I love the smell of incest 😍😍

It was a few weeks into summer vacation when Stan brought a portable radio out to the boat. He said it would help speed things up as they worked.

Ford disagreed. He hated the incessant noise from the staticy whining thing. He'd be better off disassembling it for parts, but it was Ma’s radio, and she needed it for her soaps. 

Stan had turned the station to check out the latest on the Mets game and Ford could see he was mentally tallying up the outcome as he pulled out rusty nails with the back of his hammer.

Ford leaned over, making sure he didn't get splinters like last time. “It doesn't look like they're going to pull through. Hope you haven't put too much money on the line.”

“Still got a few innings.” Stan said breezily. “You know what they say, ‘it ain't over ‘til it's over.’”

He pulled the nails out of the hammer and threw them overboard into the sand.

“You ought to be careful, Stan, anyone steps on those and it's a one way trip to the hospital.” Ford joked. 

“Oh?” Stan asked in amusement. “Then you better not go barefoot.”

Ford fanned himself, trying to stay cool in the unrelenting sun. He covered his eyes with the palm of his hand, looking out at the shore. “Do you think anyone on some distant shore, is looking in our direction and wondering if someone is looking back at them?”

Stan looked over his shoulder to see the shore Ford was looking at. 

“Huh. From that direction, I guess you're looking at Nova Scotia, so maybe?”

“I was just being rhetorical.” Ford muttered.

Stan shrugged. He stood up, stretching his arms. He bent down and changed the station to WSJO 104.9 

“Giving up?” Ford chuckled, folding his arms.

“Eh, maybe sports betting isn't my forte. Better off putting my money in safer ventures, like crab fighting.” Stan replied. He turned up the volume as the disc jockey promised a weekend of tunes.

Stan joined Ford, leaning on the railing of the deck as they watched the sea from their dry dock. 

“So what do we think? More sanding? Get some more lumber and try to patch up the hull?” Stan asked, wrapping his arm around Ford’s shoulder. Ford felt startled at the sudden sensation of Stan’s large hand against his shoulder, and the affectionate squeeze. Ford rested his head against Stan as he surveyed their progress.

“I think we need more cashflow before thinking about the hull after our last test.” Ford noted. 

They'd gotten about a few feet from the coast when the boat started sinking. They had to jump out and push it back to shore, and start over from scratch. Their clothes were drenched, and their mother screamed at them for getting her carpet wet. They had to strip in the living room and wait for their clothes to dry on the window sill, and watched tv in their underwear like they were kids.

Stan sighed. “Tell me about it. I think with what I get from my job, the winnings from my last two matches, and your tutoring money…we’ve got about one to two hundred dollars.”

Ford gave a low whistle. “Not too shabby, but at this point it still might not be enough. Do you think we can really get her seaworthy in a year?”

Stan looked at Ford in disbelief. “You're not thinking of giving up on her now, are you? After everything?”

Ford winced. “No! That's not what I…” He looked at Stan. “I guess with my Science Fair winnings, we’d be able to get her up and running. If I win it, that is.”

Stan squeezed Ford tighter. “Oh that? You're sure to win it, Sixer!”

Ford wasn't as sure, but he was happy Stan believed in him. 

“Hey, if we can get this old girl out to sea, then winning a science fair against a bunch of nerds is nothing.” Stan said. “The Stan O’War isn't giving up, why should you when you haven't even started?”

“It's the State level, Stan, not our small town school. They've got kids from Princeton and the other townships competing. Maybe a perpetual motion machine will seem juvenile, or unrealistic, or…”

“Coming up next, back to back hits from The Beatles!” The tinny voice of the disc jockey shouted from the tiny speakers.

“Whatever you put your mind to, you're gonna run circles around them. I know it, you know it too.” Stan replied, gazing earnestly at Ford.

Ford nervously laughed, looking away. “If you say so.”

“I says so.” Stan winked. 

That got a genuine laugh out of him. 

She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah…

The jangly guitar picked up as they heard the unison shouts from the band.

“Dance with me.” Stan declared, grabbing Ford’s hand.

“Now?”

“I don't think there's a better time.”

He led Ford to the deck, still covered in a light snowfall of sanded wood as they twisted to the music. Stan did the watusi, while Ford laughed at his dancing skills, half heartedly joining in.

She says she loves you

And you know that can't be bad

“Watch me do the Mashed Potato!” Stan shouted.

“Impressive, you should bust these out for prom.” Ford noted.

“The trick is all in the toes.” Stan winked as he moved he pointed his foot, then rolled it on the ground in a graceful motion. He was light on his feet for someone with a heavy build. 

Somehow, watching him dance made Ford feel all warm and sweaty. Could be the summer heat. 

She said you hurt her so

She almost lost her mind

“Do you know any other dance moves?” Ford asked.

“Maybe the Pony?” Stan mused. “D’you know that one? I'll teach you.”

Ford half paid attention as he studied Stan’s muscular arms that tapered to his delicate wrists, and his hands, covered in calluses and ruddy at the palms. 

“You got it?” Stan asked, looking at Ford.

Ford blinked. “Uh, maybe I'll watch you, then follow along.”

Stan looked at him a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. I'm getting kinda tired dancing so let's wrap up.”

“But the song’s not over.” Ford pleaded. 

Stan rolled his eyes. “When did you become such a jitterbug? Anyway I wanna listen to the last bit.”

With a love like that

You know you should be glad!

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

The energy shifted as the next song played, moving into a slower track.

“Wanna head back? Ma might still be baking our cake. If we’re early she lets us lick the batter spoon.”

“I think we’re too old for that, plus it's a great way to get Salmonella.” Ford pointed out. Stan wiped his brow and lifted his shirt up, revealing his stomach as he fanned himself with the fabric. Ford’s mouth was open, speechless. Stan noticed, and lifted his shirt down, blushing.

“You're right, maybe I gotta watch my figure. Coach says I need to get on a cut.” He said, looking down at his rounded stomach.

“I didn't mean it like that, you look great, Stanley.” Ford said emphatically. He wondered if that was too much, too weird. Stan didn't seem to notice as a smile crossed his face.

“Thanks, Sixer.”

Stan grabbed the radio, carrying it his hand as it continued to play the next song.

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you

Tomorrow I'll miss you

Ford felt the sand get in his eyes as he started to blink. He wiped them with the back of his hand and cleaned his glasses. As he put them back on, he saw Stan’s outstretched hand, helping him down from the boat. He grabbed onto it, stepping into the soft sand. 

Stan led the way as they walked together hand in hand back home. Ford wondered if he forgot, but he hoped he’d keep forgetting and hold him until they reached the threshold to the pawn shop.

All my loving

I will send to you

All my loving, darling I'll be true

As the last rays of the sun stretched behind them, they framed Stan's face and the curls of his brown hair into the ring of a halo.

Ford squeezed stan's hand. Every part of him wanted to lean in and kiss him. Right now, on the boardwalk at sunset, on their birthday.

And hope that my dreams will come true…

“Turn that racket off!” Their father shouted, sticking his head out the door. 

Ford hastily let go as Stan reached for the radio, turning the dial in one rapid click as the silence was drowned out by the gulls.

“Guess we’ll finish that dance party later, huh?” Stan asked, turning to face him.

“Indubitably. As long as you remember to bring the radio.”

“Got it.” Stan nodded. “Race you to the kitchen, first one gets the cake batter spoon!”

Stan won, but Ford convinced himself he let Stan have the head start.