His Girl, My Boy - Anderperry

Chapter Seven

The day before the poem was due there was a Society meeting. To prepare their poems, they all decided to read aloud and comment on them. If Todd was nervous when agreeing to the deal, it was a hell of a lot worse now. He and Neil hadn't talked much since the day before, and he hadn't seen Charlie or Neil so much as look at the other. Even though it wasn't his fault, he felt it was. 'If only my Boy were here,' he thought, 'I know he would get it.'

Todd also hadn't read to the group since the night of the play. He shuddered. Thinking of that night gave him a mix of excitement and utter dread. The way Neil's father had reacted... It was a wonder Todd even got to see Neil again. Somehow Neil had gotten it through to his father that acting was 'just a hobby,' and 'a passing phase.' He didn't like to talk of his cowardice on that night any more than a veteran would like to talk about his nights in the trenches. Todd never thought of it as cowardice, only survival. He reminded himself of this as he slunk behind the rest of the group, reciting his poem in his head and hoping nobody volunteered him first.

As per usual, Charlie went. When the boys got situated in the face, he stood up, looked around, smiled -&: recited from memory,

"The wind blows me around,

Swooshing, swaying.

"I cling to the ground,

Holding, hoping.

"Finally safe, all I can do

Is wait for the next gust to come."

Everybody clapped, because no one thought something Charlie despised so much could be so good. Even Cameron was surprised, and he... well he wasn't the fondest of Charlie.

"That was Sway, by yours truly, Charles Dalton."

"Who knew you had it in you? Charlie Dalton-"

"Nuwanda," Nuwanda interrupted,

"...Nuwanda, taking something seriously. Shocking." Knox was joking around, and everybody was laughing. Out of the corner of his eye, Todd saw Neil reading from a crinkled sheet of paper, sweating like a pig. He shuffled over.

"You okay?" He smiled, startling Neil.

"Yeah! Yeah... just reading my poem. I'm afraid it isn't too good," Neil shrugged.

"May I see it? I'm sure it's lovely." Todd held out his hand, which was lightly slapped away in a hurry.

"No, no, better not... I just don't want to read it tonight. Sorry." As miffed as Todd was, he understood where Neil was coming from completely. He himself was like that to everybody except the boy he was talking to.

"I get it. Mind if I sit with you?"

Neil grinned and scooted over. Todd returned the smile with his own shy one, and eased his bottom on to the damp rock. The chatter had died down, and Pitts wanted to go. They listened with contentment, commenting and jiving on their friend's work as they all read. At one point, Charlie asked for Neil's opinion on something, and in an instant, everything that had happened the day before was left in the dust. Todd was pleased. He was really, really pleased.

After Cameron read his poem, it was Todd's turn. Neil volunteered him, to his surprise and uncomfort. He slowly stood, careful not to hit his head on low hanging rock, pulled out a neatly folded sheet of paper, cleared his throat, and began.

"She is beautiful in the way

A He can be beautiful.

Slow tongue, chiseled face.

"He is beautiful in a way

That She can be beautiful,

Round and curved and clean.

"But when we look at She and He as two,

We're ignoring the prospects of

Love and Happiness that

Men or Women can have for one another,

"Man for Man,

Woman for Woman.

Beauty is found everywhere,

In every human;

And that makes all the difference."

They stared silently at Todd, who quickly resumed his spot next to a starstruck Neil.

Meeks spoke first, "Todd, that was incredible," And everyone else soon followed. He took the complements as they were given, enthusiastically. He hadn't thought it was that good at all, and he was worried he hadn't followed the prompt correctly enough. But to everyone else he had gotten it perfectly.

Neil put his hand on Todd's right knee and looked him in the eye. "That was beautiful, Todd. I loved it." And just the mere mention of his name sent pleading shivers down Todd's spine, the hand, the eye contact, everything about Neil in that moment made him want to tell him that the poem was about him, that he loved him and nobody else, and wanted to love him just as one, man to man.

"Thank you, that means... God, that means more than you think it does." Not caring what anybody would think, he buried his head in the crook of Neil's neck and kept it there.

And he was okay with it.