The Road Home Read online

  He picked up the first one. It was Watership Down. He couldn’t remember ever having read it, but maybe he had, although he couldn’t imagine why he would want to read a novel about rabbits. The second was Dune, which he had read half a dozen times and was in no hurry to read again. This left the third book, which he hoped would be more appealing than the first two.

  When he saw the cover, he just about dropped the book. The picture showed a handsome, dark-haired man in a bathing suit, sitting on a yacht. Behind him stood another man in a swimsuit, his hand on the first man’s shoulder. A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice in front of them. The title was Now Let’s Talk About Music.

  Burke hadn’t seen the Gordon Merrick novel since he’d hidden it beneath the sweatshirts in his dresser drawer almost twenty-five years before. In fact, he could have sworn he’d thrown it away. But here it was, and it appeared to be the same well-used copy. He didn’t want to know how it had ended up on the bedside table.

  He opened the novel. Before long he was caught up in the erotic adventures of Gerry Kennicutt as he traveled to Bangkok in search of love. Merrick’s sex scenes were frequent and detailed, and Burke found himself with an erection, which pressed painfully against his underwear. Just like when you were fifteen and reading this, he thought.

  He still remembered finding the book at a Waldenbooks during a shopping trip to Burlington with his mother. Burke was about to start his sophomore year, and they were in search of school clothes. At some point he had escaped his mother and made his way to the bookstore, where he’d looked to see if there were any Douglas Adams books he hadn’t read yet. The covers of the Merrick novels had caught his eye, and he’d picked one up. As soon as he’d figured out what it was about, he’d put it down and walked quickly to another section, sure that his burning cheeks were giving him away. But after fifteen minutes of pretending to look at Tom Clancy novels, he’d gone back to the Merrick novel and, before he could talk himself out of it, taken it to the checkout counter. There a male clerk had rung up the purchase and, with a knowing smile, tucked the paperback into a bag. “Enjoy it,” he’d said to Burke.

  And he had enjoyed it. Many times. It was the first time he’d ever read descriptions of two men having sex. The first time he’d read through the novel, it had taken a week, at the end of which his cock was rubbed raw, the floor beneath his bed was littered with crumpledup tissues, and his head was filled with images that kept him awake at night.

  Now he again found himself playing with his erect dick, stroking it as he imagined Gerry Kennicutt and the equally handsome Ernst von Hallers fucking on the floor of the yacht. He hadn’t jacked off since being in the hospital, afraid that it might somehow exacerbate his injuries, but now he didn’t care. He hiked his T-shirt up, exposing his belly and chest, and felt himself getting close.

  Then, from downstairs, he heard the sound of squeaking. This was followed by a soft thud, and soon he distinguished a distinct rhythm. Squeak-squeak-thud. Squeak-squeak-thud. It took him a moment to realize what it was.

  They’re fucking, he thought. Dad and Lucy are fucking in Mom and Dad’s bed.

  Once he’d identified the sound, it was impossible to ignore. His parents’ room was beneath his, and the sounds were coming up through the floor. Squeak-squeak. That’s the bedsprings. Thud. That’s the headboard hitting the wall. He had a sudden, and unwelcome, mental image.

  Immediately he let go of his cock, which was rapidly deflating. His balls, confused by his having stopped so close to achieving their objective, urged him to continue for just a little longer. But the moment had been ruined, possibly forever. Burke closed the book and slapped it on the bedside table. Turning off the light, he picked up one of the pillows, placed it over his head to drown out the hideous squeaking and thudding, and prayed that it would all be over soon.

  CHAPTER 5

  Burke awoke to the sound of thumping. His first thought was that his father and Lucy were still going at it, and that he’d simply dozed off for a few minutes. But then he realized that the noise was coming through the window, not through the floor. It took another half a minute to determine the source of the noise—someone was hammering.

  His second thought was that he very badly had to piss. Glancing at the bedside table, he saw that the plastic bottle had been returned sometime during the night. Lucy must have checked in on him. The idea that she’d been in the room and he hadn’t woken up was slightly disturbing, but he was thankful.

  As he reached for the urine bottle, however, he realized that he needed to do more than empty his bladder. He was going to have to get up. And that meant being helped by Lucy or his father. Not only did he not relish that idea, but the morning erection he was sporting made it even more of a problem. He knew from experience that it wouldn’t go away until he’d peed.

  Faced with this situation, his body reacted by stressing the necessity of getting to a toilet quickly. He started to reach for the summoning bell, then stopped. You can get to the bathroom by yourself, he told himself. It’s just out the door and down the hall. You’re going to have to do it sometime.

  Encouraged by his anxious eliminatory systems, he threw back the sheet, blanket, and quilt. Using his one good hand, he carefully lifted his right leg and moved it to the side of the bed. All you have to do is turn and sit up, he told himself. Then you can stand up.

  He tried, using his right arm to move his body sideways on the bed. But as soon as his leg slipped off the bed, pain shot through him and he bellowed. “Shit!” he yelled as his body tipped sideways and the weight of the cast on his injured leg pulled him farther off the bed. He gripped the quilt with his fingers, trying to hang on. His only consolation was that the unexpected pain had killed his erection.

  Immediately he heard footsteps on the stairs. Then his door flew open, and Lucy ran to him. She started to lift him into bed, but he stopped her. “Bathroom,” he gasped. “Need to get to the bathroom.”

  “Ah,” Lucy said. “I see. All right. Let’s go.”

  “Maybe you should get Dad,” said Burke.

  Lucy shook her head. “He’s busy,” she said. “The vet’s here to look after Old Jack. Besides, I can manage you just fine.”

  “What’s wrong with Old Jack?” Burke asked as Lucy helped him slide off the bed and stand, his arm around her shoulder.

  “Just a little case of founder,” said Lucy. “Nothing serious. Got out and ate too much grass too quickly. We caught it in time, and he’s mostly better.” She chuckled. “Come to think of it, you two have a little bit in common.”

  “Ha-ha,” said Burke as he shuffle-hopped out of the room and into the hallway. “Maybe you should have the vet put me down. It would be easier.”

  They reached the bathroom and went inside. “Do you need help sitting?” Lucy asked.

  Burke eyed the toilet. Fortunately, the sink was beside it, and he could use it for support. “No,” he told Lucy. “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll just wait outside.”

  “Why don’t you just come back in ten minutes?” Burke suggested.

  Lucy nodded in agreement. “You don’t need me hovering,” she said.

  She left, shutting the door behind her. Burke turned, his hand on the edge of the sink for balance, and shucked his boxers down. Unable to bend his right leg, he lowered himself quickly. There was a brief moment of panic when he feared he might not hit the seat, but then it was beneath him. I’m never going to get used to this, he thought.

  When Lucy returned ten minutes later, Burke had managed to stand up and wash his hands, and was leaning against the sink, waiting for her help. “Everything come out all right?” Lucy asked.

  “Just fine,” said Burke as he limped along next to her. “Thanks for asking.”

  When they reached the bedroom, Burke sat on the bed while Lucy plumped his pillows. “Do you want to get dressed?” Lucy asked.

  “Actually, no,” Burke answered. “I think I’ll play the invalid for a li
ttle while.”

  “I don’t blame you,” said Lucy as she pulled the blanket and quilt over his lap. “You just sit here. I’ll get your breakfast.”

  Burke watched her go. What was he going to do all day? He could read only for so long. He would have to ask Lucy about Internet service. Then he could at least see what was going on in the real world. And he had some movies saved on his laptop. He could watch those. Still, it felt like being in the hospital. He looked out the window. The hammering had stopped, and he could see his father standing in the paddock, next to Old Jack. The big brown horse was facing away from Burke. His black tail switched lazily back and forth, and one ear was bent to the side.

  He’s annoyed, Burke thought. The vet must be checking his feet.

  A moment later a head appeared next to Old Jack’s as a man stood up. He turned his face toward the window, and Burke felt his heart stop. “Mars,” he whispered.

  The man was ruggedly handsome, with a wide face and strong jaw. His dark hair, slightly too long, curled over his forehead and brushed the collar of his blue work shirt. He said something and smiled, one side of his mouth curling up in an expression Burke remembered all too well. He patted Old Jack’s neck with one large hand and laughed. The sound slipped through the window, and Burke felt his skin dimple as a shiver of excitement rippled through him.

  It was Mars Janks, all right. Burke would have known that face and voice anywhere. But something wasn’t right. He’s your age, Burke reminded himself. He wouldn’t look the same now as he did in high school.

  Lucy interrupted his thoughts, appearing with the same tray as the night before. Only this time it held a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast and a glass of milk. She brought it to the bed and set it down.

  “Who’s out there with Dad?” Burke asked.

  Lucy looked out. “The Janks boy,” she answered.

  “Mars?” said Burke, his stomach tightening.

  Lucy shook her head. “Will,” she said. “Marshall’s son.”

  “Will,” Burke said. “Of course. He must be what, seventeen?”

  “Twenty,” said Lucy.

  Burke looked out the window again. Will was gone, but Burke recalled his face clearly. “He looks just like Mars did at that age,” he said.

  “He’s a real nice boy,” said Lucy. “Just like his father.”

  “He’s going to be a vet?” asked Burke.

  Lucy smiled. “If his father has anything to say about it, he will,” she answered. “Now, eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

  Left alone, Burke sat staring out the window. The eggs, untouched, cooled as he became lost in thought. He couldn’t get Will Janks’s face out of his head. More accurately, he couldn’t get Mars Janks’s face out of his head. He hadn’t thought of Mars in a long time. Now, seeing Will, it all came back to him.

  They had become friends as children, making one another’s acquaintance in Sunday school shortly after Mars and his family moved to Wellston. Mrs. Forth, sharing with the class the miracle of Christ’s birth, had glossed over the particulars of Mary’s pregnancy, leaving most of them with the impression that she had gotten with child when a dove flew up her dress. Mars, however, had announced with authority, “A woman gets pregnant when a man puts his penis in her vagina and ejaculates sperm. The sperm fertilize her egg, and that makes a baby.” He had broken the silence that resulted by asking their gape-jawed teacher, “So who put his penis in Mary’s vagina?”

  He had received this information from his father, who was an obstetrician and firmly believed that children should not be lied to when it came to matters of scientific fact. Burke, impressed by the new boy’s knowledge, had quickly introduced himself. A meeting between their mothers following church resulted in an invitation for Marshall to spend the following Friday night at the Crenshaw home, and from there their friendship had grown until they were almost constantly together.

  Over the years they shared many things: birthdays, Little League, learning to drive. Practically brothers, they were easily mistaken as such by those who didn’t know them. They weathered the occasional fight but rarely went more than a day or two before falling back into their easy relationship.

  Then, their junior year in high school, Mars developed a crush on one of a pair of twins, Shana and Sherrie Youngblood. Burke couldn’t tell the two girls apart, but Mars was insistent that Shana was the more beautiful of the two. Because Shana would do nothing without her sister, Mars begged Burke to ask Sherrie to the upcoming Halloween dance, to which Shana had conditionally accepted Mars’s invitation. Burke reluctantly agreed, and the four spent an evening dancing to the songs of Prince, Journey, and Cyndi Lauper. During a slow dance to Wham!’s “Careless Whisper,” Sherrie surprised Burke with a kiss, after which she informed him in a hoarse whisper that she would be amenable to giving him a blow job.

  Mars, meanwhile, had been trying to convince Shana to grant him the same favor, and although she had yet to commit to anything, she had agreed to his suggestion that they all drive somewhere and enjoy some of the beer he had liberated from the grocery store at which he worked as a stock boy. And so the four of them rode in Mars’s hand-me-down Volvo to the secluded parking area by the lake, where after two beers each, Mars began making out with Shana in the front seat, while in the back Burke endured Sherrie’s sloppy kisses and fumbling attempts to unzip his pants.

  Burke had for some time been aware of his sexual inclinations but had managed to keep them to himself. Now, faced with Sherrie’s uncomfortably aggressive behavior, he found himself panicking. He could fake making out with her, but anything beyond that wasn’t going to end well for either of them. As he once again guided her fingers away from his crotch, he prayed for some divine intervention that would rescue him from the predicament.

  He got it a moment later, when Shana opened the passenger-side door and threw up her beer. Almost instantly Sherrie, too, was reaching for the door handle, joining her sister in sickness. As the twins vomited loudly and assured each other that everything would be okay, Mars looked back at Burke and with great irritation said, “I guess they really do do everything together.”

  Half an hour later the Youngblood twins had been deposited at their house, and Burke and Mars were back at the lake, Burke having replaced Shana in the front seat. Each boy had a beer in his hand. Mars’s was already half empty.

  “What a couple of teases those two were, huh?” Mars said.

  Burke sipped his beer. “Well, they were pretty sick,” he said.

  Mars looked over at him. “So she was really going to give you a hummer?”

  “That’s what she said,” Burke confirmed.

  Mars laughed. “Your balls must be aching something fierce. I know mine are. Shit, I bet Shana faked puking just to get out of sucking my dick.”

  “If she was faking it, she did a pretty good job,” said Burke.

  Both of them laughed. Mars drained his beer and tossed the empty bottle out the window. “All I know is I’m fucking hard as a rock,” he said. He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his crotch. “Damn, this sucks!”

  “Yeah,” Burke said, trying to sound annoyed. “I know what you mean.” He took another swig of beer and swallowed it. “I guess we’ll just have to jerk off later.”

  Mars opened another beer, drank deeply, and said, “What do you think it feels like?”

  “Jerking off?” Burke answered. “You should know. You do it five times a day.”

  “Not jerking off,” said Mars, hitting him lightly with his hand. “Getting a blow job.”

  Burke shrugged. “Wet, probably,” he said. “Warm. I don’t know.”

  Mars groaned. “We were this close to finding out,” he said. “Damn it!”

  A few seconds later Burke heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down. When he looked over, he saw that Mars had shucked his jeans down and was slowly stroking his erect cock. He still held the beer bottle in his left hand.

  His breath caught in his throat. He had seen Mars’
s cock before, but never hard, and he’d never seen him playing with it. Mars’s head was back and his eyes were closed. Burke could hear him breathing.

  What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion. Before he could stop himself, Burke reached across and took Mars’s dick in his hand. Mars stopped stroking himself and let Burke take over. His eyes remained closed.

  Burke stroked Mars for several minutes, feeling every inch of his friend’s long, thick cock. He rubbed the head, and his fingers came away sticky with precum. Mars remained perfectly still.

  Then Burke felt himself moving closer and bending over. His mouth closed over the head of Mars’s dick and kept moving, sliding down the shaft. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for Mars to realize what was happening and stop him, but Mars only rested his hand on the back of Burke’s neck, his fingers applying light pressure.

  He came a minute later, moaning and lifting his hips as he exploded in Burke’s mouth. Burke swallowed the warm load, surprised at how much there was. He waited until Mars’s cock stopped twitching, then let it slip from his mouth. He retreated to his own seat, horrified at what he’d just done.

  Mars quietly tucked his dick away and zipped his pants up. He took a drink of beer and handed the bottle to Burke. “Man, I am so wasted,” he said.

  Burke pretended to drink but only tipped the bottle back. He didn’t want to wash the taste of Mars from his mouth. “Me too,” he said.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Mars as he started the car.

  They never spoke about what happened. Burke worried that it would ruin their friendship, but when they next saw one another, Mars acted no differently toward him. Still, Burke sensed that bringing up the subject or attempting to repeat the events of that evening would be a mistake. And so he told himself that it had all been a dream. He accepted the lie because he had to, and because he didn’t want to lose Mars’s friendship.