A Presidential Closet: Going Boldly Where No Gay Has Gone Before

by Amy Stranhouse

  Steve led them into the cave, just as the chopper was starting to reach them. The chopper continued to follow a straight flight path, indicating the four men had not been spotted entering the cave. Within minutes, the sound of whirling blades echoed from far in the distance.

  “We’ll remain here until it’s dark, then head back to the cliff.”

  ***

  The blanket of darkness began to wrap itself around the rocky ridge. Tiny pinpoints in the sky that would soon blossom into a million lanterns, shone in concert with a bright full moon that was finally ready to manifest its glory.

  The chopper still echoed in desperate waves around the forest, its spinning blades incessant in seeking four men that had up to now, frustrated a sheriff’s determined efforts in finding them.

  “Let’s go,” Steve commanded. “Under the cover of darkness, if we stay close to the walls of trees, the branches should keep us undetected from above.”

  They followed Steve out of the cave and under a winding row of thick, century old birch, their snow covered branches, the perfect camouflage for the nervous joggers that trotted single file under an ever brightening moon.

  In the far distance arose sounds of desperate searchers, beating the bushes for men that had not ventured forward into the forest as they had supposed. Instead, the four had remained close to the sheer cliff, which facilitated their ascent to the ridge.

  There were only sounds of dogs clamoring to be set loose on the front side. On the back side there were neither wisps of curling smoke from searchers fires, nor the outline of makeshift tents to accommodate the sheriff’s expert deputies.

  Steve’s plan to hold their ground, and not march much deeper into the forest was now paying dividends. He led the other three to the back side of the sheer cliffs, and noted with a relieved smile, that the descent down the other side would be far easier than the treacherous rock face that had gotten them there in the first place.

  They scurried down the cliff side, with Zeldon and Joey keeping close to Steve. Anton was tired, and lagged a considerable distance behind, his long flowing black hair, waving like a gorgeous flag in the soft flowing breeze.

  Steve made it to the bottom first and was immediately gratified that there were no deputies or dogs stationed there. Zeldon jumped onto the grass and gave Steve a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. Joey was right behind him, and turned to urge Anton to hurry up.

  Anton did as he asked, moving his feet quicker down the slippery rock. He had a rifle slung over each shoulder and a canvas bag strapped to his back. As he spun from facing the rock to his side, to descend much quicker, one of the rifles slipped off his shoulder. He reached down to grab the falling rifle before it could slide off his arm. He managed to keep it from falling, but his forward lunge caused his feet to slip. He plunged down to the ground, landing badly on his ankle.

  “Shit! I think I broke it.”

  “Are you sure?” Steve asked, moving next to him and gently touching it so see if there was any pain.

  “Fuck! Careful! That hurts.”

  “Damn, it sounds like it’s broken, that’s for sure,” Steve agreed.

  “Looks like it too,” Joey seconded, staring at a foot that was insidiously twisted to a point that made it almost a certainty the bone had snapped and severed. “That’s quite a break, I think. You really should be more careful, Anton. There was no need for you to have fallen like that. It’s not like you were being chased or anything.”

  “Weren’t you the one urging me to hurry? Anyways, should of, could of, would of. That’s all under the bridge now,” Anton declared. “All I know is that I’m in some real mind blowing pain here. Fuck! Maybe you should just leave me here.”

  “Don’t be crazy, Anton,” Joey insisted. “If they find you here, it only means they will stop searching up there, and then come after us. They could be up there for days, wasting valuable time while we make our escape.

  “We’ll have to carry him,” Steve said, adding a frustrated sigh.

  “I think it will be better,” Anton said, “if you will help me up to stand on my good foot, and then let me put an arm around your shoulders. That way I can hobble forward without slowing you all down too much.”

  Steve and Joey did as he asked, taking an arm around each shoulder and helping him to hop forward.

  “Maybe we can make it to the road and then steal a car or, well, we’ll come up with a way to put some real distance between us and them.”

  The road was only twenty minutes away, and when they got there, Steve noted that there weren’t many cars traveling along it. It was fairly deserted. There were, however, three empty cars parked along the shoulder of the road. They obviously belonged to either campers who were spending the night in the woods, or couples, gone to make out under a bright seductive moon

  Steve and Joey sat Anton down on a tree stump.

  Steve then picked up a rock and hurled it through the window of the first vehicle. He checked under the visor for possible spare keys but found none.

  “I can hot wire a car,” Joey boasted, slipping past Steve before sliding into the driver’s side seat. He smacked the steering column a few times with the butt of his rifle until the plastic covering snapped off. Then he tied two wires together that suddenly made the car engine roar to life.

  “Great job, Joey.”

  Zeldon opened the back door and then all three carefully laid out Anton across half of the back seat.

  “I don’t think this is going to work,” Zeldon said with a sigh.

  “What are you talking about?” Steve asked.

  “Well, for one thing, once the car is reported stolen, they will probably conclude we’re in it. They’ll be looking for this car everywhere.”

  “I see your point,” Steve said with a sigh. “Wait a minute, I know. Let’s switch license plates with the car behind it. It’ll buy us some time. A day, maybe two, then, when we’re far enough away, we can ditch the car so they’ll never find it or us.”

  They did as Steve asked, and switched the license plates with the vehicle up front.

  “There is something else to consider,” Zeldon spoke up.

  “What is it now?” Steve asked wearily.

  “Well. In a few days, when we change back to stags, if Anton’s bone is actually severed, then it won’t transform properly. Changing from a foot to a hoof will leave him with a deformed leg. He won’t be able to move about or even stand on it.”

  “Let’s see if we can get him some medical treatment.”

  “It won’t matter,” Zeldon countered. “If the bone is cracked or snapped apart, a few days will not be enough time to heal.”

  “He’s right,” Joey spoke up.

  “Well that’s great! Just fucking great! So what do we do now, then, toss him onto the side of the road? Stop being so negative! We can at least put a splint on it. Maybe it will be alright, but if not, we’ll worry about it then. Why burden ourselves with all this negativity now? Come on, let’s go.”

  ***

  They drove for two days before finally reaching Yellowstone National Park, in the State of Wyoming. They had only stopped twice during the long drive. The first time was to buy supplies with the hunter’s money, and to put a splint on Anton’s leg, to keep it straight. Their hope was that the bone was still intact, and that it would heal on its own. The second time they’d stopped, was to rest up at a cheesy motel, and to buy booze, especially for Anton, who was is formidable pain and taking on a fever from a possible infection lurking within his ankle bandages.

  They made a crude wooden hammock and dragged Anton a day’s journey deep into the bush, where they found a secluded campsite where Wyoming straddles Montana’s border. They buried their stuff in a long abandoned old well, covering it with stones, and hunkering down for the night. The four men were nervous but happy. They had made it to the park, a place where no hunting was ever allowed. There, they could change back into deer and not fear catching a rifle’s bullet. They had also traveled deep i
nto the wilderness, to a spot where tourists rarely ventured.

  “Do you think my leg will transform okay, tonight?” Anton asked.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But the important thing is, that we’ll be here with you, to help make you as comfortable as possible. I guess what I’m really trying to say, is that you won’t be alone.”

  Anton smiled as best he could. “Thanks for not abandoning me guys.”

  It was now late afternoon, and the fifth full moon night had taken place on the previous evening. It was now time to become deer again.

  “Just a few more hours,” Joey whispered, holding Anton’s hand.

  “Do you think my leg will transform okay?”

  “You already asked that, just a moment ago,” Joey said, trying to smile.

  “That’s right, I did, didn’t I. But you guys didn’t really give me much information about it.”

  “We can’t tell you what we don’t know, what we’re uncertain of.”

  “Make love to me,” Anton whispered. “Whatever happens, I at least want to feel you in my arms once again.”

  “He’s right, you know,” Zeldon said to Steve. “With all this running from hunters, and the law, we’ve never really made much time for each other. After tonight, it’ll be twenty five days till we change back to human. We should make love one last time, before the change comes.”

  “We can always make love as stags,” Steve managed, clearly exhausted both mentally and physically.

  “It’s not the same and you know it,” Zeldon said in a frustrated tone. “Oh what’s the use! I can’t believe I have to beg the supposed man of my dreams to hump me.”

  Steve turned and saw Anton’s lips being covered by Joey’s hot, anxious mouth. Except for Anton’s bandages, the two of them were completely naked under a bright blue sky. It made him suddenly viciously horny.

  Steve let his hands rest on Zeldon’s muscular shoulders. He was certainly gorgeous. He peppered his cheeks, chin and nose with a flurry of playful kisses.

  Zeldon made his trembling fingertips run along Steve’s rippling abs. “I’ve always loved you.”

  “And I’ve always loved me too,” Steve mused.

  Zeldon slapped him playfully on the ass.

  Steve pulled him close and their chests met, grinding gently as Zeldon pulled off first, his own underpants, and then Steve’s.

  “You’re really hard,” Zeldon whispered, his hands firmly gripping Steve’s round bum cheeks.

  The two couples made love for the next two hours, until the shadow of approaching evening began to play at the fringes of brilliant, bright blue.

  “You were amazing tonight,” Joey offered. “You humped me like it was going to be your last day on earth.” Joey immediately regretted the words as they sailed out of his mouth, but it was too late to reign them in now. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it how it sounded, Anton. I’m sure you’ll be alright.”

  “I’m sure I will be too,” Anton lied, feeling the pain in his ankle throb unbearably. The bone was definitely snapped in two somewhere.

  An almost imperceptible shade of purple began to settle in the sky, and the startling howl of a grey wolf echoed past their nervous ears, as it tried to solicit a mate for the onslaught of evening.

  “It’s started,” Steve whispered, feeling his fingers begin to mesh together as his nose and jaw stretched further forward.

  The skyline of dark purple now gave way to a sudden blackness, that was easily infiltrated by a smattering of blazing stars and a moon not quite as full as the five previous nights. Instead, a waning gibbous moon reared its defiant head, challenging the four to even try to stop a transformation that was now in mid-stream.

  Hair now flowed along Joey’s back and sides, but his suddenly large, glazed brown eyes remained fixed on Anton, his rock hard antlers growing from the top of his skull. He could no longer speak, signaling he was instantly regaining his ability to communicate with his thoughts. How do you feel?

  Anton smiled back at him. So far so good.

  Power now surged throughout their legs as the final stages of the transformation took place.

  Insidious yelps, depicting mind blowing pain, now emerged cruelly from Anton’s lips. I spoke too soon, he transmitted into Joey’s mind.

  The sickening sound of a severed leg bone, penetrating flesh, was met with a new chorus of howling yelps from Anton’s lips.

  The transformation was now complete, but the sight of an anklebone, poking through a bloodied leg, turned all four stomachs.

  Anton tried to put some weight on it, but it gave way immediately, sending him crashing on his side, to a patch of snow on the moss covered ground.

  The three standing stags watched him sadly, just lying on the cold, unforgiving ground, writhing in agony.

  Blood dripped out of the gaping wound.

  A second round of howls now permeated the chilly silence, tearing a strip off all their nerves. The grey wolf pack was a lot closer than Steve had originally thought.

  They lowered their antlers and noses to gently prod Anton’s suffering body, letting him know they loved him and wanted to comfort him.

  The first set of wolves suddenly appeared, their shiny grey coats shimmering under a million stars. Steve counted six in all. The first two surrounded Steve and charged at him, trying to back him away from the defenseless Anton. At first he tried to hold his ground, aiming at them with sharp, sturdy antlers, but their teeth and claws nipped at his deer flesh, driving him back.

  Four more wolves emerged from the thick brush. Two squared off against Joey and two against Zeldon. Zeldon had already moved toward Steve in an attempt to help him, but was now buffeted by two sneering wolves of his own, that coaxed him away from the love of his life. Joey charged the two that were now trying to force him away from Anton, injuring one with his pointy antlers.

  Another four wolves suddenly leapt out of the brush, their fangs bared as they began to bite furiously into the fallen Anton. Joey made a charge at them, but a lone wolf behind him jumped onto his side, biting deep into his flesh, warning him to back off or become the pack’s next meal.

  He limped away, then all ten wolves suddenly converged on Anton, their fangs tearing at his throat and kicking limbs. Within seconds he was dead, and the three remaining stags reluctantly trotted off, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the ferocious wolves as they possibly could.

  Joey continued to cry for hours afterwards, while Steve was consumed with guilt. Ever since he had killed Crandon, the herd had been cut down even further from six to three in less than a week. As sadistic and cruel a leader as Crandon was, at least they had always managed to stay alive under his leadership. Steve knew the same could not be said for his own, ill fated guidance. Still, the other two did not pass any thoughts his way that might be construed as anger or bitterness at him having taken over the helm. They only wondered out loud, what would be their next move.

  The wind now swirled with more fervor, garnering clumps of ice and dried twigs that whipped off their saddened faces as they marched over the bleak, snow covered terrain. Steve was determined to let them rest once they reached a spot that gave them respite from the bruising winds.

  We’ve gone far enough. Let’s rest.

  Steve’s declaration did not fall on deaf minds. Instead, they stopped in their tracks, their bodies suddenly sheltered from the brutal winds by a rising hillside to their right, and a wall of towering ash trees to their left.

  I’ll miss my darling Anton, Joey thought to the others, his mind awash with the memories of someone who had never failed to make his heart sing.

  The cover of darkness was getting ready to lift. A million stars shone in unison for the last time that day, as a rising sun poked determinedly onto the once blackened landscape. The three were now famished, their bellies intimidated with a gnawing hunger that made their mouths salivate at the shadowy sight of yellow birch seedlings poking up through the snow.

  They devoured growth off the seedling
s, then munched on some scatterings of brambles. Every so often they would raise their heads to a passing group of deer, and listen to the snarls of other stags, who assumed the three rogues would anxiously want to contend for their harem of does.

  Foxes also scurried past, searching out tiny mice and berries that might serve as a tantalizing breakfast.

  Steve used the unfolding light of day to scan for preferred trees that might offer a viable nourishment. His delighted eyes latched onto a cluster of white pine and red maples, their branches waving welcome in the gentle breeze. Other deer were also scavenging the branches for dry twigs and leftover leaves. There were, however more than enough trees to go around, and the three feasted heartily without incident.

  You think you’ll be able to find the way back to where we buried our stuff when the time comes?

  The question was directed at Steve, but posed by Zeldon, who was one to worry over every detail.

  Steve didn’t have to think before answering. We only need to follow the meandering stream back to the hillside and heavy woods. Once we emerge from there, it’s almost a straight line to the small cavern that we buried our stuff in.

  A handful of tourists, wide-eyed and excited at having seen an old faithful geyser erupt the day before, now took pictures of the feeding deer as they frolicked amongst the trees.

  Joey sighed happily at the sight. It was nice to see humans chase deer with cameras instead of high powered rifles.

  Wow! Is that stag ever cute!

  The voice accosted Joey’s mind. He could tell someone was thinking of him, but that someone would have to be endowed with special thought transmitting powers.

  Joey supposed that Steve or Zeldon had uttered the thought as a playful compliment. He stared at his two comrades, thinking out loud, okay, which one of you said that?

  Steve gave Joey a puzzled glance, letting him know he hadn’t sent the thought.

  Zeldon also nodded from side to side, somewhat apprehensive that thoughts from a strange stag’s mind were floating around.

  I wouldn’t mind humping him, or better yet, letting him climb on board me with that giant cock of his!