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The Romantic VigilanteChapter 3: Where There's A Will, There's A Way free porn video
The opportunity to do something about his obsession had arisen following a trip of a lifetime. Gavin thought back to the year before.
2006
Gavin was surprised and flattered when the recruiter from Southern Utah University contacted Glen and Christine with the possibility of a full athletic scholarship for him. Wendon B Braithwaite III arranged to visit their house to go through the details of what the University could offer.
Gavin's head was spinning with the package that he was being offered, which included a three-week visit to see the campus and the surrounding area. The trip was all expenses paid and even if he decided not to take the offer, the prospect of a free holiday in the States was too good to miss.
He flew from Prestwick Airport in the first week in July. Although the accommodation, food and travel arrangements were quite basic, for a boy from Glasgow who had never been outside of Scotland, the experience was fantastic.
The bus from the airport drove along Interstate 15 and eventually reached Iron County. Gavin looked out of the window as they passed through Cedar City. The route was planned intentionally to show things at their best and although tired, the broad main street with its ornate streetlights and small trees impressed him.
His tiredness left him when the bus pulled into the campus and he saw Southern Utah University for the first time. The sight of the mixed buildings - mostly three-storey - surrounded by lush green lawns was impressive enough. When that was all framed by the backdrop of what looked like a vivid red mesa in the distance, it really took his breath away. The scene immediately reminded him of many of the many Louis L'Amour books he had now read. This was the kind of land the Sacketts would have ridden over!
The first week of his stay started with tours of the various buildings - from the original 'Old Main' building, dating back to 1898, through the Braithwaite Liberal Arts Centre, R Haze Hunter Conference Centre, the Sherratt Library and the J L Sorenson PE Building. There was also a tour of the Eccles Coliseum where the University played its home sports games and where the Utah Summer Games were held. Gavin wondered if Wendon B Braithwaite had any connection to the family that had funded the Arts Centre.
Gavin used much of his meagre cash allowance to phone home every second night to share his experiences with his family. He was especially nice to his sister, sensing how badly she was missing him.
The first week was topped off by a trip through the nearby Bryce Canyon National Park. An air-conditioned bus took them along an almost twenty mile scenic route, with more than 10 viewpoints that overlooked the various natural amphitheatres that the park was famous for. The air-conditioning offset the temperatures that were in the mid thirties.
The first stop was the park's visitor's centre - a large red building with a shape that Gavin thought was like an ornate, gambrel-roofed Dutch barn. There was a shining flagpole outside flying the Stars and Stripes and the guides couldn't do enough to talk-up the many sights in the park.
He was impressed by the huge, natural sandstone amphitheatres of red, orange and white rock - the viewpoints on the rims of them were cooler as they were between 8,000-9,000 feet above sea level. The trip ended at the Bryce Canyon Lodge with its tiled roof looking almost green in the sunshine and he bought some souvenirs to take home.
All in all Gavin thought it was an excellent end to the week. He had always loved his westerns and now he was in the middle of the country where the stories had been set. His idealised dreams of being a similar hero, an honest man who stood up to evil wherever he found it and acting as the agent of justice were being subtly re-inforced.
The second week had involved various meetings with faculty members - both in the sports programmes and in the business school that Gavin could be studying in. He joined a group for lunch on the Tuesday and got talking to a boy from Oregon who had also been offered a scholarship.
"Hi, the name's James Wiggins," the boy said with a grin, extending his hand.
For some reason, with a flash of precognition, Gavin decided to try to remain somewhat anonymous.
"Gavin," he replied, shaking the other boy's hand.
James didn't register the fact that Gavin hadn't given his surname.
The two boys bumped into each other several times during the week and grew comfortable in each other's company.
The University organised another scenic trip towards the end of week two. This time they were taken to the Zion National Park and Gavin found himself sitting beside James for the trip on another bus.
The American was several inches taller than he was and also bigger across the shoulders and chest. James soon explained that he had grown so much due to the hard work he had to do everyday 'around the farm'. Gavin's first inkling that there was more to James than he was letting on came when he asked for more details about the farm.
"So what kind of farm does your family run, James? Are you running stock or is it crops?" he asked, innocently.
"Well it's not exactly my family's farm, it's more like a kinda large combine. We're kinda self-sufficient, if ya know what I mean, so we raise stock and grow crops too.
"Anyway, listen, my Pa is always claiming that our family are descended from the Scots - the MacDonald clan or something. When I was a boy he was forever telling me stories about Bonnie Prince Charlie and how he was saved by Flora MacDonald. Tell me something about the old country?" James asked.
Gavin got the distinct impression that the other boy had just changed the subject to avoid anymore talk about the 'combine' that was his home. The comment about them being self-sufficient had piqued Gavin's interest and he felt a small tingle of excitement.
"If I'm right, I have to take this slowly or I'll scare him off for sure," he thought to himself.
Gavin was more than happy describing what life was like growing up in Scotland. Perhaps because they were still relatively strangers, he even found himself telling James about how his mother had died eight years before.
"Man, that sure does suck!" exclaimed Wiggins.
"Yeah, that's one way of putting it. I've promised myself that I will track down the guy who killed her no matter how long it takes," Gavin replied.
"Jeez! Are you gonna shoot the fucker?" James asked.
"Now where in the hell would I get my hands on a gun in the UK? If I was William Tell Sackett that's just what I'd do, but we're a wee bit different over there, man, we don't have guns everywhere like you guys seem to," Gavin answered.
"Hey! A Louis L'Amour fan, cool! So, what are you gonna do? Stick the bastard?"
"I don't know how I'm gonna do it yet. I just know that I will track him down and then he's mine," Gavin said.
The bus pulled into the Zion National Park and they had their first sight of Horse Ranch Mountain. At nearly 9,000 feet high it was a mixture of red and white streaked cliffs, rising to a peak coloured grey-green and white. The bus stopped outside the Temple of Sinawava, apparently a Paiute god of the Coyote, and they then took a foot trail that led to the Zion Narrows.
Gavin felt this was another impressive spectacle - red sandstone cliffs that rose to a thousand feet high and in the bright sunshine they shone like burnished copper. Once more he romanticised about what he was seeing and could almost imagine the hard men who dispensed their own brand of summary frontier justice. He envisioned himself amongst them.
The rest of the day was spent just lazily sightseeing through the park and eating at the concessions. The talk between Gavin and James turned to lighter stuff like what sports they were interested in and what they planned to major in when they attended University.
The third week was even more relaxed, with most of it given over to free time. The University did take them to a Shakespeare play on the Monday night. The play was staged on campus in the Adams outdoor Theatre. The Adams structure was clearly based on the original Globe theatre in London.
They were due to leave on Friday morning and on Wednesday a final trip had been planned for them. This was the longest yet and involved a ride over into neighbouring Arizona to see the Grand Canyon.
Gavin was blown away by the scale of the canyon and the sheer beauty of the rock formations. He knew the sights would stay with him for the rest of his life and he daydreamed about what life must have been like in the old West.
The potential Southern Utah students had been left to wander around on their own and teenage boys being teenage boys, James and Gavin had ducked under the safety barriers to get a closer look over the rim of the canyon.
To Gavin, things happened in slow motion. One second James was standing on the edge peering down at the floor of the canyon and the next his arms were wind-milling, as the soft sandstone under his feet crumbled and gave way and he slipped over the edge.
Gavin acted instinctively and with the incredible speed his martial arts training had given him. He reached out and grabbed hold of one of James' arms as the other boy fell. Gavin found himself hanging onto James, now down on his own knees, perilously close to the rim.
James' eyes were as big as saucers as they locked onto Gavin's, the fear obvious.
"Hang on, man, hang on!" Gavin urged.
The years of swimming and working out at the dojo had given Gavin immense strength in his arms, shoulders and legs. At that moment it felt as if the larger boy's weight was going to pull both his arms out of their sockets, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. Slowly he began to push himself up off of his knees, straining his powerful thigh muscles to drive himself upwards inch by painful inch.
Somehow James managed to gain a foothold and the strain on Gavin lessened immediately. He was able to quickly pull the American back up over the edge and they both fell onto the red rock, panting for breath. It took a few minutes before either of them could speak.
"Jeez, man. Fuck! Oh sweet Jesus, that was close!" James moaned.
Gavin laughed.
"You know, you're stronger than you look, man. Thanks," James added.
Gavin laughed again and slapped James on the shoulder. Teenagers find it difficult at times to fully express themselves, but the look that had passed between them when Gavin was pulling him up had said everything that needed to be said. The trip back to the campus was made in relative silence, as both boys tried to come to terms with what had almost happened.
James suggested that they go out into Cedar City on their last night. The two had formed the kind of bond that sharing a near death situation can sometimes create.
James found them a bar almost as soon as they stepped down from the bus that had taken them into town. Gavin wasn't sure at first, he didn't tend to drink alcohol at home - he was after all only sixteen. James insisted that the least he could do for his good Scots buddy was buy him a few beers before he returned to the UK. Gavin knew it would be rude to refuse and he soon found himself with an ice-cold bottle of Bud.
"So, do you think you're gonna come here to University, Gavin?" James asked.
"I haven't made my mind up yet," he replied and quickly looked round to see if anyone could hear him.
"I'm kinda put off by all these Mormons to be honest. I mean they've all been really nice and I can't fault them for that, but they just seem too intense about their beliefs. It makes me uncomfortable to tell you the truth," he added.
James nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. They are kind of a full-on at times aren't they?"
After two more beers each Gavin felt the time had come to try and explore the thing that had sparked his interest the week before.
"Hey, Jamie. I've told you what it's like growing up in Scotland. Tell me a little about life on the farm in Oregon?" he asked.
James hesitated for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision.
"Well seeing as how we're good friends and all, I guess I can tell you a little.
"When I said the farm was more like a combine and that we were self-sufficient, I didn't tell you the whole story. My family is part of a survivalist group. We've got over twenty families living in our valley and we pretty much grow crops, raise stock or make everything that we need to get by," James said.
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