The Sunday Club

by Nicholas Hall

Chapter 1

Robert Le Page and Company

Eddie looked around the table, taking into his scrutiny the remaining members of the Second Generation of the Sunday Club tucking into plates laden with bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage, donuts, Danish Pastries, scones, and some fresh fruit before asking, with a wave of his hands encompassing all around him as if better defining his question.

"So, Uncle Billy, how did all of this come about?"

Uncle Billy sort of twisted his face, raised an eyebrow in almost disbelief, and replied,

"Why, your older brother, Micky, provided it like he does every Sunday. You three boys own the place, you know, and he manages it! Damned good too!!"

"No," Eddie said patiently, "how and why was the Sunday Club started?"

"Here I thought," snorted Uncle Billy, "you were going to give us hell about our diet. I made certain to tell Micky to serve bacon and sausage from lean hogs and eggs from skinny hens."

Before either Eddie or I could respond, Uncle Billy continued,

"The answer might be difficult or simple, depending!" and Uncle Billy looked over at Skeeter, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate with his meal. "Remember, Skeeter, about maybe third grade or so with you perched on Pudge Smith's lap he asked you why a dog lifts its leg to piss?"

"Yeah," Skeeter laughed in reply. "I surely loved that guy."

"And," added Hardy with a lascivious laugh, "it was obvious, the way you were pegged to him on his lap, he loved you!

"Well, it's all second hand," Uncle Billy began, after the interlude with Skeeter and Hardy, "since I wasn't born until 1940, just like the rest of us, so I'll have to rely on what Uncle Lou told me and Grandma and Grandpa Thompson."

Robert LePage, about age forty-five or so, arrived for a visit to the area prior to the Civil War. Traveling with him was his son Averill Robert LePage, about ten years of age at the time, and a man servant and two young companions for young Averill. Robert let the word drift about he was interested in making some "modest" investments in the area, provided the price was right and the value appropriate for some growth in the future. He made his inquiries on the quiet side, trying to draw little attention to his presence or his mission. Robert discovered, years before, as strange as it may seem, frequenting taverns/ pubs with small eateries attached or contained therein, often provided him with gossip concerning who or what business might be in financial trouble, those fledgling businesses seeking investors, or those older establishments where the owners just might want to retire. The tavern goers also were also good sources of information concerning farming operations, timber or bottom lands generally thought to be inferior for much agriculture or development- in other words, scrub land nobody really wanted and would go for bargain basement low prices.

As he said to young Averill on many occasions, "keep a low profile, your wealth well hidden, take advantage when you can get it, and never doubt the value of the purchase of a beer or two in providing you with clues of opportunity." Robert was a bit on the shifty side, no, he was a crook, through and through and would make or take a buck anyway he could! But he was a clever crook, sly, covering his ass adequately with alibis, convincing others to do the deed for him. Not outright, understand, but with "suggestions" allowing him a "high degree of deniability," should the offender be apprehended. The strange part about all of it, LePage seemed to carry an aura of respectability!

Robert, even as crooked as a dog's hind leg, was still a shrewd and savvy business man! Some of the properties he took interest in were in "French Town," so named because it was said, true or not, this particular portion of land was settled by French traders and fur trappers, and was a poorer section of a larger river city along the Mississippi River. He claimed he wanted to be near a Riverboat landing, one of which was located there, since he made "small" investments in cargo. Some thought he might be involved in some sort of government munitions business, but it could never be verified. At any rate, Robert left after an engaging a "man of business" to keep an eye out for properties which could be purchased at a "reasonable" price and timber/ bottom land along the river. As an added request, he also "wouldn't mind having a farm or two or at least land which might be farmed."

LePage, as he was often referred to as, foresaw the drums of war building and the rapid coming of hostilities. It would be a doomed insurrection he concluded, since the agrarian South didn't have the raw materials or the manpower or the manufacturing, resource rich North possessed. As a result, he began divesting himself, at considerable profit, of his investments in the South. Those investments included large tracts of land, considerable numbers of slaves, and various banks and businesses. He didn't sell off his "silent" partnerships in the shipping business. In fact, he profited highly from it during the blockade of Southern ports.

Robert corresponded regularly with his "man of business" noting how the area grew and transformed during the Civil War. Property purchases were made in his name during his absence and signatures on bills of sales and deeds obtained by mail.

Robert and Averill returned after the Civil War ended. Robert expressing his pleasure at returning to the area since he intended on making his home there. He really had no choice since he'd sold his plantation home in the South before the War began, maintaining a residence in New Orleans during the hostilities, although living elsewhere more conducive to his business and safety. He seemed to have no shortage of cash, although he didn't flaunt it, just invested quietly. Again, he arrived with a man servant and two younger servants for Averill, now about fifteen or sixteen years of age. The companions for Averill were closer to eleven or twelve according to some sources.

One of the purchases LePage's "man of business" made for him was a tavern in Frenchtown. The tavern owner was older and wanted out. He intended to live with his daughter in another town. The property was well kept, sitting on a rise in ground which prevented it from being inundated during spring floods, with sufficient ground for expansion, parking, or any type of future development desired. Although there was a small apartment attached to the backside of the tavern, Robert chose to live in a home he purchased some two blocks away. The home was close enough to walk to his business, but far enough away not to "live" it twenty-four-seven.

Averill was definitely at an age and of sufficient vigor and development to breed anytime and anywhere! However, those he bred, deep and often, would produce no offspring- he preferred the male of the species and, when available, boys, young boys!

Robert LePage maintained an office in the tavern and conducted his business from there. He used it as his base of operation for his travels on the river and throughout the area. Averill, on the other hand, utilized the small apartment for his own nefarious uses for many years. It was there he applied his well-developed skills and sought his pleasures. If some young lad came home with an extra silver dollar or two in his pocket after making a visit to LePage's Tavern, so be it! In Frenchtown, money was often scarce, so a dollar earned in any manner was just a dollar earned.

LePage's Tavern, operating as a tavern and eatery, served a pretty decent and plentiful meal for lunch and supper. Not fancy food, just plain damned good! The fact it was a tavern and the rumors concerning some of the activities the younger LePage engaged in didn't seem to bother the patrons one bit. Robert LePage kept authorities well rewarded, kept the establishment clean, and seemed not to draw much attention otherwise.

When Averill reached the age of twenty-five or so, Robert fell (or was pushed) off the bow of a riverboat he was traveling on and drowned. Averill inherited the business and continued to maintain his father's business philosophies. The son learned his lessons well, to the point he was a much more astute and successful businessman than his father and just as clever a crook! His sexual appetites didn't diminish, even as he aged!

It was 1908 when Louis (Lou) Thompson, age thirteen, the youngest of the five Thompson boys, decided he could use a couple of silver dollars and maybe even a part-time job. Lou wandered down to LePage's Tavern in search of some coin and adventure. He knew very well what happened there and rumor had it LePage might be looking for some part-time help. Even if LePage didn't need any help, Lou figured, with his youth, good looks, and manly attributes, he might still earn a couple of bucks.

Lou was ushered, by the bartender, to the office area and told to wait outside the door while the bartender checked to see if LePage was available. While he waited, George Smith showed up to wait with him. George was the same age as Lou but really thin, narrow waisted, and a small butt. They were acquainted with each other and why not? Hell, everybody knew everybody else who lived in Frenchtown.

They didn't wait long until the bartender told them to go on into the office.

Lou and George stepped inside the room and were greeted by LePage sitting on a chair. A young, mixed-race boy, maybe eleven or so, hairless in the crotch, and immature cock and balls, sitting on LePage's lap. According to George, the boy wasn't sitting, he was anchored!

"Just about done," LePage proclaimed giving a grunt and thrust upward into the boy's butt. George looked at Lou, Lou looked back and both knew the boy just received a load and not of hay! LePage swiveled his chair around, the boy still attached to his lap, and motioned George and Lou to step closer.

"Looking for work?" he inquired, his eyes traveling up and down the boys' fronts.

Both nodded!

"Well, drop your pants and underdrawers, if you're wearing any and I'll check your qualifications."

George's pants dropped, revealing his skinny ass, but nice fat, thick, but average teen cock, and he flashed a smile and a wink at the boy who was giving George's cock the once over.

LePage reached over, hefted George's balls, rolled them around in his hand, watched George's cock begin to swell, and commented, "Cook needs some kitchen help."

He turned George around, poked a finger up George's asshole, noting George didn't flinch, and said approvingly, "Nice and tight! Cook will like that."

After giving George a slight pat on the butt, indicated Lou should step closer as well. LePage looked at the horse-hung teen, his eyes widened, he reached forward, carefully wrapping his hand around the large, long phallus and asked,

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen, Sir," Lou answered politely, as LePage skinned back the foreskin, and flicked the exposed head carefully with a finger.

"I need some office help. You know, some sort of personal assistant," LePage offered thoughtfully. "I think you're well qualified."

"You boys will start next Monday. You'll work four days a week during the summer and Friday and Saturday nights during the school year, unless we need you for something special."

Waving them off, he told them to see the bartender so he could put them on the payroll.

"So," grinned George as he and Lou left the tavern, "what do you think?"

"I think we're going to make some money!" Lou laughed back.

Lou did a little better than "make some money. Using his "assets" to his advantage, he became a favorite of LePage and in time his personal assistant and manager. When LePage died suddenly in 1918 (influenza), Lou Thompson inherited the whole shebang!

"So," Eddie asked, "what's the answer?"

"To throw its ass out of gear so it won't shit!" Uncle Billy snorted. "Why else?"

"No," responded Eddie patiently, "Why the Sunday Club?"

"Uncle Lou closed the tavern that day claiming everybody needed a day of rest and that's the day his friends and he gathered to play cards, fish, or whatever took their fancy, just like we do to this day."

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