Nights in White Satin

[ChrisGibson]

As we begin the concluding part of Geshcichte Falls, Russell and his friends return rrom Saint Albans, and everyone is getting ready for Winter Break...



ONE


THE BENEFITS OF BOYFRIENDS





The train pulled into Saint Gregory where Chayne and Rob were there to meet them ,and they drove back to the house on Curtain Street. Russell thought he would be full of stories, but he found that what he really was, was full of sleep. He dozed in his old room, which had been Rob’s room, which Rob no longer needed as his room. The snow had started to fall and the sky was cobalt blue. There was so much to get back to. What as going on with Gilead? He needed to see Jason, think of the things Jimmy had said about him. He needed, and was quite surprised to need this, to see his parents. He had only been gone the time of a long weekend, and yet he felt like he’d been gone so long and like it was good to be here.

“And I only went up to Walter. Maybe,” Russell reflected, “I’m not one of those people fit for world travel.”
The next morning he walked home, but Chayne and Rob walked the four blocks with him. He was now completely sure that his stunt about going off to the East Coast, aside from being unnecessary, was completely unbelievable, and he sort of wanted a friend’s support. But when he got there, though Patti kissed him on the cheek almost absent mindedly and Thom ruffled his hair and asked him how Saint Alban’s was, neither seemed to be terribly bothered about the whole thing. In fact, they were caught up in the gossip of the neighbors.

“Bill Dwyer is having an affair, but don’t tell anybody,” Patti said, serving Chayne a cup of coffee and pouring another for Rob.
“Well, that’s what I thought,” Chayne said, “but how do you know?”
“The health spa,” the two of them said together.
“He’s also smoking Niall’s pot,” Russell heard his mouth volunteer.
“What?” his parents looked at him.
“Before I left,” Russell said. “I saw it out my window. He was in the backyard getting behind a pine tree. And Niall’s been sure that Cameron is stealing his pot, and she’s like no, I wouldn’t do that. And she wouldn’t, and then it turns out it’s Bill.”
“Well, Billy Boy,” Thom flapped his newspaper as if it were wings and grinned.
“Well, Billy Boy, my ass,” Patti said, taking an orange from the bowl on the counter.
“He’s a flat out asshole.”
“I didn’t know Niall smoked pot,” Thom said, saying nothing about his car pool buddy.
“He sells it,” Russell said.
Patti and Thom’s eyes flew open.
“Oh,” Thom said.
Chayne chuckled darkly and looked at Thom.
“That shut you the fuck up, didn’t it?”


Christmas break had begun now, and after a little breakfast, Russell made his way three blocks down Breckinridge to the large house of Jason Lorry. The light was so bright, brighter than it had ever been on his way there, and as he looked at the many windows looking at him, for the first time he wondered about the other members of Jason’s family and if they would see him, or what they would think of him. He had never come through the front door, always walked to the gate and went around the back to what he thought of as the private entrance.

He did so today, only just beginning to feel the cold on his cheeks. He lifted the latch and walked along the house and around the back to tap on the door. His hand stopped before he knocked. He could not bear the idea of someone but Jason answering, someone who did not know him, someone saying Jason was not home. Later, it made no sense to him, but he turned the handle and went into the little dark hall, hearing the dog skitter to him and sniff his hand. No one was here. This was Jasons part of the house. The same was Russell had a room, Jason had a double room, a hallway and a back entry. He rapped on Jason’s door. He could hear bad R and B music playing, well, he thought it was bad. Kids at school liked it. He rapped again. He knew he was there. He heard the music.
Russell turned the door handle. Jason could be sleeping, or what if something had fallen on him? Or if he had swallowed his tongue. Or… stop that.
Russell came into the first room with its Christmas lights and it smelled of Gonesh incense, too incensy really, and he went into Jason’s dark room, where the boy he loved was asleep,
Because he did not expect it, he did not really see it, not at first. The darkness only helped this alittle. By the time things had resolved themselves, she was screaming, and Jason was looking almost comically horrified. Russell was backing out of the room his face hot. It wasn’t really until he was running down Breckinridge back home, reminding himself not to get hit as he crossed Archer, that he saw, clearly branded, Jason on the edge of his bed, fucking the white girl whose legs were straddled around him, her head thrown back as his face, buried in her breast, lifted to look at him in horror.




“What a piece of shit!”
“Mark,” Gilead chided.
“No,” Mark shook his head. “Un unh. And why should you tell me not to say that?”
For the first time ever, Mark looked upset with Gilead, though, Gilead thought, the look was more for the thought of Jason Lorry.
As Russell had been running home, a car had stopped on Archer and Mark had called out from it, looking more serious than usual.
“You alright, Lewis?” he demanded, and Gilead had been in the passenger seat.
“God, I was getting ready to call you—” Russell began, but Mark had just said, “Hop in the back.”
They were on their way back to Gilead’s house from the mall and Russell tried to be social and ask how things were at the mall, but it was Mark who said, “Never mind all that, what’s going on with you?”
Russell wasn’t sure how much Mark or anyone else knew about his relationship with Jason, or how much they should know, but gradually, with Gilead’s help, he’d gotten it out, and now they were in Sharonda Story’s house on Riverview.
“If he felt that way he should have said something,” Mark was saying. “You can’t go sneaking around someone like that. It’s not right. It isn’t fair.”
Russell looked from Mark’s animated face, to Gilead’s calm one. Gilead seemed to be smiling, but not in a mocking way. How, Russell could not say. But at this moment, for some reason, he was envious of Gilead Story.
“I’ll be fine,” Russell said. “I just needed to tell someone. Someones.”
“Oh, I know you’ll be fine, Lewis,” Mark said. “You’re strong. You’re a real man is what you are. But you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
Mark seemed bigger than usual. He always wore short sleeves, though today he was in a tee shirt, and Russell was surprised by the size of his biceps. It looked like Mark could, if he wished to, do real damage. Outside he could hear the train whistle and he said, “I’d better go.”
“Go why? Go where?” Gilead said. “Besides, Mark brought you here, so he’ll have to drive you back.”
That wasn’t necessarily so, Russell decided not to point out. Geshichte Falls was a small town with a great public transit system and nothing was too far from anything. He felt that strange sense you sometimes had, of two friends who were opening up a space for him. He was not a third wheel, though Mark and Gilead had certainly turned into something. The something they were now was occupied with looking after him.
“I thought Mark was all jokes and track,” Russell said when Mark had gotten up to go to the bathroom and they had paused the movie they were watching.
“So had I but no,” Gilead returned. “He’s very fierce about something. Especially honesty. Loyalty. He’s very, very serious about loyalty.”
And though Gilead had tried to say this in a flat tone, there was a sort of pride in his voice.

WELCOME BACK! MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

Poor Russell, even though he did sneak into the house he got a nasty shock! I wonder what will happen with Jason? I know Russell has been with a few guys lately but this was a surprise. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow! Nice to have this story back again!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Now, this part was written before I added the whole affair with Flipper. It's still shocking, but if one thinks, and Russell is a thinker, he can't get too too mad. So that's going to have to be adjusted. I mean, both he and Jason and have been doing extra curricular stuff

 

[ChrisGibson]

TODAY, WE'RE MAINLY ABOUT THE DWYERS

DENA DWYER REALIZED THIS was not one of the days she wanted to see her sister-in-law. For a winter day it had been warm and sunny and bright—all the good stuff that should make someone want to enjoy a day, but Dena admitted to herself it hardly mattered. And everything Lee did, the number of cigarettes she smoked, how frizzy her hair was, how high pitched her laugh—it was all a lightning rod for Dena’s ire that morning. And the worst part of it was that Dena had that sort of anger never bold enough to loose itself openly, and so the lightning kept striking within.
Now the bolts were giving her a migraine.
“And so Mom calls last night,” Lee was going on, “and she wants us all to come down to Idlewile this weekend, hang out at the house. It’ll be a family event.”
Dena nodded. She said nothing. Her mouth was a little open. Lee thought her stare was a bit rude. Dena kept her thoughts to herself—except for in her weekly appointments with Patti Lewis, where she was just beginning to learn how to form words and use them for the purpose of communicating.
“Sure,” Dena said.
“Are you alright, Deen?”
“Never better,” Dena, cup of tea in hands, returned from the gas range, turning to make sure it was off and then sitting at the kitchen table across from her sister-in-law.
“The kids can all go camping,” Lee said.
“They’re too old, Lee.” Dena said in a tone as if to indicate—and any idiot would know this.
“Oh, now, silly,” Lee threw back her head and clapped her hands in the way that annoyed the hell out of Dena. “You’re never to old for camping. Me and Bill used to do it even when he went to college.”
“Really?”
This had been news to her.
“Um hum.”
“I can’t wait till Bill gets home so we can tell him about the big trip this weekend. Dave’s really excited.”
“Well,” Dena lifted the tea bag from her cup with a spoon,”you’ll have to wait really late because Bill’s going to his fancy club... His spa thing. He even asked me if I wanted to join.”
“And you said?”
“And I said no,” Dena said rather sharply, as if Lee should have known better.
“Maybe...” Lee started. Then for once she had the wisdom to shut up and reached for another cigarette. But the wisdom came too late and Dena said, “Maybe what?”
Lee raised her eyebrows. She didn’t really have any. They were short triangles.
“Maybe,” Lee said now, quiet. “that’s why he’s so sad.”


“You asked her if she wanted to be a member of the spa, too?” Lynn sat up and bed and slapped Bill on his side.
He couldn’t help chuckling.
“I had to,” he told her, his head half buried in the pillow. He lay on his side tracing circles in the warm spot where she had lain. “It would have... It would have seemed just too suspicious if I hadn’t asked her to join... or… something.”
“And?” Lynn said.
Now Bill sat up beside her.
“And she said no,” he told Lynn. “Trust me. If I know anything I know my wife and the great lengths she’ll go through to avoid a good time.”
The two of them sat up in bed for a while. Then Lynn reached over and pushed back a bit of Bill’s ginger colored hair from his face.
“You’re getting to be devious in your old age,” she told him.

When Dena answered the phone it was that Sonia again. This was how she thought of Niall’s little friend. That Sonia. nice enough, but even Dena could see that the niceness was an act.
“Mrs. Dwyer, is Niall at home?”
“He is. I’ll be right back.”
Heading up the stairs to tap on Niall’s door, Dena reflected that her niceness was an act as well.
“Yeah, Mom,” said Niall at the knock on the door.
“It’s Sonia.”
“Awright,” he said on the other side of the door, “I’ll take it in here.”
Niall got up off the bed where he’d been counting dime bags all lined up on his mattress, and stashing away about two hundred dollars that was going toward something vague in the future.
“Hey, Sonia.”
“Has your mom hung up the phone?” she sounded as if she were on some covert mission.
“Yeah.”
“Niall, check.”
“Mom!” Niall said. There was no answer.
“Yeah, Sonia, she’s hung up.”
Niall started to fiddle with his goatee. What was up with her?
“Ni-alllll,” she started, her voice breaking, and then Sonia, usually so calm and often so cold broke down into sobs.
“Sonia,” Niall started, turning cold where he wasn’t turning tingly.
“Oh, Niall!” she kept weeping.
“Oh, God,” Niall said at once. There was such a fear in him the missing dime bag scarcely mattered, “you’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
Sonia sniffed and sobbed a little bit and then, sucking in snot said, “I think so.”


Niall could tell by the thump that it was Cameron at the door.
He opened and she said, “You can stop blaming me for your disappearing... business.”
She dropped a dime bag on her brother’s bed, “And blame yourself for slipping. It’s a good thing Mom and Dad didn’t find it and I did.”
Cameron now noticed that Niall seemed only vaguely concerned with the bag he was putting on the bed. His eyes were focused somewhere else, but he shook his head and said, “It’s not possible... It’s not possible. I bring it into the house and into my room and that’s it.”
“Well,” said Cameron. “You left this in the study.”
“Sorry, Cam,” Niall still seemed only half there. “Sorry. Say, can you do me a favor?”
“Probably.”
“I need to go to the drug store. Can you give me a ride?”
“Whaddo you need?”
Niall shook his head and put on a smile that did not convince his sister. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get it my self... Later. Awright.”
“Niall, if it bothers you that much then I won’t ask any questions. We’ll just go. Alright?”
Niall nodded, “Let me get my money, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Cameron nodded. She had promised not to ask about it, but now she was sure with all the instinct of someone past twelve that it had to be about sex.



They stood in the empty living room of the Cormorant house on Keyworthy Street. The lights were out except for the one that shone from the kitchen, and the other one from the bathroom. Snow fell, saying Christmas would soon be here and everything was going to be alright, but for the first time Niall Dwyer understood that weather lies.
“Read the directions again,” Niall pleaded.
“Niall,” Sonia’s voice was half angry, half desperate, “if I read the directions a thousand times they’ll still say the same thing.”
They stood there a little while longer. The thunder boomed again. Niall’s heart was thundering in his ears.
Sonia said, “Niall, I’m scared.”
Niall bit his lip, nodded and clasped her hand tighter.


Bill Dwyer had already decided not to make an excuse and tell Dena he couldn’t get home because of the snow. It had seemed flimsy and transparent. Now, on the road through Fort Atkins, only half blinded by snow, he thought he’d been a fool. The excuse could have very well been true. And this drive in the dark had twice nearly caused his demise. A semi had nearly side swiped him and then he’d almost gone off the road.
When Bill got home that night, the light was on in the kitchen, and the whole family was there. For a moment he had the ludicrous idea that they had found out about Lynn and it was now time for a group pow wow. But no, as he stepped in the door and his brother-in-law looked up, they were all laughing. Even Dena.
“Hey, Bill.”
“Hi, Big Brother!”
Dena was the last to speak, “Hey honey,” she murmured. Bill went into the hall, to hang his things up and came back into the kitchen. Lee had put tea on.
“We’re all making a pilgrimage this weekend,” David said.
Bill cocked his head at the tall, bespectacled man.
“I think Dave’s being a little more dramatic about it than it really is,” said Dena. “Lee decided we should all go up to the house in Idlewile for Christmas.”
“How’s that sound?” Lee said.
“Sounds like you already made the plan without me,” Bill was aware of how hard he smiled to keep the resentment out of his face.
“Grandma’s going to take me through the forest paths,” Dave Jr. announced. “It’s gonna be great, right, Dad?”
“Bill wondered why he didn’t have this kind of relationship with Niall.
“It could be great, indeed,” Dave agreed with his son. “It might be an epiphany.”
The tea kettle whistled shrilly.
“Hardly an epiphany,” Dena said, her eyes full of mock scorn for her younger brother.
“It could change our whole lives,” said Dave, who was big on life changing. “A lot can happen in one little weekend.”


IS DAVE'S WHOLE LIFE ABOUT TO CHANGE? SOMEONE'S PROBABLY IS. TUNE IN TOMORROW NIGHT AND SEE!

 

[CharmedFan28]

Wow I feel so sad for Dena. She has no idea what Bill has really been up to. I hope Dave’s life does change. I wonder if Sonia is actually pregnant? I will have to wait and see. This was a great portion and I look forward to reading what happens tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Dena really is a pitiable and unhappy creature, and Dave is certainly eternally hopeful. The Lewises neighbors are definitely going through some stuff right now, and we'll see if Sonia is pregnant or not, not that the Dwyers don't have enough to deal with at the moment. And to think, we didn't even get any Cameron in this chapter.

 

[ChrisGibson]

FAYE AND CHUCK MAKE A MOVE, BUT RUSSELL MAKES A BIGGER ONE


“I can’t believe you brought me here!” Faye said as she and Chuck came into the Blue Jewell.
“Well, you and Chayne love this place.”
“But you don’t.”
Chuck looked around the loud bar and said, “It’s not that I don’t like it... It’s out of the way. I think I may have been here once.”
“What are yawl standing around for?” Jewell shouted from the bar, a towel over her shoulder. “Read this sign.”
She finished pouring a beer, sent it sailing across the bar toward the very Tim Emery who had—not so long ago—driven two priests into the middle of a cornfield and left them there, far from civilization.
Faye laughed, Chuck read it aloud: “SEAT YOUR OWN GODDAMNED SELF.”
As they paid heed to the notice and found a table in the corner, “Jewell shouted, “I’ll be with you soon.”
“Honey,” she said to Faye when she got to the table,“you don’t know what it’s liketo be on the wrong side of thirty-five with a baby.”
“Maybe one day we’ll find out,” Chuck said.
“A man can always afford to say that,” Jewell said casting Chuck a look of scorn,. “If it’s not the baby wanting one thing, it’s Tim wanting another, and all my back wants to do is lie down. Now enough of my private bullshit. What can I get you?”
“What do you have that’s...” Chuck looked for the right word, “special.”
“Look around,” Jewell said. There were hillbilies and factory workers swilling beer, neon signs that read Michelob and blue neon guitars. “A burger is special around here.”
“Give us the most special burger you have,” Faye said. “and the most special beer you can find.”
“I like you Faye,” Jewell said. “Yawl want chips or fires?”
Chuck said fries, Faye said chips, Jewell went away.
When the beers came Faye started to tell Chuck stories about everyone in the place, Ann Ford who was engaged to the guitarists on stage, Will Shuster who worked at the old mill out near Thompson Road and Hannah who played organ in church. Shannon, her husband Bill and her uncle who had come to down last year—a rabbi—to perform Jackie Lewis’s wedding at Saint Adjeanet’s.
“You know more about this town than I do,” Chuck marveled.
Faye shrugged. “I’m a psychologist.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I don’t know,” Faye shrugged. “It’s just nice to say. I think it’s a valid reason for anything. I just always shrug and say, I’m a psychologist.”
Chuck grinned and touched Faye’s cheek. She softened then.
“I love your eyes,” he told her tenderly, and then he swigged from his beer and suddenly hs eyes went wide and so did Faye’s.
Chuck began to gasp and Faye came up behind him, attempting the Heimlich. Big eared Bill Hall came away from the table where he sat with Shannon, and thumped Chuck. Chuck gagged, and coughed, and out of his mouth and onto the floor landed a golden ring.
While Bill was still clapping Chuck Shrader on the back, he looked up at Faye and then down at the ring.
“It didn’t go completely according to plan,” she confessed. “But that was my way of asking if you’d marry me?”




There was a knock on his door, and Russell was sure that this was one of his parents, probably Thom. But he wished it was Jason. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted Jason to come and make sense of this. He had been trying to make sense of it all day. He waited until the second knock, and the decided he was being rude. The sense that had not come all day was not about to come in the space between the next knock.
He opened it and Ralph was standing there, his wide hazel eyes worried, his tawny hair that he was so careful with, parted and partially out of his face. He smelled like he’d just showered and he was in joggers and tee shirt and a parka.
“Russ, Jason called me and told me to come over. He said something had…”
Ralph stopped talking, his eyes searching Russell.
“I know we’ve been weird,” Ralph said. “You and me. That’s my fault. I’m sorry. But… please talk to me Russ. Say something. What’s going on in your head?”
Russell looked, to Ralph, injured. He’d never seen Russell Lewis look injured, yes, he had tried to injure him, or tried to test him, but he was sure that Russell was unbreakable and, above all kids except maybe Gilead Story, unconfoundable. But Russell looked both, and Ralph wanted to hug him except he wasn’t a hugger. He wasn’t sure what he was. And Russell reached behind Ralph and locked the door. He looked very desperate, like he was about to do something that he wasn’t sure about, and then all in a moment his hands reached for Ralph’s waistband, and he pulled down his joggers and Ralph wasn’t wearing underwear and so Russell got on his knees and began to suck him.
Ralph’s eyes went wide, and then he closed them, gasping. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He leaned back against the door, not knowing what to do with his hands. At last, as he felt Russell’s hands on his hips, reaching back to cup his ass, Ralphs hands buried themselves in Russell’s hair. He blinked once, seeing the great windows of the room with curtains open, wondering if anyone could see, not caring as he felt himself getting longer and firmer, felt himself becoming his cock, felt Russell’s tongue, his mouth so warm, bathing him like he was a baby, sucking him like he was nurse.

Ralph didn’t think about things. He didn’t know how. Feelings frightened him and doubts he put out of his mind. He knew what he wanted and what he didn’t and these things usually happened in the moment. Now and again he could screw up his wits and his courage to come to a great purpose and make an important statement. Mostly he did not have to. Friendships were few in his life. School was made of buddies. He cared about Jason, but especially cared about Russell and when Jason had called him up shaken and a mess, Ralph imagined—as much as he imagined anything—Jason twisting the phone cord as he spoke, and he knew he had to go to Russell for whatever had happened. Russell had been gone the first two times Ralph called, presumably with Gilead and right now he had found him, sure from the look on his parents’ faces that they had no idea what was going on in their son’s life. But then, what parents did?
So, when he and Russell undressed, except for closing the curtains and turning off the large light, there was no thinking, and Russell had done those things, so no thinking on Ralph’s part at all. Ralph was baited breath, one hundred seventy pounds of varsity football player, tan skinned, sandy haired, broad shouldered, pretty in a bruiser way. Ralph was the desire for someone he’d cared for more, much more than he could ever say, and a penis, thick and rose headed pointing forward like a compass. He half stumbled after Russell, climbing onto the bed and he had done this before, done it with Cody, learned to lift legs, learned to lube the knob of the cock, learned to, oh God, slowly and with a slow grit, push, push, enter, learned the moment of mutual shock, and then, slowly, slowly, quicker now the fucking, the kissing, the kissing, the hands planted on shoulders, the legs encasing him the being the possessed, the possessing.

Fucking girls was different. All fucking was wrong, a sin, but fucking girls made him feel safe. It was easy. They were available. It confirmed something, but he wasn’t sure what the something is, and maybe Russell could have told him because his mom was a shrink. But fucking guys, or at least fucking Cody had been something else altogether. It had been urgent, more…. Maybe more real. Certainly more unsafe. He had felt completely unsafe, completely like he didn’t know who he was anymore, but also completely more real, alive in… ecstasy was the fancy word for it.
And fucking Russell, the urgent, but completely coordinated movements they made on this bed, was another thing from that. It was nothing like Vanessa or that girl on the football field. It was all of him. It was every goddamn thing he wanted. He didn’t want to come. He told himself he was kind of a slut for knowing how not to come, for knowing how to do this so well, how to please Russell. Oh, God, how he wanted to please him, He couldn’t talk to anyone about this, couldn’t even talk to himself, but this didn’t feel like a sin. This felt like the best thing ever. This felt like nothing else mattered. When he swore and said what he knew was silly…
“You like this… you like me inside you…. You like old Ralph in you… You like my cock in you… you like this dick? Like like it. You like the way I fuck? You like how I kiss you… Kiss me…. take that… Take…. That…
His heart and his cock swelled when Russell answered that he did love it, when he knew he wanted Russell to fuck him.

“Are you leaving?” Russell asked.
“Do you… “ Ralph’s voice cracked. It was dry. He was tired. “Do you want me to.?”
“No!” Russell must have sounded more desperate than he knew. “No…”
Russell didn’t always know how to speak either, didn’t know how to say he’d always wanted Ralph to stay. Didn’t know how to say that this moment when he and Ralph were almost the same thing, were legs and arms together, and chests together was… Well, there was no comparison to what it was, so Russell just said, “No… I don’t.”
Uncharacteriscally, but then this whole thing was uncharacteristic, Ralph kissed Russell on his forehead.
“Please stay.”
“I can do that.”
Ralph pulled Russell to him. Russell let himself feel weak in the arms of someone he could have barely trusted a year ago, let himself feel weak and protected when he never let that happen.
“Don’t you want to know…. What happened?”
“With Jason?”
“Yeah.”
Ralph was stroking him, holding him the way he wanted to be held.
“Not really,” Ralph said. “Unless you want to tell me.”
“No,” Russell said. “I…. I just want this.”
Ralph looked at Russell frankly. His eyes were wide and serious and he said.
“I always loved you, Russ.”
And then Ralph reached behind him and turned off the light.

MORE IN A COUPLE OF NIGHTS

 

[CharmedFan28]

Well Chuck and Faye did make a big move. It almost ended badly but came out ok in the end. Russell made a move too and I am happy for him and Ralph. I wonder what Jason is going to think and end up doing? It’s going to be very interesting. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, I think all we can say for sure is that Faye and Chuck are getting married. As for Russell, well, we'll see into that later.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Orangutans are skeptical of changes in their cages
And the zoo keeper is very fond of rum.
Zebras are reactionaries,
Antelopes are missionaries.
Pigeons plot in secrecy
And hamsters turn on frequently.
What a gas you got to come and see
At the zoo!”

Brad and Nehru sang!

“At the zoo!”

They sang with so much passion and Nehru leaned back against Cody as his fingers trilled across the guitar. Marissa envied the three of them. The closeness. In her life she had Marcia, and as they sang the end of the Simon and Garfunkel song, and Brad and Nehru’s voices rose up in a roar, Marissa remembered the night before..



The snow was falling thick outside. On 123 Indragal Road, Brad Long was stretched out on the sofa in the living room.
“I mean, even if it was something like 345, or 678 that wouldn’t be nearly as neat, ya know, but 123 is the best address in the world.”
He was talking to himself while strumming his guitar. He stopped and began trying to turn the words on paper into a song. He had so far, a good first verse. He thought it was a good melody. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t sung well. Nehru would be the one to sing it.
“Brad!” Marissa shouted from the bathroom.
“Huh?”
He stopped playing and turned his head. Marissa came out.
“Brad—” she held out something.
“What is this?”
“You know exactly what it is.”
Brad nodded, a little dumbfounded.
“I can’t translate though,” he said.
“Well I can,”: Marissa lifted the stick to her face as if examining a piece of evidence—which, in a way, she was.
“It says I’m pregnant.”
“I thought we knew that.”
“But I wanted to confirm it.”
There had been something missing. Something not there, or either, she thought, as she saw Brad in his snug jeans and fitted tee shirt, leaning into Nehru, something between them.
When she saw them twisting and turning, guitars and voices melding, she remembered nights in bed with Brad, how he was the most careful lover, the most intense lover. He hit all the right places, tasted her in just the right way, looked down in tenderness while he fucked her. Their bodies moved in rhythm as often had not been the case with lovers in the past, And yet… and yet…
As he smiled into Nehru’s face and Nehru turned away….
He doesn’t love me.

Now she realized…
“I don’t love him.

And on the stage, they had gotten quiet for a new song. And then Nehru started singing.




When Anigel arrived at Balusik’s, Ralph was running the shop and John and Caroline were gone.
“Well, that’s bullshit.”
“You should have called first,” Ralph said.
“Shut the fuck up,” she said negligently.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Hanging with Vanessa.”
“How’s Russell?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whaddo you mean, what’s that supposed to mean. He’s your friend, how is he? That’s what it’s supposed to mean?”
“He’s your friend too, so you should know.”
“Goddamn, you’re irritating sometimes,” Anigel.
“Yeah, well… Takes one to know one,” Ralph said to her departing back
“That shit didn’t even make any sense.”
“Where are you going?” Ralph demanded.
“On a goddamned walk.”
As the door to shop swung closed, Ralph realized, amongst many things, that had he played his cards right, he might have gotten Anigel to watch the store for him so he could leave. Well, it barely mattered, he decided in one of his more philosophical moods. He didn’t really want to go anywhere anyway. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He could put on a bright smile for someone coming to shop. By now he knew what he looked like, handsome in a Joe Football kind of way with a winning smile and good manners. Old ladies liked him. But he didn’t want to be bothered right now with Vanessa even. Or anyone… Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but… no matter.

Anigel thought a walk around the old neighborhood would take just long enough for Caroline and John to come back and for Ralph to get out of his attitude. Ralph was friends with Jason. Russell hadn’t brought up Jason. She didn’t remember Jason being all that. He was good looking, yes, but a boy of little brain. Russell needed brains. And what all were they doing? Surely not just holding hands.
She didn’t know anything about boys or men, or really women if she thought about it. Anigel stopped and told herself, I don’t really know shit about sex. It was embarrassing. She was too old to be this dumb.
When she reached Nassau, the bells of Saint Celestine’s were ringing. Bong, bong, bong, not crying out insistently, just letting you know they were there. Anigel waited for the cars to pass, crossed Nassau and went up the steps. She’d grown up in this church. She didn’t need to rely on the inadequate lighting, the gold and red glare coming from the grottoes of the little chapels.
She made her way to the Blessed Virgin and lit a candle. She did not pay and did not feel bad for it.
“I feel,” she said at last to the woman’s face. “that some people might need this. I don’t know who,” she said lightning another candle, “but I feel like there are people out there... Who could be carried on a prayer... even one like mine. You know, Mary?”
Her face seemed to say that she did know.





Russell is not a journal person. He feels like a foolish person, someone who is bent on making bad choices lately. It has been nearly a day and a half since it happened, If it wasn’t days before Christmas, there would have been more light in this room. But then, even with the curtain open, Russell could barely see Ralph dress, barely sees him standing in the middle of the room pulling on his jogging pants, tee shirt, covering up his naked body, the body that’s clung to him all night. Everything is different. Ralph, bent over now, the weak light making an aureole of the bit of hair in his face, kissed him last night. Ralph’s tongue was inside of him. Ralph was inside of him. Ralph told him he loved him. Ralph held him all night, called him baby even. He let Ralph. He wanted him to.
“Where are you going?” he says.
Ralph reaches for his keys and drops them in his parka pocket.
“Home. I’ve been gone all night.”
“But didn’t your parents…? Are they going to worry? I mean, if you’ve been gone all night… does going home at…”
Russell blinked at looked at the clock, “Six forty five matter?”
Russell was about to ask if he had even intended to wake him up, but he didn’t like the way that sounded. Ralph sat on the bed, looking, like a grown up. His face sincere.
“Russ.”
Russell felt like he was going to hate was Ralph was about to say. He could still feel Ralph inside of him, still feel his touch, see that same look while Ralph had made love to him. He smelled Ralph Balusik in these sheets.
“Russ, I will always care… No, scratch that… I love you. Okay. I love you, but… This can’t ever happen again.”
Russell sat up and Ralph said, “It can’t happen again and… I’m going to need some space. For a while. Alright?”
Ralph looked like he was decided what to say and then he decided and as he stood up he said, “I… don’t want you to think you don’t matter to me. It’s just I don’t know who I am anymore, so… I need space.”
Ralph shrugged, and turned his back to Russell. Lifting his hood, he opened the door and closed it behind him.


MORE NEXT WEEK

 

[CharmedFan28]

So Marissa doesn’t love Brad? That is very interesting. Good to hear more from Anigel. Seems like Russell is still having boy trouble. I don’t know how things are going to end up for him but I look forward to finding out. Great writing and I look forward to more next week!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I doubt Marissa hates Brad, but I think she knows she isn't in love with him and what she feels isn't enough. And of course, she may feel that what he feels for her isn't enough either. Russell, who has taken to having sex with one person to sort out his sexual issues with another is, of course, definitely in trouble. Even if Ralph wasn't quite so unformed, Russell would still be in trouble.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Justine Barnard crushed out her last cigarette.
“Jilly, honey, when you gonna invite that Shane over?”
Jill, who was sitting on the legless sofa in the barren living room, looked up from her magazine and said, “Huh?”
“Don’t be deaf with me, missy? When are you gonna invite this Shane over?”
“I hadn’t intended to.”
“Are you ashamed of the house we live in?”
Jill hadn’t thought about it but now, looking around, she had to honestly answer yes. so she chose not to answer at all.
“I saw that look in your eyes, jilly. Your father used to give me that look.”
“I have Max Barnard’s eyes?”
“Yes you do. And his height. He made you pretty.”
“So he really was my father?”
“Is,” said Justine, taking out another cigarette. “Wherever the hell he is. Of course he’s your father... Why wouldn’t he be?”
“He just said that he wasn’t was all,” Jill explained.
Pausing on lighting her cigarette, Justine cocked her head. “You remember all that?”
Jill nodded her head. Outside there was thunder. There would be a storm tonight.
“He said I was no daughter of his.”
“Well the son of a bitch lied,” his ex-wife said. Then, “But no. Invite him over for dinner. Saturday night good?”
“I guess so.”
“I’ll even cook. What’ll you wear?”
“Ma, how should I know. It’s not till the weekend. What’ll you wear?”
“Jogging pants.”
“Mother!”
“Just kidding.”
Jill went back to flipping through Cosmopolitan and the article about ten new ways to pleasure a man and extend his orgasms
Justine said, “I’ll just wear my panties.”




“Well, I’m just going to ask,” Chayne said four days before Christmas, “What the hell is going on?”
“What?” Russell said.
“Don’t what me? What the hell is going on? You moping around. I bet your parents don’t ask. But I’m going to ask. What’s going on?”
“I…” Russell began, and then he stopped and said, “It’s a long story than I know how to explain.
Gilead Story blew out his cheeks and said, “Well, damn it, I’ll explain it.”
“Gil!” Russell came the closest to snapping he ever did, but Anigel had pulled up a chair and Chayne said, firmly:
“I’m done with this shit. Gilead, explain.”
And when he finally had, Anigel said, “Well, that’s why Ralph was in such a mood when I saw him.”
“When did you see him?” Russell said.
“He’s my brother in law…. Sort of. He’s at the store.”
“Right now?” Gilead stood up.
“Are you going to do something?” Anigel demanded.
“Not if you don’t drive me.”
“Gilead isn’t going to do anything,” Russell said.
“Come on!” Gilead said.
“No,” Russell said. “No.”


When Cody swung by 1735 Breckinridge Avenue, he was on a mission for Jill.
“She insists that I have you and Russell,” said Cody. “Or at least you. We’re all bringing guests. It’s this Saturday night.”
Thom was surprisingly easy. Cody was not used to people just saying yes.
“I’m sure Russell’ll be glad to come too,” Thom told Cody. “Anything to help Jill out of an awkward situation.”
“The awkward situation’s my mom,” Cody said.
“I know, I’ve got an awkward situation of my own living in Fort Atkins.”
“Do they get better with age?”
“No. Not really.”
They both grinned and took out cigarettes at the same time and then laughed again.
“Thom, I really appreciate this,” Cody said, and Thom looked at him strangely.
“Cody, I already said it’s no problem. You know it isn’t.”
“I know,” Cody said. He was about to go on. But he couldn’t explain. He felt a little bit like he wanted to cry. Which was ridiculous because he was happy right now. But he couldn’t really say why.


“Got a minute?” Lee Armstrong stuck her head into her brother’s bedroom.
“Yeah, Lee, what is it?” He was changing. He pulled on his old basketball shorts and a tee shirt.
“We just haven’t talked in a long time is all.”
“No,” Bill looked a little preoccupied. “I guess not. Whaddo you wanna talk about?”
“Nothing,” Lee said. “I wanted to know if you wanted to talk? About anything?”
The hairs rose on Bill’s neck and he said, “Why?”
“Because you haven’t been like yourself lately is all. Me and David were saying the same thing. Bill, if you need us we love you. I’m your sister.”
She came and touched him on the hand. “Remember back home when we used to take those long walks through the woods and you would tell me everything? That’s how I learned about Dena.”
Bill was quiet, nodding, letting Lee talk as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“And you were always my hero. I think you still are. My big brother. And now my big brother is on the same street I am, and I haven’t even really talked to him. And I just want to know how he is.”
Bill hugged Lee and kissed her on the top of her frizzy head. “He’s fine,” he murmured and pressed on a smile.
She embraced him. The smile on Lee Armstrong;s face was so warm and full of life, it was so trusting. For the first time he felt awful about lying to her. and in her embrace he felt trapped. He desperately needed someone to talk to.
Bill Dwyer wondered if all men were this lonely.

Niall Dwyer was immediately confronted with the question of what to do now. It was not a question for eventual marriage or against it. There would be no marriage at any time… Probably, there would be no marriage at any time. The question was how many people would know about the baby? Would this remain a private thing? Would life go on as it had before with no one really knowing there had ever been a child?
“What do we do?” they kept on asking each other as they went through the park, all around Keyworthy, stalked around their mutual houses. No one could tell they were distraught or frightened. They looked like themselves. They looked like teenagers.
“I don’t want a baby,” Sonia kept saying.
So the song went with the chorus, “What do we do?” and the verses, “I don’t want to have a baby. I don’t want this baby. I’m too young. i didn’t mean for it to happen. This will effect the rest of our lives,” followed.
Niall added no verses to the song. He did not feel he had the right to. He remained silent while Sonia kept up the dirge for three days. Niall did not know what he hoped, or what he feared. He made himself numb and ironically enough he did not touch any drugs that whole time.
Thursday afternoon, when he got home from school, cutting out of dance class today, he walked around the house and wandered into his father’s study. It made him a little afraid to be in the high ceilinged, panel walled room with its large chair in front of the desk. This was his father’s chair, not to be shared. He could imagine his father walking in and giving him a cruel eye. Then he would have to hop up or apologize or duck his eyes. But no, Dad wouldn’t be back until at least six thirty, and this must have been one of his spa nights.
So Niall sat down in the chair and began absent mindedly fiddling around.
The same time he opened the desk drawer and his eyes widened to see, in need rolls several bags of his own marijuana, the phone rang.
“Hello,” Niall said in a vacant tone.
“It’s me,” said Sonia. “I need you to take me to the clinic tomorrow. Okay?”



After being fed by Caroline and John, Ralph felt like the afternoon had more than made up for itself and he told John he’d close up. Close up wasn’t for another half hour, but it was still a surprise when, at this time of night, in winter, in Little Poland, a car rolled up, and a nice car. He knew that car and as the door jingled and swung open, and Ralph saw Gilead Story in a black overcoat—of course in an overcoat—enter, he realized it was Mark Young’s car.
“So,” Gilead began, “I’m interfering.”
Ralph scowled and looked around the store, at the rows of Fruit Loops and the dairy aisle with its fluorescent lights.
“How much do you know?” Ralph said.
“I know everything.”
“Fuck.”
Then Ralph said, “Of course you know everything. You always know everything.”
“I know I’m interfering. But… I have a feeling if things were on the other foot, Russell would interfere.”
“Yeah,” Ralph nodded, biting his lower lip. “He would.”
“I could ask questions, but I think I know already.”
“What questions?”
“Why you stayed away from Russell ever since Anigel’s sister had her baby. But I think that’s because you had a thing with Cody.”
“You know about that!”
“I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah. You fucking know everything.”
“And you all are supposed to be friends, and then you go over and—”
“I didn’t expect that to happen,” Ralph said in a voice very much like someone in his brother’s store who didn’t want to be heard.
“I never expect things to happen. Russ…. He started it. I didn’t stop it. I… I didn’t want to. But…”
“You got up and left. You walked away and you haven’t talked to him since. And after Jason—”
“I’m not fucking Jason. He’s not even around. And he’s not going to be around. He’s a damn loser. I’m not him.”
“Well, whatever you are, the two of you have caused a lot of pain in his life for a while.”
“That wasn’t—“ Ralph caught himself and lowered his voice. “That wasn’t my intention. And…. Why the fuck is Mark driving you around to tell off? I never wanted to hurt Russ. I told him that. I told him how I feel. Before I left—”
“And ignored him?”
“Sure, Gil. Sure, fucking wise, know it all, Gilead. That’s what I did.”
“It is what you did and you can call me as many names as you want to and that doesn’t change.”
Neither one of them said a word, and Gilead said, “As long as I’m here, get my that pack of Carltons.”
Ralph, in his apron, turned to get it and Gilead said, “Help us out with that bottle of bourbon. I got cash.”
“I cannot sell you alcohol.”
“You cannot fuck my best friend and keep dating Vanessa Karinski, but you are.”
“You’re such a piece of shit,” Ralph said, with no real rancor and put the bottle of bourbon next to the cigarettes.
“That’s five.”
“It’s not. It’s more.”
“It’s five tonight.”
Ralph bagged the cigarettes and the bourbon and Gilead said, “Please do the right thing.”
“You’re so fucking nosey.”
“Russell’s family stays up late, There’s still time.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Merry Christmas, Ralph.”

MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion to come back to after the weekend! I am glad Gilead talked to Ralph about Russell. It needed to happen. And Sonia isn’t keeping the baby? Interesting. They are very young. Excellent writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, if Ralph needed a talking to, her certainly got it. I had thought of not posting,but decided to anyway. Gilead is outspoken as fuck and does not give a shit. Ralph probably wanted someone to talk to anyway. And it looks like Sonia is not evening thinking about keeping the baby.

 

[ChrisGibson]

AS WE END CHAPTER ONE, ANIGEL COMFORTS A LOST SOUL AND A SMALL STEP BETWEEN GILEAD AND MARK CAN LEAD TO GREAT THINGS


Anigel Reyes stood before the statue of the Blessed Mother, watching how the lights of the votives flickered across the Mother of God’s face. Her eyes seemed as if she knew what Anigel was going through and could only shake her head in sorrow over it. Or maybe it was a half smile, a sympathetic one. Anigel couldn’t tell.
She turned around and began walking down the side arcade. She looked and saw:
“Niall Dwyer?”
He looked up.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“I didn’t want to go to the one near my house,” he said. “Too many people. I just wanted to... sit. You know?”
“You don’t drive, do you?” Anigel asked, shifting her purse higher on her shoulder.
Niall shook his head. “I’m too young.”
“Well, how about you sit for a while and when you come out I’ll give you a ride back home? Alright. I’ll just go down the block and get the car.”
She didn’t give Niall a chance to protest. By the time he was through with sitting in the large odl church, he came out and the station wagon was ready.
“How old are you?” he asked Anigel.
“Twenty,” she told him.
“Do you... they always say that high school’s the best time in the world. Do you ever miss being a teenager?”
“Hell fuckin no.”
“But life get’s better?”
Anigel spared him a glance and said, “You got a problem?”
“Life. Family. I’m not sure if I should get into specifics.”
“Nuff said,” Anigel nodded. “Well, this probably won’t make you feel better, but it does get better. You look back and you won’t believe you ever had to go through school. Or that it was hard. You’ll start to look back at the bad parts and laugh. Often you forget. That’s an added blessing.”
They were quiet as Anigel crossed Archer Street, then Niall said, “I heard you weren’t... religious.. you know?”
“Nobody’s religious,” Anigel said. “I’m just up front about it. But what?”
“Do you believe in sin?”
“Well.. yes.” She became sober. “Yes, Niall, I believe in sin.”
“What is it?”
They were approaching the Breckinridge now. She wasn’t exactly impressed, actually she was a little bit disapproving of these large, far apart houses with their lawns that could fit another house. Not my business. Not my business.
She said, “What do they teach at Our Lady these days? No, I know, probably what they always taught. But sin... I guess it’s when you injure what God loves... his world, his creation but mainly his people. You know? When you hurt someone that must just piss God off.”
“What if it’s just to you. Just to your body, you know?”
They were at 1733 Breckinridge now. Anigel rolled up into their driveway. She observed, to her surprise, Ralph’s car and saw Ralph getting out and walking up the drive to Russell’s house. Gilead’s nosey ass was at the back of that she was sure.
“Nothing is ever just you,” she said, returning to Niall. “And even if it was, you would be part of God’s creation. I and you, we would be the thing he loves, and even if we harmed ourselves, that would be evil, wouldn’t it? I think that would be the greatest evil of all.”



Russell said, “It’s open.”
The door opened, and Thom stuck his head in.
“Hey, Russ, you’re still up?”
“Of course I’m up.”
“I was gonna come up and say, if you wanted you should join me and your mom downstairs and watch a little TV, but, look, you’ve got company.”
And Thom made a gameshow gesture and ushered in Ralph, clapping him on the back.
“You guys might find something better to do than watch TV. Ralph, teach him some football moves or something.”
Ralph laughed uneasily and said, “I think Russell’s a lost cause, sir.”
“One could always hope. In every other way,” Thom said, winking, “he’s a perfectly pleasing son.”
Thom left, closing the door behind him, and Ralph said, “Your dad’s pretty cool.”
“I agree,” Russell said, standing up. It was his room, so he’d better cross it. He stood before Ralph and was, again, surprised to be a little taller than him.
“Russ,” Ralph said, his voice a little tired and husky.
Russell didn’t say anything. He thought it was best not to.
And then Ralph put a hand over his face in took a deep breath. He shook his head.
“I’m so stupid, Russ. I’m just a big dumb—”
“Don’t say Polock.”
Ralph blinked, looking offended.
“I wasn’t about to. Is that what you—nevermind,” he shook his head.
“Ralph, what?”
“I love you. Alright?”
“Whenever you say something like that, you get up and walk away for three months, or bang your girlfriend or some random chick at a football game.”
“I’m not a good boyfriend. I’m not a good anything. I just… love you. You deserve so much fucking more than me, but I do love you. And I am…”
Ralph shook his head.
“I’m not going to fucking walk out on you again.”


Mark Young walked into the den with a grin on his face. That same silly grin he always had, Gilead thought.
Mark was holding two Coca Cola bottles and he handed one to Gilead and sat down beside him, and then took a long swig and Gilead watched his Adam’s apple and let himself delight, a little bit, in his wavy dark hair, in the subtle round strength of his biceps that he always showed because he always wore short sleeved shirts.
“We haven’t missed that much of the movie,” Mark said.
“I don’t really care too much about Christmas movies,” Gilead said.
“Me neither. It’s just sort of something to do. And you know, I like doing things with you.”
“Well, I like doing things with you too, Mr. Young.”
Neither one of them was looking at each other and Mark, his legs apart on the sofa, had knocked his knee into Gilead’s.
“So…. You’re staying tonight?”
“Yeah,” Gilead said. “It’s good of your folks to give us the run of the house.”
“Yeah,” Mark said.
Then he said, “You know we did good work. I mean, you did good work. Going in there. Telling Ralph what’s what? I almost thought we should go over to Jason’s.”
“I know you do. I know you do.”
Mark chuckled a little and said, “I just…”
“Yeah,” Gilead looked at Mark.
Mark did not look at him. He turned his head so Gilead could see the back of his head, the little V his dark hair went to, the strength in his thin shoulders and strong neck.
“You and Russell did something and I never thanked you. I always wanted to, but I never did.”
“Really?” Gilead blinked. “Refresh my memory.”
“When….” Mark started and his face changed, as if it wasn’t ready for what his mouth was about to produce.
“When Joe died… When that car crashed, it was the worst time of my life. Obviously. And then, at the mass, all these people kept trying to talk to me, ask if I was okay, and I wished they would stop because I couldn’t take it.
“And then I see you guys come in. I know you don’t know Joe. I know you don’t really know me. But the two of you came, and you all just knelt in front of the casket. You prayed on your Rosary. That meant everything. Everything to me.”
“Russell said he got the call from David Tressler,” Gilead said.
Mark nodded.
“I never did. One of our friends, Brad Long—”
“He’s one of my neighbors. Was one of my neighbors.”
“Right. He said he saw you running down the street when it was ninety degrees covered in sweat, shirtless, looking like the devil was after you. And all I could think was how if that happened to me I would run and run to get away from the pain. And I just thought of you in pain, and… I should have said something. I wanted to, Mark. But I decided to leave you at peace. I didn’t want to disturb you with the dumb shit in my mouth.”
“I was so happy yo see you,” Mark said, and he had taken Gilead’s hand and his thumb was rubbing the inside of Gilead’s palm. “You could have said anything and it would have made my day. But you did make my day. And Russell too. So I had to say something to Ralph.
“Besides, I hate disloyalty and… people being jerks, and…. Not being true. I mean…”
Mark had released his hand, but Gilead could still feel its warm, feel the thumb rubbing the inside of his palm. Gilead had the keen sense he could look away so Mark could turn his head, had more pleasure than he’d ever had in Mark’s knee pressed against his, “when someone loves you they should act like it. They should…”
“Be true.”
“Be true.”
“Be loyal.”
“Yes.”
Mark said, licking his lips and swallowing, “I would always be loyal. You… You know what right?”
Gilead felt like something painful had risen up in him, like it was almost difficult to speak. Why couldn’t he speak?
He said, “Yes.”
Mark had moved almost imperceptibly closer. He was lamely, too casually swinging his open hand toward Gilead and looking away, as he sank further into the sofa, legs wider apart, looking sway, licking his lips, trying to be casual.
Gilead caught his hand, and Mark stopped moving, He slipped his fingers into Mark’s and Mark swallowed, tightening his own around Gilead’s as they watched the movie.


MORE IN A COUPLE OF DAYS. TOMORROW: KING OF ALL THESE RUINS

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great end to the chapter! I am glad Anigel was around to be there for Niall and that Ralph confessed his feelings to Russell. Gilead and Mark are very cute and I love their relationship. Excellent writing and I look forward to King Of All These Ruins tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Sorry I was not around to converse with you about this, or much else tonight. I'm glad you enjoyed the end of chapter one, and I'm also glad that Anigel was there for Niall. So far, everyone seems to be doing more or less the right thing, but we've still got a difficult path to tread!

 

[ChrisGibson]

As we enter a new chapter, Russell, and Bill continue with affairs while Gilead and Anigel have their own revelations.


BRIGHAM STREET BRIDGE




“This is pretty awesome,” Russell decided, leaning his elbows on the old parapet.
“Yeah it is,” Ralph said, though he wasn’t quite sure what was awesome Being with Russell was aesome. Being at peace with Russell was awesome. The way he felt was awesome.
“We’re in Geshichte Falls,” Russel said, “looking at Geschichte Falls.”
“Aw yeah,” Ralph chuckled. “Yeah, that is pretty rad.”
He wasn’t wearing his hat. Ralph was vain about his hair, He took an uncgloved hand through it.
“I guess I’m used to it. But I do come up here to think.”
They were on the Brigham Street Bridge, the long expansion bridge that crossed from the majority of town to Little Poland, and its outliers, the part of Geshichte Falls that stuck out like a southern tongue and was borderd to the south and the west by East Sequoya. Russell could look south and see Brigham Street dotted with lights leaning down into an area that reminded him of his grandparents home on the South side of Chicago, the same area where his cousin Macy lived, old two stories factories, the slender claboarded houses withthier wooden back porches connecting one floor to the other, the churches, Saint Celestine rising up not far from the store Ralph’s brother ran.
“I always wondered,” Russell said, looking away from Little Poland and onto the expanse of blue water where orangish factory lights and the little lights of two down towns looked on it, “why it’s called Saint Celestine’s.”
“Huh?”
“He’s not Polish. I don’t think.”
“Naw,” Ralph said. He was about to spit, because he liked to spit, but he also liked sleeping with Russell and he felt suddenly self conscious.
“That all used to be Irish, and then we came in. Us and the Mexicans. The Irish built that church and he’s one of theirs. One of yours.”
“Oh,” Russell rolled his eyes and laughed.
“What?”
“My Irish doesn’t come from around here, so whatever.”
“No, I think they got all bougie like you and moved to Breckinridge.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Only sort of.”
“But I think you’re right, so I’m not going to say anything.”
“Yeah, I’m just going to say, Celestine’s is pretty and old and everything, but if it had been built by us, it would be better.”
“Oh.”
“No one ever says, that’s a great Irish church! But Polish churches are…. They’re fucking amazing.”
Russell turned to look at the sparkle in Ralph’s eyes while he chewed his gum.
“I had no idea you cared that much about religion.”
“I think I care more about being Polish, actually.”
“Gilead would say it’s all white and shrug.”
Ralph grinned, jammed his hands in his pockets, and then he did shrug.
Somewhere in the darkness, where the river bottlenecked and there were very few lights to be seen was Riverview Drive, the street that the whole Riverview district got its name from. Gilead was on that street, maybe with Mark Young right now, in his mom’s house. A few blocks north Nehru was doing something fascinating and still, a little further, in the old neighborhood off the northwest of downtown, Brad and Marissa were settling in to their new lives.
“You’re right,” Ralph said. “It is pretty awesome.”
Ralph was chewing his gum slowly and giving Russell a strange, considering look.
“What?” Russell laughed, nervously.
“Did we make any kind of decision about how we were gonna be?”
“I… I don’t think so.”
“I can’t be your boyfriend.”
“Cause you’re with Vanessa, and we’re in high school, and it would be a lot of—”
“I can’t do this to Vanessa. I’m not as dumb as you think.”
“I don’t—”
“I’ve cheated on her three times. Twice with guys. I’m seventeen. We’re seventeen, Russ. Why do shit like that. I’m just going to end it with her.”
Russell did not stop to say that he, in fact, was still sixteen.
Ralph said, “I can’t date you because I’m a terrible boyfriend and you just had a terrible boyfriend. I don’t want to be Number Two.”
“And yet…?”
“I want to kiss you.”
He had never felt like this about Jason. He had not known he felt this way about Ralph, that his whole body would go hot and weak, his knees melt, his penis stiffen when Ralph said that.
“Then fucking do it, already.”
Ralph barked out a laugh and then quickly he did.
A very few cars were coming up the bridge, but no one was looking at them in the dark, and below a freight boat passed, headed east. Ralph, who had beeen gross, creepy, irritating, was the handsome football player with bronze colored hair,, strong and holding his face as he kissed him deeply. He never wanted to stop, but:
“Damn, a bastard has to breathe!” Ralph said, chuckling.
After a moment he said, “I don’t have a right to ask this, and I’ll drive you home. But…I’d love it if you stayed with me tonight.”
Russell was embarrassed to be so easy, embarrassed that when Ralph grinned at him he thought of the first time, and the last time just last night when they’d taken their clothes off so easily and made love for such a long time. That Ralph could do it like what Russell suspected a grown up did, made Russell hot. That Ralph made love with his hands, his mouth, his eyes, and in no hurry, that the whole night would be the two of them touching, murmuring, taking each other to sensations and emotions they hadn’t felt yet… that he could not finish his sentences.
Russell swallowed and looked at the river, letting his cheeks turn cold again, returning as much to equilibrium as he could.
“Let’s go back your place,” he said.



Lynn cried out. She always cried out when he was fucking her. she always begged for it harder. She always clung to him and the clinging was hard to maintain because of the sweat down his shoulders, sweat budding on his back. Bill could hear in his own ear, in that part of him a little separated from the rest of himself, his own ragged breathing, could feel the pleasure point in the tip of his cock. Sometimes it was lovemaking, but sometimes it was this... and the catching of breath and the almost folding in on himself before the explosion. Sometimes he bit the pillow or turned his face into Lynn’s shoulder. Sometimes he let himself scream.
Sometimes like now.


That night, as Anigel slept, a truck came by and it’s light woke her. Even as she was waking up, Anigel realized that there could be no truck, and the light died down. But it did not go away.
She sat up in bed a little and was about to shout and then she stopped.
On the other side of the room the black woman in the window seat regarded Anigel wih mild amusement. She was wearing what Anigel considered a really quality white dress and a blue veil was on her head.
“I left the snake at home,” she said, taking out one of Anigel’s cigarettes. “You got a light?” Then. “Never mind.” she inhaled, it glowed orange.
“You know the snake you always see around my feet. That scares the hell out of some people.”
She leaned back her head an exhaled.
Anigel Reyes sat in amazement, wanting to swear, not daring too.
“I just came to tell you, you’re a good girl is all. You’re one of the ones he likes. He loves everyone. Has to. But... likes?... Now that’s something.”
The woman exhaled the last of the smoke in a gush from her nostrils. The cigarette was gone so quickly. With manners she placed it in the ashtray and sat it in the window sill.
“Try to get some rest,” the woman said.
As she was turning around to go—yes—out of the window, Anigel finally found her voice.
“Is that it? Aren’t you going to say something grand?”
“Is that it she says!”
` “I tell you he likes you! He’s on your side. He is. He’s in love with you. And you say… Is that it? Well, if you want the usual message, she stretched out her hands and began to… glow… just a bit.
“Pray. Pray. Pray!” she announced in an airy voice, and then added, “but you already have. And by the way, say hey to Ross and Russell. Peace.”
And then she was gone.
Anigel sat in the dark.
“It was just a dream,” she muttered to herself. She repeated it.
The only problem was that right now Anigel Reyes couldn’t help but notice that she was wide awake.
M—the Woman—had certainly had the right idea. It was time for a cigarette.



Saturday morning, Sharonda Wynn Story went to the bakery and picked up box of Danish for today and a coffee cake for tomorrow. She got paddy sausage and orange juice and a pack of cigarettes. Buying them a pack at a time made you smoke less, she was convinced. She was grateful for the sun on the snow, grateful for her son and grateful for this life so close to Christmas, only a fe days a way. She took Royal Street along the river and saw the Number Fifteen pass her. She changed lanes and Royal Street went northwest with all of its traffic while Riverview Street continued along the water, narrowing, insisting one slow down with its speed bumps, River Park was a widening triangle that separated Royal from River and then old homes rose up. The Wynns had lived along the river for years and eventually 3141, the house on the rise with the brick first story and clapboard second, the little porch looking across to the strip of park before this place where the river went shallow, was now her home.
On the other side of them was Hannity Park, a green strip most of the year but now a high bare treed ridge that separated this river from the canal dug deep enough for the ferries and freighters to pass through on their way to Port Gregory. From here the river seemed small and personal, and there was no view of East Sequoya.
When Gilead finally rose she put the sausage on. He wasn’t troublesome like some boys or like his father had been. He was a Wynn through and through. He always rose early and he worked hard so on Saturday she was glad to let him sleep in. While she did patties, he kissed her on the cheek and warmed the Danish, poured the coffee. With a murmured grace and a quick and casual Sign of the Cross they began to nibble on food.
“When is Mark coming over?” she asked.
“Hum?” Gilead said. Then, “If he knows me, not before two on a Saturday.”
Sharonda nodded.
She said, “When that boy comes with flowers, officially courting, what you gon do?”
Gilead was taken off guard by his mother’s statement. Was she joking? She was snide, even vicious, but not to him. He looked at her. She looked like him, glasses, honest faced, completely serious.
“What are you going to do when he tells you he’s in love with you or asks you to marry him, or however that shit goes?”
Sharonda elaborated, “Please understand, I’m not trying to joke and I’m not trying to be more modern than I am. It’s just I married a horrible man and every man before him and after has been horrible too. It’s difficult as hell to find someone, and then this white boy—who had money, but hell we have money too—shows up the door, always dressed, always classy, knows what he wants and, Gil, if he came for me, I’d probably say yes, so I think you should say yes too.”
“Well,” Gilead took sip of his coffee. He’d never meant to conceal things from his mother, and his mother never asked awkward questions. She just laid it out as a matter of fact that a good man had shown up with interest and she thought Gilead would be a fool to turn him down.
“I think you’re right,” Gilead said.
Sharonda nodded.
“I think he kind of asked me last night. And, I think I kind of said yes.”


MORE TOMORROW,

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was some great writing and a great portion! I am glad Russell and Ralph had their talk. Hopefully they become a couple out in the open. Anigel had an eventful and surprising night. Bill continues to be kind of awful. I am happy for Gilead and I look forward to more tomorrow!