Wasteland. That’s a small town on the weekend. Nothing to do—gotta get creative.
When I was thirteen, my older sister and I got creative on weekends. She’d lot-lizard at the truck stop to buy a bag of good times. Back at the house, friends met us in the shed with beer. We got blasted on country music and weed, alcohol, then she found out about crack. Wouldn’t share with me, and it felt cool being with the older kids.
Drugs screw your memory. Sis forgot about protection and got herself pregnant, dropped out of school. Mom and Dad raged, begged her to go into rehab. After she had Cooper, Sis was back at the pipe. Her weekend creativity became full-time work. Scared the hell out of me what she looked like—bony, spotted skin, home-inked tattoos. With all the screaming between Sis and my parents and a crying baby, I stayed in my room. Felt guilty that I didn’t do anything to stop her from using. I knew it was wrong.
Cleaned up my life before I finished high school, joined the service immediately to get away from the temptation. Opted for 87M Motor Transport Operator in the military. Became a trained, certified truck driver hauling supplies, weapons, soldiers. Figured I’d become an OTR like dad, maybe buy my own rig with my sign-on bonus.
Did my four years without much hassle, returned home, glad to get out of the noise and cramped quarters. Dad and I hired on together driving short hauls for a local company. Nights, we helped Mom with baby Cooper. Maybe my sister was waiting for me to come home, Sis disappeared one night. We filed a report with the sheriff.
Cooper was an anxious, clingy tyke. When I was home, he was always hanging on me, following my every step. Gave him all the attention he wanted, kept him close. Figured he was storing up his feel-goods for school. Small towns raise world-class bullies; Coop didn’t have his real parents.
* * *
Built up a sizeable account and bought land outside town. Ten acres—on the side of a rocky hill, mostly forested, stream along one side. Recall the first day Dad I saw it, warm June day. The earth smelled sweet, grasses added their spice to the aroma, minerals thrumming up through the roots into daylight. Flourishing from underneath the soil, life burgeoned to the treetops. Bugs hovered over the blue-stems leaning, silvered in the breeze. Cool, dark stand of pines carpeted by browned needles and adorned with magenta peeks of poke.
Along the east boundary, the land dropped sharply to a stream. Further down the creek, there was a shallow spot where a dirt road crossed it, overgrown; canopied by oaks, buckeye. Quiet but for the birds and winds in the branches, fluttering leaves in silent applause, it woke my soul to be standing there. Felt like my feet had always ached to be here, my eyes found relief at the horizon over the preserve.
My new address: Jenk Jenkins, 10773 KYRR 4511, Deer Lick, Kentucky.
* * *
A few deep ruts on the drive where the old house was hauled off after half-decomposing. The original old house had been placed to view a small meadow in front of the wide panorama. Used the site of the old house as a gauge for placing my own. Had two insulated shipping containers stacked on the exact location. Got detailed plans for making my own home inside the big, insulated metal boxes.
Dad, Cooper and I spent the weekends with a few friends converting the boxes into a small house. Installed solar panels all the fixtures, wiring. By August, we had the well dug and the septic tank in. Furnished simply, painted and clean. Planked my boxes in cedar and added a deck to the second-floor bedroom making a porch off the kitchen. Snappy look, clean, neat and very private.
* * *
Only had two neighbors. I could see the corners of their house through the trees, about 300 meters on the other side of the creek. In the backwoods people don’t usually get inquisitive and Wanda Rudkis seemed okay. Brought frozen venison, and several fishing hooks with line while we worked one afternoon. Right behind her was her son Shay.
“You boys go set up a trotline on the pond, I’m gonna blast it next week.” Beavers dammed the stream.
Talked her out of blasting. We hooked up a cable to the winch on Dad’s four-wheel and cleared it without the noise and splinters flying everywhere.
Shay was around two years older than Cooper. Appeared a confident woodsman for being so young. Healthy, strong, and full of energy. No fish, but a friendship between the boys began that day.
Because my land sat on several kinds of limestone, there were outcroppings of rocks. Damn little holding the dirt in place. Cooper and I replanted the native plants to keep the soil, always choosing the plants the deer left. Our plantings would compost and reseed, the wild grasses were as tenacious as Cooper and I were about the soil; this would become his inheritance one day. Met with the lizards and snakes found the deer scrapes and rubs. Cooper always showed me when he found the narrow paths smaller animals made among the vines and rocks.
Shane came with us sometimes; he knew the poisonous plants and had a book identifying all the birds and animals of our area. When we gathered our tools after working in the forest, they’d run off together to play video games.
The boys built a fort, a hide-out by the stream, a lean-to in the pines. Summer was filled with laughter rippling across the land. Wanda let Shay bring an old hammock, torn in some places. The boys and I repaired it with what we could scrap together and hung it on the patio for their sleepovers. Tented a mosquito net over them, and I heard them giggling and talking after too many hotdogs on their own campfire.
Those days made me feel whole, settled and satisfied after the hustle and motion of forty hours on the road. Making a home stirred strong feelings inside me. Sharing my home with the boys made the feeling richer. No wonder Mom and Dad worked so hard to keep us going, keep us strong; keep us together.
* * *
Dad had his mind on my meadow. He decided I should make a garden. His decision, not mine. “Garden’s too much work. Out here it’ll become a buffet for the deer. I’m gonna leave it fallow.”
“You’ll still have the deer running all over.”
“So? I like looking over the hills, seeing the sky; I need my peace and quiet.”
Next week, Dad came by after work, told me that a guy from the county extension agency was coming out. “There’s this new electrified mesh they’re making up in Clifty. The company’s looking for test sites so I volunteered your place. They’re working with Ed. You met him a long time ago.”
“Dad, I don’t want a garden—too much work. You’re ramrodding me.”
“Well, my garden’s getting smaller—arthritis-induced shrinkage, my only begotten son.” He let that sink in. “And we have Cooper now.” He was slinging the guilt, so we paced the land together figuring out where to put the corn and tomatoes.
While we walked, “You’re my only begotten son, but not my only son anymore. We’re adopting Cooper. Got a lawyer yesterday. Your mom’s worried you sister may come back and take him. We can’t lose that boy.” There was something else he didn’t say, I could feel it as I watched his face.
“Right.” I hadn’t even considered Sis taking Cooper. Dad was right, Coop could wind up in an awful situation. Tucked a check in his pocket to help with the legal fees.
* * *
Bottom line: I didn’t want a garden was because I planned on sowing a few wild oats over the state line. Stack up the overtime and take a few days off here and there, let my hair down and enjoy the men I was made to pleasure.
I’ve been called skinny; I like to think my skin is fitted close to the bone. Had Dad’s deep-set brown eyes that some people thought were sexy and hey, who’s too ugly for a weekend romp in the woods? Made sure my set-up was extremely private, tucked away neatly in the trees; sex nest, secluded and discrete.
With the coming winter, Wanda’d be indoors enjoying her harvest. Heard she raised some potent herb. Oh, yeah, I planned on toasting up a good time in the cold weather that year with a nice, thick blanket, several cords of wood stacked neatly.
Started building up overtime. Tried to dodge Dad when he asked about all the extra hours I was working. He pinned me, “What’s up, Jenk? Are you seeing someone?” He wasn’t smiling.
“Maybe.” I tried to look away, but couldn’t.
“’Bout time.” He looked me right in the eyes, got really close and I thought he might spit, “Pick a good man and stick with him. We’ve already lost your sister.” That was all he said. Dad and half Hopkinsville suspected the reason I didn’t carouse with the women, and it was good to hear Dad loved me same as always.
* * *
Saturday, this guy Ed visited. Musta been at the Waffle Café with Mom and Dad. Cooper came with him, excited about seeing Shay. Wanda waved from her porch as the boys ran to the old road to meet.
I didn’t remember Ed. Said he went to work in the capital same time I was in high school, transferred back to Hopkinsville several years ago. He was friendly, slim build and filled his jeans like a champ.
Together we staked out an area for the garden, pacing the edge of the meadow. “Gonna have clear several trees to get full sun. They’ll put the panel on the south side, keep the battery charged.” He brought the literature. “This company’s looking for an endorsement. They’ll send out a crew to install everything correctly. Sound good?”
“Exactly what are they going to do?”
“They’ll take down those four pines, these aspens. Aspens take over, ya’ know. Till the soil, set the cameras and install the mesh around the perimeter at the stakes.”
“Cameras?”
“They monitor how the wildlife responds to the jolts in the mesh—strongest buzzes are at the top and bottom of the mesh. Smaller varmints get the bottom jolt. The higher jolts are at the top for the deer. Interesting design, should work.”
“I get to see the videos, right?”
“Imagine so.”
We talked water, slope, minerals and mulch. I was a somewhat awkward and extremely curious about Ed. Something about him made me feel itchy inside, kinda hungry.
Called Wanda and got her on speaker phone. The crew of installers would come while I worked. Wanda agreed to come over to make sure they didn’t damage anything. Ed explained what would happen, where to put the felled trees.
Plans were set for the garden I didn’t want, but maybe some hot dear meat in my future.
* * *
The installers came on Wednesday. Wanda came over, sent photos every few moments. Dang! She was hitting on the guys. Sent ten pics of one man with a dark crew cut. More sweaty, bare chests in those photos than mesh and wire.
Forwarded the best photos to Mom and Dad. They’d visit next weekend, bring food and all. Had to text Ed with pics of the installed mesh, “Saturday? All-day celebration.”
* * *
Wanda and Shay came when they saw my parents arrive. Boys played in the stream, Dad put on the music, lay on the hammock and we relaxed, enjoying ourselves when Ed arrived with wine. Couldn’t have been nicer.
“Let me see your phone.” Ed held his hand out. Sure, I handed it over, hoping Ed would notice the hook-up app icon. He had another plan and grabbed his phone as well. Soon, I was able to watch the garden from my phone in real time.
Thorough inspection of the mesh by everyone tromping around in the dirt checking the attachments, the posts and all. Wanda paused in front of the cameras, flapping her eyelashes. Dad didn’t give the mesh his stamp of approval after a thorough examination. Deer in Christian County are aggressive; Dad was leery. Cooper and Shay were having a great time learning about completing an electrical circuit.
Mom and Dad left; Cooper wanted to play video games and sleep-over with Shay. Great, I’d get time with Ed and made some fast moves. I jumped at the chance, and kinda held back. Started slowly edging toward him. Ed was willing, returned my smiles and glances. Not quite as eager as me, didn’t block my advances. Hadn’t kissed a man in a long, long time, and it felt great. Would have stood there for a week kissing if it weren’t for our hard dicks rubbing. Groping led to a mutual hand job, and it was pretty good too. My knees were weak, he was grinning.
Ed wasn’t married any longer, he said, and began dropping by now and then. Dang right I worked overtime—took a few hours off here and there when he was available. Suddenly I had a problem: every time Ed’s truck was at my house, here comes Wanda asking to see what the security cameras caught. “We got a panther?”
I showed her my phone, “Wanda, nothin’ in the soil now. No panther, but there’s a skunk that keeps wandering over.” Winced my eyes, hoping she’d leave. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples were obvious. Let her make a fool of herself flirting with Ed, then called it an evening to get rid of her.
Through that fall, the deer came to strategize how to get through the mesh, planning their thieving tactics. Cooper and I walked my land for thorny black raspberry vines, planted a thick row along the side of the garden that sloped to the creek. One side was going to be blocked well.
* * *
Got to be a habit, Cooper coming on Fridays, he rode the school bus home with Shay. Went to school with him on Monday and stayed with Mom and Dad during the week.
Following in Dad’s tradition, I made bedtime fun-time. After a fast shower, I sang while Cooper brushed, and I dried him: “I’m an alligator, I’m a mama-papa coming for you. I’m the space invader….” Tickles at that part. Dad always sang this to me when I got ready for bed. Ridiculous lyrics, must have come from Dad’s crazy years.
“Keep your ‘lectric eye on me babe,dah, dah… (Dry hair, comb tangles. kisses, and I tossed him on the bed.) Freak out—”
By that time, Cooper was ready for me to shut up and leave him alone. He’d jump in the bed, head under the covers waiting for me.
* * *
It was a cold night, around ten o’clock. Slid in beside him to find him checking the security cameras. The eerie light from the phone lit his face softly. He looked like Sis when she was a girl. Upturned nose, long lashes, square face with dimples, could be part Chickasaw with his dark hair and tan skin. Had a funny little brown birthmark, about as big as my thumbnail under his ear. My kiss-spot.
“Bigfoot out tonight?”
“Just the fox.” Checked again and turned off my phone, “That fence won’t stop em.”
“We’ll know next spring.” Pulled him against me.
“When you sing ‘I’m a mama-papa coming for you.’ What does that mean? Are you my daddy?”
“No, I’m your uncle.” Didn’t want him confused and this is Kentucky, “Your mom and I are brother and sister. Grew up best friends.”
“Do you know my dad?”
“Don’t think so. Do you know anything about him?”
“Gramma said I was named for his truck; it said Cooper on the side. Mom liked it, so I’m Cooper D. Jenkins.”
He cuddled close. Not sure where he got this idea, but I had to fondle his package as he fell asleep. Barely enough to grab, his little jelly beans were covered with the softest skin. It was his spike that intrigued me. When his tiny shaft hardened, he told me I had to “be soft,” which meant only fingertip strokes. His foreskin was long, it covered a tiny brownish-pink glans, slit peeking out. I was allowed to touch, but not tug his foreskin, he didn’t like that. Fussy boy, then he told me my package was ugly, I needed to shave all my nasty hairs. Said I looked weedy.
He had to have his kit powdered, especially on hot nights. Bed with Cooper smelled great in the summer.
That became our own tradition.
* * *
Holidays came, big dinner at Mom and Dad’s, turkey, dressing, house decorated with blue and red calico corn, pumpkins. All cozy, calm until Sis showed up unexpectedly. At least she was smelling decent and wearing clean clothes. Paper label still on her jeans; musta been shoplifting again. Dad smiled and slipped outside to lock our wallets in his truck.
Before we sat down, Sis announced she was moving to Louisville, needed help with Cooper while she was attending a cosmetology program. Mom became more concerned by the moment, “We have a beauty school here.”
Had to wonder if Sis was going to hit my parents up for tuition that would never see any school coffer. The next phrases out of Sis’ mouth were the ones we’d all heard before—talkin’ her dopey shit again.
Sis stood, “You don’t give a rat’s ass about me. I’m trying to better myself.”
Mom stood, “You get on to Louisville and better your stoned self. We’re adopting Cooper. No one has to ask us to take care of our son.” That pronouncement shocked me. Mom was usually patient but she’d had enough.
Sis left in a loud huff cursing and slamming doors. Cooper’s eyes were wide as he watched—he was waiting for her to take him, say something to him. Sis didn’t even look his way.
Turned him to me, “Hey, I love you. We’re best buds.” He rubbed his tears on my neck.
After dinner, he was quiet, still tearful. “Maybe she’ll get well and come back soon.”
* * *
Through that spring, the boy and I were busy on weekends—having a little brother was great. Planted the garden together, cooled off in the stream, ate outside. Learned about the worms and bugs first hand, made a scarecrow for the garden. Until the plants were knee-high, we didn’t have much activity on the security cameras. Then, it became an all-night circus.
Ed watched the fences as well, texted me and made arrangements to meet. We caught a few hours together here and there.
* * *
Took a Friday off—the entire day. Ed came at noon, took some photos of the garden and suggested a second fence outside the electrified mesh. Six-foot high and set it ten feet outside the edge of the mesh. Since the manufacturer funded the second fence, sure, I agreed to it.
He kept fiddling on his phone while I tried to get him into the house. Antsy to get naked and get Ed to pump my shotgun. Deep voice, strong arms squeezed me against his bushy chest. Had a sweaty, hard man on me, looking into my eyes, whispering what he was planning to do. Sounded almost like a threat.
Shivering with anticipation, “Well, get crackin’.” I was so hot by the time he penetrated my anxious hole, I almost shot off. When he saw my eyes go dreamy, he pinched my dick. “Hey, that hurts!”
“Back it down, boy. I haven’t started yet.” Curved his spine, he’d punch deep, then slip out slowly, biting my face, pulling my hair with his teeth. “Don’t you dare.” He whispered menacingly to keep my attention.
He had my full attention. I pinched his nipples, rubbed his taut body. Pinched my own nipples to distract myself. Hard to describe all the feelings that came along with being deeply probed and that satisfying rub. Couldn’t get enough; enough was problematic.
Hard to breathe enough air—my freight train was charging up Mt. Orgasm at full throttle, about hit the summit, leaking all over. Bed-aroma was heady, getting harder to hold it together. Had to hurry him up, so I began moaning and clinching around his rod as hard as I could, gritting my teeth.
He pumped faster and deeper.
Losing focus, I tried to keep tightening around him. My anal grip was slipping as pressure rose in my balls. Ready to give way—point of no return neared. Noticed the red glow begin creeping upward from his chest. Face full-red, he plowed and stopped. Deep, I felt his cock twitching and grabbed my rod, pulled off a heavy load, splattering both of us. Tilted his head back and thrust several times, eyes squinched shut, lips pulled into a grimace.
“You’re too quick.” He fell on me.
“School bus is coming in a few minutes.” Jumped out of the bed. “Next time, come on a week night.”
“Doesn’t work for me.” We went to the shower, came out enjoying the cool air; heard stomping on the porch, up the stairs. Cooper ran in the bedroom, out of breath.
His hair was sticking out, damp, he was red-faced. Between fast breaths, “Somebody’s down by the creek. You gotta see. He’s just lying there. Musta fell.” He ran back down the stairs.
Pulled my shorts on, “Who is it?”
“I dunno. Hurry!” Cooper was halfway to the drop-off. Shoved my feet in my sneaks, grabbed a shirt. Dressing as I ran, I saw Shay waiting for us, leaning to look over the drop.
“Stay back.” Had about five feet of topsoil over bedrock where he stood. It eroded easily near the forty-foot drop to the creek. “Get back here.”
Leaned and looked—there he was on a small rock ledge, “Go bring my phone, Coop. Shay, get over to th’ old road.”
Dark stains on the shirt, hair matted to his head. The guy didn’t move, probably dead.
Old, grown-over dirt road about a hundred yards away, connected our houses at one time. Shay and I trudged to the old road through the underbrush. Cooper came running with my phone.
9 -1-1.
“This is Jenk, Jenkins out on 4511, just past mile-marker fourteen. There’s a body by the creek. Tell the sheriff to get out here.” Signaled the boys to stay while I ran to the stream, looked back up to the ledge, “Looks like a plastic bag from the Bi-Lows, blue shirt, dark sweats. That’s all I can see.”
“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll be here. Tell the EMTs to go to Rudkis’ place, down her slope…. I’d say about five, ten feet… north side of the county road, on a ledge above the stream… Gonna need the ladder truck…. They’ll see when they get here.”
Hung up. “Sherriff’s coming.” Figured it was a drug-related crime. Lot of labs in the back woods.
Ed left before the deputies arrived.
* * *
Sirens wailed as the deputies passed, heading to Wanda’s. Local tub of law enforcement, Sherriff Reggie pulled in front of my house.
Quickly, I pulled the boys aside, “Shay, you’ll probably get questioned too. Just tell them what happened – that’s all. Don’t say any more about anything else.” Called Wanda to say the deputies and EMTs were at her place; she didn’t like cops of any kind and headed home immediately.
Upshot was the boys saw the blue shirt in the weeds from their high vantage on the school bus. Cooper came to the house as soon as his feet hit dirt. None of us had any idea who it was or how he got there.
Wanda screeched into my place, took Shay home before he got questioned.
The sheriff was patient and slow asking Cooper what he knew, then he asked me a few questions. “Not much to tell—I just saw the body and called.”
Several deputies scoured the bushes, through the woods with hounds after the sheriff left.
Sun going down, we went inside. Cooper came to me, helping with dinner, “Are you gonna marry Ed?”
“Would you like that?”
“Sure, he’s smart.”
“I’m not?”
“You’re different smart.”
We ate, cleaned up. In bed, “When people die, where do their ghosts go? Do they get lost?”
For his age, Coop asked a reasonable question, “Remember when your class went to the zoo and everyone had to hold the rope?”
“Yeah. Ghosts go to the zoo?”
“No.” Had to chuckle. I leaned close, “Heard tell ghosts have ropes too. When they see a lost ghost, they toss him a rope to grab. Ghosts stick together like people do.”
Quietly considered that, “Are you sure?”
“If I knew what happened after people died, we’d be living in the vat-eye-can.” Had to pull him close and kissed his spot. Powdered, rubbed and content, he fell asleep.
* * *
Ed started coming Friday afternoons after work, stayed the weekends. Packages came for Cooper from Ed, bright tee shirts decorated with cartoon characters, electronic tops, sling shot, different toys. Found a boy-sized red pocket knife, showed him how to use it.
Thought a lot about Ed. Wondered if he’d consider me as a partner, had a cock that drove me crazy and the man was expert with his tool. Sounds sex-centered and there was more, I enjoyed being around him. Had a calm nature; he was smart and available. Couldn’t understand why he’d come to Deer Lick to see a gear-jammer and a skinny kid. With his looks, he coulda had a hundred different men. Hell, maybe he did but I had him for two days a week.
Through the summer, Ed helped shore up the fences, planted tobacco. With extra reinforcement, it succeeded in keeping the deer out but the corn was tall, and a mean temptation to the ruminants. After addressing fences, we went to the springs to swim, into town for ice cream, and Ed always asked Shay to come along. The boys had a great summer, I was a satisfied man.
* * *
Ed began dropping by more often. With Cooper and Shay around, it felt like family. I was on the verge of asking him to clarify things, commit to something like a pre-engagement. Couldn’t even talk seriously about anything except a quickie coupla times a week, the fencing and the boys. Didn’t know why I was so hesitant.
When in doubt, call Dad: Dad met me at the rest stop outside of town. “Be honest with him. You never know, he may be looking to settle down. Then again, because you want stability doesn’t mean he won’t play the field. You may settle for that kind of arrangement. Ask him, what’s the worst that could happen?”
Didn’t answer that, but I knew the single life well enough to know I didn’t like it much anymore.
Before we left, I spotted a truck from Cooper Distributions. “Dad, did Sis ever say anything to you about Coop’s dad?”
“She talked to your mother, not to me.”
“You’re not interested in knowing….”
“Leave it alone. Coop’s my son now.” My dad was a determined geezer, and he was the most loving man I’d ever known. Loved Mom, loved kids, really loved me, even showed me the best gloryholes and rest stops around the state. Devoted family man, and more open-minded than he appeared in his Peterbilt buckle and boots.
On the way home I wondered if I could backtrack the date from Cooper’s birthday and find any truckers in the area around the time Sis got herself knocked up. Truckers are required to keep logs, Cooper Distributions drivers included.
* * *
Only took one guy on the south side of town to run into a power pole and cut the electricity off to the plant where I worked. Drivers were dismissed at nine that morning, told to come back early the next day. A day off? I went to raid Mom’s kitchen and waited for Coop.
As soon as he came from school, he was all over me telling me about his friends and their recess play. Made him finish his homework while I watched the weather. Found him on my phone, checking my security cameras.
“The deer are messing with the gate.” He showed me.
“I’ll make more repellant.” He wanted to help. Packed him a bag and took him home with me.
As we passed Wanda’s place, I saw her car, next to it was Ed’s truck.
He’d probably be over later.
“Can I go to Shay’s?”
“Deer repellant, first.” We sprinkled the mixture around where we saw hoof prints, reinforced the gate post. Then Coop ran off to Shay’s. Within twenty minutes he was back, skinny arms around my waist, crying into my tee shirt. “What happened?”
“Shay said I wasn’t big enough, he pushed me out the door and off the porch.”
“Not big enough for what?”
“He said to go away.”
“Was he angry?”
He shook his head, wiping his nose on my shirt. “I don’t know.”
Needed to work that off. Took the scythe and a shovel and went to check the berries, they were flush. I let him tire himself chopping weeds, then took the scything. Down at the stream, Cooper dug for arrowheads. All the while I kept an eye on Wanda’s place wondering what was going on. Ed’s truck was still in her drive when we went inside.
* * *
Opened my computer and emailed an old friend from the service, another driver who worked as a programmer for the Tennessee transportation agency. Offered him venison if he’d help me find old trucking records. “The Cooper Distributions records?”
Said he’d try, and took the information.
Wasn’t planning on harassing anyone, but I was curious. If I had a kid, I’d want to know if he was safe, doing well. All the while I kept listening for Ed’s truck to come in my drive. Never came. Cooper and I both took a hit that day.
“I get tired of washing you, make sure you brush.” I growled at Cooper.
His eyes were wide, he looked up, “What about the alligator song?”
“You sing it while you get me ready for bed.” Reversing roles turned out to be a good distraction. We forgot our disappointments. “I’m an alligator, I’m a mama-papa coming for you. I’m the space invader,I got scrubbed to my shoulders, sat on the side of the tub for a drying.
Freak out—” I watched him clean up and brush, admiring his slender, stick-like body.
Yep, made him powder me and stroke my rod, explained that I wasn’t peeing the bed, but that’s my man-juice. “Best stuff in the world for the work a pecker’s got to do.”
The next morning Ed’s truck was still at Wanda’s. I hadn’t gotten a call, text, nothing.
* * *
Seriously irked, I texted Ed, “Not my business about your relationships, but I only play with one at a time—infection concerns.”
Ed called, “Well, I’m bi.” Said something humorous about having a non-discrimination policy. “You’re hottern’ a firecracker in bed. Good man, got a lot of what I like. Gonna be off next Tuesday?”
That was as goofy as something Sis would say. Turned him down. Instead of asking him about a commitment, I told him that he could take photos of the mesh, garden, and I’d prefer not to have any more personal dealings.
“Look, I’m not moving. There may come a time we have to help the other out, don’t want any friction.” Hung up.
* * *
That night, I’m blue, alone. Cooper’s blue, his friend ditched him. We went out to split and stack wood. While we worked, more information came from Cooper. I suspected the boys were fiddling around, but seemed Shay wanted more from Cooper after they learned about jerking and sucking each other. There was some confusion in his conversation at that point, he halted several times then wouldn’t explain any more. Didn’t sound like anything serious happened. I left it alone.
Went through our usual routine that night, by the time I got to bed, Cooper was asleep. Couldn’t rest, had a raspy feeling in my guts. Here I was, a crummy driver with no chance of promotion, living in two boxes in the woods with my sister’s kid, and a hoard of deer trying to eat me out of house and home, earth-mother neighbor stole my boyfriend and a bad-tempered boy messin’ with Coop’s head. Could it get worse?
Yep. Sheriff called the next morning, I didn’t answer. Didn’t want any bad news, though I kinda wanted Ed and Wanda to get busted for something. Maybe they were going to ask me about Wanda’s weed patch. Hoped not, I’m no snitch.
* * *
Monday morning, I called Sheriff Reggie.
“Jenk, fortune is smiling on you. The Bi-Lows bag found with the body contained wrappers covered with fingerprints. Prints led to Louisville police database, their investigators were more than glad to arrest several people and haul them in. They sent their thanks. You know, there was a reward for those guys.”
Let him ramble on, “Information leading to the arrest and conviction….” I’d led to that information though it was Cooper’s find.
The arrests and convictions were worth a hot five-hundred thou. Guns, money laundering, drugs; several schemes involved. Sheriff Reggie said he’d explain it all later. “Fill out the forms within thirty days or it’s gone.”
“See ya’ after work. Keep it under wraps.” Immediately I called Dad’s lawyer, asked if he knew about the reward process. If I was pegged by unidentified associates along the criminal pipeline, I might not survive to spend any funds. Lawyer advised me to put the money under Cooper’s name. Filled out the forms at his office, sealed them in an envelope with Sheriff Reggie’s name on the front. “Personal and Confidential.”
As it turned out, six other people had also contributed to the arrest and conviction, the reward was split between us. Reduced the amount of the reward, also reduced the taxes. Mom and Dad smiled all the way to the bank where they opened an education account for Cooper, under his name. With the money secured and invested, Cooper could be the first in the family to go to college.
* * *
More cash rolled my way. Wanda texted me about a deer lease, “Cash in exchange for eight weekends, plus venison. We gotta talk.”
The month before deer season, Cooper and I trudged down the old dirt road carrying a box of tomatoes. Wanda explained the arrangements with the bow hunters. Six older men from Clarksville wanted new territory and willing to pay extra to reserve for their exclusive use. We found a simple contract online.
Strangest thing came from that conversation. Wanda was humble. Ed dumped her when she wouldn’t let him at Shay. “Wanted a threesome, but he was after my boy. He’s a perv.”
“Life’s tough like that.” Was all the sympathy I offered. Cooper and I left, proud of being neighborly. Felt lucky I hadn’t gone any further with Ed and I was aware Wanda could be fudging to rouse some sympathy.
Hunters brought cash, set up two blinds and a deer stand above the stream on Wanda’s property. First weekend of the season, here comes their RV, parked it on my lot. Wanda didn’t want them near her weed patch.
We stayed inside while the archers crossed the creek, then shot back toward the drop-off. Quiet group of coots, playing poker and music. They bagged a number of deer, brought plenty of meat.
* * *
Fall chugged into the woods slowly that year, stayed warm till November. Ed came out a few times with the sales rep from the mesh company. The mesh fence worked, but only with other deterrents. My garden was no longer a test site, they had the information they wanted. Ed forgot the cameras, so I checked the batteries and aimed one at my house, one at Wanda’s house, the last stayed on the garden.
Instead of Thanksgiving dinner with my parents, I invited everyone for a cook-out. Asked my old army buddy and his wife to join us. Shay and Wanda came late, and I noticed the boys got back on good terms and went to play video games.
Stood by the fire, cooking when my buddy came near, “Found several names of Cooper Distributions drivers in the Hopkinsville area during the dates you gave me. From all the names I found, only one was night-driving with a weekend schedule. I sent it to you.” He winked. “Handsome boy, Cooper. Bring him over. We’ve got a pool.”
* * *
Everyone left late that night. While Cooper finished his chores, I went to my computer, and looked up this night-driver, Mike W #CDKCC54527. Searched for a photo with his ID number. Found it on social media though there wasn’t much activity on his accounts recently. Sent messages:
“If you were in the Hopkinsville stop, driving for Cooper Distributions, on the following dates and engaged with a woman with long, black hair and a yin-yang tattoo on her wrist, contact me. Jenk Jenkins.” Included a school photo of Sis, and my contact information.
Got Cooper to brush, shower could wait. Pulled him close after a quick powdering, and while I was giving him a soft rub, “If your real dad showed up, what would you do?”
“Shake his hand, I guess.” He turned, “Your army friend—is he my dad?”
“No, he was just a kid then.”
* * *
Cooper’s birthday was spent in Nashville with my army buddy and his family. My little sun perch wore himself out swimming, diving, eating like I never fed him. Laughing and teasing me and my friend, saluting and acting silly—Cooper was more out-going as his body lengthened. Still skinny, but gaining some muscle. Dad and I had a sneer, but Cooper had Mom’s wide, smile. Gorgeous on my imp-boy.
Back at home, found an email from Mike. He wanted to know how I got his contact info and what I wanted. He suspected a shake-down.
“A woman I know worked the truck stop. She got pregnant and had a son. He was adopted. I asked a friend to check dates on the old trucking logs. You were driving for Cooper Distributions, something the mother mentioned. We’ll only discuss this again if you’re interested. If not, I’ll cease contact.”
* * *
Dad bought Cooper basketball gear for his birthday. Got the cement, and poured a slab, set the pole. I heard that ball bouncing till the dark every night Coop was with me. The exercise was shaping him into a different boy. Still boyishly cute, now more fluid, limber. That hurt my heart, in a way I wanted him to stay my little brother.
Months passed; Shay entered high school. He moved into town with family to join the school activities, I heard. Probably for the best, and it saddened Cooper.
Wanda was seldom alone, ramped up her herb production and had a full house every weekend, reckoned she was charging a cover and selling “refreshments.” Coop and I shot baskets, went in at dark with music blaring from across the stream.
* * *
As Cooper grew, he became a very relaxed companion, mellow, no adolescent anxieties. We had a good routine doing our chores together. Got the cedar siding stained, built a tool shed. Didn’t hurt getting an informal sex ed class nightly, he was comfortable with his body changing, knew what to expect. My beautiful boy, my companion and friend was sailing toward puberty smiling.
Mike emailed brief questions several times; he was interested yet reticent. Wasn’t about to give him any specific information. Had to meet him first, check him out. Said he lived over in Pig Hill, off I-65, isolated rural area, mostly farmland. Not many folks out there.
Guess his curiosity finally got the best of him. A month later he agreed to meet me.
* * *
Had to be subtle about meeting Mike. A new daddy could disrupt our family order, “Coop, I’ve got to go toward Pig Hill next weekend. You alright with that?
“Are you going to get me a new bike? You need me to pick out the right size.”
“No bike. I have an appointment. I’ll try to get back in time for dinner.”
“Do ya’ have to see the doctor?”
“No. Personal business.”
“You got a boyfriend. That’s what it is.” He grinned.
“Nope.” I stroked his hair, “My kind of guys are hard to come by around here.”
* * *
Next Saturday, I got a haircut before I left, Mike would be waiting for me in Bowling Green at two. My gut was tight, anxious; wondering if he was a going to turn out to be a jerk. Inside, spotted him at the bar. He looked much better than his picture. Dark hair, tan skin, lanky with golden-brown eyes; Cooper’s eye color.
“Mike?” He shook my hand.
“I don’t know if I’m the man you’re looking for, but I’ve been through Hopkinsville at night too many times.”
Signaled the barkeep to bring a pitcher to a table by the windows, showed him the last photo I had of Sis. “Lotta gals have the same tattoo. Did you recognize her face?” As he turned to stand, I saw a dark spot on his neck, under his ear. Could be coincidence.
He took the photo, studied it shaking his head, “Can’t say I do. That was so long ago—those were my crazy years.”
“Had a few of those myself.” Kept the conversation light, talked trucking, roads, bad food, highway patrol. He didn’t mention any kind of relationship or children. Said he had to drop out of KYSU in his junior year and took up long-hauls; West Coast turn-arounds.
“The route took me through Hopkinsville four times a week. I wound up staying there several months, not by choice. But it worked out for the best…” He sipped his beer, glanced at the menu.
Stays in the jail don’t work out well. State mental hospital’s just outside the city limits, “Nice country around Hopkinsville, glad things worked out.” Our dinner arrived.
I couldn’t eat. For some reason, I hadn’t been able to concentrate during the last few moments of our conversation; excused myself to the restroom. My jeans straining, briefs glued to my hard cock, and I was leaking like a two-stroke engine. Dang, took me almost ten minutes to get things back in decent order. Splashed my face with cold water, took a few deep breaths and went back.
Getting dark out, I cut to the chase: “Willin’ to take a DNA test?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “I’ve got nothing to offer a kid—I really don’t know anything about children.” He thought for a moment, “Why is this so important to you, are you his adoptive father?”
“No, but I know him. Good family, great dad.” Looked directly at him, “You don’t have to give the boy anything, only meeting you—knowing you’re a man of character. The boy wants for nothing, and he needs to know the man who fathered him is a strong, honest man – not a horny trucker buying sex—he’ll eventually figure that out. Fill in the gaps for him yourself, build his confidence.” I glanced at his face to see if his expression might reveal a response.
He only looked at his empty plate, wiped his mouth. “Felt alone that night, only wanted…” He stopped.
We pulled our wallets out when our check came, I noticed his last name was Wilkinson. Mike Wilkinson. “Let’s talk again. You don’t have to meet the boy in person. You can email, send photos. Boys need to know their father is smart, ethical, with a good heart.” Took a chance, “Like your father—bet he’s a winner.”
He smiled and nodded, “My dad’s the greatest.” Paused, “Is all this true?”
“This is not anything I’d lie about, and if I did, do you think I’d find some guy from Pig Hill to swindle? I haven’t asked you for anything but a mouth swab, and if the boy is yours, he doesn’t have to know now. Doesn’t ever have to know. I can say I tried.”
Outside the door, “The boy, is he… Is he challenged—does he have a disability?”
“What difference would it make?” I walked away.
Behind the wheel, I wondered why Mike asked about a disability. Either his family had genetic problems, or he didn’t want to know that he’d made a malformed child with a stoned hooker. Mike didn’t appear a vain man; wary, serious, yes.
Stopped on the way home for donuts and went to pick up Cooper realizing that if Mike met him, he’d fall in love with the boy the way everyone did. Left the donuts and loaded a sleepy Coop in my truck. I didn’t want to share my boy with anyone, but if this worked out well, it would be only fair.
* * *
Hadn’t seen Wanda or Shay in months. Coop and I pulled zucchini, walked the old road to talk about the deer hunters. We knocked, waited, knocked, waited, then turned to leave when she opened the door looking like five miles of potholes. “Jeez, Wanda you look sick. We’ll take you to the clinic.”
“Fuck off….” Skinny, dark circles around her eyes, sallow skin. When she spoke, I knew. She sounded like Sis, cursing—dope sick probably. Over her shoulder, I could see someone else in the house, a door closed in the hallway. “Is Shay here?”
“Shay’s busy.” She took the food and shut the door.
Deer season brought the hunters. They parked where they had before, set up their blinds further downstream. Easy cash, and a freezer filled with meat.
* * *
Mike and I continued emailing, he asked more questions about Cooper. I didn’t give him any information though Mike wasn’t on any sex offender list, and didn’t have a criminal record I could find online. Found he did attend KYSU, studied Documentary Videography.
The next email I got from Mike surprised me, said he’d take the test. Gave him the name of the company, a rundown of the process. At the end of that message, I asked if he’d been at the Western State Mental Hospital.
Immediate reply: “There was a sudden—event… a tragedy. It’s in the past.”
Well, he said it worked out for him, I’d have to take him at his word. He’d been guarded but honest so far.
* * *
That fall was more than quiet. Fences were still standing, though the deer had become aggressive with a few sections, little loss. It was the second fence that did the trick, along with vigilance. So much food, our freezers were full, Mom canned dozens of jars, we took the rest to the shelters.
Ed meandered in on a Sunday afternoon, came to check the fences, he said. I didn’t have much to say to him. He took a few photos while I sat on the porch, watching. As Ed left, he grabbed the basketball and called Cooper to shoot hoops with him. Gave him a hard look and shook my head.
Ed left, went to Wanda’s. Got a funny feeling about something wicked going on over there. Thought about calling the sheriff, what would I say? They hadn’t done anything I was sure of and only wanted their privacy, same as me.
* * *
Couldn’t lie to my parents, I asked permission when Coop’s test kit came. Dad told me where to put the swab, “And leave it there.”
Mom listened carefully as I explained meeting Mike. She read through our emails. “You have my blessing. He seems nice.” She hesitated, “Please, first find out if he has a drug problem—don’t let him make irrational promises and hurt our boy.”
Swabbed Cooper’s mouth and sent it off, told him I was checking his blood-ice cream level.
Had to cook up a scheme for them to meet. Decided on a gradual approach so we could back out quick if necessary. Exchange photos, write to each other, then a video call. Had to watch their interactions, then an informal meeting somewhere neutral if it went well.
Ten days later DNA results showed a ninety-nine-point three percent match. Mike was Cooper’s father, no surprise to me. Mom nodded; Dad snarled, and Cooper wasn’t quite sure what to think. He wasn’t sure what it meant in his life, I wasn’t exactly sure either.
Got an email from Mike. Instead of my plan, he said he wanted to meet Cooper in Russellville, about half way between Hopkinsville and Pig Hill. He was insistent. I was equally insistent about easing Cooper into a meeting. Within three days, they exchanged photos, made two calls. Mike rushed me, but he was courteous, positive with Cooper.
Cooper was unsure, showed no excitement or surprise when I told him I found his father.
Mike asked him about school, sports, general topics. Cooper stopped that conversation by asking Mike if he liked him. Could have been Cooper’s way of finding out if he was going to be dumped again.
Mike broke down, tearful.
“Why are you crying?” Cooper looked troubled, thinking he wasn’t liked, this whole meeting was only more hurt in the making.
“You’re perfect, beautiful, so smart.” Mike kept sobbing, “Never thought I’d have a perfect child, never thought I’d even have a child.” Mike excused himself, said he’d call back later.
Cooper looked at me for an explanation. I only shrugged.
When they resumed their call, I was sitting by Cooper when he turned to me, “Where did you meet Mike, how did you find him?”
“Oh, I, uh, met him online.” Had my fingers crossed.
“On the gay dating app?” So innocently asked, and he just outed me. “Mike’s handsome.”
I looked at the screen and grinned. “No, I didn’t meet him for a hook-up.”
Almost fainted when Mike told me he was on the same app. “But I never look in the Hopkinsville area.” He smiled, “Maybe I should have.”
* * *
The next weekend Dad was still upset about Mike, so I lied, said I was taking Cooper for new shoes. “The kid’s bigger by the minute.” Winked at Mom when we left.
The reason for meeting in Russellville was Mike’s parents. They lived in a retirement home there. Met Mike in the lobby, Cooper shook his hand. They eyed each other coolly.
We dined on bland retirement home food and met two charming people—Cooper’s new grandparents. They were all over Cooper, kisses, hugs asking him what was doing for the holidays, about school, how he spent summers. Their warmth brought some affection between Mike and Cooper. Three hours later, we almost couldn’t get out of there, but took a few moments to send pics to Mom. Cooper had to promise to come back; he was grinning, wigging around being the center of so much attention for so long. Mike mostly stood behind his father, smiling.
The whole day gave me a good feeling, and we came home without new shoes. Dad was still being ornery, chewed me out till his face was red for sneaking around behind his back. Kept apologizing, but I didn’t mean it. Cooper sat on his lap and showed him the photos, softened his attitude somewhat.
That very night, I called Mike. Got on Mom’s computer and he met Mom and Dad. Dad acted gruff; Mom invited Mike for Christmas dinner. He was spending the day with his parents.
My mom’s persistent, “New Years? Please come. We have to meet you in person.” He agreed.
Jazzed, I drove with a smile on my face all week—this was going to be the best holiday ever.
Every weekend, Cooper split wood while I used the chain saw. Cold winter predicted. Gloomy fall crept in behind the storms, I had the garden mulched, hosted the hunters, stocked the freezer and had a few extra Franklins.
Saw smoke from Wanda’s chimney, left several pumpkins on her porch with a note hoping she and Shay were well. Cars came and went from Wanda’s, like always. Saw Ed’s truck a few times. Still stung.
* * *
Work slacked around the holidays giving me time to plan. January first fell on Monday, I invited Mike for the weekend before Mom’s big dinner.
Racing the cart up and down the Bi-Lows aisles, Cooper was on a treat-seeking mission. His “found daddy” was bringing family photos, gifts. We bought a folding cot, extra blankets. Cooper cut pine boughs and rosemary, put them around, house got a good cleaning. Smell of roasting venison filled my home when Mike honked twice as he pulled in.
This meeting was different. Just us. A few quick hugs, joking as we unloaded his truck. Since that first video call, I believe Coop’s mind wrapped around who this man was—that Mike’s body was half of his body. Side-by-side they looked like father and son.
Gifts? Mike’s parents sent enough clothes to outfit an army for Cooper, sweats for me. Brought wine and fancy foods, more for my parents.
“Always wondered why people had to have seven rooms and they only lived in three.” Mike noted when he saw my place. While it was still light, we went down to the creek, showed him the garden and the fences, Cooper explained everything. My boy was proud of all he’d done, giving Mike the details. I was proud as I watched.
On the patio, “I split these logs.” Cooper grinned, pointing to the several rows of firewood. Mike reached for Cooper’s bicep, then pulled him close. The moment carried the relief of acceptance. Long, silent and warm—their bodies pressed together, their shared bodies.
Sliced the venison as Mike and Cooper stoked the fire, talking. Through their conversation I learned Mike had an older brother, Montgomery. Didn’t say much about him. He also had family in Tennessee and Missouri.
Great dinner, “I can’t thank you enough for Cooper, his parents and meeting you.” He glanced at me and smiled, “More than I ever imagined I’d have in my life.” He leaned to kiss my lips lightly, then he blushed. Had to hug him. They looked at Mike’s photos, continued their conversation. I felt like the richest man on the planet.
* * *
Since it was the last Friday of the year, we heard distant popping, like gunshots, more likely fireworks. The woods were damp with a mist, no concern if they were kids lighting cherry bombs across the hollows.
Cooper wanted to sleep on the cot downstairs, by the stove. Built the fire up, warmed the house. Mike and I got under cold sheets upstairs. Looked like snow coming, “Put another log on, Coop.”
Wind whipped, howled through the pines, a few limbs fell. Didn’t check the time, but the house was frigid when Cooper pushed me over, “The fire went out.” I moved, bumping into Mike who turned and we three cuddled closely together. I pulled the blankets over our faces.
Maybe it was a feral hog outside that woke me. Reached under Cooper and got my phone, checked the security cameras. Heard something brush against the siding. “Damn pigs.”
Studied the blurry images on my phone. I saw movement around Mike’s truck, then mine, shadowy figures with a flashlight. Oozed a sweat as I texted the county 9-1-1 to send a car out immediately. Don’t know why I texted “potential home invasion.”
Crawled over Cooper, “Quiet, someone’s outside.”
Mike’s eyes shone in the light of my phone. “Who?”
I shook my head and shrugged. He got up, pulled on his jeans, then pulled a blued SR22 from his bag. “How long before the cops come?” Whispered.
“Ten, twenty.” I showed him the video, “Two guys, maybe three.”
“Concrete sub-flooring downstairs?”
“Two-by-eights at sixteen inches under three-quarters.” My stomach clenched, “Wait. Wait as long as you can.”
Coop watched wide-eyed. He went back under the blankets, pulled them over his head, scared.
Dressed quickly, tiptoed downstairs behind Mike, phone against my chest. Pulled my Colt off the rack, stuck it in my waistband.
Shading the light from my phone with my hand, I stood beside the door with Mike. We watched the figures walk around looking into the trucks, went to the shed, tried the lock, then neared the porch. Stopped several times to whisper to each other, one went around the house. Another approached the porch, stepped near the door, third man stayed several feet away holding a heavy bag.
The man at the door reached for the knob, I broke a sweat, stopped breathing. Mike held his gun pointed downward, ahead of him. Didn’t hear anything for quite a while. Was this guy going to pick the lock, shoot it off, or blast a hole through the door and reach through? Camera didn’t pick up what he was doing.
Waited long, silent moments as the man turned the knob, then shuffled around. Soon, a small scratching inside the lock. The surface bolt would hold for a few shoves.
Left hand open, against my stomach, Mike pushed me back away, nodded to the stairs. I stationed myself half-way up. Placing my feet apart and lifted my Colt, two-handed hold. He wouldn’t get further than one step inside. Held my breath.
More long, silent, moments, had to wait, see what he’d do. The knob turned, shook a little….
Like thunder: “Another move and you’re dead.” Mike screamed and fired three shots rapidly through the floor near the threshold. Shook the whole house. I lifted my gun, barrel aimed chest-level, ready to fire, cocked, finger on trigger, heartbeat shaking my brain. Suddenly, our truck alarms went off, headlights flashing, horns blaring. Darkness outside cracked with noise and blinking lights.
Footsteps hit the floorboards of the porch, a few, fast steps. The guys outside couldn’t run fast enough toward the old road to Wanda’s. We watched them through the window.
“Can I pee now?” Came from upstairs.
“Pee, then back in bed.”
Two sets of keys hit the stair beside my feet. Grabbed both and headed toward Mike.
* * *
The men were at the old road, near the stream when a spotlight jumped through the trees; headlights turned into my drive. Two black SUVs skidded to a stop outside—deputies.
Mike and I ran out pointing to the old road, “Three of ‘em, that way.” About half an inch of snow had fallen while we slept, clear footprints coming and going to Wanda’s. Another deputy’s car arrived at Wanda’s, blue lights tinting the misty air. As black SUVs from the county buzzed down the old road, we watched. At Wanda’s, lights flashed, EMTs showed up, loud voices across the distance.
I turned off the car alarms, and looked on the key fobs: “Panic.” Maybe Cooper was panicked when he heard the gunshots but not so much he couldn’t add to the confusion.
The man holding the bag had dropped it near the garden. Mike retrieved it and held it toward the first deputy, “They dropped this.”
He looked inside briefly, “Shee-it” then carefully put it in the trunk of his SUV.
* * *
Nothing else to do but put a pot of coffee on, build the fire and answer the questions. A deputy was making himself at home on the sofa. “Nope, call the sheriff. Won’t speak with anyone else.”
Just as the deputy stood, the door flew open. Sheriff Reggie stepped inside, his uniform jacket over his white tee shirt, dungarees and house slippers coated with snow. He was breathing hard as he dismissed the deputy. Before questioning us, he checked Cooper and me asking if we felt shaky or scared, then he met Mike. “Mike Wilkinson? Have I met you before?”
“I don’t think so.” Mike had to answer questions, but not so many. He showed Reggie the holes in the floor, explained he didn’t want to kill anyone, only scare them away. “Jenk had my back.”
Sheriff Reggie patted the sofa beside him and asked Cooper why he turned the car alarms on.
“It’s a panic button—you want me to show you how it works?”
He stared at Reggie until Reggie nodded and smiled. “I understand how it works. Good job. You did the right thing.” He hugged Coop, “Proud of you, now get back in bed.”
I walked Reggie back to his car as he explained, “You know some folks think guys like you are… Well, kind of weak, girly, all that. I’d never say that, but you know what I mean. They didn’t think you’d be armed, and if you were, they weren’t expecting you to go on sudden-offense. Damn lucky those bullets didn’t ricochet, but Mike shot at an angle toward… Hey, I’m glad everyone’s safe.”
Didn’t answer him, just looked over at Wanda’s. More SUVs arrived next door—was that a state trooper’s vehicle?
“Know anything about what’s going on over there?” Sheriff Reggie asked.
Suddenly I became dumb, no recall. Didn’t say anything about Ed or the weed, Shay or anything. Didn’t want to be involved with their doings. This was more than serious if the state sent troopers. Said we hadn’t seen much of her in the past year or so. “Heard some pops earlier, coulda been fireworks. She’s stayed to herself, no contact with me.”
By this time Cooper and Mike were asleep. Pale light of dawn showed Wanda’s house as only a dark silhouette. I reheated the coffee.
* * *
Dawn brought another inch of snow covering the fiasco of the night. Went down to the creek, edged with ice. None of us said much. Our celebration bleak until Dad called. Wanted to meet us at Waffle Café. “There’s not a table big enough, Mike came down early and, uh, we had a problem last night….”
They had to come out and inspect. Mom was upset, Dad was quiet, clearly disturbed. Things turned around when Mike helped Dad repair the floor. Mom and Cooper sledded till they were tired.
Mike and Cooper became the family heroes that day. Back-ups get no glory.
* * *
Finally calmed down enough that afternoon to call Sheriff Reggie to see what was going on at Wanda’s. Got one of the deputies instead. He asked me if I had any valuables in my house, “Anything worth fencing?”
“Laptop, old CD player, usual junk. What were they looking for?”
“Coins, jewelry, cash?”
“I wish. What were they looking for?”
“Now Jenk, you’re not known for raisin’ hell but you got any drugs up there? We’re going to find out pretty soon, so if you do, ‘fess up now. Make it easy on yourself.”
“Nope. Remember your warrant, Sherlock.”
“Humph.” His idiotic intimidation didn’t work. “These guys came from the Rudkis’ place, most had rap sheets long the Alabama constitution. Somehow, they got the idea you had cash at your place, something like half a million. Had the blasting caps, dynamite, like there might be a safe to blow.”
“Zat so? Like I said, remember the warrant.” I hung up. My stomach tensed hearing that. Yeah, half a million rang bells.
“Mike, enjoy yourself. Cooper, bring wood in, I’m going to take a nap.” What a night, what a day, I was asleep before I hit the bed.
* * *
Sunday morning, we got the trucks packed for Mom’s. My mind was on that half-million those jerks thought I stashed. Dang right I knew someone in the sheriff’s office blabbed about me getting a reward.
The whole day was filled with Mom and Dad talking with Mike and Cooper; I had a low rumble of anger inside me that was growing by the minute. Got worse every time Mom told me to move back home; Cooper shouldn’t be out in the woods with me. She refused to believe the threat was gone saying someone else could come looking for Wanda and her friends.
Called Sheriff Reggie. “Jenk here. What’s going on over at Wanda Rudkis’ place? Anyone there now?” He rattled on about the place being empty, a few detectives would be out to gather more evidence.
Not enough information, “Who’s going to be living there?”
“No one I know of—her boy’s here in town with family. Maybe some of the Rudkis’ clan will come later.” Sounded somber, then he added, “Might be up for sale after Wanda and the DA chat.”
“Thanks. By the way, you remember back when you called me about the reward? When Cooper spotted the body?”
“Umm. Don’t remember all the details. The money was disbursed, right?”
“Yeah. Who else knew about it?”
“DCI, ATF, the judge who reviewed it…. The fingerprints from the bag found with—wait. Why are you asking? This is old news.”
“I tried to call you earlier and got Deputy Fife. He said the guys that came to my place were on the trail of half a million—on the trail with several quarter-sticks and blasting caps. Funniest thing—same amount as that reward. I didn’t get half a million, I had to split it, remember? It’s been sitting in an account under another name.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Someone from your office leaked the information about the reward and the wrong people thought I had all that cash at my place. Cash, gold, or something worth five-hundred-thousand. Cooper and Mike could have been killed, me too. You got a leak and I’m ticked. Really ticked.”
He didn’t answer for a while. “I’ll check into that. Let me handle it.”
“Tell your leak to put the word out that this hayseed’s got holes in his shoes when he goes to the bank, and he’s got his finger on the trigger at home. Got that?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
* * *
I went home that night, left Cooper and Mike with Mom and Dad. Couldn’t stop checking the security cameras. Around eleven I hear someone pulling in the drive; two short beeps. Mike came back alone.
“Your mom said you called the sheriff. What did he say?”
Only told Mike I came into some funds, put them aside for Cooper, but someone thought I might have it or the equivalent around here. Switched the subject, “Empty over there now, the neighbor got busted. She was probably dealing and drew the bad players.”
He thought for a moment, “Did you win the lottery?”
“Nope. Cooper found something. Turned out to be valuable to the right people.” I hedged; Mike studied my face.
“What did he find? Treasure, antiquities?”
Ed, Wanda, Shay, all my memories around them roused a churning deep inside my guts; pushed it back. “Nothing important. Here’s the deal, Coop’s has a college fund. Now we got to get his head aimed in that direction. He’ll be our first. You gonna help?”
“Sure. I’ll take him on campus over spring break. I’ll show him around, meet a few students. Buy him a beer.”
Came out of my funk, “A beer?”
“Just seeing if you were listening.” He grinned, “You’re coming with us?”
Maybe it was conditioned reflex, I leaned and kissed the birthmark on his neck. “I’ll think about it.”
He put his arm around my shoulders, his hand on my bicep, “Tense. Need a massage?” That old line reeled in a predictable catch, we went upstairs. Had a lot on my mind, asked Mike for a rain check.
We convinced each other to take the next day off. After a few calls, I had time to breathe, relax beside a man who was what? My brother in law? Nope, no marriage. We were in a way related through Cooper though. If Cooper was my adopted brother, did that make Mike my adopted uncle? Several glasses of wine later I didn’t care.
At the window, I saw a clear starry sky, still felt anxious, unsettled. “Need to work this out. C’mon.”
We dressed heavily; mounds of snow crusted with ice crunched under every step to the stream with flashlights. Air was sharp, clean on my face. Deer scattered ahead of us. We crossed over the water silently, and up to Wanda’s house.
Through the windows, we saw furniture scattered and trashed by the investigators. Three floors built on the side of a slope, rustic, roomy, with a wide vista of the preserve. My eyes burned when I noticed a small screen, wires, and controller. Shay’s video games; he and Cooper played there together for hours.
“C’mon.” I grabbed Mike’s arm and started jogging back to the stream. I stopped, saw a million stars shining in the rushing water. Stuffed my gloves in my pockets, tossed my hood back and knelt down, splashed the pure, icy water on my face watching it drip back, glistening. Felt like nails hitting my skin. Burned my hands, cleared my mind. Silently I ordered all the sick, dark thoughts about Wanda, Ed and all their friends—all their doings to the inky space between the stars. Splashed my face again and forced a smile.
Mike held out a bandana, smiling. “Happy New Year.”
“I’m gonna make it that way.” Ran back to the house like kids, tagging and slipping away from each other, trying to get to the porch first.
* * *
Warm air felt good, smell of a wood fire. More wine, laughter, and I was ready for bed.
I love kissing and got all I wanted. Mike was slow, tender, hummed as we made love. Took my cock in his mouth, teased me, made it like a roller-coaster ride. Almost there, then stop, slide back down, a few moments later, pressure built again.
“Stop playing around.” Pushed his head off my dick, slinging juice over the sheets, grinning. Pulled him on my chest tightly, kissing him and began humping against him, grabbed his rear, opened, fingered lightly. My skin ached for touch—salved by his warmth. Seemed only a few seconds, that’s all it took before we were attached firmly with our satisfaction.
Holding him against me, smelling him, feeling him—it felt perfect. Lay there, our sweat cooling quickly. Threw the covers over and slept deeply.
* * *
The forest wakes early. I got up, stood in front of the john peeing and checking my phone. Mike came in, “Put your phone away. Today is for us, relax. I’m going out to hike.”
Sounded good. Heard there was a spring on the other side of the county road that fed the stream. As we walked toward the road, I glanced toward the spot where Cooper saw the body. Right above it, a sapling, trunk as big around as my wrist leaning toward the stream. Went to inspect, then glanced at the rocky ledge below where the body lay.
“Are you going to cut it down?” Mike asked.
“No. It’s marking a place.” Memories rushed back—unpleasant memories. Here was new life where death was once near.
Winter had cleared the brush, hardened our path. Up the side of the hill, to the summit. Empty branches made a gray smudge above the land. Could almost feel the sap pulling through the roots to course the trunks. The woods looked dead, but they were building momentum for an explosion of green in sixty, seventy-five days.
Mike kissed me before he left to visit his parents. He was in a great mood talking about taking Cooper, campus tour, meeting old friends. I needed time to absorb all that happened, make my plans. This year had to get better; his kisses, his voice planted a seed of hope.
* * *
Mike re-enrolled, studied online and managed the family farm with an uncle. Cooper wasn’t allowed to stay on the weekends, though the threat was gone. Mom kept hounding me to move back home. Thought about selling my place, finding a fixer-upper in town. I missed my boy; but those times were gone. He was starting high school next year.
Lonely February, melancholia lingered, started going to the donut shop in the mornings—wanted waffles, but didn’t want to deal with the gossip. Some of the old coots were vicious, mean spirited, laughing at others’ misfortunes.
Sheriff Reggie would sit with me for a few moments every now and then with his favorite jelly-filled. Told me Wanda’s family was coming to put the house on the market. “Got to pay the attorney’s fees. Don’t go thinking they’re up to no good because they’re strangers. Leave your gun in the cabinet.”
* * *
Didn’t hear much from Mike. Dad was making retirement plans with Mom. Wanda and her crew had their lives decided for them. My life was going nowhere, self-pity made me nauseous. Worked that out in the garden shoveling and planting in the stinging winds of March.
Mike called with the dates of spring break. “Take the week off, we’ll go camping.”
“I’m busy.” I droned, I didn’t know anything about higher education and didn’t want to look a fool. “Besides, could say I camp out here every day.”
“Fine. Cooper and I are coming to get you.”
* * *
Mike came on Saturday, brought Cooper. We walked the land, checked the fences around the garden. Dad was staying while we were gone. Brought his two shotguns, one loaded with rock salt for the deer—it would only tickle my herd.
Stopped in Russellville to see Cooper’s grandparents for some heavy-duty doting. I noticed they slipped Cooper several fifty-dollar bills. “Get everyone a Hot Brown. They’re famously good.” Stung to realize it but yep, they were full-fledged family now—warm, comfortable together, loving.
* * *
Mike found a hotel with an indoor pool near campus. Cooper wanted to swim. As we sat in the atrium watching him in the pool, an older man joined us. Mike stood, hugged him and introduced him as Dr. Everett, one of his professors, tall, slender, black man.
Mike pointed to Cooper. “He’s my son.”
“I’m so glad for you, he’s beautiful. He’ll need my classes soon.” They laughed.
“Well, maybe engineering, dance, who knows what he’ll pick for a major.” Mike answered quickly, glancing at me. “Coop’s the first in his family to go past high school. He has funds, so I’m talking to his parents about prep school.”
Dr. Everett nodded, looked at me. “You’re his—uncle, cousin?”
“Adopted brother, call me Jenk.” We shook hands and enjoyed a nice afternoon.
Over several drinks and I found Everett knew a lot about Deer Lick. He was born in Wolf Lick, just down the road from me, about ten miles. What crazy stories he told from my father’s time. We laughed till we ached, I knew the families he spoke about, heard about the comical incidents. Also found out he was the head of the Performing Arts department.
Before he left, he handed Mike a gift card, “Find Cooper some green and gold gear. Get this boy on campus as soon as you can.” He looked at me, “KYSU has a summer camp for kids, they explore different careers, meet the professionals, talk to them. Lots of sports, food, meet the other kids they’ll see on campus later.” He put his hand on my shoulder, “Once a boy has a degree, he can go anywhere with it.” He looked at Mike, “Thanks for getting my Mike back in school.” He winked.
Dr. Everett, the staff on campus and a few students staying over were welcoming. Cooper and I left campus feeling good about the place.
…
Went home on Thursday, took the rest of the week hiking, rock climbing together. Soil smelled sweet; trees budding, blooming. Headed across the road to the wellspring, had to pass by the wild black cherry sapling.
Cooper stepped toward it, “Look, there’s a tree where we found him.” He stepped closer, wrapped his hand around the smooth gray bark, stroking it. “Betcha he’s still here.”
“Who did you find?” Mike smiled, “Or is this where you found the treasure?”
“Not important now.” I tried to get them to move on, my chest tensed with memories of Ed, then Wanda and the craziness they caused in my life.
Cooper had to stop and explain seeing a body on the small, rock ledge below the tree. “Jenk called the sheriff, they interrogated us….” He thought for a moment, “We only saw he was wearing a blue shirt, and had a Bi-Lows bag. Looks like his ghost is still here. Think it’s in this tree now?”
Mike’s face changed, “You found a body? When?”
Cooper looked at me, “I was in third grade. During the last weeks of school—in May. Right?”
“His shirt—what color blue?” Mike’s eyes glazed over.
He thought for a moment, “Like Wildcat blue—Oreo package blue.” Cooper stared, “You alright?”
We watched Mike’s eyes fill. He turned away and made an eerie, squeaking noise. “That was Monte, my brother Montgomery.” He dropped, sat cross-legged and looked up at me. “I came—had to identify his body in the basement of the hospital.” Mike gasped several times. “They shot him in the head, his bones broken, bruised….”
Cooper and I sat with him as he cried. Covered his face with his hands and rocked. Went to put my arm around Mike, gave him my bandana, unable to fathom the horror of identifying his brother’s body, the trauma. My stomach went queasy.
Coop stood, dug in his backpack, pulled out a rope, tied it around the wild cherry tree and dropped the end over to the ledge. He leaned over the drop off, “Grab on, Monte.”
Then, he came to Mike, “He’s not lost to your heart anymore.” Coop wasn’t sad, but spoke softly, confidently as if he’d fixed everything. He told Mike not to cry, “He’s been here, with us, waiting for you.” That’s when my eyes filled with tears.
Feeling Mike’s ribs jump with his sobs, I understood “a sudden tragedy.” Mike had come to send his brother’s body home from the morgue, darkest of family tasks. He’d lost control of himself and was taken to the hospital… “But it worked out well.” It came clearly, Mike’s past, his reticence, his apprehension of meeting, loving a boy all came clear. He couldn’t take another loss.
As we walked back to the house, Mike stopped and looked at me, “Wait, you found Monte’s body—how did… Cooper has an education fund?
“I got a reward when the guys who killed your brother were convicted.” I started, “It was Cooper who spotted the body.” Hung my head, “In a way, Monte’s giving Cooper his education.”
* * *
Outside that night we watched the sun set, all quiet until Cooper asked Mike about his brother. He described them as closer than most, Monte was a year older than Mike.
“We did everything together. But Monte was different, ‘special.’ Lost oxygen for a while when he was born, that made him a little slow.” Mike stopped for a moment, “I kept him close when we were young, more like his older brother—like you and Jenk in some ways.
“Monte wasn’t stupid, he could read and write, work his figures. It was his judgement—his judgement wasn’t good—he thought everyone would treat him like family, like I did. Mom pulled him out of school because of the bullying, he was home-schooled. When I went to KYSU, he fell in with the wrong people, he wanted friends but found the wrong people instead. They used him as a mule, carrying cash, drugs, then killed him. Because he knew their names and he could identify them—he was a risk.”
That clarified how Monte came to be dumped along the road. “That’s when you started driving?”
“I just dropped out of everything after that. Dad got me a job driving a short bed. I like driving and moved into the big rigs. Being on the road, the music and the land flying past, hum of the engine; calming.”
In the middle of his recollections, he looked at Cooper, “That’s how I met your mother. She was kind to me one night, she showed a big heart for a lonely trucker.”
Cooper took his father’s hand, and led him inside. I stayed outside, stewing in my self-pity. Very painful realization came. Finally, father and son. They’d be closer in the future. There was some satisfaction that I found Mike and made this work out, Cooper now had a big family around him with resources I’d never have.
Got the cot out and slept, not peacefully.
* * *
Cooper’s school year was jam-packed with studies, sports and helping Dad on weekends. Mike was back on the farm.
Back to my solitary life. I decided to plant turnips, honeydew though I didn’t like either. Berry vines full of hard, green knots of coming fruit. As I walked down by the stream, then around to the flat land further down the stream, I noticed sprouts, hundreds of them, all the same height. Were these from Wanda’s hemp plants? Checked on my phone; sure enough. Too much work to cut down.
* * *
My parents had their own plans. They had the garage converted to an apartment for a rental, that’s what they said. They wanted me back with them. Not yet, but my future didn’t look bright. Saw myself as the future Hopkinsville bachelor-recluse, wearing high water pants with coffee-spotted tee shirts from past political campaigns on my way to the Waffle Café for my only social contact.
My home, my hideaway only brought me heartache and that damn herd of deer. As I hoed, chopped, sweated, I thought about my relationships. My family, Cooper, Mike, friends from the service and work, none felt close any longer.
One thing stayed close, the earth. Dirt that fed me from the garden, water that ran through my body like the stream ran below. This was where I felt most at home, in my rightful place. My relationship with this place was strong as it was between Cooper when he was young. Same as my Dad when I was young. They nurtured my spirit, my soul, made me feel appreciated, needed. Yet this rich earth, sun, stream, couldn’t fulfill my needs, my deepest needs.
Thought more as I drove, as I worked, as I cleaned and cleared, shored the fences. Resignation to loneliness was sick—I needed to make a change while I was strong enough to do it right. Couldn’t think of a way to make my two metal boxes or myself any more appealing.
Sneakily, hopelessness started creeping around. The only thing that would make my situation worse was a call from Sheriff Reggie.
Summoned the devil with that thought. He called.
Again, I didn’t answer it, and dang if he didn’t pull in that evening. “You’re the luckiest son of a gun I’ve ever met. All that stink with Wanda Rudkis and you come out smelling like a rose.”
“Don’t have anything to do with Wanda.” Continued dodging.
“I know. The men you scared off, they got busted with Wanda. All their wheeling and dealing led us to another gang. Through them, we found a meth lab over by Pembroke. Got the entire manufacturing crew. Had to dart their pitties, to get in—man, you should have seen it. Several had warrants out, two guys on the Most Wanted in Missouri. Took four months all told, one of our biggest busts to date.”
“So?”
“You gave us information that led to the arrests. Missouri’s already convicted one, the others follow. You know the process.”
“So?”
“There’s a reward, that’s what I came to tell you. Gonna be a big one.” He grinned.
“Yeah, how much and how many do I have to split it with?”
“We don’t have the total yet. You’ll only have to split it with one guy, the owner of the Jolt-M company, the guy who make the electrified mesh fences.”
“What? Why him?” This sounded shifty all of a sudden.
“He reviewed and kept all the footage off the security cameras in your garden. Turned all his videos over to the state after they attempted a break-in, all the ruckus. When you aimed the security camera at Wanda’s that’s when he got the vehicle makes and models, a general description of the guys coming and going over there. Videos are great in court, sure-fire convictions.”
Forgot about the cameras being up all these months. He’d kept watching all the time? “Plug your leak yet?”
“Just me and the DA know. I’m handling it myself. You deserve a break after all you and your family… Hey, where’s Cooper?”
“Prep school.” I sighed, “The reason they call it prep school is because they prepare the kids by pushing the students hard, like they’re in the university. Coop’s busy every night, working with Dad on the weekends.”
“Glad he’s going to a better school but you must miss him. I would.”
Couldn’t continue that line of thought, “Life’s like that sometimes. I haven’t seen anyone at Wanda’s place. When is it going to be on the market?”
“Her family’s going to sacrifice it in a short sale.”
“How much?”
“Wait till they’re done remodeling, then ask. There was a lot of damage.”
“Keep this under your hat and let me know about the forms.”
“Sure thing.” Slapped a big manila envelope on the table and left.
Inside the envelope was an application for a county job with a note saying that the Sheriff’s office was recruiting for diversity. They had several openings; flunky jobs working in the office. I’m queer, but no one’s token queer to assure their federal funds.
Took that application and went to the computer, searched for other openings with the county. There was a position for a site manager with the extension agency, Ed’s job. Quickly went to the sex offender registry—he wasn’t there. Did find his mug shot; caught for money laundering, fraud, a few other things having to do with falsification of records. Current address: Eddyville Pen.
* * *
At lunch the next day, I called the CEO of the Jolt-M company. I only got real-time videos from the cameras. I wanted a copy of what he sent Reggie, ask him if he wanted his cameras back. He said he’d send the copies and told me to keep the cameras, “Watching your place is better than a soap opera. Get those boys back, they were great.”
Readjusted the cameras after that comment. One on Wanda’s, one on the garden, the last one aimed at my drive.
* * *
Started taking down the dead trees on my place, mowing, cleaning out the brush. Reggie was right, I missed Cooper, but my boy had his own life now and edging closer to KYSU by the day. Thought of Mike; he was on my mind often. My heart stung. He’d be on Pig Hill, later traveling the globe, fancy hotels with six figure salaries, Cannes, awards, great future.
Cleared both sides of the drive, planned on having it grated and topped. Came to the drop-off, figured I could use a split-rail along the edge. Noticed the black cherry sapling, trunk about as big around as my bicep now. Cooper’s rope, still around the trunk, “Grab on, Monte.”
Started stacking rocks around that little tree. Stacking and crying thinking of his brutal death and Cooper’s bright future. I wondered if Monte had been watching over us, keeping us safe so my boy could succeed. Thanks, Monte.
* * *
Dug through what I had, putting together a decent pair of slacks, shirt. Mike was graduating in two weeks. His whole family and mine were coming. Found a green knit shirt, with my only black slacks, dusted off my loafers. Had to borrow socks from Dad.
Graduation day came, Cooper was playing around in the barber shop telling everyone about his Daddy Mike. He had grown into a handsome teen, ruddy cheeks, and thick, black hair. Found a nice card, and a box of CDs for him to give Mike. Inside the card, I simply said that Mike would have to come visit for his gift from me. My heart ached to see him again, hold him again.
* * *
Graduation was crowded, hot and Wilkinson is at the end of the list. Cooper was fidgety, Dad was cranky making Mom shush him. Patiently, I noted all the information on the program, all the formality. I saw Cooper walking that same stage, receiving his degree, kinda like becoming a knight in a court with all the robes and important people on stage.
After the horde dispersed, we followed a line of folks going to Pig Hill. Huge crowd, family, friends, employees of the farm. Beautiful old house on fine land, gently rolling hills, acres of wheat and corn. The reception was catered with people in snappy uniforms. Musta been two or three hundred, all with gifts. Everywhere, kegs, wine by the case, tables with green and gold ribbons and plenty of music.
Since Mike and Cooper were at the center of all the commotion, I simply handed Mike his card, stepped to the side. My parents and I stood watching, sipping champagne from thin, stemmed glasses until I felt someone bump into me. Half-turned to see Dr. Everett at my side.
“What’s shakin’ Jenk?” Winked and shook my hand.
That made me laugh, I introduced him to my parents and they started catching up on the local gossip together having a good time. Everett was so debonair, confident, easy-going, made me stop and think about his obviously coded conversation at the hotel.
* * *
Lonely summer a-comin’. Took to gardening in my boots, gloves and boxers. Didn’t care about the details of dress anymore, and if a snake wanted a taste of me, he could choke on it. Apathy accompanied my hopelessness.
Wanda’s old house was remodeled, new appliances, flooring, even the outside restained and trimmed. Open house signs posted along the road every weekend and not a soul came by. Waffle Café crowd said the land and the house were cursed. Any buyer would be hexed as well. It stood empty since December thirtieth—asking price falling by the day.
Hottest day of June, Sheriff Reggie brought a six pack after he got off work. We sat outside feeding the mosquitos. Had another envelope with him.
“Reward forms?”
“Not yet. This is another application; we’ve still got those openings.”
“I would have applied already if I wanted it.”
“C’mon, Jenk, you might like it.” He looked me in the eye, “You have common sense, we need that. Built your own house, keep the deer out of your garden, help your parents—outstanding reputation. People respect you.” He leaned closer, lightly grabbed my wrist. “This is a chance to make a difference, change things in the department—change things for… change things for the better.”
“Let’s take a look at this mule’s teeth.” I leaned back, “You’ll hire me for 16K a year, pfft. You want me to be the target for armed men with a kindergarten-level of tolerance? Go in every day to be insulted and have to use the restroom at the Waffle Café? Got the wrong man. The only change you’re going to make with that crew is simply run off any new hire who has a functioning brain cell. Thanks, but nev-ver!”
“Don’t be hardheaded. You know I’m doing my best with what I’ve got. You know it—have I ever insulted you?” He shook his head. “It’s a struggle, but I keep going in, keep trying.”
Felt a twinge of pity for Reggie, he had always been civil to me.
* * *
Cooper sent photos from career camp; he was always in a knot of boys with a basketball in hand. Didn’t hear anything about a career choice. Mom and Dad sent photos, they were having a great time with distant family, every night a big dinner while family caught up with each other’s lives at their reunion.
Mike emailed a few times; he was doing well, meeting all the right people. Planning to work in Europe, then Australia. Felt so low, I didn’t answer him.
The month wore on, remember clearly it was a Saturday when I saw a car pull in at Wanda’s place. Watched from my kitchen window, grabbed my binoculars. The guy looked familiar—tall, slender black guy. Dr. Everett?
Jogged down old road. “Dr. Everett!”
“Who’s there?”
“Jenk – Cooper’s brother, remember? What are you doing here?”
“Looking at this house. Can’t believe it’s been on the market so long. Beautiful place, incredible view.”
“Yeah, I live across the creek.”
“Heard this place was cursed. Ridiculous.” He chuckled.
“You know what happened here, don’t you?”
“No, but I can’t believe it. Seventy acres—below rock bottom price.”
“Here’s part of the problem,” I walked him to the side, “Over an acre of weed. From here all downstream.” Picked a leaf and rubbed it, held it to our noses. “High-grade.” Took him over to my house for a cold one, explained the last incident. “Attempted home invasion, everyone at the house got busted.”
He nodded, sipped and stretched back in his chair. “You like it out here alone?”
“Sure. This is my home, it came with a free herd of deer. What more could I want?”
Gave me a strange look, “Damn, boy. You drive all day alone, come home by yourself, you don’t even have a dog. You some kind of senseless ol’ hermit? You need to be out, meeting people, making the moves, shaking that sweet butt down in Nashville.”
Perhaps I was tipsy, “You know how hard it is to find a guy? No more bars, I’m looking for a partner not a play-date.”
“Try being a six-foot black fag from Wolf Lick.” He winked again and grinned.
Everett only said he was thinking about buying the house for short-term leases, but he didn’t like the different levels and stairs throughout the house.
* * *
That summer Everett and I went back and forth between Wolf Lick and Deer Lick cooking dinners for each other. Often discussed being queer in a small town. Early on, he’d had enough of it and moved to family in Frankfort to find other gay men. He was a smart boy, smarter young man, did well on campus and returned to become a professor. Found some satisfaction with his students though they came and went through the semesters.
“Damn hard on us sometimes, that small-town mindset. It’ll drive you off the edge if you let it. Imagine how many fags have lived here and left one way or another.” He shook his head.
I asked him about his lessons, and learned a lot from an older, wiser man who knew his Greek history well. As talented as he was, it always left me feeling empty; he kept alluding to another man he wanted to settle down with, “In a holding pattern for a while.”
* * *
Unloading a trailer full of kitchen counters when Everett called, and kept calling until I answered. “I need a favor.”
Went to the end of the loading dock, “Sure. What’s up?”
“Happen to have a former student working with the extension agency in Christian County. He just got hired and needs an assistant. Last guy in the position let it slack, now Greg’s having to catch up on several years of backlogged work.”
“Yeah?” Sounded like Greg got Ed’s old job.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Everett wasn’t making sense.
“Apply for the job, you’ve got my recommendation and a good reputation. Ask the sheriff and Mike for a letter. Get a job you enjoy, pad your account and help another guy out. You’ll like Glen.”
That night, I went online and filled out the form, using Everett, Mike, and my friend from Nashville as references.
* * *
Worked out well when I applied for the assistant position. Didn’t need a degree, my experience was enough though I suspected Dr. Everett greased the HR pipeline for my paperwork to slip through. Did have to take two courses online during my first ninety days. Easy training, just basics on soil testing, pH, a few things I already knew.
Glen supervised me from his office, gave me a list of farmers who’d been waiting for a visit. Clipboard in hand, I went out alone. Mostly, I listened to the farmers and filled out reports. Glen worked from my reports while I met hundreds of farming families. Every kind of farm, every kind of crop, some high-tech, some using the ancient ways; most had a deer problem.
Looked forward to work every day. Not rocket science solving difficulties, common sense with some chemistry and botany thrown in—Glen always answered my calls from the field. Most information was on the county website; heavy-duty problems were forwarded to the capitol. My confidence grew along with a lot of satisfaction—the posture of my spirit straightened to hold me firmly in the center of my life with pride.
By filling out the job application, I had to list all I’d done in my adult life. Seeing that, I realized my life was great, better than I’d thought except for being so alone.
* * *
That winter, the office holiday party devolved into a Waffle Café gossip-fest, I left early after my secret-Santa gift was a pair of sheer red briefs. The nutritionists wanted me to model them, following me to the parking lot flirting and getting way too close. Glen got a candle that smelled like sex on the beach and a good laugh off my embarrassment.
Holidays neared, I bought Everett, Glen and Dad a bottle of brandy, Mom wanted a new air conditioner for the house. My salary allowed all that, and found an electric bike for Cooper. Wasn’t sure what to send Mike, I emailed asking what he wanted.
* * *
Glen moved in Dr. Everett’s house in Wolf Lick, they had a permanent relationship between semesters. I delivered the brandy and several venison roasts, then went to Mom’s to switch out the air conditioners. Christmas dinner with Coop, Mom, Dad, quiet and I was grateful that year—we were all still together, healthy, strong. Saddest part of the meal was when Cooper left the table before dessert, had to finish his homework, “I’m on deadline.”
Tough drive home alone. Miserable failure in the relationship department, not even a holiday hanger-on to enjoy the season with. Coop was running with a different crowd, not the public-school rowdies, but boys aimed at KYSU or other universities. Dad was ready to retire—he and Mom were shopping for a compact tractor so he could take small contracts around the area mowing and tilling gardens.
* * *
Pulled in my drive, and immediately another truck pulled in behind me. Big blue truck with an extended cab; headlights blinked. Sheriff Reggie. Of all nights, I didn’t want to see him. Found a package at my door and took it inside, watching Reggie.
He seemed a little slower than usual. Carried a Bi-Lows bag with a six pack, “What’d you come out here for?”
He didn’t answer, just made himself comfortable on the sofa, popped a beer and looked at me. “Gotta bend your ear.”
“Don’t you wanna be with family tonight?”
“Just don’t want to be there.” Paused, another long draw. “I want to be here right now.” He sat for a while, just sipping his beer, elbows on knees until he leaned back, “The divorce was finalized.”
Didn’t know he was married. “Too bad.”
“Well, we’ve been separated for about eight years.”
I nodded, “Life’s like that.”
“Left the department this afternoon—doctor told me I can’t work any longer. Too much stress for too long—got diabetes and high blood pressure. Have to lose forty pounds. Not good for me being sheriff.”
“Sounds like.” I waited. He was quiet. “Reggie, why are you here?”
Big sigh, “Just figured you’d understand better than anyone else.” Drank the rest of the can, I took it from him. He snuffled a few times, his eyes filled with tears. Face was red, chest started heaving, he was starting to cry.
“Let’s go walk this out.” Grabbed his arm, a flashlight and walked down to the stream, crossed and walked briskly up to Wanda’s around her house. Wondered what he’d say about the weed patch, we walked that way. As we neared, he took a deep breath and chuckled. Surprised me when he walked through the plants, shoulder high and heavy, “I could use some tea. Got any butter?”
“Margarine.” Odd request.
He whipped out his bandana, pocket knife, harvested quite a few buds. “They teach us all about this at the conventions, ya’ know. Million ways to do the stuff.”
“I’m sure.” Crapola, it would take all night to get rid of him.
We walked back down to the stream, scattering a herd of deer, back up to the house. In the kitchen, he carefully rinsed, and chopped the herb finely. “Get some water on, not quite boiling.” While he touched his finger to the margarine, and gently rubbed the crumbs of buds in his palm, he smiled at me. “I knew you’d help. You’re a fine man, real fine; the very best.”
Set out cups, honey, puzzled by his sentiments. Had to wait a while for the weed to simmer and steep. Reggie must have been super upset, he drank his cup down and went for more. Tasted like tar to me. Wasn’t too long Reggie was telling goofy tales about the deputies, nothing I didn’t suspect, they were a dull-witted gang of creeps. He roared with guffaws that spiraled into giggles several times.
Just as he was telling me about when he was a boy, I pulled the cot out, opened it. “Reggie, still not sure why you’re here, but stay over. It’s two in the morning and you’re crispy around the edges. We’ll go for breakfast in the morning.”
“Waffles? Me and you? Wouldn’t that be a sight?” He finished his third cup of tea, then mine, whole body shook with laughter.
“Why would that be so funny?”
“Coming in early with a queer, it’ll look like I joined your team.”
Stared at him and with hands on my hips. He would be ashamed to be seen with me at that dive? He would be ashamed to be a fag? Thought about that for a moment, he just told me I was a fine man. I’d heard about this happening before:
“Reg, why do you think you keep coming out here? Why do you think you’re divorced? Why have…” Had to think of the right word, “Why do you have health problems—you’ve been suppressing, hiding, keeping yourself stressed, afraid someone will find out you’re a homo.”
His eyes got big and his lips started moving in strange shapes. Did not expect the man to start wailing. I left him a blanket and a pillow and went upstairs.
Damn disgusting. I had a stoned ex-sheriff moaning like he was passing a stone downstairs. Another man was on his way to another lonely life, just like me.
Didn’t sleep well. While it was still dark, Reggie came and lay on the bed with his blanket. Snored like a chainsaw, I went to the cot.
* * *
Early, I went to the garden in a sweatshirt, boxers and boots, damn deer trying to break through the outer fence. Got my tool box while Reggie continued snoring. Around ten I went in, ready to chase Reggie home. Didn’t get the pleasure, here come Glen, Everett; starting to look like the Hopkinsville Pride Committee at my house.
Glen heard Reggie snoring, he’d seen his blue truck, “Sheriff’s here?” He looked around at the beer can, glanced upstairs and grinned. “Never suspected you went for men in uniform.”
“Go make the coffee.” Had to organize this mess, “Everett, go upstairs and talk to Reggie, he outed himself while he was stoned. Wasn’t able to adjust well last night.”
“What do I say?” First time I saw Everett confounded.
“Give him the big gay secret. Anything—be uh, reassuring.”
“What’s the big gay secret?”
“Life can really suck, but it gets better.” I muttered and aimed Glen toward the coffee pot.
“That’s no secret.”
Took Everett to the stairs, “Right. Make up something else.”
* * *
Glen took me to his truck. They brought gifts for me, long underwear, muck boots, candies and cookies, that put me in a good mood. We started a pot of chili, listening to Reggie and Everett upstairs exchanging their own personal gifts. Took Glen across the road, up to the spring, then the to the summit and back.
Got back in the house to find them showered, they’d made more tea. Reggie had that wide, moronic grin of recent defloration, Everett was whispering to him, probably a secret. They were both giggling and nudging each other like teens.
Glen and I dished up the chili, spicy and hot. “Reggie, when am I going to get that reward?”
Everyone looked at Reg. He was in a nirvana-state, with a cracker in both hands, “Should be in the mail, maybe first week of January.” He grinned and glanced at Everett, then blew him a kiss.
Funniest thing happened before they left. Reggie said he’d be by later for a serious sit-down.
* * *
They left for an informal party in Wolf Lick. I didn’t join in. Had enough of Reggie. I looked forward to a quiet day cleaning. Found that package left on at my door, opened it and found the softest, lightest and most beautiful deep yellow-gold sweater. The note tucked inside was from Mike, he’d met a man…. Leaving the states to work abroad. My heart hit the floor, but I’d expected this to happen, hoped it wouldn’t. Still, my heart hurt.
Rubbed the sweater on my cheek, “This’ll look just fine with my high-water pants, strutting to the Waffle Café for a rush of someone else’s personal calamity.”
Doomed, I felt doomed.
* * *
Put on my sweats and jogged over to Wanda’s house, thinking I may have to buy this house, lease it out to vacationers who didn’t know its history. A few taxidermized deer heads on the walls, cluster of dogwoods, redbuds, maybe a hot tub would draw enough cash to pay the taxes.
Followed Reggie’s procedure to make tea, opened the cookies and had myself a pity-fest. Miserable, and enjoying it, I was broken from my reverie as Reggie’s blue truck pulled in. Brought in a big, brown paper bag.
“Hey, Everett sent mistletoe.” He held up a sprig, “I like kissing, especially men.” He gave me a peck on the cheek and began tying sprigs together with sisal twine and hanging it all over my house. Heard him in the bathroom, humming holiday tunes, at peace with his new world.
“Reggie, come here. You wanted a sit-down.” Hoped he’d leave so I’d have time alone to commune with the deer. “Let’s get this done with so you can go on with your holiday.”
I offered him cookies and tea, he said they weren’t good for his health and brought himself a glass of water. “What is this serious set-down about? Out with it, I’ve got things to do.”
“I like the way you walk things out. Let’s go outside while it’s still light.”
Crossed the stream and walked along the other side, “I was going to tell you, how much I admire you. All these years, I’ve watched you from my marriage, from my office, saw your struggles, how you kept pushing forward when it got hard. I never had to do that. Followed my parent’s dreams for me because their money made so easy. Unfortunately, they never knew me well enough to know who I really was or what my dreams were about.” He was almost out of breath, but kept walking, “I wanted a man to love.”
Took out his pocket knife, began cutting pine boughs, “Now I know the secret. It’s not always going to be easy and it gets better. The good outweighs the difficulties when you’re true to yourself. Everett says to be proud of who I am no matter what, when or where. Other’s opinions, their gossip, isn’t my concern. It never was. I only needed to hear that, now I’m free. God, it feels good.” He lifted my hands and began stacking the boughs across my forearms.
Walked back to the house with the sharp, clean smell of evergreens in my nose while he told me he’d come out to his parents yesterday at the age of forty-three. They only said to take care of himself.
Inside, he began bunching the boughs and hanging them around, smelled fragrant, looked festive. “I’m going to buy that house next door.” He smiled at me, “Neighbors?”
“Reg, no. You don’t want to live out here. Ticks, deer everywhere, skunks, feral hogs. Bad out here, and the curse, you heard about? Ghosts up and down the stream every night hollering’. You’d hate it. Bad decision, very bad. Got to be a better place for you in town.”
He eyed me suspiciously, then looked in the refrigerator, “Do you have any salad?”
“Nope. Mustard or turnip.” Thought that would send him home. Instead, we had a nice post-holiday dinner, greens, eggs with a fancy sauce on biscuits he’d made himself. Played cards, music, made popcorn. Almost felt like Christmas.
* * *
New Years was an interesting holiday. Glen and Everett offered to give Reggie a trip to the spa in Louisville. He nixed the idea, told them he would go after his farewell event at the sheriff’s department, “I’m going to tell the entire city and county I’m queer when they give me my plaque.” Looked straight at me, “You have to come.”
“You said you wouldn’t be seen with me at the Waffle Café!”
Glen spoke up, “We’ll all be there, and I’ll ask that woman from the water treatment plant, and Mario from Animal Control. You’ll have support.”
“The more the merrier.” Reggie grinned, took a deep breath, “I invited my parents. Maybe they’ll put on a good face in front of the crowd.” Thought it odd when Everett offered to help him write his speech. He said something about using his words wisely for those in the closet and others to come.
* * *
Reggie’s luncheon was a big affair, held in the basement of the courthouse. Several hundred people; I stood with Mom and Dad. Met all the others Glen invited, nibbled a few pimento-cheese sandwiches. Kept an eye on Reggie’s parents, his dad ran for mayor a few years ago, didn’t get elected, too hard-nosed even for Hopkinsville.
Very thoughtful speech. Reggie, wearing a purple sweater, recognized several people in the department and stressed that among the people he served and protected was a wide variety of folks. Emphasized including all kinds of people in all levels of government. He praised the diverse community, “Because we’re not only paid by them, but we’re charged to serve all.” He looked directly at me, “And it’s been a pleasure.”
He didn’t outright say he was queer, but said he’d suffered the insults from being outside the mainstream in a number of ways. Several more speeches and comments, a plaque, gifts and applause.
Afterward, I introduced Mom and Dad to Reggie’s parents, “Reggie’s been a blessing to me, to us. Sad to lose him, but glad he’ll be in town.”
* * *
He’d be close by. Yep, instead of out-bidding each other for Wanda’s house, we decided to buy it as co-owners. He moved in immediately, I had to wait while he decorated. Last month in my home, summer coming, and Cooper called, said he wanted to stay with me for a few weeks. “Did Mom and Dad tell you what’s going on out here?”
“Sorta, I need to talk to you. Please?” Sounded serious.
Came out on his bike and sneaked up on me in the garden. When I turned, he held me, hugged me like he wouldn’t let go. “I miss this place, I miss you. I want it to be like it was before, when I was a kid.”
“Let’s go inside, I’m hot.”
“Can we go down to the stream like we used to do?”
The beautiful tyke I’d bathed, showered and powdered was tall as me, and just as thin. Thick bush of hair with a fine cock, big smile, dark stubble. Now, a beautiful man standing in the rushing water, droplets shining on his skin. Naked, we walked back, “I’m moving in with Reggie.”
“Are you lovers?”
“We’re co-owners. That’s all.”
Coop was quiet for a while, “Will you powder me like you used to?”
Got the powder, didn’t have a chance to use it. Cooper held me against him hard, rocking quietly. “I’m not ready to let go. Don’t make me go to KYSU this fall, I need some time off, time to think. Prep school was great, but I had so much homework every night, then I worked with Dad on weekends. I can’t take it much longer.”
Turned to me, and pressed his face against my chest. Tears came, I remembered so many years ago when he’d cried after his mother left, when he lost Shay. Now he wept with exhaustion, sounded like he was losing himself.
“Sweet Cooper, calm down and rest, it’ll work out.” Felt him kiss my neck.
Several more admissions came softly. He wasn’t sure about his sexuality making him uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure if he’d get scholarships he wanted or keep his GPA up. And sounded like he had no social life.
“Okay. First, I’ll give you the password to your education account, check the balance yourself. If you need any extra money, I’ll get you a debit card and reload it. Mike’s parents can help, just call them. Now, about your grades. You don’t have to be perfect; you’ll get a good job without a four-point-oh. Look at me, no degree and I’m doing fine. Forty-eight months, summers and holidays here with me, and you’ll have your degree.”
His sobs slowed.
“Am I gay or straight or bisexual or what? When I heard Reggie talking, I figured he was gay, but I suspected that when he came out and asked about the panic button. I heard he’s going to drive a rainbow truck in the parade this year.”
Had to chuckle thinking of Reggie waving at the crowds, grinning. “Did you talk to Mike or Dad about your sexuality?”
“No. I mean I talk to them, but they want to talk about school, my major—all that.”
“Give me a minute to remember when I knew I was gay.” I closed my eyes, smelled his hair, trying to recall, “Been queer all my life, never knew anything else. Sis, you mother, liked guys and I did too, seemed normal to me. I had a few crushes in school. Sis told me I’d be in big trouble if I asked them to go out or tried to kiss them, she protected me. Dad kept me close, maybe he was protecting me too. Do you feel like you’re attracted more to men?”
“I loved Shay. Does that count? I see kids at school, but… I don’t know.”
He moved around a little, our cocks were both hard, “Have you met someone, fooling around with anyone?”
“Mom doesn’t want me to date. She tells me all the time about waiting till I’m married and can support a child. She leaves condoms on my dresser every week.” We were quiet for a long time.
Palm on my chest, he stroked along my pec, “I’m still, well, still a virgin.” Whispered so softly I could barely hear him.
“When I was your age, I used the handle of Dad’s trowel.” I chuckled. “You don’t have to decide now, it’s not important to me if you’re gay, straight, bi or whatever. Trust me, sex is only a small part of life….”
Couldn’t finish my thought, he turned my face to his and kissed my lips, then harder. Felt his tongue; returned his thrusts. Our torsos were coated with juice, the kid’s dick was gushing. “You asking me to…?”
One swift move, he lay on my chest, and nudged my knees apart. “Please.”
Held him against me with my arms, bent my legs to pull him against my groin. Slippery, warm, I nodded, smiled and drew his face close for a kiss. Beautiful young man began awkward moves with his dick on my cleft. Kept slipping, we were sweating. Afternoon sun behind him made a glow around his young body. Stopped just to watch him, smell his clean, raw aroma and saw his frustration.
Helped him line up and told him to lean on one arm, aim with the other. Didn’t work. I turned over, got on my knees. “Try again.” My hole was ready, my cock full and my balls were on the starting line; at Coop’s age this may not last long. Wanted to watch, but put my head down, grabbed my leaking rod and shut my eyes imagining what he was doing. Relax. Exhale. “Come on, Coop.”
Been a long time, almost painful, his teen cock could have been made of stainless steel. Started feeling good; I moved around, we got into a comfortable rhythm. Moaning softly, I encouraged him, he kept gasping, hips started pistoning rapidly; I was beginning to drown with the sensations, hard to breathe. Grunted with what he was doing inside me, pushed back against him as the darkness settled around us. Stopped imagining, only focused on that incredible pressure with every stroke, heart beating wildly.
Didn’t hear anything before the sound of a zipper, footsteps and felt weight on the bed, Cooper stopped.
“Keep going.” Reggie came looking for us. He was naked, and lay beside me, grabbed my throbbing shaft, looked into my eyes, “Keep going.” Soft words, from the darkness.
Didn’t have to ask Coop twice, he went full-speed, grabbing my hips. Thighs began shaking, he groaned between breaths, continuing with full focus, hell bent on giving me a memorable fuck of the deepest kind. Body shuddered as he filled me, and he kept pumping till he couldn’t take anymore. Sweating and spent, he pulled back and plopped down beside Reggie, put his arm over him and kissed his neck. Gentle, silent gesture made me come, shot again and again till I was incredibly emptied.
Two men. A dream I’d never dared to dream. Reggie pushed me to the side, and centered himself on the bed on his back, “You’re going to love this.” He stroked Cooper’s face, and I watched him swipe my cum from my chest, big glob on his finger, the he reached between my boy’s legs, “Relax, relax. Breathe.” My boy nestled his face by Reggie’s ear. The whispered for a few moments.
He proceeded to wrap my boy in loving words—telling him how beautiful he was, strong, and how proud he was to know him. Coop’s eyes were only half-opened as he studied the movements inside him. Reggie fingered him and continued with gentle words, kind words saying he knew how hard it was, and this would pass. They were quiet for a moment when Coop’s body jerked a little. Reggie began humming, holding Coop close. Continued humming and fingering, I believe he slipped a second finger in, Coop jerked and moaned. Young, pale dick filled again. Found a way to get beside Cooper and began sucking, licking. Strong, indistinct smell, rich taste, he gushed more man-juice again.
Surprised me, Reggie had a thick, grayish-pink cock, not exceptionally long; it looked plenty thick. He asked Cooper if he wanted to feel filled with a man who loved him. All went quiet for a moment, “It’s going to hurt.”
“If you want, just put your leg over me, and take what you want. You’re in control, my valentine.” What a romantic, I never expected that from law enforcement.
Turned out Coop ran his hand through my hair, pressing my face into his groin while Reggie continued humming some strange tune and rubbing inside him. We both felt Cooper’s body tense, his hips moved several times before he grabbed my hair, moaning. He cried, cried out loud, a groan with each breath, quicker. Reggie’s forearm muscles tensed as he rubbed harder, faster inside my boy. Tremble, stop, moan; the taste in my mouth changed. Stronger. Tremble, stop, moan; blasts of cum. I was honored. Then Cooper relaxed on us. I kept swallowing, caressing his shortening rod gently.
While Cooper gave us a weak grin, Reggie withdrew his fingers, slowly, gently, telling him he was loved, take it easy on his young self. That he was always there to help him. “If you want a man who loves you to fill you, I’m here.” He kissed the boy’s forehead, holding him close.
Erotic? Nothing I’d ever seen on the porn I watched, but it was incredibly erotic—wait, that was tenderness that came from a loving heart.
* * *
Cooper took a month off with me. I went to work while he helped Reggie pick out rugs, curtains, all that stuff I’m no good with. Hot summer, they ran the big house in their underwear as the worked though the empty house, called to meet me at the stream in the evenings.
Cooper liked working in the garden. We took the bounty to Everett and Glen in Wolf Lick. Those men loved Cooper, I watched how they interacted with him. They teased Cooper while he watched tv, asking him if he was hard when a woman came on the screen, then a team of rugby players, then animals and cartoons. They drove the point home that you love a person for what they believe, and how their life reflects it, then consider what’s in their drawers. “Many kinds of people and many kinds of love.” That seemed to reduce Cooper’s stress better than I could.
* * *
The parade was a hoot. Local car dealership let the county workers drive seven trucks, in line of bright rainbow colors. Balloons, crepe paper, whistles, and flags everywhere, it was colorful and loud. Didn’t recognize many who filled the beds of the trucks, but they were handing out stickers, candy and balloons to the crowd. Glen and Everett wore Hawaiian shirts, Panama hats and sunglasses while the music blared. Reggie wore a brown tee shirt with a big rainbow-striped star on the front, in the lead car. I drove the green truck full of teens all dressed in crazy costumes and wigs, screaming at their friends as we slugged past.
Citizens watched the rainbow passed, amazed. Most took to it well. Mom and Dad needed lawn chairs, that was Cooper’s job, and taking photos.
We invited our gang back to the big house, cooked out on the deck. In the middle of dinner, Reggie’s parents pulled in. Kinda quiet, but they sat and ate with us, all enjoying the evening together. They didn’t stay late, but they didn’t make any snide comments either. They even smiled a few times, I do believe those were rasta-tea smiles, can’t be sure.
Reggie was making a difference, pushing change forward in his way, and I noticed people’s minds began turning when he shoved his brand of change.
* * *
Glen took Cooper to work with him several days. Everett and Glen convinced our boy to go to KYSU in the fall, start with easy subjects, English, Math and take a few electives. They were aiming Cooper toward a degree in Agriculture and Natural Resources.
Cooper looked like a new kid, smiling and excited about his life when we took him to the airport to visit Mike for a week in Vancouver. From there, he’d go to KYSU as the first freshman from our family.
Long, hard path for him, blazing his own trail with courage. Disheartening path for me.
* * *
As we drove home from the airport, Reggie wanted to splurge, celebrate himself. He pulled in the Waffle Café. I shot him a look.
“Hey, you guys needed a good first-base man.”
The crowd greeted us as we passed the booths and coffee bar. I nodded, smiled. Several came to sit and gossip. Funny how he treated people when they began sleazy tales about others in town, he’d ask them “Is that fact, opinion or slander?” He’d chuckle and they’d leave. Finally, I enjoyed a waffle in peace.
* * *
Had a strange conversation on the way home. Reggie asked me if I could ever love him. My mind was expected to find a, well, a different kind of guy; rugged, masculine, thick head of hair, well-endowed. The opposite of Reggie.
Like he could read my mind: “I’m not manly enough? Think I’m a nelly pouf with baggy skin?”
I didn’t answer.
“No movie star here, and I never will be. This extra skin, my conditions, all badges. Badges of courage for keeping everything important inside until—until you made me drink that rasta-tea.”
“What?”
“The very first time I saw you, I admired you, I loved you. I was so scared of what that meant—god I dreaded those thoughts, hated thinking them, and my heart kept loving you.” He shook his head as he pulled in the drive, “I made it. No small feat. Now, do you think you could love me even with these badges?”
Again, didn’t answer. Lot to consider. I’d have to give up my dream of my perfect guy. Hard to do after it had been there so long. Thought about that further. I knew what my husband looked like, what he would do in bed. Never really defined his character or the relationship between us. My mind glossed over those to only imagine him in bed.
* * *
I went back to my containers to sleep that night. “Could you love me?” Strange question, I loved a lot of things other people found repulsive, like the smell of a deer scrape, diesel exhaust at the last stop before going home. I even liked the smell of compost. Ate Mom’s gizzards and gravy like it was the fanciest meal on the planet.
“Could you love me even with these badges?” I didn’t like that question though it kept niggling around inside me. Set about devising a plan. Slow and easy, I’d ask Reggie if we could date, do things together. I only knew his recent history, less than he knew about me.
That’s what I’d propose. If anything happened I could back out quick.
* * *
Went home, head filled with thoughts. Seemed the world was in a conspiracy to steal my private time, here comes Reggie with dinner and a pocket full of buds. Together we hoed and worked the garden, he enjoyed gardening, wanted to plant endive, arugula, foreign food among my tomatoes and squash. I gave him a few feet on the end of the rows.
Reggie musta had something serious on his mind. He put on a pot of tea as I dished our dinner—salad and broiled chicken again. We ate on the porch aside a kerosene lantern, cool evening, birds’ songs filled the air behind the mosquitos’ hum. Reggie had his rasta-tea, and I grabbed the flashlight after he finished. We walked through the silent flickers of fireflies toward the stream, “Reggie, I have a plan.”
“You don’t like my hips, do you? You think my butt’s too big, right?” Rasta was speaking.
“Hips are fine, and your butt’s flat, no problem there. Reggie, you know I haven’t had a chance to get to know you. Have to find out if we can be friends before anything else.”
“We’re not friends now?”
“We need to get to know each other better. I’ve been burned before. I can’t make love happen. You see.…”
Stopped by my phone, I pulled it out. Mom texted me a photo. Two boys, about seven and eight years old. “Sis is back, these are Cooper’s step-brothers. See you tomorrow night for dinner.”
Showed Reggie. He bypassed me and called Mom, asking all about them. Sis had been in Bounty, Saskatchewan in a religious cult, had enough of it and left with her children. “She’s clean, looks great. I didn’t think we’d ever see her again.” Mom started crying.
Another photo came, Dad had both boys on his lap. “Reggie, you better be here too! Love, Mom.”
So much for laying out my plan.
* * *
“Flair for entertaining,” that’s what Reggie called it. I went to bed as Reggie ran back to the big house and started his preparations. Next day I was told to bring several bags of ice, he texted a grocery list. Ice cream wasn’t on his diet, but I brought home half a gallon, straws and juice boxes. Reggie rearranged Mom’s dinner to our big house in the woods. Sure, I pitched in and helped, I hadn’t seen Sis in years, and now with two boys—Enok and Eli.
Big dinner, huge—music, candles, glittery garlands hung on the railing outside. Mom and Reggie laid it out as cars and trucks pulled in the drive. Glen and Everett brought watermelon. Bright pink heart-shaped cake sat on the counter after Dad and Sis, her two boys came in. Right behind them, Reggie’s parents. We were ready to celebrate.
I was relegated to watching boys and keeping the iced tea glasses refilled. Had to sniff—was that a hint of rasta under the spices? Kept refilling while everyone talked, music played, citronella scented the air.
Still felt unsettled about Reggie, and took Dad aside, “Reggie asked me if I could love him. How do I answer a question like that?”
“What’s going on, you don’t know if you like him? You two seem like good friends.” He turned to the side and leaned close. “You’re acting like you’ve got years to mull it over, but check the calendar, boy. How old are you now?” He told me that love doesn’t happen in a flash, it starts small, grows. “I like him. Reggie’s a good man, they don’t come along often.”
* * *
Before it got dark, I took Eli and Enok to the stream. I was thinking seriously while the boy’s played, skipped stones. Came back to the house and in front of everyone on the deck, I grabbed my sister, kissed her and danced a few steps to the music. “We missed you. Amazing gift you gave us, Cooper. Now coming home with two more boys to love. Thank you.”
Then I stepped to Reggie, took him in my arms and danced a few steps with him and kissed him right on his thin lips. “You’re a gift I didn’t recognize. Another amazing gift to love.”
* * *
“Could you love me?” Not the right question.
Real question was, did I have the courage to turn away from all the images glowing from my hook-up app? Only manipulated images, disguised disappointments. Did I have the courage to love a man who would fully out me from my own half-hiding?
It wasn’t Monte watching over me, protecting me during my lonely years, frightening times, but Reggie.
In his way, he’d built a home around me, a place where he cared for me. Big Sheriff Reggie listening to the scanner, driving out in the middle of the night, bringing opportunities to be closer, protecting his secret, waiting in his own fears and loneliness.
Gave up an easy life to make a hundred-eighty-degree to reveal a real, loving, kinda goofy, but a good man – a proud queer man. Not an easy place to come out, but he had opened the closet door and stepped through for me.
Then, he opened the door to that home in his heart, the home he’d built around me when he asked me if I could love him.
A home within a home.
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