Like a Surge

by Olivette Devaux

  “Shit, man. Doesn’t that make you a teacher’s pet?” Dave, a huge guy in perpetually filthy construction boots, gave him a look full of tangled, swirling emotions.

  “Not really.”

  “Yes really. Some of us squeeze these classes in between other work, and here you go boosting your grade the old-fashioned way.” He saw fire under Dave’s thick eyelashes, fire and anger, and maybe a touch of disgust.

  “I’m not in a degree program. I care about learning everything they teach here, but the grades mean very little to me.”

  “So how does this work, again? You do this as a hobby, and screw one of the profs for extra entertainment?”

  Paul looked over Dave and met the blazing gaze of a tall, buff guy with an ex-military look to him, haircut and all. They had never talked before, but he was hard to miss with his swagger and catlike poise. If Paul could see auras, he’d bet his would be sprawling far away from his body. “I do this because it helps me on another job,” he volunteered. “And the relationship between me and my partner is nobody’s business. It doesn’t affect you in any way.”

  Before the guy could answer, professor Meriden rushed in. “Sorry I’m late! I got held up in a meeting. So, let’s get started, shall we?”

  Relieved, Paul sank to his seat and prepared his notebook, just as most other students pulled out their tablets with fancy detachable keyboards, or their laptops.

  He and Russ were out now. The word would spread. Paul thought maybe he should be afraid on Russ’ behalf for a moment or two, but then he recalled how Russ kept him nice and close even as the classroom began to fill, and how he brushed their lips together.

  Russ had made a choice – and a declaration.

  He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Paul grinned. If Russ could overcome his fears and reservations when it came to the rest of the school knowing they were together, then surely Paul could do the same, and reach out to Sig.

  After all, if you can teach something, it means you know it through and through.

  Uncle Owen had said so.

  CHAPTER 26

  Cooper stood on the cured concrete foundation for the six garages, which were located across the street from their six rowhouses, and gazed toward the river in amazement. How had that house grown into being so quickly? Or, more accurately, how had spring sneaked its way past him, going from cold and sleeting to short sleeves and sunglasses in just two weeks?

  Winter was long-gone, and even though the unusually cool April delayed the concrete-pouring, May was around the corner, and with it, their new house.

  A finished house, U-shaped around a little courtyard, which was even now surrounded by a low deck like an antique Japanese guest house. The trees and shrubs planted around it were mounded with fresh soil and dark mulch, and newly-seeded lawn was growing under a protective layer of straw in the most prominent areas.

  “I’m glad we kept the biodiversity,” Ash said next to him, referring to the expanse of scrub grass and weeds extending from the seeded lawn to the tree line. “And the old orchard trees.”

  “And the new orchard trees,” Cooper said with a benign smile. “And the weeping cherry tree, which you’ll want to prune into a popsicle!”

  “I would never,” Ash said, making a show of being appalled. “I won’t ever understand those misguided souls who insist on giving those lovely, trailing branches a haircut!”

  Privately, Cooper decided that he’d talk Paul into installing some kind of a planting to separate the lawn and all that ‘biodiversity,’ because without a distinct division between the two, the sturdy weeds would take over the lawn and creep inside the house.

  The thought had him eyeing the roof. “You know,” he said, “That roof is rated for a ton of extra load, so if you ever want to cover it with plants, we could.” Grass roofs were effective for keeping the house cool in the summer, and they controlled water runoff.

  “I would have, except I really need to harvest rain water. Too bad the solar panels jumped in price like that.” With tariffs on Chinese imports, that part of the project wouldn’t be finished till next year. Cooper expected Ash to gripe about it some the way he always did when the solar panel issue came up, but Ash tugged Cooper’s sleeve instead. “Let’s go see inside!”

  Cooper indulged him, even though little had changed since last time. They were waiting for the appliances and for the final inspection before they could move in. “You’re like a little kid,” he said with a smirk.

  “You bet! I want to see the fireplace first.”

  He wanted to see the fireplace again.

  They kicked their muddy boots off outside the double-sided door, walked through a foyer, and into the center section of the house. The sunken living room sported a lovely fireplace faced in river rocks they had scavenged together from one of Allegheny River’s tributaries as a symbol of their two elements. The water-smoothed stones were of various shapes and sizes, and the stone smith who set them had created a flowing pattern that could’ve represented either fire or water.

  Ash stroked the gleaming wooden plank underfoot with the sock on his foot as he relished the contrast of the magnificent centerpiece and the way it rose above the dark, wooden floor. Daylight spilled in through the generous windows.

  “Let’s see the courtyard,” Cooper said after a while. He opened a large sliding door made of opaque white glass and fitted with a decorative lattice, designed to resemble a Japanese shoji screen.

  The smooth reclaimed teak planks chilled his feet, but the peaceful smile of Ash’s face warmed him all the way through. He followed his gaze to the middle, where a pile of white construction sand waited for someone to shape it, and the adjacent boulders, into a Japanese rock garden. The plantings would take place after the inspection, mostly because Ash was busy with a small environmental consulting job in the nearby Ohio and had wanted to have a say in the design of the meditation garden.

  A red maple, definitely. And a small blooming tree, and a few of those mugo pines. An azalea, maybe, too, Cooper went down a list of plants he knew were available in a nearby nursery. “Where do you want to put the barbecue?” he asked innocently.

  Ash elbowed his ribs, but not too hard. “Very funny. But I think the architect has provided a little grilling corner.”

  Cooper, the architect, had indeed done just that. The grilling patio was around the corner and would be discretely hidden by a garden wall and greenery. He pulled Ash closer and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I love you so much.” He was insanely tempted to tell Ash about the surprise water feature. Only keeping his mouth occupied would stop him from describing it in lavish detail right now.

  And there was a proven way to keep his mouth occupied.

  He pushed Ash against the darkwood siding of the house and glanced around. They were in a fairly enclosed space. Not even a drone flying overhead would see them under the roof that jutted out just enough to shelter the four-foot wide walkway.

  Cooper dropped to his knees.

  “What are you doing?” Ash rasped, but the lust and love in his eyes told Cooper that Ash knew very well what he was doing, and that if he kept doing it, this part of Pittsburgh would be in for some unexpected rain.

  ASH SPRAWLED STAR-FISHED on the floor of their new house, feeling the smooth hardness of the sleek wood floor under his back. Cooper lay on his side, watching him in languid, post-coital satisfaction. Nothing could improve this moment – the sweet solitude with nary a hint of another power-signature nearby, and with the rain drumming on the porch overhang outside.

  “I wish we could stay like this forever,” Ash said just before his cell phone rang.

  “Never a moment’s peace,” Cooper teased gently, and yawned.

  With a sigh, Ash fished his phone from the pocket of his still-unbuttoned jeans and answered. The conversation was terse, the implications unpleasant.

  “Well?” Cooper prodded him. “What’s going on?”

  “The garage called. The van is shot.”

&nb
sp; “Shot?” Cooper sat up. “Surely it’s worth fixing, right? Didn’t you want to get well over 200,000 miles on it before you needed to replace it?”

  “I did,” Ash said evenly, running up a tally of various repairs in his head. “Except it might be worth it to consider alternatives, especially if we still want to get those solar panels. Renting out that house helps, but still.” Only one set of tenants had moved in, two young women with a power signature so minimal, they were practically background noise. Unrelated, unaffected by the fluctuations of local ley lines and nodes, and with their first out-of-college jobs, they were just about the ideal tenants.

  “I’m waiting.” Cooper didn’t like to wait, although he tried hard not to sound pissy over Ash’s delay.

  “So that pothole I ran into? The rim is bent, and the half-axle is about to come off. We were very lucky. While he was checking for other damage, he discovered a gas leak, the kind that would mean a brand-new gas tank.” Ash rubbed his jaw, feeling the beginning of his 5-o’clock shadow. “Plus, there’s the old oil leak we can’t find, and the transmission that needs work.”

  “And the van needs to get inspected when?” Cooped asked shrewdly.

  “This fall. Which means there will be brake pads, because these vans positively eat them. And there might be new all-weather tires, and you’re looking at more than four thousand bucks of parts and labor.”

  Their eyes met. They had the money, well kind of, if they economized elsewhere, but... but throwing money at a dying vehicle was bad business.

  Cooper stood up and stretched, then settled into an easy down-dog pose. His voice was muffled as he asked his next question. “Do we even need a van? Paul manages just fine on a motorcycle.”

  “And so does Hank. Sig rides a Harley, too.” Despite his best effort, a note of wistful wishfullness had crept into Ash’s voice. He hoped Cooper missed it. Bikes had their hazards, and they weren’t cheap. Plus, what would they do in the winter?

  Cooper planked for a few breaths before he dropped into a child pose. “We could ride together,” he said. The he lifted his head, eyeing Ash from under his generous eyelashes. “Y’know, if we got used bikes, we could swing it now. And we could pay for a used minivan to haul the whole crew around when I get my next client.”

  It sounded so sensible. So easy. Maybe too easy, and Ash did his best to poke holes in it. “How can you guarantee you’ll get another client by next fall? ‘Cause we’ll need a van by then.”

  “Just a feeling,” Cooper said, keeping things vague. “The shared office in town works well, y’know. I already got two smaller jobs as referrals from other people who work there, plus there’s the old dude with the fracking problem up north.”

  Ash rolled over on his side just so he could watch Cooper flow from one yoga pose into another. Like water, but... but not water, because that wasn’t Cooper’s element. Like fire, maybe? But that wasn’t his element either. In any case, the few daily poses they both practiced in the morning paid off by making his partner sleek, strong, and most of all, happy.

  It was unfair to put the burden of the van on Cooper’s emerging architecture practice, though. An idea occurred to Ash. Normally he tried to do everything himself, which meant he ended up cleaning up after parties and paying for other people’s emergency expenses, but maybe it was time to call in his chits. “Maybe we could ask the others to contribute a bit of money,” he said hesitantly. “I mean, they all use the van, right?”

  The light in Cooper’s eyes bathed him in adoration. “That’s... wow. It never even occurred to me that we could just ask. And it’s technically my cousins, so it’s better if I do the asking.” He jumped to his feet. “Come on! Make it stop raining so we can go home and check out what bikes are on sale!”

  CHAPTER 27

  Russ sat on a floor pillow, leaning his back against the bottom of Hank’s sofa. Paul’s legs were draped over his shoulders from above. The seven of them fit on Hank’s sprawling seating arrangement with room to spare, but Russ liked the casual intimacy of their current contact.

  He also liked his easy access to the pizza boxes on the rectangular leather ottoman in the middle of the room, a concession to Hank’s need for a coffee table. “Except we never have coffee,” Hank had said at the time. “And people can sit on it.” Its the interior storage hid bedding for overnight guests.

  For now, Russ savored the melty cheese and the crisp, salty pepperoni of his third slice. This discussion about the ancient minivan had nothing to do with him. His mind drifted toward his doctoral thesis, which he had neglected as soon as he and Paul became a thing.

  Which wasn’t Paul’s fault, really, because that’s when Russ came to accept that instead of being crazy, he only had superpowers. Or a ‘talent,’ as the group called it, although ‘superpowers’ had a certain cachè to it.

  “But we need a regular car, too,” Cooper said, breaking into his thoughts as soon as Russ was back in his happy world of electromagnetic fields again. “And with the van dead, Ash and I figured we’d buy used motorcycles instead, except we still need a car the group can use. Like, for shopping and group trips, and something that can handle a car seat when Ellen’s baby comes along.”

  “I still have the Volkswagen love-mobile,” Ellen said. “And I can take out the bed and have seats put in.”

  Russ perked up. It was true that Paul was doing just fine on his vintage Harley, and it was also true he himself had been daydreaming of getting a motorcycle of his own. That way, they could ride together. But they still needed his aging Toyota for those trips to Ikea, or to the grocery store, or out of town.

  “Which will take time and money,” Cooper said, while Ash remained uncharacteristically silent, and what was with that? Ash had usually been the one leading these types of discussions.

  “So anyway, Ash and I figured we should reassess our transportation needs, and if we still need to provide a minivan for our common use, maybe we could pitch in. Except he hates asking for money.” Cooper grinned. “You know I have no shame! I’ll ask you to pitch in and have absolutely no problem with it.”

  “I have the sedan, but I’ve been thinking of getting a bike, too,” Russ piped up. Since he had moved in with Paul, the issue of transportation options had been on his mind as well, and he didn’t want Ash to feel like this was a ‘family only’ discussion. Suddenly, he felt a pang of sympathy for his position.

  Cooper turned to him. “Yeah? What kind?”

  “I’m still researching it. But I’m not paying for my old apartment anymore, and living with Paul is a lot cheaper, so I could contribute to the project!”

  Paul swatted his head lightly from above. “I thought we were going to discuss money as a couple,” he chided gently.

  “Yeah, oh. So, that’s right. For the record, since I manage our cash flow on the computer and Paul can’t use it yet,” Russ said as a chorus of groans and giggles of sympathy rose around him, “we’ve agreed to communicate on the money thing... my bad. So, babe,” Russ said as he craned his neck up to see his beloved lean over him. “What do you think, how much can we pitch in?”

  The discussion turned from a stated need to a long planning session. Cooper took notes and kept tossing out numbers, while Hank chimed in on how realistic it was to this or that bike used, in good condition, and still stay in the budget.

  “But I’ll hate parking a bike outside,” Russ said as an aside. A necessary evil, a price to pay for the luxury of swerving around Pittsburgh’s potholes in style.

  “On that, we have happy news,” Ash said as Cooper leaned toward Hank for a consultation. “The garages are coming up, and they won’t be ordinary. The concrete is cured, the power is wired through underground cables, and all of you will be able to park inside! Each garage will be a double, meaning it will be the width of your house across the street, so you’ll be able to fit both bikes and cars, or storage, or whatever.” At Mark’s cheer, Ash’s tone grew somber. “We haven’t publicized this yet, but the garages will have a wal
k-through option. There’ll be a door on the other side as well, and you’ll be able to come right inside our garden.”

  Russ frowned. That was a lot of access to Ash and Cooper, especially since they had that node to mind. “But what about the tenants?” he piped up.

  “The doors won’t have windows. And they won’t open for them, don’t worry.” He grinned. “I suspect one of the garages will be the main entry, anyway.”

  “I’m building a fake wall and a mock ceiling to hide the door from the tenants,” Cooper said seriously. “Only group members get access to the main house.”

  Russ rubbed his cheek against the smooth jeans on Paul’s thigh. They were in this together. They had a budget and a plan.

  He had a home. He belonged – not in just Paul’s bed, but by Cooper’s side, and in Ash’s office, and in Hank’s living room. And when Ellen had spawned – her words – he’d take his turn with the baby. Russ leaned back and allowed himself to see the faint pink glow of electric lines and clouds that surrounded Ash’s laptop and the wiring in the house, and the haze of pink behind him that was Paul.

  Things were so good, they couldn’t get better.

  BALMY MAY gave way to hot June when the garages across the street were finished in all their glory. They looked nondescript, with white double-wide doors that slid up and down at the push of a button, or when the right code was keyed into the hidden keypad on the side of the door frame. Their common roof sloped away from the street, as though Ash wanted the rainwater to drain into his yard.

  Paul sort of resented that it had to be Russ who got to press the remote-control button to make the door ride up for the first time. “Are you going to make an insulating sheath for mine?” he asked wistfully.

  “I’ll get started today,” Russ promised.

  They walked in. The space was tall, taller than he would’ve thought. “I guess they needed the extra space for the two garage door openers,” he said. As soon as Russ pushed the button and let the new door slide almost silently behind them, Paul pulled a pencil out of his pocket, and pushed a button next to the other door. This side had a row of windows up above the roof, just enough to let in daylight, but also high enough to protect the privacy of what he had begun to think of as the ‘main house.’