August Moone
Timing is Everything
Chapter Four
Roundabout Surprises


	Thoughtfully he tugged on his chin, rubbed his aching-aching (but well satisfied) schlong.  Amanda was asleep up against Debra, Carol was awake, contemplating her fate.  Drops of rain water dripped in through the open vent topside, a cool swath of fresh air drifted in; it felt good to be under the wool blanket.  He stifled a yawn but farted loudly.  A nice stretch and he felt better.  The air was a little soiled but quickly refreshened by mother nature.
	Carol looked to her Tormentor.  August offered a meager smile.  She gulped and pursed her lips.  “What?” he asked of her sensing she was sending him a question of some sort.  She merely shrugged and swallowed a hard lump.
	August rubbed his organ and stifled another yawn.  The rain suddenly quit and he heard only the drip-drip-drip from the trees he had parked under.  They had moved aways out of the city and into a KOA (KampGrounds of America.)  more privacy and such.  He still hadn’t figured what had brought him back to his city.  He knew that it was a Beginning, of sorts, but…
	“I-I have to pee.” murmured Carol.
	August nodded then moved to open the custom side door and peer out.  He had parked with the door opening to the forest.  There were only a few other campers in the expensive park and he doubted anyone was out for a romp in the wet surrounding forest.
	He motioned for the girl, mindful of the Device Item 0110 in the “shut-down” mode.  The preteen was acting on her own, but had been schooled well in the fact that her Tormentor could torment her young body badly without the Device.
	For now she would mind her p’s & q’s.
	Unsecured the girl came August, he helped her out butt bare assed naked to stand next to the fence enclosing the kampground.  “Go ahead.” he told her.  Carol looked somewhat disappointed, she would have naturally preferred a structure of some sort.  She squatted and seconds later began relieving herself.  August stood right before her with his schlong in her face.	“Suck it.” August commanded her.
	The girl reached up and gripped his bone and began sucking while she peed.  His hardness worked inside her young mouth, then outside against her face.  She had finished peeing but August was only beginning.
	The girl lay into the open panel while August “mounted” her from behind, his aching bone slamming up into her backdoor.  Amanda and Debra had awakened at the “freshness” of air coming through the now well opened side door.  Amanda watched as her best friend was once more buggered.  
	Carol gripped the carpet fibers and got rug burns on her chest and face.  Amanda was directed to come forth and position herself for a cunt munch; best friend Carol taking up the cause to munch her friend’s twat.  Debra curled up in the corner she was in more so and watched the absolute horror in absolute disdain.
	August slammed his way along until finally unleashing a tremendous load of spunk.  His eyes fluttered, balls cinched up tight against the girl’s body, cock exploding deep within her anal tract.  He caressed/slapped/spanked her ass during his cock’s “cool down” period, sighed deeply with great relief and pulled free.
	Again he slapped her ass with his schlong and had her move on back into the panel where she belonged.  He wasn’t through with her, Amanda, or Debra--not just yet.
	He smelled campfires and heard voices singing, peeking around the corner of his sweet ride he could just see through the boughs of the pines campers nestled nicely some ways away.  No one was close to him and he plopped down on the sill of the open side door massaging his aching bone.
	“Anyone ELSE need to pee?” August asked.
	No one answered, he looked them over; the girls huddled to one another and August let them be.  For now.  He smiled and then doled out the fast food he had gotten before leaving the city limits.  He made himself comfortable sitting on the floor of the truck, back against the cab seat watching the girls.
	He checked over the Device, over the years since it had been in his possession he had learned every so often a new feature.  It had been awhile since his last “discovery.”  There was still annoyance at the fact that a good deal of the Device’s abilities were too heavily encrypted or “hidden”.  But, those things that the Device DID do--well, that helped make up for the failings.	He still would prefer absolute assurances from the government item; it’s sudden “shut-down” without notice was a pisser.  There had to be a reason.  There had to be a reason for it all.  Somewhere, out there, he felt that there WAS a reason--or at the very least an answer.  Occasionally he considered trekking out the way he had first originally came into “acquiring” the government device.  But there were no assurances that that trek would prove useful.  (his asshole still puckered up tight every now and then at the thought of re-encountering those tunnel creatures…)

				*****

	Tunnel creatures, the pirate ship, Charlie Dugout, the desert, the government installation--all filled his mind.  The Device, too.  When darkness had settled he had ventured out along the road, blisters were quick in coming to his still aching on-fire feet--he had no socks on and so the military style boots were causing some problems.  The camouflaged uniform was a size or two too big and scratching, he had no proper underclothing, and his mind was abso-tively confused.
	None of this shit made sense.
	He had watched a lot of science fiction and fantasy crap in his time, but couldn’t recall anything like this.  He guessed what his problem was was trying in his mind to separate those sci-fi programs from reality--what was Hollywood shit and what was real!
	His “booty” began to get heavy, he got cold and hungry.  His mind was filled with Charlie and the pirate ship, being sodomized by those strange creatures--none of it made sense.  He recalled Charlie, he recalled Mr. Peter’s.  He recalled burning rubber to beat it up to Mexican Hat to go on some wild assed adventure to secure more of those strange gold coins.
	Maybe--maybe he had wrecked somewhere along the way?  He knew the wrecker had gotten a little squirrely coming down the Pass into Utah, maybe he had wrecked after all--maybe he was still sprawled out on the side of the road or in a hospital somewhere?
	This didn’t sit with him well.  From what he knew about comas and people in dire extreme situations that were dream-like, no one ever reported how very REAL their experience seemed to be.  They talked about “seeing a bright light, meeting Jesus, meeting Satan, old friends & relatives.”  but from August’s perspective--his experience was too real--he could feel everything, sense, smell, and taste.	At length he came up between the hill pass.  The road was still gravely.  Behind him he still could hear the agricultural installation with a blaring horn.  He also noted some vehicle tearing its way up the road.  August quickly ducked in among the boulders alongside the road and the jeep raced by.
	When after the dust had settled August stepped out and checked for safety and then continued onward.  The road flattened out at the top of the pass.  The sky was dark as pitch, no stars.  Which was odd, he knew that once a person was out of the “city” and out into the countryside one could see all the stars he wanted.
	There were none here.
	The air was kind of stale and all was quiet.  An immeasurable amount of spookiness settled within his soul and quickly did he begin moving.
	At length he noted that he was on a decline, the road from the pass had topped the hill pass and was now going down.  Faintly he saw what he took to be lights far away.  He had to rest several times, his legs and feet were in incredible amounts of pain and discomfort.
	With extreme exhaustion plaguing him he had no choice but to chill out along side the road (hidden) in among the rocks and seek some well needed snoozing.
	
	A good rest was interrupted by a sudden shrill voice.  It startled the tired out (and confused) August.  He awoke scrambling to see what had awoke him--only to see a large black bird sitting perched upon a nearby boulder.  Casually August flipped the bird off and the bird flapped off.
	It was morning.  There was no “sun” per se, but it was at least light.  There was no breeze and no discernible temperature--he supposed that it was just moderate.
	Paying some attention to the sky--it wasn’t orange, but not quite “blue”, either--it was like the sun setting with a sky full of wispy clouds.  (or the sun rising.)  He didn’t know if this was significant or what.  He shrugged it off and wished he would have snagged some food and drink while he was pilfering that governmental installation.
	Slowly he began trudging down the road, it leveled out and once more he could see buildings in his distance.  Thick waist high grasses to his left which segued to ankle high and then to just sand.  On his right was desert-scape that emptied into plowed land.
	Plowed land!?
	He got a very creepy feeling.  Shirked it and began increasing his pace.	He couldn’t rightly tell what exactly was supposed to be growing out in the plowed area, he saw no tractor(s), though.  But did see a guard gate, guard tower, and a windmill.
	Part of him tried to rationalize that this was merely “another” governmental installation.  Yeah, that was it--just another agricultural department plot of land!
	He felt elated with that notion and kept to one side of the road, trying to keep concealed as much as possible.  But he was basically out in the open anyways.  He felt pretty good about his notion, regardless--at the “other” installation there hadn’t been any huge towering guard towers.
	Er, at least he didn’t believe so.
	Slowly he advanced, noting how still and quiet everything was.  That unnerved him.  Scanning the area all around he so noted the absolute lack of anyone present.  “Uh-oh.”
	He held his last position of cover before waltzing out into very absolute exposure.  There was no one about.  No one in the guard tower, no one at the guard station, no one in the installation and no one out in the field.  He gulped and licked his lips, tried to settle himself and move on.
	There WAS no one at the guard house, looking into the compound there was no one about at all.  This was not good.  Or was it?  He didn’t know.  It made him nervous, he knew that.  No vehicles about, either.  Nothing but the buildings.  Was there a significance to this?
	He did make note of a building--it seemed all too familiar.  He gulped and made for it, his legs almost buckling as he noted the building’s number G1-R1 Building 1A.
	He remembered it as one before at the other place.
	This wasn’t good.
	Inside there was the water cooler, the desks, the cubicles.  Just no peoples.  The donut box was there with the “missing” donuts he had scarffed down earlier.
	He didn’t know how, or why, or how--but he was back where he had been before.
	But how?
	He prowled around, wondering if ALL governmental installations were the same?  That could be it, yeah--sure!
	Naw
	He sighed, he was back in the same place as he had started from.
	Only now, there was no people, no bitches to scrog!	Once more he raided the lunch room, having no money to acquire he just beat the crap out of the machines until he got what he wanted.  Which was some unappetizing delights.  The sandwiches, cookies, chips, and even the sodas were all kind of--flat.
	Scratching his head he sat down and tried to think.
	The burgeoning other choice-option was naturally to go back to the pirate cove, deal with the tunnel bandits, and swim UP to where he had started.  That was a long ways.  And the propensity of getting lost was highly probable.  But then--this place was no prize--he was getting NO PLACE fast!

	Now it gets weird(er):
	With nothing coming to mind clearly he left the building and returned to the road that led “out”, as before.  If he could find the path he had come in on the first time then he would buck up and certainly make his way back the LONG way through the tunnels and all and get the fuck back home.
	He still wondered if this was a dream.  He didn’t know.  He couldn’t tell.  It was like--how do you know if your guacamole has gone bad?  How could you tell?  He motivated himself onward searching for that place he had come out of through the grass, peering over the grass-dunes to the sea--but noting that he couldn’t actually see the sea--and had to wonder even more so what the fuck that was all about
	He had a bazillion questions with no answers.  When he noted that he was getting closer and closer to the hill pass (as before) and farther from the government land he stopped.  He had gone too far.  He had to back up and search harder, risk going out into the grass and getting his ass lost.
	But he figured that the grass-dune-hills would eventually lead him to the beachhead, he faced the direction and sighed--”Charlie-Charlie-Charlie, what the FUCK have you gotten me into!?”
	“Me sorry laddie, if’in I’d a-told you all that stuff about parallel universes and shit like that, why, you wouldna come, now would ya!?”
	August whirled around and standing there in the middle of the dirt road, still naked, was Charlie Dugout.\
	“CHARLIE!” bellowed August.  He ran to greet the man--and went virtually right thru him.
	August stumbled, caught himself and stared at the naked man.
	He couldn’t rightly see thru the old fart but faintly.
	“I-I-I---”
	“I know, lad, you donna unnnerstand.” spoke Charlie softly.  “Well, quite frankly, lad, neither do I!”
	Together they sat down in the grass, the old man’s eyes were glassy and he stared off quiet often.  He recalled merely finding the cask of ancient well aged rum washed ashore.  It hadn’t been there on his previous visits.
	“How many times have you been here?” August asked.
	“Oh, a few times.” he answered.  He seemed lost and thought and August was just lost.  
	“You, uh, ever “encounter” anyone while on your visits?” August asked sheepishly and wonderingly.
	“Oh, I see you met them!” Charlie jeered and chuckled.  August’s asshole clenched up again and didn’t relish the thought of making a return trip.
	The air was still and quiet.  August munched on some of the grass, it was tasteless.  He recalled how earlier it had actually tasted sweet.
	“Sooooo, where IS this place?” 
	“Don’t rightly know.” then, “Someplace for sure--like I’s said before, a Sometimes Place.” that didn’t make any sense and August was having enough of it.
	Charlie leaned back, hands behind his head and laid out on the grass.  August settled his rage and tried to think clearly.
	“I saw people, they weren’t moving, there’s a place--”
	“Aye, one’s time I came up from the cave and ran smack dab in the middle of an Indian massacre.  Lordy-lordy it was rough.”
	“Indians!?” quipped August, “Here?”
	“Aye, lad, here and plenty pissed off, too!”
	August didn’t know what to believe, think, or --
	“And once I was here, just topped the first hill down there when a big ole twister came up--nearly sucked me off!  I’s dove back into the water damn quick and waited it out!”
	“I’s got to figuring that this ’ere place, likes I said, is a Sometimes Place, it--it moves about and isn’t always the same.”
	“Something like a parallel universe?” it was as good as any statement he could come up with.
	“Yeah, I reckon, I don’t know much about them sort of things,” Charlie continued, “buts like I’s said, this is only a Sometimes Place, sometimes it’s what you know and sometimes it ain’t.  Sometimes it’s as real as you and me, and sometimes its just beyond our comprehension.”
	August licked his lips and tried to conjure up some logic thought to all this.	“Me thinks its something like a transition world.”
	Now what the hell was that?
	“Them pesky crafty Cliff Dwellers knew about it I’m sure.”
	“Cliff Dwellers?  You mean the Anasazi?”
	“Aye, them fellers had a way of escaping’ their enemies.”
	“How?”
	“Don’t rightly know that for sure, but they had a way, creatin’ all them thar doors I’ve found.  In them thar caves of theirs they’ve got them holes in the ground, dead center they be, black as tar pitch and it’s said that was how they moved from place to place not in this place.”
	The old man was rambling again, not making much sense.  As much science fiction and fantasy bullshit he watched, August couldn’t make sense of it regardless.
	“Sooooo, this is a parallel universe of some kind?”
	“Maybe, a transition world more ‘n likely.”
	“What does that mean?”
	“Well sir, a transition between worlds!” he said sitting up and bringing his long leathery arms about his naked knees.
	A transition between worlds.  Hmmmmm
	“Sooooo, why couldn’t I talk to those people, they didn’t see me, they weren’t moving--”
	“You were out of sync, boy.”
	“Now what do you mean?”
	“Well, not quite sure about that, but you were comin’ from one world into theirs, and you just weren’t in sync with the time element.”
	That made sense--sort of.  When Time HAD caught up with him, he had heard the tractor, the peoples’ voices, all of it.
	He still had questions.  A breeze came up and there was a curious whine in August’s ear.  His stomach growled and asshole (still) clench tight.  He smelled an ocean breeze and heard insects buzzing.  Off in the distance he heard what sounded like--a tractor.
	Charlie, though, seemed oblivious to it.  He sat staring outward towards the still yet unseen sea.
	“Soooo, I-I thought you were dead.”
	“Was.” Charlie said, “And still am, I suppose.”
	“Soooo, yer a ghost?”
	Charlie furled his lips, scratched his chin, squinted his eyes and drew in his breath, letting it out slowly.  “I guess.”  then, “I’s remember getting that cask open and having myself a fill.”
	“Then what happened?”
	“Don’t know.”
	“What do you remember AFTER?”
	Charlie was silent for a long time.  The breeze stiffened and he seemed to have all the appearances of sadness.  Then, “Well, son--I saw my life, a sort of repeat of what I had done, and hadn’t done.”
	“The girls I loved, the men I cheated.
	The cars I had, the war I was in, my career in the big leagues, and roaming the desert.  It wasn’t a long life, and not very fulfilling, either.” he stopped at that and looked even more sadder than before.
	“Carpa diem, quam minimum credula prstero.”
	August stared at him with a blank expression. ‘Huh?’
	Charlie smiled and chuckled, “Seize the day, laddy, from the Latin; seize the day, live for the day, never despair.”
	August didn’t know what to say.  What WAS there to say.  He felt somewhat embarrassed, August had thought Charlie was just some old washed up ballplayer turned washed up (dead) prospector.  Now he was spouting words of wisdom from Latin!
	“If’in you donna wanna spend yer life goin’ back an’ forth ‘ere ye best git on yer way.” Charlie spat.
	August had that inclination, but he, too, wanted to stay--and chat with Charlie.
	“Uh, you coming?” he asked a stupid question.
	“Don’t think so, boy.” Charlie said in a low voice.  “I think’s I’m dead, right?”
	August gulped and nodded his head.
	“This place is gonna change again real soon, you might wind up where you want, in the middle of a desert, in the middle of the dern ocean!”  
	August didn’t like that notion.
	“Me’s I guess I’m gonna just stay put.”
	“I-I could stay with you.”
	“Naw, you better git movin’, go backs the way you come.”
	August stood, gulped and felt nervous.  All around he did note something happening, just what he wasn’t sure--the change?
	“What changes this place?  Why is this place only a sometimes place?”
	“You got more questions than I gots answers, boy!” spouted Charlie.  
	“I-I’m just trying to get a clear picture, that’s all.”	“Taint no damn clear picture, boy!” shouted Charlie.  The naked old man stood and looked kinda pissed off.  “Likes I said, this place is just a sometimes place, it changes cause it wants to, taint no fuckin’ reason for it, not for us humans (alive OR dead) no how.  It just happens.”
	They stood they for a few minutes, noises of the nature and manmade kind began to come louder and more clearer.  The breeze stiffened and the crash of distant waves echoed about them.
	“You best get a move on.” Charlie said in a calmer voice.
	“What’s going to happen to you, Charlie?”
	“I don’t know, August, I don’t know.”
	August didn’t know what to say (or do).  And he noted that it was the first time Charlie had said his name.  He waited a moment, then another before sashaying down the small grassy-dune hill, up the other and down to the beach.  At the top of the second hill looking down to the beach August paused to look back.
	Charlie was still sitting there, he waved and August traipsed on down the hill to the beach.
	