Another Summer in Georgia

Chapter 10

I looked at Jim, then at Jerrod’s aunt. I couldn’t believe it: she smiled. My mouth dropped open, and she saw it. She winked at me. “It was way too much house for me and was insured for two mil. I was planning to sell it, anyway. Now I don’t have to.”

“Was that what I think it was,” Mr. Clark asked.

The deputy seemed unable to speak. Jim took the laptop back from him, moved it so the camera would show who was speaking, and said, “Yes, sir. But the only ones hurt were likely the two terrorists left alive. They were low-level recruits. Probably not much we could get out of them anyway. Their leader is under watch now. At some point, you’ll have a lot of info from him. Right now, this cell is completely shut down. Anything else tonight, sir?”

There wasn’t. Very soon thereafter we were taken to the motel, and the long Friday night was about over.

ʃ   ʃ   ʃ   ʃ

At the motel, we got two additional rooms. Jerrod and I were together; the other two were singles. Jerrod wasn’t right. What really told me that was how he reacted to Fitz jumping up and down when he saw him. Fitz didn’t jump on people like some dogs did; he knew better. But he did everything else to show how delighted he was to see Jerrod. Yet Jerrod more of less ignored him, staying close to me. That told me all I needed to know about Jerrod’s condition. Those two were real buddies, and Jerrod being Jerrod would have been down on the floor, rolling around with Fitz and laughing like crazy. When we went to bed, naked as usual, I spooned up behind him and held him, and I think he was asleep before I even had settled into a comfortable position. He slept without moving through the short night that remained and into the morning. I didn’t want to awaken him, so when I heard a soft knock on our door, I was careful slipping out of bed. I couldn’t open the door; I hadn’t had my morning pee yet, and it’d have been obvious had I pulled the door open. I called out a soft, “Yeah?”

Jim’s voice came back just as soft. “We’ll be at the café across the drive from the motel. No rush.”

I hit the bathroom, then got back in bed with Jerrod. I was still tired, too. It was ten AM, but we hadn’t hit the sheets till after four. After what we’d been through, especially Jerrod, six hours wasn’t nearly enough.

I fell back asleep and was again awakened by a knock on the door. I glanced at the clock. One thirty-six in the afternoon. Now I felt rested. I looked at Jerrod, who was still in my arms. His eyes were open. They looked much clearer than they had been the night before, but there was still worry showing, and a vagueness which I found unsettling.

“I have to pee,” he said and wrestled off the covers. He was in the same condition I’d been in.

I grabbed my boxers, slipped them on and went to the door. Jim was there, and I let him in.

“The cops had set up a meeting with us this afternoon, but it got cancelled. I guess Washington didn’t want any of this getting into the papers. They’re going to cover up the terrorists’ involvement and ascribe the explosion to a gas leak; they’ll say no on was home at that time. So we’re done with it all. I can take you home whenever. Jerrod’s aunt says she’ll stay here to get her insurance claim going and see what’s recoverable at the house. Then she says she’ll come visit you guys in Fredricksville.”

Jerrod walked out of the bathroom then. He was still nude. He even still had some of his wake-up stiffness, but he didn’t seem at all concerned about it, even with Jim in the room. Maybe spending several days nude had changed his perspective a bit. Maybe his desire to walk in the woods nude wouldn’t be so strong any longer now that the illicit excitement of being nude and the slight chance of being seen that way had been taken away from him. He’d been very modest before. Now? Not so much. Or maybe it was something more than that. His eyes still didn’t look entirely right to me, and he rarely seemed able to meet anyone else’s, not even mine.

I knew he’d been under a stress that I couldn’t relate to, not on a visceral level. He’d been scared during the days he’d been a captive. He must have thought there was a chance he could be killed any and every time that door opened. That had to have had an effect on him. It would on anyone.

Jim took us to the café. I was starved. Jerrod still wasn’t speaking unless he was asked a direct question, and then he would answer without looking up—when he actually did respond, using as few words as possible. I decided that things could be moving too fast for him. He was still getting used to having been saved, and it would be best if I didn’t push him. I was hoping he’d come out of it in his own time.

But I spent most of the time in the café watching him, which was easy to do because he was keeping his eyes on his plate. He didn’t seem to be entirely with us. It was like he was trapped inside his head, perhaps reliving the terror he’d been experiencing all those days he’d been locked in that room. Jerrod was a sensitive kid. It was one of the things I loved about him. He wasn’t shy, but modest, thoughtful, a little reserved around people he didn’t know well, a little cautious, and I wasn’t a bit surprised his reaction to what had happened to him was much different from how it would have been for a lot of other boys. He’d probably been trying to make sense of the ‘why me’ question? The ‘what did I do to deserve this’ aspect of it, and with no answer to that, along with the constant fear that had had to be present, he’d sunk into a mental fugue. He didn’t know till now that he’d had nothing to do with his confinement, with the why of it, and in fact still probably hadn’t understood that Jim had been the focus of the terrorists, not him. It had a little more to do with me, a lot more to do with Jim, and he himself was the ultimate innocent bystander.

We were done in Florida, and there was no reason to remain there. After eating, the four of us piled back in the car and took off north, destination Fredricksville.

Jerrod sat in the backseat. He’d been the first to the car and chosen that seat. I’d been about to get in with him when Jim caught my eye and nodded toward the front seat. Fitz saw where I was going and jumped in the back before the door closed. He lay on the seat and put his head in Jerrod’s lap. He’d been happy to see Jerrod when we’d arrived at the motel last night, but Jerrod had pretty much ignored his attention. Now, Fitz was being attentive in another way, a gentle, soothing one. How do dogs know?

Driving north, this was the first time the three of us humans had to discuss what we’d just gone through. I guessed that was why Jim had wanted me in the front seat, and then I discovered there was more to it than that.

Jim was insightful, and he could be devious. Little by little, I realized what Jim was trying to do, and I joined in, finding it easy to play along and help.

We drove up US 1, staying at or under the speed limit. Jim was very relaxed. He chatted desultorily about what was out the windows, the glimpses of the Atlantic we could see, the towns we drove through, state parks and forests, even his opinion of the Interstates we crossed, relating things he’d read in touring books. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world and was in no rush whatsoever to get where we were going.

Myself, I was getting impatient with him. I was sure he was up to something. By now I knew him well, and his too-casual body language told me something was up, something was coming. I just had to wait till he was ready.

But waiting was hard for me, just as it always had been. I wanted to talk about the past few days, what had happened, how I’d felt, that sort of thing. Jim would look at me when viewing things out my window to the right, and I think he saw my irritation. I think he figured me out pretty quickly, because the last couple of times his glance was in my direction, he nodded slightly. I thought he was giving me the go ahead to talk about what I wanted to talk about.

So I did. When there was a gap in his prattle, I said, “We can talk about what we did, can’t we?”

I could see a very quick, very slim smile form and disappear on his face. “Sure, if you want. What needs discussing?”

I harrumphed. “A lot. Like, for instance, you jumping out of a plane in the dark. You could have drifted off anywhere. You could have landed high in a tree in the woods, gotten stuck there. How did you know you’d land on the roof of that one specific house in the middle of the woods?”

Jim chuckled dismissively, like that was really nothing special. “Colt, I’ve done a lot of training jumps, both day and night jumps. The first few times at night, it’s pretty scary. But like most things, you get better with repetition. I had the best trainers in the world working with me. And I’ve used a jetpack harness before. I knew how much control that gave me. I knew how good you were running that drone, and that you’d lay the lights in just the right places on the roof. With my night-vision goggles, they were easy to see; I’d known they would be. I’d checked the winds beforehand. I knew their direction and strength and how much they’d affect my drift. Everything went just the way I had it worked out.”

“But what if—” That was as far as I got before he interrupted me.

“What if it didn’t work out? If I drifted too far? If the lights didn’t work? I didn’t think any of that was likely, but I’d also located a field off Lionel Road without any trees where I could make an emergency landing if I had to. Then we’d simply put off the rescue till the next night. No harm, no foul.”

I saw Jerrod squirm a bit in the backseat. He hadn’t said one word yet, seeming to be oblivious to us in the front, but from his reaction to hearing the rescue could have been put off another day, I knew he was listening. And just that quickly, I knew what Jim was doing. He was trying to get Jerrod to relive what he’d gone through, where he’d been and where he was now, and maybe by doing that he could earn some closure. Now that I knew what his plan was, I could help. I could lead Jim through the entire rescue just by asking the right questions in sequence.

Fitz had been lying on the seat, his head on Jerrod’s leg. Now, he wriggled a bit closer. Jerrod’s hands were folded in his lap, and Fitz put his nose under them and pushed forward until Jerrod’s hands were lying on his head.

Then I saw something I decided was very encouraging. After a moment, I saw Jerrod move his lower hand, the one touching Fitz’s head. And he began a very slight stroking movement with it. I smiled and turned back in my seat.

I decided to change tack just a little with the help I was trying to give to Jim’s plan. I’d go back further, back to when it all seemed to start for me. Maybe that would get Jerrod thinking back further than the rescue as well.

And maybe, eventually, I could even ask Jerrod directly about some specific thing. He might respond to that. It might help him. But I could work around that right off the bat.

“Another thing,” I said, speaking to Jim. “I never did speak to Jerrod on the phone. Do you think they would have permitted that if I’d got really adamant about doing so?”

“I doubt Jerrod knew anything about your messages. They’d taken his phone when they’d stripped him. Hers, too. I don’t know if they’d ever have let him speak to you, but I think they believed it might come to that. Otherwise…”

I squirmed then, thinking he was going too far. I detected a slight movement in the backseat as well. But obviously Jim thought the entire incident was open for review, and it might help Jerrod to see that all his fears had come to naught. I guessed Jim had more experience in this sort of thing than I did.

Anyway, I changed the subject. “Yeah, that stripping them. What was that all about?”

“That had both a physical and psychological intent. When people are naked, they tend to be much less confrontational and aggressive. They feel vulnerable in a way they don’t when clothed. Being naked, they rarely give their captives any trouble at all. They become meek and compliant. And the reality of the physical part is, without shoes, it would have been very hard for them to run even if they could have gotten out of the house. I found a way around that with the towels. By themselves, I doubt they’d have gotten very far.”

That made sense to me. I’d been worried that some sexual abuse might have been the reason for their forced nakedness. But most likely Jerrod’s aunt would have taken the brunt of that, and she seemed better mentally than Jerrod did, so I doubted that the captives had been at her that way. I didn’t think she’d have come through this as well as she had otherwise.

While I was considering this, Jim asked me a question. I think mostly he just wanted to keep it all alive in Jerrod’s mind.

“You killed a man. Have you thought about that? Does it bother you?”

I paused before answering. I hadn’t really given it much thought. Now I did. It didn’t take me long. “It happened really fast. The first two guys I shot, I knew the shots weren’t lethal. I aimed specifically so they wouldn’t be. Those are the two who blew themselves up awhile later—well, I assume they did. I don’t think they had a way to blow up their vests from a distance away, and they’d both been shot and figured they’d soon be captured when the cops figured out what was what. Besides, they didn’t mind dying, and maybe they welcomed it. Being martyrs and all that. I don’t feel anything at all about them. The other one, well, that’s a little different, but only because I actually did shoot to kill him.”

I stopped to take a deep breath, then continued. “It all happened so fast. Mostly, I was thinking about Jerrod, not myself. I could tell Jerrod wasn’t quite right. He was stumbling a bit when walking and didn’t seem to fully understand what was happening, that we in fact were running for our lives. When I heard that guy coming up behind us, I pushed Jerrod to safety behind a tree, but I wasn’t sure he’d stay there. He might have just stood up and walked back to where I’d taken a shooting position across the path. That was mostly what I was thinking about. Then the man appeared, and I shot him in the leg so he couldn’t follow us any farther.”

I stopped momentarily, visualizing the scene again. “Then I heard what sounded like anger or frustration in his scream, and I saw him reach for the vest he was wearing. I didn’t really have time to think. I just felt—well, knew—he was about to blow us all up, and I wasn’t going to let him do that. So I stopped him the only way I could. I killed him.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “It doesn’t bother me. It was self-defense, the guy had kidnapped Jerrod to get to you, and he wanted you dead. He might well have killed Jerrod if I hadn’t shot him when I did. Now he’s dead, and I did it, but I’d do it again in an instant. I don’t feel bad about it.”

Again, movement in the backseat. But no words. Jim didn’t say anything either, cogitating over what I’d said. Maybe he thought killing that man should have upset me. Or maybe not. He’d killed several people; he’d done so in the national interest. My killing had been more for selfish reasons: I’d wanted to protect Jim and Jerrod, and at the end myself, too, when it came to that. I didn’t think it was wrong to have done that.

I did want Jerrod to come out of the funk he was in. So eventually, I spoke to Jim again. “You killed the guy in the hallway after he opened the lock on that room. Did that bother you?”

“Probably should have, but he was drawing his gun. It was certainly self-defense, and by doing it, I saved Jerrod and his aunt, too. I’ve done it before. I never feel happy about it, but if it needs to be done, and it’s for the right reasons, no, it doesn’t bother me. The world is a safer place without these sorts in it.”

I accepted that. But I wanted to continue with things to keep Jerrod thinking, if that’s what we were doing. “How did they respond when you woke them up, after you got into their room?”

“The aunt was both relieved and scared. She wanted out of there. She didn’t want to bother with the vest. She didn’t care she was naked. She just wanted to run. Jerrod, well, he hugged me, but seemed sort of spacey. I don’t think he really comprehended much of anything. He was very compliant, which helped me. I’ve rescued people before, and they’re usually like she was: eager to run without much thought. Getting them to do what you tell them to can be difficult, but if they don’t, they can get killed. Jerrod made it easy for me. Until we were in the woods.”

“What happened then? I was shocked to see him by himself on the path. I almost knocked him down; almost tripped over him. I thought you were herding him and his aunt to the house.”

Jim shrugged. “He said the only word then I heard from him all the time this was going on. He said, “Colt,” then stopped and started back along the path. Just then his aunt called for me. I had a choice to make, and I figured he’d be safe with you. Turned out, you had more excitement than I did, but you handled it. You know how incredible you are, Colt?”

I blushed. I’m not one to blush, but that comment, coming out of the blue like it did, just caught me by surprise, and I couldn’t help it. I blushed. I guess you never can help it when you do that.

I settled back into my seat and didn’t respond to his comment. I mean, what does one say when someone says something like that? I sure didn’t have a comeback.

We rode in silence for a time, and then Jim, with a glance over his shoulder into the backseat, asked, “You okay back there, Jerrod?” I was sure he just wanted to see if there’d be anything forthcoming. I was surprised about what happened then. I turned to look at him, too, and saw more life and understanding in his eyes than had been there since we’d rescued him.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice a little scratchy.

“You do?” I asked.

He actually smiled. “You’re making me think. Remember. Understand that I’m all right now.”

“Holy cow,” I said. I looked at Jim. “It worked.”

Jim laughed. “Maybe. Maybe we can get him to tell us what happened. We know what we did. We have only conjectures about what happened to him.”

I turned back around to Jerrod. “Can you talk about it?” I asked. I didn’t want to ask questions; I didn’t want to force a memory he wasn’t able to face.

“Maybe,” he said, and grinned. It was Jerrod’s grin. “I feel like I’m just waking up. Like those threads of dreams that linger during your first few moments of wakefulness are still there but dissipating.”

I looked over at Jim. “See what I told you? Does that sound like someone who’d want to show me something that was neat?”

I heard, “Huh?” from the backseat. Jim answered it.

“That’s why we suspected something was wrong. The first message we got from the terrorists, the first time they finally answered one of Colt’s messages to you, they said come on down, you had something neat for him to see.”

Jerrod turned his eyes from the back of Jim’s head to meet mine. “And you say I’m the smart one!”

I grinned. “You are, and you know it. But I never said I was stupid. Just not world class like you are. But,” I asked, changing the subject, “tell us what happened, how they caught you? That’s something we know nothing about.”

“Pretty much nothing special,” he said. “I was there with my aunt in her house, there was a knock on the door, she opened it, and there they were with guns. They didn’t explain anything, just forced us upstairs into the room and told us to undress. I didn’t want to, but the one with the gun pointed it at my leg and said do it or they’d shoot me in the knee, then her. It was only clothes. I didn’t want to do it but didn’t think I had much of a choice, either. I was scared and not thinking very clearly.

“We both took everything off. They hardly even looked at us. As we were disrobing, one of them was nailing a piece of plywood over the window, another was fastening a hasp on the outside of the door. They took all our clothes and left. That was it.

“I felt really awkward, being naked with her, and her with me, but in time that no longer mattered. We had no idea what was happening, but at least they were feeding us. They left bottles of water with us, too, and a bucket. We figured out what that was for pretty quickly. Talk about embarrassing. I guess you can get used to anything.”

He stopped for a moment, seeming to need to collect his thoughts. Finally, with no further prodding, he went on. “The longer it went on, days and days, the more it started to affect me. Aunt Bernice seemed to be okay. I was sinking into a depression. She kept saying that if they were going to kill us, they’d have done it already and wouldn’t be feeding us. I didn’t know what was going to happen, and that was what I couldn’t take. I kept imagining outcomes and never did come up with a good one. I’d given up hope by the time you came, Jim.”

“They never talked to you at all? Never told you anything.”

“Except for taking off our clothes, and only one guy told us to do that. We didn’t even know if the others spoke English. We didn’t know why they were there, what they wanted. You know me; I want to know everything about everything. That was one of the reasons this affected me as much as it did. I hated not knowing anything about anything. That made it all worse.”

I nodded. One of the things that was different about the two of us was, I figured a lot of things out simply by watching, listening and paying attention. He was always asking questions. I didn’t much like to. Growing up, most things I asked my dad were answered with sarcasm, laughter or lies. You learn not to ask much when that’s what the response is.

We got into Fredricksville in the early evening. Jim had spoken on the phone from the car to our parents, telling them what had happened as tersely and unemotionally as possible. They’d then spoken at length to Jerrod, and even me, making sure we were all right. We were greeted by his parents rushing from the house and wrapping both of us in hugs, trading off so they both got both of us. I’d swear, they were showing as much concern for me as for Jerrod. They were amazing people.

The house had four bedrooms. Jerrod’s parent slept in the master bedroom; Jerrod and I had our own bedrooms, and that’s where we slept. His parents knew we were boyfriends. They approved of Jerrod’s choice, and I guess with mine, too. They had to realize we were doing things together. At our age, of course we were. But they never mentioned it. They did say we needed to have and use our own bedrooms. So that’s what we’d always done.

We’d of course found times, as I said earlier, not to fool around but to show each other how much we meant to each other. Not being able to spend our nights together limited that sort of activity more than either of us liked, but I wasn’t going to do anything against my new parents’ wishes. They’d never once told us not to be sexual with each other. That meant when we were physical, it wasn’t violating their trust. They had to know that boys our age, in love, were going to be active. They knew, but didn’t want to discuss it. So that’s how things had always been.

This night it was different. This night, Jim stayed in the guest room, the fourth bedroom, and when Fitz, Jerrod and I went up, Jerrod’s mom stopped us.

“Colt, with what Jerrod’s been through, he might have awful dreams. I think it would be best if you slept in with him. He’d probably feel better if you were there with him.”

I opened my eyes wider. “Really?” I could hardly believe it. Wow!

Me, being me, and having a wicked sense of humor and not much restraint, well, I had to push the issue. I sort of grinned at her and said, mostly teasing, “Uh, how long will this new, uh, situation, last?”

She looked back at me, and I saw the same grin I was giving her, one that was loving, knowing, and just a bit wicked. She too had a great sense of humor, and she showed it with that grin. Then she sobered up and said softly, endearingly, “For as long as he wants you to be there, Colt. And thank you for saving my other son.”

Jerrod did need me that night, but not for comforting. He needed me for the same reason I had a constant longing for him. It had been way too long since we’d had any sort of sex between us. Now, for the first time, we were doing it in his house with his mother’s permission. That’s what that grin and then the soft voice was all about. She knew it, and I knew she knew it.

I thought we’d have sex. I thought he might need it more than I did. I wanted it; maybe he needed it. He had just survived, he was still a functioning teenager—perhaps he needed proof positive of that, in the most meaningful way possible. Proof he was fully alive, fully vital. In any case, I thought I’d go really softly, gently doing what he wanted, probably a lot more holding and cuddling and some soothing hands and slippery tongues and a lot of skin pressed together. Maybe no more than that. Maybe just awareness of each other, pressed against each other would be enough.

He had a much different idea.

I don’t know if what actually happened that night was due to the time apart we’d had or the result of his realization that we might have never been together again, or his reawakening to the fact he truly was still alive. I think maybe, for the first time since he’d been rescued, he was fully aware that he had escaped the fate he’d resigned himself to, that what had happened was behind him, that he was safe. But as we stripped off, as we moved together for an initial kiss, I could see something in his eyes, something vital, something burning, coming alive, something compelling and urgent.

When we fell onto the bed, his arms were around me, and the gentle kiss suddenly became fierce and insistent.

Then he was on top of me, and his need was overpowering. It wasn’t only passion, but passion was a large part of it, his way of expressing the emotions he was feeling. He was wild and ardent and all over me, and he brought his emotional state to me. Suddenly I was as alive as he was, more so than I’d ever felt before, his emotions bringing the same insistence to me, stirring my own. Both our emotional states were through the roof, uncontrollable, unrestrained. We fed off each other, neither of us feeling limits.

I think our souls melded together. I’d never felt anything like what I felt with him that night. It was as though I could feel not only what was happening to me but also what he was feeling. Every touch and stroke and lick I gave him, I also felt their effects. He responded, and the more he repeated what I did to him, the more his skin slid over mine, the more he pressed against me and fired my passions, the more his own arousal and urgency grew. It was as though with every stroke, every touch, he was shouting, ‘I’m alive, I made it, I’m still here,’ and I was answering, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

It was all far beyond whatever we’d done before. I don’t know how long we tumbled and writhed with each other, but we both met our climaxes together, and then went on and met them again. We were both absolutely, totally spent when it finally came to an end. Neither of us had either the strength or inclination to get up and clean ourselves or straighten the bed. Instead, he fell asleep in my arms, and I in his, and we slept the sleep of the dead. Or in our case, the sleep of the fully restored, happy, content and sated.

Jerrod slept long and hard that night. I did much the same, only rousing a little when my position became uncomfortable and I had to move an arm from under him. I moved and ended up holding him, spooning him from behind, and almost immediately fell back into slumber. It was way past noon before we wakened. Fitz was grinning at us. Someone had let him out in the morning and back in. I knew that because he was showing no discomfort, no desire to be let out. He was perched on his pad next to our bed with the door to our room closed, a knowing look in his eyes. Maybe he smelled what I’d smelled when he’d had his fun on that farm in Georgia. Maybe it brought back memories.

Someone had tended to his morning needs. That someone had certainly seen us on the bed together, locked together but mostly uncovered in the tangled sheets. I felt so languid, so content, so secure, I didn’t even mind the thought of that. I knew they knew. I knew they didn’t mind. I hoped they’d smiled, seeing us sleeping wrapped around each other, seeing how we fit together. I didn’t need to hope; I knew they were happy for us.

Fitz put one paw up on the bed, asking up. I’d swear he was grinning knowingly at me. I laughed at him and nodded. He jumped up on the bed and tried to wriggle between Jerrod and me. Not this time, my eyes told him, and he lay down next to me where I made room for him.

I placed a hand on his fur. I had one hand on a sleeping Jerrod, one on Fitz. Jim was in the guest room down the hall. All was right with the world.

THE END