Hadrian's Lover

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by Patricia-Marie Budd


  Even prior to the addition of the soya bean industry, Hadrian had always been very close to self-sufficient. Because Hadrian’s borders include one quarter of the world’s largest inland freshwater lakes (believe it or not, Hudson Bay used to have a high concentration of saline that we harvest along its shores) and numerous bountiful rivers, we do not lack access to fresh water like many parts of the outside world. The boreal forest in our northernmost regions, with careful harvesting and a solid forest reclamation plan, provides us with all the pulp and paper we need. Our fishing industry and farms all boast bountiful harvests, and the mining of quartz and ore meet our basic metal needs. As we enter a new year in the life of Hadrian, we can happily claim the future is in our hands. Happy fiftieth birthday, Hadrian!

  Vale!

  A New Year’s Kiss

  The Hunter home is immaculate. You could run a finger into its deepest crevice and not pick up any dust. This obsessive cleaning trait of Dean’s only rears its ugly head when company is expected. He has also taken great pains to ensure that both party rooms, living room and kitchen, are decorated to match the evening’s festivities. All of the Hunters’ guests, when greeted at the door, are presented with one of Dean’s hand sewn (and starched!) conical hats. Using colorful scraps of hemp linen he produced over a dozen of these hats with tassels for his guests to wear. Every year he sews a new one, always for Geoffrey to wear. The living room is decorated with a rainbow of cheesecloth strung across the ceiling and others dripping down to the floor. Two of the three living room wall screens are turned on with festive imagery slide shows, the third reserved for the Salve! New Year count down. Dean also has a series of handmade noisemakers, including miniature drums, castanets, and whistles. Along with all the traditional New Year’s paraphernalia, Dean makes sure each guest starts the night with a glass of wine or his choice of liquor. With all the gaiety surrounding him, the multiple coos over his décor, and the layout of the food, one would expect Dean to be thrilled—but he isn’t. It is already ten-thirty and still no Mike and Todd. Frustrated at having no way of contacting Todd, Dean just paces in the front hallway, periodically looking toward the door.

  “Dean,” Geoffrey whispers, placing a hand on his lover’s shoulder to settle him. “Our guests are in the living room, not the front hall.”

  “I’m just—”

  “Waiting for Todd; I know. But,” with gentle opposition, “if Mike were going to bring him, they’d be here by now.”

  “I just hate the thought of that poor kid stuck at home alone on New Year’s Eve,” Dean laments.

  “You don’t know that, though, do you?” Geoffrey reminds him.

  Dean shakes his head angrily. “Oh, but I do! Mike Fulton is either working overtime for more credits, or he’s out with a new boyfriend.”

  “You have no right to judge the man,” Geoffrey remonstrates.

  “I’m going to take the bubble.” Seeing reservation in Geoffrey’s eyes, Dean attempts to justify his actions. “I just want to drive over there and see if Todd is home.”

  “Dean,” Geoffrey reminds him, “the bubble won’t run right now. It’s been too cold. You know that.”

  “It’s only minus five out there.”

  “It was minus twenty yesterday,” Geoffrey reminds him. “The battery is dead.”

  “It’s been out in the sun all day, it should be charged up by now.”

  Geoffrey grimaces, “Dean—”

  Before Geoffrey can finish Dean jumps in with, “I’ll take public transit then.”

  “Dean!” Geoffrey grabs Dean’s arm before he can turn toward the closet. “You’re not thinking rationally.”

  “Please, Geoffrey, let me go.”

  “No, Dean. Your responsibility is to your guests.”

  Just as Dean nods his reluctant assent, there is a knock at the front door. Dean rushes to answer it. Todd is standing outside. With his shoulders stooped and his body bundled inside an old black jacket, Todd looks stouter and shorter than he really is. In fact, Todd is 5’ 5” and quite muscular since he trains year round for his favorite sport, b-ball. He also likes to wrestle and plays v-ball on the offseason to stay in shape. In the summer, he swims in Hudson Bay. His wavy brown hair (hidden underneath a wool toque) is the same color as his eyes, which currently stand out against his thick frosty eyelashes. His hands are stuffed inside his jacket pockets because he lost his gloves a few weeks ago. “Hi, Papa Dean,” he stutters through shivers. “Can I come in? I’m freezing!”

  “Of course you can.” Dean pops his head over Todd’s shoulder. “Where’s your Papa?” Seeing no sign of Mike Fulton, Dean asks, “Did you walk here?”

  “Yes, sir,” Todd answers as he steps inside. Dean doesn’t even bother to ask why Todd never took public transit—no thumbprint, no credit, no access to public transit. He doesn’t remove his coat, though, since he is still cold. Although winters in Hadrian are relatively warm, never falling much below -15° C anymore and this New Year’s Eve is considered mild at -5, Todd still had to make the trek across town. Todd and his Papa Mike live in subsidized housing on the northern edge of Antinous, Hadrian’s capital city, whereas the Hunters live in a more posh region, along the Nelson riverbank.

  Dean shoots Geoffrey an exasperated look before smiling for Todd and asking, “Is Papa Mike working overtime tonight?”

  “Nah, he has a big date,” Todd says while shrugging off his coat.

  The way Dean glares at Geoffrey over this piece of information one would think Geoffrey was to blame for Mike Fulton’s absence. Geoffrey chooses to ignore Dean’s pointed expression, welcoming Todd with a handshake. “Well, we’re glad you were able to join us, Todd.” Gesturing, he adds, “Go on into the kitchen and help yourself to some punch. Frank’s in there with Roger and a friend.” Following Todd with his eyes as he walks away, Dean calls, “Mind you take from the purple bowl. The crystal bowl is for adults only!”

  “And tell Frank to quit eating all our food,” Dean adds as Todd disappears.

  “Yes, sir,” Todd chimes back from the kitchen.

  * * * * *

  Frank, Anthony, and Roger are the only ones in the kitchen. The three boys are clustered together around the table filled with food. Like most teenage boys, Frank’s appetite is humongous, so he has spent most of the night standing at the kitchen table eating. Todd laughs, “Papa Dean wants you to quit pigging out!”

  Frank smiles as soon as he sees Todd. He instantly steps forward and pulls Todd in for a bear hug. Being so much taller than Todd, standing 6’ 3”, he actually lifts his friend off his feet, holding him suspended briefly. “Glad you could make it, pal. We were ready to give up on you.” Frank is a very attractive youth. His oval face and reddish brown hair, although slightly feminine, do not detract from his obvious strength, for like Todd, Frank is muscular. He too enjoys playing v-ball, b-ball, and wrestling. He is even a long distance runner for track. His eyes are a speckled green, blue, and gray. When Frank smiles, his eyes always seem to light up.

  Anthony scowls as soon as Frank greets Todd, instantly turning his back to concentrate on the cheese and crackers. Like all of Frank’s boyfriends, Anthony is short, standing only 5’ 5½”. He has a small wiry frame, almost too skinny. Although he stands by the food table and appears to pick at the cheese, he doesn’t eat anything.

  “Hey, Todd,” Roger calls out happily. Todd is like an older brother to Roger, sometimes even more so than his real brother. Frank is great, but he doesn’t listen like Todd. Whenever Roger is upset and neither father is around, Todd is the next person Roger seeks out for help. Frank is a last resort because he seldom ever takes seriously anything Roger has to say. “Want some Brie? Papa Dean put it out for your Papa Mike. Is he here?”

  Todd leans in between Anthony and Frank. “Excuse me, skinny,” he teases Anthony, who does not respond, refusing even to move out of the way for Todd. Frank grabs Anthony’s shirt collar and pulls him to his side. Anthony’s smile for Frank barely conceals his contempt for T
odd. Todd is not oblivious; he knows Anthony is jealous, which is utterly stupid since he and Frank are just friends. Cutting off a huge chunk of Brie, Todd slathers it on a cracker before offering it to Anthony, “Here,” he teases, “let’s fatten you up a little so Frank has something he can grab onto.” Roger howls in laughter.

  Anthony glowers at Todd; then peering up, he complains, “Frank, your friend is being mean to me.”

  Todd chuckles along with Roger while Frank fights back the desire to join in. “Anthony, he’s just playing with you.” Sensing that his little boy is about to explode into one of his famous hissy fits, Frank calms Anthony down by kissing him. Although he still refuses to talk to Todd, Anthony is mollified. As they watch this display, Todd winks at Roger while stuffing the cheese and cracker into his mouth.

  * * * * *

  “Geoffrey! Geoffrey!” Dean cries out frantically. “Do you have the champagne ready? Melissa Eagleton is starting the countdown!” This bottle, Champagne Philipponnat Clos des Goisses, their last bottle of real French champagne, has been waiting patiently for over four years for tonight’s special celebration. With major cutbacks on imports, it is not likely they will ever have another such bottle to drink. They had ordered one case on their tenth anniversary, drinking a bottle each New Year and anniversary until 6-13 ended any chance that they could order more. Since then, their last remaining bottle has sat in solitary confinement inside its case in the far reaches of their cold storage awaiting Hadrian’s Fiftieth New Year’s Eve and Birthday celebration. As Melissa Eagleton’s voice drones along with the guests (all eyes glued to the Hunters’ wall screen), Dean calls out impatiently, “Geoffrey, please!”

  Geoffrey enters the room with the champagne bottle in his hand and the cork teased halfway out. Smiling, he gives the bottle a slight shake—just enough to get the bubbles flowing, but not so much that any of the valuable wine will get wasted on the floor. “Cork ready to pop, dear.”

  Dean sighs audibly, moving swiftly to the coffee table to retrieve the tray with one dozen crystal flutes, one for each of the eleven men present at their little New Year gathering. The extra flute, having been intended for Mike Fulton, will sit empty on the tray. As soon as the count hits one, everyone in the room cheers “Happy New Year!” along with Melissa Eagleton. Every man turns to his partner or neighbor, extending the traditional New Year’s kiss. Geoffrey and Dean kiss gingerly, due to the delicate nature of the tray held between them. Once the first round of kissing is complete, mostly moderate pecks since the only two couples present are Dean and Geoffrey and Frank and Anthony, Geoffrey pops open the champagne and pours everyone a drink. Although he gives full portions to the adults, the four teenage boys only garner a half glass each. Frank tosses his flute back, downing the expensive wine in one dramatic gulp. Geoffrey shakes his head. Dean wants to lecture him on such folly, considering how expensive this particular bottle is and how they are never likely to taste such luxury again, but before he or Geoffrey can express their displeasure, Frank turns Todd’s way and pulls him in for a kiss. And not just any kiss. Frank spins Todd as if in a dance, dipping his best friend low before diving down for his lips. It is a very romantic gesture, and as angry as Geoffrey and Dean are at Frank for having downed the expensive champagne, they are both pleased to see Frank engaging in a kiss with Todd. Neither man dislikes Anthony, but both men are hoping for a union between Frank and Todd. Smiling at the sight, Geoffrey feels the need to kiss his lover one more time, a little less gingerly now that the tray of flutes no longer hinders him.

  After Frank releases Todd, he dips his flute into the punchbowl; then raising his flute high, he offers up another toast to honor Hadrian’s birthday! Anthony does not participate in this cheer. Having watched Frank kiss Todd, the young man boils over in anger and jealousy. Pushing through the small crowd, he stops briefly to glare at Todd. And then, intentionally banging into Todd’s shoulder, he pushes past him to storm out of the front room and down the hall to Frank’s bedroom. Frank shrugs his shoulders Todd’s way before following Anthony out to set things straight.

  Todd turns to leave, figuring he’s overstayed his welcome, but Papa Dean catches him by the elbow. “Happy New Year, Todd.” Dean tussles Todd’s hair as he speaks.

  Ducking away to avoid Dean messing his hair too much, Todd laughs in reply, “Happy New Year, Papa Dean.” Then, with a half-hearted smile, “and Happy Fiftieth Birthday, Hadrian.” He lifts his flute in a token toast.

  “Fifty years. Pretty amazing, eh?” Dean is smiling, not having felt the tension yet.

  “Uh-huh.” Todd is barely paying attention to Dean. He is staring in the direction Frank left in pursuit of Anthony.

  Noticing the distant look in Todd’s eyes, assuming rightly it has something to do with Frank and Anthony, Dean comments, “That was some kiss you and Frank had.”

  “You mean Frank had!” Exasperated, Todd exclaims, “I wish he’d stop doing things like that to me!”

  “So tell me what was wrong with the kiss?”

  “It was too much—over the top—Frank always goes overboard. I mean, that’s the way you kiss your boyfriend. And I’m not Frank’s boyfriend.”

  “Why not, when the two of you get along so well?”

  “Because Anthony is Frank’s boyfriend.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No.” Shaking his head, Todd reiterates, “Really, Papa Dean, I’m not jealous of Frank’s dating other guys.” Somewhat confused by the truth, he confesses, “I don’t know why,” and confirms with his eyes, “I love Frank. You know I do.”

  Papa Dean places a hand on Todd’s shoulder. “I know.”

  “It’s just, well, I’m not ready to date yet, and Frank obviously is.” He shrugs. “I can’t be angry at him for that. Besides,” he adds judiciously, “I have no time for that sort of thing. I have to concentrate on school and b-ball. Keep my average up and my game sharp so I can get into uni. That way I won’t have to be a soldier and can work toward being an agricultural engineer like my dad!” Excited by the prospect, Todd adds, “You know Dad introduced soya bean to Hadrian. I want to introduce rice. That’s the last food substance we still have to import. Can you imagine if we could grow our own?”

  Dean smiles, pulling Todd in for a hug. “That’s an admirable goal, son. It would make your father proud.” Dean hugs Todd a little too hard but the young man doesn’t mind. Both men are re-experiencing the grief of loss: for Dean, the loss of a dear friend, and for Todd, the loss of a father. Releasing Todd, Dean takes a moment to brush a lock of hair out of the boy’s eye. “There is so much about you that reminds me of your father.”

  Todd beams. He loved his dad. There are nights he will dream his father is still alive, only to wake up and suffer the crushing reality of his death all over again. The transition of joy to sorrow, though seemingly infinitesimal, is very real. The light in Todd’s eyes blurs and tears begin to fill. “Why did he have to die?”

  Papa Dean re-submerges Todd in his arms. “I don’t know, son. Life is seldom fair. Sometimes all a man can do is make the best of it.”

  “I want to make Dad proud of me. I want to be just like him.”

  Todd breathes these words against Dean’s aching chest. “You are, Todd, like him in so many ways.” Perhaps too much, Dean worries. “But you have to be your own man, too. And I know,” he says, now pushing Todd back slightly so he can look him in the eye, “whatever you decide to do with your life, your father would be very proud of you!”

  “Thanks, Papa Dean.”

  Dean frowns. His little pep talk has not removed the shadow covering Todd’s mood. “All right, out with it.”

  “Out with what?” Todd asks, shifting his eyes away.

  “You are still upset about that kiss, aren’t you?”

  “Sort of.”

  Todd is evasive. Papa Dean will not let Todd escape telling him about his anxiety. “Why does the kiss bother you this much? It just looked like the two of you were having some fun.”r />
  Todd’s eyes darken. “It may have looked like fun to you, but as sure as Hadrian was gay, it didn’t look that way to Anthony.”

  “Ah, Anthony.”

  “Yeah, Frank’s boyfriend. How could Frank kiss me like that in front of him? That’s the way you kiss your boyfriend! Not your best friend.”

  “So, you’re worried about Anthony’s feelings, then?” Dean is not convinced.

  “Yes—no.” Todd knows better than to lie to Dean. Papa Dean always has a way of wriggling the truth out of him. “I’m worried about all the hateful rumors he’s going to spread when we go back to school.”

  Papa Dean is concerned. “Does this happen a lot?”

  “Every time Frank does something stupid like that in front of one of his boyfriends.” Exasperated, Todd says, “Everybody he has ever dated hates me! And they have all called me horrible names behind my back. Last year, Iggy told everyone I was a strai.”

  “A strai?” Dean asks, angered. “I hate that word! It’s so derogatory. It’s no one’s fault if he’s born straight. He’s to be pitied, not mocked.”

  “And then,” Todd barges on to avoid discussing Iggy’s accusation, “Frank avoided me for six weeks because Iggy made him choose between him and me. The same thing is going to happen with Anthony; I just know it!”

  Although sensitive about the topic, Dean will not let Todd pass over such a volatile accusation. “Whoa, back up, son. Have his boyfriends accused you of being straight?”

  “Iggy told everyone I was a strai—a cu—cunt—hammer—.” Todd closes his eyes, trying not to cry. “And he’s not the only one. Just about every boy Frank’s ever dated has said that about me.” Shaking his head in disbelief, he adds, “They never say it to my face, of course, but Crystal tells me everything.”

  “Is Frank aware of this?”

  Todd shrugs.

  “I plan to ask him,” Dean says.

  Todd opens his eyes, fear evident. “Please, Papa Dean—no.” He sighs. “It’s going to be strained enough between Frank and me as it is. After he’s done talking to Anthony, I’m willing to bet you won’t be seeing me around here for a good month—at the very least.” Looking down at his feet, Todd concludes, “Anthony is not the type to put up with competition.”

 

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