CARTER'S ARMY: WILLIAM CARTER
1
Chapter 23 - By Christopher Patrick Lydon
December 24th
Christmas mass was a unique event in that small town, it was
the one religious event where the whole town crowded into that old church.
The religious and agnostic alike attended that service. It had been decided
a long time ago that the mass be held jointly in the same church, both Anglicans
and Catholics sharing in one larger and common show of faith.
It was Father Fitzpatrick's turn that year to host the ceremony,
and perform it in a traditional Catholic fashion. No one seemed to mind; in
small towns across North America the divide that tore places like Northern
Ireland apart were meaningless in the face of the spirit of celebration.
It was still early, and the choir was beginning to set up for
the late night performance. A tradition that went back to when the church
had first been founded, the choir always performed a set of hymns and carols
before the mass started.
Andrew was standing at the back of the church, his mother had
insisted he wear his suit and he felt so adult, waiting for... waiting for
the man he loved to join him and his family for the first time. It was a little
scary; his mother didn't know, and at some point he would have to tell her.
But that was not something you just spilled out over Christmas dinner in between
conversations about Uncle Ronnie's new pool and requests to pass the peas.
No, that was a Thanksgiving conversation definitely, so that gave him nearly
a year to avoid the issue.
When Will arrived, in the company of an ever-vigilant Brody,
who kept one hand on his shoulder steering the frightened rabbit who looked
set to bolt if given a chance. Andrew couldn't help but give him a reassuring
smile; Will was a timid creature when he was uncertain of himself. Yet in
some moments, he had the determination of a bull.
Andrew took a step forward to say hello, but was cut off by
Majella dragging a protesting Arthur along with her. She was fussing over
Will's appearance, straightening a collar that didn't need straightening and
adjusting his tie. And again Andrew smiled as the look on Will's face changed
to one of aggravation at all the fuss he was being subjected to.
"You will sit with us," Will's strong-willed French
aunt said firmly to him, as if she were making a declaration.
"Actually," Andrew said, stepping around her, "He
was invited to join my mother and me." He smiled, "But I'm sure
my mother wouldn't object if you wanted to join us."
He took small delight in the sudden shift in Majella from overconfidence
to hesitance as she glanced to where Micheline was standing with the choir
warming up for their performance.
"No, no," Arthur said shaking his head firmly, "we
shouldn't intrude." The last part was firmly directed towards his wife,
who looked set to protest until she saw the finality in Arthur's eyes. She
reluctantly agreed with him and the pair of them left. Brody had vanished
somewhere as well leaving Will and Andrew alone at the back of the church.
Will gave a shy smile, looking slightly uncomfortable as if
trying to see into the darkened corners of the church without fully stepping
into it. And Andrew followed his gaze. The church was filling fast, and there
were several kids from their school sitting with their parents. The looks
they were getting told him that the rumour was spreading fast.
A few of the stares and murmurs were from adults as well.
"Looks like we're making an impression," Andrew said,
sticking his hands into his pockets defiantly.
"I could just go..." Will said, turning back to the
door and freezing, his eyes wide.
Andrew knew who it would be before he turned around. The Major
standing stock still in the entrance to the Church, decked out in his uniform
with his peaked cap tucked under his arm. Behind him his wife holding onto
little Lucy's hand.
There was a tense moment, the Major's eyes travelling first
over Will, and then over Andrew. They stopped, weighing and considering heavily;
there was no doubt in Andrew's mind, the Major knew exactly the who, what,
when, where, how and why of it all.
The seconds dragged by, as that heavy brow furrowed and those
eyes darkened with barely controlled anger. And Andrew felt Will tensing up
behind him, as if he was about to bolt, and run for his life.
Andrew wasn't about to let that happen. "I had hoped to
avoid this, we both did," he said, stepping in front of Will protectively,
his shoulders back and a vivid current of electricity that hadn't been there
a moment before hummed in the air. Andrew was as resolute as old oak. "You
are going to leave us be, you are going to take your seat, and you are going
to have a Merry Christmas..."
The Major appeared on the verge of an apoplexy, the vein in
his forehead throbbed as he turned varying shades of red till finally settling
into a deep purple. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Lucy
slipped out of his wife's hands and dashed to wrap her short arms around Will's
legs.
"Happy Christmas, Willy..." she said in a tiny voice
that was so filled with emotion that everyone's eyes were dragged to her.
Will's eyes welled with tears, as he knelt down to wrap his
own arms around her. The Major and his wife looked on in frustration, both
realizing they were in public and the entire town was watching them. Andrew
could see the rage seething in the Major's eyes and he rested a hand protectively
on Will shoulder.
Will looked up at him; Andrew looked like a knight at the end
of his prayer vigil, ready to take up a shining sword, a gleaming shield.
And his desire to run away withered; no matter what happened, he would be
all right.
Whether the Major liked it or not.
But before the Major could say anything they all heard it: crescendoing
over the rest like the trumpet of Gabriel, like the magic voice of Orpheus
in Hades--Brody. Will forgot all about the major. Will forgot about everything.
When a knight won his spurs, in the stories of old, He was gentle
and brave, he was gallant and bold;
With a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand
For God and for valour he rode through the land.
Absolute perfect pitch without vibrato his voice was hollow
and pure and huge and it slowly filled with passion.
No charger have I, and no sword by my side,
Yet still to adventure and battles I ride,
Though back into storyland giants have fled,
And the knights are no more and the dragons are dead.
It went on and on, fell in a cascade of notes, then sailed back
up, soprano parts delivered with all the power of a grown man's lungs and
diaphragm. It was the voice of God calling the world into creation, the primeval
dawn, and Will's jaw hung open.
Let faith be my shield and let joy be my steed
'Gainst the dragons of anger, the ogres of greed;
And let me set free, with the sword of my youth,
From the castle of darkness the power of the truth
Brody came to an end at last as Will released Lucy and she was
swept back up into her mother's arms. The Major flashed a look of utter hatred
at them, but it was half-hearted after the shock of the performance as he
guided his new family past them to take their seats amidst a jostling crowd
of applause and "bravos!"
In shock the two boys stared at their friend in wonder and utter
disbelief until Father Fitzpatrick took the microphone, "That was beautiful;
Brody's grandmother, as you all know, passed away this year after losing her
fight with cancer. She directed our choir tirelessly for over forty years,
and it was our pleasure to allow her grandson to sing her favourite hymn on
this holiest of nights..."
The power of words.
* * *
Will was strangely quiet and introspective riding beside Andrew;
it was something he just did when he was on car rides. Sit and stare out of
the window and think. Things would only get harder from here, and he knew
it. It was no longer just a whisper in a hallway, no longer an insult thrown
at his back, it was a very real part of his life and he had to accept that.
"My mum's going to be in bed when we get back home,"
Andrew was saying, trying to rouse Will out of his introspection. But I know
she wants you to stay the night...
"Do you think that's a good idea..." Will asked, feeling
the soft cashmere of his jacket sleeve as he rested his face against it. "After
tonight everyone is going to know..."
"You don't know my mum." Andrew said firmly, shaking
his head, "People don't gossip to her, they know better. Though she deserves
to know..." he swallowed, no doubt wondering how he was going to broach
the subject with her.
"Should we tell her..." Will asked quietly.
"It would be one hell of a Christmas present," Andrew
flashed him a decidedly wicked smile, "Happy Christmas, I'm gay..."
"You're probably right." Will replied, suddenly dreading
the prospect of spending the night at the Highmore's. Maybe if he feigned
an illness... or just asked to go home. Close his eyes and hide under the
covers and the whole mess would just go away. But that would mean losing the
one thing that meant the world to him... and as he sat there thinking, he
knew that he couldn't lose Andrew.
"Don't worry about it," Andrew said, reaching out
to lay a hand on Will's. "You're going to have a good time, and she doesn't
bite..."
"...hard... often... strangers..." Will finished for
him, offering him a shy smile. Andrew grinned in return as the Mustang pulled
into his driveway and rolled to a stop behind his mother's car.
Will swallowed and followed him into the house. It was a converted
trailer, one that had long ago been set onto a foundation and several extensions
had been built onto it giving it more room. It had the feel of a bungalow
to Will, roomy and comfortable but all on one level.
Though the furniture was a little worn, it had more of a used
look to it, and everything seemed to invite him in. The table sitting beside
a large set of patio doors had a floral centrepiece in the middle of it, and
there were photographs hanging on the walls of a happy family.
He stopped beside one, and blinked a couple of times, looking
back over at Andrew, "You look just like your dad..."
Andrew came over to the pictures, squinting his eyes a bit.
"I guess I do," he said, not entirely sounding convinced. But to
Will the resemblance was almost shocking, showing Will a glimpse into an alternate
Andrew, one who had never met him, one who had gotten married, had a kid...
lived a happy life...
"Hey..." Andrew said, wrapping his arms around Will.
"You okay?" he asked warmly, and Will felt the warmth of Andrew's
love steady him before he plunged down that road of self-doubt and loathing.
"I'm okay," he replied quietly.
"Mmhmm," Andrew said suspiciously, guiding Will, while
still keeping him wrapped up in his arms, down the hall and into the last
room at the end of the hall. And Will looked about at the comfortable den,
with its books and a large TV tucked into the corner.
"Retro-seventies..." Andrew said with a huge smile
as he looked about the room, collapsing into the sofa dragging Will down with
him. As if he didn't want to let Will go now that he had a hold of him. Will
wasn't objecting.
"Strangely suits you," Will replied nose to nose with
Andrew.
Andrew shook his head, "Nope, you're the old fashioned
one. If I had my way this would all be gutted and turned into a loft or something.
Throw in a pool table..."
Will glanced again at the room, "Awfully small pool table,"
he remarked, but before he could continue Andrew kissed him lightly on the
lips.
"Shut up, Carter," he said with a smile.
Will leaned back and arched an eyebrow, "What if I don't
want to?" he stated firmly.
Andrew leaned in and kissed him again, this time gently tugging
on the lower lip with his teeth as he playfully settled back onto the couch,
"If you don't, I won't kiss you."
"Well," Will said casting a look towards the door,
"considering your mother is just up the hall I think I should jolly well
keep talking..." He had an Andrew firmly attached to his lips again,
and he sighed in frustration, relaxing into the kiss and picked up right where
he left off when Andrew released him, "...because the last thing I want
is..." another kiss, "...to have her walk in here..." he was
smothered again, and his shoulders sagged defeatedly, "...fine... you
win..."
Andrew flashed that cool-calm-and-collected smile as he rolled
off of the couch, leaving Will to peer over the edge of it at a completely
composed and innocent-looking hockey player... well, that was what one would
have looked like if there were any innocent hockey players.
Will blinked a couple of times, "Huh?"
Andrew smiled his usual collected smile, as he lifted the remote
and clicked on the television, "want to watch a movie?" he asked
raising an eyebrow suggestively.
Will continued to look puzzled, "Umm okay..."
Andrew stretched out alongside the couch and flipped the channel
till he came across something Christmassy and he left it. It was a particularly
old film that really wasn't that interesting, but they watched it reach its
overly sentimental conclusion. Movies on Christmas Eve, Christmas morning
by now, were like that, trying to convey a message of hope.
However, neither of them were paying it any attention, they
were both looking at each other with a nervous anticipation. Seeing the hope
they both shared.
"Are you going to join me down here, or do I have to go
get you?" Andrew said, finally sitting upright.
"Your mother..." Will reminded, and Andrew considered
it a moment before shrugging and reaching out to pull a reluctant Will down
onto him.
"She's asleep," he whispered in a low, husky voice,
cradling the younger man in his arms, "for now I just want to kiss you..."
Their lips met again as they kissed. Will loved the texture
of those lips. The slight coarseness of Andrew's face. The intensity of the
kiss heightened their arousal, each battling for supremacy with their tongues.
Will leaned back, his legs straddling Andrew's chest and he looked down on
the man he loved. It still felt strange, but they were so far beyond a juvenile
notion of sexuality at that point. In the face of the feelings Will experienced
at that moment, all his doubts before seemed so trivial.
Andrew looked up at him, his head resting on the floor with
his sandy blonde hair splayed out around it, that coolly confident look in
his eyes, "Say it."
Will chuckled, "Say what?" he replied coyly.
"I love you." Andrew said with a smile.
"I know." Will replied and leaned in to kiss him again.
Two words that meant more to him, and conveyed more than 'I love you' ever
could. For the first time in his life he was loved unconditionally, and he
knew it.
Andrew smiled, "Bastard," he teased as he sighed contentedly,
reaching up to untuck Will's shirt from his belted trousers.
Will looked down, wondering if he should stop him, but felt
that electric thrill leap through him as Andrew's fingers found skin. He gasped,
every instinct wanted him to giggle and his eyes went wide.
"You're ticklish?" Andrew said, his eyes suddenly
lighting up, "I didn't know that..."
Will licked his lips and took a deep breath, "I can control
it," he said reassuringly, more for his own benefit than for Andrew's.
Andrew's smile became wider as smiled up at Will, "I am
going to have to test that theory..."
