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    R. Eric
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 4. Chapter 4

I did call grandmother that evening before we got the call from Olek.

“How’s it back in the United States?” Grandmother asked like always, no real hello, just going straight into the conversation.

“It’s more…interesting.” I chuckled. “We moved so we’re getting used to this new place. I’d love for you to come. Can you come up for a few weeks or even just a weekend?”

“I’d love to.” She said happily. “I was going to ask you about October.”

“Grandma, I want to see you. You can come again in October.” I hated to sound like I was begging, but she was the only surviving relative I had. I know…Olek, Mom, and Peter were too now, but she was my grandmother! “A weekend?”

She laughed lightly. “I can probably do that next weekend.”

“Great! I’ll book the ticket.” I said.

“And now, tell me what’s wrong.” She said using a tone that didn’t know something.

I sat up a little. “Why would there be something wrong?”

“Eric Richards, I practically raised you with your mother. I did after your father passed away. I can tell by the tone of your voice.” She said firmly. “There’s nothing wrong with you and Peter, is there?”

It was nice, but it was also irritating that she knew me so well. “No, there’s nothing wrong with me or Peter…or us in general. I’m very close with Olek and Queen Alla. Its just…things are rather…odd here.” I explained about the protesters that had been arrested and Yuri’s warning about possible death threats. I never lied to her, she always knew when I did. I didn’t do it well.

Grandmother blew an angry breath. “Bunch of…” and she said somethings in Ukrainian even I couldn’t understand. It wasn’t the first time she’d cussed in front of me or on the phone, so I wasn’t bothered. “But you’re protected.”

I laughed. “Oh, yes,” I said with emphasis. “We are and Yuri can kick any asses that challenge that!”

“Good.” She still let out some phrases…calling them inbred northern redneck trash in Ukrainian, which there were no such phrases, not really. It was Ukrainian, but she was using American phrases. She sighed. “You know better than I do how many of the ignorant people react to you. You were raised in the South!”

I chuckled. “Yes, I know, but ignorance is not exclusive to just the South.”

“No, it isn’t.” She said and then her happy tone came back. “I look forward to seeing you.”

I had called while at the computer…one of either Peter’s or my computers, we hadn’t staked a claim on either one. We could share one, but if we both had papers or research to do, there were two! We always studied together on the couch mostly. I heard the “ding” and looked up as there was a notification that I got mail. Not usual, but I saw who it was from. I smiled. It was from Drew! I clicked on the keyboard and activated using the mouse and had the system to show the message.

Hello! I thought you should see this as you have more than a passing interest. We gave it a priority, which you know. Cassie had the first entries from Milo’s diary. I did read it, so I will tell you, it’s not that troubling. Yet. More is coming. Okay, it has some parts…just read it. You’ll see. Drew.”

I chuckled as I could hear Drew’s voice as if he was saying it out loud to me. I saw the files attached and clicked on it. I was shaking. This was Milo’s thoughts and the anticipation was expected. I was pleased as the file contained both the original entry with Milo’s not so neat handwriting and the English translation.

 

Monday, 27 December 1937

Bren kissed me! I was not really surprised, I like Bren. You need to know Bren. I decided to write it down because I don’t want to forget it, though I couldn’t if I tried. We’ve been friends since earlier in school when I was fourteen and Bren was about to turn fourteen. I was being bullied by some other guys and Bren stepped in to stop them. I say that because Bren is so shy! He prefers to remain on the sidelines, never getting involved, but he did with me! Our friendship began right after he’d gotten the black eye from his stand against those goons. The goons were part of Hitler’s Youth Program. They see themselves as junior Gestapo. Am I not blonde!? I could be Aryan, they didn’t know me. They wanted me to join them and I said I’d think about it. Saying no apparently was unacceptable; you didn’t take the time to decide. I just knew I couldn’t just join them. Not because they invited me. After what they did, I didn’t want to. Bren and I were almost inseparable from that moment on. I knew I liked him…a lot! But tonight!? He kissed me. My father was always telling me to think about my future. When Bren kissed me…it was a spark in me that was blown on and the flame burst into a blaze. My future? I can’t imagine a future without Bren in it. He’s all I think about now. Things for those like us is very scary; the Gestapo has been very hard on men that do what I want to do with Bren! I admit it! I am falling in love with Bren!

 

Saturday. 1 January 1938

I hadn’t seen Bren in almost a week. I longed to see him. The beginning of the New Year was pretty good and I look forward to what could happen. I told Bren how I felt. You should have seen his smile when I said that! I loved that smile. He said he loved me, too! He has his 18th birthday coming up in a month, not that it matters. I love him! I am making plans. It has to be special. Why do I feel I’m the one getting the present? He and I said to each other; we have to be careful. It wasn’t safe. There are rumors, more than rumor…that we, not the two of us, but homosexual men, were being found and put in the camps. Those triangles they wore was just the beginning. There were less and less every day. We had to be careful. Why? Is our love so bad? We had to be careful.

 

Wednesday, 2 February 1938

We were together at last. Bren celebrated eighteen years of life. We had a party, but…the best thing was after the party. We had gone camping before, never did more than kiss. I wanted more, but we had to be careful, but he insisted I stay that night with him. I wanted to, but guys our age don’t have sleepovers. I made up something about a conflict my parents were having as a reason and I didn’t want to go home because of it. Bren’s parents were understanding and said I could stay. In a separate room. It was about 1 am when I heard the door open.

“Are you still awake?” Bren whispered to me in the dark.

“Are they asleep?” I asked him as my heart was now pounding.

“After their nightcaps and a long day. Yes.” Bren said. It was dark, but I could see his shadow.

“Are you just going to stand there?” I asked. I was nervous. I knew what could happen. What I hoped would happen. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

He came over, pulled a part of the covers back and got in bed with me. “Does this answer your question?” He kissed me. The embers of love had not gone out. Oil was tossed on them and…the blaze fired up again. Hotter. We touched which just made it worse…or better. Touching him led to more and soon, he brought out something…lotion? We touched more, I just hoped we covered up what happened when he asked me to make love to him. I wanted him to make love to me, but someone had to be first. It was a perfect night! We both got what we needed. I thought I loved Bren before, but now. I knew I loved him. I am in love with Bren!

 

Friday, 13 May 1938

Finding time and a place for Bren and me to be together was a challenge. I came up with a plan. France! The beach! Two guys alone would be worth any price. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we’d be careful with our money. It was a plan. We would rent a room at one of the many hotels there and we could spend a weekend together. I think our parents know. Bren’s parents were nicer than mine. They never confronted Bren about it. Afraid of knowing the truth, I suppose. Father did. He and mother questioned me about the time I spent with Bren. I didn’t admit to anything. Not to them. I know the cause of this was fear. They knew just as I did what could happen if Bren and I were caught. After a few hours, …we ended it. No, more discussions about it. No. I couldn’t tell them what Bren and I planned to do.

 

Friday, 10 June 1938

I was so happy. We would spend the weekend together. Alone. At the beach! We’d left the day before to arrive by train in Midi Friday. We rented a room at a hotel on Deauville Beach. It wasn’t the best hotel…it was a few blocks from the beach. But it was ours for the weekend! Two days and two nights. I couldn’t wait for that night. We had to be careful though. I think the hotel owner knew. Maybe I was just paranoid thinking everyone knew we were more than friends, but he told us…there were two twin beds in our room. He must know, why else would he bring it up?

 

Saturday, 11 June 1938

We made love all night! Bren can be…a little wild. I’m not complaining! Today, a photographer asked if we wanted a picture. It was more money we hadn’t planned to spend, but…why not? We were enjoying ourselves on the beach. It was a great day! Father always talks about my future. There will be no future without Bren in it.

 

I smiled at reading this. Then I noticed another file. Clicking the file, the picture I knew came up. My eyes widened. It was the picture of them at the beach. Now we knew where this picture was taken. Midi Beach! The lines and marks were gone! The image was so…clear! I could blow it up! I mean, enlarge it. Still, the image was clear! Such handsome young men! Bren was laughing at something and Milo was, too. They looked so happy.

Peter came in the study and stopped as he looked at my smiling face. “I know your grandmother is coming, but I get the feeling that smile is about something else.”

I nodded. “You’re right on both counts. Drew sent me the translations from Milo’s diary and this picture.” I waved at the monitor. “It…it’s beautiful.”

Peter sat in the chair with me as he looked. “It’s like…they are right there! Black and white, but…they are right there. This is good.” He smiled at the photo. “Do you want me to read these?”

“Everyone will read this soon,” I said kissing him. “Of course, you can. It’s in English.”

“So is every class I take,” Peter said.

I was about to get up when Peter stopped me.

“Am I crowding you?” Peter smiled as he read.

“Never.” I chuckled and kissed his neck. “I was thinking of you, you can never crowd me.” I ran a hand over his rubbing his back.

He sat back smiling after reading. “Those two…were in love.”

“I know the feeling well.”

Peter smiled at me. We know the feeling.”

 

Getting the call from Olek was very…he had just got up. Inside, I was happy he didn’t bother with things like appearances with us anymore…with me.

“Good morning.” He greeted and didn’t hide the yawn. His hair was…not combed, but he smiled. “My favorite brothers.”

Peter smiled. “That’s a used line, but sure. You are ours.”

“Just stating a fact.” Olek smiled drinking something I was sure was coffee. “How are things?”

“What things?” Peter asked. “We started school and it’s fine.”

Olek sighed. “Yuri emailed me. I know about the groups and the threats.”

“We’re okay, Olek,” I said. “We’d tell you if we weren’t.”

“Just…be careful.” Olek pleaded a little. “I trust you and I trust Yuri. It’s the other people I don’t. Just listen to Yuri.”

“We are,” Peter assured.

“He mentioned the issues with the house,” Olek said cautiously. “This is very curious. I never saw the house in person…I got pictures sent by the internet. It seemed like a good idea. Do you think we need to look elsewhere?”

“The house is great,” I said honestly. “I just think…we think it’s too great. I’m just may be paranoid.”

Olek smiled and laughed. “You are many things, but never paranoid. You’re just…aware now. You need to be cautious.” He looked at Peter. “They are adding those new heating elements to the streets of Stryia. It won’t be long before the snows start, but his way. The roads should be fine to drive on when it really comes down. It should give some fight to the buildup of ice keeping access to the medical facilities clear. When the power stations come online, we’ll be ready. Now the old generators will have to do.”

“Great.” Peter nodded.

Olek looked at the screen closer, making his face grow. “Anything new?”

“You’re asking us?” Peter grinned. “Anything new with you? Like you and Helga?”

Olek grunted. “Helga is fine. I’m fine. We are just…so busy! She’s a structural engineer. I’m running the country! Finding time is difficult, but we’re doing it.”

“Good,” Peter said. “We miss you.”

Olek smiled a little softer. “I miss both of you, but you’ll see me and Alla in October.”

I wondered. My birthday was in October, but they wouldn’t base a schedule because of that. Would they? Grandma was coming in October because of that, but… “If I can ask, why?”

Olek grinned almost evasive. “You can ask.” He chuckled again. “You think we forgot you? I scheduled somethings to have to be done there in October. We are having guests I intended to use the house as the meeting place, but…I know it’s your birthday. We’re celebrating your first birthday as part of the family. That deserves a visit. Right?” He said simply.

“And yours is in March,” I said. “As that’s part of the next semester, we can’t be there, are you coming back then?”

“We’ll see.” Olek then frowned a little. “I’ll be forty-three.”

“So?” Peter asked. “That’s better than not reaching forty-three.”

“You’ll find out when you get there,” Olek said. “You’re both twenty-six.”

“No, he’ll be twenty-six October 22nd, I’m older and already there,” Peter said smiling at me.

“By fifty-seven days!” I shot back. “Not even a full two months! That’s hardly a lot!”

Olek chuckled. “Guys!” He held his hands up. “I love this, but I have a meeting to prepare for. I need to shower and all that. We’ll talk again next week. I’m still available by text or cellphone calls. I love you both.”

“We love you, Olek,” Peter said.

“Oh, I need to send you what Drew sent from Milo’s diary, if you’re interested,” I said.

Olek nodded. “Sure. Is it good?”

“This part? Yes.” I nodded. “I’ll send it now. We’ll talk later.”

 

As I said, things did normalize. No longer were we being stared at when we went to class. We did the interview with the LGBT group on Northeastern. They wanted a history about us and they wanted to know more about Makarovia and how the remarkable country came about which we were happy to provide. The website for Makarovia was going to be active.

 

The following Friday, Peter and I waited for my grandmother to get off the plane and come out to the waiting area at Logan airport. She had flown commercially. I held no delusions about her. She was healthy, as far as I knew, but she was in her seventies. I hoped she’d be around ten or twenty years more, but my parents’ deaths taught me an important lesson…I learned not to take what I had for granted. I didn’t even take my relationship with Olek or Alla for granted and certainly not with Peter. Peter and I waited…along with four guys from the American part of our security who knew to hang back but were right there. They were an excellent crowd protector. People saw them and gave us a wider berth. We could have had her picked up, but that was saying something I didn’t want her to feel. She was important to me, that’s what I wanted her to know and I told her that by being there when she arrived. She was important! The thing was, almost everyone at the airport knew us as well. There were the stares again, but no one dared to come to us. Not with those men in dark suits with us.

Greeting her, I thought…about those others…the people that wanted to harm us or threatened us. They might try to intimidate us if they knew who she was. Was she safe? We were given death threats, would that include her now? I was considering the ramifications, just like she told me to when I introduced Peter to her and told her who…or rather what he was. I’d have to speak with Yuri.

She smiled as she headed to us, but then saw the men with us and slowed. I closed the gap and hugged her receiving the kiss on the cheek from her. Yes, she was still very much the picture of health.

“Hello, my dears.” She greeted Peter with a hug and kiss. “It’s great to see you.”

Going back to the vehicles, she saw the SUVs. They were all black! Like the men guarding us, was there a color code with the SUVs like with what they wore? There was more than enough room for her. The need for the needed security made it necessary for two vehicles. The luggage and the four with us rode in one and we; with two guards in the rear, one as a driver this car was full with Peter in the front passenger seat. I sat with my grandmother in the middle seats. Those shows you see, where the limousine with the flags on the front or something of the other country…we didn’t want to call unnecessary attention telling who we were, so that wasn’t done. It would when Olek and Queen Alla came, but not for this trip.

Grandmother came into the house, greeted by Boris and Yuri.

“Welcome, Ms. Sams,” Yuri said taking her hand.

“We intend to make your stay very comfortable,” Boris added.

“Thank you.” She said looking at the foyer. “My goodness!” Grandmother said looking around as we had upon arriving at the house. “It’s a palace, too.”

I nodded. “It is.”

“We have a room ready for you near your grandsons,” Boris said. “Shall I take you to it?”

“You sort of have to, Boris. You know which one, we don’t.” Peter chuckled.

As we went up the stairs, I pulled Yuri back a little. “She is here, but is she safe back in Asheville?” I asked.

“Has she received any threats?” Yuri asked.

“Not that I know of, but…people saw us greet her. A little research and they will know her connection with Makarovia. Should I be concerned?” I asked.

Yuri gave a little shrug. “Be concerned, yes, but…ask her if she’s received any threats or even followed. I’m not saying she’s safe, but…until we know of potential trouble…”

I nodded. “I get it.”

“We could assign someone to be there.” Yuri offered.

I grinned knowing her reaction to that would be. “Katrina Sams would not like that.” I smiled as Boris showed her the room she was to stay in. “It would cramp her style.” I signed. “I’ll talk to her. She is rather private, but I will tell her to tell me the truth.” I waved my hands in frustration as I thought. “She’s got that school and a house. A life. She’s not showing any signs of slowing down. I don’t think she’s going to retire at all. I hope she doesn’t, but…”

Yuri nodded. “When she does…if she does. She may have to move in with us. Then I can assure her safety.”

She looked at the elegantly furnished room she was given. It was bigger than Peter’s and mine, but no extra room for study or like that. There were the ever-present fireplace and sitting area. It was feminine with flowers and various items I would hate, but women ate up. Potpourri? It did smell nice, but it never occurred to me to ask for any. She smiled at the bed and the way it was set up.

“We aren’t even offered…” I grumbled to Yuri and I said pot pour y in English on purpose.

Yuri chuckled. “Do I tell Boris you want some?”

“Noooo.” I shook my head. “I would probably be allergic to it anyway, but it does make the room smell nice.” I looked at the roses on her dresser and waved at them. “And flowers!”

“You have plants in your room!” Yuri defended Boris. His husband wasn’t guilty of any oversights. “Don’t be jealous.” That told me he knew me and it wasn’t serious. He put his arm around my shoulder. “You live here. For now, she’s visiting. There’s the difference. I know your room smells nice.”

“With guys, it could smell like a gym locker, but it does smell nice.” I grinned. “You know I’m kidding,” I said hugging him. “The security men aren’t here, so…” I squeezed him. “I really love you two. Thanks for welcoming her. She means a lot to me.”

“We both know that.” Yuri nodded. “And, I will be honest…you can hug me with the other security men are around.” He shrugged. “You’re the Earl of Stryia. That pretty much gives you clearance to hug me anytime you like. Boris, too. Boris and I love you, too, Eric. I hope I always give you a reason to want to hug me.”

“Then, be prepared. I’ll be hugging you and Boris a lot.”

Copyright © 2017 R. Eric; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Was not expecting journal entries. After reading them though that may be a different story to create. Love what you do.:2thumbs:

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I’m going to claim blond Milo in this story! …Unless and until you come up with someone else who fits my type! (Stan’s my favorite in Blueblood, but I like several others too.)  ;-)

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26 minutes ago, droughtquake said:

I’m going to claim blond Milo in this story! …Unless and until you come up with someone else who fits my type! (Stan’s my favorite in Blueblood, but I like several others too.)  ;-)

Poor Bren!  Left out because he has dark hair.  I did create Milo knowing you bent that way.  There aren't too many redheads in Germany or Eastern Europe.  Blondes aplenty.  Redheads?  No.  Scotland and Ireland.  But that's not where it happened, sorry.  :lol:

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2 hours ago, Hellsheild said:

Was not expecting journal entries. After reading them though that may be a different story to create. Love what you do.:2thumbs:

I will warn everyone.  While Milo and Bren are made up characters, what I will relate to you is fact.  I will give a disclaimer before any others are written.  These are from real recorded verbal and written accounts.  This angered me.  The story of Peter and Eric was to be fun.  It will be, but how Makarovia started?  It's fiction, I know.  I was horrified at what I read and wondered where the real Makarovia was.  I will tell you, if you want the sweet love story.  I'll tell you skip the chapter that isn't sweet.  All I wondered was, what would happen if Harry  had picked a man?  That led to all of this.  It will be graphic in parts, but I will let you know before you read it.  I hope you'll love the whole thing, but we can't forget.  EVER:angry:  Love you Hellsheild, but I just attached this to your message.  Thank you.

Edited by R. Eric
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I will warn everyone.  While Milo and Bren are made up characters, what I will relate to you is fact.  I will give a disclaimer before any others are written.  These are from real recorded verbal and written accounts.  This angered me.  The story of Peter and Eric was to be fun.  It will be, but how Makarovia started?  It's fiction, I know.  I was horrified at what I read and wondered where the real Makarovia was.  I will tell you, if you want the sweet love story.  I'll tell you skip the chapter that isn't sweet.  All I wondered was, what would happen if Harry  had picked a man?  That led to all of this.  It will be graphic in parts, but I will let you know before you read it.  I hope you'll love the whole thing, but we can't forget.  EVER:angry: I put in again for feedback.

Edited by R. Eric
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I don't know why, but I have this image in my brain that Katrina Sams could flatten anyone who threatens her.... 

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4 minutes ago, GWood said:

I don't know why, but I have this image in my brain that Katrina Sams could flatten anyone who threatens her.... 

Almost as tough as Yuri.

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8 hours ago, Canuk said:

Why do i have this "calm before the storm" feeling?

More like: "The shit's going to hit the fan!"  Because it is.  This next chapter was hard, but relevant.

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I'm liking the way that drew sent the parts of Milo's journal to Eric and the picture of Milo and Bren in 1938 on a beach in France, this is the picture that was all messed up. I'm glad that Mrs Sams was able to come visit Eric and Peter in their new home and she was welcomed by Yuri and Boris. Eric is starting to worry about his grandmother's safety once she returns home. I like Yuri has also had the same thoughts only he told Eric that she would have to say that she needs the protection because otherwise she will feel overwhelmed. 

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The first translation of the diaries is send And hope it’s not scary to read. 
I’v read a story a couple of years ago and it was horrible to read what happened to this guy in that camp. It made me very emotional. But the truth is mostly not nice. But it fits in this story over the past of Marakovia past as a safe haven for gay people.

 I’ts nice Eric’s grandma is visiting so they don’t loose contact.

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