by Sarina Bowen
“I know it hasn’t even been forty-eight hours,” he said quietly. “It’s going to take you a while to leave that place behind. I’m sorry. I should have waited. I’m just so tired of holding it all at bay.”
I really didn’t want him apologizing to me. I reached up, circling him in my arms, pulling him down beside me. “I love you.” I could say that without guilt. Because loving someone wasn’t a sin. Other things… sure. But love could never be a crime.
“Aw,” he whispered, curling into my body. “I love you, too. So much. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Except I sucked your dick instead.”
Pushing my face into his neck, I laughed. He kissed me on the ear. Then he nibbled my jaw. “Hang on a second,” he said, sliding off the bed. I heard him fumbling around in the backpack. He took out the water bottle and gulped some of it down.
“I expect you’d need that,” I muttered.
He tossed the bottle down and put a knee onto the little bed, looming over me. Then he put his wet mouth onto mine and kissed me long and hard. “Gonna be a lot of work, getting you over all your hang-ups,” he said. “But I’m just the man for the job. Now move over some.”
I rolled onto my side, facing the wall. He curled his bigger body around me, which felt ridiculously good. I pressed back against him, looking for even more contact. But then his very hard cock ended up between my ass cheeks.
He pushed his hips against me once, then groaned. “Okay. That’s a game for a different day.” Then he settled onto his back instead.
I swiveled, too, until I was facing him. Caleb put an arm around me, pulling me part-way on his body, my head on his shoulder. I draped one leg over his muscular one. But I was careful to say clear of his crotch. “I’m, um, sorry that you’re still…” I could not finish that sentence aloud.
“Horny?” he chuckled. “I’ve been horny my whole life. What’s one more night? Or ten.”
“Are you…” I cleared my throat. “A virgin?” Some of the boys weren’t, even though they were supposed to be.
“Of course. You’re the only one I ever wanted to fuck.”
And my face was on fire again.
“Remember when we were young, and I asked you to stand guard while I jerked?”
“I’ll never forget it.”
“Yeah? Well I was hoping to make a habit of it. I wanted you to play along. I don’t know. I think I wanted to ease you into the idea that we could have sex. But I freaked you out, didn’t I? You looked like you’d seen the devil.”
I groaned into Caleb’s shoulder. “I was hard for a month afterwards. I used to save up paper napkins from dinner so I’d have something to wipe up all my messes.”
Caleb snorted. “I’m pretty sure every boy who ever slept in that bunkhouse did the same thing. It’s just that they were thinking about the daughters when they yanked it.”
My head was now filled with the image of a dozen bachelors lying on their bunks stroking their penises. Naturally, mine began to harden against Caleb’s hip.
He rubbed my back. “You want me,” he said simply. “It’s just that you don’t want to want me.”
“I’ve always wanted you. And I’ve always tried not to.”
“What if you stopped trying?” He pinched my ass for emphasis. “Never mind. We have forever to think about this. Right now, we should sleep.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Do you want me to move?”
“No,” I said immediately, tucking my ear against his chest. “Don’t move. Not ever.”
He kissed me on top of the head.
It took awhile. But eventually Caleb’s breathing became long and even. I lay there for hours, filled with wonder, having no idea what was supposed to happen next. Nothing had ever felt better than lying in Caleb’s arms.
My whole life I’d wished for things. But I’d never known how confusing it might be to see my wishes come true. And then there was the problem of our complete destitution…
“Caleb,” I whispered softly.
“Mmm?”
“What’s going to happen to us?”
“Dunno,” he mumbled. “’Cept we’re going to stay together while we figure it out. No matter what.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“Sleep now,” he ordered.
So I did.
Seven
I WOKE UP BECAUSE Caleb rolled off the bed. At first, I thought he’d fallen. I shook off my sleep to peer over the edge to see if he was okay.
But he was already struggling into his jeans down there, and that was when I heard the sound of the truck’s door levering open. “Morning,” Washington’s voice called out.
“Morning,” I said quickly, to cover the sounds of Caleb’s fumbling.
“Everybody decent?” he asked.
“Mostly. Caleb, are my trousers down there with you?”
“Think so,” he mumbled, sounding sleepy. “Here.”
I threw my legs over the side and slid into them. “We’re good.”
Washington pulled himself into the cab and shut the door against the chill. “Ain’t the heater on? It’s cold in here again.”
“Not really,” I said quickly.
“Don’t think we needed it last night,” Caleb added.
My neck got hot. We did not, in fact, need the heater. Because we’d spent the night in each other’s arms. I was mortified by the idea. And yet I couldn’t wait to do it again.
Washington held out a card that read Motor Days Motel on it. “You two can have a shower. Room 302. Just make it quick.”
“Thank you sir,” Caleb said.
I followed him out of the truck.
* * *
Caleb and I each took a quick shower. I entirely avoided looking at his body during that fifteen minute stretch. Because I was still shocked by what we’d done. I had to tuck the idea of going to bed with Caleb away into a corner of my mind, if only to allow the rest of my brain to function properly.
We met Washington on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. “Okay, here’s the plan,” he said. “Josh and I are sittin’ down to breakfast. And you’re going to go into that little store…” he pointed a cocoa finger at a sign reading Pat’s Pawn Shop. “They’ll take that gun off your hands. You won’t get a lot of money for it, but you won’t be carrying an unlicensed gun around, either.”
“Okay,” Caleb said sheepishly.
“Whatever price they quote, you name a slightly higher one,” Washington said. “Say, aw come on. This is worth double. You should pay at least twenty five bucks more.”
Caleb grinned. “Good plan. Wish me luck.”
In the diner, Washington and I got a table, and I ordered breakfast for both Caleb and myself.
“You know what he likes, huh?” Washington asked, passing me the half and half for my coffee.
“Um…” I shrugged, my face hot. I felt different today. Marked. As if anyone could look at me and know what had happened between us last night. “There was never quite enough food where we lived, and we never got to choose anything. The two egg breakfast has bacon, anyway, which we don’t usually get. Not at breakfast, that’s for sure.”
Washington shook his head. “You can have two wives, but no bacon for breakfast.”
“The men who are married can have anything they want,” I corrected him. “The bachelors just take whatever the families send along. We did the work they told us to, and ate the food they felt like bringing us.”
“That is a bum deal,” Washington said.
“Yes sir, it is. It was.”
He grinned.
Caleb slid onto the bench beside me, also smiling. “Got $250. Maybe he ripped me off, but I’ll never know.”
“They make you sign a bunch of papers?”
“Yeah,” Caleb grunted. “If the gun was used in a crime, they could trace it back to the Compound. But it was only in that toolshed a couple of weeks. I don’t think there’s a risk.”
This time, when the breakfast
check came, Caleb did not bother to calculate our share. He just put down money for the whole thing. “Our treat,” he said. “It’s not much of a contribution, but…”
Washington shook his head and deposited a five dollar bill in front of Caleb. “You can’t treat until we get you sorted out. By tonight we’ll be in Albany. So it’s time for you to make a phone call.”
“We, uh…” Caleb looked sheepish. “Our friend is somewhere in Western Massachusetts. We’re just going to have to go there and look around.”
“We don’t know her number,” I clarified.
“Naw,” Washington protested. “That’s not how we do things in the twenty-first century. We can Google her. What’s the name?” He pulled out his phone. It had no buttons, only a slick shiny surface. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Hope her name’s not Jane Smith. If it’s something unusual, that helps.”
“It’s Magdalene, but she goes by Maggie. And her last name is Beaufort, unless she changed it.”
Washington winked at me. “There can’t be too many Magdalene Beaufort’s in New England. Spell it for me.” He tapped the letters into a little keyboard that appeared on the screen as Caleb spelled them out.
“Uh huh,” Washington said, and a smile spread across his face. “That’s right! I got a hit in Cheshire, Mass.”
Caleb snapped his fingers. “That’s it. I remember thinking that it sounded like something from Alice in Wonderland.”
Washington tapped on the screen a couple more times. “The name comes up on a website for a farm. It’s called the Runaway Dairy. Strange name for a farm.”
“She was a runaway, though,” I said. “I think that’s intentional.”
Washington took the last sip of his coffee. “You mean, she wants to be found?”
“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “She wants her family to find her if they need her.”
“Are you family?” Washington asked. “Because it’s time to make the call. The number is right here.”
I saw Caleb swallow hard. “I guess I’m about to find out if I’m family.” He put his palm out, and Washington tapped the screen one more time, then handed the phone over.
Caleb put the phone to his ear and closed his eyes.
Under the table I put my knee against his, and he pressed back against me. I waited, holding my breath.
“Uh, hello sir? I was hoping to speak to Maggie Beaufort?” He cleared his throat. “Yes, this is… a friend of her sister Miriam’s. Thank you, sir.” He looked sideways at me. “I think I just spoke to Maggie’s husband.”
“Wow.” My stomach bottomed out from nerves. What if she told us not to come?
“Maggie? This is Caleb Smith. Do you remember me?” An audible squeal came from the phone’s tiny speaker, and Caleb grinned. “I’m well! And you?” He listened for a minute, then took a deep breath. “So, I’ve left the Compound, and I’m with Joshua Royce. Do you remember h…?” Another squeal, and Caleb grinned. “We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you too bad, but were hoping you could help us get on our feet.”
As I watched Caleb, he put his head in his hand, dropping his eyes to the table. “That would be…” he choked on the words a little bit. “That would be great. Thank you, Maggie. You don’t know how much we… yeah. Okay. Thank you. We’ve got ourselves a ride toward Albany. From a trucker. A trucker we owe big. And he said we’d get there some time after midnight. Not sure how we’ll get to Massachusetts, yet.”
He blinked, and I saw that his eyes were glistening. I’m positive I never saw Caleb tear up before. “We thought about busses, but they’re pretty expensive… The route? I’m not sure. Hold on just one second.” He looked up at Washington. “What route are you taking? I’m sorry.”
Washington winked. “May I speak to your friend?”
Caleb handed over the phone.
“Good day, Miss Maggie,” Washington said, grinning. “I have two fine young men here who need a little help.”
I nudged Caleb. “What did she say?”
“She said they keep an extra room in their house, just hoping that somebody from the Compound turns up.”
“That’s… wow.”
“I know.”
“What about Fishkill, New York?” Washington was saying. “That’s right off 84. Uh huh. Exactly. Bunch of little hotels right there. Holiday Inn Express is one. It’s not a bad spot. I’ve stayed there. Okay. It’s a deal. Thank you, ma’am.”
He handed the phone back to Caleb. “Hello? Okay. In Fishkill? If you say so. I don’t know where that is.” He grinned. “Wow. Tomorrow morning. That’s amazing. Okay, Maggie. I can’t wait to see you. We’ll tell you everything we know. Thank you!”
He hung up, and then smiled. "They're going to drive down for us in the morning, after they milk the cows. It's two hours, so she said that would be about ten.”
Washington slapped the table and grinned.
I smiled too, because it was contagious. "Maggie has milkers? No way!" We were going to see Miriam's sister. And Massachusetts. And there was a room for people who needed a room.
Astonishing.
Caleb pushed his leg against mine again, and I’d never felt so optimistic in my life as I did right then.
* * *
I could barely tolerate that day’s ten hours of driving, because I just wanted to get there so bad. But Caleb was in a lively mood, sitting up front playing a guessing game with Washington. This came about when Washington had expressed dismay that Caleb and I had learned so little after the third grade. Caleb had joked that he wished there were a way to earn a living reciting the good book, because he and I could clean up.
So the two of them were trying to stump each other, and Caleb had just scored a point for: “my soul melteth for heaviness.”
Washington couldn’t guess it, so I called out “Psalm 119,” from the bunk.
“Eh,” Washington complained. “The King James version is the problem. I know that verse as ‘my soul is wasted with sorrow.’ Just figures that your people would pick the ugliest translation there is.”
It did, in fact, just figure.
About a year later (although I may be exaggerating) we finally exited the highway in Fishkill, New York. Washington pulled the truck over on the shoulder. “I’m not gonna be able to park at that hotel, boys. So Imma gonna say goodbye to you right now.” He fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a card. “This is my home address, and my cell phone number. You have a problem finding your friends, you call me. But I don’t expect that to happen. I do expect, however, to get a letter from y’all after you get settled.”
“Thank you, Washington,” I said quietly. “Thank you for saving us.”
“You boys gonna save yourselves. I just helped a little bit.”
“We do appreciate it, though,” Caleb said.
“I know.” He put the truck in gear. “See that sign lit up ahead? You’re going into the Holiday Inn. Maggie made a reservation in Caleb’s name. If you have any trouble, call me quick, so I’m not too far down the road when the phone rings.”
“We’ll be fine,” I assured him.
“I know it. Your friend Maggie sounded like the best kind of lady. Now you two get ready to hop out, before I get all emotional.”
Caleb laughed as the truck slowed to a stop on the street in front of the hotel. “We’ll write you,” he promised opening the door.
“You’d better.”
Caleb moved aside, which allowed me to jump down first. After a moment, he followed me. But I saw him drop something onto the seat before he slammed the big door.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Two hundred bucks from the pawn shop money,” he said.
“Sneaky.”
“Wish I had more to give him.”
So did I.
* * *
The hotel lobby was shinier than the other two hotels I’d seen on our journey. The woman behind the desk found our reservation right away. “Your room has been pre
-paid. Let’s see… we’ve assigned you number 112, which has two double beds.”
“Awesome,” Caleb said.
The discussion of beds gave me a twinge of discomfort. I was used to hiding my desires from the world. But now Caleb was my accomplice.
We were told where to find the restaurant, and that check-out time was noon. Then we went to find room number 112.
Eight
THE DOOR OPENED WITH a click. We walked inside, and Caleb shut it behind us. Then he leaned on the door and sighed. “How lucky are we?”
“So lucky that it cannot be measured,” I said, looking around the tidy room. I kicked off my shoes, and then thought better of it. “Should we go eat something? Are you hungry?”
Caleb gave me a wolfish grin. “Not for food.”
Oh. A dangerous tingle settled into my groin, just from the look on his face. I looked away. I took off my jacket, and stripped off my sweater. I was tired of wearing the same less-than-clean clothes. “Tomorrow we can do laundry, maybe,” I said. It wasn’t that I wanted to discuss laundry. But I was feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, now that I was alone in a bedroom with Caleb.
If Caleb had an opinion about laundry, I didn’t hear it. He walked over to one of the beds, yanking down the covers, exposing the sheets. Then he began to methodically remove all his clothes. He didn’t stop at the sweater, like I had. His shirt, T-shirt, jeans and socks all hit the deck.
I swallowed hard as he removed his boxers, tossing them aside. He lay down on his back, gloriously naked. I just stood there, while my mouth went dry and my dick went hard at the same time.
Caleb put a hand down to his semi-hard cock and gave it a slow stroke. Then he raised smoky eyes to mine and smiled. “Josh, I know you’re not as comfortable with the idea of touching me as I am with the idea of touching you. But I need to get off. I’ve been hard for twenty-four hours. Or twenty years, depending on how you count. So I’m going to take care of that problem whether you help or not.”