
First love is never easy. But when the new boy in a small town is being secretly abused by his father, first love might be the only thing that can save him.With his mother busy in the kitchen and his drunken father reading scripture in the living room, Nathan can watch his schoolmate Roy from his upstairs bedroom window and dream about a life free from his father's nighttime prowling. Nathan feels safer with Roy in the house next door, and safer still with Roy beside him. Studying algebra shoulder to shoulder on Nathan's bed, one thing leads to another. But where will love lead Nathan?In a corner of the rural South blistering with hatred and petty meanness, Nathan and Roy must hide their love from their friends, church, and families. But that comes easily to Nathan, who is used to keeping secrets. He is only afraid of the one secret he has always kept, even from Roy the terrible truth about his father that makes his life impossible.Fleeing the house one night with only a blanket to shelter him, Nathan escapes with Roy on a camping trip to the haunted ruins of a plantation. As the boys track a path through the otherworldly wilderness, a sense of unnerving peace begins to surface in Nathan, along with the awful certainty that he will never return home.Dream Boy confirms the immense promise of Jim Grimsley's award winning debut, Winter Birds. In this electrifying new novel, adolescent gay love, violence, and the spirituality of old time religion are combined through the alchemy of Grimsley's vision into a powerfully suspenseful story of escape and redemption.
Chapter One
On Sunday in the new church, Preacher John Roberts tells about the disciple Jesus loved whose name was also John, how at the Last Supper John lay his head tenderly on Jesus's breast. The preacher says we do not know why the Scriptures point to the disciple; we do not know why it is mentioned particularly that Jesus loved John at this moment of the Gospels. He grips the pulpit and gazes raptly into the air over the heads of the congregation, as if he can see the Savior there. His voice swells with holy thunder, and, listening, Nathan's father leans forward in the pew with a vision of God shining in his eyes. He is thinking about salvation and hellfire and the taste of whiskey.
Nathan's mother is thinking about the body of Christ and the wings of angels. Her spirit lightens in the safety, the sanctity, of the church. Dark hair surrounds her pretty oval face. Light from the stained glass window tints her skin.
Nathan thinks about the body of the son of the farmer who owns the house Nathan's parents rented three weeks ago. Jesus has a face like that boy, a serene smile with dimples, a nose that's a little too big, and Jesus has the same strong, smooth arms.
Preacher John Roberts says, "Let us pray and Nathan bows his head with all the rest. With his eyes closed he pictures his family, father, mother, and son, neatly arranged in the church pew. The prayer means the sermon has ended, and the tautness in Nathan's midsection eases a little. The first day in the new church is over. Now everyone can stop staring. Dad, as if thinking the same thought, stirs restlessly in the pew. Mom sighs, dreaming of a Sunday morning that will never end.
Nathan pictures Jesus's hands spread against the wood of the cross, fine bones and smooth skin awaiting the press of the nail, the first moment of blood.
At the end of the service, the preacher stands at the door and shakes hands with the congregation as they leave. Nathan and his parents join the line. Various people from the congregation welcome them, so glad to have you, make sure you come back now, you'll like this church, there's good people in it. Dad has already been invited to the Men's Prayer Circle on Tuesday nights and the Deacons' Breakfast on Saturday morning. This will add nicely to Wednesday Prayer Meeting, Sunday evening Training Union, and the Thursday meeting of the Rotary Club.
After church, during the silent drive out of the town of Potter's Lake in the aging Buick, Nathan waits breathlessly. They have a house in the country this time, a farmhouse that stands adjacent to its more modem successor, at the end of a dirt road near what the local people refer to as the old Kennicutt Woods. The farmhouse and farmyard are neat and well kept, and the property includes a pond, a meadow, and an apple orchard. The farm family, Todd and Bettie Connelly and their son Roy, lives in the new house next door. They are back from church too, and Roy has already changed from his Sunday clothes and stands in the farmyard, hosing clay off his rubber boots beside the barn. Red clay has stained his white tee shirt, a smear the color of dried blood. Nathan tries not to stare, but Roy is two years older, and has the added prestige of being a school bus driver and a member of the baseball team. Roy catches him watching. He hesitates a moment, as if he too is waiting for a sign to speak. He nods his head in greeting.
All afternoon following Sunday dinner, Dad sips moonshine whiskey and reads from the Old Testament, the books of Kings and Chronicles. He is always quiet when they move to a new town. Nathan can rest easy today. Mom keeps Dad company in the shadowed living room at the front of the house. She is doing needlepoint, stitching the Alcoholic's Creed across cream colored cloth. Embroidered violets climb the bases of each letter. As she stabs the needle through the cloth in the circular frame, she keeps her eye on Dad. When Nathan passes by, she offers him a wan smile. He returns it. But there is always the moment when she cannot look him in the eye any longer. She searches her sewing basket for thread. Nathan climbs silently up the narrow stairs.
His bedroom in the new house seems airy and spacious after the smaller rooms he has occupied before. Large windows face the Connelly house over the high privet. A figure in the upstairs window above the hedge draws Nathan's eye.
Roy stands there. Maybe that is his bedroom, where the pale curtains fall against his shoulder. He has stripped off the dirty tee shirt and leans against the window frame. He has a smile on his face and a self-conscious look in his eyes, as if he knows someone is watching. The curled arm is posed above his head. He moves away from the window after a while. But Nathan goes on waiting in case he comes back.