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Coming soon: The city of rossford

C

ChrisGibson

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COMING SOON THE CITY OF ROSSFORD

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t? Because… I heard that you said she deserved to get raped.”
Janet seemed to be deciding something, and then she said, “Look. You wouldn’t have been there. The only girl in a bunch of boys. You know where to go and where not to. And most of those boys are decent. Like that one Russell. Stays with his brother. And Kip Danley.”
“Kip Danley?”
“Yes. He’s a good guy, like my boyfriend was. Kip’s the only one who’s not been suspended, but he’s going to end up in court with the rest of them just because your bitch of a friend—”
“You need to stop,” Meredith said, calmly. “Before we have a fight, you really just need to sort of shut the fuck up.”
@@@@@@@@@@


SCARED

Guys, I’m scared.
It’s your little Casey here, and you know I’ve done some wild shit in the past. Hell, I do wild shit everyday, and you get online and watch it. But when it comes to love: that’s the real wild shit. I’ve had all sorts of relationships. With coked out pornstars, with drug dealers I knew were drug dealers though I tried to ignore the truth. Two serious relationships that still make me sad when I think about the way they ended, one of those with a guy in the clergy. But you know all about that.
Well, anyway, all I can write here—

There was a knock at the door. No one else was at the house today to answer it.
“Here I come,” Casey shouted. He turned back to the laptop and typed:

“All I can write here is that this is the strangest, most forbidden thing I’ve ever been in, and I hope to God no one gets hurt.”

He hit the enter key. He felt a little better writing that. It was almost like saying it outloud. He got up and went down the hall to open the door. And then he blinked in amazement.
He stood there and whispered: “Keith?”


@@@@@@@@@@@@

When the knock at the door came, Keith’s heart trembled. It was knocking hard at his chest and his foot was doing that tapping thing. He put down the rosary, looked around his room and then left. He came down the hall, trying to be quick, but not before another knock came. And then he opened the door.
There he stood, tall, despite the cold, his jacket off so you could see his chest through his wife beater and the fine muscles of his tattooed arms. He had bright blue eyes, a wicked smile and a baseball cap turned backward as he chewed on his gum.
“You’re Keith?” he said, coming into the little house while Keith shut the door behind him.
“Yeah,” Keith said, nervously.
“I think I remember you. I remember you from a while ago. You still look good, man. I’m Logan.”
Keith thought he should be less nervous. After all, he used to do stuff like this all the time.
“Well… great,” Keith McDonald said.
“Yeah,” Logan agreed, slipping his jacket on the floor. “I don’t usually get to mix business with pleasure.”
 
LOGAN

Chay went to work for Casey’s studio the next year. Noah said little, but Chay knew his father wasn’t happy. Sheridan had gotten his license and driven Chay there one morning. As he was leaving, Chay, on the porch, watched him depart and Logan, who was an escort said, “I see you looking at him.”
“What’s that?”
“I bet he kissed you once, let you kiss him. And then nothing else ever happened again.”
Chay tried not to look surprised.
“Everyone thinks they have an original story,” Logan explained.
“He kissed you. You’re waiting for it to happen again. You’re waiting for something more.”
It was early autumn, still warm, and Logan had a little tattoo at the bottom of his stomach. He never wore a shirt at the studio. He folded his arms over his beautiful chest and stated, flatly:
“That kid’ll never let you suck his dick.”
“I don’t want—”
“When I was much younger,” Logan said, even though he could have only been twenty-one then, “I had a friend that used to take advantage of me being gay. I never thought that it made him gay too. He was always wanting to do this, to do that. Letting me kiss him, then letting me blow him. Then being kind enough to fuck me. I never even stopped to think I might be a tool. It took a long time for me to learn how to feel stupid.”
Chay didn’t say anything and, at last, Logan said, “What I’m saying is this: that guy cares about you. He’s never going to use you. And that’s why you’re never going to get more than that kiss.”


@@@@@@@@@@

“I need you to come with me,” Logan said one night when Chay was at the house.
“Okay?”
Logan was well muscled and his arms were tattooed, but there was something about him that reminded Chay of the weedy boy who had been beaten up at school and called a faggot. Maybe it was because his father was the same way. That was the link between him and Logan.
“It’s sort of a risky area I’m going to, and I want back up.”
“Risky?” Chay was about to say: “In Rossford?” but he knew how stupid that was. He just said, “Okay.”
“Don’t be worried,” Logan said, slipping on his black shades and sounding non-chalant. “You won’t be in any trouble. I’ll give you my tazer.”
“Your tazer?”
“You know what I do, right?” Logan said, a little impatiently, while he spiked his hair.
“Of course I do.”
“Well, then you know it’s not the safest thing in the world. And not necessarily in the safest places. But I’m safe as possible. And… I don’t plan to be a dead body on the six o clock news.”
Logan drove them out of town and across the river to the Wooden Indian Motel, which looked just as seedy as it sounded.
“Don’t worry,” Logan said, hugging him quickly as they stepped out of the car and walked across the asphalt, and then up the steps. “You’ve got that tazer on you. You’ll be alright. We both will.”
Chay just nodded, but before Logan knocked he said, “Look. We won’t even need it. I just… I like to be extra protected. This won’t take long,” he said, tenderly. “I promise.”
He knocked on the door and a man much too homely for Logan entered. But that’s when he remembered Logan was being paid. So there it was.
“Hello,” he said, letting Logan in, and raising his eyebrow at Chay.
“He’s my companion,” Logan said. “If you don’t mind.”
At the look on the man’s face, Logan added. “He’s not working with me. All you get is me.”


COMING SOON....
 
I love posting the snippets, and Eden has two chapters after this, so.... it's only a few days off.
 
THINK ABOUT IT, LAYLA....


These days Layla was dividing her living space between the home where her grandmother and great-grandmother stayed with Danasia, and Adele’s house, which was Simon’s house now too. It was the home she had grown up in, sure enough. And she had gone to Loretto so it was always near her. But after the brief stint in Chicago and then Tennessee, this seemed more like the home of her mother’s new marriage than of her childhood, and she was the hanger on, something from the old marriage. The house on Taylor Street was one with three generations of Houghton women all in need of a fair amount of personal space and it suited her better, so she stayed there more often. Lee and Tom were always in and out as well, and Julian and Claire lived right down the street, Dena and Milo around the corner, so this is where Dena dropped her off.
“You are my oldest friend,” Dena said.
“This means you’re about to start a speech.”
“You wanted to know if we were hiding something from you. Well, just our opinions.”
“Alright, then.”
“I think Aidan was a good boyfriend for a long time.”
“But now Aidan’s gone.”
“That’s right. And now Will’s back in town.”
“What?”
“Will’s back in town for Thanksgiving and—”
“And out again.”
“Yes,” Dena said. “But… you loved him. He was your love.”
“And?”
“I just don’t know that Kevin is.”
Layla felt that it was time for her to “go off”. She also felt that she would just be playing a part if she did “go off.”
“Claire got Julian and I got Milo and Brendan got Kenny, and… you can see it, we’re the loves of each others’ lives. And I want you to have the love of your life too.”
“Dena, you think just because I didn’t meet Kevin in high school, he can’t be the love of my life?”
“I don’t know,” Dena said. “All I know is that you should at least see Will before you decide to marry Kevin.”

THE CITY OF ROSSFORD, COMING SOON....
 
YOU THINK YOU KNOW

“Here we go,” Brendan said. He almost slipped in the icy slush as he came round the car to get Layla, then he balanced himself and offered his arm. They went up the snow covered sidewalk. The first store front window was empty of anything. The next boarded, the third had instruments but seemed to be closed and then here they were at the right shop, and when Brendan opened the door the bell jingled and heat came out and it was the first alive thing they’d seen in that part of town.
“Wow,” Brendan murmured, putting his hands in his pockets.
The main window was half curtained in paisley patterns and there were intricate rugs all over the floor. On stands and on shelves were thick candles, some tie dyed, some ivory colored, some shaped like globes. There were little tea candles in the walls and bags of herbs, shelves with Buddhas, racks of incense. Along the walls hung sheathed swords and on another wall were great tapestries, many with Celtic patterns, others with patterns Layla didn’t understand. There were reproductions of paintings she’d known from college, posters like Claire once had of Pre-Raphaelite girls, faces lit, maidens ringed about by fairies, witches swooning, Ophelia’s, hair sprayed out in the water.
“Hello!” a gentle voice spoke in Layla’s ear, and she jumped up in surprise.
The girl laughed, but she wasn’t a girl. She was something like thirty and she looked so much like Adele, that Layla knew this was her sister.
“Welcome,” she said. “This must be your first time.”
Layla nodded, and then remembered herself.
“Yes.”
“Well, feel free to look around,” she said.
Layla had imagined this woman in flowing robes, but now she saw it was only a flowing, shimmering scarf around her throat. She had wild, beautiful hair like no Houghton woman wore, and glasses hanging from a chain around her neck.
She added, “Feel free to do… whatever.”
Brendan laughed at this. It was a strange laugh, not mocking. More like relief, and Layla looked at him. He looked very different. He was holding a little green tea light in his hand and a stick of incense in the other.
“I haven’t felt free to do whatever in a long time is all,” Brendan said. Then, “It was sort of like you were giving me permission.”
The woman laughed then too, and she clapped her hands and Layla did the same.
“We’re alike,” she said. “My name is Caroline.”
“Layla,” said Layla. But Brendan said, “My sister’s name is Carol.”
Caroline looked from Layla to Brendan, her face smiling as if she could barely suppress her joy.
“You all are a beautiful couple.”
“Oh…” Layla said, startled. “We… I have a boyfriend. Brendan and I aren’t… boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“How could you be?” Caroline said. “He’s gay.”
Brendan blinked.
“Don’t worry,” Caroline said to him. “There’s nothing… gay about you. I know how you all feel in the Midwest. I just… I just know. There’s a beautiful boy with red hair beside you. He’s strong and handsome and he’s always with you.”
Brendan looked at her narrowly, his head turning, curious.
“But,” Caroline said to Layla, “that doesn’t mean the two of you aren’t very much a couple. He’s been your faithful friend since… since you all were children.”
“You can’t know all that,” Brendan said, keeping a check on his voice, feeling, actually, a little violated.
“I can,” she said. “But I don’t know how. I know what I know, and I used to think everyone was like me.”
Caroline shrugged.
“It took me a very long time to figure otherwise.”
Brendan said nothing.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she added.
Brendan shook his head.
“It’s alright,” he said. “It’s… we all want to believe so bad. And then when something out of the ordinary really does happen, we shut it down. His name is Kenny. The guy with the red hair. He… was out of the ordinary. Not in the plans. I shut him down once. I screwed a lot of things up.”
Caroline nodded, knowingly.
“I know what it’s like to not be like everyone else,” Brendan went on. “To say things you think everyone knows. Or feels, and then find out they’re wrong. Different.”
He added, pointing to Layla, while Caroline smiled: “So does she.”
“And me?” Layla said, almost desperately, “What do you see in me?”
“That you came to me for a reason.”
Layla waited, knowing she wasn’t finished.
“You think you know,” Caroline continued. “You think you know why you’re here. But you don’t.”

IT'S COMING....
 
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