Trials and Triumphs I
By: Morris Henderson
(Copyright 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 12
STRANGE DESTINATIONS

The following day, Ted had not returned from New York.   He had not phoned home but Eric was not concerned.   Although the man was obviously upset when he left, Eric was confident that the legal difficulties with the business acquisition would be resolved.

He decided to track down his former father's grave.   The first step was to visit the library and scan microfilms of the Denton Record Chronicle newspaper around the time he'd been told was the time of death.   An hour later he found the very brief obituary: just his father's name and age, the date of death, and the funeral home that posted the notice.

The Director of the funeral home was at first reluctant to provide any information but Eric was persistent.   After learning that his visitor was the only son of the deceased, the Director retrieved a file folder, scanned it and provided the information Eric sought.   The cause of death was an accident; he had stumbled off a curb into the path of an oncoming car.   He was buried in Copper Creek Cemetery.   Then the Director violated his own policy and revealed something astonishing.   All mortuary and burial expenses had been paid — in cash — by an anonymous individual.   "No, the Director said, "My records don't include his name nor do I recall what he looked like."

Eric's next stop was the Copper Creek Cemetery where he found the grave and a large marble headstone.

Walter Mathews

6/10/1950 - 12/17/2001

Weep not.   He is at rest.

Eric collapsed to his knees, cried, and mumbled through his tears, "You were a good man .... once.   And a good Dad.   I loved you.   I'm glad you're at rest.   And no longer suffering."

As he drove home, the mystery of the anonymous donor haunted him.   Was it my mother?  NO!  No one had heard from her for more than six years.   Was it the church my father had attended?  Not likely.   He stopped going to church when Mom deserted him.   Was it a co-worker where he once worked?  Even more unlikely because they, too, were unemployed and couldn't afford the cost of burial.   Besides, they never contacted him when he was alive.   A relative?  Unlikely because the only relatives were cousins who lived far away and they never called or visited.   The most probable suspect was Ted.   But HOW would he have known?  And WHY would he do such a thing and not tell me of my father's death?

Eric resolved to ask his new dad about it when the time was right.

Three days later, Ted returned from New York with good news.   The sale of the company would go forward.   A group of influential stockholders in the conglomerate had objected and threatened a lawsuit over the contractual provision to keep the company operating and to keep current employees for five years.   After sensitive persuasion and careful tweaking of the purchase agreement, the discontented shareholders were pacified.

Ted and Eric went to bed early that night but didn't fall asleep for hours.   Ted had a lot of pent-up desires to satisfy.   Eric willingly resumed his duties.   He refrained, however, from asking about his father's burial and gravestone because he didn't want to spoil his new dad's homecoming.

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Eric's passport arrived in the mail.   "That's great!" Ted enthused.   "Now we can see the world.   Together.   There are so many places I want to see ... so many things I want to do.   Are you as excited as I am?"

"It'll be wonderful," Eric replied but with far less enthusiasm than Ted had shown.   Luxury living and travel was the reason for the young man's agreement to be available for sex.   But the sex had lost much of its appeal because of its frequency and because it was entirely physical with little if any emotional component.   He did not dislike Ted.   He was grateful to him and admired him but he felt nothing that could be called affection for him.   Ted was always considerate but hadn't shown any signs of genuine fondness.   Theirs was a relationship exclusively based on physical sex and gratification of primal urges.   Even the kisses seemed to Eric to be designed for erotic stimulation rather than an expression of a warm esteem.

"We'll go see the travel agent tomorrow morning," Ted announced in a way that allowed no discussion.   "Our first trip will be to Peru to visit Machu Picchu."

"What's that?" Eric asked innocently.

"You don't know?" the man exclaimed with a tone that implied (at least to Eric's ears) the teen's ignorance. 

"It's an ancient Inca city, built in the early fifteenth century as a home for the Inca Emperor Pachacutec ... or Pachacuti, depending on the translation.   But it was abandoned before the Spanish Conquistadores invaded.    For centuries, only a few native Inca people in the area knew of its existence.    Since the Spanish invaders never knew it was there, it was one of very few Inca sites left in a pristine condition.   It was completely unknown by the outside world until it was discovered by Hiram Bingham, a Yale historian, in 1911.   Since then, it’s been reconstructed and much of it and opened it up to tourists.   It's difficult to reach.   It's about eight thousand feet up in the Andes Mountains.   But judging from the pictures I've seen, it's spectacular and well worth the climb.   If you liked the Rockies, I think the Andes will blow your mind."

“My, my,” Eric exclaimed.  “You certainly know a lot about the place.”

Ted grinned and said almost apologetically, “Ancient civilizations fascinate me.  Especially the Incas and Aztecs.  I’ve read a lot about them.”

A week later, Ted and Eric flew to Lima, Peru.  The only minor problem occurred upon landing when the immigration official questioned Eric about why a young man was traveling alone.  "I'm not alone," Eric protested calmly and pointed to Ted.  "I'm with my father."

"Then why do you have different last names on your passports?" the suspicious officer inquired.

Ted overheard the conversation and said, "He's my adopted son.  I adopted him when he was twelve years old and encouraged him to keep his last name.  It would avoid a lot of complications in school records." The explanation was offered with such confidence and pleasant authority that the uniformed officer believed it and motioned them to proceed to the baggage claim area.

"That was clever," Eric said softly to his dad.

"Success depends on anticipating problems, Son.  And being prepared with a solution if they occur.  That's true in business and it's true in every other part of life.  But you already know that.  That's why you finished school, were so good when we negotiated our relationship, and you save your money as insurance against some unforeseen problem."

Eric grinned at the compliment but the idea of an unforeseen problem took root in his mind.  He was aware of one problem for which he had a tentative plan: when to ask Ted about whether he paid for the burial and, if so, how to react.  Another potential problem, however, he couldn't predict: a deterioration of his relationship with a generous and considerate man with whom sex was becoming more of a duty than a pleasure.

They collected their luggage, went through customs and boarded Aero Peru, a local airline, for Cusco, the city from which a train would take them to Aguas Calientes (English translation: Hot Waters), a rapidly growing town due largely to the tourist trade.  From there, they would board a bus to travel up the twisty, curvy road to the ruins of Machu Picchu.

They spent the night in a Cusco hotel, retiring early because Ted wanted ample time for sex before sleeping and because they had to catch the train by half past six in the morning for the four-hour ride to Aguas Calientes.

What the train lacked in comfort was made up for by the scenery along the base of the Andes Mountains.  As they passed the remarkable agricultural terraces of rice and every spectral color of potato that one could imagine, Eric asked rhetorically, “It’s not at all like Texas, is it?  It’s even more spectacular than the Rockies.”  Ted just grinned at his young companion’s child-like enthusiasm.

The train passed the colossal ruins of Ollantaytambo and followed along the Urubamba River to what was once the shady little village of Aguas Calientes.   Along the way, Eric spotted colorful parrots, orchids of every shape and color, and a giant condor that seemed to glide effortlessly across the sky.  Ted thoroughly enjoyed the scenery but Eric was awed by the beauty and experienced a strange sensation of being on an alien world.

At last they de-trained at the River Station for Machu Picchu and joined a tour group led by an aging man who claimed to be a descendant of the ancient inhabitants of Machu Picchu.  His sun-darkened skin and the distinctive Native American profile seemed to substantiate his claim.

At Machu Picchu, Ted seemed to know almost as much as the tour guide and showed in subtle ways his delight when he asked the guide questions and occasionally got a response of, "I don't know, Sir."  Eric, by contrast, was fascinated with what he saw and what he heard and was not surprised by the depth of his benefactor’s knowledge.  Midway through the tour, however, he felt like he did in school when he couldn't remember everything the teacher had said.

The last train back to Cusco left at five.  But Ted was delighted that he'd also made reservations at the modest but modern Machu Picchu Hotel (owned and operated by UNESCO) just outside the main entrance to the ruins even if it was over $800.00 per night per couple. 

As the "sacred" Sun was setting over the misty pinnacles of the Andes, native Quechua Indian men gathered near the light of an open fire-pit near the hotel, and began playing eerily haunting melodies on their local instruments: the Queña (like a small flute), the bamboo Panpipes, and the Cajon Drums with deep-sounding tones even though the instruments looked like plain old wooden boxes.  They also played the Charango Guitar and the Andean Violin. 

Young ladies in their colorful shawls and their bright printed full skirts with tons of petticoats beneath came around to the candle-lit tables on the hotel patio terrace with glasses of Pisco Sour, the delicious but strong national drink of Peru.  Eric whispered discretely to Ted, “If I were straight, these beautiful girls would give me a hard-on.”  Ted laughed.

Eric accepted the Pisco Sour but, honoring his vow to abstain from alcohol, gave it to Ted.   Then the ladies brought out platters of Llama, Beef, and Guinea Pig, commonly called "Cuy", the Andean equivalent of Beluga caviar because they are so desirable.   Of course there were bowls of rice with Ahi chili peppers that Ted relished but Eric found too spicy.  Bowls of mashed, fried, boiled, broiled and raw but delicious potatoes made up the rest of the meal, only to be topped by Flambée Flan, a flaming, succulent custard made from Llama milk, honey and fertile eggs with very young embryos of chicken in it.  Eric thought the custard was the best part of the meal but groaned when Ted told him about the embryos.  “It’s quite all right,” the man said.  “It’s healthy, safe to eat, and you have to admit it’s delicious.”

Over the next two hours, the musicians played louder and faster tunes.   Gringos, now uninhibited by the Pisco Sours, rose from their dining seats and danced — singly, with their spouse or companion, in threesomes and foursomes.  A few men danced together, and a few women danced together.  Everyone was enjoying the festive activity.  It took some gentle persuasion from a slightly inebriated Ted but a very sober (and essentially shy) Eric joined his companion on the dance floor.

The altitude cried for another Coramina Glucosa tablet, a common help for travelers going to the upper levels of the Andes because altitude sickness can be quite painful and the little white tablets, though used for other purposes around the world, are tiny lifesavers in mountainous regions. They are available without prescription in every airport and at any local 'farmacia'.  Ted had purchased a bottle upon arrival in Cusco and easily convinced Eric to use them.  The teen was reluctant, however, to accept the offer of a couple of Coca leaves that could be chewed on while engaged in some high-spirited activity like dancing in the thin air of the Andes.  He relented, however, when Ted said that Coca Cola contained the juice of the Coca leaf until 1929, but in the '40s, it could still be found.

After a succession of fast dances, the musicians played a slow tune to signal the conclusion of the festivities.  Ted and Eric clasped each other tightly and moved to the slow rhythm, grinding their crotches together and oblivious to what the strangers around them might think.  Ted whispered very quietly into Eric’s ear, “I’d like to sneak off and lie down with you on the grass in the shadows of the hotel.  We can enjoy each other and then just gaze at the southern sky with the Southern Cross Constellation and sparkling stars above us.”

“Wouldn’t be safer and more comfortable in the hotel room?” Eric asked.

“I suppose you’re right.  Being arrested in a foreign country can be very problematic.”

The next day was spent with another visit to the ruins where they just roamed around without the regimentation of a guided tour and marveled at the beauty and the ingenuity of the so-called primitive inhabitants.

In the late afternoon, Ted suggested they wander off to a nearby hillside.  Eric knew what that meant.  They would find a secluded spot away from the crowd and engage in sex just as they had in the Colorado Rockies and Glacier National Park.  His assumption turned out to be correct.  They found a spot near the 'Temple of the Moon' on the backside of Huayna Picchu, the tall peak behind the ruins in this ancient land.  It may have been due to the fabulous surroundings but Ted was extraordinarily horny.  He achieved an erection before lowering his trousers and maintained it for longer than Eric could remember.  His orgasm, in spite of the previous night’s ejaculation, produced a prodigious amount of cum.  Eric, too, found the episode, his first in a foreign country, to be more satisfying than what sex with Ted had lately been.

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Three days after returning to Denton, three days in which Ted frequently reminisced about what he clearly thought was a fascinating visit to Machu Picchu, he and Eric were snuggling in bed as they always did after a prolonged period of sex.  Ted murmured to his young partner, "I've said this many times before and will continue to say it but you've made me a very happy man.  Thanks."

It was not the opening Eric had hoped for but the issue of his father's death and burial had become almost an obsession so he replied, "I'm glad you're happy.  But there's a mystery I have to solve before I can be completely happy."

"What's that?" the man asked in surprise.

"My father died.  I didn't know it at the time.  Somebody anonymously paid for his burial and a fancy headstone.  I don't know who did that.  If we're going to live together, I think we ought to be honest with each other.  Was it you?"

Ted was quiet for several moments, which Eric interpreted as a tacit admission.  Finally, the man said, "Yes.  You know already that I had a private investigator looking into your past.  During that investigation ... while you were living with the Winstons ... he learned that your father was killed in an accident.  I knew that he was penniless but also felt he deserved a decent burial.  So, yes, I took care of it."

Eric's fury ignited.  He sat up in bed and shouted, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?  My father died and you kept it from me!  We had our problems before I left home but I loved him.  I still love him ... at least the way he was before he took to drinking.  I loved him in a way that I can never love you after you've deceived me.  What else is there that you haven't told me?  Don't you trust me to handle the truth?  Don't you respect me enough to be honest with me?  Or am I just one of your expensive possessions ... a staff whore boy?"

"Calm down," Ted urged.  "You're an important part...."

Eric interrupted by saying, "Calm down? Why the fuck should I? You've USED me!  You've been dishonest by keeping important information from me!"

Ted contritely said, "I'm sorry, Eric.  I didn't tell you because I didn't want to upset you."

"What else have you been keeping from me?"

Ted paused, debating whether or not to disclose another, more significant item of information.  Finally he said, "You're right.  I should be honest.  And there's something else I should tell you.  Please.  Please listen to what I have to say.  About twenty years ago before my wife divorced me, I was struggling with my urges ... my basic nature.  My wife was cold and our sex lives had withered away.  I thought I could resolve my inner conflict by finding another, more congenial woman.  I did.  An employee of a firm I did business with.  We worked together on a major project for a few months.  We'd have dinner and drinks together from time to time.  One night, she subtly suggested that we become friendly.  Long story short: we got a hotel room and had sex.  I never saw her again after that one night.  Eventually, I yielded to my nature and found male companions.  But I got caught and it precipitated the divorce."

Ted paused so Eric asked, "So what's that got to do with me?"

"My affair with the woman was nine months before you were born.  The woman was Anita Mathews.  Your mother.  Your father was not your biological father.  I am."

Eric was stunned by the revelation.  He stared, speechless, at Ted.  The enormity of the truth overwhelmed him.  He and his REAL father had been having sex.  Repeatedly.  Frequently.  Worst of all, the lascivious man KNEW it.

He jumped out of bed, ran to his own bedroom, collapsed on the bed and cried.

Ted followed him to apologize and to console his son.  But Eric shouted, "Get the fuck out, you bastard!"

Ted, recognizing the futility of pacifying the angry teen at the moment, returned to his own bedroom to spend a long time regretting his errors of judgment and planning a way to reconcile with his partner.  Sleep was fitful for both Ted and Eric.

Early the next morning, Eric gathered a few things.  He would exercise the escape clause in the agreement with Ted and leave.  For the third time in his young life he would be homeless.  The father of his childhood turned vicious, threatened him with serious injury and ordered him to leave.  His very good friend and first sex buddy inexplicably turned against him and evicted him from the house that had been a safe haven.  And now, by his own choice, he would escape from a man who had effectively enslaved him and whose only interest in him was continuing gratification of lust.

The life of luxury with world travel was more of a mirage than a miracle.  The comfort and the adventure of travel were enjoyable but he could no longer tolerate Ted's insatiable hunger for sex that had degraded the sex act from a thrilling experience to a mechanical obligation.  Intimacy devoid of emotional bonding was unfulfilling.  Infinitely more unacceptable, however, was the man's inexcusable deception and dishonesty in withholding the truth.  He was no longer willing to prostitute himself in the service of a self-centered master.  NO!  He would control his own fate!  He would be homeless again but this time it would not be a traumatic crisis.  He had a modest but adequate amount of money and it was a path he chose voluntarily.

When he told Ted of his decision and the reasons for it, the man listened with disbelief.  He countered the young man's arguments not by promising to be more honest or by expressing affection but by emphasizing the rare opportunity to travel the world, to navigate through the Amazon and Nile rivers, to explore the South Pacific islands, to visit all seven continents and enjoy what each had to offer.

Eric recognized the fundamental nature of Ted's reasoning: generous compensation (but trivial to a billionaire) in exchange for loyalty and obedient sexual servitude.  That, compounded with the man’s fraudulent duplicity only strengthened Eric's resolve to leave.

Eric went out the front door and walked down the long driveway toward an uncertain future but with a confidence in his ability to survive and succeed, leaving an aging man distraught over his loss but none the wiser for it.

End of Part 1

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

(1)  My thanks to Iatia for significant contributions to this story.

(2) More of Eric’s trials and triumphs will appear in Part Two of the story, which will be posted later. 

Posted:08/10/12