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move again if I had any choice in the matter. He spoke to me in nonsense words as he
drifted, and I hummed into his skin. I knew he felt it because he began to rock in time, just
fractionally, moving his body to my little tune. I think it was The Polonaise.
You make music all the time. He sighed.
I nodded.
What fucking irony.
I expelled a breath of laughter and nodded again. I could feel him smile against my
skin.
It will make a good story later on. I could tell he was drifting away; he always fell
asleep first.
What? I tapped his face and when his eyes opened, I asked, What story?
Our story. Yours and mine.
That made me smile. It was the first time since I d held a Hot Wheels in my hands that
I showed my naked pleasure to another guy.
52 Z. A. Maxfield
Chapter Nine
I could hear the kitchen starting up and smell the beginnings of breakfast cooking.
Oscar must have been in, sautéing onions and celery, and probably had stock simmering. I
was in Jim and Albert s office, signing my way through foods: pizza, spaghetti, and tacos. I
wasn t registered in my class yet so I was working from the ASL Browser, learning what I
could from the list of words there. It seemed impossible to me. I tried not to think about how
many words there were; I just concentrated on one at a time. I also took the opportunity to
send e-mails to my family, who appeared to be relieved I was alive.
I wanted to send something to my sister Julie especially. Julie answered immediately
with big virtual hugs and a picture of her little coffeehouse, Hallowed Grounds. We d
exchanged infrequent e-mails in the past, mostly from library computers, or when I d borrow
a little cyber time from hook-ups. I usually dashed off very brief or even instant messages.
She seemed relieved to know where she could reach me. I even gave her the phone number
of the bar in case she needed me or had news about our folks that couldn t wait.
I tried to explain Santo Ignacio, but there were no words. I only said that I had found a
job and a place to stay, and that I was happy. Julie would understand.
Julie had been the one to hold me when I d puked and cried. Julie had attended the
family counseling sessions at Hazelden in my parents stead. Julie had been there when I got
out of rehab, waiting with balloons and flowers, and had returned home shocked and alone
when I d gotten on my Harley and roared off toward the Pacific. Seven million and fucking
one amends to make.
Thinking, I sat with my eyes closed for a minute, and before I opened them, a pair of
strong hands found the knots that were building in my shoulders, between the blades.
I reached back and found Shawn s face and pulled him in for a kiss. He didn t speak. I
pressed my cheek against his newly shaven one and held it there. He smelled like limes, I
St. Nacho s 53
guess from his shaving cream, and I wanted to start something. He brushed against me and
left. I knew he had classes and Kevin was probably waiting outside. I logged off the computer
and went to help in the kitchen.
Oh, hey, m hijo, said Oscar. Let me make you a cup of coffee with a little foam heart
on the top.
Tomas grinned and joined in. I thought maybe we should just peel him some grapes,
papi, he teased. Shawn looked pretty happy when he left just now.
I make him happy, I said, gathering a big bowl of garlic to peel and chop. Cause I m
all that and a bag of chips. I waved the chef s knife around a little.
Yeah, m hijo, buffalo chips.
Are you talking to me? I asked.
Watch it, papi, said Tomas. Boy s got a knife.
I can see we re having fun this morning, said Jim, who went to get himself some
coffee. Are we waving knives around this early? Must be spring. So, how s our tattooed love
god? Shawn left you a message. He grinned, and I got a bad feeling about it.
What? I asked, and all three of them leaped on me, knife forgotten, and kissed my
face.
Jeez! I said. Watch it; somebody s going to be a eunuch, man. I laughed but felt my
face burn.
Holy crap, said Jim, staring. If I hadn t seen it for myself, I wouldn t have believed
it.
What? I started on the garlic, figuring the peppers would wait and I d have to use
gloves with them anyway, which I hate.
You laughed. And blushed. He took a chip that Oscar pulled from the fryer and
waved it around, blowing on it. Santo Ignacio, man, it s in the water. He left the kitchen.
What s that supposed to mean? I asked Tomas, who shrugged and dumped the tortilla
chips into the chilaquile sauce.
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