An Old Man Remembers Ch. 05: Conclusion

A few weeks later, Terry was down with a cold so the three of us went out to dinner. After dinner, Mickey said she wanted to detour to see my place and meet my dog about which she'd heard so much. About ten minutes after we got there, she was pals with my hairy buddy and on a first sniff basis. About fifteen minutes after we got there, Pete was fucking her doggie-style while she sucked on me as the dog slept in the corner of the bedroom. I stayed rock hard (Thank you, Viagra) but I never came. And yet, Pete and I rocked her world that night, taking turns fucking her through several wet orgasms. Once, when she was straddling and riding me, Pete was in my mouth. His large tube-steak was reaching an orgasm. Mickey pulled his cock from my mouth and he spewed all over my chest. Just then, Mickey let go of a waterfall leaving me drenched. In fact, I had to change the bedding after they left because my queen-sized bed was a swimming pool of vaginal fluid. I've got a merit badge in swimming so I don't really care. But I prefer a dry bed, you know. Still, the room smelled like pussy and cum for several days and that was nice, too.

A couple of days later, Pete had to fly up to New York to sign the final business papers. He signed everything, met with his personal lawyers and signed a few more documents. Then, as he was leaving the office for the airport, he stumbled, fell to one knee and then fell over dead. Heart attack. Instant. Gone.

Needless to say, we were devastated. Mickey asked Terry and I to fly up to the funeral with her. I needn't tell you how sad we all were. We'd all lost a good friend, a kindred spirit and a fellow traveler. This one hurt. I mean, really hurt. The entire funeral and mourning period took a sad toll. Many tears flowed.

The New York Times had written a beautiful obituary for such an accomplished man. He was buried in a graveside military cemetery with full honors out on Long Island. He was a hero from the Vietnam War having saved his platoon while under fire. There were quite a few people at the cemetery and some from his platoon. Pete had a big backstory. Everyone who even knew a little of it felt deep sadness.

We returned home and for a few weeks things were quiet although Terry and I looked in on Mickey almost daily. She seemed to be in a trance, like a walking, talking morose robot. We tried to distract her but it was so difficult. I sensed that she really wasn't there. Terry and I were concerned how long she'd be in that funk. We decided that we would be there for her just as long as she needed to grieve. Soon after, Mickey called and asked that we join her for dinner as she had some things to tell us.

When I got there, I noticed how dark it was in their house. Mickey still hadn't drawn her curtains and the house smelled musty. Dinner was delivered and we repaired to the dining room.

"I'm glad that both of you are here with me tonight. I have some things to tell you. But first,...," she jumped from her chair with the most activity I'd seen from her in weeks and went to windows, "let's have some light. It's time." She drew back the curtains and pulled up the shades displaying a beautifully bright yellow sun setting into the sea. She stood looking out transfixed, "Pete would have loved this sunset."

Quietly, she returned to her seat and wiped the tears from her eyes. I uncorked the bottle of wine as we dug into the Chinese food containers. She had some papers on the table, too. "So first, let me tell you about Pete's will. Of course, it's in probate now but Pete modified it on the day he passed so eventually, this will come to pass, too. He left quite a large estate to me and also made special bequests to several charities and organizations. But he also made some gifts to his friends and the two of you are among them. Open these envelopes and please, read them aloud."

Terry opened her envelope. 'To our dear friend Terry, you have been a part of our family for some years now but it is only in the recent past that you have become blood. We cherish your friendship, your honesty, your playfulness and your intimacy. I am leaving you a sum of money with the hope that you will use it to travel, something you've always wanted to do. But there is a catch. I would like you to travel with Mickey and be companions. Take her to those places we never visited. Open her eyes to new adventures, which is something you've always done.

To you, I leave the sum of $250,000. I direct my Executor to make this so and to cover any fees, taxes or whatever that might be incurred.'

Tears streamed down from the women's eyes and they gripped each other's hands. It was very still for a few minutes until Terry looked at Mickey and nodded her head. Mickey collected herself and handed me my envelope.

'Ray, you always knew me as just another bum on the beach and that's the way I liked it. You never asked me for anything except my friendship, which I gave willingly. You cleared my head when it was fogged and you kept me centered. You gently led me into new ways to be and feelings to express. You opened me. You were an excellent guide and a friend forever.

I know that your situation has changed from when you were married and it is considerably more humble these days. And I know that we share a love for the sea and so I am leaving you my Sunseeker Flybridge 47. I am also leaving you the sum of $250,000 to maintain and run the boat. Have fun with it. There is one more thing I would you like to do for me. Some years ago, I bought six classic vessels for the purpose of leasing and charter from a dear friend's marina in Fort Lauderdale. He passed on several years ago and now the marina is run by his son, a very fine fellow. I'm assigning you as the agent for those vessels and to discuss their transfer and sale. Whatever money you receive, you are to split with Mickey. Please do this for me.

To you, I leave the sum of $250,000. I direct my Executor to make this so and to cover any fees, taxes or whatever that might be incurred.'

I was gobsmacked. I couldn't speak. Mickey pushed a brown manila envelope over and I stared at the pictures of his boats. I couldn't see them through my tears.

"I think it's high time we got drunk," said Mickey. "My sweet Pete is gone from us but he has left us quite a legacy. Now, let's look to the future and make the most of it, for however long we have on this planet."

I could see that Mickey had moved on and her grief had morphed into a new phase. That night, we told Pete stories and giggled a lot. We drank and smoked up until we passed out cold. The next morning, waking with hangovers seemed like a joyous way to celebrate our friend.

Several months later, probate was complete. Mickey had stored the Sunseeker in a local drydock and now it was my boat. I really had to consider how best to enjoy it. But first, I had to go to Fort Lauderdale.

Mickey and Terry flew to Paris to begin their travel adventure together. They told me that they would return but they didn't say when because they really didn't know. On the night before they left, we were intimate again for the first time since Pete's passing. Mostly, we kissed and caressed Mickey, sharing our love for her. Mickey said that she didn't want to be too physical and that she had decided that no man would penetrate her ever again. I understood and it was perfectly fine with me. Actually, I felt a little funny about the whole thing but we attended to her and made her feel good. That was enough.

My visit to Fort Lauderdale went well. Sam, the son who now owned the marina, showed me four of the boats as two were out on charter. All were beauties and in pristine condition. Sam suggested that I sell him three of the boats and continue to charter the other three. He made me an awesome offer that I couldn't pass up and he also left me with a continual source of income from the charters. It seemed that the charter boats were very popular and always in use cruising the Caribbean. One vessel, at 190', was on a continual, open-ended annual lease to a Miami developer who was quite passionate about it. I placed half of the sale money into an account for Mickey to receive upon her return.

I returned home and went about my business albeit quietly. Except for masturbating when I was feeling backed up, I really wasn't very interested in sex. I continued to walk my dog on the causeway beach, each time glancing at Pete's clearing in the palms hoping to see him. These were somber walks. I was dispirited and slowly disintegrating.

I'm old. I said that when I began this. I seem to be waiting out the days until the final curtain falls. Like Randy Newman wrote, "...buy a little house in Florida and play checkers all day, 'til we pass away." It's just a matter of time. And I have no one. I love my children and grandchildren but I rarely see them anymore. They are all caught up in their life trek. While I love my dog and his wise silence, he, too, is on the calendar. I'm sad and I'm somewhat bitter; Why did she ever leave me and take all my money? Why did my visions and plans never amount to anything? Why do friends die? It's a lot like watching a clock until it's alarm goes off 'not with a bang but a whimper'.

Life throws funny curves; confusing yet obvious, confounding yet inevitable, mysterious yet evidential. One morning, as the dog and I walked along the nearly deserted beach, a middle-aged couple waved to me from that same spot, Pete's clearing. As we walked closer, I noticed that the woman, who was topless, unfortunately covered herself.

"Pardon me, but can I ask you something?"

"If I can answer, sure."

"You're a local, right? I've seen you walking your dog here over the past few days."

"I am. How can I help you?"

"Well, my wife and I are renting a house for the season and we were wondering... I mean, we were curious about if there were any clothing optional beaches in this area? Do you know of any?"

I smiled. "I see that you've been working on your tans in the same spot where a friend of mine used to hide. It's a good spot - very private, no one can see or disturb you. During the week and during the off-season, when there is hardly anyone here, you're in a good place. You can pretty much see anyone coming in either direction but they can't see you until they're just about on top of you. This spot is far enough away from civilization to lay around naked. It's quasi-cool, if you know what I mean."

"Good. We were a bit nervous so that's good to know. But are there any nude beaches in this area? You know, places where we don't have to keep our guard up."

"There's a nude beach about two hours south and another about two hours north but nothing in this area." His face sunk.

"That far away, huh."

"But there is also Pleasure Key, a small deserted island about a half hour from here by boat. It's a popular spot for nudists."

"Hmmm. I'm not a boater. Does anyone have like a ferry service over there? We'd like to check that place out?"

And that's how I started my new business, Pete's Pleasure Isle Charters. For a $150.00 (price flexible) day trip, I'll ferry you out, keep the boat anchored and available and, of course, ferry you back. It's a booming business, I tell you. There is always at least one couple who wants to go out there. It's been amazing, to say the least. I'm busy every day during the tourist season and most days the rest of the year. With my dog onboard, I read, watch some TV, listen to music and cast a line out while my visitors play. Just as soon as we clear the mainland, we all get naked. I am often invited to participate and yes, I've eaten my share of pussy and sucked cocks, as well. It's something to do with my abundant time and it keeps me sort of busy, although I hardly define it a "work".

I suppose that you could say that I'm keeping Pete's spirit alive. And that, I guess, will have to do.