A Christmas Carl by Ryan Field Page A

rode his erection until he made a face
     
and grunted. His legs wiggled, his toes curled back, and his body jerked.
     
After they both climaxed, he rested his head on the sofa and he closed his eyes.
     
While he was still deep inside her body, he drifted into a heavy sleep. She rolled her hips
     
in slow circles and rubbed his muscular chest. Before she climbed down from his lap, she
     
kissed him on the cheek and said, “Merry Christmas, my love. You may or may not
     
remember, but I’ll never forget this night.”
     
Carl crossed back to the other side of the small apartment and said to the Ghost,
     
“I remember her grabbing my penis. It felt good. But I was never sure about whether or
     
not we had sex that night. I certainly didn’t know she had feelings for me. The woman
     
was in love with me, and I never knew. Can we please leave now? I’ve seen enough.”
     
The Ghost lifted the black glove and nodded. Carl closed his eyes and touched it.
     
But when Carl opened his eyes again, he was still in the same apartment. Only now it was
     
daylight. He looked at the Ghost and shouted, “I thought we were leaving. I want to go
     
back home now.”
     
The Ghost moaned and pointed to the sofa.
     
Young Carl was sleeping. He was naked and there was a white cover over the
     
bottom half of his legs. Donna was in the kitchen area making coffee. While she was
     
measuring teaspoons of coffee into the filter of an old chrome coffeepot, there was a soft
     
knock on the front door.
     
Young Carl opened his eyes and sat up. He looked down at his naked body and
     
rubbed his forehead. Then he pulled the covers up to his waist fast and said, “Why am I
     
naked? Are you expecting anyone? My head is killing me.” Donna put down the coffee and smiled. She shrugged her shoulders and said,
     
“You’re naked because you got drunk last night. And I have no idea who that could be.”
     
Her voice was light and cheerful, and she was showered and dressed. She smiled so wide,
     
her gums showed.
     
There was a louder knock and Victor’s deep voice shouted, “Carl, are you there? I
     
have to talk to you, and I don’t have much time. I saw your car outside.”
     
Young Carl’s eyes opened wide. He pointed at Donna and said, “Don’t open the
     
door yet. I want to get dressed. Where are my clothes?”
     
“I folded them this morning,” she said, and pointed to a small chair with chipped
     
white paint.
     
Young Carl scrambled to his feet with the cover wrapped around his waist. His
     
body wobbled and he almost stumbled over the coffee table.
     
While he was putting on his sweatpants, Victor knocked again. “C’mon, Carl. I
     
know you’re upset. But I have to talk to you. It’s important.”
     
Young Carl reached for his sweatshirt and shouted, “I’ll be right there.”
     
Donna lifted the coffee can and placed it up on a shelf. She plugged the coffeepot
     
into the wall and smiled. “You see,” she said. “I knew you guys wouldn’t stay mad at
     
each other for long. You’re like brothers. You did all that worrying for nothing.”
     
Young Carl ignored her. He pulled the sweatshirt over his body and crossed to the
     
door. When he opened it, he stared at Victor for a moment without speaking. Victor was
     
wearing faded jeans and a thick, white cable knit sweater. The long black scarf Carl had
     
given him for Christmas was around his neck. Older Carl watched the two young men stare at each other in the doorway. He
     
remembered how difficult it had been not to lift his arms and wrap them around Victor’s
     
strong shoulders. The only thing he wanted to do was fall into the arms of the man he’d
     
been in love with all his life. He’d had to clench his fists and press his lips together hard
     
to remain in control. He knew he couldn’t let Donna to see him hug Victor in that way.
     
He didn’t want her to suspect they were lovers.
     
He also remembered feeling so