by T. S. Hill
“Thirty-five miles!”
“Wooohooo!”, Lori cheered
“Wooohooo!”, I cried out, right behind her.
Along the road, I explained to Lori that each of the cities that we were going to had a road that completely encircled them, just like Crockett. There are so many directions from which to leave each of the cities, that there is no way to know which way someone had taken. Hopefully, with each city that we went to, the SOB would get angrier and angrier, and would deploy more and more resources, and call in more and more favors. I planned to call Al, and leave a throwaway phone in each town, then on to New Orleans.
In Palestine, we left another pile of sweet potatoes on the side, and a phone on the roof, of a huge, so called, antiques store, that was full of rooms, and full of jumble. Lori called it a junktique warehouse. She was right!
Leaving Palestine, we went on to Tyler, about fifty miles from Palestine, where once again, I called Al for a good five-minute conversation. Then before depositing the taped-up cell phone on the roof of this second RealMart, we made sure that we left an ample pile of sweet potatoes nearby, and tossed a few more to the roof, for good measure. Tyler would provide an even greater challenge to the SOB’s goons, because it had not only a circular highway like the other cities, but also another circle outside of the initial circle.
Then, it was back west for another thirty-five miles to Athens, where we left the fourth and final throwaway phone, under a bed in a cheap motel, that I paid for two days. That motel also happened to be conveniently located directly across the street from the city police station. We left the remainder of the sweet potatoes, about a bushel and a half, strewn in that room.
Instead of heading to the east, toward Lufkin or Nacogdoches, which also had circling highways, we headed west to Corsicana, another thirty-seven miles, to hit I-45. I had figured that if any of the SOB’s goons caught on to the circular highway theme, then they would head to Lufkin, and or Nacogdoches, to try to catch us coming in from the west. So instead, we headed west.
At Corsicana, we took a much-needed break, and after gassing up and buying coffee for the road, we set out down I-45 south, to connect with I-10 in Houston, and then on east to New Orleans, and finally, home to the treehouse. We would be driving practically all night. I expected, at best, the trip to be at least nine hours. However, with stops for gas, bathroom breaks, and loads of coffee, the trip actually extended to nine hours, just to New Orleans. Once in New Orleans, we had another forty five minutes to an hour drive to my surprise for Lori, my infamous tree house on the bayou.
We rolled in on the sand lot beneath the tree house, at four thirty in the morning, on the dot. Lori had been a road warrior, but had finally lost her battle with fatigue around three thirty, and was sound asleep. I felt like a zombie. The quarts of coffee, and miles of broken white lines in the center lane, hypnotically flashing past, had taken their toll on my brain.
Just as soon as I stepped out of the truck, I saw a light flicker on through the trees, a few hundred yards away. That would be my neighbor, and lifelong friend Aug, short for Augustine; Augustine Benoit. Our fathers had been best friends near Oklahoma City where they had both worked the oil rigs, and we had grown up in the shadows of our fathers, hunting and fishing together, and later we came to Aug’s original home, New Orleans, to attend fire school together.
Following fire school, we went in different directions with our careers, but had gone partners on this piece of the bayou, where our, practically twin, tree houses were located, only about three hundred yards apart. For the last eight years, we had been neighbors, and there for each other in times of need. When time permitted, we hunted and fished the bijou together, and still remained as lifelong friends, and safety nets, to each other.
I knew what to expect next, and just stood still, and waited. It would take Aug a few minutes to make his way over to see what was up at my place. I wouldn’t hear a thing, until he spoke from just a few feet away, with a 30.06, or a 12 gauge, in his hands. If he didn’t get an answer that he recognized, someone would stand a good chance of becoming alligator bait.
Tonight, that someone was me, so instead of risking moving in a way that might be the wrong way, I just stood still. True to form, in a few minutes I heard his voice out of the darkness from behind me.
“Let’s start”. the gravelly voice said. “With you telling me who you are, and what you’re doing here.”
“I’m here to find out if you snagged that big bull gator yet, or if I’m going to have to show you how to do it!”, I said.
“Damnit Beau!”, I coulda shot your ass! Why do you always come in here and not let me know it’s you? I go to all the trouble to sneak over here, to be sure that some sumbitch ain’t over here robbing you, and what do I get for thanks? You fucking wid me!”
“30.06 or 12 gauge this time Aug?
“12 guage, three inch, with long brass! I coulda fucked you up so bad your sister wouldn’t have recognized you, even after Saunder’s Parlor got through fixin’ you up! Why the hell do you do things this way?”
“Cause I got tired of you kickin’ my door in, every time I snuck a girl into the house!”
“You got a girl with you?”
“Yes, if you don’t scare her off, with all your hollering!”
“Oh well, why the fuck didn’t you say so?”
“I just did!”
“Okay! Uh. I’ll check with you tomorrow after I get off work, if that’s okay?”
“You still get off at three?”
“Yeah. Get home bout three thirty.”
“That’ll work!”
“Okay, see you then. G’night.”
“G’night!” Then there was silence again. I stood still for at least two minutes to try to hear him slipping through the forest path between our homes. I heard only the frogs, crickets, night birds, and gator croaks. I knew that I had brought Lori to the safest place on planet earth.
I went up the zigzag stair chase and unlocked the door, flipped on a light, and quickly assessed that everything looked undisturbed. Then I descended the stairs and gathered Lori up into my arms. I try to stay in good shape, but climbing all those stairs carrying Lori, had me totally winded by the time I reached the door again.
Kicking myself for not turning down the bed before I brought her up, I laid her on the bed, and turned own the opposite side, then transferred her over to it. I removed her boots, and couldn’t figure out how to get anything else off of her without really disturbing her, so I covered her clothes and all.
After bringing up the important stuff from the truck, I locked up, set the perimeter alarm, undressed, and climbed into bed with Lori. I gathered her into my arms, holding her close, but could not sleep. The quarts of caffeine laced coffee, were still punching my alert button. So, I lay quietly, holding Lori, and contemplating the possibilities of our future.
My own bed again, after more than six months, with my own familiar soil beneath my feet, felt good. It felt really good! The smell of the old wooden tree house, was the smell of home. I buried my nose into Lori’s hair, and inhaled her scent. That was home too. Just before I finally drifted off to sleep, I could see that the world outside of the window, had become a little brighter than the interior of the room. This had been just another sleepless night for me, but I wondered what kind of night Sam Milinni had.
I think, that maybe, I had been asleep for almost four hours, when Lori woke me. She had been up for a while, and after wandering around, figured out that we were more than two stories above the ground. She had also managed to find the coffee maker on the kitchen counter, and coffee that I keep in the refrigerator. Call me weird. I call it fresh.
After making coffee and having a couple of cups, she had found a large cast iron skillet, wrapped in a quilt, laying in the floor just inside the entrance door. It had hot contents that she wasn’t familiar with, and had no idea where it had come from, much less where she was. All she knew was that I had been in the bed with her when s
he woke up. But, I’ll give the girl credit. She was only slightly freaked.
The contents of the pan were fried rice with crawfish and green onion sausage, a traditional Cajun breakfast. Aug had slipped up before going to work, and slid it just inside the door, wrapped in a quilt to keep it hot. He, of course, had all the keys and alarm codes to my place, as I did his. I thought it really considerate of him. Lori thought it creepy, but she didn’t know Aug yet.
I totally enjoyed Aug’s breakfast offering. Lori tasted it, and then opened a jar of peaches from the crates in the truck. I think that if she had already known Aug, that she would have eaten it. No matter, we both had breakfast and coffee, and for my part, it was a great day to be alive!
Eventually, Lori wandered around and found the covered balcony that faces toward the bigger, open, water. I became a little worried when I didn’t see or hear her for a bit, and then I heard her calling me. As I slipped through the door to the balcony that comes from the foyer, between the master bedroom and its bath, she didn’t hear me. She was leaning on the top rail of the balustrade, and was wearing the same red floral dress, that she had first worn, when we were at the barn back in Texas.
Her golden curls streamed down her back, and her tanned arms, and exposed legs below the knees, were bare, as well as her feet. I studied the beautiful calves of her legs, and the daintiness of her feet, and sighed. The sound of my sighing startled her.
“Cowboy! How long have you been there spying on me?”
“I wasn’t spying, I was observing!”
“And what were you observing?”
“The most beautiful creature in the universe!”, I proclaimed, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around her waist. She took a slow, deep, breath, and then slowly let it out.
“It sure is beautiful and peaceful here, Cowboy. Where are we?”
“I thought that you had figured that out by now, I replied. Aug my neighbor, and best friend?”
“Is this your house?”, she exclaimed. “I mean, where you live?”
“Home sweet home!”
“Oh, my God!” I love this place!”
“Yeah, I’m kind of fond of it myself.”, I replied.
“I’ll tell you something right now, Miss Lori. No matter where we go, or wind up living, I’m keeping this place. This is one of those places, that lucky people have, to always come back to.”
“It smells like home, Cowboy. I mean that in a good way too.”
“I imagine that it always will.”, I replied. “I can also imagine little Cowboy junior, and maybe a couple of little Miss Loris, running around in the sand under the house, stirring up doodle bugs, and pulling at old Blood’s tail.”
“What’s an old Blood?”, Lori asked.
“Aug’s dog.”, I replied. “If he gets on your leg and starts humpin’ just give your leg a shake, and he’ll usually get the idea, and leave you alone.
“What if he doesn’t get the idea?”
“Then wash your leg.” Lori slapped my arm that was wrapped around her waist on top of my other arm.
“Are you serious about Cowboy junior and little Loris?”
“As serious as a heart attack.”, I calmly replied. “How do you feel about that?” Lori spun in my arms, and threw her arms around my neck, slamming her mouth into mine. Her tongue pushed past my lips, and began wildly engaging my tongue. When our lips eventually parted, she spoke first.
“You know Cowboy, this balcony is the perfect place to fuck!”
“I already knew that.”, I fired back. “But, you don’t know how glad I am that you agree with me!”
“Am I about to find out?”, Lori asked.
“You are about to find out!”, I growled at her. Although the bedroom was only a few steps away, we were both so caught up by our passion, that we began pulling our clothes from each other, in the process of pawing, kissing, and nipping at each other’s body. At length, we were both naked and gradually melting to the floor.
I asked Lori if she wanted to go to the bed, and she replied, “No! I don’t want to stop!” So, stop, we didn’t. Not soon enough, she was spread-eagled, naked, on the rough sawn wood floor. I hovered over her, propped up by my left hand on the floor, with my throbbing cock in my right, ready to enter her pussy, which was seeping its abundant juices from between it’s beautiful lips.
The very picture of our place and position, poured back into my consciousness from a recent memory. That first afternoon that our paths crossed, and I had knocked her unconscious, one of the many fantasies I’d had of her, was of this very scene. And now, here I was, about to fuck this amazingly beautiful woman, on the rough plank floor of my tree house. As I eased my cock between the soaked, slick, lips of her pussy, she arched her hips to meet me, and then wrapped her arms and legs around me. From that point forward, we fucked like two dogs in heat.
Lori came first with a loud wail, then as she was finishing, my climax began, and a loud guttural, “Ahhhhhhh!”, came from deep down in my throat. Finished and spent, we collapsed in a tangled heap, on the rough wooden floor. When we finally arose, we spent the next twenty minutes picking small splinters from each other.
“Remind me to bring a blanket or quilt out here next time.”, I told Lori.
“I’ll take that to mean that there will be a next time!”, she quipped back.
“If I have my way, there’ll be many, many, next times!”, I replied.’
“Cowboy! I just heard a door shut!”, Lori blurted out, with her eyes widening.
“I didn’t hear anything.”, I replied.
“I swear! I heard a door close!”, Lori insisted. Within a few seconds, I heard a foot step on the balcony deck floor, followed by a familiar voice.
“Buenos dias Señor Tagg!” It was my housekeeper, Rosita. “Buenos días señorita.” Lori jumped and let out a surprised shriek. “I am sorry! No quiero asustar a usted!”
“Who the fuck is she?”, Lori shrieked, drawing up against me.
“No fuck! No! Soy ama de casa Rosita!”, Rosita replied.
“Buenos días Rosita. Ella es Lori. Por favor perdón nos?”, I asked.
“I work!”, Rosita said, turning back into the house.
“My housekeeper, Rosita.”, I stammered. “I forgot what day it is! I’m sorry Lori!”
“I almost shit myself!”, Lori spouted.
“She’s here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, except for holidays and her vacations. This must be Tuesday.”
“Yah think?”, Lori fired back.
“Is she used to walking in on you naked? She seemed totally unfazed by our nakedness.”
“No, this is the first time that’s happened.”
“She didn’t apologize for walking in on us naked, just for frightening me!”
“I guess maybe she doesn’t have any hang-ups about nudity.”, I said shrugging.
“She’s an awfully hot Chica, with a pretty face, and quiet an hour glass figure. You don’t see a lot of young, pretty, Latino girls going into housekeeping as a career these days.
“Are you suggesting something Lori?”, I asked.
“Ah, no. Just wondering.”
“Wondering what?”
“Wondering if you’ve been tapping that. But, if you have, that’s really none of my business. I would assume, if you had been, that it would be a thing of the past now.”
“You know, Lori, the last thing I want to do is disappoint you in anyway, but I have to disappoint you on this. I’ve never laid a hand on her. My and Rosita’s relationship is strictly, employer - employee. Of course, I consider her to be a friend too, and would do anything for her that I could, if she ever were in need. But, to answer your question, in a word, no.”
“To bad.”, Lori quipped. “That bright, nonplused personality, and that body, plus good looks. I bet she’d be a nice fuck!”
“Lori, are you trying to work around to something?”
“No. Just making an observation. In my new found, less guilt, self, my mind wanders in all
kinds of places that I used to keep it from. You know what I mean?”, she said, and giggled.
“I know what you mean, I guess.”, I replied. “But, with what few employees, that I’ve had over the years, it’s just always been my policy, to not mix employees and pleasure.”
“Is that a Tagg rule or just a policy?”
“A policy.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want you to break a Tagg rule. We already know what happens when that happens!”
“Who, says that I’m gonna break with my policy?”
“Well, you never know!”, she coyly replied, smiling and winking at me.
“Why Lori Parsons! I think that you just might have “a little thing” for Rosita.”
“I wouldn’t say that I have a thing for her, Cowboy. It’s just, that where I used to see a stop sign at the end of the street, I now see open roads that lead to places different than I would ever allow myself to think about before.”
“As usual, Lori Parsons, you are making perfect sense, and I understand exactly where you’re coming from.”
“Now, a thing, is what I have for you, Cowboy. Several things in fact.”
Such as?”, I asked.
“Well one moist, tight, thing, and these two things!”, she said, gripping her lush breasts in her hands.”
“I’m glad that you have those things, to go along with, the thing that you have for me!”, I quipped. “Now we had better get dressed before Rosita comes back.”
“Oh, I’ve got a feeling that Rosita doesn’t mind the nudity at all, Cowboy. Not at all.”
“I wasn’t wanting to actually face it, but I think you’re right.”, I commented
“Oh, I know I’m right!”, Lori said.
“Never go against a woman’s intuition! That’s my new Tagg Hill rule!”, I shot back.
“It’s not intuition, Cowboy. I have eyes!”
“Yes, much different from mine, and beautiful eyes too, I might add!”
Lori smiled at me and said, “Thanks Cowboy! I guess you’re right though. We do need to get dressed, and get my boxes picked up from the storage facility.”
On our way out the door, Rosita, asked when we would return, and offered to prepare some late lunch / early dinner, of moqueca de camarons, special for Lori. We accepted her offer and headed out for the forty-five minute drive back into New Orleans. We hoped to be back at the tree house in two hours or less.