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    Lee Wilson
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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. 
This story is an original work of gay fiction. None of the people or events are real. While some of the town names used may be real, any other geographic references (school, events) are purely fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. This work is the property of the author, Lee R Wilson, and shall not be reproduced and/or re-posted without his permission. Story ©2026 Lee R Wilson.

From Maine To The Pentagon - 2. The Search And Contact

Tuesday

If dad joined the army, he could be living anywhere. Using clues from LinkedIn and Facebook, I knew I had to start with the one Anthony Greiss I found and try to contact him. He was from Boston, so it seemed kind of promising. In the guy’s photo, he looked about the right age. I agonized over the message for a lot longer than I figured to, but I think I got it short enough and to the point.

‘Hello Anthony. My name is Kurtis West. I’m looking for an old friend from Maine and am hoping you’re the right Anthony Greiss. Did you live in Pownal, Maine, and join the army in the summer of 2011?

Thanks.’

That seemed to work. I got a response within an hour.

‘Sorry Kurtis, I’m not your man. But since I’m still enlisted and work in personnel, I looked up other Anthony Greisses with an enlistment date of 2010-2012 and only found one. Unfortunately, he listed his hometown as Naperville, Illinois.

There is one, however, that started his service in 2015 after graduating from West Point. Security clearances prohibit me from providing his contact information since you haven’t contacted me from a US Army email, but there is no such restriction on his assistant. Try contacting Lieutenant Cynthia Collins at lt.cyn.collins@usarmy.gov. I hope this is the man you’re looking for.

Sgt. Anthony Greiss’

I replied, thanking him for the information. I crossed my fingers and sent another message, this time to the Lieutenant.

‘Dear Lieutenant Cynthia Collins,

My name is Kurtis West. I got your name from the Anthony Greiss in personal, who said you were the assistant to another. Do you know if your Anthony Greiss lived in Pownal, Maine before he attended West Point?

Thanks in advance.’

This response was slower, almost two hours.

‘Hello Kurtis,

Yes, Major Greiss was born and raised in Pownal. Sgt. Greiss indicated I would likely hear from you looking for an old friend. Being a protective and proactive assistant, I asked the Major if he knew a Kurtis West. He indicated he didn’t. What, may I ask is the nature of your inquiry?’

I responded immediately.

‘I apologize for the subterfuge, but I need to tread lightly. A Major, wow. Did Major Greiss know a Loretta Myers before he went to West Point?

Kurtis’

Her response was much quicker this time, apparently, the Major was nearby.

‘Yes, he did. Now I must ask the reason for your subterfuge. Why the cloak and dagger approach? Word of warning, this conversation will end without further response, and I will report your contact information to the proper authorities without an acceptable response from you.’

Whoa. That’s scary. No more beating around the bush. Again, I replied immediately.

‘Lieutenant, I have recently been informed by my mother that my father’s name is Anthony Greiss and he left for the army the summer before I was born. I turned fourteen in April and have been “evicted” by the man I thought, until Sunday, was my father. I have reason to believe, therefore, that the Major is my father.

Kurtis’

Time moved slowly waiting for another response. It took twenty minutes before my phone dinged again.

‘Email will no longer be sufficient. Please provide a contact number.’

I sent her back my phone number. My ringtone sounded almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Kurtis West?”

“Yes. Lieutenant Collins?”

“Yes. How are you doing, young man?”

“As good as I can be, I suppose. Do you think the Major is indeed my father?”

“The evidence seems to point in that direction. But as you said, we need to tread lightly. The Major cannot afford any sort of scandal. Hearing your voice, I believe you are being truthful and have no ulterior motives, but I have to be sure.”

“I understand. Obviously, a Major has a significant responsibility. I don’t really have any more information that I can share.”

“That’s fine. If this progresses far enough, we’d like to get DNA so we can be completely sure.”

“That would be fine.”

She gave me another number to text a photo of myself to and said I’d be hearing back from her later in the day. I almost couldn’t believe my luck. I’d hoped I’d be able to find him, but on the first full day of searching? Awesome. I should have asked where he was located, the Lieutenant’s calls said restricted number. The cell phone I sent the photo to was 845. That was southeastern New York State. Unfortunately, I knew that didn’t mean that’s where she currently was.

It was nearly five o’clock when I finally heard my ringtone again. I had just come in from taking Dusty for a walk. I had to take a deep breath before I answered the call from the dreaded restricted number. I had this flash of fear that I was wrong. This wasn’t my father and I was about to be massively rejected.

I answered anyway. Tentatively.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Kurtis.”

I hesitated because I wasn’t expecting a man’s voice.

“Ya-yes?”

“This is Major Greiss. How are you?”

“Nervous?”

He laughed, “I can understand that. Your number indicates you’re in Maine. Where exactly are you?”

“I’m at the Rodeway Inn in Brunswick.”

“Oh that won’t do. What were you expecting to do for Christmas?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Three days is not that far.”

“Really? It’s just three days away? I’ve kind of lost track of the days.”

“I think I can understand that. So, while we’re not yet sure you’re my son, I can’t see a fourteen-year-old boy spending Christmas alone. I’m sending my assistant up there tomorrow, you’ll check out of that place and spend the night at a better place, then come here the next day.”

“Can I ask where ‘here’ is, sir?”

“Yes, I suppose that may interest you. Right now, I’m at the Pentagon in Alexandria, Virginia, but I live in a suburb, Green Valley.”

“And the better place needs to be pet friendly, I have my dog, Dusty, with me.”

“Interesting. We’ll make sure that happens. What room are you in at the Rodeway?”

“108.”

“Great. Lieutenant Collins will call you when she gets close so you’re not surprised by a knock on the door.”

“Thank you. That would be awesome.”

“So, your stepfather, for want of a better term, kicked you out with your dog.”

“Not exactly. He threatened to kill Dusty, so mom brought him to the motel.”

“I’ll withhold my opinion of the man out of respect of your fourteen good years with him.”

“Don’t bother, he’s an asshole.”

He chuckled, “Okay. Well, I’ve got to get going, but I’ll see you in two days and you’ll see Lieutenant Collins probably around this time tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Goodbye, sir.”

“Goodbye, Kurtis.”

Wow! I hadn’t even thought about Christmas, but it’ll be nice not to spend it alone in a motel room. Sure, I’ll be with a virtual stranger, but a major in the army sounds about as safe as it can get, aside from a cop.

I fed Dusty and made sure his water was full before I braved the cold once again to go to Antigoni’s Pizza. Fortunately, mom picked a place with food choices pretty close. Tomorrow night, I guess I’ll be eating on the government’s dime.

Wednesday

It's been tough waiting around all day. I know the lieutenant won’t be here until later this afternoon. I checked, it’s a ten-hour drive from the Pentagon. I wonder if maybe she’s catching a flight, then renting a car up here? Oh, well, I’ll find out soon enough.

At a little before four, I got a text message from the lieutenant.

‘Hi Kurtis. I’m leaving PWM now. I should be there within the hour. I’ve booked a room at the Embassy Suites here at the airport. We’ll have to drive back since Dusty isn’t a fully trained service dog. See you in about an hour.’

‘PWM is Portland airport I guess?’

‘It is. See you soon.’

‘I’ll be ready.’

She replied with a thumb's up emoji. When she got here, in uniform, I was surprised at how young she looked, but I was afraid to ask her age. I did get to see the power of the US Army in action when we went to check out of the motel.

“108, checking out.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll print your receipt.”

She looked at it.

“You’re charging us for the entire week? He only spent three nights.”

“It was prepaid.”

“You owe him four nights.”

“Sorry, that’s not the way it works.”

“Is the manager here?”

“Sorry, no.”

“Can you call him?”

“It’s standard policy, ma’am.”

“Fine. When you do talk to him, let him know the US Army will show its appreciation by arranging visits from DEA and ATF agents. I’m sure he’ll welcome them.”

“Wait, wait. We don’t need to go there.”

“Oh, but I think we do.”

“Let me go in the back and get his number, I’ll give him a call and be right back.”

“We’ll wait.”

I couldn’t help but snicker to myself when he left.

“You looked like you were having fun.”

“I was.”

“Could you really get those organizations here?”

“The Major could.”

“Cool.”

The man came back out holding five one-hundred-dollar bills.

“The manager approved a refund for the unused days including today. I hope we can avoid any other trouble?”

“Tell the manager thanks, and you won’t be hearing from the any of those organizations.”

“Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

We left, both chuckling to ourselves once we left the lobby. We got into her rental car and headed back to the airport. After a small tour of the airport, we arrived at the hotel, checked in and gave Dusty some food and water, we went to the hotel’s restaurant for dinner.

At ten o’clock, she announced, “We have to hit the road early, so I hope you don’t mind hitting the hay now.”

“That’ll be OK. I guess I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

“Yes. Although I’m comfortable changing in front my army teammates, a twelve-year age gap would make us undressing together inappropriate.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were twenty-six. Not that I would look anyway.”

“No?”

“Yeah, I prefer guys. I hope that’s not going to be a problem for the Major.”

“I don’t see why it would. But I do appreciate your honesty.”

“No problem. Well, off to the bathroom I go. I’ll wait until you knock to come back out, OK?”

“Works for me.”


Next up - "Going Home”

Copyright © 2026 Lee Wilson; All Rights Reserved.
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I love comments. If you read this sometime after the original posting, don't be afraid to comment. Unless I miss getting the notification, I will respond.
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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2 hours ago, Philippe said:

That may just be a late night of drunkenness that makes him…forget what happened; how did he miss 3 days, to wake in a barn hundreds on mikes from home, battered and beaten rather extensively, with no ID, no money, and a strangely personal tattoo on his forehead… GAY HOMOPHOBE.

I sure hope the major is better than that.

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11 hours ago, weinerdog said:

I'm guessing deep down The Major knows Kurtis is his. Judging by his ability to bring DEA and AFT to the hotel I hope The Major has the ability for Dear old Step Dad to get a visit from someone.

Whether the Major truly believes Kurtis to be his son or not, he hates hearing that a person he once knew can discard a kid to be on his own at such a young age. Perhaps the better judgment does tell him that young Kurtis is his son, but I have to wonder if he isn’t also preparing to take out the trash.

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1 minute ago, Philippe said:

Whether the Major truly believes Kurtis to be his son or not, he hates hearing that a person he once knew can discard a kid to be on his own at such a young age. Perhaps the better judgment does tell him that young Kurtis is his son, but I have to wonder if he isn’t also preparing to take out the trash.

I’m considering that he didn’t know Bernie before, and mom was an unwilling participant in the eviction. I mean she did show up at the motel with a bruised cheek.

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After only two chapters I regard this story as one of your very best yet @Lee Wilson. For me, this chapter could have used a tissue warning, although some of the current symptoms are genuinely hay fever.

Kurtis' discussion with his likely father, Major Greiss, moved me tremendously, even moreso because he, Major Greiss, recognised the importance of Dusty to Kurtis. He is certainly a man of action; I have no doubt Bernie aka Burnie may find himself in a spot of bother. Perhaps the Major may put Bernie on a one-way flight to Burnie in Tasmania, Australia, with no returns accepted. 

I hope those Wilson creative juices start bubbling aplenty so this story extends to at least 10 chapters. I cannot rate it highly enough Lee.

 

Edited by Summerabbacat
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13 minutes ago, Lee Wilson said:

I’m considering that he didn’t know Bernie before, and mom was an unwilling participant in the eviction. I mean she did show up at the motel with a bruised cheek.

Granted, I think I read too much into the Majors comment of out of respect for Kurtis’ 14 good years, but anyway, Kurtis set that straight. As to mom, her subdued actions did ultimately help Kurtis, but she should have been protecting him from the eviction and the asshole. The comment of it being his house is far from true with a wife and kid. He could be looking for a mobile home trailer to rent while fighting his divorce and child support. Most any state will still consider him the parental father until …ironically his bio dad might have to adopt him or get court action of removing the parental rights of Bernie, or where Bernie willingly gives them up, as well as mom, to leave bio dad, once proven, as his next of kin. Legal version of Twister anyone?

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12 minutes ago, Summerabbacat said:

After only two chapters I regard this story as one of your very best yet @Lee Wilson. For me, this chapter could have used a tissue warning, although some of the current symptoms are genuinely hay fever.

Kurtis' discussion with his likely father, Major Greiss, moved me tremendously, even moreso because he, Major Greiss, recognised the importance of Dusty to Kurtis. He is certainly a man of action; I have no doubt Bernie aka Burnie may find himself in a spot of bother. Perhaps the Major may put Bernie on a one-way flight to Burnie in Tasmania, Australia, with no returns accepted. 

I hope those Wilson creative juices start bubbling aplenty so this story extends to at least 10 chapters. I cannot rate it highly enough Lee.

 

Thanks. I guess I get better as I go along, with the possible exception of my Secret Author story.

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13 minutes ago, Philippe said:

Granted, I think I read too much into the Majors comment of out of respect for Kurtis’ 14 good years, but anyway, Kurtis set that straight. As to mom, her subdued actions did ultimately help Kurtis, but she should have been protecting him from the eviction and the asshole. The comment of it being his house is far from true with a wife and kid. He could be looking for a mobile home trailer to rent while fighting his divorce and child support. Most any state will still consider him the parental father until …ironically his bio dad might have to adopt him or get court action of removing the parental rights of Bernie, or where Bernie willingly gives them up, as well as mom, to leave bio dad, once proven, as his next of kin. Legal version of Twister anyone?

I have compared myself to twizzlers before, but twister works too. I don’t know yet Bernie’s path to misery, but there will be one.

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1 minute ago, Philippe said:

Are you insinuating he needs to wait patiently while having a cork plug in his hole? That does tend to mature the contents some and does probably make the whine better too.

Believe it or not, but(t) no. @Lee Wilson's comment made me think of a song by the late, great jazz/R&B singer, Nancy Wilson. The song, An Older Man (Is Like An Elegant Wine). 

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