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The City of Rossford

An excellent portion as usual! I liked this Brendan centric portion. It was nice to read what he has been up to. (Though I am glad to know in advance that he is back with Kenny.) Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days. Have a great weekend! Edit: Just noticed part 2. I'll make another post for that.
 
Thanks for posting another portion tonight! I love Brendan and Kenny so it was good seeing them together again after the last bit.
 
Everytime I come back to Bren's mind, it's like a touchstone of the story for me, and Bren and Kenny''s love is one of the cornerstones of the story for me. They had to show up in full before the second chapter was over, so I felt pretty much the same way you did about it.
 
THREE



SHIT GOING IN SHIT



“GIVE HER SOMOTHIS! I bet she’s never had that before. Not a little innocent thing like you.”
“I’m not that innocent.”
“Lookadder, not that innocent. Hah!”
“Hey, I know what I’m doing. I’m not a little girl. If I was a little girl I wouldn’t be here.”
“Well, then have a sip.”
It burned her throat, but it made her feel better. Before she wasn’t sure how she felt, having her arm stroked over and over again, being squeezed by him, sitting in a circle of boys like a circle of wolves. Feeling beautiful, feeling dangerous, being away from everyone, really the place she shouldn’t be.
“That was good.”
“That’s my girl,” he said. She’d been his girl for a few weeks now. Once Meredith had said he wasn’t any good, but Meredith had a knack for getting on your nerves. She tended to think she knew everything. So, after a while, it just made sense to stop telling Meredith everything.
JD stood up and started singing, drunkenly:

Blood loss in a bathroom stall
Sounthern girl with a scarlet drawl
Wave goodbye to ma and pa 'cause
With the birds I'll share
With the birds I'll share
This lonely view
With the birds I'll share
This lonely view

“Shut the fuck up,” Morgan said. “You all are so white.”
They were all white, but Morgan didn’t know he was. That’s what Robin said.
“She burnt you! She roasted you.”
Her boyfriend clapped her on the shoulder while they laughed, and the world was a little hazy around the edges, but it was still a good place.
“Scalded, man…” one of them said, tittering.
“Man, I gotta go,” one said. But he didn’t mean he was leaving. They were in the parking lot and the moon was hidden, and inside the auditorium a game was going on. Just barely now, Robin, from where she sat with her boyfriend on the top of the car, saw a glittering and a running and heard a hissing and knew that the boy with the burning cigarette in his mouth was pissing on the blacktop while he murmured, drunkenly:

Ain’t yo mama pretty
She got meatballs on her titties
Ham and eggs
Between her legs
I took her to a party
She turned around and farted
I asked her why she did it
She turned around and shitted.

And then he farted.
“Dude, apologize,” said one who had high cheekbones and very blond, very gelled hair, who was what Meredith called—because she was from New York and thought she was so much better than everyone else—hillbilly hot. “We got a lady, here.”
“Damn, she ain’t no lady, else she wouldn’t be here.”
Her boyfriend hadn’t said anything.
“Dude, do she ever suck your dick?”
He hadn’t answered.
“I need my dick sucked,” said Wally, who was the one singing and pissing. “I can’t imagine you don’t have her sucking your dick.”
“I suck it when I feel like it,” Robin said, suddenly.
“Well, then suck it now,” Wally said.
She looked around, and they all had eager eyes. She looked at her boyfriend.
“Well?” he said.
Wally farted again, shaking out his leg, and suddenly Robin had the idea that her world was very different than she’d thought it was, that this place and these boys had suddenly become very different. Her boyfriend undid his pants and his dick came out, thick and pink and strange. She had never seen it before. Curls of blond hair came around its base, and one of the others said, “He’s got a big ole one, doesn’t he?”
“Well?” Wally said.
“Well?” her boyfriend echoed.
She felt the gravel under her knees and she took him into her mouth. He tasted funny, first like not much of anything at all, and then like urine, like he hadn’t cleaned, and she didn’t know what to do. But soon the others around them were instructing them both.
“Fuck ‘er mouth, dude.”
“Yeah, really do it to her.”
“Come on, bitch, make that tongue roll around it, swallow that dick. That’s right.”
There was some clapping and hooting and then one of them said, “That ain’t how you suck a dick. I’ll show you how to suck a dick.”
He turned her around and she made a little noise, but he said, lightly, “Now don’t yell, bitch.”
And she couldn’t yell, because next he had pulled her head fiercely, and he showed her exactly what to do. She tried to get away, but by then she knew it was too late, and his fingers were tangled in her hair. He was choking her, stretching her jaws and slamming into her throat. She had an idea of what was to come. Her mouth was filled with bitter saltiness. She coughed and then she did it again. She remembered doing it to three of them. She remembered being laid out on the grass near the parking lot. She remembered the laughter, the clapping. But it wasn’t happy laughter. It wasn’t happy clapping, and one of them was saying, “Stop it! Stop it. This ain’t right!” And she hoped it was the blond boy with the gelled hair and the blue eyes who was hillbilly hot. She knew that her boyfriend raped her. He was the first to do it. He did it with this look of fear in his eyes, like he was trying to tell her something. He did it quickly, not like Wally who never did anything by halves, who fucked her and fucked her not looking at her, but at the stars, and came deep inside of her groaning: “Awww fuck!”
Her thighs hurt after him.
She closed her eyes for the rest of it because what if it was the boy who was hillbilly hot? After all, Billy was there and he was scared and sorry the whole time he did it. Some of them were nice about it—if that made any sense—some savage as hell. Her tits were pinched, her face punched. Some must have had a couple of rounds at her. Wally hated her, she should have known that. There was blackness and pain, and then he sang as he kicked her. It was only Wally and the music and she, and he walked around singing in a lazy, drunken tone while he beat her:

Ya mom is so fat… how fat is she?
Ya mama is so big and fat that she can get busy
with twenty-two burritos,
but times are rough
I seen her in the back of Taco Bell
with handcuffs
The sad fact—what?—ya mama smokes crack
She got a burning yearning
and there's no turning back
Her knuckles drag down to the ground
when she walk
Spit comes out that bitch mouth
when she talk

(KICK)

Naked on a mountain top,
tootin on a flizoot
Ridin on a horse drinking whisky
out a bizoot
She's got the wings and teeth of an
African bat
Her middle name is Mudbone
and on top of all that:

Ya mama got a glass eye with
the fish in it!

In the end the only mercy was when someone, probably Wally, said, “Get up and carry her fat ass to the parking lot.”
It was her blond boy. As he grunted and lifted her, trying to make sure the soles of her bare feet didn’t touch the asphalt, she thought, numbly, “I should have gone on that diet. I am a little large. His back must hurt.” She thought how she had heard once that most rapes happened to women who were close to their attackers. She wasn’t really close to any of these guys at all. She thought, “I should have known better. I really should have.” She thought it was best to push away from any thoughts save the most clinical.
Above her the boy was sniffling and crying and he took off his jacket and laid her on it.
“I’m sorry,” he wailed. “I’ll get someone out here real soon.”
Robin Netteson thought, “Well, see, this proves he really is a nice boy. Most people are nice people.”
And yet here she was all beaten up and raped, yes, she had to begin to admit that this is what she was… And so apparently being nice just wasn’t good enough.


CASEY WILLIAMS PICKED UP the phone .
“What’s up, Noah?”
“You know we all have a wedding to go to.”
“Yeah, Chay was telling me all about it.”
“See,” Noah said. “I didn’t expect Chay to be working today. On a Saturday.”
“Well, he said he needs the money—”
“Casey, he doesn’t need money. He’s our kid. He’s not some waif and—”
“I know, I know,” Casey waived it off. “He needs his independence though. That’s what he wants. He wants his own change, and his own adventures.”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t you want yours when you were his age?”
“I had enough adventure, actually.”
“Is that why you went to California?”
“I didn’t go to California for adventure.”
“Well, see, Chay’s not in California. He’s right here with me, getting paid. Getting good work with me looking after him.”
“Yeah, well, just send him home in about an hour.”
“I will. I’ll even have Logan drop him off.”
Noah was quiet for a moment.
“Alright?” Casey said.
“Sure.”
“Thanks,” Casey’s voice was sour. And then he said, “You know what, Noah? I know you died and became this holier than thou parent, but I don’t see how you can run around looking down at what I do.”
“I’m not holier than thou. I just… Let me ask you something, Case? If you had a kid, would you want him to do porn?”
“God, Noah! He’s not doing porn. I just told you that. It wouldn’t even be legal. And everyone watches out for him.”
Neither one of them said anything for a moment, and then Casey said, “I know where you live. I know what’s going on with you. You just don’t want him hanging out with any undesirable elements. You don’t want him… contaminated.”
“I don’t want him to think it’s cool is all.”
“But it is cool, and it was cool for you for years.”
“What’s he gonna—” and then Noah stopped.
“It’s really no point in having this conversation.”
“No,” Casey said, tiredly. “No it’s not. I’ll ah… I’ll send him home soon, Noah.”
Noah nodded and said, “Thanks.”
He hung up the phone.
 
Poor Robin, its so sad that she had to go through all of that. Hopefully she will have an easier time in her life from now on. Its good to see Noah being such a good parent worrying about his kid. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!
 
Of course, since the first line of the story we knew what happened to Robin, but we have never KNOWN what happened to Robin until now, when she is thinking about it, and in a way, she hasn't really known it either. She is just starting to look at it. Robin is on a very painful journey which we are following, and I will say more about it as her story continues. As for Chay, he is beginning his own journey and I won't say much about it except that this Rossford story is going to be a lot harder than the first three.
 
SHIT GOING TO SHIT

PART TWO

Noah always felt bad after talking to Casey. He always felt like he was condemning Casey for something that, frankly, if he didn’t have a son he probably wouldn’t think about. It was just that Chay knew everything about him. He had to. There was no way he could keep secrets from his son when half of Rossford remembered Noah being in porn, and especially not when he had suffered abuse just like Chay. He couldn’t hide anything. But then what in the world was Chay supposed to think about love, about sex, about anything when he was surrounded by slightly abused, slightly screwed up men who got fucked and sold their bodies for a living?
To Chay, Casey was something like a godfather, and when he was old enough, he couldn’t wait to go to work for him.
At a point in time that seemed more distant than it really was, Noah Riley had thought of being a great porn star. He was known for his sweet look, for his perfect, smooth little body, his large pornstar penis. He could fuck with abandon and take as good as he gave, and had a firm, perfect ass that could be, and had been, fucked all day. Some times all night.
And he had directed too. At the time when Guy McClintock’s house had been raided, ten or so years ago, Noah had gone into making his own junior movies with then Johnny Mellow, another favorite. And then he had gone to Brazil to shoot a few movies with beautiful brown boys. He was a hard worker, a good director, respected and well liked. Everyone said that he could have been the next Casey Williams.
Casey Williams already had his own site when Noah was quitting the business. He already had MySpace then Facebook, a fan club, hats, tee shirts and a blog. Casey was no up and coming star. Casey had already risen and was only rising higher. He had been raped and beaten, which he had posted online with pictures of himself. No one was quite sure if they believed it. And he had retired, or at least become significantly less visible for a year or so. Now and again he posted blogs where he talked about a new love in his life, or a new direction. He also wrote about Noah and Johnny Mellow. All of them had found love, but not with each other. Noah was, on occasion, willing to do little tours with Casey. These involved the two of them taking their shirts off, flexing, having a few drinks with a few homos who loved them and being paid well. There were weekends at resorts, the closest and the most frequent in Saugatuck where they mixed it up with folks from Falcon, and Corbin Nash, Sam Brody and others of Guy’s Rude Boys. Occasionally some of them snuck off and had sex with each other. Now Noah did not. He didn’t even feel tempted. He just didn’t want anyone but James. Casey was not all hype. He was in a new relationship too. Keith McDonald, freshly out of the priesthood, came with him.
James would not come with Noah, or rather Noah would not have James. Very soon Noah dropped out of the life as fully as Paul had, but Casey needed to get back on his feet.
“I’m going back into the business.”
“I thought you had something going on. I thought it was serious.”
“How many people have you fucked, Noah? How many have you been fucked by? Hell, you me and Paul and my boyfriend have pulled trains on each other. Fucking is just…” Casey searched for an expression, “shit going in shit.”
“That’s lovely!”
That’s true, and you know it. A relationship is the real work. I’m going to get back in the business, but I’m going to be at the head of it from now on.”
“You were at the head of it.”
“Not really. I mean like Guy. Or like Sean Cody”
“I hate him.”
Casey shrugged. “I fucked him.”
“Anyway, I want to make movies.”
“But Guy already does that.”
“Are you stupid? Lots of people already do it. And lots of folks have niches. Look, I’ve got connections. I’m a pornstar with friends. It won’t be some fat ass director trying to get money out of you, or some skinny shit nobody wants to fuck paying dudes so he can watch them do stuff to each other and put it on the Net. It’ll be me, Casey Williams, and my friends. Making movies for ourselves, giving them—at a price—to the porn hungry world.”
“Sort of like a United Artists of pornstars.”
Casey raised an eyebrow.
“Even when you say it in such a smart ass way, yes Noah Riley. Just like United Artists.”
And so Casey opened UF. UF was in a house outside of Rossford that he shared with his boyfriend, and of course it stood for United Fuckers. It wasn’t nearly as ostentatious as Guy’s mansion in Port Ridge, and there were no loud raucous parties. When Casey said that he was all about business, he meant it. Porn was work, and when it was over it was over. It wasn’t like they made a great impact on the community. Now and again, if Noah was near there, for it was close to where his mother and Danasia had bought the diner, he might see Burt, and it was always fun when he came to visit, or Tristan or even once that Jorge, the short Mexican with the enormous dick who had fucked him the night before he had returned to Rossford years ago. All in all, it was a pretty live and let live business until about a year ago when Chay had said:
“I’m going to work for Casey.”

Will Klasko’s car swung up in front of the house and Sheridan, jacket hanging from his shoulders, jumped out of it. He looked at the large old house a couple of times. It never seemed that amazing, and then he tapped on the door.
“It’s open,” he heard a voice, and so he came in.
There was a good looking blond guy in a ball cap, not amazing, not over the top handsome, wearing black rimmed spectacles as he worked at a computer.
“I…” he began, as his tongue ran over his lip, “will be with you in… just a sec.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” Sheridan said. “I was looking for Chay.”
The youngish man frowned and said, “I told Noah I’d send him home in Logan’s car.”
“Are you Casey?”
“Yes,” he said, pushing his glasses up.
“Oh,” Sheridan stammered. “I thought… Well, you don’t look like I thought you would.”
“You thought I’d look sluttier?”
“Uh… yeah,” Sheridan laughed.
Casey shrugged, “Well, I can when I have too.”
He was wearing a long sleeved tee; he turned around and called, “Chay! You’ve been sent for.”
A moment later Chay came from down the hall.
“Sheridan?”
“You’ve been sent for,” Casey told him.
“I called your Dad,” Sheridan explained. “I was looking for you and he said just go get you and we’d go to the church together.”
“Ah, church,” Casey said. “I miss it so much.”
“Well, I’m sure you could… oh,” Sheridan began then blushed. “You were kidding.”
Casey grinned and said to Chay, “How much do I owe you?”
“You owe me this week and last week. I had to go get Ty’s cleaning when he came here, and I did the sets for that Roman epic you were trying.”
“I’m not trying, I’m succeeding and to hell with you, kid,” Casey said, reaching into his wallet and handing Chay a stack of money Sheridan politely refused to examine.
“Get into the habit of being paid in cash, and you may never pay taxes,” Casey said.
And then he said, “Ey, Sheridan?”
“Yeah?”
“For you.”
He reached into his wallet and handed Sheridan a bill.
Sheridan opened his mouth.
“Look,” Casey said, “it’s not right if two guys run around for only one of them to have cash. Now get the heck out of here.”

“He’s really…” Sheridan started as they drove back into town. “I mean… I didn’t think a pornstar would be like that.”
“My dad and Paul…?”
“Well, I guess,” Sheridan said. “But they’re like ex porn stars.”
“Casey doesn’t even swear,” Chay said as they went past the diner. “Except when he’s getting fucked.”
Sheridan splutterd.
“That’s what he told me!” Chay laughed. “He’s the best boss you could have really. And super, super protective—”
“Shit!”
“What?” Chay started as they nearly swerved off of the road.
Sheridan, eyes bugged, stuffed the bill into his pocket.
“He just gave me a hundred dollars!”

“Hey, people!” Russell shouted as he entered. Mark clapped a hand over his brother’s lips in a shushing sound and Radha just turned around and raised an exasperated eyebrow, her black hair making a slow turn with her.
“Sorry,” Russell whispered.
“How ‘bout you get dressed?” Mark suggested.
Russell shrugged and marched to the back of the apartment while Radha tried to concentrate.

Omuuuuu
Ommmmm
Rama Krishna rama Krishna ram
Om shani om shanti om

The drumbeats filled the apartment, and as Krishna Das sang, Radha read on from the little gold paperback book.

May my word be one with my thought,
and my thought
Be one with my word
O Lord of Love,
Let me know you in my being.
May I know the truth of the scriptures
and translate them into my life
Each day.

The apartment on Coll Street held the rich scent of Nag Champa, and on the wedding day of one of her best girlfriends, Radha Hatangady put down the book and sang with the CD:

Je ram ge ram
Ge ge ram!
She rama ge a ram ge ge ram!

Here was the deal: after a long time of denying everything, after a lifetime of white people seeing her dark face and expecting something exotic, she had decided that she didn’t know what they were expecting, but that it was time to figure things out for herself. And she wanted to give this whole God thing a whirl. At twenty-six going on twenty-seven, as Krishna Das filled the house she thought how she might have allowed other people and the expectations she assumed they had to cheat her out of religion. She also hadn’t know that many other Indians. The ones she did know were Christians. Radha felt that she would very much like to not be a Christian. She didn’t want to join a church, and so she’d been putting things together for herself.
Putting things together for herself meant that her nominally Catholic boyfriend, Mark Turner, was coming into the living room with a cup of coffee and a cigarette, the cigarette which he placed behind the shell of her ear and whispering: “We’ve gotta get dressed for the wedding. But I’m gonna take Russell home first.”
She nodded. Figuring things out meant that while they sang

Ge ram ge ram
Ge ge ram
Ge Ram

she sat… uh, Indian style, before a jerry rigged altar with an icon of Lord Krishna and flanking him a little crushed marble Goddess Saravati and resin sculpture of Lord Ganesh. On the other side of the room was a crucifix and a Blessed Virgin, and Radha told Mark as he got up, “Put some incense under Mary, and light a candle.”
Just then there was a hard knock at the door.
Radha rolled her eyes, and pushing herself up from before the altar she fumed: “Some people are so fucking rude,” as she opened the door.
“Hello?” she addressed the police officer who stood at the door.
“Is this the apartment of Mark Turner?”
“This is my apartment,” Radha said. “Mark is my boyfriend.”
“Well, sorry ma’am,” the cop said awkwardly. “We’re looking for one Russell Turner.”
“Wha?” she started, then turned around.
“Officer,” Mark came to the door: “Is there a problem?”
Radha turned around and said: “Russell!”
Russell, in the jeans he had just pulled on, arrived, his eyes bugged out.
“Are you Russell Turner?” the officer said.
“Uh… ” Russell said for some time before blinking to answer: “Yes.”
“We’ve gotta take you in.”
“This is ridiculous!” Mark began. “This is—”
But the officer continued, “I’m sorry, you’ve been charged with the rape of one Robin Netteson.”
 
Wow, bad news for Russell. It will be interesting to read what plays out in his story next. It was nice to read a lot of Noah. I am glad he got to be where he is now. I am liking how this story is progressing. Great writing and I look forward to more soon! Hope you have a great week!
 
I hope you have a great week as well! The Noah parts are fun. I like getting to see him be a dad, and I like seeing Casey too, as well as this new generation. Now, for the first time, the rape of Robin is personally touching members of the core group, and all on Layla's wedding day. I'm glad you're on the journey Matt, and promise that tomorrow, even more will be revealed.
 
SHIT GOING IN SHIT

PART THREE

“This was my mother’s veil,” Lula said.
“And so you know it must be ancient,” Fenn told Layla.
“Why are you here?” his grandmother asked, raising an eyebrow, but Fenn did not answer, and he did not leave.
“Hoot asked if he could the other night,” Adele said, while Anne was pinning Layla’s hair into the veil.
“And you told him he could go to—”
“Mama!” Layla looked at Anne, who shrugged.
“I told him something to that affect,” Adele said, though.
There was a tap on the sacristy door, but it was merely symbolic because Danasia came walking in with Dena. Leroy and Nell.
“Something old,” Nell said, holding out a necklace.
“Oh, my…” Adele began. “I remember that.”
“Of course you do, it was Claudia’s.” Nell said.
“It’s beautiful,” Layla began, and to her surprise her eyes stung.
“My mother wore this every day of her life.” Nell elaborated. “When someone talked about burying her with it she said that was stupid.”
“She said,” Adele remember, “this shit is too good to wear underground.”
They chuckled, but the chuckling had tears, and Dena added, “It came all the way from Scotland. My great grandmother wore it, right?”
Nell nodded while the heart locket was placed on Layla’s breast.
“And this,” Dena said, handing over a chain of watery blue stones, “was Barb’s confirmation rosary. So it’s blue and old. And yours.”
“What?”
Dena nodded. “It was going to go to Meredith, but they both wanted you to have it.”
“I can’t cry,” Layla said, straightening up. “Cause my makeup’s applied and I don’t have that good shit they sell on TV that doesn’t run.”
She fanned her wet eyes and smiled tightly. Then, taking a breath to calm herself, she said, “Something blue, something old. Borrowed?”
“I told you we should have rented the wedding gown,” Dena joked.
“Wait,” Fenn said, suddenly de-ringing his finger.
“Yes. Uh… put it on this finger. Your middle finger’s big enough.”
“It’s your…”
“Its my commitment ring,” Fenn said. “About a hundred years ago when me and Todd got married at Saint John Crysostom’s I thought it was silly and sentimental and didn’t take it very seriously. But it means a lot to me now, so just remember,” Fenn told her, “this shit is not yours to keep. It’s borrowed.”
They all laughed, more to loosen their nerves than anything else, and then Layla sighed and took a breath.
“So… Bryant and Tom have the music handled?” she said to her uncle.
“Yup.”
“Well, then… I guess we should get this party started.”
“Look at you,” Layla said, placing the little spray of flowers in Maia’s hands.
From her chair, Layla looked up at Tara. “She’s a princess.”
“That’s not from me,” Tara said, simply. “I don’t have a princess bone in my body.”
“Can I have your veil, Layla?” Maia asked her.
“Uh…”
“Tell her no,” Tara said frankly. “She thinks she’s so cute no one can refuse her.”
“I am cute,” Maia said.
“Maia Meradan,” Tara told her daughter, “go out to the sacristy and wait with the ringbearer.”
“The ringbearer’s Dylan, right?”
“Today we call him the ringbearer,” her mother said.
“Right,” Maia nodded.
As the walnut colored girl walked away she tugged on Dena’s hem.
“Dena,” she told her cousin, “you know Dylan?”
“Well, we all do, Maia.”
The little girl nodded and then stage whispered, “I’m going to marry him,” and walked off.
“Can Fenn’s son marry Todd’s daughter?” Dena wondered.
“They’re not really related,” Layla said. “It cuts down on in-laws, and it will make a hell of a story. So, more to the point, where the hell are all my bridesmaids?”
“Meaning where is Radha?” Claire said.
“Exactly?”
“You know,” Danasia mused, “I don’t think there’s a single maid among us.”
“Hey!” Meredith put her hand up indignantly.
“Excepting Meredith,” Dena threw in.
“Here she is,” Meredith pointed out.
Radha was running up the corridor, the cream colored satin dress hanging from over her shoulder.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” she told Layla. “You look beautiful by the way.”
“Thanks. But why do you look panicked?”
“Police station,” Radha said. Then, debating if she wanted to state all of her business in front of Dena, her sister, Claire, Danasia and Tara, she finally said:
“Matt’s brother was arrested. For what happened to Robin Netteson.”
Meredith put a hand over her mouth, and then she said, “Can I go for a moment?”
Beyond them, in the choir loft, was the end of Bryant’s elaborate organ fantasy, and Layla was momentarily lost. She shook her head and said, “Tara, can you tell Bryant to do one more piece before we start?”
As Tara was walking off, Layla said to Meredith, “And you go and tell Sheridan and Chay whatever you have to.”
She went to hug Radha and then she said, “Oh, God. Oh, shit.”

“Your bowtie’s crooked,” Sheridan said, turning to Chay and straightening it.
“Thanks.”
“What are you looking at?” Sheridan asked.
“You clean up well, Mr. Klasko.”
“Are you hitting on me, you big gaymo?”
“No,” Chay said. As Sheridan grinned and stood rigidly beside him with the other groom’s men, Chay added, “If I told you how cute your ass was… that would be hitting on you.”
“You’re an evil little asshole,” Sheridan told him.
“Did Casey really give you a hundred dollars?”
“Did Casey give who a hundred dollars?” Brendan said.
“Do you hear everything?” Sheridan asked the young man who was approaching with Kenny.
“Yes,” Brendan said. “And who gave you a hundred dollars?”
“You look really hot,” Chay said.
Brendan frowned at him.
“He’s flattery proof,” Kenny said.
“Especially flattery by juveniles,” Brendan added, straightening his tie. “Uh… Bryant’s finished. Kevin, are you ready?”
“I think he’s ready,” Kevin Nelson said. He was a tall man who Brendan thought resembled Hoot Lawden, also standing near them. Lee and Fenn resembled each other. They and Tom and Todd were whispering and Brendan said, “You think it’s odd that none of us really knows Kevin and we’re his groom’s men?”
“It’s as odd as Fenn giving Layla away.”
Out around the other side of the vestibule Layla came with her bridesmaids.
“Brideswomen,” Milo corrected. “You look good babe,” he came toward his wife and sqeezed her elbow.
“Not so bad yourself,” Dena murmured cupping his ass.
“Wow,” Sheridan said.
“Yeah, you remember that. The fire never dies.” Dena winked as she walked away.
“I need to talk to you,” Sheridan said to Chay.
“About?”
“About Robin?”
“Oh… Meredith just told us.”
“Not about that,” Sheridan said. “And… no matter what, poor Radha. Look at her.”
“I can’t see anything,” Chay said. “She’s got a way of not letting anyone see through her smile when she doesn’t want you to.”
“Well….” Sheridan said. “Wish I had it.”
He tugged at Chay and pulled him over.
“What?” Chay said.
“Robin wants me to sleep with her?”
“What the…?”
Sheridan put a hand over his mouth and from a few paces away, Brendan stared over at them.
“He really takes that surrogate brother thing seriously.”
“I love the hell out of Brendan,” Sheridan whispered, “but he gets on my nerves sometimes.”
“I heard he’s bossy in bed.”
Sheridan stared at him.
“Kenny got really drunk one Christmas. Anyway… back to Robin.”
“That’s it, there’s nothing else.”
“Are you going to do it?” Chay said.
“I hope not.”
Chay snorted.
“What?”
As the organ music began, and Brendan signaled to the two of them, Chay shook his head.
“That is the weirdest answer to that question I’ve ever heard.”


“Look at you,” Kevin held his hands out to his bride. “You look like a princess, you know that?”
“See, now, I thought I looked like a queen.”
He smiled at her.
“You always know how to make me laugh.”
She nudged him. “You think I was joking? By the way, there might be a little trouble at the reception.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “Your friends?”
“Radha. Yes. Friends,” Layla said. “They’re like family. Hell, they are family.”
While Kevin frowned, Adele trotted toward them, unsteady on her heels chanting: “Your veil, your veil, your veil.”
She threw it over Layla’s head. “You know it’s bad luck to be seen.”
“Well,” Layla said as Adele stuffed the veil over her face, “It’s done now, Mama.”
“Adele, what are you doing to that girl?” Hoot said.
“Trying to stop bad luck in the marriage.”
“Was that the problem with us? You saw me too much?”
“No, Hoot,” she said, “that was not the problem.”
“Alright, alright already,” Simon Davis came running out into the sacristy with Fenn. “Now it’s time.”
The doors opened and Chay and Sheridan whispered: “Lights! Cameras—”
“Somebody slap them,” Layla said.
“Action!”
 
That was a great lead up to the wedding! Lots going on and its nice to see all the characters interacting together. I am interested to see if the marriage happens so I look forward to reading the next bit. Excellent writing and I hope you are having a good night!
 
Poor Layla, even you've better against her marriage! Poor Sheridan, he seems to be in one hell of a conundrum. Aside from Layla, who is the most interesting character right now?
 
I see what you're saying. Brendan and Noah do seem to have grown the most and they're both fun to be inside of. I love Brendan and experiencing him as an adult is great for me.
 
SHIT GOING IN SHIT

PART FOUR

Saint Barbara’s was crowded. The altar and the first pews were filled with all the people in Layla Lawden’s life. All of the pews were filled with people she lived with, people she loved. Dan Malloy, practical as ever, had put up the decorations for the first Sunday of Advent, and there was a wreath already holding three purple candles and a pink one, ready to be lit for the evening mass, just another sign that life was always going on here. On one side of the large, raftered, simple old church was the grotto with the Blessed Virgin, and light winked under it.
“Those lights are for you, kid,” Barb Affren had said. “Almost all of ‘em.”
And on the other side of the church was the image of Saint Barbara with prayer book open in her hand. Mathan read from the Song of Solomon:

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth:
for thy love is better than wine.
.
Layla tried to remember what Saint Barbara had done. After all she had been baptized in the woman’s church and gone to her school. Now she was being married in her house. A martyr and a virgin. Her father had tried to kill her… Or maybe he had killed her? Her father had then gone into a tower and God struck it with lightning. There was the picture of it over the east arcade, between Saints Clare and Catherine.
Mathan continued reading:

Draw me, we will run after thee: the king
hath brought me into his chambers:
we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember
thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.
I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem,
as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon


“And so,” Dan said, reaching for both of their hands. Kevin made to pull back, but Layla loved the touch of the priest’s hand, of him linking her to her to-be-husband, the kindness that had always been in Dan Malloy, Dan Malloy whom she knew, in some distant and old incarnation had belonged to her uncle long before she was born.
“Knowing that what God has put together, no man can put asunder before joining these two I ask you,” he thundered triumphantly; “is there anyone who knows of any reason that these two should not be joined together?”
A thunderous silence. A silence, to Layla Lawden’s ears, that was more like a profound agreement with what was now happening. Her eyes danced as she smiled at Kevin.
“Well, then,” Dan clapped his hands together and prepared to make the sign of the Cross. “By the power invested in me by Holy Church and by the State of Indiana, I declare you husband and—”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Dan Malloy dropped his hands and stammered.
“By the power…” he began again, his voice uncertain as everyone turned to look down the aisle of the church.
“NO! NO! NO! Absolutely not! Do NOT do it!”
Up the aisle, unkempt, tie undone, hair a mess, stomped William Klasko.
“What the…?” Kevin started.
“Don’t do it, Layla,” Will said.
“Yay!” Dylan Mesda cried.
“I knew it,” Aidan Michaelson muttered in the first row, and beside him his sister, Annelise, nodded her head.
“I never liked him anyway,” Maia said, a little too loudly.
“You don’t love him,” Will said. “You don’t love him like you should. And you don’t love him like you loved me. Or Aidan for that matter,” he gestured to the Michaelsons. “So… don’t do it, Layla.”
She stood looking at Will, and when she said nothing, Kevin looked at her.
“Layla?” he said.
“Uh…” she opened her mouth, eyes still on Will, and then she turned to Kevin, blinking.
Kevin looked at her hard.
“I’m…” Dan Malloy began, “sort of at a sort of loss. You know?”
“I’m not,” Kevin said. He reached down, snatched the ring off of Dylan’s pillow, and stomped off the altar, down the aisle, and out of the church.
Layla stood on the altar looking down at Will, and then down the aisle to the open doors through which Kevin had departed. Now other members of the Nelson family were getting up to follow him.
“If she gets up and runs after that niggah,” Lula muttered.
But it was Fenn who got up, walked the little steps to the altar and touched his niece’s wrist.
“If you cared that much,” he said. “You wouldn’t be standing here with that stupid grin on your face.”

In the social hall, Fenn sat down beside his niece.
“I’ve been trying to call him,” she said, closing the cell phone.
“By trying to call, do you mean thinking about doing it and then shutting the phone off?”
Layla looked at him, smiled sadly, and said, “I think that’s just what I mean.
“Well…” she said, “who knew?”
Chay walked by, miserably, and slipped a wad of money into Fenn’s hand. Fenn stuck it in his pocket.
“You knew, I’ll bet,” Layla said while Barb Affren walked by and slipped another bill into Fenn’s pocket.
“It’s why I made sure Hoot paid for it. I had an inkling it wouldn’t happen,” her uncle admitted. “Or rather an inkling that it shouldn’t happen.”
“Cause he wasn’t one of us?”
“No. Because you didn’t love him like you should have.”
“And Will?”
“It’s not about Will,” Fenn said. “It’s about you not making a mistake or doing something it will take a hell of a lot of time and money to undo.”
“But Will…”
“Young lady, from the way you looked at him, you need to have a serious talk with Will.”
“I need to slap him.”
“That too.”
“Fenn…?”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember… a long time ago, at Saint John’s, when you and Todd did your ceremony?”
“Yes. You were my Maia. You were my little flower girl.”
“Yes,” Layla said, leaning against him. “Well, if Tom had done what Will did…?”
“Tom wouldn’t have done would Will did.”
“But if he did?”
“But he didn’t.”
“But…”
“Layla,” Fenn said in a voice that told her this was a road they were not going down.
“What do I go and tell all of those people?”
“My dear, you and Julian, and even Claire now, are Lawdens, which is too bad but largely incidental. You are all Houghtons, and my nephew and nieces, and that means you get up and you put a good face on it.”
He straightened her collar and touched her cheek.
“We’ve got tons of shrimp that’ll be bad by tomorrow, a lobster, and a cake as big as a house. You go in there and tell them you’re having an “I dodged the bullet party.”


“Layla,” Annelise said, Aidan beside her, “your wedding was the bomb and so is the party—”
“Thank you?” Layla said.
Aidan laughed and kissed her on the cheek.
“That boy you let go just found out too late something I knew all along.”
“But anyway,” Annelise continued, “we’re taking Radha down to the police station. You heard all about…”
“Yeah,” Layla nodded, subdued. “It makes this fiasco funny.”
Annelise nodded and said, “I’m taking as many shrimp as I can fit in my purse. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Do you think I should come down?”
“To the station?” Aidan said. “I don’t even really think we should come down.”
“That’s the difference,” Annelise said, cutting into a large piece of chocolate cake, laying it down and sandwiching it between two Styrofoam plates, “between men and women.”
“One of us minds our business and the other doesn’t?”
Layla told Aidan, “Well, today I’ll mind my business. Good… luck. Or… whatever I should say. Today’s a confusing day. I don’t know what to say or do lately.”
“May I suggest?” said Aidan, “that whatever you say and whatever you do, both happen around Will Klasko?”
As her friends left from the large door of the social hall, Dan Malloy, on his way through the small door that led into the church and the school asked, “Do you need to talk?”
“No,” she answered. “And… why do you have that look on your face? You never liked him, did you?”
Dan was wearing his spectacles that day and he pushed them up and said, “Well, I always liked Will.”


“You can’t hide in there forever,” Sheridan Klasko shouted.
He tapped on his brother’s bedroom door again, and then sat on the floor beside Chay.
Chay turned to him.
“You can’t just make a big announcement like that at a wedding,” Chay said through the door, “and then run off.”
The door opened and Sheridan jumped up.
“What?” Will said, looking down at both of them, “do either one of you know about love?”
But before they could answer, Brendan sprinted through the door and closed it behind him.
“He’s fast,” Chay commented.
“What?” Will said inside of his room, “was that?”
“That was me waiting for you to open this door so I could get in. We need to talk.”
Will looked at Brendan.
“When I had all of my love woes, you always listened to me and now—”
“And now I have to listen to you again?”
“You’re so not funny when you’re crabby. You know that?”
Will made a disgusted noise and sat on the bed.
“What have I done?”
“You’ve broken up a very expensive wedding.”
“I’ve ruined a life.”
“From the look on Layla’s face, and the quickness that Kevin guy walked away, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you may have saved more than you ruined.”
“I don’t feel like a savior.”
“No, you feel like a fool.”
Will looked at him.
“And I totally get it,” Brendan continued.
“You knew I’d do something like this.”
“I had a strong suspicion you might fuck things up. I was kind of hoping you would.”
“So… now what do I do? Do I get up and be a man, find Layla and talk this out? Or do I bunker down and wait out the storm?”
“Well, how long before you go back?”
“Oh.” Will was startled.
Brendan raised an eyebrow.
“Didn’t you know…? I’m here. I’m here to stay. I’ve been hired by IPS. I’m not going back.”
“Well…” Brendan said, a smile spreading over his face as he rubbed his hands together.
“Yeah.”
“You and Kenny. Both staying. Thank God.”
After some thought, Brendan added, “Under the circumstances I think you’ve done enough for the day. Maybe you should wait it out.”


“You all shouldn’t have come,” Mark said. “I appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have come.”
Annelise looked from Aidan to Radha.
“Babe,” Mark said, “this is between me and Russ. And… Now that they’ve asked questions I gotta ask some questions. Officer, can I go in and talk to him?”
The police officer nodded and Mark patted Radha on the shoulder, and then went through the doors.
“Whenever I saw a police station on a TV show,” Annelise began, looking around, “I always thought how much I would hate being in a real one.”
“And?” her brother looked at her.
“I really do hate it after all.”
 
I knew Layla wouldn't get married to Kevin! Such a drama filled day in this story. I wonder what is going to happen next with Layla and Will? I guess I will have to wait and see. Excellent writing as always and I look forward to more soon!
 
Well, now that this wedding is over--in most disastrous fashion, what's going to happen to poor Layla? And what about Robin? And what about Russ? And will Layla kill Will? It's a lot that went on tonight, but there's a lot to follow!
 
SHIT GOING IN SHIT

CONCLUSION


“Russ,” Mark said, tenderly, “we’re bringing you home. Alright? You can’t leave town or anything like that, but they can’t keep you. And… we’re gonna get you a good lawyer. I already talked to Mom and Dad about that. Is this cause of those guys you hang out with? I mean, do you know who did it? Did they do it?”
Russ didn’t say anything. He brooded, his lips sticking out, his face clouded over as he looked at the tabletop.
“Russ, I’m not the judge. I’m your brother. You gotta fucking tell me if you had anything to do with this. What you know.”
“Wednesday night,” he said. “It happened Wednesday night. But there was a bunch of us. She was Bill Buechner’s girlfriend. She… he’s a fucking loser anyway. Wally was there. You know what Wally’s like. Why would you bring your girlfriend around Wally? And she usually hangs out with Mathan and Meredith and all of them. Not with us. Bill had just been saying how he had this hot new sexy girlfriend so Wally and a few of the others were like, you’re lying. You’re a faggot anyway. Bring her. Prove it. Then he did. She wasn’t hot or anything, but she was kind of a dumb slut.”
“Whaddo you mean?” Mark said, waving away his objections to his brother’s choice of words.
“I mean she sucked Bill’s dick right there in front of us. Wally was like ‘suck his dick,’ and any girl with some fucking sense… well… Well first she wouldn’t have fucking been there, right? But anyway, this chick was, and what kind of slut blows her guy in front of ten other dudes. And then, well, Wally made her suck his too.”
“And?”
“It turned me on. It turned all of us on. Especially when we knew she was going to do it to all of us.”
“Did she do it to you?” Mark said.
“She did it to all of us.”
Mark’s face changed.
“What?” Russell said.
“Don’t say another word,” his brother told him.
“I want you to tell me everything, but I want you to tell me at home.”
He looked around the grey painted room.
“Not here. Not here.”


“This if fucking amazing,” Sheridan exclaimed.
“What?”
“Your friend Casey… He’s got his own website.”
“I know. I maintain it,” Chay said, getting off the bed and coming to the computer.
“What all do you do for him?”
Chay shrugged. “Everything that’s not quote-unquote, ‘nasty’. The webpage.”
“This is pretty nasty.”
“It’s hot as opposted to nasty.”
The current webpage displayed a smiling Casey Williams naked but for a Santa hat and a white teddy bear over his nether regions.
“And he’s got a blog too,” Sheridan murmured.
“I proof it. I keep the page looking nice. Run errands for the call boys.”
“Call boys?”
“He runs an escort service,” Chay explained. “Casey’s motto is you can look, and for the right price you can even touch.”
Sheridan snorted and shook his head. “Listen to this… ‘The story of how I fucked…’ uh, he must be another porn star. I don’t know who this guy is. I’m just breezing through this story right now so… From what I get the guy was a drug head and Casey really wanted to fuck him cause he was hot, and he’s talking all about how bad that crap turned out. Say, Chay? Is he the real deal?”
“Whaddo you mean?”
“Okay,” Sheridan turned around. “See, what I mean is, what people tell you is that porn is bad, so you’ve got two ideas, the porn star is this depressed, crazy person, or the porn star is having this great life you wish you could have. But… with Casey it’s a little bit of both. He’s like, he was having all sorts of mad sex with this guy, and he’s always screwing all these people right? And he talks about what a slut he is and how much he loves to fuck. But then he also talks about being lonely, or not having friends. Or like, he talks about what an asshole this one guy he was with is, and then he talks about how sorry he feels and please someone out there help him? Is he putting us on?”
Chay shrugged. “That’s pretty much how he is. I’m pretty sure Casey never puts anyone on.”
“He’s got a really ordinary face, but a great body,” Sheridan said. “Now I understand why he threw me off today, the first time I saw him.”
“I like his face,” Chay said. “Not that it matters.”
“Good, it shouldn’t. He’s old enough to be your dad.”
“No he isn’t,” Chay said. “He’s just nearly old as my dad. And James and Noah really aren’t old enough to be my parents.”
“You think Casey would talk to me about the business?”
“You gonna be a gay porn star, Sher?”
“Don’t be an ass. I just think it’s interesting. I wish I could talk to like… your Dad.”
Chay shook his head. “I don’t see that happening. Noah’s kind of a turn around and don’t look back guy. The only reason he told me was because he didn’t want someone else telling me first. He never talks about it.”
“It’s gotta be…” Sheridan thought. “I mean… all of those people. Look at this! I met this guy today. He was so… cool and ordinary and it’s like… I’ve found, count it, so far, four videos of him blowing some buff dude, six of him being blown by some big dude, a couple of him fucking folks in the ass, and the look on his face when he’s getting fucked. And that’s his job! And Mr. Riley used to do the same—”
“Please!”
“Alright, well Mr. Anderson then. It’s like… I would love to pick those guys’ brains.”
“And I,” Chay said, “would love for you to close that window and go to another web page.”


THERE WAS A CONSISTENT, repetitive thumping on the back door and Will remembered he was the only one home. He rolled off of the sofa and turned down the television, heading for the front door.
The thumping continued.
“I’m coming, Sheridan! Next time remember your key! I’m tired of having to—”
But when he opened the door it was Layla Lawden, and she was standing there in her wedding dress.
“Layla,” Will spoke her name, and it came out like a breath.
The first thing she did was say: “Will.”

The second thing she did was to slap the shit out of him.
 
That was a great conclusion to the chapter but after the end I am eagerly awaiting the next part! Layla and Will clearly have a lot to talk about. Sounds like Russell is in a lot of trouble. It will be interesting to read what happens with him. Sheridan is one interesting guy, I wonder if he will get involved in the porn industry? I guess I will have to wait and see. Excellent writing!
 
When you say these things, especially about Sheridan, I am terrible excited because there is so much in store for everyone, but especially Sheridan. There is a great deal is going to go through, and you can't even begin to imagine it. Out of all the new characters he (and Dylan, I suppose) are the only two who were in the first three. Sheridan came in for just a second and I thought, just wait till you see him again! Well, I'm glad you enjoyed and there will be more tomorrow night.
 
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