Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles)

by Derrick, Zoey

  He opens his door and climbs out. The evening air is warmer and I watch as Eric throws his jacket in the car. His sleeves are on full display. “Besides, with you dressed like that, no one will pay any attention to me.”

  “Should I do my hair up real quick?” he teases.

  “Oh god, talk about giving them heart attacks,” I tease him back and roll up my own sleeves before walking around the car and heading into Sammie’s.

  “Good lord, nothing’s changed in this fucking town,” I mutter as I look around the bar. It’s the same fucking thing it was back in high school. The same wooden stools, faux leather booths, though the pool table looks worn, it’s been replaced since I was in here last and the smell of stale beers and peanuts rings heavy.

  “What can I do for you fellers?”

  “Sammie?” I say to the old graying man behind the bar.

  “That’s me, who the hell are you?” I watch as he stands up a little straighter, all eyes seem to have turned to me, and I want to roll mine.

  “Calvin.”

  I watch as recognition hits Sammie and half the people in the bar, among other weird unnamed emotions that float through their wide eyes. “Well, holy dog shit, look what the cat dragged in,” Sammie says as he walks around the bar. My father spent so much time in this bar, drunk off of his fucking ass, that I’d ride my bike up here to drive his drunken ass home. “Good lord, you’ve grown up,” Sammie says as he takes my hand and pulls me into a hug. “Sorry about your dad,” he whispers in my ear. “I’d hoped you’d come home.”

  “Thanks Sammie.” I pull back from him and nod toward Eric. “Sam, I’d like you to meet Eric Richardson. Eric, this is Sammie, obviously. He owns this joint.”

  “Nice to meet you, Eric. How do you two know each other?”

  “From California,” Eric says.

  “No shit?” Sammie can’t hide his surprise. “So that’s where you been hiding all these years.”

  “Something like that,” I grumble, not wanting to go into details.

  “Come on, take a seat. What can I get ya?” Sammie asks as he escorts us to an open table.

  “A pitcher would be great,” I tell him and Eric nods his agreement.

  “You got it.”

  Our meal is good, just like I remember, adding to the fact that nothing changes in this town.

  Eventually people get over their shock and fear and start coming over, expressing their condolences and saying hello to me like we’re long lost friends. Some I’ve gone to high school with, others I’ve managed to remember, eventually, from dealings with my father.

  When we’re done, we head back to the farm house. I feel relief when I notice that there is only one car in the driveway, I’m assuming it’s Mary-Beth’s. “We won’t stay long,” I tell Eric when we pull up. “I’m exhausted and losing steam on my ability to smile and be cordial to people.”

  “We stay as long as we need to,” he tells me with a smile. I lean over the console and cup his bearded cheek.

  “If you ever shave this off, I might get disappointed,” I tease him as I run my fingers through it and pull him toward me, kissing him, finding my center and my salvation in a single kiss.

  I pull back, getting worked up before stepping back inside this house is the last thing I want to do. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get this over with so we can be alone.”

  I smile. “I like the sound of that.”

  We both climb out of the car and walk up the porch, the door is open and the screen door is the only thing in our way. “Mary-Beth?” I call out.

  “Come on in, Calvin,” she says from inside the house and Eric opens the door for me.

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  “The kitchen,” she says back and we turn left, into the dining room and then on into the kitchen.

  Sitting on the kitchen table is a thick envelope of something, though I have no idea what it is. But written on the outside in my father’s chicken scratch is my name. “What’s this, Mary-Beth?” I ask and she sets down whatever is in her hands and comes around the counter. She’s an older lady, about my father’s age, and she’s definitely not getting any younger.

  “Your father put that together when he got his diagnosis. He wanted you to have it, though he wanted to give it to you himself.”

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t come.” It’s true, I couldn’t come, not with the tour needing to be finished and then my working to get Eric back and everything else, it honestly got lost in the shuffle of my life in California.

  “Oh, I know, dear, it’s alright.”

  “Can I ask you something, Mary-Beth?” I ask her as Eric and I take a seat and she joins us.

  “Sure,” she says confidently.

  “When you called, to tell me he was sick and ask me to come home, did you honestly know what you were asking of me?”

  She puts her head down a little in shame. “He told me, what he done to you. About sending you away.”

  “Did he tell you why he sent me away?”

  “Because he thought he was doing the right thing. Because he thought that if he sent you away that you would come home to him, the boy he wanted you to be.” She looks up, bringing her hand across the table to take mine. “I was so angry with him when I found out. I made it my mission to try and figure out a way to bring the two of you back together.”

  “So you know that he sent Calvin away because he’s gay?” Eric interjects and she squeezes my hand.

  “I do,” she says, honesty dripping off of her in waves. “I think it was awful what he done and I don’t think he honestly knew how to handle it. He thought that if he had a gay son that he’d have no one to pass the farm down to.”

  I shake my head in disgust. “He was one selfish son of a bitch.”

  “Please don’t say that,” Mary-Beth interjects. “Your father knew early on that he’d messed up with you, with how he raised you and then he just threw you away like you were an empty bottle.”

  “You haven’t a clue what he put me through sending me to that place,” I tell her, pulling my hand from hers and standing up. I need to move, to pace, anything. “He never so much as visited me, called me, sent me a letter, nothing. When I walked out of that place, I left, I never came home. How could I come home to a father that was responsible for what happened to me in there?” I’m rambling and I really don’t care. I need to get it off my chest. I look at Eric who is silently giving me encouragement to keep up with my tirade. “I will never forgive him,” I tell Mary-Beth.

  “I know you won’t, and he knew it too. He knew that nothing he could do, say or try would be enough to bring you back into his life. He’d just hoped for the chance to tell you himself. When he was diagnosed, I went on a hunt to find you and it wasn’t until I got to talking to Billy that he agreed to use his connections to do so.”

  “So that’s how you found me?”

  She nods. “He’d given me a number, your number, but I held on to it. Your father fought with me and with himself about calling you, but then he got to be too sick to really care so I stepped in.”

  “What was it that killed him?” I manage to ask.

  “Small cell lung cancer. By the time he’d gotten it diagnosed, it had already spread to his liver, kidneys and was making its way to his brain.”

  “Did he suffer?” I ask.

  “He did,” she says before she starts crying. “I cannot make up for what he done to you, Calvin, but…I am sorry I wasn’t around then, that I had no idea what he was planning to do. I would have stopped him.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything. He tried with his own fists several times before he gave into the white coats,” I mutter.

  “I am so sorry,” she sobs and I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond.

  Eventually Eric fills her in on the arrangements that were made tonight at the home and she gives me the obituary to approve.

  Raymond “Ray” Walter Caldwell, of Maynard, died Friday June 26th with his wife Mary-Be
th at his side.

  Funeral services will be held Wednesday, 11:00am at St. Paul Lutheran Church in Maynard, with graveside at Pinhook Cemetery following.

  Family and Friends may call Monday Evening from 5-7p.m., at Becker-Milnes Funeral Home in Fayette.

  Ray was a hardworking man who lived his entire life outside of Maynard, tilling the land and was a continuous member of the community.

  He is survived by his wife, Mary-Beth and his son Calvin (Eric) Caldwell.

  He was preceded in death by his parents, his sister and his wife Anabell.

  When my eyes read over Eric’s name next to mine, my eyes dart to Mary-Beth. “Are you sure you want this in here?” I ask, pointing to it.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes I do.” New tears form in my eyes as I hand it to Eric to read.

  “He said that he had no idea who you were with or what you were doing, but whatever it was, he wanted it to be included. And now that you two can legally get married, I see no reason why it can’t be in there.”

  I hear Eric’s gasp as he too reaches the part I did.

  “I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean that specifically,” I tell her.

  “Well, you two are together, are you not?” Her voice is light, happy almost.

  “We are,” I admit to the first person, outside of our small group of friends back home, that Eric and I are together and it’s freeing.

  “Good. Then it stays.” She takes the tablet from Eric and sets it down. “I’ll drop this off tomorrow morning.”

  Eric and I both look at each other with a wide smile on our faces. There was once a time when that would scare the ever-loving shit out of me, and now, now I don’t care. For the first time in my life, I can honestly admit that my not caring has nothing to do with being hypnotized. I take comfort in the fact that when this is all over, we can go back to our lives in California and the people of Maynard can go back to turning up their noses.

  We leave the house after that. Much to Mary-Beth’s chagrin, but I think she understood why I couldn’t stay in that house much longer, much less overnight.

  “WELL, this is quaint,” I tease Calvin as we enter our little Super 8 Motel.

  “This is better than the one in town, which, when we drove past it, I’m not sure is open anymore.”

  I set my stuff down. “It doesn’t matter where.” I walk up to him, wrapping my arms around him. “As long as I’m with you.” I lean down and he lifts his chin and I press my lips to his and I feel the tension melt away from his body and into my hold. It doesn’t take long for his breathing to become shallow and my heart to start racing. I’ve missed this. We’ve been so busy, with the move and then the party and everything, that we’ve both fallen into bed exhausted most nights.

  I rub my hands up along his back, hoping he feels the same way I do. I really need to be with him tonight. Show him that he truly is not alone anymore. His breathing hitches a little and I know I’m not pressing too hard for something he doesn’t necessarily want.

  I reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it up. He breaks my hold and our kiss so that I can pull it off of him and he repeats the process with me. His hands glide over my chest and down my stomach until he reaches my waist and the buttons of my jeans. I kiss him again, this time more urgent and lust filled. His answering kiss is equally as urgent and we’re both lost in arms, mouths, hands and tongues as we do everything we can to strip each other.

  When we’re both sort of satisfied, we part again, kicking off shoes and pants before falling onto the bed. I tower over him, pressing his back into the bed as I kiss along his jaw, toward his ear and then down his neck. He tilts his head, giving me access to the spot I love most on him. That sweet spot where the shoulder and neck come together. I kiss it, then nibble on it. He writhes beneath me.

  Thrusting his hips upward, our cocks rub together and my eyes roll up. His hands glide up my back, sending goosebumps everywhere as he brings his hands around to my chest. I shiver and start kissing my way down his chest, toward his stomach. My beard tickles him and he squirms with a breathy laugh and I smile, purposefully rubbing it against him. “That is so mean.” He squirms and I smile as I go back to kissing my way down his stomach, getting closer to my destination.

  When I reach it, I decide to tease him a little more and I let out a warm breath, and his cock jumps up at me. “Mmm,” I moan as I take him into my mouth.

  He hisses above me as my tongue dances around the crown and I toy with his barbell and give him little nibbles with my teeth.

  His hand slides into my hair, dislodging the tie holding it back, and he takes my head in both his hands, holding and guiding me to suck down further along his cock and I give him a small smile as I swallow him down, putting him in the back of my throat. I swallow a couple of times, and he moans above me before I pull up on his cock.

  I take his sack in my hand and start to play with the happy spot just below them, working my finger down further. He lifts his hips, urging me downward. I release his cock and trade it with my finger, looking at him as he watches me suck on it, getting it wet before returning it back to his entrance and his eyes roll up.

  “Please?” he begs and I can’t say no to that.

  I reposition his legs on my shoulders and push him up. His hips relax and he bends for me, giving me all the access I need before I slide my finger inside. “Eric,” he cries out and I shiver at my name on his lips.

  I rake my nails lightly down his chest before taking his cock in my other hand, and stroking him in time with my finger in and out of him. He writhes, and I feel his cock pulsing with the pleasure I’m giving him until he stills my hand. “I don’t want to come like this, not tonight,” he tells me softly.

  “Tell me what you want,” I tell him.

  “I want to take you.”

  Pleasure radiates all over me, sending shivers through my entire body at his request. “Please?” I ask and he smiles before pulling himself off of my hand and rolling over and off of the bed. I lay down on my back, and he goes into the bag, pulling out a bottle of lube.

  We ditched the condoms after his hypnosis and haven’t gone back since. I think it was, in our own little way, our signifying a commitment between us.

  He climbs back on the bed, tossing a towel next to my hip. I shiver and smile at him as I take my cock in my hand, stroking gently on it while he gets himself ready. I watch as he rubs himself up and down. Mutual masturbation hasn’t ever been something we’ve done, neither one of us can seem to keep their hands off of the other long enough to make it work.

  When he’s ready, he cleans his hands on the towel and puts my legs up on his shoulders. “Oh god,” I groan as he presses himself against me, lifting my hips up to give him better access and I go with him as he pushes into me. His cock slides all the way inside in one thrust. “Oh fuck.” I stroke my cock harder, gripping it firmly and Calvin takes my hips in his hands to guide me along his shaft and I groan.

  The pleasure he elicits from me as he pounds into and out of me is almost too much to maintain straight thoughts. His hand quickly replaces mine on my cock, but I fight the urge to come. “I have an idea.” I smile at him.

  His eyes roll around in his head momentarily before finding mine. “Oh?”

  “I want you to ride me,” I tell him and I can see the idea creep over him, much the way his idea did me and he pulls himself from me. I find the bottle and lube myself up while he cleans up and switches positions. Straddling me, he reaches between us, taking my cock in his hand and lining himself up to slide down my cock. Watching his cock bounce, I can’t keep my hand away anymore. I take it in my hand and watch as he settles down on top of me.

  The pleasure is evident, not only in the lust filled expression on his face but the drops of pre-cum falling from his cock. I rub my thumb up over his barbell as he bottoms out inside me. He settles, and I stroke his cock slowly before he starts to move up and down my shaft. “Fuck,” he cries out as he pushes down and pulls up at t
he same time as I stroke his cock. “Jesus Eric, this is…oh my god.” His eyes close and pleasure rocks through him, racing through his veins as he slides up and down on top of me.

  Taken by the pleasure he’s giving me, I stop moving my hand along his shaft, but he helps by putting his hand over mine. “I want your cum on me.” I groan as he slams back down on me and I start to match his thrusts. He pulls my hand off of his cock and he leans forward, pressing his hands on my chest as he brings his hips to grind against mine.

  “Fuck!” I throw my head back and Calvin claims my mouth, swallowing my cries.

  “I want to fuck you, come for me,” he whispers in my ear as I explode inside him. He moans and shudders on top of me, swallowing me whole before stilling and then extracting me from him. “Roll over,” he says and I lazily do so but I’m not a two hit wonder. He knows that, but he also knows that I can’t stop until he’s fully satisfied.

  It only takes him a moment before he’s lining up, pushing himself inside me and I can’t help but take my soft cock in my hand, stroking it gently as he starts pounding into me. My cries of pleasure fill the room as Calvin isn’t very gentle. My cock gets hard as steel once again and I stroke myself harder, hoping to find a second release, but it doesn’t come before Calvin is crying out my name and exploding inside me.

  WE showered and snuggled into bed after that. Though he did wake me up a couple hours later, spooning me, and we both got off for a second time, we never left each other’s arms that night.

  We spent Sunday at the farm house with Mary-Beth and a constant flow of people, casseroles and flowers. The day was hard enough as it was without having people telling me how sorry they were. When Billy showed up, this time without his wife, he asked me to talk, outside and alone. I reluctantly agreed.

  He’d brought me out there, asking me about where I’d really been, saying that when Mary-Beth asked about looking me up, I didn’t have a record and it didn’t make sense to him anymore that I had been locked up.