Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?

Dreams of loneliness…

Like a heartbeat, drives you mad

In the stillness of remembering what you had…

And what you lost…

And what you had…

And what you lost.

--Dreams, Fleetwood Mac.

 

The lingering of Obsidian

By Zenia

 

He was pulled rudely from sleep when Rick, with a bounce, sat on his bed.  He peeked his head from under the covers. “What the—Rick!”

 

“Get up.”

 

“What?” AJ peered at the clock. “It’s five in the morning.  I have an hour.  Go away.”

 

“No, you got fifteen minutes.  Get up, get dressed and pack.”

 

“Pack?” He sighed. “What are you talking about?”

 

“We’re going on a trip.” Rick smiled.

 

“This is a dream right?  I’m having a dream.  No, make that a nightmare.” AJ rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

 

“C’mon.  Up and at ‘em.”

 

“Rick I can’t go on a trip.  I have school today.”

 

“I’ll give you a note.  I’ll tell them you caught the Malaysian flu or something.” He tapped his brother’s nose with his finger.  Then he pulled the blankets from AJ. “You’ll like this, I promise.  Pack something for tomorrow, oh and some nice clothes.”

 

AJ rolled out of bed and moved slowly to the bathroom. “Of all the brothers in the world I had to get one that’s insane,” he mumbled.

 

********************

 

AJ was behind him on the bike, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.  It was heaven; the bike between his legs, the young pliant body pressed against his back, and the air against his face.

 

It was sheer recklessness and he needed it.  Needed it like a drug.  Take AJ to Mexico and maybe, maybe everything would be all right.

 

Everything was going too fast: fear and desire and—and love that was too strong.  Too strong to be stopped, to be ignored.  At night it left him aching to slip inside that sleepy body, to—

 

But it was more than that, more than sex.  It was wanting to feel AJ in his arms, hear him breathe, know that he was there, safe, loved.  Because love was the most important thing, more important than air and water and food.  It never left, that need to touch warm skin, to know that someone was there to catch you, to pick you up off the ground and dust you off.  Not having air or water or food, that could only kill you, but not having love, well that bruised and battered and destroyed the soul.  And there was nothing worse than that.

 

Nothing.

 

Rick felt AJ press his face into his back, the warmth of his breath making it past his shirt.  He shivered and concentrated on the road.

 

He pushed the bike’s speed past ninety.

 

**********

 

Rick stopped a couple hours past the border in Mexico.  A small little town, dirt streets, buildings, that to AJ’s eyes looked in shambles.

 

His brother was looking at the house in front of them, small and white, a little girl played in the front yard.”

 

AJ reluctantly slid off the bike, missing, for one sharp moment, the feel of Rick in his arms. “What are we doing here?”

 

 “I want you too meet a couple of friends.” He smiled and walked towards a small white house. “Anita!”

 

The girl looked up and smiled. “Rick.”  She ran to him and hugged him tightly about the waist. “Rosalinda was worried, she didn’t think you were going to come.”

 

“I promised.  I always keep my promises.” He stroked the girl’s hair. “Oh, I brought someone.  AJ, come meet Anita.  Anita, this is my brother AJ.”

 

“Hi.” He waved awkwardly.

 

Anita blushed and ran inside.

 

Rick tousled his hair. “You’re a heartbreaker kid.”

 

He opened his mouth but before he could say anything a tall man and an elderly woman walked out of the house.

 

“Rick, it’s about time hombre*.” He walked up and pulled him into a warm hug. “How are you my friend?” (*man)

 

“Coping.” Rick pulled away gently. “Manuel, I’d like you to meet my little brother, AJ.”

 

“You own the chop—the place that Rick worked before…before.” He looked away.

 

“Yes.” Manuel put a hand on his shoulder. “I am glad to finally meet you AJ.  You brother has told me much about you.  Welcome to my home.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Rick put an arm around his shoulders and let him to the woman. “AJ, this is Senora Montoya, Manuel’s mother-in-law.  Hola Nana*.” (*Hello grandmother.)

 

“Ricardo.” She touched AJ’s cheek. “Es muy guapo*.” (*He’s handsome)

 

“Si, muy guapo*.” Rick chuckled. (*Yes, very handsome.)

 

“Tienes hambre, mijo*?” (*Are you hungry, my son?)

 

AJ shook his head. “I’m sorry?”

 

“He doesn’t speak Spanish Nana.”

 

She clucked her tongue. “Are you hungry?  What am I saying?  You’re a growing boy, they are always hungry.  Come inside, we just made breakfast.  You too Ricardo.”

 

“Yes ma’am.  C’mon kid.  Don’t worry, they don’t bite…much.”

 

AJ scowled and followed him in.

 

**********

 

He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he was in the kitchen being given a plate of eggs and chorizo, beans, and tortillas.  They had a sense of family that he missed, of belonging.  They always made him feel that he belonged, even if he was just a gringo.

 

He could see that AJ was a bit overwhelmed at the people that came in and out of the kitchen, snatching food here and there before leaving, the children that played underfoot, laughing and crying and begging for food off their plates.  Rick closed his eyes and listened to the soft sound of their accents spill over him, the warmth and love in their voices that spoke of home.  Even if it wasn’t his home.

 

This was what he wanted AJ to see, to feel, with him.  That was what he wanted to recapture in himself, the sense of belonging to something bigger, belonging to family.  Reminding himself that it didn’t matter if the family had two people or twenty if the love was there.

 

The belonging.

 

Rick looked into the smiling eyes of his brother and felt the connection like a knife in his heart.  He reached out and took AJ’s hand hoping to communicate what he was feeling.

 

AJ squeezed his fingers and nodded.  He understood.

 

“So Ricky,” Manuel said, “Rosalinda wasn’t sure you would make it.”

 

“I wouldn’t miss her quincinera for the world.”

 

“Quincinera?” AJ pulled his hand away.

 

“She turns fifteen today.” Manuel smiled, fondly. “It’s much like a girl’s sweet sixteen.  Rosalinda becomes a woman.”

 

“Oh, it’s her birthday.” AJ looked at Rick. “We’re here for a birthday party?”

 

“Something like that kid, something like that.”

 

**********

 

After breakfast Rick left with Manuel to help set-up for the party.  AJ stacked up the dishes.

 

“No, no, no.” The woman Rick called Nana took the plates from his hands. “You are a guest.”

 

“I don’t mind, really.  Besides you cooked this wonderful breakfast, you should relax.” He smiled at her.

 

She laughed. “Do you always use that smile to get what you want?”

 

AJ blushed.

 

“We will let Anita and the other children clean the kitchen.  You can talk to me while we wait for Manuel and your brother.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” He followed her out into the living room.

 

“I am sorry about your mother.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” He shrugged. “Thank you.”

 

“It is good that you have your brother.  He loves you very much.”

 

“I love him very much.”

 

“How is he,” she asked.

 

AJ looked at her. “Okay I guess.  It’s hard to tell with Rick.  He keeps so much inside.”

 

“Yes, he is a difficult man to understand.  Manuel is like that.  When my daughter died, he tried to hide himself from the world.  They are both good men.” She stroked his hair from his face.

 

He closed his eyes, feeling the tears burn in his eyes. “He wants me to forget her.  That’s why we came.  He wants me to forget, but I can’t.  I can’t forget.”

 

“No, not forget, remember.  He wants you to remember, remember the love, the laughter.   Remember her with joy.”

 

“I can’t.” He shook his head.

 

“Yes you can.  I will tell you about my daughter and then you will tell me about your mother.”

 

“I can’t, I can’t.”

 

“Shh.” She clasped him gently as he cried.

 

**********

 

Rick leaned up against the refreshment table, nursing a beer and watching AJ dance with Anita.  When he had gotten back AJ had been strangely quiet, eyes haunted.

 

He had asked him what was wrong, but the kid just shook his head.  Rick hated the somber AJ that kept popping up.  He was too serious for fifteen.

 

Thank God for Anita.  The shy little girl sensed something was wrong and spent the better part of the day flirting with him.  During Mass she had sat next to him, holding one of his hands in her lap.

 

Now, now she was holding onto him, making him swing her in a circle.

 

Beautiful, he was too damned beautiful.  Sweaty and flushed, hair sticking up in wet spikes, laughing, face red from exertion and the sun.  And the sun, glinting off his hair. Rick imagined he must look like that after…after making love.

 

“I think he may have to marry her.”

 

He turned to Manuel. “AJ has that affect on women.”

 

“Hm.” Manuel stared at the dancing people. “And what about you?”

 

Rick took a sip of beer. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“The boy looks at you in ways that he shouldn’t.  And you encourage him.” Manuel touched is shoulder. “He is your brother.”

 

“Your full of it.”

 

“Rick—”

 

“He scared Manuel, scared and lonely.  What am I supposed to do?” He looked away.

 

“Send him away.”

 

“That would kill him.”

 

“No, that would kill you.  AJ is your brother and he should not look at you that way.”

 

“I love him.”

 

“It is far easier to destroy loved ones than it is to destroy strangers.”

 

Rick stared at the dancing figure of his brother. “I love him.”

 

“Then take care.”

 

“He’s all I have Manuel.”

 

“I know.  Don’t you think I know?  My daughter is no longer a child.  I wish Helena were alive to see her.”

 

“Yeah, me too.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking about Manuel’s situation, or his.

 

 

Later that night Rick lay awake a long time, watching AJ sleep.  The boy’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose were bright red.  Rick placed his hand against AJ’s hot back, letting his fingers trace the soft, smooth skin, trailing along the bumps of the spine, up to the back of the neck, then down, meeting the soft fabric of his shorts.

 

AJ shifted and murmured his name.

 

Rick brushed the hair from his little brother’s face. “I love you AJ.”

 

“Love you too Rick,” he whispered, sleepily, rubbing his face against Rick’s shoulder.

 

Rick let his hand rest against the small of AJ’s back and closed his eyes.

 

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