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I watched the carnival wagons until they were out of sight, until even the dust of their passage had settled back to the dry fields. I might have watched the empty horizon until night fell if it hadn't been for my sister, Sally, coming out to take my hand.

"Come on, Lucas, it's past chore time," she said as she pulled. When I didn't move, she spoke again: "Mr. Caldwell will be back. He told you so, didn't he? It's only one more year."

I sighed and turned to go with her. Only a year? When you're not yet seventeen years old and the man you love is moving away from you as fast as a team of horses can take him, and all you have is hope that he will return as he promised in a year's time…. I did my best to put my worries away.

I had the carnival's itinerary and began my first letter that very night. I longed to hear his voice, but this was my best hope of long-distance communication. In 1916, the telephone was still considered a newfangled contraption, especially in rural areas like ours, and no one, not even the owner of the local general store, could afford one.

Time went on, and at first Thomas's letters came to me regularly, once a week. They were nice letters, mostly about where the carnival was camped and how good the house was for the big show of "Caldwell's Wonders"-not nearly personal enough to suit me and never "sealed with a kiss." I wrote back similar everyday things, like how Sally and her beau, Jed, got officially engaged in November, on her fifteenth birthday, and how their wedding was planned for next June.

Miss Hattie, the carnival fortune teller, continued to write too, and it was easier to see Thomas through her eyes. She claimed he smiled more than usual and didn't yell at the roustabouts nearly as often as in past years, and she always claimed to be puzzled by it. Hattie had her own peculiar sense of humor.

I truly hoped she was right, and that Thomas was happier, thinking about when we would be together.

But after a while, things changed. Thomas's letters would skip a week, though at first the next one would be a little longer to make up for it. Then the letters dropped to two a month. After a time, there were none at all - from Thomas or Hattie.

In a month's time I was almost sick with worry. Sister Sally was full of reassurance about how Thomas was probably busy doing repairs, getting ready for the next season, and so on. I tried to believe her and take comfort from what she said, but Sally had her own concerns, what with wedding plans to make, and if I could have thought of a way to get to Florida during that dark and lonely winter, I would have tried.

I still believed Thomas meant to come back for me. After all, he'd promised. But what if something had happened to him? How would I ever know?

Spring came again, and I had less time to worry while trying to keep up with farm work and finish my schoolwork as well, as this would be my last year, though I couldn't say I'd miss it. Now and then Mama would drop a hint about my being good enough to teach school, but I tried my best to ignore those comments. I knew in my heart that if there was no word soon, I would leave to find Caldwell's Wonders on my own, whatever anyone might think. I was seventeen now, and a man.

Then suddenly, at the end of March, I got two months' worth of letters all at once. Somewhere between New York state and Florida, the winter had been bad enough to halt the US Mail. I spent an entire afternoon reading every one of them over and over, when Sally and brother Nate kindly offered to do my chores, unbeknownst to Mama. I slept well that night.

* * *

Sally and Jed were married on the first Sunday in June. Mama and Sally had kept their heads in sewing books and their hands busy every minute of their spare time since before the engagement party, and Sally was beautiful in a dress of beige delaine decorated with lace and embroidered flowers. It wasn't near as delicate as the high-society bride dresses we sometimes saw in the newspaper, but Sally was a practical country girl and said she didn't want anything so fancy she could never wear it but once.

I thought Jed looked like a fish out of water in his new suit and high, stiff collar. I was glad when Papa said my regular Sunday shirt and pants would be good enough for the service.

I was glad for Sally too, but the house seemed strange without her in it, and even though she visited, she seemed more like company than family now. When she did come to visit, she most often sat with Mama, chattering about recipes and sewing, and we never seemed to have time for the intimate talks she and I used to enjoy. I wanted to ask Sally about her wedding night and the nights that came after, but looking at her, a grown up woman now and no longer just my little sister, I found myself too shy.

Back to a letter a week from Thomas, the hot, busy summer passed quickly. The letters were always cheerful and full of news about the carnival, but I longed for something more personal - to hear that he missed me as much as I missed him. Still, I was never too tired at night to think of him and wonder where he was and if he was thinking of me.

I was in school that fall afternoon when Caldwell's Wonders finally rolled back into town. I hadn't wanted to be in town, but Papa had said that since it was to be my last day, I should go and get the certificate of completion the teacher had ordered and say goodbye to her and my classmates.

I'd done all that by three thirty and was headed back home when Karl Larsen and his cronies came down the street.

"Hey, Lulu, I hear you're joining the circus to be with the other freaks," he called out to me. The boys with him laughed. Damn, I hated that nickname.

Though they were all about my age, none of that bunch went to school any more, hadn't for years, and this was not the first time Karl and his gang had taunted me about one thing or another. Though most times I wanted nothing more than to feel my fist against his freckled nose and see his blood dripping in the dirt, red as his hair, I just kept walking. Mama didn't hold with fighting, no matter what the provocation, and Papa let her word stand on the subject, even though I was almost certain he shared my frustrations.

Slim Jorgensen, another loudmouth, spoke up: "My daddy won't let me go to the carnival this year-says he heard the man who runs it is a sod-o-mite."

From their vacant expressions, I think most of the other boys were puzzled as to the meaning of that word, and Slim looked real proud of himself just for knowing it. I knew the word too, though, and I stopped in my tracks, a sudden ringing in my ears and a red haze beginning to cloud my vision. I'd grown used to their teasing, even about my love for carnivals, and they could say what they wanted about me, but none of them were fit to speak a word about Thomas. I dropped my schoolbooks in the dust.

"Slim," I called. "You want to come over here and say that again?"

The pale eyebrows on his narrow face climbed for his hairline. Slim was like his nickname, thin and without a single muscle to be seen on his stringy frame. His face went a shade paler-out of surprise maybe. It had been a long time since I'd spoken back to their remarks.

"Sure, Lulu," Karl answered with a sneer, shoving Slim along in front of him, "we'll all come over for a talk, won't we, boys?"

About that time, the door to the town hall opened and a figure strolled down the wooden steps. Tall and decked out in a gray top hat over his silvery white hair with a bright red vest under his gray suit, his mustache and goatee a brilliant white as well, I knew him at once. "Well, Master Lucas, won't you introduce me to your friends?" said the Professor.

I was kind of glad to see him right then. Slim wasn't much, and Karl not much better, but there were three other boys too. Papa couldn't countenance fighting, but he always said five to one wasn't good odds.

The well-dressed gentleman walked over to me, and the boys backed off without another word. "Guess they don't have good manners," I said, as they silently vanished down an alley between two buildings. I stuck out my hand. "Hello, Professor."

Thomas had told me that wasn't this man's real name, but the Professor insisted I call him that, even though it didn't quite seem respectful. "Everyone does, dear boy."

He gave me a ride back to the farm in the brightly painted carnival buggy. "I assume we'll be seeing you later this evening," he said as I climbed down from the high seat and gathered my belongings.

"Yes, sir. As soon as I finish my chores."

He glanced toward the house. "If it would be all right with your mother, I imagine we could manage to feed you supper tonight," he said, a twinkle in his eye.

My heart began to speed up. "Do you really think so?" He nodded, and I ran for the house. "Mama!"

Supper was a chicken, spit roasted over an open fire. Me and Thomas sat together on one bench to eat, and the Professor shared his bench with Miss Hattie. I was almost hungry enough to think more about the food than Thomas, but not quite.

I'd wanted to run to Thomas the first moment I saw him and throw my arms around him, the way I'd seen Chris's wife, Elvira, do when he came back home from a trip, but I knew Thomas wouldn't like such a public display, so I just smiled a lot. It warmed my heart when he smiled back. I'd done my chores on the farm as well as walking to school, and now I'd helped set up the carnival, but I wasn't at all tired… not sitting on the same bench as Thomas. He looked even more wonderful than I remembered. I couldn't help but turn to look at him while we ate, and I was almost certain he cast me a sidelong glance now and then as well.

After a while the Professor and Hattie left, and we were alone-well, as alone as we could be, surrounded by hard-working carnies on all sides.

"It was a long year, sir," I said, as we both watched Gabriel exercise the big cats, restless from their travel and confinement.

He sighed. "It was indeed… and a lonely one." He turned to look at me. "Have you been keeping busy while I've been gone?"

"Oh, I wrote you all about that… but I was never too busy to think of you."

Thomas nodded indulgently. Then a look of concern crossed his face. "I don't suppose you had any sort of… companionship during that time?"

I blinked, not quite sure what he was asking. "No, sir." At least I didn't think so. "Why do you ask?"

He lifted a hand and smoothed the palm over my cheek. It made shivers run up and down my back. "Because, my dear, you're beautiful."

I laughed in spite of all the other feelings coursing through me from that one touch. Everyone knew boys weren't beautiful.

He was still looking at me, lower lip pouted in a frown, his eyes too serious. "You're still certain…?"

"Thomas… sir… I've waited for three years to be with you. I ain't going to change my mind now."

He allowed himself a small smile. "I hoped you might feel that way."

I touched his arm and spoke quietly, knowing there were some who probably strained to hear our conversation. "I still want to go with you, and I want us to be… together." I felt heat rise to my face.

He smiled again, a teasing kind of smile. "But not tonight?"

I sighed. "No, Papa says I have to stay at home until the carnival is over and ready to leave." The thought of another two weeks of waiting was almost more than I could bear. But I had a feeling that Mama and Papa just couldn't stand the idea of me being alone at night with Thomas in his wagon while we were still so close to home.

* * *

So I spent every moment I could at the carnival, helping in every way they would let me, as I had every year. Thomas and I weren't alone much. He had a million duties that kept him busy. I went home every night to the bed I shared with my brother, but knowing Thomas was so close by made my desire for him even more urgent.

My younger brother Nate always slept soundly, but I never felt I could indulge my feelings while in bed with him. I tried not to think about such things when I could manage it, but I'd found out that if I didn't relieve myself now and again, the feelings would come in my dreams. Then I'd have to hurry out of bed in the morning and hide my soiled underwear before anyone could see them-which wasn't easy, since I knew Mama inspected every article before it went into the wash. These days I found it even more necessary to steal a few minutes alone behind the barn or in the fields.

If all the seed I planted there, touching myself while thoughts of Thomas swirled through my head, had flourished in the fertile earth, there would have been a large and strange crop ready for harvest come fall.

* * *

Finally, the weeks had passed and it was the last day. The carnival would leave at dawn, and I would be beside Thomas on the seat of his wagon. It was Sunday, and Mama planned a big farewell dinner for me after church. Sally and Jed were invited, of course, which was good, because I hadn't seen much of her lately. I guessed she liked playing house with Jed in their new home.

I knew I would miss my family, and Mama's eyes had been red for days, though she never let me see her cry, but I couldn't be sad to go. I'd waited too long to be with Thomas, and I was too excited to be anything but happy.

I couldn't believe it when the Professor drove up in the carriage that afternoon with Thomas by his side. Without thinking, I leaped off the porch. "What are you doing here?" I asked, mouth hanging open.

Thomas smiled indulgently. "We were invited," he said. And there was Mama behind me, her hand held out in welcome. Thomas took her hand and shook it politely, but the Professor bowed low and kissed it. I didn't remember ever seeing Mama blush before.

We had a very civilized dinner, with no mention of anything more than farming and carnival business, nothing about personal feelings. If someone hadn't known better, they might have thought I was leaving only to be Thomas's apprentice.

After pie and coffee, the two men left us. Thomas didn't take my hand, but the look in his eyes was enough to warm me to my toes. Then I went inside to put the finishing details on my packing.

"I'll miss you, Lucas." Eleven-year-old Nathaniel was doing his best to look properly sorry at my departure. "But I get my own bed now!" he finished, unable to hide his pleasure.

I ruffled his dark curls. "I know you do, buddy. You take good care of it when I'm gone, you hear? No more frogs."

He giggled. Neither of us had ever told Mama.

Chris came in then. "All packed, little brother?"

I looked around. I was only taking my clothes and a few books. Them and my old guitar and the concertina I'd traded one of my roosters for last fall. If I got the urge to play piano, there was always the calliope. I nodded.

Chris looked over the few bags and bundles, then turned and walked out onto the side porch, leaning on the rail and looking off into the dusk and the harvested fields to the east. I knew the roustabouts were working to pack up the carnival down that way, though it was too far to see even the tallest flag from here. "We'll all miss you, you know," Chris said, "especially Sally and Nate."

I leaned next to him. "Sally's married now, and Nate will have his own bed," I said.

"With all the frogs he wants," Chris added. I grinned.

"I know I'm going to miss all of you too, but…." I unfocused my eyes until I could see the carnival in my head, with Thomas standing tall on the midway. "…I need to be with him, Chris."

He nodded. "Can't say as I understand that."

I turned to him with questioning eyes.

"I know, I know, he's a good man and all, even Papa says that, but… why him, Lucas? Why a man? Why not find a nice girl and settle here in town? Don't you want children someday? You know how happy that would make Mama."

My eyes had always been gray. Chris's were blue like Papa's and Mama's. I could see the honest puzzlement in them, and I wished I could make him understand.

"Mama has you and 'Vira and little Joanne and Michael, Chris." They lived in their own house on Papa's farm, and I knew Chris would take over the whole farm one day, when it came time for Papa to retire. "And before long, Sally will have a youngster or two herself. That will keep Mama happy."

Chris smiled sadly, and when he spoke it was almost in a whisper. "I know Mama and Papa love all of us, Lucas, but you know you've always been special to Mama - her favorite."

I flushed a little. I'd wondered sometimes, but always hoped it wasn't true. "I'm sorry, Chris," I said, feeling oddly guilty.

"Pshaw, it's nothing you did. Folks can't help how they feel, can they?" He started suddenly, as though he'd just realized what he'd said. "Well then, I guess even if you can't help how you feel about him, you know how hard it could be for you and him together, don't you? Some folks judge harshly what they can't understand."

I shook my head. "Chris, what if someone told you that you couldn't love Elvira, couldn't be with her? That you had to choose someone they approved of instead? Would you let it stop you and spend your whole life not living the way your heart told you was right?"

Chris sighed. "You put it that way, I can't argue." He stepped closer and draped an arm across my shoulders. "Just take care, little brother, all right? And be happy." He squeezed a little and reached up to ruffle my hair like he always had, then stepped away and went to load the wagon.

* * *

Mama was up before first light next morning, but I couldn't eat the biscuits and ham she put on my plate. In fact, I could scarcely sit still. I jumped when Papa came in from hitching his team to the wagon that held my belongings.

Mama threw up her hands. "Mercy on us, Papa. You may as well go on." I watched as she wrapped several biscuit sandwiches in one of her linen napkins and thrust them in a basket. "The boy has left us already."

I bridled a bit at being called a boy, but one look at Mama and I saw how her eyes glistened. Taking up the basket, I threw the other arm around her shoulders and kissed her moist cheek. "I love you, Mama," I whispered, then walked out to the wagon as quickly as I could. I was glad to be going, but I was leaving behind all the family I'd ever known.

After a bit, Papa climbed up beside me, took up the reins, and clucked to the team.

Thomas's team was harnessed, the wagon ready, once my bundles were placed inside. Neither Papa nor Thomas spoke much, and I thought I might choke on the silence. Finally Papa stuck out his hand. "Mr. Caldwell," he said, "I'm trusting you to take care of my boy."

Thomas nodded solemnly, they shook, and Papa placed a hand on my shoulder. "Write your mother, Lucas," he said. And with a squeeze of his strong hand, he turned and climbed back in the wagon. He was almost out of sight when I swallowed hard and said, "I will, Papa."

* * *

The carnival had traveled all day, me sitting on the high seat next to Thomas, and it was night at last. Camp was made and supper was eaten, even though I couldn't eat much - I was too excited.

The first thing I'd done after we stopped, as soon as I had a free moment, was to creep off into the trees with soap and a bucket of water. It was Monday, not Saturday, but I wanted to rinse off the sweat and be as fresh as I could for Thomas.

When true darkness fell, people started drifting away from the fires toward their tents and caravans. Miss Hattie waved and called a cheery good-night. I think she winked at me, but I couldn't be sure.

Thomas sat outside on a camp stool, sipping a cup of coffee, but I couldn't stay still. By the time I'd washed every dish and put them away, I was sure all the other carnies had gone to sleep. After that I had nothing to do but fidget. Thomas ignored me.

At last he stood up and tossed the remains of his coffee onto the smoldering fire. "Guess it's that time," he said, standing and stretching backward until his spine cracked. He almost behaved as though I wasn't there, walking slowly toward the door of the caravan, not seeming to notice that I followed. Inside, he stood while I closed the door and latched it.

The lantern was lit and hung over the table, and the mellow light warmed the room. I eased past him, taking the cup from his hand, and went to the sink to rinse and dry it. I could feel his eyes on me, and when I was finished, he spoke: "Lucas, have you, um… been with others?"

By now I'd figured out what he meant. I turned to him. "No, sir," I said, and my face heated up a little.

He cleared his throat. "What I mean is, have you had… um… experiences… of a… um… carnal nature… with other boys?"

This time I shook my head. "No, sir." I couldn't even imagine wanting that with any of the boys I knew. I was friendly with a few and not so friendly with others, but none of them were like Thomas. He was the only one for me; I'd decided that the first time I saw him.

He looked up. "Men, then?" he asked.

"No, sir," I said again, slightly insulted this time.

He clamped his lips shut and all but threw himself onto one of the benches at the table. "Then you have no idea what I want from you…."

I reached out and put a hand on his arm, then sat down across from him. "'Course I know," I said, and I couldn't stop a little smile from creeping onto my face. "I been on a farm all my life, and every year I've seen the stallion with the mares and the rams with the ewes, not to mention when Papa lets the bull in with the cows." He looked down at my hand and then up into my eyes. "It can't be so different for us, can it?" I asked.

He smiled then. "I suppose not, my dear, except perhaps for one thing."

I saw him reach into a cabinet and take out a little jar like the one in which my mother kept goose grease. My eyes widened, and I felt the blush rising to the roots of my hair.

Shaking his head, he took my hand in his, rose up and pulled me to him until we were touching all down the front, eyes fixed on each other. He chuckled. "I had no idea you'd grown so much in the past year." He reached up to flatten a palm on top of my head. "There, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't have an inch or so on me already."

He ruffled my hair as though I were a child, then took my hand and drew me toward the front of the caravan where the curtain across the bed had been tied back. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and patted his thigh, encouraging me to sit there. I did, my knees pressing his legs apart, and he put both arms around me. "Lucas," he sighed, "you smell so good." He pulled my head down and rubbed his face against my hair. "And you feel good too."

I wanted to touch him back, but I was mesmerized by the rumble of his voice and the warmth of his strong arms enclosing me.

"I wish," he said, lips against my neck, "that I were young again, like you, and we could learn all about the world together. I wish I were not a jaded old man who-"

This time I sat up and placed two fingers over his mouth. "If you were young like me, we'd both just be starting out, we wouldn't know a thing about anything, and we wouldn't have this fine caravan to live in or this wondrous carnival to work at. We'd probably just be a couple of roustabouts without a cent between us." I looked into his eyes, picturing him as a slender blond boy with hair standing on end and dirt on his nose. "Me, I'd rather have a man," I said, knowing it was true, that his strong face and sturdy body attracted me more than any gangly boy ever could.

He laughed, laughed his big hearty laugh and squeezed me tight to him. "With that silver tongue of yours, boy, you should go into politics." He laughed again when I wrinkled my nose, then suddenly sobered. One warm hand slipped under the strap of my overalls and pushed it off my shoulder. "Let me see you," he said softly, giving me a gentle push off his lap. "Will you undress for me?"

I nodded and swallowed hard. Moving back a pace or two, I dropped the other shoulder strap, letting the weight of the fabric pull the garment down my body. I sat and loosened my boots and pulled them off, and when I stood, my overalls fell to the floor. I bent to pick them up, but his voice stopped me. "Leave them," he said huskily.

I straightened up and began to unbutton my shirt, the length of which hung down past my hips. Mama would have been scandalized if she'd known I wasn't wearing my union suit, but after I'd washed up I just couldn't bear the thought of putting it back on. One after another, the buttons came undone under my fingers, and the loose shirt fell open. My upright manhood pushed into the gap, and I let the shirt slip to the floor on top of my overalls.

I heard the gasp of Thomas's indrawn breath and raised shy eyes from the floor. His blue eyes seemed almost black in the lamplight, and I watched as their gaze roamed over all of me, from foot to head. "Turn around," he said.

Obediently, I turned until my back was to him. After a moment, I heard the bed creak, and suddenly Thomas was behind me, one warm hand on my shoulder while the other stroked down my back, stopping to caress my buttocks. "So beautiful," he breathed.

He turned me gently, then pressed his mouth to mine. His hands were hot, grasping my buttocks and pulling me tight against him. I moaned, my organ stiff against his with only a layer of cloth between us.

He drew back and looked into my eyes, one hand slipping down to stroke along my belly. "I can tell you are as ready as I am, my dear."

I nodded, heart hammering and knees quaking.

He took my hand, leading me back to the bed. "Climb up," he said. "That's right, face away from me on your hands and knees. Spread your legs a bit. Good." He positioned me as he wanted, keeping a hand on my hip to steady me, and I heard the other fumbling with his trousers. "This may be cold," he said as two slick fingers stroked over my entrance. A bit of pressure and they were inside me. I cried out with the feeling, so different than when the touch was my own.

I could hear his breathing now, harsh and rapid in the quiet, as his fingers were withdrawn and replaced with something hard and hot. Strong hands grasped my hips, and I heard a grunt as he pulled me to him. "I'll go slowly," he promised.

All at once, I could feel myself opening to him as he pressed forward and his manhood slid inside me in one long thrust, filling me as I had longed to be filled, stretching me to a perfect fit for his length and girth until his body was as close as it could be, the cloth of his waistcoat satiny against my skin.

"Please, sir," I moaned, only wanting him to move, to let me feel more of the friction of his hard member. Already a pressure was building inside me, the familiar need to empty myself, but never before had it been so strong.

He grasped me more tightly as he pulled back and then thrust in again, each movement punctuated with a groan, but this time his organ brushed something inside that sent a shock radiating from my center all the way to every finger and toe. I moaned. It happened again, and after the third time my senses drew in until all I could do was wait, trembling, for the next bolt of energy to throb through me as he drew himself in and out, faster and faster, the steady rhythm of the act beginning to falter. Then the pressure inside me was too great, and my whole body spasmed, arms stiff and head thrown back. "Thomas," I cried aloud, the spurts of my release both blissful and agonizing.

A moment later, I felt his body shudder behind me, and heat surged into me in liquid waves.

A feeling of peace stole over me as my breathing slowed, and it seemed only natural when Thomas's weight collapsed onto me until I was pressed flat on the bed. After a bit, he rolled us both to our sides. I squeezed my muscles and felt his organ, softening but still inside me.

"Are you all right, boy?" he said, his hand moving to explore my manhood, now sticky with spent fluids.

"Y-yes, sir," I said.

He lifted himself on one elbow to look down at my face. "Lucas," he said, "is that…?"

I nodded, blushing. "The need came over me just before you finished."

"Well," he said, "that is marvelous. I worried that I might hurt you, this first time, but instead…." He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked at the moisture. He smiled. "As sweet as the rest of you."

I giggled and hid my face against his shoulder.

"You could never hurt me, sir," I said and held him tight, thrilled by the steady beating of his heart.

Finally he drew back until I had to look at him. "You have made me very happy, Lucas. I hope you know that I would do anything for you. You have only to ask."

I smiled. "You could take your clothes off," I said, trying not to look away in embarrassment. "I want to see you too."

He laughed and hugged me tighter. "But if we are both running around without our drawers, then what happened is likely to happen again."

"I was hoping it would," I said boldly.

He shook his head. "Nothing like an insatiable young scamp to keep an old man on his toes. I'll never be able to keep up with you."

"Yes, you will," I promised him.

We both moved to sit up, and Thomas cupped my cheeks in his hands, bringing our mouths together again for a kiss. "Lucas, you are everything I've ever wanted, and more than I ever dared dream of."

I couldn't speak right then, remembering all the dreams I'd had of Thomas and how the reality was so much better, but I kissed him back, and I think he knew I felt the same way.