Thoreau in Love (35 page)

“But he’s a man. I got to the square just in time to see a man taken off in chains. As he was being taken off they brought up his son, who wasn’t even as old as me. He looked back at his father. He was so scared. Oggghhh.” Ben gagged. Almost threw up. “That kid standing there. That’s all I could watch. I threw up, right there, and all these fancy dressed men, and even a couple of ladies, they all laughed and made fun of me.”

“I don’t believe in slavery,” said Henry.

“I never thought you did,” said Ben, his anger rising. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. Just listen, please.”

“I’m sorry,” said Henry.

“No, no, I don’t want your apology. It’s just, it was an upsetting thing. When I got back to the ship, that kid and his father were all I could think about. But then it was like I forgot totally about them. Like it never happened. This morning, when I remembered that kid, I started to wondering where he is now. Probably working someone’s field. Just because he’s a Negro. But I don’t think he’s any different than us except his hair’s curly, his nose is different and his skin’s dark. And because of that, he’s in chains. Real ones. Can you imagine if they put everyone with curly hair in chains? Just because their hair’s curly? It made me think how lucky I am. Yeah, I’m a pansy, a fairy-boy.”

Henry’s stomach turned to hear Ben say that. He wanted to say, No you’re not, but he let Ben go on. “Yeah they laugh at me, but they don’t put me in chains. And, sure, sometimes pansy-boys get beat up. Like your friend Stearns.”

Henry started to say, “He’s not a pansy-boy,” but stopped after “He’s.”

“One boy I met said he gets beat up almost every time he goes out on the streets.”

“He dresses fancy?”

“No, Henry. He dresses like you and me, but everyone knows. What I’m saying is, I’m lucky to be who I am. I’m not going to run from who I am anymore. I don’t care they don’t like it. It’s who I am. And it’s okay.”

When Henry was sure Ben was finished, he said, “Emerson always encourages me— I never thought of that. En-courages. What a word. It never occurred to me that it comes from courage. Make courageous. Anyway, ‘Be yourself,’ is what Emerson always says. And ‘Be true to yourself.’ Which is easy for him to say since he does neither. What I’m trying to say is, You’ve got courage, Ben. More courage than anyone I’ve ever known. A courage I lack.”

“That’s not true.”

“Sadly, it is. And can I accept that I lack courage? Eh, Robin? Or must I fight to be such a thing as I myself?”

“You must fight, Henry. All we can do is fight.” They sat with their thoughts for a few moments, then Ben said quietly, “Hold me, please.”

Ben turned on his side, his back to Henry, who, feeling like a strong comforter, put his arms around Ben and pulled him to him. And Ben melted in his arms. The heat of the night gave just the slightest scent to Ben. Henry inhaled Ben’s scent, pulling him tighter to him. And then Ben said, “I missed this so much after you left the ship. You holding me like this. I wish for it all the time.”

“Me, too,” said Henry. “All day, every day I think of us being together.” Ben turned so they were facing one another, and said softly, “Henry. I haven’t been honest with you.” Henry started to say it doesn’t matter, but Ben shushed him and said, “Please, just listen.

“First of all, you must believe me that I love you with all my heart. That if there is one truth in my life it’s my love for you. Right from the first I saw you, something happened inside me. And I knew I had to stop with my lies. But once you start with the lies, it’s difficult to stop.” Ben grimaced, looked at Henry with the saddest eyes.

“I love you, Henry. I love you so much.”

“I love you.”

“Please, don’t say anything.” Ben’s eyes dropped, he gulped hard and looked Henry in the eyes again. “I didn’t grow up in that nice house I told you about. My mother worked there as a char. All my clothes are hand-me-downs from their son. He’s the one went off to Harvard.”

“You told me this. Some.” Henry gripped Ben tighter, trying to reassure him.

Ben shook his head. “There’s more. My father was a coast watcher. He was supposed to build fires on dark nights on the bluffs at the eastern edge of the island, to warn ships off the rocks and the shoals. But he was a mooncusser. On dark nights, stormy nights, we built fires farther west, or way north, to lure ships onto the rocks.”

“My God,” said Henry.

“Fitz and I had to keep the fires blazing, no matter what the weather. When we didn’t, he beat the hell out of us. But when a ship came close, when it was too late, he sent us home, so we wouldn’t see. But we knew what happened. And when word got out a ship had broke up on the rocks, everyone on the island went to salvage what they could. Like rats. Everything that came in they took.”

“Oh, Ben.”

“I built the fire that drove Fitz’s ship onto the rocks. His body washed up on shore, along with so many others. . . . I’m filled with lies. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to lie to you.”

In the heavy silence Henry thought to say thank you, but realized how condescending that would be. He wanted to take Ben away from all that, say, Let’s go live in Concord, but the weight of Ben’s admissions hung on him, and he couldn’t say anything. Finally, he said, “I love you,” and kissed Ben, who put his arms around Henry and pulled him tight. After a few moments, Ben loosened his hold and said, “We could live together on Block Island.”

He said it so casually that Henry asked what he meant.

“Well, I get the feeling you don’t want to live in New York or here. And I thought, we could live together on Block Island.”

“We couldn’t do that.”

“We could. Lots of men live together and no one gives it a thought. Of course, if you don’t want to live with me—”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m talking about. Why would you ever want to go back there? Those people . . . mooncussers? They sound awful.”

“No more so than anyone else. I’m not afraid anymore. Not of my father. No one. I don’t care what anyone else wants me to be. I’m gonna live my life, not theirs.”

“Your father scares me,” said Henry.

“He’s a coward when it comes down to it. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Ben nodded. To the east, the clouds broke a bit so moonlight shone down on the forest. Henry said, “But there’re no trees on Block Island.”

“True. There are no trees. Maybe we could plant some. Nurture them.”

Henry didn’t say anything, and then quietly, so it startled him, Ben leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Henry.” Henry put a hand on Ben’s thigh and said, “I love you too. But God you sure know how to scare me.”

“I just don’t know what else to do. I want to be with you. I get the feeling you want to be with me. On Block Island we could live, not work to live, but live. There’s all this land and fresh-water ponds. Abandoned houses too. There’s this one little house, more like a shack, really, just by my favorite pond. We could fix it up and live there, fish, grow potatoes and beans. You could write without any worries about money. With me your muse. Just the two of us. Blind Varnum and Blind Henry live on their own.”

“But you said they’re brothers.”

“But maybe they’re not. Do you think anyone cares? Block Island’s different. It’s a special place. We can’t afford to live here. Plus, in New York I’d always be scared the captain would find me. That’s the only person I am scared of. Him catching me, the only thing I am scared about. But Mrs. Hawke, she’d never let him put in to Block Island. Not for nothing. We could live. And live simply.”

“What about winter?”

Beaming, his teeth glowing in the moonlight, Ben said, “Oh, it gets cold, and the wind never stops. But there’s plenty of peat to burn, and we can cuddle.”

A thousand reasons not to go ran through Henry’s head. What would he say to the Emersons? What would they think? What would everyone in Concord think? Easy for you, Ben, he thought, and then, without realizing it, said aloud, “But what about me?”

“What about you?”

“Telling Waldo, ‘I’m going to live with this young—”

“Henry. Are you talking to me or are you talking to yourself?”

“What was I saying?”

“Something about telling Waldo. I didn’t want you to finish it.”

“I’m afraid, Ben.”

“I know you are, Henry. So am I.”

“Give me time, will you?” Henry looked down at the house. A dim lamp had been lit in the kitchen, and it seemed so appealing. “Can we go back?”

They snuck in the house and up the creaky back stairs to their room.

In the dark, Ben stood over Henry’s bed with nothing on; after a quiet moment he said, “So you don’t just suck your own tongue, it’s sticking straight out next to your eye.” Henry cracked up. Ben, trying to shush him, slid in beside him under the covers, but Henry couldn’t stop laughing for several minutes. And then he lay there thinking he couldn’t be happier than he was at that moment, feeling the heat of Ben’s body beside him, awash in Ben’s scent.

“This is all I’ll ever need,” he said. But then Ben leaned over and kissed him, reminding him that there was so much more he could have.

After a quiet rollicking, they shot a white mess and lay together in their mess and caught their breaths. And then in a small strong voice Ben said, “I love you,” words as beautiful and inestimable as the drums of dawn sounding over the sea.

At the end of Ben’s second week on Staten Island, they took a long walk, heading to the sea beach, picking flowers and buds and leaves along the way. At one point, Henry stopped and said, “I’m happy, Ben.”

“I am too,” said Ben, his lower lip falling into a smile.

“But it’s more than that. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. Even on
Dahlia
, I was excited, but I was always fearful that you’d change your mind about me.”

Ben reached over, gently tugged Henry’s chin and kissed him. “Why would I change my mind. I knew from the moment I saw you that we were meant for each other.”

“Everything just seems right. Easy.”

“For me too.” Ben took Henry’s hand and they sauntered on until the path led through a glade surrounded by ancient cedar. Henry stopped and asked, “Have you ever noticed how snow melts first around tree trunks?”

“Snow? Why would you think of snow at a time like this?”

“No, think of it. Always the snow melts out from the tree trunks. As if there’s some slumbering, subterranean fire that never goes out. It’s nature, Ben. And it’s burning now, somewhere below us.”

“We had no trees on Block Island, and rarely snow that stuck. But I believe you. And I love you.” Henry smiled, then, remembering that Reverend Ralph might be at the seashore, Reverend Ralph who he had no desire to see, he thought to turn back. But then sotto voce he said, “Who cares?”

“I beg your pardon,” said Ben.

“No, not you. I’m sorry. Something went through my mind.” He pulled Ben to him and kissed his lips. “I love you.”

They marched happily on, deep into the cedar forest, Henry whistling as he walked.

“What’s that you’re whistling?” said Ben.

“Was I whistling?” Henry looked befuddled, so Ben whistled the song.

“It’s ‘Long Long Ago,’ ” said Henry, and, picking up where Ben whistled, he sang:

“
Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,

Long long ago, long long ago:

Sing me the songs I delighted to hear
,

Long long ago, long ago:

Now you are come my grief is remov’d
,

Let me forget that so long you have rov’d
,

Let me believe that you love as you lov’d
,

Long long ago, long ago
.”

“I love how you do that,” said Ben, falling in behind Henry as the path narrowed. “You whistle or you sing or you mumble what you’re feeling without realizing it. But look at how you walk.”

“What’s wrong with the way I walk?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just that it seems you’re trying to show how manly you are,” and, making fun of Henry’s walk, Ben strode past Henry, his arms pumping. “Such a manly walk.”

“Do I really do that?” Ben nodded, his crescent smile glowing. For a moment, Henry was insulted, but then he took a few more steps before a thought hit him. “You know,” he said, “when I was eight or nine I determined to change the way I walked to show that I was as tough as anyone. One of the town bullies said I walked like a namby-pamby.”

“And so you changed the way you walk?”

“I did. It took me a while, but I did. And he stopped saying it. . . . Lord, it’s amazing what we do to compensate for someone’s cruel remarks.” Henry’s head whirled with thoughts and ideas, sentences and phrases. “You make me want to write poems.”

“That’s because I’m your lover,” said Ben. Henry’s chest swelled with pride, and then all of a sudden Ben tore off his clothes.

“What are you doing?” said Henry.

Totally naked and erect, Ben said, “Come on you manly man,” and pulled down Henry’s trousers and pulled him down onto him and, laughing, they made passionate love on the forest floor. And after Henry ejaculated inside Ben, and Ben ejaculated all over himself, they lay in each other’s arms.