Cloverleaf : Chapter Three

Part One : Sown

August 13, 2019 ▫ Interstate 275 ▫ Crossing the Ohio River

Ben told Karl about his family while they drove. He was the middle child of three boys. His mom had died when he was twenty. “After my dad had a heart attack two years ago, he went to live with my older brother and his wife in Lexington. I still live on our family farm in Shawhan with my little brother. I mean, younger brother. Hell, Josh isn’t little anymore. He’s six-two and weighs about one-ninety, but I can still beat the snot out of him.”

“What kind of farm do you have?”

“Grain and forage—wheat, hay, feed corn. That’s why I’m on the road a lot. We sell to horse and livestock farms in the Ohio River Valley. I was on my way to Fremont to pick up a part for a tedder after I dropped off a load of hay. That’s when I picked you up.”

“Did you always want to be a farmer?”

“I never wanted to be a farmer. I went to the University of Kentucky on a baseball scholarship and played varsity baseball during my freshman and sophomore years. I had some fantastic notions about playing professionally after college. Fortunately, my dad made sure I studied agriculture, too.”

“Why? What happened?”

“When my ma got sick, I quit school so I could be at the farm full-time and help take care of her. You need to complete three years of college to be eligible to play in a minor league. I only finished two years. But it all worked out. It’s a good life. I’m the son of a farmer, and my dad was the son of a farmer. And his father was a farmer. Baseball was just a pipe dream.

Karl saw the sadness locked away in Ben. It was like a sliver of light escaping under a door. He wanted to say something to comfort him, but he was pretty sure that Ben didn’t want that, and he didn’t want Ben to know how much he was starting to care about him.

“Where did you say you’re from?” Ben asked. “Are you a city boy?”

Karl told him about his childhood, growing up on a poultry farm in Darke County, Ohio, with his three younger sisters and stern Christian parents. “I knew we were poor, but I didn’t know enough to want anything better. We didn’t have a television, but I’d listen to the radio when my Pa wasn’t around. That’s when I fell in love with music and decided that I wanted to be a musician. My aunt Dotty gave me a guitar when I was fourteen. I kept it hidden in the feed shed until my Pa found it. That was almost as bad as when he caught me and Emil Shetler behind the horse barn with our pants down. I got a good beating for both.”

“Why did you have to hide your guitar?”

“Pa said it was a waste of time and money, and it’d lead to no good, but my mother persuaded him to let me keep it. Maybe he was right. It doesn’t matter. There’s no going back.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“No, whatever my life is now, it’s better than then.

Ben saw a twinge of sadness pass over Karl’s face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t ever want to forget home. What’s Shawhan like?”

“It’s beautiful and green. There are more trees than people and buildings put together. My great-grandfather settled there because it reminded him of Ireland. You should come to visit sometime. We can go fishing and skinny dippin’ in the creek.”

Karl beamed at the thought. “I’d like that, but I don’t know how I’d get there. Pa let me drive the tractors, and his truck sometimes, but I never got a driver’s license.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll come and visit you. I love it out there on the farm, but sometimes I get… lonely. That’s why I go up to Walton. Louisville, sometimes.” Outside of Peter and Ray, there’s not a lot of gay in Shawhan.”

“Who’s Ray?”

Ben hesitated, unsure how to explain someone he didn’t like very much. “Ray works for my older brother on his horse farm. He and Pete are together. Pete’s a good friend, but Ray and I don’t have much use for each other.”

“I heard that Peter Meers has a reputation for doing drugs and boys.”

“You shouldn’t believe bullshit gossip, Karl. Hell, if I was famous, they’d probably say that about me. Pete’s a good person.”

“Did you always know you were gay?”

“No. I dated girls in high school. I didn’t mess around with guys until college. Me and a guy who played shortstop hooked up for a while. There’s a gay bathhouse in Smoketown. We’d drive up to Louisville so the other guys on the team wouldn’t find us out. What about you? When did you know you were gay?”

Karl scrunched up his face, trying to look earnest. “Last night?” Ben burst into laughter.

“I’d drive the truck into Greenville every Monday to pick up feed for the horses. That’s when I met Zach. He worked at the supply store. He’s more beautiful than any man should be, so he was hard not to notice. One day, he offered to help me load the feed sacks into the truck and said he needed to get something out of the back room. He motioned for me to follow him, and as soon as we got back there, he pressed me up against a stack of feed and started kissing me. That’s when I knew. The day I told my parents that I was a homosexual, they told me to pack my things and say goodbye to my sisters.”

“Shit! Where did you go?”

“Cleveland. That’s where I’m headed now. Zach had moved up there a year before I left home. We’re best friends now. I had his address, so I hitched a ride and showed up at his door. He had a boyfriend by then, but he let me crash on the couch. I got a job in a machine shop and moved in with a friend of Zach’s who needed a roommate. That’s where I lived until I went to Nashville.”

“That’s pretty brave, if you ask me. I used to climb up on the roof of our barn at night and watch the planes flying over, wondering where they were going. I wanted to see the world. But after my ma…, after I moved back home…”

Hanging on Ben’s every word didn’t keep Karl from nodding off.

▫ ▫ ▫

Ben reached over and shook Karl awake. “We’re here.”

Straight ahead, a few hundred feet, lights glowed in the dusk. Lighting bugs twinkled across the fields like stars, and crickets chirped in the warm summer grass. Ben slowed down and pulled onto a gravel drive. “You were out for a while. I figured you needed the rest.”

They got out of the truck and stood before a large white colonial farmhouse with an open porch and candles glowing in the front windows.

“Nice, huh? Just like a Christmas card. I helped Danny fix this place up. It looked a lot different from this ten years ago.”

“Should I wait here?” Karl asked.

“Nope. These are my friends. Danny and I grew up together. Besides, we’re likely to be eating dinner with them if my guess is right. And I hope you’re hungry. Claire’s an awesome cook.”

Karl followed Ben up the stone walkway. Above the porch steps hung a weathered hand-painted sign.

“Sunflowers Inn ▫ Bed & Breakfast ▫ Welcome.”

When they reached the top step, a burly, bearded ginger threw open the screen door and greeted them with a smile that went from ear to ear. He threw his arms around Ben and gave him a bear hug. “It’s good to see you, man! And you must be Karl.” Danny wrapped his two beefy hands around Karl’s. “You fellas are right on time. Claire was just about to take the roast out of the oven. C’mon in. I bet you’re hungry. You hungry, Karl?”

“I am. Ben told me your wife’s a great cook.”

“Yup. That’s why I married her.”

But as Claire walked into the room, it was clear to see that her cooking was not the only reason Danny had married her. She was stunning, a natural beauty with a smile that made Karl smile. Ben looked delighted with himself when he introduced Karl to Claire.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Karl.” Winking at Ben, Claire added, “I wasn’t sure Ben had any friends outside the two of us. I hope you’ll feel welcome here. Ben helped us make this place what it is, so in a way, it’s his home, too. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, so why don’t you boys wash up?”

Danny nudged Ben and handed him the key. “Your accommodation’s ready for you, bro. Just like we talked about.” Ben took it with a small nod. He and Karl got their things out of the truck. The night air had cooled, and the light from the main house spilled across the yard. The cottage sat a little way off, nestled beneath old oaks.

Karl followed Ben into a warm, masculine room with a fireplace and a large wooden four-poster bed. Karl turned slowly, taking it in.

Then he saw it. A guitar case, lying on the bed.

Ben nodded toward it. “That’s for you, Karl.”

Karl opened the case. The hinges gave a soft click. There was a Gibson Hummingbird guitar inside. Karl’s fingers hovered over the strings, lightly touching them.

Ben stepped closer, his hand brushing Karl’s. “It’s not new, but Danny said it’s got presence, whatever that means. It’s for left-handers. Like you.”

Karl shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Danny works part-time at a music store in Sandusky, and I asked him to find a good guitar for you since somebody stole yours.”

“When? When did you ask him?”

“I called him on the way here, after you fell asleep. Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. But I can’t accept it. I know how much these guitars cost. And besides, you’ve got no reason to give me anything.”

“I want you to have a guitar, Karl. Maybe you’ll think about me sometimes when you play it.”

“I don’t need this guitar to make me think of you, Ben.”

The words hung there. Ben’s brow knotted up. Karl felt it immediately. He’d said the wrong thing.

“We should wash up so we don’t keep Claire and Danny waiting.”

▫ ▫ ▫

Ben was right. The dinner was delicious. It was Karl’s first home-cooked meal in a year, maybe longer. Much to his relief, Claire and Danny didn’t ask how he and Ben had met. He guessed that Ben might have told Danny when he’d called him, but they treated him like an old friend.

Ben thanked Claire for dinner and said, “We’ll probably head out after breakfast.”

Danny leaned back in his chair. “What’s your hurry, Ben? Why don’t you and Karl stay a little longer? We don’t have any guests arriving until the weekend, and I’m sure your brother can take care of the farm for a few days. We can have a cookout tomorrow night. I’ll grill some ribs and chicken and give Claire a break from cooking, unless you boys can talk her into baking some biscuits for strawberry shortcake. What do you say?”

“Well, I say yes, but it’s up to Karl.”

Karl was in no hurry for his time with Ben to end. “Yes. As long as we’re not imposing.”

Claire poked her head out of the kitchen and said, “Oh, you’ll earn your keep, Karl. There are quite a few chores that need to be done around here, and Daniel could use some help. Maybe they’ll finally get done with the two of you here.”

When they finished eating, Claire chased them off to bed, and they said their goodnights. The night had settled in, warm and quiet. The lights from the main house fell off behind them as they walked toward the cottage, the sound of crickets rising up from the grass.

Ben slung an arm over Karl’s shoulder as they walked. “You want to take a bath?”

Karl glanced at him. “A bath?”

“Yeah.” Ben shrugged. “Figured it might feel good.”

Karl hesitated, then sniffed his armpit. “It was warm in the truck, and I got sweaty. Do I smell bad?”

Ben laughed softly. “No. You smell great. I just meant… together.” Ben’s arm tightened slightly around his shoulder as they reached the steps of the cottage.

The night was turning cold, so Karl lit a fire while Ben filled the tub. They stripped off their clothes and climbed into the bath, moving against each other in the warm water. Ben nestled Karl between his legs and pulled him close. “We fit together, Karl.”

Afterward, they wrapped themselves in the soft cotton robes Claire had laid out for them. Sitting by the fire, they talked about everything and nothing, about books and music, the places they wanted to visit, all the things they hoped to do someday. They talked until it got quiet, their conversation consumed by the flames that flickered in their eyes.

Karl pulled Ben to his feet, opened Ben’s robe, then his own, and slid them off. He brushed his lips against Ben’s, inhaling his breath. They stood together naked, their cocks pressed hard against each other’s bellies. Karl twined his fingers between Ben’s and took him to bed. The savagery of the night before was gone. This craving came from Karl knowing he would have to say goodbye to Ben in a few days. His fingers were learning Ben’s softness and hardness. He wanted the memory of Ben’s body to stay in his hands, and when he took him into his mouth, the sinewy thread that clung to Karl’s lips sewed them together.

Ben held Karl close against his chest, rolling him onto his back. Then he pinned Karl’s arms down like a cross and gave him the only thing he was willing to give of himself.

▫ ▫ ▫

“Wake up.”

Karl opened his eyes to Ben’s face. Before he could ask anything, Ben pulled him out of bed and led him outside.

“We’re naked, Ben.”

“Nobody’s gonna see us. Look.”

Karl followed his gaze. A sea of sunflowers stretched out before them, seeming to go on forever.

“It’s something, ain’t it?”

It was the most beautiful thing Karl had ever seen, this galaxy of flowers turning their heads to the morning sun.

Ben took Karl into his arms. “How ’bout we go back to bed and make us late for breakfast?”

▫ ▫ ▫

That afternoon, Danny asked Karl to help him rebuild one of the fences. In the middle of inspecting the posts and shooting the breeze, Danny said, “So, how’d you meet Ben?”

Karl hesitated. He was afraid the truth might change how Danny and Claire felt about him, but he didn’t want to lie.

“He picked me up hitchhiking in Kentucky a few days ago. I wish I could tell you differently.”

Danny rested a hand on his shoulder. “I wondered if you’d be straight with me.” He gave a small nod. “It’s okay. Ben already told me everything.” He studied Karl for a moment. “You’ve caught feelings for him.”

Karl didn’t answer.

Danny sighed lightly. “He sees it, too. But Ben doesn’t know what he wants, Karl.”

He kicked at the dirt near one of the fence posts. “Far as I know, he’s only been in love once.”

“With Bo?”

“That’s not love.” Danny shook his head. “Ben met the guy I’m talking about in college. He strung Ben along—said he loved him, along with a pack of other lies, then ran off with somebody else.”

Danny glanced back at Karl. “After that, Ben told me he’d never let himself fall in love again. He’s stubborn that way.”

▫ ▫ ▫

One sweltering morning, while Karl sat at the kitchen table shelling peas with Claire, he looked out the kitchen window and watched Ben and Danny pull down an old woodshed out back.

The air shimmered with heat. Sweat glistened off Ben’s bare chest and trickled down his belly as he worked. Ben lifted his arm to wipe his forehead and caught Karl watching. Ben’s mouth curved into a small, knowing smile. In that moment, Karl wished they could have started out this way: flirting, courting each other. Not the rushed heat of a motel room, but this… whatever this was.

Claire glanced up from her bowl, following Karl’s gaze, then went back to her work.

The days settled into a rhythm after that. There was always something to do—fences to mend, boards to haul, weeds to pull in the garden. Ben and Danny worked side by side most of the time. They were close, like brothers. Karl spent his mornings with Claire, helping in the kitchen and the garden. Every day was filled with hard work, and in the evenings, Danny and Karl would bring out their guitars. And together, they’d play on the porch while Claire and Ben listened, the last of the light fading out over the fields.

After, when they were alone, Ben and Karl soaked off the day’s sweat and dirt in the bath. They’d climb into bed and lie naked together, disappearing into each other. Ben never let Karl fuck him, even when Karl clumsily tried once. Ben told himself, That’s not what this is. That’s not who we are.

A few days before they were set to leave, Karl found a brochure for a nearby amusement park and asked Ben if they could go.

Friday morning, Danny dropped them at the ferry to Cedar Point on his way to work.

Karl stood at the railing the whole ride across, watching the park come into view, coasters rising up out of the water, impossibly tall. They rode everything. Ben loved watching Karl experience all of it: the coasters, the noise, the deep-fried funnel cakes. Karl came off each ride wanting to go again.

They caught the last ferry back to Sandusky that evening. The sky had gone soft with the last light of day, and they decided to walk the rest of the way back to the Inn.

Karl slipped his arm around Ben’s shoulders as they walked. “Best day ever. Thank you.” Karl leaned in and kissed him just as a car passed.

“Faggots!” someone yelled out the car window.

It seemed like that would be the end of it. Then the car slowed. Headlights swept across the road as it turned and came back. It pulled up beside them. A heavyset man leaned out the passenger window, his sweat-stained shirt stretched tight.

“You pretty boys need a ride?”

They ignored him.

“Hey!” the man called out. “I’m talkin’ to you.”

Karl stopped walking. His jaw tightened as he looked at the car. “Thank you, no. We don’t need a ride.”

“Don’t be like that,” the man went on, grinning. “We ain’t gonna hurt you. Me and my buddy are just lookin’ to get our dicks sucked.”

Karl turned and walked over to the car. He got close enough to put his hands on the roof, then bent toward the open window.

“I said we don’t need a ride. And you’re gonna be driving a long damn way before you find anybody who wants to suck your dick.”

Ben came up fast behind him. “Oh, shit.” His hands came up a little, like he already knew this was about to go bad. “We don’t want any trouble.”

The passenger shoved the door. Karl hit it with his knee before it could swing open, grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, and dragged him halfway out the window. The grin was gone. So was anything he was about to say. By then, Ben had both hands on Karl, trying to pull him back before the whole thing turned into something worse.

The driver reached across the seat, hauling the passenger back inside. “Let’s go. It ain’t worth it,” The car lurched forward and tore off into the dark.

Ben stood there, still holding Karl’s arm, like he wasn’t sure if he should let go.

“Jesus, Karl…”

“I told you,” Karl said, his chest still rising, “I can take care of myself. And you.”

Claire and Danny were sitting on the front porch when Ben and Karl got back.

Karl started toward them to say goodnight until Ben caught his hand. “Come on,” he said, low, leading him back to the cottage.

Ben closed the door behind him. “I don’t know what to make of you.” He unbuttoned Karl’s shirt, slowly lifting it off his shoulders. He drew Karl close, inhaling the heady smell of the hot day’s sweat from his skin. They stared at each other; the air between them was thick with heat. Ben’s breath ghosted across Karl’s lips. His eyes never left Karl’s as he lowered the zipper on Karl’s shorts. He sank to his knees and slid the shorts and briefs down. Ben kissed Karl’s half-hard cock, almost reverently, and slid the foreskin back. He wrapped his lips around the head, swirling his tongue in lazy circles. When he pulled back, a thread of spit and precum clung to his lips.

“I want you to fuck me, Karl,” his voice low and rough.

▫ ▫ ▫

In the early morning, before the sun came up, Karl emptied himself into Ben for the second time. Sapped, he sank into Ben’s chest and fell asleep. Ben wrapped an arm around Karl and ran his fingers through his hair. He felt like he was coming undone from a feeling he never wanted to have again.

Chapter Four Coming Wednesday