The Last Time
“This is great shit,” Liko said. “The prism of abandonment, Christ, I can go for a month on that one.”
“I thought for sure you were a petrified turd kind of guy.”
“That’ll be my kicking-around-the-house-in-sweats attitude. When I have to go out in public, it’ll be with the prism of abandonment.” Liko’s smile slowly faded. “Who are we kidding, though. The only attitude is, At the end of the day, I just want my fucking people back.”
They were quiet a long time.
“In the year of whatever lord there is, twenty-thirty-four,” Liko said, “I will be seventy-two.”
“Why’s that significant?”
“It’ll be seventeen years since Kyle died. Then the time I live without him will become longer than the time I lived with him.”
“Fuck,” Dane murmured.
“It’s the kind of shit I think about. This is who I am and what I do, my friend.”
“You’re the Green Man,” Dane said. “A soul older than God. You watch everything. Then you write the stories.”
Liko smiled. “And you’re what? A single hare left running?”
“I’ll always be part of a three,” Dane said. “I am polyamorous. That is, I know I can love within that paradigm. I just don’t know if I want to again.”
“Try to find out before you sleep with me,” Liko said. “Because I don’t share well with others.”
“With you, I can see myself getting into single-minded possession.”
“Or maybe I’ll just ruin you.”
“Maybe.”
The windows were darkening but Dane hadn’t turned on the kitchen lights.
He reached for the little red Bic and lit the table’s candle.
The wick sputtered high, then mellowed. The two men sat quietly in the softening evening, watching the flame burn.
As Dane’s fingers spun the lighter round and round on the table, Liko sensed a tremor of deep, repressed emotion.
The vibe coming off Dane was almost shamed.
“What are you thinking?” Liko asked. “You’re remembering something.”
“The night before he left the farm, Ethan and I had a banger of a fight. One for the road and we left it all on the floor. I said some rotten stuff to him. Unforgivable things.”
“Tell me. I’ll judge what’s forgivable and what isn’t.”
“I couldn’t take hearing how I’d be free to be with a man the way I’d always wanted.
His words. Like it all came down to sex and with Nomi gone, Ethan assumed he couldn’t be enough for me.
He was pulling the plug before I could, and nothing I said could convince him otherwise.
This is what we argued about, all day long every day.
But that last night, I was out of fucks to give.
I wanted to kill him and I knew just how to do it.
I said, Good. I’m free. You know what I’m gonna do first?
I’m gonna find some hot piece of beefcake and let him fuck the shit out of me.
I’m gonna get a goddamn bear to take my ass to church, the way you never could.
I’m gonna find out what it’s really like to get fucked by a man.
A real man. I’m getting everything I couldn’t get from you. I’m going into Grindr with an agenda…”
Liko gave a low whistle.
“I regret it,” Dane said. “God, I’d do anything to go back and sew my lips shut, keep that shit in the silence of my heart.”
“We all say thoughtless things when we’re pissed off.”
“It was worse than thoughtless. It was a cheap potshot at his identity. It was cruel. I knew it would hurt him, I knew exactly how to hurt him and I did. It felt good, too. For all of five seconds.”
“He hurt you, too. Hell, I probably would’ve said all that, then punched him.”
“I should’ve decked him instead of saying what I said. I should’ve… Fuck, I don’t know.”
“I hear you,” Liko said, with a thunderous sigh. “Should’ve is my daily mantra. I was snoring away when Kyle died. Blissfully nodded off to the sound of the shower. Fast asleep as that shower went on and on and on and on…”
“Oh, man,” Dane said, his face in a palm. “Why is life is such a cunt?”
“Why did I send him to bed that night? I should’ve dragged out the victory. Encouraged him. No, don’t wait until tomorrow. Forget what I said about putting twenty-four hours between impulse and action. Do it now. Fuck school, I’ll call you in sick. You start writing a post, I’m gonna make popcorn…”
“You had no idea,” Dane said. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I know, I know. It was an aneurysm. It was gonna blow no matter what. That blood vessel still would’ve burst, but it would’ve happened right in front of me.
I could’ve called 911 in a nanosecond. Started CPR.
Done something besides sleep through it.
And I can’t stop obsessing about that any more than you can stop wishing to go back and shut your mouth.
I don’t know if it was the aneurysm that killed him, or if he drowned in the tub.
All I can do is pray it was fast. Painless.
Hope to God he wasn’t scared. Didn’t call out for me and I didn’t hear and— Christ, would you stop me already?
What kind of friend are you, letting me blather on? ”
“The worst friend,” Dane said.
Liko scrubbed at his face. “I’m sorry. That was a trauma-dump when you were trying to tell me something important.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“Nothing matters to them,” Dane said. “I mean, nothing can hurt Kyle or Nomi. It’s just you and me left, handling all the hurt.”
“We’re not even drinking,” Liko groaned into his hands.
He looked up and they stared at each other a time, the pained laughter and smiles slowly fading. Then Dane got up.
“Move back,” he said, pushing at one of Liko’s shoulders.
Liko slid his chair back, and Dane straddled his legs and sat down in his lap. He scooted close, wrapped arms around Liko’s neck and put his face in the curve of Liko’s shoulder.
“This okay?” he said.
Liko could barely speak, suddenly flooded with an emotion so complex and elusive, so immense, it seemed the kitchen could barely contain it, let alone his lap.
“Just hold me a minute,” Dane whispered.
Liko was shaking now, unable to understand what was happening. He sat, trembling and frozen, willing his arms to move. Finally they lifted, and he slid his palms beneath the open sides of Dane’s hoodie and around to his back.
“More,” Dane said.
Tears flooded Liko’s eyes as his arms tightened a little, then a little more. The knot of their limbs slowly drew close and small, settling into place. Chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat.
It was all in Liko’s arms.
Back in his arms.
What is it? His thoughts were a wind spinner. Three thoughts chasing each other counter-clockwise:
What am I holding? What am I feeling? What is happening?
Danelaw Strong was a small man and now Liko knew the reason why.
The years of forced growth hormone had barely gotten Dane past five feet six.
One of his myriad failings in Ivelaw Strong’s eyes.
If his son couldn’t be tall, Ivelaw would make him strong.
So started the years of testosterone supplements, the weight training and conditioning, and the strict regulation of calories in, calories out.
The grooming, the policing, the humiliating exams and inspections.
All with the goal of destroying Diane and making a man out of Dane.
He had escaped that terrorized regime, left the worst of it behind and kept the better habits.
He created a new body of his own, not to please anyone, but to keep Diane safe.
To allow her to exist where she’d always wanted to be: inside Dane.
He was a small man, but he was hard and lean.
The power in his long muscles was a guarded secret he could unleash on demand, with awesome effect. And yet…
And yet in Liko’s arms…
And yet…
What? Liko thought desperately. What is… What?
He dared to draw it closer, bury his nose in it and inhale. Fabric softener and skin. Freshness and musk. Sweet and sweat. The unique blend of elemental scent that was so…
Young? Liko thought, the tears now streaming down his face.
Insane. This was a forty-six-year-old man.
But also a man who needed a month on HRT to achieve five o’clock shadow.
Liko lifted his head off Dane’s shoulder and tilted it to rub his temple along Dane’s smooth jaw.
“Hey,” he whispered, barely audible because what he felt teetered on the edge of forbidden. Hey, kiddo, he wanted to say, but didn’t dare.
What was he doing?
This was a grown man.
But for one, single, beautiful, magical, impossible, belief-suspending moment…
It was a boy.
“Oh my God,” Liko whispered, awash with feeling, thinking he might choke.
Time was a thief. One day your young son would sit in your lap and you had no way of knowing it would be the last time.
It wasn’t like he knew either, and made an announcement: “No more lap time after this, Pop.” It happened gradually but the realization was painfully sudden.
Like realizing you hadn’t seen his bare ass in a while.
One day you lifted your head with a startled “Huh,” thinking how long it had been since that little boy sat in your lap.
Or wrapped both arms and legs around you when you picked him up.
The last time had been the last time, and you didn’t even notice.
You still hugged, of course. You wrestled, you canoodled, you roughhoused, but never again would you feel all that boy weight limp on your legs and snuggled into your chest. Where you could wrap both arms around it and inhale the freshness of his clothes and the tinge of earthy sweat on his skin.
Liko felt himself seize, body and mind. This wasn’t right. This was inappropriate. It was wrong to be holding a grown man he was sexually attracted to and be thinking of his dead son. And yet…
And yet.
Sex was the furthest thing from Liko’s mind. All this evoked youth and beauty and remembrance in his arms—he didn’t want to kiss it, caress it, strip it bare and fuck it.
He only wanted to hold it.
Feel it.
Remember it.
Time was a thief. But sometimes, once in a great while, it brought back what it had stolen and let you hold it one last time.
Liko’s mouth shaped his son’s name with no sound, arms closing tighter and tighter around this unexpected present. For this boy-man soft in his arms, heavy in his lap, was nothing less than a gift. A portal to an alternate Universe. A divine proxy. A single last chance to hug Kyle.
“It’s all right,” Dane whispered, his hand sliding to the back of Liko’s neck. Then fingers digging up into his hair. “Don’t let go.”
If the stove exploded or the ceiling collapsed, Liko wouldn’t have let go. He was crying now and instead of excruciating and toxic, the grief was glorious. Clean. Pure.
It was all sitting in his lap and it was magnificent.
Dane rocked on the fulcrum of Liko’s legs, his hand strong on Liko’s head. “It’s all right,” he said, over and over.
“Oh my God,” Liko said, over and over.
“Hold on.”
“Oh my God, you don’t know.”
“I do know,” Dane whispered. “I know everything. This is everything. Just hold onto it.”