Summer Fever

couldn’t even jack off. No, let’s be honest. It’s not that I forgot how to stroke off, it’s just no matter what I did I couldn’t come. My dick got sore before anything happened, and I’d quit in disgust.
    I wondered why I didn’t just cut my vacation short and head back to the city. I could have a lot more fun there. The city was full of hot, slutty guys looking to hook up.
    Suddenly I remembered that I would need to fill up the car, and that there was a gas station on the edge of town where my family never went, so no one there was likely to grill me about my sex life. I could get gas and beer in one trip, and if I did decide to head back to the city early, I would only have to toss my bag in the back and hit the road.
    I changed my shorts for long pants and headed over there. Don’t ask about the shorts, it’s a mother thing.
    I filled up at the pump and went inside to get the beer. The clerk had the TV on and was chatting with a customer. I went to the cooler and started looking at my choices.
    “You hear about that shooting over in Sackettville?” the clerk asked.
    “What’s the world coming to when we get shootings up here?” the customer said disapprovingly. “This used to be a nice quiet place, where a decent man could bring up a family. Gangs. They’re everywhere these days.”
    “A couple cops got shot,” the clerk said. “Some kind of break in and hostage situation.”
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    Summer Fever | Catt Ford

    If I’d been holding anything I would have dropped it. I froze in place, holding the cooler door open while cold air misted around me.
    “Hey! Close that door, you’re letting all the refrigerated air out!” the clerk yelled over to me.
    I let go of the door and it slammed shut. I went to closer to the desk, watching the live feed on the TV with tons of cop cars parked by a warehouse. Just because Russ was a cop, it didn’t mean it had to be him.
    “Did they – did they say any of the names of the cops who got shot?” I stammered.
    The clerk looked at me curiously. “Didn’t hear half of them, but one of them was a local. Russell Seavers. Lives around here.” How could he be so blasé, I wondered, even avid. Didn’t he even care?
    “Is he… hurt bad?” I couldn’t bring myself to say dead.
    “Didn’t say. Just that all the injured parties were taken to the hospital in Sackettville.” He was still staring at me when I turned and ran for the door. “You know him?” he yelled after me.
    Good thing I’d filled up. It was a thirty-minute drive to Sackettville with traffic, even speeding. I’d forgotten that not everyone up here was on vacation like me.
    When I got to the hospital, I was surprised. It had been little more than a glorified Quonset hut when I was a kid and my mother hauled all three of us here whenever one of us needed stitches. Now it was a big, modern looking hospital. I never did tell her that one time my brother had hit me with a bat; she still believes I fell out of a tree. He didn’t mean to hit me that hard, and besides, I didn’t want to die for telling on him.
    I charged to the admissions desk and barked out a request to be shown to Officer Seavers’ room right away.
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    Summer Fever | Catt Ford

    The admissions clerk took the wind out of my sails immediately. “Are you a relative?”
    “No, I’m… I’m a… friend,” I said.
    “Only immediate relatives are permitted into the treatment areas,” she said. “You’ll have to wait.”
    “I’m a special friend, his… his close friend.” She looked at me kindly. “Are you his partner?”
    “No, not exactly. We haven’t… haven’t…”
    “Unless your name is on his medical contact form, I can’t help you.
    You’ll have to wait.” She pointed to the couches that lined the room.
    “Can’t you even tell me if he’s alive?” I asked desperately.
    She consulted her monitor. “Yes, that I can tell you.”
    “Was he hurt? I heard he was… shot.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, it just says that he’s in the E.R.” I started to pace, wondering if I dared approach any of the police officers that passed through the waiting room. They were all in a hurry and looked stressed. I had no way of knowing how many of their number were injured or dead, and decided that they wouldn’t give me the time of day.
    A man who bore a resemblance to Russ came into the hospital, accompanied by a woman with long blonde hair. I wondered if he was Russ’s brother.
    “Russ Seavers?” I