Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2008 21:01:03 EST
From: Djedoric58@aol.com
Subject: THE ONLY WAY TO FLY CHAPTER 16

THE ONLY WAY TO FLY
By DJ

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Daley was beside himself when Billy told him about his mother's murder and
who her murderer was, and it fell to Trilby to phone the cops on Billy's
behalf. Daley just wandered around the place with his hands to his face
muttering "Oh My God!" to himself. He was no good to anyone in that state
and when his dad phoned, Trilby took the call. He listened, scribbled
something on a piece of paper, put the phone down and held out the paper to
Indian. The big man took it and glanced at what was written, looked at Rob,
and walked to the lounge door. Rob signalled to Todd and Digger, and they
followed him out of the room. No one said anything, but minutes later we
heard my 405 roar into life and speed away from the house.

The rest of us spent the day comforting Billy and Daley, supporting them
when the police came to talk to Billy and take statements from him and
Daley who had been Bill's lover at the time of the murder.

* *

Pete drove us back to the hospital the next day for our check ups, and the
doctor said that Billy's internal injury had healed well and he could go
back onto solid food. My spleen and kidneys were okay and I had no need of
further treatment, but Billy needed a visit to Christies for a head scan in
case the beating he had received had done any damage to the site of his
operation. The Doctor also took a look at his throat to make sure things
were okay there and congratulated him on getting his speech back. Before we
left, the doctor stared at both of us, frowned thoughtfully, and said,
"You're gay aren't you, Billy?" When Billy nodded he added, "Just be
careful for a while. Just because I've taken you off liquid food, doesn't
mean it's safe to resume your sex life in full. We had planned on
performing a colostomy if you hadn't stopped bleeding, a temporary one of
course, but necessary for your rectum and the lower part of your colon to
heal. So think yourself lucky, young man. We don't want you ending up with
a colostomy bag do we?"

I got Billy out of there as fast as I could before he hit someone,
especially that patronising doctor. What did the man think I was, a rutting
bull?

Billy was sore and he was angry. "I'm bloody sure he thinks it's fun
looking up my arse and shoving all those instruments and stuff up there,"
Billy fumed as we hobbled to the car. "I wouldn't have minded only I'm
still pretty bruised down there." I called Billy's doctor on my mobile and
explained the situation, and agreed to see us on our way back from the
hospital. Doctor Finchly took us into his examining room and asked the
nurse to wait outside while he had Billy strip his pants off and lie on his
side on the treatment couch. He asked Billy to bend his knees and move his
bum to the edge of the couch, and then gently drew Billy's briefs down. I
hadn't touched him since the attack, except to hold him while we slept, and
the only bruises I had seen were on his torso and limbs. The Doctor parted
his cheeks with gentle fingers and I was horrified when I saw the bruises
round his anus and on his lovely bubble butt cheeks. No wonder he was
sore. Finchly traced the edges of the bruising and placed a fist closed
against them; one of them had been aimed right at his hole. "The bastards!"
I heard him breathe, and watched him grab a camera out of a cupboard. We
counted eight separate fist shaped bruises and wished Indian had seen them
before he went to see Ken.

Billy craned his head round to stare at the Finchly with sightless
eyes. "Is it bad?"

"Too right, its bad. What were those hospital medics doing, discharging you
in this state? I know the bruises weren't too mature when they examined you
but they should have kept you in and monitored them. Someone slipped up
somewhere.  I ought to have you re-admitted."

"No way. I don't want any more poking and prodding. Just give me some cream
or something. I'll be okay." Finchly was surprised the hospital had not
given Billy anything except pain killers for his bruises, and gave me a
prescription for an anaesthetising cream for us both and told me to apply
it to his backside and elsewhere at least three times a day, which I was
more than happy to do. He also loaned Billy a ring cushion to sit on, with
a warning to get back to him if the bruises didn't begin to fade soon. As
an afterthought he said he would pay us a visit in a few days, then he
started taking pictures.

  At least we found some good news waiting for us when we got home. There
was an email from Indian. 'Mission accomplished. Team Wigwam heading home.'





They arrived back at the house sometime after eleven o'clock, Todd had a
black eye and Rob had a nose twice its normal size, but all of them were
smiling.

"Any problems?" Daley asked Indian.

The big guy gave us a rare grin. "Not really. We just went to the address
your dad gave us, knocked on the door and asked 'pretty please' if we could
go in. They said no but they meant yes, didn't they? We talked a bit, and
we persuaded them it would be best if Ken paid a visit to his local cop
shop."

"He didna want t' go at first," Rob said, "but the Indian showed him a few
techniques his tribe used' ta use on rowdy scallywags who wouldn't tow the
line.

 Todd chuckled. "Ken decided he would have better treatment at the police
station than staying with us any longer."

"What about the other two?" I asked.

"Och, they were no trouble at all, laddie," Rob replied, "Once they heard
what Ken had done to a tiny laddie and his mother, they soon decided Ken
was no friend of theirs, and they cooperated very well, especially after I
showed the two lump heads my prowess at caber tossing. I dinna think they
liked being used as cabers. Being tossed on your head disna do y'r brains
any good."

"So how come Todd's got a back eye?"

"Och, man, he was stupid enough te get in the way of Ken's fist when the
wee man tried to escape. Mind you, Ken ended up with two black eyes so it
was even, I think."

"And your nose?"

"Well, ye canna help getting a few bruises when ye dinna quite get the
throw right and the caber gets free, 'specially when its got steel
toecaps."

"Where is Ken now?"

 "Having supper with Peterbourgh police no doubt. Ken did his duty and
confessed to all his crimes. I was very proud of him."

We all went to bed laughing, and Billy was satisfied his mother was avenged
at last.

Billy felt he was ready to have a shower, and we helped each other
undress. With the water running comfortably hot, I washed him as gently as
I could while examining his bruises. We finished our showers and I helped
him get dry, wrapped him in a monster-sized towel and managed to carry him
to the bed. I finished drying myself and put on a robe, then fetched the
cream. I removed the towel and laid him on the bed on his stomach. I
squeezed some of the cream onto his back and he jumped. "Aaagh! That's
cold."

"Sorry, I should have warmed it on my hand first." I began to spread the
cream over his back, starting with his kidneys where the bruises were the
deepest.

I worked slowly with feather-light touches, and Billy groaned with
pleasure. "I knew your fingers would work their magic. That feels great!"

"It's more likely the anaesthetic in the cream."

"Plus your fingers."

I worked up his back and across his shoulders, hoping the doctor had given
me enough cream for the job in hand, but it seemed to spread far enough
once it was warm. I left his arms alone for the moment and moved to his
bum. I had to be so careful here, with him being so tender. I put some
cream on my right index finger and ran it slowly down his crack. I felt him
stiffen. "Easy, Babe. I'll be as careful as I can." I had an idea. I
grabbed a pillow and helped him put it under his hips. "Now, spread your
legs, Babe. Pretend you're going to receive a nice present." Billy laughed
at this but did as I asked. With his legs spread and his butt open to me, I
applied the cream to all the bruises. I even managed to get to his hole and
pushed in a little.

"Oh, man! That feels so good," he groaned. "I could do with this more than
three times a day."

"That's only the minimum."

"Right on!"

I leaned forward to kiss his back. "You have such a lovely bum, Babe. I
could do this all night."

"Me too, but I guess I'm bushed. Let me know when I can treat your
bruises. It should be fun."

	"Not so fast, Romeo. Let's do your front."

"Spoilsport." Billy rolled over and I treated his torso and limbs with the
cream then handed the tube over. I helped him kneel and I lay close to him,
on my stomach with my hips on the pillow. He reached out to find my kidneys
and proceeded to apply the cream. It had a wonderful numbing effect and the
superficial pain faded to a bearable ache. Billy was very good at the old
massage business and I wondered how much he had learned from his father. We
were soon finished and lay down under the duvet. We cuddle close and
enjoyed long, loving kisses, then I tuned him over and drew him back
against me. As I started to drift off, I heard him ask, "Do you think Daley
would let me sing with the band?"

"Sing? Why?"

"I've always wanted to be a singer. Not as much as playing the drums, but I
know all the songs by heart. I've listened to them often enough."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Yeah, I might." Billy yawned, shifted a little to make himself
comfortable, and relaxed. That cream was more than an anaesthetic; it put
us to sleep as well.



The next few days were spent nursing our bruises and dealing with the
police who seemed to be at the house every day with endless questions or to
take some statement or other. The band got back to rehearsals, their next
gig looming up in a few days, and Daley wondered what was going to happen
about the smashed drum kit. He didn't want Billy to be without one and
offered to give Bill's drum kit back, but Billy solved the problem by
asking me to help him browse the internet for a replica kit. He had the
money to buy one so why not? When it arrived he gave Bill's kit to Daley as
a gift. Daley was in tears.

We set up the knew kit in the barn and Billy resumed his drumming sessions,
but with the added bonus of a good voice. On that same day he received word
that he had been accepted as a recipient of a guide dog. That meant him
being away from home for a month while he trained with the dog. The centre
was in Bolton so it was easy for me to visit, but he didn't want me to. He
wanted to be independent and show he could cope on his own. It wasn't as if
he was no going to be cared for. I gave in with good grace but had no
fingernails left by the time he came home.

I drove to Bolton to pick him up, and was astonished at the change in
him. His face had healed; his hair was a neat close cut cap, and his
sightless eyes shone out of a face alight with life. He said goodbye to his
trainers and took hold of the harness of a beautiful Labrador
retriever. Walking up to me he put his hand up to touch my face. We clasped
hands and he said, "Hi, Mags. Meet Sheba. Here, Sheba, meet Mags." We got
home in time to bid the band a fond fairwell with a promise to keep in
touch. Once they were out of sight down the lane, and Sheba had been seen
to and was resting contentedly in one of any baskets we had bought, Billy
and I made for the stairs. We emerged from the bedroom two hours later,
tired but happy, and went to make some tea. What pleased me most during
this 'welcome home' session of loving sex was that I could hear Billy as he
moaned an groaned under me and made know, vocally how much he wanted me to
be rough with him, and ram him hard. Once the dishes were washed and put
away, we took Sheba for her evening walk, and went back to bed, and the
harder I fucked him while I explored new positions and holds, the better he
liked it.



I must say I admired Billy for his determination to get back to school and
gain those all-important GCSEs. With the help of Mr. Stevens and his
teaching staff, Billy sailed through his schoolwork and by the time the
exams came round he was confident he would get at least B's in most
subjects. Now he was fully recovered from his op and the attack, he started
hanging out with his schoolmates, who thought him a real cool dude in his
black gear and sunglasses. He worried that I would feel left out, but I
insisted it was good for him to get back into normal life and to do what
his mates did. At least I had him to myself when he was at home. His mates
got used to him having Sheba with him and they treated him no different to
themselves, even when they found out he was gay and that I was his
lover. This would never have happened when I was a kid, and it showed how
times have changed.

The exams came, and Billy came up against his first problem. He couldn't
very well sit in the examination room and dictate the answers to the
questions aloud in case the other pupils used his answers to their own
advantage. Mr. Stevens solved that problems by having a young teaching
student sit in an empty classroom with him. The student asked the
questions, Billy gave oral answers which the student entered into a file on
a computer. The file was printed out and used as his exam paper and handed
in to Mr. Stevens. All we had to do then was wait for the
results. Meanwhile we had the summer holidays ahead of us, and Billy was
getting restless. He hung onto every phone call we had from Daley, and I
knew he was missing the guys. By August he had slipped into a gloomy mood,
often going for walks around the farm with Sheba and just sitting down
under a tree and staring into space.

One day, Billy was out with Sheba when I got my weekly call from
Daley. After the usual pleasantries I asked him how the tour was
going. "Well, not as good as other have been in the past. We're not getting
the same response any more. The boys and I had a pow-wow the other night
and we agree we need to inject some younger blood into the band to give
ourselves a more modern sound. But getting the younger talent to join us is
getting to be a problem. Kids don't want to tour with a cover band, they
want to join boy-bands and rock groups. Even Pete has said he wants to do
something different. He'll be leaving for college in September in any case,
and I won't be sorry to see him leave. Since he's been out, he's shown
himself to be anybody's, and the band is starting to feel uncomfortable
with him. He's even made a pass at Indian and got his butt chewed off."

"How's he doing on the drums?"

"He hasn't the aggression that Billy has, and has a lighter stroke. He's
more suited to a small band or a three man group, and he admits it."

 "So, what are you going to do meanwhile?"

"I don't know. Carry on until we don't have the audiences, I suppose. The
trouble is, it's getting to the band, and to our sponsors. It isn't nice
when you set up at a festival and see your audience move away to watch some
other band. I honestly don't know how long I can keep the band together,
Mags. Am I getting old, or the audiences getting younger? Indian's been
talking about visiting his folks in the USA and it might end up with just
Trilby and me again. The boys haven't said it out loud but what happened to
Billy took a lot out of their sails."

After Daley rang off I went to find Billy, an idea springing into my grey
matter. I found him and Sheba playing with a Frisbee in the field at the
back of the house. When I suggested we go for a touring holiday he shrugged
his shoulders.

"Where to?"

"Anywhere. Just get in the 405 and drive?"

While Billy went to pack a bag, I phoned Daley back. We packed the car,
settled Sheba on the back seat, locked the house up and drove away. I used
the minor roads, and we drove though picturesque villages, had our meals in
country pubs, drank real beer, and had a wonderful, leisurely journey
south. As we went, I described the places we passed with as much detail as
I could so that Billy could enjoy the journey as well. But I didn't tell
him the names of the towns we passed through, as I didn't want him to guess
where were going till we got there. He didn't twig till we were on the
approach road to the festival ground and he heard the distant music. It
grew louder as we neared the car park, and Billy's smile got wider.

"You, fraud, you planned this didn't you?"

"Yup." I parked the car and helped him gee Sheba out of the rear seat, then
I made him get into the back of the car and change into his black gear,
complete with studded belt, wrist bands and dark glasses. Once I had
retrieved my tenor and soprano saxes from the boot, we headed for the
festival arena. It was an open-air affair with several sites round the
edges where bands shared the stages and facilities. Sheba was like an 'open
sesame' for us, with people moving aside to let us through the crowds. I
guided Billy to where Daley said the band would be, and we found them ready
to go on stage. They welcomed Billy with bone crushing hugs and a few good
smackers. I was treated with equal enthusiasm but Billy was special to them
and I knew it. I noticed that the boys had dragged the drum kit up front
and to the left so that whoever played them would be in full view of the
audience. Before we went on stage, Daley drew me to one side and said, "You
see that guy in the white bomber jacket?" He pointed to a man standing a
few yards away, using a mobile phone.

"What about him?"

"He's what used to be called a talent scout. His name is John Barraclough,
and I've known him for years. He's on the hunt for new talent and I've told
him about Billy. Who knows, with help from John our budding star could
become a big name. What do you think?" I was lost for words. I didn't want
to lose Billy to other influences. Daley guessed what I was thinking and
said, "If Billy wants to reach for fame, who are we to stand in his way? I
think we have another Gene Kruper here, and I'd hate to be the one
responsible for him not getting the break he deserves."

"I don't know, Daley," I said with a shake of my head. "What would happen
to me?"

"You'd go with him, of course. You're his carer as well as his partner."

"And the band?"

 "Maybe we could change the band's name and become his backing group. I'd
like to see him guest with other bands too. Wouldn't you."



When we were announced, there was muted applause from the audience, some
people even moved away to other sites. Daley winked at me. "They'll be
back. They just need a wake up call, and I think we have that now."

The boys helped me get Billy and my instruments onto the stage and Rob led
him and Sheba to the drums. Giving him a loving slap on the backside, the
Scotsman said, "You've got the stage, Laddie, so get drummin'. Wake us all
up, never mind just those out there. We're startin' with 'The Bitch Is
Back' and 'Crocodile Rock', and you're singin' the ditties."

Once I had my sax out and ready to blow, Daley gave the count down and
Billy let fly, grinning and bopping on his stool and singing into a mike
the boys had placed above the drums, with Pete happy to join him on the
other percussion instruments. As we played those two opening numbers, I
noticed the crowd out front swelling as people gravitated towards the new
sound. By the time we finished our third number, 'Flip, Flop and Fly' our
share of the ground was packed, and they cheered fit to burst our eardrums,
and Daley had to plead for silence so he could make his carefully prepared
announcement.

"Thank you, folks. We're all glad to be back here in one of the best
festivals ever in the south of England. For those of you who remember us
from a few years back, you will notice that, my dear friend, Bill D'Marco
our drummer, is sadly no longer with us, having passed away earlier this
year. But now we would like to introduce you to our new drummer, his
sixteen-year-old son, Billy Junior."

The audience went crazy and we had to make Billy to stand and take the
applause. Once the cheering died down, we let him let rip with some of his
favourite numbers, with our spot ending with one of Queen's best loved
numbers, which I thought was appropriate for Billy to sing, "Don't stop me
now, I'm having a good time....."

As I watched him, looking so sexy, and in line for a life as a top line
professional drummer, I dearly hoped he would never stop, and our love
would never end. I didn't want it to end, ever.



* * * *

That's it folks, the end of the story. Hopefully there'll be further
adventures of Mags.



My thanks to nifty for accepting it and thanks to you all for reading it
and keeping in touch.