Page 64 of Something Like Hail

“It was a phase. A verybrief phase. Anyway, Mr. Snickers and I didn’t make it very long.Not only was I getting sick of being bit by fire ants—“

“Those suckers are mean!Horny toads really eat them?”

“Yes, and the originalcolony didn’t appreciate being uprooted and moved. They left. Tokeep Mr. Snickers fed, I had to dig up more for him, which wasalways a painful experience. As it turns out, I wasn’t the only oneinto digging.”

Harold tore his eyes from the road to glanceover. “Mr. Snickers made a break for it?”

Noah “Yup. Showed up at the barn one morningand found a hole. It matched the one in my heart.”

“Awww!”

“This is the part whenpeople usually start crying,” Noah informed him helpfully, “but Isuppose you can be forgiven since you’re driving. In a way, Isuppose you could say that Mr. Snickers was my first relationship.I swept him off his feet, got burnt in the process, and I was neverquite the same again.”

“Can’t stand horny toadsnow?”

“No, they still fascinateme, but I never had another pet. Not since Mr. Snickers. I’m tooheartbroken. Of course I found out later that horny toads only eatnormal ants, and that they need sunshine every day. I’m lucky Ididn’t kill the poor thing. So in retrospect, I wasn’t a very goodboyfriend. Er… Pet owner.”

Harold laughed, which was great. Not quiteas nice as him reaching over to take Noah’s hand, or him leaningover to sneak a quick kiss. Neither of these things happened. Infact, since last night, it seemed they were back to being friends.Or maybe not. Harold didn’t talk about his romantic history verymuch, but after some prying, he mentioned a guy named Calvin.Another escort, and when Noah asked if that had made it easier orharder to be together, Harold’s response revealed one crucialdetail.

“I never had to explainthings to him,” he said. “Some guys I’ve been with get upset whenthe relationship isn’t very physical. They think it means I don’tlike them, when really it feels too much like work. We give so muchto these guys that it doesn’t— Sex is still special when it’s withsomeone you love, but you find other ways of expressing how youfeel. Like how I used to hand-feed him. Usually just some fries orwhatever, but nobody else did that, so in a weird way it feltspecial. You know?”

Noah could imagine. When they did stop forfast food, he was tempted to try doing the same, just to showHarold how he felt, but he knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Theywould have to invent some other affectionate gesture of their own,but for now, he was okay with Harold’s lack of physical contact. Itdidn’t mean that these steadily growing feelings belonged to Noahalone. They could be falling for each other simultaneously, butmere kisses and touches wouldn’t be what revealed it. What formtheir feelings would take remained a mystery, but Noah was lookingforward to finding out.

His optimism was shaken just outside of FortStockton. The landscape here was bleak and brown. No mountainsfilled the horizon with symbolic zeniths. The ground here was flat,the soil unyielding. Grass grew during the wetter seasons butrarely stuck around, and the trees that managed to take root werespindly and short. Noah had once heard the town described as aliving museum to the frontier lifestyle. He could understand whysomeone would take an interest in history, but few longed to sufferthe harshness of those frontier days.

“You said it was small,”Harold remarked, “but I didn’t realize how small.”

“Well, you grew up inAustin,” Noah said. “I’m still baffled by how big it is there, howyou can keep walking for hours and not reach the edge of the city.That’s not how it is here. I bet you could walk up and down everystreet in a day and still be home in time for supper.”

“Maybe it’s grown sincethen. I keep seeing hotels.”

The hotels were almost the only businessesthat appeared modern and maintained. “People stay here on their wayback from Big Bend. Or on the way to somewhere more interesting. Iused to think it was fun to walk the parking lot and see how manyout-of-state license plates I could find. I even kept track. Neverfound Alaska or Hawaii though.”

Harold brought the car to a halt at astoplight and looked over at him. “Are you sure you aren’t acomedian?”

“I’m dead serious. I’m suremy parents still have the journal, assuming they haven’t burnt allmy things in a bonfire.”

“Speaking of which, whereexactly are we going?”

Noah gave directions, feeling a mix ofnostalgia and dread as they neared the house where he grew up.Despite the dreary surroundings, part of him was excited to beback. Maybe they could check into one of the hotels instead ofvisiting his parents. They could even slowly drive by the farm. Noneed to stop and talk to anyone. And yet, Noah had to admit that hemissed his family. They weren’t so bad. At least, not before theissue of his sexuality came to light. Before then they were strict,sure, but they had taken care of him and tried to guide him towarda good life. Look where he had gotten without them: years spent onthe street and a job that most people would turn up their nosesat.

“Maybe this isn’t a goodidea.”

“Maybe you’re justnervous,” Harold said. “This way still?”

Noah nodded. After they turned south, thetown came to an abrupt end. Before long, all they could see wasdirt and empty sky, like they had been dropped into some dystopiansetting where humanity was only hanging on by a thread.

“Slow down,” Noah said,even though they weren’t going fast. Then he noticed the road thatlead to the farm. “Turn here. This is it.”

If Harold was expecting lush green fieldsfull of crops, or idyllic barns full of happy pigs and sheep, hewas in for disappointment. The land his parents owned was dominatedby massive tanks that spawned fish. The rest was fenced off forcattle to graze on, although the land only supported a few. That hecouldn’t see any now implied that his father had finally made theswitch to mule deer, or had implemented some other scheme. If hisparents still lived here. They could have moved sometime in thepast six years. As they pulled down the drive and the ranch-stylehouse came into view, he knew that his family was still right wherehe had left them.

“Nice place!” Harold saidoptimistically.

The house, like so many in Fort Stockton,was worn down from too much wind, dust, and sun. He knew theinterior would be fine. His mother always took care of the house.His father’s domain was the surrounding land. Good ol’ fashionedroles and values. Yuck. “That was fun,” Noah said. “Now turn thecar around.”

Harold braked and looked over. “You don’treally want to leave. Do you?”

“No,” Noah admitted. Hewanted to see his family too much. “Park over there by theshed.”