by Sam Elswit
“Done already?” he asked.
“Yep,” I shouted back, still breathing heavily.
Isaiah looked me up and down before replying.
“I’ll be out in a minute, just gotta pay,” he lied.
My heart was ready to explode in my chest. I hadn’t run that fast in a long time and in boots no less. I made a promise to myself never to get myself involved in anyone else’s business ever again. Isaiah was gay, and I wasn’t. There was no reason for me to be jealous of Phillip.
I needed to clear my head. I wanted to go back to the old river where I used to swim every summer. I wondered if the old tire swing was still hanging, waiting to be used yet again. Thinking of that old swimming hole was all I could do to stay sane right now, when all I wanted was to be held.
Chapter 9
Isaiah
The sun stood high in the sky. The field work was finished in short order, leaving only the busy work left. I returned to the picket fence in the front yard which was barely a quarter of the way done. I was glad to have the moment of respite away from Joshua and his father to collect my thoughts.
“Want a hand?” I heard Joshua say from the porch.
“I think I’ll be fine,” I replied, hoping he’d get the hint, but I wasn’t so lucky. He stepped down to join me on the ground.
“It’ll go much faster with another pair of hands. Plus, staying cooped up in that house is driving me crazy,” he added. I exhaled what I could of my frustration and gave him a nod. He tugged on a pair of work gloves he had in his back pocket and joined me.
I couldn’t get his face out my head. The moment earlier today still spooked me, and I was reticent to talk about anything at all. With every strike of the mallet, I felt my hands grow numb from the vibration. Yet another sensation that reminded me of earlier today. I shifted uncomfortably where I stood, pausing to stand upright and crack my back.
“Did you want a turn at it?” I asked. Without a response, he grasped the handle. His gloved hand brushed past my own. For a second I didn’t release my grip, but then remembered myself.
“So, you know a bit about me, anything you can tell me about you?” he asked. I worried for a second that he really had heard me talking to Phillip inside the stock room of the grocery store. I was still suspicious that he’d been listening in. I couldn’t exactly prove it was him, and talking about it might set him off. I would rather leave it something like that unsaid.
“I grew up in a small town, just like here,” I said, “wasn’t too far away either.”
“What made you move out here,” he asked with a coy smirk. I didn’t have a clue as to why he was smiling.
“A man has his reasons,” I replied, “can’t stay home forever, right?”
“I suppose not,” he said, “not like I’m anyone to talk.”
He hammered at the stake with all the force he could muster. No doubt Joshua was an attractive man in the city. His soft muscles would have made for a good trophy boyfriend. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing down at his tight fitting jeans and how he just barely managed to fill them out. Even though he was working hard, he didn’t have a belt on to hold them up, so with each strike at the stake they slipped lower and lower until he had to pause to pull them back up.
“Most of the farms around the old homestead were being bought up by the big farmers,” I said, breaking the silence as I tried to snap myself from my delusion, “Barely any real farmers left.”
Josh ran his sleeved arm against his forehead to wipe off the beaded sweat. I had to bite my lip as I watched him.
“It’s the same around here, no doubt,” he pointed south down the road, “Used to be a small factory farm out that way. But, it looks like they’ve pushed up practically to this doorstep. No doubt when the old man finally goes I’ll sell off to them.”
I’d forgotten that this wasn’t a permanent home. I started to enjoy waking up in the morning to do the chores. The old house felt more like home every day. The thought of losing this little refuge from the rest of the world was a devastating thought.
“You wouldn’t really sell to them, would you?” I asked.
“They haven’t made an offer, but I wouldn’t doubt we’d get one any day now,” he said, “Plus, I could use the money from this place to pay off my student loans and maybe get a nice condo in the city.”
I opened my mouth to reply but words didn’t come. Instead I just fell silent. It wasn’t my place to decide what he did with his family property.
“I suppose that’s for the best,” I finally said.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t miss parts of it,” he added. He stopped his work to pull up his jeans again, only to lean against the mallet. “There was this old woman just up the road, Mrs. Denton. She used to make the best pies.”
“She still does,” I said, “She came by just the other day before you came in. There’s still some rhubarb pie waiting.”
“Hot damn does that bring me back,” he said, “I wonder what the river is like right now.” He stopped himself for a second as though he said something he shouldn’t have.
“River?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, the cat was already out of the bag, “It’s a bit of a secret spot for the locals. It’s pretty deep and makes for some good swimming.”
“I never really learned,” I said.
“It’s not hard,” he replied quickly, “plus you could probably stand up in the river just fine.”
I chuckled under my breath. Was he trying to convince me to go swimming?
“I was thinking about checking it out,” he added, “If you’re bored of all this busy work, you should come.”
“That sounds fun,” I don’t know what came over me. “I don’t have a suit though.”
“That’s fine, just hop in your underwear if you’re that worried,” he said. He returned to the work hastily. The crash of the mallet became hypnotic. Before I realized, he’d driven the stake in too far. I reached up to stop him by grabbing the hammer but got too close and ended up tripping, falling over him and into the shade of the sycamore.
I lingered with my arm still covering the side of his body. His scent was intoxicating and his warmth was inviting. He made no effort to move for a second, possibly in shock or rattled from the fall. I rolled off him quickly.
“That’s far enough,” I said, gesturing to the stake as I leaned into a sitting position. He rolled onto his back and lifted his head to look.
“I suppose so,” he replied.
I felt like an idiot.
Chapter 10
Joshua
Isaiah and I walked beside each other. My mind was in ten different places so I let my feet take me where I needed to go. They knew the path; I’d walked it so many times during the day and the night. Even after these three years, nothing had changed.
I had no idea what to say to Isaiah in the slightest. My body was still warm with the sensation of his arm wrapped around me. What was I supposed to talk about? Should I ask him why he lingered so long? I was beyond frustrated.
“This is it up ahead,” I said finally, pointing at a row of trees that lined the edge of the river. The branches reached toward the river, begging for the water that waited just out of reach. On the tallest of the trees, on the thickest branch it offered, hung an old rope and attached at the bottom was an old tire that suspended itself over the slow moving water.
I increased my speed as the memories flooded back to me. The towel tucked under my arm was the first thing to go. I tossed it aside into a nearby patch of crab grass; then kicked off my boots while tearing my shirt off my torso. Isaiah watched closely and I felt embarrassed. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my friends and I never really swam in suits in the river. What if he got the wrong idea?
“Aren’t you getting in too?” I asked. He jumped like he just remembered himself. He started to strip down as well, tossing his things on the towel beside mine until all the remained were his tight clinging boxer briefs. I knew what
was waiting on the other side of that thin strip of material. Would it really matter if he took them off?
My breath quickened. I felt my manhood begin to swell. In an act of desperation I sprinted towards the tire swing.
“Check this out!” I shouted. I leapt from the dirt embankment as hard as I could; reaching out to grasp the tire swing. When my arms found their target, I held on tightly. The swing held firm as I gained a little more height and flew into the middle of the river.
The chill of the water blasted through my body. The wind was knocked out of me. As my head shot from the water I gasped for a fresh breath of air. My hands worked fast to push the water from my face. My wet hair clung to my face only to be brushed back.
Isaiah stood at the edge of the embankment, his hands around his hips as he took in the sight.
“Jump!” I shouted. I was glad to be in the water. The chill had calmed my unintentional erection.
“You’ll make sure I don’t drown, right?” he shouted.
“Just do it, you’ll be fine!” I shouted back. He shrugged and backed up a ways to get a running start. I half-walked, half-swam out of his way. Only my upper chest stayed above the water line when I stood on the pebble bottom of the river.
He began to sprint. I saw everything in slow motion. The way is body moved was breathtaking, as though watching an animal hunt its prey. He leapt out and grasped hold of the tire swing, but not knowing he was supposed to let go, he started to go backwards. I laughed at the fear that must have been gripping him. As the swing started going back toward the water, he let go, plopping in the water.
I started making my way toward him. His sloshed around in the water but it seemed he was having a problem finding his footing. I reached out and took him by the arm to calm him down. He stopped splashing and managed to find his out of the water. I led him to the shallows so he could regain his composure.
“That looked pretty good,” I said, laughing, “You’re a real natural.”
He shook the water from his head, then smacked at the side of his head to get the water out. The grimace on his face was betrayed by the smile forming at the corner of his mouth.
“Natural?” he asked, standing to his full height. He was only slightly taller than me, but he was intimidating in his stature.
“Maybe with a little more practice,” I said, trying to get myself away. He started chasing after me in the water. It was clear that I was the stronger swimmer, but he was the stronger man. Before I could get too far, his hand caught me by the wrist. I tried to pull away but his grip was just too strong.
“I’ll show you practice,” he said. He pulled me toward him as he took his first step out of the water. I playfully tried to twist and wrest myself from his grasp. He pried me from the water, dragging me across the dry dirt of the embankment. He stretched my arm over his head, falling to the ground behind me with one arm between my neck and my shoulder and the other under my arm to keep me from getting away. His legs twisted tight around my legs to pin me to the ground.
“This is how we used to have fun back where I’m from,” he said. Free of the icy water of the river, I felt my member beginning to swell against all my urging. His manhood pressed against the small of my back. I stopped struggling. I didn’t want to leave his grip. But, like an animal that caught its prey, he lost interest and released me.
He pushed me off, and I rolled to my stomach to hide my throbbing erection. What was I supposed to say, and why did he let me go so easily? It was clear that he felt something for me. But, what did I really feel for him?
I watched the water drip from his wet boxers as he toweled off the mud from his back. He glanced back at me and forced a smile. He tugged on his jeans.
“I gotta get dinner started,” he said, “I’ll meet you back at the house.” He started walking back barefoot, his shoes in one hand and shirt in the other. I waited until he was out of sight before I finally rolled over.
I stared at my dick poking out through the top of my underwear.
“What the hell is wrong with you,” I said quietly. I climbed into the sun to dry and think about what just happened. I didn’t know what was wrong with me at all. All my life I knew I was straight. I’d had girlfriends. Now I wasn’t so sure. Something about Isaiah was pulling me in and I couldn’t deny it any longer. Was it at all possible that I really had feelings for him?
I couldn’t stop thinking about him. My arm stretched out toward the sun, the shade of my hand covering my face. The sting of the mornings work still vibrated through my hand. My eyes closed for a moment and the only image I could see was that of Isaiah. His ridiculous smile had infected me.
My free hand reached down into my boxers, grasping firm at my dick that still poked toward the sky. So many new feelings welled up deep in my chest. I slowly stroked the length of my shaft, I was proud of what I had to offer. I knew I was bigger than most men, or at least that’s what my girlfriends used to say.
I pictured their faces but felt nothing for them. Their smooth bodies couldn’t hold a candle to Isaiah. He was as hard as a rock with hands wrought from shoe leather. When he held you, there was no escape. Or at least I didn’t want to.
Without realizing I had started to stroke myself harder. Continuing to think about Isaiah was an aphrodisiac that sent my mind reeling with delight. Was I ready to try being with a man? I was so conflicted. Would he even want me? I was a strong man. Maybe he preferred smaller, softer men.
What was I doing? Why was I even considering this? My hand worked feverishly, beating me closer and closer to orgasm. I could already feel the welling inside of my balls begging for release. I tried to think of the women that wooed me in the past. I thought of anything that might try to help me overcome these odd emotions that had taken hold. In the end, the only thing that brought me any pleasure was the sight of Isaiah’s back as he drove in the stake for the fence, or of him jumping into the river with only a skimpy pair of underwear.
I was stuck. I felt the trigger release inside and a powerful orgasm wracked through my body. Every impulse I had was telling me that I needed to be closer to Isaiah. But, what about his lover, Phillip? I wasn’t about to be with someone still in a relationship. Dammit, why is everything so damn complicated. I should have just stayed at school.
I lied in the sun, letting its rays dry me and help me come to my senses. Even if I wanted to start something here, there were too many factors that I couldn’t account for; too many things in motion that couldn’t be stopped. One more year of school, that was all that remained. If I worked hard, maybe, just maybe I could come back as the victor. Then maybe Isaiah would hold me again.
Chapter 11
Isaiah
I was just about to walk upstairs with food when Joshua came walking through the front door. His shirt was disheveled, almost as much as his hair; his boots were still in his hand, wrapped in a wet towel.
“Evenin’” I said.
He nodded and marched up the stairs, dirt followed each footstep which I knew I’d need to be cleaning up later.
I knew I went too far at the river. My body yearned for more from him, but there was no way I’d get it now. It was probably for the best that I went back to just being the house caretaker and him the ungrateful son. I couldn’t even get mad at him anymore. It had only been two days and I was banging my head against a wall trying to set my mind straight.
I followed up the stairs to join them in the old man’s bedroom. Bart was awake, staring at the television. Joshua was standing beside the window this time, staring out at the neighboring fields. As usual I sat the tray on the dresser.
“Did you take your meds,” I asked.
“Of course,” the old man replied. I checked the timer again, made sure it was set like always and returned to my server duties. I handed Bart a bowl of chili, then held one out for Joshua, who took it with a nod.
I took the seat beside Bart and nervously chomped at my dinner. Joshua didn’t look away from the window. I wanted to find out wha
t was on his mind after this afternoon, but no matter which words came to me, I knew none would be right.
“You two are quiet,” the old man stated the fact.
“Not much to say,” I informed him.
“There’s plenty to say, it just looks like neither of you want to talk about it.” Joshua glanced back. I caught his gaze for a second, I could see that his mind was trying to scream something at me but I didn’t know what. His head turned and his eyes followed as he stared back out the window.
“Will, since both of you are being such boring little shits, I might as well tell you the story about when Matty and I fell in love,” Bart continued.
“You told that the other night,” I said.
“No, that was when we first met. Falling in love is a different story altogether,” he quipped.
I again looked to Joshua; he didn’t look back at all this time. He chowed lazily on his chili which cooled quickly in his hand. My attention fell back to the old man.
“Matty and I went on a few dates, you see. I was already head over heels for her, but she still had yet to figure it out for herself. It was a Friday night, I remember that much. I invited her out to the river where you kids always like to swim,” he said, focusing his last statement on Joshua.
“Well, I had just bought that old truck out front and was keen to show it off. I drove over to her house and picked her up. She was wearing some of her Sunday best this time. I had steeled myself, that would be the night that I’d finally kiss her.”
“Ha, that many dates and you hadn’t even kissed yet?” I wondered.
“It was a different time,” he replied, “Besides; it means more when something isn’t given away so freely.”
I withdrew my statement, returning to my chili as he continued with his story.
“She lived a ways away, so it was a while before we arrived at the riverside. I took her out and with my dad’s old knife I carved our initials in the biggest tree I could find. We talked for a while, I was nervous as all hell. My hands were sweating through my trousers.”