Henry Hussett RP

The only reason Dick even knew where Henry lived was because he was a paper boy whose route took him through the park and when Dick rode by on his ruddy red bike with its ramhorn handlebars Henry just so happened to be letting the cat inside for breakfast.

There had been a splash of gravel as Dick back-braked his bike to a sliding stop in front of Henry's trailer, a wicked smirk growing on his sun burnt face. It was just Henry's luck that he'd been caught- not only living in a trailer park- but standing pale and sleep smudged in his boxers and oversized sleep shirt with the band logo "QUEEN" written aptly across his chest.

"Looky here!" Dick had said in his proud drawling voice, "I ought to have figured you were dirt poor, Henry. Only we all heard you came from a private school. Guess you wer'nt smart 'nough, huh?"

Henry could only stand there, his mouth open in surprise.

Dick pulled a paper from his bag, tossed it carelessly on the ground in front of his bike tire, and rolled slowly over it before moving on.

"Later, bag-boy" he called as he peddled away.

Henry was trying to keep a low profile this time around. No one at his new school had any idea why he'd transferred from The Hand of Mary's Catholic School, let alone the fact that he'd been expelled. He wanted to keep it that way. Even more so, he couldn't stand to let rumors of his queerness spread if he could help it. Maybe it was useless to fight it. Maybe everyone could see it like Dick said, but Henry didn't have to let him say it out loud.

So, no, being called trailer trash didn't bother Henry. It was being called 'Faggy Trailer Trash' that did. Especially in gym class. Especially in front of all of Dick's friends. If anyone asked Henry, he'd say he hit Dick out of anger, but really it was fear that made him swing his tennis racket at Dick's giant forehead.

Henry knew he was gay. It wasn't exactly something that troubled him on his own time. He didn't believe in God enough to be concerned about it being a sin and he figured it was mostly nobody else's business. There was even a time in his life when he'd been naive enough to think he could be young and in love, but he'd learned his lesson quick. At least being expelled meant Henry got to start fresh at a new school. He would be fine as long as nobody knew his secret and he figured a racket to the head was a good way shut Dick up.

This was not by any means John's first time in 'In-School Suspension' and it probably wouldn't be his last. He was still just a skinny freshman, but he could check truancy, smoking, cursing, fighting, and being a general distraction off his high school bucket list. Hosea wasn't pleased with him and John wasn't really pleased with himself either. His real parents were long gone, the older brother he had looked up to had split town, and Hosea's wife Bessie had died the summer before. John Marston was angry all the time and he could barely bother showering every day, let alone learning geometry.

The ISS room was a cleared out classroom down the hall from the main office. There were no pithy posters on the walls or shelves with a teacher's nick knacks. Just a desk with a computer for the room monitor and 3 rows of desks for the kids deemed too bad to be in class but not bad enough to be sent home.

It would suit John best if he could sit on his own at a desk without anyone else sitting by, but as usual, his luck was against him. There was a seat open in the front row, but fuck if John was going to sit in between Carrie McQueen who- probably through no fault of her own- happened to smell a lot like cats and some girl he didn't know who was currently snoring and drooling all over her desk.

John looked at the back row and met the cool glare of Ricky Ryan who besides having two first names, was 6 foot 3, was rumored to carry a knife, and currently had his backpack on the desk to his left and his giant feet on the desk to his right. So, John shuffled to the middle row and slouched into a seat next to what looked like a black lump curling over the top of the center desk.

The lump was a ratty oversized hoodie on someone really small- a shrimp- with the hood pulled up over their head and their head face down in the nest of their arms. They might have been asleep except for the nervous bounce of their skinny leg. The movement reverberated up their metal chair and made a soft, repetitive clicking noise. No one seemed to care, but as John stared up at the speckled ceiling tiles the tick, tick, ticking started to make his ears itch. He felt the noise burrow inside his head like a mouse in a wall.

John stuck his leg out and aimed a quick kick at the kid's foot. The lump gave a muffled yelp. Slowly it moved its head in its arms and revealed a pale face with big brown eyes and a little pouty mouth. Light blonde hair stuck out from the hood like unruly down feathers.

"Did you just kick me?" The face said, thick eyebrows pulled down into a furrow.

"You're making too much noise" John grunted.

"I was barely makin' any noise at all"

"Well it was enough to get on my nerves"

"So that means you get to kick me-"

"Boys!" The room monitor interrupted the growing argument, "this isn't social hour. Shut it."

John sat back in his chair with a huff. He looked back at the ceiling and wondered how many dots were on all the tiles combined. The room monitor had gone back to reading his paperback book and every time he finished a page he licked his finger with a pop before turning to the next. It was gross, John thought, and stupid to put your fingers in your mouth to do something he could no doubt do without the spit. John imagined climbing up on the front desk and kicking the book out of his hands.

He sighed slowly brought his eyes down from the ceiling. He chanced a glance at the desk next to him. Those brown eyes were still trained on him in a deadly glare.

John shrugged at him. The boy mouthed something silently. John narrowed his eyes. What? he mouthed back, he couldn't read lips.

The boy mouthed again. Still, John had no idea what he was trying to say. John shrugged harder and shook his head. He didn't understand.

With an annoyed huff, the boy reached down into his backpack and slapped a notebook onto the desk. Quickly, he scribbled something on the page and held it up for John to read.

YOU STINK the notebook said. The boy put the book back on his desk and wrote again.

LIKE SMOKE he added.

John grabbed the notebook out of his hands and slapped it onto his own desk. Then, with frustration, realized he didn't have anything to write with. He stopped bringing a bag to school weeks ago. He never took notes anyways. He motioned for the pen. The boy rolled his eyes and handed it over.

YOU LOOK LIKE A GIRL John wrote then smirked.

The boy snatched the notebook back. Instead of writing, he flopped on top of it laying his head down on his curled arms, this time with his head facing away. Lame thought John, he had only been teasing him.

He looked around the room again. How did anyone stand sitting here under the harsh lights and doing nothing. Maybe if he had his own notebook he could at least doodle, but that was stupid too. He wasn't a kid. He could try to sleep, but he could never get comfortable. His legs were too long and his body too lanky to curl up over the desk in any way that could be considered cozy.

He looked at the boy again. His black hoodie had something on the back that looked like a white triangle with yellow squiggles radiating out of it to form a circle. Though the graphic was discolored and chipped away in places John recognized the Soundgarden album cover. He looked the boy over. His white shoes had duct tape wrapped around toes. His backpack was worn down too with duct tape holding together the handle and at least on of the straps. On the front of the pocket were sharpie drawn symbols; a crooked smiley face with Xs for eyes, a skull, and an alien surrounded by stars.

John stuck his foot out and tapped the kid again. Nothing. The kid pulled his legs further away. Fine, John thought and threw the pen at his head. It him with a thwack.

Slowly the boy turned around. His eyes shown in fiery disbelief. John couldn't help the quiet laugh that bubbled up inside him. He didn't know someone's eyes could get so big.

The boy snatched the pen off the ground and wrote in the notebook before shoving it back John's way.

What is your problem???

John wrote back.

Nothing. Just board. You like Soundgarden?

They passed the notebook back and forth.

Yeah some of their stuff. I like the instruments mostly. Radiohead is better

They're whiny. Alice in Chains beats Radiohead >:) What's your name?

Henry... and YOU'RE whiny. AIC is good but creepy. Henry drew a spindly stick figure with Johns long hair and added an arrow that said YOU

John crossed out YOU and wrote John instead. Then he drew a much smaller stick figure next to himself and trapped them inside a box with jail bars. What are you in for? he wrote.

Hit a kid in the head with a racket. I might actually be fucked. Gym teacher said it could be assault

Henry put Xs over his stick figure's eyes

No way John wrote back Bobby-D threw a chair at a teacher and all he got was suspended. Why'd you hit a kid with a racket? He call you a girl :D

He said something I don't want him saying again! Henry wrote. He underlined the statement then drew Xs over John's stick figure for good measure.

Jeez OK don't hit ME with a racket. Lots of lead singers look kind of girly. Queen dressed up as girls in that one video

Henry looked at John's words then squinted at John trying to see if the other boy was teasing him again. You like Queen? he wrote.

Yeah they're musical genus genuess WHATEVER. They're really good I don't care if they have weird hair or their lead singer was gay or whatever. Music is good so fuck it

Henry smiled. Who else do you like? The Cranberries, Green Day, Hole?

Sure depends on the hole

Henry couldn't help it. He laughed a short loud burst then quickly covered his mouth. John smiled wide and hid his face in his hands. The room monitor looked up from his book with a frown.

"Something funny?" He said. He started to stand when someone pushed open the door to the room.

"Henry?" The assistant principle said only stepping half way through the doorway. "Come on, we've got your mom on the phone. John," she added, "You're dangerously close to being held back a grade. Is that what you want?"

John stared in a different direction, his mouth set in a firm line. Henry stood and gathered his things. He looked down at John in his desk.

"Held back? You stupid or somethin'?" Henry asked. John smiled.

"Yeah. You?"

"Or somethin'" Henry said before shuffling towards the door.

A week later Henry and John had landed themselves both into remedial classes with only the threat of being held back convincing them to pick up some slack. What actually stuck them together was the fact that neither of them had any other friends. John's rotten attitude tended to turn people away and Henry was weary from past betrayals, so the two of them figured they might as well stick together. They liked the same music and neither judged the other for their faults. Both of them understood what it was like to be disappointed by the people who were supposed to care for them.

A year later Abigail Roberts transferred into their grade. Her parents had just divorced, her father was a drunk, and her mother was always working. Abigail found she didn't have the patience to deal with small talk, the way the girls teased each other, how the boys tried to get her attention in the most obnoxious ways. It wasn't long before she was labeled unfriendly and strange. Two things Henry and John had no problem with. If he was being honest, John kinda liked it when Abigail would yell at the other boys... or even at him.

John's dry wit made Abigail laugh and Henry never expected her to act happy when she wasn't. They understood her.

"So you're trying to tell me you tried to stop a robbery and the robber sliced you up with a knife and that's how you got these scars all over your face?" Abigail said. Her eyebrow was pulled up in obvious disbelief but she cupped John's head carefully in her hands and moved it left and right so she could get a better look.

John was trying to keep his face stoic but he was losing to an overwhelming blush that turned even his ears red. Henry snickered.

The three of them were sitting on John's bedroom floor down in the finished basement.

"Actually, it was an trained attack bird sent by the Pet Plus owner 'cause John kept stealin' feeder fish"

"They deserve to live" John added as serious as he could manage.

"Oh! You're both idiots!" she said and gave John a frustrated push away from her. "Just tell me already!"

In reality, John had been scratched by a large dog leaving him with multiple gashes across his face. It had been Henry's fault; he hadn't wanted John to know he lived in a trailer so he took him to an abandoned house instead. He hadn't know about the homeless man living inside it- or his protective dog. Luckily, John hadn't held it against Henry.

As painful as the wounds had been, John had enjoyed the time off from school, walking around with bandages all over his face, and grossing out his classmates with his stitches when he could finally take them off.

It wasn't really a secret, the breaking and entering or the dog attack, but Abigail had transferred after the incident had been long forgotten by everyone else and the boys enjoyed making up obviously fabricated stories to annoy her.

Abigail, for her part, was sure the scars had come from an animal- they looked like claw marks- and was almost certain it had been a dog. That was the most likely scenario, but she liked the game too. Henry came up with good stories and she didn't mind having an excuse to look at John.

She wouldn't admit it- not even to herself. John was annoying and immature. He seemed committed to acting stupid regardless of the consequences even though, Abigail was sure, he was capable of so much more. She didn't know all the details, but Abigail thought it might have to do with the fact that John's older brother had disappeared out of his life. Something about seeing the life of a person you admired fall apart so drastically had to have an effect on a person, but John rarely talked about it. Frustratingly, he avoided any topic that could reveal that he had feelings and that those feelings could be hurt.

Despite it all, Abigail found herself caring for him. She cared for Henry as well, dearly, but not in the bittersweet aching way she felt for John. At first she had thought that maybe John and Henry might have had feelings for each other. She was sure Henry was Gay, though he hadn't told her so yet.

Now she knew better. John was definitely into women... and very possibly into her. But she didn't let herself think about it.

"What are y'all writin' your science reports on?" Henry said, pulling Abigail out of her thoughts. "I'm doin' the Mars Rover. Kinda sad, that thing rollin' around up there all alone". Henry picked at the carpet beneath them.

"I watched the video of it at the library and I swear Mars looks just like Arizona" he said.

"I'm writin' about Dolly" Abigail said.

"Parton?" said both boys at the same time.

"No, half-wits. Dolly the first ever cloned sheep".

"They did not clone a sheep" John said with a snort. "and that rover thing probably is in Arizona. None of that science shit makes sense. That's why I'm writing my report on Koko the talking Gorilla. She was real and there's proof of her unlike your guyses garbage".

"How does a gorilla talk?" Henry moaned exasperated. At the same time Abigail said "Dolly is real. They literally have pictures and videos of her!"

"One," said John, "She uses sign language, which you can clearly see her do in videos and two: a picture of a sheep that looks like another sheep is not proof that it was cloned. Sheep all look the same".

Abigail shook her head feeling halfway between exasperated and amused. At least the boys were planning on doing the project. Anyone who spent time with them would know that they weren't dumb. Henry red all sorts of things in his free time, from classics to modern science magezines, and John held all sorts of practical knowledge. He could fix a car, ride a horse, install a dishwasher, even build furniture from scratch. If someone offered to teach John something, he could learn it. Abigail just couldn't understand why it was so hard for them to apply themselves at school.

It was their senior year. Prom had come and gone. Abigail had taken the initiative and asked John to the dance herself. It had almost crushed her when John initially turned her down; he was worried Henry would feel left out. There was no way he would have a date to prom.

In the prom pictures, Abigail wore a beautiful, velvet gown the color of emeralds with shining rhinestone making constellations across the fabric. On either arm was one of her boys; she had happily invited both boys to take her to prom and for once they had dressed up, both in black tuxes with emerald ties. All three of them were smiling ear to ear.

Then it was time to graduate.

John and Abigail sat at the kitchen table in their dining room, John's arm hung lazily over his wife's shoulder. Henry sat across from them. John had continued to grow after high school. Henry not so much. But his long hair had grown down past his shoulders and he'd long since stopped wearing the baggy boyish clothes he used to hide behind. Now he wore whatever he wanted; mainly things that showed off his thighs and accentuated his waste. Henry had come out to his friends shortly after graduation and promptly decided never to hide again.

Henry's mom had passed away, John and Abigail had had Jack and gotten married, Henry went to college- so much had happened between then and now. Only Arthur had missed it all.

Now he was back almost ten years later. He sat next to Henry at the table and every once in a while he stole glances at the man's long pale legs out of the corner of his eye. Henry'd been wearing a silky slip dress when John had introduced them at the bar. Now he was in black athletic shorts and they were short.

They'd already gone horseback riding and camping as a group and each outing had only heightened Arthur's attraction to Henry who was silly, and kind, and surprisingly afraid of horses. The two of them had plans to go to a drive in movie this weekend and Arthur hoped he'd have the courage to try for a kiss. He was sure Henry was just as attracted to him, though he couldn't figure why.

John cleared his throat across the table to bring Arthur back to conversation at hand. It seemed to annoy him when Arthur and Henry flirted or looked at each other for too long. John should have never introduced him to someone so magnetic if he hadn't wanted Arthur to become enamored with his best friend, though John hadn't even known that Arthur was interested in men before now. There was a lot of things the two brothers didn't know about each other. It was Arthur's fault for staying away so long. For running away in the first place.

"The two of you looked so cute in your dress shirts and ties" Abigail said to John and Henry, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"You sound surprised", Henry said as if to say 'I look cute no matter what I wear'. Arthur figured that was true. He'd missed John's graduation... and wedding... and Jack's birth. Part of him was a little envious that Henry had seemingly filled the hole he left behind as John's brother and Jack's uncle, but he had no right to be upset about it. He hadn't been there. Arthur supposed he should be grateful that John had found people who loved him.

Arthur loved John too, he'd just been too afraid to come home and show everyone how broken he'd become. When Arthur lost Eliza and their unborn child he'd lost his sense of self along with them. He blamed himself and punished himself and it took a long time for him to find his way back. He hadn't been completely disconnected, though. He'd kept in touch with Hosea through letters and later text messages and he'd received regular updates on John and Tilly and how their lives were going. He knew when Tilly won her first grade reading contest and when John learned how to drive the old Chevy truck. Hosea had sent him their school pictures each year and Arthur had kept them. He'd kept every photo he'd received. John, Tilly, and Hosea at the river bank; Till at her first horse riding lesson; John's wedding; pictures of Jack. He even had a picture of John in the very shirt and tie Abigail was talking about: John smiling from ear to ear with Abby on his left and...

"Hold on", Arthur said with a start. He sat up in his chair then stood entirely. "There's somethin' I need to see about".

Arthur left the three of them shocked at the table. When he returned it was with an old shoe box that looked like it had seen better days. He placed carefully on the table with reverence.

"What the hell is that?" John asked impetuously.

"Never seen a shoe box before, John?" Henry teased.

"It's my box" Arthur said as if that explained it all.

"Right..." Said Abigail, "you mean like a keep-sake box?"

John snorted, "what're you keepin' in there? Rocks?" He said as Arthur pushed the box closer to the center of the table.

"Just stuff... Things that I got from here and there," said Arthur. His face was turning pink from the attention. He had a sheepishness in his eyes that was at odds with his broad shoulders and work worn hands. In matters of the heart, Arthur was still a boy coming unstuck from the glue trap twenty odd years of hard life in the making.

His calloused fingers gingerly took the lid of the box and set it aside. Then he lifted his treasures out for everyone to see. Henry smiled to see that there were a few rocks in there; one especially smooth and thin, another one cut into a jagged arrow head. He had an old fashioned ink pen, a shiny black tabaco pipe, a silver pocket watch, but the majority of the boxes contents were pictures. Some were printed out on glossy picture paper, others were regular ink jet on white paper crinkled around the edges.

"I was always movin' around and I never could fit a nice box in my duffle..." Arthur said in defense of the ragged shoebox. He fanned out pictures on the table with a soft smile on his face. "Hosea always sent me photos of the important stuff. I got all'a Jack's birthdays... even when he was just born". Arthur's blush deepened as he shuffled out a picture of Abigail

He had pictures of two-year-old Jack riding a tricycle, baby Jack on his father's shoulders. He had pictures of John and Abigail cutting their wedding cake.

"I kept 'em all..." Arthur said quietly. Abigail wiped at the corner of her eye and tried to disguise it as a stretch.

John leaned back in his chair, his face serious with thought. He hadn't forgiven Arthur yet for leaving Tilly, Hosea, and him, but he couldn't find it in him to be mad at Arthur either. John couldn't imagine what he'd do if he lost Abigail and Jack. He'd probably struggle to stay alive let alone in town.

He looked up at his brother and decided to just be happy Arthur was home, even if that did mean the giant man was sleeping on his couch.

"We should get you one of those nice wooden boxes they put knick knacks in" John said, "that is, if you're plannin' on sticking around".

Arthur looked anywhere but at his brother. "I told you I am", he said. He wondered how long it would take before John trusted him again.

Henry looked between the brothers. "Right!", he said, clapping his hands together. "Its settled. First Arthur needs a fancy box then he can work on findin' an apartment".

"And your own couch to sleep on", added Abigail.

"Or, you know, a real bed", said Henry. He looked coyly up at Arthur who was still standing.

Arthur felt his ears burn.

"Yeah- uh- that-" Arthur stammered and then chuckled lightly. He was glad Henry seemed as interested in him as Arthur was him, but he wasn't used to being flirted with so openly. Especially not in front of his little brother. As if out of nervousness Arthur started to shuffle through the photographs on the table. He stopped when the corner of one picture caught his eye. It was the picture he'd been looking for in the first place. He smiled and pulled the glossy picture from the pile.

"This", he said, "is what I wanted to show you. I didn't even realize what I had until ya'll started talkin' about your graduation".

He placed the picture down on the table for everyone to see. It was a picture of John, tall but still scrawny in his cap and gown. He was pouting with his arms crossed in mock disdain for the celebration of the two people beside him. On John's left was a young, chubby faced Abigail, her graduation gown open to show a strappy silver dress that matched her shiny hoop earrings. She was smiling from ear to ear and her hand was stuck up behind John's head giving him bunny ears. With her other hand she held on to his arm. Arthur wondered if they had been together yet.

"Oh Lord. Of course you have this picture", Henry said. He sat up in his chair to get a closer look. Arthur couldn't help smiling wider.

Taking up the picture on John's other side was a short figure whose graduation gown, although zippered shut, was slipping off his slender shoulder. His feathery blonde hair was shaggy around his feminine face and his cap seemed to be making an escape attempt to the side of his head.

Arthur had had this picture for years and had never known who the third person was. Listening to the three of them reminisce had made him realize he'd had a picture of Henry long before he'd ever met him.

The Henry in the picture was smiling wide enough to show his teeth and Arthur could just make out the tell tale beauty mark just below his eye. He had been cute. He was still cute.

"Had a picture of Henry all along", Arthur said. He rubbed at his chin feeling a bit silly about making a whole production for such a small thing.

Henry looked at the trio in the picture and then up at his two best friends. They'd all grown so much. John had become more responsible. He was hard working and loving, no longer as angry or reckless as he had been as a teen. He was a father now and Henry was proud of the progress he had made.

Abby had grown up too. She still worked just as hard as she had in school, but now she loved herself more. She was confident and relaxed. She would raise Jack to be a good man.

Henry had changed in more ways than he could count. He wondered if his childhood self would even recognize him now.

And now there was a fourth; the kind and honest Arthur, who seemed both confident and bashful depending on the situation, who looked at the three of them with longing in his eyes and a sad smile on his face. He was a good man. Henry could already tell that the way he felt about him was different from any of the men he'd met before.

"We should take a picture now. All four of us", Henry said pulling his phone from his bag.

"Right now?" Arthur asked and Henry swore he saw a spark of excitement in the man's eyes.