James and Margaret Dawson came home to Los Robles Valley in the early dusk. They had to walk over the pass from Forest Hills, through the woods; they couldn\u2019t use the road, because men from the Army Corps of Engineers were guarding it. In the morning, the new dam would go into operation, and Los Robles Valley would become Los Robles Reservoir.<\/p>\r\n\r\n
James and Margaret didn\u2019t speak as they walked. James glanced over at Margaret every now and then. She always had her eyes on the ground, picking out her steps, avoiding the twigs and stones. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a severe bun that made her look forty instead of twenty-four. Her clothes. . . . She never complained, but James knew she wished they could afford something nice once in a while. Maybe they could use some of the government money from the house, from the relocation, for a new dress. Hard times. If he\u2019d been laid off from the lumber yard sooner, he might\u2019ve gotten a PWA job, working on the dam. . . .<\/p>\r\n\r\n
At last they came to the little house at the end of Aldercroft Lane. It looked bare, barren. The flowers in the front yard had been trampled; the shutters on the front window were broken. The front door stood ajar.<\/p>\r\n\r\n
They hadn\u2019t bothered to take all of their things with them when the Corps had forced them to sell the house and land. They\u2019d figured on making a fresh start in Los Perros.<\/p>\r\n\r\n
But Margaret had insisted that they come back. \u201cJust for tonight,\u201d she\u2019d said. \u201cOne last night.\u201d Her chin had been high, her face impassive. The same stony mask she\u2019d worn ever since. . . .<\/p>\r\n\r\n
James held the door for her, even though it was already open. Useless,<\/i> he thought. What am I doing here? What are we<\/em> doing here?<\/i><\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret looked around in the gloom of the front hall. James unclipped a flashlight from his belt, flicked it on, handed it to her. He took off his hat, moved to hang it from the hat rack, remembered they\u2019d sold the hat rack with the rest of the furniture. He hung the hat from a doorknob. He lowered his heavy rucksack\u2014bedrolls, a little food\u2014to the floor, leaned it against the wall.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret stood uncertainly, shone the light across a wall covered in now-grimy floral wallpaper. She took a step toward the living room, then stopped, turned around, and walked into the kitchen.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James imagined the floodwaters rising, coming in through the front door, covering the wooden floor here in the front hall, muddying the wallpaper. He imagined the water filling the house, filling the valley, suffocating.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret gave a little shriek. James darted through the doorway into the kitchen and stopped dead behind her.<\/p>\r\n\r\n A tall narrow man stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. A dirty tramp, tattered, filthy; he squinted and averted his eyes as the light hit him squarely in the face. He had several days' growth of beard. His clothes were old and torn; his hat was battered and, like the rest of him, caked with dirt.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James started forward. By God, nobody was going to come into his house, walk around like he owned the place. \u201cWhat the\u2014\u201d He glanced at Margaret. \u201cWhat do you think you\u2019re doing here?\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n The man had put a grimy hand up, blocking the light from his eyes. \u201cSorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI thought this place was\u2014 I\u2019ll leave. Sorry.\u201d His voice was quiet but clear.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James said, \u201cGet out.\u201d His fists were balled at his sides. Say something, say anything, and I\u2019ll hit you, I swear to\u2014<\/i><\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cWait,\u201d said Margaret. She shifted her flashlight a little so it wasn\u2019t directly in the hobo\u2019s face. \u201cDon\u2019t you know they\u2019re going to flood the whole valley in the morning?\u201d she said. \u201cIt isn\u2019t safe here.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n The man looked at them, a flash of curiosity brightening his eyes, but then looked away. \u201cI know,\u201d he said. \u201cJust hoping there was some food left behind, maybe something soft to sleep on tonight before I move on. But\u2014 Sorry to intrude.\u201d He started past them. Margaret stepped aside to let him pass; James stood his ground. The man turned sideways to pass James and go through the doorway.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cWait,\u201d said Margaret again. James glared at her. The other man stopped, still looking at the floor. Pausing for a moment before moving his heavy load on out of there.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d Margaret asked.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cCody,\u201d said the man. \u201cRichard Cody.\u201d He glanced up, sidelong, past James at Margaret, then down again. \u201cThey call me Professor,\u201d he offered. \u201cDown at the jungle by the train yard.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cLook, just\u2014\u201d James began, but Margaret cut him off.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cCody,\u201d she said. \u201cMr. Cody, the pump in the back should still work. If you go clean yourself up, I\u2019ll see if I can make the\u2014the guest room a little more comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n When Cody was gone, James said, \u201cHe\u2019s a bindlestiff, Margaret. Like as not slit our throats as we sleep.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cHe\u2019s a man in trouble, James Dawson.\u201d She glared at him. He looked away, tight-lipped. She said, \u201cGo make yourself useful\u2014go out to the shed and see if you can find any of those jars of preserves. I think I might have left some behind.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n James returned with a jar of preserved peaches he\u2019d found under some timber in the shed.<\/p>\r\n\r\n With his face and hair washed, in a worn old nightshirt of James\u2019s that Margaret had found in the bottom of the closet, the hobo looked almost presentable. He\u2019d somehow managed to shave. He had a nice firm jaw, and keen blue eyes.<\/p>\r\n\r\n He gobbled peaches from the jar with his fingers, and some of the beef jerky James had brought along for breakfast. The man kept a wary eye on James and Margaret as he ate.<\/p>\r\n\r\n None of them said much. When the man was done, Margaret showed him to the guest room.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James and Margaret bedded down on the floor in their old bedroom. James reached for Margaret, but she turned her back to him. Again. He lay restlessly for a while, but the day had worn him out, and eventually he slept.<\/p>\r\n\r\n He woke to the sound of sobbing.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret wasn\u2019t lying next to him. He stood, still sleep-fuddled, and drew on his trousers. He buttoned the suspenders as he walked unsteadily down the hall in the darkness.<\/p>\r\n\r\n The sound was coming from the living room; he paused just outside the living room doorway. Moonlight splashed in through the big front window. Margaret was there; it was Margaret who was crying. Margaret who hadn\u2019t shed a tear for six months, Margaret who\u2014<\/p>\r\n\r\n There was someone else in the room.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Two figures, sitting on the floor, backs to the wall, in the moonlight: Margaret was clutching the tramp, and he had his arms around her.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James took one step through the doorway, raising a fist, preparing a bellow that would shake the roof, would make the hobo take to his heels. He\u2019d had about enough\u2014<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret was still wailing, in great gasping sobs.<\/p>\r\n\r\n And the hobo was . . . comforting her? He was holding her, encircled in his arms, and he was saying soothing nonsense, There, there,<\/i> and he had no right, no right at all\u2014<\/p>\r\n\r\n But the tears, the grief, were flooding out of Margaret, finally released. That stone face had collapsed. James hadn\u2019t been able to reach her, hadn\u2019t been able to help; he\u2019d stood by, helpless, useless, watching her, waiting, praying that one day she would come through that valley. . .<\/p>\r\n\r\n But not like this. Not with another man. James stepped further into the room. \u201cYou\u2014\u201d he tried, but he didn\u2019t know how to go on. \u201cWhat are\u2014\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n The man looked up. His eyes widened in guilty fear; he pulled half away from Margaret, but couldn\u2019t extricate his arms from around her. Margaret looked up, bewildered, and saw James.<\/p>\r\n\r\n The anguish on her face was more than he could bear. He moved toward her, reflexively, forgetting everything else. She put her arms out to him, and he sank to his knees and enfolded her in his own arms. And she continued to cry, onto his shoulder now.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James felt a slight motion, and looked up, and realized that the hobo\u2014Cody\u2014was still caught, his arms pinned around Margaret by the wall and by James\u2019s arms. James began to shift, to give Cody room to pull away and clear out, but Margaret, still crying, moved one of her arms, drew Cody in closer. Cody gave James an embarrassed half-shrug.<\/p>\r\n\r\n They sat there, awkwardly, the three of them, as Margaret cried herself out.<\/p>\r\n\r\n And then, as the sobs died away into hiccups, Margaret looked up at both of them, and half-smiled through the tears. And then she kissed James.<\/p>\r\n\r\n It was so sudden, after all these months, that James didn\u2019t respond at first. When after a moment he did respond, it was as though his whole body was waking up from a sleep.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret sank down to lie on the old rug. She pulled James down next to her, kissing him, stroking his head. \u201cJames,\u201d she said. \u201cJames, I need you.\u201d The urgency in her voice brought him fully erect. He pulled her to him\u2014and stopped. The other man was still there.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Cody was pulling away, standing up. \u201cI\u2019ll\u2014 ah\u2014 I\u2019ll just leave you to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n But Margaret said, once again, \u201cWait.\u201d And sat up, and looked back and forth, from Cody to James and back again.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Both men froze in place. Guarded. Wary. Uncertain.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret held a hand up to Cody. \u201cPlease,\u201d she said. \u201cYou too. Let\u2019s\u2014be alive. Together. This one night, before the morning.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n James\u2019s eyes narrowed. He drew in a breath\u2014but Margaret put her finger to his lips. Her eyes caught his, pleading. \u201cFor me?\u201d she said. \u201cFor\u2014I need this. To\u2014to prove I\u2019m alive.\u201d James lay there, looking up at her, and past her at the other man. \u201cPlease?\u201d she said, and he thought his heart would break.<\/p>\r\n\r\n A long moment passed.<\/p>\r\n\r\n At last, James half-nodded. If this was the price of getting Margaret back. . . \u201cOnce,\u201d he said. \u201cTonight only.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n She nodded. \u201cTonight only,\u201d she said.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Cody, beyond her, chuckled softly. \u201cFor a limited run,\u201d he said wryly, and somehow that was funny, and they all laughed, and then before anyone could say anything more Margaret was standing and unbuttoning her nightgown, there in the white moonlight, and her dark hair was loose, cascading over her shoulders. It took James\u2019s breath away.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret shrugged out of the shoulders and sleeves, and the nightgown slithered down her pale body.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Her breasts were still fuller than they\u2019d once been, and there were wrinkles on her belly. But in the moonlight James could see echoes of the girl he\u2019d courted, at the county fair that summer, back before the Crash, before everything had turned sour.<\/p>\r\n\r\n He was filled with a fierce need to take her, right there, heedless of the stranger in the room. He stood, reached for her. She danced back a step, a half-smile playing around her lips. It had been so long since he\u2019d seen her smile. . . He lunged forward, grabbed her. He managed somehow to lay her down on the floor, as she laughingly protested. He knelt beside her, fumbling with his suspender buttons, trying to get his trousers down.<\/p>\r\n\r\n And then Cody was beside them, kneeling on the floor. \u201cYou\u2019re lovely, ma\u2019am, if you don\u2019t mind my saying so,\u201d he said. His voice was still quiet, but teasing now, challenging, questioning.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret pulled the man down to her, kissed him. Jealousy flared in James. He managed to get his trousers down around his ankles, and lay down and pushed Cody away from her. He leaned in and kissed her himself. A long kiss, to make her forget the other man. What could she want from him? And after a moment, Margaret began to kiss back more urgently, and to make little noises in the back of her throat. He felt a moment of satisfaction, then confusion as the noises grew louder\u2014she couldn\u2019t possibly be enjoying a few kisses quite that much\u2014<\/p>\r\n\r\n He shifted, looked up. Cody was down between Margaret\u2019s legs, and his head was bobbing up and down at her groin. . .<\/p>\r\n\r\n James broke away from the kiss. \u201cThat\u2019s disgusting,\u201d he said. Cody paused, looked up at him, raised an eyebrow. But before Cody could say anything, Margaret grabbed his head with one hand and shoved it down there again.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cThat\u2019s. . . ,\u201d said James, but he knew when he was beaten. He shook his head. If this was what she really wanted. . .<\/p>\r\n\r\n He guessed it was time for him to go. He would leave Margaret here, with\u2014<\/p>\r\n\r\n She grabbed him and pulled him in for another kiss. A deep, passionate one. She moaned around it.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James remembered other times when she\u2019d moaned, nights in the bedroom when their passion had made her scream with pleasure. The thought aroused him again.<\/p>\r\n\r\n He shifted an arm and began to stroke her breast. He\u2019d learned she liked that. She responded, moving to press against his hand. Her moans into his mouth grew louder, her breathing faster.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James risked breaking the kiss long enough to glance down her body. The other man\u2019s head was still moving there. James lay perfectly still for a long moment, hand frozen on Margaret\u2019s breast, and then slowly moved his head. He paused again with his mouth an inch from the dark bud that tipped her breast, then reached with his tongue to touch it.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret gasped and arched her back. James licked again, more firmly this time, and then, gathering his courage, took her nipple into his mouth.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret screamed, head back, body convulsed. For a moment James thought he had somehow hurt her terribly, but then her hand was behind his head, clutching him to her breast. He sucked and licked at it, struggling to breathe through his nose, and then she went limp.<\/p>\r\n\r\n All was still for a moment. Then James pulled away from the awkward position Margaret had pulled him into, sat up a little. Cody\u2019s head came up. He was grinning, and his mouth and chin were wet as if from eating ripe fruit. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and said to James, \u201cYou oughtta try it sometime.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n James looked down at Margaret. Her eyes were closed; her mouth held an expression of perfect bliss. Two of her fingers rested gently against the other nipple, the one James hadn\u2019t touched.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James swallowed. His trousers were still tangled around his ankles; he pulled them the rest of the way off. He was erect, insistent. He shivered.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Cody, standing, stripped off his nightshirt. Without clothing, he was thin and pale. Probably never worked a day in his life,<\/i> James thought. James touched his own arm\u2014the hard muscles from wrangling lumber all day for ten years\u2014and smiled a little to himself.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret opened her eyes. \u201cMore?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cI\u2014\u201d James\u2019s mouth was suddenly dry. He swallowed. \u201cI want you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\r\n\r\n She understood. She drew him down to her, pulled him close.<\/p>\r\n\r\n He tried to lie on top of her, but she turned on her side, away from him. What\u2014<\/i><\/p>\r\n\r\n She reached back, pulled him close up against her back. And then lifted her upper leg, and reached with one hand to guide him in from behind, to guide him home. She was slick and wet, and James tried not to think about Cody\u2019s mouth down there, his tongue licking. She was tighter than usual from this angle. It felt strange not to be facing her, not to be lying atop her as he thrust into her. He reached around in front of her and caressed her breast; his other arm had somehow ended up trapped under her neck, immobile. Inside her, he moved slowly at first, trying to take things slow, to savor the moment, but he was going to have to speed up any second now, as she began to push back against him\u2014<\/p>\r\n\r\n And then Cody was there. Lying on his side too, facing Margaret and James. He kissed Margaret, and then shifted down to nuzzle her breasts. She gasped again, and began to moan. Her back pressed harder against James as she took him even deeper inside. James lost control, slamming hard into her, and was only vaguely aware that Cody had moved again and was lying full-length against her front, thrusting against her as if he too were entering her, only he was holding himself with one hand. They all rocked together, back and forth, faster and faster, as Margaret\u2019s keening wail went up and up and up, and with one final thrust James felt himself spurting deep inside her, his body hit by one jolt after another, and she was still screaming and bucking, and then James\u2019s hand on Margaret\u2019s breast was spattered by something sticky, and Cody grunted once and lay still.<\/p>\r\n\r\n And Margaret\u2019s breathing slowed into ragged gasps, and James realized sleepily that she was crying again. Not the body-shaking sobs of before, just quiet weeping. And both men had their arms around her, and James wasn\u2019t sure which of them said \u201cIt\u2019s okay, it\u2019s all right\u201d and which said \u201cIt\u2019ll be all right, don\u2019t you cry.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n And slowly her tears tapered off, and her breathing slowed, and then she was asleep.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James raised his head slightly, a little befuddled, uncertain. Cody looked him in the eyes from a couple of feet away. Cody quirked the corner of his mouth, a little sadly, and then leaned in to kiss Margaret gently on the forehead, and then he pulled away and sat up.<\/p>\r\n\r\n He looked at James again, and said, in that quiet voice, \u201cMargaret told me about your loss. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n James blinked back unmanly tears and bit his lip. \u201cThey moved the graves,\u201d he said. \u201cThe PWA men. All the graves, they moved them to higher ground. All but one.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n Cody was silent for a moment, then said, \u201cI think I\u2019d best be going now. I\u2014\u201d He stopped, and stood up. The moonlight was still bright on his skin.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James almost said, \u201cStay.\u201d But caught himself.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cTonight only,\u201d Cody said. \u201cI\u2019ll find somewhere else to sleep. I\u2014 Thank you. And thank her, in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cThank you,\u201d James said, unsure even as he said it why he was saying it.<\/p>\r\n\r\n \u201cTake good care of her,\u201d Cody said. He seemed about to say something more, but thought better of it. He picked up the nightshirt he\u2019d been wearing, and disappeared through the doorway into the hall.<\/p>\r\n\r\n James thought about going after him. About thanking him, or hitting him, or something\u2014he wasn\u2019t sure what he wanted to do. But before he could figure it out, he was asleep, still embracing his wife.<\/p>\r\n\r\n The birds outside woke them in the pre-dawn gray. Margaret stretched and yawned, and smiled. James\u2019s heart thudded hard for a moment\u2014her smile had always been one of his favorite things. Neither of them said much as they dressed and ate a little beef jerky.<\/p>\r\n\r\n When they were ready, hand in hand, they went out into the back yard, and over to the oak tree.<\/p>\r\n\r\n Underneath it, propped up in the dirt, was a piece of cardboard. A pencil scrawl read:<\/p>\r\n\r\n James Dawson, Jr.<\/p>\r\n\r\n 1935<\/p>\r\n\r\n Margaret squeezed James\u2019s hand tighter, and he moved to stand behind her, to put his arms around her. They both cried a little then.<\/p>\r\n\r\n And then the sun came up. The dam would be going into operation soon, flooding the valley, covering up old hurts, washing away the past, making everything clean and new again. It was time to go.<\/p>\r\n\r\n This story was written in 2001, and first published in Wet: More Aqua Erotica<\/a><\/cite>, ed. Mary Anne Mohanraj (Three Rivers Press, 2002). It was reprinted online in Fishnet<\/a><\/cite> in 2005.<\/p>\r\n\r\n The PWA, or Public Works Administration<\/a>, built a lot of dams in the 1930s. (It\u2019s not to be confused with the better-known WPA, the Works Progress Administration<\/a>, which funded various arts projects as well as construction projects.) They occasionally flooded a valley to create a reservoir, and sometimes those valleys had towns in them; the fictional setting of this story is loosely modeled on the town of Alma, California, which is now the Lexington Reservoir, near Los Gatos. I have no evidence that they ever flooded a town without bulldozing it first, but I figure if the Coen Brothers can say it happened, I can too.<\/p>\r\n\r\n After the story was published, a friend pointed out to me that people who wear suspenders generally pull the straps on and off over the shoulders, rather than buttoning and unbuttoning them. Oops. I suppose I could\u2019ve fixed that in the above text, but I\u2019m leaving it alone for now.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"parent":5427,"menu_order":10,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-5466","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5466","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5466"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5466\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20723,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5466\/revisions\/20723"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5427"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/jed\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5466"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}Notes<\/h2>\r\n\r\n