Shaking the Sugar Tree Part 13

"I'm flattered, but you know I don't like to sing in public."

"Please, darling?"

"Jasmine...."

"Please, sweetie darling honey baby, you hunk of a man, you?"

"When you put it that way...."

"I knew you'd say yes. You're so easy."

"You've obviously never tried to get into my pants."

"And never will, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Good," I said.

"And how's Noah?"

"He's great. His birthday is coming up."

"Really?"

"We celebrate it on July the fourth. His birthday is the fifth, but we always have a party on the fourth at Mama's house. You should come."

"I will. I came last year, remember?"

"That's right," I said.

"You'll have to give me directions again. Scratch that. I think I've got them in my e-mail. I'll check. So you'll sing for us?"

"You know I really hate it," I said.

"But you're good at it, Wiley. Honest to Christ! I don't think there will be more than twenty or thirty of us, like the last time. We had fun. Don't you remember?"

"We did," I agreed.

"All right, lover boy. I'll keep you posted. Don't back out on me!"

"I'll try not to."

"Don't give me that wishy-washy I'll try I'll try business. If I have to stop by your house and drag your a.s.s and your guitar to the protest, I will. And you know I will." business. If I have to stop by your house and drag your a.s.s and your guitar to the protest, I will. And you know I will."

Indeed I did.

"How's everything with you?" I asked. "It's been a while since I talked to you."

"And whose fault is that? We miss you at the UU. Why don't you and Noah start coming again?"

"We've been going to ma.s.s."

"Don't get me started on that. Going to ma.s.s. Please! Sleeping with the enemy is more like it."

"I don't take it seriously," I said in my defense. "We're Catholics. We go to ma.s.s. That's about it."

"Someday you'll come back from the dark side," she said hopefully.

Great, I thought, hanging up. One more thing to p.i.s.s off Mama and Billy, me singing at a protest and taking Noah. They had all but crucified me the last time.

23) A visit from Juan

AS WE WE sat down for dinner that evening, the doorbell rang. We have a light that flashes when the doorbell is pressed so that Noah can see when someone is at the door. sat down for dinner that evening, the doorbell rang. We have a light that flashes when the doorbell is pressed so that Noah can see when someone is at the door.

He jumped up.

Someone's here! he signed. he signed.

Go see who it is.

He went to the door, opened it. I heard nothing, but saw him signing. I got up, went to the door, and found Juan standing there, looking rather sheepish.

Come in, I signed. I signed.

He came in, regarding us both somewhat fearfully.

Are you okay? I asked. I asked.

I just wanted to see you, he said. he said. I hope I'm not bothering you. I hope I'm not bothering you.

Not at all. Are you hungry?

A little.

This is my son N-o-a-h.

We met, he said, smiling as he looked at Noah. he said, smiling as he looked at Noah.

Juan tucked into my baked chicken and veggies like he hadn't eaten for several days.

Noah looked at me, smiling mischievously.

Eat! I ordered sternly. I ordered sternly.

He grinned.

When Juan had taken the edge off his appet.i.te, I asked him where he lived.

I live with my mom, he said vaguely.

Where are you from?

My mom brought me here when I was five. I was born in M-e-x-i-c-o C-i-t-y.

You're an illegal?

He shrugged.

His signing wasn't that good. Adequate, but nothing more, as though he did not have many people to practice with.

Where did you learn to sign? I asked. I asked.

I taught myself with books. I used to have an American deaf friend. She taught me some things. But my signing is no good.

It's fine, I a.s.sured him. I a.s.sured him.

It's no good.

We understand perfectly.

You are nice.

Are you working?

I could not get a job this summer.

When he saw the look of questioning in my eyes, he added, Everyone went to Alabama except me and my mother. She stayed here with me. My father didn't want me to come. Everyone went to Alabama except me and my mother. She stayed here with me. My father didn't want me to come.

Didn't want you to go to Alabama? I asked, to clarify. I asked, to clarify.

Come here. America. I was deaf. He said I wouldn't be able to work. My mother said she wouldn't come unless he brought me.

I could sense the bitterness as he signed this information.

What's in Alabama? I asked. I asked.

Picking... food. He shrugged to indicate he didn't know the word he was looking for, which was probably "cabbage" or "cotton" and some such thing. There were also jobs that involved harvesting chickens and G.o.d knew what else. He shrugged to indicate he didn't know the word he was looking for, which was probably "cabbage" or "cotton" and some such thing. There were also jobs that involved harvesting chickens and G.o.d knew what else.

Can I use your bathroom? he asked suddenly. he asked suddenly.

I'll show you where it is, Noah signed, getting to his feet. Noah signed, getting to his feet.

When Noah came back, he signed, He's weird. He's weird.

He's hungry, I countered. I countered.

Do you like him?

I don't know him. I met him at the store.

He considered this thoughtfully.

I did did like him, on a purely physical level. There was a refres.h.i.+ng sweetness about him, a sort of painful honesty. Poverty had rubbed away some rough edges. like him, on a purely physical level. There was a refres.h.i.+ng sweetness about him, a sort of painful honesty. Poverty had rubbed away some rough edges.

He had a second, then a third helping, finis.h.i.+ng off the chicken and mashed potatoes, smiling sheepishly and apologetically as he did so. He had a long conversation with Noah about everything under the sun, and his manner was frank and easy, as though Noah were his little brother. Noah corrected his signing often, which Juan didn't seem to mind.

After dinner, Noah showed him how to play Xbox, which, to Noah's great astonishment, he'd never played before.

After Noah went to bed, Juan sat on my sofa and looked at me with eyes full of silent pleading, perhaps hoping to spend the night, perhaps wanting something more.

I have to work in the morning, I said. I said.

Can I stay here tonight?

I offered an apologetic smile. While the attraction between us was obvious to me, he had not mentioned it, had made no reference to it at all.

I'm a gay man, I signed. I signed.

I know.

He offered nothing further.

You can sleep on the couch, if you want to. I can get you a blanket and pillow.

I want to sleep with you.

I don't know....

Please?

He looked at me with anxious, hungry eyes. He needed some loving on, and he'd decided that I was the one to do it.

I don't really know you, I said. I said.

Please?

You want to have s.e.x?

He nodded.

I'm sorry, I said. I said.

His face fell.