Big Dump

Spur of the Moment 2

Between vinyls and scattered clothes, grades and school sweaters, I’m seeing Thom lie on his back on the bed, his hands on his stomach, legs bent in the knees, his boots standing by the bed. He smiles at me and looks out the window. I watch him like that, immersed only in my presence before I see Colin come in and jump on him, messing his hair and punching at his sides playfully. They roll on the bed and off of the bed while I laugh and rub my face, and throw comments at them.

Then Thom is sitting at out breakfast table, a cup of tea in his hands, talking briskly and smiling, drawing circles on the table with his finger, collecting the scattered sugar and joking at me. I see this in a blur, his voice echoing in my head without meaning anything and I answer in the same meaningless jumble, to which he grins and nods at me, while continuing the conversation.

Thom is slightly drunk and his car won’t move, stuck in the puddle of mud, so he laughs at Colin’s remarks and goes behind it, pushing his hands against it and leaning until his legs form an acute angle with the ground. The car is small, just as he is, and he uses his entire weight to make it budge and roll slightly, until it starts rolling faster and finally he hops inside and starts it. The whole time I watch the scene off our porch, wrapped in my jacket.

Thom smokes, coughs, and smokes again, one cigarette after another, the butts on the pavement. He is thoughtful as he stares in the dark while the rest of the house is loud with music. He thinks he’s alone there, and that’s his private moment when he doesn’t need to talk. He sighs and rubs his chin, throwing another cigarette out and then lighting up again, arms on his bent knees, staring up at the sky. I watch him from a little way off, leaning against the fence and thinking that I should go, but I can’t fight with the will to stay. Thom sits there in his unshared dark for a while before getting up and flicking the cigarette away before getting inside the house again. I remain there for a little while, enjoying the atmosphere.

Thom looks at me as a big brother would, ruffling my hair and smiling fondly. I look back at him with a grin and try to jump on him just the way Colin did before, but instead I land badly and poke him in the ribs with my elbow. He groans and squints at me while I apologize, but then he’s smiling again and his hands are on my neck. I hover over him, my hair drifting across his face and realize how really small he is, much smaller than a big brother would be. He realizes it too, I see, and his eyes change, now looking at me with a small mocking smile while I keep my hands on his pointy shoulders.

Thom’s drumming his fingers and hugging himself, rubbing his neck and sighing audibly while I sit on the bed across of him. I wrap my arm across his waist and pull him toward me, burying my nose in his stomach and closing my eyes. I stroke his sides, letting his scent surround me, my head cloudy. I worship him with the door open because nobody is home, and his hand slides down my neck under my t-shirt, rubbing my spine.

Thom’s looking ruptured in the morning, still sleeping, his mouth slightly open. I get up and walk to the stereo, stepping over his boots, to put in a vinyl. After that I come back to bed and watch him, trailing my two fingers down his cheek softly and touching the corner of his mouth.