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Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part15 (conclusion & epilogue)
by Acton
He and Mike embraced very warmly, and shared a deep kiss. He couldn't resist running his right hand down the front of Mike's shorts and grabbing his big fat penis. Squeezing it a little, he said, "Mike, I'll never forget the times we shared together, and I feel that we'll always be friends." Turning to me, he said, "As for you, Mikey, I'll be picking you up on American 2337 next Sunday night at Denver International." Steve would be meeting me, taking me to Cheyenne and then to the family ranch, where I'd meet Mark; and two days later he'd drive me down to the dude ranch at Rand. I know we had great hopes and expectations of a hot, hot summer. How that summer turned out, and what it led to, is a story for another time.
Down in the parking area, Steve removed the tow bar, and folded it and stowed it in the Boxster's compact boot, along with his backpack. He had about 740 miles to cover to get back to Cheyenne; and two days later he'd pick up Mark at last, also down in Stapleton. Giving us each another embrace and another kiss, he got into the Porsche and pulled on his baseball cap, and with a final wave, pulled out of the lot and headed for the east-bound ramp of I-80.
I climbed up into the cab of the rental truck, and my uncle took the passenger side. We had about 480 miles to go before Mike's 'joyous reunion' with his Allie, and in fact my reunion with Alice was only 8 hours away. Although we covered a lot of territory, going over everything that had happened in the last four days, which so profoundly reshaped my life, the principal topic of conversation was about Alice, and the kind of woman she was, and what to expect.
There was no doubt that Alice had meant everything she had said to Mike about there always being a place in their lives for me; but the exact shape of that place depended upon how the three of us worked out the details, and it would be a complex and subtle matter. Mike said that I shouldn't expect to just jump into their bed, but that that would come in time, provided I proved to her that in reality I had the character and the qualities of manhood that Mike had represented to her that I possessed, that I was one in whom she could vest every confidence and trust; and of course that I respected her and her position in Mike's life.
It was late afternoon by the time we pulled into the driveway of Alice's condo in Portolo Valley, near Palo Alto. What happened in the next four nights and days was truly interesting and absolutely remarkable, but an accounting of these events constitutes another story.
The day after we got there, there was a delivery to Alice from Gumps in San Francisco. It was 12-armed 2,000 piece antique Venetian chandelier. The engraved card said Stephen Rutland Manners, and it was endorsed in hand: "Best wishes to a lovely bride and to a very lucky man." It was incredibly gorgeous, and must have cost $10,000 at least, and maybe twice that. Mike had not too much trouble explaining the story to Alice, she was wonderfully understanding, but it turned out to be somewhat complicated think of how to explain this dramatic gift to the gathering wedding guests. They couldn't quite say it came from some uncle or some old roommate or something of that sort, since there were plenty of real relatives on both sides present at the wedding, and plenty of real old roommates, too. So they just left it in the box, and did not display it with the other gifts; but once they moved into their new house, they installed it in their dining room, and never a day passed in which they didn't see the magnificent object, and in its brilliance think of Steve.
These events took place in the early summer six years ago. For anyone who has read this account this far and who is interested in where Mike and Alice and Steve and Mark and I are, and what we are doing, just drop an email to acton5000@yahoo.com and I will give you the complete epilogue.
As for Scotty, he copied Mike's address from the motel registry, and every year sends him a Christmas card, updating him. He finished at UNLV with a major in hospitality, and now he manages the hotel where he used to work, and since it's owned by his parents, he has plans for buying it from them. In the course of years, he has had encounters with quite a number of guests, but none of them could ever compare with the greatest hour and a half in his life. Someday one of us will find ourselves in Battle Mountain, again, and we will surely look him up.
If you have read this novella to the end, thank you and if you liked anything about it, I would appreciate your dropping me a note at acton5000@yahoo.com
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Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 1
My mother married young; I was born when she was only 18. Her younger brother was only 6 when I was born. We lived only three doors away from mom's folks, and my uncle was like a god to me. When I was 9, he was 15, and kayaking in the Pennsylvania mountains, and shooting rats at the Doylestown borough dump. He was the star on his high school baseball team, an enormously talented second
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 2
This wasn't the typical 'motel,' but a 'motor hotel,' and our room was on the third floor, and its easterly windows faced a large pasture; we had not pulled the drapes closed and morning sun filled the room and slanted across the bed--and across me, still safely in the arms of my dear uncle, my face buried in his fuzzy chest. The raking rays brightly picked out his manly, but angelic face, and
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 3
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Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 4
We stopped in Galena, Illinois that night; early enough to check into a motel, and quickly getting some directions from the desk clerk, went out for a brisk four-mile run around the pretty old town. We ran in just the same shorts we’d being “wearing” all day. My uncle was a regular jogger, and in great shape, but since I’d been in training for three sports all the year round, I found it was no
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 5
Mike dialed Alice’s number, and getting her machine, left a message. We went out to grab some supper, and, getting back to the room, we stripped down for bed, planning to get up early the next day: We had a long haul, planning to make it all the way to Cheyenne. We crawled into the queen bed, leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder, and divided up this morning’s New York Times. The phone rang. Mike
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 6
The next morning, I awoke spooned with my uncle, my back and rear tight against his firm but plush chest and belly, one of his wonderful arms draped around my waist; and my head lay upon the bicep of his other, folded arm. Leaving his left arm on my stomach where it was, he pulled the other one away, and leaned upon his elbow, and tenderly kissed my ear, and whispered, “Good morning, Little
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 7
We had been in the truck for hours and hours and were ready for some stretching. We stopped at a big rest stop, and after answering the call of nature, Mike went to the back of the truck and rummaged through the cardboard box of miscellaneous stuff he’d cleaned out of his closet back home and grabbed his old football. The three of us (in just our running shorts) ran a few laps around the picnic
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 8
Upstairs, Mike and I climbed into the big king bed in the guest room, frankly exhausted. And moments later, just as Mike was getting ready to click off the bedside lamp, Steve, like us totally nude, entered the room and said, “Guys, can I sleep with you?” With the brightest of smiles we kicked back the covers and reached out and pulled him in. Three things I already knew about Steve, who was
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 9
As he lay between my legs, Steve and I were still grasping each other’s arms. His arms were extended over his head to meet mine, as I reached down to hold his. He let loose of my left arm and reached over and took Mike’s right hand in his, and squeezed both Mike’s hand and my right arm. He said, “The other thing I want is that I can’t stand to part from you guys yet. I want to stay with you
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part10
Steve had emptied out his backpack and put in a clean tee shirt and shorts, his little toilet kit, and he was ready to roll, almost. He also stuck in a big envelope. Outside, he asked Mike to back the truck up to the garage, and he gestured to a large outbuilding close by. It had a conventional door on one end, and four overhead doors on each long side of the building. Steve and I entered
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part11
“So what about this ranch?” I asked, changing the conversation’s direction. “Well,” Steve said, “I’d better start at the beginning. My mom’s folks own a ranch. Technically, I suppose, you’d have to say they own two ranches, but they are side by side and these days operated as one. They located in Carbon County. Rawlins is the county seat; we went through there about two hours after we
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part12
During a cross-country drive together, Mikey, a studly 18-year old finds himself intimate for the first time with Mike, his namesake 24-year old uncle whom he's idolized all his life. Steve is the 20-year old collegiate gymnast who hitches a ride with them. As I-80 threaded its way through the Rockies and made its descent into the basin of the Great Salt Lake, we were totally engrossed in the
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part13
During a cross-country drive together, Mikey, a studly 18-year old finds himself intimate for the first time with Mike, his namesake 24-year old uncle whom he's idolized all his life. Steve is the 20-year old collegiate gymnast who hitches a ride with them. "So," Steve asked, "Mikey, tell me what do you know about this dude ranch? And what kinda experience do you have with horses?"
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part14
Part 14. During a cross-country drive together, Mikey, a studly 18-year old finds himself intimate for the first time with Mike, his namesake 24-year old uncle whom he's idolized all his life. Steve is the 20-year old collegiate gymnast who hitches a ride with them. We all awoke as the bright, early morning sun stole into the room. Mike and I were in each others' arms, and Steve's front
Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part15 (conclusion & epilogue)
After Mike and Steve had their shower, and they dressed, this time in tee shirts and shorts, it was at last time to part. Steve drew a big envelope from his backpack, and handed it to Mike. "It's a set of photos of me, and a some of me and Mark together. I have your addresses, and as soon as I have developed and printed the pix I shot back home, I'll mail you copies." He and Mike embraced
My Young Uncle Mike and English Crafty Hands, Part 1
This is the account of an incident that occurred to my then 24-year-old uncle, Mike, late in May, in London. Mike and his fiancée, Alice, are principals in the series Alice, My Uncle and Me, and Cross-Country with My Uncle. He got on at the Knightsbridge tube station. He was remarkably good looking, after the English fashion. Trim, close to six feet, probably about 25, with light brown hair
My Young Uncle Mike and English Crafty Hands, Part 2
Piers fixed the right ankle restraint, and then the left, and Mike was fully displayed in all his glory and beauty. In Piers’ earphones, he heard the familiar disembodied voice giving the reading, averaging the current inputs from the spectators moving their dials, but what the voice was saying was, in Piers’ experience, almost never heard: “Nine point five. [pause] Nine point six. [pause].
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