Mayfield! (I) (1133 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Mayfield!
Rating: 1.71 on 27 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2006-03-21 17:52:31 EST
[Author's Note #1: I'm way too busy at work right now to concentrate on more 'serious' series, but I must write. Whenever that happens... stuff like this happens.]
[Author's Note #2: This takes place in a netherworld which, for the sake of arguments from nit-pickers, can be set in the time just before 'Leave it to Beaver' went off the air in the middle of 1963.]
---1 June Sees---
In Mayfield, the Cleaver home at 211 Pine Street was quiet, orderly. The boys were at school. Ward was taking the day off and was out in the back yard... under the back yard actually, inspecting the new rec room he had built, a pointless exercise which June considered a waste of money, since Ward already had a perfectly comfy den inside the house.
June Cleaver was in the kitchen polishing the shiny sides of her new stainless steel toaster, when she felt light-headed and swooned, leaning against the refrigerator and gasping for breath as her vision darkened and smears of color moved in that darkness.
She stood straight and felt her equilibrium return. As her vision cleared and returned to normal she felt like she was watching a photographic trick in a Hitchcock picture. Snippets of images and sounds flashed before her, rushed at her, and then she was in the real world again, listening to the tick of the clock in the quiet kitchen.
June put her hand to her throat, about to chide herself for acting like a silly schoolgirl, when the refrigerator kicked on and the noise startled her so badly she raised both hands to her ears, accidentally snapping her string of pearls.
The pearls dropped to the floor, and June quickly got down on her knees and began gathering them up.
"Oh my," she said. "Oh my goodness-gracious."
The images and sounds that had rushed by her when she nearly fainted were now clearly visible, each one appearing on a separate pearl. As the small white orbs rolled to and fro, the sounds and images remained on top, facing her. She felt as if she were looking at two dozen impossibly small television screens, each carrying a different program.
These were not TV shows, however. They were something else.
June scooped up all the loose pearls, dropping them into the wide pocket on the front of her apron. She shook her head, hoping to deny what she had seen projected upon the pearls, but deep inside she knew the truth.
There were bad times ahead.
---2 Beaver Hears---
Prying apart the slices of Wonder Bread, Beaver peered inside his sandwich. Peanut butter and jam. Lots of kids complained about the lunches their moms made, but the Beaver never did. His mom was kind of spooky in that she always seemed to know what he was going to want. All morning long he had been craving a sandwich just like this. And it wasn't cheap jelly either, but real strawberry jam, and Beaver loved the way the seeds in the jam crunched inside the smoothness of the peanut butter. It made the sandwich something special.
Beaver looked around the cafeteria. There was a spring cold going around and lots of kids were out sick. He spotted the new kid, Duane Sykes, at the next table.
Duane was kind of weird. He had just transferred to the school a few months ago. He was really smart, but his hair was always messy and he usually had crumbs on his shirt or milk or juice stains on his shirt.
Still, Duane had always been nice to the Beaver, even though almost every other kid in school picked on the new guy.
Gathering up his lunch box, Beaver went over and sat at the next table.
"Hi, Duane."
Duane looked up, swayed in his seat a little, like a drunk in a movie, and then grinned. "Hi, Theodore."
"Mind if I sit with you? It's real boring in here today."
"Sure, that would be neat."
Beaver took a few bites from his sandwich and a sip of milk, and then said, "Duane, I never see you with your own friends. Do you have any friends?"
Duane shrugged. "I have friends. Just not... here."
"Oh," Beaver said. He frowned. "Pen pals from back home or something?"
"Not exactly," Duane said. He looked over his shoulder, then leaned across the table and whispered, "My friends are... different."
Beaver thought that was kind of weird, and he was beginning to wonder if Duane was loony tunes, like that little kid named Stanley something who started crying one day in the playground and eating big handfuls of dirt.
"Yeah? Different how?"
Duane spoke in a whisper now. "You know how sometimes friends lend each other things, like yoyos and cap guns and stuff?
Beaver shrugged. "Sure."
"Well,' Duane said, now speaking in soft little breaths of sound, "My friends gave me these."
Duane reached into his coat pockets and removed two items. A cool-looking pair of sunglasses with lenses that looked as if they were covered in frost like a window in the middle of winter, and a small, strange-looking gun made of shiny red metal.
Duane slipped the things back into his pockets and said, "Ever hear of flying saucers?"
The Beaver didn't know what to say.
"This is real neat," Duane said. "Now listen up."
---3 Wally Wonders---
Wally and Lumpy were standing by their lockers when Lumpy grinned and slapped Wally on the back.
"High school. Wild, huh?"
"Uh, yeah," Wally replied. One minute they had been taking about sports and the next Wally saw something that completely derailed his train of thought.
"We're becoming men," Lumpy said. "And that means we are able to do certain things we couldn't do before."
"Sure, Lumpy." Wally didn't know what the heck Lumpy was talking about.
"And we now have certain responsibilities," Lumpy said, his tone much more serious than before.
"Uh, whatever."
Just a few lockers down from Wally was a Negro girl. Wally looked up and down the hall, wondering what was going on. He'd never seen a Negro in school before. A lot of other kids were looking at her too, and they seemed kind of angry.
"In fact," Lumpy said, "There are things happening in the world that—"
And there were even weirder things going on. Further down the hall the new Principal, a really tough vet from the Big One named Mr. Ogden, was taking to a guy that Wally was pretty sure was a famous actor or something like that, because he was sure he had seen the man on TV.
"—things that men like us," Lumpy threw out his chest as he said this, "important men in this town need to attend to, to ensure that—"
The Negro girl dropped a couple of her books. Without really thinking about it, Wally trotted over and picked them up.
"Hey," Wally said. "Uh, here you are."
"Thank you," the girl said.
Wally felt strange. She looked at him for only a second, like he was going to yell at her or something. She was acting kind of weird, like she was scared.
"I'm Wally," he said. He stuck out his hand without thinking. His dad always told him to be a gentleman. His mom always told him to treat a lady with respect. That was the thing to do here. He could wonder about the whole Negro thing later.
"I'm Clara," the girl said, sneaking another look at him. "I know you from somewhere."
Wally smiled. He liked the way she talked, like she was from the South, maybe.
Ah know yooo frum sum-weyah.
It was like music.
He shrugged. "Uh, gee, I don't—"
The girl laughed and put a hand on his arm. It was a warm spring day and Wally was wearing a short-sleeved shirt.
Her hand was really soft.
"I know. It was at the party not long ago. I was earning a little fun money working as a maid. You were working as a parking attendant, if I recall correctly. And you got in a spot of trouble."
Wally didn't know what to say. Now she thought he was a jerk, some kind of square. He hitched his shoulders nervously and scratched at the back of his neck with one hand.
The girl leaned forward a little and said, "I hope you didn't get punished too bad, now."
Lumpy was suddenly at his side, and if Wally had been fully aware he would have realized there was something different about his old friend. Lumpy's face was as still as stone, and his eyes were as cold as ice.
"Let me stop you from making a mistake," Lumpy said. "There is a brotherhood..." Before he could finish he glanced down the hall, turned on one heel, and disappeared.
Wally missed all of it. He was wondering why there hadn't ever been any Negro girls in his school before now.
"Well, gosh," Wally said, "I actually wasn't really punished at all."
"Hmmm," the girl replied, her eyes flicking up and down as if she was looking him over. "I wonder what else you're gonna get away with?"
Wally didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but he really liked listening to her talk, and when she looked into his eyes he felt like he did that time he tried to change a bulb in an old lamp and got a mild shock.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and this time he got a real shock.
The man principle Ogden had been talking to wasn't a famous actor, but Wally had definitely seen him on TV before.
"Hello young man, I'm Robert Kennedy."
Wally could only gape. After a moment he said, "You're the President's brother!"
Kennedy laughed. "And who has the tougher job, him as President, or me as his little brother?"
"Huh?" Wally thought Mr. Kennedy had an awful strange way of talking.
Mr. Kennedy put a firm hand on Wally's shoulder as Principal Ogden came near.
"I'm damned proud of you son," the old former Marine said. "Damned proud."
Wally looked from Ogden to Kennedy to Clara. "Uh... what?"
Kennedy clapped him on the back and laughed out loud. "This is pure and honest red-blooded America right here, Mr. Ogden. No ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. Just a good old fashioned, good-natured boy."
Wally was getting confused. "Huh?"
"We want to talk to you about integration," Principal Ogden said.
Robert Kennedy smiled at the Negro girl and said, "Come with us, Clara, if you will." As he started leading Wally down the hall he said, "Have you ever been on TV?"
---4 Ward Approves---
"One-eighth inch steel plating for floor, walls and ceiling, " Ward said, pulling a pencil from behind one ear and making precise little checkmarks on a list he had written. "Air circulator and electrical support, diesel-powered. Vented generator and fuel stores in protected concrete niche. Dried food and sanitized water stores in place. Wood paneling and carpet and furniture all in place in bedrooms, family room and kitchen. Very nice job. Reading and reference library crated and stored. Radio transmitters, flashlights, tools, batteries, all stored. Armory fully stocked, and the guns..."
Ward smiled, a dreamy look crossing his face. He didn't hear a muffled ring sound three times.
"The guns," he sighed. "Good American steel that will fill the hands of the righteous and bring hellfire down on any Commie bastards who—"
"Ward?"
Ward's eyes narrowed as he looked toward the staircase leading up to the surface.. "Yes, dear?"
"Ward, there's a mister 'Clock' on the phone for you. He sounds, I don't know, sinister. And what kind of a name is 'Clock' for a grown man? Honestly, Ward, I—"
With a good-natured chuckle Ward said, "Oh June, he's an old friend from the SeeBees. We had many an adventure together. I'll take the call down here."
"Down there?" June sounded perplexed. "Ward, you had another phone put in down there? What's wrong with the phone in the house? And why on earth would anyone want to throw away money on an extra phone when one serves just fine?"
Ward glanced at the staircase again, thinking of June's slender neck. He ground his teeth together and reached for his wallet. Inside the old billfold was a very slender metal tube. He unscrewed the top and took out a long silver pin.
He pushed the pin through the palm of his left hand, turning his hand so he could watch it come out the other side.
The pain was exquisite. There was very little blood, and Ward knew how to avoid sinew and bone. He wanted pain, not permanent damage.
From the surface June called down into the dimness below. "Ward... honey?"
"Better," he whispered, drawing in and slowly releasing a deep breath.
Ward pierced his hand with the pin three more times, and then put the silver splinter away.
"Sweetheart, why don't you get me a glass of lemonade and come down in a few minutes. I'll show you what I've been up to down here."
"Okay," June said, sounding unsure.
Ward flexed his hand, saw that the bleeding had already stopped, opened a steel box welded to one wall and lifted a handset. When he heard the click of June hanging up the phone in the house, he said, "This is Marksman."
"Marksman," a garbled voice said. "This is Clock. New assignment. Twenty-five thousand dollars. November. Now in planning stages."
Ward listened a little longer, nodded once, and then said, "Fine, I'll wait for more details," before hanging up.
When he returned upstairs June had his lemonade waiting. He kissed her on the cheek.
"Thanks, honey."
"Is everything okay, Ward?"
"Of course. Let me finish this lemonade and then I'll show you what's in the backyard. It's more than a den, June. It's a safe place for our entire family."
"Well, okay," she replied.
"Oh, and one more thing," Ward added. "I may have to fly to Dallas near the end of the year."
---5 Eddie Ejaculates---
"Oh man," Eddie moaned, an expression of pure bliss on his face. "Oh-MAN-OH-MAN!"
Eddie punched at the air with one bony fist and the convertible swerved.
Some old timer in a dusty sedan tooted his horn from the opposite lane.
"Sez you," Eddie sneered.
He had to get home. He could not stop the images that were clouding his mind, and if he didn't get home soon he was going to have a terrible accident. But the feeling... ohh, baby, the feeling...
The accident was going to occur in his pants, and Eddie knew that if he wasn't careful he could wreck the car. He wanted to get home, park, race into the bathroom, and let his sinful, blissful act run its course.
Eddie remembered the first time this had happened, a month ago.
He and Wally had been messing around and watching TV when Wally's mom had come into the room.
Eddie had always thought June was quite lovely, and he would never have entertained a filthy thought about her, but...
She had been wearing a button-up sweater. She had brought them a couple of sodas, and as she leaned over to set the sodas on coasters Eddie realized that the usually prim and proper Mrs. Cleaver had accidentally skipped a button and now there was a gap in her sweater.
This sparked a brief war between Eddie's two selves. One voice in his mind told him to look away, and respect his friend's mother as she had always been so kind to him. The other voice spoke around dark chuckles and told Eddie to g'wan, take a peek, one look wouldn't hurt.
Eddie was never sure if he actually committed the horrible act of peeking or if June had maneuvered herself to show him what he wanted to see, but as Wally pointed at the television and laughed out loud Eddie saw cashmere part and reveal something lacy, and the lace bowed and Eddie was looking down into shadowed perfumed depths and seeing...
Nipple.
Eddie grabbed a soda and pretended to spill it on himself so he could blurt out an 'oops!' and race for the bathroom.
His wang had exploded.
Sure, Eddie had pulled his pud before, all the kids did it. But he didn't overdo it because everyone knew it was an immortal sin and all. This had been different. This was like comparing an atom bomb to a bunch of water balloons.
Eddie had bitten into the side of his hand to stop from screaming out loud, and he had felt his undershorts filling with the warm broth that had surged out of him.
He had ended up sneaking home, ashamed.
Now he felt that same detonation building again, and although he tried to fight it he could not rid his mind of the delicious image he had seen, driven by his disgusting compulsion to play hooky and lurk outside the Cleaver home, hiding in the bushes and watching June clean the kitchen, and then staring in astonishment as she began to writhe in ecstasy and then dropped onto the floor on her hands and knees, her magnificent buttocks raised high as she—
Eddie let out a screech as his body grew rigid and grabbed his crotch, just as his foot stomped down on the accelerator and the car jumped the sidewalk, hurtling toward a large steel mailbox.
---TBC---
User Reviews
Submitted by lostnphound (user info) at 2008-02-06 16:23:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2008-02-06 10:03:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2006-04-10 14:19:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-04-05 21:39:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ruled
Submitted by Cyrus (user info) at 2006-03-29 19:32:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Love it
Submitted by Kale (user info) at 2006-03-26 02:06:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by hcp28 (user info) at 2006-03-22 18:09:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
My special place feels funny.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-03-22 17:14:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
WARD, CAN YOU COME PLAY WITH THE BEAVER??
Submitted by Fungah (user info) at 2006-03-22 13:29:09 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Bow down before me, your new lord and ruler, and serenade me with a beautiful flowing chorus of insults and -2's.
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dlfnsngr;osmtrgo; hwmneo;p j5w93ng[qpg eu8qpw9ju8n9o hv79opu iesgnjh5ro 7uieswajnhgaqohwg5ru9 psyu,tsjpi5rexswau8ioswa0[uoju5qaojtp0om8qa oq5jaqlnhgowsan
dlfnsngr;osmtrgo;hwmneo;pj5w93ng[qpgeu8qpw9ju8n9oihv79opuiesgnjh5roq7uieswajnhgaqohwg5 ru9psyu, tsjpi5re xswa u8ioswa0[uoju5qaojtp0om8qaoq5jaqlnhgowsan
dlfnsngr;osmtrg o;hwmneo; pj5w 93ng[qpgeu 8qpw9ju8n9oihv79opuiesgnjh5r q7uieswajnhgaqohwg5ru 9psyu,tsjpi5rexswau8 ioswa0[uo ju5 qaojt p0om8qaoq5jaqlnhgowsan
dlfnsn gr;osmtrgo;hwmneo;pj5w93ng[qpgeu8qpw9ju8n9oihv79opuiesgnjh5roq7uieswajnhgaqohwg 5ru9psyu,tsjp i5re xswau8io swa0[uoju5qao jtp0om8qaoq5jaqlnhgowsan
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Submitted by nrduncan (user info) at 2006-03-22 11:30:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-03-22 09:07:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2006-03-22 06:48:02 (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good throughout.
As a Catholic constantly wracked by guilt I feel obliged to tell you that masturbation is a mortal sin, not immortal. Not important but, y'know.
Sod your work and just write more of this!
--
I stand corrected. Thanks.
And thanks for letting the world wide web know you masturbate.
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2006-03-22 06:48:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good throughout.
As a Catholic constantly wracked by guilt I feel obliged to tell you that masturbation is a mortal sin, not immortal. Not important but, y'know.
Sod your work and just write more of this!
Submitted by DizzyMissus (user info) at 2006-03-22 04:48:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent!
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-03-22 02:29:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"Ward honey?, how about some sliced cucumber to go with your tuna casserole tonight"?
"O...I forgot to tell you Eddie asked Wally if he could have a sleep-over tonight and
"that I told them both it was OK"
Submitted by viciousthawts (user info) at 2006-03-22 01:39:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Whoa!
That was deep.
You gotta keep this going!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-03-21 23:34:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2006-03-21 22:20:35 (#)
Ranking: 2
Very cool. I always enjoy your work. How long will this series be?
--
???
As long as it takes to tell the tale, I guess.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-03-21 22:41:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2006-03-21 22:20:35 (#)
Ranking: 2
Very cool. I always enjoy your work. How long will this series be?
________________________________________________
Longer than the Beave's crank. Ooops!!
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2006-03-21 22:20:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very cool. I always enjoy your work. How long will this series be?
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-03-21 22:05:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
WTF I read all that.
And it was good. And it was disturbing.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-03-21 21:08:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Forget the fucking speeeeellling. I is drunk. . .
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-03-21 21:07:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
*ecstacy* Fucking keyboard. . .
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-03-21 21:05:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
WTF? Ward Cleaver is going to kill Kennedy? June with her buttocks in the
air, writhing in exstacy? You are a very sick man.
By the way, how old were you in 1963? :)
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2006-03-21 21:00:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Kirk: What makes you guys so special?
Homer: Because Marge and I have one thing that can never be broken: a
strong marriage built on a solid foundation of routine.
A Milhouse Divided
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-03-21 20:52:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I just deep fried my cat!
Submitted by PokeyPecker (user info) at 2006-03-21 20:38:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I just fucked a toothbrush!
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2006-03-21 19:51:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Cool. More please!
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-03-21 18:01:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
awesome
can't wait for more