My Long Road Home

With one hand he pushed my face to the ground and then I felt something warm and hard being forced between my buttocks. I quaked in panic at the realization of what was about to happen.

Fred roughly penetrated me and, being a virgin, the pain was excruciating. I screamed but the rag effectively muted me.

He just laughed and called me a string of degrading names. Placing both hands around my neck, he began to choke me and continued punishing me with his dry penetration.

I knew by then that, even if he hadn't gagged me, no plea for mercy was going to save me. Struggling to breathe, I submitted to his overpowering force and simply hoped it would all be over soon.

I searched my mind for some happy memory I could lose myself in while I withstood my awful fate. That was when I latched onto the image of Brother Christensen comforting me in his strong arms; the hair of his brawny chest tickling my nose while I reveled in his intoxicating scent.

I'd be lying if I said it brought a smile to my face, but at least it helped me endure Fred's violent attack. His hands grew so tight around my neck that I soon blacked out. I supposed he must have loosened his grip when he sensed I was no longer resisting him.

Chapter 3

When I came to I was alone. My clothes were tattered and my jeans and underwear were still around my ankles. I drifted in and out of consciousness.

The next time I stirred I was vaguely aware that someone or something was licking my face. I was too weak to respond.

I thought I could make out the sounds of a person approaching in the distance but couldn't be certain. The next thing I knew I heard a voice and someone was gently shaking me.

"Son, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

That voice had a deep resonance I hadn't heard since the last time I'd seen Brother Christensen and, in spite of my circumstance, it soothed me.

"Wake up son, wake up."

My eyes fluttered open and I tried to sit up. I attempted to lift my arm in hopes of reaching that voice but I was too weak. When the man realized that he lifted me in his arms instead.

I must have lost consciousness again because the next thing I remember was lying in the backseat of a car with that wet tongue still licking me.

When I finally regained full consciousness I found myself in a bed with a thick blanket on top of me. I was naked as the day I was born and my wounds were cleaned and dressed. I scanned my surroundings.

The room was large, sparsely furnished and neatly kept. There was an armoire, a chest at the foot of the bed, a nightstand and a chair next to it. A man was sleeping in the chair and a dog lay at his feet.

Even in slumber the man's presence was commanding. Sensing that I was awake, the dog gave a bark and woke the man.

His flannel shirt could barely contain his barrel chest and broad shoulders. Chest hair showed in his open collar and his sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his thick, hairy forearms. His hands were like bear paws, big and meaty.

As he stirred he adjusted the cowboy hat on his head and I finally saw his face. He was probably in his early fifties with a thick but neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard.

His strongly masculine facial features and ruddy complexion left no room for doubt that he was an alpha-male; large and in charge.

"Oh! Thank goodness you're awake, son. You had me worried for two days."

His deep voice was calm but its resonance filled the room. He was the first man since Brother Christensen to call me 'son'.

"Ah...sorry, sir...where am I?"

"You're in my home. This is Duke. He found you on the ground by the truck stop two days ago. I'm Dale...and you are?"

"Ethan, sir."

He didn't say anything else. His eyes peered straight into mine...piercing, yet tender, kind, and comforting. It was as if he was signaling he already knew all there was to know about me.

Worried that I might have burdened him I looked away and tried to avoid his gaze.

"Son, don't worry about anything right now. You need to rest, heal, and regain your strength."

"Thanks. Umm...where are my clothes?"

"They were all torn and tattered...I threw them away when Doc and I were tending your wounds. I don't have clothes that would fit you, so I went to the store and picked up a few things. They're on the chest at the foot of your bed and I hope they fit."

"Where is the rest of my stuff?" I asked.

"Son, you and your soiled, bloody clothes were all Duke and I found. There was no wallet, cell phone, or anything else."

I felt shamed by my weakness and looked away again. Fred had obviously taken everything I had after his heinous act.

"Get some more rest, I'll bring you some soup."

Dale got up and headed toward the door. Duke started to follow him out.

"Stay here, boy."

The dog stopped in his tracks, looked at me and then returned to my bedside. Dale soon returned with a bowl of delicious soup that I quickly polished off.

When I finished he took the empty bowl from me. Just before leaving the room he turned and said, "You are safe here, son. I promise you everything is going to be alright."

My mind was full of questions about my host but, with my nourishing sustenance down, I fell asleep again almost immediately.

When I awoke the next day I was alone. I got out of bed.

On the chest were two pairs of Levis, a pair of flannel-lined pants, several pairs of underwear and t-shirts, a navy blue hoodie, a moss colored Carhartt jacket, some socks and a pair of tan leather work boots. I slipped into some of the clothes and they fit me surprisingly well.

I walked outside my room and was shocked by how big Dale's home was. It was a two-story log cabin.

Two staircases led from the great room to the second floor, where my bedroom was. Directly on the other side was another bedroom.

From the second floor landing I looked down and saw two rich dark brown leather sofas, a big oak coffee table, and a high back leather club car chair with a matching ottoman in the great room. Several large bay windows that provided unobstructed views of the surrounding landscape completed the front of the house.

I walked downstairs and explored the main floor. When I located the kitchen I saw a note on the refrigerator.

"Ethan, I need to check on some livestock. Doc will be in this afternoon to look in on you. There is food in the fridge. Make yourself at home.

--Dale"

After being thrown out of my parents' house the words 'make yourself at home' plucked my heartstrings. I roamed around some more and found a set of double doors.

I tried to open them but they were locked. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

I walked to the front door and opened it to find an older man standing on the porch.

"You must be Ethan," he said with a reassuring smile, "I'm Dr. Eisenberg."

Chapter 4

Dr. Eisenberg looked like something from a Norman Rockwell painting; a kind looking gentleman in a dark suit and wire rim glasses. He walked inside and directly went to the great room.

He put his bag down and asked, "So, Ethan, how are you feeling?"

"I guess I'm alright, Doctor. My head still hurts and my ribs are sore. Other than that I feel okay."

"You're lucky the Sheriff and Duke found you."

"Did you say Sheriff?"

Dr. Eisenberg ignored me and continued, "He called me right away and told me to meet him here. In the 20 years I've known him I'd never heard him sound so worried."

"You called him Sheriff."

"Oh, I didn't mean to confuse you. Of course you didn't know. Dale was the Sheriff here before retiring to take over his father's ranch after the old man passed away. He's very well respected in our community and even now people still call him Sheriff."

"Dale? Sheriff?"

"Yes, Ethan - and a mighty good one, too. He was part of the team that investigated the gay bashing and murder of that Laramie kid some 19 years ago."

It was then I understood why Dale's presence was so commanding.

"Let me take a look at you."

The doctor proceeded to unroll the bandages and check my wounds. My left side was covered in bruises and he gently pressed around on my rib cage and abdomen. I was still very tender and several yelps of pain slipped out as he examined me.

"Well, it looks like you're going to live," he declared with a smile and a wink, "but I suspect you might have a fractured rib or two. I'd like to have them X-rayed to learn the extent of the damage."

I nodded.

He sat down on a couch and said, "I need to ask you some questions."

I swallowed hard.

"There is no easy way to ask this. I can only imagine how traumatic it must have been for you but...were you...forced into nonconsensual sex?"

I felt ashamed and tried to avoid eye contact with him.

"Yes," I sheepishly confirmed.

Dr. Eisenberg nodded and seemed to render no judgment about me.

"Then I would also like you to get tested for STDs."

Once again I nodded my assent.

"I'll inform the Sheriff and let you two arrange for the X-rays and tests. Meanwhile I'd like to prescribe some medication to ease your pain. If you've sustained any rib fractures then the best way to heal them is to get plenty of rest and avoid any heavy lifting. Okay?"

"Yes, sir...and thank you."

"Then I'll let the Sheriff know to pick up your meds and leave you to your rest. See you next week."

"Thank you, Doctor."

When Dale and Duke got home late that afternoon I was resting in my room. Duke ran over and started licking my face again. Dale followed and sat in the chair next to my bed.

"How are you feeling, Ethan?"

"Better, sir...thank you."

He placed a paper bag on my nightstand.

"Here are the meds Doc prescribed you. He tells me you need some X-rays and health tests and that he wants to see you again next week."

"Yes, sir."

"No need to be so formal, Ethan. Please, call me Dale."

"I'm sorry but I just don't feel right calling you Dale after hearing the doctor call you Sheriff. May I call you that instead?"

"Ethan, I appreciate the show of respect but I'm not the Sheriff now. People still have a habit of calling me that...even the new Sheriff...but really, it's not necessary."

I guess he could see I was still struggling to honor his request.

"I've got an idea. Around here you can call me Dale, and when we're out in public you can call me Sheriff if it makes you feel more comfortable. How does that sound?"

"Ok...Dale," I replied, still feeling a bit disrespectful.

"Good...much better!" he said with a reassuring smile.

He looked me over, unable to completely disguise his concern.

"I know you and Doc discussed...several things. This might not be easy for you but we need to file a report on what happened. It's been three days now and the sooner we do that the better. The man who did this to you is still out there and probably looking for his next victim."

Suddenly I began to recall some details of the horrific ordeal Fred had put me through. I started tearing up and turned away from Dale.

He leaned in and laid a hand on my shoulder, "Let it out, son. What happened was not your fault and I give you my word that I'll see you through this. You believe me, don't you?"

I stopped fighting my tears at his at his assurance and nodded my head.

"Tomorrow we'll go to the Sheriff's office. We can file that report and see about replacing your ID. Now, get some rest and I'll see you in the morning."

I turned and looked at him, "Thank you, Dale."

He gave me a comforting smile and squeezed my shoulder again.

"Remember what I said, everything's going to be alright. Good night and sleep tight."

Chapter 5

The next day, Dale drove me to the Sheriff's department where I saw for myself just how well respected he was. When we walked into the county building he was warmly greeted by almost everyone. I was very impressed with how kind and respectful he was, even remembering the janitors' names and inquiring about their families. In spite of his commanding presence they all seemed perfectly at ease with him.

When we entered the Sheriff's department another round of warm welcomes ensued from all the deputies and office staff. Although no mention was made they were clearly perplexed to see him with me in tow. Dale could tell I found their obvious curiosity a little disconcerting and quickly explained that we were there to see Sheriff Dalton on a bit of official business.

To my relief that seemed to satisfy them and no further explanation was required or offered. Once inside the Sheriff's office Dale took care of the introductions.

"I'm afraid Ethan's stay here got off to a bit of a rough start and he'd like to file a report," he explained, "What he has to say should call you to action in the interest of public safety."

Sheriff Dalton listened attentively to my story and then said, "Thank you for coming in to talk to me today, Ethan. This is a very courageous step you've taken and I assure you both we'll make your case a priority. We can't risk the man doing to others what he's done to you. We'll get him. I promise."

Dale and I shook the Sheriff's hand and left. Describing the event in such detail was very traumatic and I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with Dale as we drove back to his ranch in silence.

Once there we were about to get out of his truck when Dale turned his face to me and laid his hand on my thigh. His touch was gentle and caring, yet I found it electrifying. I lifted my gaze to his.

With a kind smile he looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Son, you've done a difficult thing today...but you handled it well and I'm very proud of you."

He gave my thigh a little squeeze. I laid my hand on top of his and tightly pressed it to me. He seemed a bit caught off guard but made no effort to discourage me.

"Dale...I can't thank you enough for your encouragement. Your support means the world to me and there's no way I could have done this without you at my side."

His smile grew even warmer as he replied, "Anyone in my position would have done the same thing. It was pure luck that Duke led me to you."

"No...not luck. I think it was God who led you both."

We fell silent and just looked at each other. Words became superfluous in that glorious moment and I wished it could last forever.

Chapter 6

Over the week that followed Dale continued his daily routine of leaving the cabin by sun-up to check on livestock and coming back just before sunset. I followed Dr. Eisenberg's orders and simply rested.

That special moment Dale and I shared in his truck seemed to change nothing about how we interacted with each other. However, Duke seemed to pick up on something between us and began sleeping in my room at night.

Dale appeared pleasantly surprised by that development.

"You know, Ethan, Duke has never left my side since he was a puppy. He must really like you to want to watch over you while you sleep like he does."

I smiled at his observation.

"It kind of leaves me all by my lonesome at night," he concluded with a playful smile as he turned and walked toward his bedroom.

The next day Dale drove me to Dr. Eisenberg's office for my follow-up visit. He was impressed with my progress after carefully reviewing my X-rays.

Dr. Eisenberg said that, based on the results of the tests he'd run on my oral swabs, he felt fairly confident I was not infected with HIV. However, he then explained that he couldn't be certain without a blood test.

He drew three vials of blood and said they should be sufficient to conclusively test for HIV and any other STDs that Fred might have passed to me. We thanked him and left to await the results.

In the days that followed I began to regain my strength. Dale sensed my growing cabin fever and suggested an outing to show me his ranch. It was over 1200 acres of beautiful land located between Laramie and Cheyenne, Wyoming. Dale did most of the talking while I just enjoyed the sights.

His ranch was well maintained and ran yearlings on the property. I was awestruck by the different landscapes it encompassed, from miles of rolling grass hills as wide as the crystal blue Wyoming sky to trout-filled streams winding through picturesque mountain valleys teeming with top quality timber.

Dale drove up a hillside to a plateau and the view was, simply put, stunning. We got out of the truck and I was soaking it all in.

"Ethan, you know what?"

"No...what?"

"You're smiling!"

I felt the heat of a blush in my face as I became aware of the muscles in my cheeks uncontrollably lifting the corners of my mouth.

"Thanks, Dale. It's been a wonderful day and I've really enjoyed you showing me around."

I saw a herd of deer running through the valley and thought how nice it must feel to be so free of fear and pain, to live life with no regrets. I sighed.

"What's on your mind, son?"

I pointed at the deer and said, "I wish I could be as free as they are."

"Well...you can, but it takes heart."

I gave Dale a puzzled look.

"It takes heart to face your fear, to move on and live again, to trust...in yourself and in those who love and believe in you, which includes me."

Dale then came over by my side, put his arm around me and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

"Ethan, it's been three weeks since you came to my home and you haven't told me much of anything about your life before that. Christmas is coming in about a week. Shouldn't you give your family a call to let them know you're alright?"

"I don't know, Dale. I have doubts that they'd want to talk to me."

"You'll never know if you don't try. Remember, it takes heart."

He left me to ponder his words while he popped the rear door of his SUV open and hauled out a good size saw.

"Pick out a nice fir and let's go light that big ol' great room up with it!" he said with huge grin.

I spotted one about twice my height and pointed, "THAT one!"

"Good choice! That was the very one I had my eye on!" he said and swung into action.

He tied the tree to the top of the vehicle and patted my thigh as we took off for his cabin.

After we got back and set the tree up for decorating I mustered the courage to pick up the phone. Dale gave me space by going to the great room, pretending to read a magazine while I lifted the handset and dialed.

The phone rang twice before someone picked up.

"Hello?"

To my relief it was Mom.

"Hi Mom, it's me...Ethan. How are you?"

"Oh! Ethan! I'm so glad to hear your voice, baby! Where on earth..."

My mom's voice was suddenly cut off by some noisy static and then I heard my father's instead, "We don't have any son name Ethan here! And don't bother calling again unless it's to let us know you've come to your senses and changed your sinful ways!"

With an abrupt but not entirely unexpected click the phone call was over. My father's words confirmed I would never be welcomed back into my home...their home. I had to accept that in his eyes, and especially his house, I was as good as dead.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I ran to the front door, running with all my might out into the bitter evening cold until I lost my balance and fell into the snow that blanketed the ground. Once my tears stopped I pushed myself up onto my knees.

Dale came up beside me and helped me to my feet. He took me in his arms and hugged me like Brother Christensen did that day in his pool.

"I'm sorry, son...so very sorry."

My tears began to flow even harder and I clutched his substantial body all the more tightly. He just held me till I finally calmed down and then he wiped my tears away.

"Ethan, I should never have pushed you into that. I had no idea, but I think I understand now. Please forgive me."

He tightened his arms around me.

"Maybe someday they'll come around...give them time. For now you're safe...here with me. Everything's going to be alright."