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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Box - 7. Chapter 7

July 5, 1999

“Good morning,” I said to JP as he brought me a cup of tea on the veranda. “What do you have planned for today?”

“I have no plans for today,” he said casually. I raised an eyebrow at that, at Mr. Organized being so open ended, and got a dirty look for my non-verbal sarcasm. “Are you planning to read the rest of the diary?” He seemed nervous.

“I am,” I responded. “You are nervous. Why?”

“No reason,” he lied. I was going to make a big deal out of it, but I changed my mind. If there was something that would embarrass him in there, it would come out and we would deal with it. If there wasn’t, he would tell me what was bothering him when I was done.

Brad came strolling in, looking pretty spry for the morning. “Am I on time?” He had gotten as engrossed in the diary as I was.

“You are.” JP looked at me meaningfully. “What date are we on?” That was his prod for me to continue reading, so I did.

August 24, 1941

I completely snapped a cap tonight. I am so fucking pissed off I can’t stand it. It’s like I need to go hit something, or someone. Only I’m not fucking going fucking anywhere because I’m gonna be fucking grounded. Fuck!

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in here. I’ve been busy, and up until Friday night, it was all good. I should write all about that, but I’m too pissed off, so I’ll write about this weekend instead.

There was a big party on Friday night at Jamie Dawber’s house. He lives up in the hills, not too far from where Kim Alpers lives. His parents went out of town to visit his grandma or something like that, so he decided to have a party. He told them he’d only have a few of his buddies over. There were probably a hundred kids there. The four of us, Barbie and I, and Aaron and Allison, went together. We pretty much went everywhere together. At first I thought it would be weird, almost always double-dating, but I think the girls were into it because they were such good friends. Plus, when they were together, they could keep each other from going all the way.

It was a bash, and I drank a couple of beers, but that was all. I don’t know why, I just wasn’t in the mood to get drunk. It seemed like what was a lucky event just a month ago, Aaron getting some booze, wasn’t a big problem now at all. It was weird, but getting beer was almost easy. Or at least it used to be. Anyway, Jim was at the party and he was really blotto, but I wasn’t really paying attention to him. He’s such an asshole, that when I’m around him I usually want to beat his fucking face in anyway. When he’s drunk, he gets even more obnoxious. So at parties like that one, I pretty much avoid him.

So we’re enjoying the party, hanging out in back, and I hear this massive crash. We all go rushing out front just in time to see Jim’s Buick tear off, the back end all fucked up. We all went out to see what he creamed, and found out it was my car. The fucker backed right into the driver’s side, smashing in the door, the fenders, and the running boards. I was about to hop in my car, go chase him down and beat the shit out of him, but Aaron stopped me.

“Don’t go after him,” he said.

“Why? I’m gonna kick his fucking ass,” I’d yelled. I write fuck in this diary all the time like I’m a hood, but I never say it out loud. I did that time, though, and it got some weird looks. “Look what he did to my car!”

By now a crowd had gathered around it, shaking their heads and looking sad for me. “Trust me on this. It will just get you in deeper shit.”

“Get me in deeper shit? What did I do?”

“You’re here, drinking, just like him,” he said.

“Only he’s pissed drunk, and I’m sober,” I pointed out. He just looked at me, begging me to get his logic, but I didn’t. But I cared enough about him, fuck that, I loved him enough to listen to him. I was too snapped to be good company, and everyone was pretty spazzed out, so we took the girls home and went back to my house.

I knew I was too mad to talk to my parents, but I was pretty much beyond caring. We stormed into the house and found them sitting in the living room, listening to some program on the radio. My mom greeted us pleasantly until she saw the expression on my face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Jim. That asshole ran into my car!” I yelled. My father got up and looked pissed off too, but Mom was being all calm. Only later did it dawn on me that they let me get away with saying ‘asshole’ without giving me shit about it.

“Let’s go see,” she said. I led them out to the garage and showed them the side. It was so creamed the driver’s side door wouldn’t open. I could see my father getting enraged, but Mom gave him a look and calmed him down. It was amazing how he let her just run his life. “We’ll get it fixed, and it will be like new,” she said simply.

“That’s it? That’s all that happens? He creams my car, and we just get it fixed?” I was beside myself.

“What do you want to do? Have him thrown in jail?” she demanded, squaring off with me. My father may be intimidated by her, but I wasn’t. The biggest fights in our house, the really big ones, well, except for the fight she had with my dad on my birthday, were between the two of us.

“Damn right. Throw his worthless ass in jail,” I said.

“Watch your mouth,” my father growled. My free time with bad words was over.

“Jim is your cousin. We’re not doing anything of the sort. We’ll get the car fixed,” she said. “How did he hit your car anyway?”

“We were at a party and he left. The car was parked,” I told her. She looked at Aaron, then at me.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” she said, recognizing that I was too angry to deal with it. When I made to argue, she held up her hand. But it was my dad’s glare backing her up that did it for me.

Aaron spent the night, and that did a lot to make things better. We went to bed and waited to make sure everyone else was asleep, and then he rolled over on top of me and fucked me senseless. God, I love having sex with him. He recognized my mood and kind of tackled me, trying to get me to fight back. When I did, he just pinned me down even harder. So then we were basically wrestling. I felt his hand on my ass with some lube and I eased up enough so he could work some into me. We may have been wrestling, but I still wanted him to fuck me.

He got me all lubed up, then he really pinned me, using his knees to force my legs apart. His dick lined up automatically with my hole and he pushed in, not violently, but aggressively. Then he bit my neck, bit it really hard, hard enough to make me mad. I started fighting with him, all of my moves pushing me into his dick. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re raw,” he said in my ear in his animalistic voice. And that did it. After that, my whole mood changed. My brain switched off and my body took over, responding to him, to every move he made. It was like we were dancers, hoofing it up, only we were perfectly in sync. It was really amazing.

We fucked all the time, at least once a day, and he knew me so well he was able to bring us both off together. It was fucking cool. Every time we fucked, it got better. Every time he made me cum, I thought I was going to fucking black out. My body would usually just shake and throb after we were done while I tried to recover.

I didn’t tell him that I loved him, even though I knew I did. I didn’t because I knew it would freak him out. We had these girls and they made him think this was all okay. It’s not that I didn’t like them too. If he wasn’t in the picture, I’d be pretty focused on Barbie. I was making some real progress with her. The other day we’d been swimming over here and my parents were gone. She and I were off in one corner of the pool, while Aaron and Allison went into one of the changing rooms. We made out for a while, and I got her to take off her top so I could play with her beautiful boobs. Then she let me play with her pussy, actually touching her. I slid her bathing suit off, so she was completely naked, and had her sit on the steps. Then I went down on her.

With Kim it had been this intense experience. With Barbie it was fun. I really liked it, how we just relaxed and enjoyed each other. Her pussy was under the water, so I’d lick her, getting her all excited, then I’d blow bubbles on her little nub, making her laugh and moan at the same time. I wanted to get her off with my mouth, and I did, then she gave me a nice hand job. She probably would have let me fuck her, but I didn’t want to.

That had kind of sent me into a tailspin, wondering why I didn’t want to fuck her. I mean, I should want to. She’s cute, she’s my girlfriend, who wouldn’t want to? But the truth of the matter was that I was in love with Aaron, and I wanted him, not her. So I got to defend her virtue and seem like a good boy, and still have fun with her. But I saved myself, saved fucking for when Aaron and I were together.

It kind of bothered me that he didn’t feel the same way. He talked Allison into letting him fuck her probably once a week and he always had this shit-eating grin on his face afterward. I’d given him the condoms my dad gave me, but we were almost out, so that was another thing I had to worry about. I’d have to go down to the local store and buy some. That would be embarrassing as hell, especially since they weren’t even for me. Everyone would think I was doing Barbie. I had to figure out a way to pull that off. Aaron was too big of a pussy to go in there himself. Fucker. But I loved him too much to let him knock his girlfriend up.

Who am I kidding? After tonight, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be lucky if I’m allowed out of the house by Christmas. I was pissed off all day about my car, but tonight was a big family deal. It was my grandfather’s birthday, and everyone came over just like they did on my birthday.

Jim was there, but he didn’t get that he was an inch away from having my fist in his face. We were standing there, my parents and I, Jim and his parents, and all of my grandparents, looking at the mess that was my car. And does he say he’s sorry? No. Get this. He says “You parked right behind me, what did you expect?”

And I lost it. I lunged at him and my fist landed right on his nose. The next one landed on his eye, before our fathers pulled us apart. “That’s enough Steven,” my mom had yelled.

“You’re an asshole,” I said to Jim.

“You watch your mouth,” Mom snapped.

I ignored her. “You were drunk off your ass. I was parked on the other side of the driveway. You just backed into my car and drove off!”

“I was not!” he objected, only we all knew him, and knew that he was lying.

“Yeah, you were. We all know it. And you come down here and you don’t even have the decency to say you’re sorry. You try to make it sound like it’s my fault!” I’d yelled. I saw my aunt freak out about that. Manners were really important to her.

“I don’t have to apologize to you!” he’d shouted. “Why would I? You aren’t shit!”

“James!” my aunt had said, with the closest thing to a shout I’d ever heard.

“You’re an asshole. A spoiled rotten asshole!” I shouted at him. “Everyone in the whole town knows it. And you’re a liar too.” I turned to my parents, glaring at them, and at my aunt and uncle. “Go ask anyone at the party. They’ll tell you what happened! They’ll tell you how he was drunk and creamed my car.”

“That is enough!” My mother yelled.

“No it’s not! It’s not enough. He comes down here after he wrecks my car and spits in my face; tells me I am worthless and in my own home. If I did that to someone, you’d rip me up!” I yelled at her. “I’m supposed to just sit here and take it? No way. No way!”

She’d gotten right in my face and I glared right back at her. We were about to go at it when I felt a cool hand on my arm, so cool it almost made me jump. “I would like to apologize on behalf of my son,” my aunt said. “It seems I have been remiss in teaching him manners, and you have paid the price. We will make sure your car is fixed as if it were new.” She looked at Jim, and the look was really scary. Not because she was pissed off, but because she was disappointed. “I am hoping it is still possible to make you into a person worthy of our family name,” she said to Jim. That hit him harder than my fist. We all just stood there, stunned.

She was so calm, so cool, and so beautiful; it was like she had magically made all of my anger vanish. “I’m sorry I lost my temper,” I said to her. It was like Jim wasn’t even in the picture anymore. “And I’m sorry for my language.”

“I think if I had a car as nice as yours, and someone had wrecked it and then refused to even acknowledge it and apologize, I would feel just as angry, although I don’t think I can yell as loud as you,” she said, turning on the charm. She was so pretty. Damn. How wrong is it to want to fuck your aunt?

My mother was still glaring at me, and I knew that wasn’t the end of it for me. “Tonto, do you think you could have Randolph drive Jim home. I would like to enjoy the rest of my evening.” They all called my mom “Tonto,” because JP had used the French word for aunt, ‘tante’, and Mom thought he was calling her Tonto. It stuck. Thinking of that had reminded me of him. I saw him off to the side with Billy, wide-eyed, watching this whole thing. His eyes met mine and he looked sad just like his mother. He was so much like her. I just made some lame excuse and walked into the house, stopping to tousle his hair as I went. I felt sorry for him, having such an asshole for a big brother. It made me resolve to spend more time with him and Billy.

My mother decided that if Jim wasn’t going to be there, I couldn’t be there either, and that really snapped my cap because my grandfather and I were close and I knew he’d want me there. But I was tired of fighting with her, so I made her feel like shit instead. “We’ll send some food up to your room,” she’d said.

I walked up to my grandfather and gave him a big hug. “I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday dinner,” I told him. “And I’m sorry I’m going to miss it. I’ll try to make it up to you.”

“Never be sorry for sticking up for yourself,” he said. My mother almost freaked out, he made her look so bad. It was perfect. So I came up here and started writing this down. Billy just came in and told me that they wanted to see me, so I’ll be back.

OK, I’m back. What a bunch of bullshit. They tried to give me this big lecture on family, and how we had to stick up for each other and watch out for each other. And they tried to make Jim out to be some victim. I wasn’t buying any of that.

“I’m not watching out for him. I don’t care what happens to him. He’s a complete jerk,” I’d told her. My father had made to jump in, but I was mad, and I spoke up before he could. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me he’s not a complete asshole. Tell me everyone in town doesn’t think he’s a spoiled rotten jerk. Tell me that, and then I’ll listen to you preach about how I have to watch over him.”

“You’re not being fair. You don’t sound any better,” my mom had said.

“I’m no better?” I demanded. She looked guilty. “I didn’t wreck his car. And you don’t see my girlfriend leaving town for a year either.” That drove into them both, straight to the core. No one was supposed to know about that, but I’d heard them talking. Talking about how Jim knocked up his girlfriend and my aunt and uncle jumped through hoops to make sure the girl was taken care of.

“Eloise went to stay with her grandparents. Her grandfather was sick,” Mom said, spouting the story line.

“Right,” I said sarcastically. “Was it a boy or a girl?”

“You can’t tell anyone about that!” Mom said.

“Why? So people won’t think he’s not perfect? I mean, if that’s what you’re supposed to do, I can do that. I know how that works,” I said. My father looked at me with a strange expression. It was a combination of mirth and pride. “I’ve been holding back all this time for nothing? I’m supposed to have sex with girls now? Cool.”

“Quit being a smartass,” Mom said. “You know better than that.”

“I thought I was no better than Jim, Mom?” I asked her with faked sincerity.

“You’re grounded for the rest of the week and for next weekend,” she decreed.

“Why?” I asked. “What for?”

“Because I said so,” she’d yelled.

“Not good enough. That’s not good enough,” I told her. “You want to punish me, fine. But you have to have a reason. You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you that,” she said. She was pissed now, really mad.

“If I were in court, Dad, standing in front of you, would you consider this justice?” I asked him.

“I’ll tell you why you’re grounded,” Mom interrupted. “You’re grounded for using bad language in front of your aunt, uncle, brother, cousins, and grandparents. You’re grounded for giving Jim a bloody nose and a black eye in front of them. That’s why you’re grounded,” she said firmly. Now she was past the shrieking stage. Now she was in the cool logic stage. This one was tougher to deal with.

“Alright, Mom,” I said calmly, matching her mood. “I’m fine with that. I just want you to tell me one thing. I want you to tell me, if you were in the same situation I was in, what would you have done?” My father looked at her curiously.

I saw her struggling to come up with an excuse that we would believe. She couldn’t. Instead, she stood there, trying not to smile. “Steven, go up to your room.” I nodded and came back up here. I wanted to start writing, to pour out my thoughts in this diary, but I knew she’d be up soon. Either she or my father, but I thought it would be Mom, and I was right.

She came in and sat on the bed next to me. “You are a pain in the ass.” Only she said it in a loving and proud way, as fucked up as that was.

I just smiled at her. “Just like you?” I asked. We both laughed about it.

“Look, we don’t need a big family issue over this. We just don’t. So you have to keep up appearances. You want to have friends over this week, that’s fine. You want to have Aaron stay over, that’s fine. But to the rest of the town, or at least to Jack and Marie, it has to look like you’re grounded.”

“I guess getting to hit Jim was worth it,” I told her. She tried to stop her grin but couldn’t.

“I suspect his parents feel that way sometimes too,” she told me.

August 27, 1941

I was pretty OK with being grounded until today. I didn’t have a car anyway. It was getting fixed, and it was supposed to be done on Friday. That’s pretty fast work, I thought. Anyway, Aaron came over and seemed really nervous. Whenever he does that it spazzes me out, because I think it’s something I did and that it has something to do with ‘us’. We were in the kitchen with my mom and I was going to drag him upstairs to find out what this latest crisis was, and maybe fuck him, when he decided to speak up.

“I stopped by Danny’s on the way over,” he said. “Jim was there.”

“I guess he didn’t get grounded,” I said, glaring at my mom. She just looked pissed off.

“That’s not all,” Aaron said. “He had a brand new convertible. An Oldsmobile this time.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked. I couldn’t believe I used that word; that’s how upset I was.

“Watch your mouth!” Mom said.

That was just the cue I needed to turn on her. “You told me we didn’t need some big family issue. Remember that? That’s what you told me. That’s why you grounded me. Do you remember that?” She just stared at me. “Jim runs into my car and creams it, I get grounded, and he doesn’t. Not only does he not get grounded, he gets a brand new car. You want to tell me how that’s fair?”

“I’m not responsible for how Jack and Marie discipline Jim,” she’d said, embattled.

“Well, as soon as I get my car back he’s just going to run into it again. Maybe then they’ll buy him a Cadillac!” I yelled. I stood up and slammed my hand on the table as I did. Aaron just looked at us, kind of amused. He’d seen me and my mother go at it lots of times.

She stood up and got right in my face, and then she did what she does when she’s really pissed off. She paces the floors, back and forth, until she figures out what she’s going to do. I just stood there, irate, until she stopped. “Steven, you’re right. It isn’t fair at all.” She walked over to the key rack and grabbed her keys, then walked over to me and handed them to me. “Here. You’re not grounded anymore.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. I looked at her and then felt guilty. “We were going to go swimming. Maybe we can use the car later?” She nodded and patted my cheek.

“Jim was telling everyone how his mother was all pissed off, pardon me,” he said to my mom, “I mean, how she was all upset. Said it was his dad that did it. He was bragging about how no matter what happens, his dad always takes care of him.”

“They will reap what they sow,” she’d said. We went upstairs to fuck, and to change into our bathing suits, and came down to the kitchen in time to hear my mom talking on the phone, raising hell. She was really venting to someone about this whole situation. I made Aaron be quiet until I figured out who she was talking to. She went on and on, ranting and raving about the whole thing with Jim and me. When she finished up with “I’m sorry to bother you Daddy,” we knew it was my grandfather she was talking to. Now that was scary. He was a crusty old guy. He ruled their construction company with an iron fist, barely letting my uncle make any real decisions. It was kind of funny how animated he was when grandfather wasn’t around, but as soon as he showed up, my uncle just clammed up. I think my mom got tough as nails from having to deal with them, with both of her parents.

August 28, 1941

Today was Aaron’s birthday, and a lot of stuff happened today, but I need to go back to where I left off yesterday. At dinner last night, my mom handed me the keys to her car again.

“Thanks Mom,” I said. “I was thinking about going out after dinner.”

“I’m not lending you my car. It’s yours,” she said. I just stared at her. I loved my car, but hers was Dillinger. It had the Eight Cylinder engine so it was fast as hell, and it was even more deluxe on the inside. It was way too much for a kid like me. I felt kind of uncomfortable. I looked at my dad and he was pissed off.

“And just what are you supposed to drive?” he demanded.

“I thought I should get a new Chrysler,” she said to him sweetly, making him melt. “Daddy’s buying it for me.”

“Your father is buying you a new car? How did you squeeze the money out of him?” He chuckled and muttered under his breath. “And you think I’m a tightwad.”

“He’s doing it in the interest of family harmony. It seems that Jack went and bought Jim a new Oldsmobile,” she said. I saw my father let that register, and then his eyes burned red as the rage built up. “Daddy thought that was unfair, especially to Steven, so that’s how he wanted to handle it.”

“I suppose,” my dad groused.

Then Mom turned on the charm. “Barry, I hope you’re OK with this. I meant to talk to you about it first, but it happened so fast. Besides, I really think I would look better in a new Chrysler.” He looked up at her and smiled, then they acted all lovey-dovey which grossed me out. Damn she was good. She painted this whole thing as a way to put their marital rift behind them, and to have Grandfather Crampton pay for it at the same time.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said.

After dinner I went over and picked up Aaron and Nathan, and we went down to Danny’s. Jim was there, surrounded by his friends so he was feeling all brave. That was pretty funny, since I knew most of those guys too, and they wouldn’t back him up very far. “You driving your mommy’s car?” he’d asked, being a smart ass.

“Nope, it’s mine,” I said calmly.

“Your mom gave you her Packard 8?” one of Jim’s friends asked. “That’s a hep car.” Jim glared at him.

“Yeah, she didn’t need it. She’s getting a new one,” I said whimsically. “She got a new Chrysler. Her dad bought it for her.”

“Grandfather bought her a new car?” Jim asked. “Wonder what he’s getting my dad? Maybe I can score his Cadillac.” His friends all laughed.

“Gee, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him when you get home,” I said, pretending to be all nice. Aaron and Nathan started laughing their asses off, and we wandered off to hang out with our friends. Jim left not too long after that.

Today it was all over town about how my grandfather had snubbed my uncle and Jim. This is a small place, and that kind of drama has long legs. It kind of makes me feel stupid, and definitely makes me feel guilty. There are a lot of people here still struggling to make ends meet. But if I put that out of my mind for a little bit, it was really cool to see Jim finally get embarrassed and taken down a notch. My grandfather had basically told everyone that he was an asshole. I agreed completely.

Aaron’s parents had a big party for him at home. It was a blast. His father was in a really good mood, and his mother must have cooked all fucking day there was so much food. It was funny how all of the guys looked similar. Aaron was the oldest, then Nathan, followed by Arnie, Zeke, Fred Junior, and Frank. Frank was Billy and JP’s age. There was a big cake that Aaron’s mom made. Damn, could she cook.

After his party I took him to our house where my mom gave him an envelope with a bunch of money. I don’t know how much it was, but it was a lot. I could tell by the way he argued with her about it. That was stupid, arguing with her. He knew better than that. I dragged him up to my room and treated him to a first-class blow job, then took him back home. It was a good day. I guess all’s well that ends well.

1999

“Wow. I didn’t realize Jim was such an asshole,” Brad said.

“My father was like that with both of us. He fought like hell for both of us, and forgave us if we fucked up,” JP said philosophically.

“I had a hard time figuring out his deal with Bitty,” Brad said. “I mean it just didn’t seem like him, that he’d go out and fuck someone who was practically his niece.”

“I guess you saw the re-emergence of an adolescent Jim,” JP observed. “He was arrogant, cocky, and as Steve said, spoiled rotten. He thought he could get away with anything.”

“No wonder Grandmaman dealt with him like she did when she died,” Brad observed. “She all but shut him out of the process of settling her estate.”

“She knew what he was like, and she was nervous about what would become of him without any controlling influences,” JP said. “But looking back on these past few years, I think he’s done quite well.”

“You’re kidding me,” Brad said. “You think that fathering JJ was ‘doing quite well’?” I smiled at those two, thinking of how much they reminded me of the diary I had just read, of the battles between my father and Tonto.

“I didn’t say that,” JP snapped. He said it so much like Tonto would have I almost laughed out loud. “I think that after my father died, Jim lost his moral compass for a while. I think it took him a bit to truly become his own man, free from my father’s influence. He’s done that now, he’s grown a lot.”

I thought about that. “I think it appears that way, but I would not be surprised to find that the child is still buried beneath that veneer, still capable of some rather infamous things.” JP gave me a dirty look for saying such a negative thing about his brother, but then it softened. He’d learned to consider my words and respect my opinions.

“Then let us hope that the child remains buried within,” he said sagely.

“Speaking of children, I wonder whatever happened to that kid he had with Eloise?” Brad asked rhetorically. Was there another bastard out there, ultimately destined to land in our lives? Whoever it was would be almost 60, and wouldn’t look like JP at all. I thought about how we’d gotten lucky with bastards, with Marcel and Matt, and thought about how we’d gotten so incredibly unlucky with Brian.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Damn, there does seem to be quite a few children born without the benefit of their parents being married in these stories. I never really thought about it before now.

 

I guess that Jim is like a lot of men. They are not really free to be themselves until their own father is gone. I have to wonder why that is?

 

It is strange to think about how far back the Hayes family as sort of been in and out of the families of each of the three main Claremont families.

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Robbie lost that bet for sure. Reading a out Jim's behavior makes his relations with Bitty that much more believable...like Nick Jim is all over the place.

 

Damn this is a great story, thanks.

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Well I guess Aaron is a Hayes after all. We never heard of him in later stories, so I wonder if he must have gotten killed early in the war and cause the rest of the family to go to hell in a basket!

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