Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/327

 "Just another frog, Gay."

"Phew … guess you know I'm a baby too." He let go of the shoulders.

"You're not … I'd be scared too in a strange place, but I don't think nothing could scare me here."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Gaylord wished the hands around his waist would draw him close, but they just stayed there. For Gaylord everything seemed to stop. He heard a bird's shrill cry in the tree overhead. It sounded to him like a cry of a male in search for a mate. He felt that old urge returning and dug his toes deep into the sandy bottom of the creek. Then all of a sudden, for a quick second, his hands came up to Rogers' face and he patted the wet cheeks. Then he broke away quickly and yelled … "I'll race you back," and with a swift lunge he was on his way. "Glenn doesn't feel the way I do," he thought, swimming through the water. "He doesn't know … he probably thinks I'm a funny guy …"

They lay together on a bank of soft white sand, lay naked, and let the breeze blow over them. It was a little breeze, swishing through the tall trees, rustling the leaves of the creek bushes. There was the sound of frogs and every now and then a quick splash of water. And there were wild roses blossoming around them. You could smell them in the breeze. They lay on their bellies and used their arms for a pillow. After a while, Gaylord raised his head from his arms and looked at Rogers, who grinned back at him. Gaylord said, "It's good just to lay here … I feel so relaxed after swimming …" He stretched his legs out full length and dug his toes into the sand. Gosh, the warm sand felt good next to his naked body. So soft and warm.

Rogers agreed and raised his head. He rested on his elbows. He was content here in his haven. There was nothing to worry about here. No fences to fix … no cows … no nothing. He picked up a twig and pulled it through the sand, drawing nothing, writing nothing. Gaylord raised on his elbows too and watched.

"Let's come back here again … Glenn … real soon."

"You just name the day." 317