The Courtship of Levi Moore

by Nicholas Hall

Chapter 15

"The treatment of the Negro is America's greatest and most conspicuous scandal."

(Gunnar Myrdal)

The boys slept in and I made no effort to wake them. The sky was overcast and a slight breeze was blowing the length of the lake, creating small waves or a "slight chop," if one were to describe it any other way. If they were biting, this could be an ideal day to fish walleyes, bouncing a twister tail jig baited with a leech over underwater bars and other structure where walleyes might be lurking, hopefully producing some nice fish. However, only time would tell.

Ray and Carl were the first to emerge from hibernation, wandering sleepily onto the porch were I sat enjoying a mid-morning iced tea and a piece of pound cake.

"Good morning," mumbled Carl, scratching his balls. "What's for breakfast?"

Ray, standing in the doorway listening to the conversation, yawned and stretched up his arms to take the kinks out and in doing so, his morning hard-on popped out of the fly of his boxers.

"Oops," he giggled and quickly tucked the pony back in the barn.

"How about juice, milk, and breakfast burritos? We have plenty of leftovers from yesterday and they're quick to fix. Besides, if we go fishing today, you'll be filled until we go to 'Spooners' later on. Get dressed, come back down, and give me a hand. Okay?"

Elgee and Rick came down the stairs as Carl and Ray raced up. By then I was in the kitchen starting to assemble what we might use for breakfast from the leftovers in the refrigerator.

"Any soda, you know, pop, left, Uncle Levi?" Elgee inquired.

"Check the kitchen refrigerator or the one in the pantry. Should be some cola left."

He'd been here long enough and I was relatively familiar with his likes and dislikes. Elgee, like many teens, if they didn't drink coffee or even if they did, would drink soda for breakfast or any time during the day or night. He retrieved one for Rick and one for himself.

"Want some help?" Rick offered, after taking a long swig of the cold drink.

"Sit a minute and enjoy your soda," I replied, "Ray and Carl will be back down in a minute or so and I've enlisted them as chef's helpers this morning."

Good thing I kept plenty of tortillas on hand! They each ate three and cleaned up the majority of the leftovers along with a dozen eggs. I didn't mind it one bit; growing boys needed plenty of food for growth and action. Feeding them was a pleasure and their company was delightful! Having young people around the farm seemed to keep it alive.

We'd fished together enough during their visit, the boys were familiar with the routine of readying our gear, refilling the gas tank, and securing life jackets. I gave the nod to Elgee to pilot us down the lake to the bait shop and we were off. He took great pride knowing I was confident enough and trusted him enough to run the boat safely. Rick scooted up close to him, grinned, gave Elgee's knee a squeeze, and we were moving down toward the bait shop at the end of the lake.

Bait purchased and stowed away, Elgee turned us toward the opposite end of the lake, heading us toward the boat landing where we'd start our drift. I took over handling the boat at that point so I could control speed, direction, and location of the craft using the electric trolling motor and the electronic depth/fish locator. It'd be essential in order to put our crew over fish long enough to try to entice a bite.

We drifted, fished, and shot the shit! The boys bounced twister tail jigs baited with leeches off of underwater bars, humps, rocks, and sand bottoms – anyplace with structure and seemed to hold fish lying in wait for a meal. Although I spotted plenty of fish, they all didn't bite. I guess that's why it's called fishing and not catching. The fishing was slow, but steady, picking up one or two in most likely spots. We decided to keep only those over eighteen inches long and be selective. Ray suggested Rick should leave his pants off so we could measure the fish, but Elgee decided they'd use a ruler instead.

Carl and Ray were avid fisherman and fairly successful. They were intense on catching each and every fish they could, bringing it to boat, appraising and measuring the catch before deciding whether to keep it or free it to catch another day. They made every effort not to tire the fish too much getting into the boat so it would have strength to revive quickly once released.

Elgee and Rick, on the other hand, were not quite so intense in their fishing. They were just enjoying being out in the boat in each other's company. Sitting next to each other, they laughed, giggled, touched each other, smiled, winked, and flirted. Rick probably flirted more than Elgee with him, expressing his love for his fiancé.

They were a joy to watch, reminding me so much of David and me. David used to flirt with me the same way, always seeming to want me close to him, to make contact with me. His eyes would light up like diamonds, twinkling, sparkling like waves on the lake under a bright, sunlit sky, and full of desire.

My sigh, as I remembered my love, the man who is my husband for eternity, and someone I missed terribly must've caught the attention of Elgee.

"Tired, Uncle Levi?" he asked, knowing full well it wasn't the case but trying to provide some protection or explanation for my action.

I smile wanly, shook my head, and glanced at my watch. We'd been fishing for a couple of hours without a break, except to piss over the side of the boat.

"No, but I'm getting hungry and would like to get a bite to eat."

I offered the captain's seat to Rick so he could drive us to "Spooner's" but he declined.

"Maybe later; Elgee loves to drive it so let him."

Rick showed again, his desire to please and do anything for Elgee. His reward was a happy, affectionate smile, and a kiss on his cheek from Elgee. Rick's hand, when it wasn't on Elgee's shoulder, was on his upper thigh, both of them savoring the wind in their face and absorbed with the love in their hearts. I thought I should caution them concerning distractive driving but didn't. Clearly, they excited each other in many more ways than just sexually.

"Spooner's" was busy, even mid-afternoon. I thought there'd be some easing of the crowd since it was Sunday and many of the holiday revelers and weekenders would be heading back to the Cities, jamming highways and releasing hot tempers. The lake was relatively peaceful from Sunday afternoon until early Thursday morning when the migration seemed to begin again.

There were open tables on the deck, in fact all were, so I motioned the boys to locate one while I headed for the restroom. Stepping inside "Spooner's" I noticed the crowd was mainly local, with few if any, seasonal or vacationers. The special was Pot Roast and drinks were two for one.

How stupid of me! It was the first Sunday after the Fourth. "Spooner's" celebrated twice a year this way, in the main for locals, on the first Sunday after the Fourth and the first Sunday after Labor Day. I quickly stepped to the deck, told the boys we were going to eat inside and find a table, since there were a few open.

Returning from the restroom, Rick wanted to know what was going on, pot roast and two for one drinks. I explained it was the annual celebrations held here each year. I asked Tom one time, after they'd been doing this for several years, where they got the idea.

"I saw on the National News one time about a town in Wisconsin, a place called Minocqua I believe, where the locals lined up their chairs along the highway at the end of the Labor Day weekend, and waved goodbye to the departing vacationers and summer people heading home or south for the winter."

"I think," he continued, "those departing thought the locals were sad to see them leave and looked forward to them returning another year. If the truth be known, I'd suspect they're probably happy with full cash register tills and happy to have the peace and quiet again."

Hence, I explained to the boys, the celebration here for the locals. It's not advertised and we all just know there's going to be pot roast, with all the necessary side dishes, and the two for one drinks. Tom and Mike slow roasted huge chunks of beef shoulder and rounds to a point of almost falling apart.

"There are other items on the menu," I advised, "but take the pot roast. It's melts in our mouth and the portions are more than generous. If we're lucky and they're not too tired, Tom and Mike just might play and sing a little after everyone is served."

Tom and Mike did play for a while, long enough for Rick and Elgee to dance and for Elgee to dance a slow dance, a waltz actually, with me. He was light on his feet and reminded me of David who was a fantastic dancer as well. Tom on the guitar and Mike on the violin were talented and made dancing quite easy and enjoyable. The main difference between dancing with Elgee and David, other than age, if the dance floor was darkened, such as in the evening, during slow dances, David would erotically rub his crotch against mine, bringing me to a cock-stand and vulnerable to stimulation. His movement of his hard shaft, even contained in his pants, rubbing up against mine, contained in like manner, would stimulate me to the very edge of orgasm, then he'd stop rubbing. For me, it was a prelude to a super night in bed making love once we got home.

Only once did we have to leave early. Thank god, it was summer and warm out. David rubbed a little too long, I thrust back a little too vigorously, and I spewed in my shorts. Hustling to the parking lot, my hands covering the soaked blotch on the front of my pants, I stepped next to our truck, stripped naked, wiped my cum-covered crotch with my shorts, rolled up my pants, and slipped, naked, into the front seat. It was dark so I figured no one would notice me on the way home.

Well, someone did, and he was driving. He just didn't seem to be able to keep his hands to himself, gently fondling, manipulating, and masturbating me. I shot again, he pulled over, used his handkerchief to clean me up, and made ready to head for home. I stopped him by unzipping his pants, extracting his long, thick hard-on, and giving him a right proper blow-job! All of this didn't stop us from coupling again, several times, when we got home.

The afternoon was fun giving the boys, especially Elgee and Rick, the opportunity to meet many of our neighbors on the lake, surrounding homes, and some of the small farms in the area. It took little introduction on my part, as people dropped by our table to visit since word of my great-nephew and his fiancé spread quickly through our resident community.

They received a warm welcome and, in the most part, were readily accepting of Elgee and Rick's sexual orientation. There were some I knew who found it somewhat disturbing, but yet were cordial and understanding. Those who weren't, simply stayed away from our table but displayed no overt hostility toward the boys. Times have changed since David and I moved up here permanently, as it should.

We fished our way home, trolling mainly for Northern Pike, hooking and keeping several nice ones, as well as some larger Walleyes. Rick, Elgee, and I cleaned the fish while Carl and Ray stowed away our rods and life jackets and refrigerating the leeches and worms while putting the remaining minnows in a floating minnow container. They also washed the fillets, sorted them, bagged them, and put them in the freezer while we cleaned up the fish house and buried the guts in the garden.

I thought we had a successful day. Evidently the boys all did as well, thanking me profusely for the day's activities. Rick and Elgee, it seemed, really enjoyed their time at "Spooner's" noting "the next time we're up, it's going to be a regular stop for us."

Dusk was beginning to settle on the lake by the time we all finished showering, found our places on the porch, after securing sodas for the boys and a Brandy Old-fashioned for me, settled back to relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. There was no way I could avoid continuing my story since the boys, seated on the floor, arrayed in a semi-circle in front of my chair, gave evidence of their interest.

The only distraction I had, other than the hum of gathering mosquitoes outside of the screen trying to find an opening, entering, and attacking us with vengeance, was the group seated in front of me. All four chose to wear only their underwear, evidently thinking it was a warm night calling for minimal covering or deciding who the hell would notice or care! I noticed, how could I help not? Their boxers didn't quite cover everything, especially if they brought their knees up, which they all did, or spread their legs. All four cocks and eight balls were in full view, with their owners seemed to display with no hint of embarrassment or concern. Rick was by far the longest and the thickest while Ray was smaller, but definitely heading in the major cock class direction. The de la Fuente boys had long foreskins, but nicely shaped, covering their cock heads nicely and extending delicately and shapely just beyond the head.

I glanced a final look at Rick, before beginning. God, that boy is hung!

"Let's see," I began, "where did I leave off?"

"You just bought the 'Popper' and took it home," offered Carl.

"Oh, yeah, so I did."

Late winter and early spring seemed to become busy for us. I was doing well in my classes, although they did involve considerable amounts of my time, in addition to the responsibilities I'd taken on at home. Generally I fixed the meals with David and Matt's help, as he now preferred being referred to. The three of us pitched in when it came to doing housework, laundry, shopping, and general maintenance such as snow shoveling. I still maintained my class schedule so I'd be home when Matt came home from school. Jacob and Matt usually walked home together, stopping at our house for some time to study together.

Well, it was not always "studying" but they certainly were broadening their education. They forgot to close Matt's bedroom door one afternoon. I needed something from our bedroom and as I walked by Matt's, I glanced in. Both boys were stark naked, Jacob stretched out face and belly down on the floor with Matt stretched the full length of him, belly to back.

What caused me to look in was Matt, head and face over one of Jacob's shoulder, ass cheeks clenching and his crotch shoved as far forward as he could without taking up permanent residence in Jacob's lower bowel, murmuring,

"I'm cumming, Jacob."

"Me too," was the strained reply.

I walked swiftly to our bedroom and waited what I thought was sufficient time for them to disengage and dress, before walking back down the hall. Either I didn't wait long enough or they didn't care if I saw them, since both boys were standing, still naked, with Jacob's cock slowly deflating while Matt was still stiff as a two by four. He was developing quite nicely I thought and would soon be equal to his father I thought.

Neither was bashful, attempting to cover their manliness when they saw me, instead they both smiled and gave me a little wave. I continued down the hall, but overheard Jacob ask, "Again?"

They loved each other as much as I loved David and were just as horny!

I decided to change my course of study the next fall to an American Literature/English major and add Spanish as a minor. I missed the language and wanted to continue in it. It might open up other opportunities for me, who knows.

We were also busy preparing for the upcoming summer season of carnival travel. David arranged for the "Popper" to be repainted with our logo, "Coleman Enterprises, LLC" on the sides and brighten it up. We debated putting the step-van for sale and decided against it, deciding to store it for a while. I thought it might come in handy at some point in time. We transferred the small freezer and some shelving to the big truck. We would store supplies for the "Popper" in there along with David's "bear pitch" joint and supplies and his nickel pitch, a flat or center joint, he used when someone else was pushing teddy bears.

I would run the "Popper" and David the other joints. I'd tow the travel trailer we'd call home on the road and David the "Popper" with the big truck. We were pondering who we might ask to work as our fourth person for the summer so we'd have two people per joint. Matt suggested Jacob – duh!

Our response was simply, fine if his parents would approve. Of course, the boys put on the full court press to try and make it happen. After much discussion, reassurances, and concerns on both sides, his parents agreed. Matt was excited, Jacob jubilant, David concerned but pleased, and I was my usual worry-wart!

The four of us made a quick weekend trip to Spirit View in early spring. David had a couple of land purchases to finalize and he wanted my signature on the papers as well has his, insuring my ownership if anything should happen. Once piece of land had lake frontage and the other was a small, eighty acre farm, mainly hay ground and some oats. The price was right, the cash flow appeared to be adequate, so we bought them, and headed back home on Sunday.

As the end of the school year approached, we became busier, ordering and loading up on supplies for both joints. David had the prices changed on the small billboards for each joint, raising the prices for items from the "Popper" by ten to fifty cents and changed his nickel pitch to a dime pitch. The bear pitch went from a quarter to fifty cents.

We also spent a great deal of time with Jacob and his parents explaining how things worked, what our schedule was, what precautions we all had to take, and how to contact us. Jacob would give his folks a call once a week from a pay phone to keep them up to date and happy. Jacob would be covered by the company insurance but we had his parents sign a release and consent forms.

He was excited as well as Matt. David and I decided, rather than have them work alone together, we'd have one of them with either David or me and switch every now and then. Matt would work with David until Jacob became familiar with the "Popper," learning how to make regular and caramel corn, snow cones, and lemonade. I didn't think making change would be a problem, but he needed to know how we handled the money, both "hard" and "soft." Coins were rolled in paper rollers and bills bundled and wrapped in bank wrappers. He had to be cautioned to be wary of scams of the sort where people would swear they gave you a five and didn't, how to leave the money received in plain sight until the change was made, and how to keep the large bills in a separate bag, out of sight from the public.

"Early in the day," I cautioned, "try not to take large bills for small purchases. Always plead you don't have enough change. If they persist, give them all small bills and small coins in return, acting as if the mark or customer is about to break you. Many times, they'll say to keep the small coins and only take the bills. It increases our profits."

"So that's why prices always end up with odd numbers, such as forty-eight cents or ninety-five cents or something," he laughed.

"Yep, but we say it's the taxes we have to charge."

"Devious," he grinned, "but profitable."

Jacob caught on fast!

David and I spent time with Jacob and Matt showing them how to make the popcorn, caramel corn, snow cones, and lemonade. While we worked we also spent some time on personal precautions they should take. Matt was already a veteran and was determined to protect Jacob. It still didn't hurt to warn them. I really emphasized how important it was to never travel alone, always together.

"Jacob," I warned, "you're not built like a linebacker, really good looking, and there are those who'd see you as vulnerable and easy to attack."

"You mean fuckable," snorted Matt, deadly serious.

I had to agree and with a nod toward Matt, insisted, "You know the routine and where the dangers lay, since you're pretty damned street wise. Your job will be to show your boyfriend the ropes and protect him. Okay?"

The small freezer, loaded with blocks of ice, generator in the back of the pickup truck inside the topper on it to protect it from weather, the "Popper" hooked to the big truck and the travel trailer hooked to pickup truck, we left early one morning for our first gig, in a small Northeast Iowa town. Jacob rode with David and Matt with me. It gave David an opportunity to continue his education of Jacob.

We were up and running by the time the grounds opened to the public. The crowds were moderate, thankfully, the first day and night, but it didn't seem to bother "Hoover," as Jacob was now called. It was a name Matt gave him and we didn't really need to ask why.

He explained to Jacob none of us, except me, used our real names. "It gives the pervs something to glom on to and maybe stalk us."

My name stayed the same, since most of the carnies knew me as "Levi." Whenever I was asked my last name, I always responded, "Strauss." No insult intended to the composer or the blue jeans manufacturer.

It didn't take us long to fall into our routine. Jacob became adept at counting and rolling up the day's take and, although he was capable of doing so, didn't feel comfortable recording things in our accounting books. He left that up to either David or me. Both boys knew very well not everything we took in went into the books. Some of it disappeared as cash in a separate bank bag.

I generally took a break to fix our meals and when I did, Matt and Jacob manned the "Popper." It was safer for them, surrounded by metal sides and lockable doors, than the pitch joint. They'd go back to travel trailer for lunch or I'd bring it to them. Our "family" time together was at night after we closed or in the mornings having breakfast at one of the local organizations food booth.

Our travel trailer was self-contained, carrying its own water supply and tanks for waste, so we had our own shower, comfortable places to sleep, and air-conditioning when it was hot. David and I had the master bedroom in the back and Matt and Jacob shared the hide-a-bed couch in the front.

I was happy as a tick on a fat dogs back! Traveling and working with David seemed like we could conquer the world and buy Mars and Jupiter for ornaments. He was always so up-beat, optimistic about everything, taking every opportunity to turn a buck so he could provide for Matt and me. I was so, so fortunate having someone like him, someone who could make me forget my problems and take my worries away.

We were having a fantastic run with no problems and high cash revenues, until toward the end of July. We were playing a three day stand in the Southwest part of the State. It was new on the playbill so we weren't really certain how things would go. The crowds were pretty good, yet very conservative, not spending much money on the pitch joint, and basically white. They appeared odd, to me, when encountering some of our ride operators or general workers or joint owners who were people of color. I just didn't feel right, especially with Matt and Jacob always so close when not working. Both boys were extremely good-looking and one was white and the other not so white.

I couldn't put my finger on it and I wish now I could have.

The second day of the run, I began to notice groups of young men, some teens and some older strolling the grounds. I had some very unsettling vibes concerning one group in particular. Stopping near or walking by workers or ride "jocks" who were people of color, they'd say something. I couldn't hear what was said, but the group would laugh and walk on. I was growing more and more concerned for Matt and Jacob's safety.

Breakfast the next morning, the carnival owner joined us at our table.

"There are some young local cowboys or tough boys making some pretty nasty remarks to some of my guys and gals, especially those non-white. I thought I'd better caution you, King, to keep a close eye on Cracker and Hoover. I don't trust those young red-necks around here. None of them are teens, most, I think are early twenties or the far end of their teens. Anyway, they're all grown, stupid, but adult. If you hear a cry for help, come running, if you can break away."

He turned to Matt and Jacob, "Hoover, you and Cracker stay together. Don't go anywhere alone."

He left us to continue his visit with others in the breakfast tent.

David asked, "Matt, you and Jacob having any problems when you're not with us?"

Matt was more than street wise, he was a graduate of that particular institution!

"Yeah!" Matt responded. "There's that group of six or eight I really don't trust. They make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. If I was still on the street, I'd find a safe place or be packing heat."

The particular group he was referring to were the same ones King and I had concerns about. Matt said they were directing remarks toward Jacob and him if they were walking somewhere during the day and they were around. At night, the group was freer with their insults and racially charged remarks, referring to Matt as "boy" and laugh about the "n----r" boy with additional comments concerning his anatomy and how "uppity" he seemed working around white folks.

It was becoming a pretty hostile environment and we'd be glad to be well-shed of this community and move on. We had three more play dates before we called it a season, headed home, cleaned everything up, stored it away, and headed for Spirit View Farm for a well –deserved break before school started.

It was hot, damned hot, and our last night before we moved. I was finishing the close up on the "Popper" and Jacob was over at David's joint to hook up with Matt and head to the trailer. About to lock up, I was startled by Jacob screaming, "Levi, help! They've got Matt and are going to hang him!"

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead