LLP-239 Kappy (Son Of Kaptain) Volume One by John Reskind


Chapter I


Jean Wilson could not rid herself of the feeling that they were being 
unduly persecuted. She studied her young husband of five weeks who 
stood on the opposite side of the bed watching as he removed his shirt 
and trousers to reveal his lanky frame, a tender emotion of deep 
affection filling her. They had done nothing ... absolutely nothing, 
she reasoned incredulously as she unzipped and stepped out of the 
maid's black, petite uniform that the Keeles insisted she wear. Yet, 
there they were, serving a ridiculous probationary period, and all 
because of a miserably decrepit judge ...

"It could be worse, Honey," her husband spoke assuagely, interrupting 
her thoughts, the warm smile brightening his sharp-angled, boyish 
features meant to lessen the oppression that had been with her since 
Judge McGraw had sentenced them earlier that day. "So, we didn't know 
anything about the damned grass Nick had ... they could still have 
thrown the book at us. Ignorance is no excuse, you know ... and I'm 
thinking that if it hadn't been for Chief Lannigan and Max Keele ... 
well, we'd both be taking a nice hike ..."

"But how could we know Nick had marijuana on him? My God, we had just 
met them not an hour before ... then, like a pair of idiots we had to 
go along to their party," the seventeen-year-old, honey-haired girl 
reflected lamentably, her wide and innocent green eyes puddling with 
tears as they had time and again throughout the ordeal of the past ten 
hours.

"I know ... I know, Baby," Ken Wilson conceded, sensing the lump rising 
in his own throat at the little tears trickling down her angelic face. 
He stood awkwardly running his hands through his own long, chestnut 
hair, his shorts alone covering his nakedness.

Damn, what a fine beginning he'd gotten them off to! Married five 
weeks, eloping the way they had against her parents' wishes, and now 
this mess. Her father'd been right ... he'd never amount to a "row of 
ashcans" ... college dropout, vagabond ... a worthless bastard at 
twenty, that's what he was. Hell, he'd had no right marrying her and 
he'd known it from the start, but he hadn't been able to help himself 
... he'd loved her from the first moment that day he'd seen her on the 
beach, reminding him of a golden Venus in her tiny white bikini ... 
just as she did at that very second, her wispy nylon panties and 
abundantly filled bra enhancing the curvaceous loveliness of her 
golden-tanned, satiny-skinned body.

"... If only we'd never met them, none of this would've happened," Jean 
persisted, unable to shake her dejection as she turned and walked to 
the vanity for a facial tissue.


End of Page 1. See llp-239.txt for full story.