The Arborists

Tree specialists Oliver and Peebles meet at a screening of the LGBTQ film Passages. Although Oliver is married to a woman, the only real obstacle that stands in the way of their relationship is Peebles' mother, Marge, whose house he shares. Oliver proposes a solution that suits everybody.

B is for Bisexual - short stories by Laura P. Valtorta

Transcript

Check out www.gattafilms.com.

See "AI in the Family" on the Fawesome channel, starring Marco Valtorta. 

                                    The Arborists

                             by Laura Puccia Valtorta

         They had different personalities, so there was no reason for Oliver (who was loud) and Peebles (who was soft) to be at the same screening of the Ira Sachs bisexual romantic film Passages, except they were both Queer. They both also happened to be arborists, but that had nothing to do with the film. 

            In everyday bread-and-butter life, were worlds apart. Oliver shared his Christian household with a wife and two small children. Peebles lived with Marge, his bossy, in-your-face mother. Peebles worked in the obnoxio flag-flying suburbs; Oliver cared for the trees in downtown Columbia, and his life had a downtown vibe. Although they had both attended the same arborist-certification courses, they hung out with different crowds. During the course, Oliver ate lunch with his meal-blessing church buddies; Peebles ate alone.

            Then their lives met and converged. At the screening of Passages, they sat in the back row, ten seats apart. They both studied the sex scenes carefully but avoided laughing too loud at the jokes. They both pruned their branches at the climax, when Tomas had sex with Agathe. 

            Between the first and second screenings, waiting in line for popcorn they recognized each other and nodded. "Do you like this film?" asked Oliver.

            "Yes! Franz Rogowski is the best."

            "Next week, they're gonna show stuff by British director Francis Lee," noted Oliver. "God's Country and Ammonite."

            Peebles' lips parted in anticipation.

            Thursday through Wednesday, caring for trees, enjoying the fall weather, Peebles contemplated Oliver, and how his streetside Christian lifestyle contrasted with this nonchalant 2 p.m. appearance at an LGBTQ+ film festival in the center of town. The man had balls, Peebles thought. But all arborists had balls. The work was daily dangerous. Donning spiked boots. Climbing tall trees. Walking on roofs. Using chainsaws. Half of Peebles' coworkers were missing fingers and arms.

            The next weekend, screening of God's Country was a must-attend. Peebles told his mother he needed the day off to drink beer - he didn't say where. Drinking beer was the kind of entertainment Marge understood. "Y'all enjoy yourself, Son. Let it all hang out."

            Peebles planned to do just that. He wore a red plaid shirt and yellow suspenders. His best lavender baseball cap squashed down his frizzy curls. He carried plenty of cash so as not to leave a virtual trail.

            Oliver was wearing a black T-shirt that highlighted his tan skin, and ripped jeans. His greasy flip-flops were gross, but his toenails were well manicured. His arms were strong, muscular. Peebles admired the heft and curve of his top-heavy. carved hairstyle. 

            The two men stood with drinks and popcorn in the dark front lobby and regarded each other. "Business good?" said Oliver.

            "Way good," said Peebles. "I pruned a pecan tree yesterday. Brought the pecans to my mother."

            "Your mother? Why'd she name you 'Peebles?'" 

            Peebles shrugged. "After Melvin and Mario."

            They walked up the stairs to the large screening room at the Popcorn Palace and sat next to each other. "I always sit in back," said Oliver. "So's I can be alone." As soon as the lights went out, he reached over, removed Peebles' lavender baseball cap, and kissed him. Soon, their strong hands were all over each other. Peebles enjoyed Oliver touching him everywhere. For them, there was no need to wait for the rustic sex scene between the two young farmers. They were already in the Popcorn Palace restroom having sex in the stall. It was a tight squeeze with toilet paper holders and coat hooks poking them. "We need to go to my workshed," said Ryian afterwards. "I've got an old couch." 

            Peebles nodded, breathless.

            Oliver's workshed was a corrugated metal palace, containing his tree truck on one side, and a small apartment on the other side. The small apartment had a double bed, a television set, a bathroom with shower, and a microwave. One window.

            'Wow, this is wonderful," said Peebles, examining the boot jack and the artistic photographs of every kind of tree. 

            "Shoes off," commanded Oliver. They performed vigorous sex on the double bed, on top of a red, gold, and yellow crazy quilt. Their toes touched.

            "You decorated with fall colors," said Peebles. "My favorite. Did your wife make this quilt?"

            "No. My grandmother."

            "Where is your wife, anyway?"

            Oliver closed his eyes and smiled. "She's at the Popcorn Palace seeing Ammonite with her girlfriends. The kids are with her parents. So it's 'aaah' time for the grownups. We both like to relax on the weekends."

            Peebles stayed silent for several minutes, staring at a close-up photograph of a cardinal. "Ammonite? Isn't that another Francis Lee film?"

            "That's right," said Oliver. "Lesbian sex. My wife, Celedine, swings both ways. And so do I."

            Peebles felt his mind and his body melt with the possibilities of it all. He existed in a large guest bedroom upstairs at his mother's house. Marge had her nose into everything. She even inspected his magazines and his computer. Living with her was a good way to save money; but no way to enjoy life.

                                                            *****

            After a few Saturdays together, Peebles said, "Why don't you leave your wife?'

            Oliver laughed. "No way. I love Celedine a lot. And we have two funny children together. We give each other freedom. Also - our marriage forms a barrier that gets us past the authorities and the whackos."

            Peebles considered this. "My mother is a real capitalist and a control freak. Sometimes I think she ruins my life, telling me what to do all the time. How to behave."

            "Are you sure about that?" said Oliver. "She's giving you a pretty good place to live. Have you tried being honest with her?"

            "You mean about being gay?"

            "No. Mothers know those things. I mean about being obsessed with trees instead of people. I've seen how you prune trees like they're works of art. Admire their shapes like you're gonna have sex with them."

            "Ha!" Peebles envisioned his mother's weed-free garden, with its swimming pool lanes of strawberries, lettuce, and carrots. "Mom is in love with plants, too. And trees."

            "So you're a lot alike."

            Peebles eyes opened wide, but he admitted nothing.

            "I'd like to meet your mother," said Oliver. "Take me to your house."

                                                            *****

            The next weekend they met at Peebles and Marge Jackson's house on the pretext of pruning their pecan tree.

            "What are you doing here? said Marge, meeting the men in the side yard. "That tree doesn't need pruning."

            "It might," said Oliver. "See how those branches are touching the garage roof?"

            "Leave my tree alone," said Marge. "And watch your big feet. There's pecans all over the ground. You're crunching 'em." She went into the garage to retrieve three bushel baskets and handed one each to Oliver and Peebles. "Start gathering pecans." Marge took a basket herself and began shoveling up pecans with both hands. "Come on!"

            Oliver found himself gathering pecans like a harvesting machine. Marge's commands were difficult to resist. Marge looked just like Peebles (dark skin, frizzy hair) but she was louder and harsher.

            Peebles, Oliver, and Marge combed the yard for pecans. After about thirty minutes, Marge stood up. "Time to make a pie. You boys can come inside if you like."

            Marge's house was large and old-fashioned with the bedrooms on the second floor and easy chairs in the living room, When Oliver used the bathroom, he discovered pink tiles and a white clawfoot tub. The only modern thing about this house was the new wall unit air conditioners. 

            After examining the living room and TV room, he wandered back into the kitchen where Peebles was picking the shells out of pecans, or the pecans out of the shells, and Marge was rolling a pie crust.

            "Does this place have a basement?" 

            "No," snapped Marge.         

            "What about a guest bedroom over the garage?"

            "Been meaning to build one of those," said Marge.

            'Peebles and I should build you an entire apartment up there," said Oliver, "So Peebles, here, can enjoy some privacy."

            Marge pressed the crust dough into the pie pan and glared at Oliver, arms akimbo. "You're mighty pushy with your projects," she said. "And this ain't even your house. What if I don't want a guest apartment?"

            "I think Peebles, here, might like it."

            Oliver headed for the door and Peebles followed.

            In the kitchen, in the presence of his mother, Peebles had contributed nothing to the conversation, but in the garage, he was demanding. "I want red marble countertops and a two-person shower."

            "I can arrange that," said Oliver. He pulled Peebles toward him and kissed him on the lips.

                                                            *****

            The pecan pie turned out to be delicious. They ate slices of it with Marge and discussed plans for Peebles' apartment over the garage. "Who's gonna pay for all this?" said Marge.

            Peebles raised his hand. "I've got plenty of money saved up. Why not use it for home improvements?"

            Marge raised her eyebrows. "I guess. The house is in both our names. When Bobbert comes to visit, she can use your old bedroom."

            "Fine with me," said Peebles. "Because I'll have a whole big apartment with closet and kitchen."

            "Who's Bobbert?" said Oliver.

            "Auntie Bobbert," said Peebles. "She's Mother's special friend."

            "Bobbert's into taxidermy," Marge explained. "Birds and squirrels." She pointed to a stuffed bobolink on top of the refrigerator.

            "So gross," said Oliver, shuddering.

            Peebles and Marge looked at each other and laughed.

            "Bobbert is pretty disgusting," said Marge, "but we understand each other. We went to school together. Both wanted to become forest rangers. Would have been good at it, too."

            Marge looked down at the table. Sad. She reached out her arms to the two guys. and they formed a hand-held circle of understanding.