came across and covered my manhood while reaching over Rillie for the door.
The wind was … let’s say … brisk , when the door opened. My little ball-player had forgotten all about the game and dove for the dugout.
Uncomfortable on a number of levels, I climbed over Rillie and stepped outside with only the clothing I’d grabbed to cover my crotch.
Specks had fallen and was on the ground trying to get up. He was probably suffering from hypothermia, and possibly shock, as well as frost bite.
I opened the back door of the helo and helped him in. Man , was my ass cold. I’m telling you; you don’t really know what cold is until you’ve had seventy-mile-per-hour, ten-degree wind whistling between your butt cheeks. As they say in the Windy City when the icy wind howls; The Hawk is out tonight!
“We’re here to rescue you, Specks.”
The man took several panting breaths, while lifting thick-lensed eye-glasses out of his pocket and putting them in place. They bugged his eyes. He looked me up and down, still too out of breath for words, but his eyes rested on my makeshift loincloth.
I looked down and realized I’d grabbed Rillie’s bra to cover with.
“Sorry … to … interrupt,” he said, and his glasses frosted over in the next second.
Wanting to thaw the frost off my own snowballs, I closed the back compartment door, then returned to the front copilot’s side of the chopper and climbed over Rillie. She didn’t even try to suppress her amusement. I handed back her bra, and she got handsy with me while I straddled her to get to the pilot’s seat. At least her hands were a lot warmer than my half-frozen and nearly ingrown middle member.
Rillie turned in her seat to look through the open bulkhead behind us into the back passenger compartment. “You okay, Specks?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Now . But I’d rather you don’t let him come back here anymore.” He wiped his glasses. “When I saw this helli -copter, I thought I was dreaming, though. Then, I was sure it was a damn nightmare when your nudist pilot leaps out at me with a bra over his privates.”
I fired up the helicopter, flipped on the electric heaters and passed the heat reflecting blanket back to him. “How are your hands and feet? Can you take off your gloves and boots?”
“Yeah. I think I can. But that’s as far as I’m going!” He frowned. Then he said, “Been camped out in the last loco. The heater worked up until a couple of hours ago before it died. Don’t think I got none of that frost bite.” He frowned at me again. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m E Z Knight, Specks. Where’s my father?”
“E Z Knight? Are you Ethan?”
I’d forgotten that my father was the only on e who still called me by my given first name. My dad insisted on it. He said he hadn’t considered people might call me E Z when he and my mother came up with Ethan Zachariah, using both my grandfathers’ first names.
“Yes,” I told Specks. “I’m Ethan. Remember me? Used to ride the local out of Newton with you and my dad.” I smiled at him. “Where’s Doc?”
He took off his glasses and cleaned them again, then wiped his eyes. As he explained Rillie and I got dressed. “Hell if I know. He’d been actin’ funny ever since he got a phone call and we went into dark territory. Don’t have a clue of what the call was about. Then, yesterday morning, we was coming down the Mule Train spur toward Gold Miner’s Bend at the main line, and he spotted the local. Started getting’ real mad and saying we had to stop it. Next thing you know, he ordered me to jump from the snow-blower going fifty miles an hour. Jumped into the blizzard, I did. Dislocated my shoulder, twisted my ankle — lucky I wasn’t killed. Damn fool, Doc. Threatened me with a ball-peen hammer, then had to be some kind of hero and ram the local train.” He looked at me. “I got down here as quick as I could after the explosion, but I wasn’t moving too fast in the deep snow,
The wind was … let’s say … brisk , when the door opened. My little ball-player had forgotten all about the game and dove for the dugout.
Uncomfortable on a number of levels, I climbed over Rillie and stepped outside with only the clothing I’d grabbed to cover my crotch.
Specks had fallen and was on the ground trying to get up. He was probably suffering from hypothermia, and possibly shock, as well as frost bite.
I opened the back door of the helo and helped him in. Man , was my ass cold. I’m telling you; you don’t really know what cold is until you’ve had seventy-mile-per-hour, ten-degree wind whistling between your butt cheeks. As they say in the Windy City when the icy wind howls; The Hawk is out tonight!
“We’re here to rescue you, Specks.”
The man took several panting breaths, while lifting thick-lensed eye-glasses out of his pocket and putting them in place. They bugged his eyes. He looked me up and down, still too out of breath for words, but his eyes rested on my makeshift loincloth.
I looked down and realized I’d grabbed Rillie’s bra to cover with.
“Sorry … to … interrupt,” he said, and his glasses frosted over in the next second.
Wanting to thaw the frost off my own snowballs, I closed the back compartment door, then returned to the front copilot’s side of the chopper and climbed over Rillie. She didn’t even try to suppress her amusement. I handed back her bra, and she got handsy with me while I straddled her to get to the pilot’s seat. At least her hands were a lot warmer than my half-frozen and nearly ingrown middle member.
Rillie turned in her seat to look through the open bulkhead behind us into the back passenger compartment. “You okay, Specks?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Now . But I’d rather you don’t let him come back here anymore.” He wiped his glasses. “When I saw this helli -copter, I thought I was dreaming, though. Then, I was sure it was a damn nightmare when your nudist pilot leaps out at me with a bra over his privates.”
I fired up the helicopter, flipped on the electric heaters and passed the heat reflecting blanket back to him. “How are your hands and feet? Can you take off your gloves and boots?”
“Yeah. I think I can. But that’s as far as I’m going!” He frowned. Then he said, “Been camped out in the last loco. The heater worked up until a couple of hours ago before it died. Don’t think I got none of that frost bite.” He frowned at me again. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m E Z Knight, Specks. Where’s my father?”
“E Z Knight? Are you Ethan?”
I’d forgotten that my father was the only on e who still called me by my given first name. My dad insisted on it. He said he hadn’t considered people might call me E Z when he and my mother came up with Ethan Zachariah, using both my grandfathers’ first names.
“Yes,” I told Specks. “I’m Ethan. Remember me? Used to ride the local out of Newton with you and my dad.” I smiled at him. “Where’s Doc?”
He took off his glasses and cleaned them again, then wiped his eyes. As he explained Rillie and I got dressed. “Hell if I know. He’d been actin’ funny ever since he got a phone call and we went into dark territory. Don’t have a clue of what the call was about. Then, yesterday morning, we was coming down the Mule Train spur toward Gold Miner’s Bend at the main line, and he spotted the local. Started getting’ real mad and saying we had to stop it. Next thing you know, he ordered me to jump from the snow-blower going fifty miles an hour. Jumped into the blizzard, I did. Dislocated my shoulder, twisted my ankle — lucky I wasn’t killed. Damn fool, Doc. Threatened me with a ball-peen hammer, then had to be some kind of hero and ram the local train.” He looked at me. “I got down here as quick as I could after the explosion, but I wasn’t moving too fast in the deep snow,
Similar Books
