The Mason List

by S. D. Hendrickson

  I felt the stress oozing from his body. He was different than the carefree boy I’d left behind at Sprayberry. This man felt the weight of the world driving him along, pushing and pulling alongside a cliff. Lifting my head from his strong shoulder, I peered into the familiar face. “You’ve changed.”

  “I have?” The eyebrows furrowed up.

  “Not in a bad way.” I touched his cheek, feeling the stubble under my index finger. “I’ve known you for so long, I guess you just feel different. It’s a good different. I know it’s hard, but it makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” his lips turned into a wry grin on the corners that faded into a little laugh, “Happy as a gambler who won a three-tit hooker.”

  “What?”

  “Frank. Gotta love the nasty old bastard,” he chuckled, letting out another yawn. His eyes seemed heavy as he leaned his head back on my wall. I nestled myself against his side. “The Bar got pool tables and some coffee shop couches. Ernie’s tryin’ to upscale the place I guess. I’ve been there some with Buzz.”

  “Buzz is back?”

  “I thought you’d heard. He blew out a knee his second year at West Palo. He was picked up by Tech before it happened too. Shitty luck, I guess. He went off the grid after that and worked as a rough neck down in the Gulf. He got tired of living on the rigs and came back lookin’ for a job. Buzz said he missed Arlis. Oh, and he goes by Bobby now. You’ll have to see him before you leave. I hired him to work at Sprayberry.”

  “Buzz goes by Bobby and he works for you?”

  “Yup. Still gettin’ use to usin’ his real name too.” He let out a big yawn, drowning out the last works. “Ashley’s back too you know. She’s got a kid.”

  “No! She has a child? Like, she’s a mother?”

  “Yup. Little girl.”

  “She doesn’t look anything like you, right?”

  “You just like bein’ nasty don’t you. She’s not tellin’ anyone who the father is. I don’t think he’s from here. She just showed up with the baby. She’s workin’ at the hospital as a nurse too.”

  “Wow. I just can’t see her as a nurse. That would require Ashley to actually be nice.”

  “It has been a long time, you know. My dad says she’s not too bad. I haven’t seen her yet.” His boots hit the wood floor as he stood up. My chest tightened. Jess was leaving. The clock arms turned at warp speed this visit. One blink and I would board a plane. One blink and he would be gone for another year or more.

  “You leaving?”

  “Nah.” Jess pulled off his shirt. “I’m stayin’.”

  “Wha…what are you doing?” I tried not to look, feeling my cheeks turn red. His body had changed into a more filled-out adult version of himself, with a center patch of dark chest hair. In a few more years, Jess would be the mirror image of Dr. Mason; most considered him an attractive man stuck with the perpetual boyish face. Jess would look even better, with the smile of that ornery boy frozen in time. And as he grew older, that pair of blue eyes would still shine like sunbeams from a pile of wrinkled skin.

  “I’m exhausted. I think I’ve been awake for ‘bout thirty hours, and before that, we worked cattle for several days straight.” Each boot came off, and he lined them next to my bed. “I stayed up takin’ care of one last night. Prolapsed uterus and lots of blood. She pulled through.”

  “Guess you have learned something.”

  “Guess I have. I lost two the other day though. Coyote pack took ‘em down.” He dropped his jeans, leaving just his blue plaid boxers. He knew I was looking at him and gave me a wink. I rolled my eyes back at him shaking my head no. “Come on, Al. It’s not like your Dad’s here to kick me out this time. How old were we? Twelve or thirteen?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “I never saw him get worked up ‘bout us too many times. But that night. Damn. He looked like he was goin’ to explode. He threw my duffle bag right out your window. I stood there confused as shit.”

  “Dad had taken me to buy tampons that day and freaked out. Then he tried to give me some kind of sex talk.”

  “Betcha just turned bright red.”

  “No, jerk.” I frowned, throwing my pillow toward his head. He ducked and the fluffy square hit my desk instead. A book fell, vibrating off the wood floor while the graduation picture teetered on the edge. Distracted, I didn't see Jess grab the pillow for a quick hit to my face, smothering me down against the bed. I screamed into the fabric as he let go, laughing so close I could smell his brushed teeth.

  “So what’d he say ‘bout me?”

  “Nothing. He just said you couldn’t stay anymore and then kicked your stupid ass out like I’m about to.”

  “You can’t kick my ass. And you know what happens when you try.” Jess climbed on the bed next to me and held the pillow up like a threat. He smiled with humorous eyes racked in fatigue. I felt a tightening in my chest as I watched my friend. I had missed him more that I could even put into words.

  “Maybe I’ve gotten better at it while I was gone.”

  “Doubt it.” Letting go of the pillow, Jess lifted the blanket up, exposing my bare legs sticking out from under his shirt. He reached over and pulled the hem down to cover my panties from being exposed. His face grew serious. “Tell me to go and I will.”

  “Don’t go.” Nothing inside of me could look into that sweet face and tell him to leave. I moved to the edge letting Jess slide between me and the wall. Under the faded purple comforter, his body fit snug against my back and curved around my butt. I reached up and turned off the lamp, bathing the room with only moonlight. I relaxed into the steady beat of his heart against my shoulder blades.

  “You still smell like peaches.”

  “You just want me to smell like peaches.” I smiled in the darkness, feeling his left hand settle in the center of my stomach over my belly button. Our feet intertwined, making the cold stiffness of my toes melt into his skin. Our bones settled and our muscles relaxed.

  “I hate workin’ all day and crawlin’ into bed alone,” he whispered into my hair. “It’s a sad feelin’ bein’ here sometimes. It makes me miss you. It only feels right when you’re here too.”

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea, Jess.” I tried to move away, but his biceps grew tighter into a bear hug, clutching me to his chest.

  “Please stay. I just want to lay next to you tonight. Feel you beside me. Hold you. I need this, Al.” His heart beat faster through the fabric of my shirt. I needed to say no. Staying with him was a very bad idea.

  “Ok.”

  He released his tight grasp, letting his fingers graze over my arms. They skimmed across my breasts and settled into a comfortable embrace back over my stomach. His breath felt warm against my neck. I fought the internal struggle and relaxed against his chest again. He felt too damn good.

  “Tell me about Paris,” Jess whispered in my hair.

  My eyes darted to the old poster that was tacked to the wall with the yellowed tape; the one I had stared at night after night in this very bed. That picture failed to give it justice. “It’s beautiful.”

  “More than Sprayberry?”

  “Different than Sprayberry.” I thought about all the days I had spent wondering around the city; all the places I traveled. “I like the buildings. They’re so incredibly old. The history is just different when you walk down the streets. You see it and feel it in an entirely different way.”

  “I don’t even know all the places you’ve been.”

  “Mainly Paris. I saw Marseille. I took a train down to Avignon and Nice. Italy was so incredible. I loved Florence and Rome. A few months ago, I flew over and spent a weekend in London. I took a bus out to Stonehenge. I sent you postcards.”

  “I know.” I felt his breath settle into the folds of my hair. “I kept ‘em all.”

  “I draw bridges now.”

  “What makes you do that?”

  “I don’t know. Something about them being so large and vacant I guess. Even with all the people,
they exist as lonely giants towering over everything.” Just like me, but I kept that part out. “Parc Monceau has this little red one. I must have sketched it twenty different times, from twenty different spots.” I felt his hand link through my fingers and rub over my knuckles as if he imagined the pencil clasped there in frantic motion.

  “Parc dec Buttes Chaumont has this waterfall. They made it I think, but it’s still beautiful shoved in the middle of a city. A white marble gazebo looks over the water. It’s not a really a gazebo like the ones in Texas. They call it Temple de la Sibylle. There’s a cement bridge sticking out of the rocks. I’ve never seen anything like it. So I had to put it down on paper.”

  “I like hearin’ you talk about it. Makes me know that you’re happy there. I can hear it in your voice.”

  With his arms wrapped around my body, his words made me feel sad, not blissfully content the way Jess imagined. The thoughts caused me to pause for a moment before continuing with the story he wanted to hear. I talked of Gustave Eiffel’s suspension bridge and the one dubbed the suicide plunge. My voice grew faint with Montmartre Hill and Luxemburg Gardens. His breath grew shallow against my ear as I described every inch of the Louvre Museum.

  Our bodies breathed the same, they breathed together, but I think they always did. Listening to Jess sleep, a peaceful feeling came over my body and whisked me away into my own dreams. A night full of haunting images flashed like snapshots from my subconscious; a colorful strobe of pictures very far from Paris.

  I dreamed of the meadow full of green grass. The wind brushed my face. I heard the sound of laughter as I looked over my shoulder. A dark-haired boy tackled me to the ground. A set of blue eyes stared down at me with a wink. I smiled, feeling his lips press against my skin.

  The intensity of the need for him spread through my body. I clung to the secret hidden images, never wanting them to stop. His hand teased up my leg and over my knee. His fingers spread across the smooth skin of my thighs. I wanted this. I wanted him. He pulled the hem of my shirt slowly over my head.

  I was naked beneath him as he kissed me. It felt incredible. His mouth tugged at my bottom lip. He slipped his tongue over mine, leaving a sweet, minty trail. A warmth spread through my body, alerting my mind; making me more awake, more aware with each kiss that I wasn’t in some dream. I blinked back into his blue eyes, watching me from my childhood bed.

  “Is this real?” I whispered.

  “Yeah.” His lips moved over my bare skin. “You still think ‘bout it, don’t you?”

  I was having a hard time staying focused as his mouth touched my right breast. My breath caught in my lungs. “We were supposed to forget.”

  He lifted his eyes and watched my face. “I never was much good at forgettin’ you. I thought ‘bout us every day that you were gone. I thought ‘bout how this would feel.”

  Those words broke through the shreds of my reserve. I wanted to see Jess tonight, but I needed to feel him too. Placing a hand on each side of his cheeks, I looked into his sweet face. The sincere admission caved whatever was left of right or wrong. I kissed him. I kissed him hard, giving him everything I could in that moment.

  “Alex. I just want you to know. There hasn’t been anyone else,” he whispered the faint words against my lips.

  I had no right to feel happy, but the emotions twisted up through my chest. “Me either.”

  “No?” Jess seemed relieved.

  “No,” I whispered. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I pulled his warm body as tight as I could against my bare skin. Nothing would ever compare to the way it felt like to really be us. My nails dug into his shoulders with every movement. His warm breath spread across my neck with each gasp; a frenzy of lost time ending almost before it started. As the moonlight came through my bedroom window, the second time lingered more like the drip of sweet honey as I slipped into another beautiful and hazy memory of being completely consumed by Jess.

  We kept going until he collapsed asleep, with me draped across his body. I heard the peaceful sound of his steady heart beating against my ear. In the morning, the guilt would eat away like acid into undeniable regret. Tonight, I pushed it away. Tonight, my dream was real. I drifted off to sleep, with my cheek against the soft patch of curls in the center of his chest, and his hand resting in a possessive embrace over my bare hip.

  A buzzing pulled me from the warm cocoon. Using every ounce of energy in my body, I crawled from the twisted pile of limbs. I picked up my phone, trying to shut the screeching thing up before it woke Jess.

  “Hmm.”

  “Alex?”

  “Umm. Hold on.”

  Damn! I didn’t need Sadie’s dose of moral medication this morning. Pulling on my shirt, I slipped out the bedroom door, closing it quietly behind me. I caught one last glimpse of his sleeping face before it shut. At the kitchen table, I peered at the cell phone screen, trying to pull together something she wouldn’t detect in my voice. I put a big smile across my bruised lips. He made me feel things; physical things that would be impossible with someone else. The smile became embarrassing real. Shut it down, Alex.

  “Sorry, I was still asleep.”

  “Don’t you get up with the rooster or something down there in Arlis?”

  “For the last time, no roosters live at Sprayberry. Why are you calling me so early anyway?”

  “Sweetie, I can accomplish more before breakfast than most can in an entire day.”

  “It’s six am on Thanksgiving morning.”

  “Now that I am working on Senator Andrew’s campaign, I have to look awesome and be awesome at the drop of a hat. The day and time are irrelevant.”

  “You are insane.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “I’m not whispering.”

  “Sweetie, I know you. And that’s denial whispering.”

  “I’m jet lagged. I flew in from Paris yesterday. Remember?”

  “I’m not buying it. Where are you?”

  “At my dad’s house.”

  “And where is our favorite cowboy right now?”

  “At Sprayberry.”

  “One and the same. Very evasive, sweetie. So, what did the dysfunctional childhood friends do last night?”

  Sadie could twist me a new one with the slightest wave of her hand, even from hundreds of miles away. I wondered how many other people’s moral conscience wore pink lipstick and had wicked hazel eyes. Even this early in the morning, I pictured her beautiful blonde hair bouncing along with each high heeled, perky step. Good grief, I hated her sometimes.

  “Sadie, I don’t want to hear it, ok? It was his idea. Not mine.”

  “Does it really matter who caved? Again, I might add?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Fine. Keep turning in these cataclysmic circles of destroying your friendship then putting a Band-Aid over the real issue. Two steps forward for Jess, only to have you yank that silk rug right out from under his boots when you leave for another year. Speaking of which, that’s why I called. Are you still coming to Chicago on the way back?”

  The air exhaled from my lungs with a hiss between my teeth. Regret. I knew it would come in the morning. I hated that evil little creature chopping away at my memories from last night, making the guilt churn in my stomach. Thank you, Sadie. Thank you very much!

  “I’m still coming. I’ll email my flight schedule.”

  “I am truly sorry, sweetie. I really hate putting a damper on your Thanksgiving reunion by pointing out the obvious, but you are not doing Jess any favors. His idea or yours? Still the same outcome.”

  “You’re right. Ok.”

  “As always.”

  I rubbed my tired eyes, feeling them move around in their sockets. A migraine loomed. “So what phony Thanksgiving dinner are you attending since you stayed in Chicago?”

  “We have three stops today, including a recorded segment at a soup kitchen.”

  “Are you having Andrew spoon feed a bag lady for the American people to watch?”


  “Alex! Be nice. It’s a very nice gesture. Then tonight we have a formal gala with the Governor at the annual lighting of the Christmas tree. He’s endorsed Senator Andrew, you know. Game changer for us.”

  “Hmmm. Congratulations. Are you taking the Harrison Waldengrave the Fourth?”

  “Why must you always say it that way?”

  “What else do you call someone who sounds like an English Lord?”

  “Don’t be pretentious. Harrison is a normal guy. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  “I’m sure he’s a regular prince charming.” It was time to end this call before I snapped at her well-intended interference. “Look, I’m tired. No coffee yet this morning. I’ll let you go. See you in a few days.”

  “Goodbye. Oh and eat a piece of turkey for me. You know I gave up antibiotic filled protein but I’m feeling a little remorse today. First Thanksgiving without roasted duck, but I guess your turkey will do.”

  “And I still take advice from you. Seems a little wrong.”

  “But you know I’m always right. People pay money for it now. That’s an idea. I should send you an invoice. Maybe, that would make that self-destructive head of yours listen for a change.”

  “Goodbye, Sadie.”

  “Bye, sweetie.”

  I clasped the phone in my hand, feeling the weight of the coming conversation with Jess; less than twenty-four hours on American soil and we had already created an uncomfortable situation.

  Through the kitchen window, only slivers of orange radiated out of the darkness. Morning had yet to make an appearance at Sprayberry. I could leave. I could sneak out before his dark lashes even opened. It’s what I did last time, and it saved our friendship. I could do it again; pull on some pants and leave before he woke, followed by an awkward few days of Thanksgiving then a plane ride back to Paris.

  Turning the knob, I prayed the door didn’t squeak. Jess sat fully dressed on the edge of my bed with a piece of paper in his hand, reading by the bedside lamp. He looked up at me and frowned.

  I froze. I froze as my heart stopped and skipped a beat. The words on that paper were more personal than any diary entry ever could be; it contained the stuffing inside my blackened soul. The pain resumed just behind my rib cage and my arms went numb.