Seth had told me about his friends from Florida and about how they had had such a big impact on him, but, frankly, I wasn't ready for that crowd. They were almost too much of everything. They were friendly, outgoing, and just plain nice. The only one who didn't say much of anything was Denny. That was his first visit to the city, and he didn't know Beth and Ed. I didn't say much, either, for the same reason. The first thing that really got to me was how they all felt about Seth. They genuinely loved him, from the grandparents, to Kevin and Rick, to the kids, and even to Craig and Cherie. I liked all of them, but Justin and Kyle stood out a little bit. Those two teased each other and the rest of them almost nonstop, but it was always good natured teasing. Kyle probably surprised me the most. He's a really good looking kid, and he's sort of built along football-player lines. He looked like he was pretty sharp, but he didn't use the best grammar in the world, and some of the things he said made me think he wasn't all that with it. But then they started talking on Wednesday night about all the things they had done recently. It turned out he was president of the Student Government Association at his high school and had just run their Homecoming festival. Then they alluded to him being a National Merit Semifinalist. I was blown away. He and Tim were boyfriends, and apparently they were out to everybody back home. Unbelievable! Justin was a big blond. Actually, he wasn't any taller than Kyle or most of the rest of them, but he just seemed big. Powerful. Like there was a lot of mass to him, or something. I had been working out since the spring, so I had seen a lot of well-built guys. Judging from what I saw when he took his shirt off to get ready for bed, he's been working out all his life. He had a real thick Southern accent, and he told me he was from Alabama. He was probably the cutest looking and acting one of all of them, and it was pretty clear that everybody loved him. We went to museums all day Thursday, and we had a great dinner at their house on Thursday night. Cherie wasn't there because she was really tired, but Craig was. I found out she was pregnant and that's what was causing the tiredness. I had classes on Thursday, and on Friday, too, but I decided just to cut them so I could spend time with those people. Seth and I had spent Wednesday night at the Foleys' house, but we hadn't gone there planning to do that. As a result, we didn't have any clean clothes, so we were going to have to go home Thursday night. Seth's parents and his sister were out of town for the long weekend the kids had off from school, but Seth had never planned to go with them. In fact, he and I had planned to drive to Emerald Beach to see the guys until we found out they were coming to New Orleans. We were going to sleep at his house and meet up with them again in the morning. I was glad we were doing some "tourist" things. I had lived there over a year, but I hadn't yet gone to any museums or anything like that. I was having a great time. After dinner, we all got together in the den to talk. "We met your buddies Paul and Jackie, Craig," Justin said. "Those are some really nice guys." "Those boys are their brothers," Beth said. "The four of them were raised together as brothers. I can't begin to tell you how cute they were when they were little fellows." "They told us some pretty funny stories, Craig. Something about a potato gun and a wee-wee in distress," Justin said. "Oh, my God," Craig said. He was laughing hard, and it looked like he was somewhat embarrassed, too. "I'm still not over the potato gun thing," Ed said. "What happened," Denny asked. "They shot out a stained glass window in the church in the middle of a Good Friday service, baby," Beth said. "He wanted to kill Judas in the window for betraying Jesus." The ones who knew the story laughed hard. "Tell the whole story, though," Kevin insisted. "Well, they thought the whole window was backed in Plexiglas, and, indeed, most of it was. That panel had been too, at one time," Ed said. "It had fallen out or something, though, so it wasn't protected. The church was full of people for Good Friday, and they were supposed to be there, too, as altar boys." "Dad, you were furious about that," Craig said. "I was angry, Craig. No question about it. But your mother helped me see the humor of your brother taking out Judas on Good Friday. That was a very Catholic thing to do. It was just too bad it cost me $800 to have the damn thing repaired." We all laughed hard at the way he said that. "Tell us some stories about when Kevin was little," Tim said. "There are so many, Tim. He was desperately afraid of the vacuum cleaner. He called it the 'minga-monga,'" she said. "Where that term came from, I'll never know." "Why were you afraid of it, Kev?" Tim asked. "It was because of him," Kevin said, and he pointed his thumb at Craig. "He told me he could make it suck me up into it, and he demonstrated by putting little pieces of paper on the carpet. He ran it over the paper, and it sucked the little pieces up. I didn't know." "Now that I think about it, what I did was pretty bad," Craig said. "He used to have these pajamas that had feet in them. One time I got out the vacuum and ran it up to him. It sucked the toes on the feet of his pajamas into it, of course. I pulled it back because it actually scared me when it did that, but I told him that if he didn't do everything I said to do, it was going to get him next." "That was mean, Craig," Tim said. "I know, but I was only five. He was three," Craig said. "You can remember that," Brian asked. "Yeah, I can, Bri. I know it doesn't seem possible, but it really did scare me," Craig said. "I only did it that once, too." "Kevin had some strange comprehensions of language," Ed said. "One time we were going someplace in the car. They were in the back seat, and I was driving. They got into a tussle of some kind, and they were wrestling around. All of a sudden, Kevin screamed and then started crying. I asked Beth what had happened, and she said they were playing and Craig had kicked Kevin in the process. Kevin was about five, and Craig was about seven, maybe a little older. Where Craig had accidentally kicked him was in the groin. For two or three years after that Kevin always referred to his private parts as his 'process.'" We all laughed hard at that one. "Hell, all I knew was he had kicked me in the process, and it hurt," Kevin said, and we laughed some more. "I think the funniest thing Kevin ever did was his first day of kindergarten," Beth said. "We were all at the dining room table for dinner. Both boys were bouncing around like crazy because they were so excited. We used to play a game called 'Best and Worst,' where we each had to say the best thing that had happened to us that day, and the worst. It was Kevin's turn. "He got up and ran out to the den to get something. He came back with all the forms he had gotten in school that day, including the student handbook. He said his teacher had said to make sure his parents went over these 'formulations' with him. He proceeded to go through the student handbook, page by page, holding it up the way a teacher would a storybook so the children could see the pictures. Page after page after page. Ed and I were so tickled by his doing that that we could barely stay in our chairs. He was totally serious about it, and he wanted us to be serious, too. He was incredibly cute doing that." We all laughed. "That's okay. Just make fun of me all you want to," Kevin said. "Son, you know we're not making . . . " "Yes, ma'am, I know," Kevin said, cutting her off and grinning. "And those stories are pretty funny now." "I have one more, and it has to do with him and language," Craig said. "Somehow he thought having a bowel movement was known as 'taking a bow.' I guess it was sort of a mixture of 'taking a crap,' or whatever, and having a bowel movement, but to him it was 'taking a bow.' That was the way he referred to it for years." "I can see how a little kid could make that confusion," Seth said. "Yeah, Bubba, but he was eighteen when he started that," Craig said. We all howled with laughter, and Kevin threw a pillow at his brother's head. "Mama, make him go to bed," Kevin said. That made Beth, Ed, Craig, and Kevin himself laugh. "Guys," Beth said, "if I've heard that sentence once from those two, I've heard it a million times. You notice he said 'mama,' not 'mom.' On that note this old lady is going to make herself go to bed. Are you coming, Ed?" Everybody kissed her goodnight, including me. "Yeah, in a minute," Ed said. "Tim and Brian, if you boys are serious about seeing surgery, I'll be glad to take you if I get a call. I can't guarantee that it will happen, but the odds are about even that it will. Do you want me to wake you up if I get a call tonight?" Tim and Brian got pretty excited. "Yes, sir," they said in unison. "Do you other boys want to go, too?" Ed asked. "No, sir, not me," Justin said. "I've already been in all the operating rooms I ever want to be in." "Same here," Kyle said. "When were you ever in an operating room?" Justin asked. "I wasn't. I just don't want to see it," Kyle said. Those two were like actors in a play, and they even spoke to one another in a way that was different from the way they spoke to others. There was a gruffness in their voice. I knew they were best friends, and they obviously cared for each other a great deal. It was almost as though they were teasing each other with every sentence they spoke. It was almost eleven when Seth and I finally said goodnight and left. "Seth, they're incredible," I said in the car. "I know. I told you they were. Which one did you like best?" "I liked them all, but I'd have to say that Justin and Kyle were my favorites," I said. "Mine, too. Kyle is the one I feel closest to, though. I had a hard crush on him for a while," he said. "I can see how you would," I said. "It looks like Tim's got him pretty much in his pocket, though." "Oh, yeah. It's pretty obvious they're in love, isn't it?" he asked. "Well, yes and no. I mean, I wouldn't look at them and think 'gay couple,' at least not when we were in public. I noticed that a little in private, though, when it was just us," I said. "They're out to the immediate world in Emerald Beach," he said. "So I gathered. We'll get there some day, Tom." He called me Huck, after Huckleberry Finn, and I called him Tom, after Tom Sawyer. Seth and I made love for the first time in his bed that night . I had been to his house often, but that was the first night I had spent there. Before that, our love-making had been confined to my apartment. He drifted off to sleep almost as soon as we were finished, and I lay there thinking for a little while. I'm so lucky, I thought, and so much in love.
"God Awmighty, I'm so fucking hungry I could eat this pillow," I said. "How the hell do we get a pizza up here?" "You see that thing right there? That's called a phone. You pick it up and call the pizza man. Tell him you want food. Get two large ones with lots of meat on 'em, hear? I'm about to die, too," Kyle said. "Shit, somebody gimme some keys so I can go get 'em. They wouldn't ever find this place way back in here. I saw a Pizza Hut takeout store about three blocks away. I'm going," I said. "We'll go, but I'm driving. You and Kyle have been drinking tonight, Jus, and you don't need to drive," Tim said. "You and Brian go, and leave us here, Babe," Kyle said. "That's the first sensible thing you've said in a week," I said to Kyle. I was just teasing him, and he knew it. It really wasn't a good idea for me to drive, or Kyle, either, even though we were probably both legal. We had both had a good dinner, so that probably entered in, and we had had those drinks over several hours. No point in taking chances, though. Brian wasn't quite old enough for his license yet, but he would be, soon. He and Tim almost never took a drink, so they could always drive. That worked out pretty good for me and Kyle, I thought. Brian and Tim took off to get the pizzas, and Denny went with them. "Are you learning a lot, Bubba," Kyle asked me. "Kyle, don't tell anybody this, okay? But I didn't know what the Confederacy was until today, and I know that Jefferson Davis character ain't no more related to me than Trixie is," I said. He laughed. "I know. I wasn't real clear on what that was all about, but I was embarrassed to ask. The sad thing is, I took American history last year, but we never covered it. At least I don't think we did. I took the first half of American in the eighth grade, and pretty much all I remember about that grade was having a hard-on all the time," he said. I laughed hard when he said that. "That's the story of my life, Kyle," I said. "Of course, I took it last year, too, in adult school. That was the last thing I had to finish to take my GED test, and I did it. But I don't think we had anything about the Confederacy, either." "Me and you have got to get us some education, Jus. We're each gonna have a doctor for a husband, and we can't be dumb good-ole-boys forever. They'll get tired of us and find them some new boys," he said. "Then you and me can hook up," I said. I didn't really think that would happen, but I knew I could fall for him real easy. "Come on, Bubba. Don't go there, please. It's hard enough as it is, you know?" "I'm just tugging a little on this thing right here," I said. I rubbed the bulge in his jeans, and he was hard. Oh, oh, I thought. This ain't good. "Yeah, you see what I mean?" he asked. "Kyle, I didn't mean nothing by that, and you know it, man. I'm sorry." "I know you were teasing me, but I'm flesh and blood, Jus. Let's change the subject, okay?" "Kyle, please don't be mad at me," I said. I was worried I had offended him, and that was the last thing on God's green earth I ever wanted to do. "I'm not mad at you. We can't talk about shit like us getting together if Tim and Brian ever leave us. It's right under the surface for both of us, Bubba, and it could bubble up so quick we wouldn't even know what was happening. Do you want a drink?" "Yeah, I do, as a matter of fact. A strong one," I said. "How many drinks did you have already tonight?" he asked. "Two before dinner and two after, and they were pretty damn weak, too," I said. "Me, too. Have you noticed that Tim and Brian look out for me and you like they were our big brothers or something," he asked. "Yeah, I have, and I think it's cute as hell," I said. I walked back to the kitchen with him after he had gone to his room to get his bottle of booze. "What is that shit," I asked when I saw the bottle he had. "We finished the bourbon I had the night of the Homecoming dance, and this was all I could get. It's scotch. I swear, I don't know what's come over my parents, but they just about never have a drink anymore. I know there's plenty of booze in that closet out by the pool, but I couldn't get to his keys without him knowing about it," he said. "This'll be good in coke, though." We didn't say anything while he made the drinks. I felt a little bad about what I had done a few minutes before. "Kyle, I'm sorry I touched you the way I did back there," I said. "You didn't do anything to be sorry about, Jus. It's just that . . . " "I know. I feel the same way, Kyle. We can't let it get out of hand between us. I want you so bad right now I'm about to cream my jeans, and I know you feel the same way. But we're not in love with each other, are we?" "No, we're not. We're each in love with a boy, though. As much as I want you physically, I won't risk what I have with Tim and what you have with Brian. Let's go back in there, have a smoke, and wait for them to get back with the pizzas, okay?" "Did you ever think your best friend would be a redneck whore," I asked. "Did you ever think your best friend would be a rich Eagle Scout?" he asked in return. We both laughed hard, and we hugged each other. * * * The next day I was determined to do like Kyle had said and start getting me an education. That morning, when I was holding Brian after we had made love, I knew I could never stand to lose him. It would kill me. I was going to do every damn thing I could to make sure it would never happen. If he wanted to be a doctor and needed somebody to practice on, he could open me up on the kitchen table as often as he needed to. I had never once had the feeling that Brian looked down on me in any way. In fact, I thought he looked up to me, but I knew I had some learning to do to make sure that wasn't ever going to happen. The first place we went was the Jackson Barracks. It was everything military you could think of, and it was very interesting. They had little stories about the wars the stuff had been used in, though, and that was what I was reading. "You're studying that stuff mighty close, Stud. What's up with you?" Kyle asked. "I'm trying to get me an education, and you'd be best advised to do the same thing. Did you know about all these damn wars America has been in?" I asked. "No. I haven't been reading it," he said. "Kyle, you inspired me last night, dude. Don't get behind, Bubba." "Why don't you just tell me about 'em," he said. "Read the fucking stories for yourself, Kyle. You and I can discuss them over coffee later. We'll buy us each a pipe and sit and puff and discuss," I said. He started laughing, and the rest of them wanted to know what was so funny. "Nothing," he said. "I've got a psycho on my hands here, and I'm trying to deal with him." They all knew it was me, and that made them laugh, too. I was probably a little bit psycho, so it wasn't all that far fetched. After that barracks place, we ate some lunch at some little dive of a neighborhood restaurant. It was basically a sandwich shop that sold po' boy sandwiches, something I could definitely relate to. The poor boy part, anyway. We had had those before when we were in New Orleans, and I knew those suckers were good. There were thirteen of us, so we pulled tables together to make us a big one. We were the only ones in the place who had had a shower in recent memory. It was full of nothing but guys who were doing road work, and they smelled like hard-working men. Tell you the truth, that smell was getting me a little twitchy down below. I looked over at Kevin, and he was plumping up down there, too. "What's that thing all about?" I asked, pointing to his crotch. "Justin, if you say a fucking word, I will take you outside and kill you," he said. I laughed hard, and he did, too. "It's the smell, isn't it?" I asked. "Yes, goddamn it." "Does Rick's smell do that to you, too?" I asked. "Yeah, but let's just keep it our little secret, okay," he said. I laughed. "I've been wanting a secret on you," I said. That made him laugh. "Well, now we both have one about each other," he said. We both laughed. "This is too good. I want everything on this menu," Kyle said. "They have my favorite stuff in the world on here." "What looks good, Babe," Tim asked. "Everything. Read it. Oyster loaf. Soft shell crab po' boy. Red beans and rice. Jambalaya. I want every bit of it," Kyle said. "Even you can't eat that much," I said. "I know. That's the problem," he said. The girl who had taken our drink order was back with a pad to take our lunch orders. I was getting me a "combination," which was a ham and swiss cheese po' boy. I knew what that was, and I knew I liked it. It was Kyle's turn. "What you want, dawlin'?," she asked. She was real cute, and she knew it. She was going to flirt with him. "Is there any way I can get, like, two half sandwiches? Like half an oyster po' boy and half a soft shell?" "Shu-ah," she said. "That's what I want, then," he said. "Half erstah, half soff shell. Anyting else?" "No, that's it. Half oister, half soft shell," he said. When she had left, Kyle said, "Did you hear her say erster instead of oister?" "Yeah, Babe, but you say it differently from the rest of us, too, you know?" Tim said. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Babe, you say oister. We say oyster. You say 'all' instead of 'oil' and 'ball' instead of 'boil,'" Tim said. Kyle didn't know what to say, and I thought it was pretty damn funny. I knew I had an accent, but he didn't know he did. Kyle talked a lot closer to the way the rest of them talked than I did, but that boy had an accent, and it screamed out Emerald Beach. "Y'all are making me self-conscious about the way I talk," he said. I knew he didn't give one shit about the way he talked, any more than I did. "So, is that going to make you shut up?" I asked. They all laughed, including him. "No way," he said. "So, forget about it," I said. He grinned at me. "I already did," he said. "Kyle, we're in the part of the city where they speak Yat," Cherie said. "What is that?" he asked. "It's the dialect of this part of New Orleans. A Yat is somebody who talks like that girl does. It comes from the saying, Where yat? Where are you at?" Cherie said. "There's a name for the way they talk?" Kyle asked. "Yes, and for the people who talk that way. The one I like best is the way they say 'bottle.' It's like bot-l. I can't really do it justice, though," Cherie said. "Ask the girl what kind of container the root beer comes in." He did that when she came back, and the girl said "bot-l," like she as swallowing the L. "The language here is one of the fascinating things about the city, I think," Ed said. "My father, Craig and Kevin's grandfather, claimed he could place a native Orleanian to within three blocks of where he grew up, based on his speech," Beth said. "He sounds like Henry Higgins," Denny said. Denny didn't say much, and a lot of the time you didn't know what he was talking about when he did say something. "Exactly, Denny," Grandma said. "Is that the guy who built the D-Day landing craft?" Kyle asked. I was glad he asked that. "You're thinking of Andrew Higgins, Kyle," Grandpa said. "Henry Higgins is a character in the play Pygmalion or the musical My Fair Lady." "Oh," Kyle said and shoved more erstah po' boy into his mouth. * * * After lunch we drove to the Chalmette National Battlefield where they had the Battle of New Orleans. It had a big plantation house that didn't have all that much in it except some displays of the battle using little lead toy soldiers. The display showed how the place supposedly looked during the battle, and it's a good thing because some of it has changed. There used to be a canal that separated the British from the Americans, but that was just a little indentation in the ground now. "Those dumbasses fought this battle after the war was over," Kyle said. "What the hell are you talking about?" I asked. "Read that plaque, Buddy," Brian said. "It says the peace treaty was signed on Christmas Eve of 1814, and the battle took place on January 8, 1815, after the war was officially over." "That is pretty dumb. How come nobody told ole Andrew Jackson?" I asked. "The peace treaty was signed in Europe, and the news had to come here by ship, Jus," Grandpa said. "It took several weeks for it to get here. By then, the battle had already been fought." In front of the plantation house, they had this tall white monument thing that you could climb to the top of to look out over the battlefield. The stairs were real steep, and there were a lot of 'em. I was a little winded when I got to the top, but so was everybody else. "Is that the Mississippi River right there," I asked. "Yes, it is, Jus," Grandpa said. "The river was once lined with plantations like this one." "Yeah, I remember from last Christmas," I said. We spent a good bit of time at that place, and I made it my business to read every sign and story I saw. I learned a good bit about it, too. There is a national cemetery there, but it mostly has guys who died in the Civil War, not the Battle of New Orleans. Only thirteen Americans died, but 2,000 British soldiers did. After we walked around in there, we went up on the levee to look at the river. There were some huge ships out there, and it was really cool to watch them. "I dare you guys to piss in the river," Rick said. Cherie and Grandma didn't climb the levee, so they weren't around. Not that it would have mattered, though. "It's supposed to be good luck, guys," Kevin said. "For real?" I asked. "That's what they say," he said. "Well, hell, let's do it," Kyle said. "It can't hurt, and I've got to piss bad anyway." Eleven guys lined up next to one another along the bank of the Mississippi and squirted. Kyle was on my left, and he moved in closer to me when we started pissing. He was playing with it, making his stream cross mine and shit like that. He brought it way closer than I was comfortable with a time or two. "Kyle, if you piss on me, I'm going to push your ass in that water. I swear to God," I said. He was laughing at me, but I was damn sure not interested in getting pissed on. "Are you scared?" he asked, teasing me. "I ain't scared of nothing, but if you get me wet, you'll be sorry," I said. We both finished at the same time. Before I could even put my dick away, he grabbed me in a hug. "I would never do that to you, Bubba," he said. "I know," I said. Just as I said that, I felt it. He let loose with a tiny squirt all over my dick. Goddamn it! I thought. He broke away from me in a heartbeat, and his ass was running up that levee like a mountain goat, or something. Tim, Brian, Kevin, Rick, Grandpa--all of 'em--saw what had happened, and they thought that was the funniest damn thing they had ever seen in their lives. They were all laughing and carrying on like it was a damn party. I was mad, but I got over it pretty quick. He hadn't wet my pants any, otherwise I would have been wanting to kill him. Grandpa handed me some tissue to dry off with, which I did and then put my dick away. Then I started laughing, too. "You're not going to hurt him, are you, Jus?" Tim asked. "No, but I ought to," I said. "Justin, I think your brother threw down the gauntlet, Son," Rick said. "You're honor bound now to get him back somehow. Just don't hurt him, okay?" "Hurting him wouldn't do any good. I'm just going to pretend it didn't happen. I'm not going to say a word about it. I'm going to just watch him stew over it," I said. "Are you going to get him back?" Seth asked. "Oh, absolutely, and I'm going to tell him that much. But it's not going to be right away. I need to think about it some and plan my revenge," I said. "You can always do what Kevin used to do to me," Craig said. "What's that?" I asked. "Flush the toilet while he's taking a shower. Or wait till a cold day, and turn on the hot water full out in two or three sinks at the same time. That'll get him," Craig said. "This is going to be fun, boys," I said. "I'll get his cute little ass. Never fear." They all laughed pretty hard. When we got to the top of the levee, there he was down below. He had his arm around Cherie's waist, being just as affectionate and cute and sweet as the day is long. I didn't have a smile on my face. He grinned big at me, but I didn't change expression. For a second it looked like he was fixing to run, but then I couldn't stand it anymore and started laughing. "I'm going to get you," I said to him sort of private so the others didn't hear. "I know. When?" "When you least expect it, that's when," I said. "That river's awesome," I said to the whole group to change the subject. "It's pretty nasty, though. I'd sure hate for somebody to throw me in it." The ones who had heard me threaten to throw Kyle in if he pissed on me laughed their asses off. The ladies probably thought we were all kind of strange, I reckon. I noticed Mr. Goodson didn't laugh, though. * * * Some of the guys who fought with the Americans were pirates, led by the head pirate by the name of Jean Lafitte. He came from a place called Barataria. It wasn't too far from where we were, so we decided to go there. First, though, we stopped at a place called Pakenham Oaks. It was this magnificent stand of live oak trees that were gigantic. General Pakenham was the dude who commanded the British, and the legend is he went to that spot to die after he had been wounded in the fight. The sign said they didn't know if that was true, but that's why it was named for him. It had ruins of an old plantation house on it, but the trees were what was so great about that place. "Does anybody want to walk down to the river and see it from this angle," Grandpa said. "No, thank you," Kyle said. All the guys laughed, except him. "What's going on here?" Cherie asked. Craig whispered something to her. "Oh, my God! That's nasty," she said out loud. "No, it's not. Guys do that kind of stuff, Baby," Craig said. "If we have a boy, he's not ever doing anything like that," she said. "Don't count on it," Grandpa said. "Your husband and his brother did things like that to each other all the time, Cher." "Just don't tell me about it, then," she said. She whispered something to Grandma, and Grandma laughed her ass off. "Ed's dead right, Cherie," she said and laughed some more. That Barataria place was nothing but a little fishing village. They had all these work boats in the harbor, and it was fun looking at those. We got coffee in a little coffee shop. After we got our coffee, me and Brian, and Tim and Kyle went exploring around the shops that were next to the coffee place. "You're not mad at me, are you?" Kyle said. "Nope," I replied. "Justin, some guys like to get pissed on. It's a sexual turn-on for them," Kyle said. "Yeah? Well, I ain't one of 'em, and I think you knew that," I said. "I did. I'm not one of them, either. Are we still friends?" "Of course we are. You know that," I said. "You've just given me a reason for living is all." "I don't like the sound of that," he said. I laughed, and the other three did, too. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Nice boys don't talk about piss and other things they do in the bathroom. I want to talk about something uplifting, like history or literature or art," I said. I put my hand on Kyle shoulder, and he cringed. Then I softly rubbed the back of his neck. "What's the matter there, Stud? You a little bit nervous, Bubba?" He laughed. "I don't trust you, you son of a bitch," Kyle said. "I'm not going to hurt you, Kyle." I was using my sweetest voice. "You're my brother and my best friend." "I know. That's what I'm afraid of," he said. "I swear to God, Kyle. I will not hurt you on purpose, or on accident, if I can help it." "Get it over with," he said. "No, Kyle. You'll know neither the day nor the hour of my revenge," I said. "You thought it was funny, though, didn't you?" "After my first shock of being pissed off for being pissed on, I thought it was hilarious, 'cause it was," I said. "Okay. Just do what you're going to do and get it over with, please," he said. He was almost whining, and me, Brian, and Tim were loving it. "Neither the day nor the hour, Kyle," I said. "Shit!" he said kind of loud. We were in a store, and the guy running the place--definitely a member of our team, by the way--looked at us and smiled. * * * They had bought a sack of oysters for us to open, and all the men were out on their patio opening oysters and eating them right there. Cherie and Grandma stayed inside. After we were out there about thirty minutes, Craig went in to check on his wife. He came back out grinning. "They're both sound asleep," he said. "I guess we wore them out," Kyle said. "Beth was called out last night," Grandpa said. "It was a very brutal child abuse case, and she didn't get a whole lot of sleep." "Is the child alright," Rick asked. "Yeah. He's conscious now, Son," he said. "He's a fourteen-year-old boy that Beth has treated since he was born. Apparently he came out as being gay, or was outed, to his parents last night, and his father beat him severely." That was damn sure a wet blanket on the crowd. Tim took Kyle's hand, nasty as it was with oyster juice, and Tim got huge tears in his eyes. Kyle walked him away from the rest of us. "Are you okay?" I asked Brian. Brian nodded, but I knew he was close to breaking down. "Do you know any details, Dad?" Kevin asked. "He was unconscious. Didn't you notice Mama on her cell phone off and on all day?" Grandpa asked. "Actually, I did, but I didn't know why. That was why, I guess," Kevin said. "The father was arrested and is in Parish Prison in Orleans Parish. Or he was. He's probably out by now. They live just over the parish line, evidently, and he's a New Orleans policeman. A detective. Mama spent a lot of time today on the phone with the boy's mother. The mother needed a lot of help, evidently, " he said. "I can't believe you and Mom were so calm about it today," Craig said. "I would have been a basket case." "Your mother has seen more of that than you would believe, Son," Grandpa said. "We talked about today, and what she should do, early this morning. The boy's under the care of a pediatric neurologist now, so Mama's involvement has pretty much ended until he's out of danger. We both felt that, under the circumstances, nothing would be more fitting than spending the day with our sons and grandsons, just doing normal things." His voice broke when he said that. I had tears in my eyes, and, when I looked around, there wasn't a dry eye anywhere. Kyle and Tim came back over to us then, and Tim seemed alright. "Let's finish getting these oysters shucked so they don't go to waste," Kyle said. He got busy, and, in a few minutes, a few other guys, including me, joined in to help him. Ole Curt knew what he was doing with an oyster knife, too, and before long people were talking again. Craig passed around another round of drinks, and gradually the evening got back to normal. When we had eaten all the oysters we wanted, and had shucked the rest for the freezer, we went inside. Miss Odille was long gone, so me and Kyle and Rick got the food hot and ready for everybody. "Why do some people hate us so much, Rick," Kyle asked. Rick took a deep breath and let it out slow. "Kyle, I'll never know," Rick said. "It doesn't make sense to me that people would hate because of the way other people love, but it's a reality we have to live with." "Doesn't something like that boy make you want to get that man and turn his head into mush?" Kyle asked. "Yes, it does, Kyle. Yes it does." |