“Tell me, my boy, what makes you so certain?”
“Your clothes. There’s no way you’d take me up to the mountains and mess up those clothes,” Ryan stated.
He has no idea what he does to me.
“Don’t judge my intentions by my clothes, my boy. I had no problem ripping open your dress shirt in my car. I gave no care about where the buttons landed. So, I can assure you that I would care even less about what happens to my clothes. Now, finish your breakfast so you can see exactly what I have planned for us, my boy.”
I chuckled as Ryan’s face paled when I told him that I simply didn’t care what happened to my clothes. If I wanted to take him up to the woods and tie him to my SUV while wearing wool slacks and a dress shirt, then I would.
I had no plans for that today. I just wanted to spend some time with him away from my home and away from his. We drove to the other side of town and parked along a crowded street that was lined with cars. I got out of the car, and I walked over to the sidewalk where he was standing. He was in the midst of an over-exaggerated stretch that pulled his t-shirt up in the front. It exposed his belly button, his lower abdominals, and a trail of hair that dove down into his jeans. His big yawn and stretch reminded me that he hadn’t slept well.
“Come on, let’s walk, Ryan,” I suggested and gestured with my head towards the direction of the art fair.
It had not escaped my notice that he jammed his hands in his pockets.
“Where are we going?” he eagerly asked, despite him being tired.
“Patience, my boy.”
“Is it the batting cage? I love batting cages. They’re fun and lets me escape for a while,” he admitted.
“Do you want to escape for a while?” I asked him as I thought about his night that was probably disrupted by nightmares.
“No,” Ryan said in a more serious tone than he had been speaking in just moments ago.
He lightly kicked a small rock that was on the sidewalk. “Is it the batting cage?” he asked again.
“You will see very soon, Ryan.”
“Okay,” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyhow.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just happy to be going somewhere with you and that you want to go places with me too.”
He had no idea what he does to me. How much he moves me and energizes me.
“I love you, my boy. Of course, I want to go places and do things with you.”
Hearing Ryan say that he was liked going places with me brought a smile to my face. We neared the entrance for the art fair, and he piped up.
“Las Vegas Art Fair,” he read from the banner that hung between two trees.
“Yes, they have various types of art, and I thought you’d enjoy seeing some of it,” I replied and led us to a cart that was serving coffee.
“I like art, Russell,” he replied. As I ordered two coffees, he yawned again and added, “I like batting cages too.”
I handed him his coffee and watched him sip it. I made a mental note to be sure to take him to a batting cage soon so he can flex his talent. Now that I think of it, it wouldn’t be a bad idea at all. He could show off something that he is very proud of, and I could watch this young buck in athletic motion.
“You’re tired, Ryan,” I commented as we began to walk. I looked down, and his free hand that was closest to me was still hiding in his jeans pocket. “Tell me about the nightmare,” I requested.
He was quiet as we strolled along. I knew that when Ryan was ready, he would talk. I would always wait him out. Ryan stopped when he spotted something of interest on a table close by. He led us over to the artist’s table with various objects that were made out of old, rustic metal parts. Little statues of people and objects were made of nails, nuts, bolts, and screws. Ryan’s hand came out of his pocket, and he picked up a small statue of a baseball player with a nail for a bat. I watched him admire the piece and then set it down. Anything baseball calmed my boy.
“I will take the baseball statue,” I told the artist behind the table.
As the man cut the tag off of it and began to wrap it up, Ryan started to complain a bit.
“You didn’t have to buy that for me. I have money. I could have purchased it,” Ryan said under his breath.
