Notes & Stuff (That Probably Won't Amount to Anything)

The Wind Turbines

[Author's Note: For one of my classes, we're required to write the summary and first scenes of three short stories. We will choose one of the stories to complete by the end of term. This is one of my three opening scenes.]

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"The Wind Turbines" - Scene 1

"What are you, chicken shit?" Patrick McCoy's jeering face had caught up with the boys on the road on the way home from school. "Of course you are," Patrick cackled. "All you homos are."

"I ain't chicken shit," even Connor's ears were scarlet-tipped as he spoke. "And I ain't no homo, neither."

Bee had shrank away as Patrick broke away from the pack of bullies that always accompanied him. "Careful, you're going to break your boyfriend's heart." Patrick's thumb jerked at Bee, who felt a pit grow larger in the depth of his stomach.

"Bee ain't my boyfriend!" snapped Connor hotly. Bee refused to look at Connor – or Patrick – afraid that the truth might be easy to see in his eyes.

To avoid eye contact, Bee had looked around, hoping that somebody might see them, might be able to stop whatever might be about to happen, but they were on the dirt road that cut through the fields of Grover Farm, surrounded by acres of ploughed earth. The only witness was the wind turbines. Bee felt sick. He'd told Connor they should go home by the main road, but Connor had wanted to see the turbines spinning in the late Spring air. Ironically, Connor had always loved the turbines.

"They make you rich," Connor had once said of the turbines. "They're the best way to make money when you're a farmer these days. Loads of tax breaks and they power just about everything, you know. Wind power. Natural power. One of those turbines could power half the state, I'll bet." Bee didn't know much about farming – Bee's daddy was gone and his mother baked pies at the shop in town. But Connor knew all about farming, having helped with the harvest at Grover Farms the summer before. He had taken Bee to see the latest Marvel movie with the money he earned there, and Bee remembered standing in line for the theater box office, Connor's wallet thick full of cash that seemed to reflect green on his chin. Bee had never had so much money in his life. It had been then, watching Connor count out the bills to pay for the tickets with his newly calloused fingers, that Bee had felt the first pain of interest in Connor. His hands had sweat through the entire movie, and, afraid Connor would see his drenched palms, Bee refused any of the popcorn Connor kept offering him. Bee felt too queasy from the feelings stirring to ever dream of eating anyway.

But Patrick had seen the tightening of Bee's lip when Connor had said Bee ain't my boyfriend, and with a snicker of amusement, he said, "Might want to tell Bee that."

Connor looked at Bee, then, and Bee felt a flush fill him up like his skin was being gradually dyed by Kool Aid from the ground up.

"Just leave him alone!" Connor said, turning his back on Bee without acknowledging everything that was plain on his face. "Leave us both alone before I have to kick your ass."

The cronies behind Patrick, looming like a dark guard, hooted at this. "He wants to kick your ass, Pat," wheezed Stan Wilshire, humored near to the point of tears. "Think he could take you?"

Patrick's smile was wide. "You don't have the balls to even try."

"My balls are twice the size of yours!" Connor answered. When Patrick's grin only widened in continued amusement, Connor continued, "I've done tons of brave-ass things you'd never dream of doin'! If either of us is chicken shit, it's you."

"What brave thing have you ever done?" Patrick snickered.

Connor's eyes landed on the wind turbine across the field and he snapped back, "I've climbed and stood on the top of that turbine there."

"You're a lyin' chicken shit is what you are. You didn't climb up no turbine," Patrick sneered.

"I did," Connor answered boldly, "With Mr. Grover and his son, last summer."

"Bullshit. There ain't even a ladder on that thing," Patrick said, and he squinted across the field.

"I did it," Connor said. "Ladder's on the inside."

"Prove it," Patrick challenged.

Bee felt a rush of panic flood him as Connor stepped off the road and into the nearest ploughed row. "Don't Con," he said, grabbing his elbow, "He ain't worth it, okay?"

"You want him to be callin' you my boyfriend all the rest of our lives?" Connor asked, looking resolute, "Callin' us homos and chicken shits?"

"You can't climb that thing without Mr. Grover," Bee answered.

"Sure I can," Connor said, and he tugged away from Bee, who stood, watching and terrified as Connor led the way across the field, Patrick and his gang following after.