CARTER'S VANGUARD: WILLIAM CARTER
II
Chapter 08 - By Christopher Patrick Lydon
Andrew found Will outside. He had been picking out a small plate
full of sandwiches when he noticed Will wasn't eating. To be suddenly thrust
into a social situation with his father had to be really upsetting for Will.
Despite all his claims of being happily independent, there was still a lot
of pain left behind by his father's complete rejection of who he was.
Andrew leaned on the balcony rail and extended the plate of
sandwiches under Will's nose. "Eat," he said firmly, worriedly touching
the small of Will's back.
Will tiredly rubbed his eyes; he was halfway towards drunk,
which was what happened when he wasn't used to drinking. He had retreated
from the main party out onto the veranda to get away from the falseness of
it all. The game of happy family his Aunt insisted on putting on for his grandmother.
As if his grandmother wasn't smart enough to see straight through it.
Andrew looked down over the gardens towards the road where cars
zipped by. They could make a run for it, hop in the car and speed up the gravel
driveway, but the Mustang was blocked in by a couple of other cars and a Dodge
truck; if they'd thought it through they would have parked out on the street
for an easy getaway.
Andrew sighed, looking back at the house behind them. "Your
grandmother seems really nice," he offered, stealing one of the sandwiches,
noticing Will hadn't touched them.
Will nodded, still staring over the garden as the evening descended
steadily towards night. Sunset touched the low clouds and burnt them orange
red, like a fire spreading across heaven. Behind them the music from the party
switched to something slow, beautiful.
Andrew slipped his hand from the small of Will's back to encircle
his waist, drawing him closer to him. "Come on, don't worry about it.
We'll be fine."
"There you are," a boisterous voice exclaimed from
the doorway. Uncle Hubert, Arthur's elder brother, staggered out of the house,
typically one or two of the other cousins in tow as he moved the party outside
onto the veranda.
He walked up beside Will and clapped him on the shoulder, the
ash from his cigar falling as he gestured with his other hand. "Soon
be done school; you must be excited to go to university and show that son-of-a-bitch
dad of yours what you can really do."
Will stiffened, and Andrew felt him tense beneath his embrace,
he wasn't sure what had sparked Will's sudden anger, but he knew well enough
to head it off before Will cut loose.
"Hubert." Andrew had to grin, the way the name was
pronounced with a heavy French pronunciation made it sound more like 'He-Bear.'
Which for any one who grew up in the mid-nineteen-eighties and saw the he-man
cartoons... well, picturing a bear in a loincloth would make anyone smile.
"Andrew." Hubert grinned, switching his attention
to Andrew, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and turning him to the other
cousins, "How's that mother of yours? Still as sharp-tongued as ever,
I bet..." Hubert cackled as he squeezed Andrew close to him, "This
young man set a record for goal-scoring last year, before UNB snatched him
away for their varsity team..." He turned, "How'd this season go
for you?"
Andrew glanced behind him, noticing that Will was missing and
he searched vainly around the veranda for him. He slipped out of Hubert's
grip, "Excuse me, I have to find Will."
"Will's a big boy," Hubert insisted. "Come, we
want to hear all about your year."
Andrew held up a finger, "Let me get a rain check on that,
Mister Aube, I will be right back." And he darted down the wooden steps
out into the yard, wishing that Arthur and Majella had installed yard lights
at some point. He was never very good at finding his way in the dark.
The Aube's yard was huge, backing onto a couple of acres of
woodland, a barn squatting on the edge of the property overlooking a small
stream. It seemed like the most likely place for a young Brit to run to when
he wanted to be alone.
The old barn door rattled as he let himself in, thankful to
find that there was a single dim electric bulb lighting the barn. It wasn't
used anymore, not for animals. A large truck sat on blocks in an obvious state
of disrepair, as well as a large number of crates arranged around for storage.
"Will?" he called out quietly, trying to peer deeper
into the barn and not seeing much in the shadows.
"Up here," Will called out, startling Andrew as he
spun to look up at the young Brit sitting with his feet dangling from the
hayloft.
"What are you doing up there?" Andrew asked in confusion.
It was an odd sight; Will was one of those people who just never looked right
in a rural setting, especially not dressed up to the nines. But there he sat,
chewing on a bit of straw, looking down at him sadly.
"Sorry, I just had to get away from it. Uncle Hubert is
a bit much."
"He means well," Andrew said, clambering up the ladder
and resting on the top rung. "He is just a bit too over-enthusiastic."
"You know my family better than I do." Will replied
softly, leaning down so his head was level with Andrew's as he stood on the
ladder.
"Hubert and Arthur have both worked at the rink since before
I can remember," Andrew said with a simple shrug. "Hubert runs the
YMCA that owns the rink. You know, the sports center and stuff."
Will nodded, "Yeah, I know, just..." He sighed, "Sorry,
I'm just not very good with the whole family thing, I shouldn't have dragged
you into all this."
Andrew sighed, "But I am involved, I'm your boyfriend,
it's all part of the job description. Besides I get a great benefits package."
Will raised a quizzical eyebrow as Andrew leaned in to kiss
him on the tip of his nose. So gently intimate, so personal to them. Will
leaned forward and returned the kiss, a light peck on Andrew's cheek that
drew out as Andrew turned into it. Both young men kissing in the barn, Andrew
precariously balanced on a ladder.
He broke the kiss and looked down, "Much more of that and
I'll fall."
"Let's go home," Will said hopefully. "I can
cook something to eat and we can watch TV or something..."
"But what about your family?" Andrew asked. "Won't
they get upset with you?"
Will chuckled, "They already view me as the black sheep,
what's one more black mark against my name?"
Andrew nodded and vanished as he slid down the ladder holding
onto the sides. Had it been a wooden one his hands would be blistered, but
it was a metal stepladder. On the floor, he dusted himself off, watching Will
tentatively start down, shakily taking each step.
"You're afraid of heights," Andrew realized with a
grin.
"You didn't know that?" Will asked in surprise. "I
thought everyone knew." He reached the bottom and brushed himself off,
grinning shyly.
Andrew stepped in again, reaching out to remove Will's glasses.
"There's still so much I don't know about you," he said as he kissed
Will once more. "Come on, let's get out of here."
They slipped from the barn and hurried towards the car, coming
up short when Andrew remembered that he was boxed in. He looked at Will apologetically,
"We're going to have to go back in." He sounded depressed.
Will nodded mutely as they climbed back up the steps to the
veranda where Uncle Hubert was regaling some of the young women with a tale
about his youth. He caught sight of the two returning and grinned.
"Glad you decided to come back," he said with a wink.
"And where did you two disappear off to?"
"A walk along the stream," Will said thinking quickly.
Hubert reached up and pulled a strand of straw from Will's hair;
without saying a word he flicked it off the veranda and winked suggestively
to the girls. They giggled in unison, and Will felt his cheeks burning.
"What?" Andrew said with a grin, throwing an arm over
Will's shoulders, daring anyone to say anything. His blue eyes glittered as
they moved from cousin to cousin, each falling silent as they suddenly realized
that they weren't being all that funny.
Hubert decided to change the subject, "So, Andrew, have
you found a summer job yet?"
Andrew sighed, "No Mister Aube, not yet; I wasn't really
looking..."
"Well, every boy your age should have something to do during
the summer," he glanced at Will, "other than walks along streams."
He looked back, "I hire students at the Y every summer; it's long hours
but I can use the help."
Andrew shrugged, "I don't know, Mister Aube..."
"I could use someone like you to help coach the hockey
summer camp when it starts up." Hubert dangled the offer in front of
Andrew, knowing full well what kind of temptation that was.
"Hockey Camp doesn't start till the end of school,"
Andrew said thoughtfully. "What would I do until then?"
"There's plenty to do, I'll find you something," Hubert
said as he looked back to the girls. "So, as I was saying..."
Andrew surmised that he was supposed to think about it, but
he shuffled it to the back of his mind as he looked at Will, who seemed overtly
eager to get as far away from the party as he could. Such a bundle of nerves
whenever he was anywhere near his father, the emotional damage that had been
done there was a wound Andrew could do nothing to heal. All he could do was
offer all the love he could to Will in the hopes that it would fill the void
left when his father shattered his world.
Will, however, was made of sterner stuff than Andrew sometimes
gave him credit for, and they both reentered the party. Andrew stepped off
to find Arthur and ask about getting his car freed.
Arthur was pleasantly drunk, his bottle of rye nearly empty,
and he was searching for something decidedly stronger when Andrew found him.
He huffed a moment staring blankly at the young man standing near him, scratching
his beard trying to place him. Finally, when recognition lit up his eyes Andrew
started to make some progress.
"Did..did Hubert speak to you?" Arthur swallowed the
tail end of his drink. "About the coaching?"
Andrew nodded, "He did, Mister Aube; I was wondering about
the cars?"
"Huh?" Arthur gave him another blank stare, swaying
on his feet unsteady from the drink.
"The cars, Mister Aube," Andrew pressed helplessly,
looking about for someone more coherent to help him. Majella and some of the
women of the family were clustered in the kitchen discussing recipes of various
dishes, and most of the men were inebriated. Andrew frustratedly thrust his
hands into his pockets wondering how he was going to get Will out of there.
"What's the matter, Andrew dear?" old Mrs. Carter
asked, quietening the ladies down as she noticed him.
"My car's trapped, Mrs. Carter," Andrew replied, turning
to the old woman.
Grandmother Carter was an efficient woman; she took charge of
the situation like an old matron, issuing orders for the men to fork over
their keys, delegating to the wives that were sober the job of rearranging
the cars. Much to Majella's dismay, who seemed upset to have her party interrupted
because someone she didn't want there had decided to leave.
Andrew ignored her. Will needed to go, and that was all that
mattered to him. He wasn't about to let her inflict more of her misery upon
Will just to appease her.
Will for his part was keeping quietly to himself, his arms drawn
tightly about his frame. Not scared, just eager to leave. It just had to be
getting to him, and he just wanted to be away from it. That old fight-or-flight
instinct kicking in. It had been a bad idea to come. Andrew felt that someone
should have warned Will that the Major would be there.
In his own mind he was probably kicking himself for being so
juvenile. Andrew knew Will wasn't afraid, just uncomfortable, and that was
enough to make him want to be anywhere but right there right then. Andrew
could understand that, and he caught sight of Will's grandmother as she flashed
Will a concerned look, understanding all too well, even though it saddened
her greatly to see it.
The Major for his part, stone cold sober as always, sat and
watched the pantomime of wives running to move cars just to let his son go.
There was no smug look on his face, simply a look of disappointment like somehow
he expected more, and for a second his eyes met Andrew's across the room before
the Major made a decided show of turning away, returning his attention to
his wife.
Andrew touched Will's arm. "Let's go." he said softly,
guiding Will to the door.
