The Boys and the Traveler

The Boys and the Traveler Part 14

One day threaded into another and work on Father Lighthouse’s pulpit progressed steadily. Jamie had immersed himself completely in the job. He did everything he could to make sure that his first masterpiece would become exactly that: a masterpiece. Collin only kept an eye on things, encouraged him and gave him some small hints and for the rest he occupied himself with lending a hand where necessary. The apprentice had become a master and his teacher was content with providing general assistance.

It was like that on this day, a couple of days short of Easter. Jamie was totally concentrated on a difficult decoration figure. Collin just looked on with a satisfied smile. The way it looked the boy was doing very well and it would turn out just fine. As far as he was concerned, he was just wasting time.

While being occupied in this useless activity he saw Mr. Fraser, the old verger, entering the church, carrying a ladder. The man had already reached a respectable age and it took him enough effort to walk, let alone of climbing a ladder. He put it up against a pillar and disappeared again, only to come back a little later with some kind of decoration. With great difficulty he started to climb the first rung of the ladder.

“Not exactly a good idea, if you ask me, Mr. Fraser”, Collin said with a smile.

“Oh well,” the man replied, smiling tiredly, “I know, but it has to be done anyway. This Easter decoration has to be in place by Sunday.”

“But you could break something if you fall off the ladder” Collin said concerned.

“I assume that the Lord will protect me” the man muttered.

Collin had his doubts about that kind of precautions, laughed and decided to give the man a hand:

“Then I suggest I will take some work out of the Lord’s hands. Let me handle it!”

The verger looked at him gratefully and descended the first rung again. He hadn’t proceeded any higher than that. He explained where the decoration had to be hung exactly. Collin nodded in understanding and scaled the ladder until his head was up against the stone of the arch, the decoration in one hand. He started to hang the thing on a nail.

Nobody will ever know what actually happened. Was it because Collin used both hands to hang up the decoration, not holding one on the ladder when he lost balance? Or was it because the rungs were wet and slippery? It didn’t matter why: with a cry of terror he fell down. It was a distance of about six or seven yards. If he had hit the floor in any other position he might have broken some ribs or a leg. But when disaster strikes, it strikes hard. The first thing that hit the stone church floor was Collin’s head. Even a cry of pain failed to come. The only thing forthcoming were some spastic shocks in the whole body. Then he remained limp on the floor.

Jamie hadn’t even noticed that the verger had come in with a ladder, neither did he see or hear anything of what happened afterwards. He was fully concentrated and absorbed by his work on this difficult decoration. The tip of his tongue stuck out of his mouth from pure effort. Only when he heard a cry he looked up. Automatically his eyes went in the direction from where the sound had come from. Not a second later he saw Collin lying on the floor. He felt how the blood drained from his head. He wanted to run to the spot, he wanted to cry out. But he wasn’t able to make a single move or to utter whatever sound. He stood paralyzed besides his piece of work, not able to do anything at all.

Old Mr. Fraser reacted. As fast as his old legs could carry him he ran to the rectory, constantly crying out:

“Father, Father, come quick, hurry…., something terrible happened..oh Father, please hurry!”

As a result it didn’t take long before Father Lighthouse ran into the church. When he saw what had happened he stood in pure shock initially, but he regained his wits soon enough to realize it was important to do something really fast. He sent back the old verger to the rectory and sent for the doctor. Then he knelt besides Collin’s motionless body.

No, he was no doctor, but even to his lay eyes it was perfectly clear that this didn’t look good, it didn’t look good at all. He had no idea to which religion the man belonged, who lay before him on the floor. So he did what he could do: he administered the Last Rites of the Catholic Church. Maybe it was the wrong ritual, but the father was convinced that under the circumstances God would understand and approve.

He had just finished the ritual when the doctor came running in. He knelt also besides Collin and examined him. It didn’t take him long. He rose with a serious face. With solemn eyes he looked at the priest and shook his head. Brian couldn’t help it: the memory of the aid post behind the first trenches came up involuntarily: the doctor shaking his head, which meant that the man was for the padre as the only one who could help him.

“I deeply regret, Father”, the doctor spoke, “but there is nothing I can do for him anymore”.

Brian became aware of the fact that a difficult task laid ahead of him. He walked towards Jamie, who still stood rigid besides the pulpit under construction with wide open eyes of fright and fear. Without saying anything the priest stood before the boy. Then the inevitable question came:

“Is he….?” the boy whispered.

Brian just nodded. In a matter of seconds he saw all the emotions flashing through the boy’s eyes: terror, disbelief, bewilderment, anger, denial and finally ending with resignation in the inevitable and grieve. Tears filled his eyes and it looked as if he broke apart. Brian pulled him against his breast and laid his arms around him. He didn’t have the faintest idea what he should say. There was nothing to say. It gave him a hopeless feeling.

It took a long time before Jamie calmed down a little. Only then the priest thought about the second task waiting for him.

“Come on, lad, we have to tell Kyle what has happened” he spoke softly.

Jamie nodded, but it seemed an automatic and totally unconscious reaction. Bran took the boy by the hand and led him with soft and tender compulsion to the rectory garden and the wagon.

After a first reaction of total bewilderment Kyle’s reaction was totally different from Jamie’s. He became aggressive and it looked as if he was crying out his frustration and anger with God. The priest saw again, how the boy’s eyes closed halfway. His fists clenched with such intensity that they looked white and he held his arms besides his body. He looked to the sky and cried out in despair:

“Goddamned, what did I do wrong in your eyes, God? Why are you doing it again? First you take me dad away, the me mum and now you take away one of the most important persons in my life! Does it make you horny to do that? You are not a God of love and compassion, You are an ordinary impostor and a mentally sick sadist! Answer me, Goddamned! Or are you too great a coward to do that?”

Brian accepted the blasphemy he was hearing without comment. He didn’t know if God would understand it, but deep in his heart he had to admit that the boy was right! God had sent him into hell for the third time in his young life.

After this first eruption the boys fell into each other’s arms sobbing. Brian embraced the both of them and let them express their deep sorrow. Then he took them both by the hands and took them to the rectory to let them recover a bit.

The funeral was a sad occasion. Even the weather cooperated to increase this atmosphere: the air had the colour of lead and a drizzling rain fell over Kilmacolm.

In a corner of the small cemetery Collin’s coffin stood on two planks over the open grave, in front of it stood a small group of people. It was the corner in which all people were buried, which weren’t part of the parish: travelers, vagrants and all those others who transferred from their earthly to their eternal life while they happened to be in Kilmacolm for whatever reasons.

There were very few people present. Besides Father Lighthouse, dressed in the prescribed black chasuble for the occasion, and two acolytes, only Jamie and Kyle and the old verger were present. The boys had asked the father if he would be willing to do the honours at the funeral and he had wholeheartedly agreed. For him it was not just another funeral.

According to catholic customs he blessed the coffin with holy water and he said the accompanying prayers. There was no routine this time: he had the feeling he had lost a good and dear friend. He hadn’t know him for that long, therefore they had met too late in Collin’s life as it had turned out, but it had developed into a strong and intense friendship. So this service was more than reading the obligatory prayers. He felt the loss deep in his heart.

He nodded to the two grave-diggers, who removed the planks. They then lowered the coffin into the dark, cold grave with ropes.

Together Jamie and Kyle threw the first earth on the coffin. They stood at the grave for a while with dejected looks.

“I’m going to miss you so much”, Jamie sobbed softly. Then he casted a glance on Kyle beside him.

The boy looked back, bowed his head and whispered barely audible:

“Aye, Collin, I was a total failure as a wood carver. It wasn’t your fault. But you taught me a lot of other important lessons. I will miss you the rest of my life. May I ask you a last favour, Collin? If you arrive up there, will you tell me mum and dad that I will manage down here on earth?”

The small group left the cemetery in silence. Both boys looked to the grave for a last time, before father Lighthouse directed them back to the rectory with subtle pressure.

The priest must have planned it that way. After the funeral they were invited to a copious diner at the rectory, not in the kitchen but in the official dining room. His housekeeper must have spent hours in the kitchen to prepare all this. Very little was said during dinner, but despite their sorrow they enjoyed the delicious food, which was provided in abundance. It was the kind of food they had never seen nor tasted before in their lives. After dinner the father gave them some whisky to sooth their overtaxed souls.

But now, after dinner, they were thrown back onto themselves. They sat opposite one another at the table in their wagon. Not a word was said. Both were immersed in their own thoughts, their own grieve and their own memories.

Only after a very long time Jamie broke the silence and said:

“Kyle, I need your warmth and affection”

Kyle looked at him as if in shock and exclaimed in a harsh way:

“Now? Today? In case you forgot: we have just buried Collin!”

Jamie felt himself shrink under the forceful reproach by his friend. In shame he put down his eyes and stared at the wood of the table. But his needs were unleashed and fought their way through the shame. He couldn’t ignore it. Kyle must feel lonely and sad and he must harbor the same longings as well. He tried to suppress his feelings to avoid another sharp rebuke but after being halted by two conflicting emotions for a while he assembled enough courage to start a second timid attempt:

“Why not? As long as we have been together we have always celebrated special days with our tender playing the three of us. This is a special day. No, it is not a happy or joyful special day, but nevertheless it remains special. No matter how you look at it: it is a day that I will always remember.”

There was silence on the other side of the table. Slowly he gathered enough strength to look into Kyle’s eyes. There was no anger in them. The eyes clearly showed that his suspicion was right: Kyle also needed warmth and affection!

Jamie rose slowly. He took Kyle by his hand and softly said:

“Come, let’s go!”

Together they shuffled to the sleeping compartment.

While kissing they undressed each other. It was done with very mixed feelings. They both felt shame and guilt. Both felt pretty insensitive and cold-blooded, as if Collin’s death didn’t matter to them. But at the same time there was this desire for warmth and closeness: the feeling of the other’s skin and to succumb to the other’s touches as a means of comfort for the feeling of unbearable loss.

It didn’t take them long before they were able to lay down on the bed naked, where they surrendered to their deepest lusts. Fingertips stroke where they could reach, tips of tongues reached spots where they had never been before. Despite their youthful boisterousness they attempted to reach the level of tenderness, with which Collin always had been able to bring them into a state of ecstasy.

Kyle pushed his friend gently on his back. He pushed back the foreskin of the aroused claymore and started to stroke its tip gently with only his fingertips. It happened with a light playfulness and a tenderness that Jamie never had held for possible before and which made him almost delirious with joy. It felt as if hot air was streaming over his tip that pushed him to ever higher levels of desire with each sensual stroke.

“Oh yes, my sweet darling” he moaned softly, “Go on. Make me forget this terrible day for a short while!”

Kyle obliged gladly and his fingers skidded over the thin film of natural oil, made by the pre-cum that had released itself in the mean time. All this didn’t mean that Jamie endured it totally passive. While enjoying this sweet torture passionately his fingers sought and found Kyle’s tool and after some clumsy attempts they started to work on it as delightful and erotic as Kyle’s fingers did.

They worked each other up to a universe of lust not reached before and once they arrived there they just broke through that barrier, chasing for the next universe beyond in their quest for the unimaginable, perfect zenith. It was as if they started an experiment to storm the heaven in an effort to conquer two short time spots there to enable the third missing person from their triumvirate to participate in their love play for a final time.

Because Kyle had started earlier with his delicious fingertip playing Jamie was ahead of him. He made pent-up attempts to maintain the ability to participate in their voyage of exploration by postponing his release time and again. But the moment came when he had to capitulate to the almost unbearable pressure in his groin and roaring he squeezed the physical evidence of his love all around. Kyle smiled with close eyes and licked some of it from his skin. Then he bent over, put his lips against Jamie’s ear and whispered:

“Receive me, sweet angel!”

Kyle entered tantalizingly slowly. It reminded Jamie of the first time he experienced this feeling, back in Northumbria. Every little muscle in him searched for contact with Kyle’s lance and he could swear he felt every move the member made, no matter how small: the vibrating from lust, the attempts to go deeper in him, the swelling. Kyle was too aroused as well to delay the explosion for long. In an incredibly short period of time he injected his white fluid love into Jamie.

Exhausted he rolled back on his back. They looked into each other’s eyes: for a short moment happiness could be seen in them, but their expression changed to sadness at a rapid pace and tears came back. It appeared to them that their expedition towards heaven had failed. The place in bed between them, the place where the so important missing third had been, remained empty. It became painfully clear to them it would remain so into all times.

They embraced each other tightly and broke into tears again. Laying against one another and with almost intermingled bodies they cried themselves and each other into a deep sleep, which was fed by exhaustion.