CROSS (A Gentry Boys Novella) (3 page)

“Here,” I called and held my arm out, relaxing with a sigh when his hand found mine.   A few dozen yards away other Emblem teenagers, people I’d known my whole life, howled like wolves and collided.  They would be pairing off now.  Stone was probably already leading Courtney, or whoever his nightly choice was, to the nearest backseat.  It didn’t bother me.  As Conway’s arms circled me I gratefully buried my face in his strong chest as he started absently stroking my hair. 

“Why were you all the way over here alone?”  He kissed the top of my head. 

“I’m not alone now.”  I spread my palms across his broad back, running my hands up and down, then lower.  I both heard and felt his sharp intake of breath as I sank to my knees in the gritty sand, pulling him down there with me.  Immediately his hand was under my shirt and we were kissing with eager hunger. 

“Erin,” he groaned as I straddled him.   

“Yes.” I kissed his neck, lightly, teasingly, the way he liked it.  “I’m ready, I swear.” 

“You sure?” he whispered.   His hand traveled higher, unhooking my bra.  I pulled at the soft cotton of his t-shirt until my hands found the muscled skin beneath. 

“I’m sure.” 

All at once we were were rolling around in the sand.  A rock dug into my back and something alive hissed in the brush, scrabbling around, unhappy about being disturbed.  It wasn’t the ideal place to be intimate but I didn’t care.  I needed him to be closer.  I needed it so badly I could hardly breathe.  And Con was in a fire of passion, hands everywhere, even more intense than usual.  Tomorrow we could blame the strange darkness for taking this moment that we’d been waiting for forever. 

But tonight we just needed to use each other.  So we would. 

He unzipped his pants.  I helped him.  He groaned. 

And then with a gasp of brilliance the lights of Emblem resumed. 

Main Street became unbearably vivid.  The neighborhoods that had melted into the darkness unseen spread their wings in every direction.   It was like watching a sleeping giant roar awake.  Conway and I stopped what we were doing and looked out at our hometown while our friends applauded the return of electricity.  Someone threw or dropped a bottle.  The crash of glass was loud, so terribly loud. 

“Stone!” whined a female voice. 

“Hey Gentry,” hissed someone else, “you’re gonna fucking pay for that.  Fuck.  My last forty.” 

Conway had twisted his head around at the sound of his brother’s name.  It was true that he and Stone never missed an opportunity to knock each other over.  But it was also true that if anyone dared to mess with one he’d have to have to face the wrath of the other.  If Conway even got a whiff of anything like trouble he’d go barreling into the darkness ready to defend his brother.   No matter what, the Gentry boys were a team. Everyone knew it. 

I didn’t hear Stone’s response, if there even was one.   Conway relaxed.  He pulled me into his lap as I finished re-hooking my bra.  His strong and steady heartbeat pulsed against my back and I matched my breathing to his.  I closed my eyes as he held me close, saying nothing, doing nothing, while the imprint of the town’s garish lights disappeared behind my eyelids.   We wouldn’t go any further tonight.  We would hold each other until the clock demanded that we stop.

Until then there was just this.  And this was enough. 

CONWAY

One afternoon this past spring Mr. Carson caught me and Stone swiping cigarettes from the glove compartment of an empty Ford truck parked behind his garage.  We’d done it before.  We would huddle behind the dumpster and wait for the mechanics to park in the lot behind the garage when they ran out of room inside.  At night they moved everything indoors and locked up but they were more careless in daylight.  We’d never found anything valuable and I’m not sure we would have taken it if we had.  Small bills, loose change, cigarettes and once a yellowed, old fashioned map of the state of Arizona that appealed to Stone for some reason. 

Stone had a pack of Marlboros clutched in his palm and I was still ducking out of the front seat when Mr. Carson happened to waddle outside to the scene of the crime.  But instead of wearing us out and calling his goons to herd us out of there he scratched the back of his mottled neck and said, “If you boys want to hang around here so bad, why don’t you throw on a jumpsuit and learn a thing or two?”

Mr. Carson was the kind of guy who didn’t say something if he didn’t mean it.  Stone wasn’t interested though.  He was busy making some change in a numbers game he’d started some months back.  But I’d always been fascinated by how things were put together, what made them tick.  I was glad to have the chance to find out.  Mostly I swept the garage and kept the equipment clean but lately Mr. Carson had been letting me in on some oil changes and brake jobs.  I liked it, working with my hands, the powerful pride that came from being useful.  It came along with a hunger to learn more, to do more. 

Erin always gave me a hard time for not stepping up in the classroom.  She said I had no excuse because I was far from stupid.  She was right. I always did well in math, really well.  Years ago when we were still something like a normal family, the school would call my parents down once a year to talk about how high my scores were on these tests the state always required. My mother would yell at me for not ‘living up to my potential’ but then she’d kind of forget about it.  My dad was different though.  He’d slip me a ten dollar bill when no one was looking and tell me how proud he was. 

Not my dad.  Elijah. 

I shouldn’t think that way. I knew damn well Elijah Gentry had been my father in every way that counted.  My mother didn’t answer questions and really I wasn’t even sure who my father was supposed to be.  Some of the gossip pointed to his cousins, Benton and Chrome Gentry, but I didn’t know whether to take that seriously.  Chrome was dead and nobody in their right minds would want that violent sack of shit Benton as a father.  They’d had sons of their own, cousins I remembered vividly, especially Deck.  He was like a celebrity, riding around town all full of cool tattoos and danger.  But along with the infamous triplets, he’d made his Emblem exit a while back and didn’t come around much.  I wished he would.  I would have liked to ask him a few things. 

“Quit daydreaming.”  A steel-toed boot nudged me but the voice was not unfriendly.  It was Booster, one of Carson’s mechanics. He’d allowed me to roll under the belly of an ancient Bronco for an oil change. 

I finished up, double checking to make sure everything was tight and good to go.  Booster was grinning at me when I rolled out from under the vehicle.  Since he was missing a few prominent teeth the result wasn’t too pretty.  Booster wagged a finger and clucked like an old grandmother.

“You ain’t being paid to hang out and think about girls.” 

I wiped a greasy palm on the front of my jumpsuit and accepted the hand that offered to yank me to my feet. 

“I wasn’t,” I argued, “thinking about girls.” 

Booster bobbed his head.  “Just one girl, eh?”

I cracked a grin.  “The best one.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, and tossed me an oily rag to wipe my hands with. 

Even when my thoughts weren’t about her specifically, Erin was always on my mind.  And I wasn’t just bragging.  She really
was
the best.  She was beautiful and smart and so damn sexy it burned me up.  I didn’t like a day to go by without seeing her and I was proud to walk around with her at my side.  Sometimes she would get kind of quiet, almost sad, and when that happened I didn’t know what she was thinking, but that was fine.  I knew she loved me like crazy and she didn’t need to tell me every thought that crossed her mind.  I was lucky.  How many guys get to really fall for the perfect girl next door? It’s like a sappy fairy tale or one of those Woman’s Network movies that my mom’s always weeping over. 

Since I was only supposed to work until four and it was already a quarter after, I started cleaning up.  When I got to my phone there were was a text from Stone, all full of profanity and telling me to get my ass home so we could go have some fun.  Erin on the other hand sent a love message full of hearts and ‘miss you’ promises, asking when I was going to pick her up. Both messages made me smile, for different reasons. 

The smile faded a little when I remembered that Erin’s obnoxious friend Roe was still in town.  She’d been okay back when she lived in Emblem, maybe a shade on the stuck-up side but nothing too annoying.  But ever since her dad had struck it rich and moved the family up to some glittering palace in north Scottsdale, she strutted around with a my-shit-don’t-stink kind of attitude, muttering in some fancy private school French about who the fuck knew what.  I got it; the girl thought her money and her looks made her too good to breathe the air in some gritty small town.  But even worse was the way she’d decided Erin was too good for it too.   More to the point, it seemed she figured Erin was too good for me. 

But I’d promised Erin I’d be nice and so far I had been.  I didn’t want to give Erin any reason to be uptight so I wouldn’t be telling the snotty best friend to go to sit on a stiff one and rotate. Anyway, she must have given Roe the same warning because last night when we were all hanging out down by the canal Roe stuck quietly by Erin’s side and didn’t give anyone any shit.  I told Stone that he ought to make it a mission to keep the damn girl busy until she piloted her Prius back to fucking Scottsdale but Roe steadily ignored him until he got bored and wandered off to score some action from Courtney Galicki. 

Dario, one of the other mechanics, was heading toward my neighborhood so he gave me a ride.  It wasn’t far, only about a mile, but in this hellacious heat I was always happy to have a way to stay out of the sun.  Dario blasted heavy metal music for the quick ride and gave me a friendly wave when he paused in front of my house. 

Sure enough, Roe’s silver Prius was still parked next door.  At least she was supposed to leave tonight.  Maybe she wouldn’t find her way back down here for a while. It was bad enough I had to deal with Erin and Stone rolling their eyes at each other every five minutes.   The last thing I wanted was even more tension added into the mix. 

I was all greasy and dusty from spending the day at the garage so I decided to go home and shower before heading over to Erin’s.  My mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway but the front door was unlocked.  I searched around the kitchen for some food but the pickings were slim.  The cheese was moldy, the milk carton was empty and a lonely box of corn flakes had expired nine months ago.  There was a fresh carton of eggs in the fridge but I wasn’t desperate enough to eat them raw, or to turn on the stove.  I finally stuffed a piece of white bread in my mouth because it was better than nothing. 

My back was to the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room.  That was why I was caught off guard when an elephant tackled me. 

“Stone!  Shit, get the fuck off.” 

We collided with the fridge and I reared back to try and dislodge my brother, who’d hopped on like he was expecting a fucking piggyback ride.  Stone had been working out hard these past six months and I felt every pound of his obnoxious muscles.  I could hold my own though.  I gritted my teeth and elbowed his six pack until he fell off. 

When I whirled around Stone was there shirtless and grinning, already back on his feet. 

“About time you showed up,” he announced before opening the fridge and removing the block of cheese I’d rejected a moment ago. 

“Some of us work,” I said pointedly. 

He tossed the cheese from one hand to another.  “I work.” 

“Hustling isn’t working.” 

He stopped tossing the cheese and threw me a look.  “You come by that little slice of piety from Mom or from Erin?”

I ignored the question.  “You’re not gonna eat that.” 

“Sure I am.”

“Bad idea.” 

He held the cheese up, considering.  “Why?”

“It’s got more mold than the Gnome’s toe jam.” 

Stone cracked up.  The Gnome was once the mayor of Emblem and he was one of many local jokes.   Stone tossed the decrepit cheese into the garbage pail. 

“Seems like a waste,” he clucked.  “There are starving people on Main Street.” 

“There are starving people in this kitchen.” 

My brother yawned and sank into a chair.  “Well damn it then.  Go get cleaned up and let’s hunt down some dinner.” 

I felt pretty good as I showered off.  It was Friday night and it was summer.  That right there was reason enough to feel good.  Hopefully late tonight I’d get some alone time with Erin.  I’d been aching extra hard ever since that night under the bridge, the night of the blackout when we’d
almost
given in.   After the lights blasted back on I was glad we hadn’t and I knew Erin was glad too.  But still, the ache was there. 

My good feeling went away a little when I returned to the kitchen and found my mother standing there with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.  It seemed like she got a little bit more unhappy every day.  She was unhappy with the messy house, she was unhappy with her job, she was unhappy with whatever shithead she was hooking up with at the Dirty Cactus and bringing home to bed.  But above all she was unhappy about putting up with us. 

She barely took a breath between declaring, “This place is disgusting,” and “Stonewall you haven’t done a damn thing today,” and “Conway I thought I told you to keep your distance from that sneaky little girl next door,” and “My god would you look at that yard,” and “Never thought I’d have two sons who acted like good-for-nothing Gentry trash,” and on and on and on. 

Stone gave me an eye roll and flapped his right hand a few times to mimic her running mouth.  She stopped mid-rant and glared at him but said nothing.  It was me she turned to next.  My mother crossed her arms and gave me a frank once over that dripped with contempt.  Even though Stone’s constant antics had a long history of giving her more heartburn, I was actually her least favorite.  We all knew it. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop smoking in my damn house?”

I glanced down at my empty hands.  “I’m not smoking in your damn house.” 

“Don’t lie to me.  I can even smell it in here now.” 

“That was me,” Stone declared cheerfully.  He linked his hands behind his neck, a bemused smile on his face.  “I’ve sitting in the living room all afternoon chain smoking and binge watching porn on pay-per-view.” 

My mother pretended he hadn’t spoken.  “I saw you, Con.” 

She was lying.  There was no point in jumping on that merry go round though.  She was forever plucking one thing or another out of thin air and deciding to get pissed about it.  She’d always had one of those hair trigger personalities, as easy to strike as a match, but she hadn’t always been this sour toward us.  Elijah’s slow slide toward death had exhausted her and left a mean-spirited shell that had little use for motherhood. 

“Sorry,” I told her even though I wasn’t because I hadn’t done anything. 

Her nostrils flared and her mouth puckered.  She was trying to come up with another bullet to fire.  Once again Stone spoke up. 

“I drank your last beer too,” he announced, propping his bare feet up on the kitchen table in a way that was bound to drive her nuts.  “And I broke the washing machine.”

That got her attention.  “You broke the washing machine?” 

“Yup.” 

“How?”

“I needed to clean a hammer.” 

She chewed her lip, probably trying to decide if he was serious or not.  With Stone, the answer was usually not, but tossing a hammer in the washing machine seemed like the kind of thing he might do just to be perverse. 

I stifled a laugh.  It didn’t quite work.  A sound like a gasping bird escaped my mouth and my mother refocused, glaring.  All at once though she seemed to grow tired of interacting with us.  She shouldered her purse and started to push past me out of the room. 

“What’s for dinner?” Stone called. 

“Get a job and buy your own dinner,” she snapped but she reached into her beach bag-sized purse, withdrew a twenty-dollar bill and slapped it on the table.  “Bleeding me dry,” she muttered. 

Stone grabbed the money and raised an eyebrow at me.  “Mom, can I please borrow your car?” he asked in a voice of pure innocence. 

“Don’t push me, Stone,” she grumbled.  She was already gone from the kitchen but then she suddenly doubled back and wagged a finger at me. 

“Let me tell you something, Conway.  You get that crazy little slut knocked up, don’t come crying to me to bail you out of it.”