Inspirational music:
1969
- “For What Its Worth” by Buffalo Springfield, (For What Is Worth single, 1966, Vinyl, Atco Records)
- “Bad Moon Rising” by Credence Clearwater Revival, (Green River, 1969, Vinyl, Fantasy)
- “Backlash Blues” by Nina Simone, (Nina Simone Sings the Blues, 1967, Vinyl, RCA Victor)
- “Blowin’ in the Wind” by Bob Dylan, (The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, 1963, Vinyl, Columbia)
- “The End” by The Doors, (The Doors, 1967, Vinyl, Elektra)
- “Eve of Destruction” by Barry McGuire, (Eve of Destruction, 1965, Vinyl, Dunhill/RCA)
- “Time of the Season” by The Zombies, (Odessey and Oracle, 1968, Vinyl, CBS)
1992
- “Strangelove” by Depeche Mode, (Music for the Masses, 1987, CD, Mute)
- “Deeper and Deeper” by Madonna, (Erotica, 1992, CD, Maverick/Sire/Warner Bros.)
- “Back to Life” by Soul II Soul, (Club Classic Vol. One, 1989, CD, Virgin)
- “Unfinished Sympathy” by Massive (Massive Attack), (Blue Lines, 1991, CD, Wild Bunch/Virgin)
- “What is Love” by Deee-Lite, (World Clique, 1990, CD, Elektra)
Tear gas explodes in the street and everyone covers their faces as they push forward. Dogs bark, seemingly from all sides, mixing with the crowd’s chants of ‘Make love, not war’, ‘One, two, three, four! We don’t want your fucking war!’, “Hell no, we won’t go’. There are skirmishes, police using batons and fist and shields. Some protesters fight back, only to be dragged away bleeding.
Thomas is pumping his fist in the air, chanting in time with the others around him. He moves through the teargas, feeling it burn his eyes. He runs, faster and faster, headlong into the crowd, where protesters are pushing against the police barricading the street, trying to stop their progress. He lunges forward, and feels a kick, a punch, then the strike of a baton on his back. He’s on the ground, feet all around him. There is pushing and shoving and so many voices yelling and screaming, he can’t hear his own. He gets stepped on, a kick in the face and he rocks to his back and rolls, his instincts for seeking shelter overpowering. He comes to the curb where he lies in litter and what at first, he thought was water but it’s too thick, too sticky and when he holds up a hand, his fingers are red.
The crowd moves up the street and he is suddenly no longer in it, just one man lying in the gutter, and he rolls to his knees and looks around at the others. The street is littered with protesters, most trying to get to their feet, but far too many laying still. It’s as if the war has come to their own streets. An enemy has arisen from within, powerful, well equipped, a parasite that feeds on their fears, their anguish. Their desperate pleas for something better than going to a faraway place to become just another number: missing or dead.
Sirens. Dogs barking. Paddy wagons with their blue lights flashing. Policemen with batons. More teargas.
Thomas gets to his feet and runs to an alley, wondering if he can get around them, work his way up along the next street and cut back over and join his friends. There was ten of them from college who had drove into the city for the protest. Friends from all walks of life, men and women, all appalled at the warring nature of their country. Thomas stumbles down the alley, tripping over boxes and strewn garbage. He sees two women comforting each other, huddled behind a dumpster. He sees more detail about them than seems possible. The cut forehead, the scrapped elbows, and torn clothes. He sees the bruises already forming on thin arms. And tears trickling down cheeks.
He continues deeper into the alley, wondering if he should have come. Why had he come? But he knew. Carl had come. The leader of their little group. The one who read obscure poetry and ranted against the military industrial complex when most didn’t even know what that meant. The boy who was tall and skinny, with long blonde hair and long sideburns and jeans so tight they left nothing to the imagination. And it was like honey in the trap. Thomas looked at Carl with a lust and desire he was afraid to admit. He knew there were guys who messed around with other guys, their inhibitions lowered by drugs and drink, but he was still too scared to act on his feelings. He didn’t understand this aspect of himself, this deviant nature that wanted the same sex. That wanted Carl. It weakened him, made him pliable to Carl’s manifestoes, the rallying of the gang to attend sit ins and protests on campus. Until Carl took them to the next level, joining the larger protests in the city. He believed in the cause, the need to end a war that made no sense and regretted nothing. But he wondered about his other motivation, the desire to please Carl. To do what he asked, knowing he would do much more if Carl was only willing. Running down the alley, all he could think about was getting back to him.
There were other guys in the group, some just as attractive, but it was Carl that captured his attention. The one he had an infatuation that at times felt like some silly schoolgirl crush. Maybe it was the fact Carl was the leader, the one that engaged him in conversation, and the others were like him, the foot soldiers in their protests and the audience to Carl’s speeches delivered in cafeterias or the soda shop or the Commons on campus. Mike, Jerry and Kevin were always there too. Just as loud, just as defiant to the establishment, as Carl liked to call it. They were each different and in their own way, attractive. But they had girlfriends. There was also Edward, but he was so quiet, so introverted. Even after a year together at the university and in their protests, Thomas still felt as if he barely knew him. Edward was always on the periphery, one that followed wherever they went, but never led. Thomas found him attractive with his thick, wavy black hair, dark brown eyes, and tall lanky body. But it was the way he dressed, so simple compared to the others, usually just a white t-shirt and tight jeans that accentuated his body, that was the biggest attraction for Thomas. But he was enamored with Carl and Edward was someone he couldn’t get a read on.
The alley comes to a small open area between the buildings. It’s narrow, so narrow only the noon day sun can penetrate its depths. It’s late afternoon, so the place is in deep shadow. Standing in the middle of it, Thomas looks around, wondering about the best route out. The alley to his right, by the dumpster, or the one to his left, the one that is narrower, darker, a place he could get trapped in. But there is a sense it is the best path, the one to take. It will be more concealing. He merely needs to stand against the wall and in the dark shadows should someone look within it.
There are boxes strewn along the alley and he braces against the walls as he hops over them. He can easily put each hand on the opposing walls, and it speeds his pace, allows him to clear the obstacles in his path.
The alley only looks a hundred feet long, but the sidewalk and street beyond seem to pull away. He seems to not be making much headway. He has to stop to catch his breath and with hands on knees he bends over panting for breath. Suddenly, he realizes it is quiet. Too quiet. There are no sirens, barking or yelling by protesters. There aren’t even the sounds of the city from the street ahead. Even the air feels different. Unnaturally still.
Thomas stands and looks behind him, then back toward the sidewalk ahead. There is no movement of any kind. No cars or pedestrians ahead. He hears his racing heart and panting for breath. Then he hears something else. A regular beat. Deeper than he has heard before. Its rate is different, but familiar in some primitive way. He looks around wondering where this sound was coming from. It grew a bit louder and he knew it was a song, with female vocals. It seemed to affect him. To make his heart continue racing in his chest. It was coming from his left and he looked at a metal door and knew it was coming from the other side. The black door had odd images painted on it. A red raven hovering over a handprint and he put his hand on it, feeling the heat of the metal radiating into his hand. And he felt the vibration. The physicality of the beat of the music, making it real. Something he could feel.
The door swung open and the music grew in volume, so loud Thomas wondered if it could be heard out on the streets. The beat reverberated through his body. He was drawn to it. He felt it. It seemed sexual, something to make a body respond. He imagined laying naked with another; bodies intertwined in sweaty movements. He felt it, a heat in his chest. His tight jeans seemed more confining. He’d heard songs about sex, with their suggestive lyrics, but this was different. This felt sexual.
He stepped into the dark room, walking in, to a point the faint light from the alley stopped, the shape of the door opening spread out on the floor in a distorted, angled form. He stood at its edge wondering if he should back out. But he wanted to stay and took another step. The door slammed shut, leaving him in darkness. At first Thomas thought it total, pure blackness where nothing could be seen. But his eyes adjusted, and a dim colored light became visible, some square of light that was blue, then red, then white. It seemed to be pulsing with the music, and like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to it. So, he walked slowly, carefully, toward it.
The space he moved through felt like a corridor, but he couldn’t be sure. The darkness around him gave sense to walls and ceiling, whether they were real or imagined. As he moved toward the changing light the sound grew louder. He was thirty feet away, then twenty, then ten and the sound suddenly seemed more real. It was louder, and he could feel the pulsing beat against his chest as he went within its space. He moved through the square of light into a larger room and knew immediately it was some sort of club. The room was packed, and the sound seemed a part of the space, a component of the very air. He moved out into the crowd and immediately noticed the modes of dress. Looser fitting, some layered in different fabrics, but despite it all, the clothing seemed more revealing. Shirts of netting or fabric so shear nothing beneath was hidden. And there was more exposed flesh, black jackets with no shirts underneath or women in black bras and leather skirts. Thomas sensed the sexual nature of it: the music, the dress, the expressions. He moved to the bar and watched wads of cash handed over for drinks, or plastic cards, or a name thrown out to the bartender, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. A screen was on a wall and there were scenes unfolding that shocked him. Men in sadomasochistic clothing with chains and handcuffs and piercings that shocked Thomas. There was a scene of a naked woman walking into someone’s front yard, then a scene of a restaurant kitchen, a woman and chef sitting in stark profile under a huge exhaust hood.
Someone bumped into Thomas and he lost focus on the screen and turned to a guy moving past him, shirtless, sweating profusely, wearing white shorts. The guy smiled at him and he was shocked to see earrings in both ears and a tattoo down one bicep.
“Sorry,” said the guy, smiling mischievously before turning and continuing on his way.
Thomas realized the guy came from where the music was loudest and he headed that way, hearing one song fade as another grew louder. The lights were spinning and flashing, and he had never heard such a deep bass. It seemed to vibrate his very bones. He even felt it in the air. A shock wave of sound, rhythmic in its beat. Working through the crowd of patrons until he was at the edge of the dance floor he froze, shocked at what was before him. Exposed flesh, sweaty, flush in the flashing lights. There were guys dancing with women as expected, but he was surprised so many were just dancing by themselves. And he was shocked to see same sex couples, dancing like the others, and some dancing in an intimate manner that was so openly sexual.
Thomas stared at the sight before him so confused, no one thought would take hold. The music was different, songs he had never heard before and the way they sounded, the purity of each note, the range of tone. Then there was the way everyone was dressed. Attire that appeared as costumes for some, and for others, it was loose or tight clothing that revealed much about the body underneath.
“Hey, I’m Seth,” came a voice to Thomas’ right.
‘Seth?’ Thomas thought as he turned to face the source of the husky, deep male voice that drew his attention. He looked up at a tall, lean guy who appeared so much younger than he expected. Seth had black hair cut really short on the sides, but so long on top it hung over the forehead, concealing one eye. Then there was the face, with its high cheek bones, and heart shape, tapering down to the chin. Hoop earrings in each ear and in the right one, a bar through the upper part of it. Thin lips curved into a smile, creating dimples in each cheek. Thomas felt his heart race, his sexuality making him feel an attraction that scared him. Looking down there was a black jacket, one that looked like a diner jacket, and it hung open revealing a black mesh top. The pale white skin of the torso seemed to glow in the strobing and flashing lights. Looking down further, he saw the black pants that were tight around the narrow waist but full down the legs, until at the knee they tampered to the ankles where it was too dark to see the shoes, which appeared to be black boots.
“I like this retro look,” said Seth as he leaned over close.
“Retro?” Thomas stammered as he looked down at his clothes. A blue denim shirt, and stripped jeans with legs flared out wide over military boots.
“I don’t know your preference, but would you dance with me?” asked Seth.
Thomas was shocked at the blatant way Seth just asked, as if it were no big deal. He looked over to the dance floor and saw so many guys dancing together and thought of the underground gay clubs he had heard about and knew this had to be one of them. But there was something unusual about it. He couldn’t put his finger on it, too distracted by the openness of everyone and how he found himself among them. Looking back to Seth, he felt his sexual attraction, this tall lean guy had come up to him and wanted to dance with him.
“Do you know there is a protest outside?” asked Thomas, wondering how there could be such a disconnect between this club and the world outside.
“A protest? What is it this time? Abortion? Or is it our policies in the middle east? No, wait, let me guess; it’s about gay rights.”
“What? No, it’s the war.”
“Iraq?”
“No, Vietnam,” Thomas replied but as he said it a loud explosion of sound came from the speakers and lights flashed so brightly it blinded everyone for a few seconds.
“We’re always fucking around where we don’t belong. So, will you dance?”
“I…yes,” Thomas replied and for a moment he allowed himself to be caught up in the moment, to let what was happening outside remain outside; to let it be forgotten, if only for a few minutes. Instead, he acted with his heart. Seth took him by the hand to lead him to the dance floor, and the gesture, such a simple human contact made his heart race.
Thomas realizes some of the dance moves were familiar, but not near enough to prevent him from feeling self-conscious. But the crowded dance floor gave him some sense of cover from being noticed, especially while dancing with Seth. Seth moved behind him, up close, bodies touching. Thomas had never been with another guy, never experienced the sexual nature that can exist between them. But with Seth behind him, he feels it. The lure of it. The sexuality. It feels right. A part of him feels free, as if released from a prison. He moves back, feeling Seth against his back, ass, his neck, where lips touch it. It’s a forbidden fruit.
Thomas dances until he is sweating, his long hair hanging wet around his head. He’s unbuttoned his shirt revealing his lean torso, not embarrassed to do so, with so many others already bare from the waist up. So many other guys who are not perfect, and some who are. How long has it been since Seth led him to the dance floor? He’s not sure. But his body feels loose, the muscles stretched to the point his limbs move easily and his stamina seems infinite.
The shirt slides from Thomas’ shoulders and he feels the hot air against his skin. He feels Seth against his back, with hips moving against his ass. He’s half erect and knows it wouldn’t take much to make him rock hard. He turns within Seth’s outstretched arms and sees the jacket is gone, only the mesh top remaining. It conceals nothing. The flash of metal through the nipples. The tattoo on the right shoulder. Is it a dragon? A flash of light. No, it’s a white horse, with wings.
Pegasus
Thomas moves closer to Seth and he wonders who is this person? How can he be so open? Another glance around the dance floor, and he wonders where he has found himself. It seems surreal. Nowhere he has heard about is this free. Nowhere is there a club so diverse. A man and woman kiss, then giggle at each other. A woman leads another woman off the dance floor, and her look back says much about their relationship.
Arms come around Thomas’ waist and the heat of Seth’s body is against his back.
“Will you come home with me?” asked Seth. It’s a whisper, something that should be impossible in this place.
It is happening too fast. But not fast enough, either.
“Yes,” Thomas replies, looking down, unable to look at Seth with such a confession.
“Let’s go.” Seth takes Thomas by the hand and leads him to the edge of the dance floor. A speaker, four feet high sits at the edge of the dance floor, and on top, jackets, shirts and other garments too tangled up to identify. Seth slips the black jacket and denim shirt from the pile and pulls Thomas to follow.
Everything is different. The cars look odd, none of them recognizable. And the buildings, the way they light up the night, look different as well. A few storefronts are familiar but there are others that are not as he remembers them. Is the city too large to remember all the streets? Has it always been like this and he just didn’t notice? It’s late, some early hour time after midnight: nighttime on the street. The sidewalks are crowded, and the people all look different. But he struggles to keep up with Seth’s long gait, therefore no time to dwell on his surroundings.
Tomorrow will be better, once the sun is up. Then he can figure out where he is at, he tells himself, as he follows Seth up steps into an apartment building. They go up an elevator, and he stares at the lighted panels reading off the floors. Down a corridor and into Seth’s apartment, Thomas finds himself standing in the middle of the room. There is a large rectangle with a black glass centered in its front, in the living room and he knows it is some kind of television he has never seen before. On a desk at one side of the room he sees what he knows is a computer, but it is so small. The computers he has seen in magazines fill rooms and this one is tiny, the box smaller than some stereo equipment. But there is a keyboard and a television all wired together. He wonders if Seth is rich or working in some research company. He turns to see him coming from the open kitchen, drinks in each hand.
“Here ya go. A little nightcap,” says Seth as he holds one out to Thomas.
It is almost ritualistic, the way they drink while keeping eyes locked together. With empty glasses set down, Seth leads Thomas to his bedroom. Standing by the bed, Seth pulls the mesh top off while Thomas watches. The lean body has more definition than he realized, and he wants to reach out and touch it. But he stands still as Seth unbuttons the pants, tugs the zipper down then works them off, pulling shoes off to get the legs free. There is this brief moment when Seth stands before him, in white briefs like none he had ever seen before. They are tight but instead of a bikini cut, they have legs, like boxers. The white fabric clings to Seth’s body, revealing everything beneath and Thomas looked, letting his lust build, this desire for a man. Seth slipped fingers underneath the waistband and Thomas watched as he bent over, working the briefs down each leg and off. When Seth stood, tossing the briefs to the side, Thomas saw the half hard cock, the thickness of it, wondering what it would feel like in his hand.
With eyes roaming upward, Thomas finally found himself looking into Seth’s eyes. He saw the curious smile behind them, then their approach until fingers were tugging on his pants. Buttons pulled loose and his pants loosened around his waist. Fingers dug into the front of his briefs, toying with his growing erection, until the clothing felt stifling, confining in a way that was unendurable. He had to be shed of them and he pushed down on the pants and briefs feeling them slide down his legs.
Seth went to his knees and Thomas felt a hand guide him to lift one foot, then the other and soon he was naked, free, his body his own for the first time. He felt hands rub up each leg. Hot exhales of breath against his skin by his cock. The feel of tongue on the tightening sac, then a slow drag along the length of his elongating cock. He shuddered to feel another man touch him. His cock flexed against the face pressed down next to it. It is engulfed in a warm wetness that makes him whimper and he looks down to see only a little of the base of his cock, the rest in Seth’s mouth.
Struggling to stand, Thomas braces himself by holding onto Seth. His fingers dig into the firm flesh of each shoulder as the mouth moves on his cock. He can barely stand, and moans louder than he intended. He angled his head back with eyes closed, savoring the feel of it. Then the mouth releases his cock and a hand comes to the back of his neck, fingers combing through his long hair. They close and tug his head back as lips touch his neck. He moans again and pushes his body forward until it is pressed against Seth. He feels alive, every touch arousing. Their contact is warm, and Seth feels smooth against his skin and he moves against him to increase the sensations of touch. His cock flexes hard and another cock presses into his stomach, and he wants it. He wants that cock in ways that scare him, make him frightened at what it might feel like to be penetrated. But he wants it.
“Fuck me,” Thomas whispers, and he hears the fear in his voice, but Seth doesn’t seem to notice. Or doesn’t care. He finds a hand is on his chest, pushing gently, persistently, until the bed hits the back of his legs and he goes down.
Thomas is on his back and Seth holds each ankle while folding him over. He feels his body take this new position. His ass lifts from the bed and he feels how he is so exposed to Seth. It seems like they just got on the bed, but he knows that isn’t true. There had been long kisses, then lips moving over his body until once again his cock was engulfed in the warm slickness of Seth’s mouth. There had been the touches, fingers toying with his cock, tugging on his tightening sac, then moving down further until raking over his opening. The touches became persistent, until a finger bore through his tightness.
Seth opened him up, stretched his hole open until three fingers moved easily inside him. Now he watched as Seth moved up closer, pushing down thick cock, aiming it at his opening. He felt the flared head touch it, then rub wetly up and down. Once again, his fears surfaced, wondering if he could take Seth’s cock. But he wanted it, and pushing down those fears, he reached around his ass and took the thick cock. It filled his hand, fingers not able to touch, and he guided it to his opening.
“Fuck me,” Thomas uttered.
Seth pushed against his tightness, and for a few seconds he wondered if he could take it. Head thrown back, eyes closed, he relaxed, pushing his ass against Seth and felt his first penetration by a man’s cock. He shuddered at the pain of entry, but took it, let Seth ease into him. He felt the penetration, the deception of how deep it felt, as if Seth were boring into the very center of his body. There was the fullness of it, the way it connected them. Seth moaned, then began to work his hips, to do a slow fuck. Thomas felt the tug at his tight opening, then another push inward, over and over, until Seth’s pace increased.
Breathing hard, clutching at the bed, Thomas never could imagine how it would feel. Now he knew. And he wanted it. He wanted Seth to fuck harder, faster. He wanted to feel cock push into his body deeper. Hips began to smack against his ass, and he rocked with each impact as Seth hammered cock into his depths.
“Fuck,” Thomas cried out as Seth increased his pace. Hips bumped roughly against his ass. The rhythm of it primitive, lurid, with its penetration. Seth’s pace kept increasing until Thomas only felt the cock thrusting inside his hole.
The bed began to squeak, then rock with their fuck. Thomas grew more vocal, crying out then begging Seth to fuck him harder. Faster. He took his own cock in hand, increasing his own pleasure. He grew so aroused he began to work his ass, to push upward as Seth slammed down into his hole. The sound of their bodies smacking together echoed in the room.
Thomas came first, spewing cum over his face and chest. It pooled on his chest and trickled around his face and across his lips. Seth moved down and kissed him, sharing it between their mouths. Then Seth groaned into his mouth while slamming down against his ass. Hips jammed against him, he knew Seth was pumping cum into his hole.
Suddenly Seth pulled out and grabbed him by the legs. He flipped over and let Seth roughly get him on his knees. Cock bore back into his hole as hands held his hips. Seth was still horny and proceeded to fuck him again. There was no slow, gentle beginning. Seth hammered cock into his depths and his own cock hardened as it flopped back and forth between his thighs.
Seth fucked with a furious pace until sweat trickled down his chest and around his face. He was heaving for breath and muscled burned with his exertion. Then he slowed, pushed cock into Thomas slowly, letting him be aware of every inch. And Thomas took it, every inch as his own cock was so hard it was leaking. It drooled from the slit.
Seth fucked slowly for so long it was painful, the way it kept his cock right at the edge of release. Then he leaned over Thomas and bear hugged him, one arm tight around the neck, and he rose, bringing Thomas to his knees. With Thomas pulled back, hips pushed out, hard cock angled up, Seth began to fuck, to drive into his hole with renewed enthusiasm. Hips smacked against ass, rocking Thomas forward. Seth reached around the slick, wet torso and ran a hand down it while maintaining his hold around Thomas’ neck.
Thomas shuddered with Seth’s thrusts into his hole and he shivered and moaned with the tight hold around his neck and the hand that raked down his sweating chest until it was toying with his cock. Fingers closed around it and he worked his hips back and forth. A push back on Seth’s cock, and the push forward, thrusting his cock through the tight fist.
“Fuck…come for me. Shoot…shoot, you son of a bitch,” Seth uttered in Thomas’ ear.
Thomas moved faster, pushing for release. The bed rocked beneath them as he pushed his pleasure to the breaking point. He shuddered and cried out, then jerked with each ejaculation as he sprayed cum over Seth’s bed.
“Fuck…fuck…I feel you,” Seth uttered. He fucked harder, faster, roughly pushing all the way into Thomas’ depths. “I’m coming,” he exclaimed as he jerked with his own release.
* * * *
Thomas rolled over and opened his eyes. For a minute he was confused, then he looked over at Seth lying next to him. With the cover pushed down, Seth was exposed down to his thighs and Thomas looked at the curve of ass and the long back. He remembered their sex, then thought of the events that led to him to this place, to Seth’s apartment, in his bed, and the aspects that seemed out of place troubled him. He eased out of bed and tugged on his clothes, for he needed to head home and find out if anyone was hurt during the crack down on the protest. In the living room he went to the window and pulled open the curtains and stood stunned, for the skyline was all wrong, with buildings he had never seen before. He stepped back wondering if he was still asleep and in some dream state. He bumped the edge of the coffee table and looked down to see magazines spread over it. They were men’s magazines, one title he recognized, but none of the others. The magazines on top were for gay men and curiosity caused him to pick it up and thumb through it. He was shocked at the openness portrayed within. He looked back at the cover, wondering why he had never seen it before. He scanned the headings and the picture of an attractive guy in gym shorts showing off his muscular body. Then his hands began to tremble, and he struggled to breathe.
“No…this is wrong,” he whispered as he looked at the date of the magazine: August 1992.
He bent down and fanned out the other magazines. They were for the months of June and July, all for the year 1992. He wondered what kind of joke these magazines were for he knew it to be September 1969.
On the verge of hyperventilating, he stumbled back. He heard Seth stirring in the bedroom, finally waking up, and he suddenly felt a need to get out of the apartment, away from Seth and these magazines. He ran to the door and as he pulled it open and raced out, he heard Seth call out to him.
On the sidewalk, Thomas stumbled and tripped as his eyes were constantly drawn to everything that was different, something that spoke to the unfamiliarity of the place. He began to run, crossing streets familiar in name only, until he was at the street where he had been part of a protest. It looked normal, no evidence of any protest from the day before. Instead it was crowded with pedestrians and traffic. He stumbled back, bumping into a woman.
“Hey, watch it, asshole.”
Thomas looked at her with confusion and he knew how he must look. A crazy man. He ran down the street until he couldn’t stand to among the pedestrians and all the things that were wrong. He turned down an alley.
It was narrow, dark in the center, made worse by the brightness at the other end where it came out on the next street. He tried to run through it, but the debris tripped him up and halfway down it, he fell. It felt as if he fell for a long time. The ground further below than what was possible. But he eventually came down, hard, and he rolled over against the wall among some boxes. He hit it headfirst and blacked out.
* * * *
“Thomas. Thomas, wake up.”
Thomas eased his eyes open and saw it was darker than he expected. Looking up, his noticed the sky was dark and there was the lingering scent of teargas. Then everything closer to him came into focus, the two faces looking down at him with concern.
“Are you hurt?” asked Sarah.
“What happened?” asked Edward.
Thomas looked at the two of them, and saw the concern in their expressions, none more so than in Edward’s face. He eased up into a sitting position and realized there were no boxes around him, just some empty bottles and small trash.
“What happened…is everyone okay…what about Carl and the others?” Thomas stammered.
“Everyone is fine. The police took Kevin and Rachel into custody, but they are out now,” replied Sarah.
“Everyone is fine,” Edward repeated, “but what happened to you. I swear I looked down this alley already.”
“I…don’t know.”
“Well, come on, let me help you up,” said Edward as he put an arm around Thomas and helped him to his feet. “You scared me…us.”
Thomas caught the slip, and he suddenly saw it, the concern on Edward’s face.
“I’m okay, really. I’m okay,” Thomas protested, but he let Edward help him to his feet. He was so elated to be back in reality, to not be stuck in some alternate realm that had to be in his head, that he didn’t feel the pain from the knot on his head. “Thanks Edward,” when on his feet and he saw the sheepishness return, how Edward looked down while stepping back.
“We’re meeting back on campus,” said Sarah. “Did you drive or ride with someone?”
“I rode with Carl.”
“He’s back on campus, so come on, we’ll give you a ride.”
Sarah’s Beetle was so small, Thomas felt crammed in, even though Edward let him sit up front. He couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable Edward must be in the back seat and he turned to see him sitting sideways, left leg on the seat and the right stretched out to the opposite footwell.
“Did you guys get caught up in the police pushing back?” Thomas asked, looking over at Sarah, then back toward Edward.
“I didn’t, but it was because they went after Rachel instead of me,” said Sarah.
“I saw Carl and Jerry get knocked down, then people were pushing us back as they tried to get away from the police. I found myself pushed back, and knocked on the ground,” said Edward.
“You get hurt?” asked Thomas.
“He got stepped on,” Sarah replied. “Go on, show him the bruises.”
Thomas looked around and saw Edward raise his t-shirt, slowly, shyly, until his stomach and part of his chest was exposed, revealing a few bruises that were getting darker.
“Jesus, Edward, those look bad. That has to hurt,” said Thomas.
“Yeah…it does,” Edward replied, lowering his shirt.
Thomas turned back around and let the image of the raised shirt play over in his mind. The smooth fair skin, the definition of enough muscle to reveal the masculine nature of the body. Even with the ugly bruises, he considered the beauty of Edward’s body. Then he remembered the look of concern from earlier and felt foolish about it, for it was Edward who was hurt the most.
“Edward, I think you should go to the infirmary and get checked out. You could have a cracked rib or something.”
“No, I’m good. It’s just bruising.”
“How do you know? It could be…”
“I’ve had cracked ribs before. I feel down a ladder in the barn when I was fifteen.”
“Barn?” asked Thomas.
“I grew up on a farm.”
“Kansas? What do you think people do there?” asked Sarah, looking at Thomas, then a quick glance back at Edward.
“I didn’t consider it,” Thomas admitted.
“You’re the daydreamer,” Sarah uttered, as she got on the freeway that led to the campus.
“What?”
Edward giggled and Sarah shook her head.
“You’re the daydreamer in the group; the one who is in his own world half the time,” said Sarah.
Thomas considered all the times Carl or one of the others were trying to get his attention when he had been daydreaming about Carl and what it might be like to do something with him. He saw it from the other’s point of view, how he must have appeared to them.
“Okay, I admit I let myself think too much about other things.”
“What do you think about?” asked Edward.
“Sex?” asked Sarah, looking over with a mischievous grin.
“What? No!”
“Edward, listen to that protest. I think he’s guilty of thinking about sex. I know he’s not getting any,” said Sarah.
“How can you say that? What are you implying?” Thomas protested.
“None of the girls have been able to get your attention. It’s like you don’t even see them,” replied Sarah.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thomas replied in rebuff, turning to look out the side window.
“Okay,” said Sarah, and Thomas didn’t see her look at Edward and the two of them share a grin.
Sarah drove around campus to the north side where older apartments for students lined the road facing the campus. She drove down to the Hillcrest complex, which looked more like a motel than apartments.
“Which unit are you; I can never remember,” asked Sarah, as she turned into the parking lot that sat in the middle of the U-shaped complex.
“It’s the third building on the right. I’m on the second floor; number 24,” replied Edward.
“Thomas, can you help him up to his room? I need to get back on campus,” asked Sarah.
“Yes…sure.”
“I don’t need any…”
“Edward, you can barely walk without grimacing,” said Sarah.
“Edward, I can help you up. My dorm is in the Commons complex,” Thomas replied, referring to the old dorms they passed a couple of blocks back.
“Okay,” Edward replied, his voice lower, almost timid sounding.
As Sarah pulled away, Thomas put his arm gently around Edward and helped him to the stair that led up to the balcony. The balcony ran the length of the building, giving access to each small apartment.
It was obvious Edward was in more pain that he let on, for he had stiffened up after sitting in the car and grunted with every move for the first few steps. Slowly, one step at a time, Thomas helped him climb up to the second level, then down the balcony until they were at unit 24. Edward fumbled for his keys, wincing with every move, until he had them out. He tried to shift through the keys, but dropped them instead.
“Let me,” said Thomas, bending over to pick them up. He flipped through the keys looking for one that look appropriate.
“It’s the brass one…yeah that one,” said Edward.
Thomas pushed the door open and followed Edward inside. It was a studio layout, with a small kitchenette at the front door, then one long room. A sitting area up front with a small worn sofa, a desk at the front window and a black and white television on a crate at the side wall. Behind the sofa was a bed with a round table for a nightstand and a small chest of drawers on the back wall. Thomas knew the layout, for he had been in a similar apartment of another friend. The first door behind the kitchenette would be a closet and the one in back to the small bathroom. Nothing about the old apartment and its worn furniture captured his attention. What did capture it was the posters on the wall. Some he had seen before, but most were new to him. Posters against the war, for civil rights, and with themes of peace, love, and solidarity. There was a stark white one with black block style lettering: “I AM A MAN”, and Thomas knew the reference but couldn’t help but wonder if it meant something different for Edward. Over the bed were two music posters and further down a couple of posters in French and Spanish and he wondered where Edward got them. But it was the poster over the television that drew his attention. It was a poster of Saint Sebastian as depicted by some painter of a bygone era. Thomas didn’t know the artist, but he recognized the image with the attractive male, a loincloth barely hanging around the hips and a single arrow piercing the chest. He knew what it meant for some guys, those desperately seeking a role model, some icon that speaks to them, and he wondered if this was the case for Edward.
“You’ve got some great posters,” said Thomas as he watched Edward go to his bed and ease down on it. “Can I get you something?”
“Aspirin?”
“Where do you keep it, or do I need to go get some?”
“In the bathroom; the medicine cabinet.”
With a glass of water and two aspirin in hand, Thomas stood by Edward’s bed, waiting on him to sit up. Edward winced and grimaced but eventually was upright, leaning against the wall. Thomas watched him take the aspirin, then drink half of the water.
“You need anything else?”
“No. I’m just going to sleep,” Edward replied, and it caused Thomas to glance at the clock on the nightstand making him realize how late it had gotten.
Thomas watched Edward try to get settled down, struggling with the pillows and getting slid back down on the bed to where he could lay flat.
“Let me help you,” said Thomas, leaning over to help Edward moved down on the bed. He helped him lift his head and shoulders while moving the pillows. Easing him down on the pillow he suddenly realized how close he was to him. He could see the pupils of the dark brown eyes, and how they were focused on him. The small mole under the right eye, the light stubble of a beard trying to come in along the jaw. The thin lips, the narrow nose, slightly upturned at its end. The slight arc of the eyebrows. The way black hair curled down over the forehead.
“Thomas?” It was a whisper, softly spoken.
Thomas blinked and realized he had hovered over Edward’s face, actually getting closer to him, and he jerked back and stood.
“Sorry…I was…I need to go…”
“Thomas, it’s okay. Thomas?” Edward called out, but Thomas went to the door and left, pulling the door closed behind him.
Thomas was in the library, the fourth floor, in a corner where it was quiet. The dorm had been noisy when he got back last night, and it had been late when he finally got to bed. Sleep still eluded him, and he lay awake, listening to Paul snore lightly as he thought of Edward. As soon as he woke, he went down for another shower, for he thought he could still smell teargas on his skin. Then he went to the cafeteria for a late breakfast, and not wanting to go back to the dorm, he found himself in the library. He had started his assignments, writing an English paper due the next morning, working through calculus, but he had got distracted by a guy that reminded him of Edward roaming in the stacks. Same black hair and nearly the same build. He watched, as the guy moved along the narrow aisle, eyes scanning books until finding the one he was in search. The guy stood straight and opened the book and thumbed through it and Thomas watched him, making comparisons to Edward. The guy looked up catching him staring and Thomas turned back to his open textbook.
He wondered how Edward was doing, realizing he wanted to go see him. Before it had been Carl he had obsessed over, looking for any excuse to be with him. Now he found his thoughts going to Edward. The image of Edward holding up his shirt played over and over, then the shy grin. He glanced at his watch and saw it was nearly one and the pains of hunger grew stronger. He needed lunch and wondered if he should take something to Edward. Looking up, he watched the guy from stacks walk away, ass moving in tight jeans, and he closed his textbook, tied them all together with the leather strap, and headed out.
There was a deli on the corner at Magnolia Hill Drive across from campus, and Thomas went in for two sandwiches. With a bag of potato chips and two sodas to go with the sandwiches, he headed down the street to the Hillcrest.
He had knocked two different times, three raps each time, and began to think Edward was out. He turned to walk away when the door open. Edward stood in the gap, eyes half closed, wearing nothing but his white briefs.
“Thomas?”
“Oh, Edward, was you still asleep? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I was just…”
“Come on in. I needed to get up anyway,” Edward stepped back from the door pulling it open revealing the dark interior. Thomas entered where he saw Edward easing down on the sofa. The bruises were darker, ugly purple and blue mars on his chest and stomach.
“I brought you some lunch. I thought you might not feel like doing anything and…”
“Thanks Thomas. I am hungry.”
Thomas could tell Edward was out of it, so unconcerned with his appearance, when he had been shy about raising his shirt the night before. Thomas handed him a sandwich and soda, then opened the bag of chips sitting them on the sofa. Pulling the desk chair over, he sat close enough to reach the chips and unwrapped his own sandwich as he watched Edward take one slow bite then another. Then he couldn’t stop himself from doing it, scanning the exposed body before him. The flat stomach and chest with enough definition to speak to its masculine nature. Then he looked at the legs, the thighs and calves muscular, thinking how Edward rode a bicycle everywhere on campus and in town. Then he looked down between the legs, at the bulging white briefs, the outline of cock visible through the thin cotton fabric.
The cock flexed in the white briefs and Thomas thought about how it would feel pushing into his body. He wondered how big it would get when erect and if he could take it, knowing there was nothing that would stop him if given the chance.
“Thomas?” asked Edward, with a questioning gaze.
“Huh…oh, sorry, I was just thinking about something.”
“Daydreamer,” Edward uttered, smiling for the first time. “You want to go for a walk? I need to get out and stir around. I’m so stiff, I can barely move.”
“Sure,” Thomas replied, watching Edward ease up off the sofa and walk into the closet.
Edward came out, white dress shirt and jeans, the latter so skin-tight Thomas wondered how he got them on. The bulge went down the right thigh and he found it hard to take his eyes from it.
“Let’s go,” said Edward heading toward the door.
They walked up the street and at Stadium Drive, crossed over to the campus side of the street. Since leaving Edward’s apartment, they had walked in silence, but as they cut into the campus following a sidewalk that went through a men’s dorm complex, Edward finally broke it.
“You really scared us when you disappeared.”
“Sorry, but I don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t get it. I looked down that alley earlier. Where were you?”
“I…”
Thomas fell silent.
“I had thought the police arrested you, but we checked and none of them had any arrest reports on you.”
“Did they arrest a lot of people?”
“They took a lot in, but only a few were formally charged.”
A Frisbee floated in front of them, landing on the grass to the side of the walk. A guy with long hair and shirt unbuttoned ran across and picked it up.
“Hey guys,” the long-haired guy said, giving them a smile.
“Hey,” Edward and Thomas replied in unison.
The Frisbee was tossed back, and the long-haired guy returned to the circle of guys tossing it back and forth. Edward and Thomas continued walking, turning on a walk that would lead toward the greenhouses for botany and horticulture.
“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong…that you are not like other people?” asked Edward, in a low voice.
Thomas glanced over and saw how Edward was avoiding looking his way with eyes cast down.
“All the time,” Thomas confessed.
They walked past buildings and small sitting areas for students, until finally coming to the greenhouses, and they followed the walk as it ran along the two at the edge of the complex. The area was fenced in, so only students in botany and horticulture could get in, but the two greenhouses along the public walk allowed them to see some of the plants being grown. In the first, the plants were small, only a couple of inches tall. They looked so fragile, the tiny plants with their bright green leaves. At the next, the interior was totally different, with plants seeming to fill every available space along the wall, with leaves pressed to the glass. Some of the plants ran up to the roof, as if trying to escape their confinement.
“Did you hear how last spring, they found pot growing in one of the greenhouses?” asked Edward.
“Yeah. The police searched the place looking for more.”
“Good thing they didn’t search the whole campus.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you been behind the art building? There’s a small garden area tucked between it and the music building. It seems the ground crews find it there all the time.”
Thomas laughed, thinking of Kevin, who was an art major and Cindy who was in music, and how either one of them would try something like that.
“Not surprised,” Thomas replied.
They came to a garden area the horticulture department created for the students to enjoy. It was a long narrow plot along the side of one of their buildings that overlooked a small pond.
“Let’s walk in here,” said Edward, turning onto the gravel path that led into the garden.
They were far enough into the garden that the sounds of the campus seemed to fade away. Edward moved to a bench and sat. It was tucked underneath a Japanese Maple and overlooked the pond. Thomas hesitated, then sat next to him. They stared out over the pond, watching two geese swim lazily across it.
“How do you feel different?” asked Edward.
Thomas felt his heart rate increase as his old anxieties flared up. They were always there, but there were times it got worse, making him feel like he could hyperventilate. When an attractive guy approached him, always for the most innocent of reasons, or when he’s in the bathroom and there are guys showering, their naked bodies on full display, or when he is with someone he likes, like now, sitting with Edward. He thinks of that hallucination, that dream where Seth came to him, boldly, without hesitation, and he wished life were that simple. That he could just confess how he felt, admit to his attraction to other guys. To admit to Edward his attraction toward him.
Looking over, Thomas saw Edward was staring at him, waiting on his response. There was a sadness there, one he knew loneliness was a big part. He felt it too, this floating through the world among friends, but always feeling left out in some way. Did it have to be like this? What if he was to be bold, admit to his feelings? What was the worst that could happen, and the scenarios came fast of all the way things could go sideways? But he saw Edward’s expression, that look he had seen in the mirror nearly every morning and night.
“I…like guys,” Thomas replied, his stomach tied in knots at the admission.
“Really?” asked Edward.
Thomas heard the tone of voice. Soft, so low he could barely hear him, and he looked over and saw not what he feared, but something else. Surprise at his bold honesty, and some relaxation not only in expression but in posture. How had he found the courage to say it, to admit something so demonized by society? Was it that hallucination? It had to be a hallucination, for nothing else made sense. But had it shown him the way?
“Really. And it makes me feel alone all the time. Do you know what I mean?” Thomas replied, testing Edward to see if he would admit to the same.
Edward nodded his head, and in a nervous, quivering voice, “Yes.”
Thomas looked around and saw no one was about, that they were the only two in the park that he could see, and he leaned over to Edward and kissed his cheek then whispered in his ear, “I’m glad, for I like you.”
Edward turned but before he did, Thomas saw him smile.
“You want to go head back to my apartment?”
“Yes.”
In Edward’s apartment, there had been a moment of shyness, a hesitancy. They had smiled sheepishly at each other and stammered when trying to talk. It was so obvious they were nervous, that they burst out laughing. Then everything was alright, and Thomas went to Edward and kissed him on the lips.
Edward was sore, stiff in his movements, so Thomas undressed him, slowly, gently, removing each garment with care. He kissed each newly exposed area until he was on his knees and holding an elongating cock. It grew thicker in his grasp and he watched the head flare out wider. Then he kissed it and heard Edward moan. Finally, after holding back for so long, he slipped the head between his lips and pushed forward.
Thomas sucked Edward, worked his lips along the growing cock until it was fully erect. Beneath the smooth skin, he felt the hardness of it, solid like rock, and when he pulled back, only the head still in his mouth, he felt the soft spongy nature of it and how Edward would shiver when he manipulated it with his tongue.
Coming to his feet, Thomas guided Edward to the bed, helping him to lay down on his back. Edward watched him as he removed his clothes, tossing them carelessly on the floor. His own cock was half hard and he stroked it, increasing his arousal, as he moved on the bed. He straddled Edward, moving with care, afraid to even rock the bed. He eased down and worked his ass back and forth over the hard cock, letting it rub over his opening. It increased his arousal and he moved faster, until he felt the wetness from Edward’s leaking cock.
Rising on knees, Thomas reached back and held Edward’s cock up, and with eyes locked on Edward’s, he eased down. The flared head pushed at his tightness, until he stretched open allowing it entry. He shivered at the feel of it, how his body opened to take it. He felt the flared head push into his hole, and he eased down further and further until it was boring into the center of his being. He didn’t stop until sitting on Edward, feeling the warm body beneath his ass and between his thighs.
Hands moved to each thigh, the fingers digging into the firm muscle, and the touch spurned Thomas to move, to begin the ritualistic up and down. He was slow at first, savoring the feel of every inch of cock sliding though this tight opening, and how the fingers dug into his thighs when he eased down. But he couldn’t hold back, the pace far too slow, even for Edward.
“Fuck…Thomas…faster…please. Faster!” Edward exclaimed, as he pushed upward.
Thomas moved faster, his pace increasing until it was a fuck. Real, with all its sensations. The bed rocked and squeaked in rhythm to his movements. He loosened to the penetration and moved faster, up and down until his muscles burned with their exertions. He leaned back, resting on his hands, and moved his ass up and down faster and faster. His own cock flopped against his stomach, so hard it ached for release, leaving the skin wet with every smack against it. A hand moved up his thigh, raked across his abdomen and manipulated his nuts in their sac. Then it slid up and grasped his cock. It stroked him as he worked his ass on the cock buried in his ass.
“Thomas,” Edward uttered, and Thomas felt the push upward, a rough shuddering jam of cock into his depths.
Thomas watched Edward shudder and knew he was coming. He could feel it. The flex of cock inside his hole as it ejaculated wad after wad. He sat up and moved down on the spurting cock. Edward’s hand moved on his cock roughly, no rhythm to his stroking, but it was enough. Thomas being too aroused to hold back, came, spraying Edward across the face and chest with his own load.
Thomas wiped Edward down then settled next to him on the narrow bed. Their breathing returned to normal and the fatigue from their exertions overwhelmed them. Eyes closed and breathing slowed, they drifted off to sleep.
It was dark when Thomas stirred awake. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“You’re up,” said Edward.
Thomas reached out, turning on the lamp on the nightstand. Edward was lying next to him, eyes watching him, and he saw the contentment, something he felt. He saw Edward smile and he smiled back until they were giggling. Edward eased up, grimacing in pain.
“You okay?” asked Thomas.
“Yeah, just still sore is all. You want to go get something to eat? I’m starving.”
“I’m hungry too. Where do you want to go? The cafeteria?”
“No, let’s go to that diner on Fifth Avenue. What’s it called?”
“The Red Leaf?”
“That’s it. My treat, but you have to drive.”
“I can run back to my place and change and come back and pick you up.”
“And in the meantime, I’ll get cleaned up and dressed. It might take me longer than you,” said Edward with a grin.
The diner had been busy, and it was late when Thomas brought Edward back to the apartment. There was a hesitation between them, and they grinned at the silliness of it.
“Will you come up?” asked Edward, finally asking Thomas to do what the two of them wanted.
“Yes,” Thomas whispered, sheepishly, for he was struggling with how much he wanted to be with Edward. It was scary to want to someone so much.
Once inside, only the lamp on the desk turned on, they ended up by the bed once again. And like before, Thomas stripped Edward, slowly, gently, easing each garment off, and like before, he kissed each newly exposed area. Edward was finally naked, and Thomas had his cock, every inch sliding through his lips. It thickened and became rock hard.
He moved to his feet, standing close to Edward and removed his own clothes, feeling fingers touch exposed flesh, rake over sensitive nipples, and drag down the line of hair from his navel down to his hardening cock, where they wrapped around it. He moaned and pushed it through the fingers, then leaned to Edward, kissing him on the lips.
Thomas moved to the bed, got on his knees and elbows, ass at the edge of it, spread open. He wanted to feel Edward inside him. To feel cock bore into his depths. Hands held his waist and cock touched him, rubbed up and down his ass, then pressed against his tightness.
“Fuck,” Edward uttered, as he penetrated Thomas, the head of his cock squeezing through the tight opening. He kept pushing, easing inch after inch into Thomas until his hips pressed against ass. “God…you feel so good,” he whispered, as he held still, cock buried all the way inside of him.
Then Edward began to fuck.
The bed rocked and squeaked in rhythm to Edward’s fuck, and as it got faster, harder, the bed banged into the wall. This fuck was more physical, the original hesitancy and shyness gone, instead each giving into their desires, their needs.
Thomas felt the hands on his waist tighten, as Edward hammered cock into his depths. His own cock flopped between his thighs and he took it in hand, letting his shoulders drop to the bed. He seemed to open up for Edward even more and he stroked his own cock at a furious pace. But it still wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel Edward against his body. To feel a shared heat and the undulation of one against the other. He rose to his knees and reached over his head to touch Edward’s face. He felt sweat trickling down the forehead, then lips touch his fingers, sucking two into the hot wetness of the mouth. The hands on his waist moved up and soon their bodies were pulled together. Skin against skin, the contact hot and wet.
Thomas came, shuddering with release.
Edward came, while jamming cock into Thomas’ depths.
After a cooling shower, Edward eased down on his bed, naked, no longer self-conscious about Thomas seeing him. Thomas didn’t know if he should leave, fighting his own desire to ease down next to him.
“You can stay,” said Edward, as if he could read Thomas’ mind.
Thomas was in the library trying to focus on doing his assignments. He was on the fourth floor, in the corner, where he wouldn’t be disturbed, or let others see him break into a smile or giggle at times for no apparent reason. But as much as he tried, he could not focus on the textbooks spread out before him. Instead he thought of Edward and his confession that opened things up for them. Then he thought of his hallucination, struggling to dismiss it so easily. It had seemed so real, every aspect of it. And there was the fact he had been missing for some time.
He pulled out a binder and took a couple of sheets of paper from it. He told himself it was going to be an exercise, a way of purging the episode from his mind. He picked up his pen and began to write, first the address he had seen on the magazines, then the salutation: Dear Seth:
He wrote of the events of that day, in his time. The protest and the way the police came in to break it up. Then him in the alley, going through the door and coming into the club, one he would later find out was in September 1992, not September 1969. He described his shock at the openness of everyone, the way being gay was not hidden from sight but was on full display, and how Seth’s approach showed him what was possible.
Continuing for a third page, Thomas wrote of their sex, the way it let him come to terms with himself, and when he was back in his own time, September 1969, he was able to act on this new confidence. He put everything in the letter, some in specific terms, other written between the lines, knowing if a Seth existed like in his hallucination, he would understand. He was ready to close and the pen hovered over the bottom of the page, as he wondered how to express a closure to this unusual letter. He smiled, putting the pen to the paper and began to write: For all you showed me in such a short time, I will always love you for it. Thomas.
He folded it, making it ready to go into an envelope. He wondered if he could destroy it, as he initially intended, knowing the answer. When he went home for break, he would take it to his dad’s attorney and make arrangement to have it mailed at the appropriate time, wondering where it would actually end up.
* * * *
Five o’clock finally arrived and instead of hanging around talking to friends on the floor, Seth raced to the elevator. Of late, work had been frustrating, and ever since Sunday morning, he had felt more anxious about his life.
He had felt this way for some time, but ever since the day before, it was worse. It wasn’t unusual to have a guy stay the night, then sneak out the next morning, or more boldly, just get up and say it was fun, dress and leave. And for years he was good with it, even done it himself a few times when he was horny and hooked up with the first available guy he came across. But he was going to be thirty next March, and it seemed like a milestone. He thought of the teenager he had been, graduating from high school and going to college, with plans for a future. He was going to meet a lot of guys, enjoy himself and when he started working, he would grow more serious, eventually finding Mr. Right and settle down. He imagined all of this by the time he was twenty-eight or twenty-nine, for by the time he was thirty, he was to have a life settled down into a routine, one with a partner.
But there were too many fuck and runs. Too many long days at work, blowing off friends to go out for dinner or drinks, or to go to a party where he might meet someone.
Thomas had seemed different. The initial tepidness, a shyness he had found attractive. Then there was the sex, the way Thomas had seemed naïve, hesitant, but once they were tangled up together…
He thought Thomas would be different.
He raced home, why, he didn’t know. He just knew he needed to be alone, back in his own place. He came into the lobby and went to the wall of mailboxes to check his mail. It had promotional fliers, the cable bill and a credit card application, and on bottom a post office card letting him know a certified letter was at the post office he could retrieve the next day. He had no reason to be getting a certified letter and he wondered what it could be. He worried it could be something bad, then wondered if some unknown relative had died and left him something. He imagined silly things the letter could be about, for nothing serious came to mind.
The post office didn’t open until nine, so Seth called in saying something personal came up and he had to take care of it. He could easily wait until lunch, but it was an excuse to call out for half a day, and he was still feeling like something was missed with Thomas. Some opportunity not explored. He stood in line waiting for his turn, flipping the green card through his fingers. At the counter, he handed it to the woman working the counter, and when asked for it, pulled out his driver’s license. She went into the back and stayed gone far longer than he thought was necessary, but she eventually came back with a standard business size envelope with the green tag on the front. He signed for it and headed out. He descended the steps and moved out on the sidewalk. He crossed the street and entered the small park across the way, sitting at the first available bench where he held the envelope up. It was nearly pristine with neat corners, but there was something about it that seemed old. He looked at the return address of some law firm in the city and it made him anxious. He tore it open and saw another envelope was inside it. It was addressed to him, and instead of a return address there was just a name: T. Harding. He tore it opened and found it contained lined notebook paper and quickly realized it was a handwritten letter. It was cursive writing, neater than any he had seen in a long time, only his mother’s was better. He unfolded it and saw it was indeed addressed to him, but the date was all wrong. It was September 22, 1969. He looked at the name at the bottom and froze.
It was impossible, everything in the letter. It made no sense. He walked to the attorney’s office and finally got someone to come from upstairs and talk to him. They didn’t know anything about the origin of the letter for it had been a former partner who had dealt with it back in 1969, but the instructions for it were clear. It was not to be mailed until last Friday, certified mail to insure it didn’t arrive over the weekend, but on Monday.
Seth went home and sat at his dining table staring at the four-page letter. The impossibilities of what it implied, this traveling in time. It was the stuff of fantasy, science fiction, and he knew it was impossible. He looked at the envelope then the name at the bottom of the letter. Thomas…Thomas Harding. It couldn’t be the same. But there was something else about the name, something familiar. Turning around he looked over to the coffee table at the magazines spread out on it. It was recently when he had seen the full name somewhere and he went into the living area and sat. He thumbed through one magazine after the next. The Advocate, Instinct, Entertainment Weekly, GQ and Esquire for each of the four months he kept laid out.
He was thumbing through the July issue of Entertainment Weekly, when he saw the section on recent releases in publishing and knew where he had seen the name. he went back to the August issue and flipped back to the section on books and saw it, Thomas Harding, the author who published under an alias for nearly fifteen years, released a new fantasy book under his real name. There was a photo of a man now forty-two years old, and Seth felt short of breath as he recognized him. He read the short description of his latest book, a time travel story about a gay man going ahead in time, meeting someone who helps him come to terms with his homosexuality in an age when, in his time, it is considered a deviant behavior, a choice to be different. Seth read the short bio, how Thomas Harding graduated in 1972, protested the war, and worked at a publishing company while he developed his first book that would get published in 1977. The article went on listing the subsequent books, most science fiction, but a few historical on the Vietnam War and the different ages of public protesting. It closed with Thomas Harding living in the mountains outside Asheville, North Carolina with his partner of twenty-three years.
It was too much, this story that laid out before him. Thomas coming from 1969 and now, after twenty-three years, a letter he had written back then showing up in his mailbox. He would dwell on this for days, weeks, unable to push it aside. It would torment his sleep, cause him to lose focus at work and question his sanity.
* * * *
Seth left work furious. He had been the project leader, the one who stayed late to have conference calls with the client on the west coast, and at times, taking calls late at night with the partner out of Japan. He had been the one to come up with the initial idea and how to implement it, but yesterday the boss came in and congratulated them on a job well done, then turned to Richard, giving him a company leadership award. The others were stunned their boss could be so callous in ignoring Seth’s hard work, going so far to give the credit to Richard. They knew Richard was the boss’ favorite, the one dating his daughter, but to be so blatant in his favoritism of someone who did far less work than anyone else, it riled them all. But none more so than Seth.
Seth left, unable to face his boss, knowing he would be tempted to call him out. He came in the next day, thinking it would easier after a night to settle down, but it had been worse, his boss giving him the speech about team work and not trying to gain the spotlight when others worked on the project as well. It was an insult that Seth couldn’t accept.
At his desk that afternoon, defiantly not doing any work, telling the receptionist he was tied up and wouldn’t take any calls, even from the client on the west coast. He realized he was floundering, nothing working out as he planned. He thought of Thomas, now living outside Asheville, and wondered why he couldn’t have a similar life. It had been four months since he hooked up with him, then got the letter. Four months he sat in his apartment rereading the letter or just staring at it on the dining table, a place it still occupied all these months later. None of it made sense, but there was something about it, this story that Thomas had told him, one he was a part. There was something he needed to do. It was spelled out in the letter, not in words, but in the spaces between them. The insinuations, the idea of who we are and what can be, if only…
He pulled up his computer and typed a letter to his boss, one that gave notice he was quitting. They could let Richard handle the project since he was such a leader, knowing it would probably be the end of it if the boss let him handle it on his own. At ten till five, he knocked on the boss’ door, entered without a word of greeting, and laid the resignation letter on his desk.
“I’ll give you two weeks as required, but not a minute more,” said Seth, struggling to keep his anger in check.
“You can’t quit. This project is just starting and you’re the one who laid it out and…”
“So, you admit I did the work, then insulted me by giving the credit to Richard. Well, if he is such a leader, he can deal with it. You got two weeks and I’m out of here.”
Seth was defiant, hoping the boss would react, and he let his lips curl upward ever so slightly when the boss rose and leaned forward.
“I don’t need your ungrateful attitude. Why don’t you get your stuff and call it two weeks? In fact, we’ll make it official.”
Seth watched the boss, with shaking hand, scratch out the date at the top of the letter and change it to two weeks prior.
“Very well, I’ll get my things and be gone. I should be out of here in thirty minutes or less.”
That night, Seth laid on the sofa staring into space. For the last five months, he had been busting his ass on the project and now he was free of it. He looked over at the television where the news was covering the landing of the Endeavour. Then he got up and went to pack, picking up the letter as he went.
Just after daybreak the next morning, Seth climbed into his SAAB 900 Turbo and worked his way down the parking deck, and out into the early morning traffic. It would take over an hour to get out of the city and its suburbs, but by mid-morning, he was on the interstate headings south. He moved smoothly through traffic, pushing his speed just enough to get past the slower traffic and out on open road. It would take over eleven hours to drive to his destination, with stops for food and gas along the way, but he was free to take as long as it required, and he needed the time to think of what he was going to do when he got there. And he had his music, two travel cases of CD’s to while away the time.
It was six thirty, the day at an end when Seth drove into downtown Asheville. He drove around the unfamiliar city until he found a hotel that looked suitable. With it being winter, there was no worry about finding a room. He checked in and with a jacket pulled on, headed out to walk around, looking for a place to grab dinner. At the first restaurant he came to, one busy with customers, he went inside. He sat along the front window and watched the few people who were out. He wondered what the city was like in the summer and fall, knowing it was a resort city, busy during the hot summer months and the fall when the leaves changed, the surrounding mountains brilliant with reds, oranges and yellows.
On the walk back to the hotel, Seth realized he was calm, calmer than he had been in a long time. He felt at ease, with the cold against his face. He felt alive and wondered if it was the place, or the freeing of himself from a job that was requiring more and more of him, giving nothing in return.
The next morning, he walked around town looking for a place that served breakfast, entering a restaurant known for its use of honey. After breakfast, he made his way to the library, to look up Thomas Harding. He read articles about the release of books, interviews that discussed the nonfiction publications and one from a British magazine, discussing a science fiction release of 1984 that revolved around a society of beings who were gender neutral, morphing their bodies into the sex that was desired, or in some cases, required of them to fulfill some destiny. Seth read between the lines, how Thomas was exploring a world that didn’t judge based on sex, or on sexuality, for there was not distinction until someone chose what they desired. About to give up on finding anything that would give him some clue on where Thomas lived, he saw a newspaper clipping, another interview, but this one was by the local paper and the author had talked about his drive out of the city, taking Town Mountain Road until it ran into the Blue Ridge Parkway, turning left just before the intersection and driving up on the mountain until he came to a dead end. It was where the author and his partner had twenty acres with a modest house nestled on the side of the mountain. Seth wrote down the description of the drive and went to find a map of the area.
With a map of Asheville and the surrounding area spread out on a table, he ran his finger up, along Town Mountain Road until it turned, ending with it intersecting the Blue Ridge Parkway. He looked at the roads that branched out from it near its end, quickly noticing one road ran up a mountain and came to a dead end, while the other road angled back into another area of development.
“This has to be it,” Seth mumbled to himself, as he sketched out a map noting the rough distances to expect.
It was nearly noon, as he walked down to a restaurant, not bothering to check the menu first. He wasn’t looking for something special, just nourishment that would let him get on his way. He ordered a sandwich when the waiter came for his drink order, explaining he was short on time.
Within forty-five minutes he was back at the hotel, getting into his car. It took him two wrong turns to find the highway that would take him north of the city, but eventually he was heading in the right direction. The drive was slow for traffic was heavy and the road curved sharply at times, as it wound its way north. It was only a few miles north of town where the road intersected the parkway and he turned left just before curving into the intersection. He curved around the north end of the mountain, then climbed back up its slope. It was only a half mile to its end and Seth saw a mailbox by a drive with Harding/Reynolds across the top. The red flag was up, and Seth wondered if it was just bills, or maybe a manuscript for a new novel.
The drive curved and wound up the mountain, at times steeply, but eventually it leveled off and Seth came into a small clearing that was positioned below a house. The house was tucked into the trees with an open yard below it. The drive led him across the lower section of the clearing, then up the far side until he was pulling into a parking court that sat between the house, a two car garage and a small structure that looked like a guest cottage or a studio. Two border collies ran out and circled his car, the pace a fast trot.
With the engine shut off, Seth stared at his surroundings, still trying to figure out what to say, while harboring some doubt this was the right place. But he knew it was, and he finally opened the door and stepped out. The dogs ran up to him, sniffing his legs with tails wagging.
“Martin! Martin Luther!” someone called out and one of the border collies headed toward the back of the house. “Rachel!” they called out again, and the other border collie headed off too.
Seth looked up to see a man come around the back of the house. He was tall, lean, with a sun hat on his head and a garden tool in his hand. He ambled unhurriedly across the rear yard and out into the graveled parking court.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I think so. My name is Seth Roberts and I came to see…”
“Seth?!” came a voice from inside the house and they turned to see someone step out, a book in one hand.
Seth recognized him immediately. It was Thomas. He watched him approach and realized how attractive and fit he looked in person, more so than in any of the photos he had seen that morning. He saw the graying temples and a face changed, more mature, more confident and when he was only a few feet away, a pleasant nature to his eyes and the smile of recognition.
“Seth, I was wondering when I would be seeing you.”
“You knew I would come?”
Thomas laughed as the other man came along side of him.
“So, we finally meet,” said the other man.
“Finally,” Thomas replied, then he looked at Seth, “forgive my manners. As much as I have prepared myself for this day, it is still a shock to see you. What has it been? Four months since we last met, but really it has been twenty-three years. Let me introduce my partner. Seth, this is Edward Reynolds, the man who has been with me through thick and thin. Edward, this is Seth Roberts.”
“I questioned the fool’s sanity over this for years, but eventually…it became clear to me,” said Edward.
“Why don’t we go inside where we can talk,” said Thomas, gesturing Seth to follow them into the house.
“So, you’re an author,” said Seth as they moved across the gravel onto the pavers leading to the back door.
“Yes, and Edward is an architect. His office is in Asheville.”
They went inside the house, through a kitchen into a large open living dining area that overlooked the large lawn in front and the valley below.
“I have to know…how did you do it?” asked Seth.
“I don’t know. And it happened only that one time.”
“I remember how we looked for him, beginning to think the police had arrested him and kept it secret,” said Edward.
“Arrested?”
“We were protesting the war and things got ugly. Teargas and police beating up people, dragging some off.”
Turning to Thomas, “but you didn’t get arrested? You…” Seth stammered, still not sure he believed it.
Thomas got up and went into to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of red wine and three glasses. He poured each of them a glass, set the bottle down and eased back into his chair. He took his time, sipping the wine, swirling it around in the glass, as he contemplated Seth. He relaxed, leaned back, and set the glass down, his fingers still holding the stem.
“Let me tell you a story, Seth, one that happened a long time ago.”
Thomas told of entering college, a gay man during a time when being gay was a deviant behavior. He told of joining student groups, the most important to him the one protesting the war, where he met Carl, Mike, Kevin and so many others, including the person that would become the most important person to him. He explained the protest that led to the events that intertwined their lives, the loop in time neither of them could explain, but for him, this meeting of an openly gay man, who was bold, going after what he wanted, and how, later on, it gave him the courage to approach Edward.
Seth was rattled by the story. Tears pooled in his eyes and he was shaking. He wondered about the impossibility of it, this defiance of known laws of time and space, and how it seemed unfair that for Thomas the encounter was such a positive thing, while he felt his life had done nothing but go downhill. He wiped his eyes as they sat silent for a minute, Thomas finished with his story, and Edward sitting to the side, silent, the sentry in this encounter.
“I’m glad to know I helped you, for…”
“What happened to you since then?” asked Thomas.
Seth hesitated, not sure he could say it, but once he started, he told how it freaked him out receiving the letter, then for months questioning his sanity. And during the following four months busting his ass only to end up not receiving the credit he deserved, it going to the person who worked the least, causing him to quit his job. By the time he got to this part of his story, his had gotten angry again, his voice rising, at times quivering with the rage he felt at the unfairness of it. Then he stopped, suddenly aware of something he had not thought to question. He looked at Edward, noting how calm and collect he appeared through it all, as if it were the most natural thing.
“How did Thomas convince you this is real?” asked Seth, staring at Edward.
Edward smiled, shaking his head. Thomas started to speak, and he put a hand on his arm causing him to fall silent.
“He initially told me he thought it was a hallucination, that it couldn’t be real. Even after writing the letter and giving it to the attorney, he didn’t think it really happened. Four months ago, we flew up and had a few days in the city, catching a couple of plays, seeing the symphony, and hitting several restaurants on our long list of ones we want to try. Then on a Saturday night, we went to this nightclub, and hung out at the bar. I was surprised Thomas wanted to go, but as we had a couple of drinks, he told he about meeting you, this time not as a hallucination. I thought he had too much to drink, but then we saw you come in, dance with a couple of guys, then we saw a younger Thomas stumble into the club from a back door. It was quite a shock…for both of us.
“You were there?” asked Seth.
“Yes. And we saw you pull Thomas to the dance floor, and dance together, then sometime in the early morning hours, when the club was packed with patrons, we saw you lead Thomas from the dance floor and to the exit.
“We left right after that, and the next morning, not wanting to be in the city when we knew that letter was on its way to you, we flew back home.”
Seth leaned back, seeing how Thomas and Edward even waited for twenty-three years to confirm it had happened. “Fuck,” he uttered.
“Seth, have you found another job?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you stay here for a few days. Relax and get your feet underneath you. You can stay in the guest cottage, so we want be under foot much and when you are agreeable, we can go into Asheville for dinner in the evenings.”
Seth suddenly realized he really had no where to be, no appointments or job where he was expected. He looked through the doorway to the kitchen and out the glass door where he could see the corner of the guest cottage, and it seemed something he could not say no. No one knew he was here, and he could just be a ghost for a few days. Disappear as Thomas did so many years ago.
“I’d like that.”
“I assume you have a room in one of the hotels in town?” asked Thomas.
“Yes.”
“Why don’t we plan on dinner in town. Afterwards, we can retrieve your luggage.”
Seth smiled, one trying to get past his weariness and fatigue.
The cottage was one room with a small bathroom in back. There was a tall four-poster queen bed that seemed to take up most of the room. It was wood with a clean, tapered post at each corner. A very contemporary piece; made more unique by the black and white handmade quilt on the bed. There was a kitchenette and a small sitting area, with a day lounge and chair with ottoman. Seth recognized both pieces of furniture: Le Corbusier Chaise Lounge and Eames Lounge Chair and Ottoman. The chaise lounge sat up front, by the large window overlooking the yard between the cottage and house. The chair and ottoman sat by the window looking toward the house. Despite the furniture the space wasn’t pretentious, instead it was comfortable with its wood walls painted white and black slate floor. There were paintings and small pieces of pottery and art scattered around the room, and he knew without looking they would be local artist.
It had been nearly eleven before they got back, and Thomas and Edward had invited him to breakfast the next morning, but also told him to sleep in if he felt like it. They told him of the nearest restaurants should he prefer to get out, and bid him a goodnight. He lay in bed, still feeling anxious, but he also felt himself relaxing for the first time in months. He wondered what it was like, living on this mountain just north of Asheville, a city so much smaller than what he was accustom. As sleep began to overtake him, he began to sense the slowness of life one could enjoy, if one so chose.
There was a humming sound, something mechanical. Its pitched changed as it moved around, sometimes close, then moving away. He struggled to wake, for he had slept more soundly than he had in a very long time. He stretched his arms and sat up. A guy was in the side yard tilling a plot for planting and he realized it was the sound he had been hearing in his sleep. He went into bathroom, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, and decided he would drive down to Asheville to grab an early lunch and browse the shops, especially the used bookstore he saw the night before.
Keys in hand, Seth stepped out into the late morning sun. Despite its brightness, the day was cool, and he zipped up his jacket. The sound of the tiller approached from the side of the house and he saw the guy holding tight to the handle, working to keep it straight and steady. Only this time he got a better look, one that caused him to freeze in place and stare. The guy waved, then turned around and headed back across the small raised plot. He looked tall and well built, something his thin jacket could not conceal. With short blonde hair and fair skin, Seth found himself considering how the guy was attractive. He wondered about the guy’s story, how often he came to tend to the yard and if he lived nearby. Did he have a wife and kid, or was he single…better yet, was he gay. The questions came at a furious pace, reflecting a desire to get to know him.
Once out of sight, Seth shook his head, smiling at how blatantly he had been staring. He went to the house and knocked on the door, hearing Edward call out for him to come on in.
“I’m going into town for an early lunch and browse around some.”
“Going to that bookstore, I bet,” Edward replied, not even looking up from washing some lettuce.
Seth chuckled. “Yep. I was wondering…”
“About our landscaper?”
“What?! No! I was going to ask if you guys wanted to meet for dinner in town later?”
“So, you don’t want to know about the landscaper?” Edward asked, looking at Seth with a mischievous smile.
Seth laughed, and nodded his head. “I guess you saw me staring.”
“We all look. But those that are single might be able to do more than just look.”
“He’s single…gay?”
It was Edward’s turn to laugh, nodding his head as he turned back to the lettuce he was holding under the water. “I do believe he is gay.” Edward shut off the water, shook the lettuce a few times and laid it in a colander. “Dinner sounds nice and we can talk about Elyan. We could meet you in town around 6:30. In front of the Exchange.”
“The Exchange?”
“Oh, sorry. The Battery Park Book Exchange.”
“Okay, and what did you say his name was again?”
Edward laughed again, then looked at Seth, “Elyan, with a ‘y’.”
Seth nodded. “I’ll be going; see you at 6:30.”
Seth parked in a deck, then set out. He grabbed lunch at a small restaurant on Wall Street, then roamed the streets, going into different shops, spending the most time in the bookstores. He saved the Exchange until last, browsing its maze of rooms until it was nearly 6:30.
Thomas and Edward were already waiting for him when he came out, Thomas in a steel gray jacket, black t-shirt, and jeans and Edward in a black jacket, white banded collar shirt, and jeans. They were attractive, and obviously a couple to anyone who took notice of them, and a lot of people took notice he would discover while walking with them along the city’s sidewalks.
They walked to Lexington Avenue, going into a small restaurant already crowded. Seth wondered if they would have a long wait, but the hostess hugged Edward, then Thomas, telling them their table was ready. It was in the back corner, a table slightly isolated from the others, and the noise of conversations dulled to a white noise.
Drinks were served, then their dinner, as they talked casually about Seth’s afternoon, the shops he had gone into and the books he had purchased. As they finished their meal, Edward nodded toward Thomas who smiled. Thomas then looked at Seth.
“So, you want to know about Elyan?”
Seth smiled, and felt the warmth of his face from blushing.
Thomas told of Elyan being from Murchison, the middle child of three, with an older brother who was a state trooper, currently somewhere in the eastern part of the state, and a younger sister who was at ASU. Elyan was twenty-four, running his own landscape and yard maintenance service, and hoped to drop the maintenance side in the near future. He was single, a bit shy, but friendly once he got to know someone.
“…and as far as we can tell, he doesn’t date casually a whole lot, but not sure about that,” said Thomas, ending his bio of Elyan.
“How do you know he doesn’t go out much?” asked Seth.
“We go out on Saturday nights about two or three times a month to this small bar in town. A chance to catch up with some old friends and have a drink. Elyan is usually there too, hanging out with a few guys, and sometimes with us, and I’ve never seen him leave with anyone,” replied Edward.
“So, I shouldn’t get my hopes up, especially as someone just visiting?”
“Can’t say for sure, but…” said Edward, shrugging his shoulders.
“Can’t say I blame him. I’ve been getting…” Seth fell silent, unsure what word described how he felt. This fatigue of meeting guys that were one-night stands, or the feeling of loneliness he had been feeling, or the frustration of the chase, the flirting and banter that happened constantly in the bar he frequented. He was nearing thirty and ready to settle into a routine, to have someone with him at night helping to prepare dinner, to be there when it was time for bed and when he woke in the morning. Or to be there when he got home to listen to how his day had been, and he could do the same for them.
“Sounds like you’re ready to settle down,” said Thomas as he picked up his wine glass.
“I think so.”
“Thomas; let’s pay and get going. I need to be in the office early in the morning,” said Edward.
“Okay,” Thomas replied, motioning the waiter for their check.
“I’m heading back too. I’m beat,” said Seth, pulling out his wallet.
“We got this,” said Thomas.
“But you’re already doing too much and…”
“And nothing; we got this,” Thomas replied, taking the check from the waiter, giving it a quick glance then handing it back with his card.
Seth laid in bed as he did the night before. He was exhausted, his body fatigued from walking all afternoon and the warm bed was a comfort. He snuggled underneath the blanket and breathed out one long breath, releasing the final anxiousness he had been feeling. Then with eyes closed, he drifted off to sleep.
The light was soft, warm, as only the early morning sun could provide. There was a fog laying over the side of the mountain that was slowly burning off with the light of the sun. Seth lay in bed, content to watch the arrival of another day while snuggled under the covers. He heard a car pull out of the garage, then ease down the drive, the sound of it slowly fading until the mountain was once again quiet.
With the coffee pot set to brew a small pot, Seth went to shower and get dressed. He pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans, a shirt, then a sweater over it. He slipped on his jacket and with a hot cup of coffee in hand, eased outside to a small patio area below the side of the house and the raised planting bed. There was a metal firepit and four Adirondack chairs. The chairs were white, and so pristine they seemed to glow in the early morning light. He eased down in one that let him look toward the front yard where it spread out below the house, and the woods beyond, and even further in the distance, the valley below.
He let his mind roam from one idea to the next, not focusing on any one thing. His lack of a job, why he quit, being single and how it had been what he wanted, until now. Eyes scanning the side of the house, seeing the kitchen window lit up and movement within, he thought of Thomas’ life, how it was a good life, one he wished for himself in some manner.
A truck towing a trailer came into view as it followed the drive across the lower part of the front yard, up along the side of it, then disappeared from sight by the house blocking the view. He heard it come up the drive and pull into the parking court. Thomas called out, but not loud enough for Seth to make out what was being said, but he knew it was Elyan who had arrived, and Thomas was probably discussing the plans for the day’s work.
Another sip of coffee, the warmth traveling down, comforting in the cold morning air, and Seth leaned back and watched the mist of fog dissipate. He didn’t hear the soft footsteps approach and was startled when a strange voice called out his name.
“Seth? OH, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Seth looked around, sitting up as he did, and saw it was Elyan, standing a few feet away.
“It’s okay. I was sitting here daydreaming and didn’t hear you.”
“The mountain will do that to you.”
Seth looked at Elyan, trying to control his thoughts, as he waited for him to speak.
“Oh…sorry,” Elyan apologized, blushing red, cheeks getting a rosy in color, “Thomas has made breakfast and was wondering if you wanted to join us.”
“That would be nice,” Seth replied, as he eased to his feet, “lead the way.”
Seth followed Elyan up to the house, getting a better measure of the man. He looked young, younger than any twenty-four, but he had a man’s body that filled out his clothes, evident even with a jacket. And he was tall, at least three or four inches taller than his own five ten. He walked slower than Seth was accustomed, who had to adjust his pace, for he wanted to stay behind him. Otherwise Elyan might see him staring.
Plate, utensils, and napkins were laid out on the table in the dining room where they would be able to overlook the front yard. Thomas was carrying a platter of bacon and ham and a bowl of grits when they came into the kitchen.
“Elyan, can you pull the biscuits out of the oven and bring them to the table. Seth, could you get that platter of eggs?”
“Yes” Elyan and Seth said in unison and they gave each other a quick smile. Elyan got to the range first and handed the platter of eggs to Seth, then he opened the oven to pull the biscuits out.
They gathered in the dining room and Thomas realized a coffee pot was sitting on a buffet, an old piece of furniture, the wood scared and scratched, that gave the room a lived-in feel.
“You boys get a cup of coffee and let’s eat,” said Thomas, taking a seat.
Seth noticed the table was set with one place on one side and two on the other, one of which Thomas had taken. Elyan filled a cup and took the seat next to Thomas, and Seth refilled his cup and took the seat on the opposite side, one that put him directly across from Elyan. Every time he would look up, Elyan was be the first thing he saw.
“Seth, Thomas says you are an old friend,” said Elyan.
Seth chocked, having to cover his mouth as he tried to stop. He took a drink of coffee hoping the hot liquid would clear his throat. “Yes,” he replied, his voice hoarse.
“You okay?” asked Elyan.
Seth nodded his head as he took another drink.
“I swallowed wrong. Yes, we’ve known each for a while, although we haven’t seen much of each other over the years.”
“Where did you guys meet?”
“OH, we met in the city, crossed paths at that nightclub on Garden Street,” Thomas interjected.
“Nightclub?” Elyan asked, “when have you been in a nightclub recently?”
“What are you implying?” Thomas replied, sounding offended. When Elyan looked away, he winked at Seth.
“What about you? Thomas said you’re from near here.”
“Yes, up in Murchison. I left home at sixteen and came down here where I got a job with this lawn service. The owner was a bastard, working us overtime and not paying us for it. I couldn’t say anything for he was willing to pay me under the table until I turned eighteen. I worked for him for six years until I got sick of his antics.”
“And you started your own company?” asked Seth.
“Yes. Thomas and Edward were my first clients and they helped me get established. That was three years ago last July.”
“Sounds like things are going well for you.”
Elyan smiled, but there was something missing in it. “Yes, although…” He let the sentence trail off, not finishing it.
“I know what you mean. I had this job that was supposed to be it. The one that let me really make it.”
“Had?”
“I quit. The boss was just using me and like your previous situation, I got tired of it.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Nothing,” Seth replied, defiantly, looking Elyan in the eye.
Thomas laughed, then Seth began to giggle until he too was laughing. Elyan looked at Thomas then Seth and laughed with them.
“You got any plans?” Thomas finally asked.
“Not really. I’ve got some money saved up, and a retirement account I could tap if need,” Seth replied, then he grew serious, leaning forward, “I’m thinking of opening my own business.”
“What kind?”
“I was considering a men’s clothing store. You know a small specialty line, with accessories and gift items. I’ve been in marketing since college and have a lot of ideas on how to set it up, some names I could use, but…”
“But?” asked Elyan.
“It is critical to get the product line right, to make a big splash up front, in order to get established, and I’m not sure I’m able to do everything up front I need to do it.”
“Like what?” asked Thomas.
“There is the location, renovating a space, then there is the pulling together the product line and getting an appropriate mix of items. And of course, there is the marketing for a grand opening and subsequent advertising.”
“You’re worried you don’t have enough for all of it?”
“That would be it. When I get back home, I was going to hit a few banks, and this credit union near my apartment and see if any of them are receptive.”
“It’ll be expensive in the city and a lot of competition. Have you thought of moving to another city?” asked Thomas.
“Yes,” Seth replied, grinning at Thomas. “I’ve wondered about Asheville, but not sure there is enough of a customer base.”
“If you looked here, I would suggest you focus your product line to the outdoor adventurers, the hikers and campers. Clothing that would work for them and appeal to those who want to portray an image of an adventurer,” said Thomas.
“Oh, that would be good,” said Elyan. “The gay guys would love that.”
Seth looked at Elyan, realizing it was the first reference to being gay.
“You should know,” Thomas replied, offhandedly, as he got up to take his plate to the kitchen. “Seth, if you think it’ll work, come talk to Edward and I. We might be able to help,” he added just before leaving the room.
Seth looked at Elyan, surprised at the offer. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Is he serious?”
“Yep. They helped me when my old mower quit on me. A loan I’ve been trying to repay for months, only to have them tear up the checks, telling me to wait a bit longer for I may need funds for another emergency.”
“I couldn’t ask them for money,” Seth whispered.
“And why not? You’re not willing to take on silent partners?” Thomas exclaimed as he came back into the room.
“It’s too much. It’ll take a couple of hundred thousand, at least.”
“Seth, you came here depressed as hell and mad at the world. For the last few minutes, you have been so animated, an excitement in your voice on the possibilities. I think you have this planned out more than you’re letting on. I realize doing a men’s store here will be different than in the city, but the general format…that is the same. Think about it over the next couple of days and this weekend we can talk about it again. Until then…”
“The weekend? I can’t stay that long?”
“You have someplace to be?”
“No, but…”
“Seth, you’re a guest and out in the cottage, so you’re not underfoot. I feel like I owe you so much, and…just take a few days to relax and think. This Friday night, we can go into town to this wonderful little Thai place. Elyan? Would you join us?”
“Sure,” Elyan replied. He looked around at Seth, “at least take his offer to hang around for a few days.”
“Okay,” Seth replied, leaning back and shaking his head. He saw Elyan smile at Thomas, giving a little nod, and he wondered if he had been the subject of some previous conversations.
Seth and Elyan helped Thomas clean up, washing and drying the dishes, handing them off to Thomas to put away. Once finished, Elyan went out first, while Seth wiped the dining table off and watched Thomas place a vase, a handcrafted piece in the center of it.
“Are you serious?” Seth asked.
Thomas stood back, looking to make sure the vase was centered, then nodded. “Why, yes. Why don’t you think about it, what it’ll take and let’s discuss on it on Saturday? In the meantime, I’ve got a novel to work on, and you need to rest and gather your thoughts.”
“Okay, I get it. Time to go,” Seth replied, chuckling at the way Thomas was dismissing him. He went out the back door and saw Elyan carrying a palette of flowers. Although the plants were small, he could see the vibrant colors of their blooms. “You’re planting flowers now?”
“Yes, for some fall color. These are pansies but I’ve got some ornamental kale and cabbage in the truck too.”
“You need some help?”
Elyan slowed, then stopped near Seth, “you asking to be polite or want something to do?”
“The latter,” Seth replied.
“You’ll get your city boy hands dirty,” said Elyan, grinning.
It made Seth forget for a moment what they were talking about, the grin with its dimples and the flash of white teeth. “Oh, I guess I’ll survive.”
“Look in the back footwells and grab one of the palettes and come down to the bed.”
The ornamental cabbages and kale were grouped down the middle of the bed with pansies clustered around the perimeter. Still on knees, Seth and Elyan were opposite each other at the far end of the bed. They scanned their handiwork, the colorful flowers and plants filling the raised bed, and smiled, nodding their heads in approval.
“Looks good. Thomas and Edward should like it,” said Elyan.
“I think so,” replied Seth.
Elyan climbed to his feet and Seth found himself watching, the tall body rising up, standing tall before him, and the image of him moving to Elyan on his knees rose up vivid, lurid in every detail, and he looked away quickly, afraid Elyan would be able to read his expression.
“Seth…Elyan, you guys want to have lunch?” Thomas called out. He was standing at the back of the house just above them. “The bed looks good,” he added.
“Sounds good, we’ll just pick up and come in,” said Elyan.
Seth reached for the empty palettes and the small garden tool he had used to dig in the tilled soil. He saw Elyan moving in front of him, doing the same.
“Let’s go see what feast Thomas has prepared. I’m starving,” said Elyan.
“Me too,” Seth replied, climbing to his feet, back stiff from bending over the bed.
A large bowl of pasta sat in the middle of the table, with roasted vegetables, Prosciutto, and chicken, all of it was tossed with olive oil and sprinkled with Parmesan cheese. The smell of garlic filled the dining room from the French bread and a white wine sat ready to pour.
“This is a bit much, isn’t it?” asked Seth, and Elyan winked at him.
“Nonsense,” replied Thomas, coming into the room with three wine glasses.
Elyan laughed, followed by Seth, then Thomas.
They sat around the table as before, Elyan and Thomas on one side and Seth on the other side, opposite of Elyan.
“Thomas is there anything else you want done in the yard, or am I finished?” asked Elyan.
Seth didn’t realize it at first, but he was staring at Elyan, realizing he wasn’t going to be coming around anymore if there was no other work to be performed.
Thomas saw his look and stammered for a reply.
“I…what…about the trees that need pruning? Is it the right time of year?”
“It’s a little early, but we could go ahead and do it, if you like.”
“You could start at the bottom of the yard, get the limbs that will be grown out over the drive too low by next year, and work your way up to the house.”
“I’ll bring my limb saw and the tools I’ll need in the morning.”
They finished lunch, and Elyan and Seth helped clean up. With the last bowl put away, Thomas dried his hands as Elyan closed the cabinet doors and wiped off the counter.
“What are you doing the rest of the day?” asked Elyan, not looking around to Seth.
“I was going to read, then maybe go into town tonight. You know walk around a little, then grab dinner somewhere.”
“I’m meeting some friends at seven. Why don’t you join us? We’re going to meet up in front of the Exchange and decide where to go then.”
“You sure I want be intruding?”
“No, not at all. Come on, join us,” Elyan replied, and his tone sounded almost like he was pleading.
“Okay. I’ll be there at seven.”
Elyan headed out the door, and within a few minutes his truck was going down the drive. Seth watched it cross the lower part of the front yard as he wiped off the dining table. He didn’t hear Thomas come into the room.
“He likes you,” said Thomas in a low voice. It still startled Seth, who jerk around feeling like he was caught staring, which he had been.
“What?”
Thomas grinned, “you heard me. Elyan isn’t one to ask someone to join them, unless he likes the person. He likes you.”
“But I’m only here until the weekend.”
“True,” Thomas replied, who turned and walked out of the dining room.
Seth was early, his anxiousness getting the best of him. He leaned against a light pole and used his cellphone to look at the news, checked his email, then browsed one social media site, seeing friends posts about their dinner, preparing to go out or selfies of them with a date or partner. He closed it, wondering if he would have anything worthy of posting.
“Hey, have you been waiting long?” asked Elyan as he crossed the street from the parking deck opposite.
“No, not long.”
Two guys followed Elyan across the street and stood just behind him. Seth couldn’t help but notice they seemed to be like Elyan. Laid back, friendly in their mannerism, and dressed simply in jeans and black jackets.
“This is Marcus,” said Elyan, gesturing toward the taller of his two friends, who was a strawberry blonde, “and this is Ricky,” gesturing to the other guy, who was about five seven with dark brown hair. “Guys, this is Seth.”
“So, you’re staying at Thomas and Edward’s place?” ask Marcus.
“Yes. They were kind of enough to let me use the guesthouse,” replied Seth.
“It is nice of them, but they don’t let a lot of people use it,” said Ricky.
“Really?” asked Seth.
“They like their privacy,” said Marcus.
“Okay, guys, let’s get to the restaurant,” interrupted Elyan.
“Lead the way,” said Ricky, gesturing for Elyan to proceed ahead of them.
“Come on, Seth,” said Elyan, gently touching his arm, then taking off down the sidewalk.
The restaurant was busy, but not crowded and the four guys sat a table on the mezzanine level overlooking the main dining room. All through drinks, then dinner, Marcus and Ricky asked Seth about his life, what his views were on some current topics, while giving him their own stories. Elyan sat silent for the most part, just listening. He made comment on some of the issues being discussed, took exception to some of the things his friends said about him, laughing good naturedly about their exaggerations regarding some aspect of his personality. Seth found himself watching Elyan, noticing how he let others lead the conversation.
All too soon, the guys were back on the sidewalk, discussing whether to call it a night or walk down to the gay bar on the north side of town. Seth wouldn’t commit, waiting to see what Elyan was going to do. He wanted to hang out with him as long as possible, but he didn’t want to end up with Marcus and Ricky without him. But it was Ricky, then Marcus who wanted to call it a night, both having early appointments at their jobs the next morning.
“You don’t have an appointment in the morning…do you?” Elyan asked Seth.
“No, no appointment.”
“We can let these guys call it a night and go grab a drink, if you want to?”
“I’d like that,” replied Seth, and saw Marcus and Ricky smile knowingly.
“Well, we’re off. You two have fun,” said Marcus as he put his arm around Ricky’s neck and led him away.
“Is the bar very far?” asked Seth.
“Not too far. A few blocks, I guess. You up for a little walk, or should we drive?”
“We can walk. It’s a nice night and I could use it.”
The bar wasn’t busy, only five guys at the bar and four around a billiard table in back, but Seth found himself glad for it meant no distractions for Elyan. No running into a bunch of friends that would pull him away. They sat at the bar, ordering drinks.
“You still going back after the weekend?” asked Elyan.
“Yes. I’m afraid I’ll overstay my welcome.”
“It’s odd.”
“What’s odd?”
“How Thomas is letting you stay as long as you want, even telling you to stay longer. What is your history with him?
“My history? There’s not much really. We met a while back and…” Seth stammered to a stop, realizing he couldn’t say they had messed around for the timing would be all wrong, with Thomas and Edward being together since 1969.
“And?”
“We just hung out and talked. Thinking back, I think it was all about Edward and how they met. His pushing past his fears and taking the initiative.”
“They are really great together, and to have been together so long. It’s incredible.”
“Is it?”
“Don’t you think so?”
“Yes, of course, but…don’t we assume too often we can’t have a long-lasting relationship with someone?”
Elyan took a deep breath and looked across the bar and Seth didn’t know if he was looking at himself in the mirror or looking over at him. He turned away from the mirror, unable to meet Elyan’s gaze.
“I think you’re right, but I wish it were easier,” said Elyan.
“I know straight people who’d say the same thing.”
Elyan laughed. “I do too,” he replied, then took a long drink of his beer. “I guess Thomas will talk with you this weekend about some business proposal.”
“Yep, but not sure what he could possibly offer me.”
“Don’t underestimate Thomas. And just know, he is insincere. He has helped me in ways I can never repay him.”
“And he’d be insulted if you tried?”
“You would not believe how insulted,” Elyan replied, chuckling at the thought of it. “I know you talked about a clothing store, but if you could really do anything, what would it be?
Go home with you. Seth thought and for a brief moment, he couldn’t look at Elyan. He considered the question wondering if he dared to answer it.
“You were in marketing, right? Would you stay in the field?”
“No. I learned a lot in marketing and PR, but to stay in it and put up with the bullshit? No, I’m ready for a change.”
“And it would be your own little shop?”
Seth grinned as he looked up and stared at Elyan in the mirror. “Yes. Something that is mine. I know how to market it, to do advertising and create a brand for it. It’s the initial startup that is the issue.”
“And it’d be a men’s clothing store?”
“Funny, that is where I bounce around. When I’m back in the city I think specialty clothing store for men. An urban line that appeals to gay guys. But sometimes I think I should consider a bookstore, one plugged into some old storefront with high ceilings so I can have a library ladder. I can roll down the wall of shelves looking for that first edition of Faulkner or Capote or Hemmingway.”
The analogy made the two of them laugh.
“Sounds dangerous,” Elyan joked.
“It’s silly, I know…”
“No, it’s not.”
“Really?”
“Yes. What if you were here in Asheville?”
What if I were here? The idea of moving to Asheville was an idea he had toyed with, dismissing it each time. But hearing Elyan say it suddenly made it seem feasible.
“If I were in Asheville…I think you have enough bookstores, so that is out. But the clothing store could still work, but the line would be need to be different, and what we discussed earlier seems logical.”
“Thomas is not one to suggest something that isn’t feasible.”
“I just don’t know what he would do to help.”
Elyan leaned on his elbows, looking around to Seth. “Could you move? Would you miss the city?”
“The way things have gone for me in the last few months…I think it will be harder to stay.”
Seth looked into the mirror, unable to face Elyan, but he saw his reflection, and the smile that dimpled his cheeks.
“Seth…would you like to swing by my place. A nightcap?”
Seth didn’t hesitate, for to do so, he knew he would come up with some lame excuse to go on back to Thomas and Edward’s place. “Yes, that would be nice.”
Elyan lived on the outskirts of town, and Seth found himself on a narrow road that climbed up the side of one of the mountains that surrounded the city. He followed Elyan, their drive slow with one curve after the next, as they climbed up the grade, in some places so steep the transmission shifted down a few times until the car was pulling up the incline. Houses were tucked on the side of the mountain, above and below the road, and some had driveways that seemed impossible to maneuver. Along the way, there were gaps between the houses and trees that gave him a view of the city down below.
Elyan pulled off on a drive that angled off the road, and climbed up the side of the mountain, and Seth followed. For a short distance it became steep, then leveled out at a small parking area below a small house, whose front porch floated overhead ten or twelve feet. Elyan pulled his truck under a carport on the far side and Seth eased to a stop behind him.
It was quiet on the mountain, only the sound of insects and the occasional sound of a truck on one of roads below disturbing it. Seth followed Elyan across the gravel drive to a set of old stone steps. They climbed up until at the porch and he followed Elyan to the front door and inside. It was a living and dining area, and the kitchen was visible through a large doorway.
“Come on back. Whiskey, right?”
“Yes,” Seth replied as he followed Elyan into the kitchen were he saw a sitting area just beyond the kitchen, with a television and some old component stereo system, and through the windows he could see a stone retaining wall about twenty feet out from the house. “This house is really tucked into the side of the mountain.”
“It is. That backyard is my favorite spot, for it is isolated and quiet. There is a house above me, but it is so far up and sits back enough I never hear anyone.”
“Thanks,” Seth replied as he took the whiskey on the rocks. They clinked glasses and took a slow sip, letting the whiskey warm them from inside.
“You seem nervous.” Elyan uttered in a soft voice.
“I guess…I’m finding myself…” Seth stammered. He took a deep breath and looked Elyan in the eye. “I’m finding myself attracted to you and it doesn’t seem right. It’s crazy, in the past I wouldn’t care if it were a one-night stand or not.”
“That makes me want to pursue this even more,” Elyan replied, setting his glass down and stepping closer.
Seth watched him move closer, until he was in shadow, looking up at the dark silhouette. He felt a hand take the back of his neck and the other brush his chest. He saw the silhouette come closer and he closed his eyes, his senses focused on touch. The hand on his chest, the hand holding his neck, and the lips that pressed against his own.
Elyan led Seth through the house until they stood in a bedroom, one that looked into the backyard. Seth was shocked to see Elyan open the French doors letting the cold night air fill the room. His skin goosebumped and he shivered from the feel of it. Elyan came to him, kissed him again, then began to remove his clothes.
“Isn’t it too cold to have the doors open,” Seth whispered as his shirt fell from his shoulders and Elyan tossed it into a chair.
“I’ll warm you up,” Elyan replied, as he undid Seth’s jeans, slipping the button free, tugging down the zipper then working everything down his legs.
Seth raised each leg, letting Elyan strip him. He watched the jeans and boxers land in the chair, then felt hands rake up each leg. The contact was warm, arousing, and he felt his cock flex as they drew near. A kiss on his abdomen, then the feel of them moving over his skin as the hands held his waist. Then the feel of his cock engulfed in a warm mouth. He shuddered, holding himself steady with hands on Elyan’s shoulders.
Seth became rock hard, sensitive to every touch. He tried to pump his hips, but the hands held him steady as the mouth moved on his cock. He felt the heat of it when engulfed and the cool air when it was exposed. Elyan moved so slowly that he felt each in their entirety.
The mouth pulled off of Seth’s cock and he opened his eyes to see Elyan stand before him. Upper body was bare, revealing a muscular torso and he raked the back of his hand down the center of the chest over the soft matt of hair until he was following the trail that disappeared in the jeans. They looked at each other, so close they could feel each other’s warm exhales.
“Stay with me tonight,” Elyan whispered as he undid his own jeans. He pushed everything down, letting jeans and boxers crumble around ankles, and he stepped out of them, kicking them to the side.
“Okay,” Seth replied, taking him by the hand and leading him to the bed. One step, two, and the bed bumped the back of his legs and he backed up on it, pulling Elyan to follow. The air was cold, and every touch by Elyan seemed hotter than possible by another human body. The hand in his own, the legs that brushed against his legs, the touch of cock against his abdomen, then the weight of the Elyan on top of him. He savored the weight of the Elyan, the way it pressed him into the bed, covering his body. Naked flesh pressed against naked flesh, and he clung to it with desire.
They kissed and fondle each other. There was soft whispers and tongues on exposed flesh that pushed away the cold. Seth watched Elyan rise to his knees, and he spread his legs, opening himself to him. He felt cock rubbed along his ass, the head of Elyan’s cock stroking his desires until he threw his head back, closed his eyes and cried out.
“Fuck…do me.”
Seth felt the push against his tightness, the insistency of it, and he relaxed to it. Elyan breached his tightness, penetrated him with inch after inch of cock. He felt it sink into his hole, the fullness of it. He wanted every inch. He wanted all of it. And he wanted more.
Then Elyan was fucking him, driving into his depths and the room no longer felt cold. He grabbed at the bed and took every thrust, every push into his depths and he begged for more. He felt the undulation of Elyan’s body, the strength of it. The power to drive cock into his depths over and over and over. His own cock drooled on his stomach, the clear emissions pooling on it. Fingers raked through it, then took him in hand. They stroked him with slick fingers tight around his hard cock.
Seth came, his cock spurting cum over his face, neck and chest. Elyan’s hand stroked him until spent and kept on stroking until he begged him to stop, pleaded, for he was too sensitive for such stimulation. Elyan jammed cock into his depths, with abdomen hammering against his ass. No longer in rhythm, for every thrust was just Elyan trying to push deeper. Seth watched how he shuddered and knew Elyan was coming.
Elyan was still aroused, his cock still hard and Seth found himself on top, riding it. Up and down he moved with a steady rhythm, his own cock getting harder and harder. He leaned back and moved his hips faster until the bed squeaked beneath them and his cock flopped wetly against his stomach.
“Fuck…that’s it,” Elyan uttered as he held each ankle.
Seth felt the tight grip, the heat of it and he moved relentlessly on Elyan, took every inch until his own arousal was too much. He was overheated, sweat forming on his chest despite the cold. He moved with determination, as muscles burned with his exertions in his stomach and legs.
He took his own cock in hand and stroked it furiously, hammering his hand down its slick length while moving his ass up and down on Elyan’s cock. And once again, he came first, cum spraying his chest, then dribbling out on his stomach and he kept stroking his flexing cock until shivering with the stimulation. He heard Elyan cry out as hands tightened on his ankles and he slammed his ass down on the spurting cock inside his hole.
Seth pulled into the parking court and noticed it was after eight. Once again, he felt the cold morning air when he stepped out of the warm car. He didn’t have nearly enough sleep, but he felt wide awake, his body alive in a way he had not felt in some time. He walked toward the guest cottage, gravel crunching with each step and he heard the back door of the house swing open. Thomas stepped out, wiping his hand on a dish towel.
“Good morning,” said Seth, not sure what else he could say.
“Good morning,” Thomas replied, and Seth heard the light tone of it.
“Elyan will be here shortly and I’m going to help him limb up the trees.”
“Okay. I’ll have lunch ready around noon, so you guys come on up a few minutes before.”
“Sounds good. I’ll tell Elyan.”
“And Seth?”
“Yes?”
“I trust you had a nice time with Elyan?”
There was a bit of sarcasm in Thomas’ tone but there was something else too. A serious undertone that spoke to his sincerity.
“I did.”
Elyan arrived a few minutes later and Seth walked across the yard down to where he was starting. They worked till lunch time, had lunch with Thomas, then worked most of the afternoon, until the sun was below the ridge and everything was in shadow. Seth cleaned up and when the time arrived, drove into town for dinner with Elyan, and like the night before, he ended up in Elyan’s bed.
The next morning was Friday, and Elyan had another residence to attend to on the other side of town, leaving Seth to lounge around the guest cottage. Dressed in jeans, t-shirt and a thick wool sweater, he lay on the bed reading. At times he drifted off into ‘what if’ scenarios, considered possibilities he feared to say aloud. Just before noon there was a knock.
“Come in,” Seth called out, knowing it was Thomas. He looked up and was surprised to see it was Edward instead.
“Thomas has lunch ready, so come on over.”
“Okay.”
The three of them sat around the dining table, with fillets of trout and a mixed green salad and a white wine in each of their glasses.
“Do you eat like this all the time?” asked Seth, unable to refrain himself.
“OH no, Thomas is cooking like this for you,” Edward replied.
“That is not true,” Thomas exclaimed.
Edward winked at Seth, “normally it is just a sandwich and some greasy chips.”
“I can prepare that if that is what you want?” Thomas replied.
“No, this will do.”
“So, you and Elyan?” asked Edward.
“I guess…but…”
“You’re leaving come Monday,” said Thomas.
“Yes,” Seth replied, realizing he wasn’t looking forward to returning to his life back in the city.
“Can we talk?” asked Thomas.
“Sure.”
“There is a space in Asheville for lease. It’s about a thousand square feet and has a nice storefront facing the street. It needs a bit of work but mostly cosmetic in nature. You could…”
“Wait; I can’t just go lease a space and…and…do what?”
“Open your own business.”
“But it is too much for me. I would have barely enough funds for some renovation and to stock the store and nothing to operate it, to do marketing, to pay myself something to live on until the store was profitable. I can’t…”
“Seth,” Thomas interrupted. “With some silent partners, you can.”
“Thomas! I can’t take your money. I don’t know how long it’d take me to pay you back.”
“The time frame is unimportant. Seth, I owe you a debt of gratitude that this mere money feels inadequate and…”
“But I didn’t do anything; not really.”
“Seth, but you did. Just know you showed me how things could be if I was just bold enough to take the leap. And look around you. This is the culmination of that leap.”
“Seth,” said Edward, getting his attention. “We’ve helped others, some less deserving by your way of thinking, but we did it for we wanted to help them. This really isn’t a burden on us to help you and honestly, when you are able to pay us back, it’ll go into an account we’ll use to help someone else.”
“You do this all the time, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Seth looked from Edward to Thomas, the friendly smiles that spoke of a sincerity and desire to help.
“But I don’t have anything set up, just ideas and notes on what it might take.”
“There is always the first step, and it is the hardest,” Thomas replied.
“How long would it take you to get your affairs in order back in the city and move back?” asked Edward.
“Not long, since I don’t have a job,” Seth replied, laughing sarcastically. “My lease is up in two months on my apartment and other than that…nothing is keeping me there.”
“Good…good. Go back, tell them you’re leaving in a month, give them notice and pay them for the extra month and get back down here. You can stay in the cottage until you have your plan in place, and find a place to live. Do you have the money to live on for a while?”
“Yes, and probably enough to do as mentioned earlier. The interior work and getting stock.”
“We can discuss how we help fund your start up when you get back. And in the meantime, I suggest you use the next two days to acclimate yourself to Asheville and relax. I’m sure Elyan can help with finding your way around,” said Thomas.
Seth sat back, looking from Thomas to Edward and back to Thomas. He smiled, despite his fears and anxieties.
“I’m really doing this?”
“Yes. It’s time for you to find your place in the world,” replied Thomas.
A thought occurred to Seth, one that would sound crazy in other situations. He leaned forward, looking at Thomas seriously.
“You haven’t gone to my future to see how everything plays out, have you?”
Thomas laughed, shaking his head. “No, Seth, I’ve not traveled into your future, and just so you know, it only happened that one time.”
Seth didn’t stay in the cottage over the weekend, instead, he stayed with Elyan, coming back on Sunday for a late brunch. The next morning, he packed up and headed north, back to the city. The long drive let him think, to consider the scenarios and possibilities. The conversations with Elyan played over and over, and he smiled at the way Elyan stammered when asking him to hurry back and he’d help him find a place to live. It would be about a month, and he’d be back, starting a new life, one influenced by Thomas, as he once influenced him.
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