Nathan talks about the books he reads, about wanting a telescope, about the stars and planets of his imaginings. He talks about going to college if he can get a scholarship. Someday he would like to be a chemist. Or maybe an astronomer with his own telescope in an observatory up in the mountains, away from everybody, where the air is clear.
"You can't be away from everybody." Roy seems briefly troubled by the idea.
"Everybody but you," Nathan amends.
A shadow grows and fades across Roy's face. He wishes he did not wish. "That's good." Finally, though with a tautness to his voice. "You and me will be buddies even when we're real old. Don't you think so?"
"I hope so." Hoarse. Aware of the need to say only just enough.
They drive in momentary silence, afternoon sun fading beyond the car windows. One turn, then another, leads them further from home.
From behind the seat, sweating in a bag, Roy produces something startling, a cold pop-top can. Roy opens the beer and Nathan watches guardedly. Roy tilts it to his mouth.
"You drink beer?"
"Yes." Roy eyes the road quietly, the noisy car slicing through the velvet cascade of forest. "You reckon you can keep quiet about it?"
Nathan flushed. "I don't care if you drink it. It's all right."
"Answer my question."
"Yes, I can keep quiet about it. I can keep quiet about anything."
Roy slows for another turn, jaw clenched. At the intersection of dirt road and asphalt, he studies, for a long moment, Nathan's face. "That's prob'ly a good thing." Setting the beer between his thighs, he lays his hand tenderly on Nathan's. The moment of touch passes quickly, but the aftermath blasts at Nathan like torches. Roy says, "We're going swimming. That's where we're going."
"But I can't swim."
"Then you can watch me."
The new road is mostly gravel. The sky darkens toward sunset, the heavy end of day settling over forest, automobile, and sky. Near a path where a car and truck are parked, Roy steers the car onto the soft shoulder.
They park beside the truck, bright blue, and walk down a road into the forest, nearly dusk. Mud ruts are dried and hard, and the road is almost overgrown, strewn with large branches tumbled from a summer of thunderstorms. Nathan keeps close to Roy's shadowed side. Roy says, "I tried to drive down here one time. Got stuck. Dad 'bout like to had a fit."
"Where are we?"
"Near the river. About halfway to Somersville. You can hear the water if you listen good and the crickets ain't singing too loud." He has brought the beer cradled in the bag in his arm, and swallows from the open can. "We go swimming at the railroad trestle down here. It's way high up off the water. That's where I'm taking you. We need to hurry before it gets too dark to swim."
They follow the almost road to the railroad tracks, and then pick their way along the railroad ties. Late sunlight slants through thin pine trunks, spreading golden fire over the river. Nathan listens for any sign of the train, and Roy laughs at his expression. "It comes early in the morning and late at night. You can hear it a long way off. Don't worry. I won't let you get run over."
Ahead the trees divide and a spectral bridge rises between the banks, a stark metal framework carrying the train tracks across the Eleanor River. Distant laughter springs from the span, from the voices of unseen boys. Nathan recognizes them from the smoking patio at school, Burke and Randy, and something about the knowledge complicates the evening. Roy throws his arm over Nathan's shoulder with easy confidence, but removes it when the figures on the railroad trestle become more distinct.
Burke has begun to climb a metal ladder to the top of the trestle, a long way above the water. Roy scowls as Burke climbs, jaw muscles working. There is rivalry between Roy and Burke, Nathan realizes, slightly surprised. Burke reaches the top rung of ladder and swings over the rail, standing only a moment on the narrow steel ledge. Plunging forward, legs kicking, but silent. He hits the water with a dark splash.
"A boy drowned here last summer. Dived right into the river and never come up. They had to call in all these scuba divers to find him" Dead, tangled in some kind of weed growing from the river bottom, said Roy. While Burke, clearly visible, climbs from the riverbank in his dripping drawers.
Something about Burke's body makes Nathan embarrassed, almost ashamed. He finds himself watching Burke, who is rumored to be the strongest white boy in high school. His hard edges and crude thickness fascinate.
While at the same time Roy begins to undress, and Nathan watches him too. It is as if the fact that he knows he must conceal his interest in their bodies makes that interest all the greater, all the harder to hide.
Randy hoots at Roy. "Did you see that dive?" Indicating the laudable Burke, still getting his breath.
