WHEN THEY got to Blue’s place, John took one look at the stuff scattered about the room and thought, Fuck it, and told Blue the car was big enough. They would try to take it all.
The mattress wouldn’t fit.
It wasn’t a very nice mattress.
But God, the look on Blue’s face. Nice or not, it was Blue’s mattress, and who was he to say if it was good enough or not? It had been a resting place for Blue for who knew how long? They needed to take it (although he hoped Blue would never sleep on it again).
“We’ll need some rope,” he said.
Blue paused and then cried, “I know where to get some!”
He started to run out the door, but John laughed and told him to wait until they loaded the car.
So they did. They collected clothes and some paperback books, including Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein (one of John’s very favorite books—it had been too long since he’d read it) and The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton (nice to see people still read the book; he’d read it in high school) and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (which he had never liked and had gotten hell for it) and The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky (which he hadn’t heard of, but he was certainly intrigued by the title and thought he would have to ask Blue if he could read it). He was happy that Blue liked to read.
Blue had a harmonica and some of those rubber-band bracelets that he’d seen young people wearing (young like Blue. And somehow that made him laugh), as well as a leather one.
The handful of CDs and DVDs Blue owned bemused John. He wasn’t sure how Blue would have enjoyed them without electricity (but they could certainly do so at John’s house!). Maybe they would watch Avatar tonight.
And then there were the candles. Several boxes of candles of every shape, size, and description, including….
His eyes went wide.
Penis-shaped candles.
And it was clear even to John that these were far too real just to be simply shaped like penises. He tried, but his eyes wouldn’t go back to normal. They stayed wide.
He blushed and put down the candle he’d picked up. The texture of the head was far too real, and he’d seen a penis up close lately after all, and he knew that it was far too real for a sculpture.
John looked at Blue, who was also blushing—furiously—and looking downcast, ashamed, scolded, and… afraid.
“I… I cast them,” Blue said. “I don’t know why. I always thought it was kind of sexy.”
John didn’t know what to say, but somehow he knew he needed to say something, and fairly quickly. But damn! This was way out of his league!
“It makes me know it happened. That someone wanted to be with me, even if only for a day or a night. But now… I… I should throw them all—”
“Who wouldn’t want you?” John blurted, hoping and hoping and hoping it was the right thing to say. “How could anybody not want you? God, Blue. I resisted myself, I resisted men my whole life. Then you came along, and that was it. I was lost.”
Lost? Had he said lost?
Blue looked at him, and John cried, “And I never ever want to be found again.”
Blue smiled. It was radiant. It didn’t stop a single tear from rolling down his cheek, though. “R-really?”
“Would you make one from mine? And”—now John was grinning—“can we make one of yours?”
Blue’s wonderful Cheshire grin was back then, and he said, “Yes! If you want.”
And John did want.
Wasn’t that crazy?
Wasn’t that wild?
Wasn’t that delicious?
Wasn’t that not boring!
John burst into laughter and realized he was getting hard again. He wanted to make love to Blue right here on this soiled mattress, but Chewie… they had to think of Chewie.
So they got everything out to the car and dragged the mattress out there and got it on the roof. Blue held it there precariously with one hand out the window as John drove very, very slowly to another house for one more stop before they went home.
BLUE TOOK John’s hand in his and led him up the little winding walkway to the front door of Mom’s house. There were lights on inside, so he knew she was home, and he knocked and then rang the bell.
“Jesus H. Christ!” came a bellow from the other side of the door.
Blue turned pink and looked up at John. What would he think of Mom?
The door flew open, and there she was. Mom, in all her glory. Her hair was tameishly wild, and so were her eyes, and she was wearing a black and blue-green flowing top and a huge clunky turquoise necklace with matching bobbing earrings.
Mom.
“Oh! It’s you, Kidness! I was just about to give you hell, knocking and ringing before I had a chance to even get up off my couch and…. And…. Why, who is this?” she said, pointing at John with her chin.
“This is John, Mom.”
John gave him a startled look, and Blue opened his mouth to explain, but she pushed the screen door open and stepped out, offering a hand. “Miriam Sheridan,” she said. “He calls me Mom. And that’s okay with me, even though I’m old enough to be his grandma.”
“John Williams,” he replied and then surprised himself by cutting right to the truth and saying, “He calls me John, even though I’m old enough to be his father.”
Her eyes went wide, and she let out a bark of laughter. Elbowing Blue, she invited them in.
“We really don’t have a long time,” John said. “Chewie is at the house, and we’ve already been gone for nearly an hour.”
“Then why are you here?” she asked.
“Rope,” Blue said.
Now she looked back and forth between them. “Rope?” she asked in a way that said she was drawing only one conclusion.
John blushed despite trying to put on a brave face, and Blue burst into giggles, and then they stumbled over each other trying to explain about the mattress.
But she held up a hand, showing today’s rings were turquoise as well. “Nit, nit, nit! I don’t want to hear. You’re both adults. If you want rope for your mattress, who am I to criticize or ask for details?”
She did command them to make a reappearance, and soon, “And you bring that dog of yours. I need to meet him!” But John countered with a proposal that she come to “their” place instead—
Blue thought he’d swoon.
—for dinner, and that way Chewie wouldn’t have to be moved unnecessarily.
Blue sighed happily, and Mom elbowed him again, a little more discreetly, and whispered, “What a hottie. I’d hold on to this one for a while.”
If Blue had anything to say about it, he would.
Blue’d had too much taken from him in his life—takings that left him devastated. Instead he decided to take some advice he’d heard going to Camp Sanctuary each year, where only one bad—very bad—thing had ever taken place.
He decided to hold on to John all right. But with an open hand. Not grasping. But certainly not pushing away. He decided in that very moment that he was going to enjoy every minute with Mr. John Not-boring Williams and thank God for each and every one.
And when it was time for John to go away?
Maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be so painful.