By Your Side
A Collection of Short Stories
Adam Kuta
Dragons Don’t Have Mustaches was first published by Crab Fat Literary Magazine on August 12, 2014.
Copyright 2014 Adam Kuta
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Table of Contents
Walled In
The End of Vacation
Dragons Don’t Have Mustaches
About the Author
Contact the Author
Walled In
I wiped my hand across my forehead for no reason other than habit. It wasn’t like the back of my hand was any less wet than my hairline. It just felt right.
“And that should do it,” I said. I turned around and looked at Tobe. “So… Food?”
He laughed. “I think we should try to ration it.”
“Ration? What’re you …”
I turned around.
Brick after brick formed the brand new wall in Tobe’s basement. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the product of our sweat, blood, and tears. The fruits of our manual labor. And it looked damn good. Except for one minor detail.
“We forgot the door!” My hands flew to my head and swept through my wet curls.
Tobe chuckled. “Forgot? There was supposed to be a door?”
“Without a door, how are we supposed to get out?”
“Without a door, how are they supposed to get in?”
My lip quivered. “Is that what this was?”
“I didn’t think that you would agree if I had told you upfront.”
My knees gave in, and I slid down the new defense we had built. My knees pressed together and cradled my head. I could taste the salt of my tears already.
Tobe sat down next to me, stretching his legs out in front of him. “It’s for the best.”
“But, our families… Our friends… Our lives…”
“No one could know,” he said.
I sat up. “So, what? They just think we disappeared?”
“Most of them think we ran to stay with Allie.”
“France?”
“It’s a viable alibi, right? Believable,” he said. “The camps are only in the states right now. So fleeing makes the most sense. They’ll think we’re safe.”
“Then why didn’t we do that?”
“You know why.”
I slumped into Tobe’s arms, and he wrapped them around me. Securing me. Protecting me. He was right, as usual.
I could picture it. My fingertip on the Passport Verification. The pink triangle flashing on the screen. Police. Handcuffs. Screaming. Tobe rushing towards me. The gunshot. They didn’t take kindly to the gays unwilling to go with them.
I buried my face deeper into his chest.
“I’ve stocked up on a lot of canned foods –“
I pulled away and looked at him. Before I could talk, he eased me back into his embrace.
“Relax. I did it gradually. A little extra here, a little extra there. Nothing suspicious on the receipts.”
I nodded and felt the rise of his stomach as he chuckled.
“You don’t think the new wall in the basement is going to clue them in?” I asked. “It does kind of stand out like a sore thumb.”
“I’ve got that covered, too.”
“How?”
"My cousin, Max, does construction on houses. I asked him if he could drywall over the unfinished part of my basement while I took you out of town over the weekend.”
“Unfinished –“
“He’s never been here. He’ll never know. So long as we’re quiet when he’s here.”
“If Holocaust books have taught me anything, it’s that we’re going to be quiet most of our lives until this whole thing is over.” I could feel my voice giving out.
“That’s why I asked him to add soundproofing to the wall. Told him it was for the surround-sound. Movie watching.”
I whimpered. “And what if he doesn’t do it?”
“He will. I told him that after we got back, I was going to show you the finished basement and ask you to move in with me.”
I looked up at Tobe. He smiled.
“Hey, in a way, we kind of did, right?” He laughed. “I know it’s not perfect. But, it’s something. And hey, we have access to the bathroom?”
Tobe squeezed me tighter.
“I can’t do this…”
“We can,” Tobe said, giving me another tight squeeze. “After a month or two without paying the bill, I’m sure they’ll turn the water off. And the electricity. So, we’ll need to be smart.”
I shifted out of Tobe’s arms and against the wall again. I stared at the grainy, popcorn ceiling. My new sky.
“But, before that happens,” Tobe said. He patted the wall behind us. “We may as well celebrate finishing this thing.”
He kissed the top of my head, then stood up. I took his extended hand, and with his help, got to my feet. He winked at me.
“How about a celebratory shower?”
I nodded and forced a smile. “Okay.”
I took his hand, and he guided me to the bathroom I had been to a million times before.
Everything looked different. The walk-in shower that we had renovated together a few months prior. The icy blue walls painted the exact shade I had picked out. The penguin-themed hand towels we both thought were too cute to not buy and hung up only for decoration.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. This was my only existence. For God knew how long.
But at least we could be together...
The End of Vacation
Jayden’s red converse slid across the pavement. The line’s movement had been minimal for the past two hours. He rubbed his temples as the couple in front of him began rambling in French at seven hundred miles an hour.
Above him stood the majestic Eiffel Tower. Something he’d envisioned seeing in person for years, and finally here it was. Now, it was just a matter of getting to the top. Marie had recommended taking the stairs. Sure, his legs would be sore the next day, but he wouldn’t feel it sleeping on his nine-hour flight back to America.
He shoved his hands into the pocket of his boot-cut jeans and surveyed the other tourists. Perfect bodies, stylized hair, beautiful clothing and matching accessories. Even the men. It was like heaven.
Jayden’s blue eyes scanned a nearby Frenchman, and a smirk spread across his cheek. He had never seen so many attractive guys! And yet, his ‘gaydar’ was obsolete here. Any visual indicators of sexuality were lost to cultural differences.
The line shuffled again. Almost there. Jayden looked up at the corner of the tower, where he would be climbing the tall staircase to his final French vacation destination.
“Pardon.”
Jayden‘s cheeks flushed, and he averted his eyes to the stranger that had bumped into him. Jayden said, “No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t—“
Beautiful chocolate eyes gazed back at him. Freckles graced the stranger’s tanned nose and cheeks. Full, kissable lips. Dark hair swooped backward, away from the gorgeous face, and spiked upward on the top of his head but cut short on the sides.
Jayden’s heart rate doubled, and his body felt like it had been overcome with flames. He forced a chuckle, about all he could get out after seeing the piece of art standing in front of him.
“I am sorry,” the stranger said. His French accent was thick.
“Oh. You speak English?” Jayden asked.
The stranger laughed. “Yes. Some. You are tourist.”
“Yes,” Jayden said. “I’m from America.”
“Yes.”
“I’m Jayden.”
“Bonjour, Jayde
n,” the stranger said. He turned to look behind him for a second, and then looked back into Jayden’s blue eyes. “I am Florian.”
Florian. Jayden’s eyes closed, and his smile rose in unison. He could feel his eyes roll into the back of his head, melting in the perfection of Florian.
The Frenchman laughed. “Have fun in Paris.” He flashed Jayden an adorable, dimpled smile and turned to walk away.
“Wait!” Jayden said. “I, uh, was wondering if maybe, uh, you would want to….“
Florian looked back at Jayden, his eyebrows raised. “Want to...?”
“Maybe, top me?” Jayden pointed to the tower’s stairway.
Florian laughed. “Top you?”
Jayden’s eyes grew wide. “Uh. What? No. I mean… Go all the way. To the top. I, uh. Oh wow. I’m sorry. I’m just a little … Can we start over, maybe?”
Florian shook his head. “Silly American.”
The two young men stood in silence for a moment. Jayden’s feet fidgeted, and his fingers tangled together behind his back. “Look. My friend couldn’t join me today because she had to work. And, I’m here by myself. It would be great if I could have someone as company to the top.”
Florian’s head cocked to the side. “But you do not know me.”
Redness dominated Jayden’s face. “I’d like to.”
“Well, you are lucky I am not business today,” Florian said. “I will join you, Jayden.”
Jayden’s knees buckled, and the butterflies in his stomach fluttered at full force. “Really?”
“Oui.”
The boys smiled at each other, as Florian took his place in line next to Jayden. Another bout of awkward silence. The line shuffled forward still.
“Mon frère wants to live in America. New York? Los Angeles? Miami?” Florian said.
“Frère? I know this one …”
“It is, how you say, brother?” Florian’s brown eyes squinted in concentration.
“Oh. That’s right,” Jayden said. “It seems like everyone here has a brother who wants to move to America.” He laughed. Florian blinked.
“Where are you live in America?”
“Where do you live.”
“Do?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Where do you live in America?” Florian asked again. He leaned into Jayden’s shoulder, bumping him off balance. A dimpled smile spread across his freckled face, and he lifted his eyebrows.
Jayden’s heart skipped a beat. Flirtation? From a cute French guy? He slipped his hands behind his back and out of view. He squeezed the flesh on the top of his hand, expecting to wake up.
Florian cocked his head. “Are you okay?”
Jayden blushed. “Oh. Yeah. Uh, you’ve probably never heard of it. I’m from Ohio.”
“Ohio?”
“I knew you wouldn’t know.”
Florian shrugged. “It does not matter. American boys are still interesting.”
The redness of Jayden’s face was beginning to feel permanent. His smile, too.
“Tell me,” Florian said, “what brings you to Paris? Tourist? Adventure? Love?”
Jayden’s eyes grew wide, and his jaw dropped more than he would be willing to admit. “I’m, uh, visiting a friend. She lives here.”
“Oh,” Florian said. A hint of disappointment flashed in his face.
~*~
Jayden’s clutch on the railing tightened. He leaned over and swiped his hand through his curly blonde hair. Pleading eyes looked up at Florian. “Are you not fazed by this at all?”
Florian laughed. “It’s not that bad, silly American. Do you not walk stairs over there?”
“Climb. Climb stairs,” Jayden said. “And yes. We do. Sometimes.”
Jayden blushed as he felt a gentle push on the small of his back. Florian flashed a smile and motioned to the top of the next flight of stairs. “We’re almost there,” he said. “You said you wanted to go all the way, yes?”
The breeze from two hundred and forty seven steps up grew a bit stronger than on the ground below, but Jayden hardly felt it. The muscles in his legs throbbed from so many stairs. His breathing became shallow with a mix of elevation, exhaustion, and the look in Florian’s eyes.
“Okay. Yeah. Just keep swimming,” Jayden said. Another gentle push on the small of his back urged him up the next three steps, and then his legs buckled. His weight shifted, and gravity began to take over.
Panic. He reached for anything to stabilize his balance, but he had already lost it. His red converse left the safety of the stairwell, and his entire body became airborne.
Jayden’s back crashed into a strong arm, as a second arm caught him at his knees. Florian smiled. “Seems as if you are falling for me.”
~*~
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful!”
Jayden and Florian absorbed the Parisian view, from nine hundred and fifteen feet above the ground. Buildings, like tiny blobs, blended together into the horizon. Seeing people proved impossible. Beauty seemed like the worst understatement ever; this was breathtaking.
“You’ve never been topped?” Florian asked. His brown eyes sparkled, and he winked.
Jayden blushed. “No. I’ve never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower,” he said, “I’m American. Remember?”
“Oh yes,” said Florian, “I forget.”
Another tourist left her spot next to the gated edge of the small cabin, and Florian pushed Jayden into the now-vacant spot. Jayden grabbed on to the railing in front of him and stared at the edge of the world.
Arms wrapped around his waist, and Florian’s chin rested on Jayden’s shoulder. “C’est magnifique, non?”
“Oui,” Jayden said, his American accent obvious.
Florian’s arms wrapped tighter around Jayden, and Jayden couldn’t help but fall back into their comfort. The warmth of Florian’s cheek against his own caused Jayden to blush.
They stayed in their embrace, reveling in the captivating view from a top the Eiffel Tower. The rest of the tourists around them became obsolete, and nothing else existed in that moment.
“Jayden,” Florian said. His hands shifted to Jayden’s hips, and he pressed against them to spin Jayden around. “You are very sweet. I would very much like to see you again. Maybe tomorrow—”
Jayden swallowed hard. “Tomorrow?”
“Does this not allow for you?” Florian asked. His cute jumble of English caused Jayden’s stomach to flutter, but the American averted his gaze to his red converse.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, because trust me,” Jayden said, “I really do. I just… I can’t.”
“I see.” Florian’s hands fell to his side, off of Jayden’s hips. He looked at Jayden’s red converse and sighed. “Well, I have had a very fun night.”
“Florian, I leave for America tomorrow.” Tears welled in Jayden’s blue eyes as he looked up to gaze at the French man. “I wish I could. Truly.”
Florian’s hand caressed Jayden’s cheek. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not,” Jayden said. He forced a smile, feeling the first teardrop roll down his cheek. “I’m not.”
The sparkle in Florian’s brown eyes grew despondent. But he smiled his dimpled smile, and Jayden’s knees grew weak again.
And in an instant, Florian’s lips pressed against Jayden’s. And the world paused. And the Parisian cityscape, the overfill of tourists, the Eiffel Tower itself – all of it disappeared. Jayden’s stomach looped and twisted and hopped and fluttered. And he melted into the kiss.
Dragons Don’t Have Mustaches
Anthony
Katlynn says I’m a Princess.
Princess Annie, she calls me. It makes me smile. But not too big, because princesses don’t usually show their teeth when they smile. They just flutter their eyelashes and put their hands together in front of them and twist back and forth a little bit.
Katlynn always smiles when I do that. Like a princess.
Dylan smiles, too, sometimes. He doesn’t p
lay Princess very good, but Katlynn makes him try. I tell him what to say, and he plays good then. But, he’s not very good unless I tell him how to play. I don’t think he ever played Princess before.
Lauren played Princess. But, she thinks it’s for babies now. Even though I’m not a baby. I’m six and a half. Momma says I’m a ‘big boy.’ And ‘big boys aren’t babies.’
Momma also says that ‘boys don’t play Princess,’ but Katlynn and I still play Princess when Momma is gone. Momma is gone a lot.
My favorite days are when Momma leaves pizza money for Dylan. He sometimes makes silly voices when he orders pizza. Sometimes he says the pizza is for Princess Annie and asks them to draw pictures in the pizza box.
One time we got a dragon in the box. We made Lauren play as the dragon. Katlynn and I were princesses, and Dylan was a knight. Dragon Lauren kidnapped Princess Katlynn, and Dylan the knight and me the princess had to rescue her before she was turned into a poisoned toad and eaten alive!
That night was so much fun. Katlynn even found me a crown and one of Lauren’s old Princess dresses to wear. We gave Dylan a paper plate for his shield. Katlynn even let her hair down.
Momma wasn’t happy when she got home. I think she was mad that I didn’t eat my pizza crust. I just threw it in the trash and didn’t tell anyone. But Momma always knows everything. She says she has eyes everywhere, kinda like a monster. But she’s a nice monster. And sometimes her eyes don’t see everything.
She made me put my pajamas on straight away and go to bed. Lauren didn’t have to, though. So she must’ve been mad at just me. Lauren doesn’t get into trouble much.
Dylan hasn’t called me Princess Annie much after that. He calls me Anthony again. And I think the evil dragon may have kidnapped Katlynn for real this time…
~*~
Dylan
I walked her out to the front porch. Suspended swing time. A few airplanes blinked above us; never stars.
“What do you think the big deal is?” Katlynn said, finally.
“Kat…”
“What? I mean, let her express herself. She isn’t hurting anyone. Right?”
“Kat—“
“Right?”
I sighed. “No, you’re exactly right.”
“So what’s the big deal?”
“It’s just different.”
Silence. Must have said something wrong.
“Not different,” I said. “Just… not what mom’s used to.”
“Because that’s much better.”
Guess I didn’t fix it.
Katlynn looked at me. “Don’t you think it’s wrong?”