literature

Under the Red White And Blue

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It was the first Fourth of July that Tina would be home for in almost five years.  Of course, she was anticipating both the good and the bad, as they pulled up to the already crowded park.  It was a party for the whole neighborhood, so she was confident she could dive into the crowd, should her mother become ornery.  Of course, Tina doubted that such a thing would happen – after all, there was something in that voice of hers that could sooth her mother in moments.

“I don’t want to be here.”  Unless, of course, Dante’s bad mood stayed with him while they went to see their mother.

“God, you’re such a downer.  We’re just making a quick appearance, shake a few hands, talk to mom, and then we’re gone.  Nothing fancy.”

“This is Hell on Earth.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Dante, just go get wasted already!”  Tina made a dismissing gesture, and Dante sighed obnoxiously, moving away from his sister.  Dante hated family functions; part of the reason he hadn’t come home since ‘96 was because of these things.  His sister had followed him in 2000, and now it was just mom, dad, and Clare at home.

He straightened his green, button-down shirt and brushed invisible dust off of his khakis, sliding with particular ease between old neighbors and old school mates.  He shook the hands of one, stopped to chat with another, but it was all perfunctory – he could barely remember their names.

Finally, he caught sight of the shoddily set up card tables that counted for the bar, and made a bee-line for them, brushing off a high-school sweetheart who wanted to rekindle the flame.

“Sweet sustenance in a sea of fools,” Dante murmured in quiet exclamation.

“Drink enough of it, and you will become a fool yourself.”

What a soft, sweet, slender voice!  Who did he know here who had such a finely tuned accent?  His mind filed through years long gone, hoping for some recollection, but no, there was nothing.  No one in this stupid town had any accent at all, especially not a French one.

All of this was gone over in the seconds it took Dante to look around for the speaker.  His eyes met pale blue eyes, enhancing a slender, pale face of an equally slender, pale man.  He was deceptively young looking, but his voice bellied years that had not affected skin.  He was feminine, but had strong shoulders, and his shaggy blonde hair was brushed back behind his ear.  He had a small, thin goatee, and if without it, he would seem years younger.  His mouth was moving – he was talking.

“What?”  Dante’s voice seemed rough and callous against the new man’s own soft soprano.

“I asked if you remembered me.  You have been gone for a very long time.”

“I’m... afraid I don’t.”  He couldn’t bring himself to lie.  Fortunately, the stranger took it in good humor, laughing lightly and shaking his head.

“I had thought so.  Come on, we built a damned tree house in the middle of the woods.”  The instant recognition passed through Dante’s face, the stranger grinned widely.

“Gustave?  Jesus, you’re completely different!  Where’s the jersey, the ripped pants and flannel?  Where’re the gut and the New York accent?”

“A lot changes in nine years, Dante,” Gustave replied insightfully, “Everything is much different now.”

“I’m sure not everything’s changed.”  The hidden tone made Gustave smirk.

“Says the man who cannot even remember his high-school buddy.”

“Well, you’re dressed up for the first time I can remember, and you’ve got a French accent.  I think I’m allowed to be a little forgetful.  Besides, a lot has been going on.”

“So I hear.  You are moving on up the corporate food-chain, huh?  Always thought you were faking being smart in Business.”  And then, suddenly, there was a burst of noise, and the old high-school sweetheart getting into a loud and raucous fight with number twelve on the old high-school football team.  Gustave sighed, and took Dante’s drink from his hand.  “One moment.”  He walked over to the crowd, who parted slightly for him, as if afraid to touch him, and finally stood in front of the arguing couple.  With no adieu, he promptly tossed the drink over the two.  The girl screeched, and her hands went to her face, make-up running, and the man turned, and then Gustave ran.

Dante was surprised when the pale boy, followed by number twelve, made a beeline for him, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the parting crowd.  There was laughing, shouting, swearing, and all through the chaos of the crowd, all Dante could register was Gustave’s smooth, soft, dry hand holding his larger, rougher one.  He noticed, idly, that there was an inverted tarot card on the back of Gustave’s black shirt – the Hierophant.  How incredibly appropriate.

There was Tina, and mom, both arguing idly but more focused on the two boys running.  Gustave was laughing, and Dante realized in a sudden flash that he was too.  And now he was keeping pace with the shorter, pale boy, grinning the same way he did nine years ago when they had done a similar thing to a similar type of person.  They weaved through to the end of the party, where the trees surrounding the park rose up, green leaves glowing in promise of solitude and safety, and Gustave pulled Dante in just before their pursuer broke through the crowd.

It was much quieter in the woods, and the two caught their breath under a large oak.  “I have not run like that since ’98,” Gustave exclaimed easily, slowly slipping down to the ground.  Dante did the same, sitting across from the other, so that their knees touched.

“They went all out, didn’t they?” Dante wondered aloud, looking at the flags aligned across the canopies of the trees.

“They were planning on having some tables here, and wanted to have shade.  The trees have been thinned out here.”

“Oh.”  Dante felt inadequate next to his old friend.  Something was different – an imperceptible little trait had been altered, forever changing everything.

He remembered small bits about this part of the woods; particularly, a time when he was only twelve, young and mentally intelligent.  Of course, being a young boy, he had assumed that all his intelligence granted him emotional stability – that he didn’t need his teddy and that he knew what it was to like someone a lot.  Gustave and he had been playing hide ‘n seek in the forest on a cold spring evening.  It was getting dark, and it was just before dinner.  Gustave had popped up behind Dante, who had been hiding behind an old oak tree, and just when their friend called out, “Marco!” in hopes for a response, the pale boy had leaned in and kissed the other.  It was only a quick second, and then Dante blinked.  The other boy disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, and they didn’t think of it again until much later, when hormones became a part of it.

Dante tore himself away from the past and thought deeply about what had changed.  Was it the sudden loss of contractions in his friend’s statements?  Or was it just the fact that now they weren’t green-leaved teenagers anymore, but actual adults?

The sun was beginning to set.  The fireworks would be going off soon.  They should see them.

Gustave voiced this fact, and Dante agreed that yes, they probably should go and make another appearance, or at least, Dante should.  Gustave didn’t want to.

The pale boy held out his hand, and Dante took it, holding it tightly as he got up.  He didn’t know if the other boy was planning on moving away at that moment, but didn’t intend to chance it.

The second he was standing, the few scant feet of green grass disappeared between them.  Dante bent his head, and Gustave easily leaned up, his own confidence apparently turning both of them into arrogant little teenagers again.  Their lips met, and their belt buckles clinked together like champagne glasses, and they kissed right there under the red, white, and blue flags.

The kiss was chaste enough, and then Dante pulled away, hand dropping to his side.  Gustave smiled in a small, unobtrusive manner, and murmured that perhaps things didn’t completely change.

Dante heard Tina’s voice pierce the air with a swear, and he turned to look to the clearing momentarily.  He looked back to Gustave, but he was no longer there.  Dante was alone again in the unquiet darkness – just like they were playing hide ‘n go seek all over again.
Ahhh, the inspiration I get from really messed up things. This is a story I wrote for English class - we were supposed to write a "Guided Love Story," using a little worksheet. It asked us to name at least two people, one place, an object, a color, a symbol for love, and whether or not it would be a comedy or tragedy.

Of course, we were allowed to stray from those, but I kept most of it. We also had to include three of five lines from The Great Gatsby, and had to make the title (above) make sense for our story.


I felt like this was my creative genius, so I had to share it. Yaaay.

OMG SLASH and yes I plan on turning it in as such.


Ten points to whoever can find what my color, love symbol, and the object!
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