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Logan basically melts across the couch and into my side and I hold him as he shakes. Christopher looks appalled, convinced he's done something reprehensible. I smile at him through my own tears, "Sorry, Christopher, but I think you saved Logan twice today. Maria was always right about people. You are a very, very good man."
Lake Desolation 21: In the Beginning
By Bear Pup
Thursday (11)
"No, Stettler, I'm just a guy who understands that I'm as fucked up as everyone else and have no room to really criticise you or... Larry. I've made horrible choices and hurt people who loved me. I think most humans have. Some just think they can make their own go away or pretend what they did wasn't really that bad by hating on others."
"You are still light-years ahead of most of humanity, Christopher. Especially.... especially me." I hang my head a little. "I'm sorry, Christopher, but I'm just not a very nice person, deep down."
"Who did Maria choose to marry?" I look up at him in confusion. The calm, sweet voice of a few moments earlier has sharpened remarkably. "She married you, right?" I nod. "Maria was perhaps the best person I ever knew and she picked you. So, don't be so arrogant to think you know better than she did."
Logan chuckles, then laughs aloud and Christopher joins him as I sit blinking owlishly at the changeling in front of me. One more switch from cuddly, polite and quiet to forceful, determined and right and I'm gonna have to buy him a cape and some spandex tights!
Logan speaks at last, still chuckling a little. "So, Mr Stettler McKay has been told that by, hmm, Christopher, Babs, Wally and all of the Millers. Jake has been told that by me and Maria. We can call that lawyer woman for her opinion to make it unanimous if you want." I smack the top of his head when I see the smirk.
"You watch it, you disrespectful young'uns. I may be old but I can whoop your butts. Oh, and Christopher, I know you have a rather... busy social calendar, but can you stay for supper?"
"I'd be honoured, Stettler."
"And about that. You need to call me by my name."
"Whu? I thought Stettler McKay was your name." His brow is furrowed.
"No, it's why Logan keeps calling me Jake. My real name is Jacob."
"Then where did Stettler McKay come from? Why does everyone call you Stettler?" Christopher asks in bewilderment.
"Actually, I've been wanting to ask the same thing. Spill, Jake or Stettler or whoever you are."
"Actually, Maria picked it. It's my pen name. We were on our Junior-Senior summer at University of Chicago and decided that a road trip was what we needed. It was 1972 and I had a decade-old Dodge Lancer Wagon, perhaps the ugliest car ever made until the Pacer, but it was solid as a rock and handled like one, too.
"We decided that we'd visit various friends in a loop to the West Coast, starting north in Minneapolis, then a guy who'd become an associate professor at North Dakota, a dismal place, then on to an absolutely BRUTAL drive to Edmonton. I mean, it looked so easy on the map! We didn't realize that the very helpful folks at Rand McNally had used a different scale for the Canadian maps.
"We almost made it and Maria finally forced me to stop after she watched me fall asleep with my eyes open someplace in Bumfuck, Alberta. We got up the next morning and found that we were only about two or three hours way so decided on a slow, quiet breakfast. She'd been on me the whole trip about writing, having recently gotten a very unwelcome (to me) ally in my mentor at U of C, a young professor named Murray Michaels.
"Murray was a medieval scholar, one of the rising stars. For him to tell my girlfriend that I'd be better off as a writer than a professor of medieval literature pissed me off. I'd started writing a couple of stories, one of which became my first novel, 'Madrigal of Matua', based on a high-born singer who falls in love with a lowly musician in the 1500s. Not exactly revolutionary. As we sipped our coffee, Maria started pestering me about a pen name. We'd always agree that, since I kept saying I wanted a career in academia, that writing, um, 'drivel' to use the word I chose at the time, under my own name was not a good plan.
"I was so frustrated I finally threw up my hands and said, 'Fine! You pick one, then!' and she turned to the waitress and asked, 'Pardon me, who owns the diner?' The frumpy woman blinked once and said, 'Uh, Buddy McKay. Why?' Maria smiled at her, 'Oh, no reason really. Just wondered if I knew him.' The waitress bustled off bemused. 'So, there you are. We're in Stettler, Alberta, eating at a place run by Buddy McKay. Alberta and Buddy are definitely out, so you're Stettler McKay. Done. See? Easy as pie. Ooh! They have PIE!'"
The guys had been giggling and began to laugh outright at the 'pie' line. "Is that really how you got your pen name, or just a good tale?" Logan asked.
"Really-really. And it just sounded so... right, somehow. It sounded like a guy whose books you'd want to read. And that was that. Since then, so many people just know me from the books that I'd nearly forgotten my old name; the only time I use it is on checks and contracts, after all. Christopher, I would be... very happy if you called me Jake."
"Ooooookay. Um, I'm still reeling from not calling you sir. Going all the way to Jake might take some time." He smiles.
Logan speaks up, "Um, before you say yes to supper, you should ask what it is..."
I thump him on the head again. "What a certain obnoxious little brat means is that he doesn't like what it's called."
"I am almost afraid to ask..."
"It's lasagne with mushrooms instead of meat, so everyone, even vegetarians, can enjoy it," I say rather smugly.
"Now, Christopher, asked what it's CALLED."
"Um?"
"Fine. My son called it Fungal Lasagne, but it's still good."
"Stet-- Jaco-- Jake... damn I hate people who change names." He mumbles the last part before returning to his normal voice. "You know that is why terms like Escargot and Caviar exist, right? To make people forget they're eating snails and fish-eggs, right?"
"One more word and I'm serving Cream of Wheat for Dinner. For both of you!" Logan laughs and a vaguely-appalled Christopher makes a locking-lips gesture. I inveigle my way out from under Logan and take a loaf of frozen garlic bread that I got from The Bread Basket Bakery in downtown Saratoga Springs. I always call ahead by a day or two and they make a big stack of par-baked goodies for me to freeze. Their garlic bread, with a secret blend of cheeses, garlic and butter is incomparable and takes about twenty minutes to cook. I'd found a wondrous trick. I put it on the rack over the hearthfire, covered by a pan so the heat will crisp the topping while the fire below lightly chars the crust ad adds a smoky tang to everything.
We make (very) small talk as the smell of bread crisping with garlic and cheese mingles with the aroma of the lasagne, the younger two constantly glancing at either the oven or the hearth as the scents build and their stomachs rumble. I pull the lasagne and the boys jump only to hear me say, "Sorry guys, it has to rest a few minutes." You'd think I've just told them their puppy died!
I pull the bread and uncover it, the top bubbly and golden and the edges only slightly blackened, the perfect foil for the gooey-cheesy lasagne. I portion out the fungal feast and use a cleaver to quickly chop the bread into manageable bits. I turn to find the two youngsters already seated with silverware, napkins and drinks at all three places and nearly-feral looks of starvation on both faces. I have to smile.
Even considering the naming issue, the meal is a considerable success. The conversation turns somewhat serious as hunger wanes.
"Stet--Jake, what's the plan here?" I turn to Logan and nod.
He sighs. "Jake tells me that's up to me. And I don't know. I really don't. Jake wants me to go to college, but I don't really know how that would work."
"Yeah, I see some problems there. When the college goes to get your transcript and no one at the school has ever heard of you? Then there's the college entrance exams..."
"So, Christopher," I ask, intrigued, "why aren't you in college?"
He smiled slowly. "Well, I wanted a year to make some money, but it's a bit like a leaky-bucket problem. It's not like a young guy can make much more than it costs to keep body and soul together. I figure I'll be ahead enough to enrol either at the start of the spring semester next year, if I can get the grants and loans I'll need or at least by the following fall."
"So, you'll have been out of school, what, two and a half years?"
"Yeah, about that. Why?"
"No reason. Just wondering."
Logan actually growls, "Jake, what are you thinking?"
"Nothing! Really! OW!" The little shit rams his heel into my shin. "That HURT!"
"Then answer the damned question, Jake." The look on Christopher's face is nothing short of amused, but Logan already knows me far too well.
"Okay, okay. I was just thinking that Maria would kill me if she knew Christopher wanted to go to college and couldn't and we didn't do anything about it. She would and you know it," I say pointedly to Christopher, who blushes. "In fact, she's probably seething right now that you never told her." Christopher goes from blushing to almost-mournful. He knows.
"And... now, Logan, don't kick me; I'm old... I thought, well, it might be nice for you to have a friend at college." Logan growls again. "Now, think about it. And having a friend who can tell folks he's known you, LARRY, for years? I mean, that's a pretty good thing, right?" I can hear the wheedling in my voice and quickly shift attention back to Christopher who is now squinting at me with an expression that could mean just about anything. "So, what were you planning to study?"
He waits a long time to answer. "Education, actually. I was thinking of, well, teaching." My face softens into a smile instantly.
"Oh, Maria would have loved that. To see you become a teacher. What subjects?"
"As it happened," he keeps his voice carefully neutral, "I was planning on Skidmore and have a double-minor in Sociology and Gender Studies. Why do you ask?"
"No reason! No reason at all."
"J-Jake, thank you for a wonderful meal. Larry, a pleasure to really meet you and I mean that. You are a really good guy." Christopher stands and shakes Logan's hand, the other cuffing me right across the top of my head, sort of a grazing yarmulke smack.
"HEY!"
"I hope you were paying attention, Larry. That was the head-slap that Maria always used. It was the only thing that I think ever got his attention. I expect you'll be needing it... a LOT."
I was not even slightly pleased at the gut-busting laughter the two young men shared at my expense. And Christopher was right; it was precisely what Maria did when she wanted to shut me up or push me out of a foolish notion. Darkness was coming quickly and Christopher made his way home so he could get to the sealed road by full-dark. When I came back in from wishing him well and saying goodbye, Logan had the dishes cleared. Only the remains of the lasagne was still waiting.
"What do I do with this?"
"Well, it's not enough for a meal but maybe a lunch? We could save it and reheat it, or just dump it. Your call." I point to the cupboard with my meagre stash of Tupperware. Odd, I think suddenly; it has been decades since we last had a piece of actual Tupperware, but we still call every plastic-thing-with-a-lid by that name. Just like no one ever says, "Please pass me a Puff's Facial Tissue." They always say, "Hand me a Kleenex." The words have ceased to be brands and become categories of objects.
The refrigerator door closes with a thunk. "Okay, spill. What is in that devious mind of yours?"
I blush. "Um, can we sit first?" I douse all the lights so the hearthfire's crackling flicker is the only illumination. I drag Logan to the couch and pull him down, partially across my lap and kiss his hair, his eyes, his...
"Stop it! I am not averse to cuddling as you tell me, but damned sure not instead of. Talk, Jacob, now."
I sigh deeply. "Well, I wasn't lying when I said Maria would be fine if Christopher wasn't going to college for valid, personal reasons. But for lack of coin? She'd have lectured him like a six-year-old and frogmarched him to the bank. Don't think she wouldn't either. I was, well, thinking about a, uh, a scholarship? I know he wouldn't take money from me, but if he happened to get offered a scholarship, surely...?"
"You are an incorrigible old busybody, you know that right?" At least he's smiling.
"Well, maybe."
"He'd know. He's smart. I know it is completely against your nature and all, but maybe a non-devious approach might work? You know, that thing they call honesty?"
I fake pout, "But that's no fun!"
"If -- IF! -- I decided I want to go to college AND that I want Skidmore, I'll grant that having Christopher there would be a godsend. But having him think he's a charity case would kill him, Jake. He could never accept that. You've got to understand that some people, especially some guys, want to prove they can make it on their own. Christopher is, basically, the prototype for that."
"So, I just, what, sit and watch him get old waiting to have enough cash?"
"No, you hire him."
"I what?" I blink stupidly.
"There is a shitload of work to be done on this place, Jake. You know that. If you plan on re-joining the world -- for instance, if you plan for me to go to school and still come back here nights or weekends -- you need a driveway first of all. The house needs plenty of work outside, as well as the land around. The place is scruffy -- in a good way -- but that turns to 'in a bad way' over the course of a single winter."
"So... what then?"
"Let him keep the chauffeur job because he seems to really like it. Let him work his own schedule for you, but hire him for everything you need, including being your driver (you seriously need a car, Jake). Offer him twenty dollars an hour and tell him you'll match dollar-for-dollar everything he sets aside for college." I'm still blinking, but the brilliance of this plan is seeping through.
"Do you think he'll accept thirty? Skidmore's expensive." Logan laughs.
"Jeez, Jake, you just don't quit, do you? No, that will make it obvious it's charity. Twenty is fair, maybe a bit skimpy, for hard, outside work here. It means he still has to prove he can do it on his own."
I pulled him into a long leisurely, passionate kiss. "I love you Logan Mendez."
He sighs contentedly. "And I love you back, Jacob... Did you ever even tell me your last name?"
I laugh. "I honestly can't recall. I don't think so. It's Schweitzer. Jacob Benjamin Schweitzer."
"I like that." He kisses me softly. "You know, you keep calling me Logan. Shh. I was just thinking that if I, Mr Larry Logan Mallory, call you Ben, it will just look like pet names."
I could feel my face stiffen. "I think not, Logan. My father's name was Ben and I would really rather not be called that by someone I... that I love so very, very much."
He reached up and smooths my cheek. "I'm sorry. I guess we all have families and pasts that can make us sad." We kiss again.
"Yes, we do. But we have something else as well, now." He looks at me quizzically as I bush my lips along his ear, relishing in the shiver I feel there. "We have a family in each other, and we have a future, and both of those things will make us truly happy."
<End of Lake Desolation Part 1>
No, it is NOT the end of Lake Desolation, or of the lives of Logan and Jake. But it is a transition point, and an important one. Watch for Lake Desolation University, Chapter 1, in the coming months.
Beta Reading shout-outs to Dick, Daniel, John, Ron, Roy and Skip, each of whom who made this chapter readable. Overall, special thanks go out to those six, plus Dan, Roger and Jamie. Those folks gave ideas and inspirations that improved the entire storyline.
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 35 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 27 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 29 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Culberhouse Rules: 13 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/ Raven's Claw: 11 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/ Ashes & Dust: 6 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/ Maybe Next Time: 6 chapters .../authoritarian/maybe-next-time/ Irma's Boys: 1 chapter .../adult-friends/irmas-boys/