Pasayten PeteChapter 6: Lights In The Night free porn video

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Alex Sr. worked away during the week on a Columbia River dam site. He came home most weekends, making the three-hour drive Friday evening. Often he was quite late, saying he'd gotten "hung up" with friends or late work. Usually his breath smelled of whiskey. He had always been a drinker and enjoyed hanging out in the evenings with his tavern buddies. But now there was a new element: jealousy.

There had been jealous rages before. Once in Wyoming at a rented tar-paper shack on the South Platte river, he returned home from a drinking binge and stormed through the front door. He raged at Dee that he saw strange tire tracks in the dirt driveway. That argument escalated into a shouting and screaming match until Dee, frightened and humiliated beyond reason, grabbed her .22 rifle from the bedroom and chased Alex Sr. from the house, firing shots at his fleeing heels. He sped away in the family car and did not return until the next morning, hat in hand. That was another family "legend" -- the night Dee shot the heels from Alex Sr's boots.

It was a perverse jealousy, for Dee was faithful and Alex Sr. was not. But, he believed that if he could "play around," then Dee would also.

Graydon was asleep. He and little Alex had waited up late that Friday evening until Dee chased them to bed; then they had lain awake for another hour, peering out the upstairs windows beside their bed, looking for a glimpse of headlights on the Wolf Creek road. It was a fun time for the family when Alex Sr. was sober. They'd pack the Blue Goose with a picnic lunch and fishing gear for a day's outing. Or they'd just drive one of the mountain roads up the Methow, or Chewack, or Lost River valleys, sometimes topping out on a high ridge where they could see mountain peaks stretching away in all directions. Or sometimes, during hot summer weekends, they would go to a small lake for a day of fishing, swimming, and picnicking.

Shouts and his mother's protests awakened Graydon from a deep sleep. It had been a dreamless sleep, black and unconscious. Now he was fully awake, hearing the raging argument downstairs. In the dim moonlight he could see Alex Jr. stir in his bed, awake but huddled under his blanket.

Alex Sr's voice raised in anger, a torrent of accusations and curses punctuated by high-pitched, sobbing denials from Dee. A crash meant Alex Sr. had kicked the door, or a table, or a wall. Another string of curses and another crash, and more accusations of "having men visitors" and cheating and playing around behind his back.

Graydon had never heard violent outbursts this angry or furniture crashing against the walls so wildly as he was hearing now. His mother's voice became increasingly hysterical, broken with sobs, and then, while Alex Sr. resumed raging, she went silent. Another crash: Alex Sr. had kicked and punched the kitchen door, then slammed it open again against the wall, amidst sound of dishes and containers crashing and clattering to the floor.

Silence for a time. Alex Sr. had slammed out through the front door, onto the porch, mutterings. Graydon could hear his mother pull a chair out from the kitchen table, its legs scraping against the rough linoleum floor.

The downstairs erupted again in violence: Alex Sr. slammed back into the house. Graydon heard a slap and his mother's scream, amidst more profane bellows.

Graydon stood up in his briefs and bare feet, frightened, unsure, his mind racing with conflicts and fear. He hated Alex Sr. when these drunken rages came upon them, but never before did he fear for his mother's safety. Now he was truly frightened for her. Graydon dare not face Alex Sr. directly. He was no match, physically, for the brawny, barrel-chested man whose great pride was tavern brawling with a pair of huge fists. Graydon was not yet 13, tall but thin, and he hated fighting. He was not at all good with his fists.

But he must do something. If Alex Sr. hit his mother with his fists ... it was unthinkable ... she was small, and Graydon couldn't imagine...

The rifle was in the closet, standing in the corner. It was loaded, 18 long-rifle hollow point rounds in its tubular magazine.

In bare feet, shivering in fear and the cold air of the night, he grasped his rifle and jacked the lever down and back, sliding a bullet into the breech. This also cocked the prominent thumb-hammer back, ready to fire. From long habit, Graydon slid his index finger through the trigger guard. His thumb on the hammer held it down. Downstairs the violence raged but he could hear no blows, only the slamming of his step-father's fist hammering against a wall or door, and more curses.

He eased down the confined, steep stairway, his bare feet feeling for and gripping each board as he descended. He reached the small bottom floor fronting the three doors: one to the outside, one to the kitchen, and one into the front room where the angry shouting continued. He stood there, the rifle at port arms, waiting. He would intercede. If he heard a fist strike his mother, he knew what he would do. He would turn the old porcelain knob, step through the door, and confront the man at gunpoint. At this moment, Graydon did not consider the raging beast in the room to be his step-father. It was a monster, and if the monster hit his mother or turned to charge, he would fire. And fire again, and again. Although it was only a .22 caliber rifle, Graydon had killed deer in the river's cottonwood bottoms with head shots, the bullet aimed between the eyes. He knew well the deadly effect his rifle would have. Shots into the center of a man's chest would be fatal.

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Chapter 6: Lights in the Night Videos

Pasayten PeteChapter 8 Spirits in the Fire

Graydon could feel himself evenly balanced on his skis. He could feel his arms bearing down on his ski poles, planted firmly to each side. Otherwise he felt suspended in space, hanging in milk. His feet ended at his boot tops and no trace of snow or shadow or outline or slope or mountainside existed in his vision. There was no horizon and no sky. It was a perfect "whiteout," that rare condition of light in which snow and sky are perfectly blended together and there is no trace of shadow or...

Pasayten PeteChapter 10 The Snake Hunt

The winter passed quickly for Graydon. School classes, homework, homestead chores, Christmas, the February chinook winds that brought a sudden thaw to the deep snows and turned the fields into lakes and the roadside ditches into torrents, followed by a hard freeze and a snowfall that locked the valley into another six weeks of winter; everything mixed his days into a hurried winter passage. Weekends allowed time for cross-country ski treks, either across Wolf Creek and up to the old lodge,...

Pasayten PeteChapter 14 The Shaman

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Pasayten PeteChapter 15 The Apprentice

Fall arrived in a series of storms, each more intense than the last, until just after Halloween a cold air mass from the north mixed with a wet air mass from the west. The valley lay blanketed under its first heavy snowfall. Time had passed rapidly for Graydon and Mike; Graydon was unusually busy for a teenager: school had started, homestead chores and homework took much of his time, and he spent nearly every weekend at the Brightman ranch. Mike had strengthened his leg and walked with only...

Pasayten PeteChapter 13 The Rescue

There was little that Graydon could do for Mike beyond what he'd already done. He refilled his water bottle and left that within easy reach, with some dried fruit, nuts, and chocolate snacks. He put a rolled jacket under Mike's head, and carefully lifted his right side to lay a folded wool blanket under him, and another blanket over him to ease the cold and reduce the shock from his injuries. He'd built a tiny fire, just enough to make a pot of camp coffee and to boil panels of t-shirt...

Pasayten PeteChapter 5 The Fight

The yellow school bus pulled up to their narrow drive on the gravel road, loaded Graydon and Alex Jr, drove a hundred yards to the "Y" intersection of the Wolf Creek spur and turned around. Their house was the last stop. It was four miles to school. Graydon sat at the window with Alex Jr. beside him. He watched the sagebrush flats roll by, the rock piles and stunted apple trees and lilacs marking where earlier homestead efforts had withered from lack of water. Wolf Creek was a seasonal...

Pasayten PeteChapter 2 Homesteaders

Dee Johns found her home at the end of a washboard gravel road four miles northwest of Winthrop. "A place to settle down," she said. They were at Wolf Creek where it emerges from a deep canyon that cuts between the north end of Thompson Ridge and the south end of Virginian Ridge, the western wall of the upper valley. It was a sweltering 100-mile drive northeast along the Columbia River, then north along the Methow River, following sharper and narrower bends, climbing and winding, crossing...

Pasayten PeteChapter 3 Spirit Dreams

Cottonwood trees flanking the rock-rimmed irrigation ditch behind the house moaned in the rising late-night wind. Graydon heard the swaying branches outside and close thunder booming from the north as an early summer storm moved down the valley. They had spent several days cleaning out clutter and moving in. Alex Senior made a trip in the Blue Goose to buy used furniture: a kitchen table and chairs, an iron frame double bed with springs and mattress, two war surplus barrack cots with pads, an...

Pasayten PeteChapter 4 Goat Man

His Arkansas drawl was thick like rich molasses, slow and easy. Ezekial Patterson seemed ageless; tall, slightly hunch-shouldered, and he shuffled along with a slight limp. "Patch," as folks called him, was as much a part of the 300-acre river-bottoms as the fields, the willows, and the cottonwood trees. His best pal Purdy dressed all in black with a floppy black hat. Patch wore blue denim that went unwashed once he put it on new from the General Store. The jacket and trousers were crusted...

Pasayten PeteChapter 7 Winter Lodge

Winters in the Methow Valley were cold, sometimes bitterly so. Temperatures ranged well below zero. The snow would pile up two and three feet deep. It fell to Graydon to keep the driveway into the Wolf Creek homestead shoveled out when the snow got deeper than the sedan his step-father drove, or the panel truck, their faithful Blue Goose, could break through without chains. Graydon would wax the flat-bladed shovel and begin cutting blocks from the deep snow, lifting each, and heaving it to...

Pasayten PeteChapter 11 Graydon Wins a Fight

Spring merged into early summer; it was June and Graydon found himself working, putting up hay bales for a rancher from whom his step-father had borrowed money. Graydon was working off the debt. He was able to handle the bales, averaging 60 to 75 lbs each, walking beside a tractor-drawn wagon and grabbing each bale by its wire bindings and swinging it up to another teenager with hay hooks, who would swing the bale into place on the growing load. Even for June it was damned hot and sweaty...

Pasayten PeteChapter 12 Rock slide

The trail into upper Wolf Creek canyon was open; the last snows had melted out of the north-slope shaded areas and the spring floods had subsided. Graydon was restless. He gathered together his packsack gear, some staple foodstuffs, his fishing pole, and told his mother that he'd be hiking up the canyon, perhaps as far as Gardner Meadows, at the base of the mountain. He planned to be gone three days for some early season trout fishing on the way up, and two nights of sleeping out. Actually,...

Pasayten PeteChapter 16 Marilee

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Pasayten PeteChapter 17 Disclosure

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Pasayten PeteChapter 18 Foundations

Graydon was exhausted. His eyes had sunk into their sockets, dark circles lay sagging above his gaunt cheekbones, and his face bore signs of strain and a weariness beyond his years. For a week he had spent his nights alone in the hayloft, isolated and immersed in his connections, seeing the harm that had befallen the Jacobs family. His days were filled with work, sweating to clear ditches, cut brush, weed the garden and repair fences around the old homestead. He drove himself hard, stopping...

Pasayten PeteChapter 19 Pride and Punishment

Father Bernard looked up from his sheath of papers to see an elderly man standing before his desk, a man in casual clothing such as a rancher might wear. Such attire was not uncommon for this midwestern region, but it was exceptionally unusual to find one dressed so casually in his private office, especially one who was both uninvited and unannounced. "How ... Who are ... Sir! Who are you, and how did you get into my office? No one is permitted in here without prior appointment! Miss...

Pasayten PeteChapter 20 Healing

The suicide of the priest was front page news on all of the city and regional newspapers. It was even featured on both national wire services. Frank and Madeline Jacobs, who had known Father Bernard and attended his church for most of their adult lives, were stunned. Frank struggled with conflicting emotions. He wanted Father Bernard punished. He wanted him jailed and defrocked for his crimes against Marilee. But suicide? God forbid that Frank should feel any satisfaction at such an end....

Pasayten PeteChapter 21 Transitions

"My name is Michael Peterson. My friends call me Mike. I've lived in the valley for many years, but it's a remote area and other than a few close friends I pretty much stay to myself." Mike sipped his second cup of coffee, leaning back and thinking to himself that Madeline Jacobs baked a fine pie. He'd savored that slice. Good home cooking never escaped his appreciation. Like most elderly bachelors, Mike cooked to survive but he didn't often take time to turn out a gourmet meal....

Pasayten PeteChapter 22 Investigations

"You are absolutely certain, then? The coroner's report shows no drugs, no hallucinogens, no substances of any kind?" "No, sir. Father Bernard's body showed no evidence of any substance that might have caused hallucinations or insanity. There are no drug traces or other physiological evidence pointing to a trigger for his breakdown." "Yet he virtually tore himself to pieces. His face was a mask of utter terror. This is not the act of a rational man, obviously. The simple conclusion...

Pasayten PeteChapter 23 Marilee Fights

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Pasayten PeteChapter 24 Relocation

"James, I was chatting with Eleanor Whittaker at our card club yesterday, and she mentioned something to me that you might want to pass on to Ken Granger. She and her husband own the insurance agency in Twisp. They've been tied down to it for over 25 years, ever since Randall took it over from his father." Vi Brightman was bustling around the kitchen, getting the rest of their morning breakfast on the table. Jim was enjoying his first morning coffee and eyeing a growing stack of potato...

Pasayten PeteChapter 26 Vitellis End

Marilee came through the front door with Graydon right behind her. They stopped in the kitchen doorway. Her parents sat at the table with Fr. Ambrose, his back to the two young people. When he saw Frank's eyes lift toward the doorway, Fr. Ambrose rose from his chair and strode forward, extending his hand. "Good evening, Marilee. It is good to see you again. Who is this young man with you?" Marilee blushed shyly. She turned to bring Graydon alongside. "This is Graydon Williams, our...

Pasayten PeteChapter 27 Vitellis Hell

M. Vitelli froze in mid-step and stared, unbelieving, at the two figures holding hands, standing side by side on the altar of the small chapel. There were only the three of them there in the gloom. Vitelli spun around when the front door he had arrogantly left standing ajar slammed shut. The room reverberated with the sound. The interior gloom intensified. He could barely make out the walls of the small chapel, scarcely three strides to either side. The darkness seemed to close in around him,...

Pasayten PeteChapter 28 Reunion

Jim Brightman, Mike Peterson and Father Ambrose sat around Vi's kitchen table, delighted to be reunited after so many years apart. They sat sipping coffee after one of Vi's delicious meals. She decided to leave the three old friends alone and slipped off to the other room. It was a time for catching up, for reliving old memories as older men often do. Time slipped away as they talked. Vi came in, put another pot of coffee on the stove and served up dishes of fresh apple pie with homemade...

Pasayten PeteChapter 29 Altered Plans

"As I see it, we have a number of problems to deal with. Some are moral and spiritual, and some are practical." Mike and Father Ambrose rested in their hotel room after a light meal. Both were troubled. They were confronting a massive problem, head on, and neither was sure how to proceed. Following the first rule of consultation, "two heads are better than one," they were engaging in some sincere discussion of their goals and how best to achieve them. "Our biggest problem is the good...

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Thevidiya Thangaiyai Oothen

Hi friends, indru tamil kama kathaiyil en sontha thangaiyai epadi oothen endra kudumba tamil kama kathaiyai ungal idam pagirugiren. Vaarungal tamil kama kathaikul selalam, en peyar prathap vayathu 28 aagugirathu. Enaku oru thangi irukiraal aval peyar mala vayathu 26 aagugirathu, avaluku innum thirumanam seiya vilai Avaluku thirumanam seithu vaikum alavirku engal idam ipozhuthu panam ilai, loan apply seithu atharkaaga kathukondu irukirom. Naan oru kama veriyan eppozhuthu pen kidaikum avargalai...

The Murder of Sharon Weathers Slut Extraordinaire

My name is Rebecca. Everyone calls me Becca. I entered the police department right out of college. I progressed rapidly, through different divisions and assignments. I always had my eyes set on Robbery-Homicide and after six years of hard word and dedication, I finally made it. At age thirty, I was youngest female in the division for such a coveted assignment, but I was superb at my job. I made it because of my skill not my gender. It was Saturday. Dispatch called our number just after we had...

Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Thanks to my usual cast and crew of Editors and Advance Readers, most of whom prefer to pretend that they don’t know me and wisely wish to take no responsibility for any part of my addled writings... Il n’est rien de réel que le rêve et l’amour - Nothing is real but dreams and love (from Le Coeur innombrable, IV, Chanson du temps opportun by Anna de Noailles) She was my one true mistress and ever faithful lover, my Green Lady and guardian of my dreams and now that I was back home...

Northern Lights

“Chase! So glad you’re here. Meet your shadow Chloe!” When she turned around, three words went through my mind: oh… my… god. She was this tall beautiful girl. She was about 5”10, with long blonde hair that went just atop her shoulders, blue swimmable eyes, and an athletic hourglass figure that perfectly complimented her personality. How did I get so lucky? “Hi Chloe, I’m Chase,” and I held out my hand. “Hi Chase, nice to meet you,” and she shook my hand. “Awesome. Glad you guys are...

College Pennai Toiletil Vaithu Veritheera Seithen

Hi friends, indru kathaiyil en nanbanai kathal seithu emathiriya pennai ootha kathaiyai ungal idam pagirugiren. En tamil kathaiyai inaiya thalathil pathivu seithatharku nandri, en peyar pradeep vayathu 21 aagugirathu. En nanbanai oru pen kathal seithu matter mudinthathum kayati vitu vitaal, athanaal naan avalai usar seithu hardcore seiyanum endru mudithu seithen. En nanban enaku nanban endru kanbithukolamal aval idam muthal muthalil pesi pazhaga aarambithen. Aval pathini pola en idam nadika...

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