An Orphan (c) By Lee Mariner
March 2003
DISCLAIMER: This story is a fictional gay fantasy and includes homosexual acts involving men and boys. IF YOU ARE NOT OF LEGAL AGE TO READ THIS STORY OR YOU DO NOT APPROVE OF SUCH MATERIAL, PLEASE LEAVE. All characters and events are fictional and unrelated to any persons living or deceased. The use of recognizable locations and names is for esthetic purposes only.
DO NOT ENGAGE IN UNPROTECTED SEX, IT CAN LEAD TO A LIFE THREATENING CONSEQUENCE.
All stories I have written can be found under the name of Lee Mariner in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Authors.
Constructive criticism is appreciated and I am grateful for the assistance my friend Ernie provided in proofreading this episode of An Orphan. Thanks Ernie.
LEGAL COPYRIGHT: This story is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written consent of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission guidelines but it is not to be copied or archived on any other site without the written consent of the author.
Copyright: March 2003 - Author: Lee Mariner - All Rights are Reserved.
Mariner23502@hotmail.com
Chapter #30
I guess as an analogy you could say "you might leave the ILA but not forever." A feeling of nostalgia swept over me when I walked into the subdued gloom of the Piers End and I smelled the stale odor of beer and sweat and puke. The floor was black and tacky from the lack of cleaning. A wet mop would occasionally stir what dirt was left from a halfhearted attempt at sweeping. The booths had dirty, some cracked, mirrors on the wall over them and their tables were Formica. Their cleanliness was only a little better then the wooden tables.
Faded posters of beers no longer made were still tacked on the walls with mechanical and animated signs lit by low voltage bulbs. The bar with its dirty back mirrors was still where it had probably always been, at the rear of the room across most of the back wall. There were three overhanging florescent lights that may have been white when installed but the grime had reduced the lighting to where it barely showed the bottles of liquor and very stale chips on the back bar. A very poor carpenter had tried to conceal them in an attempt at indirect lighting but it contributed to the gloom more than lighting the bar. The bathroom and a small kitchen were on the other side of that wall and there was an opening in the wall where the cook could slide sandwiches and specials through and a tired worn out waitress, who had long ago lost any pretense at having looked attractive at one time, would serve whoever had placed the order. The room was a large rectangle with booths the entire length of the wall too your left when you walked in. A small stage, theoretically for entertainment but actually used for ILA meetings, was on the right as you walked in and there was a large International Longshoremen's Association seal on the wall over the stage. The stage had been built so it was facing into the room and the several tables and chairs that had long ago lost whatever character they originally had. Two television sets hung on the walls but no one was paying any attention to what was being shown. Conversation was always muffled and men would glance furtively at each other but never for long. The Piers End was owned and operated by the union and there was not so secret mob influence but no one objected, at least not out loud.
Several guys I had worked with looked up and sort of grunted a greeting with the wave of a hand and returned to their drinks. There was a game of dominos at one table and several men gathered around a dart game. Some looked and others did not as I walked by trailed by the escorts that had been sent for me.
Mattie and his closest associates occupied a large circular booth on the back wall next to a door with a panic bar that was marked "Fire Exit." Mattie sat on the end of the booths once red vinyl covered seat with one leg hanging over the end of the seat, the toe of his shoe barely touching the floor. Mattie always sat in the same seat facing the front entrance of the bar and for obvious reasons; he could make a hasty exit to his left if he needed too.
Mattie DiAgistino was a big man and some had mistaken, too their regret, his size as being fat. He was probably in his middle 40's, over 6' by several inches, close to 300lbs and solid as a rock. His hair was bushy salt & pepper black and his eyes were black. On the docks you would, if you didn't know, mistake him for just any big friendly, ruddy roustabout. Mattie cultivated that image and nothing could be further from the truth. He was big and ruddy but he was not a roustabout and far from friendly. To get on his bad side was courting an unknown disaster. Everyone knew Mattie was a made man and no one would dare touch him but even he had limits on what he could do and the extreme penalty was not within his power. The mob did not work that way very often since the federal investigations. There were other ways that could be almost as effective and I had seen some of their handiwork in the past. I still could not see why Mattie had sent for me. He had done a couple of favors for me in the past but he wouldn't send two of his goons for me because of that.
One of Mattie's tricks was to fix his piercing black eyes on someone expecting they would flinch and they usually did but he had tried that with me in the past and it didn't work. I respected him but I wasn't afraid of him and he knew it. No one sat at his booth unless they were invited but I didn't have to wait for an invitation since he had sent for me. He had a big smile on his face and waved his arm greeting me robustly as I walked towards him.
"Hey Clyde, long time no see. How've you been?"
"Pretty good Mattie, how about yourself." I said quietly sliding into the booth, eyeing the cute blond headed kid sitting with him.
"Ahhhh, you know how it is, the same old crap. Wanna beer or something?" He asked snapping his fingers and almost immediately a grubby looking man with a very dirty apron appeared as if from thin air.
"Yeah Mattie?" He asked slightly hunched over not looking directly at him.
"Bring the kid a beer."
"He ain't old enough Mattie, you don't want me getting in no trouble with the ABC cops do you? They have been looking for an excuse to shut the place down."
Mattie struggled to refrain from blowing up and he inhaled deep and swallowed controlling himself with an effort. His eyes were blazing and he glared at the hapless man. I couldn't help grinning at his discomfort.
"You dumb fuck I didn't mean DD and besides, when did we start worrying about those knuckleheads? Get your ass in gear and get Clyde a beer or whatever he wants."
"Jack black label straight up with an ice cube in it and a Bud Lite chaser." I said watching Mattie close.
"Jack Daniels. . . . .!!" Mattie said grinning and twisting the almost full bottle of Heinekens in front of him. "I heard you were doing pretty good since you left the docks Clyde. There was a time when you only drank beer."
"Things change Mattie, you know that. Such as two men waiting for me at my hotel, a phone call would have been just as good."
"Maybe yes and maybe no. This way, no lawyers." He said staring at me and twisting his bottle.
The mention of lawyers caused me a moment of panic. I felt a sharp quickening just below the sternum of my chest and the sphincter muscle in my ass tighten. He could only be referring too Robert and that concerned me but I knew Mattie usually had a reason for saying things, I'd just have to wait him out.
"And what do you want with me that requires no lawyers around Mattie?"
Mattie sat expressionless but the way his eyes were shifting around I could see the wheels behind them turning. He didn't seem nervous, it would have surprised me if he was, but he wasn't as cocky as he usually was. I glanced at the boy sitting beside him, his head down, with an almost empty glass of some kind of soft drink, probably Coke. He looked up for a second and I was expecting blue eyes but they were almost pearl gray. He had high cheekbones, full lips and a quick smile flickered at the corner's of his mouth before be dropped his head again.
"Pete, Huey. Take DD with you over too that hamburger joint on East Crosse. Get yourselves a couple of burgers."
The bigger of the two goons protested, "But boss, we can eat here can't we? There's burgers in the kitchen we can fix without going all the way over there." He whined turning around but the look he got changed his mind real quick. "Come on kid, let's go get a burger."
Mattie didn't move forcing DD to slide around the booth. When he got to where I was sitting he mumbled, "Excuse me." I slid out of the booth and when he passed me there was the clean odor of soap, probably Ivory or Dial and a shampoo. He didn't look to be more then 16 or 17 years old and at a glance I could see he was well developed and I resisted the urge to turn and watch as he left with Mattie's two goons.
"Mattie, you didn't send for me just to talk about my friends or how well things are going. What's on your mind?"
"You want another drink?" He said snapping his fingers before I could decline. The grubby bartender appeared with additional drinks and Mattie waited until he left before saying anything else.
"You and your friends got involved in something you didn't know about when you went too Lincoln. I'm not going into a lot of detail Clyde but I have friends that loaned almost $3mil too that lawyer Dickson. How he was going to repay the loan doesn't matter, there's nothing on paper anyway." Mattie said taking a drink from his beer for the first times since I sat down. "You remember Kyle Marx don't you Clyde, the big stud that met you and your friends when you went to the farm after you left court? Marx was a union organizer working out of the Regional ILA office in Jersey City."
"You mean he is a union enforcer don't you Mattie?" I said calmly now that Mattie was talking. "You forget I was in the ILA too."
"You still are kiddo, your dues are paid up. You can call Marx what you want but he was pretty good at his job. He was sent down to help us with a few problems."
I asked Mattie for a cup of black coffee and with a snap of his fingers and a terse order the coffee was sitting in front of me and I grinned taking a sip from the hot cup watching him suck on his bottle.
"What does Kyle Marx have to do with your wanting to see me Mattie? I didn't even know the guy except for the one time I met him, I didn't like him then and I still don't. He's a union man and Dickson is a lawyer so how in hell did they get involved with each other?" I asked trying to sort out what I was hearing. Dickson in Nebraska and Marx on the east coast just didn't mesh in my mind.
"You know they both are gay Clyde so I won't beat around the bush. Dickson and Marx met in a gay bar in New York City. I don't know what you know about Marx but he was built like a brick shithouse and he had a dick like a donkey. He liked riding a guys ass and the guys in the Jersey local used to kid him a lot calling him donkey dick but they never said anything about his being gay." He paused for a second taking a long pull from his beer before continuing.
"Well Clyde, Dickson had a tight ass and a big mouth for something other then sucking dick, he shot it off a lot. He was half crocked and bragged about all of the money he controlled but couldn't use any of it and there was a great farm he would like to get his hands on but he couldn't swing it. He even told Marx about friends of his that were into young boys and if he owned the place, it could be set up as a place his friends could meet young boys and he make a few bucks on the side. His problem was none of his friends wanted to get involved by investing in the idea and that kills me Clyde. People want these things but they don't want to get dirty if they're caught." Mattie said pausing and emptying his beer.
"That's human nature. They don't mind paying as long as no one knows it. We all have something to hide." I said.
"A bunch of hypocrites from the way I look at it. Anyway, Marx was down here, he was telling me about this Dickson and the idea he had about setting up a male whorehouse on your 500-acre farm or rather your uncles farm. We talked about it and the more we talked the better it sounded. My friends are always looking for a good investment and I recommended the deal. They went for it and Marx was sent with the money to contact Dickson. Dickson set the whole deal up on paper and took the $3mil depositing it in your uncle's bank accounts in various amounts so he wouldn't cause any suspicion. He was selling your cows and mixing the money so it would seem like he was consolidating the estates assets. I heard him and Marx really had a sweet deal going, private airstrip, big house, everything. It's all down the tubes now though isn't it Clyde"
I knew most of what Mattie was saying except how Dickson and Marx had become involved but what he said didn't surprise me. I also knew who Mattie's' friends were and I really didn't want to know any more about them. Other then asking Mattie for help with Tommy Tanner in the After Midnight I staid pretty much clear. If I knew Mattie at all, I had a feeling he wanted something from me.
"Mattie, I already knew most of what you have told me. The farm was made into a high priced male whorehouse like you said, with an airstrip and hanger, swimming pools and hot tubs, private rooms and cottages and they made pornographic videos that were being sold around the country. But they didn't know they were under surveillance and the NBI confiscated all of the tapes, videos, computers and volumes of information. They stripped everything except the security system Mattie, everything and I don't think its over yet. An NBI Agent, Hardison, subpoenaed Dickson to appear before a Grand Jury and the last time I saw Marx he was supposed to be headed for Jersey. I'm sorry if your friends lost their investment but you want something Mattie, I can tell from the way your stringing me along. What is it Mattie, money? Do they want me to reimburse what they lost? I can do that."
Mattie leaned back against the back cushions and drained his beer. His shoulder sagged for a moment and he reached over and put his ham of a hand over mine and squeezed looking me straight in the eyes. He leaned closer, his head inches from mine still holding my hand and there seemed to be a look of relief in his eyes.
"Clyde, you're a good kid and no one could be happier then me that things have worked out for you. Really, I'm not kidding, I've always liked you even if you don't think so. Some of my friends are very sensitive and they don't like surprises. We didn't know you were involved in this Lincoln business until the Ricksford kid, Stewart, came on board the boat that day asking for you. Dickson didn't tell us that a search was being made for any heirs that might be living and fit the stipulations in old man Hampton's will. When they realized you were the heir that threw a monkey wrench into the works but it wasn't your fault. They took my word that it was a good deal and things would go smooth with Marx watching out for their investment. They made money and things were going pretty good from what I heard about the operation but they still feel they lost their investment and blame me for that since I vouched for Marx. That puts me in a bind Clyde but you can help me out if you were serious about kicking in with the $3mil. I won't forget the favor. . . . if you do."
It felt a little strange hearing Mattie asking me for a favor but he seemed genuinely worried and he had lost some of his cockiness. Mattie had done me a favor and the money did not really mean that much but I didn't want any kickbacks later on.
"When do you want the money Mattie? It's going to take me a day or two before I can get it too you."
"Not me Clyde. Make it a donation to the ILA Family Relief Fund. You wouldn't be the first ILA member that shared his good fortune with his fellow longshoremen and their families and it would be tax deductible."
"Is that all Mattie or is someone going to knock on my door wanting more money later on? I don't want my friends bothered Mattie and I'm not dumb. I know what your friends can do if they want and that's what worries me."
"My people just want their money Clyde. They don't care where I get it as long as they do. You get me off the hook on this one and you won't have to worry about being bothered. You have my word on it Clyde, one longshoreman to another."
"That's good enough for me Mattie." I said shaking his hand. "How about that lift? It's a long walk from here too the Marriott."
"Maybe you would like to have DD along?" Mattie said looking over my shoulder with a twinkle in his eye and I followed his look seeing DD and his escorts coming through the door. He was cute as hell and gave me a tingle in my groin but Stu was waiting for me.
"Mattie, if you know as much about me as you say you do, then you know I wouldn't take you up on that offer. You call him Denny is that a nickname for Dennis? How old is he, he doesn't look more then 16 or 17."
"I figured you wouldn't, can't say I blame you. Stewart is the type that doesn't come along very often. Dennis is 18 and he is gay. I've known Denny since he was just a kid and when I heard his old man kicked him out for being gay; I had Pete and Huey find him. He can't just walk the streets or some fucker will latch onto him and break him down. You know where that leads Clyde. Denny wouldn't last a year gay or not on the streets. I'm going to put him up at the "Y" for a few days and maybe his old man will cool off but I doubt it. You probably know his old man, Hank Darlington. He works in the tops, the heavy cranes."
Mattie was right, I knew Hank Darlington, he was a sour faced son of a bitch that liked scaring the shit out of men below him by dropping pallets close to where they were working. He got a kick out of seeing guys jump and look up at him.
"Yeah, I know him, it's a wonder someone hasn't dropped something on his head. When did he have a kid like Denny? I never heard he was married much less have kids. If he was as big an SOB at home as he was on the docks, that kid has had a hard life."
"Hanks wife died last year, cancer. He went nuts when he found Denny in bed with another guy and he damned near killed the other kid but all he did with Denny was kick him out. The ILA kept him out of jail but he's on probation for 5 years. I don't know what Denny is going to do though, the only thing he's ever done is work at a McDonalds while he was in school. I can help him out some but I've got kids at home to take care of. Something will come along, I hope."
"Maybe it will Mattie." I said glancing at where Denny was sitting alone at one of the tables. I could see he had a depressed look but from what Mattie had told me that was understandable. His clothes were a little worn but clean and even with his shoulders sagging I could see he was well developed. He reminded me a little of Nicky.
"We all set Clyde?" Mattie said.
"I guess we are unless you have something else."
"Just don't forget your old friends that's all. You can go out the back, Pete will be waiting for you."
"Thanks Mattie." I said standing up and looking over at Denny again. "Where's he staying tonight?"
"Who the kid? Pete will take him too the "Y" when he gets back from taking you too your hotel unless you've changed your mind." Mattie said chuckling under his breath.
"You have a dirty mind Mattie. Do you think he would like to go too Lincoln with us?"
"I don't see why not, there isn't much for him here but you'll have to ask him."
I had an idea about the farm and West Point building in my head but I wanted to talk with Stu and Robert first.
"Don't mention it to him Mattie, I'll come back tomorrow and let you know. Will he be here or at the "Y"?"
"Here, he's going to help with cleaning the bar for a few days and George said he might be able to fix the kid a bunk in the store room. That's the best we can do for him right now. I told Hank where the kid was and what he's going to be doing. I don't think he cared one way or the other but he won't be any trouble. We have a union meeting tomorrow afternoon but it'll be over by 4 if your going to come back."
"See you tomorrow afternoon Mattie, I think we can work something out for the kid and about the other thing, it's cool." I said shaking his hand and leaning against the panic bar out into the alley behind the bar.
Pete drove with the deftness of an experienced driver and I settled back in the seat thinking about Denny. He looked a lot like Nicky but he reminded me about a young man walking alone along a dirt road to catch a bus out of Nebraska. That orphan found a home; maybe I could help another orphan find his.
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- TBC
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