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For Jon

Wilder and Wiser

When we become men, we put away childish things. Learning how to think and reason and behave like an adult is all part of growing up. But very often, memories from our childhood stay with us, long into adulthood. And as Max stood on the clifftop, looking down at the fort on the beach below, he couldn't help but remark on how those childish things keep reappearing, even when you least expect them.

After moving to college downstate, Max had had to do his fair share of growing up. The shy slightly-built college student bore little resemblance to the rambunctious elementary school pupil who had first visited this place, many years ago. Yet at college as at school, Max was hardly the most popular or outgoing of students. People would often find him wandering around campus, alone and completely aloof (or so they'd tell him). And then there were classes: how he'd managed to pass the previous year was a mystery. But one thing that had never changed was his love of adventure. At weekends, or just whenever he had a free day, he'd pack his rucksack, head for the countryside and just wander, sometimes for hours on end, until he found somewhere wild, a place his own. So he was delighted when three of his friends invited him on this post-exam trip to a little archipelago far from the mainland. Two peaceful summer nights on an uninhabited island, with only his friends for company: perfect. Even though Max had been feeling drowsy and a bit unwell on the drive down, he was just as excited as everyone else about the holiday. But then they arrived, and before they had even pitched their tents for the first night, the mood in the group had soured. Apparently, someone had packed one tent too few. Straightaway the arguments started - who was in charge of tents, why everyone didn't just take care of their own tent, and so on and so on. Never mind deciding which unfortunate pair would have to share. Max kept quiet at first: after all, it had been his job to pack the tents. Instead he just stood and listened, hoping against hope that they wouldn't round on him next. But of course they did. Sure, he tried arguing his corner: there was nothing they could do now; and anyway, what was the hang-up about sharing? But they just wouldn't stop, berating Max and lambasting him until eventually he snapped, and stormed away from camp along a cliff-top path.

Nobody went after him or tried to call him back. Why would they? And so, he walked, further and further along the grassy path. The sun was still high in the sky that midsummer evening, and by Max's estimate, there were at least another two hours to go before sunset. That gave him plenty enough time for a little walk, to clear his head and wait for tempers to cool at the camp. He stopped off once or maybe twice when his head started to throb, but otherwise he just kept on walking. And after a few minutes, Max was already starting to feel better. It really was peaceful out here, with the wind rustling through the grassland, the breaking of the waves below, and the black rabbits scampering about in the distance. And so when Max crested a hill, and saw the fort on the beach below, he was certainly taken aback. Why was it here? And why did it look so strangely familiar? He had to investigate.

The cliffs ended a short way ahead, and Max could get onto the beach safely. He picked his path down the hill and onto the beach. The evening wind whistled across the sand and stone, rushing in off the sea, a salty blast in his face and hair. Max held his coat tightly around his chest as he marched through the side wind, while stones crunched under his walking boots. Over to his right the waves were breaking gently on the shore, a static hiss which ebbed and fell as he drew nearer and nearer to the structure straight ahead; until, a few short moments later, he was standing in its shadow. It was a hollow shell of a building, an entire structure built from branches and twigs, all woven together. Max turned his gaze upwards, to the very top of the Fort. Even as an adult, the structure was at least twice his height.

Max had been here before, when he was just eight years old, he was sure of it. Or, at least, he thought he was sure. But this was a lot more than an incredibly vivid deja vu. He remembered planning this fort, laying down its blueprints; and also building it, overseeing its construction up until he left for home. It stood exactly as incomplete as it did all those years ago, the wind and the weather clearly having punctured a few holes through the shell. And yet, the structure showed no signs of collapsing. Either somebody was maintaining it, or it had been very well built the first time around. He decided against touching it though, just in case.

Max was impressed by the fort when he was younger, and he was still impressed today. Then again, he was only the architect. He did have some quite remarkable engineers back then. But there were just too many things that didn't make sense: how he had found this beach the first time, the events which took place here, and of course those helpers. Of course he hadn't forgotten those things. He couldn't forget them. But nor could he tell anyone. His Mom and friends and schoolteachers would never have believed him at the time. You travelled to a land full of... giant creatures? Sounds like the over-active imagination of an eight-year-old boy. And now he was an adult, that sort of thing would have sounded even more, well, childish. So Max never did get to the bottom of what happened here, but of course he had wondered about the whole experience. Was it real? Or if not, could he really have imagined such a detailed world? But it had to be real: he found the sailboat again the next day. Or at least the broken-up remains of the sailboat.

So no-one believed Max. But for Max himself, it all seemed real. It all just seemed so real. And now he was back at the fort, apparently, and it was exactly as he remembered it a dozen or more years ago. So never mind then; what was going on now? Was he dreaming? Hallucinating? Because if he was imagining all this, the intricate woven walls and the wind and the salt spray of the sea, it had to be the most vivid hallucination ever.

He walked around the fort to check out the other side, only to see somebody else was sitting under the fort. Or something else, at least. Max froze. The person, or creature rather, looked like he could have stumbled out of a children's book: bipedal, but with white fur all over his body, and two impressive spiralling horns adorning his head. It couldn't be, could it?

"Alexander?"

The horned creature responded straightaway, looking up and giving a quick gasp, eyes widening as he saw the stranger who had called his name. For the first time in over a decade, their eyes met. Max shook his head and stared again in disbelief. Okay, this was silly now. He was twenty-one, an adult half way through college, far too old to even be thinking about monsters from picture books. The fort was one thing: any Native Americans or hippies or whoever could have built that. But the goat-like creature was something completely different. He couldn't just walk a few miles from a campsite and find a two-legged goat-man, sitting casually on a beach. Or maybe he could. There's more than one way to get to Narnia.

Alexander was a... well, neither of them knew exactly. He was some kind of creature, a wild creature, a wild... thing. The best description Max could think of was 'goat', but goats walked on four legs and had hooves. Neither of these applied to Alexander. He did have horns and a stubby little tail though, so there might have been some goat pedigree in him. His fur was long and white, and compared to some of the other creatures that Max could remember, Alexander was on the short side. Still, even as an adult, Max was a little shorter than Alexander. Maybe the goat had grown up too?

"Don't you remember me? It's Max."

When the creature spoke it was shy, timid, quivering. Just as Max remembered.

"Max? Is... is that really you? What are you doing here? And where's your boat?"

"I... I don't know. I just came here for a few days, found the fort... and then found you. Oh God, somebody tell me what's going on. Or pinch me, anything."

Alexander frowned. "Why would anyone do that?"

"To tell me I'm not sleeping."

The goat-like creature shook his head and picked up a pebble. "Dear me Max, you always were strange." He rolled the pebble around in his claws. "If you even are Max. You look really different."

"I guess I do. I'm an adult now, so I guess I've changed a lot. But it's still me. And what about all those things that happened, all those years ago, with you and Carol and KW and Douglas and... the others: do you remember them too?"

Alexander certainly acknowledged the list of names, but he still looked sceptical. Granted, Max wasn't exactly expecting smiles and hugs, especially after he had left them all so suddenly. And he certainly didn't expect many pleasantries from the goat. But nor was he expecting the goat to shift so rapidly from curiosity to stubbornness. "So welcome back, Your Majesty. When does the wild rumpus start?"

Max could sense the bitterness in the goat's voice, but still he tried a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I was a bit of an idiot as a kid."

To no avail. "And yet you were our 'King'. How much of an idiot does that make us?"

Max was lost for words. Eventually he sighed. "Sorry Alexander. It all just sounds so stupid now. And you always said I didn't look much like a King."

Alexander shrugged. "Not that it would've made any difference. Carol would never have listened to me. And when you're that much bigger and stronger than someone else, why would you even care what they have to say?"

Max tried a different tack. "So where are the others, Alexander? Are they around?" Max had to know, regardless of Alexander's opinion of them. Everyone he met out here, all those years ago, they were all his friends. But from the way Alexander curled up, Max could tell that he'd touched a raw nerve.

"I don't want to talk about it. Life 'round here, it just wasn't the same after you left. All those other guys, they all changed. One minute they want to be your best friends, the next, they've turned on you." Tell me about it, Max thought.

True, things had never been fantastic for Alexander, when his friends, or the closest he had to friends, would often overlook him, belittle him, or plain ignore what he had to say. However, at least they had been around for him. Now, he hardly saw them. KW had last come by a few... weeks ago? Months ago? It was hard to tell. And the less said about Carol the better. If it weren't for Carol, life might not have been thrown into such disarray. With Max their King missing, the group naturally looked up to Carol to take over responsibilities. There was still food to be gathered and the Fort to finish, not to mention the huts that Carol himself had destroyed. But Carol was just plain uninterested. Diplomacy descended rapidly into arguments, until one day, Carol just upped sticks and left. After that... well, KW had her cool new friends, Ira and Judith were sorted, and Douglas and Daniel just gradually drifted away. All that was left was a little white goat, alone on this vast stretch of seashore.

"But we've still got each other, right Max? We're still friends?"

Straightaway Max smiled. "Yes we do, Alexander." But just then he hunched over, propping himself up on the Fort and clutching his forehead. Alexander leaned in close.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Guess I'm still a bit funny after the car journey. I'll be fine though." Of course the concept of a 'car journey' was beyond Alexander, but he nodded all the same.

"Alright. The wind's picking up, anyway. So, shall we get inside?"

The 'fort' was mostly an empty shell, but they had managed to enclose one small part of it before Max left. Max staggered to his feet and followed the goat behind the fort, where he saw the little opening in the wall. Alexander squeezed in first, his little tail tuft raised, and Max crawled in afterwards. The light was dimmer in here, sunlight streaming through the gaps in the twigs and branches. Outside Max could hear the gentle crash of the waves, dampened by the wooden wall around them. And under his hands, grains of sand turned to something much softer. Grass... or straw.

"This is nice," Max whispered. "This is actually quite nice."

"Thank you, I'm glad someone appreciates it. And someone's around to appreciate it." Alexander kicked back and nestled into the straw, and his companion did likewise. The floor space was limited, but the roof of the fort was high, cavernous.

"This is my place now," Alexander continued. "Not my home though, I got my hut fixed after Carol... never mind. But I brought in the straw as well, 'cos sand's a nightmare to get out your fur..." Alexander's voice drifted off. Max turned to face him. The goat was taking a good long look at Max, inspecting him from all angles.

"Is everything alright?"

"You look like Max. You have the same face at least, but you're body's not so... white."

It took Max a few moments to realise what Alexander was talking about: that white wolf suit he had worn on his first trip here. God, it was years since his Mom had thrown that manky old thing away. So Max started explaining about the suit, the clothes he was wearing then - God, this was all so surreal - about humans and furless bodies...

"Show me."

What?

"I've never seen anyone without any fur. I wouldn't mind seeing what it looks like."

Yeah, fine, why not? It wasn't like Max had never gone shirtless before. That was just like... a day at the beach really. So Max took off his T-shirt without too much reluctance, pulling it over his head and dropping it to one side on the straw. It was a warm evening, and Max didn't really miss the shirt. Alexander leaned in a little further with reserved curiosity, and Max let the goat examine his near-hairless chest. With his muzzle close and twitching, he ran his clawed hand down Max's chest, making Max's breath cut short. Suddenly Alexander grinned upwards, tugging with impatience at Max's shorts.

"How about these? Do they come off as well?" Okay no, going shirtless was one thing. But taking off his shorts, here with another male... that was too far.

But hold on a second: what was he so hung up about? People - humans - obviously didn't come by this place much, else someone would have seen Alexander by now. A wooden sculpture might have been well-known locally; but talking animals would have made national news, world news even, and Max had never seen any news reports about talking animals. So, the chances of anyone discovering them were pretty slim. As for Alexander himself: he didn't wear clothes, and why should he know or care about human taboos? Hey, maybe Alexander just wanted a good look?

So first, Max's boots came off. Then his shorts. And before long, he was sitting in the safety of the fort, his old friend by his side, without a piece of clothing on his body. To tell the truth, he didn't feel half as self-conscious as he thought he might. Sitting here nestled into the warm straw, it felt exciting. Liberating.

And Alexander looked like he approved, judging by his smile and his approving little murmurs. "Mmm... that's much better."

Max lay back on the straw, his gaze fixed on the roof above, all too aware that a male goat was eyeing his naked body. "Well, this is new."

"Everything in its right time, Max."

Max gazed to his side. He was a little wary of the goat's easy-going smile, but he tried not to let on. "Uh-huh. So I understand if you can't forgive me, after just abandoning you..."

"I do."

"...Sorry?"

"I forgive you Max. This is my home, and it was nice for us having a King for a while. But, KW told me about your little chat, and... she was right. This isn't your home. You have a family who need you more. And friends now too, I hope?"

"Yeah, but they don't really need me," Max replied, before retracting the statement almost straightaway. Yes, he might not have been 'best buddies' with them or anything, and yes, they had just had a rather big falling-out. But how many other people would have invited him on this camping trip?

"And how about a mate?" Max stared blankly. "Or... a partner? Sorry, I don't know what you'd call it where you come from."

Max simply shrugged and shook his head. This conversation better not be going where I think it is...

"That's a pity. You're quite handsome, Max. It's the first time I've seen you like this. And I like it."

Alexander rested a hand on his shoulder. But Max didn't flinch. He simply lay in silence, alone with the white goat, the twigs and sticks of the fort cocooning them in on all sides. Outside, the waves kept rolling ashore, while some kind of seabird was chattering away. Inside, he heard Alexander's breath, and he could feel it too: warm, deepening and quickening in tempo. And as Max stared at the handsome white creature, slender yet thick-furred, he couldn't help but bite his bottom lip. Of course Max had thought of Alexander many times in the past thirteen years, figment of his imagination or not. But he had never, ever, thought of Alexander in that way.

"I've waited so long, Max. And I might not see you again..."

"Are you kidding?" Max interrupted. "I know where to find you now. I'll come visit. Every summer, every weekend that I can..."

Alexander shook his head. "It would just be such a shame for you to leave, without us trying this."

Max tried to look innocent, but Alexander wasn't buying it. And to be honest, neither was he.

"What, you're not curious? Not even a little bit... curious?"

Alexander shuffled in, pressing his white-furred body against Max's bare chest. And as he met the goat's pastel-blue eyes, a fire kindled deep within him, and rather than try and move away he simply lay there, still. Max had been close to a Wild Thing before, several in fact, back when they had all fallen asleep in a bundle on his first night here. But this was different. Feeling that wiry fur against his bare skin, the warmth of the goat's body, how cautiously the creature pressed with his claws... all of this was enthralling, and exciting. Never mind the thoughts which he knew were racing through his friend's mind

Alexander reached down to hold Max's side. Effortlessly, he rolled Max over and moved to straddle him, pinning his back to the soft straw with a little chuckle on his own part. Max certainly wasn't expecting the white goat to be so strong. In this position Max simply could not budge. In the dimness of the chamber, he felt the goat's heat, and heard his gentle stuttering breath echoing around the chamber. The goat leaned down and touched his nose to Max's. Max blushed, but Alexander smiled warmly and brushed Max's hair back from his forehead.

"Heh, guess we're both now the bad guys."

Max kept silent, focusing on his own breathing. He could only manage a quick glance down at his friend before looking straight up at the goat's face. All of this wasn't repulsing him as much as he would have expected... or liked. Alexander meanwhile kept smiling, his breathing now heavier, the goat-creature doing nothing to hide his growing arousal. And to Max's surprise, his own arousal was building too. Alexander rolled his hips, grinding himself gently against Max, and very soon human and goat were sporting a pair of rather impressive erections. Max stared at the thick goat length, drooling lazily onto him. Everything looked reassuringly human, at least.

Plucking one hand from Max's body, and planting the other by Max's side, Alexander reached down and gripped both of their lengths, making Max jerk almost immediately under the creature's weight. The goat's paw-like hand was more than large enough to wrap around them both, and when he began to stroke himself and Max simultaneously, pressing and grinding together, Max could do nothing but shudder and let out a deep moan, their hot breaths washing over each other's faces.

"Mm... how's this?"

Max simply nodded, gritting his teeth and clutching Alexander's other arm tight. All he could feel was the goat stroking up and down, over and over, working away with his claws. Several ideas flashed through Max's mind, things he had tried with girlfriends and dates over the years. But he decided against them all. Tonight, he was happy just to leave his friend in control. At one point Alexander did lean down for a kiss, rubbing noses with Max as gently as he could; and Max kissed him on the lips with ha heated sigh before pulling away. Maybe Alexander wanted more, but this was as much as Max was comfortable with. Alexander didn't press the issue though, and he even reminded Max that they could stop at any time. But Max didn't want him to. Rather, he lay back, watching the goat smiling in satisfaction, and feeling the young buck work away with an eager vigorousness.

When you have a new partner, a whole new body to explore and to start with afresh, it is always a challenge. Exciting definitely, but still a challenge. Of course Max knew himself. He knew every contour, the right places to stroke and with how much pressure. But for Alexander... well, part of the fun was in the exploring. To Alexander's credit, he had changed tactics several times, sometimes going gentle, sometimes hard and quick just as he did then, and... oh God. Gradually the pleasure swept over Max, more and more until it engulfed him, unstoppable, leaving his whole body tense. Alexander noticed too, and he raised the tempo, rocking back and forth more powerfully, his breath growing harsh and unsteady and his whole body shuddering until he rolled his head back and cried out loud.

"Mmm... oh Max!"

The two males jerked, almost in unison, and Max began to tremble under the goat's weight while he heard Alexander try in vain to silence a deep pleasure-filled moan. Suddenly warmth coated Max's body, and he closed his eyes, feeling it land at random all over his bare chest and stomach, human and goat unleashing themselves together in a powerful climax. The ripe and musky goaty smell reached Max's nose a couple of seconds later, as he felt Alexander's breath streaming onto his face. Opening his eyes as slowly as he dared, he saw the goat, arms shaking either side of him, his chest rising and falling heavily. With a breathless little chuckle Alexander patted Max on the shoulder, slipping to his side and wrapping his arm around Max to hold him close.

"So... how was that?"

Max felt strangely blank, lying there in his friend's arms. "I don't know. Everything just happened so suddenly."

"But did you enjoy it?"

With a broad grin, Max nodded.

"Glad to hear."

After a few moments, Alexander pulled away from the embrace, reminding Max that he needed to get back to camp before the sun set. In a way Max was glad that they didn't lie there together afterwards: it meant he had no chance to contemplate what he had done. Plenty of time for that on the walk back. So Max reluctantly got to his knees, and after gathering his clothes he followed the goat back out onto the beach. Outside he had a quick wash, before towelling off quickly with his T-shirt and slinging it back on. It was damp, but it would have to do. Alexander was waiting by the foot of the cliff, ready to take him back up to the coast path. Max cut across the beach, making a beeline for the goat. But just then, a flash of pain cut through his head. Clutching his temple, he slowed right down and staggered to the ground. He could hear footsteps approaching, rapid and anxious. He craned his neck up, and as his vision blurred he saw a white figure rushing over to him.

"Max... Max..."

*

"Max? Can you hear me Max?"

Max opened his eyes, waiting for his vision to drift into focus. Grass rustled under his body as he shifted about - fresh dewy grass, not straw or hay. His head thrummed, but thankfully the dizziness was fading fast. The light was dim, specks of light glistening in the gloom. The open air, on a country evening. Soon Max's head had cleared, and he could tell where he was. His friends - companions - whatever - were sitting on the grass beside him, and in the distance stood three small tents. So, he was back at camp. He took another look at the others. Three humans. No goats.

"Oh Max, thank God you're okay."

It was Sarah, his friend. And this time, Max knew exactly what to say. "Yeah, sorry for wandering off like that. And sorry about the tents."

Sarah frowned at him, utterly humourless, and Max swallowed hard. She couldn't up the pretence for long, however. Face cracking at the edges, she eventually took a deep breath, before speaking in a much softer voice. "Look, you're okay, and that's the main thing. And hey, it meant I got to see the Fort a day early."

Max blinked a few times. "Fort?"

"Yeah, that sculpture-y thing just down the coast. It's something of a legend around here, or so the ferryman said. And it's pretty impressive, I must say. But why anyone would have built it, no-one knows. Apparently it just appeared here one winter, about ten or twelve years ago. Some folks came by the next spring, and there it was."

"Yeah... it's something alright." Good, that sounded nonchalant enough. "But what about me? How did I get back here?"

"We brought you back, the three of us. Well, we did have some help from the goat."

By Ziegenbock