Arrangement

{For some reason my head is off into memories lately, things I have not even thought about for years.

I do that from time to time, so instead of making up crap to write and post I just jot down some crap that really happened.

This is one of those. There is a lead in here to set the time and place, then I get to the story.

This would probably fit in a couple of categories, too.}

++

Thinking about it, this had to be somewhere in circa 1973. My marriage to my first wife Sharon had ended, that period was not the best time in my life.

I didn't want to go off to any war, not really. But government does not ask so in the middle 60's I found myself in some God forsaken country that up until then I had never really even heard of.

We used to go out on patrols, most of the time we saw bushes, jungle, and mud. Sometimes we shot at those bushes, jungle and mud and people hiding in them about a mile away shot back.

I have no clue as to if I ever hit anything, I do know one of the little people as we called them managed to hit me.

Not once but twice. Just blind luck, or being unlucky depending on your point of view. They couldn't see me and I couldn't see them.

I doubt if he ever had a clue as to his success.

That got me a free airplane ticket home.

+++

Home was not the same as it had been when I left, although it did take me about three months to figure that all out.

The on the naughty side wife named Sharon that I left behind was untouched by any other male the day I climbed on the train in Portland.

She had been touched quite a bit by the time I got back home.

Partly my fault, she and I had gotten into experiments. We did things like flash gas station attendants, let guys look up her dress in a small cafe we went to that appeared to be designed for that. At first it was panties but that progressed to no panties. We even had some friends over and played strip poker. Hell, it was the sixties and the world was changing very fast.

Sex was becoming a way of saying hello, I like you although our little coastal town was not as affected as the bigger cities were.

The silly flashing games always got Sharon hot as a pistol. At first she was extremely shy about it but as time went on and she got into that, she became almost blatant.

Then suddenly I was gone, and she was all alone with nothing to do.

It took some digging, some yelling, but finally I got most of the truth out of her.

The first few times were innocent, just out with some girl friends but this is how it starts. Then came a night of a few extra drinks, some of that smoke that was now showing up all over the place.

One of the guys that dropped by the table the gals sat at was better with females than most, and Sharon ended up with him giving her a ride home.

He also ended up staying the night, in my home, in my bed, with my wife!

By the time I got back home things like that had become a regular event, and not with just that one guy.

I had no clue at first, Sharon went right back to being faithful and acting happy with just me. Then one morning I stopped in for a beer after working graveyard shift at the mill, and ran into Bobby.

Bobby was a sort of bud at that time, and he was also drunk. That was nothing new, except being drunk at 7:30 in the morning usually suggested a problem.

He told me about this guy named Doug.

"That guy spent half the time you were gone fucking your old lady, I don't know how you put up with that shit!" Bobby blurted out.

Let's just say that started the ball rolling, Sharon and I had one hell of a lot of fights.

I have to admit I was not exactly an angel while overseas myself. The days when they let us have a break from being cannon fodder were often spent with some of the native women. There was no shortage of them, and nearly all of them were completely willing.

No big deal, I was a guy so that was expected.

Our real women were supposed to sit at home with their hands in their laps and wait.

One sided? Yea, but also the way things were.

+++

So by the 1970's, I was single again and living a couple of hundred miles away up North.

Women? I guess at that stage of my life I didn't like them very much. I vowed to myself that I would never be second fiddle to any man that walks the Earth. If a woman was with me, she had better god damn be with ME, or else!

The rental cabin I lived in was at one time a motel, the owners had converted the 6 units into full time living quarters.

Nice and cheap, exactly what I needed at the time.

One couple lived right across from me, the other four units were all women. Two of those had a pair of women living in them, the other two were singles.

They all eyed me carefully for perhaps two weeks, then I became part of the furniture, the bushes in the rather nice little well tended courtyard.

The couple were nearly always gone, other than wave when I saw them, that was it. Down on the end were two females, a shade older, and they clearly liked each other.

Which left four women unattached.

Of those, the cabin with the other two women was like a freeway, it popped into my head that those two gals had a little home business going on.

One day I saw the County Sheriff show up, he stayed an hour also. So there was no point in being concerned about anything.

Guys would show up, knock on the door while looking around furtively, then go inside for around an hour or so. The next one would show up about 15 minutes later, same thing.

That left Shelly, a chubby 25 year old dishwater blond, and Sandy, whose one goal in life was to be a musician.

Shelly worked in the local flower shop, she was constantly bringing home hanging baskets. The owners of the place didn't mind that, because it really did make the yard look nice.

I heard Sandy out there playing her guitar one sunny afternoon, and I had spent a short stint years before in a band. Back then it was "Leaving on a Jet Plane" and stuff like that, which evolved into "Proud Mary" and I could hit the licks with the best of them.

So I picked up my old Epiphone 12 string, a real one, not the current cheap Japanese version, and went out there.

Shelly looked at me and made an excuse, went inside her cabin.

"Oh, do you play?" Sandy asked me.

"Yea, a little. Mind if I join you?" I asked.

We sat there and played, after spending maybe 20 minutes getting the two tools tuned to each other.

Sandy sang a few numbers, her voice was clear and crisp with a bit of a nasal twang. I had a pretty good range, I could handle baritone, or switch to tenor rather easily, depending on the tune.

I did one number that was a solo, Sandy sat and watched with a big smile. When I finished, someone started clapping and I looked over to see the two lesbians sitting on their tiny porch listening.

"Gee, Danny. You are amazing!" Sandy told me, reaching out to pat my leg.

It had been perhaps six months since any female touched me at all, having someone like my efforts made me feel good and Sandy's hand was patting me rather high on the thigh.

Plus Sandy had on a white T-shirt and no bra, her nipples were making bumps in the cloth.

Of course I got an erection, of course I did. I lifted my leg to try and hide that, Sandy got a smirk on her face.

"Want a beer?" She asked.

"That sounds good." I replied.

Off we went to her cabin.

That was one fine afternoon, and it went right on into the evening. Her body was not spectacular, she was soft and completely female, plus she was also extremely eager.

It was nearly midnight when we were both done, that was one of those "just happened" scenarios all of us know about.

"Please don't tell Ray." Sandy told me at the door as I was leaving to walk across to my own cabin.

That brought me right to a stop. Who in the hell was Ray?

I found that out a few days later, Ray turned out to be the long haul truck driving boy friend.

Sharon and all of the shit we went through before, all of the cheating and lying flooded right back into my head.

Had I known about the boyfriend I would not have touched Sandy with a ten foot pole! By then, my head was wrapped around things changing in my life.

I didn't say anything to Ray though. I did see him come walking in and opening Sandy's door, he didn't knock or anything.

Of course not, Sandy was his woman and of course she was sitting there waiting faithfully for him to arrive, sure she was.

Just a couple of days earlier I had myself stuffed into every hole she had at least once, and damn near chewed her slightly flabby tits to oblivion.

Then Ray took off on another of his trips to God knows where, and he couldn't have been out of sight for more than 30 minutes before Sandy was knocking on my door.

I told her what I thought of that in no uncertain terms, things got loud and at one point Shelly came out and looked our way.

"Go fuck yourself, Danny!" Were the last words Sandy said to me as she stomped off.

Needless to say, we didn't play any more guitar together.

+++

I was at work when a guy I didn't know came into the shop, he said he had heard that I could play and sing.

After a short conversation, I found myself over at his house practicing.

Next I was up on a stage again, doing a mix of country and pop. The club was a tiny little bar, they had a standard fare restaurant in the next room.

If any of you have ever been to Seaside, Oregon, you probably know the place. It was still there the last time I was in town, some 15 years back.

Each evening it filled up with housewife types, the ones with husbands working swing shift at the mill.

The other band members took advantage of that, not me though. I would have nothing to do with any woman I thought might be attached, which meant I had nothing to do with any of them at all.

There were quite a few clear attempts, I saw panties in the closer tables since the angle from the low stage was almost perfect, and I also saw more than one female nipple.

Word got around that I was either gay or something was wrong with me. I didn't bother to respond to any of the comments.

One day a man came into the shop and asked me if I could handle a keyboard. I just happened to be able to, so he asked me to sit in with them since their keyboard player was sick.

Their group was booked into the Armory which was a rather big deal in the little town.

The called themselves "Paul Revere and the Raiders", I had never even heard of them myself although I did hear of them later on.

That was my very first and only gig ever with a top professional group, my job was to fill on the organ and keep my mouth shut. It was top pay, too, I got $80 for two nights work

Just about everybody in our town showed up, too. At one point I saw Sandy dancing with her boyfriend Ray. I remember thinking it was a good thing I said nothing about having a four hour long stint in bed with his girl friend, Ray was sort of big and mean looking.

Of course she completely ignored me.

After that group left town, I was rather popular for a few weeks. People I didn't even know said hi and struck up conversations with me. Even the little shop I ran picked up business, and even more people came to hear us play at the little bar.

One night I looked up and the Will Logan Trio that was playing up at the Motor Inn had come down to see what was going on.

We had everybody in our bar.

Women? They were suddenly everywhere, and a few went out of their way to get my attention. That didn't work, I was still down on females. I went to the club by myself and I went home by myself.

I think my mood was even worse, Sandy had cheated on her guy, and made me a cheat in the process.

During that period, a few times Shelly, the slightly chubby gal that lived in our complex said hi with a smile.

I said hi back and that was it.

One evening I was sitting in the yard all by myself, playing softly. Shelly came out and asked if she could sit and listen.

"Sure." I told her. Shelly was about the only female I knew that didn't say something, make some hint or dress with the intention of getting me to look. In all of that time, I never saw her go out on a date, never saw any men come over.

To be honest, I really didn't pay any attention to her at all, it was just hard to not notice things since she lived right there, not 30 feet away.

As I was playing one tune, Shelly closed her eyes and started to hum, she slid in exactly on key and filled the tune nicely. It sounded so nice I stretched it, that is when a song should end but bars get added to make it longer for those of you who don't play.

"That sounded really nice." I told her. Her eyes flashed open, I realized she had drifted off to someplace else.

That happens when a person gets completely into the music, you became a part of it.

She thanked me in a small voice, blushed profusely and went back inside.

That is a tiny little thing right there, but I noticed it.

+++

A couple of weeks went by, I was in my cabin watching TV when there was a knock on the door.

"Can you help me Danny? Something is terribly wrong!" She blurted out. There was a trace of panic in her voice.

I let her in, not having a clue. Then in the light, I saw it.

Both of her arms were covered in blisters, so was her face on one side.

"What in the world is that?" I asked her.

"I don't know, I don't know, Oh my God!" She was nearly freaking out.

"We need to get you to emergency." I told her.

"I can't, I don't have any money. Do you have some lotion, something?" She asked.

"I can go get something if we can figure out what it is? What were you doing?" I asked.

"Just making some baskets, arrangements to hang out in the yard." She told me.

That was when it hit me.

"Where is the basket you were working on?"

"Over at my place."

"I will be right back." I headed over there, her door was unlocked. Her little cabin was neat as a pin, and sitting on the table were some yellow flowers, alongside was some Salal, right next to that was a large pile of Poison Ivy.

"Oh, shit." I thought. That is a nasty plant, we had a few of those around when I was a kid growing up and a couple of times I had touched it myself.

It itches like nothing you can imagine, the skin breaks out into blisters, scratching it makes it worse.

The stuff was growing in a patch right in some Salal, and Shelly had harvested the pretty leaves.

Hugging the bunch of leaves, she had carried those back to her truck, placing them in the bed.

Since she worked in a flower shop, one would think she would know but she didn't. The plant is rather rare in Oregon, because when it does start to grow someone sprays it.

"What am I going to do?" She was hopping up and down, clearly in extreme distress.

I remembered what my Mother used, Calamine lotion. My Grandmother swore by Iodine, too. Back then a person could buy both in any pharmacy over the counter.

I told Shelly to just sit there, and no matter how bad it got, to not try and scratch it. Then I headed to the store to get what I needed.

I was back in 20 minutes, Shelly hadn't moved but she was crying.

I began to apply the lotion to her arms and face, she sat and let me do that.

Just as I was getting done, she looked at me with her face flaming.

"Danny, it is all over my....." Her voice trailed off.

"Oh. Darn. Well, here, take this and..."

"No. You go ahead and do it, some of it is on my back and I can't reach."

"OK." She started to tug off her shirt, I told her to wait and went in and got a garbage bag. Her clothes were going to be contaminated, you don't even dare burn the stuff because if you breathe the smoke it can get into the lungs. The best things to do is seal off the plant, and seal any clothing also.

I took her top, by now I had my work gloves on. I was trying to not look at her bare breasts, the streak of redness was all up one side and across one breast. Hell, she must have really hugged the damn plant!

"These too?" She pointed at her blue jeans.

"No, I think..."

"It's on my tummy and hip, too."

"OK. I'm sorry, we have to..."

"It's OK, Danny. I trust you."

Shelly stripped naked, her hands started to come around to cover her pubic hair but I had to stop her. She might have transferred the stuff to that most sensitive spot.

She sighed, resigning herself to what was now an extremely delicate situation.

With the clothing secured, I led her into my bathroom and had her get into the shower. Her body was certainly a mess, she looked like she had rolled in the stuff. The reddish streak ran all the way down, right next to her groin.

There was no way on God's green Earth to protect her modesty.

Once she had completely washed, I again coated her down with the lotion. I knew very well that it was going to be several days before she would begin to get over the stuff.

Then I went in and scrubbed the tub carefully.

She also could not go home to her cabin, I saw the pile of leaves she had on her kitchen table.

Finding a sheet, I covered her and put her on my bed. Then I went over to her cabin, bagged all of the plant and washed the place down with a strong bleach solution. I wasn't sure that would even work, but it was what I had.

Shelly was sound asleep when I got back. I took up residence on my far too short couch. It was one miserable night.

The next morning, Shelly was feeling better but the blisters had matured. Some of them were open and draining, so again I had her bathe carefully.

I did my very best to not look at her nakedness, that is not an easy thing to do. I saw her watch me through slitted eyes and attempted to keep a straight face.

Once washed and patted dry, I again applied the lotion. Again she slept, by evening she was improving.

I went over and washed her cabin down again with a mixture of stuff the man at the pharmacy suggested. I hoped that would do the job.

By then the back of my own hands were breaking out, Shelly saw that and felt terrible about it.

But it was minor, I dabbed myself with the lotion.

By Saturday Shelly was clearing up, enough that I went over to her place and got some underwear, a skirt and blouse.

Now dressed, she seemed to relax.

I fixed a nice dinner, after we sat and watched TV.

"Danny, thank you so much. You are a wonderful man. No one has ever seen me...you know...and you didn't do anything, you just tried to help me."

"I am sorry, I had to. I didn't want to embarrass you, but...?"

"Well? Did you...did you...?" Her voice trailed off and she blushed.

"Did I what?"

"Did you...like me?" Her face really turned red.

"Well, yes, of course. But I was just trying to...?"

"I know. I am fat, aren't I?"

"No, not really. You are just..I guess soft, feminine is the word."

"You really think so?" She smiled at what I said.

I managed to not laugh, Shelly at best was wildly shy. Then she had to strip naked in front of a man she barely knew?

"I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you have beautiful breasts." I told her, almost teasing.

"They are really small." She said quietly.

"Actually, they are close to perfect for your size." I smiled.

Shelly went quiet, nothing more was said.

The next day I once again washed down her cabin, then thinking it was all under control she went back. Over the next few days the sores scabbed over and healed, finally coming off and leaving her skin clear again.

She must have thanked me at least 50 times. She also seemed to be around a lot more than before, often when I was outside playing she would come out and listen. A few times she slipped in with that humming, that perfect blending.

That part I liked.

One day I was playing a Beatles tune, Shelly began to sing the words. It was the first time she ever sang. I kept the guitar in the background so I could hear her, she had one of the most beautiful natural voices I had ever heard.