Works and Days

Christmas

2

“Don’t go,” Ted murmured.

“Theodore, I haven’t gone anywhere yet.”

“But you’re about to go. Just…. Let’s stay here.”

“Aren’t you going to your family’s house?” Chayne said.

In Ted’s apartment outside of town, they lay together in the large bed, Ted’s arms were about Chayne’s waist.

He murmured into Chayne’s back, “You feel so damn good.”

“And you feel amazing,” Chayne said. “And this feels amazing.”

“Let’s,” Ted began, not even moving his face from Chayne’s back, “make the decision that next Christmas we can just do this all day.”

Chayne, who had a hard enough time leaving Ted’s king sized bed, turned around to face the other man and kiss his mouth, touching his hand to his rough cheek.

“That,” Chayne said, “sounds like a plan.”

Ted blinked at Chayne sleepily and turned from him to yawn.

“Let’s at least have coffee before you go.”

“Yes,” Chayne said. “Let’s.”

 

 

Geoff Ford stretched and blinked, joyous on Christmas morning. The clock said that it was just a little before nine. He could smell Ann’s cooking and coffee and this made him so happy he could forgive the fact that Father Robert, in leaving town had left him with all the Christmas masses.

He was coming out of his room when he saw Ann yawning and coming out of hers.

“That smells great,” he told her before he realized that if Ann was just waking upstairs, she couldn’t very well be cooking downstairs.

“Wow,” said Ann. “Kind of makes you wonder who’s cooking? Doesn’t it?”

Geoff didn’t answer. They were both quiet a few minutes before Geoff said, “I’ll go down first.”

In the back of his mind he was thinking that maybe this was some sort of mad kitchen killer who whipped up marvelous meals before murdering priests and abducting their sisters. His brain ran down all sorts of interesting avenues as he entered the dining room with service for three laid out. Ann followed him.

The kitchen door swung open and out came Denise Mc.Larchlahn with a stack of pancakes.

“Don’t worry,” Denise said, smiling. “There’s more to come. we’re just getting started.”

She put down the pancakes and tickled Geoff Ford’s belly. “We need to get something in your tummy before you start preaching, Father. Merry Christmas!”

 

There was a tap at Russell’s door. He said, “Open,” and then realized it wasn’t, and crossed the room to turn the handle.

“John,” said Russell. “We were all—”

“Do you need a ride to church? I’ll drive. I’ll let you drive.”

“Uh,” Russell nodded his head. “Yeah, okay.”

“You look nice.”

Russell had on black slacks and a white shirt, plain enough, with a red tie. A black blazer lay draped on the bed, and his very red hair was parted and hanging to his shoulders. He figured it would contrast with the jacket.

“Thanks,” Russell told his uncle, but had to acknowledge, “You don’t look great at all. Should we talk?”

John was wearing last night’s jeans and sweater. He looked a little dumbstruck, his thick lips hanging open, eyes opaque, and his hair a bit of a mess.

“No.” he said, distractedly. “Just get ready and be downstairs as soon as possible. Alright?”

“Alright,” Russell said, and shrugged.

 

 “Merry Christmas, Jackie.”

Sharon Kandzierski answered the door.

Noting the confused look on Jaclyn Lewis’s face, Sharon tilted her head and said, “Jaclyn, are you alrright?”

“Is Felice here?”

“We’re all here. I think Felice is in the kitchen.”

No one in the living room acknowledged the white woman, except that Edmund Prince looked up for a second to wonder who she was. In the kitchen, Chayne and Felice were sitting at the table swapping stories with Pethane and Jean, and Mickey was leaning against the refrigerator

“Merry Christmas, Jackie,” said Chayne, a question in his voice.

Felice asked the question after introducing Jackie to Pethane and Jean.

“Can you talk for a second?”

Felice took Jackie by the elbow.

“We can go to Sharon’s room.”

“You can stay right here,” said Chayne. “I need to get over to the church anyway. Come on, family, clear out.”

When they were gone, Jackie held out her hand and said, “Give me a cigarette,” and then they moved to the table and sat down.

“Last night, after Mass—”

“Wasn’t it beautiful?” Felice remarked in her deep voice.

“Yes it was,” Jackie skipped over that, lighting her Newport.

“John was being all romantic, and he wanted us to sneak off to my apartment. I said no. We went back to Thom and Patti’s. You know, with the family. Then we went walking, had a snow ball fight. Went back to my place, talked a lot, drank cider—and liquor—and started to kiss. And it felt so good. I think John’s only kissed me once, and it was... before Russell was born. It just felt so good. This man I’ve wanted for over half my life. And we thought we should stop, but I didn’t want to... You know? I just wanted to throw caution to the wind—”

“Oh, my God,” Felice barked, clasping her hands together in joy. “You fucked him!”

Jackie’s mouth flew open and then she gave her friend a withering glance.

“I—we made... love.”

“Call it what you will, why are you here all crazy and distressed?”

“Oh my God,” Jackie took a final drag off the cigarette. “It was so—good! It was so the way I would have imagined it if I dared to imagine having sex with John. It was the most wonderful time of my life. I had wanted to let go with him for a long time, and we let go.”

“I bet you did.”

“Would you not!”

“I’m just trying to be a friend.”

“But when I woke up this morning it was different.”

“It was real.”

Jackie, quiet, thought about that then agreed, “Yeah. It was real, and I couldn’t believe what I had done. I couldn’t face it. I still can’t face it. I mean, I really care about John, but... I... I wish now that it hadn’t have happened.”

“Well does Patricia know?”

Jackie nodded.

“What did she say?”

“Not much. After I told her and was about to start talking, John came back in the house.”

“And?”

“And then I ran away.”

Felice cocked her head at her friend in disbelief.

“You mean to tell me you’ve spent all Christmas morning running from this man?”

Jackie didn’t answer.

“Jackie! Jaclyn!”

“I was....” Jackie played with her hands, “afraid.”

Felice was quiet a while. Finally she spoke.

“Jaclyn, you never fu—you never had sex with Chip did you?” Felice said.

“No,” Jackie shook her head. “That was one of the things he complained about.”

“Oh my God,” Felice shook her own head. “This is one hell of a Christmas Present.”         

 

“Did you stay for Mass?” Russell asked John when he was climbing into the truck.

“No,” John murmured sullenly. “I just... drove around. You wanna drive around?”

Russell could not explain how he did not really want to drive around with John and yet felt he had to. He didn’t want to feel the pain John was feeling, but he didn’t want John to feel it alone.

“Yeah.” he said.

They drove through town, beyond Westhaven and the mall, south of Keyworthy and then south altogether until they were around Lake Chicktaw, and the whole time John’s silent mood reminded Russell of his time here with Thom.  

“Let’s switch seats,” John said.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Russell told his uncle as he moved to the driver’s side. John’s seat felt hot to Russell.

“Don’t worry,” said John.

Here, the world was all black branches and whiteness. In December it was hard to believe in greenery. Back in town the black road rose out of grey slush.

“Not that way Russell. To the right. To the right. Did you hear me? Ease up on the gas. Don’t be a lead foot.”

John was an impatient teacher today, and Russell was a nervous driver at the best of times, so after another ten minutes of this, surprised whenever he found himself keeping a straight line, Russell said:

“Do you want to do this yourself?”

His palms wet and he was shaking anyway. He didn’t want to He had no business driving on Arlan Avenue.

John didn’t answer. Not until Russell screwed up again.

“God, Russell, you’re almost sixteen. You’ll never get a license like this. No. No, you shit. God you’re stupid.”

Russell braked the car. It screeched on Bunting Street. “You take the wheel.”

“No. You take it. I told you to drive.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Drive!”

Russell stared down at John in wonder, “What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded.

John slapped Russell in his face.

Russell stared at John, and then John stared at his hand, and then Russell opened the car door and climbed out. The light was still red. He backed onto the corner of Bunting and then just started walking. He knew when the light was green John would turn and look for him, so he headed down the alley between the bank and the car port. In the middle of this alley the buildings made a strange courtyard of gravel and other little snowbound alleys reached out to the streets. Russell could take any one. John would never be able to find him.