Chapter 2

“The dream of settling the plains is a myth that the government and railroads devised to pull people out to that God-forsaken place,” Greerson said after he was done chewing. “It’s for Mormons, immigrants, and freed slaves…not for young men like you. I know you’re ready to start your life, but you can start it around here.”

Frank had spent the last year preparing for this moment and he wasn’t backing down. “You can’t stop me.”

Irritated like a cat with a mouse cornered that it could see, but not reach, Greerson drew in a sharp breath. “Be sure to tell your ma goodbye, and be sure to write.” As usual, when he couldn’t persuade Frank to listen to his reason, the abrupt end to the conversation marked the elder Greerson’s dismissal of his son. He cut another piece of pancake and stared straight ahead as he continued eating.

* * * *

Frank and Gregory gathered their already packed bags and left the Greerson farm after a long series of uncomfortable goodbyes. They stopped in town to close out Frank’s bank account before continuing their journey to Gregory’s childhood home. Frank had learned to shorten his strides and Gregory had learned to lengthen his in order to move in unison with their regiment. They similarly fell into step on the road north to Carroll, Iowa. After three and a half years in the United States Army, it was a hard habit to break, but the rhythmic crunching of their boots added to the symphony of cicadas buzzing around the trees in the late summer morning.

“I’m sorry things didn’t go as well as we planned, Frankie,” Gregory said to break the tension.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Frank said.

“Maybe we should have taken the train home.”

“We’re trying to save the greenbacks, Greg.”

“I know, but maybe if we had gotten here sooner and left sooner, the possibility of making it through the winter wouldn’t have been such a big deal.”

“I think he was bound and determined to keep me here no matter what. Sorry we couldn’t sleep together, or even sit together that much.” Frank broke their walking cadence, kicking the road in disgust.

“It’s all right. I expected as much.”

“It just blows me up. If you had been a wife, they would have made every effort to accommodate us. And he wonders why I want to leave.” Frank brooded as he fell back in line with Gregory’s steps. Their boots trudged through the silence.

Frank remembered the first time he realized he liked boys instead of girls. Roy was seventeen, but all the adults teased him because they said he didn’t look but fourteen or fifteen. To Frank he looked like a man. He had blond hair and blue eyes, just like Gregory. Because they were the youngest, Frank’s pa paired them together. They spent most of the day together. He was kind of a drifter, working from farm to farm during the late summer and early autumn season, so Pa let him stay in the barn at night. On the night the harvest finished, Frank was restless and in heat for that boy after spending four days with him. Confused by his attraction to the older boy, Frank kept his distance. That night, he decided to go talk to Roy. When Frank went out to the barn, he was sitting there playing his banjo without a shirt.

Fooling around with the migrant worker was Frank’s first contact with another boy and he knew then that he was different than any of the other boys he went to school with. Frank never heard from Roy again, but the next year, Jimmy’s family moved to Audubon. They lived there for two years until they moved away. The last letter said that his pa told him he couldn’t write anymore. That had come from Colorado somewhere—Leadville, maybe. He said he would try to sneak away and write, but he never did.

The sound of their cadence rose in the silence once more, and they continued walking until they figured two hours of sunlight remained for the day. They found a place to camp near a stream that provided water and wood. After a quick meal of leftovers provided by Frank’s mother, Gregory asked Frank to cut his hair.

“Why didn’t you ask me to do this back at the farm?” Frank asked. The irritation in his voice was evident, a combination of the events of the morning and another long day of travel. “Ma, Ellen, or Pauline would have done a better job.”

“I didn’t think about it then, but I want to look good for my ma.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been in such a foul mood today, Greg,” Frank said.