on?"
"Caliban's. That way if I decide to get married, he'll have his house already built for 'im. He can't do much carpentry work."
"You thinking of getting married, Caleb?"
"Not yet, but I probably will someday. Caliban, 13too."
"I ain't gonna marry," Caliban said. "My leg gets a little worse every year, and I don't wanna be no burden to some woman."
"I think you'd make any woman a wonderful
husband," Darcie said.
"A wonderful husband who can't support her and who she'd hafta take care of. No, I ain't getting married.
Made up my mind about that long ago."
* * * *
"I don't think Caleb'll ever get married," Calvin told Darcie later. "He has too much fun being single."
"But Caliban… I mean, don't a man need to have sex?"
"He don't need to get married to have it. Look at Caleb. Or Calhoun, for that matter. He had to get married because he was having it. Besides, I ain't all that sure Caliban can give a woman what she needs."
" I am. I seen when he was only thirteen, when he had the accident. Yours ain't no bigger."
"It's big enough."
"I ain't complaining. I'm just saying what Caliban's got is as good as any man's. You think it shriveled up since 13then? I bet it's grown."
"It ain't, if you're that curious to know, but it ain't shrunk none neither."
"How'd you know that?"
"Caleb told me."
"The things you men talk about!"
"Anyways, I wasn't talking about 'is… I was talking about 'is hip. Is it limber enough for 'im to move it right?
…hard and fast and long enough? Won't it start hurting and make 'im hafta stop?"
"Him and his wife will figure something out, lover-boy. Don't I sit on you and ride it sometimes?"
Calvin was sulking; she had been hard on him. So she winked and said, "Wanna do it now?"
* * * *
Having told his brother everything he knew short of a hands-on demonstration, Caleb considered Caliban's pre-experience sexual education complete. They still talked about sex in their bedroom at night, because Caleb liked talking about it. On Caliban's sixteenth birthday, Caleb had told him it was time for him to have his first woman and said he would help him find a whore. Caliban refused. He said he wanted to do it on his own. A few months later, 14Caleb asked if he had had sex yet.
"Yeah, I done it."
"You gonna tell me about 'er?"
"Not her, them. And no, I won't. You know what it's like, and I remember you told me all men feel it the same.
You expecting a blow by blow description, like I give you that time about beating my meat?"
"Nah, just wanted to know if you was doing it."
"Don't worry about me. I have a good time."
Caleb had asked because he had no idea when
Caliban could have been with women, if he really had been.
On the other hand, his brother was not playing with himself as often as before. He heard him at it maybe once every three or four months, so he figured the kid must have found an outlet. It was none of his business, he knew that, but if Caliban refused to tell him about it, how could they talk about sex? All men liked talking about sex, didn't they? But when he and Caliban talked sex, it was different. It wasn't like bragging about it to other guys. It was special, a kind of bonding, and it made him feel close to his kid brother.
* * * *
Caliban's quarter was on the far side of the ranch from the Johnson house. Caleb built their house there the 14following summer with the help of half a dozen ranch hands, using plans Caliban had drawn up. It was a small house, smaller than any Calvin had built for his married workers, but it had two bedrooms, one for each of them, because, as Caleb put it, "A house ain't a house if it got only one bedroom."
It was unlike any of the single-story houses they used to build on the frontier in the mid-1890s. The floor was only six inches off the ground, and it had no porch.
You took one step up through the front door and directly into the main room, a combination sitting room, dining room and kitchen, which stretched from one side of
"Caliban's. That way if I decide to get married, he'll have his house already built for 'im. He can't do much carpentry work."
"You thinking of getting married, Caleb?"
"Not yet, but I probably will someday. Caliban, 13too."
"I ain't gonna marry," Caliban said. "My leg gets a little worse every year, and I don't wanna be no burden to some woman."
"I think you'd make any woman a wonderful
husband," Darcie said.
"A wonderful husband who can't support her and who she'd hafta take care of. No, I ain't getting married.
Made up my mind about that long ago."
* * * *
"I don't think Caleb'll ever get married," Calvin told Darcie later. "He has too much fun being single."
"But Caliban… I mean, don't a man need to have sex?"
"He don't need to get married to have it. Look at Caleb. Or Calhoun, for that matter. He had to get married because he was having it. Besides, I ain't all that sure Caliban can give a woman what she needs."
" I am. I seen when he was only thirteen, when he had the accident. Yours ain't no bigger."
"It's big enough."
"I ain't complaining. I'm just saying what Caliban's got is as good as any man's. You think it shriveled up since 13then? I bet it's grown."
"It ain't, if you're that curious to know, but it ain't shrunk none neither."
"How'd you know that?"
"Caleb told me."
"The things you men talk about!"
"Anyways, I wasn't talking about 'is… I was talking about 'is hip. Is it limber enough for 'im to move it right?
…hard and fast and long enough? Won't it start hurting and make 'im hafta stop?"
"Him and his wife will figure something out, lover-boy. Don't I sit on you and ride it sometimes?"
Calvin was sulking; she had been hard on him. So she winked and said, "Wanna do it now?"
* * * *
Having told his brother everything he knew short of a hands-on demonstration, Caleb considered Caliban's pre-experience sexual education complete. They still talked about sex in their bedroom at night, because Caleb liked talking about it. On Caliban's sixteenth birthday, Caleb had told him it was time for him to have his first woman and said he would help him find a whore. Caliban refused. He said he wanted to do it on his own. A few months later, 14Caleb asked if he had had sex yet.
"Yeah, I done it."
"You gonna tell me about 'er?"
"Not her, them. And no, I won't. You know what it's like, and I remember you told me all men feel it the same.
You expecting a blow by blow description, like I give you that time about beating my meat?"
"Nah, just wanted to know if you was doing it."
"Don't worry about me. I have a good time."
Caleb had asked because he had no idea when
Caliban could have been with women, if he really had been.
On the other hand, his brother was not playing with himself as often as before. He heard him at it maybe once every three or four months, so he figured the kid must have found an outlet. It was none of his business, he knew that, but if Caliban refused to tell him about it, how could they talk about sex? All men liked talking about sex, didn't they? But when he and Caliban talked sex, it was different. It wasn't like bragging about it to other guys. It was special, a kind of bonding, and it made him feel close to his kid brother.
* * * *
Caliban's quarter was on the far side of the ranch from the Johnson house. Caleb built their house there the 14following summer with the help of half a dozen ranch hands, using plans Caliban had drawn up. It was a small house, smaller than any Calvin had built for his married workers, but it had two bedrooms, one for each of them, because, as Caleb put it, "A house ain't a house if it got only one bedroom."
It was unlike any of the single-story houses they used to build on the frontier in the mid-1890s. The floor was only six inches off the ground, and it had no porch.
You took one step up through the front door and directly into the main room, a combination sitting room, dining room and kitchen, which stretched from one side of
Similar Books
