A Surplus of Light

by Chase Connor

  “I’ll be back,” I whispered to him.

  “I’m not leaving.” He said.

  “Is that a promise?” I bit at my lower lip with a smile.

  “I’d promise you the moon and then find a way to deliver, Ian.” He opened his eyes to stare at me.

  I nodded.

  Mike laid back on the creek bed as I stood, still naked as the day I was born, and shimmied down into the creek again. I stood there for a moment, letting my eyes drift up and down his naked body, taking him in as he seemed to glow beneath the wakening daylight. Happiness welled up inside of me, as though coming up through the Earth, through my legs, seeking out my chest. I waded out into the middle of the creek and looked up at the lightening sky, then laid back until I was floating. My legs went out straight and I held my arms out, floating perpendicular to my body. And I asked God for a talk. Not just a talk—but also a response. And for the first time since I’d come to talk to God at the creek—Mike’s and my creek—God answered.

  It was time to end this friendship.

  Chapter 11

  Mike

  4 Years Later

  I sat on the bank of the creek. High school students still had a week to go before school let out for summer. I was going to turn twenty-three soon. Time had flown by, but things remained the same there in my tiny little podunk Texas town. Though, for the most part, it hadn’t been my town for four years. Austin had been my town. That’s where the University of Texas is located, and that’s where I went to college. So, that had been my home for the better part of those four years. I only got to come home during the summers. There was no reason to come home for Christmas or spring break. My life was in Austin.

  Seeing my creek—mine and Ian’s creek—made my eyes water and my chest puff up with emotion. This might be the very last time that I laid eyes on our creek. The creek was all that remained of our friendship. It was the one place I could go and remember the last time that we had been friends. The summers we had spent obsessed with each other. The night and morning we had spent wrapped up in each other. Sharing our bodies with each other, right here on this creek bed. Before Ian had waded out of the creek, dripping wet, completely naked, a look on his face that I had never seen before.

  I don’t want us to be friends anymore, Mike.

  That’s what he had said when he came to stand at my feet and looked down at my naked body. My eyes had shot open to look up at him. The sun had risen enough that it was behind his head, casting him in a halo, making his face dark and unreadable. It was the worst moment of my life. I’d had bad moments in my life before that morning—but those words broke my heart in a way that nothing else ever had. I knew it had been coming—but I hadn’t prepared myself for it—wanting to believe that things would turn out okay. Those words, coming from the best friend I’d ever had until that moment, shattered me to the core.

  Now I sat there on that creek bank, where I had first asked Ian to be my friend. He had said yes. The creek bank where he saw me for the first time, memorized my face and body and sketched me from memory. The creek bank where he taught me so many things about life. The creek bank where we crawled out, soaking wet, our mouths trying to devour each other. Where we made love under the Full Strawberry Moon. The creek bank where I could still feel everything I had loved about my friendship with Ian.

  Ian Chambers.

  Ian Chambers.

  Ian Chambers.

  That was his whole name.

  Ian Chambers.

  Righter of wrongs. Protector of the weak.

  Brave.

  Selfless.

  Tough.

  Kissable lips.

  The reason why God made the days of summer so long. Provided so much light. So that we could see each other clearly. I looked down, tears falling from my eyes as I thought of Ian. Thought about how I may never see this creek again. How I could never hold Ian’s hands, look up and watch the bats hunt for their dinner. Hold hands and take in the full moon. Hold his hands and tell him that I loved him. That would never happen in this creek again.

  And I had to be okay with that.

  There was nothing that could be done.

  I had made my promises, too.

  And, like Ian, I was a man of my word.

  “I got the car packed.”

  I smiled at the voice, my eyes closing languidly.

  “Are you sleeping?”

  Laughter.

  The most wonderful laughter in the world.

  “No,” I responded, my eyes fluttering open as I turned my head. “I was just trying to memorize everything about our creek.”

  Ian looked down at me. He had been ready to go. He’d been waiting for four years, after all.

  “We can stay a little longer.” He sat down beside me, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “Law school isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Columbia’s been waiting for four years.” I tilted my body to lay my head against his shoulder. “If you blow them off for law school, too, they’ll never readmit you.”

  “We’ll get Principal Morton to pull more strings.” Ian laughed.

  “You were lucky with U of T, babe.” I laughed with him. “I don’t think he has any ‘strings’ at Columbia.”

  He turned his head to give me a soft kiss and a smile.

  “I’ll miss our creek, too.” He said softly.

  I nodded, turning my head back to look at the creek again. The crystal-clear water bathed in the early morning light. Just like it had been on the morning Ian walked out of the creek naked and told me he didn’t want to be my friend anymore. That that wasn’t good enough. He wanted to be my everything. And he wanted me to be the same for him. He wanted to give himself over to me completely. And nothing else mattered as much as that. Not even Columbia.

  My shattered heart came back together, larger and healthier than it had been before. Sometimes…sometimes…being broken and put back together makes a person stronger and happier than ever. It was true for my heart—and it had been true for Ian. Four years of being with him in Austin, going to classes at the University of Texas with him, where I never had a chance of keeping up with him academically, going to bed with him each night—when we slept—and waking up, wrapped in his arms, every morning. All of it had been more than my heart could hold. But I refused to let go of any of it. Every bit of Ian, everything that we’d done together, that we would do together, would stay there until my heart was no longer. I promised myself that.

  Ian had taught me to keep promises.

  “Did you stop at the store?” I asked, my lips against his shoulder.

  “Not yet.” He said. “I thought you might want to come along.”

  “Is he still there?” I chuckled.

  “Well, not for long,” Ian replied. “He graduated, too. So, he’ll be getting a better job soon, I’m sure.”

  I looked at the creek.

  “You couldn’t just enroll at U of T law school?” I teased.

  “You gave me four years of high school.” He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. “I gave you four of college. Now, I get three for law school.”

  “Do I get three after that?” I wiggled my eyebrows.

  “Only if you use them well.” He laughed.

  “Oh, I can think of a few ways to use them.”

  “Come on, you horny bastard.” Ian stood, holding his hand out to me. “But, I guess, if you give me three years for law school, I can give you three years of uninterrupted, unbridled, passionate sex.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like you aren’t dying to.”

  Ian pulled me in roughly and shoved his mouth over mine. And, for the last time, we kissed each other on the bank of our creek. When we parted, Ian laced his fingers through mine and pulled me towards the woods. We walked through the woods together, stopping every few yards to kiss each other. When we made our way out of the woods, we jumped into my car, buckled our seatbelts, then looked at each other and took a deep breath.

  “Store?”


  “Store.” I nodded.

  Ian drove us to the store and we got back out of the car. Hand in hand, in that piece of shit Texas town, we walked into the store. Two gay men, who had loved each other for eight years, no longer caring what the jerks in the town thought of…anything.

  “Luh-look at you assholes.” I smiled at the voice.

  Kevin was standing behind the register, his arms folded over his chest.

  “Who are you calling an asshole, douchebag?” I smiled back at him.

  Kevin just smiled at us, the two of us holding hands not a surprise to him at all. He had seen us numerous times over the last four years. Kevin knew that Ian and I had never been friends. We’d always been so much more.

  “Is it tuh-time already?” Kevin’s smile turned sad.

  “It’s time, man.” I nodded slowly.

  “I’ll muh-miss you guh-guys.” He came from around the register.

  He pulled me into a hug, then Ian. Unlike the other assholes in town, he didn’t give a shit that we were gay. We were his friends. The best friends that he had ever had. And in turn, he had been one of the best friends to us. Ian grabbed Kevin’s face in his hands and looked him in the eyes.

  “I’m going to miss you, man.” Ian’s eyes were watery.

  “It’s nuh-not too hard to buh-buy a plane ticket to New York.” Kevin smiled. “Or to tuh-Texas.”

  “You’ll always have a place on our couch, Kevin,” I spoke for the two of us.

  “Same huh-here.” He hugged both of us again.

  I left Ian to talk to Kevin as I grabbed the things that we needed. Luckily, the store was empty, so Kevin and Ian’s conversation wasn’t interrupted until I came back to the register, my cart loaded up. Kevin checked us out as he and Ian continued talking. Finally, we were checked out and all of our groceries bagged up. And it was time to go. Kevin did his best to smile—but it wasn’t his best effort. When Ian and I headed for the door, Ian looked just as torn. But Columbia was waiting after all.

  “Will you tell your brother I said ‘hi’?” Ian asked with an evil grin.

  “Just to puh-piss him off, muh-man.” Kevin grinned back.

  “We’ll see you soon. Right?” Ian’s eyes were leaking.

  “You cuh-couldn’t keep me away.” Kevin smiled widely.

  So, we left. We packed up the car with the bags of groceries, got back into our seats, buckled our belts, and Ian’s head turned to me. He grabbed my hand nervously and squeezed it.

  “Do you…do you think it’ll be okay?” He looked down, unsure of himself for once. “I’m nervous.”

  “I’ll be there.” I squeezed his hand back. “And whatever happens, happens.”

  He watched me for a moment, then nodded once. Ian started the car and we began the drive across town. We drove down backroad after backroad, over bumpy, pothole-riddled roads, until finally, we pulled up in front of the dinky little shack in the woods. Ian let out a shaky breath, so I reached over and gave his hand another squeeze.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  We got out, each of us taking three bags apiece, and headed towards the porch. When we walked up the steps, the door opened before we could get up onto the porch. Carson looked the same…but with a beard. His eyes looked confused at first, then there was that moment of recognition. Ian froze. I looked at the love of my life, then at Carson.

  “What are you doing here?” Carson asked, his eyes suddenly on his feet.

  Ian looked down at his feet, too.

  I waited, but they both just looked at their feet and stayed silent.

  “We’re going to New York,” I spoke finally. “Columbia. Ian’s going to law school.”

  I knew that Ian had been coming to bring groceries to Carson’s house during school breaks. He couldn’t do it as often as he had wanted, but he still brought them when he could. He wouldn’t be able to anymore.

  “You always were so damn smart, man,” Carson said, but his eyes stayed down. “As smart as you were tough.”

  “Not as tough as you, man,” Ian replied, his eyes staying down as well. “You’re a tough son of a bitch.”

  Carson looked up, his eyes red.

  “Thank you,” Carson said.

  They were both silent again.

  “We wanted to bring you these,” I said, jiggling the bags lightly in my arms. “Thought you might not have a lot of time to get to the store.”

  Carson looked over at me, as though he had forgotten I was there, then looked down again.

  “Kevin’s still around,” I said evenly. “He said that he’d be happy to go to the store for you if you wanted some help.”

  Carson looked up, his eyes leaking now, too.

  “He’s a really good cook.” I continued. “And he’s not afraid of some yard work…if you ever needed help getting stuff done.”

  “He’d do that?” Carson whispered down at the porch.

  Ian was still holding the bags, looking down.

  “All you have to do is call him.” I nodded. “He’s also exceptionally good at being a friend. Best one I ever had, besides Ian.”

  When Kevin had found out about Carson from me, during our freshman year at U of T, he didn’t say “good” or “serves him right” or anything you’d expect. He’d only said: “is there anything I can do to help?” I had told him that if anything came up, I’d let him know. When I told him that Carson might need someone for support now that Ian wouldn’t be dropping things off periodically, he said he’d be happy to help him. Kevin was a good guy. And, underneath everything, so was Carson. They could probably be really good friends.

  “I’d like that.” Carson looked up, clearing his throat.

  “I’ll give you his number.” I smiled. “So…can we carry these in for you?”

  Carson seemed to choke a little, then gave a nod. And the three of us carried the groceries into the house. Ian was silent as he helped unpack the groceries, but I did my best to keep a conversation going as Carson helped me figure out where each item went. When we were done putting up the groceries, Carson said his father was napping, so he had time if we wanted something to drink. We all had coffee out on the porch, where Ian stayed silent, barely looking up as I did my best to have a conversation with Carson.

  Then it became apparent that it was time for us to leave and get on the road. I reminded Carson that Kevin was in the area still if he ever needed help or an ear. I gave him Kevin’s number and gave him ours too, just in case he thought we could help him in any way. I gave him a quick handshake and headed towards the car after saying my “goodbyes”. Carson held a hand out to Ian. Ian looked at him for a minute, then pulled Carson into a hug. It took a moment since Carson was so shocked, but he returned the hug. They still didn’t say anything, but when they ended the hug, they looked at each other for a long time, still holding onto each other. Carson gave Ian a nod and a small smile and Ian returned the gesture.

  Ian and I got in the car and waved back to Carson before turning the car around and driving away from the shack in the woods. When we got on the highway, the early afternoon sun was beating down on us as we drove away from a place we never intended to return to—at least, not permanently. But, where there are friends, there’s always a place to visit.

  “I love you.” Ian reached over to take my hand while the other steered the car. “I really love you, Mike.”

  “How long have you loved me?” I smirked at him.

  “Since that time you saw the squirrel and worried that it was dead.” He smiled widely. “Since I saw your heart.”

  “When didn’t you love me?” I asked.

  “When I didn’t know you existed.” He replied. “Once I knew you existed, there wasn’t a time that I didn’t love you.”

  I smiled at him.

  “I’ve loved you since I first saw the light of the sun, felt its warmth,” I replied. “Because I knew that it was telling me that you were coming.”

  Ian pulled my hand up
to his mouth and kissed the back of it. And we drove away from that podunk town in Texas, on our way to a better life. A life where there would never be long months of cold and dark and loneliness, with only the light of summer to make everything better. Every day would be light and warm. Every day would be ours.

  The following is a short story that first appeared in ‘Four Short Stories from the Books of Chase Connor’ – which is no longer in print. It tells the story of Ian and Mike’s first meeting at the tree by the creek—but from Ian’s perspective. Hopefully, you will enjoy it.

  Tremendous Love & Thanks,

  Chase

  Squirrels generally do not make great models. They move a lot. They’re nervous little balls of anxiety, always hyper-aware and paranoid. But, as I was sitting against the tree by the creek, my sketchpad laid against my knees, wondering what I should sketch, a squirrel sauntered up lazily and threw himself down on the large, flat rock at the creek’s edge. He looked like he had fallen in the creek and had struggled to extricate himself. He was tuckered out. He just wanted to sun himself. His head had lolled to the side when he first laid down and he eyed me for a moment. After a few moments, he decided that I was not going to bother him, so he went to sleep. I started to sketch.

  Trees were usually my favorite subject because they’re not known for moving around much, are they? Other plants, flowers, landscapes, they were pretty good for sketching for the same reason. Sometimes, I’d get lucky and one of the kids at the creek would sit still long enough that I could sketch them quickly. But those sketches were never that great because the kids never stayed still long enough for a real sketch to be done. Except for the kid with the sandy blonde hair and mossy green eyes and the beginnings of freckles along his nose. Michael Steedman.

  That was his name.

  I had asked Kevin when I ran into him at the creek once.

  Kevin knew everyone and everyone knew Kevin, though he didn’t really have many friends. He wanted to be my friend, but…but that just wasn’t a great idea. If Kevin was going to make one friend, it was best if it wasn’t me. Too much baggage there. No reason to put another target on Kevin’s back. He got heckled for his stutter and being scrawny enough. He didn’t need his friendship with a bad kid to be another reason that he got bullied. Of course, no one bullied Kevin much anymore. And I doubted that his most persistent bully, Carson, was going to bother him much anymore, either. At least not as frequently. Carson had probably learned his lesson when I had hit him.