Until It's Time To Go

by Connie Bailey

  “Right.” Isaac unplugged the little external drive from the laptop and dropped it into his pocket. “I guess I’ll get going, then.” He picked up his keys, detached one of the four on the ring, and held it out to Laith. “This is to the patio door,” he said. It wasn’t easy, but Isaac let go of the key.

  Chapter 4

  IT WAS Isaac’s fastest shopping trip on record. He pulled into his driveway and parked next to the shiny black Porsche 928. Snatching the grocery bags out of the backseat of the Volvo, he dashed into the house. After all, you couldn’t be too careful with meat that had been refrigerated. Dropping the bags on the kitchen counter, he looked around for Laith and Colby. When a shout didn’t bring them out of hiding, Isaac put the hamburger in the fridge and walked into the living room. He called out again with no answer. Sliding open the glass door, he went out to the deck.

  “Laith!” he shouted from the railing.

  “Down here,” Laith called back. “I wanted to show Colby the stream.”

  “You’ve got time,” Isaac said. “I’m going to make the burgers.”

  Colby and Laith came up the trail as Isaac was putting the patties on the grill.

  “Can I get one of those?” Colby said, pointing to the beer in Isaac’s hand.

  “In the fridge. Help yourself.”

  “Grab me one too,” Laith said.

  “Nice try,” Isaac said. “While I myself don’t see the harm in a beer or two at your age, I know your mother doesn’t share my views. Out of respect for her, I have to say no.”

  “Worth a try. I’m going to take a quick shower, okay?”

  “There’s a bathroom in your room.”

  “Um, I didn’t exactly pack for the trip. I’ve got some spare clothes in a bag in Mama Ky’s car, but I didn’t think about shampoo and whatnot.”

  “Use mine,” Isaac said.

  “Thanks.”

  Laith went in as Colby came out with two bottles of beer.

  “I thought you might be ready for another,” Colby said.

  Isaac drained the dregs of the bottle in his hand and took the one Colby offered. “Thanks. It’s been a long day.”

  “Anything I can do to help with dinner?”

  “It’s under control. This isn’t my first barbecue.”

  “Do you have time to talk about Laith behind his back?”

  “What?”

  “He didn’t exactly say it was a secret, but…. Did you know Laith’s gay?”

  “He never mentioned it,” Isaac managed to say.

  “We got to talking down by the brook, and he told me why he ran away. The kids at his school pick on him, but he’s too embarrassed to say anything about it.”

  “He told you this after knowing you for a few hours?”

  “I think you’re missing the point.” Colby took the slotted spatula from Isaac’s hand. “Here, let me take over. I’m a backyard burger wizard.”

  “Sorry, I’m a little preoccupied.” Isaac took a slug of his beer. “I need to find a way to bring this up so he doesn’t know I talked to you.”

  “The kid’s shrewd. I think he’ll figure it out no matter what you say.”

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  “He needs help.” Colby kept his eyes on the burgers as he talked. “I think it was easier for him to tell a stranger his problems, but he needs his family to get him through this.”

  “What makes you an expert?”

  “There was a time when I really needed my family, and they weren’t there. I don’t want to see someone else go through what I did.”

  “I’m not thrilled to have you involved in my personal life, but I was sincere when I thanked you for telling me what’s bothering Laith.”

  Colby turned from the fire. “Why won’t you let me like you?”

  “It’s not just you.” Isaac frowned. “And we’re not talking about me.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Laith asked.

  He’d changed into ragged jeans and a faded T-shirt, and brought the smell of soap with him. Some of the shiny deep purple had washed out of his hair, turning it a soft violet. Plopping down at the picnic table, he stared up at Isaac.

  “We were talking about you,” Colby said. “Do you want your burger rare, medium, or well done? Speak now, because rare is rapidly becoming a thing of the past.”

  “I like mine charred,” Laith said. “At least I did when I was little. Haven’t had anything but a couple of fast-food burgers since then.”

  “You remember those barbecues at the Meiers’?” Isaac asked.

  “Every Fourth of July and Easter.” Laith sipped from a bottle of water. “I can still taste Mrs. Meier’s warm potato salad. Never had it fixed like that again.”

  “Do you remember Callie and Denver?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Callie works for the director of the movie I’m working on. I meant to tell you before we left the set, but I got distracted.”

  “How’d she turn out?”

  “She’s pretty, like her mom. Smart. Doesn’t take any crap.”

  “What about Denver?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t asked her.”

  “Might be interesting to find out. He was a strange kid.”

  “I never noticed.”

  “You’re kidding! He wouldn’t even pee in the woods.”

  “And that makes him strange?”

  “Kind of,” Colby interjected. “What guy doesn’t love hanging his dick out in the breeze?”

  Isaac shot Colby a look.

  “What?” Colby said. “Laith’s sixteen. He’s heard the word dick before.”

  “I’m not used to having underage people around,” Isaac said. “And I’m afraid of his mother.”

  “Relax, Uncle Zee,” Laith said. “I can keep a secret.”

  “You haven’t called me Uncle Zee since you were six.”

  “I haven’t exactly seen you much in the last ten years.”

  “I haven’t wanted to see anyone much in the last ten years.”

  “Because Steve died, right?”

  “Not just because of his death,” Isaac said, very aware that Colby was listening. “Can we talk about this when we’re alone?”

  “Sure.” Laith slouched in his seat. “We have any munchies?”

  “Why don’t you help me carry the rest of the food out while Colby dishes up the burgers?”

  Laith and Isaac brought out the buns, lettuce, tomatoes, and assorted condiments along with plates and flatware. After everything was laid out, Isaac saw he’d forgotten napkins and sent Laith back into the kitchen for them. Laith put a folded napkin under each plate and set the extras in the middle of the table. To hold them down, he placed a small, heavy object on top.

  “I can’t believe you hung on to the egg rock,” Laith said, running his hand over the smooth surface.

  “Kylie kept forgetting to take it with her, and after a while, I got used to it being on the windowsill. You can’t have it back.”

  Laith didn’t quite laugh, but he smiled. “I don’t need it,” he said. “Mom’s got tons of frou-frou kitchen gadgets.”

  “The burgers have landed,” Colby said as he set a foil-lined platter on the picnic table.

  Burgers were forked onto buns, dressed, slathered, and devoured. The three ate in silence—not even complaining about the vague chemical taste of store-bought potato salad—until the food was nearly gone.

  “Anyone going to eat that last burger?” Isaac asked. “I hate to throw it out.”

  Laith rubbed his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Got to watch my figure,” Colby said.

  “And Punkin’s on a diet,” Isaac said. “But I guess it wouldn’t hurt him to have a few bites.”

  “Where is he, anyway?” Laith asked.

  “He hightailed it the second I opened the door to his crate. I’d guess he’s about halfway through re-scenting all his favorite spots. Punkin’s home is wherever the food bowl is, but he made no bones about
the fact that the motor home doesn’t have enough soft sleeping spots.”

  “That’s so cute,” Colby said. “When you talk about your cat, you forget to be a son of a bitch.”

  “Thanks for reminding me. Are you finished eating?”

  “Yeah, but we haven’t talked about the heartbreak scene yet.”

  “There’s no rush on that. Come by the RV tomorrow at the usual time.”

  “Are you kicking Colby out?” Laith asked.

  “It’s just not right, is it?” Colby said.

  “Come on,” Laith said. “It’s barely nine o’clock.”

  “What do you want to do?” Isaac asked Laith.

  Laith shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m happy to stay awhile longer,” Colby said, taking pity on Isaac. “But I do have a half hour drive to my place and some scripts to look at before bed.”

  “Yeah, I understand,” Laith said.

  “We’ll get together on the set tomorrow,” Colby said.

  “If I’m still around.”

  “Come on, Laith,” Isaac said. “Don’t be a jerk. It’s pretty amazing someone like Colby Lightner would spend this much time with mere mortals. Don’t ruin it by sulking.”

  “I hope I see you tomorrow, Colby,” Laith said. “Thanks for coming to dinner.”

  “I had an awesome time,” Colby said. “I hope we can do it again soon. Bye, Isaac.”

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Laith said as he followed Colby. “I want another look at your car.”

  Isaac was almost finished with the clearing up before Laith came back in. Punkin, who’d been lured into the kitchen by leftover hamburger, looked up. Laith went down on one knee and stroked the cat as Punkin went back to eating.

  “He’s in heaven,” Isaac remarked.

  “And I’m in hell.”

  “Come on. Southern California isn’t that bad.”

  “I guess not. Not so far. I like it here a lot better than at home, anyway.”

  “Why is it so bad at home?”

  Laith scratched behind Punkin’s ears. “Nobody at school likes me. In fact, they all hate me.”

  “Why would they hate you? You’re an intelligent, humorous, reasonably attractive young man, considering your age.”

  “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Why would you laugh?”

  “Look at me. I’m Ichabod fuckin’ Crane.”

  “You’re tall and skinny. Isn’t that a good thing for a Goth?”

  “I’m not a— What’s the point? You’ll never understand.”

  “I sure as hell won’t if you don’t give me a chance. I promise I won’t judge you. Just tell me.”

  “First of all, I’m not a Goth. They’re way too regimented. I just dress the way I feel.”

  “That explains a lot, actually.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m your godfather, and it’s my duty to listen to whatever crap you spew out. So spew.”

  “I just don’t fit in, okay?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being different. It’s largely regarded as a marker of genius.”

  “Whatever. It’s no fun being different at my school.”

  “I thought you went to school with a bunch of hippy kids.”

  “There are plenty of crunchy granola stoners in Steamboat, but they homeschool. I go to a private school for kids who are supposedly ahead of the curve. These aren’t the kids of the people who work at the ski resort. They belong to the people who have their own chalets on their own slopes.”

  “Preppies?”

  “More or less.”

  “Black nail polish on boys probably doesn’t fly too well at your school.”

  “Not even on girls.”

  “What are they? Republicans?”

  “Mostly they’re just assholes. At least twice a week I’d find my locker filled with creamed corn, or chili, or something else disgusting that’s hard to clean up. They throw stuff at me out of car windows. Gym class is a nightmare.”

  “Has anyone tried to hurt you?”

  “Have you been listening?” Laith sat on the floor, drawing up his knees and resting his head on them. “They torture me every day.”

  “Did you say anything to a teacher or a counselor? Or would that be too wussy?”

  “Too wussy.” Laith looked up. “Did you get bullied in school?”

  “No. I was a pretty average small-town kid up until I went away to college.”

  “Is that when you found out you were gay?”

  Isaac almost deflected the question, but he could see that this was important to Laith. “No, I knew I liked guys since I was around twelve. I was just too terrified to do anything about it until I left home. I was a bookworm who had exactly one date—the Junior-Senior Prom. Nobody at college knew jack shit about me, so I made myself up. I always watched a lot of movies, and I borrowed my style from the characters I thought were cool. I changed my clothes, my hair, everything. The Isaac Mach II actually got up the nerve to go out and find another gay man.”

  “How’d it happen?” Laith asked when Isaac paused for breath.

  “How did what happen?”

  “You know, your first time.”

  Isaac was determined to be open and honest, but he balked at this. “I don’t think I should talk about that with you.”

  “Then who else is going to? Uncle Zee, I think I’m gay. No, I’m pretty fuckin’ sure I’m gay, but I don’t know what I should do. Maybe hearing about how you handled it will—”

  “Oh God and the sweet baby Jesus, no! I fucked it up spectacularly.”

  “Then you can keep me from making the same mistakes.”

  “I need a drink. You mind?”

  “It’s your house.”

  “I know, but do you mind if I have a drink while we talk?”

  “As long as you’re not shit-faced.”

  “Fair enough.” Isaac poured two fingers of cognac and took a sip, closing his eyes as the familiar wave of warmth flooded through him.

  “That’s the first time I’ve seen you look happy since you picked me up,” Laith said. “You should see your face.”

  “Do I have mustard on my chin?”

  “Laugh it off, but you’re only happy when you’re drinking.”

  “Okay, now let’s talk about you again.”

  “You were going to tell me about—”

  “Right. I’m going to tell you, and you have to promise me you won’t do the same thing.” Isaac waited while Laith raised his hand and swore. “Okay. I heard about this place on the lake, this long dock that people fished off of during the day. But at night it turned into something called Queer Pier. The rumors were that homos hung out there and jerked each other off. I was so desperate that I went there one night.” He paused and took a drink. “I don’t want to go into excruciating detail, but I guarantee you that angels didn’t sing and rose petals didn’t rain from the sky. I walked out on that dock, and my footsteps sounded so loud to me, but no one looked directly at me. Someone had broken out the safety lights so you couldn’t really see much, anyway.” Isaac took another drink. “I went out to the end, found an empty spot at the rail, and leaned on it like I was enjoying the nonexistent view of the lake. Right away, a guy came and leaned on the rail next to me. He didn’t say anything. He just reached over and grabbed my package. I almost peed my pants, but then he started moving his hand, feeling me up, and I started getting into it, but I was still too nervous to touch him. He moved behind me and reached around and unzipped me. Wow, I can’t believe how it’s coming back to me. I can practically smell the lake water and his bourbon cologne.”

  “Finish the story.”

  “Please forgive me for trying to set the scene a little.” Isaac finished his drink and poured another, gripping the bottle hard to control the shaking of his hand. “It was weird, you know, like the way some dreams seem so real. I was standing there with a stranger’s hand in my pants in full view of at leas
t a dozen other people. I started wondering if it was really such a good idea. What if they were just waiting for some naïve kid to gangbang? They’d have to kill me when they were done with me, but if they tossed my body in the lake with a rock tied to it, I’d probably never be found.”

  “You can stop laying it on thick,” Laith interrupted. “I promised you I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  “The truth is, those men were just as lonely and desperate as I was. None of us knew where else to go to find other people like us.”

  “I can relate. What happened with the guy on the pier?”

  “He jerked me off while he rubbed against me ’til he came.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Not quite. I blew my wad pretty much the second he grabbed my bare dick, but it took him a little longer. Probably because he was drunk as a skunk. I was ready for him to let go of me a long time before he finished. And he kept yanking on my dick. After a while, it kind of hurt, but I didn’t do anything about it. I just stood there until he got off. He squeezed me real hard, and I shoved him with my elbows. He let go, and I walked away as fast as I could without making it look like I was running.”

  “Creepy.”

  “Yeah it really ruined the moment for me. I never went back there.”

  “Who was your first real lover?”

  Isaac glanced at Laith. “If I answer this question, will you promise to talk to your mother?”

  “I was going to anyway.”

  “Will you get off the floor? You’re making my neck hurt looking down at you.”

  Laith moved to one of the bar stools, and Punkin jumped up to sit on his lap. “You feel better now?” he asked.

  Isaac ignored the question, but he did feel better. “You shouldn’t sit on tile. You’ll get sciatica.”

  “That sounds like a good Scrabble word.

  “You play Scrabble?”

  “Yeah, online, now stop trying to distract me.”

  “My first real lover was a professor from another college. He was a guest lecturer in my Ancient Civilizations class and the hottest guy I’d ever seen in real life. I bought one of the copies of his book that were on sale after the lecture and waited in line to have it signed just so I could stand close to him and look him in the eye. When he signed the book, he asked which ancient people I was most interested in. I said the Scythians. He said he had a collection of Scythian artifacts and would I like to see them? He wrote his number under his signature, and that’s how we met.”