7Stars

Seek Him What Made Them Seven Stars
Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 96

“Mark my word, if and when these preachers get control of the [Republican] party, and they're sure trying to do so, it's going to be a terrible damn problem. Frankly, these people frighten me. Politics and governing demand compromise. But these Christians believe they are acting in the name of God, so they can't and won't compromise. I know, I've tried to deal with them.” ~ Barry M. Goldwater

Billy and his posse saw to their guest's comfort and made sure they were being cared for every minute of their stay with them. After viewing Josh's video, the gathered audience broke into smaller groups and went their way. The next morning held the promise of becoming an important day filled with joy and hope for the future, marking a great moment in the extended Daniels family as one of great significance. Come rain or shine, there was no doubt in anyone's mind it would prove to be a busy day, and the prospects of performing in their new concert hall filled everyone with a sense of joy and pride in their excellent accomplishment. Since there was much more room available in the new hall than there was at the Barnyard Concerts, Billy invited everyone in his extended family including the Terrance Gorgon family from their seven ranches on the Kickapoo Creek east of San Angelo.

It was to be another of the great 'homecoming' events and those working on other ranches would return to help and enjoy the day. The subject of the faithful Watchers and Daddy Long-legs who never missed a Saturday feed and Barnyard concert came up. There were concerns, the beasties of the more pungent body odors might become too powerful in an enclosed auditorium than sitting on the limestone cliffs across the river where an updraft of air, a breeze, flowed through the gorge blowing away any foul odors from the seated guests before the stage. A good, strong whiff of a ripe wild beast's body could become overpowering and distasteful. It was one of the main reasons Billy didn't want to give up the outdoor barnyard concerts completely. Nature provided the best shield for the more sensitive humans.

* * * * * * *
All was quiet in the Falcon's Lair. Nick woke up abruptly. He knew something was wrong, but the fog of sleep was hanging on; his brain was still clinging to his somnambulistic state like a trellis overgrown with honeysuckle and trumpet vines, calling him to lie back among the tangled branches to rest where small birds made their nests and cooed softly to comfort each other. He struggled to shake the shackles from the lingering unawares of his subconscious.

In the time since he gave himself to Billy to become his slave, Nick could never recall a more perfect time than what he was witnessing at the moment; except, for the undeniably strong memory in his advanced mind of the time he awoke on a gurney after his ship crash-landed in the James river, and he watched the handsome young human cowboy, who risked his life to rescue the large angel, bathe himself before the flickering firelight. At that very moment, Nick sensed his weary soul would find peace and a renewed birth of spirit he was denied thousands of years ago. He arrived at the conclusion, test tubes make lousy parents and worse companions.

Nick instantly realized Billy was the embodiment of the perfect human, whom Nick fantasized in his mind as being the ultimate choice for a bright angel to reintroduce himself to the human species. Every highly developed sensor in Nick's body seemed to relax and breathe a deep sigh of completeness. He was warm and comfortable, and without much interpersonal analysis, realized he was rescued by a good and trustworthy soul who would see to his needs. There was nothing to fear. Beyond his senses, he instinctively realized Billy was a mile-marker – a great and wonderful signature moment in his long journey.

Nick Samuel, the angel of light, of knowledge, reason, and scientific advancement, finally realized and began to understand why he was created those many centuries ago. He turned on his side to face Billy and opened his eyes to look upon the beauty of his young master's body and sighed deeply. During their time together, Billy's body grew massive and even more handsome than he was approximately six months ago.

* * * * * * *
At first, Nick thought Billy was awake, lying on his back looking up at the ceiling, but there was something wrong. The bright angel knew intuitively his master and bonded mate was in a deep, almost trance like sleep, but Billy's eyes were open, moving about like he was watching a video of an overstuffed CGI sci-fi action film, and he didn't want to miss a moment. Billy would shed a tear from time to time, but he never stopped watching whatever he was seeing through his mind's eye. Nick wondered if he should tickle Billy's mind to see if everything was all right. Their two male bodies grew so comfortable together, they often drifted in and out of each other's consciousness and sometimes shared wonderful sexually satisfying dreams – plunged so deeply into a vortex of unmentionable passion one might only experience from a long, insanely expensive phone call to 'Dial a Deviate' from a privatized prison.*

Nick tried to insinuate himself into Billy's cranial meat-movie marathon but received the most unusual mental shock of his life. Someone or some thing didn't want him in Billy's head and zapped Nick hard enough to issue a stern warning not to intrude. Strangely enough, the return message he received, was not so threatening as it was a plea for patience and understanding. When he was sure Billy wasn't under duress, Nick settled for throwing his huge arms around his young master, gently, and lovingly, planting a big buckaroo kiss on his cheek, while holding him snugly. Nick watched a sweet smile come across Billy's face and knew his cowboy was aware of his presence. Billy's demeanor changed. He took a deep breath, sighed, and relaxed knowing Nick would hold him in his strong arms and offer his protection until the last of his mental preoccupation.

The large fallen angel fell asleep and didn't wake again until he felt his young master making love to his penis like Billy did every morning they were together. Nick took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he relaxed to let the inevitable transpire. Billy honed his performance and perfected his technique as a Maestro of Fellatio. (Not to be confused with Figaro or Fidelio) Like almost everything Billy did, he excelled in the fine-art of cock-sucking. He could feel Nick's body respond to his attentions like a studied, well-tuned professional orchestra or an expertly engineered sub-sonic bullet train, in which, his young stalwart cowboy was sitting in the driver's seat.

It didn't take Billy long to feel his number-one guardian angel's crotch commandos rushing up and out to escape Nick's mature, strongly masculine, male body to make an all-out assault to do best what vagina-ninjas were designed to accomplish – perhaps with the dream of securing a beachhead with the hope of seeding a new race of angels. Unfortunately, they were unaware in their emboldened rush to perform their sacred duty, they caught the wrong train. They neither knew anything about their purpose, their infertility, nor did they understand they were rushing to their own demise, only to be consumed, enjoyed, and digested by their daddy's mate to become a part of him instead. Nick only saw it as practice for a time when Billy would find a way for his surrogate dad to procreate.

* * * * * * *
Meanwhile, in a memory-meadow, with tilting headstones, far, far away, on a dark and stormy night, Edward Bulwer-Lytton almost smiled in his grave, but he decided to wait until the words were fully ripe and turning blue like a fine gourmet cheese – Wensleydale preferred – when he could most enjoy the delicious moment in his solitary purple repose. He rested a bit easier and consoled himself. He decided it was better to be remembered for something cheesy than to be completely forgotten for never having tried. He understood creation boasted its own particularly, peculiar personal rewards. Assimilation over insemination? 'Bravo!' he thought and smiled to himself. Edward relaxed and fed on the delightfully perverse thought like it was a healthy organic fertilizer – bullshit du jour, to spite the evil spirits of the grammar Nazis.

He recalled a line on an Egyptian tomb he once translated, “Millions pass this way – their names are not!” Meaning, most will never be remembered after a couple of generations; however, he later learned, the theory of Quantum Mechanics urges one to reconsider and gives reason to make a stand against the onslaught of time and plant a flag marking their moment and place in the progress of the universe. The same set of conclusions reveal to us, in our limited four dimensional holographic experience – three spatial and one of time – there is a heavy probability, anything we create will never be lost. Whatever mankind creates, may have the potential for lasting for eons. It is therefore, theoretically possible black-holes could be vast repositories of knowledge which record the accomplishments of great civilizations – unfortunately, the bad as well as the good. Does mankind have it within his power to shift the balance? Perhaps, with a little help from some friends. Luciano De Crescenzo wrote: We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.

* * * * * * *
After the Lone Ranger gave his faithful companion one of his very best blow jobs, the men held each other, and Tonto, complemented his masked-man partner with special words of praise and stolen kisses. As they held each other Nick asked a question, “Are you gonna' tell me where you been and who you were with Kemosabe?”

“Captain Nemo,” Billy responded quietly, letting out a deep sigh, and stole another kiss from Nick.

“Are you exhausted this morning?” Nick asked.

“On the contrary, the old man of them seven-stars invested me with a shit-load of his mental and physical strength to replenish any I might have lost remaining in his presence. He was a most gracious and accommodating host. I ain't felt this good in many a moon, Tonto,” Billy replied.

“You gonna' share with your faithful companion what it was all about, Kemosabe?” Nick asked.

“Too much to reveal in a short space of time, Pa. We gotta' get up, take care of our bodies, see to our flock, and eat breakfast. One point in particular I can share with you so's you can begin to cogitate on it and give me your input later, I greatly underestimated the scope and power of the old man. His knowledge is staggering; yet, he seems so genuine and caring. He didn't just paint the picture of me and Samson in that field in England as a whim motivated by a cowboy bro-crush for me.” Billy replied.

“I done figured that,” Nick said, “I'm willing to bet it had a much greater meaning than just to flatter your person. It was to announce you and your talents to the world. Don't know if you're aware, but Aunt Helen and her team have received inquiries from hundreds of thousands of people – some of them high ranking officials from every part of the world including the Islamic countries. It seems your broadcasts of the Barnyard Concerts have been seen by most cultures around the planet. Government and religious leaders from everywhere want to meet you," Nick said.

“In due time, Kemosasbe. What would I tell them now? We ain't talked about no strategies nor political policies. I know very little about such matters. I'm learning. Captain Nemo said I was a quick study and promised to educate me through mass-immersion techniques like he did last night. Besides, we got our own lives to live, and I don't want to get caught up in some Geo-political quagmire until after we have a much stronger base, and we have a position of two strong, well-educated legs to stand on. That will come after our visit to Retikii Prime and a meeting with the complete council of worlds in alliance with the home world of my in-laws. That was one of the things Captain Nemo assured me. He also urged me to accept them big gray sexy Tom-cat Warrior-Peacekeepers.

“Knowing you and your tastes, I'll bet he didn't have to twist your arm too much to help you see the benefit of such a force,” Nick teased.

“Ya' got that right, Tonto! Damn, them big beasts be fine looking critters! I wonder if they have macaques on their penis – that might be fun – and if they have sexual needs?” Billy asked as if putting the question to himself. Nick laughed at him.

“My best guess would be they're probably like us fallen angels. They got the equipment, but shoot blanks. I like the social worker in you. It's one of your best traits, Kemosabe. I speak from personal experience. I never want you to lose that wonderful part. Every morning when you begin to work on me, I swear to myself and some unknown minor deity, it couldn't be as good as it was the previous morning, but it always is,” Nick said and grinned.

“That's only because we've become so close, we can anticipate each other's response and make it work for bow'fus,” Billy replied and smiled.

“I neither care to over-think nor dissect something so wonderful. I'm willing to let the reason remain a mystery. There are some things in life which bring us great comfort about which we should never be so crass to greatly analyze the point of standardizing rather than accepting a gift as exceptional. There in lies the mystery of the universe, Kemosabe – the very heart and mystery of love,” Nick declared. “Ringing the Star-bell only adds to the beauty and validity of the mystery,” he concluded.

“I'm afraid I don't tell you often enough to let you know how much I love you, Pa,” Billy said.

“Not to worry. You don't need to tell me when you treat me like I'm your right-hand god – with a little 'g' – and worship at the fount of my manhood daily, come rain or come shine,” Nick said and took Billy into his arms. “I couldn't love you more, Billy. I couldn't love you more if you sprang from my loins,” Nick assured him, and paused for a moment to think. “Actually, I think I prefer your rainy day blow-jobs best, because the background music always seems to be more in keeping with the symphonic sounds of the storm, clashing cymbals of lightening, and the rumble and thunder of the bass and kettle drums. This morning, Mother Nature outdid herself with her improvised score,” Nick added. The Cowboy Angel and the Fallen Angel, shared a good laugh and a passionate kiss to start their busy morning.

* * * * * * *
After they finished their usual ritual morning ablutions, Billy and Nick walked down to the commons room to find their family, Boomer, Poly, Cass, Archie, Edith, and the two magnificent Watchers Warriors, Boraz and Zarob who spent the night together in one of Master Billy's larger bedrooms. The matched pair of beasts were lavish with their compliments on their accommodations for the evening. They swore they couldn't remember such a peaceful and pleasant night's sleep as they enjoyed in Master Billy's home.

Boomer opened a large gate and everyone stepped through into the Great Gathering Hall across from the dining room on Captain Nick's ship. Everyone was beginning to gather for breakfast including their recovering guests. Josh and his children were happy and seemed radiant. So did the Harpers. Sadie Harper couldn't thank Billy enough. She felt like she was the biggest winner of the day with a completely refurbished and remodeled husband, her ruggedly handsome rodeo cowboy, Willis Harper. Sadie wore a big smile on her pretty face, and there was little doubt in anyone's mind, she took her cowboy for a good ride. Willis blushed a lot and couldn't thank Billy and his men enough.

Claude and Clifford Lovejoy, the two truckers, were feeling much better. They thanked Billy and his men, and couldn't say enough good things about the Watchers who looked after them and fed them their sweet milk. They, too, were impressed at how peacefully and comfortable they slept. When they inquired about their truck, they were more than a little surprised to find out it was in prime condition, filled with gas, and waiting for them by the barn at Josh Swift's ranch. They expressed a desire to get underway as soon as possible as they were late with their delivery. Billy promised they would take them to their truck immediately after breakfast. He told them they were welcome to stay for the Barnyard Concert, but they were more concerned about keeping their jobs. The economy was rigged so badly by the uber-conservative one-party of a corporate controlled theocratic government, men fought to maintain the most meager employment to barely keep their heads above water.

After talking with some of Master Billy's slaves and finding out how much personal allowance they received per month plus free living quarters and good food, Claude and Clifford jokingly asked where they could sign-up to become slaves on the Daniels Ranch? They shared a good laugh with each other, but Cliff raised a hairy eyebrow, looked askance at his dad, and wondered if old Claude might not be joking. Cliff could only hope his dad might be seriously considering the idea. He was secretly tired of trucking. Clifford saw his and his dad's relationship with the company they worked for as a dead-end street, and they were always one paycheck away from losing their semi-tractor and living in poverty. So far, they managed to beat the odds, but it was like living on the edge of a financial cliff. If they were not rescued from the catastrophe at Camp Air, Texas by Master Billy and his angels, they would have found themselves in deep shit.

Claude held onto an abiding faith which was never fully defined in his own mind. He never caught a firm grasp about understanding life or why we're here, but he always hoped there was more to life and a possible hereafter than just working your butt off from nine to five, or in his and Cliff's case, not getting anywhere. Their usual schedule was eight to twelve hours 'on' and six to sleep while your partner takes over so you can get a bit of rest. Claude brought Clifford on as a driver and trained him to be one of the best. He blamed himself for the accident. Claude was driving, and he knew he was taking a great chance driving at such speed in a heavy downpour.

Clifford grew up in tough times and would neither give any faith-based religion, nor any superstitious, mumbo-jumbo, nonsensical ideas the time of day. It sounded too much like a con job to him. Give me your money, you get a good-boy pat on the head, and a promise of life everlasting in the Disneyland of the dead. Claude never told his son what to believe, but hoped the way he lived his own life would set an example for Clifford. Claude was honest to a fault, didn't drink, use tobacco, nor did he swear very often. The big trucker wasn't a crazy, sex starved hound-dog, and tried his best to be congenial and considerate of others as a situation would allow. Neither was he a bully who insisted on his way all the time; however, he was a big hombre and would never back down from a fight if provoked enough by another man who wouldn't listen to reason or compromise.

Clifford knew his dad's strength and would never consider challenging him. While Cliff was just as big as his dad, and in a fair fight might have bested Claude, he thought he could neither endure the guilt for himself nor the embarrassment it might cause his old man. Cliff loved his dad too much to consider placing him in such a position. Clifford would gladly eat humble pie and swallow his own pride rather than hurt or bring shame to his dad. He never said a word to castigate his dad about his poor judgment and jeopardizing several people's lives. He was only too grateful to Master Billy and his angels.

Claude took care of Clifford from the time he was three years old. His old lady claimed Claude was just too big for her to have comfortable sex with him on a regular basis. She ran off with another man half Claude's size. Claude filed for divorce, but she never tried to take Clifford away from him. His only child never knew his own mother. Several years later, before Clifford reached the age of understanding and questioning, Claude learned his ex-wife died in a car accident. To protect his son from feelings of rejection, the big man told his son a half-truth; his mother died shortly after he was born.

Clifford became devoted to his dad. He secretly gave himself to his father in his late teens and never looked back. He decided he would be his dad's companion for as long as he wanted Clifford around or until Claude got married again. Both men understood there was a lot of male bonding within Master Billy's extended family, but it was neither blatantly overt nor distasteful to their reason. It was not discussed between them, but they drank deeply of the strong feelings of camaraderie, affection, concern, support, and cooperation such a society is capable of providing.

It reminded them of the early Spartan brotherhoods without having to worry about being brought home on your shield; although, each couple's dedication to their bond seemed to be equally as strong. Both men found it somewhat appealing and comforting. Clifford found the bonding of a number of older men with younger men as their slaves particularly exciting. He refused to allow himself to dwell on the matter, but after observing several of the younger men wearing their slave harnesses, poor Clifford made excuses to visit the nearest restroom more often than usual.

* * * * * * *
Talk around the huge table was lively, but most of it was questions back and forth about the schedule for their weekly Barnyard Concert. It was still pouring rain outside and they had to take into consideration how they were going to cook and smoke brisket and where to set up their tables for people to walk by with their trays. Hank and Buck suggested they use the old barn. It was the biggest of the three barns on the property. It was also big enough to have people eat and then move to the new auditorium to await the concert.

Most of the Houston Philharmonic were already there having breakfast with them. They arrived the night before to enjoy the unusual experience of staying in a real castle. Only a handful would be arriving later in the morning. Billy foresaw them needing more rooms and since the new hotel was neither complete nor fully functional, he put two crews on opening another complete wing of the castle and bringing it up to modern standards. There was plenty of rooms in the suites for musicians and out of town guests. They also had the extra added advantage of practicing and warming up in their rooms before gating to the new auditorium.

The Byrd family and a couple of their guests almost took up one complete suite of rooms themselves. The Byrd men were traveling around the country during the week playing Maestro Billy Daniel's Concerto for Two Bass Horns (baritones) and Orchestra. As soloist in demand, they were making damn good money, and their families were living more comfortably. Billy hadn't planned to play his composition at either concert, but he told Clara Mae to be sure and take the score and parts just in case. Clara assured the Maestro she brought along two small trunks of every piece they played so far and a few she made note of when she overheard Billy discussing a piece as something to play in the future.

As they were finishing breakfast, Claude Lovejoy got Billy's attention, “You folks are actually going to another world in another galaxy?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. We've traveled back and forth several times. My immediate family spent a month there while me and my posse stayed behind to take care of business here. This will be the first time we take the orchestra with us. We've only played music for them from the instruments a few of us took along. They have requested a full concert, and we are indebted to them. I hope we can please them,” Billy replied.

“Me and my boy have seen such miraculous and unbelievable things, it has overwhelmed us, but I think my son will agree with me, we done seen us a couple of eye-opening, conscious-raising encounters – we might understand better than most,” Claude said, and continued, “Them giant beasts you call Watchers – what we know as Bigfoot or Sasquatch – we done seen us a family of 'em,” Claude said, and continued.

“About a year after I took-on my boy as my driving partner, me and Clifford were driving a road through the dense forest in Northern Oregon through the Blue Mountain Range to make a delivery in Strawberry, Oregon. It was early fall, and it was beginning to get cold. We left Drake, Oregon, and were headed North when we decided to take another road much less traveled – a short cut – when we come upon a beautiful lake. As we drove on, we saw what looked like two enormous bears and a cub standing by the water on their hind legs – running back and forth like they was having a fit over something. The closer we got the more surprised we become. Cliff's eyes are better'n mine, and he said he didn't think they were bears a'tall. He told me he thought they was a Sasquatch family. I laughed at him as he slammed on the air-breaks and pulled the truck over to a rest stop. I had no idea what he was going to do.

“Without so much as word to me, Cliff set the hand-break, cut the engine, and before I could say diddly-squat to him, my boy was out of our truck and running down the hill to the water, shedding his clothes like his ass was on fire, and he was dead-set to get to the water to put out the flame. Them three Sasquatches looked up and saw a naked human running pell-mell toward them, and for a moment, they looked more surprised than fearful of my boy. I was running right behind him and watched him shuck one of his boots high into the air – the other boot he just ran out of, and it fell behind some rocks.

“Clifford made one giant leap toward the lake like an Olympic diver and didn't even cause a ripple on the surface. Damnedest thing I ever done seen! The huge Sasquatch male looked at me, I looked back at him, shrugged my shoulders, opened my hands, and rolled my eyes like I didn't have a clue. They seemed to understand and returned their anxious gaze to the water. We watched Cliff swim out into the lake about twenty yards, raised himself up out of the water, took a deep breath, and disappeared beneath the dark water. He was gone for what seemed like a long time. Just about the time I was thinking about going after him, he surfaced, and I could see Clifford had a young Sasquatch under his right arm. He began to swim back to us on the shore.

"I forgot any fears I might have had of them critters – my boy was more important – I walked down into the water, and took the young'un from my son. Cliff laid it out in my arms, and I could tell it wasn't breathing. I thought it was probably dead. I carried the young Sasquatch to shore and noticed it was a little female. I gently laid her on the small beach. Her parents could tell she wasn't breathing and assumed the worst. They were in agony and let out some of the worst screams you ever heard come from an animal.

"Clifford took over tending the small female Sasquatch, turned her on her stomach and gave her a couple of good, hard whacks on her back. Then he turned her over, forced her mouth open, and asked me for my small mag-lamp I always carry in my jacket pocket for emergencies. He looked down her throat, and with his other hand pulled out what looked like some aquatic plants. He turned her over again and whacked on her back again and some water an more stuff came out her mouth. When Cliff was satisfied her throat was cleared, he rolled her on her back, tilted her head, put his mouth to her's, and began to gently fill her lungs with his breath. After a couple of times, he pulled back, and pushed gently on her chest three times.

“He repeated the ritual several times, but she didn't respond. He tried once more, but this time he yelled at her and pounded on her chest really hard. All of a sudden, her heart started beating again, she took in a great gasp of air, and threw up the last of the water in her lungs. She started crying, looked into Cliff's deep blue eyes like she just done seen an angel, threw her little arms around him, and held him tight to thank him for saving her life. She was still crying as Clifford gently handed the little one to her daddy, and gently kissed her on her fury cheek. I don't think I was ever so proud of my boy as I was at that moment.”

“Dad?” he said to me, “While I gather my clothes, walk back to the truck and grab our emergency supply rations. Maybe it will help these good folks get over the trauma they just went through.”

“I done what he told me, and by the time I returned, Cliff was dressed, sitting on a big rock, holding the little female Sasquatch again, tickling, and playing with her. She was laughing and seemed fully recovered. He reached in our bag of food and brought out a fresh pack of hot dogs and opened them. Cliff took one out, took a bite, and made 'yummy' sounds like it tasted wonderful. He held it for the baby of the family. She took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and smiled. Cliff handed the package to her mother and motioned for her to distribute them to her family. He sat the little female down, handed the giant male our emergence rations, took his other huge hand with his and shook it once, turned, grabbed my arm, and we began to walk away.

“When we reached the top of the hill, we turned to wave. They were still there watching us and waved back. I think I will always remember that fall afternoon as one of the best days of my life. Any fears I might have had for my boy were gone. I felt like my boy just graduated from the greater Institute of Life with honors, and my heart beat more easy. I felt certain Clifford could make it on his own with or without me. I ain't never worried about him since,” Claude said firmly.

“Hosanna!” shouted Randy.

“Hosanna, in the highest!” the rest of the family echoed. Billy stood and applauded for Claude's story, and the rest of the Daniels family followed suit. Clifford blushed a deep red color and nodded his thanks to everyone while big daddy Lovejoy beamed with pride. “You never told me you felt that way, Dad,” Clifford said.

“I didn't want you to become too cock-sure of yourself. There ain't room enough in our small pasture for another bull, Son,” Claude said.

“Hear! Hear! I heard that!” bellowed Elmer Breedlove and everyone laughed.

Claude laughed and continued, “I would have told you eventually, but after our near death experience yesterday, it made me stop and think about a lot of things. I knew I had to take the chance. I wanted you to know just how much you mean to me and how much I come to respect you,” Claude said sincerely. Another cheer went up for Claude.

“May we come back when we have a little more time to enjoy you and your family's company, Master Billy,” Clifford asked.

“Of course you can! You don't even have to call – think on us as family – just come on home where you were reborn, and there will always be a place at our table for you men,” Billy said firmly, “But if you men ever get into trouble and can't see a way out, call us. We'll come to your rescue and be by your side as quick as we can. Just remember to leave your cell phone on so's we can triangulate the coordinates of yore' whereabouts. We'll open a gate and come get to you. We'll be happy to lend a helping hand,” Billy said.

“Thanks, Master Billy, that's a comfort to know,” Claude said and smiled as he handed his boy his cowboy bandanna to wipe the tears from his eyes. Clifford was deeply moved by his dad and Master Billy's words. He never experienced the comfort of a larger family. It was always just him and his dad. Cliff could only imagine the benefits of having a greater family, but the young man was beginning to see the possibility of a new and brighter future for him and his dad.

* * * * * * *
Shortly after breakfast, Billy gathered a small posse to accompany Claude and Clifford Lovejoy back to Joshua's ranch at Camp Air. Billy was surprised at the number of men who wanted to go with him, Nick, Boomer, Sheriff Tate, his dad Buster, and Sheriff's new deputy, his little brother Everett Tate, to the Swift ranch. General Royce Boynton wanted to go and where General Heavy-drop went, his right-arm man, Lieutenant General Dan Tate, known as 'Tater-puss,' also went. Of course the General's newly refurbished son, Roy, wanted to go with his dad. Several others wanted to go along, but Billy wanted to keep it to a minimum to get in and out as quickly as possible; however, he did allow Willis Harper to go along to help Josh water and feed his goats.

Billy also allowed Colonel Halfablap, his attache' Captain Bart Langstrom and the other four top military brass; Vice Admiral Randy Sparks; Admiral Art Armitage; Major General Arnie Bacon; Major General Winston Gamble; and, Brigadier General Lewis Freeman. Something told Billy to be sure and include them plus the other four men from the NSA among their ranks; Bryan Isobel; Bill Devers; Jim Hawkins; and Scott Stevens. He decided to take every military man present with them; Chopper Pilots, Major Dan Radner and Lieutenant Dudley Bean; Regular Military Marine Corps Captain Delbert Miller; and Commander Winston Pauli. Billy figured correctly it was enough top Military Brass to make the average man go weak in the knees.

It was still raining hard outside and Billy didn't want to spend more time than necessary to take care of the animals and get the Lovejoys to their truck and on their way. Since most of their clothes were destroyed in the fire, Billy asked Hank and Buck to make the Lovejoys up a couple of duffel bags of western clothes and another pair of boots for each man to see them through until they could buy more for themselves. The men were once again reduced to tears at the generosity and concern Billy expressed for them. They were even more impressed by how perfectly their old truck-tractor was restored. It looked like it just rolled off the showroom floor with eighteen new tires. Even the trailer filled with gas didn't have a blemish on it. It shined like a new penny.

After much manly handshakes, hugs with strong slaps on the back, and a couple of stolen kisses, the Lovejoys drove their truck out of Joshua Swift's ranch and headed South for their next delivery of gas in Fredericksburg, Kerrville, and finally to San Antonio. The men stood for a good while and watched them drive off down the road until they disappeared around the bend. Billy felt empty like two of his brothers were leaving, and he secretly didn't want them to go. Nick knew him too well. “Not to fret, Kemosabe, I got me a feeling we ain't seen the last of them hombres,” he said quietly.

“Sooner than you might imagine, Young Master,” Royce Boynton agreed.

“I hope so,” Billy said and smiled weakly, “Them men are on the verge of a supernova in their lives when they discover their need to come together as one. No pun intended. We ain't got us a Star-bell what's big enough,” he added and grinned. The men laughed at him.

“We seen it coming, Master Billy, and may their love create many new stars in the heavens,” Boomer confirmed and assured his master.

Everyone pitched in to provide Josh's goats with a couple of days food in the barn and made sure the water troughs were filled. Water didn't seem to be a problem. The whole property was covered in shallow lakes. Billy noticed Willis Harper and Joshua Swift worked shoulder to shoulder to get the job done. He began to wonder if Sadie shared with her husband their closer bond with Josh than either guessed. Nick and Boomer transported Josh to his main house to pickup a few personal items for him and his kids while Billy and his men finished up in the barn. Billy was working by Willis Harper. “Did your wife share with you what we discovered yesterday about you and Joshua's DNA, Mr. Harper?” he asked.

“That Josh is my younger half-brother?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, but he's a bit more than half after we got through with him. I shared some of your good looks and stronger Harper DNA with him. I'd say he's probably got more Harper DNA in him than Swift – including your outdoor plumbing – certainly enough to qualify him as your full-blood brother,” Billy said and grinned.

“Sadie told me she damn-near had a heart attack when she saw Josh get up from the table. I was more'n a little impressed myself. At the time, I didn't know for sure what-all you done for me. I had to admit we looked a lot alike. Then when Sadie told me what you found out about us, it became clear. I ain't never received me no better news than what Sadie told me, Master Billy. We've always loved Josh like he was our own and been protective of him and his kids. It was almost like we were supernaturally drawn to each other. Hell he'd do anything for me or Sadie. It will only bind us closer as a family. I get the feeling he don't know yet, but I didn't let on I knew anything. Sadie and me, we done figured it would be best for you to tell him. He might not believe us,” Willis Harper said and grinned.

“I promise, I will tell him before our noon meal today, Mr. Harper. Have you and Mrs. Harper decided if you want to go with us on our trip to Retikki Prime for our meeting with the leaders of the other galaxies and our blow-out music concert in the town square in the heart of the largest city on their planet? If not, you still can't return to your ranch until your wings grow in, but we'll leave enough qualified staff to see to your fledging. Hell, we won't be gone more'n an hour at most,” Billy said.

“We ain't never been the kind of folks to travel much, but I always felt bad I held back the experience from Sadie. My wife loves to go and visit with new folks. Sadie was the brains of our outfit, and she had the emotional strength to see our lives were successful. Sadie ain't said nothing about it. I know in my heart she wants to go in the worst way, but she would never push me to do nothing I didn't wanna' do. It's time I stopped thinking about myself, my druthers, and kidding myself I'm the man in charge. I ain't. I'm just the engine hauling the train. For the last several years, I ain't even been able to do that. Sadie wears the engineer's cap and guides us down them tracks – and, boy-howdy, can that woman blow my whistle?!” Willis said and fell out laughing. Billy joined him.

“Was it that good, Mr. Harper?” Billy asked and grinned.

“The very best we ever done had, Son – the very best. It feels really good to have the steam in your tank to haul a big load up a steep grade. C'ain't thank you enough. My sweet Sadie even let me ride in the cab wiff' her for a spell,” Willis declared, and the two men shared another laugh. “We'll be happy to go with you and your family, Master Billy. We owe you that appreciation,” Mr. Harper said.

“You and Mrs. Harper don't owe me nothing, sir – but I would certainly appreciate your love and friendship,” Billy said.

“Shit! You got that in spades, Son,” Willis Harper replied quietly.

* * * * * * *
After viewing Joshua's video the night before, Billy gave him his blessing to post it on his personal web site which Josh named “Camp Air Paranormal Research” and for his pseudonym he used the name “Joshua Jericho” or simply “J. J.” Billy provided him a computer terminal with access to the Internet and Josh uploaded the complete video Billy approved that same evening. Josh didn't think anymore about it. He was so busy with Billy's family he didn't bother checking his site for hit-numbers. After he gathered his few things he and his kids wanted, he sat down at his computer and went on-line. He couldn't believe the number of hits on his site. There were over two hundred thousand hits and his e-mails were so many he couldn't download them all. He checked his new membership files and his total funds so far were over thirty-five thousand dollars. He was flabbergasted and overwhelmed. Life was finally going his way for a change. Josh no sooner shut down his computer when he got a tickle on the back of his neck. << I'm here, Master Billy, >> he sent.

<< Tell Boomer I want him to gate back to the ranch from your living room, and you walk back to the barn alone. We got us some visitors of the 'wholly-gubbermental' variety, and we don't want to explain any more than necessary to them crazy sum'bitches. It's obviously a response to your video post, but don't let it get to you, Son. Remember, I'm the one what gave you permission. We'll get through this together. Just don't give 'em anything major without tickling me first. Tell 'em the truth, you done the video, and it says it all. It speaks for itself. It can't be a hoax because you're a simple goat rancher and don't have no sophisticated video equipment. Don't be afraid to play the dumb, naïve, clueless cowboy-card, Son. We'll take care of the rest, >> Billy sent.

<< I got chore' back, Master Billy, but I won't have to do much acting on my part. Until I met you men, it pretty well summed up my life to that point. I promise, they won't get much from me, Pod'na, >> Josh returned in his best cowboy lingo.

Boomer overheard Billy's message to Josh, said his goodbyes, opened a gate, and returned to the ranch. He figured Billy had enough protection with Nick, the Sheriff, a deputy of the county, and the military men with him. Josh turned off the lights except his night light in the living area he always left on. He locked the door, walked out into the pouring rain in his cowboy slicker, and pulled his hat down tight which was protected with a plastic cover. He was carrying a large black plastic trash bag to protect the personal items he wanted to take back to the Daniels Ranch with him. As he started to walk through the mud and water, he saw six black Lincoln SUVs parked just outside his fence row and a dozen cookie-cutter NSA men standing just inside his barn talking with Master Billy and the other men. Each one looked like a rubber-stamped copy of the other and were about the same size except one who was smaller than the rest. The largest one, the man in charge reminded Josh of the movie-star Jason Stathem. They turned to look at Josh as he pulled his hat down in front to keep the rain off of his face. “Is he Joshua Swift, the owner of this place?” the one who seemed in charge asked the other men.

“Yes, sir, he's Mr. Joshua Swift,” Billy replied.

“How did you men get here? Did you need this many to feed a herd of goats?” the man in charge asked.

“There's a newly refurbished school bus on the other side of the barn we borrow from Josh from time to time to use on our ranch. We parked it there under the overhang to protect it from the weather. All we had to do was walk through that door over there, and we didn't get rained on,” Billy explained, “To answer your other question – no, I guess we didn't really need this many men, but we didn't know what we were going to find over here. After we watched Joshua's video we figured there would be strength in numbers if we encountered anything out of the ordinary. These men expressed an interest in coming with us to get out of the house and away from our women folk for a while,” Billy added.

“Check out the bus, Frank!” the leader barked at one of his men.

Josh didn't know what to think, but he kept his mouth shut. He looked at Billy and saw a wicked grin cross his face. He remembered showing Billy the old school bus he bought for a hundred dollars he wanted to fix up for him and the kids to go camping. He parked it under the overhang on the far side of the barn to protect it from the elements several years before, but it was never moved again. “He's telling the truth, sir. There's a brand new school bus parked out there. It looks like an older model, but it's in mint condition like it just rolled off the assembly line. The engine is still warm, and the keys are in the ignition,” Frank confirmed Billy's statement. A few of Billy's posse smiled at each other and breathed a mite easier; however, the confrontation was not over.

“All right! I want to know who you men are and why you're here?” he barked like he was about to dress-down a company of new military recruits.

“How about you identifying yourself, Mister, if you want us to cooperate with you. We don't know who the Hell you are, neither. We been through some shaky times lately – some strange going-ons around this here little community. Us country folks don't respond well to pushy hyper-authoritarian types what come in here barking orders without explaining their reasons. I'm willing to bet my allowance my old lady gives me out of her egg money, you ain't never lived in a small town and got to know the people,” Willis Harper spoke up. Everyone laughed at Willis comment including most of the NSA men.

“I don't have to tell you nothing, Old Man! Now just shut-the-fuck-up and answer my gotdamn question! Who are you men and what the Hell are you doing here?” the leader, Vic Bodega, barked even louder. He never liked cowboys and thought every one of them was little more than a walking-talking piece of cow dung who took great delight in strutting, stomping, and parading around in their western clothes like pretentious, overstuffed peacocks in mating season, and for the most part, were dumber than hard-sauce on a fruitcake.

“Josh is my younger brother and these other men here are currently living in our community. We come to help him take care of his goats; then, we's traveling on down to Mason to the Daniels Ranch to eat dinner and listen to some fine music,” Mr. Harper said. Billy watched Josh blush with pride from Willis calling Josh his younger brother. Billy thought it was damn-near a stroke of genius on Mr. Harper's part – the perfect segue into a greater, more comprehensive explanation. Billy smiled to himself, Willis Harper just made his job a lot easier.

Will Tate pushed himself through the crowd and stood before the leader, “Listen, Shit-head, I don't give a big rat's ass who the fuck you are or who you pretend to be. Like Mr. Harper politely and respectively explained, you won't get diddly-squat out of these men with your attitude. We done had green lizard aliens come and try to infiltrate our family by making themselves look like humans, but they failed miserably. I'm Sheriff of this here county, and I demand you tell us who you are, what the Hell you're doing here, what your purpose is, and show me and these men some identification! Otherwise, pack up your attitude, shove it up you butt, and two-step on down the road, or I guaran-damn-tee-ya you'll find yourself up shit creek without a paddle. I'm warning you, Brother, you don't wanna' fuck with me or these men We've about had it up to here,” Will said motioning to his own throat like he and his posse were ready to take on the gang at the O.K. Corral.

The leader's face went from dark-red to a pale white in an instant. The cowboys could see he was losing control of the situation and Will's comment was a direct hit on his pseudo-masculine authority. “I'm Vic Bodega and we're from the NSA,” he said quickly and whipped out a card and handed it to Will. Most of the men knew the false-card story Billy and Bryan told and laughed.

“What office are you from?” Bryan Isobel asked sternly.

“Houston,” Bodega replied, and several of the men laughed.

“You're lying!” shouted Bill Devers, “Six of us men here are from NSA out of the Houston office! We been working undercover in this community for over a month. Now you done went and forced our hand and compromised our position of trust with these folks. Well done, Bodega – if that really is your name! Anybody can have fake business cards printed. We'll need to see your credentials, Gentlemen, or we'll have the Sheriff and his Deputy arrest you as government impersonators!” Devers added firmly.

There was a deathly silence and Vic Bodega could feel his house of cards begin to shake violently like a six-point-eight earthquake just moved the ground under his big feet. He whipped out his revolver and nodded for his men to do the same. Billy held the open palm of his hand up toward the men in a demanding gesture to stop what they were doing. Suddenly, the twelve men's guns grew so hot they couldn't hold them anymore without severely burning their hands. They immediately threw them down on the ground cursing and yelling to each other. “Son of a bitch!” Vic Bodega yelled in pain and his comrades spit-out similar expletives. Billy went to Bodega, grabbed his forearm and waved his hand over the big man's hand, and instantly, his pain was gone. He did the same for the rest, and they were stunned.

Royce Boynton spoke up with a commanding voice, “Sheriff Tate, will you and your men kindly gather their guns, remove the ammo, and put them in one of them empty feed sacks for us? Oh, yes, and while you're at it, frisk each one and confiscate their cell phones. Unlike them cute ETs, we don't want them calling home. How many of you men got families at home?” the General asked. Not one hand went up. “Figures, the less family you got the less they have to explain when your masters see a need to take you out of the picture. Didn't any of you men ever question why none of you have families? What are the odds? Did they feed you the old Elite Corp routine with no present connections and few in the past? How stupid can you be? Sheriff, you got every right to exercise venue since these men claimed to be federal representatives in your county, but until we can get to the bottom of this mess, I hope you won't mind if I usurp your authority in this matter, Son. It ain't been done in many a moon, but with your permission, Son, I'm calling Martial Law on this incident,” the General said politely.

“I don't mind a' tall, General. You certainly have my permission, sir. It just might save these lying bastards lives. My trigger finger gits mighty itchy when I'm around liars and phony government impostors,” Will said and got a couple of laughs from the men.

“And who are you to claim such authority?” Vic Bodega challenged the General.

“The current head of the joint Chiefs of Staff of the Armed Forces of the United States of America, General Royce Boynton, United States Marine Corps, at your service, Butt-head, and these other men are my staff. Do you men concur with my action on this matter?” he asked his staff.

“Aye, General, we concur!” they replied in unison.

“Well, Son, it looks like you men are looking down the barrel of a much larger gun. I just hope yore' tiny pricks don't shrivel up from fright and drop off. It probably will anyway from lack of use when you're behind bars for a decade or more. Reminds me of the words of an old Bob Dylan song, 'Tell me, how does it feel to be on your own with no direction home?” General Heavy-drop said and laughed. The rest of the men laughed with him.

Bodega was still perched on his imaginary pedestal. “What did you men do with the aliens and their space craft?” he demanded.

“Why, another government agency was here within the hour and took them critters and the saucer away with them. Didn't you men get the memo? We did. They must have thought you men weren't important enough and left you out of the loop. You mean to tell us that's why they sent you, was to find out the whereabouts of them aliens and their ship?” the General asked in a mocking manner. He didn't wait for an answer, “If so, then we don't need no papers from you men. H'it don't take no frick'n genius to know you're not from the real NSA. That means we will have to start our interrogation from there, and I assure you men, we will find out who sent you and why,” General Boynton said firmly.

“What are we gonna' do with 'em, General?” Billy asked.

“Take 'em with us. We got room in the castle dungeon. All them cells ain't filled yet,” the General replied, “They'll make good companions for them ugly poppin'-fresh dough-boy woolly-boogers we got camping in the other big cell,” Royce Boynton added and got a couple of laughs from the men.

“Why not! It makes sense to me, General Heavy-drop. To be honest, I wouldn't feel secure with them men in the county jail in Mason – no disrespect intended, Sheriff Tate,” Billy said, tossing the bull-shit medicine-ball to Will Tate.

“None taken, Little Brother. You men are right. I cain't gainsay that! Who knows? More impostors might come along with legal looking papers for their release, and we wouldn't have no option but to let 'em go; however, I'm with you, Master Billy, I'd be a dang-sight more comfortable knowing they'll be in the cold, dark, and dank, vermin ridden dungeon cells under the castle, with no chance of them being found until we can determine who they're working for and why,” said the Sheriff using prime cowboy hyperbole to pour-on the heavy scary-sauce. The cowboys grinned at his theatrics. “Why, we done killed us some rats in that dungeon what were the size of a small dog,” he added seriously. Several men coughed in their fist to keep from laughing.

“One thing you should do is scan them for microchips, Master Billy,” Bryan Escobal said, “We ain't positive, but we done heard us some rumors – certain members of an elite group of NSA reps got chips implanted in them to track their whereabouts at any given moment. As long as they're here, at their intended target, nothing will happen, but if they move without contacting their central – whoever or wherever they may be – they will be able to track where we take them. We also heard another nasty rumor about them implants what's almost too dang frightening and disgusting to talk about in good company. We'll tell you in private,” Bryan finished and led Billy away from the group to further explain. He motioned for Bill Devers and his other two men with the Colonel and Captain Bart to follow them.

Billy, Bryan, and Bill Devers called Josh over to join their conversation. After a few minutes, Josh left and returned with an old, lame female goat who could barely walk. The poor thing looked like she was on her last leg and wouldn't last much longer. Josh said she didn't have any teeth left and couldn't eat enough to keep her going. Josh shed a tear when he admitted he just didn't have the heart to put her down. Jezebel, as he called her, was one of his first goats and produced many kids for him and his family. She didn't seem to be frightened nor did she seem to care very much about what was going on. She lay in the hay and slowly gummed some fresh oats Josh gave her.

Billy waved his hand over Vic Bodega's body and detected a chip implanted deep in the shoulder muscles of his back. The cowboys got together and stacked bales of hay high enough for Master Billy and his posse to do their work. Josh grabbed a half dozen clean horse blankets and laid them on top of the hay to create a makeshift operating table. Billy slapped the hay table and motioned for Bodega to lie down. “Since you're leader of the group, I'll remove your chip first. I promise you'll feel less pain than when they inserted it, Brother. Don't get any bright ideas you men can take us. My brothers play for keeps, and I assure you they won't put up with any nonsense. One way or another, that infernal chip is coming out of your body. If you put your trust in me, all will be fine. If not, we'll get it out the hard way,” Billy warned sternly.

Billy put Bodega into a twilight sleep and told him he would neither feel anything nor have any residual pain after they removed his chip. Billy made an incision like he would burn the nubs on his Cowboy-Angels to free their wings, and meticulously removed the chip with a sterilized pair of needle-nosed pliers. Nick came behind him to heal the cut, and it was done in an instant. The cowboys made sure Bodega's men stood close and watched the operation. They were astounded by what they saw, but strangely enough, not one put up a struggle or tried to argue their way out of having their chip removed.

When they finished, twelve of the chips lay in an old aluminum pan. Billy nodded to Josh, he picked-up the old female goat, and laid her on the makeshift table. “Now, Gentlemen, we're going to show you what your masters who inserted these chips didn't tell you about,” Billy announced. He placed his hand on the old goat, and she looked like she was in heaven. She was groggy but very relaxed. Billy made a small incision on her hip, placed the chip what came from Bodega's body within the cut, and immediately caused it to heal.

He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a code and a few numbers. The chip in the goat started to vibrate and so did the aluminum pan with the other chips. Soon the old female goat dropped dead and fell on her side. The chips in the pan buzzed and squirted like they were ejaculating a small amount of gizz; only, it was a highly toxic poison. “If your masters found out you been compromised, that's what they planned for you men. You would each be dead within an instant. They operate like them pirates of old what killed the men who buried their treasure because dead men don't tell no tales,” Billy said. There was a great silence came over everyone.

“Shit!” said one of the fake NSA men in disgust.

“Shit, indeed! That's what whoever you're working for thinks about you. You're nothing more than a piece of human excrement for them to manipulate and use as they see fit. You're only important and good for them as long as you achieve the goals they set for you,” confirmed General Royce Boynton, “Do you plan to remain loyal to criminals like them who would literally stab you in the back with no remorse to cover their own butts? At least the old goat was on her last leg, and she went out peacefully without suffering. You men are young. Ain't a one of you what's over thirty. Are you really so stupid to give up your lives to cover for them people's crimes who recruited you – just because you been compromised?

“Whether you men will admit it or not, we saved your lives; howsomever, it ain't our job to convince you. If you do reconsider and decide to cooperate with us, I promise you will never have to fear reprisal from them people who hired you,” the General assured them, “We have the power to change your looks down to your DNA and no one will recognize you as your former self. You can pick and choose how and who you want to look like for the rest of your life. Ain't no need for relocation. We'll even prove it to you,” the General added.

“What are we going to do with their vehicles?” Josh asked, “They might have a chip or some kind of transponder embedded in them, too,” he added.

“Good thinking, Brother! You're more'n likely right, Cowboy. We got the ability to negate any tracking device. Josh, with your permission, we'll park them out behind your barn, make them disappear, and later we can change the serial numbers on them or put newer, more advanced engines in them. Since they'll be on your property, possession is nine-tenths of the law. You can sell them, keep one for yourself, you might give the Harpers one, or give them to people you trust who might be in need of transportation. They's easily worth thirty-thousand each – times six – a hun'nert and eighty thousand ain't too damn shabby for a rainy afternoon project,” Billy said and got a knee-slapping laugh from Josh like there was nothing better than sharing a wicked secret with his brother.

The men got busy and Billy's recommendation was exactly what they did. They deloused the SUVs of their tracking devices, parked them behind the huge barn in a row next to the fence on Joshua's property line, and made them disappear. Billy assured Josh they would neither age nor rust in the nether zone where they were parked. They didn't allow the fake NSA men to watch. The less they knew for the moment, the better, or until the family got to know them and decided whether they could be trusted.

Billy thought it was better to err on the side of caution than to be sorry later. The others agreed with him and held them at bay in the barn while the cowboys went about their work. They knew they got their tits caught in a ringer, and there was no way out but to throw themselves on their captor's compassion. After watching the old goat die from one of their implants, the realization of their plight and possible termination at the whim of some nebulously defined secret government agency began to work on their psyches – big time.

While the other cowboys were working on the six SUVs, Roy Boynton and Dan Tate grabbed a couple of shovels, found a dry place behind the school bus next to the barn, and buried the old female goat. They said a few words of remorse over her aged body, agreed she was a heroine, and wished her well should she find herself reborn into another, better life. Dan Tate was pretty convincing in his strange, rather convoluted beliefs, but Roy laughed at him when he swore and be-damned he once had a teacher in high school who taught him Latin and she looked just like an old nanny goat.

* * * * * * *
Billy tickled Boomer and sent a message to gather his personal platoon of Cowboy-Angel bodyguards with their Watcher-Protector husbands to come back through the gate he planned to open when they finished at Joshua's ranch. He told Boomer to make sure the Cowboy-Angels were fully fledged. He wanted to make an indelible impression on the twelve men. Billy opened a larger than usual gate and the cowboys watched the twelve men's eyes grow big at what they were witnessing.

Boomer came through the gate followed in lockstep by Billy's well-turned-out platoon of personal Watcher bodyguards with their Cowboy-Angel-Warrior-husbands fully fledged and looking good. Billy tickled Boomer and sent his giant beast a quick message. He opened his arms for Boomer to come to him, and they embraced like two lovers who hadn't seen each other in months. They didn't hold back their passion for each other either. Billy's posse began to applaud, whistle, and stomp their boots at the unusual sight of a human and his great beast sharing a barn-burning kiss with each other in a rather pointed public display. Billy's posse intuitively knew what he and his mate were doing, and they couldn't have approved his shock tactics more.

“Now there's something you don't see very often,” said Spike Mulligan, second in command of the false NSA twelve. He laughed at his observation. Several of the other men laughed with him, but the leader, Vic Bodega, was not amused. “Dis-gus-ting!” Bodega said quietly to no one in particular, but loud enough everyone could hear his rude condemnation like he was the only truly masculine man in the barn. Several laughed at his homophobic comment.

“Oh, I don't know about that!” interjected one of the smaller men, Orin Sawin. “I wouldn't mind having me one of them handsome beasties to keep me warm at night. I'd be his little belly warmer anytime he was cold and needed a little extra warmth,” he added sincerely.

“Thanks, Sawin, for your irrelevant input. As usual we can always depend on our unit's resident queen for some faggy comment,” Bodega said snidely to the smaller man.

“I'm neither a queen nor a fag, Sweetie! I left Hollywood behind me a number of years ago and never looked back. I'm now an independent connoisseur and purveyor of unusual same-sex delights – heavy on the 'perve' and light on the 'yor,'” Sawin shot back. The rest of the men laughed.

“Bullshit! And if you ever call me 'Sweetie' again, I'll shove my foot so far up your goddamn butt, I'll wiggle my toes in your face when they pop out of your filthy mouth. You got that, you worthless little piece of shit!” Vic Bodega shouted at the top of his voice, like he was the only bull in the pasture and he was angry because he lost his position as leader of his herd.

Bodega's rude and uncalled for bitch-queen rage didn't intimidate the smaller man in the least. He got right in his leader's face, “Ooouu, did I wound my Captain's pseudo-masculine pride? What's a matter, Dorothy Gale, did you lose one of your ruby slippers? Your over-the-top nasty comment responding to Master Billy and his companion's genuine display of affection for each other was a disgrace to every man who has ever sucked another man's cock. Pull in you claws, Girlfriend, you don't have to play the role of the Big Cheese or Captain in charge, no more. There ain't no pay-grades when you're taken prisoner.

“Unless I missed something, we're officially prisoners of these men now. I'd say that pretty much levels the playing field. Your self-hating homo-demons and lack of compassion for others of our tribe whom you consider less manly than yourself is easy to see through. When you live in a glass castle, your deeply-enthroned inner-queen you so desperately try to hide from the world is on display for everyone to see. A real straight-man wouldn't give a shit if I called him 'sweetie.' Would it bother you if I called you 'sweetie,' General Boynton?” Sawin asked.

“No, Son, I'd probably invite you to come sit in my lap, and we could talk about the first thing what pops up,” the General bellowed and laughed. The rest of the men joined him. General Tater-puss laughed the hardest. It was obvious the arresting posse of Billy's cowboys were on Sawin's side. Orin Sawin continued, “You thought riding with the biker crowd would butch up your act, but instead of riding with a rough-and-tumble unpredictable straight group, you chose to ride with the geriatric unit of the 'Hell's Belles.' We all know how that worked out for you. You got bored with them pert-damn quick. All of us visited your place one time or another, and even in the dead of winter, you made us take off our goddamn boots at your front door so's we didn't leave no scuff marks on your precious white tile floors. What if one of your buddies caught pneumonia and died because of your social failure to be a concerned host? When a bottle of heavy-duty scuff remover is less than five bucks, that's pretty damn cold. So was your frick'n floor.

“Talk about me being a queen? You have very little room to brag in that area. You still got a couple of quarts left in your veins from your Hollywood days. Too bad. It makes you an unstable personality – not well balanced – as unpredictable as a rattlesnake – not someone I would choose to be around very often unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, for me, from time to time you have a naivete about you which is simple and playful like a young boy who just discovered the joys of life, and it's infectious. When you ain't got your head stuffed up your adult-ass and not sitting on your royal tuffet, you can be a great joy – a delight to be around with little or no effort, but the very worst part, which sometimes breaks my heart is, it comes to you so readily. You easily awaken the silly little boy in me, call me out to play, and for a little while we laugh, giggle, and find something funny in almost everything. Too bad you can't be more of the latter and less of the former. Your Queen of Hearts 'off-with-their-heads' drama-queen routine gets old pert-damn quick.

“If you really must make an attempt to fool everyone – if you must try to pass yourself off as a no non-nonsense straight man or hypocritically take it upon yourself to pass judgment on others for some minor appellation you took the wrong way, you should seriously consider going to one of them new-age quack doctors what uses live leaches to suck the 'queen-genes' from your blood. It might even firm-up your wrists a bit – but then, how would you communicate? Why didn't you just admit to the General we don't have families because we were specifically selected for our sexual orientation. It ain't no secret – every damn man in our unit prefers to bunk-it-in with his buddy. The only person you're fooling is yourself – Sweetie!” Sawin said even louder in a mocking manner.

You could smell the testosterone rising and feel the tension in the air as the two men stared into each other's eyes. Billy could swear he saw smoke come from Bodega's ears. The fire between them was moving closer to lighting the fuse. The grappling hooks on the rocket fell away and the countdown began.

“Enough!” shouted Billy as he and Boomer moved to the two men who were ready to rip each others throats out. Boomer came between them and pushed them apart from one another. Billy started throwing off his clothes and didn't stop until he was standing naked before everyone. Nick started laughing and got the rest of his posse laughing at Boomer and Billy's antics. As soon as Billy was completely naked, he morphed into a copy of General Heavy-drop's form as Baug's mate and giant beast. Billy held both sets of Royce Boynton's DNA within his memory banks. He was a foot and a half taller and considerably large than his mate, Boomer. The new men were impressed enough they forgot about the hyper-testosterone rocket on the launch pad for a moment.

“There will be no more verbal sparing among our prisoners, or I will strip you both and righteously fuck your butts before these men with this giant tool!” Billy said firmly, grabbed his enormous dong, and waved it at them like he was threatening them with a weapon of mass destruction, “When I morph to Watcher form, I got me a big-old bone inside my prick what keeps it good and hard. I can breed the dozen of you within an hour and leave an impressive calling card in each,” Billy roared, “No man's behind will be left – un-fucked, that is,” Billy assured them loudly, laughed, and got a few laughs and applause from his Marine contingency at his play on the motto of the Corps. Heavy-drop and Tater-puss were holding each other with tears in their eyes from laughing so hard.

“We'll gladly volunteer Hot-pants Sawin to be first to warm you up, sir,” Vic Bodega snarled.

“Why, that's probably the most thoughtful and considerate thing you could possibly suggest, Bullykins, and I would be honored, Master Billy. Unlike Captain Sweetie-pie, here, I know a good opportunity when I see it,” he shot back and leveled the playing field again. A few of the cowboys were convinced Orin Sawin had a tongue what could cut hardened steel at fifty paces. Every man in the barn broke up laughing at the good looking, smaller man.

“Why do you call him, Bullykins, Mr. Sawin?” Billy asked.

“Bullet is his middle name. Most times I just call him Bull because he can be so damn stubborn and hardheaded sometimes,” Orin replied.

“And may I assume 'Bullykins' is a questionable form of endearment?” Billy asked.

“Yes, sir, and also because he hates it,” Orin replied, winked at Billy, and continued, “He told us his daddy was the last sniper to kill a Vietcong from a chopper as the curtain fell on the war in Indochina, and his old man called it his 'victory bullet.' I guess it never occurred to him, we actually lost the war and our men came home emotionally devastated and morally depleted. It became a national shame. There were no ticker-tape parades to welcome home our conquering heroes. Everyone tried to forget it as quick as possible. Nevertheless, Mr. Bodega decided to name his first born son 'Victory Bullet Bodega.' I have to believe my Captain, Master Billy. Why would any man name his son 'Victory Bullet' if the story weren't true, sir?” he asked and got a round of laughter from the other men.

Billy turned to Vic Bodega and shook his head, “I think you better pull in you claws, lick what minor wounds were done to your masculine-ego, and let this matter be, Mr. Bodega. It's obvious to every man here, you started the unnecessary confrontation, and Mr. Sawin was right, it was a comment only a bitch-queen who is insecure with his own masculinity would make. Furthermore, Mr. Sawin's comments are considerably more compelling than yours. At least he has the guts to stand up to your bullying and not back down. Besides, you ain't nearly as fast thinking or as funny as Mr. Sawin when it comes to a battle of wits. He may be half your size, but he's got a quick mind what's up in lights. He knows more words than you, and he uses them better.

“That little man cut you up so bad, I thought for a minute there, you might bleed to death. Don't worry none, I was gonna' step in 'afore he ripped your throat out with them terrible fangs of his. If'n I's you, I'd make this man my close friend and treat him with respect. I'd make damn sure I never turned my back on him nor would I ever make the mistake of underestimating his intelligence. I certainly plan to practice what I preach with Mister Sawin, and I'm a man of my word. Sun-tzu, a great Chinese General and military strategist once wrote,'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,' Billy said.

“Hosanna!” shouted Admiral Sparks.

“Hosanna, in the highest!” replied the rest of Billy's posse and a few of the new men including Orin Sawin joined them.

“And now, if I can have your attention, Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you men to my husband. His name is 'Boomer.' I gave him his name when I was only seven years old. Boomer, his Watcher-Brothers, and their Warrior-Angel husbands are my personal bodyguard platoon. These great handsome beasts are known on our planet as Bigfoot or Sasquatch. To us, they are known as Watchers, who have kept watch over us for centuries to make damn sure we don't destroy ourselves. It's only been within this century we have come together for the betterment of both species. Boomer is the father of our son who will be born in about six more months to a surrogate mother. If we come to know you better and feel we can trust you, we will share with you wonders you never imagined possible. Furthermore, I'm proud to tell you men, I was recently appointed to be the Watcher's master on our planet. You'll learn more about the details later.

“My bodyguard platoon will be your guards and chaperons during your stay on the Daniels ranch. The way you will be treated will depend on your individual personal attitudes toward making an effort to become integrated into our greater family. We don't plan to punish you for your mistakes – unless, as Mister Sawin put it, you're connoisseurs of unusual sexual delights and request it of us. I'm sure one of our stern and discipline-demanding masters will be happy to oblige you,” Billy grinned wickedly and paused while everyone shared a good laugh. “And, Mr. Bodega, as a further comment on your lack of proper social skills, you might keep that offer in mind, sir. We have several masters in our tribe who would be glad to teach you some manners and whip your sudo-butch ass into shape – as it were,” Billy said drolly and got a laugh from both sides of the fence.

Billy continued, “It ain't in our nature to do harm to anyone, outside of assuring our own protection and that of our family. On the other hand, don't take it for granted we're hemorrhaging-heart regressive left wing liberals who wouldn't hesitate to eat their own children rather than speak against such social cancers as unfettered multiculturalism. Likewise, we accept the fact we must coexist with you men for a while until a consensus is reached between us. You might even find we have many things and ideals in common. Personally, I'm counting on it.

“What about our personal belonging, sir?” Mulligan asked.

“A small posse will be assigned to find out what we need to know about you men, and they will be the ones who will see to your needs. We'll work with you, gather your personal belonging, and make sure they are safe. If you have larger holdings, we have means for processing such matters which can't be traced. I would urge you to cooperate with us to make our jobs easier, and if you do, I promise you will never regret it; however, should you have any lingering loyalties to a super-agency inside or outside of our government we will find out about it and you will be suppressed.

“If you harbor any thoughts of escape to notify your previous employers, such an action would be foolhardy on your part. Let me put it into stronger words: it would be downright stupid. You would be committing suicide and possibly cost us many lives as well. Let me warn you, Gentlemen, I will not place my family in jeopardy. Ask yourself if you really want to take the chance? Even if you were successful, it would only trigger a frantic search to locate your whereabouts with no thought to rescue you but to eliminate you as soon as possible. When your micro-chips were destroyed, you were immediately placed on a seek-and-destroy priority list to terminate with extreme prejudice. I'm sure you men are familiar with the terminology.

“Right now, you might want to consider your lives outside this holding cell were actually terminated when your implants were deactivated. For all practical purposes, you are now under our protection. It boils down to one important point: if you want to live, you will listen to reason – our reason at first, which hopefully, you will make your reason. Search your souls. We are not the enemy. By invading us without giving us a sound reason, we must assume you are working for some nefarious corporation what has taken certain investigations into their own hands and are running roughshod over individual rights. The gathering-as-much-clandestine-information-as-you-can-through-intimidation-and-secrecy train has been brought to a screeching halt. You have invaded our ranks and until we learn your mission, your purpose, and who you represent, you will remain incarcerated. Instead of trying to huff and puff and intimidate us, you might consider working with us. You will neither be tortured nor intimidated. Your future is up to you. Let's hope you're capable of making better choices than you have so far,” Billy said.

“Hosanna!” shouted General Heavy-drop.

“Hosanna, in the highest!” echoed the rest of Billy's family.

Billy's platoon marched the new men through the gate into the dungeon of the castle, and herded them into the larger cell next to the aliens. None of the spurious NSA men ever saw a real alien before. They stood and looked at each other for a while. Judging from their stunned reaction, Billy was almost certain their overlords never shared the alien secret with them. It certainly was another major jolt to their psyches. They were slowly beginning to piece things together and several began thinking about their cowboy captors in a new light – certainly with a tad more respect.

After a while, the guards opened their cell and ordered them to strip naked. The men grumbled and protested, but the guards firmly insisted. They told them they didn't have an option. While six of the twelve men were pretty large, Billy's humanoid bodyguards and their Watcher husbands were too big, muscular, and intimidating for them to consider even a minor rebellion. Billy's body guards provided each of them with a good size cardboard box to neatly store their clothes and carefully wrote each man's name on their corresponding box. It was neither cold nor damp in the cell like they were led to believe. It was a comfortable temperature, and there were blankets on the bunks to cover themselves if they were chilled or overly modest. None seemed to be concerned about being nude. Their keepers told them they would be provided with more appropriate clothing in a short while.

* * * * * * *
Billy asked his Cowboy-Angels for a show of hands, who would accept the job of being Bossman over a small posse to act as a board of governors and liaisons between their new prisoners and the family? Roy Boynton's hand flew up the fastest. The young, good looking, recently refurbished Cowboy-Warrior desperately wanted to become a greater part of Master Billy's family, and he saw it as the perfect job to prove himself. Billy caught his dad's eye and General Heavy-drop nodded his approval. Billy assigned Roy Boynton to the job. He and several more men would ride herd on the new men, see to their care, their needs, and try to answer any questions they might have. Roy and his team were also to gather any information they could from them, from the basics of their names, addresses, and any other information they would share with him.

* * * * * * *
It was still early morning when the men returned from the Swift ranch and incarcerated the false government men. They left them in their cell with their new keepers and guards. The cowboys began to prepare for the Saturday Barbecue and Concert. The old barn worked well for serving the food. Several of Billy's watchers came to him and told him the Watchers who, despite the rain, came to the ranch and were camping out in the great cave next to where Captain Nick's ship was hidden. Billy told them it was all right – it worked for him. They would open a large gate and pull a small flat-bed trailer through, loaded with food and goodies using one of the new ranch Scoot-abouts which was powered by an engine of Archie and Edith's design. It became a workhorse around the ranch the cowboys lovingly referred to as Gutsy Gus or G-G for short. It was powerful and quiet. Billy arranged to have a huge holo-vid screen and sound system taken to the cave for the Watchers who wouldn't clean themselves enough to allow them into the new auditorium.

* * * * * * *
Roy didn't have a clue how he might go about gaining the twelve men's trust and start them thinking in a way which might be beneficial to everyone. After learning they were a group of men who shared same-sex orientation, Roy thought it might be a plus since many of Master Billy's men were of the same persuasion or at least tolerant, but after listening to Bodega and Sawin's exchange, he wasn't so sure. It made him think about an advertisement he saw on the tube one time of cowboys herding hundreds of cats across the country. It looked like total chaos.* Roy's dad, General Boynton, Colonel Halfablap, Captain Langstrom, General Tate, Master Billy and several other men, including the four main NSA men they counted among them as family, gave him a crash course in what they needed and suggestions how he might go about working with them.

Roy asked Captain Langstrom if he would be his ramrod and steward. Bart readily agreed. They also invited General Dan Tate; Deek Swanson, and Bafra Bootles. Deek and Bafra tried to beg-out by claiming they didn't know nothing about being jailers. Their Bossman, Colonel Hank Halfablap told them it was high time they got off their newly-refurbished cowboy butts and learned some new tricks. They weren't old dogs no more, and damned if he would let them sleep on the porch without them treeing a coon from time to time. Everyone laughed at his euphemism.

The other men heartily approved Roy's choice of a ramrod/steward to guide him and the other men he and Captain Bart recruited. The first thing Captain Bart did, when he could get the young cowboy away from the heavy brass, was take Roy and his posse to the Cloud Chambers and introduce him to Seth, the ship's artificial intelligence. Roy and Bart were amused Seth had a completely different take on how to get the information they needed and insinuate themselves into the group of men as comrades rather than have them look upon them as outsiders and the enemy.

Seth's ideas were, by far, more humane than some of the men who went with them to the Swift ranch. Roy, Bart, and their posse agreed, there was nothing 'artificial' about Seth. His sense of fair play and compassion easily trumped some of the more conservative views of Master Billy's posse even though part of their misguided passion was probably inspired by the freshness of their anger from the rude and inconsiderate confrontation from the leader of the men pretending to be something they weren't. They failed to consider the intruders might have been engaged by whomever they called their masters with the full understanding they truly were an elite corps of the NSA.

Roy and Bart decided they would certainly incorporate Seth's suggestions along with some of their Cowboy-Angel brothers better suggestions. One suggestion Seth made which astounded Roy and Bart, was for them to consider asking the young intersexual cowboy Jack Rigby if he would like to become a part of their team. Jack worked hard for his place among the other cowboys and earned himself the proud cognomen 'Wrangler Jack.' He was growing like a weed in a well tended garden. Bart didn't see any problem, but they followed protocol and asked Jack's ward and main man at the ranch, his granddad, Colonel Halfablap. The Colonel thought it was a great idea and gave the men and Jack his blessing.

* * * * * * *
It was going on eleven o'clock heading for high noon, when Roy Boynton took his new posse, including Jack Rigby, to the cell where the twelve nebulous false-government men were being held. They were accompanied by Master Billy's personal bodyguard squad and Roy introduced his team to the twelve men. He introduced himself as Lieutenant Royce Boynton Junior, of the Marine Corps, the son of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Four Star General Royce Boynton. He introduced Captain Bart Langstrom, of the Marine Corps as his ramrod and steward; Lieutenant General Dan Tate, of the Marine Corps, Rancher Deek Swanson and his partner Bafra Bootles, and last but not least, one of Master Billy Daniels young ranch hands, Wrangler Jack Rigby. Roy explained he and his posse he just introduced to them were to be their go-between for them and Master Billy's family. The men appeared to be as antsy as a herd of cattle before a big thunderstorm. Roy asked how they were holding up?

Vic Bodega answered. “After you took away our clothes, them aliens have been looking at us like we're a bunch of freshly baked hens just taken out of the oven,” he complained and several of the others agreed with him, including Orin Sawin.

“Yeah, they start to look at us that way when they get hungry. Sorry about that. We ain't fed 'em in a while, and I imagine they're getting a mite peckish. They don't eat like we do. They absorb their nutrients through their hands and arms from a slurry of animal blood and flesh. They don't have no digestive tracts like us and don't have to use the bathroom. Watching them eat ain't pretty sight. Not something you'd want to watch more'n once't. We think they're a race of manufactured beings what we call biological-robots. While you men will be with us for the afternoon, we'll have a crew erect a divider so's you won't have to see them, and they can't lust after you hot hens,” Roy said and got a laugh from from everyone except stoic Vic Bodega.

About that time, Hank Renfrow and his mate Buck Appleby accompanied by Jurgen Ironmonger and his business partner, Sylvan Aspidistra pushing four anti-grav gurneys with three boxes on each. “Ah, here are your clothes, Gentlemen. Each box is for the man with his name on it. You will find the clothing items inside will fit each of you perfectly. Your names are written on the pockets for laundry purposes. We hope you'll be more comfortable,” Roy said as he opened the cell door, and the men pushed the anti-grav gurneys into the large cell.

The men were flabbergasted from the gravity defying gurneys. “That ain't no technology from Earth,” one of the men said.

“Well, yes, it is, sir. We're still on Earth,” Roy assured him and everyone laughed nervously.

“You know what I mean,” he said while lifting the box with the name 'Andrew Grimes' neatly written on the side off the last gurney.

“Yes, I do, but you're going to see many things this afternoon you never have before – some things you never thought possible, but we will try to explain as much as we can with the limits of how much we want you to know. Just try to relax and enjoy yourselves. We'll answer as many questions as we safely can, but don't be surprised if we tell you we can't divulge certain information. I think you men are probably intelligent enough you can understand our position,” Roy said like the ultimate ambassador.

“Holy crap! Would you get a load of these boots?” another man named 'Arnie Percolator' yelled, “and there ain't just one pair, there are two,” he added as he pulled out another pair.

“You will find several of everything in the box – Western shirts, boot-cut Wranglers, belts, socks, boots, and a couple of hats but no underwear. Cowboys don't wear no underwear. We'll put a hamper in the shower and toilet area for dirty clothes. They will be picked up once a day in the mornings and returned to you that afternoon. Now, you gentlemen get dressed, and we will take you to our dining hall for dinner. On our ranch there are three meals a day – breakfast, dinner, and supper. We don't use the word 'lunch,'” Roy said and smiled. “Any questions?” he asked.

“Are we going to stay in this cell all the time?” Vic Bodega asked.

“Naw, Sir. After lunch we'll take you men to the great hall in our castle and you can watch a holo-video of Master Billy and the Highland Shire Barnyard Symphony Orchestra play a pretty demanding program for the dedication of our new auditorium which we built over the past six months. There will be two parts – a classical section, followed by a country and Western section. We hope you enjoy it. Do you like classical music, Mr. Bodega?” Roy asked.

“I hold a Master's Degree in music from USC, and have done work on a doctorate. I only lack a final composition which, so far, has never been written,” he mumbled like he wasn't real proud of his education.

“Who did you study under, Mr. Bodega?” young Jack Rigby asked.

“Morten Lauridsen,” Bodega replied like the man's name was a sacred prayer.

“The second piece we will be playing for the opening of the dedication program is one of his compositions, sir,” Jack said and smiled.

“Lux Aeterna?” the big man asked.

“Yes, sir,” Jack confirmed.

“Your Master has good taste, Son,” Bodega said quietly. What's the first piece?” he asked Jack.

“I'm not allowed to tell you the name of the piece, but I can tell you the composer, sir. Master Billy will announce the piece,” Jack replied.

“Who is the composer, Jack?” he asked.

“A British composer, sir, Jonathan Dove,” Jack replied.

“I know the piece he will be playing, Seek Him Who Maketh The Seven Stars. A perfect companion composition to the Lauridsen piece. Your Master has two solid home-runs in his favor,” Bodega allowed.

“You never told me you were a musician, Bodega!” Orin Sawin said like he was shocked and a bit hurt.

“I ain't real proud of it. I never accomplished what I set out to do. I ain't done nothing worth talking about,” he said like he was in agony discussing it.

“I think I can empathize with that, Bull,” Sawin said with understanding. “I wouldn't be surprised if every man in our platoon would agree they have the same feeling about their lives,” he added.

“Have you men ever caught one of our our Barnyard Concerts on the Net?” Captain Langstrom asked. No one raised a hand, “Then, you're in for a treat,” Bart added.

At noon the men were taken into the great dining hall. The food was served family style. You passed platters and bowls to your neighbor and took what you wanted. Roy explained every Saturday dinner was barbecue brisket and the men were once again flabbergasted by the taste and amount of food. They ate like a pack of ravenous wolves and had no problem finding room for dessert.

“I don't care what the rest of you men think, but this feed is the nearest to Heaven I'm ever likely to get,” said, Lester Graves, the largest man in the group.

The rest of the men agreed with Graves except Bodega. He kept his mouth shut but ate his fill.

After the men finished dinner, Roy and his posse and Master Billy's platoon of personal body guards took the men across the way to the great hall. It wasn't time for the concert to begin, but Roy stood before them. “We have some time so we thought to get to know you men we would give and take with you. We will give you some idea who we are and what we're trying to accomplish. Our hope is our gesture of honesty will convince you, you have no need to fear us. We only want what our forefathers wanted: a good life without a lot of complications,” Roy said and spoke to the on-board intelligence. “Seth, would you please start our presentation?” Roy asked.

“Happy to, Master Roy,” Seth replied and a huge holographic picture appeared of a young man in a hospital type bed with no hands, legs, and burn scares over ninety percent of his body. His face was unrecognizable.

“Not a pretty picture. This is a young man who didn't have it so good in the Middle East and returned like this about eight years ago. He laid in that bed for eight long years. Do any of you men recognize him?” Roy asked. No one answered. “Would anyone like to take a guess?” he asked.

One hand went up, “Is that poor man you, Mr. Boynton?” Orin Sawin asked.

“Good guess, Mr. Sawin! Yes, that's a picture of me before I met Master Billy Daniels and his family. He and his men brought me here, along with my dad. Him and his men rebuilt and refurbished me. He made me whole again, but I'm not the only one. The next picture will be easier to guess, but nonetheless impressive,” Roy said, and a picture of Captain Bart Langstrom came on the screen showing him in his wheelchair. Roy nodded for Bart to take up the narrative.

“That was me a couple of months ago confined to a wheelchair because of a rodeo accident. I got gored pretty damn bad and stomped on by a huge Brahma Bull. He managed to break my back and damn near severed my spinal chord. Needless to say, I didn't win the bull riding contest at the rodeo that day. In a heartbeat, my life came to an abrupt halt. From then on, it was one of misery. It was like living in Hell. That was almost seven years ago. I was in a rest home with elderly people who had little or nothing in common with me. Fortunately, I was befriended by a middle aged man, Mr. Brent Sparks, who was a saint and became my champion. Somehow, several months ago, Brent got an invitation from Mrs. Kate Daniels, Master Billy's mother, to come to the ranch for a weekend, and she asked him to bring me with him. That was two months ago and now I'm a buckaroo and a member of the Daniels family. Master Billy Daniels and his posse gave my life back to me. Since that time, I have rejoined the Marine Corps – I know what you must be thinking, I'm a glutton for punishment. I won't agree to the punishment part, but I will admit I'm one who needs firm discipline,” Bart said, laughed, and paused for a moment. Several of the men laughed at his aside.

“We could show you picture after picture of dramatic healings Master Billy and his men have accomplished. Do any of you men remember the story of the Walmart Cowboy Jesus who healed a boy with a terminal disease?” Bart asked. Suddenly it hit them. Every man in the room remembered something about a cowboy healing a young boy in a Walmart parking lot in Fredericksburg, Texas. "That young boy was Randy Rutherford, and he will be singing and playing with the orchestra this afternoon. He has been fully healed and will live a long and happy life due to Billy Daniels,” Bart said.

* * * * * * *
The village people who were working on Captain Nick's ship were beginning to come into the great hall to watch the concert. Roy asked Seth to shut down their presentation and connect them with the concert. The show was just beginning and the new announcer and host for the concert, Doug Quilty, was at the microphone describing everything. His camera man Wes Taylor and three assistants on three other cameras were working with him. In the control room was Stan Norsworthy directing and barking camera numbers. It was a memorial production for everyone. It was their first broadcast on their own Internet channel and hundreds of thousands of people were tuned in to their broadcast.

The camera took in a slow sweeping picture of the impressive new auditorium and finally came to the people finding their seats while the choir took their place. And what a choir it was. In the back row at the highest elevation of the stage was a battery of a dozen giant Watcher beasts groomed to perfection, each with a large formal white bow-tie clipped to his neck fur. Their fur moved and seemed to flow in the soft air currents of the auditorium. They were indeed a handsome lot. It was the first time Watchers were included in the show. In front of them was the major cowboy-cowgirl choir dressed in handsome sky blue Western shirts. There was a little over a hundred of them. The cowgirls wore blouses and full skirts made from the same material as the cowboys shirts and were the same blue color. Before them was one long row of the younger set of cowboys and girls dressed the same. Before them were approximately thirty empty chairs what looked like they might be for young children.

* * * * * * *
“When the company who are building and installing the grand organ in the great auditorium found out Master Billy and his people were performing a piece which calls for an organ accompaniment, they brought him one of the finest of their line of electronic organs and temporarily installed it for him,” Doug Quilty announced, “And now everyone seems to be gathered and the audience is quietening down waiting for Maestro Billy Daniels to come out and walk to the podium. And here he comes dressed in the same style as his chorus and orchestra. The audience is going crazy as Maestro Billy mounts the podium, takes his baton, turns and bows to the audience. He acknowledges everyone, his orchestra, his chorus, and turns back to the audience,” Doug narrates. “Wait a minute! The Maestro is looking at his watch, and he's beginning to pat his boot like he's impatient about something, turns to his people, shrugs his shoulder, opens his arms like he's questioning them, and looks at his watch again. The orchestra and chorus look at each other, shake their heads, and several look at their own watches,” Doug builds the tension.

From high up in the back of the auditorium a small voice is heard, “Don't start without us, Master Billy. We'll be right there, Maestro!” And thirty of the Sun Bears, one by one, launched into the air flying over everyone's heads circling the auditorium wearing beautiful gossamer white and golden robes with glowing halos over their heads. The audience went crazy laughing and pointing to the beautiful creatures. The new prisoners in the great hall were sitting on the edge of their seats and were laughing and pointing at the small humanoids. They were astounded by the beautiful little creatures.

“And here comes the beautiful and graceful Sun Bears to fill the empty seats at the bottom of the choir,” announces Doug Quilty and laughs. “Have you ever seen such a delightful sight. The halos are a prop, but they do look angelic, don't they?” he asks his audience. The Sun Bears made two complete circles around the perimeter of the auditorium waving and blowing kisses to the audience beneath them. They were having a ball and hamming up their late arrival like they were the Prima-donnas of the show. They finally flew down to the front of the choir, took their places, removed their halos, and hooked them on the back of their small chairs. The audience went crazy laughing and applauding for them. Things began to quiet down.

“Thank you for joining us, my Children,” Billy said over his lapel microphone, “Are you all right?”

“Thank you for your patience, Maestro. Sorry we're late. We're all right, sir,” Sunsastubo replied for them. The audience laughed and applauded.

“Do you need a minute to catch your breath?” Billy asked, and the audience laughed again.

“No, Maestro, it was downhill all the way to our seats – but thank you for asking, sir,” Sunsastubo answered and got another laugh from the audience.

“May I start the concert now?” Billy asked and the audience laughed.

“Please do, Maestro. The people are waiting, sir,” Sunsastubo said and got another laugh from the audience.

“Ladies and Gentlemen and those watching on our new Internet web site, welcome to the first concert to be held in our new auditorium. I think we have a wonderful, truly remarkable program for you today. Without further ado we'd like to start our program with a choral piece by a fine, talented British composer, Jonathan Dove, “Seek Him Who Maketh The Seven Stars.” It is our way of thanking one of our great benefactors for helping us on our journey into unknown lands who will remain unnamed because he is of a modest character, but he will understand our heartfelt message. So, if you're out there and listening, Captain Nemo, this wonderful piece of music is for you, sir. It is our hope it brings you joy and peace in your travels through the universe,” Billy said and turned back to his people.

Billy gave a downbeat, and Vox Humana began the opening ostinato on the new organ. It reverberated and filled the auditorium with a lush sound almost like running water. Billy cued the chorus and they came in to sing the words. Their voices, too, were like soft velvet and easily got into the soft, sacred mood of the piece. The high treble voices of the Sun Bears and the doubling of the octave in the bass parts by the Watchers gave the piece a new dimension rarely heard in a choir. It was ethereal. After the beginning phrase, the choirs soft chanting to “Seek him!” “Seek him!” Sounded like a cross between an urgent plea and a soft prayer to look out into the universe not only to find the maker of the seven stars, but that of the universe. Billy was so thrilled with the combined voices, his whole body seemed to glow. Vox Humana outdid himself training and working hours with their choir.

Orin Sawin was sitting next to Vic Bodega and watched the big man's reaction out of his peripheral vision. He saw his Captain was touched to his core. As the big man listened, tears formed in his eyes, and he began to weep uncontrollably. Orin whipped out his bandanna they gave the men with their cowboy outfits and handed it to Bodega. Vic took it and began to wipe his tears away. Orin slipped his smaller arm around Bodega and held him. Sawin's gesture of kindness and concern overwhelmed the big man, and he didn't hold back.

The audience found the Dove piece much to their liking. They applauded and cheered greatly.

* * * * * * *
The next piece Billy explained was one of two pieces of music to dedicate the opening of their new hall. They were going to play and sing Morten Lauridsen's beautiful piece 'Lux Aeterna.' Billy explained it was like a prayer for the light of the universe to guide them, and in hope, the eternal light might change their world from greed and avarice to one of goodness and caring for one another. He accepted the fact it might seem like an impossible task, but every great change must start with a beginning. He hoped the Lauridsen piece would instill hope in everyone and a sense of personal worth as they take their first step on a long and possibly perilous journey.
Lauridsen's music was like experiencing a wonderful, soft wet dream. It tugs at your heart strings as it builds and recedes like ocean waves run to shore to kiss the beach and then return to the bulk of the sea. It was well received by the audience, and Vic Bodega. He shared with his smaller partner, he never heard it performed better than what he just witnessed. He was more than a little impressed by Billy Daniels conducting.

* * * * * * *
Billy announced they couldn't have a concert without some Bach and since their rag-tag Clandestine Cowboy Baroque Chamber Orchestra was so successful over the last few months, he felt on such an auspicious occasion they should revisit their old friend Johann Sebastian from the eighteenth century and see if they could once again rope and ride the first three of his Brandenburg Concertos. It's also a good excuse and a fine way of letting several of our younger musicians and a couple of our more mature musicians shine brightly,” Billy explained.

Billy walked to the grand harpsichord and sat down. Randy was playing his favorite Piccolo violin and Poly and Cass stood at the ready with several other young violinist including Pard Andreesen and Tommy Griffin. The boys asked the Byrd ladies if they would like to fill in and they gratefully jumped at the chance. The orchestra asked Clara Mae Bastiaen if she would like to sit first chair oboe on the first Brandenburg and she was thrilled they would ask. She invested in a fine baroque instrument, and it made a lovely sound. Sitting at the second chair oboe was Rory McMartin, and Cal McMartin sat in the third chair. Big massive Gog played the Bassoon for the piece. Kayla played the cello along with her teacher, Aunt Helen. Rox Cumber played her fantastic Amati Viola and standing with her was the cousin of the Byrd family and two other viola players to balance the number of fiddles. Cloog and Aeron manned the coach horns. Claude and Cowboy Andy wrestled the two double basses.

Billy gave the downbeat, and they were off. The small but extremely talented chamber orchestra gave its all to the music, and they never played better. It was a great success. Vic Bodega was uneasy in his seat. His whole body was responding to the sheer beauty and exquisitely precise, crisp playing by what looked like a posse of young cowboys. The tempo was staggering for them to be playing so maturely. He never heard Bach played with such passion and intellect. Their phrasing and interaction between the instruments and musicians was incomparable. Vic Bodega never heard anything like it before and was having a physical reaction to his joy in listening to such outrageously played Bach.

The horn players intonation was flawless and the big man was equally impressed by Billy Daniels performance at the harpsichord. Conducting and playing at the same time is not an easy task. Bodega felt something moving down below his gut. There was no warning. The feeling rolled over him like a Texas Blue Northern barreling across the plains. He reached to his back pocket, grabbed his own bandanna and, shoved it down into his Wranglers, but he was too late. He reached an orgasm before he could position his bandanna to catch himself. The best he could do was blot it up and leave it be. He was so possessed, he couldn't bring himself to excuse himself and asked to be taken to the restroom to clean himself.

“Don't feel bad. I damn near shot my load a couple of times,” Orin Sawin whispered.

“I don't feel bad. It's the best damn feeling I felt in a good while – Sweetie!” he replied and winked at Sawin. Sawin giggled and tickled his Captain in his ribs. They shared a much needed laugh. When the first concerto was finished, the audience went crazy and the audience in the great hall did the same. The prisoners, Master Billy's body guards, and the village folks were yelling and cheering for them. The applause went on for sometime and individual players took a bow.

“Please, everyone be seated. There's more to come and you ain't seen or heard nothing yet,” Zak the lead body guard said to everyone in the great hall.

“I don't know how they could top that,” Bodega said to his little buddy.

* * * * * *
“There will be some changes in players for the second Brandenburg Concerto,” Maestro Billy announced, “The soloist will be Kayla Rutherford on alto fipple flute, her little brother, Randy Rutherford on violin – better known to us as Bossman Randy – (the audience laughed) – young Master Rory McMartin will play the baroque oboe part, and our dearly beloved cowboy wrangler Zeke Mildew will rope and wrestle the baroque trumpet – no small feat, I might add. Last but not least, our lovely Roz Cumber will play the cello part,” Billy said and without further ado he sat down at the harpsichord around which the soloist arranged themselves. Roz sat in a chair just back and to the side of Master Billy.

Vic Bodega just returned from the restroom and managed to clean himself. He heard Billy's speech but was flabbergasted at the youth of three of the soloist. The young girl couldn't have been more than ten years old. Her brother was, at least two to three years younger than her, and the young oboist looked like he had not yet reached puberty. “This should be interesting,” he said to Orin Sawin.

“Bet chu' a blowjob they knock your boots off,” Sawin said and winked.

“Oh, Hell, you'd win either way!” exclaimed Bodega and laughed. It was the first time in a very long while Sawin saw his Captain relax and let his hair down – and to think, it was long-hair music what done it. Who would have guessed? Sawin thought there must be a spiritual connection.

Billy raised his hands to come down on the keys of the harpsichord, and it was the downbeat to begin. The group took off like a mechanical rabbit at a dog race, and they were again flawless. The old trumpet player was phenomenal. They came to the end of the first movement and began the second movement. The slow movement the trumpet drops out and only the flute, violin, the oboe, and the cello carry the musical conversation, while the harpsichord provided the continuo. It was beautiful and Bodega never saw such young musicians play with such dedication and maturity. They were literally making this movement and the piece of music their own. It was one of the most memorable readings of the second Bach Brandenburg Bodega ever heard, and they hadn't even played the last movement.

Billy left little pause between the second and last movement. The players were off and running at a remarkably brisk pace and Bodega wondered if they could sustain such a fast clip. The old trumpeter was again flawless and the rest of the players were keeping up with him without breathing heavy. The young oboists and the trumpeter were playing in such a close sync Bodega imagined they must be in love with each other. There was no doubt in his mind the soloist were in a world of their own. It was one of the single most wonderful playing of any Bach piece Bodega ever heard. It was phenomenal. When they finished the audience gave them a standing ovation.

* * * * * * *
The third Brandenburg concerto is for a small string orchestra and has its own personal charm. Billy decided to use the entire string sections until the last movement when soloist would take the theme of the gigue-like quality and run with it. It was a masterful reading of it as well and the audience responded in kind. Bodega could only shake his head in awe and grin at his small companion.

“What does it take to really impress you, Vic?” Sawin asked quietly. He wasn't trying to annoy the big man.

“To be an all round musician, you must be able to play an instrument and write music. I'll give him credit for his keyboard work on the Brandenburgs, but has he written anything?” Bodega asked.

“I think he has. I overheard some town folks talking about getting to hear one of his compositions this afternoon,” Sawin said.

“Good! I'll look forward to it,” Bodega responded.

* * * * * * *
There was a brief pause while the harpsichord was hauled away and put beneath the stage. Billy took the podium, turned to the audience and spoke. “We will now jump from the Eighteenth Century to the Twentieth Century to play a piece by Paul Hindemith. His Kammermusik No. 5, a concerto for Viola and orchestra. It is said, Hindemith wrote eight of his Kammermusik pieces between 1921 and 1927 as an homage to J. S. Bach, and while it is totally different tonally and melodically, it contains the same overall character of a baroque piece of music with it's unflagging pace and similar rhythms. Our soloist for this piece will be our own Roz Cumber. This is the first time Roz has played this piece with an orchestra. She and I have practiced together, and Roz has played it with my accompaniment. We've sort of kept it under wraps as a special surprise for this concert. We hope you enjoy it,” Billy finished, turned to the orchestra, Roz nodded to him she was ready, Billy gave the downbeat and the beast was launched.

“My God, I forgot how much I like this piece, and they're playing it well. When I first heard it, I thought it was Bach with wrong notes, but that ain't too far from the truth. Hindemith was a genius either years ahead of his time or behind it. He was a unique composer and like Bach, there will never be another like him,” Bodega declared.

When they finished, Roz and Billy took several bows. Roz masterful playing of the piece was enough to capture the hearts and minds of the audience and her fellow musicians. They rewarded her with their love and appreciation. Billy called for a thirty minute break, and afterward, they would begin the last part of their concert. He promised no delay this time. He jokingly said he had his posse glue the Sun Bears to their seats. He got a round of laughter from everyone including his beloved little 'children,'

During the break, the stage hands brought up the new Yamaha Concert Grand piano. Billy returned to the podium and announced they would take a trip back to the Eighteenth Century and their beloved artist in residence, Jessie Jones, and the orchestra will play Beethoven's First Piano Concerto. The audience applauded Jessie as he walked onto the stage, hugged Billy, shook his hand, and took his place at the piano. He looked around and gave a sharp whistle and Daffy and Chloe bounded onto the stage amid much applause, whistles, and cheers from the audience and took their places next to their master. He patted each one, and they lay down on either side of him.

“Are we ready?” Billy asked and got a big laugh.

“You ready, Daffy?” Jessie asked.

“I'm ready, Boss,” he replied.

“You ready, Chloe?” Jessie asked.

“I'm ready, Master Jessie,” she replied and the audience went crazy.

“We're ready Maestro,” Jessie assured Billy.

“Just wanted to make sure,” Billy got the last word and turned to the orchestra, raised his baton, and gave a downbeat. The orchestra responded with the full sound of the introduction. Billy started the piece a little faster than the average, but he and Jessie got their heads together and Jessie decided he wanted a bit faster tempo. His playing of the first movement was flawless and he played the longest and probably the most difficult of the cadenzas Beethoven wrote for the piece. It was almost a separate recital by itself, and Jessie played it masterfully. Billy had the green light on for a continuing performance signaling not to applaud until the green light went off and the red light came on. His audience didn't pay the light no never mind and when Jessie and the orchestra finished the last few measures of the first movement, they jumped to their feet and applauded loudly for Jessie. Jessie grinned, winked at Billy, and bowed from his piano bench. The rest of the concerto was played just as easily as if Jessie was taking a stroll in the park. When he finished they gave him and his pups a standing ovation. Jessie and his family left the stage and the stage hands removed the piano.

The two Byrd men, Wilbur and Wilbur Junior, walked down to the front of the stage carrying their Baritones in their arms and the audience started applauding. They figured they were going to play Maestro Billy's composition, Concerto for Two Baritones. Billy turned to the audience to announce their next work. “I see you've already figured out what comes next. I swear on the name of some unknown god I wasn't going to include my work on the dedication program, but I've been begged and hounded to include it in this concert – for my beloved musical buddies, the wonderful Bird men,” Billy said and got laughs and applause from the audience.

Billy went on and spoke directly to Wilbur and his son. “I hear you been pretty busy touring the country playing my music. How's it going for you men?” he asked.

“We're eating steak instead of hamburger,” Daddy Wilbur replied and everyone roared with laughter.

“Good to hear! How have the responses been?” Billy asked.

“The more we play it, the more invites we get. We ain't got a bad review and everybody loves the music,” Wilbur Junior replied.

“You men ready to blow them big horns?” Billy asked and laughed.

“Let's do it, Maestro!” Daddy Byrd said and the audience applauded again.

Billy raised his baton and gave a downbeat, and the orchestra began the introduction. It wasn't long when Wilbur Junior started his first run and reached his penultimate note and started cascading down the scale the start the first of several interlocking melodies. His dad's part started as little more than support and slowly grew to be strong until they were playing like they were making brotherly love to each other. There were no movements per se. It was all one continuous piece. On the score Billy wrote 'Allegro' for the first section, 'Slow but Moving' for the middle, and “Green Apple Quickstep” for the last part. The Byrds were in excellent form and the orchestra was in love with them. They were in their groove and playing like the professionals they were.

“Well?” Orin Sawin asked his Captain halfway through the slow part.

“Shush! The jury's still out. So far so good, but I hope to Hell he don't blow it at the end,” Vic Bodega said.

“Ain't that what two horns is supposed to do?” Orin asked.

“That ain't what I mean and you know it,” Bodega replied and grinned.

After the final call and answer, the two have more conversation with each other, then join in a magnificent duet. Papa Byrd began to fad away until the last painful, heart ripping glissando, and Junior Byrd lets out a wail which could break your heart and the orchestra finishes.

“He did it! He told a complete story without words. He's a frick'n genius. I have to study under him while he's young and can convey his means of creating to someone else. Fuck them NSA people. There's more important things in life than espionage no matter on what level. The more I hear of his music making, the more I ask myself what them booger-men could possibly want from such a talented and seemingly caring man,” Bodega said.

“You won't get no argument from me, Sweetie,” Sawin said and grinned.

Bodega gave Orin a sharp look, then grinned back at him. Maybe that's what I'll name my first composition – My Sweetie and Me,” Bodega said and laughed.

“Now that's the wonderful, playful little boy I know and love,” Sawin said and grinned.

* * * * * * *
Billy called for another thirty minute break before performing the last work of the day, Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 in D minor, the 'Choral' Opus 125 – one of his last works. It was to be the ultimate dedication piece for their beautiful new auditorium. Billy marveled at the crisp acoustics the hall provided. You could hear clearly from every point in the building without amplification. During the break the vocal soloist came into the auditorium. Billy knew the soprano, the Contralto, the Tenor, but bringing up the rear was Boomer wearing a smart white bow-tie clipped to his ample hair under his chin.

“Boomer? What is this? Some kind of joke?” Billy pressed and saw Vox Humana and Nick sitting with his family. They were laughing their asses off at the look on Billy's face. “What's this about?” Billy asked them.

“We wanted it to be a surprise, and it looks like we succeeded,” Vox said, “I been working with Boomer for sometime now. Your big beast is an exceptional talent and a fine student. He asked me if I thought he was good enough to sing the bass solos, and I told him to try out for the part. I didn't pick him, a panel of your family picked him over a dozen men who tried out for the bass solos. There was no partiality. They sang behind screens so the judges couldn't see them. They unanimously picked your husband, Maestro. I worked Boomer pretty hard, Billy. He deserves a chance. You have my word as a friend and fellow musician, I assure you he's ready,” Vox said.

“Did you have a hand in this, Nick?” Billy asked and grinned.

Nick couldn't help laughing and was doubled over. “I was one of the judges along with six others of your family, and I swear to you, Kemosabe, in the name of some unknown god, Boomer was the best. He's very good. We even sat in on the final rehearsal Vox called last week, and he was flawless. We were just as stunned as you are. I laughed my ass off and gave old Boomer a big-old buckaroo kiss. Give your husband a chance, Son,” Nick said and grinned.

* * * * * * *
Billy got his act together and announced the final work they would be playing. He announced the names of the four soloist and didn't even flinch when he announced the bass soloist would be his Watcher Husband, Boomer Grigori Daniels. Billy turned back to his orchestra and chorus, kissed the palm of his hand, and blew it to Boomer. The giant beast moved his hand to catch it, and put it at his heart. It was unusual, but Billy was a veteran when it came to the unusual. Suddenly a wee voice came to him and told him to relax and enjoy making music. That's exactly what he did.

“Beethoven's Ninth? Jesus H. Christ! That's one of the most complicated symphonies to conduct,” said Vic Bodega, “I'll be root'n for him, but I got my doubts,” he added.

“Wanna' make a little bet, Captain?” Orin asked.

“No! You know something I don't. I'll admit you're a much better judge of character than I am, and I don't trust you,” Bodega replied.

“Smart man!” Orin said and laughed.

The chorus and soloist sat through the first half of the Symphony until the last movement. Billy motioned for his choir and soloist to stand and gave the down-beat for the final movement. When it came time for the bass solo to begin the choral part of the symphony, Boomer was right on and began to sing like a beastly angel. Everyone in the great auditorium damn near wet their pants. It was one of the finest voices Billy ever heard, and Boomer was milking it. He threw his huge chest out and sung the part like a professional. Billy was so stunned he almost dropped his baton. He wondered how many tits this performance would torque around the world with a Sasquatch singing Beethoven and doing an excellent job of it. Boomer's bass voice conjoined with the other Watchers singing in the back row. With the Sun Bears giving strength to the treble end of the chorus, the overall sound was magnificent – better than Billy ever imagined.

And so it continued until the very end. Billy couldn't remember ever hearing a better performance of Beethoven's Ninth. He was thrilled but exhausted as they brought it to a climax and ended the piece. There was only a brief moment of complete silence, then all Hell broke loose. Everyone was on their feet applauding, cheering, stomping their boots, cowboy hats thrown high, with people yelling and shouting “Bravo.” Billy motioned for his soloist to come to the front to take a bow and the audience went crazy. Boomer was mostly shy and retiring, but not that afternoon. He bowed and smiled at the audience. The afternoon was a great success and everyone felt wonderful

* * * * * * *
“Brilliant!” exclaimed Victory Bullet Bodega quietly, “Ain't no two ways about it, I have to become a part of this family,” he said.

“Would you be offended if I told you I done made up my mind before the concert,” Orin asked.

“No. I told you you're a better judge of character than I am. I'm as stubborn as an old Missouri mule and not near as smart,” Bodega said and hung his head.

“Maybe you ain't so dumb after all, Bull,” Orin said and smiled.

End of Chapter 96 ~ Seek Him What Made Them Seven Stars
Copyright ~ © ~ 2017 ~ Waddie Greywolf ~ All Rights Reserved
Mail to: Waddie Greywolf <[email protected]>
WC = 22, 030
01/15/2016
01/19/2017

* Mike Nichols and Elaine May: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbrlRNAFXz0&list=PLn-S26Qe3ZJHxety3NjS6PDOIwtTIqECi

* Herding Cats ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qWIPdEqSAI&list=PL0CAB9B1B237A6465

* Jonathan Dove ~ Seek Him Who Maketh The Seven Stars ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3GIkeJReYk

* Morten Lauridsen ~ Lux Aeterna ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmCBWGDXLf0

* Bach Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOZEj8wyj-I

* Bach Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 ~ (Be sure you watch the encore!) ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDB5Bi18iW8

* Bach Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLj_gMBqHX8

* Paul Hindemith ~ Kammermusik No. 5 for Viola and orchestra ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCM08gVszRM

* Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 1 ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iywUylWOZrU

* Beethoven Symphony No. 9 in D Minor (Choral) Opus 125 ~ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJQ32q2k8Uo