Songs of Love & Death

Neither of us said a word.

There was a cooler full of cold drinks in the back of the car. Cody poured water into a dish and set it down for Lobo, then stripped off his shirt and poured the rest of the bottle over his head, shaking it off as unselfconsciously as if he’d been alone. I pretended not to notice, but my eyes were drawn to his naked chest, and I was standing so near that I could smell his clean, salty sweat and feel the heat that radiated from him. It was all suddenly too much; the surge of pure lust that I felt was so powerful that I couldn’t breathe. I had to close my eyes and lean against a tree.

“Want some?”

My eyes flashed open; I saw that he was holding out a can of cold beer. “Thanks,” I said, and took a quick gulp.

He looked at me with a sly grin. “Don’t know why you should feel weak. You been secretly working out with the weights in your bag?”

“No, but the mosquitoes must’ve got two pints out of me, at least.”

He laughed, and I gulped down beer more quickly than usual. But when he offered me a second, I shook my head. “No, I can’t—I shouldn’t—I—”

“I guess you need to be getting back?”

I nodded.

We were silent in the car, as he drove. There was so much to say, I couldn’t think how to begin. He seemed comfortable with the silence. I listened to the steady, regular panting from the backseat, and the hum of the tires on the road, and breathed in the musky scents of man and animal, and as I relaxed into the moment, I felt the hard, tight knot that had been inside me for so long slowly loosen.

Seeing my mailbox coming into view, I remarked, “That’s where I live, right there.”

And he turned, hard, cutting across the highway into my driveway.

I gave a little yelp of surprise.

“What’s wrong? I thought you said… ?” We were bouncing and rolling along the badly rutted track when he stepped on the brake.

“I didn’t mean you should turn.”

“You didn’t want me to take you home?”

Yes, and stay with me forever, I thought. “My car’s on campus.”

“Oh, right. Of course. Well, I’ll take you there, no problem,” he said. “Do I need to back out?”

“You can turn by the trailer,” I said, and a moment later we were in the clearing where my shabby home stood in solitary splendor. He looped smoothly around the clearing in front of it, and in a matter of seconds we were back on the highway.

I felt sorry. Why hadn’t I asked him in for a drink? So, I didn’t have anything but a box of green tea and a couple of Cherry Cokes; there was beer in his cooler. Then, as I was trying to think how to rescue the situation, he spoke:

“Listen, do you want to go get something to eat?”

I looked at him. He was hunched forward, staring at the road.

“That would be nice.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I don’t know about nice. I’d love to take you to a fancy restaurant, but Lobo wouldn’t be welcome.”

I laughed. “Are you kidding? You really don’t go anywhere without him?”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“Whoa, you’re sensitive! No, but people exaggerate. I’ve done it myself. And—well, to change your life that much—”

“Why is that so hard to believe? Haven’t you ever changed your life to suit another person? People do it all the time. They do it when they fall in love. You don’t live like you’re single when you’re married. Women do it when they have kids, every time. So I’ve done it for an animal—why not? I like him better than any—well, let’s say, better than ninty-nine percent of all the people I’ve ever met.”

We went to Whattaburger. It felt very retro, having a date at a drive-in, very old-fashioned teenage, and that was pretty appropriate to the hormonal rush his presence caused, a desire so strong it took away my appetite for anything but him.

HE ORDERED THREE hamburgers, and fed one of them to Lobo, bit by bit. When the two of them were finished, my own burger was still nearly untouched. Cody advised me to eat up: “You’re driving him crazy.”

“He can have it.”

“Something wrong with it?”

“No!”

“You’re not hungry?”

I shook my head. “The milkshake’s enough.”

“Go on, then. Cement your friendship with a burger.”

“The whole thing? I mean, bun and lettuce and all?”

“Unless you want it.”

I enjoyed watching Lobo wolf it down. As I turned away, wiping my fingers on a napkin, I noticed some college kids walking past, heading for either the Taco Bell or the 7-Eleven, on foot because, as freshmen, they were required to live on campus and not allowed cars. One of the girls gave the SUV a sharp look as she walked by, and I recognized her as one of my students. She saw me through the lowered window just as I saw her, and her eyes widened. I couldn’t help smiling as I raised my hand in a casual salute: yes, your boring English teacher does have a life outside the classroom! She lowered her gaze without responding, and hurried away.

Cody said, “Let’s go. Unless you wanted something else?”

“No, nothing,” I said, and while it was true, I had hoped we could sit and talk awhile. I still knew almost nothing about this man, except that he was happy to allow a wolf to set his schedule. “I guess Lobo wouldn’t be too happy about sitting in a drive-in after the food’s all gone.”

“Not when he can smell more burgers being taken to other cars.”

“So now what?” I asked, as he started the engine.

“Now I take you to get your car, like you asked.”

I didn’t want our date to be over, but I reminded myself there could be others, and so, as we headed toward campus, I invited them to dinner at my place the next evening.

I felt Cody’s happiness like my own, and I think it was.

I WAS STILL feeling happy the next afternoon, and even more excited as I anticipated the night to come, when I got the message that Nadia Sorenko, head of my department, wanted to see me. I wasn’t worried, not even when I saw how serious she looked as she gestured to me to take a seat, and I was totally unprepared for her first question.

“What is the nature of your relationship with Cody Vela?”

I gaped at her stupidly. “What… ?”

She leaned forward across her desk. “The kids call him the wolf-man. You know who I mean? There’s a disturbing rumor going around that you were seen sitting with him in his SUV yesterday evening.”

I bristled. “Well, so what if I was?”

She repeated, “What’s the nature of your relationship?”

I was afraid I was blushing. “I only met him yesterday. I’d hardly call that a relationship.”

She nodded slowly. “Not a business relationship?”

“What are you talking about? What business? And isn’t it my business who I talk to on my own time?”

“Not when he’s the local drug dealer.” She smiled a bit grimly. “You didn’t know? Oh, yes. And it’s not a part-time, share the joy, home-grown pot kind of thing. Have no illusions—he might be a local boy, but the man’s a criminal, with connections to organized crime.”

I tried to swallow. My throat was sore. “I—I had no idea.”