I'll never
forget that weird Thursday morning last May, up at the Ahmandsen
orchards. I was still sixteen. I knew I was gay, even
though I never did anything with another guy until a long time after
that, in September. Christ, what a disaster he was! I thought he
felt special for me, but he just wanted into my pants. He got me
and then just ignored me from then on. Oh, well, I was young and
foolish then. I wish I paid more attention to what Graham
and B.B. said and did. At least I didn't let him fuck me. I
wish I hadn't fallen for his line, but I’m glad I used a condom.
Anyway,— I'd got
all my chores done early, and didn't have to be anywhere that morning,
so I rode my bike. This past Spring, I bought a cool Suzuki with
last summer's earnings. I rode it up to the little ridge
overlooking the long, gone orchards, right next to the bowl,— the
‘sinkhole’ that appeared in the ground a week or two before that.
I was sitting in the early morning sun in a little niche in the rocks,
just reading a story I printed out with my brother, Terry's, P.C.,
stroking myself as I read this really hot passage about a guy getting
his dick sucked by a Marine, just before he was gonna’ get eight hot
inches of Marine meat plugged up his butt. I took off my shorts
and boxers, t-shirt and sandals, and just let the warm Sun kiss me all
over, before I started to read and stroke.
I heard them
first, two trucks coming up the rise from Post Road, and stopped my
stroking. Old man Baker's Jeep came up over the crest, him and
B.B. Taggert in it. There was an old red Dodge Ram right behind
him, with two guys in it I never saw before. Real handsome, they
were. Looked to be about twenty or maybe a little more, same as
B.B.
I saw B.B.
cornhole my brother Terry once, last summer, back in our barn, when I
was fifteen. I was up in the loft beating my meat, and they were
right underneath me, in the crib. They must have been doing it a
lot before that, because they just marched right in, Terry dropped his
jeans and stripped off his T-shirt, B.B. did the same. Terry bent
down with his hands on his knees, his butt jutting out. B.B. took out
this enormous pole of a dick and just plugged it into him, worming his
way in while Terry moaned and pulled on his butt to open it for him,
telling B.B. to ‘take it slow,— a little harder,— a little bit out, a
little deeper,’ until B.B. was all the way in, right up against Terry's
cheeks.
They stood there
for a minute, not moving much, then B.B. cornholed the shit out of him,
slow and steady, moaning and rubbing Terry's back, telling him how good
it felt, all hot and wet and tight like a glove.
I couldn't help
getting my meat back out and pulling on it, watching over the top of
the hay bale I was on. Terry beat himself off at the same time,
but I could see B.B.'s dick going in and out of Terry's butt.
Then B.B. spewed right into him, and it looked like Terry came at the
same time. Sure sounded like it, anyhow. They didn't use a
condom. Then I exploded, stars in my head and lightning in my
dick, my stuff spewing out, the first shot actually going over the
bale, through the load hole, right down to the ground, only a couple of
feet from them, but they was too busy to notice.
I used that
image a million times to beat off to. It was really hot. I
never figured why Terry gave that up for a girl, but he did. So
anyway, old man Baker and B.B. gets out of the Jeep, parked right in
the middle of the big sinkhole, and the Ram right next to
it. Except old man Baker wasn't old no more. They was
naked as a jay. All them men was naked. I couldn’t get over
the fact old man Baker weren’t old,— he was young. Just like
that. I was only maybe twenty-five, thirty yards away, so it
wasn't no heat or mirage or nothing.
Nobody carried
no bags or nothing, except Graham and one of the two strangers were
carrying something what looked like a black book with shiny gold page
edges. I realized they were Bibles, the kind that mom inherited
from my Gram and Gramps. B.B. had an envelope of some sort;
nothing else. Then something shimmered, like when you look on the top
of an asphalt highway, at the air right above it. Only for a
minute or so, and then this voice happens in my head.
"Are you
ready?" It said.
Ready for
what? My dick went soft. I definitely wasn't thinking on
the Marine sucking on the surfer's dick no more. Scared the piss
out of me.
"Yes,"
said the new, younger, handsome Graham.
All of a sudden,
there was this man standing in front of the four of them. Naked,
beautiful like I can't tell you, like everything I ever fantasized
about a man I would want to love. My height, handsome, but not
pretty, masculine, twenty-five or so. I knew somehow he was
called Groth.
Graham and B.B.
moved right in front of Groth, holding hands. They looked at each
other, and you could tell they were more than just friends; a lot
more. The other two guys were along side of them, holding hands.
And this guy
Groth, launched right in.
"Dearly beloved,
we are gathered together . . ."
He married them
to each other; just like in a church, except it was two guys, not
a guy and a girl. I watched, and got chills when they got to the
part about "I do," and I started to get a little sniffly when they put
a ring on each others’ finger. When Groth started saying, " by
the power invested in me by the Creator, I now pronounce you Life
Mates, blessed in His eyes," I couldn't hold back the
tears. I saw them through the waterfall as they turned to each
other and kissed, the first time I ever actually saw a man kiss another
man on the lips, and it was just plain beautiful. My eyes were
starting to clear a little when Groth turned towards me, the four guys
turned towards me as well, and Groth said something that made me
tremble. They knew I was there. They knew I was watching.
"I present to
you Messrs Baker-Taggert and Messrs Fox-Greene. Please give them
your blessing. I ask that Darren Adams approach, and sign as
witness of their union."
They were all
looking at me, and I stood up, my shorts and sandals and T-shirt and
the pages still on the ground next to my bike. I didn't feel
naked. I wasn't scared, for some reason. I walked down the
slope of the sinkhole to where they were, and stopped in front of them,
maybe five feet. They were all beaming and misty-eyed. I
shook their hands, like I thought was what I was supposed to do.
"Please sign as
a witness in our Bibles," said one of the guys I didn't know. He
had a beautiful body. I couldn't help looking at his dick.
There was a pen from somewhere, and I signed on the pages that said
‘Family Bible of Rob and Cory Fox-Greene’ and ‘Family Bible of Bill and
Graham Baker-Taggert,’ under the caption ‘Marrriage
Witnesses,’ and dated it. Then they each signed each
other's Bible, too.
"Now we must say
goodbye," the new and improved Graham said. He said it
pretty loud, then turned to face Groth.
"You may bring
the Bibles, but leave all else behind."
"This disk
contains our record of all that has happened in the past two weeks or
so," B.B. said, "I want it to be preserved for the future."
"It is already
in my databanks," said the Voice. "Remember, your computers
are completely transparent to me. There is another purpose for
the disk."
"What?"
asked Graham.
"Give it to
Darren. He will be the keeper of the troth," said Groth.
I had no idea
what he was talking about.
"You will
remember our discussion on the odds against what has happened,— "
said the voice.
"Yes?"
Graham said.
"The
improbability has become infinite," said Groth, "The
alternate probability is thus finite and definite. It has become
definable.”
"What does that
mean?" asked B.B.
"There is no
longer any possibility whatsoever all that has happened has been the
conflux of natural events."
"You mean,
something has,— ? "
"It means all
that has happened has been the result of a design. I have done
the calculations. The certainty is one hundred percent
accurate. Nothing else can explain the rupture of
probability. All calculations have led up to and conjoined in
this confluence,— this time frame,— this 'event.'"
"You mean . . .?"
"There is no
doubt my calculation are correct. There is no margin for
error. The facts are simply irrefutable! There is a
Creator,— a guiding force in the universe; a Devine, benevolent, caring
influence in all things. He brought you together for your
purpose."
Graham turned
back to me and leaned down only a little and kissed my cheek, and the
others each kissed me in turn. I almost got hard.
B.B. was last, and as I let go of his hand, he handed me the envelope.
"Read the files
on this disk and you will understand." he said softly.
"Please return
to where you left your bike." said Groth.
I didn't even
hesitate to ask why. I just did.
When I turned
around, Groth was gone. The Jeep and the Ram were gone,
too. The four guys were in a cluster, facing each other.
I caught the
glint of the sun off metal, and looked to my left. There was a
whole crowd of people, most of them looking after where the ship had
gone. Mrs. Taggert was there with a big guy I later found out was Andy
Trothwell. She was sobbing in his arms. Next to them stood Jerry
and Elva Wheeler, and a bunch of other people from town. I didn't
know some of the others. Must have been thirty, forty people
there, all dressed up. Nobody paid any attention to me as I
dressed and got on my Suzuki, ready to ride away as fast as I could
from the embarrassment of being seen by all of them, naked as a jay
bird.
"They did not
see you unclothed," were the last words I heard from Groth. "You
were dressed in a tuxedo, as were my friends, and there was no one who
knew your face."
Then the four
men just lifted up into,— a shimmer, and disappeared. All of a
sudden, I saw,— what could only have been the ship,— but huge,— much
bigger than even the hangar could hold. It must have been a good
three hundred yards long, silvery and solid, but almost transparent,
which I know makes no sense at all, but I could see the clouds right
through it. Slowly, the ship rose, then tilted up at like a
forty-five degree angle; there was another shimmering motion somehow,
the earth seemed to tremble a little under my feet, and then
nothing. Complete stillness. No ship. It was
gone. I could hear somebody's tractor over to Katy, the low whine
of a truck way up on the interstate, birds, a jet plane somewhere way
overhead. They were gone.
I've read their
story more times than I can count. I jerked off over a couple of
passages, at least at first. I wasn't going to give it to no one
after I done read it all. It makes a nice story, sort of, but I
can't keep it to myself. It seems,— I feel sometimes I have to
show it to people,— have to let them know what's coming. Nobody's
going to pay any attention to a sixteen year old with pimples and
overactive gonads, so I'm sending this copy to you; so you'll know; so
you can tell somebody who can maybe do something. We have so much
to learn and so much to do.
Groth said it,—
the most powerful computer ever created,— with the image of a man I
will fantasize about all my days, and pray someday to find; he said it
so strongly, so surely, I have no choice but to believe.