While Chayne was scooping the leftover frosting out of the large mixing bowl into a Tupperware dish, Rob was running the dishwater so they would not wake to a dirty house. The barefoot boy with his platinum colored hair and elven face said, “Now, listen, Baby, cause I need to say something to you. And I’ve been debating if you needed to know or not. But I need you to know, and if that’s selfish I’m selfish, only I don’t want any secrets between us.”
Chayne spooned the last of the frosting from the big glass bowl and Rob said, “I heard Jewell say that Ted Weirbach was here.”
“Uh… yes.”
“And Shannon said so too. A few people.”
Chayne scooped the bowl slower.
“Are you getting at something?”
Rob shook his head.
“It’s just that… You never told me he was here. And he’s your ex.”
“Right,” was all Chayne said, and handed the bowl to Rob who plunged it under the rushing faucet. He squeezed blue soap into the bowl, and as it frothed up he said:
“Chayne, do you remember when I came back a day late from the party, the Purim party?”
“Yes.”
“I was quiet. Very quiet. It took us a while to be normal.”
“Yes, I remember.”
Chayne remembered because the day Rob said he wouldn’t be coming home was the same day Chayne had gone back to Ted, and when Rob had returned, for some days Chayne wondered if the preternatural boy suspected anything. It was a relief when, at the end of the week, sitting on opposite ends of the couch writing in their notebooks, toe touching had led to laughing and laughing to lovemaking. It was with a joyful relief when Chayne lay in the bed rejoicing in Rob’s soft and slender body while the blond boy kissed him up and down, murmuring, “You miss your blue eyed boy, Chayne? You miss me? You miss our loving?”
And Chayne never told Rob he was repeating himself. He closed his eyes and ran his hand over Rob’s shoulders and over his face, through his hair, opened his eyes to look at Rob’s almond eyes and treasure his penis, bobbing and firm below his belly. They linked together in more than laughter, kissing and running hands over each other, and the worries about his age or their differences hardly mattered. This mattered, this and the days on the couch, writing together and finishing each other’s sentences.
“A guy,” Rob said, “a friend I met asked me to hang out with him. I knew it meant we’d get together. And we did, Chayne. I slept with him that day I was gone, and you need to know that.”
They didn’t say anything, and as Rob scrubbed out the great glass bowl, he said, “You’re relieved and not angry, which means…. Which means… I don’t know if I’m strong enough to know what you have to tell me, and I don’t need to know. It’s just… I know we’re together, and I know, I know, I’m together with you. It’s not even that I want to be with you. I AM with you. Do you get that? And whatever we did doesn’t change that. I’m fucking linked to you. We’re linked together. If you agree with that statement, then… Regardless if I never get with someone else again, or… what, we can work it out? Alright?”
“I’m not who I want to be.”
Chayne only lifted his eyes to indicate that he was listening.
“I’m not who I want to be,” Russell said again.
“Then who are you?”
Russell had not expected this. He would have gone on about his sleeping with Ralph, his affair with Jason, going from one to the other at the same time, his love for Cody, his lust for Cody. He wanted to go on about this new found obsession with sex where he was almost giving his cousin Jimmy a run for his money. Every time his mind went to an answer, a moral, it fell away, and at last Russell answered:
“I’m tired.”
Chayne was good at saying nothing, and Russell said, “I just want to read a book and be at peace and be… I think I want to be a virgin again.”
This was something Chayne should be able to understand, to encourage.
“No, you don’t,” Chayne said simply, and Russell was surprised when he said it.
“You do not want to be what you were before you knew what you know now. You want to be the person you were before, now that you have done what you’ve done now.”
“Yes,” Russell said, because it sounded right. And then he thought it out, repeated to himself what Chayne had said before repeating, “Yes. That’s exactly it.
“But how do I do it?”
“I don’t know.”
Chayne rarely lied, and that was the good and the bad of him.
“I’ve been going between Jason and Ralph, and I don’t really want either one of them.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes,” Russell said. “I love them a little. I love them enough. In fact, I love Ralph a lot. But they could never be enough, and I know I’ll never be enough for either of them. Things would be great if… If someone else wasn’t on my mind. I feel like every time I go to either one of them it’s to make up for someone else.”
“Cody.”
“Yes. Ohhhh,” Russell half howled, throwing his hair back. “I feel like if I could have what we were starting to have, the rest of it wouldn’t matter.”
“That could be true.”
Russell looked at Chayne.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes,” Chayne said, blandly.
“Cody is twenty-three.”
“All year. And you’ll be seventeen this year.”
“This is the part where you tell me how fucked up and wrong I am,” Russell said.
Chayne only shrugged.
“Cody’s the same age as Rob, and Rob makes me very happy, and the distance in years between me and Rob is greater than between you and Cody. And then, look at Cameron’s parents. They’re just what they should be, and you see how that worked.”
“But what should I do?” Russell demanded.
“Has either of you considered taking a paternity test?”
“Well, but… we know.”
“No,” Chayne said. “You actually don’t. You know Thom slept with Cody’s mom. You think Cody looks like Thom. That’s what you know.”
“So….” Russell began, “go ask Dad to do this test. That’s…”
“You don’t have to ask Thom,” Rob cut in.
Even Chayne looked at Russell.
“You can do a sibling test. You just need your blood or mouth swabs and Cody’s.”
“Is it cheap?” Russell wondered.
“No,” Rob said truthfully. “But I’m not poor, and I would be willing to pay for it.”
“You really would?”
“I totally just said I would. Please don’t make me repeat myself.”
“You’re getting more and more like Chayne everyday.”
“Thank you,” Rob said.
Russell replied, “And thank you.”
It was Russell who suggested they go out that night. He knew Ralph didn’t feel like being around people, so he let Gilead and Mark have their Friday together and Cameron and Chris as well.
“I have a fake ID,” Jason notified them.
“And you can get away with looking twenty-one,” Russell noted. He couldn’t imagine what he would do with a fake ID.
They took Ralph’s car and Jason, still enthusiastic, said, “I wish we could take the top down.”
“It’s March,” Ralph, feeling more weighed down and realistic than ever said as they whizzed down Finnalay Parkway.
“But it’s almost April,” Jason noted. “Almost Easter.”
“Yup,” Ralph said, darkly, “But before you get Easter, you have to get crucified.”
Hello, friends! Art cost (usually the artist) and frankly, we need the support of those who love us. If you like what you’re seeing here, and have enjoyed the steady outpour of stories which has continued for years, please consider making a contribution. All of this takes a lot of time and a lot of work, and there is so much more I want to do! If you are able, won’t you consider a one time or regular contribution at: paypal.me/chrislewisgibson
And now back to the story.
Ralph waited outside the liquor store while Russell went in with Jason. Russell, despite his height, feeling distinctly underage, wondered if this was a good idea.
“I don’t even know what to get.”
“You don’t have to know what to get,” Jason said. “I know what to get. You’re just here to carry. And basically, what we’re going to get is what gets Ralph drunk the quickest.”
“I can’t believe he got a girl pregnant,” Russell said as they went through the beer aisle.
“I know,” Jason said. “It was really kind of dumb.”
Russell looked at Jason.
“What?” Jason said. Then, “I know I’ve been with a lot of girls, but you better believe I always had protection or something.”
What that “or something” was, Russell thought of asking, but Jason only said, “Anyway, I’m swinging more and more away from that.”
Russell wondered if Jason knew that he and Ralph had slept together, that Cody had been with Ralph. He didn’t think it was time to bring it up now. The cashier rang up the liquor and they carried the paper bags out to the car.
“I don’t smoke that shit,” Ralph grumbled.
Grinning, Jason held out the bong to him.
“Com’on man, what’s the point in us trying to get you to have fun if…”
“If you’re not going to have fun,” Russell said.
“It’s easy for you guys to have fun,” Ralph said.
“Actually,” Russell held out his hands for the bong and took a great inhale.
“It isn’t,” he said, coughing as white smoke left his mouth and his nostrils.
He closed his eyes and put his head back as they all sat on the floor of Jason’s room, and he handed the tall glass bong to Ralph.
“Now, take this.”
Ralph took a hit, coughing, and Russell wondered if he and Jason really had done this more. It was one of the first things he’d done with Jason, though rarely. He took a hit of the burning bourbon, feeling looser, realizing how badly he had been feeling too, and let the hypnotic music wash over him.
“Nights in white satin
Never reaching the end
Letters I've written
Never meaning to send
Beauty I'd always missed
With these eyes before
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore
'Cause I love you
Yes I love you
Oh, how I love you!”
“What is this shit?” Ralph said.
“I dunno,” Jason shrugged. “It’s Russell’s music.”
“It’s The Moody Blues and you two need culture.”
“La de dah,” Jason said, smiling at him as he lit the bong and took a long inhale.
“…Some try to tell me
Thoughts they cannot defend
Just what you want to be….”
“We’ve been listening to this on repeat for the last…”
“Do you want me to change it?” Russell asked in a voice that said he wasn’t going to change it.
“No,” Ralph took a very long draft of brown bourbon.
“No, I like it. It’s good for tonight.”
Russell felt himself doing what he’d been too nervous to do before. He was swaying and dancing.
“I love you,” he sang, “I love you. Oh, how I looooove you.”
Neither one of them was laughing. It was as if they took his drunken singing and swaying seriously. Russell finished his shot, his throat burning and his head humming, and he leaned over and took Jason’s chin, kissing him. He could tell Jason was startled, and then Jason just shrugged and fell into it, kissing Russell back as the music played over them and the sagey, earthy smell of marijuana burned in the room. High on liquor and youth, he and Jason made out in front of Ralph.
And then Russell stood up, lifting Jason with him, and Ralph, swaying, stood up as well, entranced in the watching. Russell felt Jason’s hands on his shoulders and on his waist, felt deeply drawn to him, but deeply conscious of Ralph and deeply conscious of what he planned to do next. He slipped his hands into Jason’s sweatpants and began to stroke him though his underwear feeling his already firm penis harden. He kept stroking it the way he did all through the night when they were in the dark together, and then, still stroking him, he turned to Ralph and kissed him too.
While Jason moaned, Russell thrust his tongue in Ralph’s mouth and Ralph threw his arms around Russell, kissing him wildly. Russell went from Ralph to Jason, Jason to Ralph, milking them both, pulling Ralph’s trousers down and then Jason’s joggers. Now, as he kissed one and then the other, he went down on his knees and started to take first Ralph and then Jason in his mouth. As he sucked them the music played on.
“Letters I've written
Never meaning to send
Beauty I'd always missed
With these eyes before
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore
Yes I love you
Oh, how I love you
Oh, how I love you…”
On his knees, he placed his hands on their asses, soft round hills, different in their ways from each other, stroking them, rising back up to kiss the boys. They stood over him, their mouths open to the pleasure he was giving until, at last, Ralph and Jason kissed each other and Russell rose, lifting their shirts for them, guiding them to the bed to make love to each other. He brought the bourbon and now he turned off the lights. The last to go were the blinking fairy ones. In the absolute blackness it was easier to do things. As he felt twin mouths on his body and pulled twin faces to him, he knew that in the absolute blackness, it was easier to do everything.
He didn’t want to ruin the darkness. Always he thought he would get up and leave, and each time the darkness called him back. Arms and kisses, the softness of skin called him back, the pleasure of lying half asleep and listening to Ralph and Jason take each other in the dark brought him back. Sips of liquor, hits of marijuana brought him back, their bodies and this night lit by the occasional burning flame that touched a cigarette, fired a bong, brought him back.
He never made it further than the bathroom across the hall, almost giggling as he skittered past the eager dog. When they stepped out, they never even put on underwear, because no one came to Jason’s part of the house. Once, after he had peed, the door opened and someone kissed him hungrily. He realized it was Ralph long after the kiss had begun and sat down on the bowl and gave him head before he waited in the bathroom while Ralph pissed, and then kissed him again.
But now the heavy grey light of day came through blind slats, and he could not stay asleep. He lay on his side and looked at Jason and Ralph, brown and ivory, limbs linked together. The room smelled stale with weed and, without thinking, Russell got, dressed and left.
The sky grew lighter as he came closer to 1735 Breckinridge, and it was almost April weather, soon enough Easter would be here. He went into his backyard, but only to pull out his bicycle, and then he continued to ride east, bowing his head to the rising sun. He rode through Curtain and across Kirklnad and up to Colum. He rode past Noble Red and Nehru’s house and through the park until he arrived, colder than the sun rising through the trees would imply, at the Barnard house and locked his bike to the no parking sign. He went around the back, where it was overgrown with weeds in the summer and icy choked weeds in the winter, and he went through the back door and up the back stair. He heard snoring from the room that was either Jill’s or Justine’s, but music was playing in Cody’s room, so he opened the door.
“Russell!” Cody said in excitement.
Then he tilted his head.
“Russell, are you alright? It’s like… Eight in the morning.”
“Well, if you’re up I can be up.”
“True,” Cody said. “But hardly an answer.”
Then he said, “Jill is with Shane.”
But Russell had turned his back on Cody, whose dark hair hung like a curtain on his shoulders. He was in his boxers and the little room was hot as always. He had known Cody in this room. They’d made love here. Russell took off his winter coat and placed it on the chair before Cody’s desk.
“No,” he said, at last. “I am not alright.”
Russell took off his gloves and his hat and scarf and then he took of his boots. He stood before Cody in jeans and plaid shirt and socks and then he took of his plaid shirt, and now he pulled down his jeans. He took off his tee shirt and pulled off his long johns and then, at last, his briefs and his socks, and stood before Cody naked.
Cody sat on the bed, frightened for Russell and full of sorrow, but Russell saw his penis rising out of his boxers the same time Russell felt his own erection rising.
Cody pulled off his boxers and stood there, well made, browned, thick limbed, thick penised, eyes wet and sad and full of a heat and the love Russell longed for again. They stood naked in front of each other, and then Russell, turned around and hit the wall with his fist and lay against the wall, sobbing.
Cody pulled his underwear back up and took the old comforter at the foot of his bed. He came to Russell, draping it over him, and as Russell wept in his arms, he whispered nonsense to him, stroking his hair and rocking him until his sobs subsided.
