Common Sons

by Ronald Donaghe

  As the Reeces and Tom ate supper, Joel began to feel that things might look up. When he sorted it all out, it was pretty simple. They were still friends. They still had the rest of the summer, and it looked as though it would still be pretty good.

  When Eva began clearing the supper dishes, Tom pushed back his chair and surprised Joel by jumping up and taking the dishes from her. “No, Mrs. Reece, Joel and I will do these. It was a great meal! You and Mr. Reece go relax.”

  She smiled. “Why thanks, honey!” She squeezed Joel’s shoulders.

  “Well, don’t just sit there, Joel! You heard the man! Scoot!”

  * * *

  Later, when they were in his room, Joel said, “You know, your father’s sermon sounded like it was directed at us.”

  But Tom laughed. “That’s what you’re supposed to think. That’s why Father is such a powerful preacher. He gets me every time.”

  “Gets you?”

  Tom was leaning against the wall near the door. He picked up a magazine off Joel’s desk, flipped a few pages, and set it down. He looked hesitant. Joel watched him. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his shirt off, barefooted and hugging the knee of one leg, swinging the other leg over the edge of the bed. “What, Tom? C’mon. No more stalling, okay?”

  Tom sighed. “All right.” He came over and sat down by Joel and put his hand on Joel’s leg. Joel was surprised at his old gesture, but didn’t dare comment on it. Then, just as casually, without noticing that he had done it, Tom took his hand away. “It’s just that Father always manages to get to me. I should be used to his sermons. He practices at home, for God’s sake! He goes over some phrases again and again, but up there in his pulpit his sermons take on power. Today, I’d already decided to do what I did.in church. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I did it so he would leave me alone.” He smiled sadly at Joel. “He pestered me all week about everything. His sermon got to me, and I think I went up to the front of the church in part because of him. At the last minute, I went blank. I didn’t know what I was doing until I wound up at the front! Joel, that scared me.”

  Joel shrugged. “Well, sometimes when I look back on things, I see I did ‘em without thinking.”

  “No, Joel.”

  Tom looked funny, his eyes almost as glazed now as they had been on alcohol. Joel shuddered, feeling that Tom was going weird again. But he couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I was a wreck when you showed up at the church last weekend, so soon after…I wasn’t angry at you, but at what we did. I acted stupid and mean. But couldn’t help it. I wanted to call you, Joel, but Father made me wait. It’s a game of his, but this time I couldn’t explain what it was and so I had to just…I couldn’t stand knowing you were thinking I didn’t care. But I do. I had to act like nothing was wrong all week, that every day I was feeling better and better. So I decided to go through that ritual of repentance.” He smiled weakly. “I’m really sorry. I’m a coward.”

  “Pete said you ‘got the Call’ or something. Mrs. Hoffins, Coach’s wife, said you were asking forgiveness when you did that.”

  “You talked about this? With JoAnna Hoffins, the counselor?”

  “Mainly the coach, Tom. I couldn’t tell Mom and Dad.”

  “You trust him, don’t you? What did he say?”

  “Trust him? Yeah. Why not? He didn’t say much, and he didn’t tell me it was wrong or right. He said everybody hates queers.”

  After an awkward silence, Tom said, “Joel, I wasn’t as drunk as you thought the other night. I knew what I was doing.”

  “Then you remember kissing me in front of everybody?”

  “No! I don’t! I’m sorry, Joel.” He got up and began pacing the room. “They all saw us? Oh, man…all I remember is sitting next to you thinking how good it felt. You had your arm around me and.” He stopped and stared at Joel. “But how did we get out?”

  “It wasn’t easy. I had to drag you. Everybody was crowding around like you wouldn’t believe. I guess it was quite a show. We just bulldozed our way out. Everybody was laughing at us, but they were too shocked to do anything.” He laughed. “It wasn’t very funny, really. I’ll be surprised if we ever live it down.”

  Tom shoved his hands deep into his Levi’s and squeezed his arms into his chest, a pose he usually assumed as a defense against the jitters. Joel had seen him do it a lot in school before big tests. His eyes were shadowed under the bright overhead light. His face was a blank. He paced back and forth, and Joel waited. Finally he stopped. “Look Joel, I want to tell you something.”

  The way he said it without a hint of humor made Joel more afraid, apprehensive. “Okay,” he said.

  Tom squeezed his arms tighter against himself. He sat down and put his hands between his knees. He took a deep breath and looked at Joel. “I am a homosexual. I admit it. Even before we met, I knew I was.”

  “The whole time?”

  Tom held up his hand. “Yes, but I thought I could beat it. You don’t know how hard I’ve tried. You can’t imagine. When I went up to the pulpit, I faced it, Joel. Of course, God knew. But I finally faced it myself. And when we were praying. I didn’t ask forgiveness. I just said ‘Okay, God, I give up. Now what?’” His voice cracked. “And after church, I was swarmed with elders and deacons wanting to pray with me. But the whole time, I just kept repeating it over and over. I guess I wanted God to tell me what His will is. I just can’t choose by myself. And I came out here for you to tell me what you want. You understand?”

  Joel was stunned. He looked down at his feet, felt Tom’s eyes on him. “You’re saying it’s between God and me? Forget it! I don’t believe in your God.”

  “I know. You’ve got a real blind spot when it comes to that.”

  “And you’re blind when it comes to reality, if you ask me.”

  “That isn’t fair! Who’s to say what’s real?”

  Joel sat up next to Tom and wrapped his arms around him. “Do you feel me?” He took Tom’s hand and forced his palm open and held it under the left nipple on his chest. Tom’s hand was warm and moist. “Feel my heart?”

  “It’s beating fast, like mine.”

  “It’s pumping blood all through my body to my muscles, my head. I’m just flesh and blood, man. That’s real.” He let go of Tom’s hand. He leaned back and looked at him. Their eyes met. “But there’s no choice for me. I want you, because I love you. I don’t ask anybody’s permission. I just do. And that’s real. You know, when we started kissing I was surprised, but that’s all. I liked it, and I realized that it was what we should be doing. I didn’t know I was queer, like you say you knew. Maybe I did, in the back of my mind. But I do now. I’m a homosexual, too. I don’t give a shit what you or anybody thinks, either.” Joel took a deep breath. He had to say how it was to Tom, had to let him know what conclusion he had reached. “But if your church and God are more important than I am, man, we can’t even be friends.”

  “What?” Tom sat up, looking stricken. His face was unbearably pained. “Don’t say that, Joel!”

  This time Joel got up and began pacing back and forth out of his need to get Tom to understand. “Night before last, I went out to a keg party.” He shuddered with anger at the thought, and told Tom what had happened. “I wanted to fight them, but it would’ve been stupid to, because they weren’t worth it. Nobody said anything to my face, see, but they’re convinced we’re queers. They were talking it up before I got there. Don’t you think everybody will if we hang around together, whether we do anything queer or not?”

  “It won’t matter,” Tom said, still looking distressed. “We can go on just as before.”

  “No we can’t, Tom! Because in this town, if people see us together.it automatically ruins our reputations. I don’t give a fuck, but if you want to stay on God’s side, you have to ditch me. If you don’t, man, your father will find out, and even he will think the same thing.”

  Tom squeezed his arms between his legs nervously. “God.”

  Joel sat d
own and put his arm across Tom’s shoulders, fighting the urge to kiss him. “I’m sorry, Tom. It’s the kind of problem we have. I just remember this guy who went to the same school I did. He was a sissy and got teased all the time. He couldn’t get away from all their teasing, and then in high school, people started calling him a queer, just because he was a sissy. He never could live it down. And any guy that’s stupid enough to hang around with him is going to be called a queer, too. I’m not kidding. So, if your church is as important as you say, man, you have to ditch me, or suffer the consequences.”

  “Is that what you want now, Joel?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  Tom looked at him seriously for a moment. Then he sighed, slumped forward, and let his head hang. “I think I am, Joel.”

  Joel thought about the psychology notes. “Look, if you want, we can just be friends. But we won’t get away with it, because of what people will say.” He laughed. “It’s hilarious! You say it’s a sin.” He picked up the sheets of notebook paper and laid them in Tom’s lap. “And this guy says we’re sick. You don’t have to choose. Somebody else will.”

  * * *

  For hours, Tom lay awake in Joel’s bed. Neither of them had considered changing their old routine, and the Reeces never thought anything of them sleeping together. Joel had once told him that when they visited relatives, the bed space decided where everybody would sleep. He told him that the boys always slept together. “I woke up one morning,” he said, “and there were three cousins in bed with me. During the night, when I was asleep, my aunt and uncle brought their three boys, and instead of fixing them a pallet on the floor in the living room, Dad bet Uncle Sean he could sneak ‘em all in my bed before I woke up. I slept right through it.” Tom had laughed about that, telling Joel that his relatives always rented motel rooms. He had never even slept in the same room with another guy.

  Tonight, when Joel slipped into bed next to him, Tom said, “I’m nervous,” and laughed.

  Joel looked genuinely puzzled. “But why? I’m not gonna do anything to you.”

  Tom didn’t answer. He didn’t want to admit that tonight was like the first time he had spent the night with Joel all over again. Then as now, the light in the room seemed unnaturally glaring. Just as they had the first time, Joel’s shoulders, his naked back and chest, his thighs—even his shorts, which were supposed to cover his nakedness—aroused Tom almost more than he could stand. The very pain of lying next to Joel was pleasure beyond relief.

  It was impossible to sleep. Long after Joel had gone to sleep, Tom lay awake, thinking. “It’s the end of our old friendship,” he whispered to himself, finally. What Joel said about choosing, that was right. Oh, maybe he could go to church and carry on as if nothing had changed, but if Joel was right about what people would think, he knew he would eventually have to choose. But how could he choose anything that would put a barrier between them?

  As if in answer, Joel rolled against him. Tom felt his body’s heat, the inviting warmth, but couldn’t reach out. He couldn’t move away either, so he lay still, his heart beating rapidly. In his sleep, Joel rolled back to his side of the bed just as suddenly. Not until near dawn was Tom able to fall asleep.

  CHAPTER 8

  Monday, June 7

  “Sandstorm didn’t do it much good. Look here,” Douglas said. Joel knelt down where his father had dug out a small cotton plant. The dirt on the row bed was crusty, but just below the surface it was still moist and dark. The plant looked scorched, blasted. The edges of the leaves were ragged, but its stem and roots were healthy. In the heat of the morning sun, the plants were wilting a little. They moved down the rows, stopping every two hundred feet or so, sampling the plants. When they had stopped for the third time, Joel knew what to look for.

  Now he dug up a handful of the little plants and felt the stalks for firmness. Most of them were moist and firm between his thumb and forefinger; only a few felt dead. “Looks pretty good, Dad.” Joel said. He squinted down where his father was pushing soil back into place.

  “I guess it’ll do. Maybe a little thin.” He dusted his hands. “Unseasonal weather. Can’t tell how it’ll turn crops. If we don’t have no more, we might do all right.”

  They drove around the field to the ditch line and stopped to check the irrigation. The rows were soaking up the water, taking a little more than usual because of the sandstorm. But doing fine,

  Douglas said. They stood on the ditch bank gazing out across the field. “See those weeds, Joel?”

  Joel looked where his father indicated. The weeds gave the field an uneven look, growing a few inches above the tops of the cotton plants. They were easy to spot, attracting attention to themselves in their riotous, chaotic growth among the more uniform, organized rows of cotton.

  “Cultivation’ll get ‘em this time. We can start that maybe Wednesday. We’ll give the land a little while to dry out after this round of irrigation so we can get the tractor in the field.”

  When they finished checking the crop for damage, they went to the cow shed. They tied the tarp back over the haystack where the wind had whipped up the corners. Joel handed Douglas bailing wire and watched him put the neat wire twists in the tarp holes. Then they drove more cedar posts into the ground around the haystack and wired the tarp down securely. The cows came up to the fence where they were working, and Joel scratched them on the head. His father chuckled at the cows and climbed the fence into the pig pen. The pigs grunted and lay down under the roof in the shade, watching him refill their water trough.

  “Not much damage anywhere,” Douglas said as they left the livestock area. “Guess we’re just going to have an unpredictable summer.” He looked heavenward and Joel followed his gaze.

  The sky was piercing blue, not a cloud. Toward the mountains in the east, it was almost white from the heat of the rocks. Joel turned a full circle looking at the sky. Beautiful. He let his eyes wander down the stark face of the Florida Mountains, traveling along the crevices where the shadows played. He was happy looking at the serene faces of the unshakable, massive giants. He turned back to his father. “So now what?”

  “Not much for a few days, Son. We’ll just keep on irrigating like before, put the cultivator to ‘er, and go from there.”

  “Son?”

  They were walking back to the house. Douglas threw his arm over Joel’s shoulder.

  Joel tried to match his father’s stride. He watched his feet, then skipped to get the same step. “What?”

  “Oh, nothing much. I was just wondering how Tom is; after last night, I mean.”

  Joel looked at his father, appreciated his concern. He felt lucky, even if he couldn’t confide everything. “He’s okay, Dad. You helped him.”

  Douglas laughed quietly, then squeezed Joel’s shoulder, almost till it hurt. “Damnedest thing, Son. I never could get it straight exactly what he was talking about. He mentioned church, and said he was sorry he missed you. He asked me if I thought you’d be mad at him.” His arm left Joel’s shoulder and he squinted. “And you were.”

  “Yeah.” Joel dropped his eyes. “I was mad. But it’s okay now, really. I’m still mad about a few things, but I think I see what Tom’s problems are like.”

  “Good.”

  They walked on, then Joel said, “Dad?”

  “Uh huh?”

  “It’s his religion. Why do people rake themselves over the coals when they haven’t done anything? It seems like, you know, it takes away their chance to make natural mistakes. People aren’t so bad they can’t tell right from wrong, are they?”

  Douglas shook his head. “Some people are, Joel. But then, of course, religion wouldn’t do ‘em much good.” He chuckled. “One thing, though.”

  “What?”

  “That father of his, the preacher.”

  “What? Did he do something to him?”

  “Wouldn’t let him call you! That don’t make sense, does it? How you going to fight with a guy if you can’t get close enough to hit him? The
gist of it is he couldn’t see you until he told his old man what was eatin’ him.”

  “I know. That’s why I can’t understand how he could take religion like that. The thing that bothers Tom is he thinks he needs it.”

  “Aw, he’s not a bad sort, that Tommy. But if he was raised with a strict father, it would take a powerful will to figure out he’s not a rotten kid.”

  Joel told him Tom had made a spectacle of himself, going up in front of the church. “And those old biddies enjoyed seeing the preacher’s son, of all people, repent. Least that’s what it looked like to me.”

  Douglas nodded with understanding. “Well, that won’t do him no harm maybe, if he feels like he needs to get approval for feeling lousy. I guess that’s partly what his religion’s all about. Your mother and I have gone around to a few churches, but seems like the basic decency gets lost squabbling over who’s gonna be head honcho, more than everybody settling down to worship.”

  “Amen to that,” Joel said.

  “Another thing.I don’t think Tom likes his father too much, especially right now.”

  “But he loves his father, Dad.”

  “I don’t doubt it. That’s only natural, you know. At least at his age. But he doesn’t much like him. He didn’t have to say so. I could tell. I think he’s even a little afraid of him.”

  “Is that what he said?”

  Douglas laughed loudly. They stopped by the front porch. He turned Joel around to face him, putting both hands on his son’s shoulders. “If you were talking about me to somebody, would you call me Mr. Reece? Or Dad?”

  “Dad, of course.”

  “That’s what struck me funny, Son. Tom can’t seem to decide what his father is to him. I’d never call my father by his last name. I’d say ‘Dad’ or ‘Father’ and sometimes maybe ‘my old man.’” He winked at Joel. “Huh? But Tom kept saying ‘Mr. Allen,’ like he was afraid to call him his dad. I think that’s too much respect, and not enough like.”