Obsidian

by Todd Young

  “I have a torch, though.”

  Ben thought of the woods and balked at the idea of walking through them alone.

  “You could sleep on the couch or bunk in with me.”

  “Bunk in with you?”

  “I have a big bed, a water bed.”

  James nodded and then burped. The beer was going to his head, but strangely, he didn’t feel angry. Just tired.

  He glanced at the couch. It was a two-seater, and there was no way he was going to get any sleep on that.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “I’ll bunk in with you.”

  “Okay, then,” Ben said, grinning again, but then holding his grin in.

  James didn’t have any pajamas, and guessed he’d have to sleep in his underwear. Which was what he usually did. He realized he had boxer shorts on, and figured that wasn’t so bad. And a waterbed, that might be good.

  He felt really tired now, and a little woozy. Had Ben slipped something into his beer? Was that possible? He could barely think.

  “I really need to go to sleep now,” he said.

  “Sure. Well, I’ll just clean my teeth.”

  James didn’t even wait. He walked into the bedroom, stripped down to his boxers, and got under the comforter. The bed bucked and swayed, and he smiled, turning onto his side, more than ready for sleep.

  “That’s my side,” Ben said when he came into the room.

  “I’m not moving,” James muttered, and then drifted off to sleep.

  [] [] []

  During the night, James dreamt again. This time, he was in the tree, and he was watching Ben in the water. Ben was naked and his cock was enormous, a full eight inches. As he woke a little, he was vaguely aware that he had a boner. Then he became aware of something near his asshole — the back of Ben’s thumb pressing against it. It was pushing against his hole. He struggled to wake, but found it difficult, and then finally fell out of the bed.

  He struggled toward the light switch and turned it on. “I need to go home,” he said, speaking loudly, and for some reason incoherently. It was as though he had cotton wool in his mouth.

  Ben woke and rubbed his eyes. “What’s the problem?”

  “I need to go home.”

  “You need to go home?”

  “Yeah. Yes. I need to.”

  “Can’t you sleep?”

  “No. Yes.” He flapped his arms indecisively. “I just need to go.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll get you a torch. Wait a moment.”

  Ben struggled to get out of the waterbed, and then James realized he was wearing boxer briefs, a tight white pair, and his cock was clearly outlined. He turned away.

  Ben found the torch and returned to the bedroom with it. “You want to be careful in the woods,” he said, and James nodded.

  “You still look a little drunk.”

  “I feel really odd.”

  Ben turned his head away and coughed into his hand. “You’ll be fine.” He patted James on the shoulder and for once James didn’t flinch. He was simply too drunk.

  He set off, stumbled down the steps and fell. Ben was watching on, and he told him to come back inside.

  “I’ll be okay,” James said. He got up.

  He found the path at the side of the house and started off. For some reason he couldn’t walk properly, and he told himself never to drink beer again. As he neared the woods, he began to feel afraid. He hated the dark, and the torch wasn’t the best. He’d barely made it into the woods when he stumbled over a root and fell. The torch went out and it was pitch dark. He scrabbled around in the undergrowth, but it was five or ten minutes before he found the torch. Thankfully, it still worked.

  When he reached home and turned the lights on he realized he was bleeding. He’d grazed his hands and his knees when he fell, first from Ben’s veranda, and then in the woods. The torch had gone out before he’d reached home, and he’d had to stumble the last few hundred feet. He fell into his bed in his clothes and slept with the lights on. When he woke, it was eleven thirty.

  Hell, he thought. That was beer for you. And he’d be so keen to have a glass. It occurred to him that he’d left his hair cutting kit at Ben’s, but so what? He didn’t want to see Ben again — not anytime soon. The guy had had his thumb in his asshole, or practically.

  He had to be a fag, or he wasn’t a fag, then he was sexually frustrated. That was easy to believe. Living all alone the way he did. James turned Ben over in his mind again. He pictured his haircut, and realized how much he liked the guy. But that had been too much. Whatever the explanation. You didn’t stick your thumb into some other guy’s asshole. No. The whole reason for coming here was so he could get away from people. And Ben was a person. Next time he went into Lincoln, when school started, he’d buy himself a bolt for the back door. That way Ben would have to knock if he wanted to come in.

  [] [] []

  James didn’t see Ben for a week and a half. Whatever had happened between them had been a major breech. Ed came over one day and asked if he’d done anything to upset Ben, but James played dumb. Maybe he had. Maybe Ben was innocent and was waiting for some sort of apology from him. He didn’t know. He didn’t understand people and never had. The only person who’d ever made any sense to him was Tina, and that was because she had spent so much time explaining things. As though he was a child. But he wasn’t a child anymore. He was twenty-three. He’d be twenty-four in November. But even so, he felt like a child. When an employee at a store called him “Sir” he still found it a shock. He wasn’t a “Sir.” He wasn’t an adult. And all he was looking forward to now was getting to school so he could spend some time with some children. They made sense. They’d always made sense. He could laugh and joke with them and feel at ease. But he wasn’t going to be that type of teacher, not at first, not a friend to children. During his training, he’d heard the same thing from every experienced teacher he met. “Don’t smile before Easter,” they said, meaning to be tuff at first, even if you could relax later in the year. He’d do it just that way.

  Before Ed left he told him about the fire and the ghost, and how his great grandfather had said he could stay.

  “Really?”

  James nodded.

  “I’ve never seen him, you know. But don’t tell Julie. She’ll want to get a priest in here, and I’m sure he’s quite happy.

  James thought for a moment. “If I see him again, I could ask him.”

  “Sure. Yeah. Do that. I’d hate to think he was held here when he was supposed to be somewhere else.”

  “Like heaven, you mean.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Julie has some idea that he needs to move on, that he has unresolved “issues” here.

  James nodded, and then grinned. It sounded so silly.

  [] [] []

  School started on a Monday, and he drove into Lincoln early, getting to the school by seven thirty. Nothing was open, and he had to sit on a bench and wait. He’d worn trousers, a button down shirt and a tie. He knew teachers dressed casually these days, but he wanted to set an example for the kids. He was going to be the best damn teacher it was possible to be.

  When the classroom finally opened he walked in with his briefcase and set up his desk. He had a box as well, full of all the teaching materials he’d managed to gather during his training.

  He didn’t have anything planned for the day, and he knew that was a problem, but the thing with Ben had upset him too much. Over the last week or so, he’d read every book in the kitchen, even the non-fiction ones, including Chaos: Making a New Science and The Mind of God. Those had been a challenge. What he really needed were stories, and he planned to go to the bookstore this afternoon — as well as Ace Hardware. If he had an Internet connection, then downloading books would be easy. But, unfortunately, that option wasn’t open to him.

  The first boy to come into the classroom called him “Sir” and asked him politely if he could put his books into his desk.

  James got a bit of a shock. He said ye
s, of course, but he wanted to talk to the boy, ask him about his summer and so on. He was obviously a country kid, well brought up, and he reminded James a little of Ben. Even so, he kept himself studiously silent and reserved, and once the boy had put his books into his desk, he left the room again.

  James smiled to himself. The poor kid. It would have been so easy to be nice, but that was the wrong way to go. He’d been told time and time again that if you made friends with the children, then they quickly lost respect for you, and you’d be struggling all year. No, the time to make friends was when he had everything set up. Then he could relax.

  A girl came into the room, and then another boy. They were keen to choose their own desks and he let them. It would be easy later, when he got to know them a little, to separate any of them who made trouble together.

  He busied himself at his own desk, appearing to work, though he was actually writing a letter to Miranda. He guessed he’d never send it, but it was something to do.

  By nine, all the children were in the room and seated at their desks. He waited for them to quiet down, and then, when it was utterly quiet, he stood up and wrote his name on the board — Mr Avery. He didn’t think there was much a child could do with a name like that. He’d trained with a girl called Snodgrass, and had advised her to change it. After her first teaching practice she’d decided to, and had finally chosen Smith.

  He began with a story, gathering the children on the carpet and starting on The Giver. It was probably a little old for them, but he loved it. And the other thing he’d learned was that children met your expectations. If you expected them to understand something, then they were more than likely to.

  After the story, he handed out some worksheets that he’d photocopied off this morning. It was a simple English comprehension test, and not really the sort of thing he should have been doing on his first day, but he’d simply been unable to plan after what had happened with Ben. All he’d been doing was reading. He really ought to have been setting out his first few weeks at school, but right at the moment, he had nothing. He was going to have to wing it.

  At around ten fifteen, something went wrong. A girl threw a piece of paper at a boy and he got angry with her. As he yelled, his voice broke, something that happened from time to time, though why or how it had started he didn’t know. The children began to laugh and his face became heated. He retreated to his desk and sat down with his head in his hands. He felt utterly humiliated. Then Sandra appeared.

  She breezed into the room, aware, somehow, that something was wrong. She asked the class how they were doing, and then commanded them to attention with her stance. She was an utter professional, obviously, and for the next ten minutes had them eating out of her hand. Then it was time for recess. She approached his desk and asked him what was wrong. He told her as best he could, but she offered him no commiseration.

  “Can I see your planning?” she said.

  He was aware that it was recess, and he felt like a cigarette. He also wanted a cup of tea. But she talked on for fifteen minutes or more until he finally admitted that he had nothing planned, that he’d been having difficulties at home and had been lucky to make it here today.

  She nodded, but again there was no hint of compassion in her manner. She held herself erect and talked on, outlining to him how he would be under supervision for the next few months, and explaining how both she and the deputy would need to oversee his planning and come in to watch an occasional lesson.

  He felt like crying, and that was unusual. He never cried.

  “What are you going to do for the rest of the day?”

  “I have some photocopies.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, don’t rely on those too much. We expect a little more here.”

  With that she flounced out of the room. Recess was over and he hadn’t even had a cup of tea. The children were lined up outside and he went out to get them. The rest of the day was hell, pure hell.

  [] [] []

  He bought himself three novels, but balked at buying the bolt from Ace Hardware. It would be nice to see Ben again, nice to have him walk into the house.

  As soon as he got home, he concentrated on planning. Math and English first, and then science. It took him most of the night, and he didn’t eat until after eleven p.m. Then, in the morning, he was too ill to go to school. Not physically ill, but psychologically ill. He decided to take a mental health day, and phoned by eight a.m.

  By ten p.m. he was at the stream. It was a week or more since he’d swum, and though he needed to do some work on art planning, and some on social studies, he figured he had time for this later in the day.

  He peeled his clothes off without a single thought for who might see him, and then spied Ben in the bottom paddock. He was looking at him, but turned away. James stepped into the water.

  Fifteen minutes later he noticed the tree jounce, and he smiled to himself, ducking beneath the water. Now maybe everything could go back to the way it had been. Ben in the tree and him fooling around. He put on the best show he’d put on yet, finding new ways to duck into the water and reveal himself. He even got out on the side with the tree on it and stood close to it in order to give Ben a scare.

  Then he guessed he had to jack off. He sat across from the tree in his usual position and spied the piece of obsidian. He wasn’t using that, but he picked it up nonetheless. Maybe it would give Ben a thrill — just the thought of it. He could do it seven times, he thought, if he was going to do it. That had been such a kick last time the way he’d actually come as he smashed it into his nuts. He considered doing it again, but told himself it would be stupid. Instead, he played at it, pretending to hit his nuts as he jacked off with his other hand.

  Afterward, he felt like smiling up at Ben. He laid back on the sand, and put his hands behind his head, his penis growing flaccid. It was so nice to lay in the dappled sunshine. And he was hungry now. Some KFC would be perfect, but he’d have to go into Lincoln for that.

  He heard the tree jounce, and worried that Ben might fall. He opened his eyes to slits and saw Ben climbing down from the tree. Perhaps he thought he’d fallen asleep. It almost felt like it.

  He walked home naked, swinging his clothes in his hand. He was a little worried that Ed might see him, but he more or less understood by now that Ed worked the land on the other side of the road, while Ben worked the land here. He didn’t care if Ben saw him. Not now. Now everything would be fine with them again.

  [] [] []

  Even so, he didn’t see Ben until Sunday, and then he actually knocked on the back door. James opened it. “You can just come in,” he said.

  “Oh — right. That’s all right, is it?”

  “It’s all right by me.”

  Ben grinned. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “No. Not since that night.”

  “When you cut my hair,” Ben said, and ran his hand over his head.

  James was surprised by how much he looked like Jordan, the boy who’d first asked if he could put his books away. Since then, he’d grown an affection for the boy, and though he’d promised himself not to have favorites, he knew he was already lost.

  Things had been a lot better at school Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. The planning made all the difference, and on Friday afternoon he’d had a chance to take the children out for a game of Tee-ball. They’d really enjoyed it, and he’d been able to relax a little.

  On Friday morning he’d had a supervised lesson with Sandra, and that had gone well also. When he asked her about the Tee-ball, she said fine. “Games are very important.”

  On Saturday he’d read a novel, a Ruth Rendell, and he’d enjoyed that, though he was yet to finish it. He’d had to train extra hard in the morning, as he didn’t really have time now during the week. Not unless he was going to do it at night, or at the crack of dawn. That had been the plan, and he supposed he might make it so, but really, teaching children took it out of you.

  “So what have you been doing?” Ben said.

>   “Working.”

  “Working?”

  “At the school.”

  “Oh — right. School’s started. I never know when.”

  “Do you ever go into town?”

  “Not often.”

  “You should come in one day and help me teach — spend some time with the children.”

  “Can you do that, can you?”

  “I can set it up, if you like. All you’d have to do is play some games and do some reading with them. Maybe some Legos or something with a couple of children who’ve been doing the right thing.”

  “Oh — okay.”

  “You’ll make a big hit.”

  “You think so?”

  “There’s this one boy who looks just like you.”

  And then he went on to describe Jordan, feeling a little foolish as he finished, because he was acting like the boy’s father, as proud as a father anyway.

  He swallowed and glanced away.

  “You’ll have to tell me when. I’ve always got something around here to do.”

  That didn’t seem entirely true. He’d often seen Ben wandering across a paddock with a piece of grass in his mouth.

  [] [] []

  Ben came in the Tuesday after the following weekend. Everything seemed fine between them now. On both Saturday and Sunday, James had swum in the stream, and Ben had watched both times.

  James introduced him to the class and they nodded in silence. James chose Jordan and another boy to play Legos with him for an hour or so, but he had to usher Ben to the back of the class and sit him down on the carpet. He didn’t seem to know how to talk to children, and they played in silence for the most part, James unable to pay attention as he was teaching. When he got a break, he was amazed to see that Ben had helped them to construct a space rocket, of the type your saw in the fifties. Jordan wanted to put it on the shelf, and James said okay.

  Then he had Ben take a girl aside to do some reading with her. Then another boy. Then it was time for recess.

  “That’s it, then?” Ben said.

  “You want to go?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Not as easy as it looks, is it?”

  “I’m exhausted.