Free Miles by Adam Henry Carriere

Christmas." 
    Felix
laughed, or, rather, exhaled in a short breath, like he might have started
crying, if he didn't think he'd ruin dinner or have his mother throw a knife at
him.  "But when I leave..."
    "If
you leave..."
    Felix's
lowered head shook slowly.  "When I leave, whenever I do, promise me
we'll spend my whole last weekend down here together, just doing everything,
all over the city, and when the weekend ends, we won't say anything. 
We'll hug each other until someone makes fun of us.  And then we'll walk
away, but stay friends, for as long as we can.  Okay?  It’s a
promise?"
    I
didn't know what to say or how to feel at that particular moment of my
life.  It was like I had touched something outside of me I didn't even
know existed, and was being touched, too, and had no idea what to do about it,
other than to want to feel that way for as long as I could.  So I
pretended it was all a little joke, as if we were in some idiot school play or
something.
    "What
if I don't like the way you give hugs?"
    Felix
gave me a hard stare.  "Promise?"
    I
returned his look meanly.  "Hey, I spent all last weekend crying,
like I was six, totally helpless, with no one there.  I hate feeling like
that, and I keep doing it, more and more, and I don't want to.  But I probably
will, maybe even with you." 
    “What
do you mean, feel that way or cry?  You won’t be helpless if I’m around.
And I don’t care if you cry in front of me. No one ever has before, but I won’t
mind.  Boys can cry, too.  Hell, I might start if you do!”
    I
exhaled hard, pulling my arm from Felix's shoulders.  "My whole life
is turning upside down."  I could feel the edge of tears welling in
my empty stomach.  I clenched my jaw and tried to ignore it. 
"Don't make fun of me or laugh if I do."  Arlene's rather
insistent voice from down the hallway broke the silence between us. 
"Promise?"
    "I
promise."   
    I
got up and took Felix's hands in mine, pulling him up from the bed.  He
blushed, but smiled, too.  I wanted to keep holding his hands, but he
snapped us both out of our preoccupation and stretched to put his arm on my
shoulders as he led me out of the room to a dinner that smelled fabulous.
    "You
better call your parents when we're done eating."  
    I'd
rather have put on a sock with a tarantula inside of it.
     
    *
     
     Jason
Cromwell welcomed me to his dinner table with a fearsome handshake and slap on
the arm.  Even as I took my seat between him and Felix, I could feel
Jason's sharp eyes sizing me up.  He was about six feet tall, graying, maybe
a few years older than Arlene, and seemed quite fit.  He shared his wife's
unusual November tan.  I didn't know it was that sunny in Cleveland . 
Like his wife, his clothes sported a western touch: snakeskin belt with a wide
silver buckle, jeans, fancy brown boots, and a denim shirt with silver collar
edges.  A pair of mom-and-pop Jewish cowboys - what would Johnny Reb
say?  Hee-haw! 
    We
began with a fantastic Caesar's salad and very fresh banana muffins, and headed
directly into the steak, filet you could cut with a fork, nicely broiled in
thin peppercorn au jus.  Felix and I exchanged amused glances when Arlene
and Jason hummed along to a soft country & western ballad playing on the
nearby cathedral radio.  I expected a polite, velvet-gloved interrogation
from Jason at any minute, you know, the new friend's first visit routine, but
we finished dinner in relative silence, Johnny Cash's "Home of the
Blues" notwithstanding.
    "What
a fabulous meal.  Thank you for having me."
    "I'd
have to die, waiting for one of my sons to give me a compliment like
that." Arlene dipped her fingers into her water glass and flicked a few
drops into Felix's face, who responded by picking up his entire glass,
threatening to wing it at his mom.
    Felix
cleared the plates from the table as Jason sat back and lit a large, dark
cigar.  "Do you guys have much homework?"
    "We'll
be done by nine,