Little House On The Prairie (1/?)

For miles and miles, so many that anyone would lose count, all a person could see was a long stretch of dirt, grass and sky.  Occasionally a river or lake, followed by a few small trees, would obstruct one’s view of...well, nothing.  But it was a beautiful kind of nothing; the sky was so big and vast that even after all the land was settled, filled with houses and farms, stables and families, it might still seem empty.

A single covered wagon sat lonely and small in the middle of everything (the middle of nothing), pulled by two tawny-brown horses which were now resting lazily between the blades of soft prairie grass. And in the back of the wagon: two young men, both in their twenties, laying casually wrapped around each other on a makeshift bed of quilts in the right hand corner.

Things were easier out in such a big, unsettled place.  Peter and Patrick could be together here without worrying about who might see. In 1878, two men as a couple was unheard of, and certainly looked down upon.  To the rest of the world, they were simply two bachelors living together, possibly while they both searched for spouses.  No one would ask, for such things were considered impolite and weren’t discussed.  But to each other, they were everything, in love just as much as any other couple, if not more. 

The next morning, bright and early at sunrise, Pete and Patrick were awake, dressed, and ready to continue their long journey.  Already they’d been traveling for weeks, coming from the far east to settle and build a new homestead in the west.  Patrick wanted to live in a town, where they could get supplies easily, and work.  But Pete had other plans: he wanted to live in Indian Territory, where they could plant their own crops (he’d heard from a neighbor back east that prairie soil was the best for farming) and be self-sustaining.  As always, Pete had gotten his way, and they couldn’t be too far now.  He had predicted that they’d be there by dusk today, and Patrick wouldn’t bet he was wrong.  They had spent almost the entire summer in that wagon, sleeping huddled together, sweating in the sticky air.  It was September now, some nights were colder than others, and they were both glad for the body heat the other provided.  Pete wanted to get their house built as soon as possible, so they would have a finished shelter when winter came. 

There wasn’t much to do on such a long trip. Pete took hold of the reins, steering the horses, but Patrick didn’t have anything to pass the time.  He couldn’t sleep, for the wagon continually jolted, uncomfortably forcing his body in all directions.  Pete had always liked his singing, and often he would request songs.  And of course, Patrick did the cooking every night.  At first there were the many vegetables they’d packed with them, but after the first month or so those were gone.  Now, Pete carried his gun right next to him in case they should come across a prairie hen or another type of animal they could eat for that day’s dinner.  But still, they were both growing weaker by the day, and could hardly wait until they found just the right spot to start building. 

It was around noon when the wagon stopped by a river.  Both men jumped out to stretch their legs, Pete leading the horses right up to the water to take a drink.  Patrick, laughing, slid off his boots and rolled up his pant legs, cheerfully wading into the water up to his knees.  Pete laughed along with him and hitched the horses back to the wagon, took off his own boots and rolled up his pants, and joined Patrick in the cold river.  They splashed each other playfully, both laughing, enjoying the water that rushed around them and cooled them off, such a relief from the half-day they’d spent in the wagon.

Pete, his eyes twinkling, grabbed Patrick’s waist gently and brought them together at the hip, their bodies so delightfully close.  He kissed Patrick softly on the lips, and the river water was so clear and blue that their reflections, just a little distorted, kissed as well. Pete pulled away, almost reluctantly, but didn’t let go of Patrick’s waist.

“We’ll settle here,” he said with a grin.