Part Seventeen
Homecoming

I felt a little better after I talked to Sidney. Before it had happened, I hadn't even really been clear in my mind that guys could be raped. Sidney told me that was a concept that a lot of people had a hard time wrapping their mind around.

"The thing is, Walter, that with male-on-male assaults, it's even more of a power issue than it is with male-on-female. Some people call it homosexual rape, and that's wrong. A homosexual is a man who finds love and pleasure with another man. A rapist is someone who delights in forcing himself on a reluctant partner, and it often doesn't matter what gender or age that victim is. If that old saw about it being uncontroled lust were true, then ninety-nine per cent of rape victims would be attractive women past puberty, but still young. But victims are very young, very old, fat, thin, plain, beautiful, handicapped... The only thing they have in common is vulnerability. And that doesn't mean weakness, Walter. Some of the toughest people in the world are rape survivors. You're one of them."

I didn't feel tough. I felt like just giving up and crawling in a hole. But I couldn't. The doctors wouldn't let me. When I became withdrawn, they'd just keep after me, never leaving me alone to brood. When I became surly, they rode it out, deflecting my nasty comments and snappishness. After a couple of days, I became ashamed of myself, and began acting a little more normally. I don't know, I might have gotten back where I could function, but I didn't have the chance.

I knew something was bad wrong when so many of them showed up at once. Colonel Potter, Father Mulcahey, even Charles. Father sat down beside my bed. From the sad look on his face, I knew it was bad. "Radar... Son, I have bad news. You're going to have to be strong."

My first thought was of Ray, and I'm not ashamed of that. He seemed to me to be the one who had the most danger around him. But they didn't know about Ray, not who he was, anyway. The second thought made my guts clench. "Mom?" Father Mulcahey shook his head, and I knew. "Uncle Ed."

"He passed away, Radar. I'm sorry." I put my hands over my face. "It was very quick, he didn't suffer. Your mother said he went out to gather eggs. She went out not five minutes later to tell him about a hen she thought was brooding, and he was already gone." He smiled faintly. "She said he'd found the nest, though. Had one of the eggs in his hand."

"Yeah, Uncle Ed was the only one who could beat me on finding the eggs." I started crying.

People tell you men shouldn't cry. As Colonel Potter would say, "Horse hockey." Uncle Ed had raised me, along with my mom. He was the only father I could remember. He taught me to drive, and fish, and whalloped my tail the couple of times I was stupid enough to sass my Mom. I loved him.

They just let me cry for a minute. I could feel Father patting my arm gently. Through my fingers, I said. "Mom... Mom needs me. I have to..."

"You're going home, son." Colonel Potter said quietly. "I'm shoving the paperwork through, at gunpoint if I have to. We'll have you out of here by tomorrow, the next day at the latest."

"But Mom..."

"Radar, don't worry." Charles leaned over my cot. "You remember my sister, and what a grand time she had at the 'reunion' we organized back in the states? Well, she half fell in love with your Uncle Ed. She's on her way out to Iowa to be with your mother till you arrive, and help her with whatever needs to be done. She's a crackerjack little organizer. All those generations of charity good works have bred it into the Winchester women. Your mother will be well taken care of till you arrive."

And that was that. My army career was over. I was going home whole, at least in body.

I insisted on getting up, so I could show Max the ropes. He was going to take over as company clerk when I left. There were a few rough moments when I was afraid he wouldn't make it, didn't take the job seriously enough, but he buckled down. I knew he'd do a good job. I trusted him.

I said good-bye to all my friends in camp. Normally, there would have been a little celebration for someone returning to the States, but they let it slide, because of the circumstances. I spent some time in The Swamp with Hawkeye, Beej, and Charles. I even drank some of that rotgut they distilled, for a farewell toast. I promised to tell Winchester's sister hi for him, and to look in on BJ's family if I ever got to California. I promised Hawkeye that he and his dad were welcome on the farm anytime they got the urge to see the midwest.

I didn't cry, but I came close.

Igor, the cook, gave me a box of cookies to take on the trip, and thanked me for never throwing my food at him ('cause that had been known to happen). Margaret Houlihan actually hugged me. If I hadn't been so sad, it might almost have made me forget for a second that I wasn't interested in girls that way. And Colonel Potter...

Well, after Uncle Ed, my two commanding officers had been my dads. I lost Henry Blake, too. I was going to miss Sherman Potter.

I was getting ready to climb in the jeep that would take me to Seoul, and the airport, and the airplane that would take me home. He said quietly, "Radar, I just want you to know that in all the years I've served in this army, I have never served with a more responsible, honorable, and brave young man." Then he saluted me. "Son, I'm proud to have known you."

And, I guess, if a man like Colonel Potter can say that to me, I haven't done too bad after all.

The trip was uneventful. I didn't have much of an appetite still, so I shared out most of Igor's cookies. It made me pretty popular on the plane, but I didn't feel much like socializing. I guess you can understand that. We stopped off in Hawaii, then went on to California.

I had the biggest shock... well, one of the biggest shocks of my life in California. We had a four hour lay over, waiting for my connection. I was sitting in one of those hard chairs, feeling kind of numb, when one of the prettiest little curly headed girls I've ever seen ran over and hugged my leg, grinning at me. She was followed by a lady so pretty that she had to be her mama, and I recognized her as she was holding out her hand to me. "Missus Hunicutte?"

She smiled. "Peg, Radar. I'm happy to meet you, but sad that it's under such circumstances." Then she hugged me.

We went to the airport restaurant and ate dinner, and she wouldn't let me buy for all of us. She said BJ had wired over more than his usual allotment, and told her she was to try and cheer me up a little while I was there. She said that she told him that he didn't have to tell her to do that. They tease each other sometime. Kinda like me and Ray.

It did make me feel better. It's kind of hard to be totally sad when you've got an almost baby on your lap, playing with your glasses, and hugging your neck. I felt a lot better when I finally got on the plane for Iowa. Of course, that kind of seeped away during the flight...

Old Mr. Tupper picked me up at the airport. He'd been a good friend of Uncle Ed's, they'd gone to school together. On the way home, he assured me that the neighbors had been making sure that the chores were kept up on the farm. That's one thing about Iowa farm people. We may be a little boring to the rest of the world, but we take care of our own.

When we got to the farm, there was a tall, slender lady sitting on the porch, and she stood up as soon as we drove into the yard. I could tell by looking at her that she was Major Winchester's sister. For one thing, there wasn't a farm woman in the world who wore clothes that sophistocated. For another, she looked like a Winchester. Kind of like Charles, but softer and prettier.

She smiled at me as I got out of the truck, and opened the front door, calling in, "Dear? He's home."

Mom came out on the porch. She... I'd never seen her look like that, except the last time I saw her, when I left for boot camp: tired, and sad, and trying real hard not to cry. I walked over to her and put my arms around her.

I'm not a big man, but she seemed so tiny to me then. She'd never looked small before. I mean... She was Mom, and she was as big as she had to be. Big enough to take on the world for her family. Now she seemed smaller, more fragile.

She had her face against my shoulder, and she wasn't crying, but she was shaking. She said, "He's gone, Walter. What are we going to do?" I patted her back, and rocked her like she'd rocked me the times that the world had hurt me. "It's okay, Mom. It hurts, but we know where he is now. Hey, maybe God will let him pick the winners in the horse races, huh?"

She actually laughed a little. "Oh, Walter, my baby. I was so worried when I had to let you go, such a sweet little boy."

I kept rocking her. "It's okay. I'm back. And I'm a man now, Mom. I'm a man."