The
Shaman's Revenge Part 14
Jordan meets the
Cody Brothers
As
Jordan got closer to the buildings he had spotted in the distance,
his heart began to sink. From what he could see this was no
picturesque country farmhouse with roses round the door or a white
picket fence, and the chances of it being inhabited by a friendly
plump farmer and his wife, who would feed him pumpkin pie and lend
him their eldest son's grown out of jeans were diminishing with each
step he took.
The
buildings appeared somewhat dilapidated and in poor repair, in fact
were it not for the half dozen or so scrawny looking chickens pecking
at seed corn in the yard and a rather ragged carpet, hanging on a
line, he might have concluded that the property was unoccupied.
Whoever did live in the ranch was obviously not house proud, and
Jordan's instincts told him he was unlikely to receive a friendly
welcome.
He
decided that instead of seeking out the homeowner and asking for
help, he would merely see if there was any food or clothing he could
steal before continuing on his way.
Moving
as quietly as he could, he crept up to the old ranch house. He
sprinted quickly up to a small sash window and peered into what
appeared to be a bedroom with an unmade cot, and, he was pleased to
note, a pile of discarded clothes in the corner. In the past he would
have disdained the idea of wearing someone else's discarded clothes,
but he was now in no position to be choosy. At least he could cover
his nakedness and then maybe find his way to the kitchen and some
food.
He
attempted to prize open the window, but it clearly had not been
opened for years, and was sealed shut. He considered breaking the
glass, but decided the noise would alert whoever lived in the farm of
his presence.
In
the hope of finding an easier window, he tiptoed round the side of
the house, and, for once, his luck was in, as one of the windows had
been left open, he hurried up to it and cautiously looked in to what
appeared to be a very old fashioned and run down kitchen with a
kitchen table, covered with 1950's style plastic with a large
kerosene lamp in the middle. Against the wall was large Iron stove,
reminiscent to something one might see in a frontier type movie.
However, of most interest to Jordan was a tiny walk in cupboard at
the side of the room, which appeared to me a larder.
At
the very thought of a larder his stomach began to rumble with hunger.
It was now almost 24 hours since he had last eaten, a for a boy who
was accustom to three meals and a few snacks a day, this was all but
starvation. Jordan loved food, to the point of over indulgence, and
it was only his healthy metabolism and active lifestyle which kept
his handsome body in it's sleek athletic state.
Much
as he needed clothes, his stomach needed food even more, so his first
priority lay in whatever was in the larder. After taking a swift
look around to ensure he was still unobserved, Jordan quickly
clambered through the open window into the kitchen. Whilst ensuring
he made as little sound as possible, he hurried over to the larder
and looked inside.
The
content of the larder was rather disappointing, given the marked lack
of candy, cheeseburgers or hot dogs. However, there was bread, oil
and there was also a bowl containing about a dozen eggs and a small
jug of milk.
They
would have to do.
Of
course he couldn't eat raw eggs, so he carried the bowl across to the
old iron stove. He noted with relief that it was still alight, and
it only took a little poking and some extra kindling to get it
flaming and heating up the stone ring on the top.
He
then poured some oil into a heave based frying pan, which he placed
on the ring to heat up, before cracking most of the eggs and tipping
the contents into the pan and stirring it together to make
rudimentary scrambled eggs.
The
eggs were ready in minutes, and once they were, Jordan quickly
scraped them onto a plate, before carelessly discarding the pan onto
the side of the stove. Then, still naked, he sat down at the table
and hungrily devoured the eggs and bread, whilst drinking milk
straight from the jug.
Jordan
was so occupied in consuming his first meal in a day, he failed to
hear the door behind him opening, or the sound of stealthy footfall
creeping towards him.
The
spidery sense that there was someone behind him finally hit Jordan
just too late to save him, as a large, leathery, sun tanned hand
landed in his shoulder and a loud voice with a distinct Country ca
dance snarled in his ear “How dare you sneak in butt nekid' and
steal from our larder you thievin' Varmit!?”
Jordan
leaped to his feet and spun round to find a huge mountain of a man,
bulging with muscles and shaggy black hair, on both his head and
chest, looming over him with an unmistakably hostile and menacing
expression on his face. Then a second man, equally muscular, but
with a bristling light brown beard entered the room.
Floyd
and Billy Bob Cody, together with their younger brother Seth, had
lived in their remote ranch house for most of their lives, ever since
their papa was locked away in the county prison for killing a man in
a bar fight and their mother had abandoned them after taking up with
a tractor salesman from North Dakota. The Cody boys had been looked
after by their grandmother, Ernestine Clutterbuck, until she, sadly
expiredd from an excess on sweet potato moonshine and chewing
tobacco.
Living
mostly alone, with only the acquaintance of a few nearby ranchers,
the Cody brother had little experience of city folk, but both could
spot a pretty city boy when they saw one, and Jordan was an
unconscionably pretty boy. Both men felt a stirring in their groins,
which they didn't fully comprehend.
“My
.. my clothes were stolen .. and I...I was hungry!” stammered
Jordan, keenly aware that he was in a very dangerous predicament.
Unfortunately, his explanation didn't help
“So!”
hissed Floyd, holding his face so close to Jordan's that the latter
could feel the spit on his face “Just 'cos, someone stole from you,
you thought you could then rob us blind did you boy?!” his lip
curled into a cruel shape “You need a good whopping youngun' and
you're gonna' get one” with that he snatched the, still smoking,
pan which Jordan had used to cook the eggs, from the stove! “This'll
do just fine!”
Click
on the Read More tab below to continue
