"Spring Break" 11
The lookout.
By Gaedhal
Part 11
The Fieldstone Inn, March 2005
After a mediocre lunch of overcooked burgers at the Red
Kettle Café in Wiley, Brian and Justin didn't return to the
Antique Market. Instead they decided to drive up into the
mountains and have a look around.
There were a number of places along the road that were
indicted on the map as 'Scenic Views,' but Brian was dubious.
"I don't need some bureaucrat from the Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania to tell me what view is 'scenic' and what
view isn't worth a look. I'm not an idiot, after all!"
"They're just letting us know where there are good places to
stop," Justin pointed out. "Otherwise we'd drive right by
them without knowing." Justin studied the map. "Go a little
further up this road and there's supposed to be a park. We
could get out and walk."
"I forgot my hiking boots," Brian returned. "And my Cub
Scout uniform."
"We don't have to go very far, Brian," said Justin. "I'd like
to see the view."
Brian turned in at the sign for the park, which was little
more than a glorified rest area. There was only a small
parking lot, rest rooms, a picnic table, and a sign board
with a map tacked onto it.
"I think I've tricked here," Brian commented as they got
out of the Vette. "Or somewhere that looked just like it off
the Pennsylvania Turnpike."
"Doesn't seem too busy," said Justin, noting the deserted
parking lot. He checked the map on the board. "If we walk
up the path a way there's a lookout. It says you can see
most of the valley from there."
Brian sighed melodramatically and shook his head.
Justin turned and gazed at Brian. His face was a mask of
disappointment.
"If you want to leave, Brian, then say so," said Justin,
dejectedly. "I thought this weekend was your idea. But it's
obvious that you hate everything about this place -- the
inn, the Antique Market, the town, the food, everything.
So why don't we go back to Pittsburgh? That way you can
be safe in your loft. And I can go back to Dartmouth a few
days early and stay in the dorm until Spring Term starts
on Tuesday. Okay?"
But Brian didn't answer. He was staring down at his Prada
boots and couldn't look Justin in the eye.
"I said it's okay if you want to leave," Justin repeated.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I heard you," said Brian, suddenly taking Justin by the
elbow. "Come on. Let's walk."
The gravel trail was just wide enough for two. They walked
in silence as the trail became steeper and the trees that had
pressed thickly on either side began to thin out. And then
they were at the end of the trail.
Justin could smell the difference in the air as they approached
the lookout. They were much higher than Justin had imagined
and the view was dizzying. A wooden fence arched around an
outcropping of flat stone that leaned over the valley far below.
"Wow!" Justin breathed. He moved forward for a better look.
"Justin! Be careful! Don't get too close to the edge," Brian
warned, clutching at Justin's arm. Brian wasn't afraid of
heights himself, but he also wasn't certain how safe this
area was. The wooden fence didn't look very secure and he
could see where some rocks from higher up the mountain
had slid down to the lookout during the harsh winter months.
"Are those the Appalachians?" Justin asked, pointing to the
dark range looming in the distance.
"I think so," said Brian. "We're only in the foothills. Those
are the real thing over there."
"When I was a kid a friend of my parents quit his job to
walk the Appalachian Trail," Justin said. "I remember my
dad telling my mom that the guy was crazy. But I thought it
was great, like a real adventure. To decide to do something
like that and then just do it. The trail starts up in New
England and ends somewhere way down South. It took him
a year to walk the whole thing."
"I think I'll pass on that stroll," said Brian, putting his arm
around Justin's shoulders. "Like I said, I forgot my hiking
boots." But it really was beautiful, Brian thought. And so quiet.
The loudest thing you could hear was the wind sweeping down
the valley. "Look! There's a hawk!" Brian pointed to a bird
soaring on the currents high above the lookout.
"It looks too big for a hawk," said Justin. "Maybe it's an eagle?
I wish we had binoculars so we could see it up close."
"Next time we'll have to come better prepared," said Brian.
Justin glanced up at Brian. "Next time?"
Brian shrugged. "You never know. I bet this place looks
pretty once all the trees get their leaves. And then in the
fall when the colors turn."
"I'm sorry I bitched at you in the parking lot," Justin said
softly. "I know you're having a terrible time and are only
doing all this stuff because... well, I'm not really sure why
you're doing it, actually. But I'm having a wonderful time,
Brian. I wanted you to know that. Even if we pack up and go
back tonight, it'll still be one of the best times I've ever
had in my life. And that's because we're together. That
makes it special."
Brian brushed his fingers across Justin's face. It was windy
and chilly at the lookout -- it was still March, after all --
but Brian felt a warmth moving through him. Like something
that had been frozen for a very long time was thawing deep
inside.
"No, Justin," Brian replied. "I was only having a momentary
queen out. I don't want to go home tonight. Besides, the room
is paid for through Monday morning. It's just that I feel like
I'm too far outside my comfort zone. I'm not used to all of
this. The country. The people. All this fucking nature. And
that big, ridiculous bed."
"I like that ridiculous bed, Brian," Justin informed him.
"And the fireplace. And the Antique Market."
"I know," Brian nodded. "That should really worry me."
But, strangely, it didn't worry Brian. He wasn't certain
why it didn't worry him. Brian was usually less than
tolerant of people's tastes that did not mirror his own.
Justin wrapped his arms Brian and leaned his head against
his chest. "Maybe you don't mind me so much, Brian. Maybe
you might even get used to having me around -- if you let
me stick around a while."
"I don't know, Justin," Brian replied. "But I don't think
it's my choice anymore. Something is going on. Something
that scares me."
Justin smiled. "I don't think you're afraid of anything,
Brian."
"No," said Brian. "Only everything that I can't control. And
that puts me in a tight little box. That's the way I've lived
my life -- hiding in that box. Do you know that my mother
still doesn't know I'm gay? And I only told my father when I
knew he was going to die."
Justin was surprised to hear that. Brian was the most out
person he had ever met in his life -- except maybe for
Emmett Honeycutt, who seemed to have been born out.
"Then you understand what's going on with me and my
father."
"Yes," said Brian. "I understand perfectly. That's why I've
never pushed you to do anything about it. I put on a good front,
but underneath I'm a fucking coward. I tell other people to come
clean, but I can't face my own goddamn mother and let her know
the truth. And I can't face the truth about myself. That I'm
fucking lonely and miserable a lot of the time. I say that I value
honesty over everything else, but if you can't be honest with
yourself...." Brian paused. There was a tightness in his throat.
"I'm trying. But it's difficult."
Justin slipped his hands under Brian's leather jacket and
rubbed his back through his sweater. He felt so strong. Brian's
body looked thin, but his arms were like iron and when he moved
Justin could see every muscle, like in a Greek statue. Being in
those arms made Justin feel safe. But it also gave Justin strength,
too. Justin knew that he couldn't hide behind Brian. Because Brian
was human, too. Vulnerable. That in many ways Justin was the
stronger one. More grounded. More certain of who he was and
who he wanted to be. While Brian, who seemed so confident and
fully-formed, was still searching for himself.
"It's getting late," said Brian. "Let's go back to the inn and get
cleaned up. We have reservations at one of those places on your
list of hot spots. Let's see what culinary delights the locals can
dish up."
"I'm ready," said Justin. "And next time we come up here we'll
bring the binoculars. So we can see all the way to the mountains."
Yes, thought Brian. I want to see as far as I can. See something
I've never seen before. Even if it's right beside me.
By Gaedhal
Part 11
The Fieldstone Inn, March 2005
After a mediocre lunch of overcooked burgers at the Red
Kettle Café in Wiley, Brian and Justin didn't return to the
Antique Market. Instead they decided to drive up into the
mountains and have a look around.
There were a number of places along the road that were
indicted on the map as 'Scenic Views,' but Brian was dubious.
"I don't need some bureaucrat from the Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania to tell me what view is 'scenic' and what
view isn't worth a look. I'm not an idiot, after all!"
"They're just letting us know where there are good places to
stop," Justin pointed out. "Otherwise we'd drive right by
them without knowing." Justin studied the map. "Go a little
further up this road and there's supposed to be a park. We
could get out and walk."
"I forgot my hiking boots," Brian returned. "And my Cub
Scout uniform."
"We don't have to go very far, Brian," said Justin. "I'd like
to see the view."
Brian turned in at the sign for the park, which was little
more than a glorified rest area. There was only a small
parking lot, rest rooms, a picnic table, and a sign board
with a map tacked onto it.
"I think I've tricked here," Brian commented as they got
out of the Vette. "Or somewhere that looked just like it off
the Pennsylvania Turnpike."
"Doesn't seem too busy," said Justin, noting the deserted
parking lot. He checked the map on the board. "If we walk
up the path a way there's a lookout. It says you can see
most of the valley from there."
Brian sighed melodramatically and shook his head.
Justin turned and gazed at Brian. His face was a mask of
disappointment.
"If you want to leave, Brian, then say so," said Justin,
dejectedly. "I thought this weekend was your idea. But it's
obvious that you hate everything about this place -- the
inn, the Antique Market, the town, the food, everything.
So why don't we go back to Pittsburgh? That way you can
be safe in your loft. And I can go back to Dartmouth a few
days early and stay in the dorm until Spring Term starts
on Tuesday. Okay?"
But Brian didn't answer. He was staring down at his Prada
boots and couldn't look Justin in the eye.
"I said it's okay if you want to leave," Justin repeated.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I heard you," said Brian, suddenly taking Justin by the
elbow. "Come on. Let's walk."
The gravel trail was just wide enough for two. They walked
in silence as the trail became steeper and the trees that had
pressed thickly on either side began to thin out. And then
they were at the end of the trail.
Justin could smell the difference in the air as they approached
the lookout. They were much higher than Justin had imagined
and the view was dizzying. A wooden fence arched around an
outcropping of flat stone that leaned over the valley far below.
"Wow!" Justin breathed. He moved forward for a better look.
"Justin! Be careful! Don't get too close to the edge," Brian
warned, clutching at Justin's arm. Brian wasn't afraid of
heights himself, but he also wasn't certain how safe this
area was. The wooden fence didn't look very secure and he
could see where some rocks from higher up the mountain
had slid down to the lookout during the harsh winter months.
"Are those the Appalachians?" Justin asked, pointing to the
dark range looming in the distance.
"I think so," said Brian. "We're only in the foothills. Those
are the real thing over there."
"When I was a kid a friend of my parents quit his job to
walk the Appalachian Trail," Justin said. "I remember my
dad telling my mom that the guy was crazy. But I thought it
was great, like a real adventure. To decide to do something
like that and then just do it. The trail starts up in New
England and ends somewhere way down South. It took him
a year to walk the whole thing."
"I think I'll pass on that stroll," said Brian, putting his arm
around Justin's shoulders. "Like I said, I forgot my hiking
boots." But it really was beautiful, Brian thought. And so quiet.
The loudest thing you could hear was the wind sweeping down
the valley. "Look! There's a hawk!" Brian pointed to a bird
soaring on the currents high above the lookout.
"It looks too big for a hawk," said Justin. "Maybe it's an eagle?
I wish we had binoculars so we could see it up close."
"Next time we'll have to come better prepared," said Brian.
Justin glanced up at Brian. "Next time?"
Brian shrugged. "You never know. I bet this place looks
pretty once all the trees get their leaves. And then in the
fall when the colors turn."
"I'm sorry I bitched at you in the parking lot," Justin said
softly. "I know you're having a terrible time and are only
doing all this stuff because... well, I'm not really sure why
you're doing it, actually. But I'm having a wonderful time,
Brian. I wanted you to know that. Even if we pack up and go
back tonight, it'll still be one of the best times I've ever
had in my life. And that's because we're together. That
makes it special."
Brian brushed his fingers across Justin's face. It was windy
and chilly at the lookout -- it was still March, after all --
but Brian felt a warmth moving through him. Like something
that had been frozen for a very long time was thawing deep
inside.
"No, Justin," Brian replied. "I was only having a momentary
queen out. I don't want to go home tonight. Besides, the room
is paid for through Monday morning. It's just that I feel like
I'm too far outside my comfort zone. I'm not used to all of
this. The country. The people. All this fucking nature. And
that big, ridiculous bed."
"I like that ridiculous bed, Brian," Justin informed him.
"And the fireplace. And the Antique Market."
"I know," Brian nodded. "That should really worry me."
But, strangely, it didn't worry Brian. He wasn't certain
why it didn't worry him. Brian was usually less than
tolerant of people's tastes that did not mirror his own.
Justin wrapped his arms Brian and leaned his head against
his chest. "Maybe you don't mind me so much, Brian. Maybe
you might even get used to having me around -- if you let
me stick around a while."
"I don't know, Justin," Brian replied. "But I don't think
it's my choice anymore. Something is going on. Something
that scares me."
Justin smiled. "I don't think you're afraid of anything,
Brian."
"No," said Brian. "Only everything that I can't control. And
that puts me in a tight little box. That's the way I've lived
my life -- hiding in that box. Do you know that my mother
still doesn't know I'm gay? And I only told my father when I
knew he was going to die."
Justin was surprised to hear that. Brian was the most out
person he had ever met in his life -- except maybe for
Emmett Honeycutt, who seemed to have been born out.
"Then you understand what's going on with me and my
father."
"Yes," said Brian. "I understand perfectly. That's why I've
never pushed you to do anything about it. I put on a good front,
but underneath I'm a fucking coward. I tell other people to come
clean, but I can't face my own goddamn mother and let her know
the truth. And I can't face the truth about myself. That I'm
fucking lonely and miserable a lot of the time. I say that I value
honesty over everything else, but if you can't be honest with
yourself...." Brian paused. There was a tightness in his throat.
"I'm trying. But it's difficult."
Justin slipped his hands under Brian's leather jacket and
rubbed his back through his sweater. He felt so strong. Brian's
body looked thin, but his arms were like iron and when he moved
Justin could see every muscle, like in a Greek statue. Being in
those arms made Justin feel safe. But it also gave Justin strength,
too. Justin knew that he couldn't hide behind Brian. Because Brian
was human, too. Vulnerable. That in many ways Justin was the
stronger one. More grounded. More certain of who he was and
who he wanted to be. While Brian, who seemed so confident and
fully-formed, was still searching for himself.
"It's getting late," said Brian. "Let's go back to the inn and get
cleaned up. We have reservations at one of those places on your
list of hot spots. Let's see what culinary delights the locals can
dish up."
"I'm ready," said Justin. "And next time we come up here we'll
bring the binoculars. So we can see all the way to the mountains."
Yes, thought Brian. I want to see as far as I can. See something
I've never seen before. Even if it's right beside me.