Date: Thu, 22 May 2003 17:06:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tom Borden <tombor99@yahoo.com>
Subject: Metamorphosis

This is the story of two young men who experienced a strange and unexpected
awakening during a traumatic and harrowing wartime ordeal in which they
gained a life-altering insight into the nature of their own souls.
Although this story is basically fiction, parts of it are based on my own
experience.  My undying gratitude and thanks goes once again to Mark J.,
the most insightful literary critic on Earth, for his critical reading of
this story.  Comments of any nature are welcome.

Tom Borden
Tombor99@yahoo.com

Metamorphosis

In almost everyone's life, there comes a time when everything seems to turn
upside down and inside out.  I was no exception.  The world in which I
lived, comfortably and satisfied, throughout my childhood and teen years,
revealed itself suddenly one day as nothing more than an illusion, a
spurious deception of the mind.  Everything I thought I knew and believed
about the world and about myself, including the very nature of my soul,
suddenly metamorphosed inexplicably into a strange, new reality.  Some
would say it was an epiphanic experience.

My name is William Kilmer (they call me Will), born into a loving family,
prominent and successful.  I have the pleasure of looking back on my
childhood with great fondness.  I was a good student in school, but I was
known as a mischievous child and was forever carrying notes home from my
teachers informing my parents of some misdeed or other I had been involved
in, either on the playground or in class.

My father, Charles Kilmer (or Charlie, as he was known) eventually
convinced me that I and my older brother, like all children, should try to
be a credit to our family.  He had an important position as CEO and
Chairman of the Board of the large firm that he and his father had founded:
Kilmer Construction Company.  I may have been mischievous, but I was never
rebellious.  I understood and I truly did not want to be an embarrassment
to him.  I was proud that my father was well-known in the community and I
hoped that someday I would make him proud of me.

My mother and father encouraged me to date "nice" girls in high school.  I
was told that I was rather good looking in those days, and that, along with
the fact that I was an admired member of the swimming team, afforded me
little trouble in getting the best looking girls in school to go out with
me.  I frequently went on double dates and would end up fairly late at
night parked up on Observatory Hill.  I would usually be in the back seat
with my date, with the other couple in the front seat.  We got into some
pretty heavy petting, often with my hand inside her panties and her hand
inside my fly.  But we never went further than that.  I would usually go to
bed on those nights and masturbate while I fantasized about going all the
way with the girl.  I was eventually able to land the prettiest and most
popular girl in school as my steady date.  Her name was Karen.  How proud I
was when I would strut up and down the halls with her between classes and
during the noon hour.  I was in a heaven of my own making and I enjoyed
having all eyes on us.

When I graduated from high school, the Korean War had just begun.  I had
always had a bit of an adventurous spirit, and decided to join the Army.
My parents were dismayed and disappointed since I had several scholarships
awarded to me for college.  We had a number of very heavy discussions over
it, but my mind was made up.  I had taken two years of ROTC in high school,
and I found that I loved every moment of it.  And I wore my uniform proudly
on drill days.  I was ten years old when the Second World War had started,
and I followed the progress of that war intently during the war's five-year
duration.  To me it was a grand adventure, and in my childish mind, I had
wished that I could have been a part of it.

After I enlisted, both Karen and my parents were there at the train station
to see me off to camp.  Karen and I promised each other that we would write
frequently.  I took my basic training at Fort Custer, Michigan in the dead
of winter.  It was not an easy experience, of course, but I worked hard at
it and always got a perfect score on all the tests given us in our
classroom work.  Nevertheless, one of the cadre, a Sergeant Ron Edwards,
tall and blond and muscular, made it his business to be as offensive and
repugnant as he could toward me, as well as to several others.  While I
always knew this kind of behavior was simply part of the game, it added an
unsettling dimension to the experience.  When we graduated from Basic,
Sergeant Edwards shook everyone else's hand but mine.  It didn't matter; I
was glad to have him out of my sight.

I went on to another eight weeks of advanced training in an antiaircraft
artillery battalion.  At the conclusion of that period, I was handed my
orders to go overseas to Korea.  I wasn't in the least nervous; I was, in
fact, somewhat exhilarated with the thought that I would have that
experience.

After a thirty-day leave, I reported to Fort Lawton in Seattle for shipment
to the Far East.  I and about 5,000 American and Canadian troops boarded a
large troop ship, the U.S.S. Meigs, which would be our home for the ten-day
crossing of the Pacific.  It was not a comfortable journey, living in hot,
cramped quarters and having gone through a tremendous storm.  I would
frequently get up late at night and go out on deck for fresh air and to
look at the moon reflected on the water.  On one of those nights, a most
unlikely thing happened.

After standing at the rail for some time, I turned to leave and noticed
someone sitting on the floor of the deck, leaning against the wall behind
me.  As I passed by him, I looked at him and could hardly believe my eyes.
It was Sergeant Edwards.  I had not realized that he had also received
orders to go to Korea.  I just said a simple hello, and when he looked up
at me, I could see that he had been crying.  I knelt down and asked him
what was the matter.  He didn't answer me at first, and I asked again.  He
had his knees up and his arms wrapped around them.  And I could see both
his arms and his legs were shaking.  Finally, he looked at me and said in a
little voice, unlike the one I had known, "I'm just so scared.  I'm just so
scared."

I asked him if he remembered me.  And he said he did.  He kept wiping his
eyes with his sleeve.  "I'm just so scared," he repeated.  I had never been
in a position to have to comfort someone in this condition, and I didn't
know what to say.  But I suddenly felt so sorry for him . . . this man I
had had so much hate for and so little respect.  I felt as though I should
say something or do something.  Not knowing what to do, I put my hand on
his arm in kind of a comforting way.  Then he looked up and raised both his
arms toward me.  It was obvious he wanted me to hug him, or to hug me, or
something.

We hugged for a few moments, and I broke away.  I felt so inadequate.  It
was a situation I had never been in before.  On top of that, I just
couldn't get past my ingrained dislike of the man.  I stood up and said
some inane thing, like, "You'll be alright.  Everything will be fine."
Then I walked back to the stiflingly hot bay where I was assigned and
climbed into my hammock.

I lay awake for so long that night.  I just had a realization that evening
about something I had never thought about.  It was perfectly clear.  What
you see in another man is never reality.  It's pure illusion.  Here was
this tough, hard-talking, muscle-bound son-of-a-bitch.  But what I had
known of him was not real.  Locked up inside of him where no one could see
was an insecure little boy, wracked by fear and doubts about himself.  He
had doubtlessly always seen himself as tough and fearless, always
projecting a persona that was pure illusion.  But now, when put to the
test, he was facing a stark reality about himself, and he was terrified.

We disembarked at the Port of Yokohama, Japan and, after several days of
processing, we were back on the ship headed for the landing at Inchon,
Korea.  Before landing, we learned that we had all had our specialty MOSs
changed to Infantry.  There had been so many casualties thus far in the war
that Infantrymen were needed badly.  I had been trained in antiaircraft
artillery, but I could see it wasn't going to do me any good.  The
Americans were at that time fighting their way up the Peninsula.  After
landing, we all received our unit assignments.  I was assigned to Company
E, 21st Regiment, 24th Infantry Division.

My company was on the move when I joined it.  Over the next several months
or so, I felt as though I was running on an empty tank of gas.  I was
exhausted most of the time, dirty, unshaven, and full of tension, as we all
were.  And with winter coming on, I was so cold I didn't think I would ever
be warm again.  At night, when we would stop, half of us in the company
slept, while the others stood guard . . . on for two hours, off for two
hours.  I never slept well.  Karen had promised to write me, but no letter
had come.  I was informed that no mail would be delivered to us while we
were on the move.  I missed hearing from her so much.  Just a few words
from her would have helped.

When we finally reached the Yalu River on the northern border of North
Korea, we heard rumors that MacArthur was going to have us push across the
river into Manchuria.  But MacArthur was at odds with President Truman over
that issue, resulting in MacArthur's dismissal.  While we camped on the
banks of the Yalu, a letter finally came from Karen, along with two letters
from my mom and dad.  Karen's letter was a long one, and I could smell her
perfume on it.  Dad said that he was following the war carefully on a map.
It had been made public where the 24th Division was, but not my unit.

It was just a matter of days when the Chinese entered the war and came
streaming down upon us from across the river.  We couldn't hold our
positions and started pulling back.  The Chinese were coming at us with
what seemed like hundreds of thousands of men, along with tanks and
artillery.  We pulled back on foot for several days with no sleep.  As many
as could manage climbed on trucks and tanks, but most of us had to walk.  I
kept walking but I felt as though I couldn't take another step.  The
terrain was very hilly.  We were able to stay mostly in the valleys and
avoid the hills, but we were forced in our haste to climb over a number of
hills.  When we would get to the top, we could see another range of hills
before us, and then another and another.

It was the second or third or fourth night . . . I don't remember which
. . . .  There was constant arms fire behind us, and it seemed as though it
was getting ever closer.  I think I began to run through the snow.  Then
something hit me in the back and knocked me forward.  It actually felt as
though I was gently pushed over.  It wasn't what I had imagined being shot
would feel like.  But I couldn't get up.  All I could do was to roll over
on my back.  I reached behind me and felt a hole in my parka in the middle
of my back on the left side.  Almost immediately, I felt a hot, burning
sensation begin.  Then I felt something warm flowing over my hand.  I could
see in the faint moonlight that it was blood.  I removed my hand and lay
there on my back, unable to move.  Every move I made sent a shooting pain
up along my back to the nape of my neck.

All the others around me had gone on.  I tried to peer into the darkness,
but I could see no one.  I could still hear the arms fire some distance
behind me.  I tried again to move, but I felt almost paralyzed.  I lay
there on my back for a long time; I don't know how long.  I knew I was
alone now.  And I felt the strangest calm come over me as I told myself I
was going to die.  Then came a terrifying feeling of profound loneliness,
and then panic.  I oddly had no real fear of dying.  But I didn't want to
die alone.  I was all alone in the middle of nowhere, and I was going to
die and nobody cared.  Nobody was there to say goodbye to me.  I thought
about my mom and dad.  I wished so badly to be able to say goodbye to them,
and to have my mom put her hand on my cheek, as she always did when she put
me to bed as a kid.  And Karen.  If only there was a way I could send you a
message, I thought, to tell you I love you and miss you.

I closed my eyes and began to cry.  Why did I have to die alone, I thought.
No one should have to die alone, without someone to say goodbye or say 'I
love you.'  Nobody knows.  Nobody cares.  The pain in my back was
subsiding.  I could no longer feel it.  I felt tired.  I wanted to go to
sleep.  I wanted to die in my sleep.

I awoke with a start when I felt something on my arm.  I looked up and it
was a young man with a Medic's band around his arm.  "It's alright," he
said.  "Don't move.  Where are you hurt?"

"My back," I said.  As the tears started to well up in my eyes again, I
looked into his face.  His face was dirty and his hands were dirty, and he
looked exhausted.

"Can you sit up?" he whispered.

"I don't think so," I said, as I tried to move, but couldn't.

The Medic gently rolled me over on my side.  I no longer had any pain, but
I still couldn't move on my own.  He had a very tiny flashlight that he
shown into the wound.  He said, "It's a good thing you've been lying on
your back in the snow.  The cold snow on the wound inhibited the bleeding.
I'm going to have to cut open your parka so I can dress the wound until we
can get you back for medical attention."

The Medic cut open my parka, as well as the sweater and two shirts beneath,
and poured Sulfa into the wound and dressed it.  Then he called on his
radio for help to come with a litter.  After calling numerous times, he
wasn't able to contact anyone.  And very soon, the radio went completely
dead.  We could hear the sound of tanks to the north of us, and they were
coming closer.  I finally said, "Go on ahead and save yourself.  They're
coming closer, and there's no reason for you to get caught in this.
There's no way I can move.  You might as well get out of here while you
can."

"I'm not going to leave you," he whispered.

"Why not?" I replied.  "I'm going to die anyway.  Go on."

"No, you're not.  You're not going to die."

We began to hear voices, Chinese soldiers shouting as they came closer.  We
heard the grinding roar of tanks that seemed as though they were almost
upon us.  The Medic rolled me over on my side and put his hands under my
shoulders and dragged me into the midst of a thick clump of leafless bushes
covered with snow.

"I don't think we'll be seen here," he said.  "Be very quiet."

Chinese soldiers dressed in thick padded jackets and pants, with hoods and
flaps down over their ears, began to run past us on all sides.  Tanks
rumbled by, making the ground shake.  Hidden from view, we lay very still.
The stream of shouting soldiers seemed never to end.  It was like being
stranded on a small sand bar in the middle of a raging, flooded river.  It
went on and on through the night.  I thought it would never end.  I was
certain that, at any moment, they would find us and kill us.  In a way, I
wanted it to end that way, quickly and with little pain.

Eventually, the flow of Chinese troops had stopped and we could see the
first glow of the dawn in the East.  Looking south, we saw a long,
seemingly endless ridge of hills stretching from east to west as far as we
could see.  Swarming all over the top and sides of the hill were Chinese
troops, now in bivouac, setting up their temporary encampment.  I knew now
that there was no way out for us.

I looked at the Medic.  His helmet was lying by his side and the flaps of
his pile cap were down and tied under his chin.  He was looking at the
hopeless scene that confronted us.  He was so young, I thought.  He was
just a boy, no older than I.  His face was very dirty and when he took off
his gloves to wipe his eyes, his hands looked delicate and slender.  His
face was wreathed with exhaustion.  Neither of us had slept, and his eyes
were red and watery.  He rolled over on his back and stared at the sky
through the snarl of bare twigs that formed a canopy above us.

While I had felt almost paralyzed during the night, I was heartened when I
realized that I could now move and roll over.  I felt a dull ache and a
tightening in my back, but no real pain.  "I wish you had taken the
opportunity to get away last night," I said.  "You didn't have to stay with
me."

"Yes, I did," he said, turning his face toward me, with a faint smile on
his lips.  "It's my job.  I guess we'll be here for awhile.  My name's
Shep.  Shepard Cramer.  What's yours?  I see on your tag, your name's
Kilmer.  Do you have a first name?"

"Yeah, my name's William Kilmer.  Everyone calls me Will."

"How are you feeling, now, Will?"

"My back doesn't feel too bad.  I just feel stiff and really weak.  I
haven't eaten in several days."

Shep reached into the satchel that hung around his neck.  "Here, I have one
Baker's chocolate bar left.  I'll split it with you."

After we ate the chocolate, I picked up my canteen, which I had taken off
earlier.  "I think this is about half full," I said, passing it to Shep.
"Here have a drink."

"Is that all the water we have?" Shep said.  "Why don't you keep it for
yourself.  Before I came upon you last night, I lost my rifle and ammo belt
and my canteen.  Everything was crazy.  I'd never seen anything like it."

"What happened?" I asked.

Shep said, "I just got over here a month or so ago.  This was my first time
out in the field.  I thought I was well-trained.  I had a lot of medical
training after I took my Basic back in the States.  But I never thought it
would be like this.  There were suddenly wounded guys everywhere, and I
couldn't save any of them."

"What do you mean?"

"They all died.  I couldn't save any of them.  They all died.  Every
fucking one of them died.  There was nothing I could do."

"You saved me, Shep," I said.  "I haven't died . . . not yet anyway."

"No, and you're not going to die, either.  I'll give my own life before
I'll let you die."

Shep rolled over on his stomach and stared out at the Chinese troops spread
out over the hills before us.  Neither of us spoke for a long time.  Then
he sat up and looked at me.  "How old are you, Will?"

"I'm nineteen," I replied.

Shep smiled and said, "I'm nineteen, too.  Where's John Wayne now that we
need him?  He always saved the day in all those war movies we saw during
the last war.  No matter what kind of a jam he got into, he always found a
way out!"

Shep raised his arm into the air and said, "Charge!  Up over the hill!
Kill them Japs!  Hurray for the USA!"

Just as Shep turned his face away from me, I could see tears streaming down
through the dirt on his cheeks.  I took hold of his wrist and said, "Well,
maybe John Wayne will show up miraculously and get us out of this."

"No," Shep said as he continued to look away.  "I'm so scared.  I'm not
very brave.  Not brave at all.  I'm supposed to be out here overcoming all
the dangers and be here to help people.  But I failed at everything."

"But you saved me, Shep," I said putting my hand on his shoulder.

Shep turned his head and looked at me.  "No, I didn't.  You're going to be
alright.  That bullet isn't going to kill you.  It missed your spine and is
just lodged in the muscle in your back."

"But you put Sulfa in it and dressed it," I said, "and without that I could
have died from infection."

Shep nodded slightly and then sat up.  Looking down at me for a long time,
he asked, "Do you have a girlfriend, Will?"

"Yes, I do.  Her name's Karen.  I knew her in high school and she said she
would write me.  But I've only gotten one letter from her so far.  I was
hoping that her letters had just stacked up somewhere waiting for us to
stop moving so they could be delivered.  But she had written only one.  How
about you?"

"Yeah.  Her name's Lisa.  She cried when she saw me off.  We both cried.
But I haven't gotten any letters yet from her.  I haven't heard from my mom
and dad, either."

"Where's your hometown, Shep?" I asked.

"I was born and raised in Lincoln, Nebraska."

"Hey," I said.  "I'm from Lincoln, too!  My dad's runs a construction
company there.  I went to West High.  How about you?"

"I went to East High.  We probably saw each other in the stands during our
football games."

"Do you think you and Lisa will ever get married?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know.  Maybe.  I just don't know.  How about you and Karen?"

"Yeah, we might get married.  But we never talked about it.  If I get
married, I'd like to marry a virgin.  And Karen claims she's a virgin."

"Lisa claims she is, too.  I don't know why, but I'd kind of like to be her
first.  All my friends bragged that they've slept with their girlfriends,
but I just never wanted to do that.  When it came to sex, I was perfectly
happy to take care of myself, if you know what I mean."

I said, "I know what you mean.  It was the same with me.  It's been a long
time, though, since I've done that."

When I tried to sit up, Shep got up and helped me.  My back was stiff, but
I felt no pain, just a dull ache.  The sun was now down on the western
horizon and a cold wind began to blow across the valley, whipping up the
dry snow into swirls around us.  Shep had taped up the back of my parka
that he had cut open to keep out the cold.  But a cold chill came over me
that was almost unbearable.  My teeth were actually chattering and I could
feel my whole body lurching with chills.  As the sun finally sunk below the
horizon, it began to snow.

We were both exhausted from lack of sleep and hunger.  It seemed we no
longer had any saliva in our mouths and our words began to slur as we
talked.  I reached for my canteen and told Shep to drink as much of it as
he wanted, and I would finish it.  Soon the water was gone.  Shep filled
the canteen with snow the best he could through the narrow neck.  Then he
put it inside of his clothing next to his skin.  "We have to get the snow
melted," he said, "and when it's warm, we can drink it.  Don't ever try
eating any of the snow.  People who were lost and did that often died of
hypothermia."

It was now very dark with no moon, as there had been the night before.  The
snow began to come down harder and blew mercilessly into our shelter of
bushes.  Shep lay down next to me, pressing his body against mine in an
effort to keep warm.  I could feel his body shivering.  The snow drifted
against us and on us.  I brought my scarf up over my face and put the long
end of it over Shep's face.  I felt him pressing his face into the crook of
my neck.  We put our arms around each other in a vain attempt to keep warm.
The wind seemed to blow the snow upon us with gale force and the bitter
cold crept through our clothing with cruel relentlessness.

I started to hallucinate.  I saw the faces of many men leaning over me,
reaching out for me, but never able to touch me.  Some were laughing, some
were calling me terrible names, and some were just looking at me with
pitiable expressions.  I sat up and started calling out to them to help us.
"Help us!  Help us!  Please!"  Shep rose up and grabbed me by the
shoulders.  My lips were parched and chapped and I could hardly speak.  But
I yelled at Shep to plead with these men to help us.  Shep slowly pulled me
down on my back as I watched all the men with canteens in their hands,
pouring the water out onto the ground.  I fell back, crying hysterically as
the snow continued to fall on my face.  Shep gently brushed it from my face
with his fingers and brought the scarf back over it.  I could feel his arms
around me, holding be tightly, with his face once again buried in the crook
of my neck.

The men were gone and I was exhausted.  I felt the strength of Shep's arms
around me, tight and secure.  I had a feeling sweep over me that I had
never felt before.  I was in a cocoon.  Shep and I had become one.  One
body, one soul.  We needed each other.  Neither of us would survive without
the other.  He had become part of me, and I part of him.  I removed the
scarf from my eyes so that I could see him.  I felt his warm breath on my
cheek.  I suddenly wanted to breathe his breath, take his soul into mine.
He was at last asleep.  I moved my lips close to his and breathed in his
warm breath, as he breathed mine.  I put my arms around him, and as I
pulled him closer, his face touched mine.  Nothing could hurt us now.
Perhaps we would die together and our souls would merge and be together for
all of eternity.

I awoke as sunlight streamed in upon us.  The snow had stopped and the sky
was clear.  Shep was peering out upon the hillside in front of us.  The
Chinese were still there.  He took the canteen from beneath his clothes and
handed it to me.  "Here, Will, drink.  It's body temperature now."

I looked into Shep's face, the dirt now streaked from the tears he had shed
earlier.  I wanted to say something about what I felt that night, but I
couldn't find the words.  I couldn't possibly describe what had happened to
me when we were locked in each other's arms.

"Did you get some sleep last night, Shep," I finally said.

Shep looked at me quizzically, as though something strange had happened to
him also.  "Yeah, I think I slept okay, but I had crazy dreams."

"Like what?"

"You wouldn't want to know, Will," he said with a slight shake of his head.

I said, "When you were dreaming, was I somewhere in there?"

"Yeah, you were there."

For a few moments, he continued gazing intently into my eyes as though he
was seeing something he had never seen before.  Then he looked back at the
hillside.  I wondered if he had felt the same thing that I was feeling as
we lay close to each other.

We spent the day doing nothing but observing the movements of the Chinese
on the hill to the south.  My mind was whirling.  I couldn't get what I had
felt the night before out of my mind.  I tried to understand it, but it all
seemed too complicated and strange, as though it happened to someone else,
not myself.  I never once thought of Karen.  Her letter remained in my
pocket, but I couldn't look at it again.  There were conflicts shooting
through my mind that involved both Karen and Shep.

It was now our third night together in those bushes.  I had a peculiar
feeling that I never wanted to leave that spot.  We had no food, and we
were both getting weaker.  In the late afternoon, we both found ourselves
on our backs, hardly able to move.  Shep looked at me and said, "Maybe
you're right, Bill.  Maybe we'll both die here together."

I rolled close to Shep and said, "Shep.  Tell me about your dreams last
night."

"That's what I dreamed about," whispered Shep, "that we both died here
together."

I looked into his blue eyes and waited for more.

"And we both went up to heaven, and we . . . ."

Shep stared at me as tears filled his eyes.  He then pushed up against me
and put his arms around me.  We pressed our cheeks together and held on to
each other with all the power we had left in our arms.  Neither of us knew
what to say.  There was nothing to say.  We both understood.  A love had
come over us both, a bond that we knew would never be broken, even in
death.

As night fell, a cold wind swept down through the valley and over us.  We
were finally asleep.  But I soon awoke at the sound of muffled groans
coming from Shep.  "What's the matter, Shep?" I asked.

"I feel terrible.  I feel sick."

Shep's body was shaking.  He was shivering all over.  I lay my hand on his
forehead and I could feel that he seemed to be burning up.  I removed his
pile cap, and strings of his matted, dirty blond hair fell down over his
eyes.  I reached over and took a handful of snow and, pushing his hair
back, put some on his forehead.  Shep began talking incoherently.

"Don't talk, Shep," I whispered.  "It feels as though you have a really bad
fever."  Shep lay there quietly.  His whole body was shaking.  I sat beside
him for the rest of the night, stroking his head and trying to keep his
forehead cool with some snow.  Even though the air was cold, his face
became damp with sweat several times during the night.  By morning, the
fever seemed to have passed.  He was asleep and I looked down into his
handsome face and thanked God.  Whenever I had looked at another man, I had
never been affected by the look of his face as I was by Shep's face.  I had
never seen beauty in another man's face as I saw in Shep's face.  I
suddenly realized that this masculine face was more beautiful than any face
I had ever seen on a woman.  It was the face of a man.  A man who was
vulnerable and fragile and who needed me.  Never had I seen that in a man
before.

As the sun rose, I suddenly felt water on my hand.  Looking up, I saw drops
of water falling from the bare twigs of the bushes.  The ice on them was
melting.  I looked up into the sky, and the sun actually felt a little warm
on my face.  The temperature had obviously gone above freezing during the
night.  As Shep awoke and slowly opened his eyes, I showed him the droplets
of water.

During the night, I had tried to get up so I could pee.  But the ache in my
back wouldn't allow me to do more than sit up.  So I just let it go and
peed in my pants.  I hated the feel of it.  This was the third time I had
to do that.  I had done it first when I was alone before Shep appeared.  I
hated to think what my underwear looked like.  And I knew if it got much
warmer, it would smell.  I had not been able to get out of my clothes or
change them for almost four months.  I remembered that, before I was
wounded, I could see a bit of my underwear when I stood and peed.  My white
underpants had turned a sickening brown with sweat and urine.  But when I
looked down into Shep's face as he looked up at me, it just didn't matter.
I was alive and I had Shep near me.  That was all I thought about.  I
didn't think about home or about Karen, or even about finding our way back.
The look in Shep's eyes as he looked at me was all I needed.  As dire as
our situation was, I felt that my world was somehow real and complete for
the first time in my life.  I couldn't explain it to myself.  I didn't want
to explain it.

Shep dug around in his satchel to see if by chance there might be something
in there we could eat.  He pulled out two packages of hard tack crackers.
"I had forgotten about these," Shep said, as he handed me one of the
packages.  "Let's be sure to eat them slowly and try to make them last.  We
don't really need much food to survive as long as we have water.  We can
live on water a long time."

To conserve what little energy we had left, we both lay down again and
watched all the movement on the hillside before us.  That night, it turned
cold again, and we once again wrapped ourselves in each other's arms.  For
most of the night, we kept our bearded cheeks pressed together.  At length,
Shep whispered in my ear, "I like the feel of your breath on my face, Will.
It feels warm and comforting."

I could tell that Shep wanted to say more, but instead he just tightened
his arms around me and pressed his face closer.  Not long after we had
drifted off to sleep, we were suddenly awakened by the sound of explosions.
Looking up in the sky, we saw the old familiar beams of searchlights that
the Americans always used in Korea to light up the night.  The explosions
continued and we could tell that the Chinese on that hill were being
bombarded by our artillery.

I said, "Shep!  The Americans!  They must be just on the other side of
those hills!  The Chinese have obviously not advanced any further and our
troops are holding the line!  Look!  They've set up their search lights
again and they're blasting the Hell out of those Chinks!"

Shep sat up next to me, and we supported each other with our arms around
each other's shoulders as we sat there and watched.  The artillery fired
round after round onto the hill for the rest of the night.  At the first
rays of sun light, the bombardment ended.  It still looked as though there
were hundreds, perhaps thousands of Chinese running around on the hill.

Shep said, "Will, since our troops are right there on the other side, maybe
we ought to try and find a way out of here.  Maybe if we walk west, we
might find another valley that could take us to them."

The reality suddenly hit me that it was over.  Never mind the pain, the
misery, the cold, the aching.  Would I ever have this wonderful man in my
arms again?

Shep searched through his satchel and pulled out several rolls of gauze and
tape.  "Will, let me put a heavy binder around your back and stomach, and
maybe that will allow you to walk without much pain.  Okay?  Do you think
it's worth our giving it a try to get out of here?"

"Yes!" I said as cheerfully as I could.  "When darkness comes again, let's
give it a try."

I took off my parka and raised up my several layers of shirts and sweaters.
It was the first time I had seen my bare skin for months.  The wind was icy
cold, but it felt strangely exhilarating on my skin.  "Hurry up, Shep,
before I freeze to death!"

I looked down at my stomach as Shep wound the binding around me.  My ribs
were now showing so clearly and my stomach was so sunken in, I looked as
though I had just been rescued from a concentration camp.  Shep patted my
stomach with his hand and said with a smile, "You've lost a little weight
there, boy!"

I impulsively grabbed his hand and held it against my stomach.  He didn't
try to remove it, but rather held it there himself.  The look in his eyes
at that moment as he looked at me told me that he was feeling what I had
felt.

When he had finished, Shep helped me to my feet and I took a few steps.
The binding was very tight, and I felt very little pain in my back, except
a slight twinge now and then.  But my legs were like soft rubber, I had
been off of them for so long, I had difficulty putting one step ahead of
the other.  During that day, I practiced walking and, although my legs
became tired, we started off when night fell.  The strong search lights
were back on and the bombardment of the hills resumed.  We stopped
frequently to rest, but I soon became used to it, and we were walking
farther and farther after each rest.  We saw no opening in the range of
hills where we could turn south, and there were Chinese troops all along
the ridges as far as we could see.  We had walked all night with
intermittent rests and, as the first rays of day began to appear, we
located another clump of bushes where we would hide out until night came
again.

We lay on our backs resting all day.  I wanted to ask Shep to tell me more
about himself, but didn't know what to ask.  I finally said, "You know,
Shep, I haven't thought about my girl friend once since you and I have been
out here."  As soon as that came out of my mouth, I felt I should tell him
why I hadn't thought of her.  But I still wasn't sure just what it was I
was feeling, and I certainly didn't know how to express it to him.  I
thought about the times I was with Karen, but now it seemed like it was
someone else with her, not me.

"I don't either," Shep said.

"You don't what," I asked.

"I don't think about Lisa, either.  Funny.  I haven't received a single
letter from her, but I don't care.  I don't know why, but I don't care."

I laid my head on Shep's shoulder and he brought his arm up under me and
pulled me to him.  It wasn't a gentle tug.  It was a strong, masculine tug.
A tug that said he had to have me close to him.  We said no more and were
both soon asleep.  We slept until we heard the incessant bombardment of the
hills begin again.  It was dark and the search lights were once again
casting a glow from the clouds.

We started out again, and had been walking for about a half hour when Shep
let out a groan and fell.  Sitting in the snow and holding his ankle, Shep
said, "Aw, shit, Will.  I stepped in a hole and turned my ankle.  God damn,
it hurts!  I wonder if I sprained it.  After a while, I helped him up and
told him to lean on me as we walked.  He put his arm around my shoulders
and we walked slowly.  He couldn't put any weight on his foot, and we soon
had to stop.  We found a small cliff jutting up near the side of the hill,
where we sat down, protected from the cold wind.  The pressure of his
weight on my shoulders was making my back ache a little, and I was glad to
rest.  I took his boot and sock off and could see that his ankle was
swollen.  I put some snow on it in the hope that it would reduce the
swelling.

"I'm sorry, Will," Shep said as he held onto his lower leg.  "I've really
screwed up, haven't I?"

I looked at Shep, and I knew he was now my world.  Everything I had ever
lived for was right here.  This boy was now the only thing in the world
that mattered to me.  Damn my back.  The Hell with the wound.  I would
carry Shep in my arms for the rest of the way if I had to.  And I would.
For him, I would find the strength to do anything!

Shep soon said that his ankle felt a little better after I had pressed the
snow on it.  I put his sock back on, and as I pushed his foot into his
boot, I grasped his bare calf.  The feel of the muscles in his leg and the
soft hair that covered it, sent the blood rushing to my head.  I thought of
the time I had touched Karen's white leg with its newly shaved stubble
prickling my hand.  I hated it.  Now, it was all I could do to pull my hand
away when I finally had his boot back on.  Shep was a man.  He was a man
who excited me in ways I couldn't understand.  I longed to be wrapped in
his strong arms, to touch his masculine skin, to feel his cheek on mine and
his breath on my neck.  I knew that when we found our way back, it would
all be over, and the thought sent panic through my chest.

We resumed our walk with Shep leaning on my shoulders.  I was exhausted and
wondered if my next step would be my last.  Once again, we found a clump of
bushes to hide in as the sun came up on another day.  In the distance,
though, we saw a small valley that went south between the hills.  But we
couldn't take another step.  We lay in each other's arms and slept again
until nightfall.  Shep's ankle had swollen again and, before we started
out, I once again packed snow around it.  I held onto his leg again as I
had done the previous night.  The feel of his skin and the soft hair that
covered it almost overcame me.  I ran my hand lightly over his leg and, as
I looked up at him, he put his fingers on my face.  He smiled the sweetest
smile I had ever seen as he traced his fingers lightly over my eyebrows, my
nose and my lips.

I wanted to tell him that I didn't want to go any further, that I wanted to
stay right there and be with him alone and never go back.  As I thought
about going down that valley to the south and into my unit again, I started
to cry.  I held his hand against my face.  I didn't want him to pull away.

But I knew the end had to come.  We were on the last leg of our trek back
to where we belonged, and there was no avoiding it.

We walked throughout the night and soon came upon the artillery unit that
had been firing on the hills.  We collapsed on the ground.  I remember
several soldiers running toward us, and then I must have lost
consciousness.  I awoke in the back of a medical van rumbling down a rocky
road.  I was on my stomach and a medic was changing the dressing on my
back.  I asked him where Shep was.  He told me that my friend was being
sent back to his medical unit where he would have his ankle treated.

The medic said, "Your friend pleaded with us to take him with you.  He made
quite a scene.  But we couldn't do that."

"Where am I going?" I asked.

"We're taking you to a MASH hospital that just got set up a few miles from
here.  You had pretty nasty looking wound.  But whoever the field medic was
who tended you did a good job in dressing it.  There appears to be no
infection.  They'll get that bullet out of you and fix you up good as new."

I said, "The Medic who dressed it was the guy who was with me when we got
back.  We're really good friends, and I want to find out where he is.  Do
you think they'll know down at the hospital?"  Tears began to fill my eyes.
"Please, Sergeant.  I've got to find him."

"Now calm down, Kilmer.  You two must have become awfully close.  How long
were you guys out there?"

"Four, five, six days . . . I don't know.  I don't remember."

"Wow.  But the important thing right now, Kilmer, is for you to get this
wound taken care of."

I lay there, feeling as though I had lost everything.  I felt empty and
desperately lonely and I didn't care if I died right there.

I spent five days at the MASH hospital with no word from Shep.  I cried
myself to sleep every night.  On the fifth night, a Medic stopped by my bed
and asked me what was the matter.  I told him I wanted to find out where
PFC Shepard Cramer was.  Then he said, "Well, that's easy.  We've gotten a
call from him every day since you've been here asking how you were."

I sat up straight in my bed and said, "You did?  Why didn't you tell me?
Where is he?"

"He's at his own unit, the 109th Medical Detachment.  He was calling on a
field phone.  And you know those fucking field phones.  They keep cutting
off and full of static.  All I could get when he called was his asking how
you were."

I lay there with my mind going in all directions.  My heart was so full.
Just then, a second letter from Karen was delivered to me.  She said she
missed me and hoped I was alright.  Then I read the last paragraph.

	"Will, daddy has agreed to pay for our wedding.  And it's going to
be a big one.  It will be at our Grace Episcopal Church, of course, and I
need to talk to you about your taking Confirmation Classes before the
wedding.  I know you've been raised as a Methodist.  But it will be
important that you be an Episcopalian for the sake of our family.  I know
that you used to talk about going to Hawaii to live, but I don't want to be
that far from mother.  So when you get out, I think it's important that you
find work right here in town.  Daddy says he'll be glad to give you a job
in his company if he can find a suitable opening.  I love you, Karen"

What is this? I thought.  We hadn't agreed to get married.  I'm the one
who's supposed to do the proposing.  And what's this about becoming an
Episcopalian?  And I'm sure not going to be working for her daddy.  Live
near her mother?  No way!  I threw the letter on the ground.  I was
steaming.  I wondered.  Had I ever loved Karen?  That must have been
someone else who loved Karen.  It wasn't me.  I'm not that same Will
anymore.  Did I really love her?  She dragged me around by the balls!
That's what she did!  I didn't know what was happening.  I must have been
out of my mind.  That wasn't really me.  I thought it was me, but I was
living an illusion.  I was acting out someone else's life.  It wasn't me!

When I was eventually discharged from the MASH, I was sent back to Easy
Company, but since I was deemed no longer fit for combat, I was assigned a
clerical job behind the lines.  I had access to a field phone and called
Shep every morning.  And he would call me every afternoon.  We had to be
careful what we said over those phones, but during each call, we managed to
express how much we missed each other.  Shep was no longer on field duty
with a unit, but was now assigned an administrative job with his
detachment.

The time soon came for me to rotate back to the States.  Shep still had
several months left in his Korean tour of duty.  Before I left, I gained
permission to take a jeep and drive over to Shep's unit to say goodbye.  We
drove up into the hills and sat and talked for several hours.  I promised
to go and see his parents when I got back home and assure them that he was
alright.  I told him, also, that I was going to break off with Karen.  I
admitted to him that she was no longer what I needed in my life.  I stopped
short of telling him that I wanted to live the rest of my life with him.
He told me that he was doing the same thing.  He had yet to receive the
first letter from Lisa, and that was okay.  Everything had changed.  He
said only that he now knew what he wanted in his life, and she would not
have a part in it.  He also stopped short of telling me what it was he now
wanted.  I think we both knew.  Nothing had to be said.  We just knew.

Before we parted, we held each other in our arms for a long time.  He told
me he had never seen my hair until now.  He said he loved my dark brown
curly hair.  I reached over and brushed his light blond hair out of his
eyes and said, "I remember I did this that night when you had that bad
fever."

We touched each other's cheeks, now clean shaven.  We both had dimples and
we smiled as we ran our fingers over them.  We promised we would write each
other every day.

After I arrived home in Lincoln, my parents wanted to throw a big welcome
home party, and they would invite Karen.  I told them that I appreciated
it, but I didn't want a party.  That first night home, I sat in my room and
looked around at all the old familiar things that were just where they were
the day I left.  I was glad to be home, but my mind was on Shep.  As I sat
down to write my first letter to him, my dad came in.

"Well, son," he said.  "It's so good to have you home.  I've missed you.
We've all missed you.  I suppose you'll be calling on Karen tomorrow."

"Dad, sit down," I said.  "I want to talk with you about that.  I don't
want to see Karen.  But I'm going to have to.  I'm going to break it off
between us."

"Break it off?"

"I only got two letters from her, dad, the whole time I was over there."

"Only two?"

"Yeah.  But that's not the reason.  Dad, I'm a different person now than I
was when I left."

"I know, son," dad said.  "The war and all.  And getting wounded.  All
young men are changed by war."

"Dad, it isn't the war or getting wounded.  Not directly anyway.  I don't
know exactly how to put it.  I met someone over there.  And he changed my
life.  He changed the whole world I live in.  I'm no longer the same person
I was when I left here, Dad.  Somehow, I saw into the soul of another
person.  It wasn't a woman; it was a man like myself.  And when I did, I
saw kindness and an unselfish heart, something I never saw with any girl I
used to date.  We became part of each other.  We were one soul, one heart.
That never happened with me and Karen, or with any other girl."

I waited for dad to react badly to this revelation.  But, without changing
his expression, he said merely, "Yes, go on.  I understand."

I got up and sat next to dad on the edge of the bed and said, "Dad, he and
I almost died together, and we would have been content to do so.  Does that
make any sense?  But we saved each other.  I never felt so selfless in my
life.  He was all that mattered to me.  We became one in both heart and
soul. We were either going to die together or we were going to help each
other stay alive.  I know all that's hard to understand.  Two men feeling
this way about each other."

Dad reached over and took my hand and said, "I do understand, son.  Believe
me I do understand."

"I never thought you would, dad."  Then I turned to face and said, "Was
there something you . . . ."

"Not now, son.  This time belongs to you and . . . .  What's this young
man's name?"

"His name is Shep.  Shepard Cramer.  It's amazing, but his home is right
here in Lincoln.  But he won't be home for another several months when his
tour is over."

"Shep Cramer?" dad said, raising his voice slightly.  "I know his father,
Harvey Cramer."

"That's right," I said.  "He said his father's name was Harvey."

That's a real coincidence," dad said.  "I went to school with Harvey
Cramer.  He's now the president of Lincoln Steel Fabricating, a really big
firm doing business all over the midwest.  He's a big supplier of steel for
our company.  But we're always fighting over price.  He can be an obstinate
bastard.  I keep threatening to take my business elsewhere.  But he
eventually gives in.  He's mentioned his son, Shepard, a few times and I
think he wants him to come into the business.  Harvey's a shrew
businessman, and not always easy to get along with when it comes to
negotiating a purchase.  But we've always managed to remain friends."

I said, "Dad, I'm glad you know Shep's dad.  I'm anxious for you to meet
him when he comes home.  He has a girlfriend, too, waiting for him to come
home.  But that's finished also."

The next morning, I called Karen and asked her to meet me at Thelma's
Coffee Shop near where she lived.  Before we went in and sat down, she gave
me a big hug and a kiss.  But she never said "Welcome home" or asked me how
I was.  As soon as we sat down, she launched into her plans for the
wedding.

I stopped her and said, "Karen, this is the last time we'll be seeing each
other."  She sat stunned and unbelieving.  "Karen, I'm not the same person
you knew before I left.  I don't want to get married.  I never gave you any
reason to believe that I did."

"You met someone else, didn't you?" she said, dropping her hands in her
lap.

"Yes."

"Who is she, Will?"

"It's not a she," I said, looking directly at her.  "It's another man like
myself.  We met on the battlefield in Korea."  I didn't know how to explain
to her the kind of relationship Shep and I had developed.  I simply said,
"We became very close, and I've learned a lot about myself and what it
means to really love someone."

Karen leaned toward me and said, "So you learned that you don't love me.
You love him, is that it?"

"I didn't say that.  I simply said I've learned something about love and
what it really means.  He has become a very close friend."

"He's a close friend?  You love him?" said Karen with sarcasm in her voice.
"It sounds to me, Will, that there is a lot more to that friendship than
you're telling me.  Can you deny that?

"I won't confirm or deny anything to you Karen.  I don't need to explain my
relationship with him to anyone.  You wouldn't understand it if I tried.
All you need to know is that you and I will not be seeing each other
again."

Karen sat back in her chair and grinned that snarly little grin of hers.
"What's his name?"

"It's Shep Cramer," I said.

"Oh!" she said as she raised her voice.  "So it's Shep!  Who would have
thought it?  Well, I know something about him.  His girl friend, Lisa, has
been sitting around here pining away for him ever since he left."

I interrupted.  "She wasn't pining for him, Karen.  She never wrote Shep a
single letter since he left.  It doesn't sound like pining to me."

"Well, let me tell you, lover boy," she continued, "Lisa got a letter from
him just the other day, and he told her to fuck off!"

"Please, Karen," I said, "it doesn't sound nice when you talk that way.  I
don't like it."

"Well, I'm not a nice girl, am I, Will?" she said angrily.  "And I guess it
doesn't really matter now whether you like the way I talk or not, does it?"

"I suppose not," I said.  "But I was hoping you would understand."

Karen stood up and looked down at me and said, "You come home and tell me
you've decided you're in love with another man, and that I can go to Hell.
And you can't figure out why I don't understand?  Well, you and your sweet
Shep can go ahead and have your little perverted affair.  I'm just glad I
found out about you in time."

With this little speech, Karen stormed out.  I knew that I had handled it
badly, but at the same time, a feeling of enormous relief swept over me.
And I smiled to myself over the news that Shep had written Lisa and told
her to . . . well, fuck off.  Knowing Shep, though, I was sure he handled
it much better than I had. Shep told me about it in one of his letters that
I received several days after my confrontation with Karen.  He said that he
had gotten a very nasty letter from Lisa in return.

After my 30-day leave, I was assigned to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas to finish
out the last several months of my three-year enlistment.  Shep and I wrote
every day without fail.  I missed him more than I had ever missed anyone in
my life.

Shep was due to come home in July, just about the time I would be
discharged.  He had been drafted for only two years, and he would be
discharged shortly after returning to the States.  The wait was
interminable.  But the time did finally arrive.  He would be flying into
San Francisco and would be processed for discharge there at Fort Ord.  The
timing was perfect.  We arranged that two days after my discharge, I would
fly out to San Francisco and we would spend a few days together alone
before returning to Lincoln.

Shep had written his parents that he had met me in Korea, and they were
delighted since they were acquainted with my own parents, with the two
fathers having had business dealings with each other.  I rented a car and
met Shep at the Fort Ord gate.  When he got into the car, we threw our arms
around each other.  We both had tears in our eyes.  Then we laughed because
we were crying and then we cried and laughed some more.  It was the moment
for which we had both been waiting so long.

When we arrived at the hotel, it was close to 9 o'clock in the evening, and
we went directly to our room.  We sat down and looked at each other for a
long time.  We both knew what we wanted.  Our souls and our hearts had been
wedded into one.  But we had both craved for so long to have our bodies
joined as well.  The heavy clothing that had separated us when we had tried
to be close and become part of each other's physical being in Korea was no
longer there to keep our bodies apart.  It was the strength and the
maleness of our bodies that we needed now in order to complete the union of
our beings.

As though we heard a signal we stood up and went to each other.  It was
time to bring our bodies together, male skin pressed against male skin.
When we were on the ground in Korea, Shep had run his fingers gently over
the skin of my face, and on my stomach and back as he dressed my wound.
And I had touched the skin of his leg as I removed his boot.  It had only
been a taste to excite our cravings.  As we stood there, we slowly
undressed each other, touching our tongues and lips to the skin of each
part of our bodies as it was exposed, taking in the masculine smell of
maleness and strength that we each possessed and gave freely to the other.

Shep's body was slender, yet strong and masculine.  He was not particularly
muscular, but his muscles were well defined and well proportioned.  His
skin had a golden hue, with light brown hair covering his beautifully
shaped legs and foreharms.  His nipples were large and hard, peeking out of
a dusting of blond hair that covered his chest.  There he stood in the
Earthly beauty of his nakedness, offering himself to me.  He was mine and
would be mine forever.

Shep remarked about my own body and said that he could see that I had the
physique of a swimmer.  The maleness of my body excited him.  The dark hair
that grew in swirls on my chest, the dark trail of dreams that ran from my
navel into my pubic hair.

With our clothes lying strewn about the floor, we fell upon the bed, our
naked bodies now totally exposed to each other.  We were now one body, as
though we had ingested each other's skin.  We devoured every inch of our
bodies with our tongues and lips and fingers.  We now belonged to each
other, inextricably bound by love and overpowering devotion.  Our bodies
were wet with our saliva and our sweat.  We drank in everything from each
other's mouth, as though we were in a wild frenzy to climb into each
other's body and remain there permanently.

Shep kissed and licked the scar on my back feverishly.  To us both, that
scar was almost sacred, a symbol of the deep love and friendship we now
shared, of a bond that could never be severed.

Our love was strong.  But it was not founded on sexual lust.  It was born
out of our near death experience, the caring we felt when it appeared we
had no one else but each other for our survival.  It was love, but it was a
love different from any kind of love I had ever heard of or read about.

We lay in each other's arms and breathed in each other's breath as we had
done on those dark nights on the other side of the world.  Since we knew we
were now one, it was truly the breath of life for both of us.

We left the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door and spent the entire next day
in each other's arms with our skin pressed together.  And we didn't eat.
It was almost like a religious requirement between us that we would relive
one more time the hunger that we had shared in the beginning.  That night,
we continued to wrap our bodies tightly around each other.  Our penises
were hard and dripping.  We masturbated and then took each other's sperm on
our tongues.  Swallowing it, as a final consummation of a love that would
never die, we both had now taken the fluid into our bodies that came from
deep inside of us.

On the flight back to Lincoln, we decided that we would tell our parents
that we were going to go away with each other for at a least a year, with
the promise that we would return to enter college.  We didn't know where we
would go.  Perhaps to Hawaii, perhaps to Florida, or maybe to the mountains
in Colorado.  It didn't matter.  Whatever we did we would be together, no
matter what.

After Shep arrived home, he had told his parents about our decision.  They
were disappointed that he had broken off his relationship with Lisa, as
well as his decision to delay going to college.  But they had already heard
from my dad about Shep and I meeting in Korea and were prepared for that.

Shep and I pooled our money and bought a used, low mileage, 1951 Chevy.  We
had decided to go off to the Rocky Mountains and look for what temporary
work we could in one of the cities in the region, such as Boulder or
Golden, or maybe Colorado Springs.

When the day came to leave, Shep's mom and dad came to our house so they
and my mom and dad could see us off together.  Our two fathers helped us
load up the car.  Then after hugs all around, we drove off with our parents
smiling and waving to us from the porch.  It was to be the beginning of a
living dream.  Our lives were no longer illusionary; they were real.

The end of Will Kilmer's narrative.

EPILOGUE

Following Will Kilmer's departure that day with Shep Cramer, Will and
Shep's mothers went on into the house, while Charlie Kilmer and Harvey
Cramer sat down on the porch swing to talk.

Harvey said, "Amazing, isn't it?  Those two young men, both from Lincoln,
getting to know each other way off there on the other side of the world.

"I never dreamed this would happen, Harvey," said Charlie.

Harvey said, "They're kind of chips off the old block, aren't they?"

Charlie said, "Harvey, when Will told me about this, he was sure I wouldn't
understand."

"Did you tell him, Charlie?  You know . . . about . . ."

"No, I never did.  I just did my best to make him realize I understood.  I
thought about telling him, but I just never did."

Harvey said, "Remember when you and I met when we were that age, we were
both afraid to tell our parents."

"Those were different days, Harvey.  We would have been disowned if we had
told them."

"You're right, that's for sure.  And another big difference then was that
we bowed to our family's pressure to get married and have a family."

Charlie said, "I know.  But I guess we shouldn't really regret that because
look at the two wonderful sons we produced.  But I've often wondered what
our life together would have been like, Harvey, if we'd done what we had
planned."

"You mean go off together to Alaska?"

"Yeah," Charlie sighed.  "We could have done it.  The great depression was
just starting, and neither of us could get jobs.  And our parents didn't
have enough money to send us to college at that time."

Harvey took Charlie's hand in his and said, "We've never lost our love for
each other, Charlie.  After that train wreck on our way to Chicago when we
were the boys' age, we managed to keep each other alive down in that
freezing water for three days.  It happened to us like it happened to Will
and Shep.  Your love and your caring during those horrible hours were the
greatest gift I could ever be given.  I have a friend, Mark.  You know him.
He's told me a number of times that he believes all accidents have a
purpose.  And I believe him.

"I agree with him, too," Charlie said.

Charlie and Harvey sat silently and looked out into the distance for
awhile.  Then Harvey turned to Charlie and said, "Do you think we should
have told the boys?  They might have understood."

Charlie leaned back in the swing and, with his hands clasped behind his
head, said, "Every man has his secrets.  All men are entitled to them.
Don't you agree, Harvey?  Our lives don't have to be an open book for
everyone to see.  Our secrets are like jewels in a vault.  They're
precious, and they're ours.  I don't like men who throw their sexuality in
my face and demand that I accept it.  I would never do that to anyone, not
even my son.  I'm content to continue living my illusionary life in the
open, as long as you and I continue to share our precious secret, Harvey.
That's our reality."

Harvey said, "But Will and Shep made it pretty clear to us about
themselves."

"Not really, Harvey.  They simply told us about the strong bond that had
been forged between them during their difficult experience together.  That
was all.  I never asked Will any questions.  I just assured him that I
understood.  There was no discussion whatsoever about his sexuality."

"You're right, Charlie," said Harvey.  "It's our secret and, yes, we are
entitled to it.  And so are Will and Shep.  It's no one else's business.
We're a part of each other, and there's no need for anyone else to be
burdened with trying to understand it.  By the way, Charlie, don't you
think we're past due for one of our get-away fishing trips up in
Minnesota?"

"That's right, Harvey," said Charlie as he patted Harvey's thigh.  "You
know, we're due for another one of those trips.  I suddenly have a
hankerin' to . . . you know . . . catch some fish."

"Great idea," said Harvey.  "Let's both get off a little early this Friday
and drive up there for the weekend.  We've got some catchin' up to do, if
you know what I mean.  And while we're at it, we'll call it a sort of
celebration for those two boys of ours who have done what you and I didn't
have the balls to do when we were their age.  Okay?"

"It's a deal!" said Charlie, as they got up to join their wives in the
house.


This has been a single-installment story.  For those who wonder what
happened to Will and Shep, remember they had forged an unusual and
unbreakable bond between them, unlike some very young male couples today,
whose relationships are balanced precariously on a thin wire of lust and
uncertainty.  We can only suppose that Will and Shep would have lived a
full, happy, and loving life together.  Comments of any kind are welcome.

Tom Borden
Tombor99@yahoo.com