Exiled: A New Beginning
Prelude
It was on the beautiful,
sunny Saturday of April 10th 1880, when they arrived. The weather was cool and
a slight breeze from the ocean made it seem even chillier than it actually was.
Twenty-eight of what had originally been forty-five, men stood on the beach
watching the last boat return to the ship which was anchored a quarter mile off
shore. All stood alone with the exception of the one couple hanging onto each
other. All wore expressions of weariness and uncertainty. They had been told
the island, although far from being fully charted, was considered relatively safe and
more importantly, it had an ample supply of fresh water and game.
Situated not far from the
men were some livestock and a number of large wooden crates filled with the
supplies they had been assured were more than adequate for their survival. Crates
filled with preserved food, basic farming implements, medicinal items, cooking
utensils, tents, blankets, saws, axes and, how had the priest put it, ‘a means
to their redemption from hell, if they so choose to follow it’.
They
had also been told they should consider themselves fortunate indeed, as they
were the first to benefit from the newly instated humanitarian statutes; laws
that required them to be sent into exile for the rest of their natural lives
rather than hanged, as was the previous sentence when convicted of perversion
such as theirs. ‘Fortunate?’ many a man thought. ‘To be exiled for the crime of
loving someone of their own gender. If this was fortunate, Lord help those less
blessed than we are.’
List of
Characters
Thomas Fields
Galen Deon Manara
Aiden Mackenzie Shea
Dr. Lakota Evans
Lt. Lawrence West
Walker Drummond
Raythe de Torgul
Quentin Bradley
Raythe de Torgul
Quentin Bradley
Wayne Richard Bentley
Wesley Roy Bentley
Thadeo Beau Sawyer
Troy and Levi Harris
Spyke Ty Lambert
Yancey Devon Hayes
Brock Trenton Foxx
Samuel Boyd
Seth Ryan Edwards
Jordan Kyle Adams
Brodie Joel Baker
Nathan O’Sullivan
Gille Wheaton
Dallas Carter
Kelby Curtis
Hendrik Van Der Berg
Mitchell Wolfe
Preston Chadwick
Kevin McCaw
************
Thomas Fields
At
the age of thirty, Thomas had been a sixth-generation landowner of the
largest farm in the district. Thomas’ late father, William, had left the farm
to Thomas and asked only that he keep on his sister and her ne’er-do-well
husband, George Ryan. William had never wanted to see his beloved daughter
living in the level of poverty which marriage to a man like Ryan could only
provide. After they married, the two had been provided with a beautiful little
cottage only a brief walk from the main house. This however, did not meet with
the desires of the money-grubbing Ryan. He wanted the farm and house as his own
and was determined to find a way to get his hands on them.
Thomas
was not married and knew he never would be; his sexual orientation would never
lead him to find a wife. He had always been drawn to his own gender but because
of the stringent laws of their land, knew he had to hide this fact at all
costs. He took a young lover in the person of Jacob Tyndel, a farm hand his
father had hired more than a year before his death. Thomas and Jacob were
deeply in love and they discretely shared a bed in Thomas’ ancestral home.
Six
months after William’s death, George caught Thomas and Jacob in bed together.
He took this as the opportunity he had been waiting for and called in the local
‘Perversion Police’. But with his hatred for his brother-in-law being so
strong, he gathered together some other men of his own thinking and while they
restrained Thomas, they lynched poor Jacob from a tree in the yard before
police officers arrived. Since there had been great controversy about the
passing of the new law that would have all homosexuals exiled rather than
hanged, the officers turned a blind eye to the lynching and took Thomas into
custody. It took less than a week for Thomas to be tried and convicted of the
perversion of sodomy and acts against God and nature. He was stripped of all
his land, which was then given over to his brother-in-law, and sentenced to be exiled
with the first group of men who would be shipped out in a month’s time.
Now
Thomas stood watching the great ship turn away from the island as reality sunk
in. Here he was, with all these strangers on this island and expected to
survive. He asked himself, as he had so many times in the last weeks, whether
he really wanted to survive? But he knew that if for no other reason than the
teachings of his father and the love of his Jacob, he would survive. There were
lost, lonely and scared souls to be tended to; shelters to be erected; work to
be done, and Thomas Fields was no stranger to hard work.
Thomas
turned to survey the rag-tag grouping. Already he could pick out the men among
them who would lead; their faces grim with determination, and the men among
them who would need leadership; those faces lined with anxiety and fear. He
picked up the two carpet-bags containing the only personal belongings he had
been permitted to bring and was starting to walk towards a man who
was attempting to pry open a crate, when he spotted a lone figure glancing out
from behind a tree.
Galen Deon Manara
Galen
stood off to one side, partially hidden by the tree he was hanging onto. Even
wearing the thick handmade sweater his grandmother had knit him, he still shivered.
He was frightened and already homesick. ‘Better not go there,’ he thought. ‘I
have to learn to consider this my home now, as much as I’d prefer not to. Not
the nicest beginning to a new year in my life.’
The
third child and second son of a well-known wine-producing family, Galen had
grown up in a loving home periodically overflowing with up to four generations
at a time. His paternal grandparents, his parents, his older brother,
sister-in-law and sister still lived there. As a youngster he had spent many
happy days playing with his siblings in the vineyard he had come to love and
care for in his teens. He had been frail as a toddler; plagued with ear
infections, bouts of croup, and various allergies. As a result, he had always
been nurtured, carefully watched-over, and fondly referred to as the ‘runt’ of
the family. Now, only his small stature and a loss of hearing in his left ear
remained along with the ability to read lips; a talent he had unconsciously
developed during those earlier years of illness, and still took for granted.
Two
years past, Galen had told his family of his thoughts and feeling towards his
own gender. Although none of them had rejected him, most had expressed their
sorrow at the life before him. Several weeks ago, a disgruntled employee had
reported overhearing a conversation between Galen and his parents on this very
subject. Due to the ‘witch-hunt’ mentality of the community, the legal
authorities were quick to arrest, charge, convict and sentence anyone even
rumored to have homosexual tendencies. Even though Galen had never been
sexually involved with another man, neither his family’s influence nor his tender
age of still being a couple months shy of his eighteenth birthday, was enough
to prevent him from being tried and eventually ending up where he presently
found himself.
Galen
stood and watched the ship slowly turn towards the horizon, not that he’d miss
it. He had suffered greatly from seasickness throughout the entire voyage. He
glanced down at the satchel at his feet and the guitar carefully wrapped in
goatskin leaning against it, before turning to look around at the other men who
had been abandoned here with him. Most, if not all, were older than he was and
all seemed to be in some degree of shock. He hoped his limited skills could be
put to use here and enable him to pull his own weight. Looking over the array
of faces, he wondered who would take charge now. He saw a man
glance his way and silently pleaded for the stranger to offer assistance,
knowing he would never be able to approach anyone himself.
Aiden Mackenzie Shea
Aiden’s
clear blue eyes took in the large group of men surrounding him. ‘Now are we no
a motley crew!’ He sadly smiled and shook his head. Six feet-five inches tall,
he stood with his feet apart, hands on his hips and lifted his face skyward to
breathe deeply of the fresh sea air, appreciating the slight breeze that lifted
the dark blond hair off his shoulders and stirred the hem of his kilt. He
headed over to the pile of crates that supposedly contained all they would need
to survive. ‘Aye, but for how long?’ he wondered.
He
was thirty-two years of age and a master cabinetmaker by trade. He was more
than grateful for having been allowed to bring his chisels, planers, joiners
and other tools necessary to do whatever would be needed in the building of new
homes and furnishing them. ‘Should keep me busy for a long time to come,’ he
sighed in resignation to his plight and that of the others.
Aiden
accepted that he would never learn how he and Tyrone’s relationship had been
discovered or by whom. They had been so diligent, or so they thought. Aiden
still mourned the loss of his companion. Although they had not been in love
with each other, their friendship had temporarily fulfilled a need within them
both. Having taken his own life, Tyrone had not had to withstand the trauma of
going to trial, or of being sentenced to permanent exile and shipped from his
home and the life he knew. ‘Thank God me poor Mam, may she rest in peace, is no
longer around to worry o’er me fate,’ Aiden thought as he picked up the crowbar
and set about opening one of the crates.
Dr. Lakota Evans
Lakota
turned his back on the sea and the departing ship. He had lost everything; his
home, his friends, and his practice. After all these years of traveling afield
for his clandestine rendezvous, someone had finally spotted him in an intimate
setting with another man. Upon his return home, he had been apprehended as he
stepped off the train.
In
the land of his birth, he would not have been rejected for his sexual
orientation. There, it was having a white father that had him grow up an
outcast. In the land he had chosen to call home, his being of mixed parentage
had not posed too much of a problem but his preference for men had resulted in
his being exiled. But the one thing they could never take from him was what he
was. Short of rendering his hands useless, they could never change the fact
that he was one of the world’s leading surgeons and an extremely knowledgeable
herbalist.
The
good doctor looked around at the others who had been stranded with him here on
this island. This place would become his new home, these men his new friends
and patients. He would care for them.
Lt. Lawrence West
Larry
was a career military man. He lived and breathed the military way of life.
Anyone who met him would understand this in a second. Larry was six feet tall
and his eyes were so blue, they sparkled like finely cut sapphires. He had
short dark hair that was military standard and it about drove him crazy when
from time to time he was on maneuvres and couldn’t get it cut.
There
was only one area in his life where he didn’t live within the military code of
conduct. Larry liked men, and what got him in trouble was his infatuation with
the first officer of the ship he last served on. One night an unexpected
problem arose on board. The Captain’s cabin boy burst into the stateroom and
found the First Officer and Larry in a very compromising position. Of course,
the cabin boy felt it was his duty to report the incident. Before Larry knew
it, he was being hauled before a court martial tribunal where he was found
guilty of conduct unsuitable for a marine officer. He was sentenced to a life
of exile. The First Officer was the son of a very prominent politician, so his
role in the ‘forbidden act’ was swept under the rug so to speak.
It
was well known that a certain ship had been commandeered to take men who had
the same inclination as Lt. West, to a remote island. As luck would have it, or
bad luck depending on how you looked at it, the ship was docked at the same
port of call that Larry’s was. The Commanders of the two ships were old
friends, so Larry was transported aboard the second ship without going through
the normal channels. He was given just enough time to pack his belongings.
Besides his clothing, Larry took along the only other thing of importance to
him; his journal that held his deepest thoughts and emotions. It was his best
friend and he never went anywhere without it. He had a feeling he would really
need this companion where he was going.
On
the ship Larry adjusted well. After all, he was a marine and they were used to
making rapid changes. Once he settled in, he did what he did best; he closely
observed his surroundings and the men nearby. His eyes kept coming back to a
large man, who in his own right had a military-like manner to him. He
discreetly asked who this man was, and learned he was of Scottish descent and
worked with wood.
As
the ship approached the island, Larry was the first to volunteer with the
unloading. It was his nature to be at the forefront of things but not in an
overbearing way. His take-charge attitude gave others a feeling of security,
not hostility.
Walker Drummond
“Admittedly
it doesn’t look ideal but then again, it could have been much worse,” Walker
muttered emotionlessly. He had long ago resigned himself to it being just a
matter of time before his preference for men was discovered, trusting his bitch
of a sister-in-law to make sure of that. Fortunately, he did not have to bear
the responsibility of someone else being arrested and exiled with him. “My
profession will not be of any use here, but my other interests should come in
very handy.” He smiled for the first time in a long while, picked up his
suitcases and slowly approached the small group of men busily engaged in opening
crates
Raythe de Torgul
Raythe stood away from the others and surveyed them.
He didn’t even bother to watch the boat as it was pulled back aboard the ship
that had delivered them here. He had been on and off ships for most of his
life, but it was the men here with him who concerned him most. The wind tossed
his waist length hair across his face and he impatiently pushed it back. He
thought he saw a few of the men glancing at him suspiciously, but chose to
ignore them. It wasn’t the first time people had looked at him oddly for his
long hair, almost feminine features and obviously mixed heritage.
He knew his mother had been of the Cherokee tribe and
his coloring came from her, but she had died in a brothel when he was a child.
He knew he didn’t really have any skills that would be helpful here. Well,
except maybe one and that it would be far from the first time he had made his
way either lying on his back or up on his knees, depending on the customer' preference. He
had spent many a month on a ship as the local relief, since women were considered
unlucky. He just hoped that these men wouldn’t be rough like the last ones had
been.
He admonished himself once again for calling for help.
Rape or not, it was still wrong to lay with a man, and since the men in
question had connections, it was easy to twist the truth and only the
long-haired youth had ended up taking the blame. Oh well, that was
life and he would do whatever it took to survive.
Quentin Bradley
Quentin glanced around the sea of strange faces.
Having had little opportunity to converse with others on the ship, none were
overly familiar. The only thing they had in common with each other was their
sexual orientation. Another time, another place would in all likelihood have
never found them together. What at the time had taken place so painstakingly
slow; now seemed to have happened in a fast-changing kaleidoscope of disjointed
events.
‘How did I ever managed to find myself here?’ he
wondered as he unconsciously rubbed at his right temple in an effort to
eradicate the dull ache plaguing him. Like many others, his detention and the
trial followed by the sea voyage all formed a blur on the edge of his mind as
he stood there on the beach wondering, ‘Is this really the more humane way for
the authorities to have accomplished their goal to remove us from society?’
Wayne Richard Bentley & Wesley Roy Bentley
The
twins stood close together, for once drawing support from one another. They had
not been so physically close in a long while, each preferring to go their
separate paths with their own particular group of friends. How had they ended
up here? Their brains were numb with shock. It seemed as if one day they had
been the toasts of the town, the spoiled and pampered sons of one of the
richest men in the city; the next they had been exiled and branded as sexual
perverts.
“Oh
boy, I imagine this made big news,” Wayne muttered wryly. “What great
publicity! Only this time we will not benefit from it, will we?”
Wesley
glared at him and hissed. “How can they do this? Don’t they know who we are?”
“Who
gives a damn?” Wayne answered bitterly. “Homosexuals are not tolerated in our
world. Haven’t you learned that yet, thickhead?”
Wayne
was born twenty-two years ago, twelve minutes earlier than his twin brother,
Wesley. They had shown remarkable singing talents from a young age, and with
their aristocratic good looks along with their father’s wealth and backing,
they had become celebrated public figures in the polite world. They were
recognized everywhere they went. Being identical twins gave them an added
advantage and it always caused a stir when they both appeared together in
public. People often stared from one to the other, marveling at the charm and
charisma exuding from the stunning pair.
Behind
closed doors, it was a different matter. Their temperaments varied greatly and
they had very different tastes in music, friends and food. As a result, they
frequently argued and fought.
“Where
is this god-forsaken place?” Wesley whispered as he looked around the beach.
“Home,
brother,” Wayne replied harshly. “Get used to it!” he advised without a trace
of humor in his voice.
Thadeo Beau Sawyer
Thad
stood quietly coming to grips with the need to bid farewell to his past. While
most of it wouldn’t be missed, there were some precious memories he’d always
hold dear. Gone was the small business his father had bequeathed to him. The
sign on the front of the shop had read Bathhouse and Barber, but behind its’
closed doors lived the secrets of private clientele who regularly visited the
establishment in order to enjoy the special services Thad provided there. That
is, until that fateful evening when a grievous error on his part had resulted
in his arrest and subsequent exile.
Thad
glanced down at the satchel by his feet. It held all his paltry belongings:
bits and pieces he had been allowed to salvage. He sardonically smiled at the
memory of the guard’s expression when the man, after breaking down the door,
first set eyes on the demolished room. Thad had methodically destroyed all he
could not take with him, not wanting others to have what he could not. ‘They’re
lucky I didn’t burn the place to the ground!’ he thought.
Troy & Levi Harris
Troy compressed
his lips as he glanced at the young man next to him, remembering what had
brought them to this pass. He had been Levi’s tutor for almost four years. It
was somewhat less than a full year since they had realized just what kind of
feelings they had for each other. Troy knew exactly what the penalty was for
loving someone other than a female, but he was almost thirty and was willing to
accept those consequences. At the time, Levi had been barely more than a lad of
nineteen and Troy regretted that his love for his student had pulled him away
from the life of luxury he was accustomed to.
Levi
looked up at the older man as if reading his thoughts. “Don’t blame yourself,
Troy. I knew what I was getting into.”
Troy
only smiled. Well, nothing could be changed now. He looked around at the other
men on the beach, most of them still in shock, and was determined they would
make it. He owed at least that much to Levi.
“Let
us get away from the water, love. The last thing we need is either of us to become
ill. I don’t know what type of medical supplies they have provided for us.”
Levi
smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “It won’t be so bad as long as we’re sick
together.”
Troy
let out a little chuckle. At least he knew his love’s spirit was far from
broken.
Spyke Ty Lambert
‘This
does not look good!’ Spyke thought as he threw himself down on the beach and
stared out at the empty horizon. ‘Alright, I’ll admit it’s slightly better than
jail but by how much? What the hell am I supposed to do here? I’m a house-boy
for god’s sake; at least that’s what the fat bastard called me until he caught
me with one of his drinking buddies. And just kicking me out wasn’t good
enough; the son-of-a-bitch had to turn me in. Oh shit, maybe with a little luck
a huge wave will roll in and wash me out to sea. Then again, I’d never be that
fuckin’ lucky.’
Yancey Devon Hayes
‘Thank
God we’re finally here!’ Yancey groaned. He had thought the voyage would never
end. Obviously he’d have never made a sailor. Nope, nursing was his profession
and he was damn good at it. He had graduated at the top of his class from the
only male nursing school in existence. It had been established almost fifteen
years ago and he felt privileged to have been a student there. He had loved his
work at the hospital and had loved caring for people. His patients had been his
whole world until one had been caught in the act of making sexual advances to
him. When the incident was brought up to the head nurse, the patient’s word
proved better than his own. During the discussion, his sexual preference was
brought into question and he had been arrested.
“I
only hope there is a doctor among us,” Yancey whispered prayerfully as he
looked over the men gathered about. “Although I’ll try my best, I don’t know if
I can take care of the medical needs of all these men on my own.”
Brock Trenton Foxx
Brock
stood tall at six feet-four inches, with two hundred and twenty pounds of
solid muscle. With feet apart and hands on hips, he was uncaring of the picture
he presented. He was dressed from head to foot in buckskin, his long black hair
scraggly and blowing in the breeze. The large, formidable-looking man scratched
at his unkempt beard as his gray eyes slowly scanned the surrounding area.
‘Serves me right for asking a stupid question,’ he thought, silently laughing
at himself. ‘At least I’m no longer incarcerated in a filthy cell or on that
god-forsaken ship!’
He
had only wanted to pay a visit to an old friend whom he hadn’t seen in over a
year. How was he to know that Jeremy’s cabin was being watched? Half an hour
after his arrival, several law-officers had barged into the cabin surprising
Jeremy, Brock and the other two gentlemen present. A fight had ensued with
Jeremy being killed, his other two guests escaping and Brock being arrested.
Asked if he was a homosexual too, Brock had glared down at the senior officer
and answered honestly before sneering, “And just what do you intend to do about
it, Shorty?” In retrospect, not the wisest query he’d ever made. His only
satisfaction was in it taking six men to defeat him. He smiled when he thought
of how worse for wear the men in uniform were by the time they managed to
subdue him and place him in custody.
He
turned and determinedly walked towards the wooded area behind him. Within
minutes, he lost sight of the beach.
Samuel Boyd
Samuel’s
hooded brown eyes had stared out at sea as the last boat slowly moved towards
the waiting ship, and reluctantly accepted that this was now his home. A gentle
man, he had lived a rather solitary life, having chosen to stay on his father’s
small claim and scratch a meager living panning for gold as opposed to
travelling and seeking his fortune. An avid reader, he believed his few books
to be a safe refuge. He had deep secrets which he kept close to his heart and
shared with no one. Most times he suppressed those feelings but he knew what he
wanted. He had at first questioned why his sexual preferences developed as they
did, but eventually became resigned to the fact that it was just meant to be.
It
had been a moment of sheer loneliness that led Samuel to offer work to a
down-on-his-luck passer-by in exchange for room and board. They had become
friends and he had enjoyed the male companionship, which was a new sensation in
his lonely life. But they were just friends, nothing more.
Unknown
to him, it was his remoteness that had people questioning his relationship with
his new companion. Those were hard times and many had little to do except
gossip. Men inclined to hunt out those they considered social misfits had set a
trap and Samuel found himself facing this unexpected new start in life. He
figured he had two choices; moan about the injustice of his life or survive. He
decided here and now to try a different approach in order to be part of this
budding community, starting with no more hiding as there was no longer a need
to do so. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward to offer what help he could.
Seth Ryan Edwards & Jordan
Kyle Adams
“So,
kid, what do you think of the place?” Seth asked sarcastically, not really giving
a damn.
“A
little too soon to tell,” Jordan quietly answered, shyly glancing around.
“Well,
I told your ma I’d keep an eye on you and as far as I’m concerned I’ve done my
duty, so you’re on your own from here on out.” Seth shook his head and rolled his
eyes in disgust. He’d been stuck with this tattered-looking, uncouth creature
for over a month now. Certainly hadn’t helped his image as a polished
man-about-town. The only redeeming characteristic the kid had was in being
quiet and staying out of his way.
Jordan’s
knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the cloth bag containing his
other change of clothing. That and what he had on his back was all he owned as
he had only been given room and board along with a few coins a month in
exchange for the kitchen duties he performed in the whorehouse where his mother
worked. His heart squeezed as he wondered what would become of her as she aged
and her prospects for earning a living dwindled. He wished Seth hadn’t
mentioned her. Jordan had succeeded in putting her plight out of his mind until now.
“I’m
sure you’ll find someone here willing to give you the time of day,” Seth
sneered, regaining the younger man’s attention. “In the meantime, keep an eye
on my belongings until I find out what I am supposed to do with them.” He
indicated his two fair-size suitcases, plus a smaller one and a sealed box
before heading down the beach to where a larger group of men had begun to
gather. He became totally oblivious to the forlorn, frightened young man he’d
left behind.
Jordan
fought back tears. It was the other man’s fault he was here in the first place.
Jordan had been infatuated with the smooth-talking gambler in the nice clothes
and as a result had been easily coerced into the man’s bed, where they had been
found and arrested. Although Jordan had no friends, he didn’t have any enemies
either. Unfortunately, Seth hadn’t lacked for the latter.
Brodie Joel Baker
Brodie’s
heart went out to the man who was looking totally lost. He figured Jordan to be
close to his own age. Standing nearby, he had been privy to the conversation
and the callous attitude displayed by Seth.
‘As
if anyone here would need any more cruelty,’ Brodie scoffed in disgust.
Shaking
his head, he made a quick decision. A few steps brought him to Jordan’s side
and Brodie softly requested some assistance. “Ah, I was wondering if you’d be
able to give me a hand. I could really use some help moving these bags of books
to higher ground.”
He
smiled when overly bright eyes turned his way and a head full of brown curls
vigorously nodded.
“I
was a librarian in my past life,” Brodie said lightly. “I may have overdone it
when they told me to help myself to a few of the old books stored in the
basement of the library.”
Nathan O’Sullivan
Nathan
O’Sullivan held his face up to the sky, closed his eyes and drew in a deep
breath. He felt the tension in his body drain away as the warmth of the sun
kissed his face. Maybe things here wouldn’t be as bad as he feared if he kept
an open mind. They certainly couldn’t be much worse than the past year.
After
spending several difficult, time-consuming years building up a substantial
clientele, his business partner had suddenly turned on him. Jealous, Bruce had
decided the quickest way to have the company all to himself was to dispose of
Nathan and he accomplished that by first turning him in and then testifying
against him. Nathan smiled at the thought of the unpleasant surprise Bruce
would be in for. The business would never belong to his ex-partner, as Nathan’s
uncle owned what had always been thought of as Nathan’s fifty-one percent.
He
opened his eyes and glanced around at the people milling about the beach. Some
were dressed reasonably well, others not as well, and two or three in desperate
need of even the essentials. He smiled and bent to run his fingers lightly
across the top of the steamer trunk by his side; the contents having been
provided by his uncle. A designer of men’s clothing and a tailor by trade,
Nathan would now apply his talents to providing serviceable apparel for these
men he’d be spending the rest of his life with.
Gille Wheaton
Gille
clutched his satchel tightly as he surveyed the men he’d been abandoned with.
His boots were split at the soles and his battered case which held his meager
belongings was tied up with twine. Life had not been kind to Gille. Born the
son of immigrant farm workers, his father had died in a farming accident when Gille
was only ten and his mother a mere two years later from pneumonia. The lad had
survived by his wits, taking whatever odd jobs he could find over the last ten
years.
At
the ripe age of twenty-two; cold, hungry and desperate, he had attempted to
sell himself for a meal. He had thought he had picked his target carefully.
After all, hadn’t the man actually smiled at him? But as was his predictable misfortune, he had
chosen to offer his sexual services to the police chief. He was charged with
perversion and sent to this god-forsaken place, but not before the lawman had
taken his pleasure from Gille. Of course the police chief had laughed off
Gille’s accusation that the man had sexually used him.
What
Gille did not know, was just how tempted the Chief had been to keep him. When
he had spied Gille on the street, he had wanted him. Gille had no realization
of his own beauty; his pale blond hair and clear blue eyes only accentuated his
handsome features. At five-foot-eight with a lithe build, he turned heads
wherever he went. It was a hard struggle, but in the end the Chief decided to
stay on the right side of the law and Gille found himself on board a ship.
So
here he was, alone as usual with little hope in his heart. For a few moments he
contemplated curling up and dying, but if Gille was nothing else, he was a
survivor. A naturally optimistic temperament and the command of youth made him
stand a little taller. He stomped across the beach, feeling the sand seeping
into his boots and determination filling his soul.
Dallas Carter
Dallas
looked around and shuddered. Aside from the clothes on his back, he had only a small
bag dangling from one hand that contained all his worldly goods, paltry as they
were. He was a city boy and all this nature left him cold. His black hair was
medium length and needed a cut; his blue eyes cold as he studied his fellow
exiles. None of them attracted him as a potential lover or even as a quick
tryst. But then again, maybe none of them would find him attractive either. He
was in truth, a bisexual. His female lover had walked in on him with another
man and understandably, had become very irate. Unfortunately, she had also
considered it her duty to report them and two days later he found himself
aboard the ship.
‘What
had she thought?’ Dallas wondered for the hundredth time. ‘That she was my one
and only?’ he snorted cynically. ‘I always have a least two people in my life.’
Dallas
had just turned nineteen and had packed a world of living into those few years. His mother had left him and his father when Dallas was ten. His father
had kicked him out at fourteen when his sexual preferences became apparent and
from then on he’d carved out a life on the streets. He’d walked the edge of
petty crime; anything from muggings, break-ins, or pick-pocketing, and when
things got really tight, prostitution with women only. He had along the way,
become addicted to morphine and had barely managed to ration out what little amount
he had on him when arrested. He’d used the last of it two days ago but had then been successful in stealing a couple of vials while on board the ship.
He
glanced furtively around, weighing his chances of finding an additional supply from among
those crates. Hopefully there would be enough that people wouldn’t realize if a
few vials went missing. He wasn’t overly optimistic. He shrugged; withdrawal
wasn’t fun but he’d done it before. It was a miracle he hadn’t been more deeply
involved with the law. It was ironic that his sexual preference had been his
downfall. He wondered how he’d manage here without women, as all the men around
him were homosexuals. He wasn’t though. He just liked men now and again for a
change, but never, that is almost never, bottomed. He was always the one in
control, or so he thought.
He
saw a movement out the corner of his eye and nervously moved closer to the
group of men who seemed to be taking control.
Kelby Curtis
Although
not quite twenty-three, Kelby was unsure if he should be terrified or relieved
at having arrived here safely. He had been shocked when his own father had
turned him in to the authorities after discovering him in the arms of another
man.
Kelby
had been training to follow in his father’s footsteps and be a banker, but
planned to keep that information to himself as he had never felt an interest in
the profession, even though he did have an aptitude for numbers. Being a lover
of books and studying, he had always secretly aspired to become a researcher,
writer and someday a professor. He sadly accepted that this dream if his was one
more thing never meant to be.
Kelby
strived not to dwell on thoughts of his loss. Instead he stepped forward to
pitch in and do his part, even though he was unsure of what exactly he could do
or even if he had the strength to be of much help to anyone.
Hendrik Van Der Berg
‘God,
but it feels good to have solid land under my feet again,’ Hendrik thought with
a loud groan. ‘Fifteen days on that filthy ship was fourteen and a half too
many!’
Hendrik
was a land-lover, not a seaman. He loved the scent of horses, cattle and the
range; not fish, damp dark places and salt water. At the age of twenty-six, he
had been contented with his life as the right-hand man to the ranch foreman. He
and Eric had thought they had the camp to themselves that night, but such was
not the case and their carelessness had led to their arrest. A suspicious
accident aboard ship had resulted in Eric’s death. Hendrik still did not
believe his lover had fallen overboard; at least not without help.
Resigning
himself to making the best of a bad situation, Hendrik pushed his Stetson back
on his forehead and picked up his saddlebags and scruffy valise. He slowly
sauntered towards the two young men who seemed bent on moving as many personal
items as possible from the beach area to higher ground.
Mitchell Wolfe
Mitchell
stared out at the horizon for several long minutes even though the ship was no
longer visible. He sighed gratefully as his coffee-colored eyes filled and he
gave a silent prayer of thanks. While some may consider their exile not much
better than prison, he experienced a strange exhilarating sense of freedom. A son
of former slaves, his perception of his present situation differed greatly from
those with a different background. He felt a sense of peace being here among his fellowmen, as an equal and having shared the same dark secrets.
Several
weeks ago, he and his life-partner had acted imprudently and it had led to
their seizure and imprisonment. Mitchell still questioned the validity of the
story that Byron had committed suicide. He had mourned Byron’s death during the
entire journey and knew he would do so for some time to come.
Deeply
breathing in the salty sea air, Mitchell stooped to pick up the well-worn
leather bag at his feet, turned and with head held high, made his way over to
the group of men gathered around the crates. He was only twenty-eight years
old, at the prime of his life. He would make this work. His knowledge of
carpentry would be very much in demand here and it was here that life for him
would finally begin.
Preston Chadwick
Preston
dropped his suitcase on the ground. Tied to the side of it were a large ax and
a long, doubled-handed saw. He gazed around his new home and nodded in
satisfaction at what he saw. He had suffered his way through his trial and
sentencing, saying little in his own defense, perfectly aware that nothing he
said would have vindicated him. Although he would dearly miss a couple of
really good friends, at least he’d left no loved-ones behind, having long ago
lost the last of his family members. Here he would do what he excelled at; cut
down trees to provide lumber for the living quarters that would be needed.
Kevin McCaw
Kevin
loved nature. He was the oldest son of a couple who had left everything they
had known in England to settle in New Zealand. His first memory was sleeping
under canvas while their house was being built. His second was watching his
father build a cradle for one of his brothers. By the age of six, he was
setting snares to catch rabbits, wood pigeons and possums to supplement the
family meals. Visits to town were rare and avoided at all costs until at age
twelve when he was shipped off to boarding school.
The
only thing that had made being so far away from home bearable to Kevin was the
still new-fangled sport of rugby at which he excelled. He was horribly homesick
and what made it worse, he'd slowly realized his feelings for the other boys went
deeper than mate-ship. He covered up the sensations by joining in the bawdy
jokes and whisperings about girls in town. His family was very proud when he
was selected in the Rugby Union team that was going to tour the country. After
a hugely successful circuit, Kevin decided to travel some more before returning
home. It was during this time that the deeply suppressed feelings re-emerged
and despite the risks, he started to explore the lifestyle. He was arrested
during a raid at a suspected gentlemen’s club and sentenced along with a number of other men to a life of exile.
Kevin
had short blond hair which had a distressing tendency to curl. He devoutly
hoped someone had packed scissors as the one case on the ground next to him
carried only the basic items he needed to make travelling easy.
He
silently pledged to himself to work hard with the others as they all made a new
life for themselves. Moving towards the group gathering around some of the
larger crates, he nodded his head to acknowledge several of them. Maybe, if
good fortune smiled on him, he’d someday even find himself a partner.
************
This concludes the
introductions, but their story is only now beginning.
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