The Road Home (26 page)
“That makes more sense than believing a virgin had a baby who died for our sins, and that if we don't believe that he did, we'll go to hell,” Burke said.
“There are pagan stories about dying gods as well,” said Sam. “But nothing about hell. You never know, though. Maybe the Christians are right.”
“I hope not.”
“There's no way to really know,” Sam said. “That's why they call it faith. Maybe we're all right. Maybe whatever you believe is right. This works for me.”
“I have to say, I haven't thought about it a whole lot,” Burke told him. “I mean, we went to church when I was a kid, at least at Christmas and Easter. But we never talked about it. I pretty much let go of it all when I went to college.”
“So, what's your life about?”
“I don't know,” Burke said. “Me, I guess. That sounds selfish, doesn't it?” He didn't wait for Sam's answer. “I guess it is. But it's true. My life is all about me. What I want. What makes
my
life better.”
my
life better.”
He waited for Sam to say that there was nothing wrong with that. After all, hadn't he said that paganism was about enjoying life now?
You know that's not what he meant,
he told himself.
You know that's not what he meant,
he told himself.
“I think most people embrace religion because it gives them a set of rules,” Sam said. “They tell themselves that as long as they follow those rules, they'll be happy. But how often do those same people hurt others, or themselves? How often are they still miserable? That's what I find so interesting. They follow the rules, and they still aren't happy.”
“Are you happy?”
“Mostly,” said Sam. “You?”
Burke thought about his life back in Boston, the one he'd thought he couldn't wait to get back to. He thought about his work, and how instead of doing his own projects, he'd accepted commercial work because of the good money. And he thought about the failed relationships.
“No,” he said, his voice catching in his throat. “I really don't think I am.”
CHAPTER 27
“S
am!”
am!”
Before Sam could reply, he was caught up in a hug by a large, burly man wearing only white boxer shorts and a leather harness to which was attached a pair of small, delicate wings made out of gauzy purple material and decorated with glitter and rhinestones. The man's substantial belly hung over the waistband of his shorts, and there was more glitter scattered throughout the reddish hair on his chest and in his bushy beard. He was accompanied by two other men of similar build and similarly attired.
“Hey, Ginger,” Sam said when he was put down and could breathe. He gave the other two men hugs as well. “Burke, this is Ginger, Thadeus, and Jonas.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Burke, eyeing the trio with some amusement.
“Let me guess,” Sam said. “You're supposed to beâ”
“Radical Bearies!” the three shouted.
“Naturally,” said Sam, grinning. “You're adorable.”
“You should see Thad's magic wand,” Jonas said. “He's made some alterations.”
“Not tattoos,” said Sam, grimacing.
“Just a Prince Albert,” said Jonas.
“I'm sure you'll see it soon enough,” said Ginger. “These two can't manage to keep their clothes on. Speaking of which, shouldn't you two get out of your civvies?”
“This is Burke's first gathering,” Sam told him. “I think we'll ease him into it.”
Ginger looked at Burke. “A virgin! Let us know if you need any help breaking him in. Where are you guys bunking?”
“Cabin,” Sam said. “I thought camping would be too much, what with Burke's leg.”
“We're tenting it,” Jonas told them. He pointed in the direction of a field where several dozen tents were set up. “The one with the bear flag. Stop by later.”
“We will,” Sam promised. “Once we get settled in.”
The men wandered off, and Sam and Burke continued down a path worn into the grass.
“That was . . . different,” said Burke.
“We call them the three bears,” Sam said. “They're a trio. Ginger and Thadeus have been together about fifteen years. Jonas joined the family four or five years ago.”
“They're lovers? All three of them?”
Sam nodded. “And three of the nicest guys you'll ever meet. Just watch out if they ask you to play Goldilocks.”
“How does that work?” Burke asked. “Being a trio, I mean.”
Sam shrugged. “Like any other relationship, I imagine. Probably just with a bigger bed.”
“I have enough trouble with
one
other person. I can't imagine two.”
one
other person. I can't imagine two.”
“It wouldn't be my thing, either,” Sam agreed. “But it works for them. And look at it this wayâif one of you doesn't want to do something, you always have another option.”
They arrived at a group of six small cabins that backed up against the woods on the far side of the field. Sam opened the door to one of them and looked inside. “It's free,” he said. “Let's claim it.”
Inside the cabin were four bunk beds and not much else. The bare floor was swept clean, and wire screens covered the two large windows. A battery-powered camp light sat on a small table, which was the cabin's only other furnishing.
Sam opened the rucksack he'd brought with him from the car and took out two air mattresses and two sleeping bags. Unrolling the first mattress, he blew it up and placed it on one of the bottom bunks. A sleeping bag went on top of it. He repeated the routine with the second mattress.
“I assume you want to be on the bottom,” he said to Burke as he placed the mattress on the bunk above.
“It will be just like summer camp,” Burke remarked. “Except I suspect we won't be making key chains in arts and crafts.”
“Don't laugh,” said Sam as he unrolled the second sleeping bag. “They do have an arts and crafts cabin. Actually, it's more of a dressup cabin. People bring all kinds of things you can use for costumes. We can get you kitted up as anything you want. Maybe a satyr?”
“I think I'll just be me. But thanks.” Burke hesitated before asking, “Are you going to do anything?”
“I don't know,” Sam said. “I kind of like the bears' outfits. How do you think I'd look in wings?”
Burke had a mental image of Sam in boxers. He'd never seen him shirtless, but he could tell from what he'd seen of his chest in the V of his shirts that he was hairy. It was actually an appealing visual.
“Go for it,” he said, feeling oddly embarrassed.
Sam laughed. “We'll see. For the moment I'm sticking with this.” He pulled a kilt out of the rucksack. It was a tartan in several shades of green with thin red stripes. “It's the Guthrie tartan,” Sam said. “We became Guffreys when Great-granddad passed through Ellis Island and they couldn't make out his accent.”
Sam sat on the lower bunk and removed his shoes and socks. Then he stood up and dropped his pants. Burke turned away when he saw that the boxers were going next. He pretended to look at something out the window, and when he turned around, Sam was wearing the kilt. He had taken off his shirt, however, and was barechested. As Burke had suspected, his torso was heavily furred. He was surprised, however, by the gold rings that pierced Sam's nipples.
Sam was lacing up a pair of black, thick-soled Doc Martens shoes. When he was done, he stood up. “Well?”
“Very not librarian,” Burke answered.
“I'm not a librarian this weekend,” Sam told him. “I'm just me. That's what Destiny is all about. You okay to walk around some?”
“Can I bring my camera?”
Sam nodded. “Just ask before you take anyone's picture. Most people won't care, but you get the one or two who don't want anyone knowing they do this kind of thing.”
They left the cabin and walked into the field, moving between the tents. Voicesâand lots of laughterâfilled the air, and the smells of incense and occasionally pot drifted over them. The people Burke saw were of all different types. Some were dressed casually in shorts, others were elaborately costumed, and some were just plain nude. Several people waved to Sam or called out greetings. Sam introduced Burke to a number of them, and Burke tried to remember the sometimes peculiar names: Bluebell, Orion, Pixie Moondrip, Endora.
Several times Burke asked permission to take someone's picture, and each time he was received enthusiastically. It wasn't difficult to get his subjects to pose for him, and he went through his first roll of film quickly. He was halfway through his second when they came to the tent of the three bears. Ginger was seated in a camp chair outside, and Jonas was painting his face with blue make-up. Concentric circles ringed Ginger's eyes, and spirals decorated each cheek.
“You look like a raccoon,” Sam teased.
Ginger reached out and tugged on one of Sam's nipple rings. “Behave yourself,” he said.
“There,” Jonas said, drawing the last line of a star on Ginger's forehead. “Who's next?” He looked at Burke. “How about you?”
“Oh, I don'tâ”
“Sit!” Ginger ordered, standing up and taking Burke by the shoulders.
Burke sat, still objecting. Before he knew what was happening, Ginger was pulling his T-shirt up and off.
Ginger looked down at him, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Not bad,” he said. “Not much fur, but nice, anyway.”
Burke wasn't sure how to respond. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Jonas was already painting him. He had swapped the blue color for a silvery gray and proceeded to mark Burke's chest with a series of what looked like comets racing every which way, some of them falling down toward his crotch.
“If you want, he can paint your cock silver, too,” said Ginger. “That would look good.”
“I think this will be enough,” Burke said. “But thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Ginger turned to Sam. “It would look great in the moonlight, though, don't you think?”
Sam nodded. “It would be very dramatic,” he agreed. He looked at Burke and winked. Burke frowned at him, but he knew Sam was just playing along.
“There you go,” Jonas said a minute later. “All done.”
“Here,” Ginger said, taking Burke's camera. “Let me get a picture.”
“Be careful!” Burke said. “That's aâ”
“Hasselblad,” said Ginger. “I know. Now, shut up and pose with Sam.”
Burke stood up with Jonas's help. Sam came over to him and put his arm around his waist.
“Say, âSodomy,'” Ginger ordered.
“Sodomy!” Sam shouted as Burke tried to manage a smile.
“Now you do us,” said Ginger, handing the camera back to Burke. “Thadeus! Get your hairy ass out here.”
Thadeus emerged from the tent. He was naked, and Burke couldn't help gasping when he saw the size of the dick that swung between his legs. A thick Prince Albert ring pierced the tip.
“I told you you'd see it soon enough,” said Ginger as he dropped his own boxers and stepped out of them. Jonas was following suit. “You remember the story of the three bears,” Ginger continued. “Well, Thad's too big, and I'm just right. That leaves the cub here as too small, but as you can see, it's all relative.”
He stood in the middle, and Thadeus and Jonas flanked him. Burke framed them in the camera's viewfinder. The three men looked totally at ease, both with one another and with the camera. Burke took several frames of them before putting the camera down.
After promising to meet up with the bears later, Sam continued with the tour. There wasn't a whole lot else to see: the outdoor showers, the garden, the big main house. “Three Faeries live here year-round,” Sam explained. “They take care of the place. I thought about doing it myself, but I think I'd get bored.”
“I can't imagine you ever being bored,” Burke said. “Your mind is always going in twelve directions at once.”
“I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”
“Sometimes I transcend my asshole-ishness,” said Burke. “Assholeity. Whatever.”
“You're too hard on yourself,” Sam told him. “You need to let go of that. Toss it in the fire tonight.”
“About that,” said Burke. “What exactly are we doing?”
“It's a full-moon circle,” Sam said. “Part of it is the whole wild-man thing. You know, like wolves howling and celebrating and whatnot. The other part is about manifesting change in your life. The full moon is a good time to start new things. Basically, you pledge to work on whatever it is you want to work on from one full moon to the next. During the first half of the cycle, while the moon is waning, you get rid of whatever is standing in your way. Then you spend the waxing half working to reach your goal.”
“The howling part sounds easier.”
“You'd be surprised at how well it works,” said Sam. “If you put energy into it, that is. It's not like you just decide you're going to get your novel written or stop smoking or whatever and it magically happens without you doing anything.”
“There's always a catch,” Burke joked.
For the rest of the afternoon they walked around and Burke took pictures. He went through five rolls of film before it was time for dinner, which was a kind of communal affair where people shared food they'd brought, as well as some delicious food prepared by volunteers in the camp kitchen. As he'd been throughout the day, Burke was struck by the spirit of cooperation that pervaded the meal. He was feeling less and less uncomfortable, and when several men complimented him on his body decoration, he actually started to enjoy it.
As twilight settled over the camp, people began to gather in the field. A large portion of it was empty of tents, and now Burke understood why. A bonfire was waiting to be lit in the center of a bare patch of earth from which all the grass had been cleared to prevent it from catching on fire. The campers arranged themselves in a loosely formed circle around it. Some talked, while others played drums and other instruments, improvising melodies.
Sam had brought a camp chair for Burke to sit on because of his leg. Burke felt a little conspicuous, but no one seemed to notice. Sam himself sat cross-legged on the ground.
“How do you know when it starts?” Burke asked.
“It already has,” said Sam. “It's an organic thing. Just watch.”
For a while nothing much happened beyond the drumming and music continuing. Darkness came, and the moon rose huge and silver above the field. But still the only light came from the fireflies that flickered in the grass and from the occasional flashlight carried by newcomers to the circle. Burke, seated in the darkness, had no idea how many people were there.
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