The Crew Pt. 09

It's been a while since my last installment. Life, distractions, the Universe and stuff. You know. But Jamie and The Crew and I are back. And naked as usual. Most of the time. This chapter builds on the previous ones, so you'll probably want to review them. Naked yourself, if logistically possible.

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I knew my mother had already been and gone when I woke up. There was a sheet and blanket pulled up and over me, just like when I was six. My stereo had been turned off along with my reading and writing lamp. The clothes I had tossed aside when I walked through the door the night before had been folded neatly and laid on the ottoman, along with my Mud Hens shirt which I clearly remembered hanging on one of the moose's antlers over the fireplace...just to jerk her chain. The notebook I'd left lying open on purpose for her to read was closed and back on the stand beside my recliner. The empty Rolling Rock bottle was missing, as was the left over twenty dollars from Clam Shak. It was her money after all. She knew I wouldn't keep it, especially after my dad roped her into that sucker bet over Hannah.

She had even made coffee. Her empty cup was in the sink. The rest was waiting for me when I got up. I estimated the time to be ten in the morning or thereabouts. Sunlight was streaming through the east side windows. I didn't bother showering. Yet. I just relieved myself, grabbed some coffee and went outside. My morning wood showed no signs of subsiding, but I was still too fuzzy to care. Mom and Sharon were laying out a late breakfast or a snack of some sort at the picnic table under the willow tree. Nibbling and chatting. Naked as me. Big surprise.

Whenever I see them together, especially nude, I'm amazed at how much they look alike. Facial features. Quirks in their expressions. The wave of their hair. The big full breasts. The way their hips flare gently out from a narrower waist. Even the shape and display of the folds that usually stand out like the outer edges of floral petals from the crevice of their mons. The dark brown edges which match the variegated dark brown of their nipples. My mom is shorter and thicker in build, but both are gorgeous...to me...and neither has sags of any kind anywhere. Not even the little tummy paunch that some women begin to develop approaching age forty or so. The degree to which Scooter resembles them is amazing. Taller than my mom, shorter than hers, with adorable breasts that are by far the smallest of the three, but still stamped from the same mold.

They waved and motioned me over. I checked my cock and stayed where I was for a while. Content to watch them. I wasn't quite awake enough yet for human interaction anyway. I leaned against the door jamb, sipping and savoring my first caffeine of the morning and waiting for it to kick in. Enjoying the feel of the sun on my skin and the background sounds of the birds and the farm animals.

I stepped back inside long enough to refill my cup before finally joining them under the willow. They knew I'd surface eventually. There was a coffee carafe on the table along with a plate for me. Sharon had made up an oatmeal cake with coconut caramel glaze and prepped a big bowl of fresh chopped fruit from the garden orchard. Two of my major weaknesses. Each of them soundly kissed me good morning and wrapped me up in happy boob crushing hugs. Each smiled, pretending to ignore their casual contact with my still swollen member. Our family is like that. I thought back to the short busty Vicki in Rochester. She would fit right in.

We sat at the picnic table and ate. They were discussing the canning progress and wondering if Dad would be up for sweet corn and BBQ ribs for supper. He was still sleeping. The ride from New York, even when treatments went well, took a lot out of him. He wouldn't get much of his stamina back for week or more.

For the most part, I simply drank coffee and ate and woke up, half listening, picking up details on doctor's reports I hadn't yet heard. When their conversation turned to Sharon's descriptions of Oscar and "that adorable little Kelly", I refilled my cup from their carafe, grabbed another piece of cake, and stood, thanking Sharon for breakfast and Mom for picking up. I had no intention of letting myself get sucked into where that one was probably going.

As I turned to walk away, Sharon called, "So Jamie, when are we going to get to meet the Grape Girl?" Too late. Her eyes were on my cock. It jumped. My mother stifled a snicker.

"I'm going back to the barn now," I stated firmly. "I've got some calls to make before I wash all the highway bugs off the Buick."

"Be sure to call Laurel and let her know you're conscious," Sharon laughed. "She phoned the house twice this morning already and I told her to let you sleep in."

"I thought she'd call my phone," I said. "I didn't hear it ring."

"Oh, I was reading your story and you were sleeping so soundly I turned the ringer off so it wouldn't disturb you," Mom admitted. "And as for picking up, it takes forty-five seconds. You almost never wear clothes. Why you drop them and leave them lay where they fall is simply beyond me. Just because you live in a barn..." I was walking away so her voice trailed off, but even after I got back inside my barn house, I heard a few random phrases, spoken more loudly for emphasis. Something about "that poor moose" and "Hueys spraying chemical", and "Colin bet me twenty dollars that..." and "a cluster of grapes for goodness sakes..." I needed more caffeine!

Scooter picked up on the first ring. "Jamie, thank God. I've got so much to tell you. What are you doing today? Can you talk if I come over? Or can you come over here? I don't want to talk on the phone. I missed you so much. You won't believe what's going on. Can Marcie and Petey and I come out to the farm. Bobbi's missing. Is Uncle Colin OK? We won't bother him. I promise. Is my mom still there? Why weren't you answering your phone? We didn't want to bother you in Rochester. We've been looking all over and need your brain."

"Whoa. Hold on," I interupted her. "What do you mean Bobbi's missing?"

"She's missing. Nobody's seen her or heard from her. Jamie I'm freaking out. Can we come over?"

"Sure. Of course," I said. "I've got nothing..."

"We'll be right there..."

She hung up before I could answer any of her other questions or ask any more of my own. I wasn't even sure who made up the "we" that was coming right over. A few minutes later, back at the willow, I asked Sharon if she knew what was going on. She didn't.

"I knew Laurel was getting frustrated," she told me. "She hasn't seen or heard from Bobbi, but she never said anything about her going missing. We haven't talked about much since she left here yesterday morning with Pete and Marcie and Izzy. All she said then was they had some things they needed to do at the river house and around the area there."

"Well, somebody's headed back here with her right now, so I hope we'll find out more," I said. "Pretty much all she said on the phone was 'Good, you're awake. Bobbi's missing. We'll be right over.' Then she hung up."

I knew I had an hour and change to kill before they arrived. I checked on my dad, even though Sharon and Mom said he was fine. Then I actually did scrub the bugs off the Buick and take a quick shower. I was buffing scruffy teenager fingerprints off the chrome bulldog when Petey's van pulled up to the barn around noon. Scooter blew out of the side door before he had time to put it in park. She hit me in a flying tackle.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said, squeezing her arms around me so hard it was difficult to breath. Marcie wasn't far behind her, coming out the same door and hitting me seconds later. Pete and Izzy, driver and shot gun doors, weren't running but looked no less glad to see me. I gave up on buffing the dog. He looked pretty good as he was.

Scooter and Marcie were talking at the same time. Pete and Izzy were trying to help calm them down enough to get a basic outline to me of what was had been happening. Sharon and Mom saw the commotion. They came over to help and find out for themselves what was up. As it turned out, Mom and Sharon took Scooter and Marcie back to the willow. Scooter was frantic. Izzy and Pete and I went into the barn.

The afternoon from there was a blur of fragments. Parts of a whole, for sure, but emerging thread by thread. Patchwork piece by piece. Over the course of the next three hours, a kind of musical chairs sort of thing developed. I ended up back outside for a while, under the willow with Izzy and Marcie. Then I was in the barn with Petey and Scoot. Mom and Sharon moved to the kitchen with Scooter and Pete, then back to the willow with Izzy and and me.

Scooter started to relax and make sense along the way, and details got clearer as various versions of stories got sorted out. My pipe made it out and around the room in the barn with various folks on a couple occasions. And, I saw one of my mom's on the kitchen table as well at one point. I know that I wasn't the only one of the group that spent time with my dad in the living room and walking with him out by the garden. He needed to smoke up and he wanted company, and for the company not to treat him like he was sick. He didn't want to be out of the loop.

I remember Scooter and Dad sharing a bowl in the barn underneath the moose, and Marcie and Izzy...sharing the ottoman...leafing through my notebook. I'm not certain at what point Petey or Marcie or Scooter or Izzy got naked, or when Robb got there, but by four o'clock we were all headed out to the quarry and no one was wearing clothes.

We swam for a good while, then dried in the sun and talked. Much more calmly. Then got hot and swam some more. Gradually, something like a bigger picture began to emerge. Back at the house...later...Sharon and Mom and the girls threw together the kitchen part of supper while Petey and Izzy and Robb got the fire up and threw on the ribs and the corn. My dad was dividing his time between supervising the fire outside and resting and watching TV in the livingroom. The six o'clock movie was playing a Flash Gordon serial. There was a lot of coming and going in every direction. As for me, I went out to the barn, sat down, and started furiously scribbling notes. These notes...

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As best as I could piece together, no one had heard a word from Bobbi while I'd been gone. She didn't show up for work at the diner that Monday before my parents and I left for Rochester. But that wasn't the first time Bobbi had blown off a shift or two without calling in when things went sideways at home. Miss Betty liked her a lot and put up with it over and over. She knew more than a bit about just how volatile things could sometimes be out at Bobbi's home, which was really a run down trailer and lean-to addition with knee high weeds and grass and way too many people in too little space. Letting her work at the diner was Miss Betty's way of trying to help and be a friend. Marcie and Carol were always good about picking up those occasional shifts on short notice, making a little extra money themselves. Everyone went on with business as usual except for Scooter trying to call her.

On Tuesday, the day we had left for New York, Scoot came out to the farm with Sharon as planned. They were working on keeping our roadside farmstand supplied from the garden and orchard, restocking mainly peaches and corn and tomatoes and green beans and emptying money from the honor-pay box a couple times each day. Most of their time, though, was spent on canning and freezing stuff from Wednesday morning through late Thursday afternoon. Scoot still couldn't get anyone to pick up the phone at Bobbi's, but didn't fuss too much. Wednesdays and Thursdays were normally Bobbi's days off. More often than not, she'd do a couple loads at the laundromat in Vicksville, stop by the grocery store to refill the fridge for her sibs, then take off to Cleveland to get away from the trailer and chaos and hang with a cousin who lived there. Maybe she'd left a day or two early.

Thursday afternoon, Pete finished his jobsite deliveries way ahead of time and called to check in with Izzy and Frank. Frank was covering things at the campground and starting to sort through what he wanted to take when he moved out to Boston, so Izzy came by the river house for a little D&D. Marcie had just shown up and was getting into her randomly meddling nude sexy elvish wizard queen routine when Scooter called to invite them all out to the farm...specifically the quarry...for swimming and supper that night. She'd invited Oscar and Kelly too, and they were on their way out from Toledo.

Apparently Kelly and Petey hit it off big time. Oscar and Scoot, not so much. He drove because Kelly's car was in the shop, and anyway he really did want to get to know our friends and family better. But other than skinny dipping and hanging out nude and playing naked chicken with Scooter or Marcie up on his shoulders, he wasn't really interested in more. According to Pete, that didn't stop either girl...or Sharon...from still breathlessly checking him out and teasing him all afternoon and evening. As became clear though, he had a thing for this tiny cute Asian girl with big rectangular glasses whose team had won first place the weekend before at the impromptu clothing optional Magic tournament. He said she reminded him of some popular anime character. She saw him naked and started flirting that night, calling him Fezzik after the gentle giant in Princess Bride.

They must have had a good time. From what I could gather, they raided the no-inhibitions stash in the pantry and broke out the D&D. It got late and the group of them crashed that night at my house in the barn. Oscar passed out in my recliner. Petey and Kelly called dibs on the futon. Marcie and Scooter took over my bed, with Izzy happily sandwiched between them. The following morning, which was the day we drove back from New York, Oscar and Kelly went back to Toledo and Scooter hitched a ride home to the river house with Marcie and Izzy and Pete.

They stopped at the diner for an early lunch and found out that Bobbi had blown off another shift which made three in a row, or five if you counted her two normal days off. Miss Betty was looking a little desperate so Marcie jumped in and started bussing tables and taking orders dressed as she was, in nothing but very very short cut-offs and what was left after ripping the sleeves and the bottom half off a tattered Ramones t-shirt. She doesn't need a bra to hold up her tits so she seldom bothers with one. Yesterday morning was no exception. None of the customers complained and she knew she'd be picking up some major tips that afternoon and evening. The twins and Izzy left her there. Miss Betty would drop her home after closing.

The three of them stopped at Robb's office to see if the field crews needed any last minute supplies delivered. There were only two and Robb had already covered both, so they went out to the river house. Tried to call Bobbi again and again. No one picked up. Scooter was getting nervous.

Scoot insisted on taking a drive to check on the situation at Bobbi's place in person. Pete and Izzy both knew the family out there and wouldn't let her go alone. Plus, Izzy had heard the brakes on her car grinding metal on metal as she tried to back up and turn around. In spite of her protests, he took the keys and had Pete and her follow him in the van as he drove the car slow to the campground. His mom would look at it later and have it road worthy in no time. In spite of being Jack's hippie girlfriend then wife of twenty-two years, Suzie was the hardcore mechanic of the family. Grew up with six brothers. All of them motorheads. Frank and Izzy lived in half of her chicken coop turned pole barn and garage.

When the three of them got to Bobbi's, no one was at the trailer except for a pony-tailed fat scruffy guy in greasy jeans and a wife-beater that may have once been white. He had a Harley torn apart on a tarp in a matted down part of what passed for a yard. Scooter said he appeared to have sworn off shaving or bathing. Definitely not Bobbi's dad. He frowned suspiciously, watching the three of them exit the van and go up to bang on the door. "Nobody's home in there," he barked. When asked, he claimed he knew nothing about where Bobbi was and hadn't seen her in days. When they asked who he was, he just mumbled "a friend of the family". He said he was busy and if he saw her he'd tell her to call them. Then he threw down the wrench he was holding, wiped his hands on his shirt, and roughly shoved past Izzy and Pete. They both noticed the pistol stuck in his belt in back and the tatt on the underside of his left forearm. A big numeral "1" with a skull and crossbones over it. The "family friend" ran up the steps and into the trailer. He slammed the door and they heard the lock click. Still, they took a quick look around back. Bobbi's car was gone.

They stopped at a handful of other trailers nearby. None of the closest neighbors had seen her and nobody seemed to know anything. At least not anything they were willing to admit. One woman down a "private" gravel side road tried to give Scooter some "You didn't hear it from me but..." information. She said that there had been a big fight at the house the day after Bobbi had called us. (That would have been Sunday.) Lots of yelling and screaming. Three sheriff's cars showed up. Four people were taken away. That's all she knew. Then an angry looking dude jerked her into their house by her arm, shouting, "Shut up, you stupid bitch! Quit runnin' your mouth. You don't know nothin'!" He glared at Scooter and snarled, "You kids need to mind your own fuckin' business." With that, he slammed the door in her face. They went back to the river house. Tried to calm down and figure out what to do next.

Their call to the sheriff's office was no help at all. Nobody there would confirm or deny any details. Just said that they couldn't discuss any active investigations. They were aware she appeared to be missing but she was a legal adult with a car of her own and could go where she pleased. It was also suggested that they quit poking around and annoying folks who prefer to be left alone.

Miss Betty brought Marcie home around eight. She also brought supper for Maurice and stayed. Marcie came over as soon as she showered. The four of them talked. They were out of things they could do until morning. Izzy called Frank and filled him in. Frank told him to spend the night and not to worry. He had things covered at the campground.

Lacking a better idea, and wanting to get Scooter's mind off the telephone which she kept dialing, they settled on Nugent's. Took the van instead of the boat. They still hit a little of Izzy's swamp weed and rode naked. Got dressed in the parking lot. The van only has one little circular port hole window on the the driver's side in back. Otherwise, it's a tricked out panel truck with a second row of seats.

Early this morning, they were up and back out on Bobbi's road for another pass. Stopping and trying to talk with whoever they saw that they hadn't talked with before. That lasted less than an hour. Nobody wanted to talk and everyone watched them suspiciously.

As soon as they got back to the river house, Scoot started franticly trying to call me. Couldn't get through. Called the farmhouse phone instead. Talked to Sharon who talked to me. I called. The rest you know.

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After the ribs and corn and the clean-up, Robb and Sharon went into the house and hung out with my folks. I smelled euchre and kept my distance. Izzy, Petey, Marcie, Scoot and I went out to the barn. They looked through the rest of my notes but we didn't talk about Bobbi. I think we were all Bobbi'd out for the night. I stacked up a mix of Clapton and this obscure Canadian guy named Bruce Cockburn. His "Stealing Fire" import that had the cut titled "If I Had a Rocket Launcher". I was in that kind of mood. We opened some beers from Dad's fridge in the barn and played ring toss with the moose for a while. Then took a half-hearted swing at another round of D&D. Later, we went back out to the quarry for a midnight dip. Walked instead of taking the Studebaker. Surprised the crap out of Herbie and Janet and three of their visiting cousins up for a family reunion. Two girls and one guy, all a little older than Janet. All of them naked. We told them to them stay and promised not to say anything. They were supposed to be at a midnight movie. They were still there when we headed back to the barn an hour later.