Once I was seated, the real awkwardness began. Charles and I started to speak, but each time we opened our mouths at exactly the same moment. We would laugh and blush, then wait for the other to say something, and finally try to talk again with the same results. Marta watched in silence as long as she could.
“Guys, I'm starting to feel like I'm back in the fourth grade,” she blurted in exasperation. “Charles has been lusting over you since the beginning of the semester,” she told me. “I told him to ask you to the festival, but he wasn't sure he could control himself around you, so he made me come along for the ride.”
“MARTA!” Charles cried out as she said all that. He blushed so intensely red, his face could have stopped traffic a quarter mile away. God, he's cute when he does that.
“Charles, I bailed on your plan for me to act like your girlfriend because I caught Mr. Big Top here checking you out in the car,” Marta announced, starting my protests.
“I did not!” She glared at me. “Ok, but only once,” I confessed as I started halting traffic myself.
“That doesn't count how many times he has ogled your butt since we got to town,” Marta added.
“I do not ogle,” I defended. They were both staring at me now. “I might have leered a few times, but I never ogled.” Marta rolled her eyes, but Charles giggled like a schoolboy and blushed even more.
“There isn't this much sap in the whole Kisatchie National Forest,” Marta complained.
“I think it's sweet,” Charles said bashfully.
“I've heard enough,” Marta said forcefully. She turned to glare at me with deadly cold expression. “The dumb blond here has already proven that he falls for the sweet talkers, so I'm going to have to protect him. Do you want a relationship with Charles or are you just looking for a sex toy?”
“Marta!” Charles gasped again.
“That's a fair question,” I said as calmly as I could. “I don't think I just want a sex toy,” I told them both. “I really feel like Charles and I are developing a lasting friendship and maybe more today. The immediate truth, however, is that I do think about sex when I see him. I want my first time to be with someone really special, and I hope that Charles is that someone.”
“Why the hell are the only romantic guys gay?” Marta demanded. “Ok, you two have my permission to date, but....” Here she got close to my face and looked deeply into my eyes. “If you hurt Charles, in any way, I will see you rot in hell even if I have to go with you to do it.”
“Don't mind Butchzilla, she's just a little overprotective,” Charles said with a smirk.
“Butchzilla?!? I know you did not just go there, little boy.”
“Well, you are more butch than me,” he grinned innocently.
“While that is true, Barney is also more butch than you,” Marta retorted.
“Hey, don't diss the dinosaur!” I scolded.
“What?” Marta gasped, staring at me as if I had three heads. “How did I wind up with two Barney loving fairies in my life?”
“Because we love each other,” I responded with a wink to Charles. “I love you, you love me....” I began singing. Charles joined in and we sandwiched Marta between us as we swayed back and forth with the rhythm of the song.
“Let me go, you sickos,” Marta demanded. We sang louder. Several little kids around us started singing along as well. “I'm going to scream. No, I'm going to puke. That's it, I'm going to throw up all over both of you.”
“You do and you walk back to school,” I told her firmly. She looked at me in shock.
“I think you're serious,” she finally admitted.
“You're darned right I'm serious,” I confirmed. “If you throw up on me, I'll start puking and then I won't be able to drive us back to school.”
“If we don't change the topic, I won't be responsible,” Charles warned us. His face was now as green as it had been red a moment ago.
“He has a weak stomach,” Marta stage whispered to me. “This one time in Chemistry class.....”
“That's enough, Marta,” Charles snapped, but he didn't look as serious as he sounded. “I will thank you to wait until we are officially together before you start trying to scare him off.”
“I don't think she can scare me away from you now,” I told him. I grinned myself as I continued, “Or were you saying that she was the scary one, 'cause that I'd agree with.”
“You sir, are no gentleman,” Marta said as she stuck her tongue out at me.
“Oh, that was ladylike,” Charles laughed sarcastically. She flipped him off.
“Here now, none of that,” I told her quickly. “There will be no lewd propositioning of Charles. He's mine now.”
“I'm nobody's property!” Charles blurted angrily as he jumped to his feet and stormed off.
“Charles, wait!” I called out after him.
“Let him go,” Marta advised. “He'll realize that you didn't mean it. When he does, he'll come back.”
“But I don't understand,” I told her. “What did I say? What did I not mean?” The look of hurt that I had just seen in Charles' face was like a knife stabbing me in the heart.
“I can't tell you,” Marta said apologetically. “They're his secrets to keep or tell.”
“I just wanted to know what I did,” I said weakly. “I have to know what I did to cause him pain, because I never want to do it again.”
“You really do have it bad for each other, don't you?” she asked. I could tell she didn't really need an answer so I didn't give her one. It was pretty obvious how I felt about Charles now. She patted me on the arm as she stood up and said, “You didn't do anything. You stay here, and I'll go find the drama queen.”
“I should go too if it was something I said,” I pointed out.
“Sit your ass here,” she ordered. “First of all, you wouldn't know where to look. Second, you'd wind up getting yourself lost and then I would have to hunt you down as well. Third, and this is most important, we would lose our place for the fireworks.” She softened her tone and expression as she added, “I'll bring him back to you, I promise.”
Marta walked away then, leaving me alone, more alone than I had ever felt, even when I was put into the Children’s Home. The crowd of people around me were completely inconsequential. Charles was not with me, therefore I was alone. My mind rebelled against that emotion. I couldn't possibly feel that way this soon, could I? I barely knew Charles. He was practically a stranger. What did I really know about him?
“Weren't you with Charles Langtry earlier?” I looked up into the face of a woman old enough to be my mother. She looked as if she had just seen something disgusting as she stared down at me. I stood to put myself on more level terms with her. Without waiting for my response, she continued. “You tell that boy that he's not welcome in this town as far as I'm concerned. I see him again, and I will make him pay for what he did to me.” She turned and stormed off, leaving me wondering what was going on.
“Don't you pay Ida Mae no mind, sonny,” an older woman sitting near me told me. “It wasn't poor little Charlie that was at fault there. He was just an innocent boy, until that husband of hers got hold of him.”
“I don't understand,” I confessed to this stranger. I thought it odd that this woman was wearing men's denim bib overalls and a black mink coat, but I had to talk to someone. “I don't know what's going on in this town today, but I am getting really confused. I barely even know Charles.”
“Well, it don't look like that situation is going to last long the way you two pups were playing with one another just a minute ago,” the old woman said pointedly. I felt my mouth open and I fell back onto the blanket. “Don't fret so, little one,” she told me as she scooted closer to me. “I got a grandson like you two. He left these parts years ago for San Francisco. He's better off than all the rest of the kids put together now. He's an interior designer out there.”
“Can you explain what I'm missing here?” I asked her. “I feel like the whole town knows something that I don't and it seems it's something I should know, but I don't.”
“Like Little Marta told you, young fellow, Charles's secrets are his own to keep or tell, when it comes to folks like you,” she told me. “You're right though, pretty much everybody in this town does know what happened, or we at least what we think happened. I can't tell you more about that as it wouldn't be fair to little Charlie. What I can tell you is that there is a lot of folks in this town that like young Charlie a whole lot,” she said seriously. “More than that sweet boy realizes. We all knew he was a bit different, but these ain't the old days. We understand a lot more than Yankees give us credit for. We know it weren't nothing that sweet little boy could do but be his self just the way he is.”
“Do you really mean that, Mrs. Arsenault?” We both looked up to see Charles standing at the edge of the blanket.
“Have you ever known me to lie to you, Charlie Langtry?” He shook his head slowly. “All right then, set your little butt down here and give your old Aunt Della a hug. At my age, how many gorgeous men can I get on a blanket with me for the festival?”
“Well, you've got one this year,” I said, indicating Charles.
“You're the good looking one,” Charles blushed.
“By my counts, there's two of you, now shut up and let an old woman watch the show,” Mrs. Arsenault said harshly, but with a smile.
“Thank you, Aunt Della,” Charles said as he gave the woman the hug she had asked for.
“That means a hug from you too,” Mrs. Arsenault said looking directly at me. I leaned over toward her and she grabbed me in a bone crushing grip. My ribs weren't the only thing she was gripping though. I jumped back and rubbed my butt where she had pinched me.
“Charlie, you sure know how to pick 'em,” the old woman cackled. “This one's a keeper for sure if that butt of his is any indication. I assume that is an attraction for boys like you,” she said as she stared at the two of us. We both blushed as she continued to laugh.
“Della, leave the boys alone,” another old woman scolded as she walked up.
“Ruthell, you've been telling me that since we were children, and it hasn't stopped me yet,” Mrs. Della replied. “When are you going to leave me alone and let me have fun?”
“When you act your age,” Ruthell replied.
“You're a fine one to talk,” Della snorted. “Need I remind you of that scene in the cemetary?”
“Della, that was years ago, are you going to let me live it down?”
“Hell no,” Della told her. “You told somebody to knock my lights out. That is not the behavior of a lady.”
“Like you would know what that is,” Ruthell laughed as she and Della strolled away into the crowd.
“Bye boys,” the two women called out.
“Are they always like that?” I asked Charles once they were out of earshot.
“I'm told they were born like that,” Charles said with a smile at their retreating backs.
“Wait a minute!” I exclaimed.
“Well, they did say in the credits that the movie was based on a true story, didn't they?” Charles asked me with a grin.
“Did those two actually go into the boy's locker room like in the movie?” I had to ask.
“They still do,” he confirmed. “Mrs. Ruthell still owns the radio station, and Mrs. Della always goes with her. The boys are used to it by now, but they don't let Mrs. Della take her purse in anymore. She snuck a camera in one year,” he explained with a laugh.
“I might have known you two would be all made up again by the time I found you again.” We looked up to see Marta sit down beside us. “I'm surprised to see you sitting down though,” she said looking at me. When she saw the question on my face, she continued. “I just saw Mrs. Ruthell and Mrs. Della. Mrs. Ruthell was wondering how badly your butt was bruised from the pinch Mrs. Della gave you.” At my shocked expression, Marta just smiled. “It's a small town, there are no secrets.”
“Yes there are,” I told her. “There's at least the one that everyone but me knows.” I turned to Charles and immediately apologized. “I don't mean to push you, but it just seems that literally everyone in this town knows something about you that I don't.”
“I think I'll go hunt for someone else,” Marta said standing up.
“You don't have to go,” Charles told her.
“You don't need an audience for this,” she replied.
“I know,” Charles murmured. “That's why I was going to see if Jeremy wanted to go for the walk this time.”
“Charles, I told you, I don't want to push you,” I told him. “I can wait until you're ready.”
“If we are going to be together, you should know about me,” he said, but the way he said it made it almost seem like he was a criminal who had just been given the death sentence.
“It won't change how I feel about you, Charles,” I promised him. “If you want to tell me now, fine; if you want to wait forty years, that's fine too.”
“I don't want you to hear it from someone else,” Charles said quietly. “Not everyone in this town will be as nice as Mrs. Della or Mrs. Ruthell.”
I got up and followed him up the river hill and down the street passed Nylene's Curl Up and Dye Again. Charles laughed as I pointed at the building with my jaw dropped. He teased me about being easily impressed. I copied Marta and stuck my tongue out at him. A girl about our age was walking by and saw it. She told Charles that I must have already met Marta. We both laughed.
My heart raced at the sound of his laughter, the sight of his smile. My breath caught in my throat as he turned to me with his icy blue eyes twinkling. He looked into my face and then suddenly blushed and looked away.
“What was that about?” I quizzed.
“What was what about?” he returned as innocently as he could.
“You know perfectly well, Charles Langtry,” I scolded gently. “What was that blush for?”
“I was just thinking if you did get a bruise from Mrs. Della, I would be happy to..... ummm.... well.... Never mind what it was about, ok?” he blurted.
“You would what?” I pushed. “Would you kiss my boo boo better?” I asked in a little kid voice. I swear he blushed from head to toe. “You are so incredibly cute when you do that,” I whispered.
“You're cute all the time,” he whispered back as he blushed even more. God, I had never been so attracted to anyone in my life. I couldn't stop myself. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into a nearby alleyway. I pulled him close to me and bent my head toward his. Just as our lips were about to touch, we heard someone clearing their throat loudly. We looked around to see a policeman standing on the sidewalk a few feet away looking at us.
“What are you boys doing back there?” he called out. He took a step closer and his expression suddenly changed. “Didn't recognize you at first Charlie,” he said softly. “Ain't seen you since you left for school, boy. You keeping yourself out of trouble at that college of yours?”
“Yes sir,” Charles replied meekly.
“That's good to hear,” the officer nodded. “Why don't you boys step a little further back in the alley there and go back to what you were doing? Won't nobody see you from here then.” He walked away, but the mood was definitely broken for the two of us.
“I never thought that I would hear a southern cop telling me it was okay to kiss my boyfriend in an alley before,” I mumbled as we stepped back out onto the street.
“Well, Jenkins isn't the typical southern cop,” Charles mused. He stopped walking suddenly and looked at me in wonder. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course I did,” I said simply. “The stereotypes of rednecks.....”
“That's not what I'm talking about, Jeremy,” he said interrupting me. “Did you mean it when you called me your boyfriend?”
“Ummm.... well.... Yeah, I mean if that's what you want too,” I confessed as I felt myself imitate a stop sign again. This time he grabbed me and pulled us into an alley. He went to the back of the alley and around a corner though, into a little niche in the side of one of the buildings. We had no interruptions this time.