Southern Fried (8 page)

down mine as well.

I turned back around, just as they were lowering her into the

ground, the iced tea glasses making there way around. The toast

was said by Jeeves, of all people. “Rest in peace, Miss Jackson,”

he said, with a wry smile. “Or at least let those around you get

some.” I chuckled, as did Pearl. Probably the first joke he ever

made, and, wouldn’t you know it, it was at a funeral.

southeRn FRied
43

Still, not everyone was laughing as the coffin hit rock bottom,

so to speak.

It was then that the stranger’s bawling turned to caterwauling

and then to flat out hysterics. “You can’t go!” he shouted, breaking

through our little group before kneeling at the edge of the grave.

“Not yet!” he added, somewhat cryptically, I thought. I mean, she

was old. Way old. And she’d done everything she’d set out to do,

far as I knew. What did she have
yet
to do? Plus, who was he to be

going on like that? And, yikes, where was he going?

Meaning, one minute he was staring over the edge and the

next he was gone.
Plunk
. Yep, with all of us staring on in disbelief,

he dropped right on down, landing on top of the casket, which

he then began to claw at. I know this because I moved in to

watch, scratching my head all the while, my iced tea gulped down,

the glass set to the ground. I mean, yes, the man had clearly lost

his senses, but no use letting that fine tea go to waste.

Pearl came over to my side and craned her ample neck down,

too. “Ain’t gonna bring her back, son,” she tried telling him.

Which probably wasn’t the best choice of words, seeing as

he doubled up on his sobbing and carrying on. And clawing at

all that expensive wood. So I tried something next. “Uh,” I said,

squatting now and staring over the edge. “You know, Granny

hated scenes.”

Well now, wouldn’t you know it,
that
stopped him cold. He

turned to look up, locking eyes with me yet again, his stare sharp

as daggers. “What would you know about it? Ain’t like you been to

see her in all this time,” he spat, briefly pausing with his carrying

on. Briefly. Because then he went right on back to it.

I stood, confused at what he’d said. How would he know

where I was or wasn’t all those years? Just who the hell was he,

anyway?

But, again, I wasn’t about to find out. Least not yet. Because

right about then the police pulled up, their car at the edge of the

grass, lights flashing. The preacher must’ve called them, I figured,

seeing as we hadn’t. And it wasn’t as if any of us where about to

44 Rob Rosen

jump in the grave after him. As I had said, Granny hated scenes.

As did we all. At least not in public. It just wasn’t very southern.

The police obviously had the same misgivings. Still, someone

had to get him out of there, and it might as well have been them,

especially since we were all hollering at them to do just that, the

preacher the loudest. I mean, yes, he might’ve been creepy, but

he was still the Lord’s right hand man, so it probably wasn’t good

to ignore him for very long.

Thankfully, the police relented soon enough and jumped in

after the stranger. Took them several minutes, but they managed

to yank him free. Kicking and squirming, he fought them, but

eventually they managed to lift him up and toss him out. Which is

when, like I warned you about earlier, he was carted away, leaving

us all there in utter shock and confusion.

“What was that all about?” I managed.

“Beats me,” replied Pearl. “I mean, I done loved your Granny,

but I ain’t about to jump in there with her.” She pointed down to

the now silent grave. “Though the tea was a nice touch.”

I nodded. “Hit the spot.”

We all turned as the dirt started getting tossed in. None of us

had the heart to watch. Instead, we walked toward our cars, our

eyes fixed on the still squirming stranger as the cops shoved him

in the back of their squad car. His hollering could still be heard

behind the glass.

I paused and again scratched my head. I just knew I’d never

seen him before, so how did he know about me like he seemed

to? Anyway, it didn’t matter; I might never have seen him before,

but I was certainly going to get my full of him soon enough.

Sorry for the foreshadowing again, but, come on, even you

must’ve realized that we weren’t finished with the likes of him

just yet. No one who jumps inside your Granny’s grave stays out

of your life for very long.

Jeeves, Pearl, and I drove back home. The rest of the staff,

with the day off, scattered in separate directions, clearly unsure of

what they’d be doing beyond the funeral. Not that I knew either,

really. For the time being, I was trying hard not to think about

it. Or Granny’s will, for that matter. Something told me it wasn’t

going to be what any of us were expecting. Truth was, it would be

just like Granny to leave everything to the possums. A last laugh,

if you will. Only, even I knew better than that. The estate had to

be left in the family. Me being family. But was Granny as crazy as

Pearl had made her out to be? That’s what had me worried.

I shook the thought from my head and turned her way. “What

do you think that was all about back there? You only see that sort

of thing in the movies. And only by loved ones at that, not by

strangers.”

“Maybe it was the heat, boy,” she said, with a sigh. “Makes

people do the oddest things. I remember my grandpappy once.

We was all sitting out back of our cabin, fanning ourselves, what

with it being the hottest August I could recall. So hot even the

tree frogs were keeping quiet. Anyway, my grandpappy just

stands right on up, shucks off his clothes, and marches his brown

ass down to the pond. Man couldn’t even swim a stroke and he

just jumps right on in, whooping and hollering like a little boy.

Damndest thing I ever did see.”

“What’d you do?” I couldn’t help but ask, picturing the scene

in my head.

“Me?” she said, with a smile. “I grabbed his fan. That there

pond was full of snakes and gators. Meaning, I might’ve been

hot, but I wasn’t about to lose my head over it none.”

I snickered. “Be that as it may, it wasn’t the heat that made

46 Rob Rosen

that man jump inside Granny’s grave. You heard his crying. That

was sadness, pure and simple. But why? Why would he be so sad?

None of us even know who he is.”

She sighed. “Unless he’s Beau Pellingham.”

And then I sighed. “But none of us know who Beau

Pellingham even is.”

“Yessum,” she agreed. “But your Granny sure knew him or

she wouldn’t be leaving him something inside that will of hers.”

Which was true, though not the least bit helpful. “But what,

I wonder?”

She turned and stroked my cheek. “Gonna find out soon

enough, boy. Tomorrow will be here before you know it.”

§ § § §

And that it was.

I stretched and yawned into it, in fact, sun so bright it

practically burned a hole right on through the shades, the heat

of the day already evident, baking my room. I kicked off the

blanket, staring down the length of my bedmate, who had snuck

inside the night before. He was naked as a jaybird, face buried in

a pillow.

I grinned. “That’s one fine ass you got there, Zeb. Grade-A

prime beef.”

He chuckled, the sound muffled, but he spread his legs just

the same. He lifted his head a tad so that I could hear him. “Good

enough to eat?” he asked.

“Good enough, I suppose,” I replied, reaching my hand out

to spank it.

“Better than Pearl’s grits?” he asked, legs even wider now.

My grin went high up on my face. “Don’t rightly know, Zeb.

Might require some research on my part before I can answer that.

I mean, Pearl does make some mighty fine grits, you know.”

“Fair enough,” he said, suddenly up on all fours, butt jutting

out. “Research away, then, Trip.”

southeRn FRied
47

I jumped up and knelt behind him, morning wood at full-

mast, hard as a tree stump. I ran my hands across all that alabaster,

the fine hairs tickling my palms. I gave his left cheek a
thwack
,

then another, the red rising to the surface. He moaned, his hand

reaching between his legs, his dick pushed through, balls as well.

“If I’m gonna compete with Pearl’s grits I might as well cheat

just a bit, give you something extra to sink your teeth into.” He

laughed. “Only, please don’t use your teeth none, Trip; meat

might be Grade-A prime, but it’s tender enough you don’t need

‘em.”

I giggled. “Granny always said, if you’re gonna cheat, might

as well give it everything you got. Nothing worse than a cheater

who’s also a loser.”

He pushed his dick and balls even further my way. “Trust me,

Trip, this
is
everything I got.”

And I had a feeling he wasn’t about to lose, either. Meaning,

my mouth sunk down on his prick in a flash. Maybe faster. Again

he moaned, beautiful asshole winking out at me, heavy balls

bouncing off the brim of my nose as I sucked him off, his thick

tool pushing down my throat. He smelled of musk and sweat and

tasted salty sweet, his precome hitting the back of my throat like

a bullet. In other words, Pearl’s grits didn’t stand a chance.

“How’m I doing?” he rasped.

I popped his prick out of my mouth, my tongue lapping

around his ring. “Pearl’s grits don’t stand a chance.” See, told you

so!

I rimmed him out, yanking his cock, balls swaying, bed

creaking. He bucked and groaned, shoving his glorious ass into

my face. Then his back arched, a rumble rocking down his body,

out his butt, and straight through to my chest. He shot a split

second later, buckets of come drenching the sheets down below.

I backed away, admiring my work as he fought to catch his breath.

Then I hopped up, got myself a towel to clean it all up with.

He was already on his back when I returned, patting the space

by his side once I was done. I hopped in next to him. “Your

48 Rob Rosen

turn,” he told me, rolling over, his nimble hand making me hard

in two seconds flat, his lips pressed to my lips, soft as a cloud,

eyes wide open, locked with mine. He pulled away, stroking all

the while. “Morning,” he whispered, smiling as bright as the sun

outside.

His grin was infectious. I kissed him, every nerve ending in

my body shooting off, come rising to the surface like molten

magma. “Morning,” I echoed, with Vesuvius about to erupt. And

then promptly did.

He pressed his lips even tighter to mine, my moans pushing

into his lungs, his fist moving like wildfire on my prick, my load

shooting up, splashing across my belly. I squirmed beneath him

as he drained every last drop out of me, my body drenched with

sweat. Then he cleaned me up and plopped down next to me

again, both of us huffing and puffing.

“You know something, Trip?” he said, caressing my upper

thigh with his dexterous fingertips.

“What’s that, Zeb?” I replied, still panting.

“Shame I wasn’t working here ten years ago. Me and you

would’ve got ourselves into a fine mess of trouble.”

I laughed. “No time like the present, Zeb,” I told him.

“Besides, ten years ago, Granny would’ve caught us for sure. And

a mess of trouble is just what we would’ve been in. Multiplied by

a hundred. Last time anyone had sex in this mansion, Roosevelt

was president.”

“Which one, Teddy or Franklin D.?”

“Doesn’t matter. Point is, took me ten years to get comfortable

enough to do this; back then, I’d have been too scared.” I sighed,

my smile matching his. “But now’s the perfect time.”

Only, there was nothing perfect about that time, either, as we

were soon to find out.

Sorry, just preparing you.

Still, that particular hour was pretty close to perfect, so I’m

not complaining. Perfect as we nestled next to each other. Perfect

southeRn FRied
49

as we showered together. Perfect on up until we got dressed

together. Then it went right on down hill as he snuck away,

tiptoeing out of sight. Though, of course, not out of mind. No

sir, no how. I laughed, staring up at the ceiling. “What would you

have thought, Granny? Me sleeping with the help. Not a very

Jackson-like thing to do, huh?”

I laughed again as I headed down the stairs, the smell of

Pearl’s breakfast making my tummy rumble. “Morning,” I said,

pulling out a chair before sitting down to the table. “What are

we having?”

She turned and smiled. “Grits with cheese and bacon.” She

turned back around, swirling the mixing bowl. “And there ain’t

nothing like my grits, Trip.”

I fought back the urge to laugh again. “Well now, I can think

of one thing,” I whispered.

Thankfully, she didn’t hear me. And, truth be told, her grits

were something spectacular. But Zeb’s ass, man, that was just