28. I'm Not Going To Be Like These People, Rye.

It was harvest again, the first anniversary of Kevin and Curt sharing their first affection for each other. To mark its importance, Curt showed up at Kevin’s house, this time at 9 pm, for Kevin’s first field grain run of the night.

“Surprise!” Said Curt.

“How did you… Never mind. I’m so happy you’re here at 9 pm instead of 3 am.”

“Yeah, and I can go on all three runs, and we can spend the time in between, if you want.”

“Okay! I will cuddle you so hard. Beware!” said Kevin. “Okay, you have a coat this time. That’s good.

Charles Woodward was deep in the field when they reached the grain trailers. They didn’t have any interruptions, and this time at the grain elevator and semi, Curt climbed off the tractor and directly onto Kevin’s back. Kevin carried him around and ran around in circles before letting him down. Then they faced each other and gave each other a nice anniversary kiss.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you?” Kevin said softly.

“I do, but I still love hearing it,” Curt said. “I love you, too.

Kevin gave Curt a big hug.

“Do you think it will always be like this?” Curt asked.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Happy?”

“Rye. Talk to me about your concerns. Your skin gives you away when you worry.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. The texture of your skin toughens up, like you have goosebumps. See?”

Kevin brushed Curt’s arm with his hand.

“Does it feel any different to you? Anyway, what’s bothering you?”

“I guess because you are going away in a few months --”

“I’m not going away, but please continue.”

“Well, I’m going to see a lot less of you daily, and I have more pressure on me than ever.”

“I’m a phone call away. I can be here in an hour. I’m …ALWAYS… going to be here for you. I love you. … Plus, you’ll be busy at Saranac and competitions in your last few years.”

“Do you worry about anything?” Curt asked.

“I guess I’m more anxious than worried.”

“That sounds like you can’t wait to get away from me. You prick!” Curt laughed.

“No, I just mean anxious in a nervous way about who will be around you. Of course, you’ll have our friends and your sister, but even my friend Greer, who has only been in Chicago briefly, has heard about your success on the basketball court. He says the Meatheads are all talking about how hot you are, by the way.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Look, I will do whatever I need to make you happy. I know there’s a chance that I might not be a big part of all these big things happening to you, and I need you to know that I can make peace with it.”

“I’m confused. That sounds like you’re breaking up with me.”

“Rye, I’m not. I’m really not,” Kevin said, kissing the back of Curt’s hand. “I’m just failing to articulate how much I love you. I would step out of the spotlight for you if you asked me to. I would be crushed, okay maybe a little devastated, but I would do anything for you. Anything. Am I making any sense at all?”

“I think so, but I’m not asking you to step aside. I need you.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to upset you. I wanted you to know that you mean everything to me. I guess we need a plan. Why don’t we just focus on that instead? I'm emotional, so I’m not properly making my point.”

“I think I understand what you’re saying, and I can back up your thoughts, I think, by saying that I need you right now more than ever, but you need to go to Michigan State and start a life there for us where we can be free, unlike in Saranac.”

“I think we can be free in Saranac; it’s just risky for your career or even a scholarship right now.”

“Then I’ll give it up.”

“No, Rye. You can’t. I don’t want to argue in twenty years, and you have any room to say I ruined your career opportunities.”

“What did you just say to me? You would step aside for my happiness, right?”

“Yeah, I would.”

“Then let me have the option of getting out of your way.”

“You would give up basketball... for me?” Kevin asked tearfully.

“Well, I would give up the NBA.” They both chuckled. “I can still have a successful coaching career somewhere.”

“We have a lot of options.”

Once they finished the first grain run, they returned to the house and hung out on the sofa in the parlor.

“What options were you thinking?” Curt asked.

“Well, I could come back here and work in Grand Rapids. Honestly, I could probably work anywhere. You could maybe coach, and you could coach anywhere.”

“All nice ideas. I’m open to whatever, not to get too far ahead.”

“Nah,” said Kevin. “The point is that we have options. We just need to decide what path to take.”

“Why don't we start with: What is the rest of your family like?”

“Oh.”

Kevin wasn’t sure he wanted Curt to know. He might run for the hills. He sat silently wondering for a moment what to say, because it was a lot.

“What?” Asked Curt.

“Well, it’s a novella, if you’re sure you want to hear it,” Kevin offered.

“I do,” said Curt. “Tell me?”

The Woodwards

“Okay, oh man. I’m going to regret this; I just know it.” Kevin walked Curt to the wall where all the family photos were hung. “This is the family house, so this wall keeps getting added to.”

“First, there are my grandparents, Dick and Odella Woodward. Those are my dad’s parents. They lived in this house until something happened that I’ll get to in a minute. They were notorious for cheating on each other. Everyone was surprised when they got married, I’m told.

My dad, Charles, was the firstborn. Then there was Singer, who’s kind of loopy but also dull, somehow. She lives on the West Coast now, in California. Within two years, there was Bess. She lives in Knoxville, is a family mechanic, and is the only one who’s very good at farming. She’s on her second husband who is very effeminate and a physical therapist/nurse. No one asks questions. If you need your car fixed, she's your guy. That’s where anything resembling normal abruptly stops.

Some time passed, and my macabre twin aunts, Janey and June, were born. They look like mirror-image undead murder dolls, with gaping mouths and huge gaps in their teeth. No one knows for sure if my grandfather is biological to them, and they are both vapid souls with a touch-and-go relationship with reality. I doubt you’d ever meet them. They are both super weird, and they creep me out.

My youngest uncle is Tommy. He’s super sweet, looks very nervous, will always be interested in everything you have to say, and won’t stop talking about the more profound meaning and the importance of the song “Cat’s in the Cradle.’ He’s always sick and has severe diabetes. He’s the only one in the family who has it.”

“So why did they leave Michigan if the legacy farm is so important?” Curt asked.

“Well, good timing because you’ll notice that the last three kids don’t look like the first three, right?”

“Right. Okay.”

“Well, my grandmother, Odella, had several affairs, as did my grandfather.” Kevin walked over to pick up a family photo album. “Tell me what you see in this photo.” Kevin held it up next to the photo of Tommy.

“Oh wow. So that’s Tommy’s father? Who is he?” Curt asked.

“My grandfather’s sister is Doris; her husband is Roddy.” He looked at Curt, waiting for him to put the puzzle together. “Roddy is always sick, and he has severe diabetes.”

“Oh no. No. No. No…. Kev!” Curt’s mouth dropped open. “She had an affair with her brother-in-law?!”

Kevin scanned Curt’s face to assess if he was still on board or if he might bolt for the door.

"So that's why they had to leave town, she messed up the family dynamics," Curt finally had his eureka moment.

“Yeah. Never let a legacy family in Ionia County try to make you believe they are better somehow than a worker. All legacy families seem to have skeletons in every closet of the house. I’ll give you another one: My grandfather hired the singer when my parents married in 1966. She was 7 months pregnant, and it was his baby: my grandfather’s. She had a little girl; technically, she is the youngest in my father’s generation. Who knows how many other babies there were?”

Kevin continued:

"So my grandfather had aviation connections with Atlanta since he was a fighter pilot in WW2, and he started a full-service hangar business at one of the corporate air fields. He wound up wildly successful doing that, and life seemed to be better there, so they stayed."

“So what do his kids do for a living?” Curt asked.

“Well, Dad went to university in Georgia but got drafted to Vietnam before he finished. He should have taken over the business in Atlanta, but Vietnam kinda killed that, plus his marriage with my mom failed like a prayer. Singer trained as a nurse, but I don’t think she ever had a job doing that. Bess is a life coach, whatever that is. The twins barely got into the worst college in west Georgia, and my grandfather married them off to anyone he could find because they were such weird, vapid girls who partied their way through school trying to get an MRS degree. I doubt they ever got a part-time job, even after their husbands' businesses failed. Tommy was too sick to work, so they moved him into my grandfather's rental house. So… nothing, really. They all live off of him.”

“Including your father?”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, he lives in the family house and does odd jobs and hauls in grain during harvest, but no one works in this family except my dad, and that's just harvest season. No one full-time except my grandfather, and he’s in his sixties.”

“How’s your relationship with him?”

“It’s fine. He wants me to open a Dunkin Donuts franchise after I graduate.”

“Well, there’s another option.”

“Oh, I’m not going to do it. I’d wind up living off of him like the rest of these losers. You’ll meet him soon. He comes up from time to time. He’d love you because you have passion and ambitions.”

“Does he know that you’re… of the persuasion?” Curt gave Kevin a concerned look.

“He does, but we don’t talk about it. My dad’s siblings sometimes bring it up to be asshats. They are awful people. My grandfather compliments me constantly. He likes my work ethic, he likes how I drive, but the siblings try to blame him for why they are so homophobic instead of just owning it.”

“Are they as messy at home as your dad?” Curt asked.

“The whole family hoards weird stuff. Look, here’s an entire paper sack of rubber bands from the delivered paper. Here’s another one full of twist ties from bread or whatever.

Kevin returned to the sofa and sat down, almost bracing himself for Curt to leave out of disgust. Curt sat down next to him.

“I’m not going to be like these people, Rye.”

“I know, and you’re not. My mom said you were the first Woodward with any redeemable quality. She grew up knowing Charles, even though he went to Lowell, I guess. You know your family is known as the town bullies, right?”

“Yeah, I figured that out the first month I was here. I walked into the office at school and parted the people like I was f'n Moses. But my dad said this to my mom. He wasn’t going to be like this either, and look. He’s better about stuff, but still kinda awful to people. My mom one day said, ‘You know what, I quit.’ I don’t want to put anyone in a position to quit on me someday.

“Well, I’d marry you if I could. Maybe some day that will be possible.” Curt grabbed Kevin’s hand. “I wouldn’t quit.”

Kevin couldn’t process Curt’s sweetness in the moment, so he twisted his mouth and looked at him.

"Hey, do you think Matt Lourdes would be willing to take the crown for town bully? Kevin asked. He paused and asked, “Your mom said that about me?”

“She did,” Curt responded softly.

“Wow. That means a lot to me. I’d marry you if I could, also.”

“Do you think that could happen in our lifetime?”

“Unlikely, but it's a nice thought,” Kevin responded.

Curt thought about it for a moment and said,

“Yeah, probably not, but we don't need a law for it to be true.”