by J. M. Snyder
I talk about the few winters we spent Christmas here, and how the ice crisps along the shoreline in the cold weather. One time Ray tried to step out over it, just to prove he could, and the fool fell right into the freezing water below. Fortunately the creek isn’t too deep, and his coat was so big that he didn’t slip under the ice. My dad was with us—he hauled Ray out of the creek, sopping wet and crying, and my mom really laid into him after that. Me, I had nightmares for weeks of falling into the swirling waters. I always heard the same sickening crack of the ice, I could see the break, but I couldn’t manage to get to the shore fast enough, I always went down. I think sometimes I still have those dreams, though I don’t remember them—but I’ll wake shivering in the darkness, an irrational fear clawing at my throat, I can’t breathe…and I have to burrow into Dan’s arms, snuggle up against him in our bed until the feeling passes and I can sleep again.
While I speak, Dan plants kisses along my neck, my shoulder, my ear. He takes my earlobe between his teeth, bites down just enough to make me shiver in delight. I cup my hands around the back of his neck, shift into a more comfortable position on his lap, one that presses my crotch against his hard stomach, my knees on either side of his hips. His hands have worked their way beneath my shirt to rub at my back, his fingers cool on my warm skin, and I fight the urge to lay him back to the ground, straddle him like I did earlier, love him out here beyond the light where no one can see us, nothing but the creek keeping us company.
I could do it, too—I know a spot just upstream, not two yards from where we sit. A thicket hidden in the bushes, the perfect place for a stolen moment between lovers. I got my first blowjob in that thicket at fourteen, years ago but when I close my eyes that day comes back like it happened just this morning. I wanted a soda—Grosso’s keeps them near frozen in the summer, so cold that there are actual chunks of ice in the can when you first open it. I had fifty cents in my pocket, a gift from Aunt Evie. My plan was to walk down the street to the market for a soda, then hurry over to Stephen’s for…well, I wasn’t sure what for, but he was two years older than me and that first kiss behind the shed sure as hell wasn’t the last, and I was at an age where I couldn’t think of much more I’d rather do than lie on Stephen’s bed and let him pet me through the thin shorts I wore, until I ached so bad. I wasn’t in love with him, I knew that much, but he was the only guy I knew who wanted to touch and kiss me, and I thought maybe by the end of that summer, if he asked me to be his? I thought at the time that I might say yes.
Outside of Grosso’s stood a boy that I had never seen before, older than me, with wavy black hair, dark eyes, dark skin—he had some Native American in him, possibly Asian, I wasn’t sure which, and I couldn’t stop staring. He wore tight jeans that left nothing to the imagination, I could see every curve of his cock, already half-hard, and his ass was encased in smooth denim. He had a white mesh crop-top, which Dan laughs at when I tell him but this was the 80’s, Duran Duran was all the rage, these shirts were the style. I could see a flat stomach, ink around his navel that probably wasn’t a real tattoo, and black Converse hi-tops completed the outfit. When I passed him and entered the store, I told myself he wanted me. As I bought the soda, I knew I’d think of him later, when Stephen put his hand on my dick.
Back outside again, he really was looking at me, and he pushed away from the wall as I walked by, falling into step behind me. Change of plans, I thought, veering back the way I had come, towards Evie’s house. It wasn’t fear that coursed through me as he stayed a few feet back, and I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure he was following. I didn’t know what would happen—I was heading home, it wouldn’t be anything bad, I reasoned. If he tried to hurt me, I’d scream and a dozen cousins, aunts, and uncles would come running. This emotion roiling my blood? When I glanced back and saw his hand rub across the front of his jeans, I could’ve come from my excitement alone.
I skirted the house, found the path through the trees, followed it down to the creek, him behind me every step of the way. No one was in the water—we were alone, just him and me and neither of us had said anything yet. At the edge of the creek, I stopped. I had this thought that I’d turn and face him, maybe ask his name, maybe get to know him a bit, and if all went well, get a kiss or two in the bargain.
Only I turned to find him right up on me, suddenly so close that I couldn’t move, I’d fall into the creek if I stepped back. This close he didn’t look that much older—eighteen maybe, at the most. “Kid,” he breathed. He smelled of cloves and reminded me of going to the dentist for some reason. His hands twitched at his sides, brushed across the erection that strained his jeans, then dared to reach out to touch mine. I almost jumped from the sensation. “You want to make a buck?” he asked. He spoke in low whispers, as if afraid of being overheard. “Let me do you, real quick. What do you say?”
I didn’t know what he meant. “A buck?” I asked.
“Make it five,” he told me. He must’ve seen the confusion on my face because he explained, “Easy money, kid. Let me blow you and get off on it, I’ll give you five bucks. How can you say no to that?”
I didn’t think I could. A blowjob—my mind went numb, I had never had one before. With my heart beating in my throat, I led the way to the thicket upstream, a place I discovered earlier in the week. I came out there to jerk off, just because I liked the sun on my bare genitals, and it was so hard to find privacy in the house. The guy followed me, crawling into the space between the bushes and pushing me down as I sat up. “Lie back,” he said, his hands pulling down the front of my shorts and briefs in one motion. “Five dollars, kid. Easiest damn money you’ll every make.”
Expert hands encircled my shaft and I leaned back on the grass, gasping at the sensation. No one else had ever touched me there, not without the cover of clothing. Then a hot, wet mouth closed over me, oh Jesus I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t even moan to release the tumult of emotions building in me. Soft cheeks sucked at me, a tongue rasped down my length, saliva dripped onto my balls and I came with such force that I was sure I’d shoot out the back of this kid’s head. Two minutes, tops, that’s all it had to be, but he continued to suck at me long after I was finished, swallowing every last drop. I started to get hard again and thought maybe for five bucks I could at least give him another few minutes, but I heard Ray’s braying laughter and that scared the guy away. When he sat up, I saw the front of his jeans were stained dark where he had gotten off on it himself. “Maybe we can later,” I started, sure that we could do this again.
But he shook his head, his hair sticking to his face in sweaty strands. “Thanks,” he said, pulling a five dollar bill from his pocket. He wrapped it around my still-wet member, then tucked me back into my shorts before backing out of the thicket. The money felt like plastic crammed in my pants. “Thanks,” he said again, a grin on his damp lips, and then he was gone.
“How romantic,” Dan tells me now, and the nameless boy dissolves into the past, just another flickering memory that holds nothing to the flame of desire that Dan sets in me. He kisses me like he’s marking territory, tiny pecks around my neck, up my jaw, until his lips press to mine and he claims me completely. I moan into him, try to ease him to the ground, I want him all over again—“Shh,” he sighs.
His hands grasp my head to keep me still. “What?” I whisper. I can’t hear anything but the creek and the wind in the trees and our staggered breaths, our hearts beating in the night.
He puts his lips to my ear, and I feel his words more than hear them. “In the bushes,” he says. “Someone’s watching us.”
I try to stare into the darkness but see nothing. Dan covers my eyes with one hand and now I hear them, faint giggles, someone telling someone else to move over, she can’t see, the snap of a twig beneath sneakered feet. My cousins or their kids, sneaking to spy on us. I don’t know whether to laugh or chase them off.
“Keep kissing me,” Dan says. “Like they’re not there.”
I do as he says, tho
ugh it’s hard to pretend I can’t hear them, now that I know what to listen for. Still, I lose myself in his kisses, his hands, and the bolder children push to the front of the bushes for a better view. I lie Dan back and he rolls onto me, pinning me to the ground. I’m just about to suggest we take this inside when suddenly he leaps up from me and runs towards the trees, a ferocious roar escaping his throat.
Children squeal and race away, tripping over each other in their haste. Laughing, I push myself up from the ground and find Dan there to help me, his hands brushing the dirt from my pants and back. “You’re as bad as they are,” I say.
“I can be much worse,” he promises with a tender kiss.
Chapter 17: Among Adults
Dan chases the children back to the house, suddenly a child again himself. He holds tight to my hand and pulls me along after him, both of us laughing as we race into the safe circle of light. The tables are empty now, the game of horseshoes over, most of the kids inside at this hour. Only a few adults linger on the deck, smokers and some of the older teenagers, Caitlin among them. I don’t see my parents or Ray, but as we follow the kids up to the house, Aunt Billy catches my arm to stop us. “We’re moving into the living room,” she says, snubbing out her slim cigarette on the deck railing. “Give everyone a few minutes to get the children settled before we get started, what do you say?”
The living room is the gathering place in Evie’s house. For as far back as I can remember, the adults always retired there at the end of the day, pulling the French doors shut on their muffled talk and muted laughter, which stretched well into the night. When I was little, I would sneak out on the landing upstairs with my cousins, stick my legs through the railing, rest my head against the cool banister as I watched the closed doors, shafts of faint light shining between the slats, and wondered what went on in the living room after the children were sent to bed. Sometimes I could hear the TV—explosions from action films too violent for us to see, or a sappy romantic soundtrack when it was just the aunts in there. Once I asked my mom what they talked about that was so important they had to close the doors to keep the words inside. “Nothing important, Michael,” she told me, brushing off the question. “Just grown up stuff. Nothing you’d be interested in.”
But still, curiosity ate at me, and I would find any excuse to slip downstairs and knock on the doors, to interrupt them and see if maybe I would be invited to stay. “Mom, Ray’s kicking me,” I said one time, standing in the doorway and biting on the end of my thumb as I stared into the room. It was one of the few times I saw my dad’s arm around my mom’s shoulders. A few of my uncles sprawled on the floor like little boys. Penny sat on the couch between Billy and Sarah, and Aunt Evie was lying across the loveseat, her head resting in Bobbie’s lap as they watched a movie that I couldn’t see from where I stood. I heard kissing, though, so I knew it was probably something I didn’t want to see. Kissing wasn’t yet on my list of fun things to do at that age, and I was years away from meeting Dan. When my mom looked at me, her eyes flashed with anger or drink, I wasn’t sure which. “Under the covers,” I elaborated. It wasn’t quite a lie—Ray had been kicking me earlier, but I didn’t dare sneak downstairs until after he fell asleep, or he’d want to come, too. “He won’t stop.”
“Tell him I said to cut it out,” my mom sighed, exasperated.
“He won’t,” I started.
“Michael,” she warned. I could tell from her tone of voice that I was pushing it. Beside her, my dad added, “Get to bed, buddy.”
I didn’t move. Aunt Evie sat up and, pushing herself off the loveseat, admonished, “Leave him be, Harry.” With wide eyes, I watched her cross the room, until she loomed above me, and I let her take my hand. “Come on, Mikey. A glass of warm milk should set you right.”
“Ray—” I tried, peering around Evie into the living room.
Deftly she closed the door on the others and led me into the kitchen. “I’ll give him a talk,” she promised, her large hand easily enveloping mine. “If he keeps it up, I’ll just have to move him in with the girls. I don’t think he’ll like that much, do you?”
I always hoped that one day I’d be old enough to join my aunts in the living room—join Evie, with her quick wit and quiet humor, the way she had of talking that made you think everything was right in the world for that one moment in time, how she managed to see the good in everything around her, everyone. Should’ve come this summer, I think, struggling against the tears that fill my eyes. For the rest of my life, I’m going to think that, I just know it. If nothing else, it will be the one thing I’ll always regret. I came back to Sugar Creek too late.
It’s different in the house without Evie—despite the children running through the halls, the adults milling around, the endless chatter, the noisy prattle, the food set out on the kitchen table and countertops like a smorgasbord, there’s something missing, a hole in the midst of it all where Aunt Evie belongs. Here, with us. I’d give anything to see her smile again, to hear her laugh, to feel her generous hugs. I can almost feel her here, a ghost drifting through these crowded rooms. If I close my eyes, I can believe she’s just in the other room, she’ll call out to me, give me a bright smile, clap Dan on the back and tell me I picked out a keeper.
Sensing a sudden change in my mood, Dan eases an arm around my waist and asks, “Michael?” I blink away the emotions clawing at me, the pain in my heart, the sadness filling me, and try to grin. I don’t think I succeed—my lover frowns at my lame attempt and tells me, “If you’re not up for being social tonight, babe, I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“No, I’m fine.” I lean against him, thankful for his strong arms, his sure hands. Forcing a laugh, I admit, “I’ve been waiting years to get in on that room. I’m not giving up my chance, you know?”
He laughs and we shuffle along after the kids, heading inside the house. At the door, though, Caitlin sticks a foot out in our path to stop me. “Hey,” she says. In the fierce white light, I can tell she’s been crying.
“You okay?” I ask. I touch her cheek but she turns away. A number of young girls crowd around her as if she’s the most popular girl in school and they all want to stand right beside her. The oldest can’t be more than ten, my Uncle Tommy’s daughter Emily, who elbows her cousins aside to get up next to Caitlin. Nodding at the girls, I say, “You have a fan club.”
Caitlin rolls her eyes, and I can’t tell if that’s supposed to be good or bad. “Tell me about it,” she mutters. When one of the other girls tries to shove Emily aside, Caitlin pushes them all away like an angry mother bird trying to force her chicks out of the nest and into flight. “Keep off me,” she growls, and though the girls widen the space between them, they still hover like annoying mosquitoes. “Jesus. Don’t fucking crowd me.”
The girls giggle at the cuss word. Nudging Caitlin, I joke, “You’re the coolest thing they’ve probably seen in years, Cat. With your Goth-girl routine and my being gay, we’re the talk of this town, you know that, right?”
“I’m about to beat them down,” Caitlin threatens, and the girls back off another step or two. When Dan and I laugh, my sister asks, “You guys heading for the living room?” I nod. “I’ll be there as soon as I ditch the groupies.”
A twinge of jealousy stabs through me. “I never got in when I was your age,” I mutter.
“Like you’re so damn old,” she says, amid another flutter of giggles. Glaring at the girls, she asks, “Will you guys shut up? Not everything I say is a riot.” More giggles—she’s quite the hit among the preteen crowd. With a sigh, she shakes her head. “Were we adopted?” she asks suddenly. I laugh and she says, “No, seriously. You and I are the only half-sensible ones here.”
“We’re okay,” I tell her. “It’s everyone else.”
She nods. “I know!”
Around us the deck has cleared, most everyone inside now—just Caitlin and her little entourage, me and Dan, Aunt Billy and one or two others are left, cigarettes winking like fireflies in the n
ight. I start for the door again, intent on getting to the living room for a good spot on one of the sofas before the room fills up completely, when Caitlin steps on my foot to get my attention. When I look up at her, she shrugs and tells me, “Just wanted to say thanks. For covering for me this afternoon. In the car?”
She means when my parents drove past us. “No problem,” I say, but I feel my face heat up and my mouth can’t stop trying to pull into a self-depreciating grin. Suddenly I want to be the favorite brother, I want my little sister to like me best, no matter how bad that sounds. Then again, look at my competition. I could never say two words to her and I’d win over Ray hands down.
Dan pokes at my cheek. “You’ve made him blush,” he says, and that just deepens the color that burns my skin. My lover plants a quick peck in the spot below my eye where my jaw connects—that sets the girls to giggling again. He whispers into my ear, “You’re cute.”
“Damn,” Caitlin laughs. “You’re red as hell.”
I push past her into the house. “Hey everyone, it’s let’s pick on Michael night,” I mutter.
Dan holds onto my hand, trailing behind me as I shove my way through the people gathered in the kitchen. “Baby, wait,” he says. I don’t slow down, don’t stop. I can still hear those girls laughing at that kiss, I can see Caitlin’s smirk burning behind my eyes. Try to be nice, I think, and this is what you get. “Michael, hold up. Mike—”
And Dan stops in the middle of the hallway. I take another step only to find myself tugged back to him because he’s holding me tight. “She’s just playing,” he tells me, touching my face. Kids elbow around us and he pulls me to one side, out of the flow of traffic. Concern laces my lover’s face as he studies me. “Are you sure you’re up for this tonight? We can beg off if you want. Maybe you just need some rest.”
“I’m…” I run a hand down my face and sigh. “I’m fine,” I tell him. I am. Just…I don’t know. One minute I’m on top of the world, laughing and joking and everything’s fine, and then the next minute something stops me, some reminder that we’re here for Evie’s funeral, and it all comes crashing down around me again. “I’ll be okay,” I promise, leaning into Dan’s touch. I love his hand on my face, curved around my jaw, his fingers in my hair. “I’m fine.”