The End of the Road

"She's joking of course."

"No I'm not. Your parents weren't even worried about you, they reasoned that if you weren't out of the forest in two days you were dead so they hadn't begun to be worried."

I was invited to stay for dinner but declined, which, as it turned out, wasn't one of my brightest decisions. As I walked into the hotel Jeffrey signaled me over. "You should be warned, the Sherriff and his stupid son the deputy are waiting for you upstairs, if you have any reason not to see them I'd suggest that you find somewhere else to stay and I'll send your stuff on."

"Thanks but I've no reason to be scared of him." Famous last words as it happened. I was confronted by the Sherriff, a middle aged man whose uniform had almost given up on confining his gut. I'd smelt his cigar as I left the elevator and it pleased me not at all. He was chewing on it as I walked towards him. At least he took it out of his mouth to speak.

"Brian Saunders." No preliminary chit chat to put me at ease. "I'm placing you under arrest for the attempted murder of Hiram Billings." I noticed that his name badge read Homer Billings and His deputy's Hiram Billings so I assumed that I was supposed to have tried to murder his son. "Cuff him boy."

"Sure Paw." He unclipped the cuffs from his belt on the third attempt and moved towards me. "Hands behind your back and stand against the wall." I could just tell that he was going to shove me face first into the wall and, as he moved to push me, I side-stepped and sweeping my leg around, I kicked him on the side of his knee. "Dang Paw he hurt me again!"

I turned to face the Sherriff and the muzzle of his impressively large .45 Colt. "We'll call that resisting arrest." Resistance was useless and I was marched through the foyer of the hotel by the gun wielding upholder of the law and soon found myself a reluctant guest in his luxurious one star rat hole of a jail. I told him a dozen times that he was mistaken and that I was not Brian Saunders, but he either didn't care or was too thick to understand.

Half an hour later I had a visitor. Doc Wellington came in with a smile on his face, at least someone was happy. "You did a good job on Hiram's knee my boy, he'll be on crutches for months this time. You aggravated an old football injury. His weight and lack of exercise helped you of course, but there was no real strength there and it didn't take much to tear the medial ligaments again. I've posted bail so you're free, just as soon as he's finished the paperwork, although I wouldn't hold my breath, form filling isn't one of his strongest points. In fact I don't think that he has any strong points, he owes his exalted status to the fact that no-one is brave enough to oppose him."

The Sherriff came in with the necessary paperwork and I was released and told that I was to appear in court in two days. It didn't give me a lot of time to figure out this mess. If I could prove that I was Peter Roberts I could not have beaten Hiram, if however, I couldn't and it was established that I was in fact Brian Saunders, then I was in a lot of trouble.

"Do I get the impression that you and the Sherriff aren't poker buddies?"

"Was I that obvious? Let me put it this way, I speak to him only when my official capacity necessitates it, this being one such case."

"So what do I do now?"

"I'm going to invite you to come home with me and you can stay with Trish and me for the time being, at least until we can make head or tail of this. Those are Trish's orders by the way. "

"I suppose that we'd better obey her then. I need to clear up why everyone keeps calling me Brian."

"More to the point we have to get you off that ridiculous charge of attempting to murder poor defenseless little Hiram. I know something of the case and I believe that the only reason that you've been charged with trying to kill him was to hide the fact that you beat the crap out of him in a fair fight and he lost face, the kids weren't afraid of him anymore."

"Do you know what that was all about?"

"Trish. You and Trish had been going together for about a year and Hiram tried to muscle in on the act. He spread the word that she was his girl, and that they were going to get married when she came back from college. She, naturally enough, wanted nothing to do with him but he wouldn't take no for an answer, so you and him had a fight, if you could call it that. You hit him a couple of times and kneed him in the balls and he went down in a crying heap. He crawled home with his tail between his legs and told Homer that you'd snuck up behind him and beat him with a baseball bat. Homer went a little overboard with his reaction to Hiram's allegations and told your parents that you would end up in juvenile detention. That was when you disappeared, not even your parents knew where you were. We figured that, because there was a war on that you'd signed up and that when it was over you'd come home. Then your parents got notification from the military that you were missing in action and some time later that you'd died trying to escape and were buried in Germany."

"I can understand why Hiram lied about what happened but what were Homer's motives for his action?"

"The very same. He ruled by fear and intimidation, and no-one dared to oppose that rule. He had it figured that your beating Hiram might encourage others to try it on with him. He couldn't afford for that to happen because he'd burned his bridges with the folks around here, without the job of Sherriff he'd never have a job."

"I remember nothing of this. My first memory is of a hospital in Germany and the nurses looking after me really well and telling me to tell the liberation army how well they looked after us prisoners. I think that they thought that they might be treated better. Then I was hipped to a hospital in England that was full of servicemen like me that had either lost their memory or their mind. The doctors kept telling me over and over again that I was Peter Roberts from Boston, probably hoping that it would trigger something in my brain that would lead to me regaining my memory. It didn't work and I'm now wondering if I really am this Peter Roberts."

We'd arrived back at the surgery. Doc and Trish lived behind it in an attached house. Trish was stretched out on the sofa when Doc let us in. "I've rescued our hero for the time being, but this isn't over just yet, he has to be in court in two days and we either have to prove that he isn't Brian, or somehow get him off that ridiculous charge of attempted murder."

"The proving he isn't Brian isn't going to be easy, have a look at this." She had the high school year book in her hand and was pointing at the photo of Brian Saunders. On close inspection I had to admit that if he wasn't me he had to be my twin brother.

We talked for an hour or so after a pleasant dinner with Doc doing all the work in deference to the incapacity of the usual cook and bottle washer, when he decided that it was time for bed. "I think that you will need assistance to get into bed. Under normal circumstances this task would fall to me being both your father and doctor, but I don't think that I have the strength to do it and I don't want to call out a nurse just to put you to bed, so I'm going to have to trust the two of you not to get up to any mischief getting you into bed." The smile on his face said that he had no faith in us obeying his trust.

I helped Trish to her room and out of her jeans, the sight of her white underwear with her bush creating a mound at the junction of her legs sent my pulse racing. "Now I'm convinced that you're Brian, your cock always did have an autonomic reaction to my proximity." Her hand reached for my already hard cock. "I remember him from Biology class when we were learning about human reproduction, I only had to look at him to know that he was interested in taking learning to an entirely new level. He didn't disappoint me." Her hand had deftly opened my fly and released him from the prison of my shorts. "Ah yes, I recognize this cock, we had such good times together him and I." She kissed his head and then opened her mouth wide and engulfed him, her cheeks hollowed as she applied suction to him as her tongue was working its own particular magic. If I wasn't this Brian guy I was sure as hell jealous of him.

It was a tight fit getting her underwear over her cast but we eventually made it and she lay on her back and spread her legs to receive me. Her cast hindered her movement somewhat but she still managed to move her hips in an entirely satisfactory manner for both of us, and it was not very long before we both came. "Oh I forgot to tell you that you can leave him in and come inside me this time, not like the last time when you came anyway."

"What? I came inside you? I suppose that the next thing that you're going to tell me is that I hadn't worn a condom the last time."

"No you didn't but don't worry I haven't got your kid hidden away somewhere, we were lucky I guess."

"But you let me this time."

"I've got a diaphragm in. As soon as I knew that you were going to be staying here I inserted it, not that I'd mind if I fell pregnant to you, but I want to be sure that you're not going to be in jail before I let that happen. Now do you want to go to the spare room that we've given you, or would you rather stay here with me?" The fact that she had her hand on my cock and was applying a slight but threatening pressure to it made my decision easy for me. We slept together and it felt so good that I was disappointed in the morning when it was time for us both to get out of bed.

"I noticed that you didn't sleep in the bed that we so generously provided for you." Doc was seated at the kitchen table munching on a piece of toast that he held in one hand and sipping from a cup of coffee in the other, and reading the newspaper that was spread out next to his plate, as we walked into the kitchen.

"It seems that I had a better offer."

Trish took my hand. "Now I'm totally sure that he's Brian, his cock is as I remember it."

He seemed not to be concerned by her revelation. "So, now that we've sorted that out we'll need to find a way to get him off the charge."

"Surely if I can't remember a thing about it I can't be found guilty of the crime, can I?"

Doc looked at me with a pitying expression on his face. "I'm sure that you would have realized by now that Homer Billings is the law around here and he controls the evidence and the witnesses, if you have any thoughts of getting off the charge you'd better dismiss them. You don't stand a chance, not without our help and the odd miracle or two that is."

"Weren't there any witnesses that haven't been bought?" I asked hopefully.

"There were several, but they've been bribed or otherwise induced to have a sudden attack of the forgetories, unless. . . ."

"Unless what, or who?" Trish asked.

"Do you remember Bambi Jones? She told me that she had seen the whole thing and that Hiram had started the fight, he pushed you around and told you to leave Trish alone because she was his girl. You refused and he rushed at you and you ducked. When he was on top of you, you used his momentum and stood up, he went flying over your head and smashed into one of the uprights of the stand next to the football field. The whole team saw it and they were laughing at him and he slunk off with his tail between his legs. She was prepared to tell your side of the story until a week later when her father had a few too many and got caught for drunk driving. Homer offered to drop the charges if he could convince Bambi to change her story. She changed but I think she might be willing to change it back."

"Why now?" I asked.

"Her father was obviously under the impression that when Homer dropped the charge against him he'd be prepared to drop future charges. Homer was never that generous and he got caught a couple of months later. You'd done your disappearing act so Bambi's father had no leverage and did time. He died a couple of years ago and there is no reason why Bambi couldn't be convinced to change her mind."

"I'll go and talk to her." Trish offered.

"You'll do no such thing young lady. She's coming in this afternoon, she doesn't know it yet, but I'll call her and tell her I need to discuss her test results with her."

"What test results?"

"Her regular pregnancy test, she's not by the way, something that will please her, it means she doesn't have to break the news to either her husband or the potential father.'

"You're a devious old man." Trish told him. "I suppose that you're going to drag out the announcement for ages and when you tell her that she's not pregnant she'll be so overcome with relief that she'll agree to anything."

"Something like that."

"In the mean time I'll try and find out how it is that I've become Peter Roberts. I'll speak to someone in the Army Air Force, I might be able to lay my hands on a photograph of the crew of that Mitchell bomber. I was told that the reason that I survived was that I was the gunner in the dorsal turret and I was thrown clear. I have no recollection of that at all. All that I do remember was that the plane was extremely noisy and my ears used to ring for hours after a raid."

I had work to do, the first item on my full agenda was to go to the hotel and pick up my gear and take it Doc's house. Blind Freddie would have spotted Homer sitting in his car watching for me as I entered the foyer. "You seem to be attracting attention." Jeffrey said as I stopped to say 'Hi'. "He's been hanging around since around seven and for him to be up and about that early must have a special reason. Could it have something to do with Hiram being carried out of here on a stretcher yesterday?"

"That's part of the story. If what I now believe is true, then yesterday wasn't the first time that I'd beaten up on Hiram."

"Then the rumors are true?"

"If you mean the rumors about me trying to kill Hiram, then they aren't true. He attacked me because I wasn't going to stop seeing Trish Wellington. It wasn't much as fights go, he charged at me and ended up banging his thick skull on a steel pole. He told Homer that I'd snuck up behind him and hit him with a baseball bat and Homer believed him. Homer made threats to me and my parents and rather than see them hurt I took off. As there was a war on I joined up. That's the information that I've been told and I've been assured that it's true because I've lost several years of my life because of injuries I sustained during the war."

I grabbed my gear from my room and paid my bill. "Is there a back way out of here?" I asked Jeffrey.

"Sure, I'll show you the way."

"I've a mind to confuse Homer, don't be surprised if you see me walking into the hotel several times in the next hour or so."

"Would it help if I were to greet you as if you'd not been in before?"

"It would, thanks."

"Don't mention it, as you may have guessed I'm not a fan of Homer or his idiot son Hiram."

I left by the service entrance and took my gear over to Doc's place. "I'm going to be busy confusing Homer, I'll see you in about an hour." I kissed her, it was then that I noticed that she had been applying her artistic touches to her cast. What appeared to be a staircase started at her ankle and spiraled up her for as far as she could reach before it disappeared behind her leg. It returned from the other side, still spiraling upwards. She noticed me looking at it.

"You're going to have to do the back of my leg where I can't reach. This is for you, it's your stairway to Paradise." She chuckled. "I'll even put your name on it."

"And you intend to appear in public wearing that are you?"

"Of course, I have to tell everyone, including the lovely Trixie, that you're my man and to back off or my wrath will be savage and final."

"Are there no secrets in this town?"

I left her to carry out my plan. Homer's expression the first time he saw me walk back into the hotel from the same direction as before, when he hadn't seen me leave, wasn't much different from normal. The second time, after going out the service entrance and around the block, he looked a little confused, but by the fourth time he had to get out of his car and grab me. "What are you playing at Saunders?"

"Saunders? My name is Roberts, John Roberts, I'm here to meet my brother Peter and my three other brothers in that hotel. Now if you've quite finished, I'm running late and he hates it if I'm late." I shook free of him and walked into the hotel.

"You've really screwed with him, it's going to take days for him to figure that one out. I hear that he's got you in court tomorrow on that trumped up old charge. How would you like it if I can arrange a surprise for him?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"Can't tell you otherwise it won't be a surprise."

I managed to get through to the military records office and request a copy of both Brian Saunders' and Peter Robert's records. I was told that it would take two to three weeks for them to get to me. My real identity would be held in limbo for a while yet. The rest of the day I spent completing Trish's staircase and then climbing it to Paradise.

We were in the kitchen getting ready to cook dinner when Doc came in. "I've spoken to Bambi and she has promised to think about helping us out tomorrow, she'll let me know in the morning before court. Keep your fingers crossed boy, and hope for the best. And you young lady, it would seem that you've been opening your legs to this young man. I hope that you know what you're doing."

"I know only too well what I'm doing, making up for lost time is what I'm doing." She clumped around the table and kissed my lips before giving Doc a peck on the cheek and returning to the meal preparations.

The courtroom was packed with people when we walked in. The lawyer that Doc had retained for me leaned over to me as I sat at the defense table. "Don't worry son, Homer is in for a huge shock." He tapped a thick folder on the desk.

The judge came in and sat down. We all sat when told by the clerk. "Now Sherriff, what have we here?"

"Judge, the defendant is charged with the attempted murder of my son Hiram."

"When did this happen?"

"It was back a-ways Judge."

"Humor me, how far back?"

"1942."

"And you've only now seen fit to charge this man, why now?"

"He only just came back to town Judge."

"All right, get on with it."

"Judge, the defendant, Brian Saunders, is charged that on the 26th of November 1942 he did willfully attack Hiram Billings with the intent to murder the victim. He is also charged that on the 13th of July 1953 he did assault, causing grievous bodily harm, Hiram Billings and resisting arrest."

"How does the defendant plead?"

"Not guilty on all charges Judge. In fact Judge, my client has evidence to prove that he is not Brian Saunders, but that he is in fact Peter Roberts of Boston. We submit military records that show that Brian Saunders died attempting to escape from a POW camp in Germany in 1944." I wondered how he'd managed to get hold of my record so quickly.

"Judge we have proof that he's who we say he is."

"Both of you, up here, now." Homer and my lawyer walked to the bench. "What my ruling is, is that we will proceed with this trial on the evidence presented and work out who the defendant is later. If he's innocent his identity won't matter and if he's guilty he ain't going anywhere so we can take our time establishing the truth about who he is. Now Sherriff, call your first witness."

Hiram was called to the stand. He was wheeled into the court in a wheelchair and helped into the witness stand where he was sworn in. "For the record would you state you full name and occupation."

"Hiram Billings and I be the Deputy Sherriff."

"Now Hiram, I want you to cast your mind back to 1942, November 1942. Can you describe to the court the events that took place on the afternoon of the 26th?"