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“Hey, Jimmy?” Tango’s fingers, just illuminated by the last rays of setting sun, tapped a sticker on the surface of Jimmy’s water bottle. “What’s this?”
He glanced up at the simple rectangle with black, grey, white, and purple stripes. “That—I don’t know if you remember that night where we first wound up talking about relationships. Back in that first August?”
“Yeah.” Tango’s eyes grew dimmer and softer. “How could I forget?”
Unincorporated Eastern Oregon, 1863
By early August, even the nights were hot enough to give Jimmy trouble sleeping. He’d heard, as they were making their way out west, that they were in for hot, dry summers, but he’d thought it would be more exciting than the reality of this—being drenched in sweat as he tossed and turned in his bed.
“Can’t sleep?” Tango rolled over so they were facing each other on the bed.
“Did I keep you up? Sorry,” Jimmy whispered. The bedframe, cobbled together to replace a pair of mattresses on the floor, was still new enough it felt fragile. Out of place.
“Nah.” Tango rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t sleep either.”
“Oh.” Jimmy rolled over too to avoid just staring at Tango’s profile. The air passed in another few seconds of sleepy silence.
“What if we went outside?” Tango asked, sitting up. “I bet it would be cooler in the backyard.”
“What, slept on the grass?”
“We could take the sheet down with us.” He shrugged.
Jimmy rubbed his eyes. “We’d have to wash the grass stains afterward.”
“So?” Tango waved a hand. “All I’m hearing is another excuse to jump in the river. You can’t tell me that doesn’t sound amazing right now.”
Jimmy sighed and considered the hour he’d spend scrubbing out stains from their white sheets and the effort of wrangling them back onto the clothesline. Then he considered the prospect of finally getting some sleep.
“Sure. Why not.”
They jumped into action together, wrestling the top sheet off the mattress. Tango bundled it downstairs in his arms while Jimmy collected their pair of pillows and a few odds and ends to weigh down the edges. When he wandered into the backyard Tango was already lying spread on his back, hair fanned out around his face.
“Feel that breeze?” He said, turning to Jimmy and stretching out like a cat. Jimmy turned his face towards the open expanse around them and watched the still grass.
“I think you’re imagining the breeze, mate.”
“Whatever.” He made grabby motions for the pillow Jimmy still carried. “It’s much cooler out here.”
“That it is.” Jimmy flopped onto the ground next to him after handing him a pillow, cushioned by the thick grass. Around them it stood tall enough to make their little spot feel like a cocoon, cut off from the rest of the world. The sky above them twinkled with millions of stars.
The cows were off in the distance, out for the evening, and the chickens were mostly quiet too. Jimmy was left with the sound of insects and Tango’s gentle breathing. Maybe it was that that made him ask the question, break the carefully agreed upon boundaries of what they could talk about, or maybe it was the reminder their closest neighbor was most of a day’s walk to the east. Either way, he fixed his gaze tightly at the stars and spoke.
“Did you leave anyone behind when we ran?” Jimmy asked.
“What, like family?” Tango answered breezily. “No, I’d left my parents behind a bit beforehand. Keep meaning to send them a letter the next time we make the trek out to town, though.”
“Not family.” Jimmy said, and he bit his lip. “You know. Other relationships.”
“Oh.” Tango’s voice turned measured. “No, I can’t say I did. Living the bachelor life.”
Jimmy sucked in a breath through his nose and waited for the inevitable.
“What about you?” Tango said with a smile halfway between forced and easy, with a spark of genuine amusement but tight at the edges. “Surely a handsome fella like yourself had to have—”
“No,” he said quickly. “Nope.”
In the grass, insects continued to hum. Jimmy stared resolutely towards the sky.
“Did you ever want to?”
Tango sighed. “No, can’t say I did. You know, all my colleagues would be talking about wanting to settle down, have a few kids, and just—eugh. And especially all that goes into making a child. Eww.”
“Shut up.” Jimmy sat up, turning towards Tango. For a second his partner looked crestfallen, ready to curl in on himself. Jimmy scrambled. “No—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just—same! It always creeped me out.”
“And putting the ehh down there?” Tango made a series of noises before giving off a full body shiver.“
“I tried to talk to someone about this before and they looked at me like I was crazy.” Jimmy propped himself on his arms and stared off towards the west.
“Same here.” Tango sat up alongside him. “Maybe we are crazy. But at least we’re crazy together.”
“And doesn’t that sum up the whole venture?” Jimmy gave him a light punch on the arm. Tango laughed.
“Sure does. Crazy together.”
“They have a word for it, now. For people who feel like us. Asexuality—”
Gloucester, 2014
“Alright,” Grian said, slinging himself down on Jimmy’s mum’s couch like he lived there. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”
“Right.” Jimmy kept pacing back and forth in front of the mantle. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know where to start.”
“Spit it out, Tim.” Grian tilted his head back towards the ceiling in exasperation. “I don’t want to be here all day.”
“I’ve been seeing this girl—”
“—Wait, really?” Grian sat up. “You’re joking.”
“That’s not the point!” Jimmy whipped around. “If you’re not going to be helpful, you can just leave.”
“No, I—keep going, Timmy.” Grian leaned forward.
“Yesterday she asked me if I wanted to—you know, and I said I didn’t, and she got upset.” He went back to pacing.
“Have sex? Dump her.” Grian’s reply was immediate. “If she’s not going to respect your boundaries, that’s a red flag.”
“But I don’t want to ever.” He stopped again. “There’s something wrong with me, Grian.”
“All the way up here, on a school night, just because you—” Grian muttered to himself as he pulled out his phone and started typing something into it. He finished and chucked it straight towards Jimmy’s face. Jimmy grabbed it but then fumbled it out of the air before managing to grab it just before it hit the ground. “Read that.”
“Asexuality?” Jimmy turned it back towards him. “Grian, this is a Wikipedia page.”
“What I’m trying to say is that this is a perfectly normal, reasonable way to be.” Grian rolled his eyes. “There are lots of people who feel the same way.”
“You aren’t mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you!” Grian threw his hands into the air. “Well, I’m a little miffed you didn’t think this could wait til the weekend, but why would I care who you do or don’t want to have sex with? Honestly, Tim.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jimmy laughed a little self-consciously as he turned the word around in his brain. “It was pretty silly.”
“—Grian told me about it, back when we were teenagers,” Jimmy added lamely. “The sticker is a symbol, just like the rainbow flag—only, you wouldn’t know about that either, would you. Man, a lot happens in—”
“—A hundred and fifty years, give or take.” Tango finished. “But there’s a word, now?”
“Yeah! There’s websites and everything!” Jimmy’s eyes brightened. “Grian likes to buy me things with the flag on it sometimes. I think it’s his way of reminding me he has my back when he doesn’t like saying so. Don’t tell him I said that.”
“So we’re—asexual? Is that how you’d say it?” Tango asked.
“Or ace, for short, but more or less.” Jimmy shrugged.
“Man, that makes us sound cool.” He grinned. “You and I. Ace. I like it.”
“Cute,” Scar said as he walked through the campsite. “You should still tell him about gay marriage, though.”
Tango squinted. “I’m assuming based on context that gay means something else here.”
“They let men marry men now. And women marry women. Whatever you want, really.” Scar shrugged.
“Man, I like the future better.” Tango sighed wistfully. “Or the present, I guess. It’s just nice to know that—”
“We’re not alone?” Jimmy stared at his shoes. “I know. I felt the same way. We never were.”
“And we’re not crazy,” Tango said. Scar made a face. “Well, maybe we are crazy, but not for this.”
“No.” Jimmy reached for his hand. “Never for this.”