| |
After Isaac hurried out to deal with the approaching barge, Lenert yawned and stretched. Isaac had moved so close to him in bed the night before that Lenert’s cock had stood to attention. Did the handsome lock-keeper share his desires? Or perhaps Isaac was merely tired and hadn’t realized what he’d done.
But Lenert was sure Isaac had been pleasuring himself in the outhouse the day before, after leaving their bed with a stiff cock. Was he thinking of Lenert when he did that?
He frowned. It was too confusing to consider. Then he slowly leveraged himself out of the bed, careful of the splint on his leg. He was able to use the walking stick easily to move around, and made his way out to the privy behind the cottage. Once he had put on his shirt and the short pants Isaac had bought for him, he went outside.
He had demonstrated to Isaac that he was good at tying ropes, and he had a natural touch with the mules. Once he was able to balance himself with the walking stick, his strength came in handy when Isaac had to push against the pressure of the water to open the middle gate.
That day, like most, had dawned sunny and warm, and Lenert liked the early hours best, before the mosquitos swarmed over the canal and the sun became too hot. The area around the lock reminded him of the flat, rich land around his home in Prussia, perfect for raising wheat. He recognized many of the trees in the nearby woods from those on the edge of his family farm—the towering pine, the oaks with their lobed leaves, the enormous beech. For the first time since he had left his family, Lenert was at home.
Isaac had already moved the barge through the lock, and Lenert watched his muscles flex as he opened the upper lock gate. Isaac saw him watching and smiled, and Lenert’s heart skipped a beat.
Isaac returned to the cottage for breakfast. When another barge approached after they had finished eating, Isaac went outside and Lenert cleaned up. Then he sat in the big armchair to continue reading the book Isaac had given him. He recognized one of the stories, about a young girl traveling through the forest to visit her grandmother. His mother had told it to him and his sisters, using it to emphasize the danger of walking through the woods, where there were wolves and other predators.
Late in the morning, he carried the book and a kitchen chair outside, where from the front of the cottage he had a clear view of the lock, and then, if he turned, up and down the canal.
In between barges, they talked, Lenert picking up more and more words, repeating them until he understood them. “You are good teacher,” Lenert said late that afternoon.
“My parents wanted that,” Isaac said. “They sent me to college to study.”
Lenert couldn’t keep the surprise from his tone. “But you work here.”
Isaac shrugged. “I hated the city. My parents live in a tiny apartment, like a box, with only one window, and that looks at the street. I couldn’t live like that.”
“But a teacher,” Lenert said. “A good job.”
Isaac shrugged. “So is this. And I live in nature.” He held up the book he had been reading. “This man, he writes about living in the country. On his own.”
“You like that,” Lenert said. His heart sank when he realized what Isaac had said. I am bad for your life.”
“Not at all,” Isaac said, taking his hand. “I am happy you are here.”
Lenert’s hand tingled in Isaac’s grasp. Despite the hard work he did, the lock-keeper’s hands were slim and delicate, so unlike Lenert’s own big paws. Isaac’s were nearly hairless, his nails trim and clean, and a big vein pulsed on the top of each hand. Lenert was embarrassed at how much hair he had on his body – the delicate brown fibers from his arms reached down almost to his fingers, and even those had small patches of hair. His nails were blunter than Isaac’s and they needed to be trimmed.
The touch of their hands was thrilling to him, and he was tempted to lean forward and kiss Isaac, to push him to the ground and have sex with him, right there on the canal bank. But he could not; Isaac was his host, and the things Lenert wanted to do with him were not begun by a guest in someone’s home.
Reluctantly, Lenert let go of Isaac and stood, noting the pain was much less than it had been when he first arrived at the lock. A barge approached, and he walked stiffly back to the pump behind the cottage to prepare a bucket of water for the mules.
They worked hard throughout the rest of the day, and both were too tired when darkness came to do more than sit companionably in the light of the lantern. Isaac was the first in the bed, lying as he had the night before, on his side facing Lenert. Lenert sat on the bed, carefully lifted his bad leg, and rested on his side, his back to Isaac.
There was still a distance between them, so Lenert moved back an inch toward Isaac, and Isaac responded by moving forward, and after a few small movements they were cuddled against each other once more.
Lenert had never slept with a man like that before. Previously, his experiences with men had been quick and lacking intimacy. Even his neighbor had been more focused on the matter of sex and nothing else. This sweet closeness was new to him and it seemed to warm him from the inside out. The slight pressure Isaac placed on his side of the mattress, causing Lenert to lean naturally toward him. The faint smell of the lavender soap they used mixed with Isaac’s sweat. The gentle sound of Isaac’s breath.
Lenert slept easily, waking to find Isaac’s arm over him once again. He rested there for a few moments, relishing the weight over him, the sense of closeness.
Then Isaac woke, retracted his arm, and yawned. Lenert turned on his side to face him and said, “Good morning,” earning a sleepy smile from Isaac.
He let his gaze linger on Isaac’s face, at the slight crease on his cheek where he had slept on the edge of his pillow, at his full pink lips. The tip of Isaac’s tongue snaked out and licked the nighttime dryness from them, and Lenert longed to be able to lean forward and kiss him, to feel the pressure of those lips against his own.
But Isaac turned and lowered his legs to the floor, and the moment passed. Lenert remained in bed a few moments longer, savoring that feeling and wondering if Isaac felt the same way.
Later that morning, between barges, Lenert and Isaac heard the doctor’s horse and cart approaching and went outside to greet him. Isaac took the reins of his horse as the doctor climbed down from his buckboard.
“I had another case on a farm upriver,” he said. “I thought I would stop by and see how my patient is doing.”
“I am well, doctor,” Lenert said. “My leg, it hurts sometimes, but I think is healing.”
The doctor looked astonished. “I thought you did not speak English.”
“I do not,” Lenert said. “Only few words that Isaac teach me.”
“You sound pretty good to me. Though you’re going to have to work on that accent.”
“He’s a fast learner,” Isaac said, and Lenert basked in his approval.
“Let’s see that leg then,” the doctor said. He and Lenert went into the cottage, while Isaac stayed outside to wait for the arrival of another barge.
The doctor took off the splint and the bandages and moved his hands along Lenert’s leg. “Good, good,” he said. “It will be another five or six weeks before you will have full use of it. But you’re healing well.”
Lenert tried to offer the doctor a few coins, but he refused. “This is just a follow up visit,” he said. “As long as I was in the neighborhood.”
Once the doctor left, Lenert stood alone in the cabin. His worries weighed heavily on his heart and the pain in his leg seemed even crueler still after such a pleasant night with Isaac, the sense that they were moving ever closer together.
The news from the doctor should have been encouraging, but instead Lenert was left to wonder what would become of him in a few short weeks. He believed Isaac meant it when he told Lenert he was happy to have him there, and he tried every day to be useful so as not to burden Isaac. But he also knew from Isaac’s own words that he wanted a quiet life on his own. The contradiction threatened to drown Lenert in worry, so he did his best to push it all aside and see what his remaining time with Isaac would bring.
Each night, they slept against each other, and each morning Lenert woke with a painful erection. He spotted Isaac in the same situation once or twice, and wondered if it was just the need to urinate—or were they both reacting to each other in the same way?
Late in the week, Frau Anderson came back down the canal with her barge loaded with coal. Lenert was the first one outside, and he hailed her. “Goot morning, Frau Anderson.”
“Lenert?” She tossed him the bow rope. “You’re still here?”
Lenert grabbed the rope and tied it to the bollard. He was moving more easily, though he still used the walking stick for balance. “The lock-keeper, Isaac, he take me in while my leg mend.”
She cocked her head at him. “I didn’t know you spoke so much English.”
“Isaac, he teach me.”
Her new hoggee, trailed behind the mules, and Frau Anderson threw him the stern rope. “Lenert, meet Patrick,” she said. “Your replacement.”
Lenert reached his hand to the man to shake, which the sullen man did almost resentfully. “Elizabeth says you had a better hand with the mules.”
Lenert didn’t know much about accents in English, but he recognized the Irish lilt in Patrick’s voice. He didn’t make a move to get the mules water, leaving that for Lenert, who hobbled over to the pump.
The man had to be twenty years older than Lenert, with a wiry body and grizzled cheeks. Lenert couldn’t understand why the man was so unpleasant. After all, he had taken Lenert’s job, not the other way around.
By the time he brought the water back Isaac had opened the middle gate and the King Arthur was rising up to the next level. Frau Anderson had hopped off the barge and stood beside Lenert on the canal bank.
“How are the mules?” he asked her, while Patrick lounged in the shade of an oak tree.
“They are well,” she said. “You took good care of them.” She looked at him closely. “How is your leg? I’m sorry I had to leave you here, but I had no choice.”
“Is fine,” he said. “My leg, it heals. And Isaac, he is very kind to let me stay here and work with him.”
“I am glad things worked out. And for me, it left me open to meet Patrick, who has made all the difference in my life. I am no longer a woman on my own, seeing everything as a battle.”
When the King Arthur was floating at the level of the upper lock, Isaac opened the gate, and Patrick finally roused himself to take the reins of the mules.
“Take care of yourself,” Frau Anderson said. He was surprised when she leaned in and hugged him. “You are a good man, Lenert.”
He thanked her and she walked back to the barge. Patrick didn’t even make a move to help her board, just stood there with the mules. Then he slapped the flank of the mule Lenert had named Elsa and they began moving upstream.
Isaac came up to Lenert. “I’ll bet by the time they come back down with the next load, he’s captain of the boat,” Isaac said.
“That man? But he does not even work the mules correctly. Their harnesses were put on wrong. And he is not kind to Frau Anderson.”
“But he’s a man, and she’s a woman,” Isaac said. He looked at Lenert as if he was stupid. He made a circle of the thumb and forefinger on one hand, and moved his other index finger in and out.
Lenert stared at him in astonishment. It was the first time Isaac had said or done anything less than proper.
“You don’t think so?” Isaac asked. “Did Mrs. Anderson ever... ask you?”
Lenert immediately understood the connection between Isaac’s hand movement and his question. He shook his head vehemently. “She think I am stupid because I have no English. But now she is happy with Patrick, she is nicer.”
“Well, she was certainly wrong about your intelligence,” Isaac said. “And If she’s that dumb, then she will be easy prey for that man.”
Lenert didn’t understand. Pray?
“Like the wolf and the sheep,” Isaac clarified. “The wolf is the predator, the sheep the prey.” He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote out the two words, pray and prey, and explained the difference.
“English is very difficult language,” Lenert said.
* * *
ONE OF THE LAST BARGES to come up the canal from Bristol on Saturday afternoon was loaded with goods for sale in Easton and farther up the canal system. It rode heavy in the water, and the mules strained to pull it.
The captain, a red-faced man with a big belly, spoke with Isaac for a while as Lenert watered the mules and watched the water rise in the lock. “The captain took on too much, and he needs to lighten his load,” Isaac said, when he came over to Lenert. “He wants to sell me some of the iron he carries, which I can sell on to the next barge.”
“What kind iron?” Lenert asked.
“Come look with me.” Lenert followed him over to the barge, and once it had floated up to the next level of the canal, they climbed on board. The prow was laden with axes, scythes, sickles and grass hooks.
Lenert had used all that equipment on the farm, and he knew what good tools were like. He hefted each item, moved to the edge of the boat and swung each over his head. A sharp pang of grief grabbed his heart as he held those tools in his hands again, a reminder of the life he had been forced to abandon back in Prussia.
And yet, this new life was filled with so much promise, he had to believe that it had been ordained that he come to it.
Several of the tools were of poor quality, and Lenert put those aside. He made a pile of nearly two dozen tools that weighed a great deal. Isaac negotiated with the captain for those, leaving behind the poorly made ones, and then Lenert and Isaac carried them, one by one, off the boat.
“I wish I could help you more,” Isaac said, watching as Lenert used his crutches for balance.
“I am strong man.” Lenert touched his head. “You are too. And you have brains.”
“You have brains too,” Isaac said, and his glance was so fond that Lenert was embarrassed.
Isaac brought out some bills and coins from the cottage and handed them to the captain. The barge floated much more easily without all that excess weight and they watched it move up the canal, the mules pulling with greater ease.
“Not smart man, that captain,” Lenert said. “Coming down canal barge will be heavy with coal, and mules work very hard. Must give them easier trip up.”
“You learned a lot on your trips,” Isaac said. “I wonder that I never saw you before you broke your leg.”
“Frau Anderson talk to lock-keepers,” Lenert said. “But I see you.”
“You did?”
Lenert looked down at the ground and toed the red clay with his foot. “Yes. I think you very handsome.”
Isaac took Lenert’s hand in his. “You are very kind. Thank you for the help with those tools. I had to spend all my money, but with God’s grace we will make a small profit.”
“I hope,” Lenert said, and smiled. Isaac’s hand in his felt so right. But would they ever move forward from touching hands? Lenert longed for more contact with the handsome lock-keeper, but they were locked into some kind of formal dance that moved them only a single step forward at a time.
How long would he have to wait to kiss Isaac, to touch his smooth skin, to take his long, slender rod in his mouth and suck him with all the skill he had learned in Bremen?
Would Isaac even want that? Perhaps he preferred women after all, but with none around he let himself tease Lenert? Would that matter? He had sucked many men in Bremen who were married to women who would not take them that way, or who were not attractive, or were too occupied with screaming babies and demanding children to pay proper attention to their husbands. Was Isaac a man like that, who would take from other men when there was no woman to satisfy him?
Would that be enough for Lenert?
