Eliot Garson
Winter Break at Rhinecliff

"So?" Dugford slipped the SUV into park and turned towards him, grinning.

"I've seen bigger," Benjamin joked. Still, he stared out the windshield at the massive, English-style country manor. A young woman dressed in an old-fashioned maid's uniform approached the car. The boys opened the doors and stepped out.

"Allison, how are you?" Dugford passed around her and clicked open the rear hatch of the SUV to pull out the luggage.

"Thank you, sir."

"Oh no, not 'sir,' Allison, you know to please just call me 'Dugs.'

"Yes, uh. Bill's out back. May I park the car for you?" Her glance lingered on the two lanky college boys.

"Sure, thanks. I'm likely to catch an earful for being so late as it is. Come on, Benj. Oh yeah, sorry. Benj, this is Allison. Allison this is Benj." He scooped up his suitcase and messenger bag and headed to the front door of the house; Benjamin smiled at the woman and followed behind Dugford with his duffel bag.

Dugford's mother stood just inside the foyer; he bent down and perfunctorily kissed her.

"Hi mom."

"Dugford. Hmm. How about a proper hug?"

He dropped his bags, placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek again.

"Mom, this is Benj."

Mrs. Wallord turned towards the other boy, took his hands in hers and beamed up at him. "It's so nice that you could join us, Benjamin. And I know that Dugford's thrilled about it."

Dugford elbowed Benjamin's side. "Nah, it's just that Benj would have frozen to death in Princeton, since they turn the heat off for the week."

"Oh my, stay all alone in your dorm through Christmas? But surely your parents would miss you during the holidays?" Over her shoulder, Mrs. Wallord dismissed Allison, who was lingering by the front doors, with a slight nod.

Benjamin pulled his hands free, took up his duffle. "My parents travel a lot. It's no big deal."

"Then it's our luck to have you."

As the boys followed Mrs. Wallord up the grand staircase to leave off their bags, she asked whether they'd gotten a late start coming up to Rhinecliff. Well, yes, Dugford admitted, and then too, there was all that holiday traffic they had to contend with.

"You've just missed your father, Dugford," she reproached him. "But he should be back from Washington by tomorrow afternoon."

At Mrs. Wallord's suggestion, Benjamin agreed to bunk with Dugford, rather than be lodged in the separate guest wing of the vast mansion. Upon entering Dugford's suite, Benjamin dropped his duffel alongside the extra bed by the fireplace and walked over to the large windows that overlooked the grounds and the Hudson River just beyond. He would have liked to linger at the luminous view, but dutifully followed Dugford and his mother down to tea.

Mrs. Wallord and the boys had just settled in the drawing room when two little girls burst through the doors after them. Dugford pulled one of the girls in for a hug.

"Hey, Becky."

"Hi, Duggy-who's that?" Becky pointed at her brother's blond, handsome friend as she tugged at her pigtail.

Mrs. Wallord set her tea aside, smoothed her flowing skirt, and stood up to handle her daughter. "Rebecca, where are your manners? Be friendly. This is Benjamin, Dugford's friend from Princeton," she crisply enunciated. "You remember, we discussed this. Benjamin is spending Christmas break with us, which is quite lovely. Now say 'hello' and introduce your friend."

"This is Olivia." Grousing, Becky marched over to the sideboard to claim a plateful of sweets. Olivia, standing off to the side, smiled awkwardly at the two boys.

Mrs. Wallord sighed. "Don't mind Becky. She's just a bit testy because her father said that she may not go skiing tomorrow."

"I am not."

"Becky, we have guests."

"I don't care." She fisted her tiny hands on her hips.

"You had better start caring if you wish to go skiing at all this week." Mrs. Wallord swished over beside her daughter and whispered in her ear. Chastened, Becky carried her plate over to one of the pale yellow sofas and sat to eat a scone, while Mrs. Wallord, with a rise of her eyebrows, silently pulled Dugford to join her on another sofa. She took his hand in hers, and, after pausing to brush his brown bangs from his eyes, spoke to him quietly.

Benjamin, noticing Becky's friend standing by herself alongside the buffet, walked over to her. "Hey, Olivia, what's good to eat?"

She looked up at him from under her long lashes. "The sugar cookies are very good, but the sugar gets all over you."

"They're the best, huh?" Benjamin placed three of the crescent-moon cookies on his plate. "You want some?"

"But the sugar. "

"Well, one could brush it off." He grinned at her.

"Oh. Okay." Olivia loaded up a plate to overflowing with the cookies and licked her fingers. She glanced shyly at the hunched figure of her friend, but as Becky kept her eyes averted, Olivia sat down next to her new acquaintance instead.

Benjamin smiled at her. "You from Rhinecliff, Olivia?"

She struggled with her mouth full of cookie. "Uh-huh, but we call it Rhinebeck." She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, some people do."

"Okay. What's there to do in Rhinebeck? You go dancing?"

"No-you're silly." She giggled.

"So, what do you do?"

"I dunno."

"You go to the movies?"

"Sometimes. Most of the time we watch them on TV."

"Have you seen any of the 'Harry Potter' movies?"

"Yeah, I love them. Do you?"

"Yup. I'm trying to learn parseltongue." Benjamin spoke loudly enough that Becky, sulking across from them, would hear; she took the bait.

"You can't speak parseltongue, it's not real."

"How do you know, Becky?"

"Because snakes don't talk."

"Are you sure?"

Becky continued speaking in an insistent, but less grouchy, tone. "Of course I'm sure."

"Oh. But how about when they hiss?"

"That's just hissing." Both girls laughed over their cookies at the silly boy. Benjamin hissed at his cookie and snapped it up in one bite. Olivia threw her head back and pumped her legs out as if she were sitting on a swing; Becky laughed so hard that she spit a cookie onto her plate.

"Are you girls disturbing Benjamin?" Mrs. Wallord patted Dugford's back and stood up.

Benjamin stood up also. "Oh, they're not bothering me, I-"

"Please sit down, Benjamin, we are not so formal."

He waited anyway to sit down again until the woman had settled herself next to her daughter; she lightly stroked the girl's hair.

Benjamin swiped his mouth with a napkin. "I was just going to ask Becky, do you find many snakes in the woods up here?"

"Oooh, nooo, I hate snakes," Becky answered.

"Me too," he responded. "But if we could catch one, we could try to talk to it."

"That's gross. And scary."

"Maybe we'll just whisper to it?"

"No way!"

"I think they'd already be hibernating." Dugford walked over and sat down on the sofa with Benjamin and Olivia.

"Oh yes, thank goodness," Mrs. Wallord responded primly. "What's all this about snakes?"

Becky pointed at Benjamin and sang out, "He wants to talk to snakes."

Dugford smirked. "I didn't know that about you, Benj."

Benjamin asked somberly, "If snakes aren't available, what about rabbits? Are there any bunnies around here? Maybe if we really try, we could understand each other."

Olivia jumped up. "Tell him, Becky. Tell him what we saw!"

"Olivia and I were out by the back gazebo and we saw one today."

"Really? Let's go talk to it."

"You're too funny. You're as silly as Dugford."

"Hey, Becky, I thought I was the silliest."

Becky restated her loyalty: "Okay, you are, Duggy."

"Well, I agree Dugs is by far the silliest, but I still want to go talk to the rabbit," Benjamin declared. He stood up gamely, but Mrs. Wallord quashed the idea.

"Another time, children? It's dark out now."

*

After breakfast the next morning, Benjamin and Dugford walked out on the dull green winter lawn, eager for free time from studying. The day promised to be warm, so the boys skipped their winter jackets in favor of sweatshirts. They descended the hill toward the Hudson, winding past red-rock outcroppings, and continued on a packed-dirt trail that snaked the rest of the way down the slope. Dugford's red setter, Sandy, trotted next to him; his hand lazily brushed her back.

Senses full, neither boy spoke as their boots took to the dirt path with a satisfying crunch. Sweet, musty air perfumed their nostrils and teased their hair. At the shoreline, the water lapped at the pebbly riverfront. Late-morning light dotted the water with sequins.

They strode past a wide aluminum dock that jutted up onto the beach, and stopped to survey the river. Benjamin leaned against one of the dock pilings, his head coming to rest on a weathered, red and blue life ring that hung from a rusty hook. At water's edge, Dugford swiveled the heels of his boots into the sand as if he was trying to plant himself. The setter sniffed at the corners and crevices under the dock, licking occasionally at hidden tastes.

Dugford reached down, picked up a stone and skipped it out over the water. Benjamin came over to join him and pointed to a distant white bob marking the channel.

"Dugs, you ever reach that buoy?"

Dugford raised a hand to his brow to block the glare. "Maybe. Looks kind of far." They pitched at the buoy; the setter, mistaking the throw for a retrieval game, started to swim out. Dugford yelled, "Sandy, get back here. You crazy dog, don't go chasing stones." Sandy turned back, reached the shore, and shook herself enthusiastically, spraying water over the boys. Dugford wiped his face, grinning. "Yeah-doggie water." The setter nuzzled him and went back to sniffing along the shoreline.

Benjamin sat down and hugged his knees. "Can't believe you got to grow up here. It's so peaceful, you must love it."

"Yeah, but sometimes I hated it. It's too isolated, couldn't get to see any other kids. Well, occasionally in Rhinebeck, down the road." He squatted next to Benjamin. "That's one of the reasons I invited you up."

"Thanks a lot for having me."

Dugford chopped at the sand with a stick. "Sure. I'm glad you came."

"Me too."

After a few minutes, they got up, dusted off, and climbed the steep path from the river toward the gatehouse. Once over the crest of the hill, the trail entered a dense forest of ash and oak. The setter happily nosed bushes and brush and jumped after birds that pecked among the trees.

The boys spent a relaxing afternoon at the gatehouse, visiting with Anne Marie and Mickey Lamplighter. While growing up, Dugford had grown close to the retired Army couple that served as a security team for the estate and as surrogate grandparents for him and his sister. The boys snacked on mulled cider and banana bread that Anne Marie kept at the ready. Mickey rhythmically tossed his security-guard cap up in the air as he told yarns of the various wayfarers that he and Anne Marie had aided over the years; passersby occasionally stumbled upon the quiet country road and found that the gatehouse was the only place in sight to turn to for help with a broken-down car or a flat tire. Mickey glowed with pride, recounting the time a tourist to the area asked if the Wallord property belonged to a former president.

Trekking through the woods on the way back to the great house, the boys stayed even more alert after Mickey's warning to watch out for bear that in the warm autumn hadn't yet hibernated. But Sandy, busy as a jackrabbit, hopped and bopped among all the bushes and cantankerous undergrowth, rooting out the arcane essences that flavor a dog's world.

*

The following day, the boys conceded that the planned day of skiing and snowboarding had to be put off. So much freezing rain had fallen since dawn that everything in its path was set aglitter. Despite the boys' wishes to venture out anyway, Mrs. Wallord would not allow it.

Still, neither boy wanted to face their neglected schoolbooks, so Dugford lent Benjamin a bathing suit and they spent the morning goofing off in the indoor pool. With their shouts echoing around the tiled and glassed room, the boys played pool basketball, chasing each other from the shallows to the deep end and back again. At one point they wrestled mightily over the ball until Dugford broke off and relinquished it to Benjamin. Dugford swam away and crossed and re-crossed the pool at a fevered pace.

Dugford became moodily withdrawn from his puzzled friend; he and Benjamin were not in sync again until the afternoon, when they sat at tea and laughed together over Becky and Olivia's antics. The girls came into the drawing room with faces made up as bunnies, and hopped over to the boys to be fed cookies. Becky demanded that Benjamin talk to her in bunny-tongue and he complied, improvising a soft trill that he thought sounded suspiciously bird-like, or even worse, like the strangled warble a wounded bird might let out. But Becky was impressed enough with Benjamin's show to insist that he talk to any real bunnies that might scamper across the grounds. Aware that his cheeks must be flushed, Benjamin glanced for a moment at Dugford's grinning face, but agreed that he would do so on the next occasion that the weather permitted.

*

Mickey and Anne Marie arrived at the great house for Christmas dinner, along with four other couples. Dugford and Benjamin, preferring laughter and easy conversation rather than a discussion of the economy or politics, sat with Becky and Olivia at the far end of the table. Dugford's father set the boys up with spiked eggnog, and soon they were a rollicking pair, caught up in their own jokes and stories.

The liquor continued after the meal until the boys, tired and blurry-headed, went up to bed. Benjamin undressed and pulled the down comforter up over himself, feeling unsure if it was wise to lie down so soon in a bed that seemed to rock as if he were aboard a ship. Perhaps a burning ship, he mused, as orange flames from the fireplace danced about the otherwise darkened room.

Dugford also undressed, but sat hunched up in bed, the comforter tented over his bent knees. Encouraged by the liquor in his system, he tried to set aside his hesitancy. Finally, his voice found a bit of strength. "Benj. "

"What?" He mumbled back sleepily.

"I. I want to ask you something. Tell you something."

"Uh-huh." Moments passed; Benjamin rolled over and propped himself up on the pillows, but pulled the comforter close to keep the air from his bare chest. "What's up?"

"You, uh, have to promise me something first."

Benjamin's mind jump-started toward awake. "What is it?"

"We've become good friends, right? So I want to tell you. but no matter what you say, Benj, I want you to promise we'll still be. that you'll stay my friend."

Benjamin's heart started to race. "I don't know what you mean." He strained to see the other boy, but Dugford's bed was farther from the fireplace and his face too shadowed.

Dugford implored, "Will you promise?"

"I guess so."

"I. damn, this is hard." Dugford's voice cracked; he tried again. "Benj, I want to be with you."

Benjamin would have bolted upright, but he reflexively steadied himself. "What do you mean?"

"Hook up. have sex with you," he practically whispered.

Benjamin's breath barely passed his lips as he tried to find grounding, but murmuring phantoms scampered around the edges of his consciousness. He tried to slam the door on the images, but the murmuring lingered.

"Benj, say something. Please."

"I. uh, I don't know, Dugs. It's not what I want. Not what I'm into."

"For sure?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. are you shocked?"

"Uh-huh."

".you didn't know?"

"Clueless."

"Sorry, guess it came out of the blue. thought you realized."

Did I? "Dugford, it's-"

But Dugford cut him off. "Just sleep on it. it'd be nice. Think about it, okay?" Benjamin didn't answer him. "Okay, Benj?"

"It's not going to change."

"Just sleep on it."

They drifted into uneasy silence. After a few minutes, Benjamin got up and went into the bathroom and stared through the window at the moon sliding over the river, brushing everything in pale, tallow light. He tried to think, but the liquor and his friend's proposition had swamped him. He had to will his mind to register that Dugford hadn't actually leapt from the other bed to attack him.

On returning to bed, Benjamin couldn't help himself, and pulled on a T-shirt to cover his nakedness. He lay back, listened to Dugford's breathing in sleep. Why did I let him think I'd sleep on it? Crap. Now he's going to think I'm considering it. am I? He forced himself to picture Dugford undressed as he'd seen him on occasion in the bathroom or locker room. Yeah, he's good-looking-so? .feel nothing about him naked. or do I? Don't want that. Jesus! Was he fantasizing about me when he was jacking off last night? Shit. how didn't I know he's gay? Or is that a lie? Wasn't I suspicious sometimes? So why did I keep dismissing it? Great strategy, asshole. Just deny anything you don't want to see .so, is that the only reason Dugs likes me? No, that's a lie, idiot. He wants to be friends anyway.

At moments, drowsiness touched the boy's eyes, but shortly he was startled awake again by evaded images, the dust blown off by Dugford's offer. Tossing and turning until morning light began to filter through the windows, Benjamin felt his heart race every time his thoughts brought him back to the central question: What was he supposed to do about Dugford? Somehow, he had to pull his fragmented self together. Despite vague awareness that his thinking was off, Benjamin gathered up his duffel, went into the bathroom, and dressed. He hadn't been on a run in almost two months-he'd pulled a muscle in his lower back during a cross-country meet at the end of October-but this was the day to start running again.

Shifting his duffel bag onto his shoulders, Benjamin walked out unseen through the front door of the house, into a frozen world of ice-shrouded plants and trees. He lectured himself to stop panicking, but still, he had to fight against reawakened whispers. He told himself: Don't go there, or you're dead.

Benjamin narrowed his scope toward a path of escape. He figured that at least he didn't have to worry about bears anymore; Mickey Lamplighter had reckoned that with the cold snap, they had finally gone to sleep. About to break into a freeing run, Benjamin checked himself, mindful that his finicky back would have to bear the weight of all his belongings awkwardly strung across his shoulders. He dropped the duffel bag to the ground, unzipped it, and tried to distribute his boots, clothes, laptop, and textbooks more evenly. After he'd settled his gear, he started out again. He took the laurel path toward the gatehouse, and the way out.

As Benjamin ran, the smell of the tall hemlocks and pines refreshed his anxious mind. How he'd missed running! In pace with his feet, he silently chanted: What about Dugford? What about Dugford? Slowly, the boy's mind soothed as the rush of adrenaline was dissipated with his movement. Once he finally reached the darkened gatehouse, Benjamin felt enough at ease to wonder if he didn't need to leave Rhinecliff after all? He ran around the gatehouse a couple of times, deliberating, before he made himself turn back.

Benjamin couldn't solve the riddle in one run or even a few. Each morning after the incident, he would rise at dawn, take his solitary run, and shower before Dugford awoke. Dugford granted Benjamin the space he needed, not fighting the barrier that fell between them; in any event, Benjamin's withdrawal provided a clear answer to Dugford's longings as they spent the days studying and taking passionless walks along the wooded trails. An outing to Hunter Mountain enforced the emotional separation between them, with Dugford spending the time snowboarding and Benjamin skiing.

Finally, on the morning of New Year's Eve, the barrier lifted. The boys were in the canary-yellow kitchen, downing pancakes, as Mrs. Wallord herself stood at the giant turquoise stove. She watched the batter sizzle till the edges browned; humming with satisfaction, she flipped the pancakes onto a serving plate and presented them to the boys. A squeal of laughter betrayed Becky and Olivia's eager approach. As they entered the room, Becky ran to Benjamin and started pulling on his sleeve. "Benjy, come! They're here!"

"Who's here?" Benjamin let himself be pulled up.

"The bunnies!"

It was the first sighting in days. Benjamin, with a twinkling smile, glanced at Dugford. "All right, let's go."

"Take your coats, children," Mrs. Wallord demanded. Benjamin's jacket lay upstairs with his duffle, so Mrs. Wallord pulled out a massive wool coat of her husband's and insisted Benjamin wear it. In the spontaneous game of dress-up, they all put on outerwear willy-nilly and raced to the French doors leading to the veranda. After a moment of hesitation, Mrs. Wallord, too, grabbed a parka and followed them outside.

"Come on, Benjy-they're going to leave!" Becky tore at his sleeve.

Outside, they walked on stealthy feet toward a rabbit sniffing the air beside a dormant, marble fountain; a sprite, frozen mid-leap, rose up over the fountain's dish. Dugford held out a crossing-guard's arm in front of the girls.

"Just Benjamin goes on." Dugford winked at the gray wool bulk with Benjamin's head poking out at the top. "Let him talk to the bunny first."

Benjamin walked quietly over the frozen grass to a spot a short distance from the rabbit. It hadn't moved, but its body was taut for a leap away. Benjamin whispered, his words softly caressing the skittish animal as the boy eased forward one Red Wing boot at a time. He made it to within a couple of feet of it and cocked his head to one side, as if listening to the enchanted rabbit. The boy nodded his head occasionally to emphasize he'd understood. Finally, he bowed low and walked slowly backward. Charmed, the girls smiled in wonder at each other. Dugford, standing aside, barely suppressed a laugh.

"The bunny's a girl," Benjamin announced.

Olivia's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"She said so. She's just one year old and it's her birthday."

Becky frowned. "No way."

"Really."

Becky's crooked smile betrayed her struggle. "What else did she say?"

"She likes carrots. I said that we would leave her a bunch for her birthday today and every birthday."

"Mommy, did you hear that? We have to get carrots!" Becky grabbed Olivia's hand and, bubbling, they ran off toward the house with Mrs. Wallord trailing after them.

Once the door slammed, Dugford laughed and clasped his grinning friend on the shoulder. Benjamin stiffened for a moment, until Dugford pulled away. But as they walked together back to the house, Dugford said, "You were pretty great, pretending like that."

"Who was pretending?"

_ _

In addition to his love of reading and writing stories, Eliot Garson enjoys hiking the mountains of South or North America, Europe and the Middle East. Eliot has completed two novels and hopes to see them in print soon.

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