Not Done Yet - 9. Let Me Start Over

Let Me Start Over

Sam was in the driver seat, and James was riding shotgun in Mr. Reeves’ rusted-out pickup. The old truck’s shocks squeaked every time they hit a bump, and since the road wasn’t paved, the noise never stopped.

“Take it easy, Sam! I just got a new filling, and I don’t want to lose it ‘cause you’re racing down a goat path.” Right then, Sam hit a deep rut. While the truck lurched, James clutched the door handle and he let out a yelp. “I wish this thing at least had seat belts, so I didn’t have to worry about getting’ thrown out,” he yelled over the din.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the radio,” Sam shouted, holding the steering wheel tight, while he tried to avoid the worst of the washboard ruts they were bouncing over.

“What are you talking about? The radio’s not on!”

“I thought for sure all the racket was some of that music you’re always wanting me to listen to. You mean it’s not?” Sam glanced over, grinning wide, his eyes lit up in mischief.

James yelled, “Stop the truck!” When they stopped moving, James popped the stick out of gear, reached over and turned off the ignition. “You can shake my kidneys loose and sling my guts around on this game trail you call a road, but you will NOT insult my music.” He pulled out the key, opened his door and got out. “Slide over. I’m driving.” James walked around the back of the truck and got in behind the wheel. “Shoulda never offered to teach ya.”

Sam got quiet and frowned until he looked over at James, who was smirking. Softly, James said, “I’m just kiddin’, Sam. I’m happy to teach ya. Let’s get back to a real road. This is no way to learn. We can go to an empty parking lot, instead, so you don’t have to navigate this mine field.”

James started up the truck and put it in gear; they headed back to the paved road. “You’ve been kinda quiet lately. Something on your mind?”

Sam looked down at his hands, bouncing in his lap. “I’m just thinking about somebody. I really like her, but I don’t know how to let her know.”

James turned quick to avoid an especially nasty bump, and recovered, straightening the truck out again. “Well, it doesn’t get much simpler than that. Do you talk to her?”

“Yes.”

“Do you laugh at the same things?”

“Uh huh.”

“Seems to me, you don’t always have to say things right out. If you spend time together, and you enjoy the same things when you’re together, you can always say how much you enjoy doing what you’re doing, and how nice it is to be doing it together.”

“Oh.”

“What? Is there something else? Does she already have a boyfriend?”

“No, it’s not that. At least, I don’t think so. It’s just… she’s white, James.”

“So?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not.”

“You think that’s a problem for her?” He tapped the brakes to ease between the wheel ruts.

“I don’t think so, but you never know. Her daddy might not like it much.”

“Buddy, just take it one step at a time. Things work out. Not always the way we want, but things work out.”

“But –“

“Listen, Sam. If you like her, and she likes you back, who cares what anybody else thinks? If things get serious, you’ve got all the time in the world to win her daddy over. And if anybody can, it’s you. You’re good looking, smart, and a great guy all around. Well, except for that one thing—“

“What?!”

“Well, OK, maybe more than one -- you can’t ride a horse for squat. And you pick your nose with the wrong finger. Oh, and that chronic gas you get.”

James barely got his hand up in time to keep Sam from slapping him on the back of the head, and he started laughing at his friend. Then, he was laughing with him as they came to the paved road.

“Come on. Let’s get you home, so I can finish my rounds before I have to take Mr. Reeves’ truck back.”

“I can’t thank you enough for teaching me.”

“Don’t try. You’ll just owe me one later.”

*

Driving down the gravel road from his last stop, James was about to pass by the driveway, but something made him slow down and look. Lying on top of the snake-shaped wall, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, was Casey. He looked like he was asleep, so James pulled slowly past the drive and parked the truck on the road, shutting the door quietly. He walked back to the drive and crept over to the snake wall, Slither, like he was stalking a rabbit.

He was busy admiring Casey, laid out in the dappled sunlight, when a quiet voice spoke, “See anything ya like?” James shot his eyes back up to Casey’s face with a slight blush.

“No, no, it’s just… oh hell, let me just say it. What are you dressed up for? You don’t look like an Indian.” James smiled when he said it, remembering the first conversation he and Casey had, when he’d found Casey sleeping under a tree with a nasty bruise on his face. Casey had said the same thing back then.

They hadn’t talked to each other since the fire. They’d seen each other at school, locked eyes a few times, but they didn’t have any classes together. Somehow, with all the changes in Casey’s life, he and James hadn’t picked back up where they’d left off.

Casey sat up, and hopped down from the wall with a smile. When James stepped back, Casey stopped, dead still, and hung his head. When he looked back up, tears were running down his face. “James, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I’ve thought about you every single day for what seems like forever, but I’ve never had the balls to say anything.”

“What is there to say?” James raked his hair back and peered at Casey.

“You’re not making this any easier.”

James cocked his head to the side, and his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

“When I first ended up in a foster home, I found out you’d had something to do with me winding up here. I was scared spitless, and didn’t know what to think. I was so fucked up, somehow I twisted my being in a foster into being your fault, at first. If you just hadn’t lent me that stove, I mighta still been free, and coulda talked my sister into comin’ to get me. That kinda shit.”

James looked down, shifted his feet, then glared at Casey, but he didn’t say a word.

Casey looked right back at James and continued, “After a few days, I figured out just how lucky I was. Jim and Carol treated me more like a son than my own parents ever had. The guy from Children’s Protective Services told me what you did – how you talked Jim and Carol into fostering one more kid, and talked him out of just shipping me off to juvie. He told me what you did, talking to your grandfather, asking him to help. And I was ashamed. Ashamed to think I’d ever blamed you for a damn thing, even if it was only in my thoughts. You’ve been nothing but the best friend to me that you possibly could have.

“I’ve tried to ask Jim how to get in touch with you, but the words dried up in my mouth. I tried to walk up to you in school, but I just couldn’t. It shoulda been so easy, but I couldn’t. And the longer it’s been, the harder it’s seemed. I made the baseball team, and got so busy with school, work, here, the team, I’d forget about you for a while – a few minutes at first, then a couple hours, later. At least, I told myself I was busy. But I always came back to thinkin’ about you. It was the most important thing in my life, and I couldn’t face up to it.”

James stood there, quiet. His glare softened. He half raised his hand, trembling a little, and let it fall. He looked down at his feet, then back up at Casey. He took a hesitant step forward, then two, and reached out with both arms. Pulling Casey in tight, James cupped the back of the other boy’s head while Casey sobbed into his shoulder. James took in a long breath, full of the clean, warm scent, and fought to swallow in a dry throat and keep from crying, himself. He let out a soft sigh.

James held him for a couple of minutes, until Casey quieted and sniffed; James bent his head down and gently kissed Casey at the base of the neck. He rubbed the larger boy’s back, dropped his arms, and Casey took half a step back. He wiped his nose, then his cheeks, and sniffed again before he met James’ eyes, and just murmured, “Thanks.”

James stood still for a moment, before saying, “I’ve got to get going and return the truck to Mr. Reeves before sundown. But I’ll see you around, and I’ll make a point of walkin’ up to ya, if you don’t walk up to me…

“Casey –“

“Yeh?”

James fumbled with the keys hanging from his belt loop and seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say. “Umm…nothin’. I’ll see you in school.” James turned on his heel and walked down the drive.