Listening to Dust by Brandon Shire Page B

breast while she swayed back and forth, cooing his sobs until he stuttered to a stop, a small, gutted child in a man-size body. Stephen remembered the feeling too well.  
    “There’s nothing left for you here,” Miss Emily said as she looked over at Stephen. “You should go.”  
    “No,” Robbie said, straightening himself from her grasp. “No, he has a right to be here just as much as any of these folks. Dusty loved him fierce,” he added with a punctuated nod at Stephen. “What’cha all looking at?” Robbie barked at the diner when he saw everyone staring at him.  
    “Robbie,” Miss Emily chided him. “Mind your manners.”  
    Robbie wiped at the tears on his face, subdued by her light disapproval. “Yes, ma’am.”  
    He looked over at Stephen who sat in stunned silence, unable to move, speak, or even breathe.  
    “He loved you fierce, Mr. Stephen, don’t let nobody take that from you. Nobody,” Robbie said.  
    The door to the diner flew open before Stephen could even begin to digest what Robbie had just told him. All he could think about was the letter Stewart had thrown at Dustin’s feet. The letter...  
    “They’re back,” announced the sweaty young man who had flung the diner door open.  
    All eyes immediately returned to Robbie. The jury had only recessed for a little over an hour, which meant they hadn’t bothered with lunch before coming to a decision. A few hands in the diner went up for their checks and then the place broke into pandemonium as people tried to pay their bill and get back to the courthouse.  
    Robbie and Miss Emily looked at one another while Stephen simply stared at the table in front of him, completely oblivious to the announcement.  

Chapter 18
    Brighton Beach  
     
    Stephen and Dustin stood at the end of the pier watching the surf come in as Dustin leaned into the wind and let it rustle through his hair. It was the first time they had been to Brighton and Dustin seemed to be enjoying the area more and more with each passing minute.  
    He turned to Stephen with a smile. “I love the wind,” he said. “All this power and you can’t see it. All you can see are the things it moves.”  
    “Like the dust?” Stephen asked. He had grown to like playing with Dustin’s name, finding the little crevices where it crept into their conversation and exploiting them for a smile, or an insight into how he felt. Dustin rarely missed either, and didn’t always respond with the reaction Stephen was trying to elicit, but it had become a light game between them which they both seemed to enjoy.  
    Dustin looked over at Stephen and grinned. “Yes,” he answered. “You know I’ve only been to the ocean twice in my life. The first time when I was really small, still a baby. Robbie wasn’t even born yet. I don’t remember it. I just found a picture of Drew, me, and my mother out on Tybee Island.”  
    He put his arms down abruptly, seeming somewhat deflated. “Drew was in my mother’s lap and they both had these huge smiles, but I was on the side on the blanket just sitting there in my diaper looking off at something else.”  
    “And the second time?” Stephen asked quickly, seeing the gloom trapped within that memory.  
    Dustin slid a glance over at Stephen and walked to him. “Tybee Island again, alone. I went out there to see the ocean for myself before I left for the military; figured if I was going to cross it, I should step up and see it first.”  
    He turned and looked at the water again while Stephen moved up behind him and pulled him into an embrace.  
    Stephen felt him stiffen and look around before relaxing back into his arms. Despite this being the gay capitol of Britain, and there being dozens of couples around them in the exact same embrace, Dustin was still very conscious of and uncomfortable with his public affection.  
    Stephen stood quietly, relishing the moment. “Are you cold?” he asked when he felt Dustin shiver.  
    “No, just