Chapter 17 #2
I don’t know what the fuck kind of key I’m supposed to be, but they want Johnny to come home.
They want my Johnny to leave our lovely little homestead and return to theirs.
To be a farmer, of all things. Johnny’s not a farmer.
He’s a welder. He makes things out of metal, and he seems to enjoy it.
Or maybe he just enjoys the atmosphere. Either way, he takes solid steel, I’m assuming, and burns it down, just to build something better in its place.
That’s what he’s done with me. It’s what they’ve both done with me.
They built me better than I ever was before, all the hurt of yesterday not gone, but slightly forgotten.
I don’t stay scared, the way I did before them.
I don’t even have to masturbate to my BFF Austin’s OnlyFans content anymore, just so I can feel secure.
Bubba and Johnny do that now. They’ve made me better. They’re loving me whole.
And now the Boyds want to take him away with their unwashed hands and ice-cold hearts, but they can’t have him.
They can’t have him, because I’ve only just gotten him, and I’m feeling a lot of really big, scary feelings I never expected to feel.
He feels the same. I know he does, because he told me.
If they take him from me, he won’t have anyone.
There aren’t any gay people in Dunsberry.
There isn’t a whole lot more than immediate family, from the way he’s described it, and none of them can protect his frightened heart. Not like me. Not like Bubba.
Not happening. Not now, maybe not ever. Probably not ever.
Fuck it.
Never.
I take a step back, meaning to return to our room so I can share the news, but a floorboard creaks, and their conversation comes to an abrupt pause.
“What was that?” Pete asks, but Ladonna doesn’t respond. A few moments later, she rounds the corner.
“Ezra?”
“Hi. Hey. Hi there, Ms. Boyd.”
She screws up her face in a frown. “It’s Ladonna, sugar. You can just call me Ladonna.”
“My stepmother taught me to always be respectful of ladies.” I take a step back, but Ladonna matches it with a step forward.
“And what a lovely gentleman you are,” she says, and she sounds sincere. She almost sounds proud. “Baby, I don’t know what you heard, but I can assure you, it’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it? What’s going on?”
“I like you, Ezra,” she says to me, cupping my cheek for some strange reason.
Queerer still, I don’t pull away. I simply stand here, allowing it to happen.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt comfort from a woman.
It’s what I assume most would describe as maternal affection, but I don’t know anything about that.
Even when I had a stepmom, she was never the way Ladonna is with Johnny.
She never cared. She wasn’t a mom, even back then.
I got five short years with my real mom, and the only memories I have are the ones Barbara plays in my mind to remind me.
It isn’t fair. I should’ve had a mom like Ladonna.
Someone who was there. Someone kind. Maybe it won’t be so bad.
Maybe we can all just move to Dunsberry.
We’ve done it before, when we all moved here.
“Please,” I whisper, gripping her hand. “Please don’t take him from me. He’s mine. He’s mine, and I’m his. If you’re going to take him, you have to take me too. And Bubba. I love him.”
And there the fuck it is. Truth.
I love him. I love them both.
“I know you do. We’re not trying to take him away from you, Ezra.
We’re just—” There’s the sound of chair legs scraping against wood, then Pete’s big, clobbersome feet crashing against the floorboards.
When he rounds the corner, his face is red like he’s just jogged a marathon.
His big brown eyes are narrowed into slits as he stares at his mother, brimmed with bitterness and resentment, I’m assuming.
After hearing their conversation, bitterness would be my guess, but Pete is hill folk, and who the hell knows what goes through the mind of hill folk?
“We’re at our limit, sweetie. We can’t keep the crops tended.
We just don’t have enough hands on deck. ”
“So, you’re what …? Here to kidnap him?”
Her eyes bulge. “Kidnap? Baby, no. We want him to—”
“Johnny,” I scream, because fuck this. Fuck them, fuck their plans, and fuck their fucking lives. No one takes Johnny away from me. No one.
“Sugar, I promise, if you’ll just let us explain.”
“Bubba!” I cry out.
“We tried it your way,” Pete tells his mother, reaching into his pocket. When he pulls his hand out, he’s holding an uncapped syringe.
“I don’t think that’s a safe place to store that,” I tell him, because it’s not, and he’s going to end up stabbing himself.
Pete snickers. “Listen, little man. I like you. I hope you won’t hold this next part against me.”
“What do you mean?”
Instead of answering, he lifts the syringe, then plunges it into my belly like he’s trying to gut me or something.
It isn’t particularly painful, but the surprise is enough to leave me breathless.
I clutch Pete’s shirt as he shoves the plunger down, injecting me with God knows what.
When he removes the needle, I take a stumbling step to the side, gaping at him.
Slowly, I slide down the wall, and Pete holds me by the hip, his touch kind.
It’s a stark contrast to the whole drugging situation, but he carefully lowers me to the floor, and there’s concern and care in his eyes.
It’s a smorgasbord of emotions, and I asked for none of them.
“What—what was in there?”
Pete cups my cheek and forces a smile. “You’re going to get sleepy. Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”
I shove his hand away and open my mouth to scream for Bubba or Johnny, but nothing comes out. My tongue is heavy, and my vision is going black around the edges.
“For God’s sake,” Ladonna growls at her son. “Was that really necessary? I told you it was only in case of an emergency. We have no idea who the people are in Texas. What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
“My parents live in Texas,” I slur. “Hate my dad. Hate my stepmom.”
Ladonna’s eyes widen. “Of course.” She looks at Pete, who seems to understand what her mouth isn’t saying.
Pete stares at me, almost frantic. “Where do they live, little man? Do you know the address?”
I try to speak, but nothing comes out, so I point at my wallet in the bowl by the door.
Pete rushes over and grabs the bowl before returning, turning the bowl over and letting everyone’s wallets fall to the floor.
Austin’s is pink, with a big picture of Sailor Moon in the middle, and it smacks me right in the forehead when it lands.
I manage the strength to lift my arm and flip Pete off. “Prick.”
Pete lifts my wallet—purple with silver crescent moons—and asks, “Is this it?”
I nod, because it’s kind of my pride and joy.
Inside, there’s a postcard my father sent to Austin’s house, in hopes that it might find me.
It’s just an old family Christmas card, me excluded, and there’s a nasty note on the back, telling me how much happier they were without me.
Telling me to never come back. Telling me I’d be better off killing myself than spreading my fag filth across town.
Folded in half I can’t see the hate, only the smiling face of my dad.
I can almost pretend like it wasn’t all bad.
I can almost pretend like he still loves me.
“Great.” Ladonna scolds. “This is just great. You’ve probably scared the poor boy out of his mind.” I’m unable to move, every muscle in my body feeling sluggish and impossibly heavy. She touches my face again. I don’t pull away. “Don’t be scared, Ezra. I’m right here. Momma Ladonna is right here.”
Momma.
I sniffle, because I haven’t had one of those in a really long time.
“Help,” I whisper, but it’s loud enough for her to hear.
“There’s nothing for anyone to help you with.
I promise, you’re safe, I won’t let anything happen to you.
” she assures me, even though I don’t feel safe in the slightest. She runs her fingers through my hair.
“Your hair is beautiful. All pink like the buttercups that grow out back in the meadow, back home. You’re going to love it there, sugar.
You and I are going to be such good friends.
” She strokes my cheek again. “Barbara made it very clear that you and I are going to be very good friends.”
“Johnny,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Bubs.” I close my eyes—just to rest them for a second—and when I do, Pete breathes what sounds like a sigh of relief.
“Thank God. Okay, now that he’s out, we just need to—”
Whatever he’s saying sounds like it’s said through a mouth filled with marbles.
It doesn’t even sound like words, just random vowels strung together with no real rhyme or reason for their placement.
I think I hear him mention Jaden, but I can’t be sure.
All I know is my eyes won’t open, I’m scared and lonely, and I want my boyfriends.
There’s a scuffle in the background, and I think I hear Austin’s voice, but then the whole world fades, me along with it.