Gentle Voices

It's been awhile since I posted a story. Life at my age throws you some curves that take time to straighten out. Now that those issues have been resolved, I hope to continue writing and posting.

I apologize in advance because the story starts out on a real downer note and takes a while to get going, so please stay with it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks. Creekman

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He sat there on the log staring at what used to be his home. The firemen had left, the ambulances carrying the bodies had left, but the smoke still floated lazily into the evening sky. His wife, daughters, son-in-laws, grandkids, all dead, killed by the explosion and fire. A Red Cross worker put a blanket around his shoulders and gently talked him into leaving and going to a friend's house. If he hadn't stepped out of the house when he did, he would be with them. Now he was alone. He cussed God and thought it should have been him. They should be looking to a bright future, instead, he was looking to a bleak future, alone, and oh God, so empty, so terribly empty.

His friends gathered around him, tried to get him to eat something or have a drink. He rejected it all. His lifeless eyes stared into nothing. Somehow he got through all the funerals and services. His friends and neighbors made sure he was never alone, that someone was always with him or very near him. He hardly spoke, didn't laugh any more, just sat and stared.

Mike, or Big Mike as his friends called him was a gentle giant. At 55 he was still six feet four inches tall, lean at 230 pounds, huge strong, scarred, calloused hands that made a basketball look like a soft ball. He had laughed easily and had a way with young kids, especially young girls who told him all their secrets. He had worked his whole life and had never found anything he couldn't fix. He loved working with his hands, especially making things from wood. All the furniture in the house he had made, the kitchen cabinets, island, stools, and all the special trim. When he wasn't working with his hands, he liked to trout fish and make music. Now, it all was gone, including the tools he had used to make and fix everything. Now he couldn't fix his home and bring everyone back. The pain was unbearable.

Sometimes one of the neighbor kids would come up to him as he sat on the log and he didn't even look at them. Soon they stopped coming.

Over the next six months he somehow dealt with the lawyers, insurance adjusters, contractors that cleared up the debris from the fire, and the realtors that listed and sold the property. The grief counseling continued. When everything was done, he convinced the neighbor he had been staying with that it was time for him to move on. He bought a used truck, put a cap on the back, bought a pair of waders and a fly rod. He said he was headed west, didn't know where and didn't especially care.

The next morning, the neighbor got up and Mike was gone. Mike was on the highway headed west. He couldn't tell you where he was, but he kept the compass in the truck headed west. When it got dark he found a cheap motel for the night. In the room, he laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling and as he listened to the screams, the demons would come. He closed his eyes tight and covered his ears, but the screams and demons were still there. He couldn't make them go away. At sun up, they seemed to fade away and he drove another 500 miles west. Then it would get dark, another motel room and they would return more frightening and screaming louder. Somewhere in all the din in his mind was a gentle voice urging him not to quit, that everything would be all right. It sounded like his wife's voice, but in his state he didn't know. He thought he was going crazy and probably deserved it. The next day, another 500 miles. When he slept, it was fitful, and not very restful. He ate one small meal a day and drank only coffee or water. He was losing weight, but he held onto that small gentle voice the way a drowning man clings to a life preserver.

In West Yellowstone, MT, he met an old friend that he used to fish with. The guy took one look at Mike and knew right away that something terrible had happened. He got Mike to tell him a very abbreviated version of the events. While telling the brief story, he never shed a tear, nor did his voice break. His dead eyes just stared into the distance. They spent a week fishing together. The friend got Mike to eat a steak and have a drink. Mike seemed to get a little bit like his old self, although, he still didn't laugh nor was there any spark or glint in his eyes. When asked what next, Mike just said I'm headed west.

The next morning found Mike in the truck headed west. Another 500 miles, another cheap motel, the demons and screams still with him, as was that gentle voice he so desperately clung to. The second day, he ran out of road. In front of him was the Pacific Ocean. He thought that maybe he would just continue driving till the water took his breath away and he could join his family again. The gentle voice in his head screamed NO! So he didn't. He found a cheap motel, took a room for a week and spent time walking the beach, each day contemplating just walking into the water and swimming away. Each time the gentle voice in his head screamed NO!

Mike found a realtor and said he wanted a small 2 bedroom house that needs fixing up. A few weeks later he had a house. He bought a bed, mattress, and a chair. He also bought a bottle of whiskey. That night, he poured himself a half glass of whiskey and sat in the chair studying how he wanted to fix the house. In the morning, he was still in the chair and the bottle was half empty, but the demons and screaming didn't seem so terrifying or loud. This became the new norm. Not much work got done on the house during the next six months, but the whiskey was starting to keep the demons and screaming at a tolerable level.

One night as he sat in his chair drinking another glass of whiskey, that gentle voice started talking. It was telling him that tomorrow, he was going to go buy some tools and start working on the house. You're going to take that wall down, put in new floors, windows, redo the bathrooms and the kitchen, and cut back on the whiskey. The voice said she would take care of the demons and the screams. The next morning, Mike was still in the chair, the glass of whiskey was still half full and the bottle was mostly full.

After buying hammers, saws, drills, chop saws, screwdrivers and other tools he began tearing out the wall that the voice had told him too. Inside, he found a host of problems. The house had 1920's plumbing, wiring and duct work. He went to the basement and took a closer look at the water heater, the furnace and the foundation. The foundation was the only good thing down there. He went outside and looked at the roof and discovered it would need replacing as well. The whole house was going to require everything new. He asked himself why the hell did I buy this place? He didn't know what else to do, so he went to work to fix the house. At least he knew how to do that and maybe it would drive the demons and screaming away.

Slowly the worked progressed. He decided not to do the plumbing, wiring and HVAC himself so hired it done. The same with the roof. After all, he wasn't getting any younger.

It had been almost two years since the explosion and fire, and the demons and screaming were still with him, but not all night, every night. Some nights he got thru without them.

Progress continued on the house. He replaced all the windows, insulated the walls, put up sheet rock, and refinished the floors. He also built new kitchen cabinets. After three months of work, the house was ready for painting. He didn't know much about colors, but the gentle voice helped him pick out colors. He had taken to talking to the gentle voice as if it were his wife. People would look at him as if he were crazy because he talked to that voice almost all day. That and the empty look in his eyes made people avoid him.

After painting the outside of the house, he was sitting on the front steps taking a break when a couple stopped and admired the house and said what an improvement to the neighborhood. Mike just looked at them and they hurried away from the crazy man.

It was time for the kitchen counters to be installed. Mike was sitting on the front steps waiting for the truck to come. As he sat there, a woman about his age stopped and admired the house. She made a comment to Mike, but Mike just stared at her and said nothing. Suddenly, the woman said Mike? Big Mike?? And ran up the walk to Mike. She told Mike she had heard the news about his family and how terribly sorry she was for him. She gave him a hug. Mike didn't seem to know who she was. She had auburn hair streaked with gray, was about 5 feet, two inches, but he couldn't remember her. Finally she told him her name was Caitlyn and that she had been a bride's maid in Mike's and Beth's wedding all those years ago. Mike turned and slowly some recognition came to him. She talked with him for about 20 minutes when the counter tops arrived. As she was leaving, she explained that she and her husband Bob lived about 6 blocks away and why didn't he come to Sunday dinner. She was cooking pot roast and mashed potatoes.

That night as he sat remembering his and Beth's wedding, the screams and demons came back and so did the whiskey. The gentle voice screamed, NO, NOT AGAIN!

Sunday, Mike walked the 6 blocks to Bob and Caitlyn's home for Sunday dinner. Bob and Caitlyn tried to engaged Mike in conversation, but he just sat, picked at his dinner and soon left. The next week, Caitlyn stopped by Mike's a couple of times to check on him. Usually, he was in his shop fiddling with something or other, but not really doing much. He just seemed to be filling his time during the day. He continued to go to Bob and Caitlyn's house for Sunday dinner, but most weeks were the same as the first time. He picked at his food and then left.

Caitlyn took to doing Mike's grocery shopping for him when she did hers. He didn't need much and he hated shopping so he was thankful for the help. Three months later, she stopped to drop off his groceries and they had a brief conversation about Sundays dinner. Ten minutes after she left, Mike's phone rang. It was Caitlyn asking him to hurry over. She had found Bob on the floor and had called 911 but she needed help. Mike got to her house as quickly as he could. The EMT's and ambulance were already there. Caitlyn was crying and shaking and held on to Mike as they watched the EMTs work on Bob.

The body and the ambulances were almost too much for Mike. He seemed to get even emptier but somehow he helped Caitlyn get through the ordeal at the emergency room and the realization that Bob had died. After taking Caitlyn home, he went to his house, sat in his chair with a glass of whiskey and the demons and screaming returned. He listened for his wife's voice but couldn't hear it. The next morning the whiskey bottle was empty.

He helped Caitlyn through the services and funeral, although, her family were all there and provided more support than Mike did. Later, back at her house, with all the family there, he quietly left and walked home. Another bottle of whiskey disappeared.

A few days later, Caitlyn showed up at Mike's. As they sat on the front steps, she took his hand and began to cry as she told Mike about her and Bob. After an hour of tears and sobs, she gave him a hug, said thanks for listening, admitted to feeling better and left.

Mike continued to visit Caitlyn for Sunday dinner. Sometimes he stayed a little longer and other times he left as soon as he could. Caitlyn became more worried about Mike, he continued to lose weight, he looked gaunt and thin and still did not say much. She suspected he needed to talk about the explosion and fire and get it out of his system, but no matter what she tried, he just stared into space and said nothing.

November came and with it, Thanksgiving. Caitlyn was having her entire family over for dinner and invited Mike. He was reluctant because of all the people, but she was insistent and his wife's voice said he should go. On Thanksgiving day, all of Caitlyn's children, grand children and a great grand child were there. Mike couldn't remember everyones name, but he did remember the great grand daughters name. It was Mary, the same as his oldest daughter. Before dinner, Mary was put down for her nap, but during dinner she began to cry. To everyones surprise, Mike stood and said he would look in on her. Soon, Mary was quiet but Mike hadn't returned to dinner. After dinner, Caitlyn went upstairs to the babies room to check on Mary and Mike. She quietly opened the door and there was Mike in a rocking chair, holding Mary in his huge hand, singing a lullaby in his low, gravely voice with tears running down his checks. The baby was cooing and had a smile on her face as she reached for Mike's face. Caitlyn quietly closed the door and went back down stairs with a smile on her face.

Later that evening, after everyone had left, Mike started to go, but Caitlyn grabbed his hand and told Mike that she had seen him with Mary. He told her that he was reminded of his own Mary when she was the same age. Caitlyn took his hand and said, follow me and started to lead him to the stairs. He held back, but the gentle voice said GO with her.

In the bedroom, Caitlyn began to undress and told Mike to do the same. He said that he slept nude and Caitlyn told him she did too. With much trepidation, Mike undressed and crawled into bed with Caitlyn. Caitlyn asked him why he had had tears running down his cheeks while holding Mary. At that point, the dam seemed to burst, the tears flowed, and through great sobs for the next three hours he told Caitlyn the whole story of the explosion, fire, deaths and the past 3 years of sorrow, emptiness, and the voice he thought was Beth's.

When he finished telling the story he seemed to fall into a deep sleep. Caitlyn held him tight, or at least as well as someone 5-2 can hold someone 6-4. Early the next morning, Caitlyn woke and Mike was still asleep. Caitlyn got up and let Mike sleep. Around 11:00, Caitlyn heard Mike moving upstairs. When he came down, he indicated he should go home. Caitlyn told him no and said it was time to talk. She gave him a cup of coffee and they sat at the table and talked. They both talked about sorrow and emptiness, about loneliness and about a voice that they thought was Beth's. At the end of the talking, Caitlyn told Mike he was staying for the weekend. Mike heard a gentle voice saying please say yes and he did.

That night, Mike followed Caitlyn up the stairs. Caitlyn asked Mike if he enjoyed the view. Mike wasn't sure what she meant, so said nothing. When they got into bed, Mike slowly slipped off to sleep. Caitlyn was disappointed that Mike didn't seem interested in her.

Saturday brought another day of introspection and talking. Mike was uncomfortable, but the voice kept telling him to talk, and he did. He told more about the past few years and the details of the explosion and fire. He talked about Beth and their children and grand kids. Caitlyn talked about her life with Bob and how she yearned for intimacy but it wasn't fulfilled.

When it was time to go to bed, Caitlyn had to take Mike by the hand and lead him upstairs. In bed, Mike was surprised that he began to get hard and was embarrassed. Caitlyn was surprised and pleased. She kissed him with little response. She kissed him again and got a little response. As they kissed again, her hand ran down over his stomach and found a large, hard cock and tight balls. Mike started to apologize, but Caitlyn shut him off by kissing him again. She forced her tongue into his mouth. Slowly, Mike responded. All the time, the voice kept telling him, YES, YES, go for it, enjoy it, give it to her, fuck her, you need it, she needs it, don't quit on her, it's OK!

Mike continued to respond. Soon, Caitlyn crawled on top of Mike and guided Mikes massive cock to her pussy and as she sank down on him a huge moan escaped her lips. She just sat there unmoving enjoying the pleasure of a hard cock in her pussy. It felt so good and she was sure Mike was starting to enjoy it because his eyes started to brighten. Mike reached for her boobs. His big, strong, scarred, and callused hands excited her nipples like they had never been excited before. They mauled her tits and she cried with joy as she bounced on his massive cock. Mike let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. It had been so long since he had enjoyed pleasure like this. Both Caitlyn and Mike had massive orgasms. Mike dumped a gallon of cum in Caitlyn's pussy and again he apologized, but Caitlyn shut him up by kissing him again. They slept that night with Caitlyn on Mike's chest and her legs wrapped around his cock.

Sunday morning, Mike was embarrassed, but Caitlyn put him at ease. They showered independently and Caitlyn fixed breakfast for the two of them. Mike ate like he hadn't eaten in over a year. Coffee, orange juice, eggs, toast, bacon. He couldn't get enough. Later they walked, holding hands, and talking about gentle voices. Caitlyn had been hearing the voice as well. She knew it was Beth's.

Dinner was left overs, but something drove them to the bedroom. Mike heard the voice urging him on, fuck her, make love to her, eat her pussy, suck her tits and Mike did. Caitlyn had never experienced anything like what Mike was doing to her and she reveled in it. She came harder than she had ever come and she came multiple times. She sucked Mike's cock and he filled her mouth with his cum. When they were satiated, Caitlyn curled up to Mike and he held her close as if he didn't want her to ever leave. They slept the sleep of the dead that night.

Monday, they had breakfast together. Again, Mike ate like a starving man. Caitlyn told him about everything in the house that needed fixing. He went home to change his clothes and get his tools. A few hours later he was back and working on her list.

December came and the Christmas season was on them. Mike helped Caitlyn decorate the house. They shopped together for Caitlyn's family. Both agreed not to get each other anything. When Christmas came, Caitlyn's family came over for Christmas eve. When Mary saw Mike, she crawled to him and he picked her up. His lips twitched up in a small smile as she sat in his lap. Family members tried to take her away, but she made it clear she was where she wanted to be. Mike smiled even more.

Mary sat in Mike's lap and opened her packages. As with all 18 month olds, she didn't understand what Christmas was about but she seemed to enjoy being in Mike's lap and stayed there the entire evening before her mother picked her up and took her home.

The new year brought more sex to Mike and Caitlyn. They seemed to spend nights together in either Caitlyn's house or Mike's house. The first time in Mike's house, Caitlyn teased Mike with her bare ass and tits and they chased each other around the house naked before Mike caught her and mounted her from behind. Because of the size difference between the two of them, they had agreed that the missionary position was not practicable. Caitlyn was afraid Mike would crush her, so their sex was cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy or any other position that did not have Mike on top of her.

By summer, they agreed they should move in together. Both put their houses up for sale with the understanding that they would live in the house that didn't sell first. Caitlyn's house sold first, so she moved into Mike's bungalow. They talked about marriage, but decided they were too old to be bothered with a piece of paper, so they just planned to live together. After that discussion, both heard a gentle voice laughingly say good bye, I'm no longer needed here. Mike and Caitlyn looked at each other in surprise.