“Don’t worry about it. How about you drive to the cabin, though? I’ll navigate.”
“Yes, of course,” I agreed, and we got out of the car to switch places.
As soon as we drove off the ferry, there was a sign welcoming us to Manitowoc, Wisconsin. According to Lars, it was only about twenty minutes from the ferry to Clark’s Mills. I pointed out a convenience store as we approached it, but he said we’d stop at one before the turnoff for Clark’s Mills.
“I’ll wait in the car. We’ll have a stove and microwave at the cabin, so get whatever you’d like to eat for the next few days,” Lars said as I pulled into the parking lot.
I grabbed a basket that was next to the door when I walked inside and knew better than to drag my feet. I tossed a few cans of soup, some chicken pot pies, a fresh loaf of bread, and a package of sliced American cheese into the basket. I set the basket on the counter and went back for a box of Corn Flakes, a case of bottled water, a half-gallon of milk, and a few single-serving juices. I loaded the bags of groceries in the backseat of the car, and we were back on the road.
“It should be about a half hour from here,” Lars said.
As we neared the family cabin, my pulse started to race again. The last time I was here was with my dad to bury my mom. When the cabin came into view, my mouth went dry. It looked exactly the same as it had eighteen years ago.
“Let’s get the groceries taken in first, then we’ll handle the unpleasant task we came here for. After that, we’ll spend the rest of our time focused on one another. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” I agreed and nodded. “That sounds good to me.”
I hoisted the case of water onto my shoulder and grabbed the bags with the juices and milk in it while Lars grabbed the rest. We climbed the wooden steps to the house, and I gazed around the woods while Lars unlocked the door.
The moment the door opened, a burst of air that smelled like soot from the fireplace filled my nostrils. Inside immediately to my left was the door to the single bedroom, and directly in front of us was the living room, kitchen, and nook. The bathroom was to my right. I remembered thinking this place was small when I was a kid, but now, as an adult, the inside looked much smaller. As soon as we got the groceries put away, Lars and I headed outside.
“Griffin, go around to the back of the cabin and fetch the wheelbarrow.”
Blue wheelbarrow.
Unlike when I was a kid, I didn’t run this time. The blue wheelbarrow was in the exact place where I found it eighteen years ago.
The wheelbarrow had a joint that squeaked each time the wheel made a full rotation. As I guided it down the embankment to Lars’s car, I couldn’t help but wonder how many wrongs the men in my family thought they were “righting” with this wheelbarrow.
“The ground is really soft,” I informed him as I approached the car.
Lars didn’t seem bothered by the soft ground. He said that would make quick work out of this. Right, easier to dig. It had been overcast since we docked in Manitowoc early this afternoon. I just hoped the rain that was in the forecast would keep at bay until we finished.
Together, we pulled the body bag out of the trunk and set it gently into the rusted blue basin of the wheelbarrow. At a slow and steady pace, I pushed the wheelbarrow up the hill again. When we reached the back of the cabin, Lars stepped away from me and jogged toward a woodshed with a green metal roof that matched that of the cabin. I caught my breath and waited patiently for him to come out of the shed. Soon, he appeared with a burlap sack with a shoulder strap. He swung the sack over his shoulder and then reached into the shed and put two white bags on top of the body bag. Sticking out of the burlap bag were a few long-handled tools that I assumed were shovels.
“What’s in the bags?”
“Lime,” Lars answered.
Right. Lime. Of course.
We quietly proceeded deeper into the woods until we finally reached a spot by a large tree that Lars said would work. While I got to work immediately on digging, Lars went to the tree and began carving my aunt’s initials into the bark. I remembered Dad doing this for Mom.
“Did you guys do that for all of them?” I inquired when I stopped digging to catch my breath. Lars looked at me, and I gestured toward the tree. “The initials. Did you and my dad do that for all of them?”
“We did.”
I nodded and made a mental note to always make sure I did that as well. As I dug the shallow grave for my Aunt Marlowe, I focused on all the memories I had of her. From all of the holidays to consoling me after the death of my mom and then my dad, and everything in between. Before we lowered her body bag into the ground, Lars poured the lime into the grave. We lowered her into her final resting place and then he poured the other bag on top of her.
Without a word, Lars grabbed one of the shovels and started filling the grave with dirt. We worked in silence until it was done and then I began gathering the tools, the empty plastic bags from the lime, and the burlap sack and set them all in the wheelbarrow. When I turned to face Lars, he had undone his pants and pulled out his cock. A smile forced its way onto my face as I watched him slowly stroke his length.
“I believe we had been in the middle of this last night when we were interrupted.” He remembered.
“We were,” I agreed before lowering to my knees.
Eagerly, I opened my mouth and stared up into his blue eyes, begging him to feed me his cock. With each aggressive thrust, his cock seemed to get harder and harder in my mouth. My hands gripped his pants at his thighs for balance as his cock ravaged my mouth for his pleasure. Neither of our eyes strayed from one another until after I had swallowed his load.
Lars lowered to the ground and rubbed his palm over my aching cock that was pressed against the fabric of my pants. I stood and undid my pants so he could reciprocate. Before his hot mouth surrounded my rigid cock, he told me to go hard if I needed to. I wasn’t gentle, but I didn’t fuck his mouth any harder than he fucked mine. I felt the burn build fast seconds before I shot my load into his mouth. He swallowed my hot seed quickly, and when he stood, he kissed my mouth passionately.
