“He’s just pissed off because Ox needs the next week off for school,” Tanner muttered. “You know how he gets when Ox isn’t here.”
I felt awful. “Maybe I could—”
“You hush that mouth of yours,” Rico said, pressing his fingers against my lips. I could taste oil. “You need to focus on school and Gordo can just deal with it. Education is more important than his little bitch-fests. We clear?”
I nodded and he dropped his fingers.
“We’ll be fine,” Tanner said. “Just get through your tests and we’ll have the whole summer, okay?”
“Ox!”
Rico muttered something in Spanish that sounded like he was calling Gordo a fucking dickhead dictator. I’d learned I was adept at picking up curses in Spanish.
I walked to the back of the shop, where Gordo was sitting in his office. His brow was lined as he did his one-finger typing thing. Tanner called it his hunt-and-pecker. Gordo didn’t think that was funny.
“Close the door,” he said, without looking up at me.
I did and sat in the empty seat on the other side of his desk.
He didn’t say anything, so I figured it was up to me to start. Gordo was like that sometimes. “You okay?”
He scowled at the computer screen. “I’m fine.”
“Awfully twitchy for fine.”
“You’re not funny, Ox.”
I shrugged. That was okay. I knew that about myself.
He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Okay.”
He finally looked up at me. “I don’t want you here next week.”
I tried keeping the hurt from my face, but I don’t think I did very well. “Okay.”
He looked stricken. “Oh Jesus. Ox, not like that. You have your finals next week.”
“I know.”
“And you know part of the deal with your ma is that your grades don’t suffer or else you can’t work here.”
“I know.” I was annoyed and it showed.
“I don’t want… just….” He groaned and sat back in the chair. “I suck at this.”
“What?”
He motioned between the two of us. “This whole thing.”
“You do okay,” I said quietly. This thing. My brother or father. We didn’t say it. We didn’t have to. We both knew what it was. It was just easier to be awkward about it. Because we were men.
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“How are the grades?”
“Bs. One C.”
“History?”
“Yeah. Fucking Stonewall Jackson.”
He laughed, long and loud. Gordo always did laugh big, rare as it was. “Don’t let your ma hear you say that.”
“Never in your life.”
“Full-time this summer?”
I grinned at him. I couldn’t wait for the long days. “Yeah. Sure, Gordo.”
“I’m gonna work your ass off, Ox.” The lines on his forehead smoothed out.
“Can I… can I still stop by next week?” I asked. “I won’t… I just….” Words. Words were my enemy. How to say that here was where I felt the safest. Here was where I felt most at home. Here was where I wouldn’t be judged. I wasn’t a fucking retard here. I wasn’t a waste of space or time. I wanted to say so much, too much, and found I couldn’t really say anything at all.
But it was Gordo, so I didn’t have to. He looked relieved, though he kept his voice stern for appearances. “No working in the shop. You come in here and you study. No dicking around. I mean it, Ox. Chris or Tanner can help you with fucking Stonewall Jackson. They know that shit better than me. Don’t ask Rico. You won’t get anything done.”
The tightness loosened in my chest. “Thanks, Gordo.”
He rolled his eyes. “Get out of here. You have work to do.”
I saluted him, which I knew he hated.
And since I was in such a good mood, I pretended not to hear him when he muttered, “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”
Later I’d remember I forgot to tell him about the Bennetts.
I WALKED home. The sunlight filtered through the trees, little shadows of leaves on my skin. I wondered how old the forest here was. I thought it ancient.
Joe was waiting for me at the dirt road where he’d been the day before. His eyes were wide as he fidgeted. His hands were hidden behind his back. “I knew it was you!” he said. His voice was pitched high and triumphant. “I’m getting better at—” He cut himself off with a cough. “Uh. At. Doing stuff. Like… knowing… you are… there.”
“That’s good,” I told him. “Getting better is always good.”
His smile was dazzling. “I’m always getting better. I’ll be the leader, one day.”
“Of what?”
His eyes went wide again. “Oh crap.”
“What?”
“Uh. Presents!”
I frowned. “Presents?”
“Well, a present.”
“For what?”
“You?” He squinted at me. “You.” He blushed fiercely. It was splotchy and went up to his hairline. He looked at the ground. “For your birthday,” he mumbled.
The guys had gotten me presents. My mom had. No one else ever really did. It was something friends did. Or family. “Oh,” I said. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.”
“Is that what you’re hiding?”
He blushed harder and wouldn’t look at me. He nodded once.
I could hear birds above us. They called out long and loud.
I gave him the time he needed. It didn’t take long. I could see the resolve flood into him, steeling his shoulders. Holding his head high. Marching forward. I didn’t know what he’d be a leader of one day, but he would be good. I hoped he would remember to be kind.
He held out his hand. He had a black box with a little blue ribbon wrapped around it.
I was nervous for some reason. “I don’t have anything for you,” I said quietly.
He shrugged. “It’s not my birthday.”
“When is it?”
“August. What are you even—geez. Take the box!”
I did. It was heavier than I thought it would be. I put my work shirt over my shoulder and he stood close. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
I untied the ribbon and remembered a dress my mother had worn once on a picnic in the summer when I turned nine. It’d had little ribbons tied in bows along the edges and she had laughed as she handed me a sandwich and some potato salad. After, we lay on our backs and I pointed out shapes in clouds and she said, “Days like this are my favorite,” and I said, “Me too.” She never wore the dress again. I asked her about it one day. She said it’d accidentally gotten ripped. “He didn’t mean it,” she said. I’d felt a great and terrible rage then that I didn’t know what to do with. Eventually, it went away.
And now this ribbon. I held it in my hand. It was warm.
“Sometimes people are sad,” Joe said, leaning his forehead against my arm. A whine sounded like it came from the back of his throat. “And I don’t know how to make it go away. It’s all I ever wanted. To make it go away.”