Date: Fri, 25 Jul 2014 14:16:19 -0400 (EDT) From: MGTBILL@aol.com Subject: DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO Chapter 88 DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO Chapter 88 by Donny Mumford On our way to work Tuesday morning I'm trying to satisfy Chubby's curiosity regarding the manner in which Robby proposed to me. I tell him, "It was pretty straight forward, Chubby. Robby had a ring, he held my hand, and asked me to marry him. It was serious stuff and I took it that way. I can see your point of view though, it could seem silly or cornball-ish, but I felt it was romantic." Chubby goes, "Cornball-ish?" I mutter, "It's a word, or if not it should be." He grins at me, "Oh, okay," he says. He knows I love Robby, but even so a three year engagement seems odd to him and I agree that it is, especially because Robby and me still have some active buddy sex on the side going on. However, Robby and me aren't like everybody else, we do things our way. We're not afraid to be ourselves, but that doesn't mean we go around with a bullhorn announcing every move we make either. In due time we'll tell the appropriate people that we're engaged. For now our engagement is a secret with Chubby being the only person who knows about it. Then I remember today is Robby's birthday. Damn, I've got to get him a birthday card and a gift. Huh, he proposed to me on the very last night of his teen years. I wonder it that was done intentionally or if it's just a coincidence? Chubby says, "If you're happy I'm happy, bro... you know that. I gotta think if it were me though, I probably wouldn't be sharing this news with anybody else because it's, um, unusual on a number of counts." I ask, "What exactly are you referring to?" He's like, "We'll I mean, the, um, wedding is at least three years away and a shit load of unimaginable stuff can happen in three years." I go, "I'm not worried about what might happen. I'm confident enough about our decision that I shared this news with you, didn't I? And even though I knew you'd think it's silly I still told you because I believe in Robby and me. Anyway, silly or not it's still a significant development in my life. It gives Robby and me a stronger sense of commitment. Okay, it might seem to be a little contradictory claiming we now have a stronger commitment to each other while at the same time we intend having an open type engagement arrangement." Chubby says, "That right there is another level that makes your arrangement waaaay past unusual." I'm like, "Oh, don't worry, Robby and me can handle that without a problem." He goes, "Okay, I'm sure you think you can although a so-called open engagement is certainly the first arrangement of it's kind in, I don't know, like ever." I frown at him, "Don't make fun of me, Chubby, not you of all people. Robby and me are having an open period in our engagement because we just turned twenty years old and still have some wild oats to sow." Chubby nods his head, shrugging as if he sees my point. I know he thinks Robby and me are nuts, but as long as I'm happy and not in any kind of real danger Chubby will support my decision. He mutters, "Sow away, bro." Everything significant in my life I share with Chubby. "Significant' being a very subjective word of course. For instance, my New York trip is significant at this time in my life, but when I was twelve years old jerking off successfully for the first time that was also a significant event in it's timeframe. I couldn't wait to tell Chubby about either one of those significant events, and in both cases we discussed the situation in great detail, just as we did with this marriage proposal situation earlier this morning. Another example of a significant event happened at age fourteen when I got a new bicycle for my birthday. That was a luxury item for me back then. One school day when Chubby was sick and stayed home, I rode my bike to school. I wasn't suppose to do that because bikes were routinely stolen from there. I did it anyway and then was careless about how I locked it to the bike rack and it was stolen. That was a major, earth shattering significant event at the time because my mom saved her tips from the restaurant to buy me that bike and I'd promised not ride it to school. So I was extremely upset and ashamed of myself, of course, and I went directly to Chubby. He listened and then told me not to fret, we'd get the bike back before my mom knew it was gone. It took us three days to discover the culprit, three days of casual conversation with kids at school, casual interrogation actually. Someone finally mentioned that Dick Regan had a new bike. He wasn't riding his new bike to school so we went to his neighborhood and waited at the end of his street. About two hours later my bike came coasting down the sidewalk with Dick Regan riding it. We beat the living shit out of Dick knowing he couldn't squeal on us because he'd have to admit he stole my bike. There are occasionally a rare significant event I don't confide in Chubby until quite some time after the fact, like me being gay. There wasn't any action necessary in that case so I confided with Chubby when I felt the time was right. All important events get shared between us sooner or later though, and what needs to be done about what ever it is gets done and we move on. The fact is there aren't all that many situations qualifying as significant events, but when one pops up I confide with Chubby and he does the same with me. Chubby and I know each other so well because we lived most of our waking hours together from birth until we got summer jobs before our senior year. Previous to that we shared all our thoughts. He says he knows me better than I know myself in some ways. He understands me and supports my outlook on life for the most part. We're tight, very tight. As far as this significant event of getting engaged goes, there's nothing that needs to be done about it except keep it a secret until the appropriate time to share that information with our families. Chubby drives our Jeep onto the parking lot at work as I get a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach thinking about seeing Robby for the first time as fiancés. It's of course exciting, plus I've also got a squirmy feeling in my underwear at how awesomely sexy Robby was last night, especially the unexpected sex we had on the balcony. Robby got so aroused he had to pull down my shorts and fuck me right then and there. I take it as a compliment that he was so horny for me he couldn't help himself, and also I liked that he handled his urges confidently. He apologized afterward, which wasn't necessary, but Robby's basically a sweet guy when it's all said and done. Bottom line is I've got not a single doubt in my mind that he loves me with a passion. That's a damn nice feeling, being loved like that. It makes me feel good about myself. Anyway, it's time to work our way through Tuesday so we get out of the Jeep and I wander over to put our lunch in the communal cooler. Seth usually greets me, but I haven't seen him yet this morning. He's almost always here before me, then I spot Robby near the supervisor's meeting room talking to his boss, Chuck Tanner. Robby glances up and sees me staring at him. I can tell Robby's trying to hold back his smile, but finally he gives me a little smile and a slight wave of his hand. Hmmm, he seems uptight about something. Chuck's looking behind Robby yelling at someone, so maybe that's why Robby's uptight. He and Chuck go inside the building with Chuck's big hairy bare arm across Robby's shoulders, like Robby's a little kid. I do not like that guy and I never have. I hope he's transferred to another division in the company before next summer, or better yet he quits the company altogether. Robby's told me Chuck's always eager and ready to point out any little mistake any of us guys on Robby's crew make. Probably he's still pissed at Robby for firing his son even though at the time he said it was the correct thing to do. Chuck needs to rethink his vendetta against Robby. He'd do good to remember Robby's the beloved son of the guy who fucking owns this business. He also needs to keep his ugly hairy ass arm off of my fiancé! Damn that pissed me off. Still fuming I walk towards the locker room, then grin realizing I just referred to Robby as my fiancé. That sounds so fucking cool. I'm smelling the back of my wrist and grinning as I walk into the locker room. After exchanging fist bumps, wise-ass comments, and 'whassup?' with the guys, I change into work clothes feeling special and happy. Chubby and Lee are goofing around as usual, but my buddy Seth still hasn't shown up which is very unlike him. I kinda worry about him because he lives in a bad section of town. Drifting outside alone, I'm just not feeling the messing around with the guys in the locker room today. I'm into savoring last night and being in my own little world for awhile. Smoking a cigarette while leaning against the big truck, I'm going over in my head everything Robby said and did last night. Heh heh, just thinking about last night is getting me kinda horny for him all over again. Unfortunately, I know he's going to Worcester with his dad tonight so hooking up with him tonight isn't possible, although I'd sure like to. The Worcester trip has something to do with the new contract the Dickers company just negotiated for that big condo development. The one with two hundred condo units being built where the old drive-in movie used to be. Hard to imagine that area being turned into upscale condos, but I don't doubt Robby's company will be successful, and maybe that's where Robby and I will live when we're married. I never thought about getting married before last night, but I guess if you want children being married helps, although I know it's not necessary. I'm not actually sure why getting married is necessary, but I like the idea just the same. That's mostly because of the way Robby described himself as the head of our household. I like the sound of that. Yeah, but what the fuck am I going do all day when he's at work? How much time could it take to feed a baby, then what do I do the rest of the day? Hey, you know what I'm thinking... yeah, I'll get the head of the household to buy me a pool table. I've always wanted to be really good at pool. Being good at pool is a cool thing, especially because I'll be legal drinking age by then and how cool is it to play pool in a bar kicking ass. I'll put the baby, Dylan junior, to bed and then practice shooting pool for hours with music rockin' in the back ground. No, I better wear head phones so the music doesn't wake baby Dylan. With that much time to practice there's no telling how good I'll be after a year or so. Damn, that's a good idea, but still I'd like to be doing something useful too. Maybe I'll get one of those jobs you can do from home. Something I could do with the baby in one of those baby backpacks that you wear in front. I see those things at the mall and the man's usually wearing it so I won't feel like a total geek wearing one myself. Hmmm, good thing our marriage is years away because as of this minute that picture isn't doing it for me. I prefer concentrating on the part where Robby's the head of our household. That's the most intriguing part. I wonder if he could be head of the household minus the baby? There's plenty of time to figure out little details like that. The horn sounds and our work day officially begins. That damn horn startled me out of my musings and now I notice the general hubbub of everyone piling out of the locker room to join their work crew, so I saunter over and join my guys. Still no Seth. Robby comes over to the group and we make eye contact, but he still looks uptight. What the hell happened, I wonder? Robby tells us that Seth called in earlier with car problems. That poor guy has a hard life. Robby's going to drive over with one of the mechanics to see if they can get Seth's car started. That's the kind of boss Robby is, he cares about his crew. He says, "Lee's in charge, guys. Seth and I will meet you on the job as soon as we can." It seems strange not to have Seth by my side just like it seemed strange when Ryan moved and he wasn't by my side. It's awesome having your special work partner who you do everything with, except I get to relying on him and when he's not here I feel a little lost. At the beginning of the summer Ryan and I were together all day on the job. If it wasn't for Ryan, Chubby and I would probably have hooked up to do everything together. Yeah, except Chubby's a social animal and mixes it up with everybody. I like to have a little clique of two, and in that regard I've been real lucky having first Ryan and then Seth in my clique. Speaking of Ryan, he's still a mystery to me. I don't know what changed his mind where he and I are concerned, but hopefully the mystery will be solved when we're back at college. I'm going to miss Seth, I know that already. When we've loaded the truck, Chubby rides up front with Lee who's the truck driver when Robby isn't here. Jerry and I sit in our spots on opposite sides of the truck, but not because we don't like each other or anything like that. It's because, like in school, you pick a seat and automatically that's your seat all year. Not because it has to be, but because we're creatures of habit I suppose. Today we're going to be working small, quick fifteen to twenty minute properties, which means lots of unloading and loading equipment at each site. The four of us handle it okay, only taking five minutes or so longer for each job than a full crew takes, but we have to hustle to accomplish that. Usually these small lawns make for a more relaxed day at work... not so much today though. Seth and Robby finally show up an hour after our morning coffee break when we're already on the fifth job of the morning. I make eye contact with Robby who nods his head slightly indicating, I think, that he wants me to come over to him. I wander over to the truck carrying half a bag of grass clippings passing Seth on the way. We exchange fist bumps and smiles, but he hurries off with a leaf blower eager to make up for the time he's missed. Robby gestures with his thumb that we should slide around to the other side of the truck. When we're out of view we stand here looking at each other and it's kind of weird, almost like we're not sure what to do or say. I feel it's Robby who should say something first because he called me over. Robby wets his lips and I smell the back of my wrist as we awkwardly glance around avoiding eye contact. He doesn't appear ready to say anything, so I mumble, "Hi, Robby, wassup?" and he's like, "How ya doing today?" Why the fuck we're acting shy with each other I haven't a clue. Robby reaches over and rubs a piece of cut grass off my cap, asking, "Everything good?" I nod my head as Robby sucks on his lips, nodding his head. I don't know why he's nodding so I look behind me to see if he's nodding to someone there. Nobody's there, so I say, "Um, I wish we could do last night all over again, Robby, exactly like we did it last night. I loved our date." He smiles now and seems to relax, "Really, Dylan? I'm so glad. I thought, I don't know, maybe you'd change your mind about something. I mean, everything went better than I ever hoped on our date and I was worried it went too well and this morning you'd second guess some stuff." I go, "I feel even better about everything today then I did last night." Robby's eyes shine and he can't stop grinning, then he says, "I love you so much and I'm thrilled beyond belief that you love my dream for us." I look down, "Oh, yeah, about that, um, I really do love it, but, um, I told my brother about it." He laughs and gives me a quick hug, saying, "I was wondering if I screwed up emailing Dodger the news and telling him to save a Saturday three years from now to be my best man. I had to tell somebody the news." Whew, I'm glad to hear that. Robby kicks up a little grass, grinning at me, then asks, "Will you go out with me Wednesday night?" I say, "Of course I will, mister head of the household." He laughs, "You're awesome," and he leans in and kisses my lips real fast. I'm surprised he'd do that out in the open like this. He says, "Well, um, I gotta go now. See ya," I go, "See ya, boss." He looks at me and grins, gets in the pickup and drives off. Huh, that's funny the way we both told our brothers. Robby's right, news like this has to be shared with your best friend. It makes it more official, but I wonder why we were a little awkward with each other just now. These small lawns don't require Robby's help, so he leaves Lee in charge and goes to help other supervisors covering for the crew that's on their week's vacation, just like other supervisors covered for us when I was in Wildwood. It was funny Robby and me were shy like that, but I guess Robby was expecting me to back out of some part of his dream after I had time to think about it. Other than me not having anything to do all day, I love his dream. Damn, I should have mentioned my pool table idea. Oh well, we got plenty of time to discuss that, so I unload the half bag of grass clipping that I'd carried over with me and then get back to work. When this property's done Seth helps us load up and then it's him and me in our usual spots on the truck bed, but there's no serious messing around between us because there are no big mowers to block Jerry's view. Jerry closes his eyes and maybe nods off in between job sites, but he could open his eyes any second. Because of that Seth and me just do mild touching and general goofing around. He tells me Rob's an awesome boss to come out and get his car started. Seth yells in my ear, "They couldn't get it started. Jumper cables didn't work so Robby went back to the shop for a battery while the mechanic took out my old battery. Robby brought back a replacement battery, it's used but it's in ten times better shape then my old battery." Yeah, that my boyfriend. I have this weirdly strong urge to tell Seth about Robby proposing to me last night. I mean it's the strongest goddamn urge you can imagine. I almost tell him too, but just barely am able to stop myself. What the hell's that all about I wonder. I can't be blabbing the news all over. It's our secret and that makes it even more special. Robby, me, and our brothers know something no one else on earth knows. Ha! The rest of the day goes by quickly and I feel like I'm walking on air most of the time. Robby and I now have direction in our lives. We'll still go on like we've been doing, but with a long term goal in our heads from now on. It feels good. On the ride home Chubby asks me if I want to go to a Paw Sox game with him tonight. He says, "I know it's a long shot that you won't have something lined up for tonight in your busy social life, but I'm taking a chance and asking you anyway." I say, "I'd love to see the Paw Sox with you, Chubby." In my current frame of mind I don't even feel the need for a side sex with Sonny or anyone else. He's basically my only side sex possibility now that Seth is working nights all week, and I don't have a strong sense Devon's going to call. He said he wanted to do it again, but I'll be surprised if he actually follows through. And I'm not asking him, he'll need to call me. But like I said, I don't even want to have side sex tonight, and I'm not kidding or fooling myself about that. I'm perfectly content looking forward to Robby's and my date Wednesday after work. Chubby says, "You'll come to the game? That's awesome, bro. We just need to shower, then we'll eat at the ballpark." Sounds good to me, so after a shower and a change of clothes I wear my posse cap and grab my baseball glove. I'm bringing my glove on the outside chance a foul ball comes my way. It'll be fun doing something with Chubby. In the Jeep with Chubby driving, I ask, "Can I see the tickets, Chubby, I wanna see if we're sitting in a good spot for foul balls." He goes, "I don't have the tickets. Marty has them. He picked them up from MJ's father before he left for a sales appointment, but the tickets are always the same ones. They're box seats three rows back, down from first base a little towards right field. You'll have some chances for foul balls for sure." I'm thinking, Marty? Who the fuck's that? Chubby says, "Ted's going too. The other guy who usually goes, Tazer, can't make it tonight so I asked my fabulous brother." I go, "Tazer?" and Chubby says, "His last name is Zanzinger and somewhere along the way he got the nickname Tazer. His real first name is Walter and nobody wants to be known as a Walter, ya know." Huh, I should have known they'd be other guys going. Well, I'll finally get to see who these stiffs are that Chubby hangs out with. I'm pretty sure they're boyfriends of MJ's girlfriends. During the ride to pick up the other guys Chubby doesn't mention Robby's proposal because we have an unwritten code that states when something significant gets discussed and handled, then it isn't discuss further unless the guy with the significant event brings it up. In this case that's me and I'm not bringing it up because what more is there to say about it? Chubby thinks it's silly, and it's three years off, so that's about it. At best it's a topic for the distant future, and what's more 'future' then three years from now? The drive to this guy Marty's house takes fifteen minutes and when we get there we find him and Ted sharing a joint on the front step of an average middle class house that needs painting. Chubby calls over in a friendly voice, "Lets go, you pot heads," and both guys smile as the big nose kid flips Chubby the bird. Huh! Nothing wrong with being pot heads I guess, except I don't care for the smell. Big nose comes up to Chubby with a grin on his face, and he's got a cute grin actually. He bumps fist with Chubby, then rubs Chubby's head, saying, "Jeff, you don't know what you're missing, dude. Pot rocks!" Chubby goes, "Yeah, yeah, meet my brother, Dylan," and both guys point their index finger at me with the other guy, the one with a sort of sexy scraggly couple days growth of beard, says, "Nice to meet ya, Dylan. Your brother's a hot shit, dude." Chubby says, "Get in guys, my bro and I are hungry and need some food before the game." They get in with Chubby pointing at big nose, saying to me, "That's Ted," and he points to the kid with the skimpy beard, and says, "That's Marty." We nod at each other. During the ride to Rhode Island they talk about the recent party they were all at, probably when I was in New York. Ted and Marty are not hot shit's like Marty said Chubby was. There's something not quite right about them and I don't mean they're acting like assholes or anything like that. It's hard to verbalize, but they somehow just don't appeal to me. I don't necessarily mean their looks, it's more their personalities. They seem a little formal, or maybe it's that they're much more mature acting than their ages. Chubby told me both guys are a year older then us, but they act ten years older. They chuckle at Chubby's off the wall observations and his humorist way of saying things. They chuckle, then mutter something like, "Ha ha, that's off the chain, Jeff." So they appreciate humor and clever remarks from Chubby, but they offer nothing funny or particularly interesting themselves. I'm sure they could say the same about me in that regard, but I'm at a distinct disadvantage because I'm the stranger here. They're not strangers to each other so they should be comfortably being themselves, which is unfortunately a tad boring if you ask me. The way they're acting now is what one probably gets from Marty and Ted all the time. They know sports though and talk about that knowledgeably, but without any passion. I like to hear some cursing and subjective criticism about our Boston professional sports teams, and I don't know, maybe some inflection in their voice when they're talking sports, like they care. It's probably just me, but like I said I think they're boring. On the other hand, Marty has a sexy beard going for him and it's the same color as his hair, which is my favorite color for guy's hair... a very light shade of brown. Good hair with a decent haircut if a little nondescript. Ted, except for his big nose, is actually kind of cute. They're both close to six feet tall with okay bodies. Neither of them are fat or slim, they're in between. They both have on shorts and short sleeve shirts with sneakers on their feet, so nothing unusual there. Ted has very hairy legs including hairy thighs, but his short sleeve shirt has the top three buttons unbuttoned and I can see he has a hairless chest. Excessively hairy legs and a hairless chest is a very unusual combination. I can say that with confidence considering all the guy-watching I've done over the past three years or so. In short, I can see where they'd appeal, appearance-wise, to girls, but they're a couple of duds personality-wise. At least to me, but that doesn't mean they are to others. I remember the best endorsement Chubby could come up with for MJ's crowd was, 'They're okay.' That might be what I'd feel too if I got to know them better... maybe. It's totally unimportant to me one way or the other anyway. This is Chubby's twelfth Paw Sox game this summer and he's explaining to me the routine they've found that works best at Paw Sox games, like where to park so it'll be a quick exit after the game. Also they have a favorite gate to enter the stadium, and they've scoped out the best food courts, and so forth. Inside the stadium, first thing we do is get Italian grilled sausages with fried onion and green pepper, and it might the best one I've ever eaten. Everyone pays individually for the food so that's cool. Following their regular routine, next we go to a particular stand to get long hot dogs that have a casing that snaps when you bite into it. Awesome hot dog and the best rolls for both the sausage and the hot dog I can remember eating, so the food's an A+ so far. Next stop is another stand where we get french fries right out of the deep fat fryer with lots of salt. Chubby takes Ted's french fry container and his own, then tells me to carry Marty's for him. I do that wondering why, until Ted and Marty's best feature becomes obvious. They're twenty one years old. The sign at the beer counter reads, 'Everyone must show ID! Two beer limit per customer'. Well, two beers, times two, happens to be the correct number of beers we need. Those guys carry two beers each while Chubby and me carry these awesome french fries and we make our way to our awesome seats. What makes the seats even more awesome is the fact Marty goes in the row first, Ted's second, followed by Chubby and I get to sit on the end seat of the row. Nothing is better than end seats, especially when my awesome brother's on my left next to me. No unattractive individual will be rubbing forearms with me or taking up any of my space. We exchange french fries for beers, put the cups of beer in the cup holder and things are looking good. A nice night for baseball too. Chubby passes some money to Ted and tells me to give Marty ten bucks. That'll cover the first three beers. Hmm, things are definitely looking up with beers in the three dollar range! Then it gets better. Two hot looking boys with buzz cuts sit in front of Chubby and me. I'm listening to their conversation and discover they're eighteen years old going into their senior year of high school, and they're both on the varsity baseball team. One kid has red hair and freckles, but not too many freckles, and the other kid has brown hair like Chubby's. The brown hair kid is yummy with a baby face except for the beginning of whiskers on his chin and upper lip. He turns to talk to his bud, who's name is Frankie, so I get a good look at him. Cute name, Frankie, and the redheaded kid's name is apparently 'Apple'. Unfortunately I also hear them talking about their girlfriends, but that's not a big problem because I'm content thinking about my date with Robby tomorrow night. If my alley-catting wasn't on the shelf at the moment it might be a different story of course. I'd be striking up a conversation just in case one of these hottie's is bi. They're hot, no doubt about that, hot bodies too. I hear some snickering from Chubby so I guess I'm being too obvious ogling these two kids. I look at Chubby, and ask, "What?" with a shrug. He smirks and rubs his nose, saying, "Oh, nothing, nothing at all, bro, enjoy yourself." I smirk back at him, and say, "I will, thank you. This is awesome, Chubby." He squeezes my hand, saying, "I love that you're here with me." The game begins and it's a cool experience being this close to the field. We're close enough to hear the players talking to each other. I don't put my glove on until I'm finished eating my french fries and these just might be the best french fries I've ever had. The food in this place rocks! Chubby and I talk together and he gets me laughing, pointing out some of the oddballs you can always find in a large crowd. Apparently some people don't have mirrors in their homes 'cause you have to assume they wouldn't go out looking like they do if they could check themselves out in a mirror first. Ted and Marty make beer runs every two innings. That's not nearly enough beers to get us drunk, but it does put us in amicable frames of minds. So far there have been two close calls with foul balls whizzing over our heads, but they were just out of my reach. The second foul ball tipped the top of my glove when I jumped for it. The two cute high school baseball players have their baseball gloves too. We have to wait until the bottom of the third inning before we see the next foul ball coming in our direction. Me and the two kids in front of me are reaching for the ball that's just out of reach to our right and a guy catches it in his bare hands, the show off. But the good thing is the red head kid called, 'Apple', leans back and we collided when reaching for the ball. He grins at me, saying, "Sorry, dude. That fucker was just past your glove." I take the opportunity to rub his red hair, asking, "Do you play ball? That's a nice glove ya got there," and we get into a little conversation with Frankie chirping in with, "Apple was on the second team all-state as a center fielder." Apple says, "Frankie's my PR man," and they bump fists. Friendly little buggers. We commiserate about various plays in this game and then in the seventh inning Frankie finally snares a ball on a rebound off some poor bastards bare hands in the front row. High fives all around giving me the opportunity to give him a squeeze on the back of his neck congratulating him, then I run my fingers through his buzz cut hair, telling him, "Cool haircut, Frankie." You know, friendly like. Guys that play team sports like baseball are use to physical contact from teammates. Things like head rubs, pats on the back or ass, hugs and that sort of thing is appropriate whenever something goes good individually or as a team. I've noticed this for years and take advantage of this fact by semi mauling these two hottie's, who both have the most awesome grins with those super white teeth almost all young guys seem to have. Most of the guys I know have good teeth which, by the way, is an important part of a cute grin. Apple and Frankie are turning around and commiserating with me about good and bad plays in the field now, and my hand is on one or the other of them quite a bit without them even noticing. To them it's normal behavior. Chubby appears bemused watching my friendly gestures to these two kids. He's grinning and chuckling watching us and the ball game at the same time. By the seventh inning the Paw Sox are up six to one so everyone in the stands around us is happy. The beer runners, Ted and Marty, are ready to get our fourth beer. Chubby gives Ted a twenty dollar bill, saying, "My treat for the last round." The guys mutter, "Thanks, dude, you the man," and then head up the aisle to the beer stand. I try to force a ten dollar bill on Chubby, but he won't take it. He squeezes my shoulder saying, "My treat, bro." I give up because that's just Chubby being Chubby. He's always ready to treat someone whether it's one of his friends or girlfriends. Being generous is an admiral trait except it's also why he runs out of money all the time. I'm far from cheap, but I don't throw money around because I don't have a lot of it to throw around. We're going to owe the bank about ninety thousand dollars by the time we graduate and that's on my mind from time to time. I try not to dwell on it too much, but it's a fact of life. Frankie buys a bag of very salty popcorn and shares it with Apple, Chubby, and me. That's cool and it also means he's turning around a lot so I get to see his full face quite a bit and I've got a tiny crush on him by the time the game's over. Paw Sox run away with the game by a score of ten to two. On the way up the aisle leaving, I'm squeezing the back of Apple's neck, asking, "You guys see all the games in those seats?" Frankie says, "Nah, those seats are coach Medford's season tickets. All the guys on the team get to see at least one game in those seats." Hmmm, that's too bad. I'd see another game if these two were going to be sitting in front of me. Well, some guys from the team will be in the seats apparently, but it would be really rare for there to be two others as cute as these two. Lucky for me this was their night. We bump fist with a quick hug telling each other, "Nice meeting you, dude," and then they go off to the right as we go to the left. Ted asks me, "Did you know those guys?" I shrug, "Not really," and he says, "Dude, you were almost sitting in their lap." I have a passing thought to suggest that Ted try fucking himself, but instead I just shrug again. I'm unlikely to see Ted and Marty again in my lifetime so what do I care what either of them thinks. The beers have loosened Ted and Marty's tongues during the ride back, but most of their blather is about their girlfriends with sexual innuendoes thrown in. I couldn't care less about any of it. I'm thinking about how Apple and Frankie got me considering side sex again. Not necessarily with them, but with someone like them. I've got three years to get over thoughts like that one, but for now I'm thinking a day without a touch of sex isn't really what I'm looking for at this time in my life. Robby's remark about him being 'the head of the household', plus a couple of cute guys at the ball game got me through today okay, but I don't want to make a habit of sexless days. I mean, why should I. A wholesome healthy sex life tends to perk a person up and give him a positive outlook for the rest of what life has to offer, both the good and bad parts. Chubby drops Marty off, and then Ted. They give waves, but there's no warmth between them like I feel with my friends. It's seems as though Ted and Marty are more like acquaintances of each other rather than friends. Chubby too as far as that goes. They probably think they're friends, but there's no commitment to each other that I can detect, and if you're not committed to someone it's not much of a friendship if you asks me. On the way home, when it's just Chubby and me, I ask, "Do you consider Ted and Marty friends of yours, Chubby?" He thinks for a second, then says, "I never thought about it, but I guess they're sort of friends. I don't know what else to call them, but I guess if they weren't connected to MJ through her girlfriends I wouldn't be hanging out with them, if that's what you mean. It's like with a lot of the guys at Merrimack or high school where you like some guys better than others, but they're more the guys you go to school with than they're friends. It's like if I were introducing one of the guys from Merrimack to someone, I'd say, "This is so-and-so, who I go to college with. Something like that. Maybe someone will become a real friend by the time we graduate. Someone probably will." Huh, it's been my experience that most people have maybe one good friend and that's about it, and some don't even have one. Chubby and I went through seventeen years as best friends, and while we knew guys we liked at school, we were basically each others only real friend. I still consider Chubby my best friend, Robby my true love, and guys like Seth, Dodger, Connor and others my friends. There's a warmth between us I don't see between Chubby, Ted, and Marty. No big deal, just an observation. Chubby and I give each other a hug outside our condos and then it's time for some sleep. I had a good time tonight. I like baseball games and I love being with Chubby, the food was outstanding, and Apple and Frankie were delightful surprises. Ted and Marty didn't detract significantly from my enjoyment of the night, so I'm good. It was fun. In bed I think about Robby mostly, but not about three years from now. I'm concentrating on tomorrow night after work, and I'm hoping Robby gets another uncontrollable urge for sex with me like happened on the balcony. Sleep floods my brain until the need to piss some beer wakes me in the middle of the night. I go right back to sleep after my piss, and then it's Tuesday morning. The Tuesday before the last Tuesday of my summer vacation. I'm anxious to get back to college and sleep with Robby every night. That's what I think about while getting ready for work. When I wander in the kitchen, cheerful Chubby's is already there making coffee and after we do our good morning hello, he says, "It's almost over, Dylan. I was thinking about that this morning. We have nine days of work left this summer and then we switch gears and get into our college modes." I make my coffee, saying, "Yeah, I'm a little apprehensive and a little excited at the same time, but I don't feel like I've done everything I need to do getting ready for this year at Merrimack." Out on the balcony with our mugs of coffee, Chubby lights a cigarette, and says, "Well, Robby got the apartment situation taken care of when we were in Wildwood. You, me, and the moms secured the college loans weeks ago, we both received our Merrimack information packets so we know they're expecting us, and I've done some shopping for new clothes. I guess we'll get Robby's pickup next weekend to haul our personal stuff up to North Andover, check in with the rental office, and register for our sophomore classes. There's nothing else to do." I mutter, "I guess so," and Chubby goes, "Last year I didn't feel I was prepared, but this year I feel confident." I take the cigarette from Chubby's fingers, and take a drag. Exhaling the smoke I shrug, and say, "When you put it that way, yeah I guess we're good." We discuss what we need to take to our college apartment and decide we can do it in the Jeep, so we don't even need the pickup. The apartments furnished so we just bring our own mattress cover for the beds, our linens, our pillows, a CD player, Keurig coffee maker, Xbox, bedroom TVs, computers, and stuff like that. Yeah, we're in good shape. After coffee we're carrying clean uniforms and our lunch down the steps to the Jeep. Chubby says, "It's been a good summer vacation, but I'm ready for fall weather and a change of scenery." I go, "And football. The Pats play their first game next Thursday night." We're getting excited for the newness in our future. Actually I'm getting tired of cutting grass and weed whacking, and leaf blowing, and hedge trimming and weeding. By next summer I'll probably be looking forward to it again, as well as getting away from reading, writing, and arithmetic, or rather the college equivalence of that, but for now I've had enough summer vacation. Chubby parks the Jeep at work and as Chubby's taking our lunch to the cooler Seth comes jogging over to me. This is more like it after yesterday, that is until I see the expression on Seth's face. Then I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sensing something's weird with the atmosphere around here, I look around and don't see any of the goofiness and loud banter the guys usually are into. I ask, "What's wrong, Seth?" He says, "Oh, I thought you'd have heard by now." I shake my head, and he says, "Mister Dickers and Rob were in an accident last night in Worcester." Fuck! I don't want to hear more, but I need to, so I ask, "What kind of accident?" He goes, "I don't know, a car crash I suppose. The notice on the message board said they're both in Saint Vincent's hospital in Worcester." My heart flutters as I spot Lee going into the supervisor's meeting in place of Robby. He must know something. Seth pats my shoulder, "They'll be fine, Dylan, don't worry. It's probably just for observation or something like that" I look at him, "What?" He says, "Come on, you need to change into your work stuff." He's gently taking the clean clothes I'm holding under my arm, as he quietly says, "Come on, Dylan." I feel like crying, but now's not the time for my tears. With my mind filled with bad case scenarios I walk beside Seth staring at the door of the supervisor's office hoping to see someone who knows something. Inside the locker room it's unusually quiet. Jerry asks me, "What's the latest, Dylan? Are they going to be alright?" Why the fuck does he think I know anything? Just because Robby and I are engaged? Of course, nobody knows that. I mumble, "I didn't even know there was an accident. Seth told me three minutes ago." Chubby comes over and looks me in the eyes, asking, "You okay, Dylan? Don't jump to conclusions," and his concern for me makes me feel like crying, but now's still not the time for my tears. I say, "I'm optimistic, Chubby. Robby always wears his seatbelt and they were in his father's big ass pickup. The other car probably took most of the damage." He goes, "Yep, I'm sure you're right," and he pats my shoulder. Seth's holding out my Dickers' work tee-shirt so I change into that and then my shorts, and lastly my grass stained sneakers. "Come on, Seth, lets see what we can find out." On the blacktop we find only questions, no answers. Anyone that knows anything is in the morning meetings. Lighting a cigarette and then remembering to offer Seth one. He takes it, saying, "This is number twenty. I owe you a pack now." I glance at him, "What, Seth?" He holds the cigarette up, "This is number twenty," he says again, and I'm like, "Oh." The supervisors come out with Lee studying a computer print out of some sort. When he glances up he see all of us staring at him, so he rolls the paper up and puts it in his back pocket, walks over to us, and says, "I don't have much in the way of details, guys." He glances at me and then his eyes flicker away quickly. I didn't like that one bit as I swallow hard blinking my eyes, but it's still not the time for my tears. He says, "Their pickup was broad sided by someone and both Rob and his dad are in the hospital. That's about all anyone knows. It happened at around ten o'clock last night. Rob's mother is at the hospital along with the general manager and a couple other of the division managers, so nobody here has any idea of what, um, their condition is. Chuck says he's been in touch with Mister Cobb, the general manager, but he told Chuck getting information from the hospital isn't the easiest thing to do, and it's early in the morning so the regular hospital staff at the front desk aren't at work yet." Lee looks uncomfortable standing there. Then he says, "Lets do the job the way Rob likes it done and as soon as I find out anything I'll let everyone know." He passes out the assignments and then we all go through the motions of picking up our equipment and loading the truck. When we're ready to g o, Lee checks with Jerry who gives the thumbs-up signal and then Lee drives us out of the lot towards our first job site of the day. I'm trying to think positive thoughts. Serious injuries aren't all that common for intercity traffic accidents. I mean, they were in Worcester apparently so how fast could the vehicles have been going, ya know. If the accident occurred on the open highway I'd be panicking. Seth's hovering over me like my mom, but he means well so I give him a little crooked grin and a shrug. I sure feel like crying, fearing my optimism might be misplaced because I don't have a good feeling about this at all. Why would the top managers be at the hospital? I can understand Robby's mother being there, but why does she need the support of the top guys in the company unless it's something bad, really bad? The morning drags on. Lee's on the phone every half hour, but no further word and then at lunch Chuck Tanner drives up. When he gets out of his truck he looks over at us, then takes a deep breath before walking over. We're all around the picnic table we use twice a week and I've froze holding my sandwich halfway between the table and my mouth staring at asshole Chuck. He clears his throat, then says, "Both are alive, but Mister Dickers is in a coma." Then he holds up his hands, "It's an induced coma so the doctors can assess his situation without him suffering discomfort. He was talking a little before they induced the coma. His condition is serious, but not critical. He's not in intensive care, in other words. " He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and adds, "They were sideswiped by a senior citizen, in her eighties I understand. She claims something went wrong with her brakes, naturally. What happened is she went through a red light driving a big old Buick so there was a lot of damage that impacted the drivers side. Mister Dickers took the full brunt of the collision. Okay, that's all I got, guys, finish your lunch." Is this buffoon ever going to get around to Robby? Chuck starts to walk away, then turns around and shrugs, adding, "Oh yeah, his wife says the doctors are very optimistic, but your prayers are requested. Everyone is expected to do their jobs and we'll let the doctors do there's." I'm going to kill this idiot! I try to speak, but my words get stuck in my throat. Chubby glances at me, asking Chuck, "Um, Chuck, I assume Rob's okay, right? That's why you haven't mentioned him." Chuck says, "Oh, yeah, he'll probably be okay. He's being tested for concussion symptoms I think they said. I don't recall if there are injuries other than he'll be sore all over for awhile I'd imagine. Finish your lunch, like I said, and then get back to work." Now is the times for my tears, but they're the right kind of tears. Tears of relief. I sob and both Chubby and Seth get up as I'm up with my back to the table and walking a few steps away so my tears aren't seen by Tanner. Both Seth and Chubby put their arms across my shoulders. Seth goes, "Good news, huh, Dylan? Robby's gonna be fine." Chubby says, "It's going to be alright, bro, Robby's in great physical condition. He'll shake it off." I nod my head, afraid to try and speak as I'm desperately trying not to make a bigger ass of myself than I already have. I let a great relief flood over me as I take deep breaths, but the truth is asshole Chuck didn't seem to know what condition Robby was in. He was only concerned about the owner of the company. I tell Seth and Chubby, "I'm okay, um, thanks for caring, Chub, Seth, thanks." Chubby goes, "How 'bout that asshole, Tanner. Robby's our boss and Tanner doesn't even mention him except as an after thought." I go, "I never liked that asshole," then we go back and sit down again to finish lunch. The conversation is a little more normal now that we know everyone's alive and it seems they're going to be okay, but some of the guys had to have picked-up what I did as far as Chuck not actually knowing what Robby's situation is. It's probably why that topic is avoided and mostly we're discussing the more senior of our senior citizen being allowed to keep their driver's license. It's like we're playing Russian roulette on our highways and sidewalks. I say sidewalks because if that video I saw on line was authentic, it showed and 80-something years old woman bewildered at the wheel as she drives backwards down the sidewalk. It was caught on a surveillance camera for a department store. Why not require driving test for people over eighty? Ya know, just like sixteen year old kids have to take driving tests. Check their knowledge of the rules of the road, reflexes, eyesight, whatever. I guess it a political thing where they don't want to alienate the voting seniors. Consequently they'l never pass that kind of law. I spend a lot of time the rest of the day thinking how we're all at the mercy of happenstance. Anyone could be in the wrong place at the wrong time and disaster hits. Some sort of mayhem that's got absolutely nothing to do with you, but you pay the ultimate price anyway. I guess I could say the same for life threatening diseases that we have no idea about. Something might slowly be growing in our, whatever, brain, heart, who knows. Life is fragile and fleeting so it behooves everyone to make the best of it whiles you can. At the end of the day we know nothing new from what Chuck Tanner told us at lunch. Walking to our Jeep, Chubby says, "Well, maybe no news is good news. If there was any change I think they'd tell us." I mutter, "It's Chuck Tanner, Chubby, he shows the emotion of a stone so I don't know how valid his information is. I'm texting Robby to see if he's available to text back." Chubby's driving as I text Robby, 'I missed you today, boyfriend, please assure me you're fine. I'm worried about you. Love Dylan'. Staring at my cell phone doesn't help. I see the text was delivered, but not read. There's any number of reasons he wouldn't be in a position to read my text, none of which are reassuring. I tell Chubby, "It's delivered, but not read. So that's no help." Chubby says, "I'm not going to my part time job tonight, Dylan, I'll hang out with you if that okay." I say, "It's more than okay, Chubby. Thanks." We don't feel like cooking so we order a cheese pizza and sit on my balcony waiting for it, while we smoke. Chubby asks, "Should we text the moms about this at work?" I go, "No, it'll just worry them and there's nothing they can do. Let them enjoy themselves without this to worry about." The pizza arrives and I pay the kid not even checking him out except when he turns to leave. I think it's the kid I flirted with the last time we ordered pizza, but I don't care. The pizza goes into my preheated oven like always with delivered pizza. It's to crisped the crust again. It gets streamed inside the cardboard pizza box on the way here. I manage to eat two slices of pizza and then this becomes the first time in memory Chubby and I don't finish a pizza. Chubby and me sit on the balcony in silence as I keep checking my cell phone trying to convince myself that there's no need to worry, but it's not working. Chuck told us Robby's okay. If he were a reliable messenger I'd feel better, a hell of a lot better about things, but his information was basically worthless except for the fact Robby's alive. The rest of what he said was preceded my 'maybe' and 'I think that's what they said'. It's hard to believe that idiot wasn't even going to mention Robby's condition. The bottom line is they don't put someone in the fucking hospital for the fun of it. There's a reason he's still there. If he was out of the hospital he'd have answered my text. Hmmm, maybe his cell phone was lost or damaged in the accident. Chubby and I exchange glances and shrugs from time to time, but there's nothing really to say unless we fall back on empty platitudes, which we never do, so we wait silently. I'm glad Chubby's with me waiting for word of what's happening, but the fact that he's here with me doesn't surprise me in the least. I'd be shocked if he was anyplace other than right here with me. Time drags on to eight o'clock, so I say, "Let's take a shower, Chubby, I feel grimy." He goes, "Yeah, good idea. I'll bring some beers down after my shower." I nod my head, muttering, "Thanks." The shower feels good and I have this illogical anticipation that during the ten minutes I'm in the shower Robby will text me back. After drying I let myself feel sure they'll be a text message for me and there is, but it's from Sonny. 'Hey, hottie. How's my boyfriend? Missed you at the basketball game tonight. I'm sitting in the stands right now finding myself horny for guess who? You, that's who.' I don't text him back. Back to the balcony I go wearing only shorts. It's a warm muggy night with my hopes of connecting with Robby any time soon fading fast. Chubby comes down from his condo above mine and joins me on the balcony. He hands me an ice cold beer, pointing at my nip ring, asking, "Is it healing yet?" I go, "Not that I've noticed," and that's it for our conversation. We smoke and drink as I'm thinking this was suppose to be Robby's and my first date night as fiancé's. Ha! Some date. Finished my beer, Chubby asks, "You want another one, Dylan? I brought down a six-pack." I shrug not caring one way or the other, then my cell phone rings. I gawk at it and see it's not from Robby, it's from his mother. Looking at Chubby my cell phone keeps ringing. Chubby looks at me and I look at him... ring... ring... ring... I say, "It's from Robby's mother." ring... ring... to be continued... Donny Mumford _thinat20@yahoo.com_ (mailto:thinat20@yahoo.com) Please consider a tax deductible donation to nonprofit Nifty to help offset expenses connected to maintaining this story site.