Bird Came Down

When he was sixteen, the Calverton Panthers won the last game of the season 23 to 7. It ended with Scott Flowers, Number 48 in his maroon uniform zigzagging through the desperate hands and leaping bodies of Saint Stephen’s, their old arch nemesis, and when he made the touchdown he slammed the ball so hard into the ground it was a wonder it didn’t explode. His teammates pounced on him the way he had feared Saint Stephen’s would. They hoisted him up on his shoulders, and it wasn’t that he thought he was special, he wasn’t. But Scott’s life had always been life this. He had always been sort of tall, bronze haired and good looking, good natured. He and the rest of the team took the Gatorade and drenched their coach. Their parents came out of the stands. The band played louder and louder. It was a good day.

They had taken pictures before, Scott looking fierce with war paint under his eyes, but now there were new pictures, of them dirty, hoisting up each other, pictures of Tolliver Andrews who had broken his leg at the Homecoming game.

That afternoon led to that night and the party in the basement of Brady Dischler’s house. The Dischlers let beer into the house and more of it was spilled on Scott’s head than consumed.

They slammed their heads together and shouted above Korn.

And then, while they were passed out on the floor laughing, Matt Robb with the long blond hair that he never cut, who liked to paint his fingernails to razz everyone, fell down next to him laughing.

“Enough of this,” Brady said. “This shit’s giving me a headache.”

The music switched to Christina Aguilera and, along with everyone else, from the floor, Scott shouted “Boooo.” Even though Brady said, “’Com’ on Over’s’ a pretty straight up song.”

“Not for tonight.”

“I want to hear something sad,” Ryan declared.

“Something sad, something sad, something sad,” the squat Jack Parrish said, leaning forward and going through CDs.

“Oh, she’s real sad.”

“What?” Scott heard someone else say over the music. But he only blinked.

And then he heard Sheryl Crow singing.

“Oh, yeah, this bitch is sad as fuck.”

“Let her play!” Jack said.

“I’m going to!” Whoever had said she was sad said.

“She’s nice,” Matt said, putting his hands in his thick hair. “This is nice. I think guys shouldn’t be afraid to be sensitive.”

“Yeah,” Scott echoed.

The room was darkened and his hood was hiding most of his face.

“That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Flowers. You can crush the fuck out of someone on the field, but you’re a sweet guy.”

“You too, Matt. I’ve always liked you.”

“Yeah,” Matt touched Scott’s hand.

Scott pressed his shoulder against Matt’s and it was the perfect end to the perfect day as Sheryl Crow sang:

I've been long, a long way from here

Put on a poncho, played for mosquitos,

And drank til I was thirsty again

We went searching through thrift store jungles

Found Geronimo's rifle, Marilyn's shampoo

And Benny Goodman's corset and pen

Well, o.k. I made this up

I promised you I'd never give up

And then suddenly, in the quiet darkness, among his comrades, Scott turned and kissed Matt. It was so tender, and it was just what he’d wanted to do and never known until that moment, it felt so right, but suddenly Matt pushed himself away and, releasing Scott’s hand, was blinking at him in horror.

If it makes you happy

It can't be that bad

If it makes you happy

Then why the hell are you so sad?

“No man,” Matt said. “Not like that. I mean… I’m not like that.”

Scott laughed and shrugged.

“I’m just fucking around,” he said.

“Right,” Matt nodded, putting on a smile too.

“If you can play around I can too, right?”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “Just playing.”

“I’m gonna get up,” Scott said, pushing himself up, “and get a beer.”

“Get me one too, man.”

“Yeah,” Scott said. “Right.”

He was so red and so embarrassed, and only the beer could cool him down or make him laugh after that. He kept drinking all night. He drank Brady Dischler under the table. It was the first time he’d ever blacked out, and when he woke up on Saturday morning, his head hurt so bad it was like someone had but a railroad spike to it and driven it in with a mallet. Everyone laughed at him and the laughter made it hurt even more, but while he drank coffee, squinting, and took aspirin, this pain was a hell of a lot better than the dull ache and the hot embarrassment that filled him when Matt had pushed him away and told him, “No.”

“I’m coming to Fort Atkins to meet with Matty on some business, and I want to see the kids.”

“I don’t know if that’s going to be possible.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, doodling on the legal pad in front of him. “Well, I’ll be in around one, and I’ll be to the house at three.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I could stay at the house.”

“That might not be such a good idea.”

“Why? Is the guy you’re fucking staying with you?”

“Scott, don’t be crass.”

Scott looked around the living room he’d grown up in. Wide windows looked out onto Berker Street, and from the corner of his eye he saw his brother coming out of the kitchen.

“That’s not crass,” Scott disagreed. “I can be crass. You wanna hear me be crass?”

“Not really.”

“I wouldn’t sleep in that fucking house next to your rotting cunt if the great flood was going on outside and we were all about to die and you were Noah and that house was the ark.”

“Scott!”

“But I will be there for the kids. At three, On Saturday, because I’ve got a great lawyer who just happens to be my best friend who just happens to have told me, on my wedding day, that I should have never married a slut like you.”

“Matt Robb is an ass—”

Scott hung up on her. He could feel his brother, in the usual cargo shorts and tee shirt with backward cap, standing behind him.

“Can I help you?” Scott wadded up the paper.

“Fuck, you’re an asshole today!”

Scott was angry for only a second, and then he turned around and said, “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a shit.”

“I just wanted to know if you needed anything?”

“Nope,” Scott said. “A walk. A bike ride. A jog with Pebbles as soon as I find her leash, then back to this presentation. I’m just…”

Joey came to his brother and put his hand on Scott’s sunken shoulder.

“You got rid of her,” he said, “and that’s not a bad thing. She was always bad news.”

Scott nodded.

“Joe?”

“Unhuh?”

“Are you going to college?”

“I told Mom and Dad I’d try it this fall.”

“Don’t try it. Do it. You don’t want to be a maintenance man your whole life.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Joey said. “The money’s good.”

“Look,” Scott said. “Mom doesn’t want you to be a maintenance man your whole life.”

“Dad’s a plumber.”

“And he wants to have a son who’s a lawyer. I was a disappointment.”

“You have a great job.”

“I’m a secretary in a suit.”

“Everyone’s a secretary in a suit,” Joey said. “I’m a maintenance man…. Who’s just himself.”

Joey turned for the door, and Scott said, “Ey, Joe? You good friends with Fee?”

“Yeah,” Joey said. “Me and Felix are cool. You all were friends in college?”

“Yup.”

“Cool that you all are hanging out,” Joey said.

“Yup?” Scott said. “Maybe we can tonight. Could you pass him a message?”

“Maybe. I mean, the day is busy?”

“You never see him?” Scott said.

Joey shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

He caught Joey’s hair in his hands and pulled the boy’s face into his chest, wrapping his thighs around him while he fucked Felix harder and harder.

“Almost,” Joey panted, thrusting again, “there.”

Felix ran his hands down the boy’s sweating back, and pulled Joey in. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth feeling Joey fuck him, feeling Joey deep inside of him.

“I’m gonna come…” Joey warned him.

Felix had already come against his belly a few minutes earlier and now, with the last few thrusts, Joey made a staggering noise and moaned, “Oh—fuck—” as, pulling back from Felix, he came, and then finished coming, slick and hot, his damp head in Felix’s arms.

Joey rolled over and the two of them lay side by side on the bed, gasping.

When Joey had finally caught his breath, he turned on his side and took the wet cloth from the little table at the end of the bed, wiping his chest, wiping the semen from his stomach while Felix got up and went into the bathroom. Joey waited for the water to finish running and said, “Do you think I should go to college?”

Felix came out and lay on the bed beside him.

“It’s not for everyone.”

“That’s what I told Scott.”

“You could give it a try.”

“He just acts like…”

“Like what?” Felix said, looking at the ceiling fan as it twirled slowly.

“It’s like this… cure all. But it didn’t make him happy. Nothing makes him happy. I dunno,” Joey shrugged. “I just want to be happy.”

Felix turned on his side and Joey ran a hand over his chest.

“I love looking at you,” he said.

“I don’t know why,” Felix said, keenly aware of the imperfections of his body.

“You’re amazing.”

“I’m almost forty.”

“That’s not that old.”

“I know it’s not,” Felix said, brow furrowed. “But it is…. I was your age almost when you were born.”

“Wow,” Joey sat up. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Try not to think about it again.”

Joey made a vacant face and then a rewinding gesture with one finger.

“Already forgotten.”

“You should go to college,” Felix said. “For at least a semester.”

Preparing to get dressed, Joey squatted on his hams to pick up his clothes, and because he was beautiful and well built, cream colored with a broad back that went to a firm bottom, Felix got up and wrapped his arms around him as Joey looked over Felix’s books.

“I can’t be you,” Joey said.

“No,” Felix agreed. “Few can be. But you can be yourself, and that’s almost as good.”

Suddenly Joey turned around, climbed back into bed and pushing Felix down, straddled him.

“And now…” Felix began, “What are you going to do?”

Joey reached under him and took Felix in his hands, stroking him.

“Maybe ride the hell out of you?” Joey said, and looking up at the nineteen year old who looked twenty three with the scruffy partial beard on his jaw and the greenish blue eyes, the bronze brown curling hair, he immediately went hard.

“Do we even have time for that?” Felix said.

“You’re a writer. You can always make time.”

“But you’re the maintenance man.”

Joey laughed and as he did they both gasped, for he had just began to pull Felix into him, “Have you seen this shithole of a building? It’ll always need maintenance. I’ve got time too,” he said.

And then his mouth opened into a small o and his eyes went round as he pulled Felix in. Felix was quiet, his mouth open too.

“That’s,” Joey began as he began to move with Felix in him, “it.”

Joey fucked him like that, pressing his hands against Felix’s chest, and he made them both come together and then, while Felix looked up at his beautiful face, suddenly Joey looked very stupid, not fierce as he usually did before coming.

“What?” Felix said.

“I just remembered. My brother asked me to ask you if he could come over tonight.”

Hearing about Scott and still being hard inside of Joey was the weirdest feeling in the world, but all Felix could do was blink and nod.

“Yeah…” he said. “I’ll be free at nine.”