Grand Adventures Read online

  Though she could discern the features of each form, there were two faces that were clearer than the rest. Two males this time. She leaned in closer, just to be certain of the tale she saw. Her smile brightened. She could perceive the soul that birthed this fruit beneath the myriad of golden forms. Yes. She was certain. This world was to be one of love.

  With a whisper to both the soul and the blossom, she released her hold on the branch. The flower gleamed from its place on the tree, the sun shining off its golden forms.

  Exiting the willow’s shelter, the old woman bent, scooping up the pods she’d left, and returned them to her pocket. Humming, she made her way down the hill, stepping over shifting roots, and eyed a catalpa tree in the distance. There was work to do.

  An Unexpected Thing

  JOHN AMORY

  When I signed my first publication contract almost exactly one year ago, I sought out a Dreamspinner title to read to familiarize myself with their brand, audience, and authors. I chose TJ’s Into This River I Drown as the first M/M book I ever read. I was blown away by the raw emotion, the poetry of TJ’s words, the spirit that was so alive in his writing. It made me want to be even better at what I do. TJ, everything you put into your writing (spirit, energy, bravery, life), I can see in you as you continue on your journey with Eric. My short in this anthology is based not only on Into This River I Drown but on your relationship with Eric: a love that is unexpected but undeniable, and a love that changes you for the better. Best to you both, now and always. Thank you for the inspiration and for reminding us all of the strength of love.

  “JAMIE, WHERE the hell are we?”

  Ben looked out the passenger-side window and didn’t see much by way of indication. Just trees, lots of trees, and some dangerous-seeming jagged rock formations with a bright canary traffic sign: BEWARE OF FALLING ROCKS.

  “Check the map. I think we might be heading in the wrong direction, but I haven’t seen a damned road marker in hours,” Jamie calmly replied, squinting through the early-morning darkness in search of something, anything, that would tell him where they were.

  “You’re the country bumpkin here, sweetie. I wouldn’t know how to read a map to save my life. I’ve only been a driver as long as there’s been MapQuest or Google.” Ben checked his phone again to see if he had a signal yet—nothing. He grunted and tapped the overhead light, unfolding the massive and heavily used Oregon state map that lived in the rental car’s glove compartment. The centermost folds were worn through completely, the paper threadbare and nearly dissolved. Dozens of newer creases crisscrossed over the state—the result, Ben assumed, of frustrated travelers who couldn’t remember the complex folds to return the map to its original condensed format. “Damn the weather in Seattle for getting our plane detoured. I can’t figure this stupid thing out.”

  He looked at the series of blue and red lines laid against the faded white background. Black and green dots pointed out cities and towns, but nothing sounded familiar. Ben found his and Jamie’s origin point, Eugene, and followed one of the red interstate lines north.

  “What highway are we on?” Ben asked his pilot.

  “Not sure.”

  “Well, then, I’m not really sure how to help. What highway did we get on from the airport?”

  “Not sure.”

  Clearing his throat and swallowing down his slight annoyance, Ben tried to figure it out. “Well, I think these little triangles are mountains. And those sure look like mountains outside, so that must be the Cascades. So from Eugene….” Ben’s voice trailed off as he tried to pinpoint where exactly in Oregon they could be. “I’m assuming we’re on Interstate 5. That looks like it’s a pretty big one.” He suppressed a snicker and looked at Jamie out of the corners of his eyes. His boyfriend was smiling, eyes on the road ahead. “But I don’t know. Let’s pull off the next exit we see and ask someone for directions.”

  “It’s almost four in the morning on a Saturday. Who’s going to be up to give us directions?” Jamie wondered aloud.

  “There has to be a diner or a gas station or something open, don’t you think? I wouldn’t know. I’m from Long Island, remember? Apparently us city folk keep a much different schedule than you backwoods rise-and-shiners,” Ben teased. He jabbed Jamie lightly on the shoulder.

  “You know I live in Austin now, right?” Jamie said. “Besides, this is totally different. There was only one highway anyone could possibly be on when I lived in Montana. You couldn’t get lost, ’cause there was nowhere to go.”

  “I know. I just like teasing you about it.” Ben gazed out the window, letting the quietness of the car overtake him. “God, you are so not the person I thought I would end up with.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Jamie, the playfulness in his voice evident. He smiled that shy smile, the one that initially caught Ben’s eye for the first time two years ago, a continent and an ocean away.

  Ben put his hand on Jamie’s knee and gently stroked it, making small circular motions with his fingertips. “I’m from New York. I work in fashion. I fall asleep every night to Will & Grace and The Golden Girls reruns. I spent every Friday night of my early twenties in a twink bar. I’m the chattiest chatter that ever chatted. I never should have ended up with an Olympic gunman from one of the square states no one can even name on a US map. A guy who’s never strung together more than four sentences at a time in his entire life. And a guy who wouldn’t let me turn on the radio during a five-hour road trip in the middle of the night.”

  A long moment of silence stretched between them. Ben did not take his eyes off Jamie, and Jamie did not take his eyes off the road. His smile never faded. Placing his hand on top of Ben’s, he finally said, “What do we need the radio for when we got the chattiest chatter that ever chatted in the passenger seat?”

  Ben slapped Jamie’s hand away. “Shut up. You know what I mean. We’re just opposites, and it’s weird.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard that opposites attract?”

  “Obviously. But that old cliché doesn’t mention anything about what kind of attraction—”

  Jamie reached over and punched the power button on the radio. Robbie Williams’s “Angels” drifted over them instantly. Ben was not amused. He turned the volume down and continued.

  “Like sexual or physical or emotional or whatever. Maybe opposites only attract for one night, which would have made more sense. You were a semicelebrity, and I was half in the bag. But here we are, two years later, and I’m flying across the country to watch you shoot a gun at a piece of paper. Never, ever, ever, in any of my dreams or hopes for my future, would I have expected this.”

  An exit sign flashed by Ben’s window: number 235A. They’d missed it. Jamie finally spoke up. “But are you happy? Does that stuff really matter?”

  A moment passed. Then two. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t be here, on some random mountain, if I wasn’t. It’s just scary. This isn’t where I thought I would be… literally and figuratively.”

  Jamie laughed and noticed a new sign up ahead, Exit 233, for Albany. “All right, Chatty. Let’s see if there’s a diner open. I could go for a big pile of hotcakes.”

  BEFORE LONG, they arrived at a diner just outside what seemed to be a decently populated city. Jamie pulled the car into the potholed parking lot of the Silver Linings Diner. There were only two other cars parked there, but then again, it was still before dawn. Jamie killed the headlights, but the diner remained lit bright as day: yellow neon outlined the building’s frame, and it was reflected in the metallic surface of the siding. It was as if the entire diner were covered in silver mirrors. “I think they took the name ‘Silver Linings’ a little too literally,” Ben quipped, climbing out of the passenger seat.

  “We’ll just ask for directions, order some greasy breakfast, and we’ll be in Seattle in no time.” They sat themselves at a corner booth. Jamie looked around and noticed there were no other tables occupied, and no one was out front to greet them. Ben busied himself reading
the menu, which was printed on the placemats before them.

  A nondescript young man with curly brown hair and pale skin, no more than twenty-five, suddenly entered the dining room through the kitchen’s swinging door. He had a slight swish in his step and a bigger-than-normal-for-this-early-in-the-morning smile. “Hey, fellas. How are we doing this morning? Have we decided what we’re having?”

  Ben ordered two scrambled eggs with rye toast and potatoes. Jamie asked for a stack of hotcakes with extra butter. The waiter, who introduced himself as Sean, wrote their orders down and went to fetch waters and coffees. When he returned, Jamie explained their situation. “Excuse me, Sean, but we’re a little lost. We’re heading to Seattle, but our plane was detoured to Eugene because of a thunderstorm in the city. Could you tell us how to get there from here? This one seems to be reading the map wrong.”

  Ben sipped his coffee. “Not reading it wrong. I don’t know how to read it at all,” he corrected.

  The young man smiled a bit, fishing out some packets of Splenda from his apron. “I figured as much. Whenever we see unfamiliar faces, they usually need directions. You’re actually right on track. Just hop back on the 5 heading north, and you’ll get there well before noon.”

  Jamie sighed and thanked the waiter as Ben excused himself to use the bathroom. Jamie noticed Sean stealing a glance at his boyfriend’s ass. He smiled, and the young man must have noticed he was caught. “Sorry. It’s not too often that good-looking guys like you pass through here.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “So, what brings you two out here?” Sean was refilling the sugar shakers on nearby tables as he made small talk. He must have been happy for the company in the otherwise empty restaurant.

  “I’m going to a competition in Seattle. Ben wanted to tag along. We met two years ago this weekend, so he’s thinking of it as a kind of anniversary vacation. For me, it’s work.”

  “Oh? What kind of work?”

  “I’m a marksman. I shoot competitively.”

  Sean stopped filling and gave Jamie a surprised look. “Hmm. Not exactly something you hear every day. And your boyfriend out there doesn’t look like much of a gunman, no offense.”

  Jamie chuckled. “No, he’s not. He’s a fashion designer. We met overseas. Most unexpected thing that ever happened to me.”

  Just then, a ding came from the kitchen, signaling that their order was ready to be brought to the table. “I understand a thing or two about the unexpected. When I was eighteen, my grandfather passed and left this old place to me. I didn’t know a thing about the restaurant business, but I didn’t have any other plans for school or anything. So I gave it a shot, and I couldn’t be happier. Never thought I’d own a restaurant, but now I have three here in Albany, and I’m only twenty-four. Sometimes the most unexpected things can be the best things you never imagined.”

  The bell from the kitchen rang again. Sean screwed the cap onto one last shaker and made his way back to the kitchen, passing Ben as he returned from the restroom. When Sean returned with their meals, he gave Jamie a wink and left the check on the table. They ate in silence, Ben shoveling small bites into his mouth in between scrolls on his smartphone, knowing full well that cell reception would again be spotty once they hit the road again. Jamie watched Ben and smiled, savoring his lover’s company and thanking his lucky stars for someone so understanding, so caring, and so unexpected but still so sweet.

  As he finished his last forkful of eggs, Ben looked up and caught Jamie staring at him. “What?”

  “Just… thinking about where I’d be without you,” Jamie responded, pushing his empty plate to the edge of the table.

  “Oh? And where would that be?” Ben followed suit.

  “Probably still here: lost in Albany on my way to another competition. But alone.”

  Ben reached out and grabbed Jamie’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be. Except maybe somewhere with 4G; it’s taking forever for e-mails to go through.”

  Jamie left a twenty on the table for Sean, a nice 30 percent tip for his kindness and wisdom, but couldn’t find the young man to thank him. Their bellies full and feeling rejuvenated, Jamie and Ben climbed into their rented Ford Focus and headed back toward the highway.

  Breaking the silence, Jamie whispered, “Thank you for being here with me, Benjamin Bremner. I love you.” He took Ben’s hand in his own and kissed his smooth knuckles.

  “I love you too, Jamie Post,” Ben responded, leaning over the gearshift to kiss Jamie’s right cheek. He rested his head on Jamie’s shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

  Jamie turned back onto Interstate 5, leaving Albany in the rearview. The highway stretched before them.

  The Twinkie Ignition

  J.E. BIRK

  Some people write stories that inspire others to believe in hope, faith, love, and the goodness of people.

  Some people live stories that inspire others to believe in hope, faith, love, and the goodness of people.

  And some people, like Eric Arvin and TJ Klune, do both.

  LATER ON, Benjy would have to laugh about the fact that he almost burned his apartment down out of fear of his own birthday party. Whenever he’d bring it up, Kyle would usually tell Benjy that it wasn’t all that crazy. After all, birthdays were notorious for making people do weird things. Then Benjy would point out that most people just lied about their age. Eventually one of them would end up tackling the other, and the argument almost always ended with a handjob. So Benjy was pretty sure he’d maintain for some time that he might have skipped his first actual birthday party had it not been for some ten-year-old Twinkies, a package of trick candles, and a slightly drunk best friend with no sense of fire safety.

  Kyle first brought up the birthday celebration about three months into their relationship. Benjy was turning twenty-three soon, and Kyle’s mother apparently wanted to hold a birthday dinner so she could finally meet the guy her son “couldn’t stop talking about,” as Kyle put it. Benjy was eating at Kyle’s house when Kyle said that, and Benjy had to stare into his mashed potatoes for a long moment to keep from rolling his eyes. “Really?” he finally said, a little more drily than he intended to. “You talk about me that much?”

  But Kyle just grinned and reached over to plop some more corn on Benjy’s plate. He was forever worrying about Benjy’s calorie intake, particularly now that Benjy was creeping up on his college graduation and had a tendency to work a lot of hours in between his classes and thesis project. “Well, yeah,” he said, smiling. “What can I say, kid? You’ve grown on me.”

  Benjy smiled at that, because this long after the day they met, he still couldn’t get Kyle to stop calling him “kid.” And even though he’d initially been really annoyed by it, just then he realized just how much it had grown on him.

  So Benjy was determined to go to this birthday dinner and enjoy it. How hard could it be?

  Which was exactly what Benjy kept telling himself. But as the date crept closer, he couldn’t deny that he was feeling more and more uneasy about the whole thing.

  “What kind of cake do you want?” Kyle asked him one night, putting his hand over his cell phone and leaning out of the kitchen doorway to talk to Benjy in the living room.

  “Cake?” Benjy, who’d been engrossed in Pawn Stars, was thoroughly confused.

  “Yeah, cake. For your birthday dinner. My sister Erin makes killer cakes.”

  Benjy opened and closed his mouth several times, but he found that nothing came out. He couldn’t remember anyone ever making him a birthday cake, let alone asking him what kind he wanted. He was stumped.

  Kyle seemed to notice Benjy’s confusion, because he didn’t push. “You like chocolate. I’ll just tell her to make her German chocolate cake.” And then he disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Benjy to wonder what the difference was between German chocolate and regular chocolate.

  Then something similar happened again two days later. Kyle was picking Benjy up from his tin
y apartment, and he was on the phone again. And this time he covered the mouthpiece and said, “Mom wants to know if you’d prefer steak or enchiladas. I told her those were your favorites. Whaddya think?”

  Benjy blinked. Steak? Steak was an option? “Enchiladas,” he blurted out quickly. Enchiladas had to be pretty cheap and easy to make, and there was no way he wanted Kyle’s mom spending a lot of time or money on him.

  Kyle hung up the phone a minute later and patted Benjy’s knee as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Good choice,” he said. “Mom’s enchiladas are legendary. She simmers the chilies for something like ten hours.”

  Ben could practically feel his eyes bugging out. So much for making sure Kyle’s mom didn’t spend a lot of time on this dinner.

  Then it was only four days to go, and people at the restaurant where Benjy worked (where he and Kyle had met, actually, but Benjy couldn’t recall that story without blushing heavily), started asking what Benjy’s birthday plans were.

  “Kyle’s mom’s making me a dinner,” he mumbled into the soda he was drinking when his friend Beth asked. Beth was a longtime waitress and a great person to have dinner with at the bar in between shifts. But when she started clapping her hands excitedly in response to Benjy’s statement, he began to wish he’d eaten in the back.

  “Benjy, that’s so exciting!” she cried. “You’re finally going to meet his family. And they’re making you dinner. How sweet.”

  “Um, yeah,” Benjy mumbled into his pasta.

  “Shit. What’s wrong?” Beth turned completely away from her food to stare at Benjy, until he finally sighed and answered her.