Report

Three interviews, two with council members, one with one of the teachers at the school, were exhausting. I had time to make rough notes between each. I was just starting notes on the last when Anthony arrived home. I stood in the door of my room and greeted him as he came in through the garage.

When he clung to me and buried his face in my neck, I froze a moment before I could get my arms to wrap around him. "What is it?" I asked

He didn't answer, but I could feel him crying. I stroked his head. His hair was back in a braid, the way he usually wore it. I couldn't think of anything else to do other than hold him close and stroke his hair. After a bit, I began crooning softly, like I'd seen fathers do with their babies. At first, he sobbed harder when I did but he also clung to me more.

When he calmed enough that I thought he could talk, I asked again, "What is it?"

"My...my parents...a car accident."

I held him tighter, my heart in free-fall. "How bad?" I whispered.

He started shivering. "They were both in surgery. My sister called me. It's the first time they've contacted me since..." He shuddered hard before continuing. "She told me not to come, they don't want me there."

I rested my cheek against his head and pulled him as close as I could. "I'm sorry," was all I could think of to say.

After he stopped crying, he held onto me. "I know it's a lot to ask, especially now, with you trying to figure everything out, but could I stay with you tonight?"

"Of course," I answered. There was no thought needed.

He pushed away from me and shook his head. "It's not a matter of course, but thank you." He tried to smile, but it didn't look very convincing. What was convincing was the vulnerability in his face.

My hand caressed his cheek before I thought about it. I couldn't think of anything that felt right to say. I wanted to kiss him, but that didn't feel right either. "I'll fix dinner if you want," I offered.

He reached up and held my hand to his cheek. "I'll cook. It'll help. You have notes to make, too. I'm sure I interrupted you."

"I'm glad I could be here for you," I said and felt lamely ridiculous for it, even though I meant it.

He held my hand a little longer before turning and heading into the kitchen.

I took the laptop in and sat at the table while he cooked. We didn't talk, but I saw him look over a few times and I knew he appreciated the company.

Just as he was putting the hamburgers he made on the table, his phone rang. He went pale as he answered it. "Lopez here." I was listening to his end of the conversation which revealed nothing, consisting almost entirely of "yes...okay...thank you." He collapsed into his chair after hanging up, his head on the table.

"Anthony," I said softly, reaching across the table.

"My parents are going to be fine," he whispered. He looked up and smiled at me with tears in his eyes. "They will probably be released to rehab tomorrow." He reached over for my hand. "My mom just had some glass embedded in her shoulder and Dad's knee had been pinned badly under the dash." He sniffled and rubbed his face with his other hand. "They're going to need some physical therapy, but they're both fine."

I squeezed his hand. "I'm glad." I looked down, examining it without seeing it. "If you still need..."

He squeezed my hand back. "Thank you." He let go of my hand. "Here, we both need to eat."

I looked up and he smiled at me. My lips curved in response. "Thanks for...everything." Once I said it, it sounded stupid. I wasn't sure what else to do or say to express myself.

"I'm glad you were here," he said, his voice just loud enough to reach me.

I tried to smile at him. I don't know if I managed it. We turned our attention to eating. I did the dishes and he cleaned up the rest of the kitchen.

We stood awkwardly over the table when the small chores were finished. "I have a few more notes to put in and then I’ll be ready for bed," I said, my face burning. I picked up my laptop to distract myself.

His voice was so soft, I almost didn't hear him. "If it's okay...I'll join you?"

I nodded. "It's okay. Just because you know they're okay doesn't mean you're totally okay." That didn't sound the way I wanted it to. "I mean," I stammered, not knowing how else to say it.

"I know," he said, his voice still soft. "I'll change and be in."

I followed him out of the kitchen. I went down to my room after he turned into his room. In the room, I sat at the desk and finished my notes. When I turned around, Anthony was sitting on the bed. He looked utterly vulnerable as he stared at the comforter and his hair hid his face.

"I'll change and then we can get some sleep."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the bed.

I changed in the bathroom. When I came out, he hadn't moved. I walked around the bed and crawled on behind him. I let my arms go around his waist. He leaned back against me, his arms overlapping mine. We just sat there a long time, not talking, not moving.

It was close to two in the morning when I was sure he was asleep. I may have dozed before then, but he slid off my shoulder and woke me up. I helped him lay down on the bed before turning off the lights and crawling in to hold him again. He turned so he was holding me as well. Maybe I should have been more repulsed by this, but it felt so good to be needed, wanted, that I just couldn't feel badly. I caressed his head, letting my fingers slip through his hair until I fell asleep.

Morning fund him still in my arms. His eyes were open, looking at me, an air of waiting around him.

I reached up and caressed his cheek. "How are you?"

Some of the tension eased and he leaned into my hand. "Better, thank you."

I drew him in and kissed him. It was the right thing to do and there was no way I could have stopped myself.

He didn't resist. In fact, he returned the kiss gently before drawing back with a smile on his lips. "I'll get breakfast."

"You don't have to. I can cook," I protested weakly. The truth was I didn't want him to move.

"I like cooking. I need the normalcy." He disentangled himself from me.

I watched him go. It didn't occur to me then that I should be upset or repulsed. It felt right to wake with him, right to kiss him, to hold him.

Unfortunately, we couldn't linger over breakfast. With only two days left to prepare for the next council meeting, both of us had a lot to do. I had three interviews, including a guy who was willing to let me talk to his son alone based on what he'd heard from Anthony and Richard as a few of the other guys I'd interviewed.

It was fun talking with the kid. He had a lot of questions about what I did and what the 'big city' was like. He was eight and had been living in Sedona with his dad since he was three.

His dad, Tom, told me getting custody had been relatively simple when the police walked in on his wife trying to beat their six month old son with a chair. He showed me the scars he still had on his back from protecting the boy. It had taken them two years to hitchhike and work his way across the country with his son. The boy didn't remember much of their journey, for which Tom was grateful. He was also one of the few guys here who did not nor had ever had a partner of one of the other guys. He liked women but was deathly afraid of another relationship with one.

There were some guys here who had told me how they'd struggled knowing most of the town's inhabitants were 'patriarchal.' Tom had found Sedona what he expected, initially terrifying, and now peaceful. Once he'd established that he didn't want a relationship with another guy, he was welcomed and offered refuge and employment. The only limitation, though he did not feel it as such, was that he could not bring a woman into the community. He didn't participate in the ceremonies on the full moon, but he did participate in the council. Though vastly in the minority, they did have a representative in the council.

I checked with Anthony and he told he that plans were in place to ensure they were represented in the super council. We were having dinner out since his day had run longer than planned. He called me and insisted I meet him just as I was getting ready to cook something. We just ate at the diner we'd eaten at before, but it felt different. Strangely, the meal felt more relaxed and more tense at the same time. Looking back at it now, I think I could safely call that our first 'date.'

After dinner, we went a little bit out of the commune. There, we climbed on the hood of the car to avoid scorpions and looked up at the stars. I couldn't ever remember going out just to look at the sky, but it felt good just to be with him. I reached over and took his hand.

His eyes were on the sky as he spoke. “In a week, you will go home. You will stay there for at least a month before you contact me again.” His eyes shone in the moonlight, but he didn't look at me. “I want you to seek out a woman in that time. If, after that, you still want to contact me, I want you to have sex with her. If then you still want me, call me. I will tell you all the reasons you shouldn't. I will tell you to have sex with her again.” He swallowed hard and I could see tears on his cheeks, reflecting the moonlight. “If you still want me and can give up everything to move here, I will welcome you back.”

I was stunned. I couldn't move or speak for some time after that. When I could feel my body again, I let go of his hand. I could logically understand what he was doing and appreciated it, but it still hurt. I nodded, struggling to swallow the lump in my throat. He wasn't dumping me, I knew that both logically and emotionally. I nodded. “I...okay.”

He didn't say anything else. We sat there a while longer before he slid off the car. “Watch for scorpions,” he reminded me.

It was good he did. Though I grew up in Phoenix, very much a desert city, I'd never really been in the desert. I looked down and just where I was going to put my feet was a large shadow my mind insisted was a scorpion. I glanced around and slid across the hood until I cam down as far away from it as I could. I circled widely before getting in the car, jumping at every shadow that moved in the slight breeze of my passing.

When I got in the car, I could see Anthony biting his lip so he didn't laugh at me. I could also see the tears still on his cheeks.

“Glad I could amuse you,” I said sourly before giving him a sheepish grin as he burst out laughing. The whole feel of the night changed with that, though. It became lighter, less emotionally charged. I still had a lot of 'soul searching,' as I heard some of the guys call it. Just a lot of thinking, really. I would follow through with what Anthony asked me to do. I determined that on the way back to his house. He was right. I knew this, but it didn't make it easier. I kept in mind everything he'd told me.

The next day, I followed him as he took care of the business of preparing for the next day's council meeting. I was exhausted by the end of the day and all I did was watch while he fielded phone calls, emails, people coming by. I was impressed by how well he handled everyone. Those who were angry, he calmed and listed to, working on understanding what they believed the problem was and offering what he could as a solution or adding it to the ever growing list of items to be discussed in the meeting.

Over lunch, a whole ten minutes when the phone didn't ring and the door didn't open, he showed me the list, divided between open, closed and legal topics. Legal were 'court cases' that required a jury. The other two categories were legal or social but could be determined by the council. He also explained that all subjects were time limited, ten minutes to discuss closed topics, thirty for open to allow some discussion. Legal topics had an hour. If more time was needed, a special session could be called.

Over dinner at the same diner, he explained that there were contingencies for setting up an actual court system but with the population being just over five thousand, including the children, there wasn't a need for a court yet. And, though there were lawyers, none of them had judiciary experience. A guy judge was rare and unlikely to give up his position, even if he were 'predisposed' towards the community.

Every time we talked about the future of the community, I was impressed by the amount of forethought put into all their plans as well as the amount of time he spent thinking of the future. I knew it was also an indication of how our relationship, if we had one, would go. Sedona would be first in his mind, even if I were in his bed. While we talked legalities, I wondered if I could be the 'other man.'

I wondered that neither the thought of being the ‘other man’ nor the idea of being in his bed bothered me, as it should have. Did I have a 'predilection' to the community or was this tolerance simply rebound for being dumped so suddenly and harshly?

I knew better than that, though. I knew rebound wouldn't change something so deeply ingrained. So, the only actual answer was that I was predisposed and had lacked proper exposure to know it.

That was a fallacy, as well. I knew it was. After I put in my notes from our dinner conversation that night, I surfed the web for what I could find on sexuality and attraction between two guys. Most of my time was spent sorting out porn sites from legitimate research sites. There really wasn't a lot about attraction between two guys, but what I did find out was that in cases of 'sudden change,' attraction was often physically begun by circumstances and emotional attachment by psychological compatibility. There weren't long term studies on the stability of those relationships, though. But, given that they were illegal, that wasn't really surprising.

I searched for rebound relationships. What I found there was more reassuring. A 'cooling off' period was strongly recommended. Those that continued after a hiatus tended to be very stable. Anthony must have known about this research. I began to really believe he was serious about me, about...about loving me, which had the effect of making me respect him more and wish the month was already past, that I didn't have to leave. That he cared that much about me, about us, was...

I don't think I've ever been loved that way before.

It was going on two in the morning when I went to bed. I had to be up at six in the morning to be able to sit in on the closed council session. I'd been asked not to attend the previous council session as there were some who had been uneasy at the idea. They'd voted at the last session to allow me full access, including the closed and judicial sessions.

The day was condensed into an article. I really don't feel the need to bore you with the inner workings of bureaucracy. Needless to say, at points I was bored, but I learned a lot about community, council and Anthony. I was actually looking at him as a potential...what word do I want to use? Provider? Partner? Mate? None of them felt right.

It was close to midnight by the time the council let out. I was stumbling pretty badly as we went back to his car. I think I might have dozed during the last couple of hours. I'm sure Anthony had to be more shot than I was, but he supported me on my way to the car and helped me into the house, too.

“You're a great guy,” I mumbled as he helped me into my room. I felt drunk.

“So are you, Steve. Now, go to sleep.” He was trying to get me to lie down and I just didn't want to.

“You meant it, didn't you? What you said?”

His voice was very soft as he said, “If you do as I asked, I'll welcome you back, Steve. I promise you that. Now, please, go to sleep. It's been a very long day.”

I let myself be put into bed, still dressed.

Anthony took off my shoes before leaving the room.

The more of the little things to take care of me he did, the more I wanted him to do. And, the more I was sure I'd be back.

The next morning, I woke at almost eleven. By the time I got a shower and dressed it was almost noon. Anthony was just coming out of his room, the imprint of his pillow case still on his cheek. I couldn't hold back a smile. “Get a shower. I'll make coffee,” I said.

“Better make it right,” he growled before turning back into his room.

I found this oddly endearing, to how the wonderfully benevolent man I'd been seeing could be grouchy and ill-tempered before he had coffee made him more human, more real. More desirable.

While making the coffee, I thought about the women I knew, sorting through which were single and had expressed any form of interest in me. It felt like betrayal, but if I was going to come back as soon as possible, I needed to start with dating as soon as possible.

He came out of his room with his hair still wet and only slightly less grouchy. I handed him a cup and the pot of coffee, still not entirely sure how he took it. He poured himself a cup and drained most of it in one pull. He refilled his cup and moved to the table, taking the pot with him. I had put cereal and bowls on the table. He needed to go shopping and there wasn't much else to eat. I brought the milk over and he was pouring himself another cup as I sat.

“So, I take it the coffee's good?” I asked lightly

“Yes,” he growled into his cup.

I hid my smile by pouring a bowl of cereal.

“You will do as I asked?” he said, somewhere between a question and a demand.

I swallowed and nodded. “I've been thinking about the women I already know and had thought about at least dating before I came here.”

He didn't look away from his coffee cup, just nodded.

“I figured someone I already knew and liked would fit your instructions better than someone better than someone I just met in a bar.”

His eyes never left his cup. “If you fall in love, if you find her your ideal, call me long enough to say good bye and then forget me.”

I started to reach out, to protest and stopped myself. “I'll call you a month from when I get home, one way or the other.”

“And not before,” he said firmly.

“And not before,” I repeated even though the thought of not being with him hurt and the knowledge I couldn't call him when I got home made my gut twist.

He finished the pot of coffee. “We both have a free day today. Was there anything you wanted to see?”

“Oak Creek Canyon,” I said after a moment.

He gave me a wry smile. “Didn't peg you for a back-to-nature type guy.”

I shrugged. “I'm not really, but Richard did comment on it several times, so I thought it'd be nice to see.” Actually, what Richard had said was that it was Anthony's favorite place.

“Fine, we'll go. We'll grab dinner at the diner on our way home, too.”

I should have taken that for the warning it was. We hiked into the canyon over the cliffs, rocks, roots and an actual creek. Most water courses in Arizona were dry most of the time. But, Oak Creek, as I learned later, was one of the few that has water in it most of the time. Even though I was ready to die by the time we got back to the car, I knew it would be a great place to die.

“That is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” I panted, leaning against the car.

“It is,” he said warmly. I looked over and his eyes were on mine.

I felt myself blush. “Thank you for spending your day off with me.”

“I really wish you didn't have to go,” he whispered before moving to get into the car.

When I got in, there was something that made me feel like that last statement wasn't supposed to be mentioned. Dinner was again a little awkward, but that settled out as he told me about the Grand Canyon.

Being native, I've never gone. I wanted to go with him. “I suppose I'll need to find a tourist,” I said lightly as we relaxed at the table with drinks. I had a scotch. He had coffee since he was driving us home.

Anthony looked away, but I could see the pain on his face.

“What is it?” I asked softly. When he shook his head, I pressed, “Please, tell me.”

“I...I want to go with you,” he whispered. “When I was last there, I saw this place that seemed made to make love in.” His voice barely crossed the table and his cheeks were pink.

My face burned. Things low in my body tightened and I couldn't help gasping. I tried to cover it up by taking a quick drink but that started me coughing.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, handing me a glass of water.

“No, it's not that. I just didn't expect such a direct answer,” I stammered out when my coughing was under control again. “I asked, pressed for it.

“You did,” he agreed dryly. It was the last thing he said for the rest of the night other than 'good night' when we got back to his place.