Forever Young

Chapter One “It’s not so much the heat; it’s the humidity.” If Robbie heard that rejoinder one more time he just might have to strangle someone. Not that he was bothered by the intense summer temperatures. He enjoyed the warmer weather, and in Michigan, the number of hot summer days were limited. But he worked in a supermarket as a courtesy clerk. He’d had the job since he was fifteen, and after three years, he was an excellent bagger. His dexterity with tossing the grocery items from right hand to left was so impressive the customers often stopped and stared, jaw agape, as a string of items whirred through the air into the bag. Sometimes they’d step over and look down in the bag, perhaps fearing their groceries were in a mashed-up heap, only to discover them neatly stacked, as if by magic. Handling groceries wasn’t the only manual dexterity skill that Robbie possessed. He was also a gifted pianist, and he could type, text, and use an adding machine faster than anyone he knew. He’d just always been that way—very good with his hands. It was more than hand-eye coordination, for in most cases he didn’t even need to watch what he was doing. He could be carrying on a conversation with someone while completing a dexterous task in an apparently automatic manner. Robbie was good with crafts and knew how to knit and crochet, although he usually kept this knowledge to himself. He discovered a long time ago that there were certain skills, regardless of how impressive they were, that boys were expected not to possess. One skill he didn’t have, however, was interpersonal communication. When his customers at the market tried to engage him, Robbie was polite. He nodded and smiled, but could rarely think of an appropriate response. He hadn’t mastered the snappy comeback, and would often eavesdrop on the cashiers, trying to pick up on their carefree banter with each other and with the customers. But it just wasn’t something that came easy to him. When Mr. Christianson complained to Robbie about the humidity, he should’ve known how to respond. The comment had been repeated at least three dozen times by various customers during the course of his shift, and he could have simply mimicked the responses of his coworkers. Instead he smiled and nodded like he always did. “What’s the matter with you, boy?” The tall, elderly man was one of Robbie’s most intimidating customers. He was a regular, a local resident, and all the employees knew him as a boisterous, demanding big spender. Robbie looked up at him, gulped, and tried to think of the right thing to say. “Someone speaks to you, acknowledge them. I don’t know what the hell’s the matter with kids these days. No respect. No Goddamned respect. Watch what you’re doing with my stuff. I better not have broken eggs and smashed bread. I don’t like how you just throw all the s**t in the bag without even looking.” Robbie’s eyes grew wide as he felt his cheeks getting warm. “I’m sorry, sir.” He looked down as he continued to package the groceries, taking special care to slow his pace and watch each item as he transferred it from hand to hand. “Don’t worry about him, sugar,” Susan said after the customer had left. “He’s just an angry old man. Meaner than quarreling cats in a gunny sack.” She was Robbie’s favorite coworker, a short and slender middle-aged woman who wore her hair in an updo. She’d transplanted to northern Michigan from one of the southern states, Mississippi or Alabama or somewhere. She still had her drawl and called everyone honey or dear. “I don’t know what I did,” he admitted. “You didn’t do nothin’ honey, so don’t fret none about it. That Henry Christianson is just a grump. You’re the best bag boy this store here’s ever seen. You just keep yourself right here behind me and don’t move.” Susan always insisted on having Robbie as her bagger. She was a quick cashier, and she wanted a bag boy who could keep up with her. “I’m sorry, but I gotta go out to gather carts from the lot. My shift’s almost over.” Susan looked down at her watch. “Well, if it ain’t nearly nine o’clock already. Wow, time flies when you’re havin’ fun, I guess.” She laughed. “Run along now, and don’t pay no mind to old Henry.” Most kids his age would’ve probably considered it a drag to work all summer the way he was, but he enjoyed it. He told his boss, Mr. Wandrie, he’d take as many hours as he could get. Robbie was saving for a car, and already had over two grand in his bank account. In addition to his job at the grocery store, he also mowed lawns in the trailer park. The yards were all small and only took a few minutes each. He could make ten bucks a yard, which translated to a couple hundred on a good day if he worked fast enough. Summer was the only time of year he could really bank any money, though. He was already enrolled at community college and was planning to start classes in the fall. His mom hadn’t allowed him to work many hours during the school year, but he was an adult now. He’d graduated with honors, and his grades had never suffered. Still, that was just the way his mom was. She worried about everything and wanted Robbie to focus primarily on school rather than extra-curricular activities. It was okay, though. Those sorts of things just weren’t his style, anyway. He hadn’t been a member of any after-hours clubs or sports. He was pretty much a loner and didn’t feel comfortable in situations where he had to assert himself. Even at work, now that he was eighteen, he could’ve advanced to a cashier position had he really wanted, but the pay wasn’t much more, and it would involve interacting more with the customers. Customers like Mr. Christianson. Pushing in the grocery carts was the least desirable aspect of Robbie’s job as courtesy clerk. It wasn’t really that he disliked the task, but rather it was physically taxing. Being as short as he was and weighing barely over a hundred pounds, the carts were heavy. And the parking lot was on a bit of a slope. Four or five carts at a time wasn’t too difficult, but when there were more, it was almost all he could do to get them across the lot and up into the store. The smart thing would be to just make more trips, but if one of the other courtesy clerks saw him doing this, they’d tease him and call him a wimp. Robbie was used to teasing. At school, he’d often been the brunt of the joke, mostly because of his size. He didn’t consider himself to be a victim, though. He wasn’t bullied any more than most other kids. The jibes and insults were embarrassing and sometimes hurt his feelings, but rarely did he get angry. He’d smile or laugh and try to handle these situations good-naturedly. There were a lot of carts outside. Each bagger was on “lot duty” for a portion of their shift. The conscientious clerks would make sure the lot was cleared throughout their assigned hour, but some of Robbie’s coworkers weren’t exactly ambitious. If they realized one of the other baggers was going home at the end of the hour, they’d slack off and leave a bunch of carts. Since the other bagger on duty was Jerry, Robbie wasn’t surprised to see so many carts. That slacker hadn’t cleared the lot at all during the previous hour, although it had been his assignment. He didn’t do anything more than he absolutely had to do. Although Jerry was a year younger than Robbie, he was a little bigger and a whole lot bossier. As Robbie gathered up the last remaining nine carts, sliding them together into a ridiculously long train, he took a deep breath and threw his weight into them, pushing them up the inclined parking lot toward the entry doors. He was huffing and puffing, and at one point, he thought he’d have to stop. He willed himself onward, though, inching along toward his destination. When at last he got the carts inside, he was panting. He turned around, ready to head inside to the time clock, when he noticed another kid about his age standing in the lobby. “Crazy, man,” the dark-haired stranger commented. Robbie didn’t recognize him. He was sure the kid didn’t go to his school. “That string of carts probably weighs about five times what you do.” Robbie nodded, then looked down at the ground. Once again, he wasn’t sure how he should respond. “Yeah,” he managed to utter. “What’s up with that?” The guy was wearing jeans and a leather jacket, looking cooler than a kid his age ought to look. His badass retro guise had an effect upon Robbie. He liked it a little too much. And that gorgeous, boyish face was badboy sexy. The guy had dark eyes, short black hair, and he smelled heavenly. “Why ain’t that other dude helping you?” He thumbed a fist toward the inside of the store where Jerry was standing idly at one of the checkouts. “I dunno,” Robbie said. His voice was quiet, barely audible. “It’s my job to bring in the carts before I go home.” “I see. Well, seems to me since that lard ass ain’t doin’ nothin’ but standing there, he ought to help. Don’t ya think?” “Yeah, probably.” “You should tell him.” Robbie smiled and shrugged. “I gotta get back inside.” As he walked past the kid, Robbie experienced a weird sensation. The tiny hairs on his arms felt as if they were standing up, and even after Robbie was back inside he thought he could still feel the handsome stranger staring at him. He shook off the tingly feeling and headed briskly across the checkout area toward the back offices. After reporting to his supervisor that he’d completed all shift duties, he was at last free to punch out and go home. Jerry was waiting for him by the time clock, leaning with his palm pressed against the wall, directly above the clock. “Why don’t you stay and work my last hour?” “Uh, sorry, Jerry, but Mr. Wandrie already told me to punch out.” “Go tell him you’re coverin’ for me. I don’t feel so good. Besides, it’ll give you another hour’s pay.” Robbie released an exasperated sigh. “Jerry, you should’ve asked me earlier. I already cleared the lot and everything…” Jerry stepped closer. He reached out and grabbed the front of Robbie’s shirt. Clenching his fist, he pulled Robbie closer. “Listen here, you little faggot. I told you I don’t feel good, and you’re gonna cover for me!” The sound of a throat being cleared startled both boys, and Jerry quickly released him. Robbie spun around to see his boss, Mr. Wandrie, standing a few feet from them. “Robbie, go ahead and punch out. Jerry, come with me.” Robbie stood there, wide-eyed, staring at his boss for a moment. He then turned to Jerry who had a startled, nearly terrified look on his face. “Sir,” Robbie blurted out, “I’d be glad to stay if Jerry doesn’t feel well.” Mr. Wandrie shook his head. “Punch out and go home, Robbie. You’ve worked hard enough for one day.” With the shake of his head he motioned for Jerry to follow him, then turned and headed down the hall toward his office, Jerry stepping quickly behind him. I hope he doesn’t get fired. As much of a jerk Jerry was to him, Robbie didn’t want to see the kid lose his job. He should have just agreed to stay the extra hour. It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t have enjoyed a slightly larger pay check. Nothing he could do about it now. He punched out and stepped down the hall into the breakroom where the employee lockers were located. After opening his locker, Robbie removed his nametag and tossed it inside. He grabbed his k****e and lunch bag and stuffed them into his backpack before removing it from the locker, then shut the door and reattached the padlock. On his way out, he stopped to say good night to Susan. “I think I might’ve got Jerry in trouble,” he said. “Oh I doubt that, honey. Jerry seems to manage that task just fine all on his own.” “Well, Mr. Wandrie has him in the office now.” “Good! I hope he puts the fear ‘o God into that boy. Someone needs to light a fire under his tail feathers.” Robbie smiled. “I just hope he doesn’t lose his job.” “Robbie,” she said, stepping closer to him. There were no customers at the checkout. It was always slow the last hour of the night. “You’re such a good boy. If Jerry did his job like he’s s’pose t’ do, he wouldn’t have to worry bout getting in trouble.” “I know.” Robbie sighed. “Well, you have a good night, Susan.” “You too, hon.” As Robbie stepped outside, he decided to wait around a couple minutes to see what happened with Jerry. If he actually were to be fired, Robbie would see him come out. He stood by the entrance where he still had a clear view of the check stands through the window. About three minutes later, he saw Jerry return to his work area. He began scurrying about, replenishing the bag supply at each check lane. Robbie was relieved. Apparently Jerry hadn’t been canned. He probably just got a lecture and a stern warning from Wandrie. Most of the other kids who worked at the store didn’t like Mr. Wandrie all that much. They all made fun of him behind his back, probably just because he was the boss. As far as Robbie was concerned, Mr. Wandrie was a pretty decent guy. There were days when the man seemed kind of grouchy, but that was true of everyone. Robbie wondered for a moment if Mr. Wandrie had heard Jerry call him a faggot. Well, he must have heard. It made Robbie embarrassed, and he hoped Mr. Wandrie didn’t get the wrong idea about him. That’s what guys like Jerry called other people, especially when they were mad. It didn’t really mean anything. It was like when people said something was “gay” just because they didn’t like it. It was like a figure of speech or something. To be honest, it kind of hurt his feelings. He didn’t understand why Jerry would say something like that to him. Was it that obvious that he was… “You haven’t left yet?” Robbie jumped, startled by the voice behind him. He turned to face the kid he saw earlier, the one with the leather jacket. “Oh gosh, you scared me.” “Sorry, dude.” Leather jacket boy laughed. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on ya.” “I thought Jerry was getting fired,” Robbie said. “He got called into the manager’s office.” The kid nodded. “Good. It’s about time.” “Oh. Um, I didn’t want him to get in trouble or anything. I definitely didn’t want him to, ya know, lose his job.” “Why not? He’s lazy.” Robbie shrugged. “He said he wasn’t feeling well.” Leather jacket boy again laughed. “You’re a pretty…how should I say it…trusting person. Aren’t you?” “Uh, I don’t know. I guess so.” “Well, Robbie, I think you should be careful. Some people aren’t all that trustworthy.” Robbie looked at him. His eyes were darker than before, now almost black. Perhaps it was due to the dim lighting. “How’d you know my name?” “You were wearing a name badge. I read it before, when you were out here pushing the carts.” “Oh.” “My name’s Colt, by the way.” “Really?” Robbie smiled, then instantly realized how rude he must’ve sounded. “Sorry, I’ve never heard of anyone with that name.” “Short for Colton. It’s a family name, and don’t be sorry. It is kinda unusual.” “Oh, well I like it.” As his new friend looked him in the eye, Robbie felt himself flush. “Uh, I mean…well, it’s a cool name.” Colt stepped closer to him, now within Robbie’s personal space. “So you’re done with your shift now?” Robbie nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered. “You waitin’ for a ride or something?” “Nah. I just live a couple blocks from here, over in the trailer park.” “Cool.” Colton smiled. “I’ll walk you home.” “You don’t have to!” Robbie blurted out. “Uh, I mean, that’s nice of you, but—” “I know I don’t have to, but what if I want to?” Why would he want to walk me home? Robbie wasn’t exactly sure what it was about this guy, but he really liked him. Perhaps it was how sexy he looked in that leather jacket. Maybe it was his eyes, so dark and mysterious, or the deep resonance of his voice. “Okay. It’s up to you.” Colt reached down and scooped up the backpack Robbie had placed beside him on the pavement. “Lead the way.” Robbie laughed. “You don’t have to carry that, ya know. I can manage.” “I want to carry it,” Colt said, his voice firm with confidence. “I can tell already you’re a really good person, someone I’d like to have as a friend.” “Thanks.” Robbie couldn’t believe this guy was being so nice, and the attention made him feel a bit overwhelmed. He was sexy and charming, almost too good to be true. “But you really know nothing about me. For all you know, I could be a murderer or something.” Colt laughed a little more enthusiastically than Robbie expected. “That’s a good one.” He slapped his palm against Robbie’s shoulder, then squeezed it affectionately. Robbie felt his cheeks grow hot. They walked together a ways, Robbie leading the way. Robbie wasn’t sure what to say to his new friend, how to keep the conversation going. “I guess you’re saying I don’t seem all that dangerous.” “Well, dude, to be honest, no you don’t. And you seem like the kinda guy who’s so nice that people probably sometimes take advantage of you.” Colt was beginning to sound like his mom. “Maybe.” He nodded. “But I guess I’d rather people considered me too nice than too mean.” “True. But you gotta be careful. Being nice ain’t the same as being gullible. You still have to stand up for yourself and not let people use you.” “Like Jerry.” Robbie knew what Colt was saying to be true, but it just wasn’t in his nature to argue with people. “Yeah, like that jerk. He obviously wasn’t sick. He was just trying to bully you into working overtime so he could go home.” Robbie nodded then hung his head. “Hey, how’d you know Jerry said he was sick?” “You told me when we were back at the store.” “I did?” Robbie didn’t remember. “Are you new here? Do you live in the park too?” “Nah, don’t live in the park, but I’m new to Boyne. Just moved here last week.” “Oh wow. So you’ll be going to school here, or are you in college?” Colt shook his head. “I don’t go to school or college. I already graduated.” “Oh, I thought you looked about my age. I just graduated last month.” “I got home-schooled,” Colt said. “My folks didn’t like the public schools. How old do you think I look?” “I don’t know.” He didn’t want to answer for fear of guessing wrong. “Seventeen maybe.” Colt laughed. “You’re way off.” “Sorry, I’m not good at guessing people’s ages.” “I’m way older than seventeen,” Colt said, still smiling. “Way older. Would you believe I’m a hundred sixty-seven?” Robbie cracked up. “Wow, you look great for your age. You must have a fantastic diet and exercise regimen.” “Oh, I do.” He winked then draped an arm over Robbie’s shoulder. “Mostly a liquid diet.” Robbie turned to him, inhaling as he did so, and immediately noticed how enticing Colt smelled. He was wearing some sort of sandalwood fragrance. He stopped walking and looked into his friend’s eyes. They seemed much darker than before, but perhaps it was due to the dim lighting of the lampposts around them. “How old are you really?” Robbie whispered. “I was seventeen last time I checked.” Colt’s voice was now softer, sultry. Robbie was beginning to feel nervous. He’d never been this close to another boy, at least not like this. It felt so intimate. They were completely alone on the street, the small town already settled down for the night. Any one of his neighbors could look out their windows and see him with his new friend. Robbie’s home was less than a block away. As Colt leaned into him, Robbie felt his heart beat faster. “That’s my house up there,” Robbie blurted out, pointing down the street. Colt pulled back but didn’t turn to see where Robbie was pointing. “I don’t really wanna look at your house right now,” he whispered. “I’d rather look at you.” Robbie hated himself for laughing, but it was automatic. Nerves. He didn’t really even know this kid. He knew nothing about Colt and had only met him a few minutes ago. “I, uh…I probably should get inside. My mom’s waiting for me.” “Maybe we can hang out sometime.” “Um, yeah sure. You want my number?” “Don’t have a cell phone yet, but I can stop by tomorrow if you want.” “Oh sure, that’d be great.” Robbie had the whole day free and didn’t even have to work. “But I’ll probably be mowing lawns in the morning. If you wanna make a few bucks, maybe you could help. I’ll split the—” Colt shook his head. “I’m not much of a morning person. How ‘bout I stop by tomorrow night, say around nine, nine-thirty?” “Sure.” Robbie smiled at him. “That’d be cool.” Colt handed him the backpack he was carrying. “It’s a date then.” He took a step back, winked at him once more, and began to walk away. He headed back in the direction they came. “A date,” Robbie said out loud, repeated, more to himself than to his new friend. “Wow, a real date.” “Bye!” Robbie called after him. Colt turned, holding up a hand. “See ya tomorrow.” * * * * * Robbie started piano lessons when he was nine years old. His mom had an old Spinet piano, one that had been handed down from her mother. Being that Robbie and his mom lived in a double-wide house trailer, anything bigger than this would’ve never fit. In fact, even the small upright piano had barely cleared the door frame when they moved in. Robbie couldn’t ever remember living anywhere other than the trailer park in Boyne City. When he was an infant, his parents had an apartment, but by the time Robbie started kindergarten, they’d moved into the park. His parents divorced when Robbie was six, and he hadn’t seen much of his dad since. When it became obvious that Robbie had musical talent, his mom insisted that he practice every day. This was hardly burdensome to Robbie because making music was his favorite pastime. By the sixth grade, his musical repertoire included an eclectic mix of upbeat, contemporary songs as well as all the classical standards. He even played the traditional show tunes and orchestral music—the kind his grandma liked. When he first began learning piano, his focus was on reading music. Eventually he got to a point where he seldom had to rely upon the sheet music. He could pick up most melodies simply by listening to them. For his thirteenth birthday, his grandparents got him a digital piano, which was the coolest thing ever. He kept that in his bedroom, and it quickly became his preferred instrument. As soon as Robbie opened the door and walked into his living room that evening, his mother greeted him as usual and informed him she’d saved him dinner. “Oh cool,” he said with a big grin on his face. “Why’re you so happy?” He shrugged, trying as best he could to remain casual in his demeanor. He peeled back the aluminum foil from the plate and inhaled the mouth-watering aroma of his favorite meal. “Mm, smells good.” “Who was that boy?” she asked. “Huh?” He glanced over to her. She was sitting at the kitchen table, next to the window. She must have seen him and Colt talking. “Oh, um, he’s just this guy I met. He just moved here. We’re gonna hang out tomorrow.” “Does this guy have a name?” “Yeah.” He picked up a drumstick and bit into it. “Bring that over to the table and sit down to eat it,” she said. “You’ll get crumbs all over that floor.” Robbie scooped up the plate as he rolled his eyes, then stepped over to the table and sat down. “His name’s Colt,” he said after swallowing his first bite. “He looks a lot older than you.” “Yeah, he’s a hundred and sixty-some years old.” Robbie laughed. “What?” “That’s what he said. Actually, he’s seventeen, a year younger than me, but he’s taller. Everyone’s taller than me, though.” “You should’ve invited him in. If you’re gonna be spending time with this kid, I want to meet him.” “I just met him, Mom. I don’t know if I’m gonna be spending time with him or not. He was at the store and we…well…just started talking and stuff. So he walked me home.” “Is he gay?” “Well, he’s a friend. We just met, and I have no idea if he’s gay or not.” This wasn’t entirely true. Robbie did sense that Colt was interested in more than friendship. The way he’d leaned into him when they were in the street together. It had felt so intimate, and Robbie thought Colt was going to kiss him. He’d wanted it. He’d wanted it more than anything, but he was scared. Robbie had never been kissed by a boy before. It was easy for Robbie to figure out he was gay. Well, he’d always kind of known. Even when he was real young and didn’t know the meaning of s****l orientation, Robbie realized he was different. As he grew into puberty and started to realize he was attracted to other boys, everything all kind of clicked. The puzzle pieces slid together, and it suddenly made sense why he didn’t feel comfortable with the typical boy things. He’d never liked sports, never played with the right kind of toys—the ones designed for boys, and he’d always been more artistic and creative. Most of his childhood friends had been girls. Robbie’s mom was the first person he’d come out to. She’d always seemed to like gay people and was quite vocal about her advocacy of gay rights, so at the time it didn’t seem like such a big deal. He wasn’t really telling her anything she shouldn’t have already figured out. And she’d been supportive. She didn’t go all freaky on him. Robbie got the impression she was sort of excited to have a gay son. He hadn’t even turned fifteen yet when he came out, and for the most part, it didn’t make much of a difference in his life. The main thing that changed was that he finally stopped pretending to be like other boys. He no longer had to say he thought certain girls looked cute, and he didn’t have to hide the fact that he liked boys. In high school, Robbie had never dated. It wasn’t like Boyne was teeming with out and proud homosexuals. He had a couple straight female friends he’d hung out with, and both knew he was gay, but for the most part he kept his identity secret. One of these friends, Lisa, was his date to the prom. Even if he had met a boy he was interested in, Boyne City wasn’t the easiest place in the world to be a gay teen. He didn’t really know any other kids in school who were gay, well not any he wanted to date, anyway. Sometimes Robbie attended his church youth group, and he’d been in band. These activities, combined with his work schedule, had kept him very busy during the school year. In the summer, his focus was to earn as much money as he possibly could, and he looked forward to a very profitable three months. He wanted his own car before the college semester started in the fall. That didn’t leave a lot of time for dating, youth group, music, or anything else. Perhaps his mom was concerned he’d spend so much time focused on work that he wouldn’t enjoy his last summer. It seemed she was constantly encouraging him to do other things, make new friends, and enjoy his youth before it slipped completely away. “Robbie, once you enter the work force full time, you’ll be stuck,” his mom had told him. “You’ll be working your whole life. I don’t want you to be in a big hurry. You’re only eighteen, and you just graduated. Enjoy your last summer and do some of the things other eighteen year olds do. Have some fun; live a little.” Robbie didn’t see it that way. He liked working and making money, and his goal to get his own car was only the first step. He had no intention of going through life slaving away in a dead-end job like his mother. He planned eventually to go on to college and get a degree. He wanted to escape this one-horse town. Boyne City was nice, as far as small towns went, but there was no future for him here. “He seems nice,” Robbie said. “We’re just gonna hang out.” “Well, have him come in and meet me.” “Mom!” Alone in his room, Robbie slipped on his headphones and lay on his bed. It was after ten o’clock, and his mom had retired for the evening. He closed his eyes, listening to the music, as he thought about his walk home with Colt. There was something about him, something mysterious. Even his voice, deeper than that of most guys his age, was sexy and soothing. When Colt was speaking, Robbie felt warmth inside his chest. It was an unusual sensation, very calming. And those dark eyes. Staring into them had made Robbie feel almost paralyzed, as if he was under hypnosis or something. Maybe that was happened when you met a boy like Colt. Maybe it was all just a part of the physical attraction. Whatever the case, Robbie liked it. It was exciting and a tiny bit scary, but when he thought of his new friend with his dark hair and leather jacket, Robbie’s heart beat quickened. He wished he hadn’t pulled away when Colt had leaned into him. He wished he’d have kissed him. Maybe he’d have another chance. Tomorrow.