Fiction by Sean Meriwether
"Adam Y Steve," painting by Tony de Carlo, used by permission. www.tonydecarlo.com, www.facebook.com/tonydecarloart
Lying with Men
Sean Meriwether
Two men arrived at an overgrown apple orchard, the trees pregnant with unripe fruit. They swam in a lazy stream and washed a week’s worth of filth from their bodies before dropping onto the sun-warmed grass, naked as newborns.
“Adam,” Steve said. It was the first word he had uttered in days and his voice sounded foreign to his own ears. “I was curious.”
“Curiosity has always been punished.” Adam scratched himself idly as he watched the clouds take new shapes.
“Who was the last person you were with?”
“What do you mean?”
Steve looked over at his scruffy travelling companion. “Before whatever happened, who was the last person you remember? When was it, a year ago? Two?”
“Last spring, but it feels longer.”
“For me it was my best friend. I saw him after gym. We were supposed to get together to study but he never made it. I can’t remember what he looks like.”
Adam tugged on his beard. “Mine was my girlfriend. She was still sleeping when I left her apartment.”
“What were women like?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t remember how women were. It’s all so distant.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“The whole point of this search was to find some women. Continue the species and all that, but I don’t remember much about them.”
“If we keep following this river east we’ll find some and all your questions will be answered.”
“I’ve heard that for weeks.” The stream gurgled but retained its secrets. “Listen, Adam, when was the last time, you know… with a woman.”
“Why don’t you go back to daydreaming? You don’t talk for days and now all these questions.”
“Can you tell me what it was like?”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Remind me of what we are looking for. I’m tired of walking.”
Adam huffed and twined the ends of his beard.
“Come on. I sang all the television theme songs I could remember for you. Why can’t you do this one thing for me?"
“All right, already. Let’s see. Women. They were soft. They had long hair. They smelled nice.”
“I have long hair. I smell,” Steve tested the no-longer lethal odor of his armpits, “better after the swim. That would make me a woman.”
“They smelled better than you. Like vanilla or something.”
“Ice cream?”
“Go to sleep.” Adam looked down the length of his fuzzy body to the river beyond, the road leading east between his feet. “A short nap and we can get in ten miles before dark.”
“Do you think about them a lot?”
“About who?”
“Women. The girlfriend that you left in bed.”
“Why?”
“I, uh, heard you last night. Thinking. About women.”
Adam turned away, the curve of his spine formed a lopsided S.
“Were you thinking about her? Or someone else? Or was it a dream? And who is Mary?”
“Mother of god, will you stop the inquisition!” Adam got up and walked behind an apple tree. He watered the bark and looked up into the interlacing branches at the blue sky above. It was a good day to travel, warm and dry. Then he saw Steve in the tree above him, picking apples. The young man’s lithe body reminded him of… he shook the thought from his head and went back to his trampled-down spot on the grass.
“I’ve got lunch.” Steve jumped down from the tree and placed a few apples on the ground between them. He held out an apple, but Adam shook his head. Steve sunk his teeth into the hard flesh, grimaced at the sharp flavor then savored the juice. He licked the sticky fluid from his hand.
“They’re too green,” Adam dismissed. “You’ll get sick and die.” He lay back in the grass. “We’re burning daylight. We have to leave soon.”
“Adam, I, well you should know. I never…”
“Never?”
“No. And now it’s too late. There aren’t any left. There is just you. And me.”
“Lucky us,” Adam sighed.
“What were women like? I only remember my mother. She wasn’t soft, she had short hair and she never smelled good.”
“You really never? I just figured… you’re a handsome guy. Fit. The girls must have…”
“I’m shy. Really. I never knew how to talk to them. I always got along better with guys.”
“Are you…”
“Does it matter?” Steve dropped in the grass next to his companion and draped his arm over Adam’s shoulders. “Does that make a difference when there are only two of us left?”
Adam shrugged off Steve’s arm and leaned forward, watched the horizon for signs for life. “Women were nice. When one smiled at you your heart beat a little faster. They were hard to talk to. They wanted one thing but said they wanted something else. They expected you to read their minds and were upset when you couldn’t. They were confusing.”
“I’m not confusing, am I?”
“You are right now.”
“Guess I checked off one more box. I am a woman.”
“You’re not a woman, believe me. You’ve got… that.”
“So mine sticks out. Is that the only difference?” Steve finished his apple and tossed the core into the river. They watched it bob in the water, spin around, then give in to the tug of the current. It floated downstream.
“Men are different. Women are different. It is just the way we are made.”
“Sounds to me like women were different from men. We should be more compatible because we have the same parts.” Steve grinned.
“You should have been a lawyer with that kind of logic.”
“It’s what my parents wanted for me.” The men sat side by side as the sun burned away the desire to move. They basked in the sunlight, their skin flush with warmth.
“You were with your girlfriend the night before it happened. What was it like?”
“I don’t know how to describe it. It was nice.”
“Just nice? Was that what you were thinking about last night?”
Adam let silence answer for him.
“Why can’t we think together?”
“That wouldn’t be right.” Adam inched away.
“Why not? It gets lonely when you are on your side thinking about Mary and I’m over here alone.”
“It’s different with Mary.”
“The outcome would be the same.”
“We’re both men.”
“Let me ask you something. When men crossed this country and explored these same regions, were there any women with them? They only had each other. What do you think they did?”
“There were Indians.”
“They were masculine guys, explorers, frontiersmen. Guys who killed and ate animals. Like us.”
“What are you proposing?”
“We don’t have many options. Why don’t we, you know, share our thoughts?”
“And then what? What if we, as you say, share our thoughts? What if we brainstorm all night? What if we think so hard that we get headaches? What happens tomorrow?”
“We’ll stay here. Running water and all the apples you can eat. Paradise.” Steve draped his arm gingerly around his friend’s shoulders. Adam tensed but didn’t pull away.
“But if we stay here, we’ll never find anyone else. We’ll die old and alone.”
“Maybe they are looking for us. If we stay in one place, they’ll find us.”
“You have a point.”
“Life is too short for wandering around. I vote we stay.” Steve raised his hand and pointed at the sky.
“Here?”
“Why not here? And we shall call this place Woman, in honor of the other sex.”
“But the sign said…”
“We get to make up names for everything. That is our right. We shall call this place Woman and we will live here until other people find us. Agreed?”
Adam looked past his callused feet to the road beyond, the horizon offered nothing but miles of unexplored territory. “Agreed.”
“Good. Now what about the other thing?”
“You and your thinking. It’s too precious. I voted to stay. Don’t push it.”
“It’s a perfect way to christen our new home.”
“I don’t know.”
“Part of you has more conviction.”
Adam crossed one leg over the other. “All this talk about women.”
“You still haven’t explained the difference.”
“We are both men, that’s the difference. We shouldn’t.”
“Because someone might see us?”
“It isn’t natural.”
“The men who explored this country weren’t natural?”
“You are confusing things.”
“Is it evil?”
Adam laughed.
“Are you ashamed? Look, what if I did this… don’t be shy. I’ve touched you like this a hundred times. Remember that ache you had last week? You wanted me to touch you then.”
“But now we are naked and…”
“Relax. It’s good, right? Go with your body.”
“You should stop.”
“What about this.”
“Steve, really… I wish… you would… Stop.”
“And what about…”
“That’s going too far.” Adam lay back on the grass and closed his eyes.
“You can’t mask your curiosity.” Steve plucked an apple from the pile and offered it to his friend. “Why don’t you have an apple?”
Adam looked over at the green orb held out to him. “Why?”
“It will freshen your breath. Then you can kiss me.”
“Who said anything about kissing?” Adam turned away from the fruit. “Why are you trying to confuse me? I love my girlfriend.”
“Eat my apple.”
“It’s not ripe.”
“Where is the danger? Close your eyes.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Feed you.”
“Why do I need to close my eyes?”
“Trust me.”
Adam blinked and let his lids close. He felt something brush his lips, a touch on his shoulder, fingertips across his stomach. A bird fluttered inside of him and he felt helpless against it. The hard skin of the apple parted his lips and he bit into the flesh. Tart juice flooded his mouth. Adam took another bite and smiled as he chewed. “That’s good.”
“My point exactly.” Steve pressed the apple to his friend’s mouth, then replaced it with his lips. Adam allowed himself to be kissed but pulled away. Steve pushed him down onto the grass. They kissed. “See. Was that so different?”
“Not even close.” Adam looked at him, confused. “Now what?”
“What does your body tell you?”
“Too many things.”
The men lay side-by-side, the sun bathed them in light. Steve inched closer to his friend. “If it doesn’t work out, we can always go east.”
“Everything will change.”
“I’m not afraid.”
The sun settled on the edge of the world and slipped off, allowing darkness to blur the lines. The moon soaked the landscape in blue shadows. A hand inched across the grass and bridged two bodies. Their breath quickened, their pulses raced, and in one clumsy movement their flesh joined into a new creature. It moved across the grass with a mute urgency, carving its nest beneath the canopy of branches. The trees stood silently, their fruit glistening in the moonlight.
The men of Woman lived in paradise until they discovered a place downriver called Man.
Then things got really confusing.
__________
Once upon a time Sean Meriwether was the managing editor of literary magazines Outsider Ink and Velvet Mafia, but quietly bowed out to have a life. He continues to write quirky fiction despite all the best advice given him. Sean has exposed himself in Best of Best Gay Erotica 2, Best Gay Love Stories, and Exotic Gothic and his work was collected into The Silent Hustler. If you want a full frontal join him on GoodReads.
To see more art by Tony de Carlo, visit his Web site www.tonydecarlo.com or find him on Facebook at www.facebook.com/tonydecarloart.