The sound of cicadas rips through the air from the distant trees, seemingly in time with the currents of heat rising up from the earth. Zach stops and stands up straight, stretching his back with a grunt. He lifts his arms to flare like wings catching a breeze that cools the sweat against his darkening skin. He's never been so tan, or blonde, for that matter. He pushes the dripping sweat from his forehead and scalp.
Feeling eyes on him, he smiles. Zach can't help but glance at Shane as often as he feels him glancing his way. Every time their eyes meet it brings a smile to his face, one he must work hard to shake off to continue work once more. After sharing a knowing look, they turn back toward the field with matching grins.
The tobacco harvest never looked so beautiful. The sun never seemed so pleasant, the humidity so reminiscent. To think, other than the occasional family outing or the reluctant chaperoning of his lively younger brothers, Zach never spent much time in the sun, in the breeze, in the soil.
He looks at his hands blackened by the day's work. He feels strong, physically and otherwise, as though he could tackle any problem that comes his way.
Occasionally, he would think about how temporary it all is, and an unexplainable knot would form somewhere deep in his gut. But he would stubbornly push it down, reasoning to himself that everything had been perfect so far. Why not let it continue this way?
He glances up again and his eyes meet Shane's back. This time, he can't help but feel anxious for the future, both in a good way and bad. If he's being honest with himself, Shane scares him. Or rather, his own feelings for Shane scare him. It's all so new, so unfamiliar...so fragile.
"Not staring into space there, are ya, outa town?"
A familiar face smiles down at him, handkerchief draped across his glistening neck. Zach recalls his first few hours in Shanan and his first day of work with a smile. He was immediately put to work, thrown right in the middle of the everyday life of these folks. It brings a light to his eyes. The man before him was one of the first he met in Shanan. He will never forget him, even when the time comes to leave this place behind.
"Thank you, Mr. Henry."
The man tilts his head in question to the boy's sudden gratitude. Zach dips his head in apology.
"I just wanted to thank you. For your guidance, your patience with me."
Henry brings a hand to Zach's shoulder. "We're lucky to have you, son. Don't go working too hard once you get on back home to your folks."
Zach nods, suddenly tense again as he thinks about the summer's end. He feels Shane's eyes on him once more, but this time can't bring himself to face him.
________________
"I told Granny we'd do the cooking today," smiles Shane.
Sunday has come once more, meaning yet another week has passed them by. They seem to be speeding faster now, these pleasure-filled days, leaving Zach begging for the time to slow down.
"You ever made spaghetti?" Shane's question brings him back to the present.
He can't help but choke a laugh at the simple honesty of the boy's question. Of all the dishes one could choose, he wears such a serious face while talking about pasta?
"Yes," Zach replies, shifting his weight toward Shane's hips. The other boy is completely focused on the task before him, gathering supplies, arranging different sizes of knives and wooden cutting boards.
"The sauce is where the magic happens," he insists without a thought.
Zach thinks back to his days at home. As a child, he was such a picky eater. Spaghetti was one of the few meals he was always willing to enjoy. "A jar of Ragu. That's what we use," he admits with a finger to his chin.
A wooden spoon is suddenly pointing between his eyes, and he blinks in surprise. "A-ha!" calls Shane. "If you've never made your own spaghetti sauce then you've never really made spaghetti." He returns to his preparations once more.
Zach can���t argue that logic; he lets the boy explain further. Mostly though, he just enjoys hearing Shane talk. Even words like 'spaghetti sauce' and 'boiled water' seem romantic while coming from Shane's lips.
Together they pick out tomatoes, zucchini, bell peppers, an onion, and garlic for 'good measure'. When Granny peeks her head in to check on their progress, Shane waves her off with the flick of his hand and a proud smile.
"Sure seems like a lot of vegetables." Zach crinkles his nose as they chop, dice, and peel. But Shane assures him it will be worth it in the end. He demonstrates how to mince the vegetables, using olive oil to prep the pan as he does. Zach reaches toward the pile of ingredients, readying himself.
"Now, you don't want to put something like the garlic in first. Might just burn to a crisp. Throw in something more robust that'll take a while to cook down."
Zach could listen for hours to the boy beside him. He could observe all day as he moves and speaks. And his words seem to lift Zach's mood even more.
Simmer. To keep on a low heat for a long time. Zach feels a simmering longing in his chest; he wants to hold Shane from behind as he stands at the stove.
Opposite of searing. To cook at a high temperature until crispy or browned. His eyes sear into Shane as he works. He wants to kiss him so badly it hurts.
They turn the heat to high and toss in the sliced sausages Shane already had prepared. Zach backs up in shock at the sizzling sound of meat being lightly charred; Shane pulls him toward him once more. "Gives it the best flavor," he says softly while adding a dash of salt to a pot of boiling water.
Once the noodles are cooked, Zach sets the table while Granny helps Maddie wash her hands at the sink.
The meal is delicious, the best spaghetti Zach has ever eaten. Not a word is spoken as the pasta is slurped, scooped, and rolled carefully onto forks. Zach admires how Shane's family members are so different from one another yet so perfectly happy in one others' presence.
"Shane, thank you for cooking. This is mighty good. But one day you'll have to learn more dishes than just spaghetti," Granny scolds.
"Yes, ma'am," he says through troubled lips, holding back a laugh at Zach's shocked expression in response to her accusation. A slurping sound comes from Maddie as she picks up each individual, plain noodle and brings it through her lips.
"And Maddie, love, one day you'll have to at least try Shane's cooking. It's not poison, for goodness' sake."
The girl answers by slurping up another noodle, then mumbling words through full cheeks.
Zach throws an incredulous hand to the air, and Shane can't help but laugh some more. Before long, the two can't hold back the stifled giggles, and even Granny joins in on the fun.