaked as he suddenly appeared off to one side.

   "I am now," he said calmly.  "I saw these two sneaking off and figured
I'd better keep an eye on them."

   He was almost bowled over by Bernadette's rush to hug him fiercely.

   "Not in public!" he hissed.  "Are you crazy?" He pushed her back.  "I
thought you were still mad at me anyway."

   "I am!" she said.  "Now, let's go find someplace that's not public," she
added in a whisper.

   "Tree house?" asked Luthor hopefully.

   "Too far," said Moses.  "They'll miss us."

   "If your parents are like mine, they won't even know we're gone," said
Johnnie Sue, giggling.  "Besides, they haven't even started eating yet."
There was a pig and a side of beef roasting at each party, and tables
covered with dishes of potato salad, corn on the cob and other treats.

   "We'd miss the feast!" whispered Jesse.

   "Would you rather eat ...  or go to the treehouse?" asked Luthor.

   "Um ...  treehouse," said Jesse, grinning at Johnnie Sue.

   "Guys ..." Nathan warned.

   "Oh go off and see Miss Flossie!" snapped Bernadette.

   "She's at our party," said Moses, kicking at the dirt with one toe.

   "She told me she wasn't going to stay long," said Curtis Lee.

   "Can you behave yourselves?" asked Nathan.

   "Better than YOU can!" snorted Bernadette.  She reached out to touch him
on the arm.  "I'm sorry," she said.  "I've just missed Curtis Lee so much."

   "Will you promise me to be careful?" asked Nathan.

   "Yes!" came three female voices.

   They were gone in a flash, footsteps running off into the dark.  Nathan
walked slowly through town, and around, coming at Flossie's house from the
back.  It was dark inside.  He tapped gently on the door, but got no
answer. Silently he let himself in, found the lamp with practiced fingers,
and lit it, rather than turning on an electric light.

   She wasn't there.

   He sat down in the chair, and laid his head back.  He thought about
leaving, and going to the treehouse, to help them keep their promise, but
it felt good to sit in the chair.  Slowly, his eyes closed.

   Chapter 34

   Things went badly in the treehouse almost from the beginning.  They
meant to sit and talk, and kiss a little, but slowly, on various platforms,
clothing began to fall off of them, almost by itself, somehow.  Nipples
were sucked, and more clothing came off, until kissing bodies writhed
nakedly against each other.  The girls all used their mouths, and drank
down those offerings.  The boys licked and sucked until the girls were
temporarily satisfied.  Then they lay there, in each other's arms, talking
softly, as lovers do.

   It was the second round when things took a turn for the worse.  Had they
gotten up right after the first, put their clothes on and left, they might
have been all right.  But they didn't.

   Luthor got between Johnnie Sue's thighs, and began to work up a load to
put where she liked it.  This time, when the tip of his prick nosed into
her pussy, though, her hands reached for his hips and she pulled.  They
were well matched, and he slid into her like a knife into hot butter.

   Her groan was so loud ...  so different from what they had heard before,
that it brought queries from above.

   "What's wrong?" called down Hilda Mae.

   "Ohhhh Mamma it's in meeeeeee," groaned Johnnie Sue.  She had never felt
anything that good in her whole young life.

   Bernadette practically attacked Curtis Lee.  She had been playing with
his newly stiffened prick, jacking it slowly, when Johnnie Sue's words
electrified her.  Before he could react, she crawled up on him, and like
she had done with her brother, tried to sit on it.  Again, though, she only
got half of it in, because Curtis Lee's strong hands, under her arms, kept
her from sinking down any further.  She was stretched, and she could feel
that, but the awful pain of Nathan's prick wasn't there at all.

   "Ohhh pleease Curtis Lee," she begged.

   "You know better!" he grunted, his arms straining.

   "You're going away," she cried.  "Just once before you go away! 
Please?"

   He jerked her forward, trying to pull her off of him, and she collapsed
on his chest, crying into his neck.  He was still inside her, perhaps two
inches.

   "Pleeease?" she cried.

   Curtis Lee was in trouble and he knew it.  She felt so good like this.
His own control began to seep out.

   "OK, but I have to be on top, so I can pull it out of you when it's
time," he croaked.

   She was off of him almost instantly and lying on her back, legs spread,
arms reaching for him.  He knelt, feeling the boards pressing into his
kneecaps, and felt her hand around his manhood, pulling almost painfully.

   He eased into her, fighting her hands, which were claws on his buttocks.

   ================================

   Hilda Mae looked at Moses wide eyes in the dark.  "They're doing it,"
she whispered, looking up.  He was stiff again too, and her hand found him.

   "We're not supposed to," he whispered urgently.

   "You heard him ...  you can take it out when it's time," she urged.

   "We shouldn't," he tried one last time.

   "I want to," she said, reaching for him.

   Theirs was less practiced, and more erratic.  She didn't guide him, but
just pulled him on top of her.  He kept his knees outside hers, pinning her
legs together, still trying to foil her intentions.  His balls and penis
rubbed between her legs as they wiggled against each other.  Her knees
pressed against his as she tried to open herself too, and one of his knees
skidded to the side.  Now, as she pulled him up for a kiss, his penis slid
right to her opening.

   It took her five minutes to get him into her.  It was done in small,
infinitesimal movements, as this wiggle advanced him, and that pull made
him go a tiny bit deeper.  He was almost surprised when, as his own control
vanished, and he pushed, he only had an inch left to go before her body
stopped him.

   He stopped, looking down at her.  Her eyes were wide open.

   "It's in me," she whispered.

   "Uh huh," he panted.

   "I love this," she sighed.

   Her knees kicked at his again, and he lifted one so she could slide her
leg outside his.  It caused him to press harder, and she made a little
sound of happiness.  Letting her spread her other leg did the same thing,
and before he knew it the instinctive thrust and withdraw was making her
breasts jiggle in the moonlight under him.

   She pulled his face to hers and whispered: "Don't EVER stop doing this
to me."

   ======================================

   She saw the light in the house as she approached, and thought of Nathan
immediately.  Still, she was careful.  There was a lot of alcohol being
consumed this night, a lot of it made at home, and powerful.  She relaxed
as she saw him sleeping in the chair.

   She was already wet when she woke him, and pulled him to the bedroom
without argument.  By her cycle, this wouldn't be too terrible a time, and
it had been much too long since she felt that wet, warm feeling deep inside
her.

   He didn't resist, but wasn't urgent about it this time.  He eased into
her as her hands and voice told him he was doing exactly what she wanted.
He spurted almost immediately, and apologized, but she just kept him
rocking in her saddle and welcomed an exquisite orgasm as his spunk soaked
into her.

   They rested for half an hour, nuzzling and talking softly.  Then Flossie
got on top and they started all over again.

   ======================================

   Johnnie Sue lay, sated and happy after the strongest orgasm she'd ever
had, while Luthor panted over her, sagging on his arms.  She could feel his
penis softening, after it had spurted inside her.  She had found a new
feeling she loved.  She would happily take spunk outside her body, or
inside.  She rolled her head to look at Jesse, who sat, his prick held
tightly in his hand as he leaned forward.

   "That was so cool," he whispered.

   "You want to?" she asked.

   "Can I?" he gripped his prick harder.

   "You bet, blood brother," she smiled.

   Jesse lasted one point two seconds.  He was adding his cream to Luthor's
before he even got all the way inside her.  But he stayed hard, and kept
going.  Johnnie Sue felt the difference immediately.  Luthor's penis
scraped the sides of her pussy walls deliciously, and just that friction
was enough to get her off.  Now, with Jesse's smaller penis, her hands
automatically trained him to move so that he crushed her clitty.  He seemed
to have endless energy, and she tumbled through two more orgasms before he
sighed, gave her another load, and settled down to press his chest against
her soft breasts.

   She spent the next twenty minutes kissing one, then the other, and
telling them she was going to find a way to marry them both.

   =====================================

   Bernadette lay rigid as Curtis Lee slowly plumbed her depths.  He didn't
stretch her with his width, but made up for that in other ways.  He was
long and pointed, and when she felt him hit the end of her sheath ...  and
move things around deep inside of her ...  she spread her legs wider and
arched her back.

   "Oh Curtis Lee I love you, I love you, I love you," she said, over and
over again.  She felt pain as his prick pried her cervix open, and
penetrated those inner lips.  But it was a good pain, and she welcomed it.

   "Ohhhh you feel so good," he sighed, staying deep in her.  "I didn't
know it could feel this good,"

   Bernadette relaxed, falling limp, and her legs lifted to slide up and
down his legs.

   "You have to marry me," she whimpered.  "I'll just die if you don't."

   Something in her abdomen felt different, and she suddenly clenched
muscles she hadn't known she had.

   "Auugghhhh", he moaned.  "What was that?"

   "This?" she clenched and released.

   "If I was a cow you'd be milking me," he groaned.  "It's so tight ...  "
He pulled, mostly to see if he could.  He'd seen dogs get stuck together,
and he was afraid they might be in the same boat.  But his prick slid
smoothly back out, until her legs tightened on his buttocks.

   "Don't take it out," she moaned.  "I love it.  I love you."

   He slid back in, more forcefully this time and she yipped at the pain.

   "Not so hard," she whined.  "I feel like it's poking my lungs."

   "Oh baby," he groaned, as she clenched again.  "This wasn't a good idea
at all." He started to pull out, because suddenly it was there.  He was
about to spurt.

   "Nooo," she moaned, tightening her heels on his butt.

   "Bernie!  I have to ..."

   Instinct demanded it, and he pushed back in as the first stream of his
spend rocketed through his prick.  Her heels helped ram him through her
cervix this time, and he filled her womb to overflowing with thick, milky
cream.

   "Oh Curtis," she sighed.  "That feels SO lovely."

   "I couldn't help it," he gasped, his body demanding that he keep pushing
a his prick flexed four or five more times.  It had nothing left to give
up, but kept trying.

   "I'm not mad at you any more," she sighed.  "Even though you're getting
soft."

   "I'm so sorry honey," he moaned.

   She kissed him, and her hands roamed on his back.  She rolled him over,
and took up her favorite position, rubbing her leaking pussy on his cock
and balls.  Soon he was a mess, but life came back to his manhood as she
whispered how much she had loved having him shoot inside her, and how, when
they were married, she would keep him in bed all the time.  When he was
hard again, she slid him back in her and sat up, taking him deep again. 
She rocked, and dropped her head as a sweet orgasm seeped through her body.
She kept rocking and the next one was stronger.  Ten minutes later he
started panting, and she leaned down to lick his lips.

   "Make it shoot again," she whispered.

   He did.

   ====================================

   Moses pounded Hilda Mae for fifteen minutes.  What he was doing felt
wonderful, but what Hilda Mae was doing was even more fun.  Her face
twisted into ten different looks as she had orgasm after orgasm.  Her
fingernails alternated from scraping lightly over his skin, to digging into
his butt.  He learned to go into her from different angles, and each time
she went crazy.

   When he felt it coming, he never even though of pulling out.  He just
kept pumping, even as his prick spurted, letting her pussy stroke and hug
him just like her throat did.  He kept going even as he went limp, and wet
squishy sounds, like toes in mud came from where they were joined.

   She pushed him over and sucked him clean.  Like he hadn't stopped, she
didn't either.  Soon she was taking his newly stiff length deep in her
throat.  She pulled off panting.

   "I can't decide which way I like it more," she gasped.

   "I like them both," he panted.

   Johnnie Sue squealed below, and Hilda Mae crawled to the edge of the
platform to look down.  Moses saw her wet pussy winking at him between her
buttocks, and got up to kneel behind her.  He lifted his prick and poked at
her weepy pussy lips.  She turned her head to look over her shoulder, her
face half covered with blond hair.

   "What are you doing?" she asked.

   "This," he said, grabbing her hips and pushing.

   He pushed too hard, and she gasped as she started to fall.  Using all
his strength, he pulled, and walked backwards on his knees with her impaled
on him.  When they were safe, he started pumping again.  She ended up with
her arms on the boards, and her head on her arms, her butt high in the air
as his prick scraped her in a whole new way that sent delicious tremors all
through her.  When she reached for her clitty with the fingers of one hand,
that did the trick for her and she pushed her butt back at him as the
ecstasy rolled through her.  He went stiff, and she felt him seed her
again.

   ========================================

   They thought they were all in trouble as they ran back through the dark,
to town.  They had spent hours making love.  Johnnie Sue was amazed she
didn't slosh as she ran, like sometimes happened when you drank too much
water.  As they approached town, they slowed, and there were farewell
kisses as they split to go back to what they were sure were parties that
were over.  Jesse's parents were looking for him, but hadn't been looking
long, and they collected him and went home.  Curtis Lee's mother had gone
home long ago, but it wasn't such a big deal with him.  Moses' parents were
still dancing.  The music had gone from fast to slow as the night went on,
and he watched them, pressed together, swaying in time with the music.  He
wondered if he'd ever get to dance with Hilda Mae like that.

   On the other side of town, Bernadette and Hilda Mae took a chance and
went straight home.  The house was dark, and they went inside to run a
bath. Their plan was to tell their mother they got bored and just came
home. Not knowing how much time they had, they bathed together quickly, to
get the smell they knew was hanging about them off.  They had just made it
into chairs, with books, when their mother dragged their stumbling father
through the front door.

   "I wondered where you'd gotten to," said Marian, guiding a weaving
Harvey toward the bedroom.

   "It wasn't much fun with no other kids our age around," said Bernadette.

   "Well, maybe there will be some next year," said Marian.  "Turn off the
lights when you go to bed." She didn't ask where Nathan was.  She just
hoped he'd been careful that his sisters didn't know where he went when
they left him.

   Looking at each other, the girls heaved a relieved sigh.

   =====================================

   Flossie woke in a tangle of arms and legs with Nathan.  He was breathing
deeply.  She lay there, trying to feel what he had put into her.  She
wanted to feel heavy with his nectar, full and satisfied.  She had needed
this so badly.  They still didn't know how long it would take before the
boys would be situated and she could join them.  She hoped it wouldn't be
too long.  She was tempted to go back to sleep, but he was working, and
would have to get up and go to work in the morning.  They had been lucky so
far, and she didn't want to push it.

   She woke him and told him he had to go home.

   He did, but only after mounting her again, and leaving part of him with
her.

   Chapter 35

   Two weeks passed with alarming speed.  There wasn't much for either boy
to do to get ready to go.  Each would have a suitcase, with some clothes in
it, but that was about it.  The gold coins would be carried in their
pockets.

   Bernadette stayed away from Curtis Lee, primarily because she couldn't
stand to be around him and not be able to touch him.  This time of the
month was a very bad time to let him touch her.  The other kids were
willing, after their overdose of dangerous sex, to stay apart, though, as
the summer wore on that would change.  Nathan also stayed away from
Flossie. With things going so well, neither of them wanted to take a chance
on being caught now.  That lasted until the night before they were to go.

   They couldn't resist meeting then.  Flossie was tense.  She had been
tense for weeks.  Their interlude on the 4th of July had been a welcome
relief, even though she had worried about all that sperm.  Her period had
started on the 6th, brought on early, she thought, because of all that
sexual activity, but it had still been welcome, particularly because it was
abnormally short.  Now, six days after she had stopped, she felt sure that
it was too early for their last night to do any harm.  She could not know
that her emotional highs and lows, and the tension, had affected her body
in ways that, had she known, would have changed her plans.  She could not
know that an ovary had dropped another egg days sooner than usual, or that
the egg was already halfway to her womb, safe and viable in the fallopian
tube that was its highway.

   When Nathan's millions of sperm entered her this night, her uterus was
awash with them, battling for the chance to meet and conquer that egg. 
They died by the millions, their little tails wagging slower and slower as
they ran out of energy.  When Nathan left her, half were already dying. 
When he got into his mother's car the next morning, only hundreds of
thousands were left alive.  By the time he and Curtis Lee were on the bus,
sitting in different sections, because the bus was segregated, the number
had dropped to thousands that still wiggled and swam.  As Nathan nodded
off, letting the miles flow under the tires of the bus as it took him away
from her, one sperm cell found a dark tunnel to swim up into.  It was the
strongest of them all ...  the most persistent ...  the one destined, by
the time the bus stopped for lunch in Arkansas, to make Nathan a father.

   Again, he had left part of himself with his lover.  This time, that part
of him would still be in her body when he saw her next.

   ===================================== The first thing they did was find
a coin shop and inquire about the worth of the coins they had.  Nathan
explained that his grandfather had left them to him, and that now that he
was striking out on his own, he was thinking about converting them to cash.
The man said they were in remarkably good condition, and offered eighty
dollars apiece for all five coins.  When Nathan said he actually had ten,
the man licked his lips and started counting out cash.

   The next thing they did was buy a car for a hundred and fifty dollars.

   Then they checked in at the address Nathan's mother had given him.  They
were told when to report for testing, and provided a voucher for staying at
a motel for two days and three nights.  It was good up until the night of
the test.  If they passed, they'd be given a dormitory room in the academy
until the next class started.  No one seemed to think it was odd that
Curtis Lee had showed up, or that he wanted to be a policeman.  Two of the
people they dealt with in the application process were also colored, and
they worked right alongside white people.  It was a whole new experience.

   The test was almost a let down.  There were only ten people in the room.
There was no mood of excitement, or anticipation.  It was almost like
taking a test in school.  You didn't have to wait for the results, but if
you elected to, your test was graded first.  They waited, along with two
others who wanted to know how they did right away.  The results of that
were anticlimactic too.  A mousy looking man came out, called out a name
and handed whoever answered a piece of paper.  One of the other's name was
called first, and as he looked at the paper he cursed, wadded it up, tossed
it in a corner, and stomped out.  Waggoner was called before Wilson.  The
paper told them they'd passed, and to report to the academy for an
interview and room assignment.  That was it.  On the way out, Nathan picked
up the paper the other man had thrown away.  It said they were sorry, but
that he had not passed.  It gave instructions on when he could take the
test again.

   The interview was more interesting.  They were interviewed separately,
but compared notes later.  There were quite normal questions, about where
you were from, and what you liked and didn't like.  They asked if you'd
ever been arrested, or in trouble with the law.  But then there were other
questions, asked by a man with slicked back hair and horn-rimmed glasses.
Those were questions like "If you came upon an accident scene, and there
was a mother and her child injured, and you could only save one of them,
which one would you save?" Another was "Would you rather fly or drive to
Canada?" Those questions didn't seem to have a right answer, and they were
thrown in between normal questions.

   They were sent to another office to draw uniforms, equipment, books and
get a dormitory assignment.  Whey they asked to room together, no one
seemed to think that was odd.

   The academy would make a story in itself, but that's for another time,
except for a couple of things.  Neither the physical demands, nor the
academic work caused either of them to sweat.  They studied together,
quizzed each other, and worked hard.  It was six weeks long and it was
tough in the sense that they had no time for themselves, except on
weekends. Those weekends were instructive too.  Initially, with their soft
Southern drawls, they were made fun of and assumed to be bumpkins.  But,
when they consistently scored first and second, alternating in those
positions in the academic standings, people began to realize that these two
were sharp cookies.  Weekends found others in the academy gravitating
toward them, and in those few short weeks, they found themselves with a
large group of friends, both black and white.  The groups didn't mix well,
at first, because even in this much more relaxed city, cultures were
different enough that there was uneasiness.  But, as they sat around
drinking beer and telling stories about home, they found that they weren't
so different, and bonds formed.  Four of the recruits in the class lived in
Kansas City, and Bar B Ques happened that brought both blacks and whites
into parts of the city they were rarely, or had never been seen in before.

   Quite suddenly, it seemed, the graduation ceremony was done, and they
were hunting for an place to live.  They had one week to get situated, and
then report for work.

   One of the things they learned in school was that Nathan and Flossie
couldn't get married in Missouri.  It was against the law.  Not only was it
illegal to GET married in Missouri, it was also against the law for an
interracial couple who were married somewhere else to live as husband and
wife in Missouri.  It was one of the few laws that segregated people by
race, but because of that, Nathan had to find a place to live on the Kansas
side of town.  He rented a post office box in Missouri to use as an address
on all his records.

   Curtis Lee was amazed at Kansas City on a number of levels.  It was
segregated, but it was segregated by pure bigotry, as opposed to law.  What
that meant was that, if someone was a racist, he or she would treat Curtis
Lee just like he had been treated back home.  On the other hand, everybody
else treated him like ...  everybody else.  There were no signs saying
"Colored Only", or "White Only".  He could go into any store or restaurant.
He might get the cold shoulder, but no one yelled at him and said he had to
leave.  People might say things to let him know he wasn't welcome, but they
almost never cursed at him or ordered him around.  It was jarring, because
you could tell a racist to go jump in a lake, and nobody would do anything
to you at all.  On the other hand, he and Nathan couldn't find any place to
live, because they wanted to live together, and all the landlords in decent
places wouldn't allow a colored tenant.  Nathan could rent anything, but
Curtis Lee wasn't welcome.

   The sad part was that any place Curtis Lee could rent, meant the people
who lived around there didn't want Nathan living with HIM!  No honkys
allowed, no sir!

   It was through the new friendships they had forged that they found a
place to live.  It was owned by the grandfather of one of their classmates.
The grandfather had farmed, but was now retired and in a nursing home.  The
family didn't want to let the land go, but they didn't want to live there
or farm it either.  The offer was made that, if they'd take care of the
place, they could rent it for fifty dollars a month.

   It was an old two story farmhouse in Wyandotte County, north of County
Line road about five or six miles.  That put it near both the Rosedale
area, which was all colored, and a rough part of town, as well as Mission
Hills and Prairie Village, which were affluent white suburbs.  There were
four bedrooms upstairs, and a large parlor, living room, dining room and
kitchen downstairs.  There was no insulation, but there was a huge old
pot-bellied stove for use in the winter, and ample wood on the property. 
The barns were full of old equipment.  Grandpa's furniture, dishes, books,
and even some of his clothing had been left there, along with a shop full
of tools.

   It was quiet, remote, and perfect, as far as they were concerned.  They
arranged for the utilities to be turned on, including their own phone
number.  It was a party line, but there were only two other families on the
circuit, and both of them were elderly.

   Their first call, of course, was to Nathan's mother.

   =========================================

   Marian was almost frantic with relief when she heard Nathan's voice on
the line.

   "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" she yelled into the phone.  "IT'S BEEN ALMOST TWO
MONTHS!"

   "Calm down, Mamma, we're fine.  We both graduated, and we have a house
to live in and a phone and everything!  I'm calling you on our phone right
this minute!"

   He had to apologize two or three times for worrying her "half to
DEATH!", but eventually she cut him off.  Her voice was terse.

   "Flossie's pregnant!" she moaned into the phone.  "And things are
happening around here you wouldn't BELIEVE!"

   Nathan was stunned at the news that he was going to be a father, but
part of him was elated too.  He peppered her with questions, and found out
she had tendered her resignation to the town fathers two weeks after she
missed her first period.  Even though they hadn't heard from him, she was
working on faith that his situation was working out.  She couldn't appear
in school the next year with a swelling belly, and no husband.

   The next news made Nathan have to sit down.  His mother had offered, and
been hired, to take Flossie's place.

   "But you're not a teacher!" he gasped.

   "I know that, but they have to have SOMEBODY!" she said back excitedly.
"And it's only temporary, until they can get a new school built and hire a
proper teacher."

   "A new school?" he asked, amazed.

   "Harvey's finally getting his way," she said.  "When I offered to teach,
I sort of didn't tell him I was going to, and they accepted and everything,
and then he found out.  I thought he was going to have a conniption fit,
Nathan!  He said there was no way I was going to teach in that school.  He
got on the phone and yelled and screamed or something, because the State is
going to build a new schoolhouse!"

   "Wow, that's great, Mamma," said Nathan, dazed.

   "Well, it didn't all work out," she went on.  "They'll only build one
school, because of those Supreme Court people up there in Washington.  He's
fit to be tied that I'm teaching Negroes.  He's acting so angry, and
Flossie doesn't know WHAT she's going to do!  She's been helping me with
lesson plans and all that, but the only time we can meet is at school, when
he's at work.  She's been showing me how to teach.  How in the world did
she ever teach you all those things in that horrible old place?  Oh I wish
you were here, Nathan."

   Nathan thought furiously.  The arrangements for the house had been made
during the last two weeks of the academy, and, upon graduation, they had
only to move their clothing in.  The utilities had already been turned on.
Nathan had been a police officer for less than twenty-four hours when he
made the call.  They still had six days, before they had to report for
their first patrol assignments.  If they went together, and switched off
driving, they could get there in a day.  Another day driving back would
still give them four days in Catfish Hollow.  They wouldn't even need that
long to gather up Flossie and get her out of there.  There was plenty of
time.

   "We're coming down there, Mamma," he said into the phone.  "Tell Flossie
to get ready to go.  She's coming back with us.  Don't tell Daddy we're
coming, though.  I may want to talk to him when I get there, and I want it
to be a surprise, OK?"

   She expressed, a little over dramatically, how appreciative she was, and
that she'd run right over to see Flossie, and then they hung up.

   ====================================

   They made the trip in sixteen hours, driving straight through.  They got
some stares, back in their home state ...  two young men, one white and one
black, driving together.  That would, in the next few years, suggest they
were civil rights workers.  But for now, people just stared, and shook
their heads.

   Nathan dropped Curtis Lee off at his mother's house, knowing he
shouldn't take him home.  That was because of Bernadette, rather than worry
about people seeing him with Curtis Lee.  The whole town knew they had left
together.  There had been some tongue wagging about that.  His father
hadn't spoken a word to him after he found out about it.

   When he got home he was inundated with soft, good-smelling women.  His
sisters kissed him right on the mouth, in front of their mother, but broke
those kisses quickly.  Marian didn't seem to notice.  She hugged him too,
pressing her body tightly against his, and whispered in his ear: "They
don't know."

   Bernadette suggested they might know a bit more than their mother knew.

   "Flossie's all ready to go," she said excitedly.  "She started packing
just as soon as Mamma went to see her."

   "And how do you know that, young lady?" asked her mother, her eyebrow
arched.

   "Well, when Nathan called, you got all excited and ran out of here like
the house was on fire," said Bernadette.  "It was only natural for us to
wonder where you were going.  We followed you.  When you left, we visited
Miss Flossie." She turned to her brother.  "We were SO mad that she didn't
let us talk to you before she hung up!" She hugged and kissed him again. 
Her loins pressed entirely too hard against him, and he pushed her away.

   "Sorry." He grinned, to cover the flush on his face.  "We sort of had
things to do to get ready to come.  We drove straight through."

   "We?" asked Bernadette, her voice rising.  "Did Curtis Lee come with you
too?!"

   Both of them knew they'd made a mistake immediately.  Nathan knew he
should have told his sisters privately that Curtis Lee had come with him.
Bernadette knew that she had communicated something with the voice of her
question.  She looked at her mother, who was staring back at her, the
beginnings of a frown on her face.  It deepened, and she looked back at
Nathan.

   "So that's how it is," she said.  "It's not bad enough that my only son
falls in love with a Negress and gets her ..." She stopped.  "Now you've
put ideas into HER head too!"

   "Mamma ..." Bernadette started, but her mother cut her off.  "We will
discuss this later.  You are not to see Curtis Lee while he's here.  Is
that clear?"

   "But Mamma!" Bernadette crumpled.

   "Is that CLEAR?" Marian was adamant.

   Bernadette turned and fled to her room, slamming the door behind her.

   Marian turned back to Nathan.  "What have you done?" There was anguish
in her eyes.

   "I didn't do anything, Mamma," he said seriously.  "I tried to stop it.
Why do you think I talked him into coming with me to Kansas City?"

   "You KNEW?" she gasped.  "Why didn't you TELL me?"

   "Mamma," he said, taking her hands.  "How could I?  You know what would
have happened.  The whole place would have fallen apart.  I thought they'd
just forget each other once he was gone."

   "Oh my," His mother slumped.  "Oh, mercy me." She started to turn to
Hilda Mae, who had stood there frozen, watching something unfold she never
thought she'd see.  She realized, now, how savvy her mother was, and panic
gripped her as her mother's face turned her way.

   She turned and bolted for the bedroom, crashing through the door and
slamming it behind her.

   Marian turned back to her son, her eyes wide.

   "Her too?"

   Nathan couldn't look her in the face, this time.

   "I couldn't say anything.  I tried to talk sense to them.  Flossie even
gave the whole class a speech and told them they had to stop thinking that
way.  It didn't do any good."

   "SHE knew too?" Marian wavered on unsteady legs.

   "Not until school was almost over," he rushed to say.  "Things got kind
of complicated when the kids found out about me and Flossie, and Curtis Lee
and me going away and all that."

   "So THAT's what she was talking about!" sighed Marian.  "She said all
the boys wanted to follow you ...  to become policemen like you and Curtis
Lee." I thought it was just hero worship, but now I see.  They want to get
OUT of here ...  to someplace where they can ..."

   She burst into tears.  "Oh what am I going to DO?  Harvey may KILL them,
Nathan!  What have you DONE?!"

   "Mamma, please!" said Nathan urgently.  "I TRIED ...  really.  It was
just like talking to a waterfall.  It kept going.  Curtis Lee told her she
was crazy, but she wouldn't listen to him either, honest!"

   "Who's the other one?" she asked calmly.  "Who is Hilda Mae infatuated
with?"

   "You should talk to her, Mamma," he tried.

   "I'm talking to YOU right now, young man!" she snapped.  "YOU set the
example for them."

   "No I didn't!" he said.  "That was going on long before anybody found
out about me and Flossie."

   Surprise wiped the anger off her face.  "How long?" she asked.

   "All last school year, practically," he said.

   "Oh my word ...  and I didn't even suspect," she said, her voice
startled.

   "You didn't suspect about Flossie and me either until that night," he
said nervously.

   "I knew you were smitten with someone," she said.  "I just couldn't
figure out who.  Then I saw you together."

   "That's how Flossie figured it out too," lied Nathan, hoping it was a
good lie.  "We really tried to stop it, Mamma, honest."

   She snorted.  "You can't stop that kind of thing.  I knew that with you,
and I know it with them too.  But this is different.  Bernadette has a
whole year of school left, and Hilda Mae TWO!  Oh, what am I going to do?"
she moaned.

   She looked startled.  "Have they ....?" Then she covered her face.  "I
don't even want to know," she moaned through her hands.

   "It'll be OK, Mamma," he said, taking her into his arms.  "Curtis Lee
will be in Kansas City."

   She moaned into his chest.  "That's fine, for now, but what about
Hildy?"

   "Talk to her," said Nathan.  "Don't yell at her, just talk to her like
you talked to me.  I never knew how smart you were until you talked to me
like that, Mamma.  Help her.  You helped me, even if you don't know it."

   Marian snorted into his shirt.  "I helped you so well that I'm going to
have my first grandbaby.  And I won't even be able to hold herrrrrrr." She
bawled, all the frustration and emotion pouring out to soak his shirt.

   "Yes you will," whispered Nathan.  "We'll find a way to let you hold
her." He thought about that.  "How do you know it's going to be a her,
anyway?"

   His mother actually laughed, and pushed him away, smiling again.  "Men
are so silly, sometimes," she said.  "Now, go see your woman.  I have to go
talk to my daughters."

   ====================================

   Flossie bawled when she opened the door, and he had to almost carry her
into the living room.  She couldn't admit it to him, but she had been
worried that he wouldn't come back ...  that she'd languish here, reduced
to having a child out of wedlock.  Neither she, nor the child would be
welcome in any way, shape or form.  She kissed him frantically, short,
repeated kisses on his cheeks and chin and lips, as he stood there
grinning.

   She wouldn't let go of him, until she felt his hand on her abdomen,
smoothing across it.  Then the relief she had been feeling pulled back and
the anger at him surfaced.  She pushed him away.

   "Why didn't you CALL me?!" she choked.  The idiocy of that penetrated
her mind when she remembered she didn't have a phone.  "You could have
written me a letter at least!"

   Her pain made him feel pain too, at hurting her.  "I'm sorry," he
pleaded.  "I ...  don't know your address," he finished helplessly.  "And
we were busy at the academy, and they wouldn't let us use the phone for a
long distance call or anything."

   She shrugged that off, and went on to her next complaint.

   "You made me PREGNANT!" she huffed.

   "Really?" he asked, his face eager.  "Is there really a baby in there?"
He peered at her stomach.  "You don't look any different."

   "I've missed two periods, you ...  you ...  you MAN!" she grumbled. 
"And her father wasn't even here for me to TELL him about it!"

   "Why are you and my mother so sure it's a girl?" asked Nathan,
distracted by the characterization of a baby he couldn't even tell was
there yet as a "she".

   "Because it is, that's why," said Flossie.  Suddenly all her fear and
worries were gone.  "I'm packed and ready to go!" she said, brightening.

   "I bought a car," he said proudly.  "Curtis Lee and I came back together
and shared the driving.  He and I have a couple of things to do, and then
we can leave."

   "Not before you make love to me," she demanded.

   "Are all women like this?" he asked, grinning.  "One second you're
yelling at me and the next second you're trying to get me naked!"

   "You have a lot to learn about women," she said, unbuttoning her dress.
She had left her bra off for him ...  her panties too, when Marian had told
her he was coming home.

   He just stood and stared at her for a while, when she lay back on the
bed, naked.  Her hair had grown back out, and there were only the tiniest
traces of tissue damage where teeth marks had been so vivid before.  He
crawled onto the bed, and got his face right next to her stomach.  He
imagined it was bigger, swelling slightly, but he couldn't really tell.  He
ran his hand over it again.

   "Are you in there?" he said softly.  "I'm your Daddy, and I love you
already.  I don't even care if you're a girl."

   Flossie slapped his shoulder.

   He punished her by not stopping to let her breathe, and leaving her a
limp, sweating pile of bones.

   As they lay there afterwards, she asked him about Kansas City, and the
house, and the academy.  He gave her sparing details.  It was a long trip
back, and he could fill her in then.

   "Are we going to have enough money?" she asked.  "It sounds expensive."

   "We're fine on that count," he said.  "There are a couple of things you
don't know."

   "So tell me," she said, running her hand over his chest.

   "We'll show you," he said.  "Tomorrow."

   "I thought we were leaving today," she said.  It was clear that she
would not miss Catfish Hollow.

   "I think you'll decide it was worth hanging around," he said.  "Now, as
much as I hate to do it, I have to leave.  I have a couple of things to do
while I'm in town.  I'll come back later if I'm still welcome."

   She rolled over on top of him, her face in his.

   "Can I come?" she asked.

   "It would be better if you didn't," he answered truthfully.

   "Why?"

   "Because I'm going to visit a bunch of farmers, driving there in the
car, and you'd be seen with me," he said.  "I'd rather get you out of town
quietly."

   She morose.  "I can't wait to leave here," she said sadly.

   "Tomorrow, probably," he promised.

   Chapter 36

   Nathan didn't pick up Curtis Lee for this part of the mission either. 
They had already talked about it.

   He stopped at Jesse's place first.  His mother came to the screen door
and stood, warily.  Yes, she remembered him.  No, Jesse wasn't at home.  He
was out in the fields.  It was harvest.

   He explained that he and Curtis Lee had decided to do a little business
on the side, up in Kansas City, selling antiques.  He inquired if she had
anything he might be interested in, and offered cash money.

   She laughed.  "Everything we HAVE is an antique." She relaxed.  "The
oldest thing I think we have is the coffee pot.  You interested in that?"

   He asked to see it, and she let him in.  He pretended to examine the
dented old pot and pulled out a hundred dollars, which he handed her.

   "This is all I can give you for it," he said sadly.  "But we'll be back,
occasionally, and interested in more."

   "That's a hundred dollars," she said, staring at the money fanned out in
her hand.

   "Yes, Ma'am," he said.

   "You're giving me a hundred dollars for an old coffee pot?" she asked,
incredulous.

   "I'd appreciate it if you let Jesse spend some of that money," he said
gently.  "It's been nice seeing you again."

   He took the pot with him, and tossed it in the back seat.  He repeated
the scene everywhere he went.

   At Johnnie Sue's, he asked her mother if she'd been making anything, and
the woman was almost ashamed to show him woven hot pads, made out of old
rug yarn.  There was an old brass coat hook on the wall.  He gave her a
hundred dollars for that, and four hot pads, and then discovered that the
coat hook was nailed to the wall, and he didn't have the proper tools to
remove it without damaging it.

   "I'll pick that up next time we're in town," he said.  He took the four
hot pads, and left the woman standing, staring after him with the money in
her hands.

   Moses was also out at harvest.  He had done some woodcarvings of
something that was supposed to be a horse, but looked more like a mule from
mars.  That and an old sausage grinder brought a hundred dollars.  Mrs. 
Finshaw was crying when he left.  They needed a repair on a machine that he
couldn't do himself, and hadn't had the money to pay the blacksmith in town
to do it.

   Minnie Cripps, Luthor's mother, smiled at him and invited him in,
offering a glass of sweet tea.  Luthor was working, and when he spun his
tale for her she looked at him askance.  "You went off to be a policeman,
and that's all my boy can talk about now, and you're selling antiques too?"

   "Yes, Ma'am," he said calmly.

   "And you came all the way back down here, just to pick up something to
peddle up there?" She was smiling, but her eyes were alert.

   "I'm just trying to help out, Ma'am," he said.

   She had an old flat iron, that was being used to hold down a stack of
newspapers.  "Like that?" she asked.

   "That would be fine, Ma'am," he said.

   "How much?" she asked.

   "A hundred dollars," he said simply.

   Her eyes got wet too.  She picked up the flat iron and handed it to him.
"Bless you, boy.  I'm not going to ask any more questions.  I don't know
why you're doing this, but bless your heart."

   "We'll be back, I 'spect," he said.  "Needing more things to sell."

   "We?"

   "Curtis Lee and me."

   "That boy is helping with this crazy idea?" she said, surprised.

   "Yes, Ma'am."

   "Well then bless his heart too."

   "Thank you, Ma'am.  I'll tell him."

   His last stop was at the Brown farm, where Ruth Ann met him at the door
with a smile.  Her belly was bulging, and he complimented her on the
impending arrival.  When he asked her if she had anything to sell, she was
at a complete loss.  She insisted that he talk to Lester, who was in the
barn repairing a piece of machinery.

   He scratched his head when he heard Nathan's story.

   "Got all manner of old junk lying around," he said.  "Take your pick."

   Nathan spied an old cross-cut saw hanging on a wall.  One wooden handle
was broken off, and it was thick with rust.  Lester pulled it down and then
goggled as Nathan offered him two hundred dollars for it.

   "I can't take that!" he gasped, looking almost fearful.  "That saw ain't
worth two dollars!"

   "Consider it a late wedding gift from Curtis Lee Waggoner," said Nathan.
"He said to tell you he was sorry we couldn't get it here for the wedding."

   The man actually cried, twisting his hands, until Nathan forced the
money into them.  He almost carressed the money.

   "You got no idee what this means." He sniffed, wiping his broad nose
with the back of his sleeve.

   "Maybe you can buy Ruth Ann a new dress," suggested Nathan.  He shook
the man's hand and left the farmer staring at the money in one hand, and
then at the other, that a white man had just shaken.  He got the idea that
Lester Brown didn't know which hand was more confusing.

   ***************************

   He stopped by Curtis Lee's house and showed him all the junk in the back
seat.  Curtis Lee asked how it had gone, and he described the wary and
blank looks.  He also told him what Luthor's mother had said.

   "You want to hang around a day or two?" asked Nathan.

   "If I do, I'll be sorry," said Curtis Lee.

   "My Mamma sort of found out how Bernadette feels about you," said
Nathan. "Bernie asked about you right off, right in front of her."

   "Do I need to get out of town tonight?" asked Curtis Lee.

   "I don't think so.  If I know Bernie, she's going to come over here
tonight, and if she doesn't find you, she's going to be a mite pissed off."

   "Your Mamma would let her do that?" asked Curtis Lee, amazed.

   "Oh no.  In fact, she already said Bernie can't ever see you again.  But
you know Bernie.  And, as long as we leave tomorrow, I s'pect my mother
might not make too much of a fuss.  Just keep it in your pants."

   "You think she'll let YOU keep it in YOUR pants?" Curtis Lee grinned.

   "She won't have a choice.  I'll be at Flossie's."

   Curtis Lee looked thoughtful.  "Hey, you know, how about if I go to Miss
Flossie's tonight too.  You could tell her I was going to be there.  She
could meet me there, and then nothing could happen."

   Nathan sighed.  "Well, it's better than having her sneaking around in
your part of town and getting caught.  She might not show.  Mamma was going
to talk to them both when I left."

   "If that happens, I'll just take a little walk.  What about the gold?"

   "I figure to get it, and maybe a couple of those rifles, and then
leave," said Nathan.

   "With Miss Flossie there?"

   "She's going to marry me, Curtis Lee.  She's going to find out about it
sooner or later.  Some of that is ours.  I think she'll understand."

   "Suits me," said Curtis Lee simply.

   ***************************

   Nathan went home for supper.  His father acted like he wasn't even
there. His mother asked him all about the police academy, but not anything
about where he was living, or what it was like.  He told her he'd write her
letters, and call sometimes.

   His sisters sat and ate, eyes warily darting between their mother,
father, and brother.  They obviously wanted to ask questions of their own,
but weren't doing that.  Neither looked mad any more, but there was a
residual of fear in their eyes.  When supper was over, Marian began
clearing the dishes.

   "Girls, after you help me with this, you can take your brother down and
show him where they're going to build the new school.  Your father and I
would like a little private time tonight."

   Harvey looked up, and Marian smiled at him.  His face relaxed a little,
and he got up and went into the living room, where he turned on the TV.

   Nathan went to his old room, which hadn't changed at all.  He got more
clothing, and his doorknobs.  There wasn't much else to take out and put in
the trunk of the car.  He was sitting in the driver's seat, his legs out of
the open door, listening to the radio when his sisters skipped out of the
house.  They got in, looking all around like his six year old car was brand
new.  He made them sit down, and then drove off slowly.

   "How'd it go?" he asked.

   "I've never seen her that mad," said Hilda Mae.  "She yelled, and she
cried, and then she settled down and we talked for a long time."

   "You OK?" he asked Bernadette, whose happy mood had evaporated.

   "She says I can't see him again until I graduate."

   "She said that?" he asked.  "I mean she said you CAN see him again after
you graduate?"

   Bernadette slumped.  "She says that then she won't have any say in the
matter.  She expects me to come up there and live with you after I
graduate."

   "What about Daddy?" he asked.

   "She's not going to tell him," said Hilda Mae.  "I'm not allowed to see
Moses except at school.  She said she's going to get some of those new
birth control pill things, and that we have to take them every day."

   "You're kidding!" he gasped.  He had heard two women arguing about the
recently released pills.  One said it was against nature to stop
conception, and the other said she had enough children, and didn't want any
more.

   "I HAVE to see Curtis Lee while he's here," moaned Bernadette.  "I just
HAVE to!" She looked like she'd lost her last friend.  "He'll forget all
about me if I don't."

   Nathan laughed.  "He's not ever going to forget about you.  You know how
many times he wondered what you were doing while we were supposed to be
studying for a test?  It had to be a hundred.  Every time we did something
cool, he'd talk about how he wished you were there so you could see him
acting like a cop.  I got sick and tired of him moaning and groaning about
how much he missed you."

   "Really?" She perked up.  They rode in silence for a while.  They hadn't
told him where to go, so he just drove.  They were out in the country now.
"You know, we missed you too," said Bernadette.  "Mamma told us about Miss
Flossie while she was talking to us.  She said you got her pregnant."

   Nathan didn't know where this was going.  "Yeah," he said softly. 
"We're taking her back with us tomorrow morning."

   "Stop," said Bernadette.  "I'm horny."

   "I thought you just HAD to see Curtis Lee tonight," he said.

   "I do, but I'm horny now.  Maybe if you take care of me now, I won't let
him put it in me tonight."

   Nathan sighed.  "He's going to go over to Flossie's tonight.  If you're
going to see him, it will have to be there."

   "We can't do anything there!" she moaned.

   "I can't believe you want to do anything at all!" said Hilda Mae. 
"Nathan got Miss Flossie PREGNANT doing that, Bernie!  I'm even GLAD I
can't see Moses outside of school."

   "Well, if I can't do anything tonight, you have to help me not be horny
any more!" said Bernadette firmly.  "Hildy's been acting all weird lately
too, because she hasn't been able to see Moses.  Find someplace to stop
this car, cause I want something in my pussy!"

   "You know I won't do that, Bernie," said Nathan patiently.  "You can
suck me one more time, and I'll lick you real good, but that's all. 
Besides, didn't you complain it almost killed you last time?"

   "What last time?" said Hilda Mae, sitting up straight.  She turned to
her sister.  "Did you get him to put it in you and you didn't even TELL
me?!"

   "It wasn't like that," said Bernadette.  "I was mad.  It was right after
that very first time that Curtis Lee accidentally went in me, and you know
how I felt about how Nathan was supposed to be the first.  I kind of
tricked him in his room while you were asleep."

   "But that's not fair!" squealed Hilda Mae.

   "He almost killed me.  He WOULD have killed you."

   "So why are you begging for it like some tramp now?" asked Hilda Mae,
obviously upset.

   "I know how to do it now," said Bernadette.  "And if I can't have the
man I love, then I'm going to have the other man I love." She said it like
it made sense.

   "I got Flossie pregnant," Nathan reminded her.

   "It's a safe time right now," said Bernadette promptly.  "You can just
squirt all you want in me.  Or you can not squirt and save it for Miss
Flossie tonight.  I don't care, as long as I don't feel horny when we're
done!"

   Nathan had always been of two minds about his sisters.  On the one hand,
he felt like he had cheated on them with Flossie.  On the other hand, he
felt like he would be cheating on Flossie if he acceded to her demand.  On
a third hand, the thought of spurting in Bernadette, something he had
dreamed of doing for years, was almost irresistible.

   "Well, I'm horny too," announced Hilda Mae.  "And I know how to do it
now too!"

   Nathan groaned.

   To say they wore him down by pestering him, is to give him too much
credit.  He had always loved his sisters in a way most brothers don't, and
the easiness of their illicit relationship had always been a joy.  He ended
up parking the car by a bridge that went over a creek that didn't have
enough water in it to make it much of a draw for fishermen, and they walked
downstream until they found a grassy area where they could lie down.

   The girls shared his prick, using their mouths.  Bernadette wanted
another lesson on how Hilda Mae was able to press her nose clear against
his pubes.  She was trying to do what Hilda Mae had told her, when Hilda
Mae put her hand on the back of her sister's head, and shoved down hard.

   Suddenly, Bernadette's nose brushed the same pubes.  She choked and
pulled off immediately, but in the process learned that it COULD be done.
It had hurt her throat, though, so she settled for sitting on Nathan's
face, while Hilda Mae deep throated him.  Both girls got their cookies.

   Then, Bernadette crawled on top of him, and slowly wedged his prick into
her pussy.  She did it in little bits, working herself onto him until it
hurt, and then lying down to kiss him.  It took her five minutes before she
sat up and stared down.  All she saw was her stiff clitty, poking into his
hair.

   "I did it," she breathed.  "I feel like I swallowed a watermelon or
something."

   She lay down on him again, and then used her arms to slide back and
forth.  She came hard and quickly, moaning and thrusting herself down on
his thick column.  She stopped thrusting just in time to keep him from
flushing her full of brother cum.  She didn't sit back up, but crawled
forward, pulling herself off of him while Hilda Mae watched, her eyes huge,
from behind her sister.

   Bernadette rolled over on her back in the grass, panting.  "I knew it
would be good," she gasped.

   Nathan looked at Hilda Mae.  Her breasts were heaving, just from having
watched.  "You want to try that, little sister?"

   She licked her lips.  Then she got up and crawled on him like Bernadette
had.  Oddly, it she didn't have as much trouble working her way onto him.
She also sat up, and did thrusts back and forth with her hips, loving the
full feeling of her weight pressing him deep.  She reached down and diddled
her clit with two fingers, and her pussy muscles started milking him as she
came.

   Nathan warned her, and she got up, drawing her pussy off of him slowly.

   "I don't want that thing to go soft for a while," she panted.  "I liked
that a lot!"

   Nathan rolled over and crawled on top of Bernadette.  Her eyes flew open
and he leaned down to suckle at a nipple.  She spread her legs and gripped
him.

   "Easy," she whispered, pulling it to her portal.

   He was as easy as he could be, which, thankfully, was easy enough.  She
went "OOF" as he slid all the way in her, and then sighed.  "You don't go
as deep, but you stretch me more," she huffed.

   He started rodding her like he had rodded Flossie, not letting her rest,
and soon he was pounding into her rapidly.  She had an orgasm, and then
another as he went in and stayed there, grinding her clit flat.

   He kissed her, and then said "I have to stop or I'll shoot."

   She kissed him back and sighed as he dragged it out of her.  She felt
completely relaxed.

   Hilda Mae was spread wide for him, holding her legs with her hands under
her knees.  As he got into position, he lifted her legs and rested them on
his shoulders, bending her almost double.  Her buttocks came up off the
grass as he fed her his prick again.

   "Ohhhh Bernie," she groaned.  "He's going so deep.  I needed this so
baaaad." Nathan rodded her too, scooting her back along the grass, he was
thrusting so hard.  Bernadette crawled around to fondle his hanging balls
as they flopped loosely.  Hilda Mae went rigid and squealed as he kept
slamming into her.  Fifteen seconds later she started teasing him.

   "You gonna squirt Nathan?  I love to feel Moses squirting in me.  When
Mamma gives me the birth control pills I'm gonna sneak off and get him to
squirt in me a lot.  You gonna squirt in me like you squirted in Flossie?
You got her pregnant with that beautiful thing.  You gonna get me pregnant
too Nathan?"

   He groaned and cried out as he dug deep and tried, with all his might,
to make her pregnant.  Bernadette squeezed his balls gently, and watched as
thick white cream began oozing out around her sister's tightly clasping
pussy lips.

   "It's a very good thing it's a safe time for us," she said, her voice
trembling.  "He squirts a LOT!"

   ***************************

   Nathan took the girls home.  It was getting dark, and there were no
lights on in the house when they went in.  Their parents weren't trying to
be quiet.  Nathan waited while Hilda Mae and Bernadette made up a fake body
under Bernadette's covers.  Hilda Mae crawled into bed, blew them both a
kiss, and pulled the covers over her head.  After making sure the window
was open and there was a box for Bernadette to use to climb in on, they
also rigged Nathan's window, just in case someone closed the other one. 
Then she went with him to Flossie's.

   Curtis Lee was already there.

   Flossie looked on worriedly as Bernadette all but tackled Curtis Lee. 
Their kiss was so long, and so ardent, that she motioned to Nathan to do
something.  He went and kissed her, figuring that might help.  Then he
nudged her toward her bedroom.  She pushed ineffectually at him, shaking
her head, and he pinched both of her nipples gently.  She made faces of
outrage, and he began unbuttoning her dress and kissing the bare skin that
was exposed.

   Finally she couldn't take it any more.

   "You two behave yourselves!" she called out as he backed her into the
room.  "We'll just be right in here!"

   "Yes Ma'am," came Bernadette's voice.

   ***************************

   Bernadette HAD been relaxed, her horniness gone after being fucked
royally.  But seeing Curtis Lee had brought it all back again.  Like
Flossie, he resisted, but it did no good.  She worked his penis out of his
zipper, and tried the new thing she had learned.  His penis didn't hurt her
throat, and it was easier to get it past that place that made her gag.  He
hissed as she took almost all of him in, and leaned back in the chair, his
neck muscles suddenly unable to keep his head up.

   She worked him over until he was vibrating, but she knew him well enough
now to know when he was about to spurt, and she pulled off of him before he
did.

   "I want you inside me," she whispered, rubbing her breasts against his
face.  She stopped long enough to unbutton her shirt, and then rubbed her
bare breasts against his face again.

   It had been two months for Curtis Lee too, and he didn't stand a chance.
She put him on the dirt floor, and played the game she had always loved,
sliding her pussy lips along his prick, and then nosing it into her.  On
him, she sat up, taking him deep, and on him she milked him until he filled
her with his juice.

   ***************************

   In the bedroom, Flossie was trying to be quiet.  When she crawled on the
bed naked, Nathan followed her, bending down to nose between her legs from
behind, licking at her.  She buried her face in the pillow, letting him do
this new thing that felt so erotic somehow.  Like Moses had done with Hilda
Mae, Nathan kneed his way up to slip his prick into her from behind.  With
his hands on her hips, he pulled her onto him as she moaned into the
pillow. Her hand came back to slap at him, telling him to stop, but he
ignored her.  He began rocking into her gently, and then lay on her back to
thrust harder, his hand snaking under them to feel for her clit and rub it.
She squealed, forcing her face deeper into the pillow, and her whole body
shook as she came.

   Feeling no particular urgency, but still able to make it happen, Nathan
stiffened, groaned, and filled her up, like he had filled up Hilda Mae.

   ***************************

   This time, Nathan stayed all night.  It didn't really matter any more,
since he was taking her away with him the next day, and they'd get married.
He woke early, and found that, while Bernadette had gone home, Curtis Lee
had slept in a chair.  He hadn't planned that, but she left him weak and
happy, and it was just easier to stay there.

   Flossie bounced out of bed, so full of energy was she.  When she'd first
come back to Catfish Hollow, she'd had big dreams, but they had faded over
the years.  Now they were back.  She fixed her last breakfast in this
house, looking around and wondering if she'd ever see it again.  She hadn't
thought about what would happen to it when she left.  But the future was so
exciting, it didn't really matter to her.  As an "asset" it wasn't much.

   They swung by Curtis Lee's mother's house, and he picked up his
belongings.  Nathan then drove back, past Flossie's house to the bridge
over Foster's creek.  She asked where they were going, of course, but they
just smiled.  When she saw the treehouse, she was amazed.  She had roamed
these woods all her life, and the newness and extent of the treehouse
looked completely wrong to her.  When they started digging, she was even
more curious.

   When she saw the chest, and then it was opened in front of her
disbelieving eyes, she had to sit down.  They transferred fifty coins to a
bag, and reburied the rest, explaining to her where it had come from, how
it was found, and what they were doing with it.  She had seen the
"antiques" in the back of the car when she got in, asking what in the world
all that was, but they had put her off.  Now she understood.

   When they drove from the creek to a road that went half a mile from the
mansion, and struck off across a newly harvested field of cotton, she
followed them, again in suspense because they wouldn't tell her what they
were doing.  She had seen the mansion as a child, and the pit that now was
exposed, leading to the cellar, was, again, all wrong in her memory.  When
they brought out two rifles and scopes, she was astonished, never having
believed the old wreck could contain so many interesting things.

   She came up with theories about the gold and the rifles all the way to
eastern Arkansas.  Her favorite was that the rifles had been part of a plan
for sharpshooters to assassinate particularly important people during the
war.  The gold had been to hire them, or to get food or more arms for the
Confederacy, but something had gone wrong before the plan could be
completed.  That no one had come back for the gold, suggested that the
original owners of the property had all died during the war, without
passing on the information about the gold, or its location.

   Really, it didn't matter.  What mattered to Flossie was the irony of the
situation.  After all the horror the South had perpetrated on her race, and
the persistent belief, even up to the present, that the people of color in
the South were less than equal, those same people had left riches behind
that would practically set her up for life.  The same white men who had
abducted her ancestors, and brought them to America against their will, had
left behind something that would make her life, and the lives of a number
of other folks in Catfish Hollow, better than they could have dreamed.

   There was a kind of justice in it ...  not enough justice to make good
all that had been done wrong.  But those men's money, and the fact that she
had stolen the heart of Harvey Wilson's son, was enough for her.

   Chapter 37

   The irony of the money wasn't the last of the ironies, or justice that
resulted from Harvey Wilson taking his family to Catfish Hollow, and
promising to ruin the life of the only teacher willing to teach the
children of that community.  There would be more to come in the next year,
though none of them knew that then.

   When men's eyes lit up, and then became guarded, as they examined the
Civil War era sniper rifle Nathan Wilson took them for appraisal, their
off-hand offers rang false to the mind of a newly trained observer.  He
didn't tell them who he was, or what he did, but the reaction was always
the same: greed.  It shone in their eyes as they fondled the rifle and
accompanying scope.  They usually said the guns were old and probably
shot-out, but were interesting as a curiosity.  One man offered thirty
dollars, and another fifty.  At that point, Nathan took the gun to a
retired Police officer who ran the armory of the KCMO Police Department,
who did some research.  He found a list of rifles sold to a Northern man in
1864.  The man was known to be a Southern sympathizer during the war, but
nothing had been proven against him.  The list included the rifle he had
been researching, identified by serial number, one of seven purchased at
the same time.  His examination of the weapon, which he took completely
apart, suggested it had never been fired.  The scope was not listed in the
records, but it would have been made by a different company, so that wasn't
strange.  The man showed him how to mount the scope, and they left it
mounted on the rifle.

   Nathan thanked him.  "You know, I might know where the other six are,"
he said.

   The old gunsmith looked at him with penetrating eyes.  "You lay your
hands on the other six weapons in that lot, and let me negotiate with a
couple of museums, and I'll make us both rich men."

   "I might be able to do that," said Nathan.

   The man stared at him.  "I can't make this happen if they're stolen," he
said.

   "You can check with every police department on the continent, and you
won't find a report about that rifle, or the others," said Nathan.

   "You're from down South ...  aren't you?" asked the man.

   Nathan nodded.

   "Rich men, young fella.  Both of us, and that's with me only taking ten
percent."

   ******************************

   Nathan couldn't schedule another trip back to get the rest of the rifles
for months.  In the meantime, he and Flossie stood in front of a Justice of
the Peace, and got married.  The man didn't bat an eye.

   Flossie, with nothing to do during the day, took walks on the farm she
now lived on.  It was too late in the season to plant a garden, but she
planned out a big one for next year.  She didn't mind that Curtis Lee lived
with them.  He sometimes took the car and went someplace, or worked a
different patrol shift than Nathan did, and she and her husband had plenty
of time to be alone together.  Her belly grew, and Nathan continued to have
long one-sided conversations with his daughter, as he now addressed her. 
No names had been chosen yet.

   Then Curtis Lee bought his own car.  If he and Nathan were working
together, they left a car at home.  If they worked different shifts, there
was still a car available to provide Flossie with transportation.  One of
the first things she did was inquire about teaching school.  She found that
the schools in Kansas City were still segregated, not by law, but by custom
and population density.  Black people lived in the same areas, so the
schools in those areas were attended by black children.  Whites lived in
other areas, and their children filled those schools.  A new school, in the
black part of Kansas City, Kansas, called Douglass, was being built, and
would be opened in September of 1963.  It would have 25 classrooms, a
library, offices and an all-purpose room.  With this expansion of classroom
space, the administration was eager to hire her to work in the new school.
That would give her time to have the baby and do some continuing education
at the University Of Missouri, Kansas City, which she knew would be needed
to acclimate her to Northern schools.  The money from the gold had been
banked, toward buying their own house some day, and while Nathan's job
supported them, she loved teaching and wanted to work.

   ******************************

   Nathan and Curtis Lee were not able to return to Catfish Hollow until
May, a month after Flossie had delivered to him a nine pound boy, with
caramel colored skin, and kinky black hair over a face that, other than the
color, resembled any white child.

   They had not, based on both Flossie's and Marian's intuition, thought of
any names for a boy.  Nathan teased her, offering names like "Surprise" and
"Oops".  Flossie insisted on Nathan Junior.

   "I like a man named Nathan," she said, ignoring her husband and talking
to the baby, who was sucking lustily at one swollen breast.  "And you eat
like a hog, just like that man," she cooed.  "So I just have to call you
Nathan."

   Once it was clear that the baby was as healthy as a horse, and the
mother was well recovered from an extremely difficult labor with a baby so
big, Nathan took a picture with a Kodak Brownie camera, had two prints
made, and he and Curtis Lee took off to deliver the picture to his mother.

   They needed to hurry, this time, having to make the trip and get back in
just two days.  Their days off this week were Wednesday and Thursday, and
they had to be back for the Friday shift.  To that end, they drove through
the night and delivered the money first, while the kids were in school. 
Their thinly disguised excuse for enriching the families of their school
mates came completely undone when each family was handed five hundred
dollars in cash, which amounted to three quarters of their normal yearly
income as sharecroppers.

   "I can't take this kind of money for that junk!" said a completely
overwhelmed Minnie Cripps, pointing vaguely at the things Luthor had
gathered together "for the next time Nathan comes shopping".

   "Ma'am," said Nathan.  "I don't have time to argue with you.  We're kind
of in a hurry."

   "But this is CRAZY!" she moaned.  Her eyes took on a wary look.  "Where
did you get this money?" she asked.

   "All I can tell you is that it's part of Luthor's share of some good
fortune that came our way," said Nathan, beginning to worry.  He hadn't
thought he'd have to beg people to take money.  "I really can't tell you
more than that," he said firmly.

   "It's not stolen ...  is it?" she asked, backing away from him.  That
was the only thing she could think of that would account for such an amount
of money.

   "No, Ma'am," he said firmly.  "I promise you that.  I have to go.  I'll
just leave it here." He put the money on the table, and backed up.  He
hated to lie, but he could already hear this woman demanding that her son
tell her what was going on.  If he did, it could ruin things.  "And Ma'am,
please don't ask Luthor about this.  He doesn't know about this.  There
will be more, if things continue to work out, but people asking a lot of
questions could stop that if they wanted to.  We're just trying to help our
friends, that's all.  We wouldn't have driven all the way down here just to
cause you trouble.  This is just meant to help out."

   She followed him out to the car, where Curtis Lee was waiting, in the
driver's seat.  When she saw him, she looked at Nathan.  Tears started
streaming down her face.  He gave her a quick hug, and got in the car.  She
stood there until they were out of sight.

   It was much the same at the other houses.  Jesse's father was at home,
and tried to turn the money down, fearing it was some trap that the white
boy was manufacturing.  Only when Curtis Lee took him aside and spoke at
length with him, did he accept it.

   Mrs.  Finshaw had stared him straight in the eye and asked what she had
to do for the money.  When he'd told her he was simply trying to buy
antiques, she'd snorted and suggested that he tell his mother that this
kind of thing wasn't necessary.

   "My Mamma?" he asked confused.  "She doesn't know anything about this,
Ma'am."

   Curtis Lee had also had to talk to her.  She looked puzzled when she
finally accepted the money and watched them drive off.

   ******************************

   Nathan dropped Curtis Lee off at Flossie's house, which sat,
undisturbed. Flossie still hadn't gotten around to trying to figure out
what to do with it.  Her clothes were gone, but most other things had been
left behind, including the furniture.  Curtis Lee said He'd sleep there
that night, and they could get an early start in the morning.  Nathan
planned on staying at his parents' house, where he expected to be kept up
late talking to his mother.

   His unannounced arrival caused an uproar, at least with the women in the
house.  When he got there, only his mother was home, and she almost
collapsed when he said he had a picture of her new grandson.

   "I didn't know if you'd want to see it or not," he said, nervous now.

   "Of COURSE I want to see it, you goose!" she said, a catch in her voice.

   When he pulled it out of his wallet, she snatched it from his hands and
stared at it for long moments.

   "He has your nose," she said softly, "and your chin too.  Ohhhh he's so
cute!"

   "Thanks Mamma," said Nathan, relieved.  He had elected to use color
film, but the obvious mixed race of the baby had caused him to wish he
hadn't when he got the prints back from the drugstore.

   She sniffled for a while, trying not to cry, but held on to the picture
when he reached for it.

   "This is mine!" she said, wiping her eyes.  "I'll make sure to hide it
well, but you can't have it back."

   "How are the girls?" he asked, finally.

   Marian threw up her hands.

   "I've been helping the new teacher at school.  It didn't take me long to
see those mooney-eyed looks that Hilda Mae and that Moses boy were trading.
It's been everything I could do to keep them apart.  Than goodness he's
going to graduate and go up there with you to be a policeman.  And
Bernadette is just so surly, Nathan.  It's like her best friend died or
something!  She's going to graduate in three weeks, and then I don't know
what I'll do."

   "Are you still mad at me?" he asked.  Her letters, after that last visit
had been somewhat stiff for a few weeks, but had gotten much more friendly
since then.

   "Oh, I know it wasn't you," she said, getting up to get him a piece of
cake.  "There weren't any suitable boys around, and we couldn't help that."
She looked at the picture of her grandson again.  "What am I going to do if
all my grandbabies look like this?" she asked.

   "Love them?" he suggested carefully.

   "Of COURSE I'll love them!" she said.  "But he's so ...  brown!"

   "Send them to college, then," he said.  "Maybe they'll meet some ... 
suitable boys ...  there.  You know, forget all about ...  the others."

   She looked at her son with pity in her eyes.  "Don't you go trying to
make me feel better.  You don't know anything about women, I can plainly
see that.  Even if we could afford to send Bernadette to college, which is
no fit place for a girl, if you ask me, all she'd do is go off to find
Curtis Lee in Kansas City.  And Hilda Mae's no better.  I know she sneaks
off to meet Moses sometimes.  I can't lock her in her room, but I wish I
could sometimes.  Mable Finshaw and I are at our wit's ends!"

   "You've met Mrs.  Finshaw?" he asked carefully.  That explained her
reaction when, not two hours ago, he'd tried to hand the woman five hundred
dollars.

   "I had to talk to her when school started and I saw how smitten they
were with each other," his mother said.  "She's just as aware as I am how
wrong it is for them to think like that towards each other.  I see her
every couple of weeks or so.  It takes both of us to ride herd on those
two, and they still manage to get alone every once in a while, despite
everything we do.  We threaten and threaten and it just doesn't do any good
at all!  As I said, we're both relieved that he'll be coming North to go
that police academy of yours in July."

   "Maybe you should let them get together, with supervision," said Nathan.
"You know, chaperoned like."

   Marian shot him a disbelieving look.  "In THIS town, Nathan?  What have
they done to you up North?  Addled your brain?  Your father would horsewhip
that boy if he ever showed up around here, and me for letting him!"

   Nathan sighed.  He knew it would be even worse if someone saw Hilda Mae
visiting the Finshaw farm.

   "I may have to send them up to live with you when they graduate," said
his mother.  "I haven't the foggiest idea what else to do.  But I know that
if I do ...  I'll never get to see ANY of my grandbabies!"

   Nathan almost groaned.  Having his sisters around could cause real
trouble, if only because he'd suddenly be responsible for them.  That
didn't even count the way the siblings felt about each other.

   Marian looked at the picture of Nathan Junior again.  "I just know that
if I send Bernadette up there, I expect I'll be looking at another picture
like this before I'm ready."

   "We got married, Mamma," he said, remembering that he and Flossie hadn't
told anyone yet.

   She looked at her son, standing tall.  He was a good boy, even if he had
strange tastes in women.  And the product of this crazy union was gorgeous,
even if his skin was too brown, and his hair was black and curly.  She
ached to hold that little piece of her son, though she couldn't admit that
to him out loud.

   "Well, I suppose that was the right thing to do, considering what you
did to the poor girl," she said, sighing.  "But that doesn't mean I'll look
forward to ..." She stopped and sat down.  "Why can't children grow up like
they're supposed to?" she moaned.

   "I'm sorry I disappointed you," said Nathan sadly.

   She looked up at him.  "You're not a disappointment, Nathan.  I never
once even thought about you becoming a policeman, and helping people like
that.  I suppose I never thought about you growing up at all, or what that
might mean.  This is all just so strange to my tired old brain.  I don't
know what to think, or how to feel."

   "I'm happy, Mamma," he said.  "I'm really happy, and I feel like I'm
doing the right things.  I think you raised me up pretty good."

   "Well," she corrected him, without thinking.

   He laughed, a great long belly laugh, and told her about the first time
Flossie had corrected him for misusing the word "good" when it should have
been "well".  "I was so mad at her I wanted to hit her," he said.  "Now I'm
married to her and love her more than anybody except maybe you and my
sisters."

   Marian listened with a warm glow in her heart.  He SOUNDED happy, and
that was as much as any mother ever wanted for her children.  Still, she
couldn't just let her daughters flout convention too.

   "I told you you didn't know much about women," she said.

   ******************************

   When the girls got home from school, and saw Nathan's car, they crashed
into the house like it was on fire and they were there to save everyone. 
Their mother was in the kitchen, working on supper, and when they didn't
see who they were searching for, their natural instinct was to look in
Nathan's old room for him.  He was, in fact, lying on his bed, napping.

   Marian heard the uproar as they came screaming into the house, and found
them both on top of their brother, kissing him wildly.

   "HERE NOW!" she barked, as the two startled girls looked up.  Nathan had
a weak grin on his face.  "Crawling all over a man in bed is NOT
appropriate behavior for two girls in the blush of youth!" she said.  Then
her eyes went glazed for a second and, almost to herself she said "Though
it IS at least a white man."

   Bernadette took her hand off her brother's crotch, hoping her mother
hadn't seen it there squeezing, and she tried to put an outraged look on
her face.

   "MU-THER!" she squeaked.  "How could you THINK that way?!  He's our
brother!  We just haven't seen him in a long time."

   "Can I show them?" asked Marian excitedly, reaching into her apron
pocket.

   "It's your picture," laughed Nathan.

   Marian pulled at her daughters and huddled with them.  There were the
expected squeals of excitement, and they talked about how much the baby
looked like him, darting looks at the man on the bed, who was now sitting
up, grinning.

   Then Marian was back to being a mother.

   "Now," she said, folding her arms under her breasts.  "Don't you think
that just because I think this baby is beautiful, that that means you two
can go acting like harlots!" She faced Hilda Mae.  "I know you and Moses
snuck off to be alone last Thursday night, when you said you were going to
the Library.  Mable says Moses went to the library that night too!"

   "Ohhh Mamma," said Hilda Mae, with an exaggerated tone.  "We just
talked, right there in the library."

   "No you didn't!" said Marian heatedly.  "Mrs.  Hopkins said you both
left at eight and you didn't get back home until nine.  It doesn't take an
hour to get home!"

   "We just talked, Mamma," said Hilda Mae, looking down.

   "Did you take your pills today?" asked their mother.  "Both of you?"

   "MAMMA!" squealed both girls.

   "Your brother is a grown man.  He knows what goes on between boys and
girls!" She waved the picture in her hand.  "Now, did you take those pills
today?"

   "No, Mamma," they said in unison.

   "We take them when we go to bed," added Bernadette.  "Though why I have
to take them is beyond me.  I don't even HAVE a boyfriend!"

   "Moses Finshaw is NOT Hilda Mae's boyfriend!" said Marian.  "And you're
going to graduate in three weeks, and you won't tell me what you're going
to do then, or if you're staying here, or going who knows where after that.
What am I going to DO with you two?" she moaned.

   Neither girl said anything.  It was obvious to Nathan that this was an
argument they'd had before.

   "Supper will be in an hour," said Marian finally.  "There will be no
talk at the table about Nathan Junior, is that clear?"

   All three of them answered in unison: "Yes Mamma."

   Marian turned on her heel and left.  The girls tackled Nathan more
quietly this time.  After kisses that left him helplessly erect, they
relented.

   "Did Curtis Lee come with you this time?" asked Bernadette in an excited
whisper.

   "I'm not telling you until after supper," said Nathan.

   "HE'S HERE?" she gasped.  "WHERE IS HE NATHAN?"

   "I'm not telling you until after supper," he said quietly.  "I want you
to act normal during supper."

   "Nathan!" she pleaded.

   "Not until after supper," he said doggedly.  "And then only if you act
normal."

   Bernadette flounced out of the room.  Hilda Mae just looked satisfied
that now, she got her brother all to herself.

   ******************************

   Supper was surprisingly docile.  Harvey nodded to his son, but didn't
say anything, or ask why he was back home.  Marian strained, at first, to
carry on normal conversation, until Nathan started telling stories about
what being a policeman was like in the big city.  He already had lots of
war stories to tell, and he held them enthralled all through supper.

   "Hey," said Bernadette, during dessert.  "You know what I heard today?
There's a new store over in Flaerty that opened up, and they have all the
latest fashions.  Could Nathan drive us up there to see it?"

   "They'll be closed," said Harvey shortly.

   "Yes, but at least we could look in the window and see what kinds of
things they have," said Bernadette, not looking at Nathan.  "If it's pretty
things, he could take us back next Saturday."

   "I have to leave tomorrow," said Nathan.  "I have to be back at work
Friday afternoon."

   To be honest, it was both girls pleading to go that finally wore Marian
down.  It didn't occur to her that with both girls being with their
brother, either of them could get into any trouble.

   "All right," she said finally.  "But don't be gone too long.  Your
brother needs his rest for that long drive back."

   ******************************

   Nathan drove around town, and went past Flossie's to park the car by the
bridge over Foster's creek.  That way it would look like someone was doing
some late fishing, instead of the car being parked by Flossie's house. 
Curtis Lee was reading a book by lamplight when they went in the door.

   Bernadette went to him, pulled him up, pulled him into Flossie's
bedroom, and closed the door.

   "They'll be busy for a while," said Hilda Mae, unbuttoning her shirt.

   Nathan looked at her, sixteen now, and more well developed by far than
the last time he'd seen her naked.  Her breasts were more full, and her
nipples better formed.  They were stiff and stuck out pinkly against the
creamy white of her breasts.

   "I'm married now," said Nathan.

   "She'll understand," said Hilda Mae, ignoring the obvious opposite. 
"Besides, I only get to see Moses about once a month."

   "You're taking your birth control pills?" he asked.

   "You bet I am," said his sister.

   "What if they come out here?" he asked as she dropped the last of her
clothing and stood before him in all her naked glory.

   "I don't care," she said, her eyes smoky.

   ******************************

   Curtis Lee groaned as he slid deep into Bernadette's clasping pussy.  He
had missed this as much or more than she did.  He didn't last long, sending
long ropes of spermy semen into her womb.  She didn't care.  She knew she
could get him hard again in a short while.

   In the next room, Hilda Mae swallowed Nathan's spunk as it spurted right
on that special spot deep in her throat.  His finger was hooked inside her
and the double stimulation brought her off nicely.  She, too, planned on
getting him hard again, as soon as they'd have time to snuggle and kiss for
a while.

   ******************************

   An hour later, both girls were dripping sperm into their panties as they
walked with their brother back to the car.  He drove them around just long
enough to get the car's engine good and warmed up.  Being a cop had taught
him to expect the unexpected, and it was possible that their father would
walk out and feel the hood of the car when they got back home.  Harvey had
to know that Flossie had left town the same day as Nathan, and he'd never
said anything about it, but still, it was better to play the role than take
chances.

   The house was dark when they got home, though, their parents already in
bed.  The girls, worn out from their activities, went straight to bed after
giving their brother a long good night kiss and thanking him.

   Nathan was already gone in the morning when they got up.  Where the car
had been parked was just empty space.  He had picked up Curtis Lee and
fifty more Double Eagles, and they were already fifty miles from town when
Bernadette and her sister went off to school.  The car was in East St. 
Louis when Bernadette came home from school.  It was just about as Curtis
Lee, at the wheel, pulled up to the farmhouse, and Flossie came out the
door to greet them, that Hilda Mae finished the hundred strokes she had
given Bernadette's hair.  Nathan was kissing his wife, when Bernadette
picked up the packet of birth control pills her mother had given her, to
take Friday night's pill.

   She stared dumbly at the Thursday pill, which was still there.  She had,
in the excitement of the previous evening, forgotten to take the pill.  She
looked at Hildy's packet.  The Thursday pill was gone, the Friday pill
still there.  Hildy came over and asked what she was doing.  She pointed at
the un-swallowed contraceptive in her packet.

   "Uh oh," said Hilda Mae.

   "It'll be OK," said Bernadette.  "I took all the other ones."

   She lay down in bed, and the egg the missed pill had allowed to drop,
and which Curtis Lee's sperm had fertilized, drifted against the wall of
her uterus, where it attached.  By morning, Bernadette Wilson's digestive
system was supplying nutrients to two living organisms.  By the time she
accepted her diploma, in late May, she had already watched Hilda Mae have a
period ...  all by herself.

   Chapter 38

   Marian watched her daughters becoming more and more sullen.  Now that
school was out, she could supervise them much more effectively than before,
and she supervised with a vengeance.  In a little longer than a month,
Moses would board a bus and one of the problems would disappear North,
hopefully forever.  That still left Bernadette, who had graduated, but was
not yet eighteen.  She wanted to go North too, and Marian knew exactly why.
She kept saying "No." When Bernadette turned eighteen, in July, she would
keep saying "No", hoping that something would turn up that would keep her
daughter away from Curtis Lee.  She felt like she was in a no-win
situation. She knew Bernadette talked about Curtis Lee to her sister, and
vice versa.  If Bernadette left, say for Atlanta, where Marian still had
friends, and might be able to arrange employment, distasteful as that was,
maybe Hilda Mae might be a little more manageable.  On the other hand,
Bernadette would be footloose and fancy free in the big city, which worried
Marian to no end.  And, Hilda Mae would then be alone, pining for something
she could never have, with no sister there to commiserate with her.  There
was just no answer to the dilemma.

   It was, ironically, the 4th of July, when Bernadette came to her mother
one morning and asked her to sit down at the table.

   "I have to go to Kansas city," she said, her voice sounding strange.

   "We've talked about this over and over," said Marian.  "I can't let you
do that.  You don't know what you're doing."

   "Mamma," said the girl, her voice strained.  "I HAVE to go." She looked
down at the table, unable to keep her mother's stare.  "Something happened
...  something I didn't plan on.  I HAVE to go, Mamma."

   Something in her voice set of alarms in Marian's head.

   "WHAT happened," she asked, her stomach doing flip-flops.

   "Curtis Lee came with Nathan last time," said Bernadette nervously.

   "No he didn't," said Marian.  "He stayed here, with us.  He came alone."

   "He didn't come alone," said Bernadette miserably.  "We couldn't tell
you.  You'd have forbidden me to see him.  I HAD to see him, Mamma."

   "What did you do?!" asked her distressed mother.

   "I HAVE to go to Kansas city, Mamma.  You need to understand that.  I
have to go soon, before ..."

   "Before you begin to show," said Marian dully.  "But that's why I put
you on those damned pills," she said helplessly.

   "I forgot to take one," said Bernadette.  "Just one single time I
forgot."

   Marian lay her head down on her arms.  She didn't say anything for so
long that Bernadette was starting to get worried.  Then she raised her
head.

   "I'll give you money for a bus ticket," she said.  "I can't do anything
more than that.  I can't send you there, and I can't give you permission to
go.  Your father would never forgive me if I did.  You'll have to repay me
too.  HE should pay for this.  HE's the one who did this to you."

   "It wasn't like that, Mamma," said Bernadette, straightening up.  "He
fought me the whole time, from the very beginning.  He told me I was crazy,
and that I'd get us both in trouble.  He ran away from me, even.  That was
why he went to the academy with Nathan in the first place, to leave me here
so I'd forget him."

   "But he came back," said Marian sternly.  "Didn't he?"

   "I threatened him, Mamma," said the girl.  "I wrote him secret letters
and said I'd run away if he didn't come back with Nathan.  There are things
you don't know about ...  things I can't tell you about ...  not now. 
We're tied together, Mamma ...  all of us kids ...  Moses and Johnnie Sue
and Jesse ...  ALL of us have made plans, and I can't tell you about it,
but I want you to know everything's going to be OK.  I promise!"

   "You PLANNED this?" Marian gasped.

   "Not getting pregnant," Bernadette blushed.  "Not like this, anyway.  I
planned on being married first."

   "To HIM?"

   "Yes, even before he left.  I told him I was going to marry him.  He
said I was crazy.  But then this other thing happened and it changed
everything."

   "What other thing?" asked Marian.

   "That's the part I can't tell you about.  Please, Mamma, all I can tell
you is that we'll be OK.  Everything is already arranged."

   "I will skin that boy alive!" said Marian.

   "I told you, it wasn't his fault!" said Bernadette.

   "I'm talking about your BROTHER!" spat Marian.  "He's been sneaking
around behind my back, after I let him go off and be with her and ...  and
...  and" She began spluttering with frustration.

   "Mamma, you remember when you first figured out I was in love with
Curtis Lee?" Bernadette asked suddenly.  "Remember when you came into the
bedroom and talked with us for hours?" She leaned forward.  "Do you
remember what you told us?"

   "Of course I do," moaned Marian.  "And you obviously didn't listen to
me! I told you it was damn foolishness to think about boys outside your
station in life!"

   "You told us about that other boy you liked, Mamma," said Bernadette. 
"And you told us how you forgot all about him when you met Daddy, and that
we'd forget all about the boys WE were interested in when we met the right
kind of boys."

   Marian looked confused.  She HAD told them about Phillip.  She had told
the story differently than she had when she told it to Flossie, but the
purpose had been different.

   "Mamma, we could see that you hadn't forgotten about him.  Your eyes got
all soft when you were remembering him, Mamma.  You said you'd forgotten
him, but you didn't really."

   Marian looked at her daughter helplessly.  "I love your father," she
said.

   "I know you do, but it was clear to boy Hildy and me that you also loved
this other man.  You said he was the wrong kind of boy, but you loved him
anyway, didn't you?" When her mother didn't answer she went on.  "And I
love Curtis Lee, even though I KNOW he's not the right man for me to love,
and that our life will be hard, and people will most likely look down on
us. But I LOVE him, Mamma, and it's HIS baby inside me, and I love that
too, even though I'm scared to death.  But I have to go be with him, Mamma.
I can't stand the thought of him not knowing, and of me being away from him
any more.  I love you, and I wish this hadn't happened this way, but it
DID, and I have to go, and I PROMISE you we're going to be OK, even though
I can't tell you why."

   Marian couldn't think clearly right now.  The heart of a mother heard
what was in her daughter's voice, but she couldn't just accept it ...  not
just like that.  She stood up, rigid.

   "I can't take you to the bus station," she said.  "You must wait until
you're eighteen, or your father will send people after you.  You'll have to
find your own way."

   Tears ran down Bernadette's face, and her voice was choked.

   "OK, Mamma," she said.

   "You can call your brother," said her mother.

   ***********************

   On the fifteenth of July, 1963, in a strange role reversal, Moses
Finshaw was taken to Flaerty to catch the bus north.  The role reversal
wasn't that Moses was riding, while his mother drove the battered old
pickup that was jointly owned by the Finshaws and Jesse Hawthorn's parents.
The role reversal was the fact that, in the back, covered by a tarp,
nestled among bags of tobacco, was a white girl, escaping to the North by
being smuggled out of the South.

   The truck ground to a halt just around the bend that led into town, and
Bernadette got out with her suitcase.  In her pocket she had a hundred
dollars that Moses had pressed into her hand just before he covered her up
with the tarp.  It was part of the five hundred dollars the Wilson boy had
dropped off a couple of months earlier.  The truck rumbled on into town,
and Bernadette walked the last three quarters of a mile.  She bought her
ticket and sat down on in the white waiting area, where she could see
Moses, who ignored her completely.  When they boarded the first of several
buses that would take them to Kansas City, they sat apart, as the law
required.  From St.  Louis on, however, they sat side by side.  Two men
approached them, asking if the boy was bothering her.  Bernadette simply
said she was fine.

   Bernadette had learned of the plans to get her to Flaerty in a note,
printed neatly in her mother's hand, that she found under her pillow.  Her
mother never said a word about the note, nor did Bernadette ask her
anything.

   Marian's decision to help her daughter was influenced in no small way by
a conversation she had with Mable Finshaw shortly after she had found out
her daughter was pregnant.  Knowing now that her younger daughter's
infatuation with Moses was most likely not the rebellious crush of a young
girl after all, Marian had gone to speak with Mable.  It was then she
learned about the money, and the laughable excuse Nathan was giving people
about buying and selling antiques.

   "I don't know where they got that money," said Mable softly as they sat
out in the shade behind the house, "but they've been giving it to the
families of all their school mates." She paused.  "I can't imagine where it
came from," she went on, "but I can tell you it's made a world of
difference in our lives.  That's a good boy you raised."

   Marian had left that conference a troubled woman.  By all accounts, her
son had distributed over two thousand dollars, and Curtis Lee had been with
him when it happened.  She couldn't fathom where they could come up with
that kind of cash, but Bernadette's heartfelt comment about "things I can't
tell you about" came to mind.  That didn't help much.  Marian had learned
that all the parents had gotten together to compare notes.  They had then
questioned and even threatened their children about the mystery, but not
even Jesse had caved.  At fourteen, he had a presence about him that far
exceeded his years.  All of the kids had presented a united front, saying
they didn't know anything about it.  That they clearly did, just made the
mystery deeper.  When, as a last resort, Luthor's parents said he could
have none of the money, he simply said "Spend it on the farm, then."

   After another week of worrying and fretting, Marian contacted Mable
again.  Then she wrote the note that Bernadette had found under her pillow.

   ***********************

   On the evening of the 15th of July, at supper, Harvey asked where
Bernadette was.

   Hilda Mae sat calmly.  "She said this afternoon that she was going to go
help Miz Hopkins with a new shipment of books.  She's probably over there
reading them.  I think she took some sandwiches with her."

   "Well, when she gets back, tell her she missed supper and to stay out of
the kitchen," said Harvey heavily.  "I'm going to bed.  Been feeling poorly
lately."

   The next morning, Hilda Mae came to the breakfast table, and sat down.
She had taken two bites before she stopped eating and looked around.  She
was the consummate actress.

   "Where's Bernadette?" she asked.

   Harvey looked around.

   Marian looked nervous.  "Isn't she still in the bedroom?"

   "No.  Her bed was made when I got up."

   "Didn't you talk to her when she got home?" asked Harvey, looking
alarmed now.

   "I fell asleep," said his daughter, no trace of guile on her face. 
"When I woke up I thought she'd already gotten up."

   Marian rushed to the bedroom, already trembling, while Harvey followed
her.  Bernadette wasn't there, of course.  Marian picked up the pillow, to
reveal a note.  When she read it she burst into tears.  They were honest
tears.  She was terrified for her daughter, but it was what was written
that caused her to cry out, just to keep from laughing.

   "I have gone off to find my fortune.  I love you both, but I'm all grown
up now.  I'll contact you when I've found some place to live.  Don't worry
about me.  Tell Hildy she can have the clothes I left behind."

   To Marian's eyes, she saw a little girl, in all her innocence, running
away from home on a lark of some kind.  But she knew that was no little
girl, and that, just as she did, Bernadette knew just what was at stake.

   Harvey snatched the note from her, and his eyes bulged when he read it.
He stomped out of the house, and didn't come back all day.  He had tracked
down the constable, who, when he found out the girl was eighteen, said
there was nothing he could do.  Harvey had then looked fruitlessly for his
daughter, and then found someplace to get roaring drunk.  Marian shooed
Hilda out of the house.  There was no telling what Harvey would be like
when he was like this.

   Hilda Mae got on her bike and rode over to Johnnie Sue's house, where
she was invited to supper.  Then, waiting until almost eight, she rode home
again.  She was both excited and sad.  She was excited that, in a year, she
would be able to do what her sister had just done - go and meet the man she
loved and have his babies.  She was sad because it was going to be a long,
long year before that could happen.

   ***********************

   On the 17th of July, Marian picked up the phone to hear her son's voice.


   "The package you sent me got here just fine," he said.  "Thank you."

   "You just wait until I get my hands on you, young man!" said Marian
urgently and softly, even though there was no one around to hear her. 
"Your father is breathing fire, and has even gone to the law!"

   "That won't do him any good," said Nathan.

   "I know that, but he's going to be insufferable until he finds out where
she is!"

   "She's fine.  She'll call you herself in a day or two.  She hasn't
thought up a story yet about where she is."

   "Nathan," said his mother, her voice changing.  "Where did you get all
that money?"

   "What money, Mamma?"

   "You know good and well what money I'm talking about," she said harshly.

   There was a long silence, and then his soft voice again.  "You know I
love you, Mamma, and Bernie does too."

   Marian waited, saying nothing.

   "It's not stolen, or anything like that," said Nathan.

   "Then why can't you tell me where you got it?" she asked.

   "We found something ...  something buried.  It was worth a lot of money,
but nobody owns it, or would even remember that it was ever there.  We
split the sale evenly."

   "All of you kids?" she asked, shocked.  "You were all together when you
found this ...  this ...  what was it?"

   "I can't tell you that, Mamma.  I've already broken my oath, just
telling you this much."

   "You kids were ...  playing together?  ALL of you?"

   "Yes, Mamma," said the voice of the son she felt like she didn't know.
"We've all been friends, ever since the summer after we got there."

   Marian thought of all the times her children had gone bike riding, and
fishing.  She had never known ...  never suspected.  They came home with
FISH, after all!

   "What part did your wife play in all this, Nathan?" she asked, heatedly.

   "Flossie?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.  "She didn't know a
thing.  She just taught us things, Mamma.  I have to go, now, Mamma.  Don't
worry.  I'll take good care of her." He hung up before she could yell at
him any more.

   That made Marian feel a little better.  At least until supper time, when
she looked at Hilda Mae and remembered what superb acting skills she had
displayed the day before.  She still acted worried, and Harvey was still
fuming.  After supper she invited her remaining daughter to go for a walk.

   They walked without talking for a block.

   "I heard from Nathan today," Marian said.  "He says Bernadette got there
fine."

   The change in Hilda Mae was immediate.  She grinned and hugged her
mother.

   "Oh I'm SO glad.  I was SO worried about her.  I'm SO happy for her!"

   "You knew she was going, didn't you?" asked her mother.

   "You did too," said Hilda Mae.

   "You're going to do the same thing ...  aren't you?" asked Marian. 
"When you graduate next year?"

   Hilda Mae hugged her mother again.  "If you're worried about me running
off before then, don't'.  I'm not like Bernie that way."

   "But you WILL go off to be with Moses ...  won't you?" pressed her
mother.

   "I don't know," said Hilda Mae.  "He hasn't asked me to do that yet. 
Like I said, I'm not like Bernadette that way."

   "What do you mean?" asked her mother.

   "I'm going to make Moses ask me to marry him, not the other way around,"
said Hilda Mae.

   "She did that?" asked Marian, astounded.  It was unheard of!  And not
just because of the mixture of races.

   "She chased that poor boy until he couldn't run any more," said Hilda
Mae.  "I was actually embarrassed about it a couple of times."

   "Why didn't you say something to me?" asked Marian.

   Hilda Mae looked at her like she had sprouted a third eye.

   "We BOTH knew what we were doing would make the world blow up," said
Hilda Mae.  "If I'd have told you, you would have sent us away or
something."

   "Tell me about the money," said Marian, casually.

   "What money?" asked Hilda Mae, instantly on guard.

   "Oh, it's no big secret any more.  Nathan told me you all found
something valuable on the phone, so I wouldn't worry about Bernadette."

   "He TOLD you that?" asked Hilda Mae, flustered.

   "Yes, so now you can tell me more."

   "What did he tell you we found?" asked Hilda Mae, suspicious at her
mother's wording.

   "Well, he just said it was something valuable, and that it belongs to
all of you, and that you'd all been friends since the summer after we got
here, and that that's where the money came from that he's been giving to
the families."

   "He told you all THAT?" asked Hilda Mae, standing there shocked.

   Marian didn't tell her that she had dragged it out of him, or how she
had done that.  "As I said, he didn't want me to worry about Bernadette
having enough to get by on."

   Hilda Mae stood there uncertainly.  She wanted to tell her mother ... 
to share the excitement.  But, though she was also mature beyond her years,
she still didn't trust ...  adults.

   "I can't say anything about it, Mamma.  I swore an oath.  So did Nathan.
He shouldn't have said anything about it."

   "And if I keep you from running away until you tell me?" suggested
Marian, hating herself for torturing her daughter.

   Hilda Mae's reaction shocked her.  The girl closed up completely, and
then turned away to start walking back toward the house.  "You'll have to
do what ever you think is best," she said.  "as will I."

   Marian caught up with her and took her elbow.  Hilda Mae jerked away
from her, convinced now that not even her mother could be trusted,
regardless of what she'd done for Nathan and Bernadette.

   "I'm sorry, honey.  I'm a mother.  I had to try to get it out of you.  I
won't ask again, I promise.  Don't go home yet.  There are other things we
need to talk about."

   Hilda Mae stopped, and stared at her mother suspiciously.  "You won't
ask me about the money again?"

   "Cross my heart and hope to die," said Marian, crossing her chest like
she had in her youth.

   They walked for two hours.  Hilda Mae WAS willing to talk about the
friendships that had formed, unknown to most of the parents.  She was
careful not to burn Johnnie Sue and her blood brothers, identifying them as
being too young to be interested in the opposite sex, but who were part of
the group anyway.  She also told Marian about the treehouse, but only said
that they got the lumber from an old tumble-down house in the woods.

   Hilda Mae was not nearly sophisticated enough to realize that her mother
could hear between the lines, so to speak.  Before they'd even gotten home,
Marian decided to have a visit with Mrs.  Thorp, about Johnnie Sue, and
about birth control pills.

   ***********************

   Bernadette ran into problems.  She hadn't thought to ask about her birth
certificate, didn't even know such things existed until it was demanded to
prove her age when she applied for a marriage license.  That required a
call home, during which she talked to her mother for two hours and things
got patched up some.  They decided to just tell Harvey that she was with
Nathan, since Harvey would never make the jump to believe that she had gone
there for Curtis Lee.

   As it turned out, that mollified Harvey somewhat.  Knowing that a Wilson
was there to look out for her made him feel better.  He'd heard the stories
Nathan told at supper that night, and he'd been impressed with the level
headedness of the boy, even if he didn't show it.

   Marian found and sent the birth certificate, and the same Justice of the
Peace who joined Nathan and Flossie, married Bernadette and Curtis Lee. 
Flossie, baby in arms, and Nathan were there too.

   While Bernadette's belly grew and grew, she wrote long letters to her
mother, claiming to have gotten hired as a secretary for a plumbing supply
company, while, in fact, she spent the vast majority of her time in the
garden.  Flossie taught her to can vegetables, and she worked hard to put
up food for the coming winter.  In September of that year, Flossie started
teaching at the newly finished Douglass school, and Bernadette took over
the daytime care of Nathan Jr., who was then almost six months old.  She
counted that as practice for the thing that was now beginning to move
around inside her and nudge Curtis Lee's hand as it lay on her stomach. 
Curtis Lee had to start taking her from behind, and he had to be careful
not to be too forceful, since he was long enough to impact that baby if he
wasn't.  Her breasts got heavier, and she found that she could have an
exquisite orgasm just from Curtis Lee nursing her.  She began to worry that
she wouldn't be able to nurse the baby without ending up in a puddle on the
floor.

   ***********************

   Moses did well in the Academy, though his grades weren't as strong as
those of Nathan and Curtis Lee.  It turned out, however, that he had a
flair for shooting.  No matter what they put in his hands, he was a crack
shot with it.  It was as if he understood firearms on their own level,
could hear them telling him where to aim them.  When he shot only three
points lower than the Department champion, he was chosen to be the first
non-white on the marksmanship team, which competed with other departments
around the country.  In the late 1960s, when the KCMO PD would copy Los
Angeles, and form a Special Weapons and Tactics Team, Moses Finshaw would
be assigned to teach marksmanship to the first S.W.A.T.  team in the city.

   Moses' interest in weapons naturally led him to examine one of the
Whitworth sniper rifles that still lay waiting to be researched and sold.
When Nathan told him the armorer had examined one, and found it to be in
apparently unfired condition, Moses couldn't resist trying one out.  On the
police firing range, he went up against an Enfield .303 in the hands of the
armorer.  The Enfield was good for about 800 yards on a man-sized
silhouette.  In the hands of Moses, The Whitworth, with the tubular four
power scope mounted, reached 1,300 yards, placing the almost fifty caliber
six-sided bullet square in the center of the chest.

   ***********************

   In February of 1964, a very surprised Doctor pried an obviously Negro
baby out of Bernadette with a pair of forceps.  At seven pounds eight
ounces, she was a small thing, but she was perfectly healthy, even though
he couldn't believe she came from a young white woman.  The doctor had
gotten to know Bernadette during her relatively normal labor, and he liked
her.  He was concerned that her husband might hurt her when he found out
she had been indiscriminate, and offered to call the police to be there
when he found out.

   She smiled.  "He IS a policeman, and he's already out in the waiting
room.  His partner is with him, though, so we may as well get this over
with."

   She giggled, in concert with the nurse, who knew which policeman was
Bernadette's husband, while the doctor did not.  The nurse described, blow
by blow how the doctor approached Nathan and broke the news, even more
unhappy now that he saw the "father" was accompanied by a black man. 
Nathan, had he known what was happening, might have played along and acted
angry, but instead he turned the doctor over to Curtis Lee, who grinned
from ear to ear as he was led in to see his daughter and wife.

   They had already decided that, if it was a girl, her name would be
Juliet, courtesy of William Shakespeare, and in honor of their forbidden
romance.

   Chapter 39

   During the next six months, Nathan decided that, rather than go back to
Catfish Hollow, he would just mail money.  This time he only sent two
hundred dollars to each family, and opened a pass book account at a local
bank for each of the three remaining members of the group.  Each account
got three hundred and seventy-one dollars deposited in it, the share from
the sale of the fifty coins they'd brought back.  In the letters he sent
with the money, he told each of his friends what their pass book account
was, and the name of the bank it was at.  He also told them he wasn't going
to convert any more coins unless someone got in a bind and had to have the
money quickly.  The money was safe where it was, and he didn't want to
appear in Catfish Hollow again until it was time to go get Hilda Mae.

   ***************************

   Bernadette loved being a mother, though it was hard at first.  She'd
never been around babies, except for her nephew, who acted completely
different from her own daughter.  Whenever Bernadette was around her,
little Juliet hated to go to sleep, and got cranky quite often because of
it.  She wanted to play, and jerk excitedly and sing to her mother.  But,
whenever Curtis Lee picked Juliet up, the girl melted into relaxation and
cooed at her father before closing her eyes and going to sleep.  It was
almost like magic.  He could put her down for a nap any time he chose.

   Bernadette's fears that she would respond to the baby nursing, like she
responded to Curtis Lee nursing, proved to be unfounded, though, when she
could mount him again, she invariably dribbled breast milk all over his
chest and face while she rode him to happy orgasms.  He got very good at
anticipating the onset of her orgasm, and sucked at her nipples to make it
even better.

   ***************************

   During the shooting contest between Moses and the department armorer,
the man told him about the records he had seen that referenced the sale of
seven Whitworth rifles to a suspected Southern sympathizer in 1865.  On a
Saturday shortly after, Moses and Bernadette, posing as two students from a
local university, sat down with ten boxes of records, marked "late war" in
the basement of the Harry S.  Truman Presidential Library.  The curator
explained that, when records were being transferred from the White House to
the Library, it had been assumed that these boxes pertained to late WW II.
It was only after they had been in Kansas City for ten years, that a
volunteer opened the boxes and found out they were Civil War records
instead.

   Then, the Federal bureaucracy being what it is, it had been so difficult
to arrange to send them back, that the Truman Library had simply kept them
and made them available for scholarly review.  It was in these records that
the armorer had found a report that seven rifles had been sold to Benjamin
Stubbs.  Now, Moses and Bernadette were trying to find anything else that
pertained to Benjamin Stubbs, or the rifles they had found.

   On the third day of sifting through documents that included provisions
lists, hostler's reports and an amazing amount of other minutia that made
the day-to-day operations in war time possible, the name Stubbs finally
came up again.  It was in a copy of a letter from the Governor of Missouri,
dated the 4th of March, 1865, thanking one Ralph Turner for his patriotic
assistance in bringing about the capture and successful prosecution of "the
traitor, Stubbs".  Other than that, there was nothing.

   The search moved to judicial files.  Based on the letter from the
Governor, the search was centered in Jefferson City.  It took weeks just to
get permission to get access to those, and it was finally accomplished only
with the assistance of the curator of the Truman Presidential Library, who
connected the request for access to the letter that had been found.  Then
three more weeks went by while State employees determined that the records
in question had been forwarded to the State Historical Society in 1934. 
That group was only too happy to comply with a request from the Truman
Library and dug through musty wooden crates in a sub-basement to locate
records from a hundred years past.

   The record of trial, such as it was, turned out to be ten pages of
handwritten notes, tied with string that fell apart when the knot was
pulled at.  The indictment accused Benjamin A.  Stubbs, a merchant residing
in Fairview, Missouri, of rendering aid and comfort to the enemies of the
United States Of America.  There was one witness against him, identified
only as Ralph E.  Turner, and one piece of evidence.  That evidence was a
much folded letter, dated February 16th, 1865, that read as follows:

   Dear Sir,

   In view of the dismal course of our cause of late, I have procured seven
weapons of the finest quality.  Their intended use is to bring about the
demise of the Northern leadership, and turn the course of this glorious
rebellion.  This is the same rifle that was used to execute General
Sedgwick, on the ninth of May, 1864 at the Spotsylvania Courthouse, where
he was taken from twelve hundred yards and struck in the head.

   I propose that sharpshooters of the highest caliber be selected, to
cross into the North under cover of false credentials, and situate
themselves such that, on a day to be chosen, they may be in a position to
execute the misguided President of the Northern States, as well as his top
five commanders, wherever they may be on that day.

   I have also amassed a sum of gold to bolster the spirit of the men
chosen for this mission.  They will be heavily sought after when their
mission is complete, and must be assured that both they, and their families
will be well taken care of.  Both the weapons and the gold are in the hands
of a trusted man, who has pledged to make them available on short notice
when needed.

   I await with great anticipation your response to this correspondence.

   I will not sign this letter, nor should you in your response, as there
is the possibility that, in crossing lines, they may be taken and read by
those unfriendly to us.

   The transcript of the trial, only two pages long, indicated that Turner
had identified Stubbs as the author of the letter.  No mention was made of
why Stubbs considered Turner a co-conspirator.  The only defense accorded
Stubbs was his statement that he knew of no rifles, or gold, and was the
victim of some nefarious plot constructed by intolerant business
competitors.

   The sentence of the judge took only one page, and was an order to take
the prisoner outside the courthouse and execute him summarily by firing
squad.

   ***************************

   With certified copies of the bill of sale, from "Bond, Freed & Co",
found in the Truman Library Archives, and the court documents, the seven
Whitworth rifles and five telescopic sights found by the children were put
up for auction.  A private collector purchased everything for $47,500.00
dollars.  The seller's name was kept confidential by the auction company.

   The news of this completely unexpected increase in wealth sent shock
waves through the group of friends.  It was hard to believe that the rifles
had been worth far more than the glittering gold each of them had held in
their hands.  Quite suddenly, though no one outside the group knew it,
Johnnie Sue, Luthor and Jesse, with their combined assets of $35,500, were
arguably, as a team, among the wealthiest of the population of Catfish
Hollow.

   And, in a city where a very nice home could be purchased for below
fifteen thousand dollars, a whole new range of options suddenly became
available to Nathan, Curtis Lee, and their wives.

   ***************************

   Having the resources to buy a home, and finding someone who will sell a
home to a mixed race couple, in 1965, in Kansas City, were two different
things.  There were the beginnings of exclusive suburbs being developed in
Johnson County, on the Kansas side of the city, but those developments were
closed to all but the wealthiest blacks.  "Suburban flight" was not yet a
named concept, in those days, but it was happening.  Oddly, the greatest
population of blacks was on the Missouri side, even though segregation was
more entrenched in that State.  It was still illegal for mixed marriages
there, though, so Missouri was not an option for either couple.  Had they
waited four more years, that law would be stuck down by the same court that
had so electrified the country in 1954, though it had a few different
members.

   As a result, the easier course of action was to purchase rural property,
and have a home built.  Plans were complicated by the need to accommodate
both existing families, and the expansions to them that were anticipated -
both Flossie and Bernadette wanted more children - as well as the
anticipated arrival of at least two more families.  Moses still intended to
marry Hilda Mae, and letters exchanged between Bernadette and Johnnie Sue
made it clear she still couldn't make up her mind which of her blood
brothers she would marry, and intended to bring them both North.

   That meant either a very large house, or a series of smaller ones.  And,
while they had the resources to build whatever they wanted, there were
still building codes and laws to deal with, as they applied to
"developments".  The solution, arrived at over a period of six months, was
to buy a farm, which would allow them much greater flexibility in terms of
erecting "buildings".  It was named "Whitworth Farms", in honor of the
rifle that financed it.

   ***************************

   The spring of 1964 was tumultuous in Catfish Hollow.  Hilda Mae and
Johnnie Sue were both scheduled to graduate from "High School".  Marian's
chat with Wilamina Thorpe, Johnnie Sue's mother, about her suspicions that
Johnnie Sue might be engaging in "exploratory sexual activity", was taken
to heart, primarily because Wilamina knew that she, herself, was extremely
hot-blooded, and had no trouble believing that her Tomboy daughter, who had
blossomed into a beautiful young woman, was hot blooded as well.  Johnnie
Sue's lifelong friendship with Luthor Cripps had been assumed to lead to
such things eventually, but that assumption was challenged by the fact that
the Hawthorn boy hung around with them all the time.  No one anticipated
that Johnnie Sue would be so hot-blooded as to take on two boys, one of
them colored.  Not a woman to take chances, though, Wilamina chose to put
her daughter on birth control pills.

   They worked.  In fact, they worked remarkably well, considering that
Johnnie Sue and her two men were not kept apart, like the Wilson girls had
been kept apart from the men who plundered their sex.  Johnnie Sue, in
fact, was probably getting more dick than any other three women in town
combined.  She was literally soaked in semen, as often as she could arrange
it, both inside, and out.  There were dark stains on the boards of the tree
house platforms that would take years to bleach out ...  stains created by
sperm dripping out from between Johnnie Sue's gleefully spread legs.

   Now, a month before graduation, as Johnnie Sue lay with her blood
brothers, still more spunk filling her pussy, she was mildly unhappy.  She
was unhappy because she wanted to go North, and get into college there. 
She had the resources to do that now, in a bank account in her name.  At
the same time, she was leaving her fountaining pricks, and would not have
access to Luthor's for a whole year.  Jesse wouldn't be able to come North
for TWO years, and she didn't know how she was going to be able to stand
it.

   Her solution was remarkably simple, and fit entirely within the complex
social bonds that the blood brothers had formed, and which were so
completely different than most other social bonds in the rest of the world.
She sat up, her now full and soft breasts jiggling.

   "We have a problem," she said.

   Both boys, sated for the moment, lay nakedly and looked at her.

   "I'm leaving in a month, and you two are staying here," she said.

   She got sad looks in return.

   "Luthor will be able to come North in a year, and we can have a baby
then," she said.  "But that won't be fair to Jesse, because he can't come
for a whole 'nother year."

   The boys looked at each other, interest in their eyes.  Up to now, all
the talk had been about how NOT to have babies.  The pill had been a huge
emotional release for all of them.

   "We can't really do much about that," pointed out Luthor, whose prick
was reviving at the thought of making a baby with Johnnie Sue, even if it
was a whole year away.

   "Yes, we can," said Johnnie Sue, stretching.  "Jesse can get me pregnant
before I leave."

   "That's goofy," said Luthor.  "You'll have the baby all alone."

   "No I won't.  Bernie and Hildy and Miss Flossie will be there," she
said.

   It was that easy.  Luthor didn't complain that he didn't get to make the
first baby.  Jesse accepted that his blood brother wanted to have HIS baby.
Johnnie Sue stopped taking her pills, and, over the next month, she let
Jesse spurt inside of her, while Luthor took care of giving her the sperm
baths she loves so much on the outside.

   At home, there was a little more argument about Johnnie Sue's plans.

   "I'm going to college," she announced one night.

   The argument for her to stay was more mechanical than emotional.  Both
her parents knew it was in her best interest to get out of Catfish Hollow.
Her promise to help them with expenses took the bite out of losing a
working hand.  All the parents now knew that something had been found, and
sold, that put their children in much better circumstances than they'd ever
hoped for.  And hope goes a long way toward a parent letting go of a child
when the time comes.

   Johnnie Sue boarded the bus in Flaerty, just as those had before her, in
July.  She would have gone sooner, but had to wait to make sure she missed
a period before she left.

   Seventy-two hours later, she was ensconced in a spare bedroom in the
farmhouse in Wyandotte County.

   ***************************

   The trip North for Hilda Mae was not so easily accomplished, though it
started off sounding the same.

   "I want to go to college," said Hilda Mae, one night at supper, a month
before she was due to graduate.

   Her mother looked at her steadily.  Her father snorted.

   "Damn waste of time," said Harvey.

   "What am I supposed to do?" asked Hilda Mae, her blond hair tossing. 
"Sit around here and grow old?" Her tone was surly.

   "You watch your mouth, girl," said Harvey heavily.  "Just because your
sister ran off doesn't mean I'll stand for that from you."

   "You didn't answer my question, Daddy," said Hilda Mae, trying to be
patient.  "What, exactly, am I supposed to do in Catfish Hollow?"

   "Work at the bank," he said shortly.

   "What about a family?" asked Hilda Mae, losing her patience.  "Did it
ever occur to you I might like to have my own family some day?"

   "You're too young," said Harvey, putting down his fork.  "And when the
time comes, I'll find a man for you.  Now this conversations is DONE!" he
thundered.  "I only have one child left, and I'll be DAMNED if she's going
to scurry off to who knows where, doing who knows what.  You're going to
stay RIGHT HERE, where I can keep an eye on you!"

   Only her mother's warning look, and a kick under the table, kept Hilda
Mae silent.  Hilda Mae was acutely aware that she would not be eighteen
until the following August.

   ***************************

   Whitworth Farms was a farm only in the sense that it was lately planted
in corn, which had been cut and found to be of poor quality, due to a three
year drought in Eastern Kansas.  That was, in fact, why the thirty-five
acres was sold.  The seven thousand dollar selling price would keep the
original owner going for another two years, if all went well.

   There was a well on the place, with a broken down windmill, that had, in
times past, brought up water for stock.  Electric poles went along the road
that flanked the property, and a lagoon would handle the needs of the
families that would be living there.  There was a poorly managed wind break
along two of the property lines, and the houses were planned to go back in
that corner, a quarter mile from the main road.  The first house built was
a sprawling ranch-type building, which was, technically, a duplex, since
each of the three bedroom structures shared a common wall between the
master bedrooms.  When finished, it would be in a short-legged "U" shape,
with a central courtyard and garden area between the legs.  There was no
garage, but a single story barn was built to contain any farm equipment
they might procure.  Cars could be parked in there in case of inclement
weather.  Otherwise, they'd just be left outside.  There was room left for
the construction of a mirror image to the first two houses which, when it
was finished, would give the final configuration of an "( )" with a twenty
foot break between them at the top and bottom.

   Johnnie Sue, her belly now swelling nicely, and Bernadette, spent a lot
of time at the site, supervising the construction.  The men doing the work
tried to ignore them, but soon found that these beautiful women, with those
tantalizing Southern accents, had steel inside them and would show teeth
too, if something wasn't done correctly.  The fact that the taller brunette
walked around openly with a black baby on her hip caused some comment
between the men.  That both women seemed to be awfully friendly with
several men who lived on the farm, just added to the scandalized chatter
between the construction workers.  It was only when those same men appeared
in Police uniforms, with guns strapped on, that it was decided that these
crazy people would be kept happy, so the crew could get done and go on to
other jobs.

   ***************************

   Marian pleaded with Hilda Mae to give her time to talk to Harvey. 
Marian's intent was to get him to agree that Hilda Mae could go to college.
If she could get him to agree to that, it would get Hilda Mae out of the
house, and she could then do what she wished.

   When, on graduation day, Harvey informed his wife that Hilda Mae would;,
the next day, be expected to start working in the Bank, where she could be
properly trained in an acceptable job for a woman, and announced that he
had invited Milton Harburger, the forty year old owner of the hardware
store to begin courting her, Marian knew things weren't going to work out.

   She waited for Hilda Mae outside the school house, where the graduation
ceremony had just taken place.  She had the car, and suggested that Hilda
Mae get in.

   "Were are we going?" asked her daughter.

   "Just for a ride," said Marian.  "We need to have another talk."

   She made sure she was driving along in excess of thirty miles an hour,
on a country road, before she told Hildy what her father had said.  That
was so Hilda Mae couldn't just jump out of the car and run.

   It took another five minutes to get her to calm down enough to listen to
her plan.

   "Your father has a conference in Atlanta in July," said Marian.  "He'll
be gone for three days.  All you have to do is behave yourself until then,
and you'll be free to leave."

   "You mean it, Mamma?" Hilda Mae's voice went from tragic to hopeful in
one breath.

   "There's something I haven't showed you yet," said Marian.  She stopped
the car and dug into her pocketbook.  She pulled out a picture that had
come in the mail recently.  It was of Bernadette, holding a very black
looking child in her arms, looking at the baby with obvious love on her
face.  "I got it last week.  Look at her.  She's just three weeks old, and
she's so cute I can't stand it."

   Hilda Mae stared at the picture.

   "That's Bernie's BABY?!" she squeaked.  "Ohhh look how black it is ...
did you say she?"

   "Marian nodded.  "Her name is Juliet."

   "Why didn't you TELL ME?" squealed Hilda Mae.

   "I'd have thought that would be obvious," said Marian dryly.  "You are
infatuated with a man who would have you holding a baby just like that
one."

   "I'm not infatuated, Mamma," said Hilda Mae, staring at the picture.  "I
love him."

   "Well, whatever ...  I didn't want to put more ideas into your mind.  At
least you're not pregnant already.  This baby was born too soon."

   Hilda Mae continued to stare at the photograph.  "So, what you're
telling me is that if I play good girl until July, and do what Daddy wants,
I can go up there with your blessing?"

   Marian bit her lip and realized there was a tear running down her cheek.
Hilda Mae's voice was so earnest, there was no doubt that this was what she
really wanted, whether she knew what she was getting into or not.

   "Yes," she said softly.

   "What about Daddy?" asked Hilda Mae, looking up finally.  "He'll have a
cow."

   "Yes he will," agreed her mother.  "I'll have to lie to him again."

   "How will I get there?"

   "I have some ideas on that too.  We have friends here that your father
doesn't know about." Marian sighed.  She'd have to see if Mable Finshaw was
willing to make another underground railroad run.  She'd show her the
pictures.  That might help.

   ***************************

   "Those are your Grandbabies?" asked Mable, real questioning in her
voice.

   Marian sighed.  "They are, and now my daughter wants to give us another
one."

   Mable looked sideways at this strange white woman, whose strange white
son kept sending them money that was making life so much more steady.

   "I might need to go up to Flaerty to get some material to make a dress
out of," said Mable.

   "I'd like to see it when it's done," said Marian.

   ***************************

   On the 8th of July, when Harvey got home from his conference, he found
himself with no children, and a wife who was roaring drunk.  The dishes
hadn't been done in days, and Marian had slept in her clothes.  There were
three empty whisky bottles lying around in various places in the kitchen,
and a fourth that had two splashes left in it.  He had no way of knowing
that three and a half of those bottles had been emptied down the drain the
day after Marian got the call from Hilda Mae saying she was safe in Kansas
City.  Marian was, in fact, drunk on her ass.  She blubbered that Hilda Mae
had been gone since the day he left.

   He finished the bottle in one, long gulp.  Then he took his wife to the
bedroom and punished her for letting his little girl get away.

   It was good she was drunk, because this time he blackened her eyes.  He
wanted to leave teeth marks on her breasts, like he knew he had had with
that nigger whore who he held responsible for putting notions in his
children's heads, and making them all run away from home.  But he knew
she'd seen those teeth marks, and while she'd stay home until her face
healed, he didn't want her staring at her own mauled breasts and
remembering.  He settled for listening to her scream as he forced his prick
into her anus for the first time in their lives, taking her like an animal,
and doing to her what he couldn't do to that nigger whore.

   ***************************

   Irony sometimes has a dismal sense of humor.

   While Harvey was punishing Marian, the daughters he was punishing her
for, were flat on their backs, with a stiff prick firmly in place in their
pussies.  They were in separate rooms, but the conversation was remarkably
similar.

   Hilda Mae was urging Moses on, teasing him.  It was the first time they
had been together in over a year, and she had a wager with Bernadette that
Moses could make her pregnant before Curtis Lee could do the same thing to
her sister.

   "Are you going to make my lily white belly stretch and swell with your
little black baby?" she moaned.  "I quit taking my pills a month ago."

   Moses, stronger than she knew, wasn't rough or hasty in the slightest.
He was happily stroking her with long, slow movements, relishing the feel
of her hot flesh around him after so long.

   "I'm going to give you twins," he panted.

   "You can't," she teased.  "We're not married.  You shouldn't even be
doing this."

   "I asked you to marry me the day you got here," he panted.  "As I
recall, you said you'd think about it.  Meanwhile, I'm about to give you
twins," he grunted.

   "Maybe I should make you pull it out, so I can swallow all that
dangerous sperm," she gasped.

   He stopped suddenly, and looked down at her, fire in his eyes.  "You
want me to stop?  Cause if you want me to stop I'll stop right now!" He
started to pull it out of her slowly.

   Her eyes widened as she finally saw that he had the strength to do just
that.  Her hands flashed to his hips and her fingernails dug in.

   "Yes, I'll marry you.  I've been waiting to marry you for two years, and
if you take it out right now I swear I'll scream bloody murder!"

   In a flash he was pounding her, shaking her, the larger, softer breasts
he hadn't seen until today jiggling n her chest.  She laughed with the
pleasure of knowing she had him.

   "Now you can give me twins," she cooed.

   She had to wait until next time for her own orgasm, but didn't mind a
bit.

   ***************************

   In the other room, Bernadette was lovingly sucking her husband's long,
narrow prick, and talking to it.

   "You're going to make me all fat again, aren't you?" She kissed the tip
and flicked her tongue into the slit.  "You're going to poke way up inside
me and squirt another beautiful little girl in my belly, aren't you?"

   "Not if you keep doing that," panted Curtis Lee.  He had put on weight,
eating better and getting more exercise than he'd had in the past.  One of
the side effects, at least according to Bernadette, was that it made his
semen taste sweeter.  She had slurped at his penis a number of times, using
that as her half-hearted birth control measure, until she was ready to get
pregnant again.  Now, after the talk she'd had with her sister, she was
ready.

   "Then I'll stop doing that," she said, giving the tip a last warm-lipped
kiss.

   She got into what had become one of her favorite positions, on her knees
and elbows, her ass high in the air, and her knees spread a foot and a half
apart.  She sagged her stomach, knowing that it would present her pussy
like a fat, juicy split peach between her buttocks.  She felt Curtis Lee's
hands on her hips, and sighed as he fed her his long, black stick.  She
liked it this way, because he didn't go quite as deeply into her.  Like her
mother, she liked a little pain now and then, and that was when she lay on
her back and spread her legs for him, or climbed up and sat on top of him.
But this way, when she felt him swell and begin to shoot inside her, all
she had to do was reach between her legs and flick her clit seven or eight
times, and she came at exactly the same time, which she loved being able to
do.

   Curtis Lee leaned onto her back, jutting his loins forward, and felt for
her breasts with his hands.  His hands squeezed in time with the spurts of
his hot semen into her womb, and he felt her shudder under him as she
moaned.

   Chapter 40

   No one called Marian for two months, to let things cool down.  By then,
Hilda Mae was both married and pregnant, and Bernadette was pregnant again.
Now the bet had to be settled by who gave birth first.  Nathan wrote a
letter each month, like he usually did, but didn't say anything about his
sisters in it.

   During those two months, the mirror image of the original house was
started.  One end would be for Hilda Mae and Moses to live in, and the
other end was for Johnnie Sue and her two blood brothers.  Bernadette began
research to see if the land they now owned could be used to grow some cash
crop, such as strawberries, or whether it should be planted in fruit trees
as a working orchard that might begin producing in four or five years. 
Loans had been used, to some extent, in the building of the farm, to
preserve the cash reserves in the bank, and to establish credit.

   **************************

   In October of that year, Flossie informed Nathan that, if she got
pregnant in the next month or two, the baby would be born during the
summer, when she was on break from teaching.  Nathan was always ready to
make love with the woman who had stolen his heart, and worked hard to fill
her with life.

   **************************

   The men all had to work on New Year's Eve, 1965, so the "family"
celebration was rescheduled for Valentine's day of that year.  It was still
cold, but the men put together a charcoal grill outside, and brought piles
of hamburgers, steaks and hot dogs inside, where the women had prepared all
the other fixings.  Nathan's camera used two rolls of film to document the
happy gathering.

   They had a real cookout in May, when the weather warmed up.  There was a
new member of the family at this gathering, in the form of Jeremiah Thorpe,
who was born in February.  Johnnie Sue simply told the doctor that she
didn't know who the father was, enduring his chiding look.  That frown got
deeper when the baby's head crowned, and it became obvious that it was a
mixed race baby.  Johnnie Sue ignored all the stares, and cuddled her
little boy, counting his toes and examining him like all new mothers did.
When she got him home, Luthor held him like he was his own.

   At the Spring party, more pictures were taken and, when they got back,
Bernadette decided it was time to send her mother more pictures.  Both she
and Hilda Mae knew that Marian often pulled out the two pictures she had,
and stared at them for long minutes.  Now, they could provide her with
more.

   ********************************

   On a sunny day in April, 1965, Banker Harvey Wilson entered the post
office in Catfish Hollow with a bundle of mail.  Normally, an employee
would have delivered it, but the man normally assigned that task was home
sick.  Harvey was in the same acid mood he'd been in for months.  He had
fallen back into his old habit of arranging things so that he could
foreclose on property, and then sell it.  Because he demanded collateral
far in excess of what would cover the loan, he could let it go for less,
ensuring a quick sale, and his books looked good.  People in town shot him
dark looks, but he didn't care.

   "Mr.  Wilson," called out the postal clerk as he was about to leave. 
"Got a package here for your wife, sent to General Delivery.  You want to
take it to her?"

   Harvey stalked over to the counter and took the flat package.  He
glanced at the return address, and his blood went cold.  It was from
Nathan, the son he was trying to figure out how to formally disown.  There
was no lawyer in Catfish Hollow, and he hadn't had time to contact one
elsewhere.

   He took the package out on the sidewalk, and tore it open, despite the
fact that it was addressed only to his wife.  Peering inside, he saw
photographs, and a letter.  He pulled the letter out first, and glanced at
it.  His eyes widened as his suspicions were confirmed.

   "We're all fine," the letter read.  "Bernie and Hildy are happy and
working on an orchard on the property we bought.  The extra house just got
finished, and Johnnie Sue and Luthor are moving into that one, along with
Hildy.  The pictures will show you the rest.  We miss you and wish you
could be here to see it all." It was signed, simply, "Nathan"

   Harvey upended the package, and photographs spilled into his hands.  He
heart was already thumping in his chest, and the first photograph made his
eyes bulge.  It was of his son, standing behind the nigger whore teacher,
his arms around her, and his hands resting on a belly that was rounder than
it should be.  In her arms was a mulatto baby.  All three were grinning.

   "That fucking bitch!" Harvey gasped.  "She stole my boy!"

   With shaking hands, he fumbled to another picture.  This one had
Bernadette in it, standing sideways.  The camera had caught a man Harvey
recognized as the Waggoner boy, handing a decidedly nigger baby to his
daughter.  Bernadette's belly was at least seven months swollen.

   Harvey felt pain in his left arm, and his lungs struggled for air as he
dropped that picture to reveal Hilda Mae, also standing sideways, her belly
even more grotesquely swollen a she leaned forward to kiss a nigger in a
Police uniform who looked shockingly like the Finshaw boy.  Behind them,
and to one side was the Thorpe girl, who Harvey had lusted over a number of
times before she went off to college.  She had a breast bared, and a
mulatto baby was fastened to the tip of that breast.  Her mouth was open as
if she were talking to someone who was hidden behind Hilda Mae in the
picture.

   Harvey's vision tightened, until his baby daughter, with her spun-gold
hair, was all he could see at the end of a long tunnel.  Her belly looked
ready to split open.  Somehow he knew the thing stretching her precious
belly so much was ...  black.

   That picture seemed to fall to the ground of its own volition, exposing
another one of Nathan and the nigger whore.  They were in the same embrace,
his hands on her pregnant belly, but this time that mulatto half-breed was
reaching his arms up, toward Nathan.  The last thing Harvey Wilson saw,
before his heart literally burst, was his son's pale smiling face, cheek to
cheek with the slim black one Harvey hated more than anything else in the
world.

   **************************

   People came to help, but it was too late.  Harvey was dead when he hit
the sidewalk.  The doctor was called, but his examination took less than a
minute.  He stood and shook his head as the crowed edged back from the dead
body.

   No one had anything to cover the body with, or they'd have just left it
there until the hearse could get there from Madison.  The constable
arrived, and got the doctor's report.  Then he picked up the photographs,
and glanced at them.

   "He was just standing there, looking at those pictures and talking to
nobody," said Jasper Reynolds, "when he just dropped like a bag of cement!"


   Others began to edge closer, to see what the man had been looking at
when he died, but the constable held them against his chest.  He picked up
the rest, and the letter, stuffing them all back into the large brown
envelope they had come in.  Things were bad enough.  Now was not the time
for folks to get upset.

   Once he had everything picked up, he drafted four men to carry the body
back to the bank, and told another to wait and direct the men from the
funeral home there when they arrived.  He stopped in his tiny office, to
examine the photographs and letter more closely.  He was beginning to
understand why the man had savaged that teacher woman, and it was clear
what had killed him.  He frowned, thinking, as he usually did, how this
might affect the town.  The town was foremost in his thinking.  He'd been
around long enough to know that there were some with dark skin who were
worth a whole sight more than some with lighter skin, but that didn't
matter.  What mattered was that things kept going along like they should.
It was enough that they mixed in that new school.  He didn't need anybody
to know they mixed like this when they LEFT that school.  He had known that
the Wilson children had left town, and he knew how the last one, the blonde
in the pictures, had gone, hiding in the back of a pickup.  He hadn't done
anything.  They were all of age, and kids ran away from home all the time.

   No, these pictures must not be seen by those in town.

   **************************

   Marian opened the door to find the constable, hat in hand, looking
downcast and uncomfortable.

   "Yes?" she said, worried already.  What had Harvey done now?

   The constable's eyes widened as he took in the faded bruises around her
eyes.  He couldn't keep his eyes from straying to her arms, where there
were more bruises, old now, and fading as well.  His eyes went naturally to
her breasts, which were still fine under the dress.  He wondered if there
were teeth marks there, too, like the ones he had seen the man leave
before. His eyes rose to find her staring at him.  She knew where he had
been looking.

   Never a man to mince words, he said "I'm sorry for looking, Ma'am, but I
saw the bruises."

   Marian held herself upright, by force of habit.  "They're healing
nicely, thank you."

   "I'm afraid I've got some unhappy news," he said.  He held out the
envelope.

   Marian looked at it, and felt dread immediately.  She winced as she drew
a deep breath.  Her ribs still hurt.  "This has been opened," she said.

   "Your husband opened it.  Apparently, whatever is inside there made him
so unhappy that he seems to have had a heart attack.  There wasn't much
anyone could do, I'm afraid."

   Marian, the consummate Southern matriarch, stiffened her knees as they
began to give way.  "Will you come in please?" she said stiffly.

   "Just for a moment, Ma'am," said the constable.  He had more information
to impart.  Then he'd leave the woman to her misery ...  if there was going
to be any misery.

   While she upended the package onto the table, spilling the pictures out,
he told her where the body was, and that the funeral home had already been
called.  Unless she had other plans, they would take care of everything. 
She would need to contact them within the next few days to make any final
decisions.  He wrote the phone number on a pad he took from his pocket,
with a stub of pencil he took from another pocket.

   "Who else saw these pictures?" she asked, her voice steady.

   "No one, Ma'am.  I scooped them all up and put them back in the
envelope. Didn't figure it was anybody else's business."

   "Thank you," she said, her voice dull.  "I have no manners," she said,
lifting her head.  "May I offer you a cool drink?"

   "Thank you, no, Ma'am," he said, standing.  "I hate to say this, Ma'am,
but it would probably be a pretty good idea if your children didn't come
back for the funeral.  At least not if you're going to plant him here, and
they'd bring all their ...  family."

   "I don't think you have to worry about that," said Marian.  "I don't
expect them to ever set foot in this town again."

   "I s'pose that's for the best," said the man, uncomfortable now.  "If
you need anything, I want you to ask.  I'll help if I can."

   "Thank you, sir," said the woman.  "Now, I'm sure you have other
business that needs doing.  I won't keep you any longer."

   **************************

   Marian stood, naked, in front of the full length mirror on the back of
the bedroom door.  Three days had passed, during which she had mourned. 
She had driven over to the funeral home in Madison and gone through the
process of identifying his body, which had already been embalmed.  She had
stood there, looking at him lying there so peacefully.  It didn't look like
her husband, to her.  There was a cemetery in Madison, and there was room
in it.  It was cheaper not to have him taken back to Catfish Hollow, so she
bought a plot there and returned the next day to see the coffin lowered
into the ground.

   Now she stared at herself, noting the bluish bruises left on her upper
torso.  She had bled from his rectal assault for two days, lying in bed,
hoping she wouldn't have to call the doctor.  That had slowly resolved
itself.  Harvey had been solicitous toward her, but she hadn't believed he
really cared.  The only thing he had left alone had been her breasts, which
sagged slightly in the mirror.  She was thirty-nine years old, and a widow.
She looked critically at her form.  There was a bit too much flesh on her
thighs, and her waist was thicker than she wished.  The bruises would fade
and disappear.  She tried to think of someone other than Harvey, looking at
her like this, but couldn't.  She couldn't even imagine Phillip, who was
happily married somewhere, no doubt, being here to see her.

   She shrugged on a robe just as she heard a knock at the front door.  She
ignored her indelicate appearance, and belted the robe around her, going to
look through the glass in the front door, between the curtains.  She
recognized a woman from the bank, and opened the door.

   "I hate to bother you," said the woman, looking horribly uncomfortable.
"The new bank manager opened Mr.  Wil ...  he opened the safe deposit box,
and thought you might need these papers." She thrust an accordion file
towards Marian, who took it.  The woman fled.

   His will was in the packet, and two insurance policies, one for the
house, and one for the car.  There were also their marriage documents, and
birth certificates, and there were two life insurance policies.  She sat
down and began sorting it all out.

   **************************

   On the fifteenth of May, 1965, Nathan and Johnnie Sue were standing in
the bus station when Luthor stepped off the bus, looking around curiously.
He had grown two inches, and Nathan almost didn't recognize him.  Johnnie
Sue did, though, and she ran all the way across the station to throw
herself in his arms.

   She had almost finished kissing him when Nathan strolled up, grinning.

   Luthor grinned when she was done, but then his face went sober as he
looked at Nathan.

   "Sorry about your Daddy," he said.

   "What?" asked Nathan.  "What did he do now?"

   Luthor looked stricken.  "You didn't know?  Nobody told you?"

   "Told me what, Luthor?" asked Nathan, frowning.

   "Shit, shit, shit," chanted Luthor, looking everywhere except at Nathan.

   "What is it Luthor?" asked Johnnie Sue, her ebullience gone.

   "He ...  he had a heart attack ...  right in front of the post office,"
said Luthor softly.  "Nobody told you?" He sounded incredulous.

   "Heart attack," said Nathan dully.  "Where is he?  Is he in a hospital
somewhere?"

   "He's ...  he's ...  ooooo shit, shit shit!" Luthor took a breath and
straightened his shoulders.  "He's dead, Nathan."

   **************************

   Nathan ignored the happy throng waiting for Luthor, and pushed past
them, heading for the phone.  Flossie recognized the anguish on his face
and followed him.  He was already dialing when she got to him.

   "Mamma?" his voice broke.  "Mamma, why didn't you CALL?!"

   **************************

   Johnnie Sue, in her typical take-charge fashion, took Bernadette and
Hilda Mae aside, pulling them toward the house, where she had seen Nathan
go.  Luthor could tell the men what was going on.  She stopped them at the
door of the room where Nathan's voice could be heard on the phone, and
broke the news to them.  Their reaction was not what she expected.  Their
eyes got red and wet, but they didn't break down, like she knew she would
have if this news had been delivered to her.

   Instead, Bernadette walked to Nathan and put her arms around him.  Hilda
Mae was right behind her.  He tried to push them away, but they held on. 
Bernadette gripped the phone and took it away from him, surprised she could
get it so easily.

   "Mamma?" she said into the phone.  "Are you all right?"

   "Bernie?" came a wet sounding voice.  "Is that you baby?"

   "Mamma we'll come right down there," said Bernadette firmly.

   "NO!" shouted her mother, so loudly that she had to take the phone away
from her ear.  "You'll do no such thing.  He's already in the ground.  You
stay right where you are!"

   "But Mamma, what about YOU?" moaned Bernadette.

   "I'm all right," said Marian urgently into the phone.  "You can't come
back here."

   "Why not, Mamma?" whined Bernadette.  "I want to SEE you!"

   "People know, dear.  They know about you and Curtis Lee.  You'd be
treated very badly if you came her.  You have to stay there.  ALL of you
have to stay there!"

   "But Mamma ..."

   "No buts, young lady," came her mother's forceful voice.  "Now put
Nathan back on the line!"

   There was a tussle for the phone as she tried to hand it back to Nathan.
Hilda Mae wanted it too.  She kicked Bernadette in the leg when she
wouldn't let go, and wrestled the phone to her ear by pure force.

   "MAMMA!" she yelled into the phone, then softened her voice when no one
tried to take the phone away from her.  Bernadette was rubbing her leg, and
Nathan was just standing there.  "I'm sorry, Mamma, I didn't mean to kill
him," she sobbed.

   "You didn't kill anybody!" came Marian's strong voice.  "He had a heart
attack, that's all."

   "I want to come see you," cried Hilda Mae.

   "LISTEN TO ME!" shouted her mother.  "NO ONE IS COMING HERE.  THAT IS
VERY IMPORTANT FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND.  TELL ME YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!"

   "Don't yell at me, Mamma," cried Hilda Mae.  "I don't understand."

   "GIVE THE FUCKING PHONE TO NATHAN!" screamed Marian.

   Hilda Mae almost dropped the phone, her crying cut off like she couldn't
breathe.  She had never, except through a bedroom door, heard her mother
utter a single curse word.  She held the phone out to Nathan.

   "Nathan, you listen to me.  None of you can come down here.  That is
extremely important!  If need be I'll come up there.  Now, I'm going to
hang up, and I'll call you in an hour.  You get control of things up there,
Nathan, I'm depending on you.  Tell me you heard what I just said!"

   "I heard you, Mamma," said Nathan, some color coming to his cheeks. 
"OK, in an hour."

   He hung the phone up and turned to his sisters, who were looking at the
phone with outraged eyes.

   "Sit down," he said.

   Flossie stood behind Nathan, her hands lightly on his shoulders.  A baby
started crying somewhere, and she left to take care of that, whoever's baby
it was.  Johnnie Sue joined her.  They made sure that nobody bothered the
siblings until the phone rang again.

   **************************

   In Catfish Hollow, Marian went to the wastebasket and reached in to pull
out the photographs she had thrown away.  She had looked at them as if she
were Harvey, and knew in her heart that they were the reason for his heart
attack.  She had thrown them away for the same reason, unable to look at
them without thinking of what his reaction would have been.

   Hilda Mae's confession, though, had sobered her.  Harvey had tried to
ruin the lives of his children.  He hadn't thought of it that way, of
course, but the end result was the same.  She couldn't let his death finish
the job.  She had been sure he was going to kill her in his rage when he
found Hilda Mae gone.  She had known he would be irate, but hadn't thought
he'd maim her because of it.  After the attack, though, she knew the depths
to which he could sink.  She remembered the grin of triumph on his face as
he had beaten her.  He had called her all the things that he would have
called his daughters, had they been there.  And she knew, as she was being
beaten, that had they been there, he would be doing everything to THEM,
that he was doing to her ...  everything.

   But they hadn't been there.  They were where they were happy.  That,
too, was obvious in the photographs.  That's why she recovered them from
the trash.  Now she could look at them and only see her children, smiling,
happy, with beautiful children of their own, no matter what their color. 
She peered intently at Hilda Mae's face, smiling, relaxed, lips pursed for
a gentle kiss.  She looked gloriously pregnant, while most women at that
stage looked haggard and drawn.

   She glanced at the insurance policies.  She was a wealthy woman in her
own right, now.  And she had nothing to stay in Catfish hollow for.  Now
she COULD go and see her grandbabies.  And that might keep them from coming
back.  Who knew who else besides the constable had seen those pictures. 
Hadn't she heard there was a crowd around him when he died?

   The bank could have the house.  They'd only paid on it for three years,
and the equity in it was little or nothing.  She could walk away from it
all if she wanted to.  She looked around at her things.  How much of it
really mattered now that Harvey was gone?  Furniture could be replaced. 
Clothing could be replaced.  Dishes could be left right where they were. 
Whoever moved into the house could have it all.

   No ...  wait ...  she'd have to pack up everything that belonged to her
children.  She couldn't leave that behind.  They must have no reason to
come here again.  She looked at her watch.  It was time to call.  She
picked up the phone and dialed.  It was answered in the middle of the first
ring.

   "I'm coming up there for a visit," she said into the phone.  "I'll call
you when I have all the plans made."

   She heard Nathan relay the information.  She endured five more minutes
of promising her daughters that she was REALLY coming there, and trading
professions of love for each other.  Then she hung up and began to make a
list of everything that would have to be done before she could leave.

   **************************

   There were more calls, of course.  Hilda Mae and Bernadette ran up an
atrocious long distance bill until their mother finally told them she
couldn't get anything done if they kept calling every other day.  Along the
way, though, Marian got the directions on how to find the farm.  She rushed
things a little.  Both of her daughters' due dates were the third week in
June, and If Marian wanted anything in life, she wanted to be there when
those babies were born.

   The insurance company drug its heels, and sent endless paperwork to be
filled out.  She returned it all by registered mail, and that took an extra
week because the Catfish Hollow post office had never sent anything that
way, and didn't have the proper stamps.  Then she had to get the station
wagon looked over.  The blacksmith took his time doing that, but finally
pronounced the car fit for a trip of a thousand miles.  While she might be
wealthy when the insurance company finally released the funds, her bank
account was getting alarmingly low.  The new bank president assured her her
debts would be covered until the insurance money came through.  He actually
apologized for being in place within four days of Harvey's death.

   She wasn't planning on coming back.  Part of her never wanted to see
this dusty town again in her whole life.  Another part of her, though,
realized that great changes had occurred in her family here, and the
atmosphere of Catfish Hollow would cling to them forever.

   Finally she was packed and ready.  She had only one more thing to do. 
She didn't know how it would turn out, but the more she thought about it,
the more important she thought it was.  She picked up her pocketbook,
checked to make sure what she was looking for was inside, and walked out of
the house.  When she drove away, she didn't look in the rear view mirror.

   **************************

   Around three in the afternoon, on the 14th of June, 1965, Bernadette
heard the crunch of tires on gravel.  She was sitting on the ground in the
garden, pulling weeds.  She was so gravid that only sitting allowed her to
do any work at all.  She shaded her eyes, looking through the break in
between the houses that led to the driveway ...  and blinked.  She yelled
for her sister, who was sitting on a bench in the shade, napping.  Her
ankles had been swelling lately and she was having difficulty getting
around.

   "What?" called Hilda Mae.  She didn't feel like getting up.  She felt
like she was carrying a twenty-five pound bowling ball around in her belly,
and just knew she waddled like a duck when she walked.  She loved Moses,
and she knew she'd love this baby, but she sure wished it would hurry up
and get tired of being carried around.

   "That looks like our car coming up the drive."

   "Nathan?" asked Hilda Mae.

   "NO!," said Bernadette, levering herself up to a kneeling position. 
From there she got a foot under her and struggled up.  "OUR car ...  Mamma
and Daddy's car!"

   "The station wagon?" asked Hilda Mae, no longer drowsy.  She leaned
forward, in an attempt to stand up.

   "I think it IS!" squealed Bernadette.  "I THINK IT'S MAMMA!" she
screamed.

   Flossie stepped out of her house.  She was big too, but she carried the
child higher, and seemed less vexed by it.

   "What's going on?" she called.

   "I THINK MAMMA'S HERE!" shouted Bernadette, trying to run toward the
driveway, but managing only a quick waddle.

   Johnnie Sue came outside too, to see what the ruckus was about.  She was
the only female present who wasn't pregnant, and the only one who could run
to see who was coming up the drive.  She got there just as Marian rolled to
a stop in a cloud of dust.

   She got out, and stretched, putting her hands in her back and leaning
back.

   "Lord have MERCY," she moaned.  "That was a long drive!"

   "Mrs.  Wilson!" squeaked Johnnie Sue.  "You're here!"

   "I am indeed, Johnnie Sue, and I bring the greetings of your parents."

   There were screams and the singularly odd sight of two pregnant women,
apparently racing each other, trying to be the first one to get to Marian.

   "Well would you look at you two!" laughed their mother.  "I remember
walking like that.  I can't tell you how glad it isn't me who looks like
she swallowed a watermelon whole!"

   There were shrieks and shouts.  Luthor wasn't on duty today, and he came
out of the house in his undershirt.  He'd worked the graveyard shift, and
had been sleeping.  His hair was tousled, and he had a little dark-skinned
person in his arms that was wiggling and fussing.  Bernadette and Hilda Mae
were practically jumping up and down, asking why she hadn't told them she
was coming, and when did she leave, and how long did it take her and so on.

   "I wanted to surprise you," said Marian.  She turned to Johnnie Sue.  "I
brought something with me for you ...  sort of a present from your parents,
I think.  It's under a blanket in the back seat."

   She positioned herself to watch, as Johnnie Sue bounded to the car and
pulled the back door open.  She reached inside and pulled a blanket toward
her.  There was a sudden shout of "BOO!" and Johnnie Sue screamed.  Then
she screamed again and started dancing around in circles, screaming over
and over again.  Luthor stepped forward, a look of concern on his face.

   Then Jesse climbed out of the car, laughing.

   "Jesse?" Luthor breathed.  "Is that really Jesse?"

   Marian turned to him and said "It is, in fact, Jesse Hawthorn."

   Luthor took off, holding the baby like a football, except that he
supported the child's head while he ran.  Marian looked up to see Johnnie
Sue plastered against Jesse, kissing him long and hard.  She almost smiled.
She had looked closely at the little black baby sucking at Johnnie Sue's
breast.  Based on what she'd learned from Hilda Mae, and some parents she'd
talked to, it almost had to be Jesse's, even though he was two years
younger than she was.

   She'd showed the picture to Adelaide, Jesse's mother first.  The woman
had stared at it and her brown skin had gotten a grayish tinge to it.  Then
Jesse had been called in.  His mother handed him the picture and waited. 
His eyes got round, and he grinned.  Then, realizing his mother was staring
at him, he wiped the grin off his face.

   "Is that your baby Johnnie Sue is suckling?" she asked her son.

   He'd tried to deny it at first.  Adelaide had then nodded wisely and
suggested that, once Johnnie Sue got to Kansas City that she had met some
nigger boy and it must be HIS baby.  Jesse almost exploded.

   There had been a lot of questions then, and Jesse had sweated his way
through all of them, finally admitting that Johnnie Sue let him get her
pregnant because she'd be gone so long before he could go up there and be a
policeman.  He didn't think it was a good idea to explain about Luthor, so
he kept that part in.

   "That's my grandson?" asked his mother, staring at the picture.

   "Yess'm" said Jesse.  "Ain't he beautiful?" he sighed, looking over his
mother's shoulder.

   "Isn't he beautiful," Marian corrected him.  "And I think you mean
handsome." She looked at him staring at the picture.  "You've never seen
him before, have you?" asked Marian.

   "She told me about him in a letter, but she wrote it like it was some
other woman she was talking about, in case somebody else read the letter.
She couldn't send any pictures, though."

   "What's Wilamina going to do when I show her this picture?" asked
Adelaide.

   "She's prob'ly gonna have her husband lynch me," said Jesse, like he was
talking about whether a cow was black or brown.

   "As well she should," said his mother.

   "But I'm gonna marry her, Mamma," he said, his voice pleading.  "You can
do that up North, there, and when I'm old enough I'm going up there to be a
policeman and marry Johnnie Sue!"

   "Where I grew up the marrying part came before the having babies part,"
sighed Adelaide.

   Marian had part of what she came for.  Now she went for the rest.

   "I'm on my way up there today.  I'm leaving from here, in fact.  I just
thought you might want to see your grandson."

   "You're going to see them?" asked Jesse, his voice agonized.  He was
sixteen, and was beginning to look like a man, but his voice still sounded
young.

   "I am," said Marian.  "I'd offer to take you for a visit, except that I
don't think I'm coming back." When nobody picked up on the obvious, she
almost groaned.  "I am a little worried about one thing, though.  When my
husband died, he had these pictures with him, and they spilled on the
ground.  I don't know if anyone else saw them.  I'd hate for Jesse to get
into trouble.  I mean I'm scandalized, of course," she said, sounding not
scandalized at all.  "But if the wrong people saw them, I guess there could
be real trouble for Jesse here."

   She hated doing this to the poor woman, but it was necessary.  At least
she hoped so.  She was shocked when Adelaide looked up and she was crying.

   "There's people in this town that would kill him if they knew." Her
shoulders shook.

   "I was thinking," said Marian, trying to ignore the crying woman in
front of her.  "You're a good student, Jesse.  You studied hard last year -
I know, I was there to see it - and it occurred to me that, if you went
with me, you could finish school up there ..." She looked to see the hope
register on both faces.  "I know you would do all right in just about any
school."

   "But what'll we do?" asked his mother.  "We need him here!"

   "I have money, Mamma," said Jesse.  "More than Nathan's been sending.  I
can send you some money to help out."

   "Can you send enough to hire a man to take your place?" asked Adelaide,
looking hopeless.

   "I can send enough money to hire two men," he said calmly.

   It only took ten minutes, and then Jesse was hurrying to his room to
pick out the things there was room for in the station wagon.  There wasn't
a lot of room, but he could take some clothing, and maybe a few cherished
personal items.  Adelaide said she'd explain everything to her husband, and
Marian gave her the picture.

   She had taught Jesse the rules of the road on the trip North.  He
already knew the mechanics of driving, but didn't have a license.  She let
him practice between towns.  After the first five hundred miles she felt
secure enough to snatch a nap while he drove on through the night.

   As she saw the obvious joy that Johnnie Sue greeted the young man with,
Marian knew she had done a good thing, even if she wasn't sure it was the
right thing.

   Chapter 41

   Bernadette was hugging her mother, when she suddenly jumped.  Marian
felt something wet splash against her ankles, and looked down. 
Bernadette's water had broken.

   There was a contingency plan for this, and Luthor took over to put it
into action.  He was supposed to take Johnnie Sue and whoever went into
labor first to the hospital, where Johnnie Sue would stay with whoever
until a husband could get there.  He simply substituted Marian for Johnnie
Sue.  Once they were there and people had taken Bernadette away, followed
by her mother, Luthor went back to the car and dug out the bag of change
that was stored in the car for just this situation.  He found a pay phone
and started calling numbers, spreading the word for Curtis Lee to get his
butt to the hospital unless he was actually in a gunfight.  Curtis Lee was
delivered to the hospital by his partner, lights flashing and siren
blaring, even though it was a KCMO squad car, operating on the Kansas side
of the city.

   In all the excitement, Luthor completely forgot about Marian.  When
Curtis Lee asked if Johnnie Sue had remembered to grab the suitcase packed
for this event, Luthor suddenly looked shame faced.

   "Johnnie Sue's not here with her," he said.  "I forgot the suitcase. 
I'll go get it now."

   Before Curtis Lee could stop him, he was gone.  Curtis Lee set about
trying to make sure his wife was all right.  They wouldn't let him see her,
and he started to get irate, until a nurse said "The woman with her has
everything under control.  Just sit in the waiting room!"

   Eight hours later, Curtis Lee was nudged awake.

   "You wouldn't by chance be Curtis Waggoner?" asked the doctor standing
over him.

   "Yessir," said Curtis Lee, prying his eyes open.

   "You interested in seeing your daughter?"

   "Another girl?" asked Curtis Lee, grinning.

   "Your ...  uh wife ...  says you owe her a son or two," said the doctor,
smiling slightly.

   Curtis Lee was led to a hospital room.  Bernie was lying back in bed,
looking relatively refreshed.  It had been a short labor this time.  Her
arms were empty.  He stepped into the room, and saw movement in the corner.
He almost fainted when he saw Bernadette's mother, sitting there, with a
tiny blanket-wrapped thing in her arms.  She was staring down into its
wrinkled brown face.  She looked up.

   "Good evening Curtis Lee," she said.  "I'd like to introduce you to your
daughter."

   Curtis Lee went and leaned over.  "Elizabeth?" he said softly.  He
turned to Bernie.  "You wanted Elizabeth, didn't you?" Bernie smiled and
nodded.

   "That's my middle name," said Marian.  "I'm honored."

   ************************

   It wasn't thirty minutes later that a nurse poked her head into the
room.

   "Anybody in here named Marian Wilson?"

   Marian looked up, surprised.

   "I am," she said.

   "Could you come with me, please?" asked the nurse, looking harried. 
"Your daughter is screaming that she will not have her baby until you're
there."

   Marian looked confused.  "But that's my daughter," she said, pointing at
Bernadette, who was nursing her new baby.

   "Well, I sure hope this is some kind of miracle, and that you have two
daughters, because that girl is going to drive us to distraction with her
screaming for her mamma!  She got here about an hour ago and insisted that
you were here somewhere.  I will personally buy you a steak dinner down at
the stock yards if you'll come shut her up."

   ************************************************

   Marian almost laughed out loud when the same doctor who had delivered
Bernadette walked up to the door of the labor room at the same time the
nurse led Marian there.  They had let Marian stay with Bernie the whole
way, even in the delivery room, so the doctor knew her.

   "We've got to stop meeting this way," he said, smiling.  "I don't
suppose you have any more at home like these two?"

   "This is it.  They always did everything together," laughed Marian.

   "Well this one's being a problem," said the man.  "It's her first, and
she's fighting it.  I need her to relax."

   "Let me talk to her," said Marian.  "Then give her some drugs." She
grinned.

   ************************************************

   By the time Hilda Mae gave an exhausted grunt and pushed Elijah Lee
Finshaw into the world, Marian was on her last legs.  She had driven almost
a thousand miles, and then presided, more or less, at the birth of two of
her grandchildren.  It was afternoon of the 16th of June, and she hadn't
slept since sometime late on the 14th.  Flossie had called Nathan, to tell
him his mother was there, and what was going on, and he had come to the
hospital to wait with his brothers-in-law.  Now, as Marian slowly dragged
her feet into the waiting room, he took her in his arms and practically
carried her to his car.  She dozed while he took her back to the farm, and
mumbled ineffectually as he actually carried her into the house and put her
to bed.  Then he kissed her on the forehead and left the room.

   She slept for twelve hours, got up and staggered around until she found
the bathroom, and then went back to bed for another four hours.  When she
got up, she found the suitcase she had packed into the car sitting on a
chair near the bed.  She felt filthy and took clothing to the bathroom,
where she took a shower.  Coming out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a
towel, her nose was assaulted by the smell of food, and she followed her
nose to the kitchen, where Flossie stood at the stove, cooking pancakes and
humming softly, while a little boy sat in a high chair banging a spoon on
the wooden tray.  He looked up at Marian and smiled.

   "Mommy!" he said excitedly as he saw a new person in the house.

   "I'm working on it," said Flossie.  "Hold your horses.  You're as bad as
your father!"

   "Hi!" said the little brown boy to Marian, brightly.

   Marian went to him and bent over.

   "You must be Nathan Junior," she said, smiling into his open and
trusting face.

   Flossie turned around, startled.  "Gracious me!" she gasped.  "I didn't
hear you come in.  I was beginning to think you'd miss breakfast too!"

   Marian's stomach gurgled so loudly that they all heard it, and the baby
laughed.

   "I'm amazed I could get in here without falling down," said Marian. 
"What day is it?"

   "Today is the seventeenth of June," said Flossie, looking concerned.

   "I haven't eaten in three days!" said Marian, looking for a chair and
sitting down heavily.

   "Well, we can fix that," said Flossie.  She scooped three pancakes from
the griddle to a plate.  There was already syrup and butter on the table,
beside a pile of forks and knives.  Marian wanted to pick up a pancake with
her fingers and just stuff it in her mouth, but she forced herself to
anoint it with butter and syrup first, and then took measured bites, almost
swooning at as the delicious taste spread through her mouth.  Flossie set a
glass of milk on the table beside Marian's plate, and handed a small
pancake to the baby, who took it in both hands and began taking bites out
of it happily.

   "He's just so precious," mumbled Marian, between bites.

   "Thank you," said Flossie over her shoulder at the stove.  "Your son
makes rather good babies, I think." One hand drifted to her belly, which
was large, and rubbed it gently.

   "I see he's been busy," said Marian.

   Flossie smiled.  "She's due in another month.  When Bernie and then
Hildy went into labor early, I was afraid I might follow, but all I had was
a few twinges.  You certainly stirred things up around here."

   "She?" asked Marian.  "As I recall we were both convinced this one would
be a girl." She waved her fork at the baby, who was pounding what was left
of his pancake against the wooden tray in front of him.

   Flossie laughed.  "One can always hope." She sobered.

   "I'm sorry for your loss."

   "Thank you," said Marian, thinking that if she were Flossie she'd be
dancing in the street.

   "How in the world did you convince Jesse's parents to let him come up
here?" asked Flossie, changing the subject again.

   "I showed them a picture of Johnnie Sue Thorpe breast feeding a baby
that obviously wasn't Luthor's," she said.  "I hoped it was Jesse's."

   "You hoped?" Flossie turned around.

   "Well ...  as opposed to some fellow she met when she got up here, I
suppose.  There was always that possibility."

   Flossie shook her head.  "Not if you really knew her.  The sun rises and
sets on those two young men."

   "Two?" asked Marian, confused.

   "It's complicated," said Flossie, piling pancakes on a plate and sitting
down.  She offered them to Marian, who took two more.  "I know all this has
been hard for you to take - I thought it was all craziness too, in the
beginning - but there are some things that still leave me staring at the
wallpaper, trying to figure out what in the world that girl is thinking."

   She went on to explain about the blood brothers, and how they had grown
up together, all for one and one for all.

   "And she's just going to live with both of them, and not marry either
one of them?!" Marian's jaw dropped.

   "She's just as unrepentant about that as she can be," said Flossie,
shaking her head.  "We all think she's crazy.  Well ...  not all of us. 
Luthor and Jesse seem to understand it all perfectly.  It's just such a
different way of thinking that I suppose us normal people can't get our
minds wrapped around it."

   "Normal people," said Marian.  Then she started laughing.  All the
tension of the last months, and of the trip, and of riding a thousand miles
with a black young man who impressed her more and more with every mile they
drove, and of her daughters going into labor ...  all of it rushed out of
her in gales of laughter as she heard Flossie Wilson characterize herself
and Marian as "normal people".

   Flossie was confused, at first, and as Marian seemed to fall apart
before her very eyes, she replayed the conversation in her head.  That, and
Marian's last comment made her realize what was happening.

   When Marian finally began to calm down, gasping for breath, Flossie took
a few bites and then said, "Well, when you think about it ...  we ARE
normal.  We love, and hate, and get tired and cranky, and have babies, and
worry about things, and laugh.  All people do those things.  I think you're
perfectly normal, and I think I'm normal too."

   Marian blinked.  On THAT level, the woman made all the sense in the
world.  She leaned back, sighing.  "I'd love to think I'm normal, but here
I am, a well-trained Southern Belle, who has blessed the unions of all
THREE of her lily white children to Black Africans, and I have all these
strange colored grandchildren, and I find myself suddenly in the hated
North, where, at least to present, I have seen only happiness and joy, when
there should only be misery and shame.  I couldn't feel normal if somebody
PAID me to!"

   Flossie didn't know whether to say anything or not.  Her own life had
undergone some things that had turned it upside down too.  All she could
think about was that she was a thousand times happier now, than she had
been four or five years ago.

   "Well," she said finally.  "Maybe it will grow on you."

   =

   In most situations like this, there would have been news exchanged, as
people who were from the same area, but had been apart, caught up on events
in both places.  There was none of that here, though.  Instead, Flossie
offered to show Marian around.  Marian asked Nathan Junior if Grandma could
carry him, and he happily held up his arms.  He promptly laid his head on
her shoulder and fell asleep, while they walked through the house, and then
outside, where Flossie described the others, and who lived in them.  Marian
was overwhelmed with what had been accomplished in three short years.

   "It looks like everything is pretty full up," said Marian as they sat on
a bench in the courtyard.

   "We'll make some room for you.  If I know your daughters, you'll be
staying with us for as long as they can keep you here." She looked at her
mother-in-law.  "What ARE your plans?"

   "I have no idea," said Marian, truthfully.  "I've got some money from
Harvey's insurance policies ...  or will when the insurance company finally
pries their greedy fingers from around it.  I wanted to see my Grandbabies.
I know I'm not going back there." She didn't have to stipulate where
"there" was.

   "You know you're welcome here for as long as you want to stay," said
Flossie.

   "We'll see," said Marian.  "I suppose I could try to get a job." There
was distaste in her voice, like she was thinking of rolling in the mud with
the pigs.  "I have no idea what I could actually DO, but you never know."
She brightened.  "I helped the new teacher when she got there.  I was
pretty good at that!"

   "Why don't you go to college and become a teacher then?" asked Flossie.

   Marian looked at her like she had just stepped out of a space ship. 
Then she saw that Flossie was completely serious.

   "Me?" she gasped.  "College?  I'm almost forty!"

   "OK," said Flossie, her face calm.  "So, when you finish college you'll
be forty-four.  You'll still have twenty years to teach.  You're healthy.
If that's too long, then teach for ten and then do something else."

   "This is how you put notions into my children's heads ...  isn't it?"
asked Marian, staring at this strange woman.

   "Those notions have turned out rather well ...  don't you think?" asked
Flossie sweetly.

   Marian didn't know what to think.  Her mind had, in the last two years,
undergone extreme stress, and change had resulted.  Sometimes she had
fought that change bitterly, but it had come anyway.  Now she had another
new and strange concept to grapple with.  Yet, already, the reasonableness
of what Flossie had suggested was seeping into her mind, soothing her
terror and suggesting that much more was possible than she might have
thought ...  even ten minutes ago!

   She looked at Flossie skeptically.

   "You know ...  you're a very dangerous woman."

   "Why Mother Wilson ...  " said Flossie, looking genuinely surprised.  "I
have NO idea what you're talking about!"

   The tenseness in Marian's body had, as often happens, transmitted itself
to the sleeping child in her arms.  Nathan Jr.  woke and fussed.  Flossie
offered to take him, saying he probably needed his diaper changed.  Marian
held onto him.

   "I haven't changed a diaper in twenty years," she said, standing up. 
"Let's just see if I remember how."

   When Nathan Jr.  had been cleaned up, and was lying happily naked on the
bed, Marian ran her fingertips over his body, examining him from head to
toes, gently pinching here, and tickling there, as the little boy laughed
and wiggled.

   "He's just so gorgeous," she sighed.  "He should be out of diapers by
now, you know."

   "I know," sighed Flossie.  "I've been so busy with school, and Nathan's
hopeless when it comes to potty training.  Johnnie Sue has no idea what to
do."

   "Well, then," said Marian.  "I have my first job.  Potty training it
is!" she said, grabbing Nathan Junior's little brown penis and giving it a
gentle tug.  "We'll teach you how to control this little thing right
smartly!" Her eyes widened as the child gurgled.  His penis had gotten
stiff.  "Oh my!" she chuckled.  "I'd forgotten about that part."

   "It seems to run in the family," said Flossie, looking sideways at her
mother-in-law to see her reaction.  "His father's even worse."

   Marian raised an eyebrow, but then, as women have done for millions of
years, they began to compare notes on the man they both loved.  Nathan, had
he heard, would have been scandalized at the things his mother and wife
said, and the stories they told each other about him.

   He probably also would have gotten an erection.

   ************************

   While her daughters were yet in the hospital, Marian got to know her
other grandchild, Juliet, who was being taken care of in the interim by
Johnnie Sue, who had her own four-month old too.

   Marian examined Juliet from stem to stern too, and found her to be just
as perfectly put together as her cousin.  Juliet was darker than Nathan
Jr., but definitely had Bernadette's fiery temperament.  As far as Juliet
was concerned, the world belonged to her, and all the people in it had been
put there to cater to her every whim.  Marian spoiled her hopelessly, and
by the time Bernadette came home with her little brother, Juliet tended to
reach for her Grandma, instead of her mother.

   Then her daughters were back, and she went into Grandma overload as she
helped them with her infant Grandbabies.  All things considered, Marian was
on cloud nine.

   "I never thought I'd get to see either of you again," she sighed one
time, while Hilda Mae suckled young Elijah.  "Much less my grandbabies. 
I'm so happy now that if I followed your father I'd go with a smile on my
face."

   Hilda Mae ignored the reference to her father.  She looked down at her
first child.  She had already forgotten the rigors of childbirth, and
stared at her baby lovingly.

   "Elijah Lee Waggoner," she whispered.  She looked up.  "I can't tell you
how happy I am that you get to see him."

   "You know," said Marian, wondering if she was about to open a can of
worms.  "Your father's middle name was also Lee."

   Hilda Mae blinked.  "I never even knew he HAD a middle name!"

   "He hated it," said Marian carelessly.  "Something about a boy who beat
him up when he was little.  He didn't talk about it much."

   Hilda Mae looked like she didn't know whether to be unhappy or not.

   "Imagine that," she said finally.  "Isn't it odd that I'd pick a man
with the same middle name as my own father?"

   "There's a lot of your father in you," said Marian carefully.  "He did
have some good points.  They might have been muddled up with his bad ones,
but all the good that was in him went into all three of you, I think."

   "You miss him," said Hilda Mae, looking serious.  "I don't know how I
feel about him."

   "I'm trying to remember the good," said her mother.

   "I will too," said Hilda Mae.  She couldn't think of anything like that
right this instant, but she was determined to try.  Thinking good things
about her mother was easy.  She looked up.

   "I can hear Elijah's thoughts," she said, her voice teasing.  "He's
saying thank you to his Grandma for letting me come up here so he could be
born."

   "Well," said Marian, standing up in preparation for going to see her
other brand new grandbaby, "we'll see about that.  Children have a way of
being very ungrateful sometimes." She smiled to show she was joking.

   Hilda Mae didn't smile.  "I love you, Mamma.  I love everything about
you.  You let me be happy, and I'll never, ever forget that."

   Before she started crying, Marian leaned over and kissed them both on
the head, and then scurried out of the room, where she could wipe her eyes
with the hem of the apron she was wearing.

   ************************************************

   Nathan and Curtis Lee got their heads together.  Things were moving
along even faster than they had planned.  Both of them felt like it would
be wise to get the rest of the gold out of Catfish Hollow, and up to Kansas
City, where it would be avaialable instantly, if it was needed.  Both also
agreed that only Nathan, and Luthor should be the ones to go get it. 
Nathan would have gone by himself, but they needed to get there and get
back without stopping.  Two drivers were needed.

   Both were tired when they got back, but everything had gone perfectly.
Moses and Curtis Lee lifted the still-heavy chest from the trunk of
Nathan's car, and carried it to its new resting place in a specially
constructed hidey-hole in the barn.  One of the rear wheels of the tractor
parked on the cover to the hole, so even if someone came snooping around,
they'd never uncover it.

   ************************************************

   In the month it took Flossie to get to the point where her second child
demanded to be born, Marian settled into the spare bedroom in Nathan's
house.  She basically ran a nursery, while the men worked, and the women
helped care for their children, slept, and began working in the garden and
orchard again.  Jesse helped her endlessly, saying he "needed educating on
babies".  Sometimes they helped plant fruit trees, placing children on
blankets spread on the ground, while their mothers, father and grandmother
dug holes and carried pails of water to soak the newly planted soil.  When
Curtis Lee found them thus engaged, one day, when he came home from work,
he promptly went out and found a used tractor and water tank on a trailer.
It was delivered the next day, and then they had to figure out how to fill
it.  Nathan and Luthor took on repairing the windmill, replacing the head
and bent blades with new ones, and running the pipe up so that a canvass
hose could be put into the fill hole of the water trailer.  By the next
week, Johnnie Sue was teaching the others how to drive the tractor, and
things went much faster.

   Marian's daughters also came up with a plan to build their mother a
bungalow, in the space at the top of the ( ) configuration of the houses.
It would only be a one bedroom structure, but would have huge closets, and
its own kitchen.  Marian tried to argue with them, but they insisted that
she was going to live with them "forever" and needed her own space.  They
had also joined Flossie in urging their mother to go to college and get a
degree of some kind.

   ***************************

   In mid July, Flossie gave birth to a nine pound, one ounce boy who,
other than being heftier looking than his brother, was the spitting image
of Nathan Jr.  when he was newborn.  They finally decided on Abraham, in
honor of the man who had started the emancipation of a people who had now,
at least in this small microcosm of society, were able to enjoy a measure
of freedom that that long dead President would never have dreamed of.

   Marian added him to her crèche of cherished grandbabies.

   ************************=

   Johnnie Sue stretched the limits of Marian's belief, sometimes.  Most of
the time she was as normal as the day is long.  But, when the mood took
her, she would engage in long, passionate kisses with either Luthor or
Jesse, often right in front of the other.  Neither man seemed to think a
thing about it.  She was also immodest to a fault, leaving her shirt
unbuttoned three buttons, and exposing her breasts to anyone who happened
to be looking her way.  Her men didn't mind in the least, sometimes
slipping a hand inside that open shirt while they kissed her.  She was as
carefree as a young colt, frolicking in a meadow.  Everyone else but Marian
ignored them all, as if such bawdy behavior was perfectly acceptable.

   One day in early August, Johnnie Sue asked Marian if she'd watch
Jeremiah for an hour or two so that Luthor could relax when he got home
from work.  Marian had been playing with the five-month old for an hour
when he soiled his diaper so badly that it got into his clothing as well.
She took off his clothes, put them in the wash, and then carried the naked
baby over to Johnnie Sue's house.  Her intent was to walk in quietly, get
some clothes, and then leave, not bothering anyone.

   When she opened the front door and stepped in, she was faced with
Johnnie Sue, stark naked, on her hands and knees on the living room carpet.
Luthor, also naked, was lustily pounding his penis into her from behind,
while Jesse stood in front of her, his dark body gleaming with sweat. 
Johnnie Sue's nose was pressed against his curly black pubic hair, and his
penis was obviously clear into her throat.

   That Johnnie Sue was having the time of her life was made clear by the
sounds she was making in that throat.

   Jesse's eyes opened, and then went wider as he saw Marian standing there
in shock.

   "Oh my word!" said the woman weakly.

   She tried to move, but couldn't.  Harvey had taken her this way
sometimes, but it hadn't felt like this looked.  And, while she had heard
whispered rumors that a man's penis could be loved this way, she had never
really believed it.

   "Johnnie Sue!" choked Jesse, stepping back.  His long, black penis
slurped out of her mouth and became visible to Marian, who stared at it. 
She felt her knees start to weaken, and stepped to lean against the door
jamb.  The door was still open.

   Johnnie Sue moaned with unhappiness as the thing she loved to suck was
taken from her.  She looked up at Jesse, saw his wide-eyed stare, and
looked over her shoulder to see Marian, equally wide-eyed, holding her son.

   "Oops!" she yelped.  She tried to crawl forward, off of Luthor's
pounding prick, but his hands held her hips in an iron grip.

   "LUTHOR!" she yelped.  "Somebody's here!"

   Luthor looked over his own shoulder, and literally jumped backwards, his
penis making a sucking, wet sound as it was jerked out of Johnnie Sue's
sex. Marian stared at his penis too, which looked almost sickly white after
the smooth ebony of Jesse.  Luthor covered his groin with both hands, and
darted for the bedroom.  Jesse followed.

   Johnnie Sue got up, looking like a marble statue, and walked toward
Marian.  She had a pretty good idea why Jeremiah was naked.

   "Did you poop your pants again?" she cooed to the little boy, who
reached for his mother.  When she took him he immediately tried to latch
onto a nipple.  "Hey!" chided Johnnie Sue.  "No snacking between meals!"
She pried his mouth off her nipple and then shuddered as her milk let down.
"Now look what you did, you naughty boy!" she scolded, as drips of white
seeped from the nipple the boy had sucked.  She gave him the nipple with a
sigh, and looked at Marian, who was still standing there in complete shock.

   "Sorry," said Johnnie Sue, not sounding sorry at all.  "It's Luthor's
turn to make me pregnant.  We didn't expect anyone to come in."

   "Luthor's turn?" Marian's voice was dry and husky.  Seeing those two
manly penises had made something twist inside her, and she wasn't happy
about it.

   "Jesse got to do it the first time.  Now it's Luthor's turn," said
Johnnie Sue, like she was talking about someone taking turns washing
dishes. "I'm in love with them both, you know.  I can't marry either one of
them because of it." She didn't seem to think that was strange, or that she
was standing there naked, talking to Marian.  "I know it probably seems odd
to you," she acknowledged, "but I've loved them both since we were about
eleven."

   "Odd." The word even felt strange in Marian's dry mouth.

   "I hope this won't cause problems between us," said Johnnie Sue
hopefully, but with a frown on her face.  "It's just the way we are.  I
mean we didn't set out to BE this say," said the young woman.  "But I can't
do anything about the way I feel."

   Jeremiah spat out the nipple.  Johnnie Sue tried to encourage him to
take the other, but he turned his face away.

   "See!" she scolded the baby.  "I knew you weren't really hungry.  Now
the other one is all full and Luthor or your Daddy is going to have to ..."
She stopped, and flushed bright red.  "Oh my!" she moaned.  "I'm just
making things worse!"

   Marian realized her own nipples were tingling.  With a start, she
cringed, acknowledging that her body was betraying her with sexual
excitement.  The image of the two men making ...  love? ...  with this girl
was stark in her mind.  It was, at the same time, the most erotic and most
disgusting thing she had ever seen.  Her mind flitted back to memories of
things she and Harvey had done.  No, this wasn't the most disgusting thing
she'd ever experienced.  Her mind warred, but all Johnnie Sue saw was the
cringe, and the twisted look on the woman's face.

   "I'm sorry," she said softly.  "I'll take him now.  You don't have to
have anything to do with us if ..." Her eyes glistened as they began to
fill with tears, and she turned and fled to the same bedroom door the men
had gone into.  The door slammed, but couldn't keep out the "SHIT ...  SHIT
...  SHIT!" that issued from Johnnie Sue's tortured throat.

   ************************

   Marian wandered around the farm in a daze for the next hour.  She didn't
pay any attention to where she was going, only that there were no people
there, wherever she went.  She found herself in the orchard, full of young
trees, reaching into the sky, trying to become what they were intended.

   Eventually she recognized the heaviness in the pit of her stomach as
unhappiness, and her mind worked at that.  Why was she unhappy?  She had
seen something ...  disgusting?  But why would that make her feel like
something she loved had faded?  Her mind kept going back to those first few
seconds, as she grappled with what was happening in front of her when she
walked in that door.  What HAD been going on?  Sex.  That's what had been
going on.  Perverted, unnatural sex.  Why did something in her want to put
a question mark at the end of that?  Perverted?  Unnatural?  The first
epiphany that assaulted her mind was about the word "sex".  That wasn't
just sex she had seen.  Johnnie Sue had been making love.  She was being
made love to, not just having sex.  That's what Harvey had done to her. 
She and Harvey had sex.  Its purpose wasn't for love, not in the sense that
she had seen in that room.  It was to punish her.  It was to release the
flood of self doubt and self hatred by letting her scream into a pillow
while her body made something happy out of all those negative thoughts.

   But that's not what had been going on in that room.  She saw that
clearly now.  As strange as it had looked, Johnnie Sue had been making love
with her men, not just having sex.  She had been sharing something precious
with them, and they with her.

   The second epiphany that assaulted Marian's mind left her feeling like
she wanted to vomit.  The look on Johnnie Sue's face when she turned and
fled ...  it was a look of self loathing that Marian knew well.  She'd seen
that look on her own face a thousand times.  By her judgement, Marian had
killed something precious and beautiful, crushing it in the fist of a woman
who had never had what was lavished on Johnnie Sue by the two men she
loved. If she hadn't killed it, she had dealt it a mortal blow.  Never
again would Johnnie Sue feel free and good about doing that with the men
she loved.

   The thought that she had killed something so beautiful finally brought
up lunch, and Marian gagged on it intentionally, punishing herself for her
crime.

   She sank to the ground, crying, mourning for herself, and all those
years, and for Johnnie Sue, and for everything that had gone horribly wrong
in her life.

   ************************

   Johnnie Sue got dressed.  She felt like she had to make amends for what
had happened.  She went out, ignoring the men, and looked for Marian.  She
saw her, and then saw her vomiting.  She felt dirty for the first time in
her life.  She couldn't go out there now.  The woman hated her.  Shoulders
slumping, she went to find Bernadette.

   ************************

   Marian felt hands on her shoulders, and a towel was thrust in front of
her.  She looked up, vomit clinging to her lips, and through tears that
made the image waver, she saw her older daughter.  Even the shimmer of
tears couldn't cover up the look of concern on Bernadette's face.

   Bernadette took the towel back from her mother's limp fingers, and sat
down on the ground.  She dabbed at her mother's face, but didn't say
anything.  Marian finally leaned over, spat to clear her mouth, and took
the towel to wipe at traces of lunch that had spattered her clothing.

   "I'm sorry, Mamma," said Bernadette uncertainly.

   "No, I'm the one who should be sorry," said Marian, taking a deep
breath. "I should never have come here."

   Bernadette's face was stricken, and her own eyes filled with tears.

   "No, Mamma, you can't leave!  She feels terrible, Mamma.  She didn't
mean for you to see that!  Please don't leave us Mamma!  Johnnie Sue said
they can go somewhere else." Now tears spilled down her cheeks.

   Marian felt another wave of self contempt.  Not only had she killed
something beautiful, she was killing another relationship.

   She didn't think she had anything left in her, but suddenly she was
gushing out self hate, telling her daughter all the things she had done
wrong, all the sordid things she had done to punish herself, and how
worthless she was for making trouble here.  Bernadette leaned further and
further back, her mouth open as she heard her mother say horrible things
about herself, things Bernadette hadn't imagined, despite what she had
heard through her parents' bedroom door.  When Marian wailed that seeing
Johnnie Sue with two men had made HER want to be loved like that too,
Bernadette goggled.  She had never heard such pain in a voice, even when
Curtis Lee had told of the things whites did to blacks when he was younger.

   Suddenly she was on her knees, holding her crying mother, rocking her
and telling her she was wrong ...  that things weren't like that any more
...  that everything would be OK.  The universe twisted as daughter became
mother, and soothed her thirty-nine-year old child.

   "But I've ruined everything for her," cried Marian, talking about
Johnnie Sue.

   "It's just a misunderstanding, Mamma," crooned Bernadette, hugging her
mother's head to her chest.  You think Johnnie Sue hates you, and she
thinks you hate her, but NEITHER of those is really true!"

   "But the way I LOOKED at her," wailed Marian.  "I can't take that back!
I can't take ANY of it back!" she cried.

   "Mamma," said Bernadette soothingly.  "We LOVE you, Mamma.  It doesn't
matter what happened in the past.  You raised us all so well, Mamma.  We're
all so happy, and you have the grandbabies you always wanted.  You helped
with ALL of that, Mamma.  It doesn't matter about Daddy, or any of that. 
You can be happy too, Mamma." she insisted.

   Like a child, who wants to believe, Marian felt hope seep into her
bones.

   "Just talk to her, Mamma," urged Bernadette.  "It was all just a
misunderstanding.  We're all used to them.  It was only normal for you to
be shocked.  Talk to her.  Nothing bad has to come from this."

   *************************

   After all was said and done, Marian went to her room and changed
clothes. Bernadette waited, and walked with her to Johnnie Sue's house,
where Johnnie Sue was sitting on the couch, looking miserable.  She jumped
up, saying she was sorry, when they walked in.  Bernadette held up her hand
to stop her.

   "There has been a misunderstanding," she said firmly.  "You two just
need to have a chat." She went to the bedroom, where Jesse and Luthor were
lying on opposite sides of the big bed they all shared, also looking
miserable.  "You two come with me," she ordered.  They followed her like
puppy dogs, cringing when they saw Marian, who was already leaning forward,
talking quickly in low tones to Johnnie Sue.  Johnnie Sue blinked at
whatever Marian was saying, and Bernadette hustled the two men out.  Then
she had a long talk with them too.

   Chapter 42

   It would be a lie to say things were all better immediately.  But the
long talk Marian and Johnnie Sue had did help a great deal.  It took a
couple of weeks, but then things were back to normal.  Bernadette got Hilda
Mae and her brother together and shakily repeated some of what she had
heard their mother confess.  The other two were shocked as well, but it was
different coming from a third person ...  not quite so personal.

   "Mamma needs to find herself another man," said Hilda Mae at one point.
"She needs a good man in her life ...  somebody to treat her like Moses
treats me."

   That thought was a little weird for her older brother and sister, and
they scoffed at first.  But that thought stayed with them.

   **********************

   Flossie continued her crusade to get Marian into college, especially
after what Nathan told her when they were in bed together one night.  He
only told her part of what Bernadette had relayed, but she agreed
immediately with Hilda Mae's take on things.  Over the next couple of days,
she got together all the information that would be needed to enroll Marian
as a Freshman at the University of Missouri at Kansas City.  UMKC had a
teacher's program, specifically designed to supply teachers to the rapidly
growing population of Kansas City.  A number of veterans of the Korean
Conflict, disillusioned with blue collar jobs after they came home, had
sought teaching jobs as an alternative, and the University had put in place
a program that welcomed older students.  There was every likelihood, she
insisted, that Marian wouldn't be the only person over twenty-five if she
attended.

   **********************

   In April Johnnie Sue practically squirted out a Caucasian baby in a
labor that only lasted four hours.  He was named Thomas Thorpe, after
Luthor's paternal grandfather.  By the time he was born, little Thomas, had
a forty-year-old Godmother who had completed almost two semesters of study
toward a Bachelor's degree in Elementary Education.

   It hadn't been as easy as any of them had hoped.  Marian's children had
to help her with her homework much more often than she had ever helped them
with theirs.  But, as time passed, her confidence level rose, and by the
time she was able to hold Thomas in her arms, she was convinced that she
would, in three years, be a real, live teacher.

   She was, to her chagrin, the oldest student in her class.  She reminded
Flossie of that regularly.

   The next year, she came home one day all a-flutter.  One of her
professors from the previous year, had calmly informed her that her course
of study would not bring her back to any of his classes, and that he was
therefore free to ask her to have dinner with him.

   "Too bad he probably has warts and no hair or something," said Hilda
Mae, as they gathered for one of their weekly communal suppers.

   "Not at all!" said her mother.  "He's gorgeous!" She blushed.  "I mean
he's a perfectly normal looking man." She was flustered and went on.  "He
has that dark Mediterranean look, like he's from Greece, or Spain or
something."

   "So did you accept?" asked Johnnie Sue.

   "Well, I couldn't just dash the poor man's hopes," said Marian in a
dignified voice.

   "Is he married?" asked Nathan.  When everyone stared at him he shrugged.
"You know how many domestic disturbances I've been to where some married
guy was getting a little on the side and his wife found out?"

   "Nathan Wilson!" said his mother, her voice horrified.  "I do NOT plan
to ...  give some man a little on the side!"

   "Just make sure he isn't married before you go out with him," counseled
Curtis Lee sagely.  "Just in case."

   "In case what?" asked Marian.

   Nathan grinned.  "In case he's like Curtis Lee and me.  All us men are
the same, you know.  We only have one thing on our minds."

   Marian spluttered and blushed, while Bernadette glared at her husband,
and brother.

   "You two shut up!" she said forcefully.  "If my beautiful Mamma wants to
go out and have a good time, you leave her alone!"

   "All I'm saying is that men ..." Curtis lee was grinning, but Bernadette
cut him off like a weed.

   "We all KNOW what you're saying!  You just hush your mouth.  I'll talk
to YOU later!" she said indignantly.

   "In the bedroom?" The hope in Curtis Lee's voice matched the grin on his
face.

   The men were shouted down by the women, and dinner progressed.  If the
men would have heard the women talking after supper, as they got Marian
into a bedroom and began instructing her on how to dress, and act, to get a
man so horny that he'd be wrapped around her little finger, they would have
cackled.

   But they didn't hear.

   They didn't see Marian blush as her daughters gave her explicit tips on
exactly how to enslave a man in bed.  She was practically panting when they
finally stopped.  Just talking about it had gotten them all excited, and
they left to go find their men ...  to have a little talk.  Marian,
unfortumately, not having a man, just stayed horny.

   **********************

   Robert Gates was not, as it turned out, married.  He was divorced, and
had been for five years.  The turmoil of that divorce had convinced him
that women weren't worth the pain.

   But Robert Gates WAS a man, and both Nathan and Curtis Lee had not
mispoken.  When Bob heard that sybilant Southern accent that flowed from
Marian Wilson's mouth in his class, he felt his nuts tighten.  She had
fascinated him the whole semester.  She had a presence about her that made
the young girls in his class seem like puppies, scampering about with no
idea of what life was all about, and not caring.  Her maturity was so
refreshing that she captivated him.  She wasn't hard on the eyes either. 
She wore her hair in an older style, and dressed the same way, but her
clothes couldn't hide the lush figure under them.  When he compared that to
the relatively flat-chested young women he had been surrounded by for
years, his fingers itched to see what she would feel like under them.

   He was further taken by her stubborn intent to do this thing she was
trying to do.  That it was hard for her was obvious.  She hadn't been in
school for decades, and she was far behind the times, but, with dogged
determination, she did what it took to pull herself along.  On the other
hand, her life experiences gave her the edge over her younger classmates.
She understood real pain, and real love, and all the other emotions that
the eighteen-to-twenty-four crowd just flirted with.  She understood
sacrifice.  She had character, and he found her irresistible.

   Somewhat unconsciously, he had kept himself in shape, as his
subconscious mind tried to compete with men half his age for the nubile
young things that surrounded them all.  He'd had an almost-fling or two
with his younger female students, but they always left him feeling like
there had to be so much more.  His wife had been self-possessed and
opinionated in that way that didn't require rational support for one's
opinion.  She felt that way, and that was good enough for her.  She had
also been a ladder-climber, constantly harping on him for not seeking a
higher rung on his own scholastic ladder.  She wanted to be married to the
President of the university, not just a professor.  When he found out she
was fucking the Dean of Students, he cut her loose, and had been more or
less bitter ever since.

   It was for all these reasons that he was astonished to find that, when
Marian Wilson glided into his classroom, his prick misbehaved badly.

   It was, in fact, misbehaving badly now, as she sat across from him, in a
dress that showed WAY more creamy cleavage, and was WAY more up-to-date
than anything she had ever worn in his class.  In addition to looking
positively ravishing, she also looked distinctly uncomfortable.

   "I'm sorry," he said instinctively.  He had been looking at her breasts.
"I find myself having difficulty behaving like a gentleman."

   "Oh, never mind," she said, looking surprised that she'd said it.  "I'm
just not used to men paying any attention to me."

   Bob knew, from looking at her records, that she was a widow, and had
been for more than a year.  "I find that incredibly hard to believe," he
said, meaning it.

   They hadn't even ordered yet.

   She fanned her face with her hand and blushed.  "Dear me," she said in
that gorgeous Southern drawl.  "It appears that my children might have been
right." The look in his dark eyes ...  the naked desire there ...  made her
feel faint.

   "Your children?" he asked.  His ex-wife had hated children.  She'd have
had her perfectly healthy uterus cut out if she could have found a doctor
who would do it.

   "I have three," she said, feeling a little less light headed.  "They're
all grown now.  I have grandbabies!" she said.

   "I'd like to hear about them sometime," he said.  "What did your
children say?"

   "My son," Marian blushed at the fact that she was actually going to tell
this man, "reminded me that all men are alike, and only want one thing."

   "Your son is a wise man," commented Bob.

   Marian felt her eyes open wide, and her stomach do flip flops.  He was
so OPEN about all this!  A Southern man would never have been so blatant!

   Bob saw that he had shocked her.

   "I apologize again," he said, leaning back.  "My only excuse is that you
fascinate me."

   "Me?" she squeaked.  She was ...  fascinating?  "Why, you hardly know
me!"

   "Which is why we are here," he said smoothly.  "I want very badly to get
to know you better ...  much better."

   Marian felt her nipples start to tingle.  What he had said could be
taken in so many different ways.  No man had ever told her, in so many
words, that he wanted to make her squeal in bed.  In all the things she had
ever done with Harvey, never had they talked about what to do, or why to do
it.  It had just progressed, each able to see, in some mysterious fashion,
what the other needed.

   "I'm making you uncomfortable," he said, looking downcast.  "Perhaps we
should do this another time?" It was obvious he meant just being together
on a date, rather than anything intimate.

   Marian felt panic.  She didn't want to leave this man's presence.  She
LIKED how open and honest he was, even if it made her feel wiggly inside.

   "Nonsense," she said, getting control of her voice.  "We're both
adults." She had a thought.  "Even if I'm only a helpless Sophomore," She
smiled tentatively.  "Are ALL Northern men as ...  comfortable as you are
with a woman?"

   He laughed, and Marian felt her insides melt at the beauty of it.

   "I don't know that I'd characterize myself as comfortable with you.  You
make me feel things that are definitely not appropriate for a first date
... with a Sophomore or any other woman."

   Marian was only mildly shocked to feel herself becoming ...  damp.  It
made her feel naughty, somehow.

   "You want to know a secret?" she whispered across the table, suddenly
feeling free to be naughty.  "My ...  thoughts are not so pristine either."
She leaned back to see how he dealt with honesty that was completely out of
line for a dignified Southern woman.

   His dark eyes glinted, and his smile was feral.  She recognized that
hungry smile, and was astonished to find that it didn't bother her.  She
felt desirable for the first time in a long, long time.

   "Do they have hamburgers down there in ...  wherever you came from?"
asked Bob.

   She giggled.  "Of course they do.  It's not a foreign country!  It's
called Catfish Hollow."

   He only raised one eyebrow.  "I have to hear about that too," he said.

   He looked around.  He had chosen this place because it was posh, and
they let you take your time.  He hadn't wanted to be rushed through dinner.
He felt differently now.

   "You want to get a burger?" he asked.

   "You sound like you're in a hurry to get this over with and take me
home," she pouted.

   "I can't take you home.  I don't know where you live," he said.

   She had been unsure about whether seeing the farm ...  or the people AT
the farm ...  would get things off to a bad start, and had therefore driven
into the city to meet him there.  His next comment interrupted her slight
feeling of guilt at hiding who her children were.

   "If we got this over with, as you characterize it ...  the only home I
could take you to would be ...  mine."

   Marian fanned her face again, blushing furiously.  "Oh, my dear!"

   "Of course we could stay here and spend the next two hours dining
peacefully, if you prefer," he said gently, realizing how flustered she
was. He didn't normally behave this way.  He blamed it on how he reacted to
her mere presence.

   Marian realized she was making a fool of herself.  If she stayed here,
like this, for two more hours, they'd have to throw out the chair she was
sitting on.

   "A hamburger would be delightful!" she blurted.  She wanted to cover her
face with her hands.

   Before she could, though, he was out of his chair and pulling hers back
as she stood automatically.  She resisted the impulse to look at the seat
of her chair.  She needed to change her panties.  They had been unashamedly
supplied, along with the matching bra and garter belt she was wearing, by
her younger daughter.  They were lacy in the extreme - you could actually
see through them - and the panties were of the new bikini style, that rode
high on the hips, and covered as little as the bra.  When she'd first put
THAT on, she had to tug and pull to get it to completely cover her nipples,
and the brown circle of flesh around them.  The undergarments were black,
too, which made her honey-colored hair seem to gleam in the light.  Still,
when she'd stared at her reflection in the mirror, her thought had been
"Not bad for an old girl!"

   His hand, in the small of her back, pressing gently as he guided her
toward the front of the restaurant, made her feel like she was running a
fever.  When they stepped out into the evening air she welcomed the cool
breeze.  Spring came late around here, at least by her reckoning.  He took
her to their cars, which were parked side-by-side.  He had been standing
negligently beside his, leaning on the fender, when she pulled into the
parking lot and parked beside him.

   "Yours or mine?" he asked.  His was probably only three years old.  Her
dusty old station wagon looked like a mongrel dog next to his, but he was
sweet for asking.

   "Yours," she said.  "I'm practically a stranger here.  I had to have
them draw me a map to find this place."

   "Ahhhh," he sighed, heavily.  "You tempt me to get you hopelessly lost.
Then you'd be dependent on me and I could have my way with you."

   He grinned to show he didn't mean it, but it didn't do any good.  Marian
felt almost panic as she felt the urge to throw herself on this man who
made her feel so attractive and ...  yes ...  even sexy!

   "I, sir, am a Southern lady, and as such, am reserved and proper at all
times," she almost panted.  "You would be a cad of the worst stripe to take
advantage of little old me under circumstances, such as you have described.
I must warn you, Sir, that I have my limits." She waited for the faint look
of disappointment to register on his face, and there were more flip-flops
in her belly.  Then she went on.  "And if you keep talking to me like that,
I will not be responsible for any indelicate behavior I may display.  Now,
I must really insist that you buy me a hamburger before I throw myself at
you like a hussy!"

   The disappointment flashed into a wide smile.

   "A hamburger for the Lady, most quickly!" he barked, as if he were
yelling at an invisible fry cook.  "Then ..." he paused dramatically and
twirled imaginary moustaches, "I shall let you ravish me most thoroughly
... heh, heh, heh." His eyes slowly dropped, plainly with full intention,
to the deep cleavage below her chin.

   **********************

   In the car, Bob intended to be the consummate gentleman.  As he calmly
negotiated through traffic that terrified Marian, he peppered her with
questions about her children.  He approved volubly when he found out Nathan
was a policeman.  He got out of her roughly where Catfish Hollow was, and
was disappointed when she didn't know how it got its name.  Then he
volunteered that he had been raised in Massachusetts.

   "A damn Yankee," she said with false disgust.

   "Of the worst type," he agreed amiably.  "My Great Great Grandfather
fought in the Civil War." He grinned.  "On the winning side, I might add."

   "And now you seek to reap the spoils of war?" she arched an eyebrow.

   "It is my due!" he said confidently.  "Men who do war always take the
best women for themselves."

   "But you didn't fight in the war," she pointed out.  "It is only your
Great Great Grandfather who has the right to claim me!"

   "Surely you've heard of inheritance!" he shot back.  "Back then you
could inherit a man's slaves.  At least I should be able to inherit a
simple woman."

   "Women are never simple," she said drolly, enjoying this verbal battle.
"Men have never been wise enough to recognize that."

   "That's why my Great Great Great Great Great," he took a breath, "and so
on Grandfather just whacked the woman he wanted on the head with a club and
dragged her off to his cave."

   His comment reminded Marian of Harvey.  That's how he'd been.  She shook
off the memory, but not before he saw the pain on her face.

   "You needn't worry about that," he assured her.  "I don't have a club
... or a cave.  I prefer to lure the unsuspecting lady into my modern day
lair, with all the creature comforts to make her want to stay."

   "I thought you were just going to claim me as spoils of war and be done
with it." she said, the sparkle back in her eye.

   "Somehow," he said, his eyes ahead on traffic, "I get the feeling you're
not the kind of woman who is claimed easily.  And besides, if you're
involved, I want to draw it out ...  not be done with it."

   He had done it again, she thought to herself, feeling the warm glow of a
sincere compliment.  How did he DO that?  She was ready to rip her clothes
off right here in the car!

   He suddenly turned off the street and into a parking lot.

   "Zesto?" she said, reading the sign.  "What in the world is a Zesto?"

   "Only the place where you'll find the finest hamburgers, the most
decadent chocolate malts, and fries worth fighting over," he said easily.
"Perkins gives them a run for their money, but Perkins is a little high
brow for this evening." He pulled into a parking spot.  "Trust me, when
you're done with this meal, you'll want to ravish me just because you're so
satisfied." He grinned.  "In fact, I risk a great deal by bringing you
here. Some women have been known to be so completely satisfied after eating
here that they lost all interest in ravishment completely!"

   She laughed.  "I don't know you well at all, but I think I know you well
enough already to know you wouldn't risk that." She dimpled.  "They
probably put those aphrodisiacs in the food here.  That's probably why you
brought me here."

   "I hope not to need aphrodisiacs," he said, almost seriously.

   It was only twenty feet to the front door of the small establishment,
but he took her hand.

   She suddenly wished it were much further.

   **********************

   Marian sat back and groaned, putting both hands on her stomach.

   "I know why women can't think about ...  what did you call it? 
Ravishment?  I know why they can't think about that after they eat here. 
I'm so stuffed I don't know if I can get up!"

   "It was good, though, huh?"

   "I have to admit, I've never had a better burger," she sighed.

   "I'm right about most things," he said easily.  "You should make it a
habit to believe everything I say and do ...  whatever I tell you to do."
His eyes sparkled.

   Marian, who had calmed down completely during the meal as they chatted
about everything, and nothing, was astonished at how this man seemed to
know where her switches were.  The clear innuendo in his voice sent
electric shocks through her body, and she felt her nipples again.

   "Such as?" she asked.

   He waved his fingers in front of her face.  "You are getting very
sleepy," he said, his voice in a drone.  "You are feeling quite warm.  You
want to take your clothing off to get cool.  You know it would be
delightfully cool if only you didn't have on all that heavy, hot,
clothing."

   She giggled, and he shrugged.  "Sometimes it works, and sometimes it
doesn't.  I don't think you were trying hard enough."

   She laughed, and then felt suddenly awkward.

   "So ...  what now?"

   He slumped.  "I guess ravishment is out.  How about I take you somewhere
as beautiful as you are?  Have you seen the Plaza yet?"

   Her face told him everything he needed to know, and his face lit up.

   "You, are in for a treat," he said confidently.

   **********************

   She was bowled over by the collection of Spanish looking stores that
made up that part of Kansas City known as the Country Club Plaza.  He
walked her around the fountains, and took her into Halls, which scandalized
her when she found out the cheapest thing in the store was a ten dollar
handkerchief.  He took her to the Nelson Art Gallery, which was closed, but
still lit up, and walked her through the gardens there.  she felt like she
was in a fairy tale.  The sounds, sights and smells were intoxicating, and
she felt twenty years younger.  When she looked at her watch and saw it was
ten, she felt like Cinderella hearing the clock strike midnight.

   "Lands sakes," she sighed.  "It's late.  I should be home in bed by
now!"

   "My Uncle Bob, after who I am named," said Bob, "had an old saying he
used to tell me when I was a teenager.  'A good girl is always in bed by
ten'." He waited just long enough for Marian to nod, and went on "'and home
by midnight.'" He grinned.  "I had hoped you were a good girl, but I see
it's already ten."

   "You are insufferable!" said Marian, again ready to take her clothes off
for this man.  "I should find a phone and call my children.  They'll be
worried about me."

   "It just so happens that my house is about five minutes from here," he
said hopefully.  "I have a very nice phone."

   **********************

   "Flossie?" Marian said into the phone.  "I'm sorry to be calling so
late, but we sort of lost track of the time and I didn't want you to
worry."

   "We weren't worried," said Flossie, yawning.  "Bernie and Hildy swore
they were going to wait up for you, to hear all the juicy tidbits, but they
dozed off.  I sent them home half an hour ago."

   "Is Nathan there?" asked his mother.

   "He's got the graveyard shift tonight," said Flossie.  "Don't be
speeding around town or he might be the one to stop you and give you a
ticket," she joked.  "Are you having a good time?"

   "Absolutely," said Marian, glancing at Bob, who was sitting on the
couch, sipping an inch of good Bourbon.  She didn't want him to know what
she was talking about.  "But it's getting awfully late."

   "Do you have anything to do in the morning?" asked Flossie.

   "Well ...  no ...  not really ...  but ..."

   "Well, you know what they say," said Flossie.  "If you don't have
anything to do, don't do it around here.  If you're having fun, I say keep
having it until you're tired.  Just don't fall asleep on the way home."

   "Well, if you think it's all right," said Marian, unsure quite what
Flossie was suggesting, and whether it was what she was thinking or not.

   "You're a big girl," said Flossie.  "You've been working very hard.  If
he's fun to be with, then have some fun."

   "All right," said Marian.  "I'll see you in the morning."

   **********************

   Marian froze as she realized what her last comment to Flossie might have
sounded like to Bob.  She turned to find him looking at her interestedly.

   "What I meant was that, when she got up in the morning, I'd be there and
see her," Marian said.

   "What else could you have meant?" He smiled.

   "I didn't mean I'd spend the night here," she said, panic edging into
her voice.

   "I didn't expect you to," he said.

   "But you've been teasing me all night!" she said.

   "That's only because I'm besotted with you.  I'm like a seventeen year
old out on a surprise date with the prom queen.  I haven't felt like this
since ...  you know what?  I don't think I've EVER felt like this.  I look
at you and I want to shiver.  I hear your voice and I want you to talk
forever.  That's all.  I'm not usually like this, believe me.  I also know
that you are a true lady, and that I'm probably ruining any chance I ever
have of ...  well ...  you already talked to your son."

   Marian just stared at him.  He had laid himself open to her.  He was so
incredibly open.  He said what he thought, and it was delightful.

   "Tell me three things about me that could be improved," she said,
suddenly.  "Three physical things."

   He kept looking at her, his eyes darting up and down her body.

   "OK, you obviously work hard, because your hands are dry and red. 
That's one." He pretended to think hard.  "Your hairstyle is about ten
years out of date, I imagine.  I'm sure there are a whole bunch of people
who would think you looked more modern if you updated that.  On the other
hand, I kind of like it the way it is, so maybe that doesn't count." He
looked at her for a ruling.

   "It counts," she said.

   "OK ...  what else?  Hmmmmm.  I don't suppose I could get away with
saying you're WAY overdressed ...  could I?"

   "Nice try, buster.  Come on, one more thing."

   "I get a reward for this, right?" he asked hopefully.

   "Maybe," she said.

   "You're not going to like this one," he warned her.

   "You let me be the judge of that," she said, stepping toward him.

   "OK, but I warned you." He stood up, and came to stand right in front of
her.  "You've got the teensiest little bit of extra flesh ...  right ... 
here." His finger went to her abdomen, and he ran it from one side to the
other, just about where her panties crossed high over her hips.  "It
pooches a little when you're not holding it in, which you usually do."

   As his finger drifted across her abdomen, Marian repressed a shiver.  No
man had touched her like this, not even Harvey, with such a light,
sensitive touch.  And certainly no man other than Harvey had ever touched
her there.  He walked around behind her, and then stepped up to press his
front to her back.  His hands went to her waist and his mouth came to her
right ear.  He spoke softly - not a whisper - his voice almost liquid.

   "Of course that might not count either, since I find that very
attractive.  I was thinking of what that might ..." His hands began to move
forward, splaying out over her abdomen to cup and squeeze that extra flesh
ever so lightly.  "feel like in my hands," he finished.  "And I was
expecting it to feel very good.  I like it.  It makes you a real woman, not
some phony who works out six hours a day."

   Her hands came up and covered his, as she leaned back into him.

   "You don't play fair," she breathed.  "You don't play fair at all."

   "Do I get my reward?" he asked, his hands beginning to slide upward.  It
was obvious where they were heading, and she sucked in her stomach as her
upper lungs filled.  To her dismay that just made her breasts push out in
front of her even more.

   "Please?" he asked.

   The edges of his fingers were touching the bottom of her breasts now,
and his thumbs had come up to press lightly against the bra where it went
under her arm.

   "I can't let you do that," she moaned.  "This is our first date!"

   "It's just a teensy little reward," he breathed into her ear.  "Just
this once.  Didn't I do what I was supposed to?  You're studying to be a
teacher.  Aren't you supposed to give me a gold star?"

   The fact that he had stopped his hands ...  had not forced them upon her
...  made Marian actually feel like she had almost complete control.  Had
he pushed her, she would have pulled away and left.  But the control he
exhibited made her feel safe, even though he was pressed up against her,
and his hands were on her.

   "You're asking for TWO gold stars," she murmured.

   "I admit I am a little greedy," he said.

   His openness, even to criticizing her without fear, was almost puzzling.
What kind of man was willing to look at your faults - and the ones he had
mentioned were legitimate faults - and then make it crystal clear that he
wanted you naked and under him?  What kind of woman, for that matter, gave
serious thought to getting naked and under him on their first date?  He was
that man, and she was that woman, at the present, but what did all that
mean?

   "I need to ask you a question," she said, breathing deeply.  His hands
hadn't moved.

   "I just answered a question," he said.

   "Please?" she asked.

   "OK."

   She turned to face him, raising her arms to go over his, and his hands
stayed where they were, ending up on her back.

   "How many women have you done this with since you got your divorce?"

   "Do you mean how many women have I taken on a date?  Or how many women
have I tried to fondle on the first date?  Or how many women have I lusted
after shamelessly and almost in public?"

   "Yes," she said.  "How many?"

   He looked up and mumbled.  She heard him say "carry the two" as if he
were adding large numbers.  Finally he looked into her eyes and said "One."

   "Oh," she said, feeling let down somehow.  "Who was she?"

   "She's you, silly," he said, not smiling.

   "Honestly?" She was thunderstruck.  "You haven't gone out with anyone
since your divorce?"

   He brought a hand to hit himself in the forehead with, and then put it
back.

   "OK, there were a couple of girls.  They kind of came on to me in class.
I did take each of them out on a date, but nothing happened.  Young women
these days are so plastic, or something.  I don't know what it is, but they
don't seem like real people.  Did you ever see 'Invasion Of The Body
Snatchers'?"

   She shook her head.

   "Well these aliens came to earth and they took over people's bodies. 
It's like that.  It's like college girls are acting out some role that they
think is supposed to be how they think I want them to act.  There was just
nothing there.  They were cute and all, but all I could think about was how
much work it was going to be just to be around them."

   "You never had sex with them?" she asked.

   "I never even kissed them." he responded.

   "But you feel differently about ...  me?" she asked.

   "Marian, if you left here right now, I wouldn't be able to walk normally
for a week.  People would think I was a cowboy because I'd be walking
bowlegged.  Right now my balls feel about the size of grapefruits because I
think I'm more turned on than I've ever been in my whole life.  I know I
shouldn't feel that way, or say what I just said, but it's the truth.  I
know this is the first time we've spent any time together outside of class,
but I'm not going to lie to you.  You're the first real woman I've met in I
don't know when, and that just makes me so horny I feel like an eleven year
old looking at my first Playboy."

   He never broke their gaze, and she didn't either.  He finally subsided.

   "You Northern men are so bald-faced about this," she said.  "If a
Southern Gentleman ever said anything like that to me I'd slap his face.  I
am therefore, surprised beyond measure, to find that what you said is very
pleasing to me."

   She turned again, raising her arms, until his hands were under her
breasts.

   "You may have two gold stars for being truthful" she whispered.

   Chapter 43

   For Marian, the feel of his hands on her breasts was unlike anything she
had ever experienced.  He cupped them, and squeezed, moving his fingers to
splay across them, holding them like they were some precious egg he was
afraid to break.  Her reaction to his touch, so gentle, and yet so
insistent, was lessened only by the fact that his erection pressing into
her buttocks made her think of the last time Harvey had touched her there.
There had been no pleasure in that for her, and more pain than she had
thought she would be able to bear.  For that reason alone, she turned
again, to press her breasts against his chest.  She could still feel his
erection, but now it was something exciting, reminding her insistently that
she was, in fact, desirable.  Her hands rested on the front of his
shoulders.

   "Are you going to try to kiss me now?" she asked softly.

   He didn't ask.  He just kissed.  His kiss, like his touch, was soft, but
insistent.  She was surprised to feel his tongue pressing against her lips,
in a way she had never kissed before.  Her surprise made her lips open,
and, rather than being disgusted, she was delighted at the amazingly
intimate feel.  Tentatively she let her own tongue touch his, and suddenly
she couldn't breathe.  Her hands pushed at his shoulders gently, and he
stopped kissing her.  Her eyes were still closed, but she opened her mouth
and took in a deep breath.

   "How rude of me," he said.  "I didn't answer your question.  Yes, I'm
going to try to kiss you now."

   The next kiss made something happen to their bodies, which began rubbing
against each other as her hands slid over his shoulders and onto his back.
Marian had the fleeting thought that she was just going to have to throw
this pair of panties away.  Not even laundering would remove what she was
soaking them with right now.  Then she was lost in the kiss again.

   After that kiss, he held her, staring into her eyes.

   "Are we at the point yet where you ravish me?" he asked.  "Because I'm
really, REALLY ready to be ravished."

   "I can't understand any of this," Marian said softly, gazing into his
eyes.  "I'm just not the sort of woman who does these kinds of things with
a man she hardly knows.  I've only kissed one other man besides my late
husband, and that was when I was fifteen."

   "Well, then, I'd have to say your late husband was a pretty good
kisser."

   "My late husband rarely kissed me at all," she said.  "My late husband
was not one who used ...  romance ...  in our relationship."

   "My ex-wife accused me of being homosexual one time, because I prepared
a candle-lit dinner, and bought new sheets for the bed, and arranged
flowers and fixed up the house.  She said a real man wouldn't pussy-foot
around like that, and would take what he wanted." Bob didn't sound pleased
about that.

   "Your ex-wife would have loved my late husband," said Marian.  She
ground her mons against his erection gently.  "Any woman worth her salt
would be able to tell you're no homosexual."

   "I neglected to show you the house," said Bob, suddenly.  "I'm being
awfully rude tonight." He kissed the corner of her lips lightly.  "Of
course, all there is is the kitchen, bathroom and ...  bedroom.

   "I must admit, I wondered what a single man's bedroom might look like,"
she sighed.  "Just from the perspective of how it's decorated, of course."

   "Of course," he agreed, pushing his prick against her just as gently as
she had pressed against him.  "Would you like to see mine?  I'm a single
man, you know."

   Bob was finally beginning to understand the complex and highly
sophisticated psyche of this fascinating woman.  Her culture demanded that
certain proprieties be observed, at least in terms of being given lip
service.  At the same time, she was willing to actually DO things that
she'd never admit to doing.  She wasn't teasing, exactly, though there was
a bit of that in there.  Instead she was arriving at an unspoken consensus
with him about what to do.  "Are you going to try to kiss me?" had actually
meant "I want you to kiss me, please." He had never played this complicated
game, almost a sexual dance, but it was fun, and there were all sorts of
possibilities that would otherwise have not been possible.

   He already had an idea for his next gambit.

   He took her hand and led her to the bedroom, where he began to show it
to her in detail.  She had mentioned decoration, and he honored that, by
talking about his choice of colors, and where the furniture came from, and
why it was arranged the way it was.

   "I've tried very hard to make into the room where I want to be all the
time," he said.  "But something has always been missing."

   "What's that?" she asked, still holding his hand.

   "Would you be willing to try a little experiment in decorating with me?"
he asked.

   "Perhaps," she said.

   "Could I get you to lie artfully on the bed?" he suggested.  "Fully
clothed, of course."

   "Of course," she agreed.

   She crawled on the bed, being modest with her skirt, and he played at
arranging her on it, putting a pillow here, propping her up there.  Then he
stood back and looked.

   "It's close," he said, his chin in his hand.  "It's much better, but
it's still not quite there."

   "What do you think would help?" she asked.

   "Well, you know, in all those fancy magazines, the girl on the bed
usually has on only her underthings."

   "You want me to take off everything but my underthings?" she asked, one
eyebrow arched.

   "Just for the sake of experiment, of course," he said.

   "Of course," she agreed, smiling gently.

   She got off the bed gracefully, and stood, facing away from him.  With
practiced fingers, she unbuttoned her blouse.  She let it fall down her
shoulders, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder at him like a vamp.
She pushed down her skirt, and stepped out of it.  She felt foolish wearing
shoes, so she stepped out of them too, leaving her clad only in bra,
panties, and matching hose, held up by the garter belt.  She had never
dressed this way for Harvey.  No man alive had ever seen her dressed like
this.  She was suddenly glad her panties were black, and hoped they weren't
dripping.

   She turned around, resisting the urge to cover her breasts.  She knew
the bra was almost, if not completely transparent, and that her
honey-colored pubic hairs were light enough to show through the filmy black
panties, and yet, she felt completely clothed somehow.

   "Like this?" she almost whispered.

   The look on his face, one of raw hunger, was not communicated in his
voice.

   "Yes, I think that's more like what's in the magazines."

   "And you want me ...  on the bed?" Now the double entendre was all hers,
and he sucked in breath.

   "Ahhh ...  yes ...  please."

   She crawled back onto the bed, and settled herself back against the pile
of pillows, draping her arms over them.  Then she didn't know what to do
with her legs.  Just straight out seemed to stiff.  She couldn't spread
them.  She finally decided to turn her hips sideways, and bend the knees,
keeping her legs together.  She looked at Bob.  She almost giggled as she
saw that the front of his pants was tented almost obscenely.  She had never
felt so powerful, or so in control of a man in her entire life.

   "Is this better?"

   "Oh yes," he sighed.  "The room looks so much better than before." He
tilted his head, and held up his hands, with his thumbs touching and his
forefingers straight up, making a U shape and looking through it, like a
movie director.

   "It's very close now to what I had in mind.  It's not perfect, but very
close."

   "What seems to be the problem now?" she asked.  She stretched, as if she
was tired, and thrust her breasts out.  She felt like a slut, but not the
same kind of slut she'd felt like with Harvey.  This was a clean, sweet
slut, who just wanted to have fun, and didn't care whether it was naughty
to have that fun.

   "I'm not sure," he said, stepping closer.  "It may be that the black
you're wearing is clashing with the tan sheets, and the brown in the wood
of the headboard.

   "I thought black went with everything," she said.

   "Usually, yes.  But in this case, the two browns compliment each other.
Your skin tones are perfect, as it your hair color, but the black seems
jarring somehow."

   "And if I didn't have all this black on ...  it might look perfect?"

   "I'm convinced of it," he said, holding his breath.

   "Well, if you're convinced of it already, then I suppose the problem is
solved," she said brightly.  "All you have to do is find a woman with my
skin tones, and my hair color, without black underthings on, and your room
will look just the way you want it to."

   She almost laughed at the pained and disappointed look on his face.  He
did not give up, though.

   "Well, right now it's just a theory.  I really think we need to create
the actual look ...  you know ...  just so we'll know for sure."

   "You want me to take off these black underthings?" she asked, her voice
sounding surprised.

   "Ohhhh pleeease," he begged.  Then he wiped his face clear.  "I mean
yes, just to make sure.  Just as an experiment, of course."

   "Of course," she agreed.

   Part of Marian's mind could not believe what she was doing.  But the
rest of her mind was having so much fun being a vamp like this, that she
threw caution to the winds.  She knew quite clearly that if she got naked
in front of this man, that important, serious, and very intimate things
would follow.  It wasn't that she urgently wanted them to happen - not on a
conscious level, anyway.  She had no idea what it would be like.  She might
hate it afterwards.  On the other hand, she might not.  She knew she wanted
SOMETHING to happen.  This was just too much fun to stop now.

   She sat up, reached between the cups of the bra, and undid the front
catch.  She liked this front catch idea.  It made things so much more
graceful.  Knowing that if she waited she might chicken out, she shrugged
the bra straps off her shoulders, and pulled one arm out of them.  She had
no idea that would make her breasts jump and jiggle deliciously when she
did it.  She heard Bob's gasp, and simply thought he was amazed that she'd
actually done it.  She lay back against the pillows again.  She felt her
nipples tighten and crinkle and looked down to see them erect, standing
away from her breast flesh like little soldiers at attention.

   "Is this better?" she asked.

   "Oh yes!" he said immediately.  "Much better ...  but there's still some
black."

   "If this looks better already, I don't want to move and disturb the
pose. Would you consider assisting me?" she asked.

   "Nothing would please me more," he panted.

   He moved to the bed as she straightened her legs.  He tentatively
grasped the straps of the panties, where they went over her hips, and she
lifted her buttocks to let him pull them down.  They stuck to her pussy. 
She had to spread her legs, and he pulled them wetly away.  His hands slid
them down her legs as she lifted them and bent her knees, and then moved
immediately to the tops of her hose, which he freed from the garter belt.
He rolled each one down, until it was a ball on her toes and dropped each
one on the floor.  The closure for the garter belt was in the back, and she
rolled, cringing a little as she presented her buttocks to him.  His
fingers worked the catch, and then slid gently up her spine to her hair.

   He stepped back, and stared at her as she rolled back into position,
completely naked.  Again she was amazed at his self control.

   He said "Perfect," softly.  "If my room were always like this, I'd never
want to leave."

   "It looks pretty good from here too," she said.  "Except the you
standing there looks a little awkward.  And this bed is much too big for
just one person to be on, don't you think?"

   "Oh, well of course it's designed for two persons," he agreed.  "And if
I were in my room all the time, I'd spend a lot of time there."

   "Well I just don't see how you can say it's perfect if the bed is too
big, and you're standing there where you won't be.  And it also looks silly
for me to be naked, and you to have all your clothes on.  Any fifth grader
would tell you that.  Either I need to find something to put on that goes
with the sheets and the headboard, or you need to take your clothes off and
get on the bed too."

   He smiled.  "You are right, of course.  I'm afraid I have nothing else
for you to wear.  Perhaps we might find something suitable at some future
date.  For now, it's only fair that I take my clothes off too.  I should
have thought of that."

   "Yes, you should have," said Marian.

   He was as unashamed about it as she had been, but didn't tease her.  He
simply dropped his clothing and then stood to let her see what she did to
him.  She had only seen one penis in her life that was stiff like this. 
Harvey had not been circumcised.  Bob was.  It gave his penis an entirely
different appearance, with highs and lows and shape to it.  It looked like
a club.

   "I thought you said you didn't have a club," she said.

   He looked confused for a second, and then remembered their conversation
about the cave man.

   "This one is for decoration only.  Actually, it's for you to use, and
not me."

   "Oh," she said, moving over.  "I suppose that's all right then."

   She knew, as his weight came onto the bed, that the game was over. 
Somehow he knew that too.  He embraced her, as she rolled to face him.  His
tongue was insistent now, and his hands smoothed all over her back and
buttocks.  It was almost like a massage.  She rolled back to let him get to
her breasts, and shivered as he fondled them.  He didn't hesitate, and ran
his hand straight down her belly and between her legs, pressing and
rubbing. They had spent fully twenty minutes teasing each other without
touching, drawing the seduction out, but once he was against her she wanted
him immediately.  She no longer cared that she was acting like a slut.  He
was gentle and caring, and she desperately wanted to know what it felt like
to be made love to by a gentle and caring man.

   One result was that it was difficult to separate out what felt the best.
At the same time his lips sucked at her nipples, his fingers rubbed and
pulled at her clit.  As he rolled on top of her, his skin felt smooth and
soft at the same time his tongue felt slippery and hot in her mouth.  As
she spread her legs and he eased himself into her, his mouth went to her
nipples again and she thought she'd faint from the joy of her whole body
feeling wonderful all at the same time.

   He didn't pound her like Harvey had.  He didn't thrust rapidly, reaching
for his own release while forgetting hers.  Sometimes he stopped moving
altogether, holding himself deep inside her and crushing her clit.  He
rolled them over and pushed her up to sit, impaled upon him, another new
thing she'd never thought of before.  It put her in complete control, and
she had her first orgasm that way.  She was sad, lying down on him because
it was over so soon.  She'd never had more than one orgasm with Harvey, and
quite often she didn't even get one.

   She was therefore astounded when his hands on her buttocks moved her on
him, bringing back the thrill of anticipation.  She sat back up, her eyes
wide, and began to move on him again.  He played with her breasts, lifting
them, pulling gently at them, squeezing the nipples lightly, as she let
another orgasm flow through her astonished body.  She felt like a queen as
his adoring eyes drank in her naked form, and felt no shame at all.

   Then he rolled her over and, after twenty or thirty more languid
strokes, he gave her his seed.  He didn't ask, and she didn't care.

   Harvey had been fucking her for years, whenever he felt the need, or
whenever she did.  She had stopped worrying about getting pregnant when she
simply didn't any more.  She knew there was some change that came over
women when they got older, and just assumed that had happened to her, even
though she still bled each month.  Her knowledge of "the change" was very
sketchy.  It wasn't talked about by women in those days, at least not
between women of her age.  She had no way of knowing she was much too young
for menopause to rob her of fertility.  She had no way of knowing that
Harvey's weight, the whiskey he drank, and the tight banded underwear he
had used to hold his expanding gut in had sapped the virility of the few
sperm cells his balls produced.

   She also had no way of knowing that Bob suffered from none of these
maladies, and that when HE flushed her full of sperm, they were quite
viable and imminently capable of penetrating the eggs she was still
dropping monthly.

   All she cared about at that moment, was that she had been made love to,
by a man who found her attractive, and who liked her in spite of her flaws
...  a man who treated her like a lady.  That she liked this man was just
frosting on the cake.

   ***************************

   She did stay the night, unable to resist cuddling in warm comfort and
sleeping with this man who had made her feel really alive for the first
time in years.  When he rolled against her in the night, she welcomed his
hands, and his lovely orgasm-producing penis, as it again bathed her womb
in hot seed.  The only thing that drove her out of his bed in the morning
was his job, and her need to appear at the farm before policemen everywhere
started looking for her.

   His request to see her again was met with a "Yes!" before he even
finished asking the question.

   =========

   When Marian parked the station wagon, and got out, she knew she looked a
mess, and felt like she should be dragging her feet.  There had been much
less sleep the night before than she was used to.  He had wakened her
twice, in the darkness.  She knew her that between her legs, where there
were no longer any panties, she was still slick with his spend.  But she
somehow had the energy of a teenager again as she almost skipped into the
house.  Nathan was sitting at the table, still in his uniform, reading a
paper and drinking a cup of coffee.  The remains of breakfast had been
pushed off to one side.

   He glanced up at her, and she saw a tiny smile start to form at the
corners of his lips.  That tiny smile, even though he obviously stopped it
from maturing, sent the thrill of acceptance through her again.

   "Good morning, Darling," she said, as if she was simply returning from
the market.

   "Morning, Mamma," he said.  "Guess you had a good time, huh?"

   "I'm a grown woman," she said, challenging him before he challenged her.

   "You are," he said simply.

   "Yes, I am," she said, not knowing what to do when he didn't challenge
her back.

   He stood, leaving the rest of his coffee.  "Guess I'll hit the sack.  It
was a long night.  I'm glad you had a good time.  We all are."

   She was overwhelmed at the acceptance he offered, without speaking a
word of it.  She didn't actually think about the fact that he might have
learned that from her, when she accepted his relationship with Flossie, or
that he might be having just as much trouble performing that act of
acceptance.  She just let the feeling of freedom flow through her body and
mind.  She went to him and hugged him.

   "Thank you," she said softly into his chest.

   "You're welcome, Mamma," he said, squeezing her briefly.  "I think I'll
sleep first, and shower later," he said as she heard him sniff.  "That will
leave the bathroom open for you."

   She blushed, realizing she must smell like a whore house.  His oblique
comment on that, though, so much like the oblique way she had let Bob
seduce her last night, didn't feel threatening.

   "I'll just get freshened up and go help the girls," she said, assuming
they were already out in the orchard.  She hadn't seen them in the garden.

   ***************************

   Her daughters were nowhere near as easy-going about her night away from
home as her son had been.  They were, to their minds, properly scandalized,
and completely disregarded her former acceptance of their own scandalizing
behavior.  On the other hand, once they had chastised her for her obviously
loose behavior on her first date, they then demanded that she tell them all
the details.

   "Did he like the things I picked out for you?" asked Hilda Mae, her face
flushed.  The only "things" Hilda Mae had picked out were her
undergarments. Bernadette had helped her choose the rest of her outfit.

   "He liked them so well he kept part of the ...  ensemble," Marian said,
feeling completely and gloriously thrilled with the ease she felt talking
about something so intimate.

   Hilda Mae squealed and pushed her sister.  "I TOLD you it was perfect
for her!" she said, obviously winning an argument.  She turned back to her
mother.  "When are you going to see him again?" she asked excitedly.

   "Who says I am?" asked Marian, hiding her smile by turning away.

   "Mamma!" yelped her younger daughter.  "You can't just go off and spend
the night with a man ...  ESPECIALLY on your first date ...  and then just
act like it didn't happen!"

   "And you know this because of your own extensive ...  dating
experience?" said Marian, bending over to pick up a shovel.

   "I had dates," said her daughter, sounding wounded.  "We just didn't
KNOW they were dates, at the time!"

   "You ARE going to see him again ...  aren't you?" asked Bernadette,
sounding worried.

   "You just all but called me a tramp, and you want me to keep acting that
way?" asked Marian, standing up.

   "We want you to be happy," said Bernadette, also sounding defensive.

   "I'm very happy," said Marian.  "I'm exceedingly happy, and yes, I'm
going to see him again."

   Then it subsided into a hundred questions, about where they went, and
what they did, and what they saw, and before she knew it, Marian was
divulging very intimate details about the whole night.  At one point she
couldn't believe she was talking with her daughters about what it was like
for a strange man to see her naked.

   "Oh, we know all about that," said Hilda Mae in a matter-of-fact voice.

   That was when Marian learned about the skinny-dipping, and the fact that
all the men on the farm had seen her daughters naked for hours on end.  She
couldn't help but wish she'd known that when she walked in on Johnnie Sue
and her blood brothers.  It suddenly made a lot of things a lot more clear.

   It also made her feel a lot better about what she had been doing.  She
was quite aware that she had done things at an unbelievably rapid pace, but
she had never felt as alive, or as giddy, or as happy or a dozen other
emotions, as she did when she was with Bob.  It just felt right somehow.

   And her daughters' more or less calm acceptance of her decisions meant
as much to her, as hers had to them.

   ***************************

   Marian did see Bob again.  And again and again and again, until she felt
like she'd known him all her life.  Still, she always met him in the city.
While he seemed unbiased about most things, she still wasn't comfortable
with him meeting the mixture of races that populated the place where she
lived.

   He never pushed that.  She talked about her children, even a little
about their spouses, but that was all it was - talk.  He sent her flowers,
and took her to dinner, and a time came when she was lying beside him, her
hand wrapped around his stiff penis.

   It was a Saturday morning after a Friday on which he'd had an evening
adult education class, and they hadn't been able to go out.  She could only
stay until noon, because, for once, all the men were off work on the same
day, and a party was planned that afternoon.

   She had awakened Bob by letting herself in with the key he'd given her,
stripping naked, and crawling into his bed.  They hadn't made love yet. 
They both loved to drag it out, almost like that first night, teasing each
other until they were panting with desire.  This morning, for whatever
reason, Marian thought again about that time she had walked in on Johnnie
Sue, and seeing her pale nose pressed against Jesse's dark loins.

   She looked at Bob, who was just lying there enjoying what she was doing
to him.

   "Can I ask you a question?  A personal question?" she asked.

   Bob lifted his head and stared at her hand, slowly stroking him.  "I
think we're comfortable enough to ask each other personal things." He
grinned as she squeezed him.

   "Have you ever heard of a woman using her mouth to love a man?" She
blushed, afraid that she was speaking perversion.

   "Yes," he said simply.  "I didn't think that was something you'd be
comfortable ...  talking about."

   "Do you think that's ...  perverted?" she asked.

   "I don't think anything is perverted if both people consent to it," he
replied.

   "If I wanted to ...  If I thought about that ...  you wouldn't think I
was perverted?"

   "If I wanted to do the same thing to you would you think it was
perverted?" he asked.

   It had never occurred to Marian that it could work both ways.

   "Um ...  well ...  I guess my first answer would be yes," she said,
feeling confused.  "But I think that's because I never heard of that
before."

   "Well," he said calmly.  "Perhaps we should experiment a little, and
then we could make up our minds." He smiled.  "So far, experimentation has
led us to some very nice things."

   ***************************

   An hour later, when Marian felt like she could barely scrape up the
energy to just breathe, Bob flopped down beside her.

   "Well," he panted.  "Do you feel perverted?" He didn't let her answer.
"You can, if you want, but I don't."

   Her hand went and flopped on his stomach.

   "How unhappy would you be if I told you I might be falling in love with
you?" she asked.

   "That, my dear, is just hormones talking.  My father told me never to
tell a woman I loved her while I was making love TO her.  He said it's bad
form, and causes people to make decisions when they aren't clear headed."

   "We're not making love any more," she said.

   "Oh yes we are," he countered, rolling over, half on top of her and
reaching for a breast.

   She stopped him.  "If this is all just for fun ...  I think I can live
with that.  That's not how I'm built ...  at least I don't think I'm built
that way, but I can live with it.  I do need to know, though, if that's all
this is."

   He frowned.  "There are things you don't know about me ...  things I
haven't felt like would matter so far.  But if you're getting serious about
this - and I feel pretty serious too - then that changes things, and I have
to come clean with you."

   "Come clean with me about what?" asked Marian.  She knew he was
divorced, and had no children.  She knew there were no other women in his
life.  If there were, they had been seriously neglected recently and
weren't happy at all.  What else could there be?

   "Well," he said uncomfortably.  "You remember I said my Great Great
whatever Grandfather fought in the war?"

   "The Yankee?" she asked.

   "Yes."

   "What about him?  That was ages ago.  I know there are still strong
feelings about that, but not with me.  That's ancient history." Marian was
still puzzled.

   "Well, he was a member of the 54th Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers.
He was an officer, and he was killed in the battle of Fort Wagner, in South
Carolina, in 1863."

   "All right," she said patiently.  "If he had to be a Yankee, at least he
was an officer.  I can forgive that."

   "He was also ...  um ...  a Negro."

   Marian blinked.  Her assumptions about his heritage made her speak
before she could actually process the information he had just given her. 
"I thought you were Greek or Spanish!"

   "No," he said uncomfortably.  "Things got kind of mixed up way back
when. He was the only colored member of our family.  I've always passed for
white since I left Massachusetts, because all I got from him, apparently,
was a little darkness to my skin."

   "And the eyes," thought Marian to herself.  "His beautiful, dark eyes."

   Then it hit her.  This man ...  this man with whom she was lying ... 
who had made love to her a dozen times ...  who she was falling in love
with ...  who was everything that Harvey had not been ...  had colored
blood running through his veins.  She had made love with a colored man ...
a mulatto, just like her grandbabies.

   It was the overwhelming irony of the situation that saved her, because
her proper Southern mind had not, despite the strides she had made, emptied
itself of bigotry.  She had made exceptions in her mind for Flossie, Curtis
Lee, and Moses, and even Jesse.  They had to be ...  different somehow ...
which made it all right.  But her mind rebelled at the thought that,
regardless of how diluted his blood was, Bob was black.  Her eyes, and the
irony of it all, told that part of her mind to shut up ...  that it was too
late anyway ...  that this didn't matter either, except that it was a good
thing Harvey was dead and buried.  The thought of Harvey, spinning in his
grave was what brought out the first unstoppable giggle.

   Then the thought that she had been thinking up reason after reason NOT
to introduce her family to this man made it even worse, and she started
laughing.  Her laughter was so hard that she rolled, trying to sit up, and
just kept rolling when she couldn't.  She landed hard on her hip when she
hit the floor and kept trying to get to her hands and knees, while belly
laughs robbed her body of the ability to function.  She saw Bob's dusky
face peering down at her from the bed, alarm in those beautiful dark eyes,
and it made her laugh even harder, until she couldn't breathe and thought
she would pass out.  When she was able to get to her knees, finally, her
hands on the bed by Bob, her stomach hurt from laughing.  Gasping for air,
she looked down to see that the muscles of her abdomen, while tensing over
and over, had forced a thick stream of semen out of her pussy.  It was
running down her inner thigh.  She almost started laughing again.  It was
so white ...  so pure looking.  Shouldn't it be brown, like him?

   He let her catch her breath.  She kept staring down, and he looked,
seeing what she was staring at.

   "I'm sorry," he said softly.  "I should have told you sooner.  I should
have told you that first night.  I guess I thought you'd never find out,
because you'd get bored with me eventually."

   She looked up then, a silly grin on her face.

   "How would you like to go to a party?" He looked confused, and she stood
up.  "Get dressed," she said firmly.  "It's time for you to meet my
children."

   Chapter 44

   She didn't call ahead.  She knew they'd all be there, Johnnie Sue, Moses
and Luthor included.  That wouldn't add much shock to what she was going to
expose him to and she also wanted to make sure there were no surprises down
the line that might throw a wrench in the works.

   She also didn't tell him what was about to happen.  That he was curious
about this sudden impulse of hers to take him to her home, was obvious. 
But patience with this woman had yielded almost unimaginable happiness, so
he bit his tongue and just rode.  This time they were in her dusty old
station wagon.

   For those reasons, the populace of Whitworth Farm were as unprepared for
him as he was for them.  When Marian walked him between the houses, and
into the courtyard, there was already the smell of cooking meat on the
outdoor grill.  Nathan, Luthor and Curtis Lee were tossing a football back
and forth.  Jesse sat with Luthor's baby on his lap, rocking him on his
knees, while Johnnie Sue nursed Jesse's baby.  The bassinets had been lined
up outside in the shade, and Flossie, Bernadette and Hilda Mae were setting
a table.  It already had a big covered bowl of potato salad on it, and a
pot full of corn-on-the-cob, the lid on, keeping it warm.

   Flossie looked up in surprise that a man was with Marian.

   "There you are!" she said.  "We were beginning to think you'd be late."

   Marian smiled.  "I've brought someone for you to meet."

   It took a few minutes to get them all in one general place, during which
Bob looked around curiously.  Nathan, and his brothers in law enforcement,
displayed an almost disturbing reaction.  They looked Bob over like he was
going to get a pass of fail grade, and that was before they even knew who
he was.

   "Everyone ...  this is Bob." said Marian simply.

   "You're joking!" Flossie's breath exploded with the two words.

   Marian arched an eyebrow.  "And why would I be joking?" she asked.

   "Because he's color..." Flossie stopped.  She looked at Bob, then at
Marian, then at Curtis Lee, who was peering at Bob closely.  "He's so
different than you described him," Flossie amended her comment.

   Bob had a goofy look on his face, like he was very confused, and Marian
just let him have it.

   "Bob, this is Flossie, my daughter-in-law.  She's married to Nathan
there, and their children are Nathan Junior, here, and that's Abraham over
there." She didn't give him a chance to comment.  "And then we have
Bernadette and Hilda Mae, my daughters, who are married to Curtis Lee, over
there, and Moses, respectively.  Bernadette's daughters are over there
together, Juliet and Elizabeth.  Hilda Mae and Moses only have one child,
so far, Elijah, who is right next to Elizabeth."

   She turned to Johnnie Sue, who was still holding Jeremiah, who was still
suckling.

   "That's Johnnie Sue.  She's sort of an adopted daughter, close friends
with my children.  She's holding Jeremiah, who is Jesse's baby.  He's
standing next to her, but he's holding Thomas, the baby she had with
Luthor, who is standing over there by Nathan.  Their relationship is
complicated.  We can talk about that later if you like."

   Bob's mouth opened and closed several times.

   "It will take you a little time to remember all the names," said Marian,
waving a hand negligently.  "But maybe you can get started on that during
lunch."

   Bob turned to her, his eyes still wide.  "You're a very interesting
woman, Marian."

   "I hoped you'd think so," she said.  "But I swear to you I didn't know
what you told me this morning.  Not until you told me."

   ************************

   Nathan took Bob's elbow, and he and Curtis Lee showed him around the
place.  Flossie dragged Marian into a corner.

   "You know he's colored, don't you?" she whispered.

   "Not until he told me this morning.  How did YOU know?"

   "It's obvious!" said Flossie.  "I knew, the minute I saw him that he was
one of ...  us."

   "Well I didn't.  When I told him I was falling in love with him, he
confessed.  I thought he was going to cry.  I think he expected me to curse
at him and throw things.  I just brought him here instead."

   "What are the chances this could happen?" asked Flossie, amazed.

   "I can't do that kind of math," said Marian.  "You're the teacher.  You
tell me."

   ************************

   It was a good party.  Once everyone got used to Bob, and he to them,
they welcomed him with open arms.  On the way to take him back home he was
quiet at first.

   "You remember the question you asked me before you brought me over
here?" he asked.

   "Yes," she said simply.

   "Well, I can say honestly, now, that my answer is that it doesn't bother
me at all."

   ************************

   Marian told him the story of how things had happened, over the next
week, as she saw him, both at his house and in her newly-finished bungalow.
He thought it would make a great book.  He said that knowing she could use
new eyes to look at things, helped him feel like she might be able to use
those same new eyes when he did something stupid.

   "I have an announcement," he said, when he arrived to pick her up to
take her out for dinner one night.  "I need to make it before I get you
where I want you later."

   "Oh?" she asked.

   "I'm falling in love with you too," he said.  "Or I fell in love with
you.  I mean I love you." He looked confused.  "I had to tell you that
before I was making love to you.  It's a rule, you know."

   He was joking, but she didn't smile.

   "I have an announcement too," she said softly.  "I missed a period four
days ago."

   She said it clearly, and he heard her clearly as well.

   His face went through a rapid transformation, that started with raised
eyebrows, and then flickered, almost like suspended animation.  At one
point teeth showed, and at another there was a frown.  There were also
tightly closed eyes, and wide open ones.  His mouth was open and then
closed.  He didn't stand still while his face morphed from one look to
another.  His feet moved, and he did almost an Indian dance as he turned in
a circle and ended up with his arms in the air, his hands reaching toward
the sky.  Then he brought his elbows back to his sides with a snap, both
hands in a fist.

   "I'm going to be a Daddy?" he gasped.

   "If you want to," she said carefully.

   "What do you mean if I want to?" he asked, his voice cracking.  "I've
wanted to be a Daddy for twenty YEARS!" He blinked.  "You HAVE to marry
me!"

   "I most certainly do NOT have to marry you!" she said sharply.

   "What?" He stopped and looked troubled.

   "I'm a forty year old woman," she said.  "I don't HAVE to do anything."

   "But Marian ..." his eyes took on panic.  "It's MY baby ...  isn't it?"

   "It's OUR baby, Bob," she said.

   "OK, OK, but you know what I mean, right?  You can't keep me away from
him.  Please?  I have to be part of his life.  I couldn't stand it if I
knew I had a son and I didn't get to see him and help raise him.  Please,
I'm begging you.  I love you, and didn't you say you were falling in love
with me?  Why wouldn't you marry me?"

   "You haven't asked me to marry you," said Marian.

   "Huh?  Of course I did!" he yelped.

   "No, you said I HAD to marry you.  You didn't ask me ...  you TOLD me."

   He looked exasperated.  "But ...  you're pregnant."

   Marian took his hands.  "I was told to marry Harvey.  I did, and I was a
faithful wife, but I wasn't happy.  I didn't know it then, but I do now.  I
don't want to start another marriage like that."

   "Do you WANT to marry me?" he asked.

   "You have to ask me to marry you to find out," she said.

   "Now you're telling me what I have to do," he said, smiling.  He got a
crafty look on his face.  "If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?"

   "I'd give you the answer that is in my heart," she said, not to be
outdone.

   He liked to play the games they played, but this was too important to
leave to ...  play.  He dropped to one knee, feeling slightly foolish.

   "Marian Wilson, I love you.  You're going to have my baby ...  our baby
...  and I want to be in your life and in his life.  I want to grow old
with you.  Will you please marry me?"

   "It might be a girl," said Marian, trying not to smile.

   "You didn't answer my question," he said.  "Please, tell me what's in
your heart."

   "Yes," was all she said.

   He smiled with obvious relief.  "Of course, you understand that I can
only marry a good girl.  That means you have to be in bed by ten." He
looked at his watch.

   "Haven't you already done enough damage?" she whined theatrically.

   "I have my standards," he said, folding his arms.

   "Well, then," she said calmly.  "I'd better find a bed right now, then.
I've always tried to be a good girl.  We can eat later."

   They were standing in the door of her bungalow, so finding a bed wasn't
all that difficult.

   ************************

   Since Marian had missed the weddings of her daughters, which had not
included vows of any kind, she invited them to get re-married with her.

   The wedding was held in the orchard, under a tent, because they couldn't
find a church that would go along with one mixed marriage, let alone three.
The minister of the Ebenezer Baptist Church, oddly enough, was sympathetic
to their cause, and performed the triple wedding, even though it couldn't
be done in his church.  He mentioned that, if he had done this back home,
he probably would have been lynched, and that he felt extremely privileged
to be able to help these three couples.

   Seven months later, Marian, attended by her two daughters, went through
labor, and smiled as they lay a little brown boy, with kinky black hair, on
her bosom.

   ===============

   Flossie hummed, baking a cake to welcome home the new arrival.  She
reflected on the strange way things had played out in her life.  She'd just
tried to live life the best she could.  She hadn't set out to ruin
everything that Harvey Wilson stood for and believed.  His hate, had things
gone as he intended, would have been passed on to his offspring, and he
would have dominated his wife to her dying day.

   Sometimes, though, fate or some other power strokes the fabric of our
lives with fingers that change everything.

   Because of that, the revenge Flossie had never set out to accomplish,
was now complete.

   THE END






   
