Tahj grew up in a household of men. Men who worked out, who cared for their bodies in ways that women can’t equal. Carbs, calories, protein, fuel to sculpt the perfect body. Every action calculated for perfection in the physical form.
Beauty didn’t always create harmony though. HIs dads created him to be perfect, and he was a close to perfect physically as a man could get. His bones and muscles filled out the frame they’d created like a game designer’s character is fleshed on a grid with symmetry and fine detail. Each cell evenly divided, each layer flawlessly applied. Yet the effortless beauty built into his physical self was not mirrored in his soul.
His eyes drew everyone’s attention, and he knew it. He almost hated his dads for putting his distinctive eyes against his deer-colored skin. They must have known when they chose such striking colors that his eyes would put people on their guard, that it would be difficult for anyone to focus on anything else. His silver irises mesmerized and held a person’s gaze far beyond what was comfortable. And he worked it. He would stand silently staring at passerby just to see the reaction when they couldn’t look away.
Tahj was a showpiece for his dads. All four of them. He was created by group consensus without any genetic involvement of their own. They chose each characteristic carefully molding him into the being of their own choosing. He was loved and spoiled as a child, passed from one dad to another, from one friend to another. He was played with, doted on and loved by a nanny until the age of ten when he began to change from little boy to young man. Then his dads began to lose interest in him. His cute boyishness disappeared as he lost his teeth and became pudgy in puberty. They expected beauty, his dads; they expected perfection. They didn’t expect the transitional ugliness a boy goes through when his teeth come in crooked, hair grows in awkward places, and the structure of his face changes. It was difficult for men who kept themselves beautiful to accept this little man who looked like none of them. Without any physical investment in his appearance, he looked like a stranger to all four which made him difficult to love.
Tahj knew something changed. Almost overnight he had gone from petted and adored to ignored. The woman who had loved him was discharged because his dads thought that he was old enough to care for himself after school. There was Katarina, but she was the housekeeper, and her concern was for the house, not the boy. Perhaps his dads thought she would fill the gap left by the nanny’s exit, but she didn’t. It wasn’t her nature to love a lonesome little boy.
The four fathers expected brilliance, and Tahj was certainly capable of it; he was programmed for it, but genetics hadn’t perfected the art of personality design. And although Tahj’s environment was clean and perfect, his understanding of his world was shaken after the abrupt removal of the one woman in his life.
“Katerina!” Tahj bellowed. “Katarina!”
“Ya, Tahj,” said Katerina appearing in the doorway. “What is it you want?”
“Katerina, what do I do today?”
“You study, you workout, you eat, you run, you go to bed. Then tomorrow you get up and do it all over again. Eh?”
“I thought that was it.” He lay there watching her as she walked away.
Katerina was perfect also. Tall, elegant, long-legged and blond. A nordic princess wasted on a household of men who loved themselves.
Tahj thought to himself that he had to stop that, calling her in just to watch her walk away. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her tight rear end encased in the thin, white, stretch denim that she always wore. And that was the part of his make up that his dads forgot.
He wasn’t gay.
And it wasn’t only that he didn’t get off staring at perfect male bodies; it was that he got off staring at women--the way they smelled, the softness of their bodies, the way they smiled and tilted their heads, the soft musical sound of their voices. And that one girl, the one who looked at him today in school, that one especially intrigued him. He remembered her lips, the way her tongue played around the edges of her teeth, the way it danced between her lips when she thought. He watched her long golden hair glide like liquid silk across the middle of her back when she turned her head today to look for him.
He saw her see him. He saw her eyes seek his for just that fraction of a second before she shifted her attention away. It was dangerous, that look. It was trouble. But it was intoxicating.
Tahj stripped off his shirt dropping it on the floor beside the sofa. Katerina would pick it up. That was her job, maintaining the perfection of the household. He pulled up his watch and found the coordinates he needed and left the house. It was time to run.
___________________
The length of his stride was effortless, one foot in front of the other, powered by muscles primed for movement. His breath was even and unlabored despite the miles of running. He checked his watch and turned into a neighborhood that sat on the edge of town while scanning the properties, each house a unique expression of the owners inside. Colonial, craftsman, contemporary, several architectural styles were mixed side by side. The variety was interesting, but left Tahj uneasy. In his world, styles were separated by boundaries, not tossed together like shells on the sand. But then this neighborhood wasn’t created by architects and landscapers. It was appropriated by public domain after the Relocation and Replacement Act.
Tahj didn’t remember that time except for what he’d been told and what he’d read in school. His was the first full generation to grow up after the reapportionment. He saw only the ease and beauty of his own life. His steps slowed as he neared his destination and tried to think of an excuse to stop. He was thirsty; he was tired; he needed a bathroom. All true. A ten mile run would definitely cause all of those, so they were legitimate excuses. Even better, he spotted the girls in the porch swing of the farmhouse on his left.
“Billy, do you see that? That’s him! That’s Tahj! How’d he get here?” Taylor gripped Billy’s arm and shook it.
“Well, Taylor, I’d say that since he has no car and is wearing running shoes, and he’s sweaty and panting, I’d say that he’s run all the way here.” She sounded less enthusiastic than Taylor about the interruption that Tahj’s arrival was going to bring. They’d been sitting here, toes on the floor, gently rocking back and forth in the swing for the better part of an hour, both quiet together.
Tahj waved half-heartedly as though he hadn’t just run 10 miles to get there, as though he was startled to realize they lived on his route. He silenced his watch so they couldn’t hear the voice announcing that he’d reached his destination. “Hey! Am I glad to see you two. I started out running and completely lost track of where I was going. This your house, Billy? Do you think I could borrow your bathroom? I really hate to ask, but I’m too far from a public one to wait. How gross. I’m sorry.” Tahj lifted his arm and combed back his dark, long hair from his eye, his bare bicep displayed at the perfect angle.
“Yes, I think you could use my bathroom,” Billy said.
Tahj stood waiting.
The silence was irritating.
“Oh, um, yeah, I get you, Billy. MAY I use your bathroom, please?” Tahj grinned at her, flashing his charm. Taylor rolled her eyes at Billy.
“I’ll show you where it is,” Billy stood up. She gestured toward the front door. “Come on. It’s just down the hall toward the kitchen.”
When Billy returned, she carried three sports drinks and a basket of cookies which she place on the wrought iron table near the swing. She sat back hard against the slats of the swing. “What was he thinking running this far over? How could he risk it? If the director comes by in his little golf cart, there could be hell to pay.”
Taylor shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. What’s wrong with him being here on the porch having a drink with friends.”
Billy stared at her. “You know the rules. No fraternization with opposite genders outside of supervised visits in a public space.”
“So, this is a public space.”
“No. Not really, and you know it.”
Taylor glanced at the front door. “What do you think he’s doing here?”
Billy rolled her eyes and turned to look at her. “What do you think he’s doing here? He came to see you” she shook her head again.
“If the director comes by he’ll see three of us sitting on your porch talking. There’s no law against running, stopping, and talking. It’ll be alright.” Taylor sipped her drink, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
The screen door squeaked when Tahj pushed it wide across the wooden floor of the porch. The farmhouse was about as authentic as it could get with a wide front porch and the grey painted floor surrounded by a white railing. A New American flag flew off one end. There were three rocking chairs and a porch swing. By the front door two milk cans held red geraniums.
“I like your house, Billy.” Tahj flopped into a rocking chair across the porch. He flashed a grin. “It’s....farmey. Like a Norman Rockwell painting.”
“How far did you run this morning?” Taylor had no idea where he lived.
Tahj crooked the right corner of his mouth up in a half smile. “I think it was about 10 miles.”
“Geez, do you run that far every day?”
“Yeah, but usually I run in the other direction. Or in circles. But today I thought I’d try over here. New scenery.”
Billy grunted.
“So what are you girls doing this summer? Big plans? Continental travel?” Tahj’s silver eyes took on that bedroom look, half closed and thoughtful. His eyes searched for Taylor’s, but she still wouldn’t connect with him. “Taylor?”
“No, we’re just hanging out. I can’t think of anything until I get through this test. My dads and I might be taking a road trip later. Thinking about going out to the Grand Canyon.”
Yeah, I been there.” Tahj nodded. “That’s a good trip. We were out that way last year when one of my dad’s had a conference in Phoenix. We drove past it.”
“What did you think?” Billy asked.
“It’s a really big hole in the ground.” Tahj grinned and winked at Billy...
(to be continued)