The Road Home

by Michael Thomas Ford

  “Better than having a cast on,” said Burke. “Can I stand up?”

  “Let’s give it a try,” the doctor answered.

  Burke swung his legs over the edge of the table and slid off, putting most of his weight on his left leg. He set his right foot on the floor and gently shifted his weight to it. It felt strange after so many weeks of being one-footed, but it didn’t hurt too terribly badly. He took a tentative step, wobbled, and grabbed at Dr. Radiceski’s offered arm, then tried again. This time he managed three more or less normal steps across the room.

  “Good,” the doctor said. “It will take a while until you’re a hundred percent, but this is a great start, considering they had to pin you.”

  Burke turned and walked back to the examination table. “It feels so weird,” he remarked. “I got used to having just one usable leg.”

  “It’s amazing how we adapt,” Dr. Radiceski said. “One of our dogs had to have a rear leg amputated. Cancer. I swear he came running out of the operating room as if he’d always had three legs.”

  “Are you comparing me to a dog?” asked Burke.

  The doctor nodded. “I am,” he said. He was writing something in Burke’s file and pointed his pen at him. “The difference is that my dog never complained about having only three legs.”

  Burke laughed. “So, now what? Do I come back?”

  Dr. Radiceski nodded. “In a couple weeks I want to do another set of X-rays, just to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be. Unless you’re heading back to Boston, in which case I’ll transfer you back to Dr. Liu.”

  “I’ll stick with you,” Burke told him. “You have a better bedside manner.”

  “Then you’re good to go,” the doctor said. “Just don’t overdo it. No playing rugby or swing dancing for a while yet.”

  “Spoilsport,” Burke teased.

  He went to put his shoes on and realized that he’d forgotten to bring along the right one. He’d become so used to wearing only one that it hadn’t occurred to him that he would need both for the trip home.

  “Here you go.” Dr. Radiceski handed him a single flip-flop. “Nobody ever remembers to bring the other shoe. We keep a couple of pairs of these around.”

  “Stylish,” said Burke as he slipped the flip-flop onto his foot.

  “You’re lucky. That’s the only right one I have left. Unless you want a pink Hello Kitty one, but I doubt it would fit.”

  “This will be fine,” Burke assured him as he stood up. “Thanks.”

  He walked down the hallway, still a little unsteady, and into the waiting room. Sam looked at his leg, then down at the single flip-flop. “This is a good look for you,” he remarked.

  “I refuse to conform to fashion,” Burke said.

  “What do you want to do to celebrate?” Sam asked as they walked to the car.

  “Actually,” Burke said, “I want to go to the Hague farm.”

  “More pictures?”

  Burke shook his head. “Something else. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” Sam said. “Let’s go.”

  An hour later they pulled to the side of the road near the farm. Sam surveyed the ruins. “Hard to believe something so awful happened here,” he said. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “You haven’t seen the best part,” said Burke as he walked into the grass.

  Sam followed him as he made his way toward the trees and the pond beyond. He hadn’t come to see the house. An idea had planted itself in his head, and rather than question it, he had decided to see where it led.

  They passed through the trees, Sam exclaiming at the beauty of the place, and emerged into the clearing where the pond awaited them.

  “Here we are,” Burke said. “What do you think?”

  Sam surveyed the area. “This is where Amos drowned, isn’t it?”

  Burke nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Like you said, it’s hard to imagine something so awful happened here.”

  “And what are we doing here?” Sam grinned.

  “Taking a bath,” Burke said, pulling his T-shirt over his head. His shorts were next, and then he was naked.

  Feeling a rush of excitement, he walked quickly to the pond and stepped into the water. The shock of the cold raised gooseflesh on his skin, but he continued going in until he was up to his waist in the water. Then he turned and fell, resting on his back and looking up at the sky. The water held him up, caressing his body. Where it touched his right leg, it seemed to soothe away the remaining pain.

  “Coming in?” he called to Sam.

  In answer Sam shucked his clothes off. Burke caught only a glimpse of his naked body before Sam was running to the edge of the water and jumping. He seemed to fly for a moment, suspended in the air with a lopsided grin on his face before he landed on his stomach a few feet away from Burke. He disappeared under the water for a moment, then came back up. He shook his head, water flying from his hair and beard.

  “It’s cold!” he said.

  “Not for long,” Burke assured him.

  Sam turned onto his back and floated next to Burke. He kicked his feet a little to stay up, and the resulting wake made Burke rock slightly. It was like being in a cradle, he thought. He closed his eyes and sank into the water, letting it close over his chest so that only his face was exposed.

  He couldn’t help but think about Amos Hague. What had Amos been doing in the pond when he drowned? If he couldn’t swim, why would he go in? Will had said that the water closer to the bottom was really cold. What must it have been like, sinking down into that water, unable to breathe? The idea made Burke shudder.

  Suddenly he was overcome by the urge to find out. He turned and dived, even as his mind told him to stop. He pulled with his arms and kicked, forcing himself down. The sunlit surface disappeared, and he headed for darkness. Then the water turned icy, and he recoiled from it. He turned, looking up toward the surface, and knew he had made a mistake.

  He tried to swim up but couldn’t. It was as if something was holding on to his legs, dragging him deeper. He clawed at the water, unable to move. Then his mouth opened, and he called out for help. He could see light shining through the bubbles that escaped from his lips, taking the remaining air in his lungs with them.

  And then something was coming toward him. For a moment it blocked out the light. Then strong arms were around him, and he was rising. His eyes were open, and through the rushing water he saw a face looking at him. It was the face of Amos Hague.

  His head broke the surface into the bright sunlight. He gasped, taking in air and choking. Then he remembered Amos Hague, and he struggled, trying to get free from the arms that gripped him.

  “Relax. It’s me.” Sam’s voice calmed him, and he stopped thrashing and just floated, his breathing returning to normal. Sam’s body beneath his was solid and reassuring. He was okay. He wasn’t going to drown.

  “What happened?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Burke. “It felt like someone was pulling me under. And that’s not the weirdest part.” He told Sam about seeing Amos Hague’s face. “It wasn’t really scary, though,” he said when he was done. “I mean, it freaked me out, but it was almost as if he’d come to save me.”

  “It’s the pond,” said Sam. “Do you want to get out?”

  Oddly, Burke didn’t. Now that the panic was past, he was strangely happy. Sam had yet to release him, and the feeling of their bodies pressed together was one he didn’t want to end right now. Instead, he placed his hands on top of Sam’s own where they held him around the chest.

  “No,” he said. “I like this.”

  Sam’s fingers moved apart, allowing Burke’s to slip between them. Neither said anything. Burke’s head was on Sam’s shoulder, their cheeks touching. He could feel Sam’s heart beating beneath him.

  He let go of Sam’s hands and turned so that they were facing one another. His arms slipped round Sam’s waist and drew him in. Then their mouths met in a gentle kiss.

  “This would be ea
sier on dry land,” Sam said when they parted.

  They swam to the edge of the pond, and Sam pulled himself onto the large, flat rock where Burke had once seen turtles sunning themselves. He sat with his feet in the water and extended his hand to Burke, pulling him up beside him. The rock was warm beneath Burke’s bare skin, cutting through the cold of the water.

  “That’s better,” Sam said, turning and taking Burke’s face in his hands.

  This time their kiss was longer and more passionate. Burke’s hands roamed across Sam’s back, then onto his furry belly. When he wrapped his hand around Sam’s hard cock, Sam groaned.

  “Lie back,” Burke ordered.

  Sam did, stretching out on the rock and putting his hands beneath his head. His dick stuck up, and Burke had only to lean down and take the head in his mouth. Sam’s skin was cool beneath his lips but warmed up quickly as Burke moved up and down the length of him.

  He wanted Sam to come. He wanted to taste him and feel the salty spray against his throat. But after a few minutes Sam reached down and lifted his head away.

  “Come up here,” he said.

  Burke stretched alongside him, their legs touching. Sam reached over and gripped Burke’s cock, sliding his hand up and down it, squeezing the head. Burke did the same, matching Sam’s strokes. Their forearms brushed against one another as they jacked each other off.

  Burke came hard, covering his chest and stomach in sticky heat. Before he was done, Sam joined him. His cum shot up, geyserlike, and fell back again, dewing the hair on his torso as Burke milked the last drops from him. Then Burke was straddling him and leaning down, pressing their bodies together, and once more kissing Sam’s mouth, his neck, his chest. His tongue flicked against the small bead at the center of Sam’s nipple ring, and he took the nipple into his mouth, biting gently. Sam lifted his hips.

  Burke took Sam by the wrist and moved his arm back, pinning it to the rock. His mouth moved into the thicket of hair beneath Sam’s arm, and he buried his nose there, smelling water and sun and sweat. Sam’s hand slid down Burke’s back, coming to rest on his ass, his fingertips grazing the space between. He kissed Burke’s neck, then nuzzled more aggressively.

  “That’s going to leave a mark,” Burke whispered, returning his attention to Sam’s nipple.

  Sam grinned. “That’s the idea,” he said.

  Again their mouths met. Sam’s beard was rough against Burke’s lips, but he liked the feeling of it. He put his hand against the side of Sam’s face, stroking it.

  “Tell the truth,” Sam said in between kisses. “You faked that whole drowning thing just to get into my pants.”

  “You weren’t wearing pants,” Burke reminded him. “And no, I didn’t.” He kissed the tip of Sam’s nose.

  “We should rinse off,” Sam suggested.

  “I don’t know,” said Burke. “I kind of like having you all over me.”

  “If you stay on top of me much longer, we’ll be glued together.”

  Burke laughed. “Okay,” he said. “Come on.”

  He stood up and turned around. When Sam was up as well, Burke took his hand and jumped, pulling him into the pond. For some reason the water felt warmer than it had earlier, even as far down as his feet.

  “Something’s different,” Sam said. “Can you feel it?”

  Burke nodded. “It’s nice,” he said.

  “Maybe we warmed it up,” Sam joked, taking Burke’s hands and pulling him closer. “Shall we go all the way and see if we can turn it into a steam bath?”

  They swam to shore, where they sat in the sun for a few minutes to dry off, then got dressed. As they walked back through first the trees and then the grass, Burke thought again of the face in the water, and suddenly a thought came to him. Something that Gaither had said.

  “I think I know what happened,” he said. “To Amos and Thomas. They died a year apart, right?”

  “To the day,” Sam said.

  “I think Thomas drowned in that pond first,” Burke said. “And I think Amos went after him. I don’t think it was an accident.”

  “You think he killed himself?”

  “To be with Thomas,” said Burke. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.”

  “So you’re saying what? That Thomas’s ghost tried to drown you and Amos helped me save you?”

  “I don’t think anyone tried to drown me,” Burke said. “But maybe they were trying to tell us what really happened here.”

  “I thought I was the one who was supposed to believe in stuff like that,” said Sam.

  “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

  Sam took his hand. “You could be right,” he said. “Stranger things have happened. Let’s see if we can find out anything concrete about Thomas’s death.”

  “And if we can’t?”

  “I have some other ideas,” said Sam.

  “Care to share them with me?”

  “Later,” Sam replied. “Right now I want to get home and start your physical therapy.”

  “Physical therapy?”

  “Didn’t the doctor say you should work on stretching your leg muscles?” Sam said, squeezing Burke’s hand.

  CHAPTER 32

  “He seems to be walking just fine.”

  Burke stood at the fence, looking over it at Old Jack. His father was leading the horse around the paddock, watching his feet as he moved.

  “Seems he isn’t the only one,” his father said.

  Burke opened the gate and went inside. Going over to Old Jack, he rubbed the horse’s nose. Jack immediately butted Burke with his head.

  “You’re right,” Burke said. “I brought you an apple.”

  He brought the apple out from behind his back and held it out to the horse, who took it and started chewing. Bits of apple fell from his lips.

  “It doesn’t take much to make him happy,” Burke remarked, scratching Old Jack’s ears.

  “Not much, no,” said his father.

  “Not like people,” Burke said.

  “I suspect you want to talk some more,” Ed said.

  “I do,” said Burke. “But not now.”

  His father looked at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “I don’t think either of us is really ready to talk,” Burke continued. “Not in the way we need to. So I’m just going to say I’m sorry if anything I said hurt you.”

  His father ran his hand along Old Jack’s back. “I guess we both said a lot of things,” he said.

  Burke nodded. “We did,” he agreed.

  His father continued to pet Old Jack. After a minute he said, “They say that when a woman has a boy child, the first time she holds him in her arms, he replaces the husband in her heart. Doesn’t shove him aside as such, but maybe fills up the space the husband used to occupy a little more than he did. Your mother loved you more than anything in this world.”

  “I know she did,” said Burke.

  Ed spoke again. “It’s different for the father. I don’t think there’s ever anything a man loves more than his wife. I’ve heard women say they couldn’t bear to lose a child. That’s how I felt about your mother. But I did bear it. Sometimes I didn’t think I would, but I did.” He finally looked up at Burke. “I don’t want to find out if I could bear losing my child, too.”

  Burke reached across Old Jack’s back and touched his father’s hand. “You won’t,” he said. He pulled his hand back. “I’ve got to go,” he said, “but we’ll talk soon.”

  His father waved, saying nothing. But he didn’t have to. Burke knew that something had changed between them, just as something had changed between him and Sam. Where this change would lead him in his relationship with his father, he didn’t know. But the door had been opened, and that was a start.

  He got into Sam’s car. Driving himself to his father’s house had been a bit of an adventure. The car wasn’t an automatic, and adjusting to pressing the clutch with his left foot was almost like learning to drive all over again. Several times he had forgotten
to push it in and had ground the gears, making him glad that Sam wasn’t in the car to hear him mistreat it.

  He’d wanted to see his father before the evening’s activities. Somehow he knew that it was important for him to clear those feelings out of his head as much as possible. They weren’t gone completely, and might never be, but he did feel better.

  When he arrived at the Hague farm, there was another car already parked by the side of the road. A sticker on the bumper showed a brown-striped flag with a black bear paw where the field of stars would normally be. Seeing it, Burke couldn’t help but laugh.

  He got out and walked through the grass. The late afternoon sun was warm but not hot, and shadows were already creeping across the field. Soon it would be twilight. Burke looked at the ruins of the farmhouse as he walked by. The stones were touched with gold as the sunlight moved across them, and the flowers sprouting from the cracks were motionless in the still air.

  He made his way down the low rise to the trees and passed through them. When he reached the pond, he saw the others there. Ginger, Jonas, Thad, Sam, and Gaither stood on the far side, near the large rock. Sam, seeing Burke, waved. Burke waved back and made his way along the shoreline, skirting the edge of the pond.

  “How’d it go?” Sam asked.

  “Okay,” said Burke. “We’ll see what happens.”

  Gaither came over and gave Burke a hug. “Hello, love,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Burke said. “I hope the drive down wasn’t too awful.”

  “Much easier than when we had to use the horse and buggy,” said Gaither, feigning seriousness.

  “You’ll stay the night with us, won’t you?” Sam asked.

  “Of course he will, and so will we.” Ginger hugged Burke. “It’ll be a slumber party, only some of us won’t be wearing pj’s.”

  “Saints preserve us,” Gaither said, looking heavenward.

  “So, what exactly are we doing?” Burke asked.

  “Ask Jonas,” Ginger said. “He’s the one who came up with the ritual.”

  They gathered around Jonas, who smiled at them shyly through his beard. “Well, Sam told me that Thomas Beattie drowned here while swimming with Amos Hague.”