What’s in a Name (A Guest Post)

 Markwildyr.com, Post #225

 Image courtesy of clipartix.com:

 

This week, Don Travis and I are guest posting each other’s blog sites. The one he’s chosen to give me is a flash piece called “What’s in a Name.” Let’s see, shall we?

 

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WHAT’S IN A NAME?

By Don Travis

 Mirrian-Webster defines corker as something exceptional. If so, Aiden Corker was aptly named. That described him right down to his toenails, and believe me, I’d seen him right down to those bare toenails. Not like I would have preferred to see him, you understand, but in the locker room at the pool or in the showers after a game of golf. To me, he was walking perfection. Handsome. Built. Bold. Smart. Considerate. And—unfortunately—totally heterosexual. I was so consumed by living on his fringes that I’d even looked up the meaning of his first name. Aiden. English meaning a fiery young man. Nailed it!

I had an unusual Christian name, as well, although my family name of Smith was about as common as you can get. My first name was kinda symbolic, as well. Eban was likewise English and meant stone. And that’s the way I got around Aiden… rock hard. My mind went sort of flinty, too. My tongue might as well have been stone because it didn’t function very well in his presence. If you get the idea I was awed by Aaiden, you’d be right.

The summer after we graduated Rainsville High—me as valedictorian and Aaiden as salutatorian—I attended a scout camp in the mountains in the northern part of the state. To my delight—and terror—Aiden was there, as well. I almost packed up and went home when I found he shared a bungalow with me and four other guys. But he made it easy, taking the time to talk to me like I was a regular guy, not a tongue-tied idiot. Before long, I could say “good morning” and “good afternoon” without stuttering.

Halfway through the camp, the scoutmasters sent us on field trips, one of which was overnight… and I was paired with Aiden. I enjoyed the walk among the fragrant pines and spruce and along ridges that opened to vast vistas across broad canyons. Jays and other birds flitted among the branches and chirped at us as we passed. I fed a chipmunk scraps from my mess kit before scouring the stainless-steel vessel with sand.

Twilight found us on a flat piece of ground near the peak of a mountain at about 11,000 feet. It had been a glorious day, and I’d not given thought to sleeping arrangements. So I was surprised to find myself helping set up a two-man tent and horrifically thrilled that Aiden was pounding pegs into the stony earth right beside me. We would share the tent. Wow!

He was so casual about it that I soon put aside my apprehension and enjoyed his company. He really was a great guy… in addition to being handsome and sexy and totally desirable. Later, when we turned in, I watched out of the corners of my eyes as my tentmate stripped to his skivvies—black Haines briefs—and slipped into his sleeping bag. He did it in a hurry, not because he was shy, but because at this altitude, the nights were cold even in the summer. I wondered if he eyed my plain white jockeys as I crawled into my own bag.

“Brrr,” Aiden said. “Shoulda brought PJs.”

“Yeah, they should have warned us.” I bit down on my tongue after that pedestrian reply.

To my delight, we spent a few minutes talking about the day’s hike and a couple of the counselors before he doused the flashlight and settled down for the night. It took me a long time to go to sleep. I kept fighting the urge to reach across the couple of feet that separated us to make sure he was really there. If nothing else, I could always say I spent the night with Aiden Corker. Let them make of that what they will.

 **** 

I wasn’t really asleep. It was too cold for that, but I was in a stupor when a hand shook my shoulder.

“D-damn, Eban, I’m freezing. How about you?”

“Cold. Uncomfortable. But not freezing.”

“Your fart bag must be better than mine. Can I crawl in with you? I’ll put my bag over the top of us.”

My mouth went dry as I nodded my head before realizing he couldn’t see me. “Y-yeah. Sure.”

Then Aiden Corker, my idol, my wet dream, unzipped my bag, told me to turn on my side, and crawled into bed with me. I barely noticed how cold his flesh was, all I knew was that Aiden’s chest pressed flush against my back and Aiden’s basket was shoved against my butt.

“Better,” he pronounced after a moment. “You all right?”

I wasn’t. A vital part of me was mimicking the English meaning of my first name, and my sphincter was twitching like crazy. But I swallowed hard and mumbled, “Yeah.”

“Kinda close quarters, isn’t it?” he remarked as he settled himself more comfortably, which involved pressing his package against me. Was it my imagination, or was something taking place down there? Whoops. Not my imagination.

“You know,” he said, putting his arm around me and pulling me closer. “I’ve wondered what this would be like since we were both sophomores.”

I didn’t have to do a thing while Aiden lived up to his name. A fiery young man!

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Thanks, Don, for lending me one of your stories. Hope my readers enjoyed it. Likewise, hope yours enjoy mine on your blog site.

 More Wildyr Tales, a second anthology of some of my stories, was published as an ebook on the 24^th of last month. A print version should follow shortly thereafter.

 JMS Books accepted the third anthology called Gabacho and Other Wildyr Stories and scheduled it for release in January of next year.

My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:

Website and blog: markwildyr.com

Email: markwildyr@aol.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr

Twitter: @markwildyr

Now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

See you later.

 

Mark

 ew posts the first and third Thursday of the month at 6:00 a.m., US Mountain time.