orangetoughguy | log post II

[Brown eyes zero in on the movement of his hands. It's a practiced ritual, both watching Freddy's hands move and cleaning his own guns. To see the two put together it has a rather unexpected result.]

More mellow these days. I think the boss is simmering down. Mighta been he got caught up in shit. Who the fuck knows. The less I know the better. [And the less likely they'll be that close of friends. Most recently learned lesson, you can be friends with your boss but never be best friends. It is bound to fuck everyone over.]

Smart man.

[Both Larry and the boss anyway. The gun's in pieces in a matter of moments, not too fast to be careless not too slow to be delicate. Now he actually starts cleaning the parts.]

There ain't nothin' wrong with nothin' goin' on. More time for you to stick around here.

[He won't dig into the chicken just yet, not when he's rubbing metal inside out.]

I got my moments.

[A shrug. His main focus is on how efficient each move is. Everything is set in a logical order.]

I don't mind stickin' around here. [Not when he knows who will be here. Damn those hands move so well.]

You learn this stuff on the job?

[He smiles, delivering a quip to the old man as if this is the kid's house.] Well I don't mind you stickin' around.

[At that Freddy has to give Larry a look. On the job? Of course he learned on the job, and he got better at it on the job too.] Yep. I shot as kid but nobody really showed me the ropes on how to work'em. I mean unless it was a rifle. I picked up a lot on that back up north.

[The old man reclines in the opposite direction, getting more comfortable.]

Rifle huh? [They're not so different in that respect.] What was the biggest thing you handled? [Guns. We're talking about guns.]

[Look Larry you went there first.]

Besides you?

[Okay with that out of the way...he's got the little pipecleaner-like thing to work the barrel.] I got to use my grandad's M1 once. I got my hands on an M14 too but it wasn't really mine to touch.

[These are off the force rifles of course, stuff he got to cock as a kid. On the force, that's a different story, and those guns are significantly bigger. He's sure Larry has to have an idea of what that kind of artillery entails, he's not so sure if it's okay to talk about...because of that lawman-lawlessman thing.]

You'll have to lemme know if you handle anything bigger than me.

[Lip like that doesn't help the line of thought he's attempting not to stray to deeply into. Even when the kid is in their living room.]

Oh yeah? You get to fire it? [The M14. He knows what the kid has and hasn't put his hands on other than that. And there is that issue looming in the room now. The way Ella is crooning, you'd almost think she knows and is lamenting. Fuck that though. Everything is fine right here. Fine as it can be.]

I'd ask you first if you think I can handle it before I even try handling it.

[Is this a word game now? Not really but it's true he wouldn't think about it without getting the old man involved first. As for the M14, well that was before Larry so he won't get too jealous will he? Fuck the looming issue for now.]

Oh yeah I got to fire it. Once. Then I ran like hell.

I think you could. But would you want to? Hell of a recoil. I mean, but if you asked... [It wasn't a word game, now it is.] I'd have to think about that.

You ran? So no body gave you permission, that what happened?

[His attention is divided between that face and his working hands.]

Maybe if you were watching, on the sidelines you know, keepin' an eye out for anything that crosses the line.

[Two can play at that game. He starts cleaning out the magazine.] Nope. Nothing happened, I never got caught.

[A boyish grin goes here.]

[Now if that doesn't make a man hard. Larry licks his bottom lip slowly and swallows. Good play there, kid.]

I'd have to approve of this son of a gun to begin with. But, I'd be acting referee. [Not chaperon.]

So you were a regular Dennis the Menace.

I'll think about it. [Freddy says with a nudge to Larry's knee.] Naw, I was way cooler than Dennis the Menace.

[That done, he starts oiling up the pieces, assuming Larry has some of that laying around too.]

Me too. [Nudge, nuuudge. He's sitting up a little more now.]

None of his schemes involved porn at Christmas time either.

[There is. He was ready to go at it the best he could with a tender paw. Great hands on that man.]

How's your hand doin'?

[Look he was going to ask eventually, you should've known, Lawrence Dimick.]

It's mostly my pointer. The thing can move, just has a tendency to smart more than it should.

[Which is about as close to it hurts as he's gonna get. Tough guy, you know.]

Better than yesterday.

So how much can you do with it now?

[There's a point to this, honestly. And it doesn't all have to do with just the guns. He's starting to put this one back together.]

[For a moment he's going to explain. But maybe it's best to show. He slowly unravels the tape. Pointer and middle, are held upright. The middle finger curls with the rest of them the middle flexes with strain, like it's pulling a trigger very, very lightly.]

Anyway. I've got another hand.

[Seeing it doesn't sober up the kid but he can't let that poor paw go by without a slight frown either.] You got three other hands.

[He corrects Larry. Click click. Shtick. Click. Cha-chik. He's putting that gun together with only darting glances. It's as if his hands are moving on their own.]

[Since the tape isn't entirely shot, Larry reuses it.] I do, don't I? You gonna be my spares? It's a tough job.

[Scoot, scoot closer. He knows how a gun is put together. He does it all the time. Still, the kid has skill and he's got such a clear mastery and authority over this piece of machinery.]

How tough? What do your hands do that mine don't?

[He's asking and he's asking with no shame or any reason to move away from Larry. In that case, the two of them are now much closer together, enough that Freddy can lean his shoulder against Larry's.]

[Whether the kid leans or not the old man feels over his chest, over the cotton material.] You really gotta ask that? My fingers can be in you and around you at once. Yours can do the other clutching. And now that I'm thinking about it, we're dismissing mouths. They're damn useful too.

[Is he still working at that second piece? He's still watching.]

[Nope, he hasn't started working on that second gun yet. There's another firearm in the midst the kid is thinking about now.]

Yeah I do. I mean you got a point about mouths. [First gun down, Freddy's wiping his hands and making no effort to move on to the second one.] Okay take your piece out.

[Ask him what he means, Mr. White. Orange dares you.]

[Not that the old man wants to be over eager but fuck.]

Your mouth isn't something to forget. [Whatever Freddy wants, Freddy gets. The old man unzips is pants.] This one, right?

[It's asking, just not the same.] It's clean already. But I'm sure it's about loaded.

[That's the one. He smiles with satisfaction.]

You talk like I need some kinda warning. I'm not a fuckin' kid you know.

[That smile goes sly in seconds as Freddy reaches over to stroke said piece.]

[Make that two smiles. Both paws come up to frame his face.]

It don't matter how experienced you are. Figured I'd let you know what you're in for.

[He softly sighs at the first stroke.]

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