Chapter 6: July

Greg was preoccupied as June moved slowly toward July and freedom from Bonner with finishing his classes and dealing with the rapidly transforming shape of his personal life. He had let his dad and Debbie organize their return to St. George. Once he had established that the condo would be in the right location he had lost interest in it. A few friends who had lost touch over the winter months started to make contact with him. He welcomed it, but found he had separated wheat from shaft and had his perceptions of friendship shaken up. The mates he had planned to room with in the fantasy first apartment had gone their own way. Greg caught up in a world where Debbie and Seth were now family had paid little attention to the monumental significance that was high school graduation in Bonner and Aspen.

Greg's new Aspen friends had swung an invitation for him to the Aspen grad party. The concept was not a completely unfamiliar one to him. Graduation activities in St. George were mostly for the graduates. If he had been around, Greg would have crashed a number of house parties marking grad at McGregor. The idea of a Safe Grad was new to him. It was Alden's first Safe Grad too so the boys had shared the experience of filling out pseudo-legal permission forms with their parents and negotiating the number of over-priced drinks their parents were prepared to sign for. Greg had not counted drinks for years and his father had simply rolled his eyes when Greg ordered a case of Pilsner. The party itself had been a Spartan affair held in an empty Quonset. Held in mid June well before any of the participants could verify their actual graduation, it had given Greg a slightly false preview of the Bonner graduation scheduled for the end of the month. Greg had traveled out with Alden and stood at the back of the Aspen school gym and caught the end of the graduation ceremonies. It seemed very elaborate to the boy from the city. By the time he had arrived it had been in progress for an hour and a half. Half an hour later he had joined the mass of students outside waiting for the party to begin. If he had known they were going to stand around the school parking lot from ten to twelve while an RCMP officer and various parents watched keenly for bottles of beer he would have come later. Eventually the milling group of young people had been tagged with florescent wrist bands and piled into school busses. They traveled through the dark to the party site. It was a tightly contained drunk with an early climax and a long and fuzzy dénouement punctuated by a massive beer fight when the rising sun invigorated the survivors into a final frenzy of effort to use up the remaining cases of alcohol. In the seething mass of partiers it had been easy to forget the parents and he had lost himself in the music dancing with the girls he had met and trying to converse above the noise. In the flashing strobes Greg had seen couples making out. An occasional ninth grader drifted past overwhelmed by the riot of the long night's journey into the hung over dawn. They were the siblings of the Aspen grads granted some special dispensation to attend a high school affair by the organizing parent committee. They had served as a reminder of Seth and curbed any impulse he might have had to join the interlocked couples. More sober than most Greg had shared a beer with Alden in the relative quiet of the snow-fenced coral set up at the mouth of the Quonset. Pine scents mingled strangely with the odor of spilt beer and urine as they relieved their bladders in the dark narrow space behind the two portable toilets. They passed the beer back and forth silently as they stood. Alden had leaned over and kissed Greg in an unexpected moment. He had seemed embarrassed by his impulse and turned back to say something. Greg reassured him with another kiss. They finished the beer and zipped their flies up. It was as close as either one of them would come to acknowledging the bet or the possibility Seth had seen between them in the spring. During the car ride home after Alex's father had come to collect them Greg also reflected that it was as close to making out as he had gotten all night.

Greg picked up the last box and brought it out to the living room. The tired old trailer had seen too many people come and go. Greg doubted that he would miss the place much. He recognized it would take more than five months to give Bonner a chance; never-the-less, except for a few people he had come to like, he felt like he was taking the best part of the town with him: Seth. Greg glanced at his watch. It was 8:30 and Seth would be waiting for him.

Greg gave the pile one quick look before he left; he didn't plan to come back. He had taken what he could in the car and left the rest for his dad to bring south. He realized his dad would be back in the morning but he went back to take a last look at the big bed room.

It was just as he had found it five months before. He saw a flash of red under the desk and crossed the floor to pick it up. He leaned against the desk and played with the pick thoughtfully. It was an end. So many endings in a person's life; you think you reach a point and it seems that things should just not go on. You tell yourself it has been enough, right? Then of course you push on past that moment because unless you are Sydney Carton reassuring yourself that it is a far, far better thing you are doing just before you get your head chopped off, or Juliet checking out over Romeo's dead body with a dagger thrust, the truth is, it is not really the end of everything. Greg wondered whether Hal had a last moment to tell himself that his eighteen-year old story was over, probably not. Greg imagined if Hal had seen the truck coming he would have not believed what was about to happen. He imagined Hal reassuring himself that the truck would miss, or it would not be that bad and he would just have to explain the bashed in car to his father after listening to his mother's affirmation that driving in the city was a bad idea.

The story does not end for seventeen-year olds unless you are Romeo or one of those kids on the wall back at the school. Greg's dad and Zoë agreed he needed to stop clinging to the past. It had been time to move on. Greg knew he could do that now. Sydney Carton died for love and Romeo; well Romeo offed himself over a fourteen-year old. Greg could put an end to mourning and sleeping around for a fourteen-year old too. Who said English literature classes were irrelevant? Greg smiled and slipped the pick into his shorts. Greg glanced in the bathroom and then moved back to the living room.

Hal's guitar, well Seth's now, was propped against the boxes next to Seth's fishing pole and tackle box. Greg opened the guitar case to slip the pick between the strings on the neck. It was a simple guitar but Hal had enjoyed playing it. Greg pulled it out of the case and sat on a box. The strings only gave a whisper at his touch. The music was mostly in his head but it was a reassuring echo of Seth's song.

Playing with Greg had become important to Seth because it had quickly moved to a point where he felt he could contribute something Greg might value. Greg had little experience with reading notes. He had confessed this to Seth the first lesson; he mostly played by ear and used tabs. Since then they had been learning from each other. Despite his piano background, Seth found he favored tabs. After the first month there was an easy give and take between them. It was the music. It was being close. After the night of falling stars, it was something he did not want to lose. Seth let the time spin out in play with his need for reassurance surfacing every time they paused to talk or take a drink of soda. Seth was getting better at saying what he thought. Even so he tried a little tact. He paused and watched Greg play until Greg must have noticed his companion had stopped. Greg cocked his head quizzically.

"I'm going to miss this when we move." He tried to keep his voice light. He was disconcerted when Greg dropped his head and resumed playing his acoustic softly. It was a less mournful variation of the piece Greg had composed a few months earlier. Seth cleared his throat and tried a more direct approach. "Do you think we will still have time to play together after we have moved?" Greg added a slight percussion to his composition by tapping the guitar with a small finger. Seth listened patiently for a minute with a slight frown on his face. They were supposed to be passed this now. "What the hell Greg?" Greg stopped and gave him a small smile as his eyes slid up to meet Seth's face.

"Sorry, it's just you are being so subtle about it." Seth met his eyes and his blush was almost imperceptible. "You know I plan to go to university after next year; stay in residence if I can't find some people to share an apartment with." Seth did not bother to nod his head. Greg had shared his interest in journalism and the Journalism program in St. George had a solid reputation. Greg had explained that this was the main reason he had not pushed the idea of going to the more exciting Medicine Hat campus or even leaving the province of Assiniboia for Saskatchewan or Alberta. "So we have already agreed to share a room so they can have a study together in the condo." This was true and Seth was rather excited by the idea. "We won't be able to get away from each other."

"I guess, but I still wanted to hear it." Seth ran a hand along the neck of his father's old guitar. Their minds must have been following the same track because when Greg continued he echoed Seth's thoughts.

" ... but the truth is things will be different when we get there."

"Your friends"

"I suppose, yeh, but other things too Seth." Greg turned to prop his acoustic against the corner of the desk and reached for Hal's electric. He snapped on the amp as he continued. "I need a job. Something I can do after school and weekends. Zoë's mom said she would hire me at the restaurant as a busboy." Seth had been certain Zoë was Greg's girlfriend until he had laughed at the suggestion. "I tapped myself out here this winter and dad is not that big on allowances."

"At least you get an allowance." Seth had not thought about that. He realized he was going to have to push his mother for something. She was going to be a student instead of a teacher. It did not sound like there would be much left over for him. It was time to suck up to Mr. Cox, John, or whatever he ended up calling him. "I'll have to get a job too."

"You are only fourteen, maybe a paper route." That was not very promising. "That is what I had last summer. Well, yard work I guess." No shame if Greg had done it, Seth thought. A bit of a step down somehow though. Seth had earned his pocket money shoveling wheat and canola and doing light chores close to home. This year the Cannons had agreed he could drive truck in August. That was not going to happen now. "So I will be busy. Last year at school too." Greg watched Seth's face fall before continuing. "You are going to have lots of friends too."

Seth decided to get right to it. "We get along don't we?"

"Yes" Greg whispered back; eyes unwavering.

"Greg, is there an us?" Seth was too shy to say boyfriends. Greg had been so evasive all winter and spring Seth still had difficulty trusting their friendship. There had always been that last qualification; the big 'but' in Greg's responses to him. "Next month..."

"Yes it will have been a year." Greg still met Seth's eyes and it was Seth who needed to drop his eyes and study the vomit green shag. "Seth" Greg called him back to attention. "It is going to be easier with you there." Seth was grateful for the words. "I'm not completely sure what I mean, but I think I need you now. You're good for me. Do you understand what I mean?" Seth did. He remembered how he felt before Greg had come and they had met. Not empty; people always talked about feeling empty like there was nothing there but a hollow inside their hearts. It was not like that at all. Seth had seethed with feelings, mostly bad, and what he had needed was something fresh. Something that might help make some sense of his feelings and help him move on. Greg continued softly, "I thought I had lost Hal and Sue. The funny thing is Seth you have a way of constantly bringing them to my mind when we are doing things together."

"Even when we kiss?" Seth was still shy about that.

Greg laughed at that and shook his head. "Maybe not that, though now that you mention it Hal comes to my mind a little."

"Because it is gay?"

Greg did not answer directly. "I had this teacher. He came from Britain and he had this argument with us once. He said he was an immigrant to Canada and that made being a Canadian more special to him than it was to those of us who simply got born here. He said his citizenship was a conscious choice."

"So?"

"Straight people and gay people say they have no choice. They are hard-wired the way they are. Well maybe I was too in my own way, but Seth I choose to be with you right now." There it was Seth thought, always the slight hesitation to commit all the way.

"How will you feel when we are back with your old friends?"

"Seth, I don't know where we are going or how serious we should get. That's the God's honest truth." Seth gave him no reaction to that. "I want you with me though." Greg actually blushed and that surprised him.

"What do you mean?" It was all too new to Seth. Did Greg mean he wanted him as a boyfriend? How important was he to Greg anyway?
Greg ignored this and handed Seth Hal's guitar.

"Do you remember the piece you played me at the school?"

"You promised not to tell my mom about that, remember."

"I won't tell Debbie." Seth had told Greg about his mother's hopes that he would find his way back to his Royal Conservatory lessons. Greg settled his acoustic back between his legs in the classic Spanish style. "It was sweet. I tried picking it out on the guitar, but I don't remember it well enough." Greg played the central part he remembered and then stopped. "Do you think you remember it?" Seth had played it from memory of course. He tried strumming it out on the electric guitar but his cording was not good enough. He switched to picking out the notes and after each note Greg followed with an accompanying cord. They did not finish it, but Seth played enough to reassure them both that it might be done. Seth started thinking of it as their song. Greg switched to a piece that Seth felt confident about. It was the one he had tried with Matt and he likely played it too much because his mom was tired of it now. After a while he realized Greg was not playing. He was watching Seth work the frets as his fingers moved across the strings. Seth stopped and looked at him. A tear slipped down Greg's cheek, but his face seemed at peace to Seth. It had none of the reserve Seth had noted on his friend's face when Greg had something on his mind that he did not want to share with Seth. "Go on"

"No, are you okay Greg?"

"Don't sweat it. You can do that one now. It has come along Seth." Seth smiled with pleasure and when Greg set his guitar aside he offered the Epiphone back. Greg shook his head. "Time for new fingers; you keep it. It's yours."

"No man, this was Hal's."

"What do I need with two electrics? It's cool Seth. I told you it is time to move on."

"I don't know what to say."

"I told you Seth. It just seems to fit this way."

"Not Hal..." Seth was sensitive about pushing Greg too hard.

"No, just us doing this together, keeping it going between the two of us. Your dad, my brother, nobody completely gone, just mixing together somehow."

"Something new, right?"

"I guess" Greg leaned forward. They were touching of course. They always did "Always something to take in."

"That's just life"

"Yes" It came to Seth that the gift was Greg's answer to his question. Greg would not forget. Greg did want Seth to be part of his life in the years to come. Seth ran a hand over the guitar and then held it out for Greg. Greg hesitated then accepted it. Greg understood. Here at the trailer or out at the farm, it did not make much difference now. There was no your place or mine anymore.

Greg shifted the conversation away from talk of commitment. "You know I thought I would be out of here by now. I had plans you know. Last exam and I was on the road south."

"Thanks for staying." Greg had agreed to stay an extra week just to help Seth finish the barn roof, and keep him company while the Patterson's packed and their parents ran to St. George. It was pushing into July and Greg was visibly anxious now.

"Not a problem." Greg hated it, but there was Seth.

"I wish I had something to give you back. This could have been so hard Greg without you." Seth was sure his mother would have stayed close to Bonner and the home quarter. "Even if they had not got together I would still have gotten to know Matt and next year in Aspen would have been better." They was always their parents.

"Everyone in Aspen would have liked you." Greg thought Seth always seemed to shine out. Greg was unaware of his own transformation. That first February day at the school when he had glanced past his father's shoulder into the classroom Seth had been just another young boy in a crowded room. You see what you are looking for. "Everyone will like you in September." Even so, Seth might like to meet some people. He would have to think about that.

Greg was hungry and there was nothing much left in the trailer. "Hungry?"

"Sure; do we have enough money to go out?" John and Debbie had miscalculated the boy's appetites and the trailer was slim pickings now. What was left of the last quarter of beef was out at the Patterson farm. Greg did a quick mental calculation.

"We need to save it for the trip. We were going to do something in Saskatoon. Let's walk to the store." Standing brought them close together and when Greg placed a hand on Seth's shoulder to offer Seth the right of way it was only natural for Seth to meet his eyes and raise a hand to Greg's waist.

They closed the distance and joined lips. Seth felt Greg's hand slide down his arm and their fingers mingled a moment before Greg worked his hand into Seth's palm and twined their fingers together. It always felt so good to Seth, this holding hands, but it also signaled Greg's continued unwillingness to move on. Seth broke the kiss and met Greg's eyes. Greg's mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something, but there were no words. The words had been said about this and Greg still needed time. It was the briefest of interludes and Seth ended it with a last peck bestowing his forgiveness, or perhaps he was just reaffirming his patience.

Occasional touches as they moved down the hall reassured them both. Then they were out in the sun's harsh glare and they were just two teenagers walking down a dusty street in dying village full of faded dreams that never touched them. You would take them for friends because while they walked mostly apart, they had a tendency to pause along the way, the younger with his fists jammed deep into the pockets of his cargo shorts, smiling broadly at the more serious older youth. It seemed to make for a longer journey; however, the distance they needed to travel was really not that far. They had the time, and time held no consequence to the two companions, though the rumblings in their stomachs drove them onward.

Rub a dub dub three men in a tub, Greg reflected to himself. The boat was no tub. Greg wondered how long the cousins had argued before settling on the 18 foot Four Winns Tyler's dad had parked out at the lake. Greg had sat between Even and Tyler during the ride up listening to them fire comments back and forth between long silences and Greg's attempts to shift the conversation. It was, Greg realized, the first time he had actually seen any of the territory around Bonner. Stands of Aspen stood like islands amid the fields. When they were surrounded by the geometric ridges of fresh cultivation the landscape took on the appearance of some vast Japanese garden. Greg had found the landscape more interesting than the relative merits of a twelve-year old Four Winn with 175 horse power versus a 2005 Ebbtide. Now he was comfortably reclined in the bow of Tyler 's boat watching the effects of a light breeze playing across the surface of the cove the cousins had finally agreed to try. Their rivalry tired him. The sun felt good on his shoulders. When he had removed his shirt there had been a pregnant pause in the boy's conversation. Greg toyed idly with the pole not caring greatly if a fish took the bait. He had fished once with his father and Hal when he was ten. His father had lost more lures than he had caught fish and when they had landed a small Jack, Greg had been repulsed by its rough and slimy surface. He had watched it gasp its life out in the bottom of the boat and then felt sickened by the inexpert cleaning his enthusiastic father had done before charring the mangled filets in hot grease. It had been the only fish they had caught that day much to Greg's relief.

"So what's Seth up to today anyway?"

Greg took a sip from the bottle before replying. "He's cultivating with Alden and Hugh." Debbie Patterson had unkindly referred to this as recreational tillage : farmers getting out in their air conditioned cabs and running harrows through the soil as they listened to KD Lang. Just an excuse to get away from their wives and play with a huge toy, she had added when she had spoken briefly with Greg on the phone from St. George. Seth had been keen to go farm and besides, he was still furious with Tyler and his posse after the Bonner Grad party out at the Klein's farm. A day out on the water fishing and tubing with Tyler, or Evan for that matter was just not on for him. He had given Greg his fishing pole and tackle box with a speculative look that told Greg he was not entirely trusted with the cousins by himself. "We leave in two days and this will be his last chance to run heavy equipment for a while. He is really pumped about it."

"Yeh, I remember that. Dad let me run the Deer when I was fourteen."

"I remember that. You were all over the place with that thing."

"Better than you were. Uncle Phil made you sit in his lap."

"Hey, that Case is a big machine."

"Right"

"Jesus..." Greg murmured to himself and took another pull on his bottle. The cousins seemed to have a never ending conversation. The boat began to rock as Tyler shifted to the bow and sat across from Greg. Tyler had also removed his shirt and Greg noted that he was softer than Evan. Not fat at all, but there was the beginning of a slight role around his waist. All the drinking catching up to him perhaps, something to worry about when he was nineteen and he joined the afternoon club at Bonner's hotel for a few brews before he headed home. Greg had seen enough of the type at the parties ... that slab of meat and fat at the Klein's Grad Party for instance. Seth was still a strip of adolescent rawhide. Kind'a like a 5'7" erection ... hot beating meat wrapped in silky skin demanding to be clasped firmly and squeezed ... a cute head with a sensitive giving mouth Greg liked to nibble on and tease with his tongue. Greg shook his head slightly. The sun must have been getting to him. He reached down to where he had dropped his hat and pulled it down over his face. Get a grip guy. Greg shifted his bottle so that it covered his crotch better and toyed with Seth's pole.

"You don't believe me?" Tyler must have noticed the head shake and thought Greg was still listening to him. Greg thought it must be time for another cast and began reeling in the lure. He left the cold bottle squeezed between his legs. He let the clatter of the reel fill the silence while he puzzled out the missing parts of the conversation. "I mean it Greg, I'm sorry that happened and what Elias said was way out of line." That got Greg up to speed and explained the sudden fishing trip with the cousins.

"Don't sweat it Tyler. Shit happens at parties." He should have walked away. What did he really care about what they thought? "I'm just glad it didn't get worse." The evening had ended well anyway. Greg checked the tear-drop lure glistening on the tip of Seth's quivering rod and with a now practiced flex of his wrist watched the white string arch out across the undulating surface of the water.

"We're glad your still here." Evan commented from the back of the boat.

"Yes, it's been great having you around. It's gonna be different next year." Greg lost interest in the fishing pole and propped it under a knee where the big one would not drag it into the water if it ever hit the lure. Greg avoided looking at Tyler and studied the shoreline. "Strange to be in a new school"

"It won't be that different. You've been in other schools Greg. I'm right aren't I? Shit we know these people, don't we Evan? We go to the same hockey games and ball games. Anyway, it's just for a year." Tyler added.

"It's going to be harder Tyler."

"Ah, I give it a week."

"A week?"

"Okay, maybe a month, I'll give you that." It was like they had forgotten Greg for a moment. "I bet four weeks tops."

"Oh, now it's a bet is it?"

"Fuck me guys, are your lives so boring you have to bet on everything?" Greg was tired of it all. They were good guys in their way but they were completely ridiculous. "I just don't get you two. You have boats and bikes, trucks, hockey, girlfriends," Greg thought of Seth proudly driving a tractor around some field "you get to play with monster machines..."

" Tyler gets off on it" Evan's voice had a hint of reproach.

"And you don't?" Tyler replied defensively.

"Not like you do"

Greg examined the contents at the bottom of his bottle and absently revealed his own thoughts, "Does it bother you Evan that Tyler wants more? Is it better to just use them for a moment and walk away?" His remark brought the cousins back to the reality of his presence and they stared at him for a while in silence. Tyler moved away from him and back to the other end of the boat. The silence continued between the three of them and before long Greg heard the sounds of the cousins casting their lures and reeling the lines back in. Greg pulled his line in and dropped the butt of the rod onto the deck of the boat before closing his eyes and letting the sun warm his body and the slight breeze flutter across his exposed skin. Greg had to admit it was nice out on the water. Evan and Tyler had found an isolated spot and Greg wished he was alone with Seth.

"Fuck me senseless Evan, the little shit told him all about it."

"You think?"

"Damn I could kick the shit out of him."

"You'll have to get past me first." Greg sat up and swung his legs down as he took in the looks of consternation on Evan and Tyler 's faces. He did not think Tyler meant it, but it annoyed him to hear the comment anyway. The cousins, Evan who looked so like his friend but was so different, and Tyler who was more like Greg than Greg cared to admit. "You had him caught in the middle and he did not like it."

"You know he did it don't you? He blew Evan." Greg gave Tyler a measured look.

"Yes, I did know, but it is fucking sad of you to say so." His voice was soft and the reproach seemed lost on Tyler and Evan. Zoë's sluttish friend he might be, had been he hoped, but in this he had been good. They had never quite been trophies to hang on a wall and boast about. School was too harsh a place to carry that around.

Greg did not want to be angry with Tyler or Evan. They were okay. He figured they would go on until they were burned by one of their targets or someone outed them. Evan might be the man and switch to girls, piling one on top of another. He was sad about Tyler though. He did not think Tyler understood himself very well.

"Nothing wrong with a blow job Greg; I bet you like them too."

Greg glanced at Evan and smiled slightly. He was not the person to analyze these two. "No comment on that one." Greg wanted to shift the conversation before the pair imagined he might be interested in settling their original bet. There had been times throughout the spring when he had imagined this conversation. He might have told them it seemed to him they were users unmindful of the feelings of their incidental partners. At least Tyler felt some sort of attraction, but Evan seemed to have contempt for the boys who let their need to belong and their curiosity overwhelm them. Greg might have straightened them out. He was not the person to judge these two.

Greg knew he was Saint Paul on the road to Damascus and Seth had struck him to the ground where he lay blindly groping for the right path. He was a player giving advice to players and he could not imagine they would believe him. He was in fact not convinced he was not still the Greg who loved the parties and the harmless coupling with familiar and unfamiliar partners. Part of him feared the drive south and wanted to stay in the shabby trailer room playing guitar or sitting in a canopied tree house exchanging kisses and caresses with an innocent boy. He was not the person to reform these two.

So instead Greg told them he was bored with fishing and they had promised to take him tubing too. Tyler and Evan accepted the change in conversation gratefully. Each in his way dreaded Greg's reaction. Tyler because he did not want the straight boy thinking he was really gay and Evan was conscious that Greg thought little of seventeen-year-olds who took an interest in younger teenagers. Both wanted to put Greg's unwelcome intrusion into their family game from their minds so by the time the three boys had packed the fishing gear away it was almost possible to pretend they had never talked at all. Before long they were engrossed in speed and a black tube skipping violently as it shifted across the sparkling waves with each twist of the powerful boat. Not too hard to be three teenagers in the best summer; the one last real summer of freedom before graduation ended childhood.