Hadrian's Lover (11 page)

Todd is not looking forward to going back to school. Breaking up with Devon was so sudden and unexpected that Todd is left profoundly confused and isolated. Devon refuses to answer any of his wave messages, and Papa Mike never seems to be around these days, leaving Todd with no one to talk to. Compounding the matter is that Frank and Crystal are miffed at him. He never called either of them over summer vacation, being too busy dating, and now when he calls Frank, all he gets is “Can’t talk, Todd; I’m busy.” Whenever he tries calling Crystal, all he gets is a generic recording telling him “Crystal Albright is currently unavailable.”
She must have turned off her phone,
Todd reasons. Now it’s Sunday night, and tomorrow is the first day of school. Todd knows his classes. His first class is math with Ms. Sterne (which causes him to grimace), followed by Hadrian history with Mr. Reiner (which brings on a smile). Frank and Crystal are taking those classes, too. Last spring during fall registration (and pre-Devon), the three friends had tried to get into as many of the same classes as possible, but they weren’t so successful with the afternoon. After lunch, Todd has physical education while Crystal is studying world religion and Frank is taking fashion studies. For their last class of the day, Todd is enrolled in agricultural sciences, Frank in cosmetology, and Crystal has a spare.
At least I’ll be with my friends in the morning, or will I?
Todd wonders. Worried, Todd realizes he should have made an effort to spend time with his friends over the summer, but Devon had sucked up all of his time.

His break-up with Devon hits Todd hard. He really thought they were forming a strong friendship, granted a friendship in which Todd felt obliged to kiss, but they were sharing some really deep thoughts. They talked about the concept of a god or gods, and why some of Hadrian’s citizens still believed in these deities regardless of the obvious hate literature toward
homosexuals in many of their holy texts. They also argued over whether Hadrian citizens had subconsciously made gods of Hadrian and Antinous, and both expressed confusion over why some citizens slipped outside the wall, simply to vanish. Why anyone would want to live in the outside world was unfathomable. And they always shared a good laugh over the boys’ and girls’ washrooms remaining segregated. “That is so
strai
,” Devon would always say. “I know; how stupid,” Todd would respond, and then they both would utter, “Like, that makes any sense!” That this expression was simultaneous every time the boys had this conversation always made them laugh. But, most of all, they had shared a love of b-ball. Todd had really brought Devon a long way with the game. Without doubt, Devon is now first string material.
B-ball’s going to be toughest of all,
Todd realizes.
But I’ll make it work, somehow. It’s good for the team,
he reckons,
and I will recommend Devon to Coach Miller.
As always, when it comes to b-ball, Todd lines up the team and its various positions in his mind.
Frank is center,
he decides.
He’s tall, fast, and is almost unbeatable with his jump ball. Crystal is point guard, I’m shooting guard, Millicent will take small forward, and Devon will be perfect as power forward.
The thought
Devon will be perfect
cloaks Todd like a dark cloud shadowing over the moon. Todd is so confused about his feelings for Devon; at times, he simply can’t contain his emotions.

Everything with Devon happened so fast and ended just as quickly. Todd still hasn’t gotten over the staggering blow. What Todd fails to understand is that Devon, too, is smarting. While Todd was building a friendship, Devon was falling in love. When Devon had asked Todd out, he wasn’t looking for a friend, he was looking for a lover; and although he tried hard to understand that Todd needed to go slow, when he saw in Todd’s eyes that they would never make love, he lashed out, angrily tossing Todd aside. Devon is now a walking wound, and thoughts of Todd, the very sight of him, are like salt water for him.

Day one of school is brutal. Todd and Devon are in the first three classes together. Devon inevitably arrives early and is already sitting in Ms. Sterne’s math class when Todd walks in. As soon as he sees Todd, Devon starts singing an old tune dating back to the late twentieth century: “Day Tripper” by some group called the Bugs or the Beetles. But Devon knows the group, he knows the song; his mothers are music historians. Actually, both women are librarians. Music history is their passion, and though they call themselves music historians, no one in Hadrian gets
paid for acquiring such knowledge. At any rate, Devon is able to take full advantage of their quirk and taunt Todd with it. At first, Todd has no idea what Devon is saying with that song, but eventually, the words take on meaning. Devon is calling Todd a tease through these antiquated lyrics. Someone who leads a man on, only to refuse to follow through on promises made.
But I never made any promises,
Todd insists.
Or did I?
Every kiss, he realizes now, was a subtle intonation. With that sudden self-awareness, Todd begins the process of self-recrimination. Once the seed of self-recrimination has been planted, all it needs is a good dose of self-loathing to keep it well watered.

By the end of school’s first week, Devon has a new boyfriend, Roger Hunter, Frank’s little brother. Roger, now in grade nine, is thrilled to be Devon’s new beau since it means he is dating one of the big boys. When Todd sees them walking arm-in-arm or kissing goodbye in the hallway, he feels a pang of hurt. He knows Devon brings Roger to their classroom door to kiss him goodbye, to rub into Todd’s face that it took him no time at all to find a replacement.

Finally, Frank caves and asks Todd to hang out again. He has been watching his friend from a distance and can see how dejected Todd has become. Although jealous that Todd spent his summer dating Devon and not him, Frank can’t bear to witness Todd always walking with his shoulders down, never a smile on his face, eating alone—Hadrian only knows where—
no
, Franks reminds himself,
I know where he is
. When Todd feels the need to hide, there is only one place in the school he can go—behind the back stairwell leading up to the girls’ locker room. Crystal designated this “the safe space” when she discovered the security camera broken last year. The three gay caballeros refuse to share this safely guarded secret with anyone else.

Frank decides it’s time to go looking for Todd. He has started skipping out of class, something hitherto unheard of. Todd’s Papa Mike stresses the importance of good grades and b-ball since he cannot afford to pay for Todd’s higher education. Frank knows Todd wouldn’t skip class unless something was really wrong in his life. Todd may have hurt him, but Todd is still his best friend and he will always love him. “Hey, buddy,” he calls out before showing himself. “You hiding back there?”

“Frank?” Todd’s heart rises slightly at the sound of his friend’s voice. “You talking to me again?”

“Yeah,” Frank sighs as he swings in underneath the stairs to join Todd. “I guess it’s time to get over my hissy fit.”

“I’m sorry I ditched you this summer.” Todd is sincere. He realizes now how much he misses his friends. Two weeks alone can be brutal when you are used to constant attachments with others—especially when home life is even emptier than the school halls. “I don’t know what happened, really. It was like the summer with Devon turned into a whirlwind. He picked me up, spun me around like a twig, and then shot me out at the end of it.”

“I guess you really liked Devon, eh?” Frank asks, trying hard to hide his disappointment.

“I thought we were…” Todd is truly befuddled. “I don’t know—connecting on some level.” Looking over to Frank, slightly misty-eyed, he adds, “Like you and me used to be.”

“Yeah,” Frank sighs. “I know.” Considering his behavior last June, Frank admits, “It’s kind of my fault, too. I did stand you up that one Friday.”

“Yeah,” Todd agrees, “the day Devon asked me out.”

Nodding, Frank says, “I was busy dating Davie, and you were looking for a surrogate friend.” After musing for a moment, he says, “And I’ll bet any amount of credit that Devon was just looking for a boyfriend. He’s certainly found one in Roger.” Wincing, knowing he just touched on a sore topic, Frank adds, “Sorry, Todd.”

“That’s all right.” Although they sting, Todd realizes Frank’s words were not meant to hurt. “He had to move on. I guess I ought to as well. It’s just hard when—”

“When you’re all alone?”

“Yeah,” Todd says, looking over to his friend. “I had no idea how important you and Crystal were to me until you two decided I was no longer worth the effort.”

“Well, I got over it.” Slapping Todd’s thigh as reassurance, Frank adds, “I’m sure Crystal will too.”

Todd’s sigh of relief is audible. “Thanks for taking me back.”

“We’re friends, the best of friends, man,” Frank confirms. “And that is never going to change. Come on,” he invites, slapping Todd playfully. “Let’s go find Crystal. It’s time to get the three gay caballeros back together again!”

It is an undeniable truth that autumn in Hadrian is one of the loveliest times of the year. By mid-September, the leaves will begin their glorious changing of color. By October, they will dance in the air on their branches in a beautifully golden array. Such beauty will flicker on the limbs of the various trees in our northern boreal forest for a good month, so now is the time to take advantage of this incredible beauty. And where better to enjoy such sights than at The Cattle Ranch, stretching along the northern bank of the Churchill River? The five hundred acres owned by Jake Matonabee and Jeremy Stoker also extend north in a blended mixture of pastureland and boreal forest. Needless to say, the trail rides across their land offer some of Hadrian’s most beautiful views, especially now that fall is approaching.

As well as producing beef and mutton for our consumption, leather for coats and boots, and wool for our winter clothing, The Cattle Ranch is renowned for its horseback riding. It offers a variety of vacation packages as well as day rides. A stay at The Cattle Ranch is all inclusive: your room, three meals a day, and all the horseback riding you can handle—they offer three trail rides a day! One of the best parts of visiting The Cattle Ranch is that you are introduced to your horse the morning after your arrival. You will ride this horse your entire stay at The Cattle Ranch, and the proprietors encourage you to bond with your horse by helping with its grooming. They will teach you how to brush your horse down before and after your day’s ride. You can job shadow the wrangler if you want, and depending on how long your stay is and how much upper body strength you possess, you may even be taught how to saddle the horse yourself. Don’t worry, though; no one has to clean up horse manure. The hired hands take care of that job.

Seriously, though, the best part about The Cattle Ranch is its historical
value. It has chosen to operate (as do all farming institutions, be they family or corporate) as did those ranches of old, modeling their style on the mid to late nineteenth century. Horse, mule, oxen, and human power are the rule. It makes sense when you think about it. No large trucks or tractors are allowed in Hadrian due to the excessive use of fossil fuel required to operate such machinery. With a complete ban on all fossil fuels in Hadrian, one is restricted to operating all devices on electric, hydro, wind, or geothermal energy. According to Jake Matonabee, the decision to work as of old came about forty-eight years ago when the farming community met and determined that historical farming was the best possible approach. “It is,” as Matonabee says, “a positive environmentally sound approach to working the land and raising cattle. With livestock comes animal waste, which we then recycle into fertilizer.” When asked about using biomass energy to run larger equipment, Matonabee was adamant in his rejection. “It still releases carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.” Even though the carbon dioxide released by biomass balances out with the carbon dioxide absorbed in its growth, The Cattle Ranch and Farmers Association rejected its use since it removed from them all possibility of tax rebates. Hadrian’s government is very generous when it comes to rebates given to any individual or company, with proven methods of reclamation and meeting high environmental standards. More importantly, according to Matonabee, ancient methods of farming and ranching require the community to work collectively during planting, crop growth (weeding and insect control), the birthing of and rounding up of livestock, and, most especially, harvest. As we well know, the use of fossil fuels, all chemical pesticides, and herbicides are illegal in Hadrian, which has led to the choice of a much simpler lifestyle in rural areas. As a result, when one visits The Cattle Ranch, one walks through a veritable vortex in time, stepping out of the twenty-second century into the year 1878.

Vale!

Although back on the Seroxat, Dean still suffers from low days, remaining uncomfortable in his skin. Too much of his time is spent in morbid contemplation. Struggling to find value and worth in his life, Dean tries to focus his mind on days that were good—all those times when he truly did feel in love with Geoffrey and believed he wanted to be with him. Today, his thoughts are centered on the first time he lay down with Geoffrey. This was a time of bonding, an awakening and strengthening of their love. Dean, desperately needing to feel this way again, indulges in the memory of their second anniversary. Knowing, on this day, Seroxat isn’t enough, Dean takes two milligrams of Zolam, allowing its altering powers to stupefy him. His mind, feeling free now, contemplates his and Geoffrey’s second anniversary.

Twenty years ago, as it is today, The Cattle Ranch was nestled in the rolling hills and forests of Quadrant Three. As well as pasturing their livestock (horses, cattle), Jake Matonabee and Jeremy Stoker, owners and proprietors, cut numerous riding trails across their land for paid ranch guests. Yet, not all of this land was reserved for cattle and horseback riding. Jeremy’s little sister, Sissy Hildebrand, ran the sheep herd in the northern, more remote section. Sissy, being straight, had chosen a life of isolation to avoid being found out. Jeremy, then and now, knows well his sister’s sexual preference, and not only does he accept her, but he has worked hard over the years to help her keep her secret effectively concealed. Even so, he often encourages her to find a woman with whom she can live—someone to register with for security reasons—but she is always ardently opposed.
Her one concession is to hire only women for hands. Taking her brother’s advice, she has never hired any men. “Avoid temptation, Sissy,” Jeremy always cautions her. “That way no one can expose and expel you.” Today, Sissy is forty-six. When Dean and Geoffrey visited the ranch, she was but twenty-six years old. Even then, she was far too old for reeducation camp. Her fate would be worse than death if her secret were known.

Always irate at the implication behind Jeremy’s repetitious lecture, Sissy’s retort is like a broken record: “I don’t think of sex every time I look at a man. It doesn’t work that way, you know!”

“I know, Sissy,” Jeremy always replies in consolation. “I didn’t mean that—it’s just, well, even the wrong glance a man’s way can lead to suspicion.” Twenty years ago, the conversation was even more perverse. “Even Jake,” Jeremy one day sprang on her, “has questioned your sexuality more than once.”

“What did you say?” Terror welled in Sissy’s breast.

“I told him he was being stupid—that you just don’t have much opportunity to meet women. So he asked if that’s why you only hired women—in hopes of meeting someone and I said yes.”

After a long sigh of relief, Sissy said, “Thank you.”

These conversations between Sissy and Jeremy about her sexual orientation always end with Sissy bursting into ire. “I hate having to feel this way. It’s not fair!”

“It is what it is, Sissy.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” she always grumbles.

“I know.”

“Nor is it any answer.”

“I know that, too, Sissy, but,” he inevitably adds with a sigh, “it’s all I’ve got to offer.”

Such conversations only occur when they meet in person—and when they are alone. Fortunately, Jake stopped expressing his concern fifteen years ago. That was only after Sissy actually hired a man as a sheepherder and Jeremy was no longer required to travel north all the time to help her.

For their second anniversary, Geoffrey brought Dean to The Cattle Ranch. After having seen a picture of the original Marlboro Man in the Antinous
City Center Museum and being impressed by its resemblance to his partner, Geoffrey searched the wave for information on The Cattle Ranch. It was just as he had hoped it would be—Geoffrey was pleased to discover it offered vacation packages. For two thousand five hundred credits per person, the all-inclusive package included three square meals a day, a horse to ride and care for every day during the five night, four day stay (with as many as three trail rides a day), walking trails, camping options, even job shadowing for those who were interested in learning the everyday workings of an historical ranch.

At twenty, Dean was tall, lean, muscular, and coltish. He had been broken, though, roughly at the hands of his guardian at the Northeast Reeducation Camp. Only Geoffrey’s supportive, gentle ways kept him from committing suicide. Although having been married for two years, the two men had yet to consummate their registration. Geoffrey had won Dean’s respect and love, the two men having formed a strong friendship, yet Dean still shied away from sexual contact. Holding hands, wrapping arms about each other’s waists, hugging, and even occasional experimentation with kissing occurred. But thus far, kissing, if held onto too long by Geoffrey, had only ever ended with Dean pulling away. Bringing Dean to The Cattle Ranch for their second year Registration Celebration was not an attempt on Geoffrey’s part to seduce Dean. He had come to accept, long ago, that winning Dean would take time—even that it might never happen. Mike Fulton and he often confided in one another about their frustrations, both having partnered with a straight, and many times, it seemed as if neither would ever win the sexual love of his partner. Mike would succumb to despair more often than Geoffrey, and the two men spent many an evening or Sunday afternoon venting out their frustrations. They had even considered partnering with each other on the side, but that idea never did come to fruition since, for both Geoffrey and Mike, it was as much about bonding with the man one loves as it was about sexual fulfillment. “True sexual fulfillment,” Geoffrey reasoned one night during these conversations with Mike, “comes from making love with the man you love. It’s not just about ejaculating and feeling good physically. It’s about feeling good with and for someone you love.”

“But what if Will never comes around?” Mike was despondent. Then, after looking hard at Geoffrey, he expressed concern for his friend. “What if Dean won’t?”

“I don’t know,” was Geoffrey’s reply. “This is brutally hard. I masturbate a lot. I wish—I hope—I just don’t know.” Then he looked Mike’s way. “The fact is, we both knew what we were marrying ourselves into. Will was open and frank with you. Dean, I met at reeducation. I know he only pretended to be cured,” after snorting, “with my help. I know for a fact he only took my last name to avoid—”

“Avoid what?”

“Nothing.”

Mike let the question drop. Once Geoffrey decided to clam up there was no hope of getting any more out of him. He just waited patiently for the man to continue.

“Although I’d like to think he married me out of love,” Geoffrey added despairingly, “our marriage was just an opportunity to him to escape reeducation.”

“Then why did you marry him?” Mike asked gravely.

“The same reason you married Will. I fell in love. He’s my other half. All I can do is hope one day he’ll be ready to share himself with me.”

So, twenty years ago, when Dean came into their cabin room and sat down on the bed next to where he lay, Geoffrey was taken completely by surprise to hear Dean say he thought he was ready. It was late, well past the midnight hour. Geoffrey had left Dean sitting by the mock fire (a geothermal heater designed to look like a small campfire) with Jeremy Stoker telling stories about horses, cattle ranching, and singing old country songs for their amusement.

Sitting up, still half-asleep, at first Geoffrey thought he might be dreaming. “Really?” He asked bewildered. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Although his reply was in the affirmative, Dean was shaking, his voice so low Geoffrey could barely hear him. Not looking at Geoffrey but sitting hunchbacked on the edge of the bed, holding his hands atop his legs, rubbing the palms together nervously, Dean was avoiding eye contact.

After pulling himself closer to Dean, Geoffrey gently held his chin in his hand, turning Dean to face him. Dean’s eyes were closed. Geoffrey noticed the tears. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, my love,” he said soothingly. His body was aching, desire for Dean overwhelming him.

Dean nodded his head, “I…” He shook his head, “I—do…” He nodded once more. “…want to. We…” He opened his eyes, looking directly into Geoffrey’s, seeing in them an honest expression of love. Before him sat a
man who would do anything for him. As he burst into tears, Dean blurted out, “I love you, Geoffrey, but I’m afraid.”

Cupping Dean’s face in his hands, Geoffrey reassured him, “I love you too, and I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Then…” Dean swallowed. Turning his face, he kissed the palm of Geoffrey’s hand, “make love to me.”

As the two men kissed, Geoffrey discovered everything he believed about intimacy to be real and true.

Less than an hour before Dean gave himself over to Geoffrey for the first time, he had been opening his soul to Jeremy Stoker. Jeremy was the kind of man who seemed to invite confidence. His quiet, self-assured ways suggested understanding—and a willingness to accept. Someone willing simply to listen and nod can have a powerful influence. Without even realizing it, Dean had told this man about what had happened to him in high school; what it had been like to be straight and live in a pretend gay relationship.

Having shook his head in wonderment, Jeremy mused, “Two years—and you two ain’t never—”

Dean lowered his head and shook it. “He won’t ever make me—he promised.” Taking a moment to breathe in and out with short staccato, he added, “He’s a man of his word.”

“Does he—” Jeremy paused, wondering how to put this. “Does he get it somewhere else?”

“No—sometimes I wish he would, but—”

“But yer glad he don’t.”

Dean shuddered with shame at the realization.

“By all that’s gay and glorious,” Jeremy muttered, “that man must love you.” Worried he might have touched on a sore spot, he asked gently, “And you, Dean, how do you feel about him?”

“I love him,” Dean blurted out. No thought had gone into his answer—only expressed emotion. He took a moment to take in what he had just said. “I do love Geoffrey; he’s a wonderful man,” Dean pleaded. “It’s just that I’m not that way, and it’s hard having to crawl into bed with him every night, knowing he wants me to do things I can’t seem to bring myself to do.”

“I can imagine,” Jeremy replied, nodding again for Dean to go on.

“I just—I just don’t know what to do. I can’t keep faking it—I can’t keep on hurting him like this, but…” Dean shuddered at the thought. “I can never go back to that place.”

“What was it like?” Jeremy asked with sincere interest.

“It was…it was…” Even with all of Jeremy’s ease and willingness to listen, with every ounce of the man inviting confidence, Dean could not bring himself to speak of what had happened to him during his time at the Northeast Reeducation Camp.

“It’s all right, son,” Jeremy said soothingly. “I don’t need to know.” That Dean was straight was something Jeremy had figured out even before the two men had arrived at The Cattle Ranch. Changing the subject, but only just slightly, Jeremy commented, “Your partner must be a very wealthy man.”

This comment seemed so odd so soon after Dean had just exposed himself as het’ro that he couldn’t help but bluster, “I don’t understand?”

“Notice how you and he are the only two guests here.” He paused to allow the young man a moment of reflection. “This is peak season. This time of year, early fall being so lovely, all our cabins are usually full. We can service up to six couples—men and women—don’t matter. Business is business. Though, we do tend to attract more men, being men ourselves.” Having given Dean a knowing look, he added, “Don’t see any women here about, do you?”

Dean pondered the implication. “He bought out the whole place?”

Jeremy smiled. “Rented out.” Dean blushed. That was what he had meant to say. “He even asked if we had any women hands.”

Dean sat up straight. “Do you?” His eyes opened wide to reveal both hope and fear.

Jeremy nodded. “Some. Cowfolk come in both sexes you know.”

Dean flushed an even deeper red. “I…ah…”

Jeremy pointedly ignored Dean’s obvious embarrassment. “I told him as much and he asked whether we’d mind keepin’ ’em outta sight while the two of you were here. He paid extra for the favor, so I sent the ladies up to the north pastures to help my little sister, Sissy. She tends to our sheep up there.” After having eyed Dean briefly, Jeremy rested his eyes on the faux fire. “Now. The way me and Jake figures it, if a man don’t want no women around, he’s either reeducated or has a real hate on for women. Either way,
it likely adds up to his being straight.” He chuckled slightly. “There ain’t nothing straight ’bout your man…” He paused momentarily to wave his hands, “which leaves only you. Now yer twenty, why ain’t you at the wall? He’s a mite older, clearly been educated. Well, it doesn’t take too much to put two and two together. You was straight when you was younger, and as you jes’ told me now, you still is.”

“You…you…” Real fear flashed in Dean’s eyes. “You aren’t gonna expose me, are you? Have ’em send me back there?”

“No, son, I ain’t gonna do that to you. ’Sides,” he stated judiciously, “my understanding of the law says it is illegal to act on being straight and you ain’t been doin’ no straight acts far as I can tell.”

“No, sir,” Dean expostulated vehemently. “No, sir, I haven’t.”

“Ever done?” Although his curiosity was pushing the bounds of propriety, Jeremy simply couldn’t help but ask.

“N-no, sir—just the kissing stuff I told you about.”

“Well, that’s good, I suppose. But…” Here Jeremy paused, rubbed his chin, then sighed deeply. “Even if you did and I knowed ’bout it, I don’t reckon I’d turn you in.” Dean was stunned. Sitting before him, for the very first time in his entire life, was a man who wasn’t judging him for being who he was. Dean felt so overwhelmed and touched that he was unable to speak. Having sensed the need to change the topic, Jeremy offered up a song. “How ’bout a little good ol’ fashioned country fer ya?”