Episode 6: hoUSING AutHOrity

The shrill sound of a band saw seized fire as Garrison Dhorne left the wooded area of his estate. While walking up the hill to his home a calmness overwhelmed him as he surveyed the new days early progress. The addition to his garage was already in progress which gave him a sense of hope that life here would return to normal very soon. Jetski lodge!

He could hear the rounds of demolition coming from the upstairs as walls were being torn away to make space for extended bedrooms. It would likely be too much for just he and his son to inhabit but he also knew that guests would be coming in waves. Bigger the better he would tell himself as he patted the crotch of his jeans.

“Ain’t that right, Junior?”

Forgoing the interior, he stepped around the side of the garage avoiding the newly built framework where he spied the lovely prison contractor Esther Cordoba up high on a ladder adding support to the peak. Standing below her, he admired her perfect little ass long enough to ignite a whistle. “Mornin’ Molester.” Esther the Molester in his wildly insane thoughts.

Leering down at him with a wink she felt obligated to balance out his antics. “Are you bringing us the morning wood, Mister Dhorne?”

“Don’t get a splinter on my account. Besides, it sounds to me like the lumber yard beat me to it.”

With a point toward the front of the house he made his exit. A flatbed truck had managed to wind back into his driveway with very little difficulty. Near the bed he spotted Mercedes Holden, the head contractor for Broken Nails All-Girl Construction motioning the flatbed driver to back up ever so slowly and wheel to the left before offering the man a firm hand to stop his rig.

The driver hissed his air brakes and shut down before hopping out of his cab. The man was in his late 30’s, balding slowly on top, with a thick moustache. Easy enough to tell he ate well with a belly overhang that required suspenders over his t-shirt.

Ever the devil in disguise Dhorne snuck up behind Mercedes and casually slapped her behind just to annoy her. “Keep that up I’ll demand a raise.”

“Darlin, I offered you a raise months ago. You turned Junior down.”

“Come on, Bossman. We can’t be mixin’ business with pleasure. Besides, we both know you weren’t serious. We’ve been friends’ way too long. Grab some gloves you can help unload.”

A subtle glance around him he caught the portly prisoner Yolanda Paris leaning against a tree. “Yo, Paris. Loan me yer mittfitter’s. Seein’ as how yer gonna get to work buildin’ the doghouse. If the welcome mat fits step on in.”

Upon hearing and locating the owner she gnashed her teeth over being busted slacking off. A dreadful walk over she handed him her gloves rather brusquely. “Are you sure these fit such big hands and bigger egos?”

“If they fit those Sub Woofer’s they’ll do me jus’ fine.” Doghouse jokes! Really? She snarled at his mix of food and dog comments taking offense about her weight.

He stared at her without expression then looked down at her legs. Yolanda Paris had dared to wear shorts revealing her legs to the Alabama heat. Oz grimaced at her then coughed up, “Bad Nair day?”

Paris realized his comment about her unshaven legs and flipped him off with both middle fingers. As if the prison system would let inmates abuse razorblades. Leaving in a huff Mercedes choked over his observation. “Thanks. Keep making her feel insecure and she won’t get anything done but sulk.”

“You know me, Mercy D! She nudged me wrong. Pit in my stomach says she’s bad news. I reckon she puts the bull and my pit in Pit Bull. Always going to be a dogfight!”

Mercedes always found his wisdom funny as hell. He was always right on the button. During their banter the driver of the truck came around to greet them handing Mercedes a clip board to sign the invoice for her lumber order. A quick scrawl of her signature he lowered the board to his side and glared over at Dhorne who was untying the ropes holding the load in place, “Hey, I remember you. You’re friends with Luther Vance. Ozzie Dhorne, right?”

Oz completed his rope threading and nodded! “Metgar Patterson. How’s yer daddy doing? If’n I recall, ole Cletus had himself a bad bout of emphysema last I lived here.”

The man scratches his head. “You knew my, Pappy? God rest his soul.”

Dhorne took a moment to lean, resting his folded arms on the side of the truck bed. “Sorry to hear that Metgar. Give yer kin my sympathies. I sat in on one of yer daddy’s poker games once with, Lugnut. He was losin’ his yard to me. He finally put yer momma up for collateral. Last second, I had sympathy and folded. No offense but yer momma’s got the looks. And I don’t mean purdy.”

Metgar chuckled scratching at his scruffy beard. “Don’t I know it. My momma stares through til your soul sets fire. Now that you mention it I remember my Pap telling me about that game. Said you only needed Knotty Pine and all we had was the hard stuff. You could have owned the company. What changed your mind?”

“I own every tree in a twenty-mile collar. If I want wood, I’ll cut it down. Besides, your daddy needed all the oxygen he could muster. Tree’s create oxygen. I recall telling him to get his lumber outside my twenty-mile radius. I did him one better. Bought the pharmaceutical supply company and gave him a lifetime supply of air for free.”

Metgar lowered his jaw! “You’re the angel my momma keeps talking about.” As if obligated Metgar stepped forward tossing his clip board on the truck bed to reach out and shake Dhorne’s hand. Oz in turn grinned heavily and accepted. “I’ll have my momma-in law send over some flowers. When I get time, I’ll stop by and offer yer daddy my prayers. I’ll plant a tree by his grave.”

Metgar felt like crying as they were interrupted by the arrival of employed prisoner’s Jersey DeVille and Lacey McBride. Metgar’s tears were easily hardened and stashed away by their beauty.

Dhorne noted his eyes roaming over the busty brunette’s chest. “Jersey girl, wipe ole Metgar’s tears ‘fore he drowns.”

Jersey sized the man up, rather repulsed by his appearance but regardless found it amusing. She pouted at him, “Awww, poor baby.” She swiftly lifted her cut off jersey and dabbed at his cheeks, her bare breasts in full view and grazing along his chest. Metgar was in Heaven. As she backed away, he pouted. Parting was such sweet sorrow.

“Laceylou?” Dhorne chuckled! “You can wipe his chin.”

The blonde became suddenly unamused, softly shying away to look down toward the ground, her hair disguising her emotions. Metgar darted his eyes toward Dhorne uncertain what the inside joke might have been. “Fun while it lasted. Does Luther know you’re in town?”

Oz narrowed his eyes as Lacey and Jersey left to join Mercedes in unloading the lumber. Returning a smile to Metgar, Oz sighed heavily. “Not yet! I figured I needed to prioritize first. I needed to focus on family reunion and helpin’ get things ready for my boy comin’ home. Can’t have a house half done, right? Kind of like a cup half full. D-cups at that.” He winked at the man.

Metgar nodded with a grateful pucker. “I’ll be running into Luther today. He’s bringing his momma Gert over to visit my momma later. Bible study! We keep hopin’ for a free for all. Get those two yardbird’s chirping there’s no peace in town.”

“Yeah, ole Gertrude prolly had her hand in that there pillar of salt. Likely loaded her cane with it.”

“By the way, welcome back to Bartlett.”

“Here to stay, Pattywack.”

“Some nickname! I’ll take that as a compliment. That is unless you’re making fun of my perverted side.”

Oz sighed while pointing at the girls walking back. “After seein’ those gals, I might just join ya. Twenty-one cum salute.”

Metgar busted a gut donning the gloves from his back pocket. United as a work force the flatbed was unloaded within fifteen minutes. A firm handshake later and Metgar Patterson was back inside his rig.

Dhorne stood below his cab slapping the side of his door. “Tell Lugnut I’ll be at Candy’s Bar tomorrow night after I get my boy to bed. He can buy the drinks.” With a thumb up Metgar Patterson drove off.

Dhorne stood vigilante waiting until Metgar was out of sight then glared back toward the girls. Each of them had instructions to put their talents to a particular use. With the guidance of Mercedes Holden, the house’s frame work was quickly coming together.

He smugly admired how well the girl’s had learned a trade. Most of them had likely only hammered nails into a wall to hang a picture before Mercy took them under her wing. His money backing her business he loved it when he could change people’s lives.

Casually walking around the work site, he noted the old outhouse still standing in the woods from the LeGend ancestral habitat. Overgrown by weeds yet still in view. Gus had left it up as a family heirloom. Or as Dhorne would say, “Airfume”.

He recalled the wisdom of Augustus LeGend on the first walk they had together when Nora brought him home to meet her parents. Telling him that the outhouse had put up with the shit of past family members and had still tested time. That and the half moon carving on the door for ventilation meant, “The gravity of the situation”.

A situation that in time would be spoken of out of trust between them. He might now own the ground they stood on. That Nora was buried beneath. But that was only half the moon. The other half was eclipsed by secrecy. One that needed guarded. Gus felt he had found that guardian in his son-in-law. Dhorne took the responsibility with pride. Honor to him was the tunnel to the soul. A tunnel with a light at the end. He would go so far as to say it was Nora holding a candle.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Dhorne removed his hands from his pants pockets and glanced over his shoulder. “Sondra Moon, fancy that.”

“Excuse me?”

He nodded in the direction of the outhouse. “Moon on the door.”

She looked past him at the aging construction. “Ah! Saying I’m full of shit?”

“I dunno. Are ya?”

With a shrug and a fidgeting smile, she awaited his determination. Finally, Garrison Dhorne turned toward her. “I recall my father-in-law telling me how my wife was locked in that outhouse by her sister. Mean lil gal, Nina. Told her parents Nora ran away with the circus. They knew better. Nora was afraid of clowns. I joked once about my puttin’ the OZ in BOZO, and she shriveled in terror. She would tell me about her thoughts while stuck in that there shitter. About the sudden peace she had. She turned Nina’s joke around and made that place her meditation chamber. Worked! Nora was the most peaceful soul alive.”

He felt a tear coming on and turned slightly from Sondra’s view. “I told a wise man once in India that the top of the mountain only left him breathless and breathtaking. Sit in a crapper for an hour and yer relieved of all the stress. Told him that he and his monastery could put the Colon in Colony. He sat there laughing for three days. Course I put ex-lax in his teacup and thanked him for shootin’ the shit.”

Sondra exploded into giggles! “I can never tell when you’re serious. That’s too funny.”

“So, Sondra Moon. How does it feel to know yer forgiven of yer sins?”

She tilted her head out of confusion. “What do you mean?” He merely turned away leaving her to question his motives. Next stop!

Kimber Lomax looked down at Dhorne from the upstairs bedroom through the busted-out wall. “Watch your step. Falling bedroom zone. By the way, we covered the furniture before we started.” Oz glared up at her holding a sizable hammer while Belle Fontaine raised up her own sledge beside her in the hole being developed in the wall.

Oz noted the power lines next to the room. “Careful there hammer from the slammer. Ole Kimber might just take yer LEG right outta sLEdGe. Watch out for the wiring in the wall or I’ll be sweeping yer ashes to the wind.”

They glared at each other in shock as they looked around the walls at outlets, both bulging their eyes at the other. Dhorne stopped cold and chuckled shaking his head. He knew the power was off, Mercy was smart enough to keep her crew alive. “Always look for any zappin’ before ya go gapin’ and dirtnappin’.” Translating they knew he meant making large gaps in the walls and frying themselves.

With a thumbs up he moved forward into the house through the front door and stepped down the hallway toward the kitchen. Opening a door behind the upstairs staircase he found the entrance downstairs to the basement.

Flipping on a light switch out of curiosity he was right about Mercy cutting the power. Better safe than sorry! Heading down the carpeted steps he reached the basement level and stopped to stare at his indoor swimming pool. Natural lighting through glass walls was a benefit to no power. Walls that could be closed in at the push of a button to obstruct view. He had all the perks.

Walking along the pools ledge he eyed the inner walls of concrete and tile thinking of just how good of a job Mercedes did hiding the hidden hatchway built into the interior. He trusted her with more secrets than he really should, but Mercy was tough. Respect!

Satisfied he moved on opening a door to another room below the garage. Within he discovered his home gym. Weight machine, cardio bike, treadmill, all were positioned with room in between. A boxing sandbag dangled on a chain off in a corner. Mirrored tiles lined the lakeside wall with cushioned mats on the floor in front of them. For a brief moment he caressed the glass thinking of his son Connor. “Yup! I’m gonna have to put rails up here for Conjob’s ballet stances. Reckon facing the lake’s gonna be my swan song.”

He prayed he would be wrong, but he knew that Nora had let him take Ballet lessons. He cringed every time he pictured his boy in a tutu. Noting the temperature of the room and the musty smell he reached up over the mirrors to a small line of windows and opened them to let fresh air enter. A twinge was felt in his lower back from stretching. A wince of sharp pain told him that he really needed to get that number Meredith Naberly had given him from his trench coat and call that masseuse to make an appointment.

Carefully pulling his muscle shirt off Oz draped it over a cardio bikes side bars then unfastened his denim jeans. Before pulling them down he used his toes on the heel of his boots to tug them off of his feet. Once off, he dropped his pants and stepped out of them, followed by his boxers until he wore only socks and his bandanna. Popping his shoulders and warming up his achy lower back in readiness, he decided to test the back muscles with a workout on his weight bench. Checking quickly the amount of weight on the pin he raised it up slightly to 150 pounds, not wanting to overexert yet assess the damage to the muscle in his back.

Stretching out he laid back gripping the suspended handles. Closing his eyes to anticipate agony he lured the bars downward. Not even a sharp pin prick of pain. He puckered dropping the weight which shook the entire machine and forcing a cloud of dust to billow over his face. Choking over his mistake he blew what he could with his mouth when he heard laughter.

Lifting his head he spotted Esther and Jersey watching him through the small basement window. “You need a French maid.”

Esther winked remarking her family heritage as Jersey merely drooled at getting the chance to see his humongous penis again. Wiping the dust from his eyes he wished he had left his shades on. “Reckon I do. Grab me a washcloth for my eyes.”

Both women leaped from their knees and bolted into the house. He started to raise up on his bench when the muscle in his back chose to spasm causing him to clench his teeth. He slowly fell back onto the bench and lie there letting it ease up. Within minutes he heard footsteps pounding rapidly down the staircase. He counted 4 sets. Rolling his blurry eyes, he knew he was in trouble.

Esther Cordoba led the way with a washcloth while Jersey brought a can of Pledge and paper towels. Following them were Belle and Kimber who had abandoned their post for drinks in the kitchen.

Esther knelt down beside Dhorne and dabbed a wet dish towel over his eyes. “Poor thing. Are you blind?”

“I see sez the blind man as he stumbled into sight.”

“Dang it. I was hoping you might need help with that walking stick.”

Her other hand slid across the rippling muscles of his abdomen creeping into his pubic region. The girls all grew wide-eyed at her boldness. Dhorne said nothing to stop her. He merely closed his eyes. Jersey avoided the situation spraying the towels in her hand with furniture cleaner and carefully wiped down the weights and support bars.

Esther noted that Dhorne had nothing to say as he gripped the dangling bars again choosing to continue lifting to their amazement. Four repetitions later he whispered an direct command. “Kimber? Move the pin to 300.” Weaving around Esther she repositioned the pin as ordered.

Muscles tensing he lifted the weights slowly then back down. With each lift the girls noticed his dick tightening and becoming erect with a vengeance. It was almost as if he were pumping even that muscle. Esther’s fingers parted as she let them divide around his cock.

Belle and Jersey darted eyes between themselves at the sight. “We should get back to work before Mercedes comes looking for us.” Belle addressed as Kimber reluctantly concurred. With a disappointed look in her eye Belle took her own advice and followed. Jersey started to go when Dhorne dropped the weights startling her. “Jersey? 350.”

The woman swallowed looking at the door to see both Belle and Kimber peeking around from the outside. Esther smiled mesmerized by Dhorne’s erection.

Cautiously, Jeraldine “Jersey” DeVille followed through at his command by adding 50 pounds to his weights. As she did Esther took the biggest risk of her day and wrapped her fingers around his cock gently moving her hand up and down.

“Hope you don’t mind if I do some weight lifting of my own.” She teased as Dhorne ignored her as if she wasn’t even there. Jersey moved back when Dhorne grunted biting his upper lip. She could tell he was in pain. Kneeling down beside Esther she reached out and placed her palm on his six-pack. “Are you alright, Sir?”

Dhorne continued lifting with his eyes sealed. Dropping the weights he took time to breath. Sweat was building up over his entire body glossing his noble tan. Finally, he growled a next command. “More weight.”