Page 53 of Laying Low

“If I don’t now, I’ll never know it,” Reg told him truthfully.Like Dean, he could sometimes develop “blind spots” in his thought processes.With Dean it was often involved with human interaction.With Reg it was certain kinds of logic—he would be leaps and bounds above his peers in something like trigonometry, only to be felled by a basic geometry theorem that had never made sense to him.

Infuriating.

He’d been half afraid piloting the boat would be like that, particularly since Anthony needed him so badly.But Anthony had been teaching people to shoot for years, and his teaching skills—breaking things down into small chunks and then building on prior knowledge—were amazing.

Reg had asked him if he’d ever thought of doing something besides running the shooting range, and Anthony had shrugged.

“I like the business part of things,” he’d said.“And working with my dad.And working with the community to teach gun safety.There’s far too many wackos out there who buy a zillion semiautomatic weapons and think they’re God.It’s like you volunteering at the school, I guess.I feel like I’m using all my gifts to make the world a little better.”

Reg could love this man so hard.If only they had a little more time, a little more precious time, to finish the fall they’d started months ago.

Now Anthony placed a sweet, almost absent kiss on Reg’s temple, and Reg realized with a little pop that it was too late.He’d fallen.As Anthony hugged him tight before releasing him and wandering to the back of the small cabin to check on Reynaldo before curling into his and Reg’s cubby to sleep, Reg realized there was no going back, even if he wanted to.

All he could do was keep holding onto Anthony’s hand and hope they would never hit bottom.They would simply cling to each other and fly.

ANTHONY FELTlike he’d just closed his eyes when he heard Reg calling his name.

“Anthony—Anthony—you’ve got to wake up.I need help!”

And that did it, sending him scrambling out from under the wool blanket he’d been huddling under, a part of him listening with one ear to Reynaldo’s nasal coughing as what looked to be a basic head cold took hold and wracked his still-growing body.

God.Poor kid.What a stupid, ridiculous,awfulsituation.As he approached Reg at the steering console he thought sadly of the two mischievous kids, sneaking off to neck in the art room, and how none of that justified what Reynaldo and Ilia had been put through in the last four days.

“What’s up?”he asked Reg, pulling his brain back into his ears.

“There’s a patrol,” Reg whispered, and Anthony realized that he’d cut their running lights and throttled down the outboard motor before he’d called.“We’re close, but I had to veer west a little, and I think the current is pushing us that way some more.I am pretty sure the shoreline is ahead of us, but….”He bit his lip, and Anthony realized—maybe for the first time—that Reg had left his glasses behind… where?Where had it been?

“Oh, baby!”he said.“How long have you been blind?”

Reg grimaced.“Since this morning’s epic bazooka barfing.”He rolled his eyes.“And I’m notblind, really.I just, you know, shouldn’t drive without them.I figured….”He gestured toward the fog, rolling just off the top of the water.“I mean, I’m not so blind that I’d miss another boat.Or, you know, an orca.I mean, if it was an orca, we’d be dead anyway, but—”

Anthony found the chuckle welling up from nowhere, but he couldn’t stop it.Spontaneously he hugged Reg—hugged him so hard to his chest, he hoped some of that guilelessness, that clever, lovely singlemindedness and goodness would seep through to his heart.

“Do orcas attack boats?”he asked.

“Not usually,” Reg muttered, muffled against his shoulder, “unless they’re whaling boats.And hey, who can blame them?This is nice.This is really nice.”Anthony felt Reg’s body relax, his head resting against Anthony’s shoulder.“It’s so hard to worry about everything all the time.”

“I know,” Anthony said softly.“It’s okay, baby.I know.”

For a moment, they were alone, the boat rocking gently as the low engine hum bore them to safety under the cover of fog and darkness.

A shout in the distance broke them apart, and Anthony switched off the engine, letting them drift.

“What happens now?”Reg asked softly.

“We hold on to the wheel and wait.”

Later—an eternity later—the boat shuddered to a halt, rocking forward hard enough to send Reg and Anthony against the console and leave bruises, and to send the boys tumbling out of their hideaway under the benches.

One ran to port and the other to starboard, and they both saw the same thing.

The boat had run aground on a sandy spit of land, with a dense growth of trees beyond.

Hopefully, if they hadn’t gotten completely turned around, they were safe.

REYNALDO INSISTEDhe could walk.“I’m better,” he said firmly.“The fever broke last night.Do we still have medicine?”

“Yeah, for another two days,” Reg reported.He was still shaking off the torpor of the last available Dramamine, and though he was grateful he hadn’t thrown up in twelve hours, he was doubly grateful to be free of the drug.