Disclaimer: The following may contain scenes of sexual activity between males. If you find this offensive or if it is illegal for you to read this in your community, please do not do so. The author does not condone the violation of any laws.
I am grateful for the feedback I have received for this story and I appreciate this encouragement. As I have written before, this is an idea I have contemplated for many years and only now have found the courage to write. For those who may think I have been unfair in bashing only the Democrats, this chapter's for you! Also, for those who would like to find even a little bit of nooky in my story, this chapter may please you, as well! Thank you for your support. You may comment on the story at free7thinker (at) operamail (dot) com .
"I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan:
very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love
to me was wonderful, passing the love of women."
II Samuel 1:26 KJV
The afternoon and evening
of March 16, 1982
"Bransted did not kill himself."
The police detective sitting across the desk from Jonathan gave him a skeptical look.
"Look, Mr. Holbrook, we appreciate your coming forward with this information. But, unless we know specifically what the deceased was going to testify to in the committee this morning, I can't just declare on the unsubstantiated gossip of a political opponent that he was murdered. Are you trying to suggest that the Democratic leadership of the Legislature had Representative Bransted knocked off to keep you from getting your resolution passed?"
Kevin was standing beside the detective. He looked down at Jonathan as he leaned dejectedly backward in his chair. He raised an eyebrow at his friend. Jonathan simply shook his head.
"I'm suggesting no such thing. All I am saying is that he came into my office last night in a very agitated state and asked to be called as a witness in favor of 1218; and, he was very specific about no one knowing until he testified that he was going to do so."
The detective sighed and flipped his notebook shut. He stood and removed a business card from his pocket and handed it to Jonathan. After he was gone, Kevin looked at Jonathan and said, "Well, that could have gone better."
Jonathan turned and looked out the window of his office at the afternoon rush hour traffic.
"They're not even going to check it out."
Kevin flopped down in an arm chair.
"You know, Jon. Maybe you should just let it go, you know? Stop pushing it. Let Cavanaugh use it this fall as a campaign issue, but let's not push any real effort now. It could be... difficult."
Jon spun around and the anger on his face shocked Kevin.
"Kids are dying, God Damnit! Don't sit there and spout off this shit about it just politics! These are life and death issues! Children are being abused! Children are being killed. People who try to stop it are being intimidated and even murdered! And, its been going on for at least twenty-five years!"
"Jon, calm down."
Jonathan stood up, fury boiling from his face.
"Don't tell me to calm down! I didn't get into politics to compromise away all my principles! You told me I was going to be able to make a difference! You told me if I ran, I could lead the fight against the Good-ol'-boys! You said I could lead the reform fight! My God, man! We're the Republicans! We're supposed to be the good guys. My whole life I've been told the Democrats were corrupt liars. But, to be honest, since I've been here, I don't really see much difference between the two parties. Between you and Cavanaugh telling me to use this as campaign issue and Cardington whining because I took him away from a suckfest with the banking lobbyists, I am so disgusted with this whole scene I could scream!"
Kevin looked down at the floor. He smiled sadly and knowingly.
"Jon, you are not wasting your time here. You are not spinning your wheels. This is politics. You just need to know when to cut your losses and move on to the next battle and hope that some good comes out of what you do here. This isn't the first time I've heard a freshman in the House express this kind of frustration. You just have to accept your limitations here."
Jonathan leaned against the window sill.
Softly, he said, "Kids are being hurt, Kevin. And, I know its been going on since at least 1969. And, it has to stop. And, I will do what I have to do to stop it."
After a moment, Kevin looked up at Jonathan and said, "This isn't about the kids. This is about your Dad."
Suddenly, the emotion drained from Jonathan's face. All the fury, the anger, the indignation, the frustration were gone. He turned to the window.
Both men turned to the door and found the source of the oily, unctuous voice to be Eddie Stillman, their colleague from Clear Creek.
"I hope I'm not interrupting."
"You are," both Jonathan and Kevin replied together.
Apparently accustomed to such responses, Eddie smiled apologetically, but continued anyway.
"Well, perhaps this conversation could use a good interruption. You know sometimes emotions need some time to cool down."
Jonathan took a deep breath.
"What can I do for you, Eddie?"
"Well, Brother Jonathan, Brother Kevin. You both know that when I'm not here at the Capitol doing the Lord's work, I'm doing the Lord's work at my church in Clear Creek as the Pastor of the Rapture Tabernacle."
"Yes," Jonathan replied patiently. "I am aware of that."
"Well, Brother Jonathan, I would like to invite you to a little get together we're having this weekend called the Rally for the Family. We hope to educate our flock about the growing menace of secular humanism and let them meet some of our friends in politics who will be so influential in fighting the menace of humanism and communism and atheism and homosexuality. Can I tell my secretary that you will be joining us?"
"I'm afraid I have plans for this weekend, Brother Eddie."
Stillman smiled patiently.
"I expected that, which is why I didn't invite you. We know that the future of the Republican Party doesn't lie with the country-club Republicans like you. It with good honest idealistic Republicans like Brother Jonathan, here."
"Well, excuse me..."
Jonathan couldn't help but smile.
"Well, Eddie, I appreciate the invitation. Let me check some things out and I'll let you know."
Stillman smiled indulgently, before adding, "Just remember, Brother Jonathan, where the future of the Republican Party lies. Its Christians who are going to save this party, good men and women of faith who are determined to fight the creeping liberalism we're finding here. You'd be well advised to avoid these fruitless battles like reforming the DHS and concentrate on our crusade to bring God back into the schools. If we do that, everything else will just fall into place."
Jonathan's eyes glanced quickly at Kevin and saw his friend's eyes rolling. Nonetheless, Jonathan maintained his politician's smile.
"I certainly appreciate the invitation Eddie and I will let you know."
The two shook hands and as Stillman turned and left, Kevin saw Jonathan unconsciously shudder and wipe his hand against his slacks.
When Stillman had gone, Kevin looked at his friend incredulously.
"You seriously aren't considering going, are you?"
"Well," Jonathan replied. "You did tell me that I have to compromise and, to be honest, I really would like to be Governor, someday."
The look of utter consternation on Kevin's face caused Jonathan to burst out laughing.
"Good grief," he said. "I have no intention of going to Eddie's Rally for the Family. I know what they're up to. For Pete's sake, they want to outlaw the teaching of evolution!"
The two both smiled at each other, grateful for the break in tension.
"I am a little curious about something, though," Jonathan mused as he returned to his chair. "Why would Brother Eddie be so opposed to an investigation of child abuse in the DHS? It seems to me that if he's opposed to homosexuals taking over America, he'd be foaming at the mouth to stop child molesters in state institutions."
"I wondered about that yesterday in the caucus. You're right. It doesn't make sense."
"You don't think he's in bed with the `Good-ol'-boys,' do you?"
Kevin shook his head.
"How? They hate him more than we do."
Jonathan shook his head and frowned.
"Listen," said Kevin. "Let's go to the Bohemian Scandal and get a beer. I'll buy."
Jonathan looked down at his desk. Kevin did not fail to notice the cloud across his colleague's face.
"I think I will take a rain check, if you don't mind. I really have a lot of things I need to catch up on. Perhaps, tomorrow or some other time."
Kevin nodded and as he walked out the door, he paused.
"Whatever help you need, Jon, I'll be there. This may be one of those battles that should continue."
"Thank you, Kevin."
As Matt watched the end of rush hour traffic on Indian Creek Parkway, he finished his Big Mac and drank the last of his Dr. Pepper. An incredible emptiness overwhelmed him as he sat back in the plastic seat of the McDonalds. He pulled out his wallet and counted his money, the tips he had earned bussing tables at the Scandal during the previous week. He had twenty-one dollars left.
The escape had been rash. He knew it when he did it. There was no planning ahead. All he knew at the moment was that he couldn't do what Murdock was demanding of him. Now what?
And, what about Kyle? He had promised his "Little Buddy" that he would be back. He had told him not to worry. Now, after Luke's death and that of that politician on TV, what would the kid think when he disappeared. Poor Kyle would be scared to death.
He had to get Kyle out of there. Somehow. But, when he did, what then? Maybe they could run away to California. They could live on the beach and he could get a job in a restaurant bussing tables and then, even waiting tables. But, Kyle would have to go to school.
Matt wiped his eyes. It was all to much to worry about. First, he needed money. He could go back to the Bohemian Scandal. He could bus tables again, and maybe stay with David, that cool waiter, the only person there who wasn't a snob and didn't treat him like... well, like white trash. But, he knew that wouldn't work. That bitch wouldn't hire him back and, besides, that would be one of the first places they'd look for him.
He left the McDonalds and stood at the door for a moment. Across the street was Indian Creek Park, the very same park where that politician had died. There was a gazebo not far away, surrounded by some bushes. The cool breeze reminded him the first day of spring was still a few days away and he had no place to sleep. With a sigh, he walked to the corner and waited for a break in the northbound traffic before darting across to the center island. A police car passed him in the southbound lane as he tried to act as cool and nonchalant as possible. When it had passed, he sprinted across to the park.
Slowly, he walked under the naked oaks and elms and past the occasional redbud and dogwood, until he came to a bench along the creek with a view to the west. The sun was just above the tops of the trees and buildings on the other side of the creek. Looking backward, he could see everything bathed in a soft golden glow. Several of the highrise towers of downtown Scottsburg reflected the reddish orange of the sun.
An older man in slacks and a suede jacket was passing buy. He stared at Matt quite obviously, but the boy turned his head and pulled his paperback out of the back pocket of his jeans. He opened it to the point where he had last stopped and began reading.
The sound of footsteps stopping behind caused him to put the book down and look backward. The man had turned around and come back, pausing behind him.
"Nice evening," he said with a smile.
Matt didn't reply. Instead, he buried his nose in the book and prayed that the man would move on. A sigh from behind and retreating footsteps told him the man had done just that. He looked out at the flowing water of Indian Creek, at the brush along the bank. The sun was moving below the western skyline now and the few clouds in the sky were just turning from salmon to purple.
Matt knew what he had to do. Slowly, he stood and slipped the book back into his pocket. Looking to the south, he could see the man approaching another guy who seemed a little older than Matt. They spoke for a moment and then the younger guy rubbed his crotch. There followed another moment of conversation and the two began to walk together toward a parking area further on.
The breeze picked up and, without the warming of the sun, sent a chill along Matt's bare arms. He walked on past the point where the man and the younger guy had met and stood along a brick wall overlooking the creek. A couple of joggers ran past as the sodium vapor lights along the pathway came on, bathing the area in a soft salmon-colored light.
Headlights pulling into the parking area caught his attention. It was a Chevy Citation. No money there. He turned back and watched the reflection of the lights on the other side of the creek reflected in the rippling water. Footsteps behind him stopped for a moment. Matt turned. There was a younger looking man in his twenties, conservative blond hair, nice suit, expensive looking tie loosened and hanging. He was looking out over the wall toward the creek. The guy could be a lawyer. Maybe his earlier estimation was wrong. Matt turned back to the wall, trying not to look too obvious. The guy was clearly nervous or upset or something. He didn't want to spook him. He was cute, really cute and if Matt had to do it, it would be a lot less painful with this guy than some of the others he saw hanging around the wall.
He felt an erection begin in his pants as excitement grew in his chest and loathing grew in his heart. He turned around again. The man quickly averted his gaze which, Matt realized with satisfaction, had been on his butt. The man walked on to the north, slowly, sadly.
Perhaps he wasn't out here for that after all, Matt thought. Maybe he was actually just looking at the book in his pocket. How many young guys go walking through the park with a book in their pocket? No. Anyone who comes out here at night is looking for it.
The man continued onward, slowly looking up and around, his hands jammed in his pockets. After awhile, he approached the bench on which Matt had been sitting earlier. He looked across the creek and then dropped down onto the bench.
Matt wasn't certain if he should approach or not and the closer he came to the bench, the more certain he became that the man was not cruising. He seemed as dejected as anyone he had ever seen. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming sympathy.
As the man's head fell forward and his eyes closed in pain, Matt instinctively stepped forward.
"Um, are you OK?"
The man looked up, his face a mask of pain and embarrassment. Matt stopped breathing. The blue eyes, the blond hair falling across the forehead, the trembling lips, all made Matt stop and stare.
"I said, um, are you OK?"
The man looked at Matt, glanced nervously around and cleared his throat. Suddenly, his face transformed and the pain and sadness completely disappeared. He smiled warmly, though his eyes remained red.
"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. Its... just a problem I'm facing."
Matt felt encouraged and approached closer. A momentary hint of concern flashed across the man's face but, like the earlier pain, it vanished in a flash.
"You wanna talk about it?"
The man smiled, almost chuckled, and his face almost took on a condescending look, but stopped just before doing so. Matt saw the humanity return.
"Not really, but thanks."
"Sometimes it helps to talk about stuff."
But, Matt realized he had pushed too hard when the man replied firmly, "That's OK. Thanks."
Matt nodded as the man's head turned back to the river. Admitting defeat, he exhaled and turned around.
"So, you read Ayn Rand?"
Matt stopped and looked back.
The man pointed toward his hip.
"Anthem. You read Ayn Rand."
Surprised, Matt smiled and pulled the book out of his back pocket.
"Um, yeah. She's cool."
The man nodded.
"Have you ever read anything else she's written, like The Fountainhead or Atlas Shrugged?"
Matt shrugged and shook his head as he came back over to the bench.
"Naw. I found this at some used book store last fall over by campus."
The man seemed to be thinking about something as he looked at Matt before replying, "You, um, you go to SU?"
Matt's mind began to consider all the possibilities. The man seemed nervous and unsure. Perhaps, he was afraid of a boy too young. He seemed almost hopeful in his inflection.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm a freshman at SU."
After another pause, he extended his hand and added, "My name's Matt."
The man seemed hesitant and then extended his own, smiled, and replied, "Jon."
Jon tried to loose himself in work after Kevin's departure from the office. He tried to concentrate on a report from the Tax Commission regarding declining revenues, but his mind kept wandering, to the death of Bill Bransted, the disappearance of his witnesses, the death of the boy at Pushitaw, the redhead at the bar the previous night, memories of David. Finally, in frustration, he threw down his pen, stood up, gathered some papers into his briefcase, donned his jacket and left.
His footsteps echoed along the deserted marble hallway and up and down the stairwell. He passed statues and busts of politicians and famous figures. What intrigue, what deals, what crimes had these men, (but only a few women), been associated with in these very halls and chambers? The thought served only to depress him further.
Rush hour was over and there was little traffic on Capitol Boulevard as he drove south. When he came to the light at Twelfth, however, instead of turning east as he would to return to his townhouse, he turned west, instead. Skirting the edge of the city's main business district, with its towers and parking lots, he came to Indian Creek Parkway. Memories flooded his mind as he sat at the light, watching the joggers, gazing at the budding trees. A honk from behind alerted him to the green light and he pulled out onto the Parkway and then into a parking area.
The evening was turning cool as he climbed from his Citation. He stood for a moment in the parking lot, loosened his tie, and looked around. There were the usual joggers and cyclists on the path, the usual homosexuals near the restrooms obviously trying not to be obvious, a boy and girl cuddling on a bench to the right, and some rough-looking kid with a book of some kind in his back pocket, standing along the overlook. There was something familiar about that kid and, suddenly, another ghost from the past appeared before him.
He realized he was staring at the book when the kid turned around. Quickly, he turned to the right and strolled onward up the path.
The salmon colored lights along the pathway gave a warm and comforting glow to the park as he looked wistfully around at the trees and the creek. Traffic flowed along the Parkway and, beyond, the lights of downtown Scottsburg were highlighting the outlines of the city's high rises. He came to the bench and as he sat down, gazing out at the lights reflected in the creek, he felt overwhelmed with despair.
And, then, the boy with the book was asking him if he were OK. The boy, the ghost, the boy. He may have been a bit harsh and suddenly, the loneliness hit him. The boy was walking away and Jonathan realized he did not want to be alone!
"So, have a seat and tell me why you're reading Anthem."
Matt sat down beside him. Jonathan found the boys disheveled brown hair rather attractive, reminiscent yet again of ghostly memories. His tight faded jeans were hot. The tight "Journey" concert shirt showed off his chest and arms quite nicely.
He couldn't do this. He had vowed after Jason that this would never happen again. Dear God, he was a member of the State Legislature! People knew him! He was going to be Governor in another eight years!
"The main character lives in a world where you devote your life to serving others. You can't have any thoughts about yourself. You can't think for yourself. You can't have opinions of your own. You can't show any initiative. And, he hates that. He knows he different. He's not like everyone else. He thinks for himself. And he knows he wrong, but he can't help it. And, then, he finds someone who thinks like he does and they fall in love and they run away."
As Matt synopsized the story, Jon heard the wistfulness in his voice as he came to the end and another button was pushed.
"So," he said, "you're an individualist?"
"I guess so. I don't like others to tell me what to do or what to think or anything."
There was something about this rough-looking college kid, with his wisdom and decency forcing their way up through the veneer of the "hard-ass," that he found overwhelmingly attractive.
"You're a philosophy major?"
"Philosophy. Is that what you're getting your degree in?"
"Oh, uh, no. Um, I don't know yet."
The man nodded ruefully and looked out over the creek.
"Sometimes, if you don't have someone to tell you what you have to do, its hard to find direction. But, sometimes, its nice. Freedom's a nice thing."
Matt looked at Jon's face and saw a dreamy expression as he gazed at the opposite bank. Softly, he asked, "You feel trapped?"
"You might say that."
For several minutes, the two were silent as they gazed out at the rippling reflections in the rushing water of the flowing creek. The number of joggers and cyclists passing had declined with the advent of darkness and only lonely homosexuals looking for love or sex passed them as they sat on the bench.
Matt took a breath and placed his hand on Jon's thigh. Slowly, Jon turned and looked into the younger guy's eyes.
Matt's hand squeezed Jon's thigh and whispered, "Can I go home with you, tonight?"
Jon closed his eyes. It was too much. Too much was happening. He was trying to work through a scandal, the death of a member of the legislature, the feelings and memories of the past, the anger of failure, the disillusionment of discovering the dreams of his adolescence were simply illusions.
He turned and looked into Matt's eyes and the decision was made.
The drive to Jon's townhouse seemed to take forever for both of them. The walk up the steps to his door seemed endless. And, as the front door closed, Matt leaned against Jon, whose arms wrapped around the boy. They simply held each other.
For Matt, the arms around him were a salvation. The man held him and he felt safe, protected. For Jon, the need to love, to hold, to be with someone had been so intense that he felt he could never survive; yet, now, his survival was in his arms.
He broke the embrace and led the boy to the bedroom.
Matt had known only domination, abuse, and loathing and as Jon gazed into his eyes, he saw kindness and a shared pain. He knew the man who held him understood his loneliness, his longing for someone who understood.
Jon brushed the hair from Matt's eyes and gazed into them. Slowly, his lips approached Matt's and when they touched, both felt a surge of excitement, of understanding, of love.
Jon, pulled the covers back. He slipped his jacket off, removed his tie, and slipped off his shoes as Matt watched, his erection straining and his heart bursting. When Jon removed first his shirt and then his pants, Matt nearly became dizzy. He could see the erection in Jon's briefs, he saw the slender body of the man, the look of hope and longing in Jon's face. He smiled and Jon slipped the briefs down, standing naked and erect before him.
It had been years since Jon had been with anyone. He had denied himself, denied his feelings, denied his reality. He was to be Governor. He was to be respected. He was to be The Good Boy. A future Governor could not blaspheme, could not be an abomination, could not submit to the truth of his soul. But, Jon could no longer deny the reality in his heart. As his erection rigidly extended toward Matt, Jon reached forward and removed the tee-shirt from the college-boy's torso. The look of trust and need in the boy's eyes almost broke his heart. He knew the loneliness of solitude of rejection, of fear. He saw it in Matt's eyes and he wanted, needed to fulfill the need and give him the love he craved.
They lay in the bed, Jon wrapping his arms tenderly around the boy. Matt had never felt so intense an emotion. Jon caressed his face, kissed his forehead, his cheek, his mouth. He ran his tongue along the boy's throat, savoring the salty taste. He lifted his arm and licked until he came to Matt's nipple. The boy cried out as Jon sucked and licked and loved it. As he moved down Matt's torso, Jon felt alive, felt he had found what he had been craving for so long.
Matt's erection stood rigidly above his abdomen. Jon leaned down and kissed the sensitive area. Matt exhaled, clutching the sheet beneath him and throwing back his head. Jon licked his balls, sucking them into his mouth and caressing Matt's thighs. Matt's cries became almost continuous as he reached down and held Jon's head. He caressed the man's face, running his fingers through the soft blond hair, writhing as Jon's tongue loved him.
Jon knew the boy craved love and affection and wanted to make him feel as wonderful as possible. He ran his tongue up the throbbing shaft of Matt's penis, feeling it flexing desperately as he came to the rigid head. In one feel swoop, he engulfed the erection in his mouth. Matt screamed.
Jon held it in the heat of his mouth and slowly moved. Matt grabbed his head and thrust his hips upward. His penis erupted and for the first time in years, Jon tasted the glorious bittersweet nectar of manhood. Losing control, he grabbed his own erection and furiously stroked himself as Matt deliriously writhed and thrust beneath him, and when he, too, fell over the precipice, he knew he could not return to his old life.
Thus ends Chapter Five. Jon and Matt have met, but what of David? And, what event or events in Jon's childhood are motivating him in his crusade and leading to his current disillusionment? Answers will be forthcoming. In the meantime, please write to me at free7thinker (at) operamail (dot) com! Thank you so much.