The Road Home

by Michael Thomas Ford

  “I’ve got to change film,” he told Will.

  Will walked over to him. He took the camera from Burke’s hand and set it on the ground. “I have a better idea,” he said, taking Burke’s hand and guiding it to his open fly. Burke felt rough hair beneath his fingertips and caught his breath. He hesitated a moment, then went farther. His hand touched Will’s cock, which was already half hard. He wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed. Will moaned.

  The sun suddenly felt too warm. Burke felt a bead of sweat run down his back. You shouldn’t do this, he told himself.

  Will shucked his jeans down, and his cock sprang free. He was now completely naked. Burke looked down at him and felt himself begin to stiffen.

  “Come on,” Will said. “Lie down.”

  He helped Burke onto the ground, where Burke lay on his back in the grass, looking up at the blue summer sky. He allowed Will to unbutton his shirt and pull it open. Then Will was undoing his belt and pulling his shorts and boxers down over his cast. The grass was scratchy against Burke’s ass, but he ignored it as Will straddled him, his butt against Burke’s thighs and their cocks touching. Will’s smooth balls slid along Burke’s belly as Will leaned forward and kissed him.

  Burke moved his mouth down Will’s neck, tasting his sweat. Will moved forward so that Burke could take one of his nipples into his mouth. He bit down gently and felt Will’s dick twitch. He reached up and pinched the other one, and again Will’s dick responded.

  “Turn around,” he told Will.

  Will obeyed, swinging around so that his ass was on Burke’s chest and he was facing Burke’s cock.

  “Suck me,” Burke told him.

  As Will bent and took the head of Burke’s dick in his mouth, Burke parted Will’s ass cheeks with his hands, exposing the rosy center. He leaned forward and tickled Will’s asshole with his tongue. Will jumped, clearly unused to the sensation. This made Burke more excited, and he buried his face in Will’s ass, holding him in place and moving his tongue, first in slow circles and then in longer, quicker thrusts.

  Will worked on Burke’s cock inexpertly but enthusiastically. He took as much of it into his throat as he could and used his hand to stroke the remaining length. His own prick leaked precum onto Burke’s stomach, falling in thick drips the more Burke tongued his hole. His balls were nestled against Burke’s chin, and every so often Burke took them into his mouth, sucking gently.

  When Will was wet, Burke slid a finger inside of him. Will pushed back against the pressure, taking Burke to the knuckle. He continued to suck Burke’s cock as Burke moved his finger in and out, and gradually Burke felt him relax. He pulled his finger out and pulled Will’s face away from his cock. Will, understanding, turned again so that he was once more sitting on Burke’s belly. He reached behind and grabbed Burke’s cock. Then he lifted himself up, positioned the head of Burke’s dick against his asshole, and lowered himself.

  He moved slowly. Burke watched his face as his expression changed from one of discomfort to one of tentative pleasure. He resisted the urge to push up into Will’s warm ass, letting him go at his own pace. Finally he was all the way in, and Will’s ass was pressed against his stomach. Will put his hands on Burke’s shoulders and lifted himself up until just the head of Burke’s cock was inside of him. Will’s ass and thighs were lightly haired, and Burke ran his fingertips gently over them, tracing the lines of muscle.

  He kept his eyes open, looking up at Will’s face. Behind Will’s head the clouds passed slowly. All around them the grass formed a curtain, hiding them from view. A warm breeze caused it to rustle softly. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, and Burke had no idea how long their lovemaking had gone on. He felt only the sun and wind and Will’s body against his.

  He was getting close. His fingers gripped Will’s thighs and he closed his eyes as the pressure rose to unbearable heights and exploded. As he came inside of Will, he cried out, his body shivering with the force of his orgasm. Will came right behind him. Thick ropes of cum exploded from his cock, covering Burke’s neck and chest with their sticky heat. Will wrapped his fingers around his shaft and stroked, coaxing more from it. Burke felt him shake as he came repeatedly.

  Will remained in place for a minute afterward, breathing heavily. Drops of sweat fell from his body onto Burke’s. Burke felt the cum on his skin drying in the heat of the sun.

  Finally Will slid off of Burke and rolled onto the grass beside him. “Fuck, that was hot,” he said. Then he laughed. “You took my cherry,” he said. “How’s it feel to be a virgin killer?”

  Burke wondered if this was true but said nothing. Instead, he picked up Will’s wifebeater and wiped his chest with it. “As payment I get to keep this,” he said.

  Will slapped his leg. “Dirty old man,” he said.

  “You’re the one who took advantage of my disability,” Burke teased. “I couldn’t have gotten away if I’d wanted to.”

  “If you’d wanted to,” Will stressed. “But I don’t think you did.”

  All of a sudden Burke realized something. “We shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Will turned his head. “Done what?” he said.

  “I didn’t use a condom,” said Burke. “Fuck, what was I thinking?”

  “Relax,” Will said. “It was my first time. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m not worried about me,” said Burke. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Why? You have something I should know about?” Will asked.

  Burke shook his head. “No,” he said. “But you don’t know that. Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”

  “With you, or with anyone else?” Will said.

  Burke tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his leg. “With anyone,” he said. “Guys my age didn’t march and scream and convince themselves condoms are hot just so you guys can get sick all over again.”

  “Relax,” Will said. “Message received. But I think since this is your fault, I should get to blow a load up your ass and we can call it even.”

  “Fucker,” Burke said, reaching over and pinching Will’s nipple.

  “Seriously,” Will said. “That was hot.”

  “Agreed,” said Burke. “Not smart, but hot.”

  “You worry too much,” said Will, sitting up. “I told you, it’s okay.”

  He leaned down and kissed Burke, his tongue teasing Burke’s. Burke resisted for a moment, then kissed him back. What are you doing? he asked himself. You know this is a bad idea.

  “What is it about this place?” Will asked when they broke apart. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

  “You too?” Burke said. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “It’s like time stopped or something,” said Will. He grinned. “Or maybe you just fucked me silly.”

  “Keep it up and I’ll do it again,” Burke threatened.

  “I’m ready when you are,” Will countered, pointing to his cock, which was already hard again.

  Burke groaned. “What are you trying to do, kill me?” he asked as he reached for Will’s prick. “Come here.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Will held the door open for Burke, then followed him into the library. Upon arriving home the previous afternoon, Burke had been surprised to hear that Sam Guffrey had left a message for him saying he’d found some information about Amos Hague. Will had once again offered to act as Burke’s driver, for which Burke was both thankful and pleased. It not only meant not having to ask his father for a ride to the library, but it gave him some more alone time with Will. After their unexpected lovemaking, Burke found himself wondering if perhaps—despite Will’s fears about accepting who he was—they might not be able to make something more out of their relationship.

  As they approached the circulation desk, Burke saw Sam’s gaze rest on Will for a moment before turning to him. He thought he caught in it a hint of appreciation of—or perhaps longing for?—the young man’s beauty.
Again, he found himself wondering what the librarian’s story was.

  “Hey, Sam,” he said. “Will, Sam Guffrey. Sam, Will Janks.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Sam.

  “Same here,” Will replied.

  Sam reached beneath the desk and pulled out a file folder, which he laid on the counter and opened. “After you left the other day, I started thinking about that letter,” he said. “The one Amos Hague wrote to Tess Beattie. I don’t know why I never made the connection before. I feel rather stupid about it now.”

  “What connection?” Burke asked.

  “William Holburne,” said Sam. “The young man Amos Hague writes about in the letter,” he added when Burke didn’t respond.

  “Right,” Burke said. “The one who died. What about him?”

  Sam slid a photograph across the counter. It showed a young man wearing a soldier’s uniform and carrying a rifle. “This is William Holburne,” he said.

  Burke picked the photo up and examined it more closely. William Holburne had a round, almost childlike face. His hair was on the longish side, and he was slight of frame. He looked weary but determined.

  It was interesting to see the young man Amos Hague had written to his fiancée about, but Burke didn’t understand what Sam had to feel foolish about.

  “William Holburne’s real name was Elizabeth Frances Walsh,” said Sam.

  “That dude’s a girl?” Will asked, taking the picture from Burke.

  Sam nodded. “It’s not really as surprising as it may seem. There are quite a number of incidents of young women enlisting in the infantry under assumed names. For the past couple of years I’ve been doing research about it on and off. Mostly off, which is why I didn’t immediately recognize William Holburne’s name. But that’s definitely him.”

  “Her,” Will corrected.

  Sam shook his head. “Technically, yes. But William Holburne is an unusual case. At least I believe he is.”

  He removed a handful of pages from the folder and spread them out. They were pages of what appeared to be a diary, written in a neat, compact hand.

  “These are pages from the journal of Elizabeth Frances Walsh,” he told Will and Burke. “Written when she was fifteen years old. What’s fascinating about the journal is that in addition to containing the usual teenage complaints about parents and boredom and whatnot, much of it is taken up with stories about a young man named William Holburne. William is the same age as Elizabeth, and he has all kinds of adventures. Most scholars believe these stories are simply that—tales made up by Elizabeth to amuse herself and possibly some younger brothers.”

  “That makes sense,” Burke said.

  “It does,” Sam agreed. “But when you read the William Holburne stories carefully, there’s something about them. I can’t quite explain it. It’s as if Elizabeth isn’t writing about someone else, but she’s writing about herself.”

  “Holburne’s not exactly an unusual name up here,” said Will. “I went to school with three of them myself.”

  “That’s true,” Sam agreed. “Which might also explain why Elizabeth chose it for herself. Besides, there are other similarities in the lives of Elizabeth and William in addition to the coincidence of the name. Elizabeth is reported to have died when she was sixteen. Supposedly she came down with a fever, wandered outside in the night in the middle of a snowstorm, and was never seen again. William Holburne enlisted in the Third Vermont Infantry the following spring.”

  “Are there records of William Holburne’s birth?” Burke asked.

  “No,” Sam answered. “But that isn’t at all unusual. As Will points out, there are a lot of Holburnes in Vermont. And a lot of enlistees falsified their papers. This is almost entirely speculation on my part.”

  “You sound pretty convinced,” Burke remarked.

  Sam nodded. “I am,” he said.

  “I don’t get the connection to Amos Hague, though,” Burke said. “Apart from William Holburne being mentioned in the letter to Tess, I mean.”

  “That’s where it gets interesting,” Sam said. “Well, more interesting. There’s no official record of William Holburne’s death.”

  “Is that unusual?” asked Burke.

  “Fairly,” Sam said. “They may have been disorganized about a lot of things during that time, but identifying the dead was of great importance, not only out of respect, but to ensure the proper administration of death benefits to the soldier’s surviving family. If William Holburne was killed in action, somebody would have recorded it.”

  “I’m still lost,” said Burke.

  “I think Amos Hague helped William Holburne disappear,” Sam told him.

  “Why would he do that?” asked Will.

  Sam shrugged. “Maybe he knew Elizabeth’s secret,” he suggested. “Or maybe he just wanted to help out a young man he thought didn’t belong fighting in a war. Again, this is all hypothetical.”

  “Where did the photograph of William Holburne come from?” asked Burke.

  “A woman named Tanya Redmond,” Sam said. “She had a box full of documents and photos that she found in her mother’s house when the old woman died last year. She didn’t know what they were, but she knew enough to bring them to me.”

  “And what’s her connection to Holburne?”

  “I’m not sure,” Sam said. “I haven’t had time to speak with her about that. The picture was one of maybe fifty or so, all of different people and places.”

  Burke asked, “Is she a local?”

  “She lives out on Parker Road,” Sam said. “Has a trailer set back about a quarter of a mile, near the creek.”

  “A trailer by the creek,” Burke said. “That’s a real white-trash mansion.”

  Will laughed, but Sam didn’t. “Tanya’s a nice woman,” he said. “She does the best she can.”

  Burke, chastened, cleared his throat. “Maybe I should pay her a little visit,” he said. “See if she knows anything about Amos Hague.”

  “I doubt it,” said Sam. “She didn’t seem to know anything about the papers and photographs when she brought them in. But I’ve been meaning to ask her about them myself. Mind if I come along?”

  Burke looked at Will, who said, “I’ve actually got to be getting back to help my dad. Any chance we can do this another day?”

  “I’ve got my car here,” said Sam. He looked at Burke. “If you like, I can drive us over to Tanya’s and then take you home.”

  “What about the library?” Burke asked.

  Sam snorted. “You’re the first ones to come in here since, well, the last time you came in here,” he said. “I think I can close for a couple of hours without the reading public of Sandberg being inconvenienced.”

  “What about your leg?” Will said suddenly.

  Burke looked at him. The young man had an expression of concern on his face. Burke, surprised and touched, laid a hand on Will’s arm. “I think I’ll be okay,” he said gently.

  “All right,” said Will. “But be careful. You know what the doctor said. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Burke almost expected Will to kiss him on the cheek before leaving, but he didn’t. He did, however, turn at the door and give Burke a good-bye wave.

  “He seems like a nice guy,” Sam remarked.

  Burke nodded. “His father and I grew up together.” Immediately he regretted sharing this information with Sam. But if Sam thought anything was strange about the situation, he kept it to himself.

  “My car’s out front,” he said, taking some keys from the counter. “I think we’ll be able to squeeze you in.”

  Burke followed him through the front door, which Sam left unlocked. “I’m expecting Ellie Peterbaugh to come in for her biweekly pickup of romance novels,” he explained. “She’ll just leave the old ones on the counter with the slips from whatever she takes this time. Besides, anyone who would break in is probably too stoned to notice the place is empty.”

  “Oh, the joys of small-town life,” Burke remarked as Sam opened
the door of a Subaru wagon that had seen better days.

  Sam helped him to sit, putting his hand under Burke’s arm and supporting him. Burke was surprised at how strong his grip was. For a small man, he held Burke steady with very little effort. “Everything in?” Sam asked, shutting the door after Burke nodded.

  “It was a car accident,” Burke said when Sam got behind the wheel.

  “Sorry?” said Sam.

  “A car accident,” Burke repeated. “That’s what banged me up. I swerved to avoid hitting a dog or something and ran off the road. I could tell you were wondering but didn’t want to ask.”

  “Actually, I wasn’t,” said Sam, “but I’m pleased to hear the dog is all right.”

  Burke didn’t know how to respond, so he stayed quiet as Sam started the car and pulled away from the curb. What made you think he wanted to know anything? he asked himself.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” Sam remarked after they’d driven a mile or so. “I did wonder what happened to you. I just wasn’t wondering it when you said you could tell that I was. That’s what I meant when I said I wasn’t.” He paused. “But I am pleased about the dog. I assume it’s all right.”

  “It might not have been a dog,” said Burke. “I honestly don’t remember. But I’m told I didn’t hit anything.”

  Sam nodded. “That’s good,” he said. “So you grew up around here?”

  “Yes,” said Burke, relieved to have something else to talk about. “I assume you didn’t.”

  “Why’s that?” Sam asked.

  “For one thing, you don’t have the accent,” Burke replied. “For another, we’re about the same age, and I probably would have heard of you if you’d grown up here.”

  “Both reasonable assumptions,” said Sam. “No, I didn’t grow up here. I’m from Montana.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who was actually from Montana,” Burke said.

  “That’s because both of us left as soon as we could,” said Sam. “And we tell everyone we’re from other places.”

  Burke laughed. “I take it you weren’t exactly excited about living there.”

  “It wasn’t a great place, no,” said Sam. “At least not for me. Conrad Burns, one of our former senators, once described Montana as ‘a lot of dirt between lightbulbs.’ Of course, he was also one of only two Republicans ever elected to the office, so he might have been a little bitter.”