Redwood Nine: Season 03 Ch. 02

Season 3

Ch. 2 Et Vobis, Fratres, ópere et omissióne, orare pro me

The sheets of folded paper and ink, were the only things that kept Clay in touch with home. The words written on them, letting him know he was still who he was before all this, that there was something to return to. Clay folded the pages and slipped the picture of JT's old bike back into the envelope and tucked it into the top pocket of his jacket. He heard the command to mount up and fall in line to board the plane, making this the last friendly flight he would be taking for a while.

Sitting in the living room at the farm, Poppy read aloud Clay's last letter to everyone and knew that on that day, he would be committing himself to risking his life every day. He was twenty five hundred miles away now and going another sixty four hundred, before he would enter into a conflict that had escalated into a full blown war, with America taking the stand to throw more at the North Vietnamese than they could handle. Their tactics were proving futile, but no one paid attention to that fact and stayed the course.

Flag draped boxes held the results on the tarmac, as row upon row were laid out after their final return flight. The hardest part for most to accept, was the average age of nineteen. Young men who had only just begun their lives, were given a uniform and a gun and told to be a soldier. Childhood games of playing war, had no bearing on preparing them for the reality of Vietnam. Too many faces held the shock of their death on them, never imagining a reality like the one they were in.

A group wish was given to Fate, the hopes it would be added into the scheme of things and bring their friend home again. No more could be done other than that, ending the circle and that part of the day. Bodies were back outside and into the fields, tending to the new shoots and weeding around them. Tinkerbell wandered freely about the grounds, happy to be around everyone. The chickens were producing more than enough eggs to keep everyone happy with their fill, as well as the ones that made a tasty dinner.

Walter and Golden pulled through the new gate and gave the horn a blow. Heads turned to them, as they got out and waved everyone over. There in the back of the bed, were a mating pair of geese and a family of ducks.

"Thought you might like a little crackling duck, or goose for Thanksgiving, this year."

The girls saw the ducklings and instantly loved on them. Walter shook his head and smirked at them.

"Don't get all attached to them, you'll be calling them dinner soon enough."

"No, Walter, they're so cute."

"They turn into big ones like the parents and make a good meal. You'll need three or four to feed the lot of you."

"No way, Walter. That's so cruel."

"Girlie, you got to eat, to live. You don't want them, I'll be serving them up come thanksgiving myself. My missus might have left, but her recipes didn't. I know my way around a kitchen still."

"Don't sweat it girls, we'll take care of them and do the deed at Walter's, so you don't see it. Funny, haven't heard one of you complain about eating chicken."

That made them stop and think about that thought, about the difference, or lack of it, between the two. They looked at the chickens pecking away lazily, content in their lives to exist that way, then looked at the baby ducks again. Attachments to familiar feelings, had to be severed, replaced with a primal need to exist, to look at the ducklings and think of food. Lenny and Otto grabbed the cage with the geese, while Tom and Wally took the ducks and headed to the barn.

A bale of chicken wire was brought out, along with wire staples and they began fencing in an area for the new arrivals to live in. Walter knew all the tricks to making it go as easy as possible and in less than half an hour, they had two areas fenced in and they brought the cages out and opened them, letting the animals get to know where home was now.

Half a world away, the hot, humid stench of Vietnam, assaulted the noses of the new arrivals. Gear was unloaded and picked up off the tarmac, as S. Sgt. Greeley continued lining them up when they were ready. They boarded the troop carrier and took a short ride across base to their camp, a place they would call home for a long time to come. The carrier pulled to a stop, rocking everyone in the back enough to bang heads. Clay chuckled and rapped his knuckles on his helmet, as he looked at the guy beside him rubbing his head.

"They told us to wear them at all times out in the field."

Gilmore put his helmet on and looked at Clay with derision, not all that happy with the explanation for the lump on his head. They dismounted and were shown to their quarters, picking out bunks of their own. They unloaded their duffel bags into their footlockers, stowing away their gear and the last remnants of home. Clay had his pictures pinned to the wall at the head of the bed, using the pins left behind by the soldier before him. It was ironic, in a cosmic sort of way that, while Clay was landing and settling in on the bunk with his guns, the soldier who occupied his bunk before, was settling in for his first night back in the states, as his star spangled coffin was placed on the stand, making him number 317 on the list of the dead to line the hanger.

"Attention!"

Greeley's booming voice brought bodies to their feet and lined up at the end of their bunks, ramrod straight and eyes forward. Captain MacAfee walked in and took a short stroll down the line, looking at the men and what they were occupied with doing, before he came in. He stopped at Clay's bunk, noticing all his weapons on the bed and his pistol disassembled, obviously in the process of going back together.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Private Morrow, sir."

"Why is it, you're the only one cleaning your weapons?"

"Sir, if my guns won't fire, I'm a dead soldier, sir."

"Did the rest of you hear that? He's a dead soldier if his guns won't fire. Remember that every time you're assigned to go on a mission. You're nothing but target practice for the Cong, if you can't fire back. Good work, Morrow, you'll make a good soldier."

"Thank you, sir. I'll always do my best."

Clay snapped a salute to the captain and received a quick one in return. The captain walked to the end and looked in the faces of each man, judging them against Clay and what his command would be like. No sooner did authority leave, when disgruntled faces looked at Clay. He stared them back down, showing his own strength of character, pointing at them as he spoke.

"Hey, I'm here to hunt, I don't know about you guys. All I know is, daddy said keep your gun clean and ready to fire, if you want to be eating dinner. I ain't here to make friends, I'm here to kill gooks, period. I got friends back home, good friends, ones I know will still be alive at the end of the month. You want to sit around getting all friendly and shit, go ahead, but I intend on coming back after every mission and I don't give a shit if you don't, got it?"

No one wanted to challenge Clay on his take on things, most of it making complete sense to them. Despite the awareness to the reality of where they were, Clay wasn't making inroads to being an accepted member of the unit. He sat on his bed and had the pistol back together and cocked in thirty seconds. He laid it down and took his rifle up, dismantling it in about the same time, then began cleaning and oiling each part carefully. Clay wasn't completely despised, the knowledge of their weapons being the only protection they had to make it home again, had kits coming out and the tedious task of weapons maintenance was put to task.

Greeley's form darkened the door way a moment later.

"Briefing in ten minutes, look sharp, be sharp."

His outline left and faces understood one thing, there was no more training, it was time to prove themselves as soldiers. Clay was first in the tent and sitting front row centre, before anyone else came in. Captain MacAfee glanced at Morrow, offering the slightest of recognition for his efforts. Once the platoon was assembled and ready, he pulled down a map of the area they were interested in. The mission was more a recon, than combat, but warnings to be sharp were heeded well.

Charlie was seen in the area and they needed to know if a camp was being set up anywhere. It would be a night drop, so they had plenty of time to prepare their equipment and themselves. They had to scout through five miles of dense forest and make it to their rendezvous in six hours for pick up at the LZ by chopper.

The club rode into Stockton with the Olds and Willy's wife, Becky was smiling happily looking at it. The paint and chrome sparkled, the leatherette seats glowing in the sunlight. JT pulled up on his old bike and Willy shook his head at the state of it.

"You weren't shitting me about being original. Nice bullet hole. Runs good, no smoke. Still, I got my work cut out for me. JT, this is my old lady, Becky. Becky, this is JT and this is the convertible we might get. Not bad, man. Very clean."

"Nice to meet you, Becky. Told you Jake took good care of it. This car has been loved, brother."

"Yeah, it shows. So, Baby, want to see what it feels like to drive and piss your sister off some more, when we pull in with this beaut?"

"Ooooh, yes. I love it already, it's gorgeous."

Willy didn't need to know any more and reached out to shake JT's hand.

"Deal. After the happy sex last night, tonight should rock my socks off."

Becky punched Willy's arm, making him cuddle her to him roughly.

"Good on you, brother. Glad it's worth it to you. Really makes things work out for all of us. My buddy should be getting stowed away about now and looking at his first mission soon. You have all the time in the world to do it, so make it as nice as you can."

"No sweat, JT. I'll put everything I know into it and Mutt will do the wickedest paint on it, unless Otto does it."

"No, Willy, you have Mutt do his stuff on it. It should be from your shop."

"Thanks, Otto. Mutt won't disappoint you guys, I promise."

"I know neither of you will. Shit man, if it looks anything like the ones out front, Clay will shit himself."

"Cool, man. Alright, see you in a few days to get your parts. Let's see how this baby feels and get a taste of cage riding."

"When was the last time you drove a car?"

"I was nineteen, so almost ten years now. Don't worry, I still know how to do it. Like riding a bike, right?"

JT and the others laughed, realizing their concerns were unfounded, but well intended. Willy climbed in and slid the seat all the way back and admired the ample leg room for his size. He gave a thumb up and started it, as Becky slid up beside him and waved goodbye to the guys. Willy turned on the radio and drove away with a sense of pride on his face, Becky, a look of satisfaction that was pure gloating. JT shook his head and laughed, as the couple vanished into traffic.

"What's so funny, JT?"

"Just thinking of Willy and Becky. They just seem like the oddest couple. He's more like us and she's more like Marlene, without the smarts."

Those that got it laughed, while those that didn't just shrugged, as they got on the bikes again and followed JT back to the clubhouse for a meeting. JT wanted to appoint some new positions, so club business was taken care of and the money was accounted for. Tom and Wally were too busy with the increase in retail operations, leaving Otto, Chico and Keith, as potentials for the positions. The other order of business, was the decision on new prospects. Since the protest, many of the town's young men were showing up at the clubhouse, asking to become members. Some of the young women wanted to get to know them better too, having made it quite clear they were very interested in coming around and 'getting to know them better'.

The bikes were lined up and quietened down, leaving a pounding peacefulness in their ears, then bodies made themselves comfortable in the clubhouse, to await the news from JT.

"Guys, looks like Operation Takeover worked and the town likes what we did. We couldn't ask for more support right now. Understanding that, we've had several guys showing up and wanting to join us, so let's have a vote on electing new members, yea, or nay."

New members were easily desired, as several of the young men interested, were already good friends with the club members. The next issue was an agreement of a time period to prove themselves and one year was the minimum anyone felt good with. It was voted on and passed, then what a prospect was required to do, to prove his worth. Servitude was the most likely requirement, with ideas ranging from demeaning, to well-intended, thrown out for consideration. JT disregarded the nastier ones and took notes on which ones to implement.

He finally got to the new positions he wanted to have and explained the need for them. It came down to the members deciding first, if they wanted the position and secondly, if the club agreed to their nomination. Secretary-Treasurer was the most important to have and the three members looked at each other, deciding who should hold the position.

"I don't know enough about that shit to do it, man. I don't write English that good and that counts me out."

"No problem, Chico, that's cool. So, it's between Otto and Keith, then. Guys, we really need someone to do this. I know both of you got what it takes, so should we just vote between you?"

The guys called for a vote and JT asked for yeas and nays on Keith and there were more nays than yeas, making Otto the new Sec. Treas. for the club. The table was pounded on and Otto was congratulated, albeit with reservations on his part.

"Dude, it's easy. You keep a total of the money and what comes in and what goes out. When we have a meeting like this, I need you taking the minutes, to know what was talked about and what decisions we made. I can't do it all myself and it's important, Otto. Do it for now, until we can find a replacement, okay."

"Okay, JT. I'll do it for the club, brother. I can do numbers and shit."

"Right on, Otto."

JT handed the notebook of meeting notes to Otto and told him to close off this meeting, it was time to celebrate. Bottles of Jack Daniel's and tequila were brought out and shots of each poured. Joints were added to the mix with music and the afternoon became boisterous. The sunlight cracked through the darkened interior, as the door was opened and the guys saw several young women looking nervously in at them.

Lenny was up and over to them first and welcomed them in, holding the door for them and closing it behind them. The four females walked over to the club and stood smiling, as Lenny came up.

"So, let's start with some names, shall we? What's your name sweet thing?"

"Judy."

"And yours?"

"Lydia."

"Veronica, but I like Ronnie better."

"I like it too, and your name, darling?"

"Jessica, but I like Jessie."

Lenny pointed out each member and told them their names and then introduced himself.

"So, how can we help you young ladies?"

Jessie seemed the bravest and spoke for them.

"We really like you guys and your bikes, they're like, really cool."

"Thanks, baby, that's nice. See, we're not bad guys like everyone says we are."

"We don't think you're bad, not like that bad, like they do. Can we party with you?"

"Want to drink some beer and smoke some pot, do you?"

"Yeah, we'd really like to do that. We all smoke grass and everyone, but Lydia has drank beer."

The other girls nodded in agreement and the guys were interested in the anxiousness of the girls to join them.

"Are you girls old enough to drink?"

"I am and so is Ronnie, but Lydia and Judy aren't, they will be next year."

"Close enough. So want a beer and we'll roll a couple of joints?"

"Sure, cool!"

The exuberance on their faces, had the fridge door opened and four beers brought out and opened. The guys made room for the girls to sit and stood around them, checking them out a bit more closely. The music was turned back up, getting the mood up as well. Beers were swigged and the joints were soon inhaled, putting the girls in the party and the bravery to start flirting and showing the real reasons they were there.

"So, you really like us, do you? Which one do you like better?"

The girls became nervous, having to divulge their love interests. Eyes were cast to their choices, but voices were too afraid to confirm them.

"You know, that's not really fair, Lenny. This is a club and every member is equal, so the girls should like us all the same way, right?"

"That's true, JT. So girls, do you like us all?"

Nods and yeas were given, showing no opposition to it, the friendliness getting more playful, as the girls relaxed into the club atmosphere. Lenny made the first real move on Jessie, looking to see how friendly the girls wanted to be. If one could be persuaded, the others would join in and follow along.

He began kissing her, getting more aggressive in his approach, as he tongued the unsuspecting girl into seduction. The other girls watched her, knowing what she did, was what they would be expected to do.

Lenny's hand left her face and travelled to her chest, caressing her just above the cleavage of her firm breasts. The soft moan from her throat, had Lenny getting bolder and slid it down and cupped the tender mound, squeezing it softly. Jessie's hand grasped at Lenny's hair in growing lust, as her mouth continued to accept the invitation, to show her feelings for the club. She never even flinched in protest, as Lenny's fingers began undoing the top buttons of her blouse.

The other girls became nervous, but aroused, wondering if their experience would be like that, if they accepted an invitation from one of the guys sitting beside them. Lenny opened the blouse and bared Jessie's body to her jeans, the flush across her breasts getting brighter, her breathing getting deeper from arousal. Knowing what was desired from her, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, slipping her arms from the straps and dropping it beside her. Lenny's hand caressed her creamy skin softly, the dark, pink nipples swelling in stiffening pleasure.

That was all the guys needed to see and they began working on the other three, finding a nervous acceptance to the advances, changing to desirous enjoyment, finding their initiation would be equally arousing as Jessie's. Breasts were shared between members, the girls finding the multiple stimulation, as exotic as anything imagined before. The guys practised all the moves and techniques the commune had provided them with and it overwhelmed the new initiates to no end. Their bodies were explored and stimulated beyond what they had ever conceived of.

Lenny got up from the couch and began undoing his pants, as Jessie anxiously looked on. Everyone had to put a halt on what they were doing, as they watched Jessie help Lenny out of his pants and without hesitation, took a hold of his semi-erect cock and stroked it with her fingers. Looking into his eyes, she slid off the couch to her knees and opened her mouth. Every pair of eyes, male and female, absorbed the scene and felt the ecstasy in themselves, as Jessie worked the thickening member deeper and deeper. There was an understanding, that was taken by all the girls, that their initiations would be a display of their sexual talents and what they were willing to do. Jessie was setting the standard to follow so far, so eyes spoke of their acceptance to continue doing that.

Guys began standing and opening their pants, letting the four girls have two cocks each to enjoy. They took each one and every guy let the nubile beauties explore their boundaries of acceptable sex. Members looked at other members and all eyes said they had found something new to enjoy. The eagerness to please, far outweighed the lack of talent, as the girls started to be rewarded orally for their efforts. Once cocks were satisfied, they were all stood and stripped down to the flesh, as the guys took their turns on them, showing them oral satisfaction unlike anything they had felt, or lusted for.