Whispers of Home Read Online Free PDF

toward home. The black truck pulled into a parking spot in front of the hardware store.
    “Would you like a ride somewhere?” Travis asked, leaning toward the open passenger window.
    “No, thank you,” Jaron replied and kept on walking. In fact, he walked faster until Bobby protested the speed.
    “You sure?”
    “Very.”
    “I’m Travis, by the way.”
    Jaron remained silent and just kept walking. The truck slowly moved along-side them.
    “And you are...”
    “This is Bobby and I’m Jaron.” Jaron didn’t want to be rude.
    “Well, it’s nice to meet you Bobby and Jaron.”
    Jaron stopped walking, looked at him in his big fancy truck, and shook his head in disgust. Of course the hottest guy in this town wouldn’t remember the little queer who got bullied every day since seventh grade. Jaron thought for sure that was the end of it, the truck wasn’t following anymore, but then he heard a door slam. Jaron stopped, looking back just in time to see Travis get out of the truck and jog toward them.
    Damn it. Okay, Jaron changed his mind. He didn’t want to see Travis again. Well, maybe just a picture, preferably one where the man was half clothed...or not clothed at all. Please God that would be good. Amen. In Jaron’s mind he imagined himself with his head bowed and his hands folded together. That way maybe God would give him what he wanted, if he did the whole prayer thing right, even if it was all in his mind. Wasn’t God supposed to know what you were thinking? And wasn’t that a scary thought.
    Sorry for thinking up all the bad things that run through my head every minute of every day. Especially about that one buff porn star. In my defense I really can’t help it. I’m just that weird. Oh, and sorry for watching porn. Amen.
    “Let me help you with your bag,” Travis said and took it from him before Jaron even had a say.
    “Thank you.” Politeness was going to kill Jaron, damn it. He had worked hard to curb his big mouth over the years, as he got his ass kicked on more than one occasion. A good ass kicking was a strong motivator and he was successful most of the time.
    “It’s my pleasure.” They walked in silence for a couple minutes, Jaron very much aware of Travis’ presence beside him. Travis was huge compared to Jaron, with wide shoulders and long legs. And his jeans and black t-shirt seemed to make him look bigger somehow. He had on boots, the kind a real cowboy would wear. They were scuffed and well worn. They probably added an inch to his height. Jaron still only came up to his shoulder.
    “So how long are you in town?”
    “I plan to stay for a while.”
    “How long is a while?”
    “I’m hoping to stay for good actually.” He was trying to make a home here for himself and Bobby, even though coming back to this town was like re-facing a firing squad whose guns misfired the first time around.
    After that the questions stopped and a companionable silence fell between them. Pickleville always seemed to be surrounded by trees, even in the heart of the little town where the storefronts lined up in two small rows with Main Street in between them. The backdrop was a forested area. At some point in Jaron’s childhood he had learned how many forested acres surrounded the small town but couldn’t remember at the moment. His mom’s street was a dead-end street and it ended with trees surrounding the edge of the road. If you looked hard enough you could make out a trail that Jaron knew led back to a sand pit. The local garbage dump took sand from the pit to put over all the garbage the locals produced.
    As a kid it was forbidden to play back there. His mom always told him it was dangerous. But Jaron went anyway and had a great time playing hide-and-seek when he was little. When he got a little older he would meet Brian back there and they would fool around. That was where Jaron had had his first kiss. Brian had been the nerdy type, but a cute nerd who fumbled around a lot and apologized for