by A. M. Burns
“You probably know Holmes as Kareem Hassan. Right now, it’s your word against his, kid.” The detective’s look softened. “The store owner says that you were with them, that Holmes had you by the shoulder, almost like he was going to use you as a shield. He assures us that you didn’t do anything after he pushed his panic button and shot the others. We didn’t find a gun on you and you don’t have a record.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Uncle Bryan spoke up for the first time since they entered the office.
“That will help if this goes to trial.”
Dillon’s heart rose into his throat. “Trial?” He slumped deeper into the chair. “All I wanted to do was stop in there and get a soda with the five dollars Mom gave me because it was the last day of school.” He glanced frantically to the adults in the room. “It’s not my fault that the Shanks picked that time to go in there and hold up the place. It really isn’t.”
Detective Graham made some more notes. “For what it’s worth, kid, I believe you. Your reactions aren’t those of a gang member. The drug test we did also came back negative. Most gang members aren’t clean. I bet you’ve been picked on a bunch by these guys. I’ll pass my opinion to the DA, and it will be up to him to decide if you go to trial with Holmes or not. I guess the clerk saved the taxpayers some money by killing the other two.”
“Too bad he didn’t get Kareem too,” Dillon’s mother muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Dillon, your mother said you’re staying down in Kerens right now, is that correct?” Graham made some more notes.
“Yes, sir.” His voice felt stronger. “I’m spending the summer with Uncle Bryan. Mom thought it would be a good idea for me to be out of town for a while. Let everything cool down.”
“Probably not a bad idea,” Detective Graham agreed. “I highly recommend you don’t leave the state. That would look really bad for you. Once the DA has made his decision, we’ll know more. Actually, if the Shanks think you might say anything against them, it might be safer for you to be out of town, somewhere people wouldn’t think to look for you.”
Dillon’s mother paled. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Uncle Bryan patted her hand. “If nothing else, my place is hard to find. Dillon will be safe out there.”
Detective Graham tore off a piece of paper and slid it across the desk to Uncle Bryan. “Mr. Smith, if I could get your contact information and physical address, just in case we need to get in touch with Dillon and can’t reach Mrs. Smith.”
“Of course.” Uncle Bryan quickly jotted down the information and passed it back to the detective.
Graham glanced over it and nodded. “Good. Well, that should be all for now. If we need anything, we’ll be in touch.” He stood and walked to the door as they rose from their chairs.
“Thank you for being so understanding,” Dillon’s mother said with a sexy look.
“We know that things aren’t always black and white.” He held the door for them.
They left the police station quickly and paused on the sweeping steps.
“So, Milly, do you want to go get some lunch with us, before I take Dillon to get a haircut?” Uncle Bryan asked.
“No time. I need to get to work. My boss wasn’t happy about me taking the time to come do this, but unless I wanted to get a lawyer to come and sit with you guys I had to be here.” She gave Dillon a brief hug. “You keep being a good boy for Uncle Bryan, and I’ll try and see you in a week or so. I think I can find my way out there without getting too lost.” She turned and retreated down the stairs, only to stop at the bottom and turn back to them. “I’ll call you soon, sweetie.” Then she took off down the sidewalk, the sound of her high heels ringing out over the din of the traffic.
The feeling of abandonment he experienced from time to time since going out to Kerens washed over Dillon. He sighed and looked at Uncle Bryan. “Well, I guess that could’ve gone worse. They could’ve arrested me.”
Uncle Bryan started down the stone steps, heading the opposite way Dillon’s mother had gone. “That would’ve been worse. Actually, when you look at it, I think it went pretty good. At least the detective says he believes you. I’ve got my fingers crossed that everything’s going to come out okay. Tell you what. I know a nice little place to get you a haircut that’s not too far away from a couple of good spots for lunch. What do you say?”
With a final patting of his hair, Dillon nodded. “Sure. If we let this stuff get much longer it’ll look like it’s ready for an afro, and I’m not about to do that.”
Uncle Bryan laughed. “I can’t see you with a ’fro. I thought those went out of style years ago.”
“Some folks at school were trying to bring them back last year. I got just enough of my hair from my father that it might work, but I don’t want to try it.” As they walked away from the police station, Dillon relaxed more and more. If the detective believes me, then there is hope. I don’t think I’ll ever go into another store just to buy a soda, ever again. It’s not worth the risk.
11
DILLON STARTLED awake as something knocked on his bedroom window. For a moment he lay there, trying to figure out what made the noise he heard. Then it came again. He rolled out of the bed and stumbled sleepily to the window.
Scott stood outside, grinning at him.
After opening the window, Dillon stared out. “What are you doing out here?”
“Come out. I’ve got something to show you.” His voice low, Scott’s grin didn’t fade.
“Can it wait?” Dillon failed to stifle a yawn.
“Nope. This is a nighttime-only event. Come on.”
Dillon glanced at the illuminated clock on the nightstand. It read 11:45 p.m. He yawned again as he turned back to Scott. “I need to get dressed.”
“If you insist. But don’t take too long.”
“How do I get out without waking Uncle Bryan?” Dillon found the shirt he’d taken off an hour before and pulled it over his head.
“Will this screen pop out easily?” Scott asked, pulling lightly at the edge of the screen.
“Let me look at it.” With his jeans in hand, Dillon walked back to the window. There were a couple of release tabs along the bottom of the window. “I think so. Give me a sec.” He turned his back on Scott and pulled off his shorts and put on his jeans. When he couldn’t grab his discarded socks easily, he grabbed a clean pair before slipping on his shoes. Then he easily removed the screen and was out the window, thankful that it wasn’t the apartment where he wasn’t on the ground floor. Here, there wasn’t even a drop from the window.
Scott handed him a flashlight. “Here, but wait a couple of minutes before you turn it on. I didn’t need mine; the moon’s nearly full.”
There was enough light from the sky Dillon could easily see where he was going and he fell into step with Scott as they headed down the driveway. “So what’s all this about?”
“It’s a surprise. I got to thinking about it, and you’ve had a hard day and could use something cool to end it with.” Scott sounded smug and happy as they walked down the road toward his house.
“Yeah, but why didn’t you want to do this earlier when you didn’t have to come knocking on my window? What do we tell Uncle Bryan if he finds out I snuck out? Things are going pretty good with him right now. I’d hate to screw that up.”
“If Bryan gets upset, I’ll talk to him. Explain that this whole thing was my idea to make your day better.” Scott turned up a driveway.
Dillon paused. “Wait a second. Who lives here?”
“Oh, this is the place, but don’t worry about it. The Tubalds are out of town right now. My dads are keeping an eye on their place for them, but we won’t be anywhere near the house.” Scott grabbed Dillon’s hand and pulled playfully.
The touch sent tingles across Dillon’s skin and warmth flowed up his arm. His heart beat fast and strong as a strange knot formed in his gut. “If you’re sure.” He gave into Scott’s tug.
Scott
didn’t turn his hand loose as they continued down the driveway. “I’m sure. It’s going to be fine. We’re almost there.”
The night-dark forest closed in around them for about fifty feet, and then it gave way to a large clearing. On the far side of the clearing, little lights danced along the edge of a pond.
“Are those fireflies?” Dillon asked.
“Yup.” The smug happy tone in Scott’s voice intensified as he let go of Dillon’s hand and spread his arms wide. “Isn’t it cool? I thought you would like to see them. They aren’t around all year, just a few weeks during the summer.” He walked toward a dark shape near the water’s edge. “Come on, we can sit over here and watch them.”
Dillon hurried to follow. He’d never seen fireflies before and was entranced by the way they flickered off and on like off-white holiday lights. Around them came the soft night noises of frogs, crickets, a whippoorwill, and an occasional soft buzzing that he couldn’t identify. After the day of going into the police station, it felt alien to him, but he welcomed it. It was just another aspect to the area he was becoming more comfortable with than the urban sprawl he’d grown up in.
The bench at the water’s edge was concrete, still warm from the day’s sun. It was like it had been set up to take advantage of the night view of the pond. At that moment, the moon reflected perfectly in the center of the pond. I wish there was some way to hold on to this image for the rest of my life. This is perfect. I wonder if there’s any way I could get something like this when I grow up and get my own place.
“What are you thinking?” Scott’s voice broke into Dillon’s inner thoughts.
“How perfect this is. Areas like this aren’t that common in the city. I’d love to have this for my very own all the time.”
“I hear you. Every time I go into town, I realize how lucky I am to live out here, well away from the noise and chaos.” A mischievous grin spread across his face, and the moonlight glistened off the perfection of blue eyes. “Speaking of noises, let’s try something. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.” Scott took a deep breath and let out a long high whistle that sounded a lot like a horse’s whinny. He repeated the process.
“Are you trying to call horses?” Dillon asked.
“No,” Scott replied, barely above a whisper. “Stay as still and quiet as possible, and we’ll see what happens.” He whistled again.
In the distance, something responded. Scott repeated his whistle. This time the answering call came from the other direction. Then the first one sounded closer. Scott called one more time, then fell silent. Four or five calls came from all around them.
“What are they?” Dillon did his best to keep his voice low so as not to break the scene developing around them.
A shadow passed over the moon and rippled across the pond. Dillon swallowed as his heart pounded harder than ever.
Scott took his hand again, and Dillon jumped slightly, but held on to the anchor as the unknown unfolded in the darkness around him. Another shadow swooped out of the trees and the calls became a crescendo around them. Then a small shape landed near them. The moonlight shone on the large blinking eyes of the small owl. It called at them once before taking off again.
“Owls,” Dillon whispered. “Little tiny owls.” His fear vanished, and the wonder of the scene flooded through him.
“Yeah.” Scott’s words were little more than warm breath that tickled the side of Dillon’s neck.
Knowing what he was seeing, it was easier for Dillon to spot the little owls as they flew and whistled through the trees around the lake. A couple of them started diving into the gathered lightning bugs, scattering the flashing lights.
A deeper call reverberated through the woods. It sounded more like what Dillon thought owls should sound like. Suddenly all the smaller owls grew silent and flew away. Dillon looked but couldn’t see the source of their concern, then a larger shadow passed over the moon.
“Great horned owl,” Scott told him in a continued hushed tone. “Be really quiet and really still, maybe she’ll land.”
Dillon held his breath, but didn’t hear anything until a branch creaked lightly. He turned his gaze toward the noise. Scott tapped him on the shoulder with his free hand and pointed low across the pond.
The moonlight was just enough to pierce the leafy cover and cast a silhouette of the owl. When it blinked, the light reflected for a split second in its wide eyes. Then, as quietly as it had arrived, it left.
With a soft huff, Dillon let out the breath he held, and then it seemed like the whole clearing let out its breath too as he suddenly became aware of the toads and crickets again. He hadn’t even realized they had all gone quiet as the owls visited the pond, drawn in by Scott’s whistling.
“That was incredible.” Dillon smiled at Scott. “How did you get those smaller owls to come in like that, and what were they?”
“Screech owls, like the ones we’ve got in the one flight at the house. All I did was whistle. Owls are very territorial and calls are one way that they mark their areas. They all thought I was an intruder and were showing up to kick my ass. I guess the great horned came in hoping to catch one of the smaller guys. So, what do you think, was this worth getting up in the middle of the night for?”
A wide smile spread across Dillon’s lips. “Yeah, it was totally worth getting up for. I just wish we had some way of capturing it on video or something. But I bet that wouldn’t be as awesome as being here in real life. Thank you.”
Unexpectedly, Scott hugged him. “You’re welcome. I wanted to make your day better.”
Without thinking about it, Dillon hugged him back. It felt good. “You’ve made my days better since I came out here.”
“Good, ’cause I’m not done tonight.” Scott turned loose of him and rose from the bench. He pulled his shirt off. “Come on, I’m going to show you another fun thing about country living.”
Dillon stared at him as he slipped out of his shoes and pants to stand there naked in the moonlight. “What?”
Scott dashed off into the pond. “Skinny-dipping. After a hot day, it doesn’t get any better than this.”
The happy feeling of seeing the owls and the strange pleasantness of the hug hadn’t faded. Dillon followed suit and quickly splashed in the water after Scott. It was surprisingly warm, but cool enough to be refreshing. The pond bottom squished between his toes and felt odd, not like the concrete of a swimming pool. But there was a pleasant naturalness to it he liked.
Scott laughed and splashed water at him. Dillon splashed him back. He felt freer than he could ever remember as the moon lit them and the water flowed around them.
“This is something else I wish we could do every day.” Dillon flung more water at Scott.
“Yeah, I do too.” Scott dove under the water and disappeared.
Dillon looked around. The water was about chest high, but it was dark, and he couldn’t see Scott. Something brushed his legs. He stumbled backward and fell. The water closed over his head and for a second he panicked, struggling to get to his feet so he could breathe again. A bit of the pond water flowed down his throat. He came up sputtering.
Scott reached out for him. “Dillon, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”
Wiping a hand over his face to get the water off him, Dillon wanted to glare at Scott but couldn’t. Scott was just trying to help him relax and feel good. He was doing a good job too. “I’m okay.” Dillon took a long slow breath. “Just swallowed a bit of pond water.” He added a playful tone to his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you back sometime.”
Laughing, Scott hugged him again. “I’ll try and watch out for that.”
Something inside Dillon stirred as their wet bodies pressed together. He’d never felt as good as he did standing there hugging Scott. His pulse quickened. He let go of Scott and scooped up water to splash between them. Uncertain of the strange and wonderful sensations inside him, Dillon wondered what Scott wanted from him. I don’t know if I really care
as long as I can keep feeling like this.
They splashed in the water until Dillon gave a huge yawn. The moon had moved from the center of the pond to the western edge. Dillon waded out of the pond and sat down on the stone bench. Most of the heat it had held earlier was gone. He shivered. “I guess you didn’t bring any towels?”
Scott came out of the water. In the moonlight his body glistened with water. It was fairly obvious he worked out; he had a well-defined chest and abs. For a second Dillon’s gaze drifted lower, but then he jerked his eyes up to Scott’s beaming face.
“Nope, no towels. That’s part of the fun of skinny-dipping. Drying off afterward. But you look tired. I guess it’s going to be squishy shoes.”
Dillon frowned. That was something he hadn’t thought about. He hated wet shoes, but the ground was too rough and uneven for him to even think about going barefoot back to Uncle Bryan’s house. “Oh well, we’ll just have to remember next time to bring a towel or two.”
The moonlight caught the twinkle in Scott’s eyes. “Next time. So you want to do this again?”
“If we have the opportunity, sure.” Dillon pulled on his jeans. “You didn’t say how long these folks were going to be out of town. I don’t know if we’ll have time.”
“I’ll check with Alex, he’ll know.” Scott sounded as happy as Dillon felt.
They walked back to Uncle Bryan’s, and before Dillon slipped back through the window, they hugged again. Then Scott disappeared into the moonlit night. Dillon stood at the window and watched him fade away into the darkness just before he reached the road. After a day of ups and downs, this had been the perfect way to end it. And although he hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about sex one way or the other, hugging Scott certainly felt nice. What does all this mean?
12
HIS DREAMS had been filled with naked frolicking in the pond. Scott figured prominently for most of them, but Dillon was confused by Robbie’s appearance as a lifeguard demanding to know why they were naked in his pool. When the pond turned into the city pool Robbie worked at, things got weird with people running around, pointing and screaming at them until Scott grabbed Dillon’s hand and ran off into the woods, which had been at the edge of the pool. Once they’d been in the woods, they’d laughed about the other people’s reactions and hugged.
