Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fiction, Science Fiction,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - On Earth, Sid is a college student who has a very odd uncle. When his uncle dies and leaves him his house, Sid learns that he has inherited more than a home. In the closet of the study is a portal to the planet Crossroads and his caretaker, Sally. From Crossroads is a portal to Chaos, a planet with Damsels in Distress. It is up to Sid to rescue the poor Damsels in Distress and claim his heroic rewards.
While a man may make plans for the future, it is the future that makes and executes its plans for the man. Call it destiny or fate, it doesn't matter. The future is indifferent to the desires of a single individual. If one is lucky, the plans of the man and the plans of the future coincide.
It was a Monday when major changes in the life of Sid Jones began. It was the first day of classes at the community college and Sid was attending his very first class, Freshman English. This was a required course taught by an attractive instructor by the name Professor Susan Smith. She called out the roll, one name at a time and, as names were called, students would raise a hand or answer, "Here."
The attitudes exhibited by the students ranged from bored to interested, but none of the students seemed to show the instructor the level of respect due a person with her credentials. It was as though most of them viewed her as a glorified high school teacher, rather than a highly educated college professor. Perhaps it was his military training, but Sid found himself viewing his classmates with a certain amount of disdain. The instructor called out, "Sid Jones?"
In a deep voice rolling voice that often surprised people, Sid answered, "Here, Professor Smith."
As many of the women in the class turned to look at him with interest as a potential dating partner, the instructor looked at Sid with a much more discerning eye. She noted his short military haircut, his age, and his upright posture. His ruddy skin suggested a Mediterranean heritage. The young man was clearly in excellent physical form, judging by his weight and basic build. All of that was overshadowed by the intensity with which he was watching her.
She knew it wasn't fair, but she was used to sizing up individual students on the first day of class. She had seen so many of them over the past few years that she was seldom wrong in her assessment. Most were passing time, but this young man was different. In the back of her mind, she decided that he would either be a very tough student who would challenge her on every point or a very good student who would do the assignments without complaint. She hoped it would be the latter. No one noticed the slight hesitation in calling the roll, her inspection did not last more than just a moment before she continued.
When the roll was finished, she handed out the course syllabus and proceeded to explain what the students could expect to learn throughout the semester. Sid read it very carefully as she described the course material and the assignments. After she had finished her introductory spiel, she asked, "Are there any questions?"
One of the coeds in class raised her hand and asked, "Do we really have to read all of that stuff by Friday and write a paper?"
Sid shook his head in disgust knowing that the instructor wouldn't have included it in the syllabus if she didn't expect them to do it. He listened as the instructor answered, "No. You don't have to read that stuff or write a paper. I'll be happy to give you an F for the assignment."
A wide smile broke out over his face as he looked at the expression on the face of the coed. He had seen that same expression during boot camp when a recruit would balk at an exercise only to have it doubled on him. Instead of twenty-five push-ups, they would find themselves doing fifty.
The coed noticed his grin and spat back, "What are you smiling about?"
Sid shook his head and turned to face the instructor rather than make the mistake of responding. There was a wry smile on her face, as if she had expected him to answer the question. She prompted him by saying, "You can answer her question."
"Thank you, Professor," he replied. Taking a deep breath and turning to face the coed, he answered, "You have just learned the first fact of life."
"And what is that?"
With a wry smile, he answered, "Life is not fair."
The instructor chuckled at his answer. She followed up with the logical question by asking him, "What is the second fact of life?"
Sid felt like a recruit that was getting set up for a fall by a Sergeant. It was his experience that the one who spoke up was singled out for extra attention, usually attention of a negative sort. He answered, "No one is exempt from death."
The instructor had expected him to give the trite response that complaining about the first fact of life would accomplish nothing. His serious answer surprised her. It became clear that this young man would give deeper answers to questions than she normally received from students.
The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a security guard. The man stuck his head in the classroom and asked, "Is there a Sid Jones here?"
"Yes, sir," answered Sid as he raised a hand calling attention to himself. He asked, "Is there something I can do for you?"
The guard looked around the room hesitating to answer the question in front of the entire class. The instructor was looking at him with a frown for having interrupted her class. Finally, he chose to report the message and blurted out, "A Mr. Gerald Jones has been taken to the hospital."
Nodding to himself, Sid said, "I assume that he has asked me to attend to him as soon as my obligations are completed here."
A very surprised look crossed the guard's face as he read the rest of the note. He replied, "That's exactly what the message says."
"Thank you for delivering the message, sir," said Sid in a tone that was both thankful and dismissive at the same time. He turned his attention to the instructor.
The obvious dismissal surprised the guard. As he closed the door, he called out, "You're welcome."
The class was totally silent as though expecting Sid to rise and leave the room. Even the instructor was surprised that he didn't jump up and leave. Finally, she asked, "Aren't you going there now?"
Sid looked surprised at the question and then answered, "No, Professor Smith. My obligations here are not yet completed. There are still thirty minutes left to this class and I have a History class after this one."
"He may be dying even as we speak."
"I understand that Professor Smith," replied Sid. The idea that his uncle might be dying hurt like a knife twisting in his gut. The discipline instilled within him by his Uncle Gerald kept him in his seat despite an overwhelming desire to leave.
"So go to him," said Susan Smith, concerned that he was denying himself something that he needed.
"Professor Smith, I can not do that. Uncle Gerald expects me to complete my obligations here. For me to do otherwise would disappoint him. I shall not dishonor myself by disappointing him," replied Sid with an iron in his deep voice. His posture and tone conveyed the message that arguing with him was hopeless.
The deep voice, the iron in his words, and the fire in his eye literally took Susan's breath away and it took her a minute to recover her composure. Despite years of teaching hundreds of students, this was the first time in her life that she had ever heard anyone talk about honor in that fashion. It reminded her of something that a knight of the round table would say in a King Arthur story. Rather than argue, she said, "So be it."
After his history class, Sid went to the hospital since his obligations at school had been met. He entered the room to find his Uncle Gerald waiting for him. The old man lay in bed, head propped up by the raised end of the bed. Speaking at a volume that was normal for most people, Gerald asked, "You finished your classes?"
"Yes, Sir," replied Sid in a loud voice that bordered on a shout. Talking in a loud voice was necessary since the old man was partially deaf as a result of an injury acquired during World War II at the Battle of the Bulge. It was clear to Sid that old man was feeling pretty weak, since he normally spoke at a volume that was just below a shout.
The old man, despite the oxygen tube running to his nose, smiled at Sid. Eyes twinkling, he said, "Good for you, young man. I'm proud of you."
"Thank you sir," replied Sid. Looking over his Uncle, he took in the heart monitor, oxygen tube, and intravenous feeds. He asked, "What happened?"
"Heart is giving out," replied Gerald. Knowing that his nephew would insist on full medical treatment for his condition, he added, "I told them not to operate, that it was against my religion."
"Why?" asked Sid concerned that his uncle was not in his right mind. The reason for not operating was a lie since his Uncle was a good Catholic and there were no religious reasons not to get treated.
Gerald's expression got very soft as he answered, "I'm an old soldier and my tour of duty is done. It is time for younger men like yourself to take over. I'd prefer to go out fighting, but entering a battlefield now would be committing suicide. You will respect my wishes?"
Although the idea of Uncle Gerald dying upset him, he understood the old man well enough to know that arguing would do no good. With real sadness in his voice, he answered, "Yes, Uncle Gerald. I'll respect your wishes despite the fact that I want you to live more than anything else in the world."
Gerald loved Sid like he was his own son. He had lived his life on Earth as a bachelor and never had any children, at least none that anyone here knew about. The old man laughed as he replied, "You're a good young man. I think you're the only one in the family that feels that way."
With a suddenness that startled Sid, Uncle Gerald fell asleep. Concerned, Sid seated himself in a chair by the bed to watch over the old man. As he waited and watched, he remembered some episodes of his past where his uncle had been a key player.
When he was fifteen, his parents had decided to stop paying for his Karate and Fencing lessons because they couldn't see how that would make money. His uncle had asked him what he was going to do about the situation. Sid was sure that the old man had expected him to ask for the money and had replied that he would take care of it himself. Later, Sid had gone to the instructors and worked out a deal in which he would work two hours for every hour of instruction. He didn't know for years that his uncle had worked behind the scenes to make sure that his deal would be accepted. When he had confronted his uncle about it, his uncle had replied, "I won't give a man money to solve his problems, but I'll sure as hell will help him as he works to an honest solution."
When Sid had graduated high school early, he was faced with the problem of how to pay for his college education. Again his uncle had asked him what he was going to do about the situation. At the time, the Army was advertising a program to save money for college, so Sid had joined up. He spent the next four years in the service of his country. His uncle, proud that his nephew was serving his country, had been the only member of the family that had shown up to see him off to basic training.
He had seen a little action in Desert Storm, but most of his time in the Middle East had been spent waiting and training in the desert. It was a little embarrassing to be considered a veteran, since his actual involvement was less than two days of capturing soldiers that surrendered without firing a shot. His uncle had assured him that it was all part of being a soldier.
Discharged from the Army, he returned home. The only one waiting for him was his Uncle Gerald. The old man was proud that his nephew had gotten to see action and experienced war first hand. His parents had allowed him to return home, although they begrudged the fact that he was going to be living with them. They even charged him rent as a way of letting him know that they didn't appreciate being put upon by him. The fact of the matter was that they didn't like how close he was to Uncle Gerald.
Entering the community college had been one of the few points of contention between Sid and his uncle. In a very uncharacteristic move, his uncle had volunteered to pay for him to attend the State University, but Sid had refused. Secretly his uncle had been very pleased with Sid's attitude and was proud when Sid had told him, "A lesson earned is worth two lessons given."
Despite his pleasure at his nephew's stance, he had never acknowledged that to the young man. The day after Sid had made his stand Gerald had changed his will. It was no less favorable to Sid, but the changes were intended to make Sid's life much easier.
It was two hours later when Uncle Gerald woke from his impromptu nap. He looked over at Sid, fully expecting the young man to be there by his bedside and was not disappointed by what he found. He asked, "When do you have to go to your job?"
Sid glanced at his watch and replied, "In about two hours."
"I expect you go to work," replied the old man in a voice that was even weaker than before.
Staring at his uncle and seeing the weakness of the old man, the young man nodded his head and replied, "Yes, sir."
Smiling at the respectful tone of voice used by his nephew, Uncle Gerald looked over at him and said, "I'm so proud of you. You're one of the few young men of this generation that understands responsibility and respects obligations. I want you to know that my respect and love for you has only grown over the years. Nothing pleased me more than your decision to pay your own way through school."
With eyes watering, Sid sat in his chair speechless. His uncle very seldom gave praise and this was the first time that his uncle had admitted to loving him. He replied, "Uncle Gerald, I've loved you like a father my whole life. You've taught me to be the man that I am and for that I love and respect you."
Gerald knew that his time on this planet was coming to an end and there was so much that he wanted to tell Sid. Sadly, he knew that he had waited too long. It would be up to Elizabeth to tell the young man all that he needed to know. He said, "My time is limited so listen carefully. When I am dead, open the safe in my office. The combination is your birthday. There is much that you need to know and the papers inside the safe will tell you where to go to learn it."
"I shall do as you ask."
The old man's mood changed suddenly as a sadness washed over him. Sid was concerned by the sudden change in mood, he had never been present when his uncle was that sad. Uncle Gerald said, "Tell Elizabeth that I loved her. I know you've never met her, but you will. She was the one true love of my life."
The mysterious Elizabeth had finally shown up in the conversation. Sid had wondered how long it would take. His uncle had always talked about Elizabeth, but no one had ever seen her. Even he had doubted her existence, but he bit his tongue and didn't say anything. The old man looked at him with a sharp eye and said, "Wait until you get your own caretaker and you'll understand everything. I only suggest that you take great care in picking one out. She'll be the most important person in your life."
"Tell Elizabeth that I love her," said his uncle. The old man fell asleep as he uttered the last word. Glancing at his watch, Sid was concerned about whether he should go to work or stay here. His uncle stirred and murmured, "Get to work, I won't die for another two days. I promise."
Sid watched him fall asleep again and left the room when it was time for him to leave for work. His job as a security guard at a local mall didn't pay well, but it gave him time to think and to work on homework. As he walked through the mall, he wondered what his uncle meant by the term caretaker. The continued reference to Elizabeth had convinced most of the family that his uncle was mad as a hatter. He had never shared that opinion, knowing that his uncle was very grounded in reality, but it did make him wonder.
On Wednesday Sid attended his English and History classes. His English Professor asked about his uncle before class and expressed her surprise that he attended class knowing that his uncle lay dying in the hospital. Sid had informed her that he had spent every free minute with his uncle and that there was nothing he could do there.
After his classes were over, Sid headed directly to the hospital. He didn't expect his uncle to make it through the afternoon. His uncle had not said a word since Monday, sleeping through the night and then passing into a coma the following morning. His heart labored to push blood through veins that were too clogged to support the volume needed to keep his brain alive.
A Catholic Priest was waiting for Sid when he arrived at the room. Sid watched silently as the priest gave his uncle last rites. It did not take the priest long to perform the ritual, the ritual was short intended to allow the priest to finish it prior to a person dying. Unfairly, Sid felt like the priest had been going through the motions almost perfunctorily. In reality, there was nothing that could be done to make that ceremony anything but sad.
The priest hadn't been gone for more than twenty minutes when his uncle died, his last breath sounding like a contented sigh. Sid held the old man's hand as a tear escaped and slid down his cheek. It was hard to accept that the only person in his life that had loved him was gone.
The nurse, responding to the alarm on the heart monitor, stepped behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. In a comforting voice, she said, "He was proud of you."
"He was an amazing man," replied Sid as her presence brought him back to the here and now. His mind was blank as he tried to plan his next actions. Slowly, he straightened and blinked back his tears to regain control over his emotions. He asked the nurse, "What am I supposed to do now?"
Having dealt with many families that had just lost loved ones, she gave him a simple action oriented answer. She answered, "You should contact the funeral parlor and make the arrangements for them to pick up the body."
For the next three days, Sid was extremely busy. His mornings were spent in class, his afternoons in taking care of his uncle's funeral, and his evenings were spent working. His homework was turned in on time and he collected his paycheck. His family was no help, treating the death of his uncle as something that was long past due. While their indifference bothered Sid tremendously, it was their avarice that angered him.
Saturday morning came with dark gray clouds and a slow drizzling rain. Sid, dressed in his best suit, waited in the funeral parlor by the open casket taking a last look at his uncle. They had covered his scars with makeup, making him look like a soft old man rather than the warrior he had been. A worn out tape of generic funeral music filled the air, lending a depressing air to the environment.
The Funeral Director came out and put a hand on his shoulder in what passed for a sympathetic gesture. Services in which only a handful of people attended depressed him. He felt that people should have gained a larger circle of people in the course of a lifetime. He said, "It is time for us to start the service."
Sid moved to the first row of pews and glanced over the room before seating himself. Behind him was row after row of empty pews. Other members of his family should have occupied the pews. In front of him, stood the casket, the flowers, and the priest. The only bouquets of flowers were the one he had purchased and the one sent by his uncle's lawyer. As the Priest went through the ceremony, Sid prayed for the soul of his uncle and mourned his loss. Five minutes into the service, a rear door opened and closed. Out of respect for his uncle, Sid did not turn around to see who had entered.
The service ended and four men entered the room to take care of the casket. It saddened Sid that his uncle's pallbearers would be complete strangers. Sid went to the back of the room to meet who had entered late, hoping that it might be the mysterious Elizabeth or at least one of his relatives. The disappointment on his face was difficult to miss. Zane Herlan stood and shook hands with Sid as he said, "I'm sorry to have been late. My phone was ringing all morning."
Frowning at the implications of the lawyer's statement, Sid said, "Let me guess. All of my relatives wanted to verify the time for the reading of the will."
Uncomfortable with the accuracy of the assertion, the lawyer cleared his throat before answering, "I'm afraid so. It doesn't look like any of them came to the funeral."
The funeral director came over and interrupted, "We are ready to take deceased to the gravesite."
Sid and the lawyer followed him outside. Each man got into his own car and followed the hearse to the gravesite. It was a short sad drive for Sid as raindrops covered the windshield, but not with the intensity that required the windshield wipers. The only thing that made it worse for him was the fact that he had to go through this alone. Sid felt like this was a time that families should stick together, but his family was different. They were already circling like vultures wanting to see how much they would get from the dead. As the casket was lowered into the grave, tears ran down his face, tears that were hidden by the slow miserable rain.
The lawyer watched Sid carefully, his heart breaking for the young man. As a lawyer, he had dealt with lots of families in this situation. Usually, families came together in mutual support, but he had never encountered a family as ugly as this one. All of the other relatives had called to find out about when the will would be read, but not a single one had shown up for the funeral. He had to wonder how a young man like Sid had emerged from their ranks. The full meaning of the instructions given to him by Gerald made sense to him.
Gerald had been one of his first clients and he had liked the old man right from the beginning. Through references, introductions, and good words, Gerald had helped him build his initial client list. The man had been a major influence in the lives of many of the older business men in the area. Time had isolated Gerald from those who knew him best, as his friends and associates had passed away before him. Today, only Sid and he were left to say farewell to Gerald.
Sid entered the law office and took a seat at the conference table. He was the last to arrive even though he had come directly from the funeral. Looking around at all of his relatives with disgust, Sid said, "He told me he wanted to give all of his money to charity. I hope he did."
Aunt Helen sneered at the comment believing that Sid expected to get all of his uncle's wealth. She said, "We'll contest the will. He was crazy and we'll get it over turned in a minute."
"Why should he leave his money to relatives that didn't even attend his funeral?" asked Sid giving full voice to his disgust. He added, "He'd have to be crazy to leave us any money."
His father, irritated at Sid's holier-than-thou attitude, snapped, "Shut up Sid. We all know you're a brown noser trying to get all of his money."
The lawyer entered the room and cleared his throat. Sid bit back his retort and turned to face the lawyer. The lawyer introduced himself, "I am Zane Herlan and I have been the attorney for Gerald Jones for the past forty years. Two months ago, he came to my office and updated his will."
Aunt Helen groused, "Get on with it. We don't need any of the history crap."
Zane looked at the woman unable to believe the unmitigated gall of the woman. He opened the will and started reading it aloud, "I, Gerald Jones, being of sound mind and..."
Sid's father interrupted, "Skip to the important stuff."
As though he was privy to a great secret, Zane smiled and flipped over the first page. Starting at the top of the second page, he started reading, "My brother, his three children, and six grandchildren are all that remain of my family. All of them, with the single exception of Sid Jones, are miserable bastards. If it weren't for Sid, I would give my entire estate to charity. For my dear nephew, Sid, I leave my house and all of the goods within it."
Aunt Helen looked over at Sid with hate filled eyes. She snarled, "If you get it all, we're going to rake you over the coals!"
Sid glared back at her, wondering what would happen to him if he were to snap her back in half. Zane interrupted, "Gerald made arrangements for me to follow on first provable news of his impending death. First, I was to go to his home and search for a box marked scum in his office. Within that box were all of his stocks, bonds, certificates of deposit, and bank accounts. Second, I was to turn all of those assets into cash. His broker handled all of the transactions utilizing a power of attorney that he had provided. Third, I was to divide that money into eight equal amounts and give one share each to the relatives with the exception of Sid on the condition that by accepting the money they agree not challenge the will. Gerald Jones was a thoughtful man and wanted to make sure that you could get your share of the inheritance without any delay."
The family looked around at each other, puzzled if they were getting a good deal or not. They weren't surprised that Gerald had referred to them as scum. Zane smiled at the puzzlement and said, "I have done as he instructed. I went to the house in the presence of Judge Clement, Sheriff Bailey, and three deputies. We located the box marked scum and executed the rest of his instructions. Each share is worth two hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars."
Unsure if this was a good deal, Uncle George asked, "How much is the house and the goods within it worth?"
Zane shook his head amazed at the greed of these people. They were being given a quarter of a million dollars by a man whom they didn't care enough about to attend the funeral. He answered, "The house and goods within it are worth approximately a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. There may be some cash, but I doubt it is very much. Sid is also the beneficiary on a life insurance policy for fifty thousand dollars. That is not covered under the will and can't be contested."
Sid's father burst out laughing and said, "So the suck up got screwed."
Zane nodded in agreement and commented, "So it would appear."
Sid sat back thinking about his uncle. While it might seem that he was getting the smallest inheritance, he wasn't disappointed since the house was the most important thing to his uncle and the fact that he saw fit to leave it to him meant a lot. His uncle was a devious man and knew his family better than they knew themselves. There was a trick hidden in this that none of them would discover for a long time, if ever. He tried to put on an unhappy face as he answered, "It would look like it to me."
The rest of the family started laughing at him taking a perverse delight in his situation. Zane watched Sid carefully, noticing that despite the troubled appearance on his face, there was a definite gleam in his eye. He finally said, "I have checks here for each member of the family that is eighteen or older. For those under eighteen, a trust fund has been established for them. Their parents will need to sign the papers for the transfer of the trust funds. Acceptance of the checks indicates acceptance of the terms of the will."
The family members pushed and shoved each other out of the way to get their hands on the checks. In less than five minutes, the only ones left in the conference room were Zane and Sid. Sid looked at the door after it had been slammed shut by his grandfather and started laughing. Zane asked, "What's so funny?"
"My family is a bunch of fools," replied Sid. He smiled at Zane as he added, "The deal was so sweet that they could hardly contain their excitement. My uncle was a much smarter man than they could possibly imagine. He left me the things that were most valuable to him, knowing that I would value them just as much he did. My family would have sold them all off without a moment of thought. He made sure that wouldn't happen."
Zane smiled and said, "Well, your uncle gave me a personal message to give to you. He said that the house contains something of greater value than everything else combined. I have no idea what it is, but he said that it could never be sold only destroyed."
"I knew there was something like that. My uncle was not a stupid man and he made sure that I would come out ahead. My family will blow through that money by the end of the year. My uncle gave me something that would last the rest of my life, he gave me a home."
Picking up a form, Zane held it out to Sid. He said, "Your uncle asked me to make this available to you. It is an application for a restraining order to keep your family at least a hundred yards from you and the house. He thought that you might need it when they went through their money."
Sid smiled at the foresight of his uncle and his low opinion of the other members of his family. He would take care of that when the time was right. For now, he had to distance himself from the rest of the family. He asked, "So when can I move into the house?"
"I would recommend that you go to your parent's house and get everything that you own before going directly to your new home. He had a very good alarm system installed. The code to get in is 1234. Change it once you get there." The attorney looked over at Sid and shook his head. He wondered how the poor lad would fair amongst those sharks. He added, "The title to the house will be transferred when I settle the estate."
"Thanks," replied Sid as the lawyer handed him the key to the house.
Zane said, "Call me if you ever need help."
After picking up a small stack of business cards, Sid stood and walked to the door. Once there, he turned and faced the attorney giving him a look that conveyed the iron in his spirit. He said, "My uncle taught me well. I know how to protect myself, he made sure of that. I will use you for legal advice, so give me the details for arranging a retainer. At your convenience, of course."
Sid left and stopped by his parent's house. It was empty, his parents and sister were not at home. Most likely, they were out shopping for new cars and he was sure that the next time that he would see them his father would be driving a Lexis, his mother would be in a sport BMW, and his sister would be driving a Corvette. He shared his uncle's opinion that they were a bunch of lowlife idiots and that it wouldn't take them long to spend all of the money without regard to their future needs.
He gathered his stuff and carried it out to the rear of his used truck. There wasn't much stuff in the truck bed - two boxes that contained ten days worth of clothes and his school books. There was also the duffel bag containing gear from his days in the army. His most valued possession was the computer and printer that his uncle had given him to use while in school. He put that on the floor in the front of the truck so that it wouldn't bounce around on the drive to his new house.
He drove directly to his new home thinking along the way about the advice the lawyer had given him. Parking the car in the driveway, he looked at the house with fresh eyes. It was in immaculate condition, freshly painted last year and a new roof the year before that. He knew that the plumbing and electrical service had been upgraded while he had been in the Army.
He entered the house and turned off the alarm system by entering the code Zane had given him. He carried in his belongings, putting the clothes in the guest room, the computer on the floor in the study, and his books on the coffee table in the living room. Still expecting to hear the distinctive step of his uncle coming down the hall any moment, he wasn't quite ready to take over as master of the house.
Entering the kitchen, he looked around to see if anything required immediate attention. The refrigerator contained a bottle of expired milk, lunchmeat that didn't smell right, and a few vegetables that had seen better days. He cleaned out the old food throwing it into a trash can. A loaf of bread showed signs of mold and that went in the trash as well. He smiled as he looked around. Other than food that would spoil after a week, the rest of the kitchen was immaculate. Even the dishes in the dishwasher had been washed.
He found the duster and started dusting the entire house, using that as a way to become familiar with what was there. It gave him a chance to pick up photographs in their frames and to examine each one before setting them down. There were pictures of Gerald in the army and on a beach in France. There was one of him standing in front of a milk truck. Sid smiled as he remembered the stories his uncle told about returning from the war and working as a milk man. The family had been scandalized by him doing that kind of work, but he had paid for this house in cash after less than two years on the job. Gerald had enjoyed the work, particularly the side benefits that came with delivering milk to horny war widows and bored housewives.
When the Grandfather clock struck two, Sid realized that he had not eaten since breakfast. He returned to the kitchen to prepare a can of soup for his lunch. He preferred to heat the soup on a low setting so that it would never really have a chance to boil. It took longer to prepare it that way, but it seemed to him that it tasted better. Just as he had started the soup, the sound of the front door closing caught his attention. He charged out of the kitchen to confront the intruder, finding Aunt Helen standing in the living room, her eye roaming around the room looking for things of value. He stepped in front of her and said, "Get out of my house."
She looked over at him with a frown on her face and retorted, "I just wanted to make sure that we didn't get screwed by that old bastard."
His arm flicked out to the side. A finger touched the emergency button on the alarm system, an act that would summon the police to the house. He opened the front door and returned to stand between her and the rest of the house. Controlling his anger, he said, "If you are still on my property when the police arrive, I will have you arrested for trespassing."
The telephone rang and he made no move to answer it, knowing that it was the security company calling to make sure that the alarm was real. Aunt Helen shouted, "I have a right to be here you ungrateful dog."
"You have no right to be here. You took your money and ran out of that room like it was on fire." Sid shook his head looking at the woman standing in front of him. Many men his father's age would find her attractive, but to Sid the only word that came to mind to describe her was harpy. She was a harsh bitter woman, who had only a single interest in life and that interest was money. He added, "Besides, I am very grateful to Uncle Gerald. It seems to me that you're the one that is ungrateful."
With veins in her forehead throbbing, his aunt flew into a rage fully convinced that Sid was hiding a pile of money or something in the house. Sid stood and listened passively as she ranted in his direction. When the police arrived, Sid looked around his aunt at them and said, "Gentleman, this woman is trespassing. Would you please remove her from my property?"
She moved forward to slap him, but he stepped back out of the way. When one of the policemen grabbed her, she turned on the officer. The flat of her hand connected solidly with his face. In less than a minute she was on the ground and in handcuffs. Sid looked down at his aunt and, in a very sad voice, said, "I will be happy to sign a complaint for trespassing and attempted assault. You can also count on me to support you in any charges of assaulting an officer and resisting arrest that you may choose to press."
The policeman smiled at the support being given him and lifted her to her feet. He said, "We appreciate that. You can come down to the station any time to sign the complaint."
Sid looked at his aunt for a second, as he realized that she might have had a chance to steal something from the house before he had arrived from the kitchen. He added, "I would appreciate it if you could search her to make sure that she hasn't taken anything from the house. I just inherited it and I haven't had time to take a proper inventory."
Aunt Helen, angry at an accusation that reflected her true intent, attempted to kick Sid, but the only thing she accomplished was to kick both officers. In her anger, she lost all control. When she tried to knee one of the officers in the groin, he responded with force and pushed her down to her knees. Holding her hair in one hand, he turned to his partner with a very satisfied grin as he ordered, "Get on the radio and get a police woman here. I want her searched. When we get to the station, I want a full body cavity search performed on the suspect. Her actions suggest to me that she has stolen something from this house."
It was almost an hour later before the police left taking a screaming Aunt Helen with them. Sid had signed all of the complaints against her without the slightest hesitation. When he returned to the kitchen, his soup had evaporated to nearly nothing. Disgusted, he emptied the pot and washed it thoroughly.