“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know. If you were a girl it would be perfect.”
Ben raised his head to make eye contact, and for one electrical moment, Tim looked at him as if he were just that. Then the amorous expression was replaced by one of confusion followed by a few sniffs. “Is something burning?”
Ben sniffed a couple of times himself. “Shit! The garlic bread!” He darted into the kitchen or at least intended to. With the lights out he ran into a number of walls, probably dislodging a multitude of crucifixes. Eventually he spotted a glow that revealed itself to be the smoldering remains of the bread loaf. He felt around for oven mitts, took the pan from the oven, and tossed the charred bread into the sink, running water over it for good measure.
With the emergency over, Ben leaned against the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. If only he were a girl, huh? On one hand Tim’s words meant that he was the wrong gender and didn’t stand a chance in hell. On the other they also said, with a few physical differences aside, that Ben was everything that Tim was looking for in a guy. Girl. Whatever.
* * * * *
The lawnmower sputtered and chugged, running off fumes now. Ben eyed the three remaining strips of grass yet to be mowed and hoped he could finish without having to refill the tank. He broke into a run, pushing the mower ahead of him with all his strength. A few strenuous moments later and the lawnmower gave one final protesting cough before dying just seconds after the last blades of grass had been sheared.
Ben smiled in satisfaction as he surveyed his work. The yard didn’t look perfect, but then it never did. As he cast his eye over the lawn, a movement drew his attention to the house where his mother stood in the window. She was peering at him intently as she had been all day, treating Ben with suspicion ever since he had come home this morning. She had assigned him an unmerciful number of chores and regularly checked on him as he worked, as if to catch him doing drugs or whatever else she suspected. Once the mower was put away, he stepped into the kitchen which connected to the garage.
“All done then?” his mother asked as she handed him a glass of Kool-Aid.
“Yeah, with everything,” Ben gasped after chugging the drink. “I’m going to take a shower now.”
“Afterwards you can help me make dinner, since you’ve been so interested in cooking lately.”
“Yeah, all right.”
Ben took his time in the shower, since it was apparently the only time he would get any rest today. Some way to spend a Sunday! After he relieved himself sexually, he stood tranquilly under the stream of hot water for what felt like half an hour. Eventually he reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out. Wiping the steam from the bathroom mirror, he eyed himself as he dried off, wondering all the while what Tim would think of his body. Was it good that Ben was so slender because it was more like a girl? Or would it be better if he had muscles that could compete with Tim’s?
Once he was downstairs again, his mother switched off her usual decorating TV program and hustled him into the kitchen.
“Chili,” she announced as she began pulling ingredients from the cabinets. “This is one of the easiest things to cook.”
Ben helped her to reach some of the items on the higher shelves. His mother was so short that she actually made him feel tall. He had inherited his small build from her, as well as the blond hair. Really, he didn’t resemble his father very much. “What did you eat last night at your friend’s house?” she asked casually as she turned the oven on.
“I tried making spaghetti, but it didn’t turn out so well.”
“So you cooked for his whole family?” His mother turned her lie-detecting gaze on him.
“No, they were out of town.” There was no point in lying. He never managed to get away with it. His mom saw through it every time.
“You didn’t mention that when you called last night,” she said. “You were supposed to be out with Allison but ended up at some guy’s house. Someone we’ve never met.”
Ben shrugged, knowing that the less he said the better.
“Did you actually know this guy, or did you meet him at a bar?” she pressed.
Ben laughed, feeling relieved at finally understanding the source of her worries.
“I wasn’t at a bar, Mom. I don’t even have a fake ID. I met Tim at school a few weeks ago.”
His mom didn’t respond. Instead she showed him the proper way to cut an onion, probably while rethinking her strategy.
“I just want you to be safe,” she said as she slid the diced onion off the cutting board and into a frying pan sizzling with ground beef. “If you need something, like condoms or lube, you just have to ask.”
Ben fought to hold back his laughter. His mother was imagining all sorts of illicit sex, when the most that had happened last night was a few board games. He was pretty sure that a condom wasn’t required to play Scrabble or Life.
“He’s not my boyfriend, mom. He’s straight.”
She set down the can she was trying to open with a loud thunk. “Then why are you cooking for him? And how come you haven’t been home all week? What exactly do you two do together?”
Now she was back to suspecting drugs. She would be twice as shocked to learn that he had in reality been doing many of the same chores that he had tackled today.
“I just really like him, that’s all.”
“Oh, Benjamin,” she said sorrowfully. “You need to find someone who can return your feelings. You’re just going to end up getting hurt.”
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” he responded tersely.
“You haven’t met any other gay boys at your school?”
He shook his head.
“None? Maybe we should get you a fake ID. We could go to the bar together.”
“Sure!” Ben laughed. “You can help me pick someone out.”
“I would, too! I just don’t think that’s the best place to meet someone. Have you thought about personal ads?”
“C’mon, Mom. Stop worrying about it. I’m sure I’ll meet someone. I just hope it happens before I’m thirty.”
“It will. It’s just a matter of time before someone realizes how special my baby is.”
Ben smiled as they continued making chili together. The recipe was easy. All he had to do was throw a bunch of stuff in a pot and let it cook. Even he couldn’t mess this one up.
“You should have been honest though,” his mother said, almost as an afterthought. “All that stuff about being out with Allison!”
Ben remained silent, wondering suddenly how she figured out that he hadn’t gone to the movies at all.
“She’s going to be in trouble with her father too, you know,” she continued in chastising tones. “He sounded furious when he called last night.”
“What? Allison’s dad called?”
“Late last night. After you called and said you’d be sleeping over. He asked if I knew where you two were, and, well …”
Ben didn’t need her to finish. The sinking feeling in his stomach told him all he needed to know.
__________
Chapter 7
Lunchtime couldn’t come quick enough on Monday. Despite calling Allison at least three dozen times Sunday evening, Ben had been unable to reach her. The phone only rang and rang, not even the answering machine picking up. Unless she had entered into a six-hour conversation with Ronnie, which seemed unlikely, her phone had probably been taken away, or maybe her private line had been canceled.