A Way Out

Grady pedaled slowly, for his legs were so tired he wasn’t sure he would make it home. It was after seven, later than usual for getting off work, but a trucker came in late, and Jasper got him to stay to help with the repair. There were days the job at Bridges Diesel Repair were not difficult, but today had not been one of them. The only good thing about working late was traffic being lighter, and he easily made his way through town to the south side. He rode on Elm Lane, the road that ran parallel with Main Street, all the way down past the commercial strip with the grocery store his sister, Claire, worked. Below the commercial strip, Elm curved over to intersect Main right at the city’s limits. From there, it was another seven miles to his home.

As he rode past the shopping center, the back of the shops facing Elm, with their faded paint, pallets scattered across the broken pavement, and graffiti too stylized to read covering the walls, there was a sadness made manifest by the dilapidated condition of the center. He wondered how his sister’s shift was going, knowing the closing one could be the worst. Rushed and busy at first, but near closing, only a few customers straggling in. Then some had to do cleaning before they could leave for the night. It was Claire’s late shift that had him riding his bike, for she only dropped him off and picked him up on day’s her schedule allowed, which wasn’t nearly as often as he hoped.

Elm curved to Main, and he slowed, looking back then ahead, hoping to time his approach to the intersection where he didn’t have to stop. A box van was coming from town with a line of cars behind it, and he slowed to stop, realizing there was no way he could beat them. The line was too long to fall in behind them without stopping. He stood over his bike, breathing hard and legs wobbly, watching the traffic pass, until a gap finally appeared, and he stood on the pedals and resumed riding.

It took nearly thirty minutes to make the ride for he was coasting as much as possible, and when pedaling, doing so at a leisurely pace. There was no rush to get home, for all he had to look forward to was preparing his own dinner and watching television until time for bed, which was about the time Claire would get home, so there was a chance they wouldn’t even see each other.

The place Claire and he called home was an old farmhouse that sat in the woods off Lofton Road, a narrow slag road that had been dirt only ten years ago. The county finally deciding its upkeep was worse than the cost of paving it, so it was now paved, but there had been little improvements otherwise, not even a widening, leaving it an unmarked road. About a mile down it to his home. It was a small house, with a living room, kitchen large enough for a table against one wall, and two bedrooms between a small bath. But for its smallness, it was still more than enough for Claire and Grady, for it was just the two of them. Their parents died four years earlier, leaving Grady in Claire’s care, who had just graduated from high school. It was hard on them, both having low paying jobs and barely making ends meet. The house had been the Meadows’ residence and was now owned by the great-granddaughter, Mrs. Garrison, who lived most of her life in town, and rented it to the two siblings cheaply. She just wanted the house kept up, and not allowed to deteriorate.

Grady entered the dark house, switching on the living room light as he carried his bike inside. He showered, slipping on clean gym shorts and a tank top, then made dinner for himself. He ate at the small table, facing the wall, his mind nearly blank with the boredom of his life. There was a feeling of loneliness welling up in the silence of the house, something that at times felt overwhelming.

Grade school had not been much better, always one of the poor kids, but for years he didn’t realize his lot in life for his parents made them feel important, that they mattered. That changed the summer after his eighth-grade year, when the sheriff showed up at their door, telling them there had been a wreck. After that, school became a torture, a place that reminded him daily of his being orphaned, left in the care of his sister, who was only eighteen and working at the grocery store. They got evicted from the house that had been home to them, and with rents in town what they were, their only option was a place outside it. It was a fluke, some casual comment made to Mrs. Garrison at the grocery store, and they found themselves in a house they could afford. The only problem was the seven mile drive out of town.

The move caused a change of school for Grady, one where he wasn’t bullied, merely ignored. Although tempted to drop out when he was able, he endured school until his graduation, feeling like he had to accomplish something, even if it was just his diploma.

He had to be at work at seven, so at ten he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Teeth brushed, he stared at his reflection, wondering who was looking back. He was eighteen, considered a man now but looked at the reflection and wondered if that were true. He pushed his hair back, always too long, always in need of cutting, but it hung over his forehead concealing his eyes when the need arose. At work, it occurred often.

In many aspects, Grady considered himself average. He was five foot, nine, lean build that had been skinny until about a year ago when his labors at the shop, part time during school, and now full time, caused him to fill out. He had green eyes, a shade of green that was nothing special. He avoided smiling for his teeth were not perfect, two slightly out of alignment. All through school, he saw the others with perfect teeth or with orthodontal work to make them so, and it made him even more self-conscious.

He had just turned out his light when he heard Claire drive around the house and park. He lay in the dark, listening to her come in the back door, then occasional sounds in the kitchen, then the pad of feet into the hall with the bathroom door closing soon after. He never heard her come out, his fatigue too much to lay awake any longer, and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

“Grady, time to get up,” Claire called out after knocking on his door a couple of times.

“What…the alarm hasn’t gone off.”

“Come on get up. I can take you today, and I thought we could grab a biscuit at Hardee’s on the way,” her voice called out from somewhere in the house.

“I thought you had to close,” Grady replied as he sat up, pushed the hair out of his face, and rubbed his eyes.

“Susan wanted to switch, so I’m off today,” sticking her head into his room.

He climbed out of bed and went to his dresser pulling out jeans and a work shirt. He went to the bathroom and after taking a piss and brushing his teeth, slipped on his clothes and went to the kitchen were Claire waited, dressed casually in shorts and a t-shirt. She smiled as she did most mornings, despite their lot in life. She was the one who looked for the bright side of things, that silver lining Grady never seemed able to find. Although they shared the same features, hers were softer, more rounded, as if the rough edges were sanded off.

“You going to see if David is free today?” asked Grady, referring to her boyfriend. He worked at the hardware store in town, moved up to a sales associate, but still not making much. In this small town, no one was unless they owned their own business, and maybe not even then. Claire and David had been dating nearly a year, and for Claire, it seemed serious this time. Grady liked David but wished his sister could have found someone with a better job, knowing those guys weren’t interested in some poor girl from the country, working as a cashier at the grocery store.

“He gets off work about the same time as you, so I’ll pick you up and by the time we get back, he should be getting here. Let’s go, I’m starving and let’s not be in a rush to eat.”

As Claire drove through town, Grady looked at the familiar scenery passing by. It seemed so ordinary, so mundane, but he wished Claire and he knew of it firsthand. At the next intersection, he saw Paul and Rachel sitting at the light in his Jeep. With the top and doors off, they were completely visible, and he saw them holding hands, as they talked. There were smiles passed between them, then Rachel giggling, a hand quickly covering her mouth. It looked so innocent, so romantic, a boy and a girl heading to work or off on a trip or just driving around looking so normal it made Grady look away.

He tried not to think of it, for it would only depress him more to do so. He had looked at Paul and Rachel, two former classmates, and wondered what it would be like, to be in Paul’s shoes, dating a girl. He couldn’t imagine it. Not that there weren’t girls who flirted with him, or made some insinuation, a comment of a willingness to go out with him. The problem was he wasn’t interested in them. He thought of Paul and Rachel again, how they were interacting, and knew he would replace Rachel, not Paul, in his fantasy scenario. He would hold Paul’s hand, laugh at his jokes, and when alone, kiss his lips and do those other things he only could imagine.

It was his secret, one he was scared to share with anyone, even Claire.

After their stop for breakfast, Claire pulled in front of the shop and reached into her small purse.

“Here, take this for lunch,” holding out a twenty.

“Claire, I’ve got a few dollars on me.”

“Grady, I got a raise, so take it and eat a decent lunch. Go to the diner for something better than a burger and fries,” pushing the twenty into his hand.

Grady smiled, nodding his head as he slipped the twenty in his pocket. “I get off at five, but don’t rush to get here.”

“I’ll see you at five, little brother. Now get out; you’re letting the gnats in,” Claire joked.

Grady watched her pull away, then went to clock in and get to work.

When the time came to break for lunch, Chuck and Buddy went with Grady across the street to the diner. It was a treat for Grady, usually the cost more than he felt comfortable spending, when Claire and he had to scrimp and save as much as possible for the unexpected expenses. Doctor visits, parts for Claire’s old Ford Escort and one of the window units finally giving out and needing replacement. He listened to Chuck and Buddy banter back and forth, about work, fishing up on Wilson Creek or in Mr. Hank’s fishpond, or some gossip about someone Grady didn’t know. It didn’t matter, for it was nice to just be with them, to listen to this normal conversation. Something Claire enabled by giving him the twenty, not realizing he had less than five dollars on him that morning. He didn’t know what he would do without her, for she was all the family he had left. There was a grandfather over in Jackson, but a falling out with his son, Grady’s father, back in 2012 ended any chance of a relationship with him. There was an aunt and uncle in Atlanta, his mother’s sister and husband, who hadn’t even come to his parent’s funeral, the reason Grady didn’t know, for their mother never spoke of it. Life was hard enough, and without Claire he didn’t know if he could do it; get up each day and live.

He looked forward to the evening, when David would come over and they would grill hamburgers or hot dogs and sit outside until the mosquitoes forced them in, and he would then retire to his room, giving them time alone.

Saturday arrived cooler than usual, fall giving a glimpse of what was to come. Grady watched Claire ease out, heading to work, and he cleared up their breakfast dishes, washing them in the sink, then placing them in the drying rack. With shoes slipped on, he headed outside to mow grass. The house sat in a small clearing in the woods, and he mowed up to the tree line, letting nature have the rest, then cut the narrow strips along the drive out to the highway and the ditch around the drive and mailbox. It took nearly two hours, and he was sweating profusely, despite the cooler temperatures.

A quick shower and dressed in shorts and tank top, he pulled out his bike. He was going to ride to town and get a burger or chicken sandwich at one of the fast-food joints. They were out of bread and sandwich meat, something Claire was going to pick up once she got clocked out. He rode leisurely, taking his time, for he didn’t want to be too sweaty when he arrived in town. He coasted when the grade allowed and pedaled along when it didn’t.

Grady arrived at half past the noon hour, and the fast-food restaurant was busy, a line cutting back and forth between the railings, and a group waiting for orders to be handed out. The dining room was over half full, and cars lined around the building going through the drive thru. Bike cable locked to a newspaper stand, he went inside and got in line.

The line moved at a continuous pace and soon, Grady was walking into the dining area, plastic tray in hand. The booths were full and only a few tables in the middle of the room were available. He sat at a two-top and glanced around the room. He recognized faces, but no one he really knew, and he turned his attention to the chicken sandwich and fries on the tray.

The movement of people coming in and leaving captured Grady’s eye, seeing if he knew any of them. Mrs. Caswell came in, a customer at the shop where they kept her old Mercedes-Benz running, and Elizabeth, Karen and Charlie came in, old classmates from his days living in town. They looked his way, then just as simply, looked away, and he wondered if they even remembered him, the poor kid who lost his parents and had to move away after being evicted. A farmer came in with his young son in tow, and Grady tried to remember who they were, for he had seen them around.

The door swung open and someone else came in, someone Grady knew very well. One of his high school classmates: Curtis. The guy who had been second baseman, who was quiet, easy going, who had no enemies. He had even been nice to Grady when their paths crossed, speaking when others simply ignore him. The perfect boy, who happened to date the perfect girl, Rebecca. They started dating in the eleventh grade and everyone assumed they would marry after graduation. Therefore, Grady was somewhat surprised to see Curtis come in alone. He had such a serious expression, which surprised Grady, for he couldn’t think of a time Curtis wasn’t smiling. He watched him get in line, letting himself appraise the physical attributes again. They were around the same height, but Curtis had a more muscular body, no doubt from working out in the school’s gym and working on his father’s farm. Then there was the thick, wavy black hair and the brown eyes to go with it. Grady couldn’t stop himself from watching Curtis move in the line, currently going away from him. It let him watch the round ass move in the tight jeans, and he watched so long he feared someone around him had noticed.

When Curtis turned, coming toward him, Grady looked down and took another bite of sandwich, trying to act nonchalant. Glancing up, he saw how the t-shirt was stretched over the chest, the masculine form underneath so evident it made him feel short of breath. And jealous. He was so lean, flat from neck to waist, that his clothes hung loose, and he wondered what it would be like to have a body like Curtis. Then he wondered what it would be like to have a body like that in his bed. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and turned his eyes down, telling himself to stop looking. But he did look, often, until Curtis was taking his tray of food from the woman behind the counter.

Grady focused on eating, dipping a fry in ketchup, and biting off the covered end. He dipped it again and started to put the remaining fry in his mouth when he realized someone was standing right in front of him. He looked up to see Curtis standing at his table.

“Grady, hey…I was wondering if you would mind sharing a table. The place seems to be full,” asked Curtis.

“What?” Grady replied, looking around, realizing the dining room was even more crowded than before. He looked up at Curtis, who waited on his response. “You want to sit with me?”

“If it’s a problem, I can…”

“NO, no, that’s not what I meant. I…didn’t think you’d want to be seen with me. That’s all.”

Curtis smiled, but it didn’t appear to be one of humor, and he nodded. “I get it. We didn’t treat you the best in school.”

“But you can sit…I mean…you never treated me like shit, like…”

“Greg and Harris?” Curtis interjected, as he set his tray down then sat.

“Yeah.”

Grady watched Curtis rip open ketchup packets, squeezing it out on the cardboard container the fries came in. He watched the long fingers work the foil packets from one end to the other. When Curtis unwrapped his sandwich, Grady went back to eating, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound dumb.

“How’s Rebecca?”

“Rebecca? Well…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry; just forget it.”

“No, it’s okay, and I guess it’s not surprising you haven’t heard. We broke up right after graduation.”

“OH, I’m sorry.”

“That’s twice you have said that,” Curtis replied, smiling his most friendly since they met.

Grady became aware of Curtis’ eyes looking at him. Not just making eye contact, but scanning over his body, and he wondered what he thought. Was it foolish for him to wear a tank top when he was still so lean in build? Was his tousled hair too messed up, showing the bad cut his sister had done last time? The eyes moved down, and he saw them look at his hands, with his long skinny fingers and the grease stains that seemed imbedded in his skin and under the nails, reflecting the work they were subjected to. Was Curtis judging him?

“Are you helping your dad on the farm?” changing the subject.

“Some, but my older brother is the one who’ll really settle into farming with dad.”

“What are you going to do?”

Curtis shrugged his shoulders, then took a bite of his burger.

“Rebecca figured out I wasn’t as motivated as her to succeed. You know, get some college degree for a high paying career, so…she left a couple of weeks ago for college.”

“You’re not going to college?”

“I started to go. I did the applications, applied for scholarships and student loans, the whole shebang, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know. I like working with my hands, so maybe landscaping or gardening at a different scale, something like that. It’s just…I don’t want to live here.”

“Really? Where would you move?”

“California? Maybe south Florida, or…I don’t know. Just somewhere other than this place,” Curtis replied, with a tone that sounded hurt.

“Sounds nice.”

Curtis chuckled, shaking his head. “Not to my old man. He has raised hell about me turning down acceptance at a couple of universities. And I admit I’m possibly looking at a harder life, but it would be mine,” then he stopped, and looked curiously at Grady. “You really think it’s nice?”

“Yes.”

“What about you? What are you doing?”

“I’m still working at Bridges, just full time now.”

“Bridges? The diesel repair shop on the north side of town?”

“Yep, been there since last summer.”

“You like it?”

Grady scoffed, shaking his head, then he looked at Curtis, locking eyes with him, “it’s a job and for some of us, that is something.”

“It’s just your sister and you?”

“Yes.”

“Must have been tough.”

“More than you can imagine.”

Curtis picked up his burger and took a bite, as he locked eyes with Grady. It made Grady uncomfortable, diverting his eyes, unsure how to feel about Curtis’ stare.

“You dating anyone? I never saw you go out with anyone in high school. I know Cindy and Julie tried to get you to ask them out.”

“No, I’m not seeing anyone, and I know there were some who would have gone out with me, but…” Grady stammered, unsure how to answer without getting too close to the truth.

“But you weren’t interested? I understand. Not everyone fits the bill, right?”

“Plus, who would go out with me if they knew I’m barely scrapping by, working in a diesel repair shop as a flunky?”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

Grady saw the look Curtis gave him and he shyly turned his eyes down, unable to maintain their stare, for he saw the empathy, or was it pity, the latter he couldn’t tolerate. But the former unnerved him.

“You think David and your sister are serious?” Curtis asked, making Grady relieved for the change in subject.

“You know David?”

“A first cousin. His family calls him the black sheep. I think it’s because he is too progressive in his ideas and doesn’t hold to their old prejudices. As to his dating your sister, I think that is a nice thing. They seem good together.”

“You’ve been with them?”

“A month ago, now. It was a family reunion of sorts. An aunt and uncle were here from California and the family in the area got together for a cookout.”

“Claire never mentioned it.”

“I think she was a bit overwhelmed, and they did stay to the side of things. Can’t say that I blamed them.”

Grady finished his drink and wadded up the wrapper for his sandwich. “I should go.”

“Yeah, okay. See you around?”

It was a question, one that required a response. But Grady didn’t know how to respond, thinking their encounter was pure chance, and it wouldn’t happen again.

“Yeah…see you around,” Grady replied as he stood, picking up his tray. He saw the look on Curtis’ face and knew Curtis read his tone, that he thought them meeting again was unlikely.

That night, the house quiet with Claire on a date, Grady lay on the sofa staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t see the reflections of the glitter in the sprayed finish, or the small stain from a previous roof leak, or the shadows cast across its surface from the light fixture centered in the room. Instead he saw Curtis. Saw Curtis looking back at him. He saw judgment, an appraisal that made him angry. But then he reconsidered how Curtis continued to talk to him, and it didn’t make sense. Was Curtis looking at him not in judgment, but for another reason? Maybe it was just studying this person that he had never taken seriously before. Maybe it was to check him out, and Grady scoffed aloud at the thought.

The next Wednesday, Grady was helping Jasper with a water pump install on an old Freightliner. They were the only ones in the shop, for Travis, the owner, was on vacation, and Chuck had gone for parts and Buddy was out in the wrecker to tow back a pickup from some construction site. Jasper leaned over the motor, aligning the pump.

“Hand me the bolts,” said Jasper.

“Here,” dropping the bolts into the outstretched hand.

Grady watched, waiting to see how he could help while Jasper secured the water pump. A diesel pick-up pulled up to the open garage bay, and Grady looked around to see an old Ford F-350 dually.

“Jasper?”

“Go on and see what they need. Just let them know we can’t get to anything until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Grady replied, with an anxiousness in his voice, for he never liked dealing with customers, especially those he didn’t know. He headed toward the truck and nearly froze when he saw Curtis climb out of it.

“Hey Grady,” Curtis called out, as he moved around to the front of the truck.

“Curtis? What do you need?”

“This is Chris’ old truck. He’s got to haul a tractor to his property over in Monroe County next week and needs it fixed. He thinks it is the fuel pump, for it is running rough.”

“I heard,” Grady replied, cutting his eyes to the truck. Then he looked back at Curtis. A plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off revealing the muscular arms. He couldn’t help but stare longer than he should, and when he looked up, Curtis was smiling at him.

“It’ll be tomorrow before anyone can look at it.”

“Okay, when you can. Just have them call Chris when they know what is wrong.”

“Come into the office so I can write everything down,” said Grady. He sensed Curtis behind him, every step of the way, and he went through the door without looking back. The airconditioned office felt good after the heat of the shop, even if the unit struggled to cool the room with its large windows on front and side.

Grady eased around the raised counter and sat in the old office chair looking for a pen. Curtis stood opposite, watching him quietly, not uttering a word. He finally found the pen under the notebook they wrote everything down. The customer’s name and telephone number and a brief description of what needed to be repaired or checked out.

“Chris Sellers,” Grady uttered slowly, as he wrote the name out, then he looked up at Curtis, “phone number?” He wrote the number as Curtis called it out, then he noted the fuel pump and made a side note to check the lines, wondering if they could be clogged. “Is that it?”

“No, there’s one other thing.”

“What?”

“Do you like to fish?”

“Huh?”

“Fish? You know, bait a hook and toss it in the water,” Curtis replied, leaning on the counter, getting a little closer.

“I guess…I’ve not fished in a long time, though. I just don’t have time, or the money to spend on the tackle.”

“You’re off on the weekends?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t I come pick you up Saturday morning, early if that works for you, and we can fish down at one of our ponds.”

“You have more than one?”

“Yes. We have one behind our house, and there is one behind Chris’ house; the old Walker place out on Pine Hill Road.”

Grady shook his head, not knowing the road, much less any property on it.

“Doesn’t matter. What time would be good for me to pick you up?”

“What ever time you think? I usually get up kind of early anyway. It’s hard to sleep in when I’m used to getting up.”

“How about 6:30?”

“Okay.”

There was a honk of a horn and Curtis turned to look out front. “My ride is here. I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Okay,” Grady replied, looking out front where Chris was waiting in an old CJ-7.

Back in the shop, Jasper was wiping his hands, having finished the water pump installation.

“Help me get it all back together and we can pull it out back.”

“Okay.”

“What’s wrong with Chris Sellers’ truck?”

“Sounds like the fuel pump and that is what Curtis said to check.”

Jasper stopped, looking over at Grady. “Sounds like the fuel pump? Boy, you’ve been working here too long,” chuckling to himself.

Grady wondered at the sudden friendliness of Curtis. Imagined scenarios for why, some harmless like he was just bored and maybe all of his true friends were gone, then others were nefarious, intentions of getting him somewhere to humiliate or hurt him. But when he allowed himself the fantasy, the reasons became something else altogether. They became flirtatious, two guys alone with one looking to seduce the other. The touch of fingers, then of lips. Buttons undone, zippers tugged down, bare flesh pressed against bare flesh. He allowed these images to form until his cock hardened, and embarrassed by it, he found himself locked in his room or in the shower, stroking it until cum sprayed his chest or the wall of the shower.

The sky was beginning to glow in the east, the darkness pushed back. Grady sat on the back stoop, putting on his old boots. They were scuffed and faded, with soles worn down. They had their second pair of laces, the color not the same as the originals, and they stood out in stark relief against the boots. He was tying the last boot when he heard the approach of a vehicle. By the sound it was making, he knew it had a manual transmission and was in a low gear, with the revving of the engine. The CJ-7 circled around his house with Curtis behind the wheel. For a moment, all Grady could take in was the way Curtis was dressed. Tank top cut so loose and low, as to reveal nearly all of his upper body. Then there were the cargo shorts, which were faded and frayed, a rip in the side revealing the red boxers underneath. It was like Curtis was deliberately tempting him. Daring him to reveal himself, and he feared it was only to give reason to humiliate him, or worse, get a physical reaction of a fist or kick. But Curtis looked over, waving nonchalantly, and smiled. The fears dissipated, for they couldn’t be real, not with such an innocence of expression.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Curtis called out.

“Yes,” getting to his feet. Grady moved around the Jeep and climbed into the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt, for the openness of it unnerved him. Right at his side, he could look straight down at the ground.

Curtis drove slowly, sawing at the wheel to keep the old Jeep in its lane. Grady watched the passing landscape as they drove to the end of Lofton Road. Instead of turning toward town, Curtis turned left, heading further away.

Grady realized he had no idea where Curtis lived, only it was on a farm. They met a few pickups heading toward town, and Curtis waved at each one. After a couple of miles, with the grain elevator coming up on the left, Curtis slowed, then veered off on a narrow road, one not even marked with lines down its middle. Grady glanced at the small green sign: Gin Mill Road. After a tenth of a mile the road curved due west and ran straight for as long as the eye could see. On the right, among tall weeds and trees growing up in what was a parking lot, sat the old gin mill, with its roof collapsed in the middle and walls bowing inward, the whole place about to fall down.

“I wish someone would clean that up,” said Curtis, just loud enough for Grady to hear.

“Who owns the property?”

“The Abbott family owned the gin mill, but that was…Jesus, a hundred years ago or longer. I’m not sure who has the property, but I’m sure it is still in the family, although none of them live here.”

“What can they do with it?”

“Plant pine on it.”

Curtis seemed to lean back in his seat more, to relax his body in a manner Grady noticed. The biceps bulged with muscle as Curtis sawed at the steering wheel. Curtis’ black hair blew in the wind swirling around the cabin of the Jeep and Grady thought of models in commercials he had seen on television. With the wind in their hair at just the right velocity and angle to be seductive, luring. Eyes roaming down, Grady saw the light dusting of black hair on the calves and for a moment, he saw himself rubbing a hand over them, hovering just off the skin’s surface, letting those hairs tickle his palms, then doing it again, this time skin on skin, feeling the smooth surface. His heart raced as he gave thought to touching Curtis and he forced himself to look away, back to his right at the open field of soybeans, the plants waist high, lush and green, concealing the ground beneath them.

A ranch style house, red brick and gray shingled roof, came up on the right. There was a small barn behind it, and as they passed, Grady saw a drive ran from behind the house parallel with the road, going to the next house up ahead.

“That is my grandparent’s place. We live in the original farmhouse, although there isn’t much left of the original house,” said Curtis.

Grady saw the two-story farmhouse up ahead and as they neared, he realized it had been added onto and improved. He could see the different siding on the extensions either side of the central section. Behind it sat two barns, one of older wood construction, and one newer, a metal building. There were two smaller barns, one with a fence off its back and he saw chickens scratching at the ground within the pen.

Curtis passed the drive to the house, then the one that led straight to the old barn, continuing down the road until at the end of the field, with a stand of pine on the next parcel. He turned into a drive, just two-wheel ruts in the grass along the edge of the field. They eased along it, bouncing over the rough surface. They went to the back of the field, then down through woods that lay in the hollow of the land, crossing a spring, then coming up to the next plateau and another field, this one larger. The lane split, one going along the edge of the field toward its back and the other turned, staying along the edge of the woods in the hollow.

Curtis stayed on the latter, easing along the sloped and rough terrain. They climbed a rise in the land, and at the top Grady saw a pond that sat just above the hollow.

“They branched off of the spring to feed the pond, so it has never dried up,” said Curtis as he pulled down to it, stopping under the shade of an oak tree. “I brought our gear down before going to pick you up. I also brought drinks and snacks, so if you didn’t eat breakfast, grab something when you get hungry.”

“Okay, thanks,” Grady replied, as he climbed out.

Grady followed Curtis to a pin oak that was growing only a few feet from the water’s edge. Laying on the ground beneath it, he saw cane poles, a tackle box, two pails, a cooler and a dry bag, the top folded over and clipped.

“Cane poles?”

“Yep. You want to fish close to the edge, just past where the bottom is visible. We’ll sit on the bank and wait quietly for them to start biting.”

They sat on the bank for nearly an hour before the first nibbles at their bait. It became obvious, the nibbles were small fish, thieves as Curtis referred to them, with their ability to strip the hooks of the bait. Grady jerked at his line time and time again when it would take off, heading along the pond’s edge or straight out toward its center, only to bring up an empty hook.

“The water is too clear and the surface too calm for the big ones,” Curtis whispered.

Grady saw what Curtis was referring, how the gentle breeze rippled the pond’s surface, but not until ten to twelve feet out from the bank, the perimeter smooth as glass.

Eventually small fish gave way to larger ones, those that could get a hook in their mouths, and Curtis, then Grady, began to pull a few from the pond. The pace of the fish matched the way they felt as the day heated up. They were languid, slow moving as a sloth when the humidity became noticeable making them sweat, even as they sat in the shade. Looking across the pond and the field beyond, the horizon was shimmering from the sun’s heat.

“Fuck, its hot,” Curtis uttered as he sat up and tugged his shirt off. He laid it on the ground behind him and lay back on it, hands clasped behind his head.

Grady didn’t notice his line zipping around in the water, for his eyes were on Curtis. Curtis had his eyes closed, and it was like an invitation to look. The muscular chest and stomach, not flat like his own but rippled with muscle. The masculine nature of the exposed body, from its form to the thick dark hair in each armpit. It made Grady’s heart race as he looked upon the bare torso, then it raced faster as he scanned downward, at the way the shorts would gap at the waist with each inhale, how they bulged at the crotch, and how the rips revealed red boxers, or down on one thigh, bare skin.

And Curtis was so close, the left elbow only inches away.

Grady reached out to touch it, hand hovering the empty space between them, too scared to do so. He pulled back and lifted his empty hook from the water, telling himself to focus on fishing. He baited the hook and eased it back out, glancing over at Curtis again. He saw sweat bead up on the chest, sweat trickle from the hairline and the rate of breathing seem to slow, as if Curtis had drifted off to sleep.

Grady felt the heat too. It was stifling hot and sweat ran down his back and sides. He wiped his forearm across his brow often, preventing it from getting in his eyes. He propped his pole over his boot, the end tucked under one thigh, and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. He told himself he was just going to undo it. Let it hang open to feel what breeze there was against his chest, but when it fell open, the feel of skin cooling was like a tease, not enough to really feel it. He looked over at the sleeping form, then pulled the shirt off, laying it behind him as Curtis had done. He sat for a minute, letting the air move around him, feeling the relief from the slight cooling effect of sweat evaporating. Then he laid back, hands clasped behind his head and closed his eyes. It felt good, lying next to Curtis, so close he could sense his presence. Maybe it was the soft exhales, or merely some physical aspect of his being. He lay still, the slight breeze moving over his stomach and chest, until he drifted off, his sense of the present fading to another place, one mythical, imaginary: a place of his own making.

Grady woke with a start, at first not sure where he was at. He sat up, and saw the pond, then Curtis laying by his side. Curtis was as before, with eyes still closed. Grady leaned over, closer, looking at the face with its relaxed expression. The line of jaw with a faint shadow of beard, the nose with its angular form and the closed eyes with their long black lashes. He reached out, daringly, until his hand was near the cheek. He wanted so desperately to touch Curtis, to feel the smooth skin against his own. He hovered his hand over the cheek, then pretended to trace the thin lips, the jaw, moving his index finger around, toward the ear. Before he realized what was happening, before he could respond and snatch his hand back, Curtis had him by the wrist.

“What are you doing?” Curtis asked in a soft calm voice, holding Grady’s hand in place, not letting him pull away.

“Nothing, nothing, I wasn’t doing anything,” Grady pleaded, suddenly scared. He had been caught, not just looking, but reaching out, pretending to touch.

Curtis sat up, pushing Grady to his back. He moved over him, suddenly holding both wrists down. He leaned down until their faces were only inches apart, sweat dripping from his.

“You want to touch me?” Curtis asked.

“NO, no,” Grady replied.

“I want to touch you,” said Curtis, relaxing his grip on the wrists.

“What?”

“You heard me. I don’t know why, but ever since we ran into each other the other day, I’ve thought about it. I’ve had these thoughts with other boys, even as I tried to suppress them, but with you, I haven’t been able to do so. Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Why me?”

It sounded pitiful: the lack of self-confidence evident in Grady’s voice.

“Why not you? You’re a guy, attractive, and if I’m not mistaken, willing.”

“But I’m…”

“Don’t say it. Whatever you are about to say, don’t. You can’t let others define you.”

“But it’s true.”

“We’re only eighteen. We can’t know what we’re to become.”

Grady looked at the serious expression on Curtis’ face, how it hovered over him, waiting for him to say or do something.

“Are you really attracted to me?” Grady asked, smiling for the first time.

Curtis leaned down, pressing their lips together.

Grady fell back, letting him.

Curtis moved up next to Grady, bodies touching, lips pressing together, then Grady feeling Curtis kiss his neck, along the shoulder and back up to his ear, as a hand moved over his chest. The hand moved down on his stomach and he inhaled deeply, feeling his arousal grow. The hand slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans and pushed down, fingers working to slip beneath his boxers. The hand kept moving downward, through his pubic hair, fingers ticklish as they combed through it, then grazing his growing cock.

Curtis touched him, moving fingers along the elongating shaft then toyed with the head.

Grady gasped and pushed up against the hand.

The hand slipped from Grady’s jeans then pulled to work the button free. A rough tug and the zipper moved down until the jeans were loose around his waist. A push down, on the left side, the right, then the left again, and Grady felt the sun and the breeze on his exposed cock, and it flexed with his arousal.

Curtis moved on top of him, pushing with each foot to work his jeans and boxers to his ankles and with a bit of effort, he was free of them. He felt the soft worn cargo shorts against his cock, and the bare torso against his own. The contact of skin on skin was hot, slick, letting Curtis move easily over him. He parted his legs, letting Curtis lay between them and he pushed up against the muscular body, letting him feel his erection as lips moved over his neck until once again pressed against his own.

It was strange and erotic and sexually stimulating for Grady, to lay naked on the ground beneath Curtis. To be exposed, every part available to Curtis’ manipulations. He ran his hands down the wet, slick back until they hit the wet waistband and he ran fingers underneath it. Curtis undulated on top of him and the cargo shorts loosened around the waist, giving him greater access, and he pushed each hand down, beneath those red boxers until cupping firm ass cheeks. They flexed in his hands with Curtis’ movements, and he squeezed them making Curtis moan into his mouth

Curtis was suddenly on his knees, working frantically to get out of his shorts. He pushed everything down, letting his thick cock angle out free. It bobbed up and down, showing his arousal. Working along each leg, the shorts and boxers soon lay on the ground to their side.

“Fuck,” Curtis uttered, as he stroked his cock while looking down on Grady. “What do you want?”

Grady saw the glazed expression, one consumed with desire. He recognized it and felt his own inflamed desire.

“Put it in me…fuck me,” Grady whispered, some of his old fear trying to creep in, unsure he could do it. He watched Curtis knee walk between his legs. Curtis held his cock up and he watched it disappeared in Curtis’ mouth. He felt the soft heat of the mouth, then the lips that moved up and down it. He felt the tongue drag along the shaft then toy with the head, making him gasp and shudder. Curtis sucked until he was so close, he didn’t know if he could hold back. Then Curtis was moving up over him and his legs were being lifted. Each leg hooked in the elbow of an arm, Curtis folded him over, and he lay back, eyes closed, waiting. There was the touch, then rub up and down of wet cock. A push, gentle at first, but insistent, and Grady relaxed to it, knowing it was what he wanted. It was what he always wanted.

Curtis penetrated Grady, slowly, pushing inward, then pulling back. Over and over, Curtis worked cock inside Grady, going deeper and deeper until his abdomen pressed against the upturned ass. Grady arched his back, and undulated against Curtis, suddenly wild and untamed. He moved his ass against Curtis while grabbing at the ground. He moaned gutturally, a primitive cry, one that pushed Curtis to fuck.

Curtis fucked with a slow rhythm, and Grady savored the feel of it. The weight of Curtis’ body on top of him, with its movement, this undulation against his own. Then there was the penetration, the fullness of it, how it locked them body and soul. The connection first and foremost, physical, but so much more than that. Finally, the touch of hands and lips, the soft pleading whispers and moans, strained in their effort to maintain control. Grady felt every aspect of their copulation. Every touch. Every breathless whisper.

They grew labored in their fuck, the attempt to hold back the most grueling aspect. Curtis pushed into Grady’s depths, all the way, over and over, until his cock ached for release. He shuddered at the feel of its head boring into Grady’s depths, and unable to hold back, he increased his pace. Faster and faster, his hips moved, driving inward hard, then pulling up until nearly slipping free. Over and over, until the sound of bodies smacking together echoed over the pond and across the field.

Grady had opened himself to Curtis, took every thrust, savored the feel of every touch…every utterance. He began to move with him, undulating his body to increase the feel of it. With arms wrapped around Curtis, he clung desperately to the him.

“Fuck…fuck me, fuck me…harder,” Grady uttered.

Curtis rose, held Grady down by the wrist and drove into his depths harder, faster, until sweat rained down on his undulating body. The rhythm of their fuck became lost, Curtis shoved in all the way, jamming his hips against Grady’s ass. He raised up and cried out, then shuddered with release.

Curtis lay on Grady a long time, his breathing labored. When he finally slipped out and rolled to Grady’s side, he moved down by his hips and legs, leaning over the hard, leaking cock. Grady lay still, eyes closed, as he felt a tongue drag across his abdomen, down to the base of his cock, then along its length. The tongue swirled around the head and he shivered with the manipulation. Then he felt his cock engulfed, sinking into the warm, soft mouth. Lips moved down his cock, then up until tongue tortured the head. He shuddered, grabbing at the grass with both hands. Then the lips went down again.

Grady sat up and looked at the sleeping form next to him, still naked, the sunlight giving his skin a warm glow. Curtis lay close, with a leg lying over his own.  Despite the sex, the suggestive nature of things said, the perception of it all, the bawdy notions about sex between two people, especially two of the same sex, Curtis looked innocent.

Grady watched him until finally stirring awake.

Dressed, Curtis drove Grady back to his home, where they sat at the kitchen island having a late lunch. Grady felt anxious with Curtis’ mother hovering around in the kitchen, even though her conversation with them was casual, nothing about it that was suspicious.  

“Let’s go,” said Curtis, getting Grady to follow him outside. They climbed into the old Jeep and were soon on the road.

“Where are we going?” Grady asked.

“I don’t know. Just riding around,” Curtis replied, smiling at Grady.

They drove around the rural communities until eventually going into town. They drove around the drive-in, cut through downtown, and out to the park, waving at classmates, but not stopping to hang out.

“Grady?”

“Yes?”

“Will you go out with me tonight. You know…dinner and a movie or something?”

“You mean like a date?”

“Yes?” Curtis replied, looking over with a worried expression. Grady grinned, then smiled, nodding his head.

“I’d like that,” said Grady.

“I’ll drop you at your home so you can clean up and rest up some. I’ll pick you up at six?”

“Six would be good. Where will we go?”

“Let’s drive down to Mobile.”

“Okay.”

Curtis drove up right before six, pulling around to the back of the small house. He was in his Grand Cherokee, one handed down from his mother when she got a new one. Despite its age, the vehicle still looked new, only the leather seats showing wear. Grady climbed in and they headed south, into the setting sun and toward Mobile. They arrived just as the sun dropped below the horizon. Curtis drove into downtown along old streets lined with live oak, pine, red oak, and magnolias. Everything about the city spoke to a bygone era making a comeback. Businesses lined the old downtown streets in storefronts that had been abandoned or struggling for decades. On Saturday night, the city seemed alive, the sidewalks busy, as well as the restaurants and bars.

Curtis parked on the west side of downtown and they strolled back into downtown, walking along the busy streets.

“I got reservations at this restaurant one street over,” said Curtis, after they had passed a few restaurants and he saw Grady look in hungrily.

“Oh…okay.”

“Let’s turn here,” said Curtis, as he took Grady by the hand and led him down a side street.

Grady looked around nervously, but let Curtis led him down the sidewalk. Half-way down, the sidewalk was dark, a streetlamp out, and within the concealment, Curtis spun around to face Grady and gave him a quick kiss.

“Come on, we’ve got about fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant,” said Curtis when he pulled back, and even in the dark, they knew they were smiling at each other.

They sat at the front window at a small two-top table, with linen tablecloth and one candle in its middle. They talked quietly amongst themselves, suppressing smiles and holding back when what they wanted more than anything was to cry out. There were stares from other diners, some with smiles, and some with frowns. They felt the eyes upon them and tried to focus on each other or the passing pedestrians out for a stroll.

Finished with dinner, they strolled the sidewalks, blending in with the other people, a part of the urban fabric of the old port city with its warm, humid night and a changing face. The old southern traditions giving way to those less regional, instead more national in nature, influenced by the sharing of new cultural norms, from the way people dressed to the way they viewed their surroundings.

“I guess we should head back,” said Curtis when they turned and headed back the way they came.

“Yes…I guess so,” replied Grady.

They walked for blocks, nearing where they had parked, when Grady’s cellphone rang.

“Hey, Claire, what’s up?” asked Grady. He listened then looked at Curtis, grinning. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” then ending the call.

“Tomorrow?” asked Curtis

“David is taking her to Montgomery to hear some band and they’re staying the night.”

Curtis smiled, then pulled out his cellphone.

“What are you doing?” asked Grady.

“Getting us a room somewhere close by. If they’re not home, why do you need to be.”

“But…what about your folks? Want they be worried if you don’t come home?”

Curtis smiled at Grady, then looked down. “I told them I was crashing at your place tonight.”

Curtis slipped the plastic card in the slot and the latch released. Door pushed open, he motioned for Grady to enter, following him inside. They had a bag of toiletries from the front desk, admitting their overnight stay was unplanned. Grady went to the window, drawing the curtains back revealing a view of the street below. It was lit up, pedestrians still out making the city feel alive. As he watched the life of the street, he sensed Curtis coming up behind him, then saw Curtis’ reflection in the window. Arms came around his waist and he felt a soft kiss at the back of his neck.

Grady felt the hands move over him, tugging at his clothes, touching exposed flesh, until he closed his eyes and let it happen. His shirt fell from his shoulders, jeans and boxers slid down his legs and he felt a hand toy with his growing erection. Then he felt a kiss to his hip then a pull on his leg and he knew to lift that foot. The jeans and boxers were slipped free of it, then he raised the other foot.

 He was naked, feeling the exposure. The conditioned air blowing over his skin. The touch of hands, up each leg, over his ass then one on his cock, where fingers wrapped around it. He shuddered at the manipulation, the toying with his cock, the other hand moving up his stomach and chest, and the feel of lips. On his neck. Just below his ear. Along the jaw. Against his own lips. He felt Curtis move against his body still fully clothed and he felt his nakedness even more.

“I want you so bad,” Curtis whispered.

It brought Grady out of his trance, this state of submission and he stepped back, opening his eyes. He saw Curtis looking at him. Eyes shining in the dim light of the room. Each cheek dimpled with his smile. Grady wanted him too. He reached out and began to undo buttons. He didn’t stop until the shirt lay on the floor and he was on his knees slipping jeans and boxers from each foot. He raised up on his knees and leaned into Curtis, burying his face into the pubic hair over the growing erection. He inhaled Curtis’ scent, then moved to the cock, tonguing it, then at the head, he let it slip between his lips. Pushing forward, he took as much of it as he could, letting it fill his mouth.

Grady manipulated Curtis’ cock, tongued it, toyed with it, then took it deep into his mouth. When it was fully erect, flexing on his tongue he pulled off and stood.

“Curtis,” Grady whispered as he led him to the bed, pulling the cover back. He lay back, guiding Curtis to come down on top. He spread his legs, opening up to him. Curtis was too aroused to hold back, and Grady felt him penetrate his tightness and slowly sink into his depths.

The bed began to squeak as Curtis moved with authority, his muscular body working rhythmically between Grady’s raised legs. Ass cheeks flexed as cock piston into Grady’s depths. They fucked with greater and greater enthusiasm, hips moving faster until the bed rocked beneath them. Breathing became labored, moans louder, as bodies heated up, skin glistening wetly. Curtis slipped arms around Grady and rolled him on top.

“Ride me,” Curtis uttered as he pushed upward.

Grady moved on Curtis, up then down, his pace increasing until it was a steady fuck. Curtis grunted with every drop down of Grady onto his abdomen. He watched Grady, the naked body moving on his cock. The Lean nature of it, the skin flush, wet, with muscle flexed tight underneath. He ran hands up the thighs feeling their strength as Grady moved up and down.

Grady took his own cock in hand and stroked in rhythm of his movement. A steady pace that increased his aroused state. He sensed everything. The feel of Curtis beneath him, the feel of hands on his thighs, the smell of their sweating bodies, the scent of their sex. It pushed his arousal until he didn’t know how much more he could take.

Cum rained down on Curtis as Grady came. He shuddered and jerked with each ejaculation, until cum dribbled from his cock and he was spent, physically and sexually. But he kept moving, riding up and down on Curtis.

The scent of cum filled Curtis’ nostrils and he threw his head back and shoved upward. The first ejaculation staggered him. He shuddered with the release, then he held Grady’s thighs as he shoved upward, over and over with every ejaculation until he too was spent.

Light moved across the wall and floor until it was on the bed. The two naked bodies intertwined together stirred with it, one then the other awakening. Grady climbed out of bed first, his muscles still sore and feeling a lack of sleep. They had had sex until exhausted, finally drifting off to sleep far too late. He went into the bathroom, pissed, then climbed into the shower. The warm water felt good, and he stood under the spray, head held down, letting it cascade down his body. He heard Curtis piss, then the shower curtain pulled back.

“Make room,” Curtis whispered, coming up behind him.

They bathed each other, kissed lazily under the spray, then finally got out. Dressed, they headed down and out, looking for the nearest restaurant that served breakfast, and more importantly, strong coffee.

“We should head on back when we finish,” said Grady as the waitress left the table with their order.

“Okay. Wish we could stay another day.”

“Me too, but…”

“I get it. No reason to stir up sis’ suspicions, not yet?”

Grady smiled, nodding his head.

Grady got home late, riding up on his bicycle about six-thirty. Claire was to take him that day but early that morning she got called in to work for an afternoon shift, so he had ridden his bike. Curtis had taken him the day before, but it had been too early that morning for him to call for a ride. Despite feeling disappointed about having to ride his bike, he found it refreshing, the early morning cooler than it had been, and it let him clear his head. He had considered how to talk to Claire and what to expect in her reaction. Then there was the future he daydreamed about. The possibilities with Curtis, that seemed too good to be true.

David came out on the porch, wiping his hands.

“Hey, you’re late?” said David.

“I had to work over a bit helping to finish a repair. Claire still getting off at eight?”

“Yes. I’ve started dinner.”

“Really?” Grady replied, looking at David with a grin.

“Really,” David replied, “just wait until you have someone important to you and see what you’re willing to do.”

Grady grinned, then looked away, going inside with David following him.

“Or is there someone already?” David asked, going back into the kitchen.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Claire and I think there’s something going on with you and that Sellers boy. Curtis?”

“What?” Grady uttered, his heart racing, suddenly feeling scared.

David glanced up, then turned his attention to the chicken he was cutting up. “Relax Grady. It’s okay. Your sister has been wanting to talk to you for some time, but she just doesn’t know how to ask. And after this past weekend, well…it’s kind of obvious. Don’t you think?” David asked, looking up with a smile.

“You’re not…” Grady stammered.

“It’s cool. I wouldn’t advertise it around here, but…Claire really loves you; you know? After what the two of you have been through, she just wants you to be happy.”

“You don’t think it is wrong or something?”

“Oh hell no. Now go get cleaned up and come tell me about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Unless you want to wait for Claire to get here and tell us at the same time?”

“NO…I mean…I think it’ll be easier to tell you first.”

“That is what she thought; so, go. You smell like diesel fuel.”

Grady felt a calmness he believed impossible. It was as if he could breathe. Even the bike ride to and from work was no longer a chore, something to dread. Now it was a way to expel excess energy, feel his legs work the pedals until fatigued, when he would be coasting up to his home. It’d been two weeks since the weekend in Mobile, then the coming out to David and his sister two days later. It had been so anticlimactic, he wondered why he had waited so long to do so.

There was nothing that could spoil his mood.

He coasted down the drive and came into the small clearing in front of the house. Claire and David were sitting on the edge of the porch, Claire’s legs rocking back and forth. He pulled up to them, about to say something when he noticed Claire’s expression, then David’s. It was serious, but not sad or tragic.

“Hey, Grady, we need to talk about something,” said Claire.

“Okay, what is it?” Grady replied, laying his bike down and sitting next to Claire.

“David has been accepted at this technical college.”

“That’s great,” Grady replied, but then he saw David and Claire exchange a concerned look. “But?”

“It’s up in Charlotte, North Carolina. It’s one focused on health care trades and I can get an Associate degree,” said David.

“Charlotte,” Grady repeated, thinking about how far away North Carolina was from south Alabama. He looked at Claire and realized she meant to go with David. “You’re going too.”

“Yes.”

“When?” Grady asked, feeling breathless.

“The middle of September.”

“That’s only…”

“I know.”

“I…” Grady stammered, and he jumped off the porch. Hands on top of his head, he walked in circles in the yard. “What am I going to do?”

“You could come with us?” David replied.

Grady thought of Curtis, how everything had been so perfect the last couple of weeks, and now he thought it had been too perfect, and this was his punishment. “No,” he mumbled, ‘no, no, no.”

“You can stay here. You’re making enough to cover the rent and…”

“And what? Hope it works out with Curtis? Or I find a way to live here alone.”

“Grady,” Claire uttered in a low voice, “you knew sooner or later we would create our own life and no longer rely on each other.”

Grady looked up into the darkening sky. “I know.”

“We should go inside. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Grady, why don’t you go get cleaned up,” said David.

Grady looked at David and nodded his head, then walked up to the steps, across the porch and went inside without another word.

Grady felt foolish, for he was supposedly a man now, but thought he was acting a bit like a child. He didn’t want Claire to leave and knew it was selfish. She deserved to find whatever happiness that came her way. She had done a lot for him and it was time for her to pursue her own life.

But the feeling of being abandoned just would not go away.

After dinner he went to his room, laying on the bed trying to get his mind wrapped around her leaving in a few weeks. How would he cope? He reached over to the small table he used for a nightstand and looked at his cellphone. 9:54 P.M. Pulling up Curtis, his finger hovered over ‘send’, but he didn’t know what to say.

Are you serious about me?

Do you see us having a future?

You’re leaving too, right?

It was the last that knotted his stomach and caused him to roll over, facing the wall. He would lay there until the fatigue of his body and mind finally allowed him to drift off to sleep.

Grady dragged himself into the bathroom the next morning, standing under the shower longer than he should have, making him rush to get ready. He shoved down a couple of cookies and grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator on his way out the door. The morning felt cool after the long hot days of summer, but he knew within a mile or so, he’d feel different.

At the shop, he went to Mr. Evans’ F-250 that he had been helping Jasper go over the day before. They knew the radiator had a leak, but the big issue was the failed turbo. A replacement was ordered with the parts store to have it by that afternoon. In the meantime, he would replace the radiator with the new one already delivered to the shop, then remove the old turbo unit, prepping the truck for the new one. Focused on the chore at hand, it let him not dwell on Claire’s leaving. By mid-morning, the new radiator was in the truck, and the old turbo laying on the bench where he was fiddling with it. He was curious about its failure, and the resulting internal damage.

“Looks serious,” said Curtis, coming up behind Grady.

Grady spun around and smiled as he watched Curtis cut through the shop.

“Why are you here?”

“I just stopped by to see what you’re up to.”

“Really?” Grady asked, knowing there was something else.

“I went to Hardee’s for breakfast and…” Curtis hesitated, cast a downward look to the floor, then back to Grady. “I ran into Claire and David.”

“Oh,” Grady replied, turning back to the bench. He picked up the turbo and tossed it across the room into a trash barrel they put old parts. It rang out as it fell on top of other metal parts and banged the side of the barrel.

“Grady?”

“What? What do you want me to say, Curtis? My sister is leaving, and I’ll remain here. I make enough to pay the bills, the rent and maybe I’ll find an old car, and…”

“Grady…”

“Don’t Curtis; not now. Please.”

“Okay. But we should talk. I’ll come over when you get home.”

“Okay…and Curtis.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be short with you.”

“It’s okay. It had to be a bit of a shock. But it’ll be okay.”

“You promise?”

Curtis smiled, nodding his head. “I promise.”

The next few weeks passed quickly, Grady going to work during the week, only to come home to help Claire go through the house packing up what she wanted to take. She didn’t take much. Her favorite coffee mug, a vase that had held flowers from their parent’s funeral, a figurine her mother had bought for her when she was ten, a cheap trinket from the dime store in town, and a tie that belonged to their father that she wore from time to time. Most of the boxes held her clothes and personal effects. It should have taken no more than one evening to pack, but Grady and Claire spent more time reminiscing than packing. The box of their parent’s personal effects from under her bed, and their clothes Claire had held on to, which they boxed up with her own. The most difficult thing was the few photograph albums with photos taken by their parents and family. Images of two people growing up in the region, going out on dates or the prom, getting married and having children, Claire, then Grady. They flipped through the pages, at times crying, other times giggling like the kids in the photos.

They split the photos while lamenting the lack of photographs since their parent’s deaths. It was David who suggested it, half joking, but for a couple of days, they took photographs of each other around the house and in the yard. David had them processed, a set for each. A moment captured in time of the two of them still together, knowing the future would not give them a lot of opportunities to get together.

The week Claire and David were to leave, Grady arrived at work that Monday morning, surprised to see everyone else was already there. He had been arriving early, always worried how long his bike ride would take and eventually finding he liked the quiet of the shop early in the morning when he was first to arrive. The routine of making coffee, of turning on the lights and checking the schedule for what was his responsibility. He came in and the guys acted normal, each already under hoods or standing under a hoisted vehicle, dirty from hands to elbows. But he sensed something was up. Even Travis was acting odd, visible through the window between the shop and office, just sitting at the counter not looking his way.

In the last bay sat Hank Nichols’ Dodge truck, the hood up waiting on an alternator and spark plugs. Grady went to the rolling table position at the front of it, to double check he had the parts he needed, then with a wrench in hand, he went to work. Bent over the front, he didn’t hear Travis walk up, but the clink of metal against metal made him look around, seeing a set of keys lying on the metal bracket that held the radiator.

“What’s this?”

“Grady, I’ve looked at your work and talked with the guys and know I need to bump your pay up. You were so green when you started, but you’re doing the work now. And you need a vehicle.”

“I know, and I was going to…”

“Grady, I know it has been tough and you got into this routine, riding that damn bike or relying on your sister and…I should have pushed you to do something sooner. The guys and I found this old truck and over the weekend got it into decent shape and it wasn’t much, so consider it your bonus for the year.”

“Seriously?”

“Come on, it’s out back,” said Travis as he turned and walked toward the back of the shop.

Grady saw the other guys were already standing outside the open garage door and he followed Travis outside. Along the fence parked between the 68 Impala Jasper was going to rebuild and the 78 CJ5 they had been raiding for parts over the years, sat a silver Toyota Tacoma.

“It’s a 08 model, and we had to replace the bed and the seat, but the engine seems good. We’ve gone through it and…” said Travis, stopping when Grady strolled toward the truck.

Grady moved up to the front of it, putting a hand on the hood, then looking back.

“This is mine?”

“Shit, Grady, it ain’t that much. It was my uncle’s truck and he let the bed rust damn near off of it and…go on see how it runs,” said Chuck.

Grady slipped between the CJ5 and the Tacoma and saw the freshly painted bed, now a matching silver. He climbed in and started the motor and it settled into a smooth idle.

“During lunch get one of the guys to take you to the DMV and get the title and tags squared away,” said Travis.

Grady shut it off and climbed out. He walked slowly up to Travis and the guys, trying to figure out what to say. He stared at the ground then up at the guys.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say thank you,” Buddy replied, smiling at him.

“Thanks guys.”

“Now no more riding to work on that damn bike,” said Jasper, turning to head back into the garage. “Let’s get to work.”

“Are you home?” asked Grady.

“Yes? Why?” replied Curtis over the cellphone.

“Can I come by for a minute?”

“Sure.”

Grady drove them out to Saw Mill Creek, taking the rutted, washed out lane, first through a stand of pine, then though a mix of hardwood and evergreen that lay in the low area along the creek. Parked close the creek, the swirling waters visible through the trees, they sat quiet for a long time.

“Claire packed?”

“Yes, I think so. She’s not taking much.”

“I guess they’ll use David’s furniture.”

“Yep,” Grady replied, then he leaned over the console. With a hand on the back of Curtis’ neck, he turned him around and kissed him. “Let’s get out.”

Grady met Curtis at the back of the truck, where he lowered the tailgate. Then he began to remove his clothes. At first, Curtis watched, the shirt tossed into the bed, then shoes and socks, but when Grady began to undo his jeans, he began to remove his own clothes. They stripped naked and moved together. With the press of flesh, the caress of hands and the soft kisses, they grew aroused, cocks thickening and growing long. Curtis turned Grady and eased him back until the tailgate bumped the back of his legs. Grady eased onto the tailgate and lay back.

“Curtis,” Grady whispered, raising his legs for him.

Hands held the ankles, spreading them apart as Curtis moved up close. Grady felt cock rake along his ass, and when a hand let go of his left ankle, the cock moved against him with more insistence. It rubbed up and down his ass, then pressed against his tight opening.

“Do it…please,” Grady uttered as he lay back, eyes closed focused on the sensation of touch. Every one of them. It aroused him and he felt his cock flex as Curtis squeezed into his hole, penetrating him.

Curtis pushed inward slowly, gently, sinking in all the way. Grady shivered with the penetration, the fullness of it. He held tightly to the edge of the tailgate as Curtis began to fuck. Soon they were moving rhythmically, one body undulating, pushing toward the other, trying to get cock deeper, while the other moved at the hips, ass cheeks flexing with every thrust. Their pace increased until the sound of flesh against flesh echoed in the woods and over the waters. Skin became flush, then wet with sweat, their exertions heating them until they were panting for breath.

Grady opened his eyes and watched Curtis fuck him. The glazed look, the skin glistening, stretched tight over muscle pumped up and the hands that held each ankle. He watched the movement of a body pushing into his depths, and he felt it, every thrust. The tug and push at his opening, the way it stretched him open until cock piston through it easily. He took his own cock, slick in his hand, and began to stroke it. It increased his arousal, caused him to throw his head back and once again, close his eyes. He shivered with the manipulation as he stroked his cock.

“Fuck me. Harder. Harder,” Grady uttered, breathlessly.

“Oh…Grady…” Curtis stammered, as he slowed, easing his cock outward until it hovered between them. Then he penetrated Grady again and slow fucked until he couldn’t take it.

Grady stiffened, his back arced up, only his shoulders and ass resting on the bed of the truck, as he took Curtis while stroking his own cock. He shuddered and cried out, as cum spattered his face and chest, then dribbled from his cock, slicking his hand and pooling on his stomach.

“Fuck; Grady…take me,” Curtis exclaimed as he shoved inward all the way and came.

They stood on the bank of the creek watching the water, glancing at each from time to time. Naked, cocks finally flaccid, they relished their masculinity, the sexual aspect of their bodies. They held hands and waded in the shallow waters over a sand bar, the water only at their ankles but still cold enough to send shivers up their spines. Curtis saw the change, Grady going from happy to serious. His features tightened, eyebrows angling down.

“What are you thinking?” Curtis asked as they stopped in a spot where the sun was able to penetrate the tree canopy, warming their skin.

“I don’t know. I feel like I might be able to get my life on track, but things seem to always crop up to take it away from me, and now…”

“You’re worried something bad will happen after Claire leaves?”

Grady shrugged his shoulders and turned away, taking a few steps toward the bank.

“I’m not leaving you,” said Curtis.

Grady stopped, unable to turn around, smiling even as a tear fell down his cheek. He had not realized how much he needed to hear Curtis say it, until it had been spoken aloud. He heard Curtis wade through the water, coming closer. Arms circled his waist and Curtis pressed against his back. A kiss to the back of the neck, then around to the side of it, and along the right shoulder. The hands moved on his chest, stomach, and groin. One hand toyed with his cock until it responded, growing erect quickly in its grasp. Pressed against his ass was Curtis’ hard cock and he wanted it again.

Grady eased up the bank, pulling Curtis to follow, their bodies held together. He moved to a tree and bent toward it, bracing his hands on the rough bark.

“Do me again,” Grady uttered as he held his head down and watched one hand move from his stomach. He knew it was aiming Curtis’ cock at his hole, for he felt it, the wet head pressed against it. It penetrated him easily, sinking into his depths, then moving in a slow fuck.

Grady held the tree as a hand took him, stroking his cock slowly as Curtis’ cock moved inside him. Curtis kept a slow pace, one agonizingly slow, Grady able to feel every inch move through his opening, and have a full sense of the penetration, feeling every inch buried inside of his hole. A kiss between the shoulder blades, then a light nip of the skin. And the constant penetrating push inward.

Curtis fucked until his body ached and muscles burned with his exertions. Unable to hold back any longer, his pace increased, both in the swing of his hips and of his hand stroking Grady. Grady shuddered and he felt the flex of cock in his hand as Grady came, spraying cum onto the tree and ground. He felt the spasm of Grady’s hole while shuddering from release, and he thrust inward, hips smacking against ass, over and over and over, until he too came, filling Grady with his cum.

On Thursday morning, the sun just above the horizon, Grady stood in the yard and watched Claire and David drive away. He waved and smiled, even as he slowed his breathing trying to control his emotions. He stood in the yard and watched the two vehicles go down the drive and disappear and he continued to stand there letting the realization Claire was really gone sink in. Then he climbed into his truck and went to work.

Curtis came over each evening and they cooked together, Thursday night a breakfast late that night after spending most of the evening in bed having desperate sex. Friday, they grilled hamburgers and drank until tipsy and they fucked on the old picnic table in the backyard, then inside under the spray of the shower, and finally in Grady’s bed, fucking to the point of exhaustion.

Saturday found the two of them at Curtis’ place, down at the fishpond sitting on the bank.

“Grady?”

“Yes?”

“Would you move if I asked you?”

Grady was laying on the ground with his head in Curtis’ lap and he looked up seeing the seriousness of the question. He remembered past conversations and this desire Curtis had to live somewhere more accepting. Someplace they didn’t have to watch what they said or did. He had considered such a place, what it could be like, living openly with Curtis, but it always seemed a fairy tale, something that happened to other people. But the idea was becoming tangible, something real, and he saw the possibilities of it when looking up at Curtis.

“Yes. I’d go with you wherever you wanted to go.”

“Really?”

“There’s nothing keeping me here; you know that.”

“I’ve been thinking…you know I want to leave this place, and this sneaking around to be together and…what about Atlanta, if you want to stay in the south, or maybe…” Curtis fell silent.

“Or? Come on Curtis, tell me. Where do you want to go?”

“I was thinking Portand.”

“Portland? Oregon?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, that’s all the way…” Grady stammered, while giving consideration for such a move, something he never allowed himself to do in the past.

“You have a problem with it?”

“What? No! It’s just…I’ve never considered such a big move. Didn’t think it possible.”

“There is a large gay population and the climate isn’t bad and…”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’d move there with you. Do you think I can find a job?”

“One of us should be able to find something quickly just to get us set up.”

“When are you thinking of doing this big move?”

“I’d do it as fast as possible, but I’m thinking at least by the beginning of next year.”

“What would determine it?”

“I’m going to come out to my folks. If they reject me, we’re moving as soon as possible.”

“And if they don’t, then you’ll stay through the holidays.”

Curtis smiled, nodding his head.

Christmas decorations still covered a lot of the houses, each night turned on again, even though it had been three weeks since Christmas. Grady pulled into the backyard at Curtis’ home, seeing his Grand Cherokee loaded up, ready to go. The back of his truck was packed, boxes wrapped up in garbage bags to protect them from the weather and the area behind the front seats packed. They planned to cover 500 to 600 miles a day, knowing that would make their trip take five days.

Grady smiled as he stepped out, seeing Curtis hug his mother, then father. Chris came up and hugged him too, then playfully pushed him away. Grady knew it had been tough on them when Curtis came out, all the old prejudices being challenged by their own son and brother, but after a week they came around. He knew they still loved Curtis for how they seemed more upset with him moving away, but they supported the move too, eventually acknowledging how it would be for them if they stayed.

“You ready?” asked Curtis after they said their goodbyes.

“Yes,” Grady replied.

They eased out to the highway and headed for the interstate, Grady behind Curtis, following him to this new life. They had worried about finding jobs, but just before Christmas, with Travis’ help, Grady had a job with a shop on the outskirts of the city waiting for him. And Curtis found a job with a landscape firm, one that did mostly residential projects. They just had to get there and find a place to live. It had seemed impossible for such a long time, this journey, this way out of a hard life that had been so unfair. But as the familiar scenery gave way to the unfamiliar, to terrain that would change dramatically over the course of the days to come, it no longer seemed a fantasy or a dream. It was real, and Grady smiled as he followed Curtis toward it.