Happy Alone (part I)
Happy Alone (part I)
Songs:
Happy Alone, by Kings of Leon
John the Revelator, by Blind Willie Johnson
Hand Me Down My Silver Trumpet, Gabriel, by Mahalia Jackson
Jesus is Coming Soon, by Blind Willie Johnson
Chapter 9
Nacho made himself comfortable at the breakfast table, and Caleb had no other choice but to start the coffee machine.
Curiously, neither one was much of a talker. They were used to dealing with each other on a more primal, natural level, where words were not necessarily needed. Friends since childhood, they read each other’s expressions without difficulty or fail. Nacho knew just about every nuance of Caleb’s character, put up with his moods, acquiescent his needs, yet remained independent, and aware of Caleb’s love and dependency on him. Due to Caleb’s often-tricky personality and his unorthodox childhood, he didn’t have a good grasp on how to form and maintain relationships, especially those that involved people outside the family. So often, for all this popularity, and even for all the women that Caleb got, he was naturally a lonely person. His brothers were his primary friends, and the obsessive, complicated closeness that they shared stemmed from this very loneliness.
But here, Nacho knew that he had to cut to the chase. Because this was weird and unusual and unexpected and completely out of character. He was sure that Caleb has fallen in love. Nacho didn’t even know that Caleb was really capable of loving a woman, but it seemed that this one got under his skin. The way he spoke of her, the way he acted around her, the way he became a different, kinder, more thoughtful man when she was with him, the way he held on to her, and turned borderline psychotic when she left him, even for a few hours, all these signs pointed to one conclusion—love.
Caleb placed a mug in front of Nacho, but didn’t join him at the table, preferring to stand, hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans, the way he always did when he was uncomfortable. Nacho lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He offered one to Caleb, and to his surprise, Caleb accepted, even though he hadn’t been smoking for months now.
“So, what do they want?” asked Caleb, annoyance permeating his stance and entire disposition. He smoked quickly, the way he used to when he was a chain smoker, and was done with his cigarette in a matter of moments, bumping another one off Nacho and lighting up.
“You seemed happy,” said Nacho, “not so much anymore.”
“I am still happy,” disagreed Caleb, “or at least was fifteen minutes ago.”
“I am not the enemy,” reminded him Nacho. “The guys want to know what’s going on…with you…with this girl of yours…”
“She has a name,” abruptly reminded him Caleb, biting his lip.
“Sorry. You know, everyone likes her. She is really pretty and funny as hell and smart,”
“But?”
Nacho shrugged,
“No buts. I guess we haven’t seen you like this before. I mean you are all different with her,”
“She makes me different,”
“Why?” wondered Nacho, clearly confused. He sipped his coffee, and waited for Caleb to answer. But Caleb remained silent. Whether he was considering the question, didn’t know or didn’t want to answer, Nacho wasn’t sure. Suddenly Caleb threw,
“She isn’t pretty. She is beautiful. Have you ever seen how her hair shines in the sunlight, like a halo of black gold? Or how her eyes sparkle…When she laughs especially.”
“Is it because she was a virgin?” blurted Nacho, “you popped her cherry? And you think she is all that?”
“Her cherry, and whether I popped it or not, is none of your fucking business. Let’s leave her. What do you want? I’d rather be in bed, sleeping.”
“Guys want to know when you are coming back.”
“I am not,” flatly said Caleb.
“Don’t be stupid, bro,” said Nacho pacifically, “bring the woman…whatever you need. But you got to record a new album and everything’s been arranged and set up. Let’s not go nuts here.”
“No,” Caleb shook his head, “I don’t give a fuck about the album, or what y’all want from me. You’ve been living off my shit for years now! I fucking carry this band on my shoulders, bust my ass every night, write, sing…And what do I get in return? Shit on a plate!
“The one time I am happy with a girl, all I get is grief. Let’s see now how you fare without me.”
He lit another cigarette and chuckled crookedly.
“Caleb, you are letting your ego get the best of you,” said Nacho. “You are upset, you are obsessed with the girl, you are angry with Nate…I don’t know what the deal is with all of this. But maybe you need some time to cool off and chill here.”
“I’ll decide what I need for me. “
Nacho got up. There was no use talking to Caleb when he was like this.
Annoyed, bad-tempered, holding a grudge, pouting, convinced that there was a conspiracy against him, Caleb was impossible to reason with, and unpleasant to be around. Nacho felt bad for the girl, since she was staying here, to deal with all this.
“Dude, it aint fair,” he said, pushing the mug aside.
Caleb was quiet, lip quivering with a suppressed comment, blue eyes dark.
“You flipped the lid when Nathan hooked up with Jessie. You fuckin’ cried, man! You still can’t talk to her properly. So…yes, you think that different rules apply to you, but really—Nate is also kind of upset about this whole thing,” and Nacho made a wide gesture with his arm. “We aint never seen you in love before. Kind of a new experience for everyone, so cut us some slack.”
“You’ve said your peace, so go,” said Caleb rudely.
Nacho shrugged and said,
“If that’s how you want it. I wish you’d all grow up already. I aint summoning Aunt BettyAnn again, to pull you two apart.
“Figure it out yourself.”
“Sure will.”
“So I am telling them that you aren’t coming back?” he reiterated.
“Not any time soon. If I quit, the band ends. But I can still do things…Will write country music or something.”
Nacho rolled his eyes a little, but didn’t answer.
“All for a piece of ass,” he then muttered and walked to the door.
“Did you fuckin’ see that piece of ass?” chuckled Caleb. He wasn’t angry. He was proud, and impressed, with himself, for nailing another beautiful woman. Only this time, the joke was on him, and it was he, who was nailed. Nacho wondered if Caleb realised that.
She recognized the voices downstairs, but didn’t listen to what was being said. Naked, she stayed in bed for a while, laying unmoving, trying to think, but being greeted with mush in her brain, a wild scattering of thoughts. Then she giggled, thinking that the first time when they tried to actually have sex in a bed, didn’t work out as usual. It was clear that there would be no circumstances under which they could make love like two normal people. She got up and went to take a shower. When she was done, she found that he did not return, but the house was quiet. Nacho—she was pretty sure that it was his voice that she had heard—was gone. Since the clothes that she bought were downstairs, in unpacked bags, all she had to wear was Caleb’s threadbare t-shirt. The closet was far from full. For a rock star, the man barely had any clothes. He always wore the same few t-shirts, flannel shirts, jeans, and even shorts sometimes. She laughed a little every time she saw him in shorts, his skinny legs, which greatly diminished all that rock god swagger that he possessed otherwise.
It was smoky downstairs, and the air reeked of tobacco. She spotted a large mound of cigarette butts on top of a saucer left on the kitchen counter.
“Good morning, you sexy thing,” the big familiar hands clasped her hips and he pulled her back, onto himself. The large brown arm lay over her chest and she pressed her lips to the coarse, sun-lightened hair. “Fetching, fetching,” he murmured in her neck, fondling her through the thin t-shirt. Her full breasts strained against the material and he filled his palm with the delicious heaviness. He smelled heavily of tobacco, especially when he turned her head to him and kissed her mouth. She stroked his stubble-covered cheek, and felt how he melted against her, as if she at once gave and took his strength.
“Since when did you start smoking again?” she inquired, turning around, kissing his eyes and the corners of his mouth.
His arms tightened around her waist and he kissed her harshly, deeply, with a hard, long kiss, a breath taker. His hand tangled in her long hair and he pulled her closer, crashing her body against his, needy, almost brutal. She held onto his massive shoulders, surprised by the intensity of his fervor. His palm grasped the soft flesh of her bottom and he pressed her close to his groin, forcing her to feel the rising need inside his jeans. In one hop, she lifted herself off the ground and wrapped her arms and legs around him, embracing him like a weeping willow—his favorite tree—their limbs intertwined, their lips meshed together, their hair amalgamated, being almost the same colour, and sticking to their damp flesh. It was a hot morning, and the open windows let in blistering, humid Tennessee air. He was warm and sleek with sweat, and slippery against her searching fingers, as she impatiently undid the zipper on his jeans. The only relief from the searing heat of late October was the cold wall, again which he pressed her firmly. The old record player was playing ancient, scratched gospel record—Mahalia Jackson and “Blind “Willie Johnson, just closing on “Hand Me Down My Favourite Trumpet, Gabriel”, and starting on “Jesus Is Coming Soon”. It felt sinful, yet natural to her, even as the scratchy voice on the record spoke of Jesus. But here she was, with a preacher’s son, in this kitchen that smelled of tobacco, cigarettes and apples, tasting his sweat with her lips, his cross catching a ray of sunlight. It seemed like a perfect morning, with just the two of them, and no one around. She was happy, alone with him. He pushed her/his t-shirt up and over her breasts, baring them to his lustful gaze, just as he slid firmly into her. She was hardly prepared for the overwhelming size and heaviness of him, and gasped loudly, from both pleasure and pain, squeezing his back so tightly that he winced.
“Sorry,” he muttered, his tongue making a luxuriant swipe over her neck, lips stilled at the base of her jaw, feeling the rapidly beating heart, the pulsating vein. He stayed unmoving, waiting for her to adjust, feeling her thighs closing around his hips, her surprisingly strong hands kneading his back and shoulders.
“It’s all right,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his eyes, as a long, slow push by his pelvis produced a lingering, loud moan from her, and he gasped with enjoyment, supporting her weight in the cradle of his palms.
“Oh, how do you do it that it’s so good?” she groaned, head thrown back, the long column of her throat exposed to his hungry kisses, her lovely pink breasts bouncing with every tentative, careful thrust of his member.
“I aint that good,” he laughed, biting her ear with his sharp little teeth. She stroked his face and pulled him closer, now sleek against the shaft, her long legs pressing around his thighs.
“I beg to differ…”
“You are just in love,” he said softly, and kissed her lips with a gentler kiss, his eyes luminous, like blue ice chips.
“So are you,” she said bluntly, looking straight at him.
“So I am,” he agreed. “Easiest thing I’ve ever done too.”
He bit her shoulder briefly, slipping his mouth down her warm skin, thrusting thoroughly, deeply, feeling her with the heat of his throbbing shaft, pushing into her willing body, always trying to keep her closer and let the moment last. The hair on his stomach brushed against her belly, making her almost giddy with pleasure, since she often enjoyed the strangest sensations, the oddest parts on his body. Luckily, the difference in their height was just enough for him to dip down and bite her nipple. It grew in his mouth, as he licked it with the sharp, pointy tip of his tongue, and she shuddered, digging her fingers into the powerful thickness of his arm. There was something deeply intimate about this, being wrapped around her man, his every thrust expertly driving her to a frenzy of moaning and pleading, his mouth switching between her breasts, pulling on her aching nipples, making them swell against his unrelenting tongue.
“Caleb!” she roared, thinking that she’ll bruise him with her grabbing, but her hips undulated against his pelvis, pushing strongly at him, gobbling all of him with a hunger that matched his own. “For G-d’s sake…”
He grinned and shook his head, muttered,
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain…”
“I am not thinking of the Lord!” she cried out, and then gasped breathlessly, “Oh my G-d…Oh my G-d…”
“Blind” Willie’s scratchy, sandpapery voice, so oddly similar to Caleb’s, sung in the background of “John the Revelator” and the world imploded with warmth and golden light. Caleb pressed his mouth to hers, catching her wild panting and gasping, savouring the oncoming climax that always wrapped and turned her inside out, roping him in with her. The strong muscles of her womb pulled and squeezed him tightly, and her still-virginal stiffness was so pleasurable, that he barely had it in him to contain himself and not ravish her brutally, or spill his seed. Gathering all his strength, he held her up with just one hand, while pressing his other into the wall, seeking strength from the cool bricks. Pushing her roughly into the wall, he pumped impatiently and brusquely, licking her cheeks and lips, coaxing every bit of her to give up. Against her wetness, his movements became fluid, and the unstoppable bumping didn’t hurt her, as he feared it would, against the roughness of the bricks. She shuddered and cried, kissing him riotously, feeling her swollen clit explode against the thickness of his cock. He returned to her breasts, dragging his lips between then, tasting the salty sheen of sweat, before popping her nipple in his mouth, using his long, able tongue to the fullest against the swollen tips.
She marvelled at how long he could hold out, being so long on the edge, brought to the brink again and again, but she also knew that her orgasm was something he loved to watch, and enjoyed savouring, but then at last, there he was, warm and slippery, calling her name, a severe press into the wall with a few final, lingering thrusts. She squeezed his chin and pulled his face closer, kissing his mouth.
“Oh, delicious you are…” he smiled, kissing her back.
She tongued the tasty wetness of his sweat off his neck and shoulder and he finally released her from his hard grip, so she could set her feet on the ground. Carefully, he pushed the t-shirt that she was wearing down, and worried,
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, no,” she stroked his face and kissed his chin. “Just took me by surprise.”
“Ah…sorry. But when I saw you there, standing, so hot…so beautiful…well, what the heck am I supposed to do with myself?” he smiled crookedly.
“You should bang me against the wall!” she laughed aloud.
“Then we have the same idea…”
They moved into the kitchen, and he poured her coffee, setting it on the table. She made herself comfortable on the chair, bringing her knees to her chin.
“So who was it? In the morning?” she asked, sipping the steaming coffee.
“Nacho,” he answered curtly. She knew that he wasn’t in the mood to discuss what was said, but she wasn’t going to play along.
“Want pancakes?” he asked, taking out bowls and eggs from the fridge.
“Sure. Sounds good,” she took another sip of coffee and then asked, “and what did Nacho say?”
He was quiet for a while and then said,
“Nothing much.”
“Must have been something, if he made the trip here.’
“He brought your things. Your clothes, purse. Now mom and dad can keep tabs on you, and you can continue on lying to Uncle Gus.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes.
“You are making me lie to Uncle Gus!”
He chuckled wickedly and nodded.
“I can always tell him the truth, if you want me to,” he proposed.
“Can you please talk to me?”
“There is nothing to say! I want this to be a nice morning!”
“It is a nice morning. So don’t make it not nice. I want you to be happy, and I think something is going on between you and your brothers, that’s making you unhappy. I, for one, don’t want to be in the middle of it, or the cause.”
“Girl, you give me what I need. Loving you makes me happy. Just seeing you, in the morning, in this t-shirt, was like a breath of fresh air. So there is nothing that you are doing that’s making me unhappy.
“My brothers…well…we’ll see what will happen there.”
She shook her head stubbornly and said,
“It’s no longer just you, or you and your brothers. There is your band, and all the people who depend on you for their livelihoods. Even Nacho…You can’t be so blasé about it.
“You’ve devoted too much time and effort to this band, just to throw it away on a whim.”
“I love you, but I’ll have to decide on that myself,” he said firmly, his face set.
She kept on shaking her head,
“No. Not really. Because if you are doing this because of me, or to prove something, then I can’t stay here and just pat you on the head, with approval.
“Think about it.”
“You’ll leave me?” he demanded, face changing instantly.
“I would. To save the Kings,” she said quietly, feeling her heart hurt and her hands shake even as she said the words.
He stared down at her, silent.
…To be continued
