Robert looked up at him, smiling a little. “You don't even know what you've got that turns me on, boy. And I don't think you'll change much when you do know."
Cody groaned, dropped to his knees there on the porch, and Robert held his chin, brought his face around for a kiss. He tasted luscious, that spicy warm taste that was Cody. “Me and Val? You think we've got some sort of ghostly threesome going on here?"
"I don't know what's going on.” Cody's voice was nearly a whisper. “I think I'm okay with it if you want to imagine you're holding Val in your arms, Robert, when you're holding me. I can feel how much you two loved each other. It's like something in the air all around us, in the cabin, and down by the river. That kind of love, I can't imagine it would ever die. I feel, I don't know, privileged to see it. To feel it, a little bit."
The tenderness, it was swamping his chest again, and Robert knew that Cody was telling the truth. He reached out and touched his face. “It's funny, I forgot to remember Val when you were filling my mouth with your tongue. Somehow it was all you.” And Cody dropped his head into Robert's lap, and Robert felt the heat of his tears. “You cooking breakfast, baby?"
Cody lifted his head, laughed and nodded and wiped his fists hard across his eyes. “Yeah, Robert. You got bacon in the fridge! You're a wild man!"
When he left Robert picked up the journal, turned to the next page. His eyes were filling with tears now. "Hey, baby. Did you hear that? Did you hear what that boy just said to me?"
* * * *
"When do you have to go back to work, Robert?"
"Tuesday. I've got tomorrow off. So I should leave by about four tomorrow afternoon. I'm looking forward to getting into the darkroom. I've got the basement set up as a darkroom for black and white."
"That was black and white film in that camera?"
"Yeah. I'm gonna hate to sell that house just because the basement is such a perfect darkroom.” Robert looked down at the tangled mess of fishing line in his hand and passed the whole thing over to Cody. “Would you please do something with that mess? Or I'm going to get out a pocket knife and just start..."
"No! Robert, Jesus!” He was running those big hands over Val's rod. “Oh, you're a beautiful girl. Come here, baby. I won't let that big meanie cut your lines."
"I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come home with me. But that was before you started baby-talking Val's fishing pole."
"Ah. Well. But Robert, this isn't just any rod. Rod, not pole.” Robert leaned back in his chair and studied Cody's earnest face. “It's not! I mean, do you even know ... What am I saying? You don't even fish with a hook.” Robert looked him over, considering. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? Please don't tell me you want to take some sort of nude fishing..."
Robert felt his eyebrows fly up. “Hmm. I've got some film left, big guy. Why don't you just take your shirt off, and..."
"I'm going to hell for this. There are rules about fishing."
Robert laughed, went into the cabin and got the camera case. Cody had the braided line smooth, lying in neat rows in the reel when he got back out to the porch.
"You are the most lovely girl. What a beauty you are. You sing your song to the fish, my lovely one.” He looked up. “It's not baby talk, Robert. It's secret Blackfoot fishing talk."
"Really. Interesting."
"Robert, can I really go with you? I can stay with you for a couple of days? It isn't too much, too soon? Or..."
"Cody, I just said I wanted you to come home with me. You're not a stray puppy I've picked up by the side of the road."
He turned and bounded down the steps, splashed into the river. “No, I'm not! I am the Fishing King of the Salmon River, and now that I have Excalibur in my hands, my fish brothers will come to me, throw themselves on my hook!"
"Excalibur?” Val, did you hear that? “You just splashed into the river in your jeans. If I'm not mistaken, those were your only dry clothes."
Cody stared down at his wet jeans, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Then he turned and addressed the fishing pole. “Well, Excalibur? Have we been outmaneuvered? I believe we have.” He walked out of the river and started peeling out of his clothes.
"Cody, will you let your hair out of the ponytail?"
He looked over his shoulder at Robert and pulled the elastic band out of his hair. It was shiny and black and down to his waist, and it spread across his shoulders like a silky black waterfall. “Sure, if you want me to. You better take your pictures from behind, Robert. This water's so cold my pieces and parts are gonna shrivel up and crawl up my ass."
Cody wasn't really into the nude fishing picture-taking deal, muttering to the fishing pole and the river rocks and moving a little ways down the river like he really wanted to bolt. But Robert got some world-class photos of him casting, shoulders and back dense with muscle, his sculpted ass and thighs looking like something the Greeks were trying for, but never quite got right. Then Robert put the camera down, sat on the river bank and just watched him. Watched him and thought about Val, alive in 1882 and alive last year, and thought about ghosts.
He heard a little whistle, and Lillian Evans, the town librarian, walked around the side of the cabin. She was carrying a Tupperware cake plate, and Robert could smell something warm and sugary—pineapple upside down cake, if he wasn't mistaken.
"Hi, Robert.” Her eyes studied Cody, fishing naked down the river. She handed Robert the cake, trying not to smile. “Well, Cody's grown up into a fine strong man! I'm happy to see it. I wanted to welcome you back, Robert. See how you felt about staying.” She smiled at him then, and her dark eyes were kind.
"Come on in the cabin,” he said, and she followed him up the porch and inside.
"Robert, it's beautiful! I haven't been in this cabin for a long time now. It's nice to see you taking such good care of it."
"Well, I haven't been,” Robert admitted. “But I will now."
"Has your recovery been very hard?"
He nodded. “I was in the hospital a lot longer than I wanted to be. I couldn't even arrange anything for Val. They wouldn't let me out. The paper did a memorial service, but it ... I don't know. It wasn't right. I wasn't there, and it wasn't what he would have wanted. It still feels like unfinished business."
"You're walking a little stiff."
"My leg was broken high up, a compound fracture where the thigh bone connects to the hip. I'm just happy to walk at all. That was up in the air for awhile."
"Have you thought about coming out here? Staying here in Salmon?"
He blinked at her, shocked. “No, Lillian. I really haven't. I'm a photojournalist. I've been working for the same city paper for twenty-two years now."
"Well, I'm not trying to push you, Robert. I just wanted you to know that you would be welcome here, in our community, if you did decide to make a change."
Cody came bounding in the back door, holding an enormous fish that looked to Robert like a King Salmon. “Robert, look! Excalibur had triumphed! Miss Evans!” He turned on his heel, dashed back out to the porch.
A moment later he heard Cody's small voice. “Robert? Robert, can you bring me some clothes, please?"
* * * *
Late afternoon, drowsy warm sunlight striping the bed. Robert had his head on Cody's lap, and they were reading some of the library books Robert had checked out on local history, trying to find anything about what they had seen in the dream.
"Robert, the Val in the dream, was that your Val? I mean, do you think he was the same person?"
"I'm not sure. I've been trying to figure it out, because, I mean, Jesus, what if he was? What the hell does that mean? I should be thinking about why we're both dreaming together, that's weird enough, but I can't seem to work my mind around this thing about Val. I think it doesn't matter about the names being the same. Names get passed down. My grandfather was Robert Mitchell, too.
"But in the dream, the man looked just like him. I mean, exactly like him, like a twin. The longer hair, the
mutton-chop whiskers—take those away, and it would be like looking into a photograph. His eyes, they looked the same. But I'll tell you what didn't feel the same. I could feel this rage, this black fury wrapped around him. I could almost see it, it was so strong. I never knew Val to give in to rage like that. We traveled all over the world together, covered stories ... some bad stories, Cody. It's a tough world. But Val, he would feel sad. We saw horrible things, and it would hurt him, he would hold the pain in, then write the best story he could, try to change things that way. This other Val from the dream ... He was so angry, so full of hate. I thought, he's so angry he's hoping for violence. He could hurt someone. That made me think he wasn't my Val."
Cody was silent, his fingers stroking Robert's hair.
"I didn't think the Blackfoot guy looked much like you, other than the nose. That nose was the spitting image of yours. Is that some tribal thing? Do the Blackfoot all have that same nose?"
Cody's fingers stilled in his hair. “Ah. No. Actually, it's a family nose."
"A family nose."
"So the story, Robert, the secret tribal legend that we don't tell outside the family is that a Blackfoot man, a two-spirit like me, fell in love with an Army officer in the year of the last buffalo hunt. He was cast out, but that winter the people began to starve. His sister loved him, and she decided to find him. She set out to walk from Montana with her children and some of the other lost and orphaned children—fifteen all together, from babies to teenagers. When they got here, her brother took them all in. In the story my grandfather told it was always, and my grandmother was killed in that winter of death by evil men. But the Blackfoot uncle, and his lover, they kept all the children, kept them safe and kept them hidden, and over time the community grew and changed and accepted, and today everyone lives together. I don't know why we still keep the story secret, like the children still need protecting. But we do.” Robert looked up at something in his voice, and found Cody's eyes full of tears.
"My grandmother was killed in that winter of death by evil men. She was your great-great grandmother, the woman who was murdered."
"Yeah. That's what I think. It felt true, the dream. Didn't it? Or have we both gone crazy? But actually, Robert, I nearly cheered out loud when Akecheta sunk that tomahawk into the nut's forehead. I'd love to get a good look at that tomahawk. Seems like the head was forged metal."
Robert blinked in surprise. “Yeah, Cody, I thought the dream felt true. But you know what? I forgot about you being an expert in old weapons. And this one might actually belong to you. Why don't we go dig it up? It's out in the onion field."
* * * *
"How do you know it's out in the onion field?"
"I saw it on the LCD screen of the metal detector. Didn't you? I mean, there is nothing else that looks like a tomahawk. There was no mistaking it."
"I guess I did miss it. You show me, okay? Later? Because our options right now are to make love or dig up a tomahawk. Now, that's a tricky decision. That would be a tricky decision, I mean, if you weren't lying here, Robert, looking like something from a teenaged boy's wet dream."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just an old man."
Cody splayed his fingers out across Robert's face, traced the lines between his eyes. “These lines, they make me think you're tough. Like nothing can break you.” He ran his fingers back through Robert's hair. “It's, like, when I look at you, I don't know what you're thinking. You're likely to be thinking anything, cause your mind, it's wide, you know what I mean? Wide and deep like the ocean. Untamed."
Robert laughed up at him, and Cody shrugged, his cheeks flushing red. “Hey, I'm not a poet. I don't know how to say what I mean, and have it sound ... you know. But I think I'd rather make love, if it's all the same to you. That tomahawk isn't going anywhere."
Cody bent over him, kissed the skin next to his mouth, and his fingers moved down Robert's chest, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled the soft cotton aside. He crawled around, tugged Robert up, sat him on the side of the bed. Cody took his clothes off, dropped them on the floor, and when he was done he watched Robert finish pulling off his jeans, stand up and move into his arms.
Cody wrapped him up, and Robert closed his eyes, let his forehead rest on Cody's big chest. Cody's skin was warm, with its spicy, dark taste, like anise and chocolate. Robert moved his mouth across his collarbone, and Cody wrapped his arms tight around him, squeezed as his cock lifted and filled.
"Robert. Lie down, Robert. Let me make love to you. I'll be gentle."
Robert looked up at him, traced a hand across his chest. “You'll be gentle. That's very nice! What if I want you to be rough?” Robert laughed at the look on his face. “Cody. You can do what you want. I said that before. You can do anything you want."
The breath seemed to catch in Cody's throat, and his dark eyes got wide. “You really mean it. See, that's why you're so cool!” He leaned in. “I want to fuck. I want to fuck you and I'm not sure if your leg can take it. And do we even have any condoms?"
Robert felt some dark and sweet emptiness deep in his belly, felt his cock stirring. “I can take you, baby. I'd love to feel that long cock in my ass, Cody. I love to fuck, too, I love to get fucked, it's been so long, but I love it, I love...” Cody was all over him now, mouth hungry and urgent, tongue moving hard and fast into his mouth, cock rearing up, thrusting against Robert's.
"In the bathroom, Cody. There's some lube on that top shelf. See if there's a condom up there, too. I don't know.” Robert pushed him away, climbed across the bed and lay on his stomach. He lifted his ass a little, tried to find a comfortable position. Tiny flames were licking his skin and he was so turned on all of the sudden he knew he could have humped the quilt, come into his fist in two seconds.
Cody was back, and his heavy body fell across Robert's. He reached under Robert's hip, slid his cock into his fist. “One fucking condom, and you know I can't last, don't ask me to go slow...” His hand around Robert's cock was rough, the other hand moving down his ass, spreading him open, a big finger pressing in.
Then Robert felt the lube, cold and slick, and Cody's cock was at his anus, as heavy as a truncheon, pushing, pushing. “Let me in, Robert, come on, man, now, now, now."
He couldn't breathe, his heart was beating a wild tattoo in his throat, and he pushed back suddenly, felt Cody's heavy purple cock-head slip in.
His voice was crooning and sweet. “Oh, that's good, that's good, you beauty, that's what a man is supposed to feel like...” Cody reached down, took a gentle bite out of the thick muscles in Robert's shoulder. The hand on his cock tightened, he began to move it in rhythm with the cock in his ass, Cody's heavy sheet of hair falling down around them, its smell musky and wild, and Robert turned his head and let Cody take his mouth.
He shattered, his cock shattered in Cody's fist, his mind shattered, and Cody groaned, a dark sound against his mouth, groaned and then roared like a beast with bloody jaws. He pumped against Robert's ass, deeper and rougher, and Robert could feel every inch of that cock shuddering inside him. Cody licked the bite marks on Robert's neck, licked them, pressed a kiss against his red skin, and Robert could feel his cock thrusting and shuddering inside him. And Cody stopped to kiss. Robert reached a hand under his body, wrapped his fingers around Cody's sticky fist.
"Don't move. Stay inside me now."
Cody hadn't quite caught his breath. “Okay. Okay. I won't move. You're the boss."
Robert grinned and closed his eyes. “I'm the boss?"
Cody replied in a zombie voice. “Yesss, Massster."
And then they were both laughing so hard that he slipped out, groaned and flopped over on his back and reached down for the loaded condom, laughed some more when Robert's fingers moved across his belly and tickled him.
* * * *
"It was the second flag, Cody. The tomahawk, I mean. It was in that same area as the uniform buttons."
Cody was flipping through the notebook. “Okay, here we go.” He stared down at
the sketch. “Maybe. Probably.” He put the notebook down and stared at Robert. “I think my brain short-circuited from standing so close to you. That's my guess."
"Maybe so. What do you need?"
"The reading said the tomahawk is about thirty-six inches down, but we shouldn't depend on that metal detector. You have a measuring tape of some kind?"
Robert nodded. “I think I've got one in the truck. Let me go look."
Cody reached over and kissed him, stood up. “Thanks for this, Robert. You can't imagine how cool this is for me."
Robert grinned. “What, digging shit up? You're a cheap date. You bring your own fish. You bring your own shovel. And for fun, you want to dig holes in the yard. And take your clothes off so I can take your picture."
"Those pictures, they aren't going to show up anyplace my cousins will see them, right? Cause they will never let me live it down, Robert, I swear."
"My eyes only. And yours. You're coming home with me?” Robert reached for his shirt, tugged him a little closer. “Come home with me. Spend some time with me. Let me spoil you a little."
Cody's hand wrapped around his head, dropped to the back of his neck. “Yeah, I'll follow you home. Like a love-sick puppy."
Robert stood up. “Good. Go dig your holes. I'll find the tape measure."
He pulled the tool box out from behind the seat, flipped it open and started digging through the screwdrivers and bolts for the tape measure. He found it at the bottom, slid the rest of the tools back and shoved the tool box back behind the seat. He stared across the onion field, and when he looked at Cody he started to laugh. He was dancing around, shaking his leg like he was doing the hokey pokey. “You fool, what are you doing?"
Then he saw Cody's face, and his blood turned to ice, his heart froze in his chest. Blind horror, and Cody was stumbling backward, shaking the shovel, then throwing it away from him, shaking his foot, shaking his arm, and then he shrieked, a hoarse, horror-filled shriek that tore into Robert's chest. Robert started running, but he already knew. Snakes. Rattlesnakes.
The hole was small, not even two feet deep, but Cody had dug down into a rattlesnake nest. He was on the ground, screaming, grabbing at a snake moving up his arm. There was another rattler wrapped around his leg, fangs sunk into the skin above the ankle. Robert grabbed the snake, jerked it off him and flung it away, but he could see the bite mark, a couple of thin lines of blood dripping down his skin.
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