Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/100

 Gaylord didn't answer but yielded to the powerful hand, slid over close.

"You're not by yourself, Bob."

"This is better though, isn't it?"

"Yes, Bob," he murmured after a long moment that seemed longer than it was. "I was lonesome too."

The hand rubbing his shoulder felt good. He pressed his cheek trustingly against the other's shoulder that rose and fell with breathing. His hands rested on his lap as they might rest on a pillow, and he realized that this was the answer to all his dreams. He closed his eyes from the soft gray light, exchanged it for a rosy hue. He wondered if this were really true. Wondered if he were really here.

"That's better," Blake's low voice said, "much better."

When Gaylord opened his eyes the haze across the sky had thickened, and the moon and stars themselves had vanished. They were alone, between two forests. There were no clearings here, no farms, no filling stations or houses. The civilization from which man came was far away, and those who ventured here were explorers or lovers, with only one thought … to be alone.

Watching the changing profile of the trees, Gaylord did not realize they had long since left the highway, that he was on a strange road. He only knew he had at last lost the world he had wished to lose so many times.

"Bob?" he finally asked.

"Huh?"

"What are you going to do when school's out?"

"Oh … I don't know … haven't given it much thought."

"Won't be long."

"That's right … sure won't. I should have finished last year, but I wanted to play ball another year."

"I love to watch you on the field … you seem so sure of yourself."

"I love football."

"I know you do."

"I'd rather play than eat."

"Scares me sometimes when so many jump on you."

"Don't hurt," the voice held amusement.