Every Time I Think of You (18 page)

“Mom was totally against it at first,” he said, absent-mindedly taking my hand, rubbing his stomach with it until I started caressing him. “Until Dad figured out how to make the insurance settlement pay for it, or he’s paying part of it. I dunno.”

I cautiously reached my hand up, caressed his face. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, but you have to grow, Ev. I’ll come visit you.”

“Sure you will.”

“I will. I could ditch the park job, stay with you. You know I would.”

“No. I’ll still be here, or there. Where the hell is this place?” He reached for the pile of brochures his father had brought. “Dad picked the one in Piss-bar.”

“Well, it’s good for us, too. We can all visit you, even your mother.”

“Unless you spike her car tires.”

“Stop it.” I wanted to remind him that despite her dislike toward me, and whatever long-term resentment between them, I did have to thank her for giving birth to this amazing little guy whom I couldn’t stop thinking about.

“Okay.” I retrieved the forlorn little plant, surprised that it hadn’t wilted to sticks. Helen had no doubt kept it thriving. Standing before him with it in my hands, I felt a pang of regret, as if he were dismissing me.

We touched, kissed and caressed each other, but remained clothed. My hands never went lower, partially in deference to Helen’s warning. But I also held back, denying my curiosity about his immobile legs.

“You know, but the meds,” he said softly. “They make my dreams so strange. In one of them, we were together. And we were just walking in the snow, Reid. We were just … walking.”

We lay together, misty-eyed, fingers interlocking, wanting to touch so much more, but settling into a half-sleep, as if we were storing up each other’s warmth while learning again how to be apart. Two hours later, I left the love of my life, all 18.2 years of it.

Chapter 29

Summer, 1979

Elliot, our senior ranger. He’s nice, about 40, a hunky older dude with a sexy beard (Don’t be jealous; ha!). He’s basically my boss, but cool about it. He’s been working here for almost a decade. He can be a bit obsessive about things, like picking up trash from inconsiderate tourists. But basically, he’s cool.

Amanda, who’s sort of the assistant senior ranger. She’s been working here for a few years and really knows her flora and fauna. I mentioned our recent visit to the Natural History Museum (minus our little, uh, private inter-lewd) and we got into a really fascinating discussion about glacial shifts and geological changes to the region. Well, it was fascinating to us. I’m basically in nerd heaven.

Scott, a graduate student at Pitt, who’s focusing on Environmental Studies. He’s really charged about fighting nuclear power, went to a few protests back in March after Three Mile Island, and even got arrested! Yeah, he’s also a bit of a hunk. Too bad he’s not my roommate (See above about the jealousy thing. Besides, I think he’s got the hots for Amanda).

Jill, who’s too damn perky for her own good, and pretty much inserts being a Christian into every conversation. I’ve had to watch my words around her, not that I swear or anything, but you know. At least she’s the one who gets the church group hikes, which is a relief for me.

Alex, a Vietnamese Botany geek. He’s all about hybrids and conservation and studying non-native invasive species. Since he also collects insect samples, he makes me comparatively non-nerdy. He moved to Philly with about a dozen of his family members when he was five. He’s tried to teach me a few words in Vietnamese, but they get caught in my mouth and I don’t have a very good memory for languages, I guess. He snores like a buzz saw. I share a room with him.

So, we share a kitchen and a bathroom, all of us. It’s kind of cramped, but there’s an extra shower outside. I pretty much use that every morning. No, it’s enclosed, you perv.

There are other co-workers who run the gift shop and rangers who spend more time out around the northern regions of the park, but I’ve only met them briefly, and they either drive home nearby or live at other stations further away where I hope to go camping soon. But for now, I’m kept busy studying maps and learning about giving tours and leading short hikes for the day-trippers.

As you noticed, I’m typing this (duh). Yay! There’s an old manual typewriter at the cabin, and a lot of books on nature, so I do some reading and when I want to write you, I can take it outside near the cabin so I don’t bother the others at night. Sorry for any typos. I tend to write after sunset with only a Coleman lamp.

It’s so beautiful here, Ev. I wish you could visit me. I miss you so much.

I have to tell you I brought a few things like a few small copies of photos Holly took of us, your school sweatshirt (it gets cold at night), and a few other, um, items you sent (grin).

I’ll send you some photos when I have time to get them developed. I don’t yet have driving privs with the Range Rover, but I go into town a few times with Elliot or Amanda for shopping trips. We have to pay for our own groceries, but Elliot loves cooking, so we go in together for dinners.

For now, enclosed (and probably wilted and flattened, but hey) is a sample of the beautiful wild flowers that abide in the park; Bluets (Houstonia caerulea). I know no one is supposed to pick flowers in a park, but since I work here, I’m giving myself employee privileges. It’s amazing to come across a cluster of them, almost like a bed of snow.

Anyway, take care, and write if you can. My phone number’s below, but it’s in the hallway in our cabin, and not at all private, and there’s no answering machine. If you call, which would be best to do in the evening, you can whisper all the sweet nothings you want, but I probably won’t be able to whisper much back.

XO, Giraffe

June 23

Yo, Monk!

Still no driving privileges, but I’m keeping busy. I’ve been relegated to the gate for several days. It’s boring, except I get to meet pretty much everyone entering the park on the south side. People mostly know they have to register and pay for camping. I’m basically a cashier and I hand out maps.

Elliot gave me this tip, since he’s kind of justifiably paranoid about smokers. When he works the gate, he looks in the car for an open ashtray or a trace of cigarettes, then gives a stronger version of the fire safety lecture. Most people are cool.

Others, like the fathers –who are almost always the driver, so I talk to them– think they know everything, even though I’m required to recite my safety scripts.

No, there are no bears, Booboo. But there are a lot of scavenging animals that like to pig out on people food. Makes a mess if campers don’t lock up their food. I had to play janitor at three campsites. It upsets me how sometimes people can be so careless.

There’s a busload of kids from Erie coming up, I mean down, for the day next week. Elliot said I could give a talk on park safety and how not to get lost, all the plants and animals to see, that sort of thing. I’m kind of nervous about talking in front of our first group of kids. Wish me luck!

Your flower of the week is Woodpoppy (Stylophorum diphyllum). Its leaves are kind of rough, like kale, but the blossoms are (or were; by the time you get them they’ll be brown) a bright deep yellow.

XO, Reid

June 28

Everino,

Well, the kids’ talk went really well. I was nervous at first, wondering if I’d run out of things to say, but they have so many questions! I mean, it’s amazing. They’re so curious! Of course, I got totally upstaged when Rick, this guy with the fire prevention crew, came by in a Smokey the Bear costume. He does these appearances for the kids’ groups, and can’t really talk under his bear suit. So I kind of interpret for him. It’s hilarious. The kids all want to hug him and we take their pictures with him. It’s just so great knowing we’re teaching these little kids to love nature and respect da erf, ya know?

PS: your wildflower this time is Turtlehead, aka Chelone glabra, not to be confused with Lyon’s Turtlehead, aka Chelone lyoni. Wouldn’t want there to be any confusion. Besides, the Lyon’s Turtlehead have thick blossoms, and I’ll need a box to mail you one of those.

July 1

Everett Evergreen,

Hey, my sexy man, How are you? Ain’t heard from you, so I hope you’re okay and enjoying my silly letters. You know you can call me at night, too.

Enclosed are a few photos of me. I hope you appreciate the pics of me shirtless in my hot ranger shorts and hat and boots. I basically had to come out to Elliot, since I didn’t want my roommate Alex knowing just yet that I’m a homo. I figured Elliot would be cool about it, and he was. He asked if the pics were for a girl back home, and I told him no. He didn’t push it, but I just blurted out, “They’re for my boyfriend.” He laughed and took a few extras, so I guess he’s cool.

But, you know, I hope you don’t mind me calling you my boyfriend. I’m not sure what we are, except you’re the most important person to me. Well, you know, I’m supposed to think that about my parents, and in reality, the people you’re with are important, which makes my co-workers important. But anyway, I hope you know how I feel about you and that I miss you.

Speakin’ of which, we had a totally amazing rainstorm the other day. Practically, it was good, because believe it or not, people have been known to camp over July 4 holiday and set off fireworks – I know, idiotic, right? – and the woods are damp and wet and safer. The major cause of wildfires is lightning, Elliot said, and he was more worried about that, so there were a lot of phone calls with the ranger station further north, but fortunately no fires.

But the amazing thing was my little private adventure. I was out by myself when the afternoon rain hit. Some late campers had arrived before the gates closed for the night, and I’d warned them of the impending storm.

On my walk back to our cabin, the first droplets began to fall, light at first, then in heavy splats. Instead of hightailing it to shelter, I veered into the woods and off the trail. I’ve become pretty adept at going off-trail. My sense of direction’s become pretty good. And you know, it may sound odd, but I think looking at all these wide scenic views has improved my eyesight. I’ve been ditching the glasses more often.

I found this mossy grove near a stream, and the trees provided enough shelter, with just a light sprinkling of the rain coming down. The darkened skies gave the grove a beautiful glow.

Knowing I was completely alone, it didn’t take much for the longing to rise. I peeled off my ranger duds, and in just my boots and socks (Is this sounding familiar?) I had the most intense experience. It wasn’t just whacking off, you know? It was like I was communing with the trees, the moss and lichen, the wild flowers, the sod made of the remnants of wild animals from a hundred thousand years ago. Once I started thinking of you, and how great it would be to have you there, it got more intense.

Ev, I have these feelings for you that just won’t go away. I know we have to be apart, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but just know, every time I think of you…

Your wild flower this time is the Common Blue Violet (Viola papilonacea). Believe me, Monkey, when I found them, it wasn’t common at all.

Your Giraffe

Thank you SOO MUCH for the tape!! It’s so great to hear your voice. You’re a real great storyteller. That part where you gave me an audio tour of the facility was funny, especially when you dropped the tape recorder.

I understand about you not being able to write much. It sounds like they’re keeping you busy with the physical therapy. I didn’t realize there would be older people at the rehab center, but it makes sense. Really, your accompanist is 73? She sure can tickle the ivories. It sounds like you were all having a really good time. Do you do that very often?