The Guardians Omnibus

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  Blake stood up and walked over. When he got close enough he could hear Darien teasing Quinn. When the word faggot came out of Darien’s mouth, Blake’s hands balled into fists and he angrily stormed up to Darien.

  “What did I just hear you say?” Blake shouted, “Did you just call him a faggot?”

  “I did, and what of it?” Darien asked, stepping back only to step forward again to correct his awkward flinch. “He is, you know.” A wicked smile came across Darien’s face. “I bet you’d know, given you’re his best friend and all. Or maybe you’re more than just best friends, huh Blake?” Darien asked, jeering at him while Kyle and Tony snickered behind them.

  You son-of-a-bitch.

  “You don’t know that,” Blake said, “And it’s none of your damn business how close of friends we are.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a denial,” Darien said.

  “Who cares what it sounds like,” Blake spat back, his anger boiling inside him. “Nobody cares about that shit anymore. Why should you?”

  “No,” Darien said. “That’s not how it works. People do care about being around faggots like Quinn, and maybe you.”

  Some of the guys behind Blake started shaking their heads. A few of them started saying, “Knock it off,” or “Back off, Darien.” It was clear the team was split. Well, more than split. Only Darien and three of his friends shared the particularly hateful viewpoint.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Blake saw Coach Tomlin approach, his face firm and telling that he knew a fight was about to break out. “You need to knock it off and back down,” Blake said. “You have no right to treat him like shit.”

  “I have every right and I don’t need riffraff like you telling me what I should and shouldn’t do,” Darien spat.

  Blake stepped back and cocked his right arm back, his hand tightening into a fist, ready to strike.

  “Do it,” Darien said, taunting him.

  “Blake!” The coach yelled. “Think about your choices.” Blake lowered his hand and took a deep breath. Then bared his teeth, twisted his face with rage, and let loose a primal roar at Darien as his body tensed and his fingers curled into claw-like shapes.

  Darien’s eyes widened, and he stepped back in fear. “Holy shit,” he said. “Easy man, easy.”

  “Fuck off,” Blake screamed.

  “That’s enough, Blake, “Coach Tomlin said sternly. “Darien, take your friends and go shower. Get out of here. When you come back next week, I don’t want to hear another word of this, is that clear?”

  “Yes, Coach,” Darien said, his fingers crossed behind his back.

  Blake rolled his eyes in disgust.

  “I dealt with this kind of crap in the navy when I was on a battleship. I don’t want to deal with this crap in a high school, is that understood? If I hear this kind of foulness from that feculent cesspool of a mouth you have, you’re off the team, permanently.”

  “Yes, Coach,” Darien said, looking at him funny. Then he turned and walked toward the locker rooms with his friends.

  Blake smirked. Coach had a way of mixing in unexpected and strange navy jargon—they assumed—with normal, everyday speech.

  “All of you, listen up,” Coach Tomlin barked, addressing the track team. He put his hands on his waist as the team turned to listen. Then, he pointed as he spoke. “None of you should have to deal with Darien’s horse shit. I don’t care if any of you are gay, so no one on this team says another word about another teammate liking boys, girls, or both. You all have the same damn hormones running through your bodies, so you're all dealing with similar stuff. Sure, the circumstances will be different for some of you, but puberty in high school is like being on his team. You're all in this together and you all help each other win, so cut the crap and grow up a little. Is that clear?” Coach asked. He returned his hands to his waist.

  “Yes, sir,” the team said together.

  “No one’s sexuality ever let them win or not win a race. A team works best when it works together and its members stay committed to one another. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Coach.”

  “Blake, front and center.”

  Blake stepped forward and approached Coach Tomlin.

  “It’s admirable that you wanted to stand up for your friend, but it’s troubling you were going to take down a bully with your fists. That’s not the way you should resolve it, at least not here; there are other ways to deal with bullies. I want you to figure that out because if I catch you in a school fight, I guarantee you will not only be suspended but you will be off this team as well. I can’t have four players off the team, so get your shit together and keep your temper under control. Is that clear?” the coach asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Blake answered.

  “Alright, that’s enough for today. Everyone have a great weekend. Go shower up, and no monkey business in the showers. If there’s any fighting or any more horse shit going on, there will be hell to pay on Monday. Track team, fall out!”

  Blake watched the team walk off the track field. Quinn sidled up to him.

  “Dude, were you channeling your inner Teen Wolf back there?” Quinn asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “That was awesome!”

  “Well, it worked on the show, so I figured it was worth a try.”

  ❖

  “I can’t believe he did that,” Blake said, flipping through the pages of the latest Spider-man comic that Quinn had just gotten.

  “I know,” Quinn said, “he’s such a jerk.”

  The boys relaxed on Quinn’s queen-sized bed, where the air conditioning struggled to keep the house cool that night.

  “I just don’t understand why he thinks it’s okay to pick on other people. Don’t we see enough of this on T.V. and haven’t we learned it’s not okay?” Blake asked.

  Quinn shrugged, “The world seems to be built on conflict. Everyone fights.”

  Blake chuckled, “If only you knew.” You have no idea how much people fight. Your parents are angels compared to the demons I live with.

  “Well, at least we don’t fight like that,” Blake said.

  “Like what?” Quinn asked.

  “Oh, right,” Blake answered. “Well, like my parents, for starters. And you and I don’t fight or treat each other like crap, like Darien does everyone else.

  “Naw,” Quinn said, “we’re good. I like to think we’re above that kind of stuff…that we know it’s better to help each other and help others instead of beating each other up and tearing one another down.

  A knock sounded at the open door. Blake looked up to see Mr. McAlester—or Daddio—standing there.

  “You boys about ready to crash?” He asked, “We have an early morning ahead of us.”

  “Yep, we will in just a few minutes.” Quinn said. “Good night, Daddio.”

  “Good night, guys,” Daddio said.

  “Good night, Mr. Mac,” Blake said, using the affectionate nickname he had given Daddio.

  Quinn’s father left the room and the boys decided to get ready for bed.

  “I’m going to brush my teeth,” Quinn said, rolling off his bed.

  “I will, too,” Blake said, following Quinn into the bathroom.

  Together they stood at the sink, staring aimlessly at each other and the toothbrushes in their hands as they brushed their teeth.

  Quinn stepped to the toilet and with his back to Blake, began to pee. The long-standing friendship the boys had torn down most of the barriers between them and there wasn’t much the boys didn’t share or know about one another.

  Blake spat toothpaste foam into the sink and grabbed Quinn’s mouthwash. He swigged some and swished it around his mouth. Several seconds later, he spat that out, too. When Quinn finished using the toilet, it was Blake’s turn.

  The boys headed back into Quinn’s room and Blake crawled onto the right side of the bed. Quinn shut the door and turned the air conditioning up, then approached his side of the bed. The boys had been sharing a bed during sleepove
rs since they were kids and they didn’t see a reason to stop sharing a bed just because they had gotten older or because of what Darien would think if he ever found out.

  Blake picked up his comic book and idly stared at the colorful pages. “I’m really glad your dads let me come with you this weekend.”

  “Me too,” Quinn said, pulling off his shirt and jumping into bed. He wore only his boxers. “I’m glad your parents let you come.”

  “Meh,” Blake said, sitting up and pulling off his T-shirt. “My parents don’t care. You know that.”

  “I know,” Quinn said, “I just keep hoping…”

  “Don’t bother,” Blake said, laying down. “I stopped hoping a long time ago. It is what it is, and I only have to deal with it for two more years.”

  “Well, we’re gonna have a good time this weekend,” Quinn said, “so I hope we can forget all the bad shit that’s going on. Not that there’s a lot of bad shit, but you know.”

  “Yeah, I hear ya,” Blake said. “I’m sorry, I’m just sort of bummed today. I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow. We’ll have an awesome time, I promise.”

  “Great,” Quinn said, “You can keep reading, but I’m going to bed. I’m wiped.”

  “Me too. Let’s kill the lights.”

  They each turned off the lamps on the nightstands next to their sides of the bed and then rolled over and fell asleep.

  1-4 | Family Camping Trip

  Quinn

  “WE’RE HERE,” DADDIO ANNOUNCED, WAKING the occupants of the car.

  Quinn open his eyes and blinked in the bright daylight. When they left Portsmouth at six-thirty, the sun had barely risen, but now at nine-thirty it shone brightly through the trees.

  “Thank goodness,” Blake said.

  “What do you mean, ‘Thank goodness’?” Dad asked, smiling as he shot Blake a quick glance. “You slept the entire way. We’re the ones who stayed awake to make sure you got here safely.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Blake said, smiling in the back seat. Quinn yawned and stretched his hands over the front seat, gently massaging the trapezius muscles of his dad.

  “Thanks for making sure we got here safe, dads. It’s gonna be an awesome weekend.”

  “I can’t believe I slept the whole way,” Blake said.

  “We can’t either,” Daddio said, chuckling.

  Quinn said, “I didn’t think we were that tired, but I guess yesterday’s run through New Castle really wiped us out.”

  “I agree with you,” Blake said. “Did we hit any traffic?”

  “Not really,” Daddio said. “We left early enough that all the Massachusetts folk heading into Maine this morning weren’t even out of bed yet.”

  “Great,” Quinn said. “I’m glad that was so easy.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Daddio checked them into Woods Lake Campground. Then, they drove the vehicle to the campsite and when they had parked, they climbed out to stretch their legs. Daddio went to the back of the SUV and opened the tailgate and while Dad walked around and explored the camping area.

  “Well, if our fireplace is right there, then I guess maybe we should put our two tents over there. What do you guys think?” Dad asked, pointing as he spoke.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Me too,” Blake added, agreeing with his best friend.

  “Okay then, let’s set up our tents,” Dad said.

  Quinn nodded and grabbed his red tent from the back of the vehicle. Then, he and Blake walked over to an area and checked for small rocks and tree roots.

  “The ground is dry here, so this should be a good spot. What do you think?” Blake asked.

  “Works for me,” Quinn agreed.

  Quinn started unpacking the tent and Blake helped. Alongside them Dad and Daddio unpacked and set up their tent.

  “Are you sure you didn’t want us to set up the big family tent?” Dad asked, teasing his son.

  “No thanks, Dad,” Quinn said. “I’m sure you guys would love your privacy.”

  Blake chuckled.

  “Aw,” Daddio said. “You don’t want to have family time with us anymore?”

  Quinn rolled his eyes and smiled, “You know what I mean. So, uh, Dad, you should move your tent over about ten feet.”

  Dad smiled. “Sounds good to me.” Then he winked at the boys.

  “Oh man,” Blake said.

  “Tell me about it,” Quinn added. “Maybe we should go ten feet in the other direction,” Quinn said, winking at his best friend.

  “Hey, it won’t hurt. The woods are pretty quiet at night, if you know what I mean.”

  The dads and the boys moved their tents further apart. Once Quinn and Blake had staked their tent in the ground, they inserted the support poles and raise the tent into position. When the boys finished, Quinn grabbed the air mattress and Blake grabbed the air pump. They took turns inflating it and when they were done, Daddio handed them their air mattress.

  “Since you boys did such a great job with yours, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind blowing ours up.”

  Quinn and Blake smiled and said, “No, of course not.”

  As the boys worked, Dad and Daddio grabbed the faded red picnic table from the far end of the site and moved it closer to the fireplace. Now their tents were on each side of the clearing and the fireplace and picnic table were in the middle. After setting up a rain shelter near the dad’s tent, Dad strung a rope from one tree to the other for the clothesline while Daddio grabbed some of the coolers and set them on the picnic table.

  “Are you guys hungry now?” Daddio asked. “We got up early and…”

  “Yes, we’re teenagers, we’re always hungry,” Quinn said.

  Blake smiled and added, “What he said.”

  “Well I don’t have anything ready to cook, but we have some protein bars and snack foods. So, dig in.” He pulled a zip-lock bag full of snacks from one of the food bags and set it on the picnic table. He checked his watch. “It’s a bit too early for the meats and cheeses, so I think we should…”

  “Wait,” Quinn said, “did you really make meats and cheeses?” he asked. “Like a charcuterie for a cutting board with fancy meats and cheeses?”

  His dad offered a guilty smile. “Maybe.”

  “You’re ridiculous, Daddio,” Quinn said.

  “Hey,” he said, “just because we’re camping doesn’t mean it can’t be a fabulous time. Right, hon?”

  “That’s right,” Dad called from the other side of the tent, his back to them.

  “What are you doing?” Quinn asked.

  “Watering this pine tree! Mind your own business.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  After they ate some snacks, the boys unloaded their sleeping and duffle bags from the car and set everything inside their tent. It was spacious, so they had plenty of room to spread out comfortably.

  “Actually,” Daddio said, looking at his watch again, “it’s late enough in the morning that if we used the gas grill we could have some burgers and dogs and then head off to the beach for the afternoon. What do you think?”

  “Sounds great,” Blake said.

  “That’s awesome, let’s do it,” Quinn said.

  Dad nodded. Together, the dads lugged the grilling equipment from the back of the vehicle and set it up on the other side of the picnic table. Quinn and Blake shifted some of the coolers around so there would be more room and they would have a place to eat. Fifteen minutes later, pre-made hamburger patties and hot dogs were sizzling on the grill while Dad buttered some buns and placed them on the outer edges of the grill, so they would brown.

  “What do you guys want to drink?” Quinn asked, knowing the answer.

  “I’m going to have some root beer,” Daddio said.

  “Me, too,” Dad said.

  “Blake?” Quinn asked.

  “Uh, pick a soda for me.”

  Quinn smiled with gratitude as he pulled four root beers from the cooler. He knew his dads discreetly sacrificed alcoholic drinks because they understood
Blake’s father drank at any point in the day and they didn’t want to cause his best friend any undue stress or worry. A few minutes later, the guys enjoyed their first camping meal together.

  “Oh no, I forgot the chips,” Daddio said through a mouthful of hamburger.

  “No, you didn’t,” Quinn said. “I think they’re in a bag over here.”

  “Oh, thank heavens! I can’t have a burger without chips,” Dad said.

  Quinn rummaged through some bags near him and pulled out the bag of salt and pepper potato chips. “Camping trip disaster averted,” he said, winking at his father.

  “Thank heavens!” Daddio echoed, winking at his son.

  “By the way, Dad, where’s your cell phone?” Quinn asked, looking at his father.

  Dad smiled and pulled it out of his pocket. “Here you go. Just keep it nearby and in a safe place so that if we need it I’m not panicking for it.”

  “No problem,” Quinn said. “I’ll make sure it’s inside the lock box in the vehicle.”

  “Do I have to turn in my phone?” Daddio asked.

  “That depends,” Quinn said, “Will your office be texting you or emailing you, and will you be checking it throughout the weekend?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then you’re safe.” Quinn responded.

  “Yay,” Daddio said, winking at his husband.

  “But I don’t expect you to be on it, just like Blake and I are putting our phones away as well.”

  “We are?” Blake asked, looking up through a mouthful of hot dog. “I didn’t know that.”

  Quinn smiled. “New rules, I guess.”

  Blake shrugged. “I don’t have cell service up here, so I’ll keep my phone on me.”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh,” Daddio said, raising his phone. “I don’t have cell service up here, either. I guess the office couldn’t reach me even if they wanted to.”

  “Good,” Quinn said.

  “I’m a little surprised there’s no service,” Dad said. “You’d think that would be important around a campground.”