The Hermit of Scarecrow ValleyChapter 2
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Bobby had pulled the pieces of steel roof away from the house, but hadn’t figured out a way to reduce their size, so they could be fit into the back of his pickup and be hauled away. Now the two of them leaned against his truck, tossing ideas at each other of ways to bend the long, twisted sheets of metal in half. Perhaps, then, they could be bent one more time and would then fit.
They were doing that when they heard what sounded like multiple vehicles coming up the road. His rifle was in the truck, and he leaned in to get it, letting it hang loosely from his right hand. There was a round in the chamber, but it wasn’t cocked. He saw Jennifer staring at him.
“Habit,” he said. She nodded.
He relaxed when he saw that Sheriff Beasley’s official SUV was the lead car. He put the rifle back in his truck as the sheriff and five other cars parked along the road. Beasley got out, along with what turned out to be twelve other men. They all straggled up towards where Bobby was standing. The sheriff cast his eyes on Jennifer for a moment, and then spoke.
“I know you like your privacy and all, but these fella’s are all members of the VFW post over in Rapid City. They heard about your situation, and wanted to come out here and lend a hand. I brought them so there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding.
“I’m not a member of the VFW,” said Bobby, looking at the men. They ranged in age from what looked like his age to men who might be in their seventies.
“Don’t care,” said one of the men. “You served your country ... that makes you one of us. We believe in stickin’ together.”
“I’m just cleaning up,” said Bobby. “I don’t even have the new house ordered yet. I have lots of trips to the dump to make first.”
“I own a Bobcat,” said one of the men. “And Charley’s got him an old grain truck that will haul a hell of a lot more trash than that pickup will.”
Another man stepped forward. “Name’s Sam Clinton. Master Sergeant, U.S. Army retired. Most of us just sit around all day tellin’ lies. Two of our members live right here in Keystone, but they didn’t know you were a brother. Be nice to have something worth doing to keep us busy for a while. We won’t outstay our welcome. We’re willing to help out if you’ll let us.”
Bobby’s eyes ranged over the men. He recognized one of the men’s field jacket as being Marine issue. Others wore bits and pieces of uniforms that had been out of style for years. One younger man still wore his hair in a high and tight haircut. He stood like some of the men in the hospital Bobby had been in for months. Men who stood like he was standing usually had at least one, if not two prosthetic legs.
“What the hell,” he said. “I guess I could use the help.” He turned toward Jennifer. “This is Jennifer. She’s a neighbor. She’s been a big help to me.”
Several of the men nodded to her, and then, as a group, they gravitated toward the remains of the cabin, to examine them and determine what to do next. The Bobcat man said he’d go get it loaded up on his trailer, and another man said he’d ride along to help. Sam Clinton got on his cell phone, apparently to call others. It was a pretty low-key response, looking at it from the outside. But by the time Sheriff Beasley got his car around all the others and started back toward the blacktop, people were already at work.
Mindy arrived just in time to see a dually pickup truck, pulling a bobcat, turn onto the road leading to Bobby’s place. She followed it up the road, curious, and was then astonished to see the beehive of activity around the remains of the house.
Eight hours later, she and Jennifer left to go get enough pizza to feed twenty hungry men.
Six hours after that, in the headlights of vehicles pointed at the work site, Ralph Henderson loaded his Bobcat back on its trailer, and Steve Phipps got in the grain truck with Charley Moore to help him with the last load of debris going to the landfill. Three other men said they’d follow them.
Bobby trudged tiredly over to Mindy’s car, where Sam and Mindy were working over a piece of paper.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Duty roster,” said Sam. “I’m teaching Mindy how to do one.”
“Duty roster?” Bobby raised his eyebrows.
“For the men to help, once the kit gets here,” said Sam. “They all want to help you build this place.”
“You guys are doing too much,” said Bobby.
“No we’re not,” said Sam. “Which one you gonna get?”
Bobby saw the brochures spread out on the hood of the car. Mindy had been doing a lot more than learning how to make up a duty roster.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Well make up your mind. When you find out when it will be delivered, call Ben Simpson at this number.” He pointed to a number at the top of the improvised duty roster. “We’ll have some boys out here to help unload it all, and get started.”
Bobby felt sudden tears in his eyes. He wasn’t used to feeling this way.
“Thanks for doing this,” he said, quietly.
“Thanks for letting us,” said Sam, shaking his hand. He turned to Mindy. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mindy.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” said Mindy, extending her hand and shaking his firmly.
He turned and went to his car, joining the line of others who were finally leaving. Bobby looked at his watch. It was almost midnight.
“Wow,” he said.
“Those are some great guys,” said Mindy.
“Yeah, they are,” said Bobby, shaking his head. He looked around. “Where’s Jenn?”
“She’s in the back seat of the car,” said Mindy. “Pain pill finished the job of kicking her butt. You’re hard on a woman, mister hermit.”
He took her into his arms.
“Sorry,” he said.
She reached up to kiss him.
“I’m not,” she responded.
Bobby followed them home, and then helped get Jennifer into the house. Together Mindy and Bobby got her pants and shirt off, and tucked her into bed wearing only her panties.
Mindy took his hand and pulled him to her bedroom.
“I’m too tired to take a shower tonight,” she said.
“I know,” he agreed.
“I can change the sheets tomorrow,” she said.
“I can sleep on the couch,” he offered, thinking about how dirty he was.
“No, you can’t,” she said firmly.
He watched her take off the clothes she had teased him with as she put them on. He was hard when his own clothes came off.
“Save that thought,” she said as she got into bed and patted the sheet next to her.
He got in bed. She rolled toward him, lifting one leg to capture his stiff organ between her thighs.
“I’m going to want that in the morning,” she said, nuzzling his chest.
“Me too,” he said, closing his eyes.
During that week, other things happened for Bobby as well. On Wednesday, Mindy took him to Rapid City for a meeting with Rayleen. It was the first time he’d actually met his lawyer, and she didn’t look anything like he had expected her to. Instead of being a dour, serious looking corporate type, she was a tall, striking red head with a smile like Julia Roberts and a head of hair like Dolly Parton. She was wearing jeans and a western shirt, with a leather vest over it.
“Heard about your visit from Mr. Davis,” she said, once they shook hands and sat down.
“Yeah,” said Bobby.
“He’ll find out that little adventure is going to cost him a pretty penny,” she said, grinning.
“All I need to do is rebuild. I’m not out to make anything off of this,” said Bobby.
Rayleen opened a file folder. “Terrence Davis, aged forty-three. Married three times. Each wife produced a son. All three boys have been in trouble with the law multiple times, but have yet to be prosecuted for anything. Mr. Davis is the owner and operator of the Rushmore Auto Works, which has fifteen bays. He employs twenty-six people, including the guy who runs his tire warehouse, which supplies tires on a wholesale basis to about a third of the state. His annual income, according to tax records, is about five million dollars, and he pays his mechanics thirteen bucks an hour. To put that into perspective, if you take your car to him, he charges eighty-five dollars an hour for labor. He pays no alimony, because he managed to have both of his previous wives classified as unfit mothers, and got full custody of their children. He lives in Keystone because the taxes are less there, and he’s a primary supporter of the mayor, who has been re-elected a number of times.”
She closed the file and looked at Bobby.
“To Terry Davis, fifteen thousand dollars is pocket money. He probably blows more than that throwing a single dinner party for his friends. One of his kids is an auto thief. Another is a serial shoplifter who has been banned from two shopping centers and a dozen individual stores. The third is an arsonist, and I want to send the whole group of people like him that think they own and run Keystone a message that if they mess with you it’s going to cost them big money.”
“How much are you suing him for?” asked Bobby.
“I’m not suing him,” said Rayleen. “You are. And you are suing him for five million dollars.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Bobby, stunned.
“What’s ridiculous,” said Rayleen, “is that a bunch of wet behind the ears teeny boppers trashed your house and then burned it to the ground. They need to be held accountable for that. Their parents haven’t shown any indication that they’re going to hold their children accountable. One of those parents has insulted you and tried to buy you off so that his son can avoid accountability for his actions. All these people understand is money, so that’s where we’re going to hurt them.”
“But the house will only cost maybe fifty thousand to replace, if I put back in the same thing that was there,” said Bobby.
“That’s between you and the insurance agency,” said Rayleen. “This suit is for damages not covered by insurance, such as the garage, and the forest, as well as pain and suffering.
“But five million dollars?” He looked at her askance. “That’s just too much.”
“I know,” she said, easily, flashing him a brilliant smile. “I’ll be happy if we get two.”
Of course, the other thing that went on that week was the evolution of Bobby’s relationship with the women he was temporarily living with.
It was much more complicated than it needed to be. Mindy was sure that her daughter and Bobby had made love. They had not, of course, and acted accordingly. Mindy thought they just wanted their privacy. She didn’t think about the complete lack of privacy in which Jennifer had first been exposed to Bobby’s naked body, or how that kind of thing could set a precedent and be seen as “normal” by her daughter.
It was complicated for Bobby because when he slept with Mindy, they made love in the way of conventional lovers. With Jennifer, they nibbled all around the edges of becoming full and complete lovers, but still didn’t go all the way. The fact that both of them wanted to go all the way only made their passion hotter.
And what that meant was that Jennifer got used to using his naked penis as something to rub on, or against. It became a tool for her to stroke her clitty with, and tease her vaginal opening, pressing it almost inside her, but not quite. She rode its rigid length while he suckled at her tender, sensitive nipples, and had orgasms that she grew addicted to.
And if he didn’t blow his sperm all over her pussy lips, she lovingly sucked it out of him after she was satisfied.
The Puritans messed up the infant “new world” culture pretty thoroughly, for being a minority presence in early America. Their influence is fully present more than two centuries later. It’s at the root of why we teach our young people that sex is dangerous and taboo. In fact, even talking about sex is taboo.
But if you reflect on that from a biological, evolutionary perspective, sex is neither dangerous nor taboo. It is, in fact, required. And for those of you who feel creationism is the way to go ... well ... all creatures were created with the requirement to reproduce, so that still makes it part of normal life.
But besides being patently ridiculous, one of the problems with that whole “Sex is wrong!” thing is that, if you’re not actually having “sex” then you don’t feel like you’re doing anything wrong.
Such as rubbing a spurting penis between virgin pussylips, and getting that sperm inside the vagina, even if the penis doesn’t enter itself. It’s just too easy to say “We didn’t have sex!” and then believe that there is no danger.
And Mindy, who was routinely pleasured with a condom-covered penis, had no reason to believe that her daughter wasn’t being treated to exactly the same thing.
She did not, in other words, do any condom counting.
Jayla
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