The Last Handful of Clover - Book 3: The Stone in the Stream

3.40 In the Stone Fortress

It was the loving, desperate, nurturing embrace he remembered them sharing when they were first together, before things went so horribly wrong. This was the same tender, compassionate, and hungry boy who had stolen his heart.

The one I wronged so utterly, he thought, taking on the weight of those burdens he had discarded only moments before.

Both Richard and Justin were weeping now, desperately clinging to each other as if they could squeeze the pain out of their hearts in the embrace. And despite the tears, Richard's heart felt full. These were tears of love and grief and sadness, but not tears of frustration and rage. And he welcomed them.

"I have you, sweetie," he said, softly into the boy's ear. "I've got you. It's okay. I have you..."

Justin's words were hard to hear, and so full of tears that they sounded more like the cries of an animal than the young man he remembered. He felt the boy's hands grasp his shirt and pull them together so roughly that they both nearly fell together into the dust. Finally, he made out some of the words.

"Oh, Professor," Justin whimpered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry!"

"I love you, Justin. I always have. And I always will. I'm so sorry, for everything. But I have you now, and it's all going to be okay. I'm going to make it okay..."

And in that moment, Richard allowed himself to believe that he had found his redemption. He allowed himself to believe that Justin had forgiven him, and that somehow this ghostly embrace in this unreal place would be enough to heal all the pain, all the betrayal, and all the rage that had grown between them since that fateful day.

That horrible day when I lied and told him I didn't love him, and never had.

But even as he tried to grasp that hope and hold it close, he felt it slipping away.

He had indeed set aside his despair, his regret, and his guilt over what he had done. But Howard's invitation had only allowed him to set them aside for a time. Howard's blessing, and this place, had not healed those wounds. As the memory of them crept back into his soul, and as the weight of them bore him down once again, Richard knew that there would be no healing for him. He could never make right what he had done. And the regret for it all made him want to cry out.

This moment of transcendence could only be a moment. It was a gift that Howard had somehow given the two men. But even Howard's pure spirit could not sustain it indefinitely. Richard knew Howard was strong. He was capable of great compassion and sacrifice. But not even Howard Gunderson could change the past.

And in despair, he sensed that Justin too was losing Howard's grace.

Slowly, Richard felt his former lover's arms unwrap themselves from around his back. He felt the boy push him away, and only then did he realize that Justin was no longer crying. Neither of them were. The face of the boy that looked into his eyes as he pushed him away was no longer the pure face of the innocent boy who had spent so many days here on this hillside, yearning for a life beyond Utah; yearning for a life that Richard Pratt would first offer, and then steal from him.

Now those eyes were once again hard, defiant, and cruel.

Defeated, Richard allowed his arms to drop as well, and he fell back against the rock. He was still just inches away from Justin, but the gap between the two men had once again become immense and impossible.

Nothing is solved, he thought, his heart cracking in his chest. Nothing is ever healed. Pain and loss and regret can never be healed. It's the essence of what it means to love. To be human.

Feeling more hopeless than he had ever felt in his life, Richard stared into Justin's eyes, which looked back on him as if they were made of cold steel.

"Justin," Richard said, remembering why he had come here. What Howard had risked so much to give him an opportunity to do. "We need your help. Will you help us?"

Justin just continued to stare, but now Richard thought he could detect a tiny and cruel smile growing in the corners of the boy's mouth. It was as if he knew what Richard was about to ask, and was only waiting for his chance to deal this, his final and most devastating blow against the man who had betrayed him.

"We think we know where God is," Richard continued, although his heart no longer felt as if it was in the fight. "But we need to know if we're right... We need to go to him, and... stop him from what he is doing to this city. We need your help."

Justin just stared at Richard so long that he was about to give up on the boy replying. And his stare ripped at Richard's chest with such sharp talons that soon all Richard wanted to do was to flee from this place. To find his way off this hillside, out of Howard's mind, and run as far away from Justin's judgmental eyes as he could possibly run.

Consolation and redemption are an illusion, Richard thought. Or, perhaps, this moment is simply the burning away of the last humanity in Justin. And in me.

Finally, Justin leaned forward until his face was only inches from Richard's. His tears had dried now, but the marks they had left on the boy's face were still visible. The illusion of this place was so complete that Richard could see the reflection of the lichen-covered rocks and the clear blue sky in the boy's hard gaze. He could even feel the boy's breath against his lips.

A hard smile crossed Justin's face.

"I don't forgive you, Richard," the boy said. "I don't care anything for God now. But I also don't need to destroy you. Not anymore. And do you know why? I don't need to destroy you, because you will destroy yourself. Maybe, you already have." He leaned back hard against the rock and actually shrugged his shoulders. "You are damned, Richard Pratt, and all that is left is for God to consume your broken soul."

Richard could not bear to look into the boy's eyes for another moment. He let his gaze fall to the shattered rocks under their knees.

"You want to know where he is?" Justin continued. "I can tell you. Precisely. I can send you right to him. But I want something in return."

Richard knew exactly what Justin was going to ask, and he forced himself to look back into the boy's eyes to hear it. He owed him at least that. He owed the boy the respect of looking into his eyes when he rejected his demand.

"I want you out," Justin said. "And I want to stay here. Forever."

Justin looked triumphant. "You want God? That's easy. I'll give you God. You give me Howard Gunderson."