“Thank you for letting me stay overnight. I didn’t feel quite the same way as last time when you practically threw me out the window after you fucked me. Thanks for that,” Scott said with a smile.
“I’m sorry you took it that way, Scott. You wanted it rough and hard, and that was part of the scene I thought you’d like,” Alex lied.
“Oh, I see. Well, that was a great time, just like last night. I kinda wish you weren’t going to be moving to Washington. Nobody fucks ass like you do.”
After Scott left, Alex dialed the number in Washington that would connect him with Lieutenant Codwell. As he waited, he was highly aware that this call was the start of his career in law enforcement.
The call was picked up on the other end. “Lieutenant Codwell.”
“Sir, this is Alex Winston. Thank you for the formal offer of a position. What should my first step be?”
“Well, you’ve got two weeks to find a place to live. I put a card with your number in Jersey up on the bulletin board yesterday. I suggest you let that work for a couple days, and if you don’t get any calls, I suggest you come back to DC and work with one of the local companies that will help you find an apartment on Capitol Hill. But don’t forget what I said: rent is expensive on your own.”
“Okay, sir, I’ll wait a few days for any response to the card, and then I’ll head down. When do I leave for the training center?”
“They have a class starting in three weeks, which is why I’m pushing to get stuff done. You’ll have a week to get your uniforms and various administrative details out of the way as well as begin to learn the layout of the Hill. There are more tunnels under this place than you’d imagine, and you need to learn the entire complex.”
“Yes, sir. On the day I report, where should I report?”
“Personnel. They’ll in-process you and issue you your police identification and your badge after you’re sworn in. From there, the process will kick in, and you’ll have everything you need by the end of the morning. At lunchtime, you’ll be allowed to take some of the uniforms home with you to store and then return. The first week, you will not be issued a weapon. You have to qualify on the Sig Sauer that’s standard issue for us before you can legally carry it.”
“Okay, sir, that’s all I have for now.”
“Very well. I hope one of the guys will need a roommate.”
J
UST
before Alex was going to pack for a couple of days and leave for Washington, the phone rang. It was a young police officer on Capitol Hill who had just lost a roommate to marriage. He had an open bedroom for rent in a five-bedroom town house. Alex snapped it up, got all the address information, and sent down a deposit check to his new roommate.
Alex was elated. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Everything had come together for the ex-Marine in just over four weeks. During the rest of his time in New Jersey, he spent many evenings with his elderly parents, saw Scott a couple of more times, along with another guy he used to date. On a bright Saturday morning, two days before he was due to report for duty, he left New Jersey and moved to the nation’s capital.
He got settled into his new home—which he loved—met the roommates, all of whom seemed pretty decent, and set up his new bedroom. He spent the rest of the weekend talking with his roommates and absorbing as much information as he could on what to expect both on the Hill and at Glynco. The guys worked different shifts, so there was always someone going and coming.
M
ONDAY
morning arrived, and Alex Winston reported for duty at the personnel office. There, he began his journey of becoming a member of an elite police department. Everything unfolded as predicted by Lieutenant Codwell, and before Alex knew it, he was on a plane to Georgia to begin his training.
The training at the center wasn’t much of a challenge for Alex after his service in the Marines. He scored a one hundred on every weapon that he was required to qualify with and aced his courses in law enforcement techniques and law. He graduated number one in his class and then flew back home to Washington. He was given twenty-four hours off and then followed orders to report to the FBI training facility in Quantico. There, he underwent SWAT training, which introduced him to new weapons with which he scored a solid one hundred once more. When his training was finished, he received certification as a federal law enforcement SWAT member, and Lieutenant Codwell had the well-trained killing machine that he wanted.
Alex was assigned to a sergeant and a shift and began his duties of protecting members of Congress, other dignitaries, and the general public against any possible threat. On days when the president was slated to visit the Hill, Alex was placed up on the roof of the Capitol dome along with fellow SWAT team members in order to continuously survey the assigned field of fire for any threat to the commander in chief.
Officer Alex Winston’s career was well underway, and he excelled at every job given to him, to the extent that his roommates constantly made wisecracks to him about being the Capitol’s “super cop.” They teased him a lot, but they supported his rise through the ranks.
After one such bout of talk, Alex replied, “You’re all jealous because you can’t match the degree of competence I’ve achieved in the service of our country. You only wish you could be as good as I am. If you like, I can mentor you one at a time. Any takers?”
Sofa pillows and other soft objects sailed through the air at Alex. He swatted most away but got nailed by a couple of the pillows. In truth, his buddies had a great deal of respect for the newest member of their house. They knew no one was giving him anything that he hadn’t earned in the Capitol Police.
I
N
M
ERRIMACK
, Clay Anderson was excelling in his field as well. He quickly learned all the operations of the library and went to meetings for Miss Clark when she was unavailable because of illness or vacation. In this way, Clayton became known to the county board and others that had influence over the library system.
One morning, Clayton’s phone rang at an unexpected time.
“Good morning, this is Mr. Anderson.”
“Clay, can you come see me please?” Miss Clark asked.
“Of course, I’ll be right there,” he replied.
As always he checked his appearance in the mirror before leaving and going to Miss Clark’s office. He knocked on the door, entered, and was pointed to the usual chair.
“I have some news for you this morning that could be good or bad, depending on how you view it. I’ve been transferred to take over the Barrington branch library, and that of course leaves the head librarian’s position here vacant. I’ve recommended you as my replacement.”
“Oh! This is so unexpected. I’m sorry to hear that you’re leaving us! It won’t be the same around here without you,” Clayton replied.
“Now, simply because I recommended you doesn’t mean you’ll automatically get the job. You’ll have to apply, and there will be interviews, but I can’t honestly believe that there is anyone around here more qualified for the position than you are.”
“When are you leaving?”
“In one week. In fact, this is my last week here. When you go back to your office, fill out an application for the position and fax it over to personnel. You’ll be named acting head librarian until the position is filled permanently, which gives you another advantage. You’ve done a marvelous job here, and you deserve the promotion.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what to say! This is all so sudden, and I hope I’m up to the task,” Clayton said.
“Oh, stop the false modesty. You know this place like the back of your hand. Now, I suggest you get back to your office and fill out that application. The announcement for the vacancy comes out today,” she said, smiling.
Clayton rose and asked, “May I give you a hug for all your kindness toward me?”
Miss Clark rose and walked around her desk, and she and Clayton embraced. He left her office and went back to his own with his mind racing over the possibility that he would get the job. It meant a new status as well as a decent pay raise. Maybe his chosen degree was finally paying off.
After he retrieved a standard county application form from his now full filing cabinet, he worked on it for the next half hour. When he had finished it, he read it over, and when he was satisfied, made a copy and faxed the application to personnel. They called a short time later, acknowledging that they had received the application.
The rest of the week went quickly, and as expected, Clayton received the appointment as acting head librarian for his branch. On Friday, the library staff took Elizabeth Clark out to lunch, and they said their good-byes.
Monday morning, when Clayton reported for work, he was the boss, even though it was temporary. He couldn’t hire anyone to take his position, because it wasn’t officially open, so he had to do both jobs until a permanent replacement was named.
Finally, the job interviews took place, and Clayton was selected as the new head librarian of the Merrimack library. His hard work both in school and since coming to the library had paid off, and he’d reached the top of his career field, which was everything he wanted. At least, that was what he thought he wanted at that time in his life.
Over the years, Clay became less and less satisfied with his work and personal life. While he performed the duties of his position with perfection and routinely achieved accolades from his bosses, he knew that something inside of him wanted more. He was starting to think that “institutional” library science wasn’t really where his heart lay. Since he was getting older now, he began to think about alternatives to earning a living.
A
LEX
was promoted all the way to captain when he retired in his late forties, just as he had planned. As an added bonus, his military service was tacked onto his civilian service, which significantly increased the size of his pension. Like so many others in various aspects of his career field, he’d thrown himself into his work, which left little time for a personal life. His life became the lives of the men and women who served the nation as elected representatives. When he put his papers in, the police force was shocked. They were aware that they were losing one of their top leaders, and they tried various incentives to get Alex to stay—all of which failed.
On his final workday, he was brought to the floor of the House where his retirement was announced to a standing ovation. Most of the Congressmen and women knew of Captain Winston because he seemed to be everywhere at once when on duty. He kept a keen eye on his officers as well as the members of the legislature and the public.
He had long ago bought a town house on Capitol Hill that had nearly doubled in value since its purchase. Alex’s realtor was gay, and they frequently had sex, so of course he got the chance to sell the town house and make a sizable commission.
“Sam, how much are we going to put this ole place on the market for anyway?” Alex asked his friend as they discussed the sale.
“Going with the comparisons in the neighborhood and the top condition you’ve kept this place in, I’d say we set the price at $750,000. Even then, I think we’re being a little generous, but the place will sell faster if you keep it below eight hundred.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Seven fifty? Holy hell, that’s fantastic! I had no idea it had risen to that level in value. How long will it take to move the house?”
“Well, if we sign the paperwork today, I’ll hold an open house this Sunday. I’d hope to sell within a month at most. Does that fit with your plans?” Sam asked.
“Hell, I don’t even know what my plans are yet, but yeah, that sounds good. I guess I need to come up with a new home!”
“Are you staying in DC, I hope?”
“No. I need to get out of this city. The crime rate is rising, and I’m bone tired of politics. I have to think about it, but I want someplace with a much slower pace of life. Let’s sign the contract and get going on this,” Alex said.
A
LEX
’
S
long streak of good luck continued, and his town house sold during the very first open house. The housing market was strong in the nineties, and Alex even had a bidding war on his place. The final sale price was $785,000. Sam made a six percent commission, closing was set for three weeks from the date of sale, and everyone came out of the deal happy.
The night of the signing, Alex sat down with Sam after dinner with an open bottle of wine and looked at a map.
“Do you at least know what part of the country you wanna live in?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, kinda. I’ve always felt more comfortable on the East Coast, so I wanna stay along here,” Alex said as he dragged his finger down the right side of the map of the United States. “Florida is too humid in the summer, and I’ve had enough of that here in DC to last me ’til the end. I think I wanna live near or at the beach.”
“Well, how about the gay beach towns? You got Provincetown, Massachusetts, and Atlantic City—but that is a lousy place to live now with the casinos. Oh, you have Rehoboth Beach in Delaware, a couple of really small spots along the Virginia coastline where Norfolk Naval Base is with all those sailor boys. Do any of those towns interest you?”
“Yeah, actually. I went to Rehoboth Beach a few times over the last decade with some friends and really like it. In the summer, it’s full of gay men and great restaurants, and it even has a gay beach. It quiets down for the winter months. Most of the hot spots close for the season, but a few of the restaurants stay open for the locals, and it’s within driving distance of the District, Philadelphia, and Jersey. Now that my parents are both gone, there’s really nothing much to bring me back to Jersey… but it’s still home.”
“Let me give you the name and number of a gay agent in Rehoboth who will be happy to help you. With what you’re getting for this place, you can pay cash for almost anything you could want at the beach.”