by Rob Rosen
But Josie didn’t go no slower. He just kept pounding, face screwed up and red, eyes closed up tight.
“Feels good, Zeke. Nice ’n’ tight. Not like no cow.”
I was bent over against a fence post by the creek, pants down, Josie ramming up into me, like to split me open. He went deep and I screamed.
“Hush! Someone’ll hear!”
“It hurts!”
“You wanted it.”
Yeah. I’d waited weeks for Josie to give in, to put his cock in my ass, but as he set to fucking me harder, it was the worst pain I’d ever felt—worse’n a hundred hickory switches.
Still, guess my cock’s got a mind of its own. Josie started to throb, filling me with seed, and I shot everywhere: into the creek, on my pants, everywhere.
When he pulled out, I took off my pants to wash them in the creek. Couldn’t leave no signs for Ma to see. She’d whip me raw if she knew I’d been getting fucked by a boy, that I’d been sucking his cock every day for a month now. Slipped off my shirt, too. Figured we could swim. But when I turned around, Josie was already dressed.
“Aw, can’t I see ya naked?”
“Hell no! Oughtta stay away from you, ya dang fairy.” He was suddenly angry. “Ain’t doin’ this again. People’s already sayin’ yer queer. I don’t want ’em sayin’ it about me.”
“Don’t care what anyone says, Josie.” I took a deep breath. “I love you.”
His jaw dropped. He stepped toward me. I thought he was finally gonna kiss me, like I dreamed about; instead, he swung at me.
Josie’s fist caught my jaw and I fell on my bare ass into the creek, tasting blood.
Josie pulled out his knife, a Cherokee knife with a bone handle and a gray iron blade. His dad gave it to him, and he was real proud of it. He waved it in my face. “Don’t you never say that again, y’hear? It’s unnatural! Yer sick, Ezekiel. Tetched. You’ve led me to sin against God. Glad I’m gettin’ away from you.”
I swallowed. “You’re really gonna leave?”
He slashed the air with the knife, like he was gutting an imaginary bear. “Yep. Cornwallis is closer every day. He’ll burn our houses to the ground, kill our families. I ain’t lettin’ that happen. I’m joinin’ the militia.” He pointed the knife at me. “But you, you’re a fairy coward, ain’t ya?”
“You know I can’t leave Ma.”
“Yer pa upped and died ’cause he couldn’t stand the sight of your fairy ass.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Go ahead. Let the British take whatever they want. You’d probably like them British boys’ fancy red coats. Drop yer pants and bend right over for ’em.”
“I only do that for you, Josie, ’cause—”
“Not another word, fairy!” He spat on me. The boy I loved and gave myself to, spat on me and left me sitting in the cold water to cry. It was August, hot, but I shivered. Shivered in the bright summer sun.
“He had you.”
I looked up, startled at the voice. It weren’t daylight; it was dark. And it weren’t August, but October. This was the Mountain Witch’s cabin. I’d come for answers, and she’d given me some awful drink, made me see things—memories.
The old woman touched the seat of my pants with knuckles so gnarled they looked like an old shoe chewed by a dog. “He had you here.”
My asshole began to throb, like Josie were still inside it. That was weeks ago.
“There was pain,” she said.
“Awful pain.”
“Sometimes love is pain. Sometimes pain is just…pain.” Something warm and wet touched my chest. The witch painted me with blood.
“What—?”
“Blood seeks blood,” she said. “Blood tells.”
I didn’t ask where she got the blood, just: “Tells what?”
“The fate of him made your blood hot. Josiah is dead.”
She said it just like that. Like it weren’t nothing. Like you’d say, it’s raining.
My throat closed up. I just managed, “No.”
“Dead. A month gone.”
“Liar! Knowed you was a fraud!” I couldn’t believe it. Josie dead? Just because this old crone said so?
“He weren’t meant for you. Didn’t love you.”
“Huh? Who are you to say—?”
“There’s another, waiting. Meant to be yours and you his. A boy from far away.”
I started to say I didn’t know no such boy.
“Close your eyes.”
“No,” I said.
She rapped her gnarled walking stick against the floorboards with a snap like a rifle shot.
It spooked me. I minded.
“Keep ’em shut. Look at the fire. What do you see?”
Seemed silly, looking with my eyes closed. But there was this glow t’other side of my eyelids. “There’s…orange light.”
“Look into it.”
A shadow appeared, the shadow of a young man. He stepped forward, all bathed in fire. The orange cooled-like, to blue, shimmered like water. The boy weren’t no shadow anymore. He was lit, like by the sun sparkling on the creek, like he was underwater. He was naked, perfect, his hair also like the sun, eyes like new spring leaves.
I wanted him. Wanted to touch him, feel his skin, kiss him. He smiled at me and then washed away.
I opened my eyes.
“How—?”
“He’s waiting,” said the Witch.
“But Josie—!”
“Love is pain.” She pointed to the door. “Now git. Leave me.”
I walked to the creek, where Josie and I had swam and played and fucked. Josie was dead. I’d guessed it before she even said it. He couldn’t write much, but I knew he’d have wrote something by now if he were alive. Least to his ma and pa. He’d not.
All because he’d went to war. “I’uz born to be a warrior. “ He’d say it while I sucked his dick and then he’d crow like an Indian brave and blow his seed down my throat.
I didn’t want to be no warrior. Just wanted to fuck some ass or get fucked, even if it hurt. When I dreamt of being with another boy, him riding me, dick in my ass, it never hurt. Not in my dreams.
It hurt with Josie, but not half as much as it hurt him calling me “fairy.”
I was of age to marry, but Pa died before he could tell me what husbands and wives done together. I learned by watching animals: cows and horses. They fucked in front of me. Didn’t have secrets, not like people.
Cows is ugly, though. Their big, saggy teats turned my stomach. Girls was scarce in these hills. Only woman I’d seen naked was Ma. She had big, saggy teats, too. Didn’t ever learn to get horny for no girls. But I seen myself naked, and other boys, too. I liked our bodies. Smooth and sleek. No saggy bits, ’cept the dick. And that stopped sagging if you treated it right. If I’uz going to fuck, I wanted to fuck someone who looked like that.
But my someone was gone.
I set with my feet in the creek and cried. Miserable as I was, the water felt good. I stripped and jumped in.
Behind me came a splash; someone was jumping in with me. I tried to turn, but an arm hooked my neck, locked my head in place. Something cold scraped my throat, sharp like a knife.
“Don’t move,” said a voice, all weak and raspy.
But I did move. I twisted and saw that the blade against my neck was strapped to a rifle. A bayonet.
He tightened his grip like to strangle me, but he didn’t have the strength. I got my hand where it could protect my throat from the blade. Better cut fingers than a cut throat.
I used to wrestle Josie. Never won, but got lots of practice. I elbowed this feller hard, then threw him off balance and into the creek. Then I stood ready to fight, but realized the poor bastard was passing out.
Well, I couldn’t let him bash out his brains on the rocks. I caught him and stood him up. He was smeared with mud, all blackish brown, but there were patches of red in his coat. A British soldier.
He was dead weight in my arms. I eased him down and slapped his face to rouse him. “You’re half-killed! When�
��d you eat last?”
He tried to swallow, winced, shook his head.
“You’re in no shape to fight. What got into you?”
“K-kill you…before…kill me.” His voice was weak. I had to lean close.
“I wouldn’t kill anyone, even a redcoat. Hell, I cain’t even let you starve. Let’s get you washed, hide that coat, and I’ll take you home and feed you.”
I peeled off his clothes. They were caked with mud, and he was limp like a rag doll. He was no bigger’n me and bony. What was he doing here with no British regiment nearby?
I helped him into the water, almost forgetting we were both naked. He was so dirty you couldn’t tell, ‘cept for white spots where his clothes had been. The dirt ran off in streaks. The water got cloudy with mud. Then I looked down and saw his reflection.
My heart jumped. It was him. The boy from the Witch’s vision.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Bath, England. I was with Lord Cornwallis. I was…sepa-rated.” Them bright-green eyes were suddenly guilty looking.
“You run, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “After the first battle…all those men killed…the blood. I just…started walking.”
A deserter. Tories, those men still loyal to the crown, would shoot him if they found him alive. Patriots’d shoot me for helping him. He was my enemy. But, stripped of his uniform, naked flesh under my hands, he didn’t seem like no enemy.
I knelt to wash his legs, his manhood in my face. It weren’t near as small as he was; it was standing up to greet me.
His face was red. Was he…like me?
“Even that’s covered in dirt,” I said. I took a deep breath and set to washing him there. He jumped at the cold water, but got harder when I touched him. I rubbed off dirt, gentle-like. I reckon I rubbed a little longer than I needed to. He moaned, but he didn’t stop me.
“If you don’t wash careful here, it gets sore.” I worked his foreskin back and forth, running my finger over the head, teasing. He shivered with excitement. I felt brave enough to try more.
“Looks clean, but my friend Josie showed me how to make sure.”
I took him into my mouth, like I done for Josie all those times. I ran my tongue over his cock and sucked at it, like a calf at a teat. I was afraid he’d shove me away, but he took hold of my shoulders and pushed forward, pumping into my mouth. I couldn’t swallow all of him, but he was easier on me than Josie ever was. Didn’t last long, neither. I tasted him, hot and salty, on my tongue.
“Reckon you’re clean now.”
For the first time, he smiled. It was a good smile. He had all his teeth and they was mostly straight.
“Let’s get you fed.” I got us dressed and walked him home, an arm around his shoulders.
Ma didn’t take to me bringin’ no stranger home, but she softened when she heard Duncan was a soldier, wounded, left for dead. Duncan Forsyth was his name. I only knew because Ma asked. Ain’t it funny? Here was a boy just spunked in my mouth, and I hadn’t asked his name.
We bedded down in the loft. Ma don’t sleep there, can’t climb the ladder. Duncan didn’t manage too well, neither. I had to help him up. It weren’t just hunger or exhaustion; something had shaken him bad, hurt his soul.
“Sorry I don’t got an extra nightshirt,” I said as we undressed.
He shrugged. “At school we often slept without clothes.”
“We’ll blow out the candle. It won’t matter none.” I pulled off my pants and left myself naked. “T’aint fair, me havin’ a nightshirt and you not.”
Duncan gave the tiniest smile, then took off his own clothes. In the candle glow, he looked like an angel, lit with heavenly light. I studied the white smoothness of his chest, like an ivory sculpture. Tiny pink nipples, smaller’n mine. Not much muscle. Reckon he was a city boy. The hair on his cock was reddish gold and caught the candle’s flicker.
I wanted him. Not like I wanted Josie. I wanted to hold Duncan, to protect him. I felt like I was the strong one now, where before I’d always been the weak.
After three days, Duncan was strong enough to make it up the ladder hisself, and he started helping with chores. We didn’t fool around. I figured he was too weak. I’d play with myself at night, Duncan, warm and naked, asleep with his back to me.
The fourth night, we lay awake, talking. All of a sudden, Duncan says, “It was kind of you to take me in. You shouldn’t feel obligated to a coward.”
“Ain’t cowardly, not wanting to watch people die. Wish Josie had run away.”
“Josie?”
“My friend. He went to war. He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Was it Josie who taught you…what we did the other day?”
“Yeah. We done a lot together, things people say are wrong.”
“It…didn’t feel wrong.”
For a minute, we were quiet, and I swear we each knew what the other was thinking.
I reached for him in the pitch black, put my mouth to his. He was surprised at first, but he opened his lips a little and just sort of melted them into mine. Our teeth scraped, which made us laugh. But when his tongue accidentally caught mine, I thought I’d done died and gone to Heaven.
Josie never let me kiss him.
Duncan’s cock was hard against me. I reached down and stroked it. It jumped under my hand. He was close already.
He grabbed my hand and gasped, “I…I want—”
“I know,” I said. “I want it, too. I want it bad.”
I flipped onto my stomach and arched my back. I knew it would hurt, but I still wanted it. Something tickled me. Something was going into my hole, warm and wet.
“What ya doing?”
“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted—”
“Oh, I want you to fuck me all right. Just, well, no one ever stuck his fingers in my hole.”
“How do you loosen up? Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Yeah…a lot.”
He leaned in, kissed me. “It needn’t.”
He worked his finger in slow. I started to buck and beg for more. Then he done two fingers. It stung, but I got used to it, pushed back, driving them into me as deep as they would go. Not enough.
My body asked for more all on its own. Right quick I felt his big cockhead stretch my hole. I gritted my teeth, expecting pain, but he slipped inside me. It didn’t hardly hurt.
Duncan held still, rubbing my back while I got comfortable. “Is this all right?” he asked.
I grunted, not in pain, but just because there was so much feeling.
“Please…fuck me!”
And he done fucked me, hard and fast as Josie ever did. Harder. But still no pain. He was hot and sweaty against me, his breath warm in my ear and blowing across my face.
He yelped and I felt warmth inside me. It set me over the edge. I spewed and covered the blankets with more than I’d ever shot before.
I rolled to my side, Duncan spooning against me.
“Where’d you learn that?” I asked, “using your fingers ’n’ all?”
“School. Boys bugger each other at school.”
“Never been,” I allowed. I stroked his cheek. “Did you like… that?”
He squeezed me tight. “So much. And I love this. Just holding you. I feel warm and—just safe. I haven’t felt safe since England.”
“You’re safe. No one can hurt you.”
He snuggled in and kissed me. “You are my savior, Ezekiel.”
We fell asleep all curled up together, me and Duncan.
Me and the boy I was fated to find.
I woke to nature’s call, Duncan still wrapped around me. I gently pried him loose, rolling out from under the blankets, naked, morning’s chill a shock after spending the night warmed by his body.
“Ow!” I’d rolled onto something hard and cold. It dug into the small of my back. I reached under and pulled it out into daylight.
Duncan grinned. “Sorry. I forgot that was in
my pocket.”
He forgot.
But I couldn’t forget. Never. Not the feel of it in my hand, the glint of it in the light. Disbelieving, I held it afore me. At first I closed my eyes, didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to know what it had to mean.
“What’s wrong?” asked Duncan.
I had to open my eyes, let them see what my fingers already told me. I was holding a knife.
Josie’s knife.
“Where’d you get this?” My throat was almost too closed up to talk.
“Charlotte. The battlefield.”
“It’s Josie’s.”
Duncan went pale. “I…I didn’t know, I…”
I forced myself to say the awful thing it had to mean. “You… you killed him, didn’t you?”
I crawled over, grabbed his face, made him look at me.
“Didn’t you?”
He was mute. Helpless. Like an animal that knows it’s about to be eaten alive.
I punched him in the chest. “You killed him!”
He coughed. “I…I didn’t mean to.”
I pressed the knife against him. “I should cut your fucking throat!”
Eyes wide, he raised his chin, showing his throat.
“Do it,” he sobbed. “Please.”
So help me, I thought about it. About what it would feel like to dig the point in, tear his flesh, open his veins.
He whispered, “Please.”
But I couldn’t. I flung the knife into the eaves and then I punched him, over and over. Tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t see what I was doing.
“Land sakes, what’s going on up there?”
I’d forgot Ma was downstairs, forgot she was alive at all. I didn’t answer. I put on pants and near fell down the ladder. I ran out into the cold of morning, cutting my bare feet on stones, not caring. I ran deep into the woods, away from the house, away from Ma, away from the boy.
The boy I was fated to find.
“Well? What d’ye want now?”
I didn’t answer the Witch. Couldn’t. Just stood at her door, the knife in my hands like some kinda offering.
She snatched it. Looked it over. “This was Josie’s.”
“Yes.”
“How’d you get it?”
“From the boy. The boy you showed me…before.”
“The boy you gave yourself to last night.”
