After eating in the hotel dining room they climbed into a cab out front to return to the airport for a ten o'clock flight that would make a stop in Dallas before ending up at the Miami airport. An hour later they lifted off the runway and into a clear blue sky heading east.

They were both relieved once the plane left the ground. They'd been gone for a long time. In a few hours they'd be home. Clay's mind stayed on the work he was doing with Bill for the duration of his time away. It didn't give him a lot of time to think about home but once they finally left Guam, his thoughts were on home and on Ivan.

Clay realized he'd done the impossible. He'd willingly spent six weeks away from the man he'd loved since he was fourteen. At one time he would have said, 'I can't do it.'

Clay had done it and he was going home.

Dylan learned more about living this summer more than any summer before. Logan Warren loved being a filmmaker. He passed that appreciation for story telling on to Dylan who saw photography as a way to tell his father's story. If he hadn't known before how he'd manage to tell his father's story, he knew how to do it now.

Dylan, unlike his father, had plenty of time to think each day. At first everything was too new and exciting to think about home but on days when he sat on the bow of the ship to see what was around him, his thoughts began to be of the people he missed. People he'd been with for his entire life. It felt good to be heading home, even when he felt sadness over the people left behind on the Horizon.

He was on the way home and that suited him just fine. It's where he belonged and where he wanted to be. He wouldn't trade this summer away for anything but being home would provide a place where he'd put together what he'd learned with what he was doing before he went on the research trip.

Dylan fell asleep and slept on and off for the hours it took to arrive in Dallas. Once they were back in the air after leaving Dallas, he slept again. There wasn't any sleep before they landed in Honolulu and then there wasn't enough sleep before they boarded the plane for Miami. Dylan was exhausted by his summer away. He was exhausted by the trip home. Sleep was the only remedy.

Clay had trouble sleeping. The excitement over seeing Ivan in a few hours filled his thoughts with excitement. He rested his eyes and smiled a lot as Dylan's breathing reassured him all was well.

The flight was relatively smooth and without incident. There was turbulence on the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains but that lasted about ten minutes. Dylan woke and fell right back asleep. Other than that it was smooth but it seemed endless to Clay.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching Miami. Please fasten your seat belts and put your tray in the up position. It's seventy-seven degrees on the ground and we are cleared to land. We'll be on the ground in about fifteen minutes. Thank you for flying United."

"Kiddo, we're home," Clay whispered, shaking him lightly. "Kiddo, time to rise and shine."

"In a few minutes, Dad. I'm tired," Dylan said, trying to turn n his seat and feeling restrained.

"We're home, Dylan," Clay said louder.

Dylan sat up straight.

"We're home?"

"Put your seat belt on. We're landing in Miami."

Dylan watched the water below the plane as they circled to come in for a landing. The city looked endless as the endless lights seemed to go on and on, until the plane tilted downward and made contact with the runway.

They taxied for what seemed like forever and then everyone stood up at the same time as the door opened and the plane emptied.

Dylan put on his backpack and walked behind Clay as they went into the passenger tunnel before coming up in the terminal.

As they came off the plane, Ivan was standing just across from the doorway where they emerged from. Clay almost ran into his arms. No one had ever felt better to him. They kissed and hugged and hugged some more. Clay cried and Ivan fought back tears.

"I missed you, babe," Ivan whispered into his ear. "I'll have more to say about that later."

Clay couldn't let go. He held on tight. He was overjoyed to be back in the arms of his man.

Dylan stood to one side and waited. He was sure the hugging wouldn't last as long as the flight but then he wasn't so sure.

"Excuse me, you two, your kid is like waiting here, if anyone cares. Daddy, like your kid is home. You two have the rest of the summer to smooch."

Ivan and Clay both laughed as Clay stepped back.

"Sorry," Clay apologized but most of the other passengers had already stopped to stare and then moved on. They'd never seen two men being affectionate in public.

When they finally parted they both had tears streaming down their cheeks. Dylan nearly knocked Ivan down as he charged in for his hug and then he was crying.

"You're here," Dylan said. "I wasn't sure you'd be here."

"I'll always be here for you, kid," Ivan reassured him. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

"Good thing I didn't need to go looking for you," Dylan said. "I missed you, Dad."

"You're home now. That's the important thing. Do you mind if I ask you a question, son?" Ivan asked.

"Go ahead," Dylan said.

"Where did you get that shirt?" Ivan asked alarm in his voice.

"You gave it to me. You don't remember?"

"I may have shortcomings and my memory might slip now and again, but I'd never, not ever buy you something that looks like that.

Both Clay and Dylan laughed.

"You said buy the kid something and tell him it's from you. That's what I bought."

"It's something all right. Do you know how ridiculous you look?"

"We should get our bags and get out of here," Clay said and they walked to the baggage carousel.

"A guitar?" Ivan asked as Dylan took it off the carousel.

"I'm learning to play," he said.

"He's rather good at it and he has a nice voice," Clay said.

"Now you're going to be a guitar picker and a singer. Where's the camera? You leave that on the boat?" Ivan asked.

Dylan reached behind him to touch the backpack.

"Right here," Dylan said.

"It will be a bit of a walk to the car. I can go ahead and bring it to the front of the terminal," Ivan said.

"No, you can't. You aren't going anywhere, stud," Clay said.

"Oh, yeah, let me look at that shirt, Dylan. What do you have on under it?" Ivan asked.

"My I Survived Guam t-shirt," Dylan said.

"Take it off and let me take a closer look at it," Ivan said.

Dylan stopped to empty his hands and he took off the Hawaiian shirt, handing it to his father. Ivan looked at the label and acted interested in the seams. As soon as they passed the first trash can, Ivan's arm plunged into with the Hawaiian shirt in it. When his hand came out the shirt wasn't in it.

"I'll buy you a real shirt the next time we go to Fort Myers," Ivan said.

Dylan laughed.

"Dad said you'd hate it," Dylan said. "I kind of liked it. Fits my personality."

"That shirt cost me $3.48 American," Clay said.

"I'll make it up to you, babe," Ivan said as they left the terminal.

"Promises, promises," Clay said.

"I missed you, Dad. Even though you threw away my birthday present," Dylan said.

"I missed you too. Do you know how much Tag hates picking up the trash at six in the morning? Bitch, bitch, bitch if he doesn't get his beauty sleep. You're way easier than he is at six in the morning. You're being home will make it a lot easier on me."

"Good to know how highly you regard my early morning demeanor, Daddy-O."

Clay yawned.

Ivan led them to the car.

"Stop for food or head for home?" Ivan asked.

"We'll stop on the way. Let's get out of Miami," Clay said.

"Home," Dylan said. "I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed if no one minds."

No one minded.

"I told your parents you wouldn't be in until tomorrow morning. I knew your mother would stay up to cook for you if she thought you were coming in late tonight," Ivan said.

"Good thinking," Clay said.

Thirty minutes later they were leaving Miami behind and heading directly west. They still had a long drive ahead of them, but home was where they all wanted to be.

Dylan sat in the backseat. Clay sat in front and held Ivan's hand. Ivan drove and Clay kept an eye on him as the hours passed. Dylan fell asleep again. He could sleep anywhere when he was tired.

It was after two when Ivan steered the Buick into the Conservancy house's driveway. He shook Clay easily to wake him. He'd fallen asleep right after Dylan did.

"What?" Clay said disoriented, with a brain full of fog.

"You're home, babe," Ivan said, hoping Clay wasn't going into the Conservancy house but Dylan would be.

"Not even," Clay said. "You aren't getting rid of me that easily."

"I was hoping you'd say that. If what you have in mind is what I have in mind, the kid can't come with us," Ivan said.

"Oh, please," Dylan said. "The kid is getting out. I don't want to know what you two have in mind," Dylan said, opening the back door.

"We'll get your things to you in the morning," Clay said. "Late."

"OK. Take my camera in the house. I don't want it left in the car," Dylan said. "Please."

"I'm on it, Dylan. Quiet when you go in. You're grandparents will be listening for you and they'll keep you up all night if they know you're home. They've been excited about you coming home all week."

"They weren't excited I was coming home?" Clay asked.

"I don't recall them mentioning you, babe," Ivan said with a straight face.

Dylan laughed.

"He's pulling your leg, Dad. Even I know that," Dylan said, "I won't tell you two to be good. I'm coming up there after breakfast, Daddy-O, and you two better be done doing whatever it is you do before then,"

"You better come up after lunch," Ivan said.

"If I didn't need to report in, I'd say make it after dinner," Clay said. "Come up about noon. We'll walk down later on."

"You know Mama will be up here if you aren't home by lunch time," Dylan said. "She'll give you until lunch."

"Yeah, you're right. We'll come down for lunch," Clay said. "Don't think about coming up. We'll come down tomorrow and you can walk back up with us later on and we can be together."

"Kewl. I haven't seen my father in two months. I'll be up after breakfast," Dylan said before shutting the car door.

Ivan and Clay waited until Dylan disappeared into the front door and then they embraced and started kissing. It took twenty minutes for them to drive the five minutes to Ivan's house.

"We can make love in the driveway, or we could go to my house, get naked, and wrestle to see who's on top," Ivan said.

"I'm on top," Clay said and if you don't get moving, we'll have to make love in the driveway. Wouldn't be the strangest place we've made love. Remember the day we made out in your father's equipment locker on the Vilnius?"

Ivan laughed.

"Kids will do it anywhere," Ivan said.

"Adults too," Clay said, kissing Ivan again. "God I missed you, Ivan. I began to fear I would never see you again."

"You're the one who left me, babe. You knew where to find me any time you wanted me," Ivan said.

"Speaking of wanting you," Clay said, kissing him again. "You're so beautiful. I love you so much."

They got out of the car, and after getting Dylan's camera out of the trunk, they walked around the side of the house and went into the kitchen.

Leaving the camera on the table, they hugged and kissed their way up the stairs, leaving a trail of clothing along the way. There was nothing left to take off by the time they reached the bed and they fell together on it.

Holding each other tenderly, they were finally where they wanted to be and they held on to each other tightly and didn't let go.

Being together is how it was meant to be. They'd been in love forever. Clay had little memory of a time when he didn't love Ivan. The first time he saw him, he watched as Ivan flew. He was glorious and Clay made up his mind, they were going to be friends.

Clay was fourteen that year and the Gulf of Mexico was right outside his backdoor.

Ivan was captivated by the Midwestern boy's innocence and simplicity. Clay saw a world that was black and white. Ivan taught Clay to see things in living color. Ivan was sure that adventure was the key to sustaining life. Clay would follow Ivan anywhere if Ivan wasn't following him.

They kissed and hugged and kissed some more. Nothing needed to be said. Love would do the talking. As much as Clay enjoyed the summer research trip, getting home to Ivan was the best thing he'd ever done. After all these years, they were still together.

They'd been together for more than half of Clay's life even when their were separated by 10,000 miles.

"I love you so much," Clay managed to say when their lips came apart for a few seconds.

"I didn't think you'd ever get home," Ivan said. "I love you, babe. I'm nothing without you. You are my life."

They made love and they did it all over again. They wouldn't be able to get enough that night but there were plenty of nights ahead. As dawn broke over the house next to the river beside the Gulf of Mexico, a soft breeze made the sheer drapes billow out into the bedroom. It cooled them enough to allow comfort. They wouldn't give up the hold they had on each other. They fell into a deep restful sleep.

There was a ruckus on the logs at the mouth of the river a hundred yards into the Gulf of Mexico.

"You, OK?" Ivan asked, seeing Clay's eyes opening.

"I slept three hours in Honolulu the night before last. I slept a while in the car," Clay said. "I'm awake now. Don't ask me why."

"The kids going to be up here before we know it. It's almost ten," Ivan said. "We could go down for breakfast. Get it over with."

"I'm too tired to argue with Dylan. He'll give us time to get dressed before he comes up," Clay said. "He always yells from outside in the morning."

"He's going to need to get some sleep too. Once Mama checks to see if you two came home last night. She won't need to use her imagination to know where you are. She'll probably let the kid sleep."

"Yeah, she knows we came in late and she knows where I am."

"She is going to walk up here if we don't go down there first. She won't yell before she comes into the house."

"Mama's never been in this house. She wouldn't know where to start looking for me," Clay said.

"I'll trust your judgment on it. I'm going to fix a pot. You want a cup of hot brew, babe."

"If it was a choice between you and a cup of coffee. I'm not sure which one would win out this morning," Clay teased.

"No contest. No cup of coffee kisses like I do, babe."

Clay laughed and they kissed.

Ivan got up and disappeared down the stairs.

A half hour later they were seated on the deck sipping coffee. Ivan was reading this week's issue of Time magazine.

"How many have died," Clay asked.

"I heard a man interviewed by CBS. He told of his lover getting it first. His best friend's lover got it. He knew fifty people that had it in the Village in New York City. He and his best friend were the only two of fifty friends who were still alive. His friend was too sick to leave his apartment and this guy wasn't much better. So sad. Hearing that guy talk about his friends dying, he had to know he was next. He said he wanted to live long enough to bury his partner. Then he didn't care what happened."

Clay couldn't say anything. He cried and sipped his coffee. The one thing he didn't miss was being cut off from news on the plague.

"I haven't heard the news or read a newspaper in two months. What's being done about it?"

"Same as when you left. No one mentions it, babe. It's a disease killing gay men. No one cares about gay men dying," Ivan said.

"The right people are dying. Does hate really run that deep? They don't know the men who are dying? How can people hate that much?" Clay asked.

"It's what they do, babe. They're miserable SOBs and they feel like they want to share that," Ivan said. "I was surprised CBS even ran that story. It's the first time I heard it mentioned on television. Dozens of gay men are dying each week in New York City. It's the same in L.A., Chicago, and San Francisco. After two years, that's a hell of a lot of people dying."

"When did human life become so cheap?" Clay asked.

"When gay men got a disease that's killing them," Ivan said.

Clay swallowed the coffee. It went down hard. Since Harry invited Clay to DC to talk to a doctor treating dying gay men, Clay couldn't forget what he said. He didn't know anything about AIDS, but he knew diseases were killing these men and they were diseases that didn't kill anyone before. Doctors were baffled but as far as he knew, no one was doing anything about it because of who was doing the dying.

"What kind of people let sick people die without lifting a finger?" Clay asked no one in particular. "We live at a cruel time."

"America is a strange mix of tough and tender, empathy and indifference, good and evil," Ivan said. "We live in dark times. Once they burned witches. I suppose we live in more enlightened times. They aren't burning us yet. They're delighted we're dying though. Takes a special someone to be made happy by people dying."

"We supposedly live in enlightened times but not enlightened enough to care about your fellow humans. Says something about us. There's a deadly disease loose and because they think it won't be killing anyone but gay men, they aren't doing anything. You can bet, when it starts killing them, they'll think twice," Clay said. "It will start killing them. You can mark my word on that."

"Enlightenment only goes so far when people are too ignorant to realize that it is coming for us today, but it will be coming for them tomorrow," Ivan said.

Clay didn't think about AIDS for the entire time he was gone. It was a reality he left behind him. Did that make him as ignorant as those who were overjoyed about AIDS? One thing was for sure, nothing had changed in the six weeks he was gone.

He had the same questions as when he left and there were no answers then and there were no answers now.

The silence on the deck took hold as Ivan read and Clay finally sat beside him, holding Ivan's hand. Pulling it to his face, he kissed the back of his hand.

"God, I love you," Clay said.

"I have no problem there, Babe. Just don't slobber on my hand," Ivan quipped.

Clay laughed holding Ivan's hand against his bare chest.

"You keep that up and you'll get more than you're bargaining for."

"Promises, promises," Clay said.

"Did you lock the door?" Ivan asked.

"I don't know," Clay said as Ivan leaned to start the kissing.

They wouldn't be catching up on sleep today.

About noon, Ivan got out of bed to get a root beer and a Coke. Clay was leaning against the pillows as he took the soft drink. He'd had something on his mind, forgot it, and then remembered again.

Ivan slipped into bed beside Clay after rearranging pillows.

"When I called from Honolulu," Clay said. "What was going on?"

Ivan knew the question was coming. He'd tried to think of an answer that would satisfy Clay. He decided that anything but the truth would stir up mistrust between them. The truth was what Ivan decided he'd tell Clay when the subject came up.

"While I was over there, I worked with this scary guy. He was my handler. He was a company man from his crew cut head down to his camouflage boxers. I didn't like being around him and he hated me. He hated everyone who wasn't a career Company man. One Tuesday evening, while Tag was watching the shop, he rented wilderness one to this guy. He didn't even use a different name. He wanted me to know it was him. He was there to send me a message. I caught sight of him while collecting the trash the next morning. He stood where I couldn't miss him. I went to check our guest registry book. He used the same name he used in Cambodia. His presence was a message of some kind. I have no idea what the message was, but he wasn't here for his health."

The next question was no surprise either.

"What did you do," Clay asked, thinking he knew the answer.

"First I came here. I got my gun. If he came near me, I planned to kill him. I did my time in hell. I'm done with that. He'd have to kill me to get me away from the cove. That evening I called Harry."

"What could Harry do?" Clay asked.

"The man has juice. One phone call and the guy was gone the following day. A senator apparently can't be ignored like a congressman can. Harry told me as much. Man's got power I never imagined he had," Ivan said.

"Where's the gun?"

"Back where it belongs," Ivan said.

"And you're telling me Dylan doesn't know the secret compartment is there?"

"No. Even if he knew it was there, he wouldn't be able to open it. I showed you how to open it and you still can't get into that compartment," Ivan said.

"I'm lame, Ivan. Dylan is way smarter than I am. One day, and I can't be sure that day hasn't come, he's going to look at the kitchen and then walk into the hall and go into the freezer. He's going to walk down the hall. He'll wonder where the missing three feet went to. He's going to know it's in between the kitchen and the freezer."

"He's not going to do that, Clay. He has no reason to think the kitchen is anything but a kitchen and the freezer is just a freezer."

"What I'm saying is, don't be so sure he won't discover the secret compartment. If he figures it out, he'll know immediately where you keep that gun you had when the gangsters dropped in on you. He's a fourteen-year-old boy, they can find anything if they know something is being hidden from them."

"If you say so. I trust your judgment, babe. That gun is the only protection I have. Tell me to ditch and I'll ditch it."

"You'd ditch it so I can't find it but I'm not Dylan," Clay said.

"If you say ditch. I'll ditch it."

"Dylan knows you have that gun. He knows it's in this house. You don't think he hasn't looked for it?"

"I think if he figured out the secret compartment is there, he'd tell me that he figured it out. He'd want me to know how smart he is. That would give us a chance to talk about the gun and how he's not to touch it under any circumstances if he didn't want his father falling on him from a very great height."

"Then he knows where the gun is and the only thing to stop him from checking it out is his fear of me. He plays me like fiddle, Ivan. He isn't afraid of any unpleasantness I might rain down on him."

"The sheriff's got a gun range. We went to school with him. How about me taking Dylan to the pistol range and teach him how to be safe around the gun. He learns to respect it for the dangerous weapon it is and he doesn't need to look for it because I'll show him where it is."

"Take all the adventure out of it for him. That would work with Dylan. I like that. I'm not saying I want you teaching my kid how to use a gun but it's a plan I could live with if it comes to that," Clay said. "This guy? How do you know he won't be back?"

"I don't know that, babe. Harry had him gone in a few hours. Whatever he was here for wasn't revealed. I don't know he won't be back tomorrow. I do know Tag won't rent him a campsite and I'll shoot him on sight. That limits his options," Ivan explained. "One thing is for sure, if he came here to kill me, I'd be dead. He wasn't here to hurt me. Why was he here? I don't know," Ivan said.

"I don't like guns. Guns kill."

"Can't argue with that logic. I'm a card carrying pacifist but there are some things I won't allow. Had I been less scared of Mason, and I wasn't so much scared of him as I was scared he'd force me to go back over there, I might have found out what he wanted. Needless to say, a guy I knew from Southeast Asia didn't accidentally rent a wilderness site next to the shop where I do business."

"You're sure he left?"

"Harry called someone. It was after eight when I talked to Harry on his private line. He called to explain what he knew about Mason. He told the guy what I told him."

"What did you tell Harry?"

"I'd kill him if he came near me."

Clay sipped his soda. He felt like the mystery had been solved. He didn't like the sounds of it, but it ended without any shooting.

"Would you have shot him, Ivan?"

"Yes, I would have shot him and I'm sure he knows it now. The man in charge called off his dog after talking to Harry and I'm left to wonder what he was here for. JK's does have good food."

Clay thought about what Ivan just told him. That brought him back to a question he'd once had but never asked.

"Where'd you go, babe?" Ivan asked, squeezing Clay's hand.

"Just thinking," Clay said.

"Thinking? You were in a trance. Why so serious all of a sudden?" Ivan asked. "Out with it. I can not tell a lie."

"Sorry. You were gone a long time, Ivan," Clay said, not sure if he was going to ask the question on his mind or not.

"There are no secrets, Clay. I was gone a long time but I've been home for a long time. Time to move on. What can I tell you that will finally put it behind us? It seems like a good time for that, babe."

"It's behind us, Ivan. I couldn't have missed you more if I tried. The trip went surprisingly well. I'll tell you about it once we've finished saying hello and that's going to take some time. We're fine. If I planned your return after your years away, my plan wouldn't be as good as how you've handled it. Yes, I still have anger over you leaving me and I might never be able to overcome it, but that's my issue. You've been fine. We're fine, Ivan."

"Then why not ask me what you want to ask. I've told you most of it. I left out the harshness of my treatment because it serves no purpose to tell you and I'd rather forget it. You know the rest."

"It's not that. It's this incident. It's that gun. I'm not going to pretend it doesn't concern me. OK, I'll ask you. Ivan, have you ever killed anyone? Have you ended the life of another human being?"

"No," Ivan said adamantly. "I was a listener. I did what it sounds like. There were always people nearby, company people, who would have protected me. Only toward the end did they finally give me a gun and that's because Cambodia became a nightmare," Ivan said. "I was trained for a month on how to use the pistol. Except for when the gangster and I crossed paths and the incident with Mason, that gun has stayed where it is since I came home. I never used it in the field. I was never that close to danger. I was very good at what I did."

Clay kissed Ivan on the cheek.

"I knew that. I had to ask and I believe you. I must admit, if you killed someone, I don't know how I'd react."

"I didn't use the gun over there except while they were training me to use it. I took it out because that gangster threatened me and anyone near me and I took it out after seeing Mason. I regarded him as a threat and I protected myself."

"Ivan, I don't like guns. There are too many guns in the hands of people with tiny minds. I'm sorry you've needed to arm yourself, but I understand why you did and it's not a problem. If there weren't so many guns, maybe there would be less need to have a gun."

"That makes way too much sense, babe," Ivan said. "I wouldn't say that to anyone else if I were you."

Clay laughed.

They kissed.


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