It Takes All Kinds

Monumental Daze

Author's Note: The Badlands National Park: www.nps.gov/badl/

Mount Rushmore National Memorial: www.nps.gov/moru/

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Vacation Diary of Gus the Great

Tuesday, November 17, 2009-Day 4

Boy, am I happy to be out of Chicago. Dad and Pops fought a lot their. Dad staid out really, really late with that jerk Tad and Pops was mad that he didn't make it for pizza.

Dad was in a crummy mood at the corn palase palace and Pops and me laughed at him a lot. I took his photo with a bufalo picture and I can't wait to show Uncle Mikey. Dad thought the whole thing was dum.

We stopped at wall drug and Dad bought me a cowboy hat. Insted of being a race car driver, I think I'm going to be a cowboy, escept I don't know how to ride a horse. Maybe I'll ask Dad for one for Christmas.

After that, we ate dinner and came to the hotel. Pops and me went to a playground while Dad took a nap. He's in a better mood now.

Tomorrow we are going to bad lands and a mountain with some old guys on it. We're getting up early so we can see the sun rise at the bad lands. Pops thinks it will be educasional for me. I want to get some good pictures for my project.

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His daily entry finished, Gus closed his notebook and put it back into his backpack. The laptop computer, set up next to his bed, was busy downloading the hundred or so pictures he'd taken in the last two days. When the program pinged, signifying that the download was complete, Gus backed up the photos on a CD. He wanted to make sure he had extra copies in case his dad went through the ones on the computer and deleted those that made him look not so cool.

"Gus, it's time for bed, buddy," Pops softly announced from the doorway. "You need to turn off the computer and go to sleep."

"Okay, Pops." Gus quickly logged off and switched the laptop off. As he slid it into its carry bag, he felt a twinge of pain on his right side. Peeking over at his Pops, he decided not to say anything.

The playground where he and Pops had gone to earlier had a really cool spiral slide, with a center pole supporting it. Gus had gone down it several times before he came up with the idea of sliding down the pole instead. He had cautiously watched his Pops as he climbed up, but the man was engrossed in his sketchbook, and never looked up. The first time had been a blast, so he had quickly climbed up the ladder again. However, his luck didn't hold this time around. Right as he was reaching out for the pole, Pops had noticed what he was doing, and called out a warning. The next thing he knew, his hand slipped off the pole and he went crashing to the ground.

And man, oh man, was Pops upset with him.

Once he had assured himself that Gus wasn't hurt, Pops had started lecturing. And lecturing. And lecturing some more. During the whole discussion, he never once raised his voice, but just emphasized how disappointed he was in Gus, risking himself like that. Gus would have preferred to have him yelling, because he could tune that out, like he did when his dad was angry at him. Instead, he squirmed at every word, hating the fact that he had let his Pops down. The worst part was when Pops reached over and hugged him tightly, whispering that he never wanted Gus to get hurt, so he needed to be careful.

Geeze, parents were sure good at making a kid feel bad.

Gus pulled back the blankets on his bed and climbed in, ignoring the sharp jab of pain. He smiled as Pops tucked him in and gently kissed his forehead. "Night, Pops. I love you."

"Good night, Gus. Sweet dreams, and I love you too."

Gus snuggled down into his pillow and closed his eyes. Tomorrow should be fun - he couldn't wait to see an actual buffalo. He only hoped his side didn't hurt too much in the morning.

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Morning came a lot earlier than Gus would have liked. Before he knew it, they were checked out of the hotel and sitting in the SUV on their way to the Badlands National Park. He glanced out the window and decided to try to sleep a bit more, since he couldn't see anything in the dark anyway.

He fluffed up his pillow and leaned his head against the door, idly listening to his dads as they bickered gently back and forth. His dad was complaining about their early start, saying that Pops was crazy to want to paint the sunrise when there was a perfectly good bed back at the hotel. Pops just laughed and said that Dad owed him, since he let him work while they had been in Chicago. His dad snorted that Pops better get a good commission on this painting to make it worth their while.

Gus chuckled at that. Half the time, once his Pops had a piece of artwork completed, his dad wouldn't allow it to be sold. That was why their loft, as well as Kinnetik, was filled with Pop's work. His dad would say that he was a connoisseur of art, and only collected the best. Pops would just roll his eyes and head back into his studio.

Gus drowsed as they sped along, allowing his dads' voices to lull him into a half-sleep state. He felt better this morning, the sharp pain dulled to a lingering ache. He was glad he hadn't said anything to his Pops last night - no need to worry him over a little injury.

The sign announcing the turnoff for the Badlands reflected back at them in the glare of the headlights. Brian flipped on the turn signal and eased off the highway onto the main road leading to the park. The SUV slowed, and Gus vaguely heard his dads discussing some sort of pass. He opened his eyes slightly and noticed they were stopped at a booth, where a uniformed man was handing his dad a form to fill out. Forcing himself awake, Gus leaned forward and asked, "What's up?"

"We're just paying the fees, Gus. Here, do you want to look at the map?" Pops turned slightly in his seat, offering a pamphlet to him.

"Sure, why not?" Gus took the pamphlet and sat back in his seat. He reached up and flipped on the light above his head then began reading. After a few minutes he asked, "Hey Dad. Do you think we can go see the prairie dog town? That sounds kinda neat."

His dad nodded as he replaced his credit card in his wallet. "I don't see why not, sonny boy. We'll head over there after your Pops finishes yet another Justin Taylor original." He put the SUV in gear and drove to the overlook that the park ranger had recommended to them.

They quickly climbed out after his dad parked the car, stretching the kinks out of their backs as they moved around a bit. Justin walked around to the back and opened the rear door before calling out, "Hey guys, can you give me a hand?"

Gus took the blank canvas his Pops handed him then stepped back, allowing his dad to grab the portable easel and a small collapsible stool from the storage area. Pops had what his dad affectionately called his 'gone fishing' box in his hand. Gus thought that was funny, since it did look like the tackle box his Grandpa Peterson used when he took Gus fishing once.

The trio walked over to the railing and looked around. They couldn't see much in the pre-dawn light and Gus wondered how Pops was going to be able to paint. His dad set up the easel and stool then took the canvas from Gus and set it on the ledge of the easel. He glanced over at Pops and said, "Well, I guess we'll leave you to it, then. Have fun." He leaned over, giving Pops a swift kiss then turned to Gus. "Let's go, sonny boy."

The sky lightened as they walked, Gus a few steps ahead of his dad, making it easier to pay attention their footing. Gus looked around curiously, thinking that the scenery here was definitely a lot different than what he was used to back in Pennsylvania. It was strange - to his right, the prairie stretched for miles, a seemingly endless carpet of grass. To his left and directly in front, however, the land was broken up. It reminded him of his sandbox, when he would make small mounds of dirt everywhere then take his toy trucks and cars and drive them over the miniature hills and through the tiny valleys.

"Here, Gus. Let's sit on that rock over there and watch the sun come up." His dad gestured toward a large flat rock, perched somewhat precariously near the edge of a drop-off. Gus nodded then began scrambling up, his foot slipping on the loose gravel. "Careful there, sonny boy. I don't want to have to explain to Justin why I lost you down the side of a hill." Brian came up behind his son and lifted him the last few feet.

Gus plopped down in a heap, glancing over at his dad as he arranged himself a smidgen more gracefully than his son on the rock. He waved his hand toward the view and said, "Not much to see, is there? Wonder why Pops was so excited to come here?"

His dad smirked at him as he checked the time. "Give it a few more minutes, Gus. You'll see what drew Justin to this place." They sat quietly together, the sound of the wind whipping through the prairie grass behind them slightly spooking Gus, who scooted closer to his father. Brian looked down at his son, an amused expression on his face then wrapped his arm around his son's small body, pulling him flush against his side.

The sun gradually peeped over the horizon, casting its light over the landscape. The terrain in front of them slowly changed from a gray, tortured-looking environment to one vibrant with colors. The layers in the carved-out mounds displayed brilliant reds, purples and yellows, pulsing with a mysterious life of their own.

"Wow, Dad - that's… that's incredible!" Gus couldn't really express what he was feeling in words. He had never seen anything like what he was looking at before. It was as though he wasn't on Earth any more, instead, they'd somehow landed on a different planet altogether. He turned his face up to his dad, his eyes wide with amazement.

Brian tightened his embrace, wordlessly sharing the feeling of awe with his son. He'd seen pictures of the park before, but they truthfully hadn't done the place justice. No wonder Justin was so taken with the idea of painting the sunrise here. The colors found in the terrain would definitely appeal to the artist in his lover. His eyes wandered in the direction of the overlook, where he could see Justin moving about, trying to capture the sight in front of him.

Gus noticed the direction that his dad was looking, and decided to bring up a topic that he had been thinking about recently - since Chicago, in fact. He knew his dads were happy together, but his dad rarely expressed his feelings for his Pops in public. He bumped his dad's shoulder lightly with his own, asking, "Do you really love him, Dad?"

His dad rolled his lips inward for a second, then glanced down, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "Where'd that come from?"

Shrugging his shoulders in answer, Gus moved so he could see his dad's face more clearly. "I don't know, really. Maybe it's because most of my friends' parents are split up. I just don't want anything to happen between you and Pops."

"Nothing's going to go wrong between Justin and me, Gus."

"Yeah, so you say, but how do you know? I mean… you see other guys - so, how do you know you won't like someone else better?" Gus studied the toes of his boots, uncomfortable now the subject had been broached.

Brian snorted. "I just know, Gus. You have no idea what it took for Justin to worm his way into my affections. Nobody else is ever going to get that chance, okay?" Laying a hand on his son's shoulder, he gave a comforting squeeze then let go. He lit a cigarette and drew deeply, enjoying the burn of the smoke in his lungs.

"Those will kill you, you know." Gus commented, waving a hand in front of his face.

His dad smirked at him and took another puff. The silence between them was relaxed as the world around them came to life. Several chipmunks and rabbits scurried past, intent on their own business and ignoring the two quiet figures on the rock.

"You never answered my question, Dad."

"You know the answer, Gus."

"Yeah, but you never say it." Gus pressed his dad.

Brian jumped to his feet, grinding out his cigarette with his heel and said, "Time to go, sonny boy." He brushed the dust off his jeans then leaned down and pulled Gus up to stand beside him. His son's face was scrunched up, clearly unhappy with the results of his questioning. Ruffling his hair tenderly, Brian relented. "Of course I love him, Gus. You and Justin are the most important people in my life."

Gus shot his dad a brilliant smile. "I love you, Dad."

"Back at you, brat. Now, let's go see what your Pops is up to, shall we?" Brian clambered off from the rock then grasped Gus around the waist and lifted him down. They began hiking back up the hill toward the overlook when suddenly, Brian grabbed Gus' arm, jerking him to a stop. Something rustled ahead of them, and a small, triangle shaped head thrust its way out of the tall grass.

The snake, light brown in color with darker shadings along its sides, edged its body across the path then hesitated as it became aware of the humans. All three creatures remained frozen for what felt like an eternity to Brian, until the snake, as though sensing the others weren't a danger, continued across the path. With just a slight flick of its rattle, it slid gracefully into the growth on the other side.

Finally remembering to breath, Brian huffed and snarled, "Fucking wildlife." He nudged Gus' arm, smiling reassuringly as he asked, "You alright?"

Gus gazed up at his dad, the panic in his eyes receding somewhat as he met his dad's calm look. "Sure, Dad, but let's hurry up a bit, okay?" Once his dad nodded, Gus began scurrying up the trail, his dad right on his heels. "Race you!" They both began trotting, with Brian reaching out to tickle Gus occasionally in an attempt to distract him.

Justin heard familiar laughter to his right and turned his head to see his favorite guys racing up the path. He chuckled when he spotted Brian trying to pass Gus, but the boy blocked the effort by stepping in front of him. As they reached the trailhead, Brian scooped up Gus in his arms and spun him around, both of them laughing.

Gus ran up to his Pops, panting as he tried to catch his breath. "You won't believe what we saw, Pops! A real, live rattlesnake!"

"A snake, huh? Cool." Justin smiled at his son before glancing over at Brian, eyebrows raised in question.

"Yeah, but he wasn't interested in a Gus snack today." Brian moved around the easel to get a look at the canvas. "Not bad, Justin. Not bad at all." The painting, done in watercolors, was impressionistic in nature, rather than a faithful rendition of the scene, but Justin had caught the fire and beauty of the land. "Another masterpiece. I can see this one hanging in our…"

Gus and Justin shared a knowing look, then Justin grinned. "Geeze, Brian. Am I ever going to be allowed to sell another painting in this lifetime?"

"Only the ones I don't want, Sunshine." Brian crossed his arms over his chest as he studied the painting again. "And I definitely want this one." He turned to his partner and son and smirked. "Anyone got a problem with that?"

Justin rolled his eyes at Gus and started to clean up his paintbrushes. Brian carefully wrapped the canvas before carrying it over to the SUV. Gus followed behind him with the easel, handing it to his dad after the painting had been stored. Once Justin's supplies had been put away, the three of them climbed into the vehicle.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the parking area for the prairie dog town. Gus bounded out of the car when he spotted the tiny heads poking out of the ground. "Oh my gosh, this is sooo cool!" He dropped his backpack on the ground and kneeled next to it, taking out a small bag of potato chips and his camera. After he opened the package, he tossed several chips way out in front of him, then picked up the camera and waited with bated breath.

His patience was rewarded when one of the prairie dogs warily sidled near a chip and picked it up, carefully turning it over and over in its paws. Gus snapped off several shots, then tried to creep closer to the small animal, edging his knees forward one at a time.

"Gus, no," his dad's voice warned him.

"But Dad, he looks tame. Maybe I can pet him, if I can get closer to him," said Gus in a slightly whiney tone.

His dad replied, "By all means, be my guest. Just don't come complaining to me when you figure out that he's a wild animal - after he bites the shit out of your hand, of course."

Gus glared at his dad over his shoulder then sighed. His dad was right - again. He got to his feet and shuffled over to his dads dejectedly. "I just thought he was cute, that's all."

"Gus, look at his size compared to yours," his Pops gently said. "Now imagine if something one hundred feet tall started crawling at you, trying to touch you. What would happen?"

The prairie dog was sitting on its haunches, head snapping around as it searched for any threat to it. Gus studied him for a second then softly confessed, "I'd be scared to death. I guess he would be too, if I got near him, huh?"

"Uh huh, plus you shouldn't get a wild animal used to taking food from humans. They become dependant on us, and that can cause problems." Justin cuffed Gus lightly on the arm then turned, pointing across the hood of the SUV toward a nearby herd of bison. Gus had somehow missed seeing them when they'd driven up. "They look harmless as well, but they can kill you with just a twist of their head. You need to respect wildlife, and leave them alone in their habitat."

Brian snorted. "Thank you for the lecture, Ranger Taylor." He then looked down at his son and added, "I might tease Justin about what he said, Gus, but he's right. The animals deserve to be left in peace, in their own world."

Gus nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly grinned. "So, how about feeding this wildlife, huh? I'm hungry."

"Typical - I imagine you're starving as well, Sunshine?" Brian rolled his eyes when Justin agreed and waved his hand at the vehicle. "Your food chariot waits, my good men." They all were laughing as they got back into the SUV and left the park.

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Rapid City, South Dakota was busy with lunchtime traffic by the time they reached town. After a stop at a fast food restaurant and a quick check of the map, they were off to Mount Rushmore. There wasn't much traffic on the road and they soon arrived at the visitor's center.

They walked through the building, coming out onto a wide plaza on the other side. There was a wide galley of flagpoles, with the flags of the fifty states fluttering in the brisk wind. The carved mountainside was framed by the flags, gleaming brightly in the sunlight. Gus searched for Pennsylvania's flag, but couldn't remember exactly what it looked like. Finally, with a little help from his dads, he found it and cheered.

After a few quick pictures, they made their way over to the broad overlook and stood for a moment, awed by the sheer size of the monument. Brian glanced over at his partner and teased, "Don't get any grand ideas, Justin. You're not taking up carving any time soon."

Justin stuck his tongue out at Brian and turned back to look at the view. "It's amazing, isn't it? Funny, I can admire the work, but not have much respect for the man's politics."

Gus and Brian looked at each other and shrugged. "What do you mean, Pops?" Gus asked hesitantly, not sure if he wanted his Pops to get into art history lecturing mode.

Smiling faintly, as if he knew what his son was thinking, Justin replied, "The artist, Gutzon Borglum, started a large carving before he did this one, back in the twenties, at Stone Mountain, Georgia. He was actively involved with the Klu Klux Klan while he was there."

"Klu Klux Klan? What's that?"

Brian paused as he searched for the right words to explain to his son. "It's a group of white people who feel they're superior to others. They don't like black people, people of Jewish descent - a lot of different groups, including gays."

Gus frowned at his dad's answer. "But that would mean they would hate you and Pops, as well as Uncle Mikey and Uncle Ben, Auntie Em, Uncle Ted and Uncle Vic. Mom and mama, too - right?"

His dad smiled, a slightly bitter tinge to his expression. "A lot of people hate us, Gus. It's not right, but it's the way of the world." He gently brushed a lock of blond hair off Justin's forehead, exposing the pale scar near his temple. "Hatred exacts a terrible price, usually from those who deserve it the least."

"Brian," Justin whispered softly as he moved closer to his partner.

Gus watched wide-eyed as his dad and Pops stared at each other, Pops softly running a finger across his dad's cheek. He remembered his dad's story about Pops' prom, and the way the evening had ended. They really had experienced hatred in the worst possible way. His Pops could have died that night - and he wouldn't have been here now for him and his dad. Suddenly, his eyes misted and he lunged at his Pops. "I love you, Pops," he choked out, his arms tightly wound about the man's waist.

Justin hugged him back, while Brian wrapped his long arms around them both. The three of them stood there, each of them lost in their own thoughts but enjoying the feeling of togetherness.

Finally, Brian moved back a step and stated, "Enough of this crap, okay?"

Gus looked up at his dad, startled by the harsh-seeming words, until he noticed his dad's hand subtly wiping at his eyes. Gus grinned then and asked teasingly, "You catching Pops' allergies, Dad?"

Brian growled at his son, stopping when Justin smacked him lightly across the chest. "Give it up, Brian. Your secret's out - you actually do have emotions."

Wrapping his hands around both of their necks, Brian threatened, "Fine, but nobody else better find out - otherwise, my reputation for being an asshole will be ruined." He slid his arms down, until one was around Justin's waist and the other was around Gus' shoulders. "Let's get out of here, alright?"

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The drive back to Rapid City took them through a small town called Hill City. Justin leaned forward in his seat, saying, "Something's going on up there, Brian. Looks like they have the road closed for some reason."

As they drew closer, they could see a fairly large crowd gathered in a rough circle, leaving a portion of the highway empty. Brian dropped Justin and Gus off and went in search of a parking spot. After he finally found one, he locked up the SUV then went to join his partner and son.

Rounding the corner, Brian frowned at the sight of the throngs of people. How in the world was he supposed to find Justin and Gus in this mess? Just then, the crowd parted slightly and he spotted Justin's blond head. He wove his way through the bystanders, until he was standing behind Gus near the front edge of the circle. "What's going on?"

"Seems like there's going to be some sort of street show." Justin motioned toward several costumed people standing near one side of the circle. As the words left his mouth, a loud screeching sounded - someone had turned on a microphone somewhere.

A tall man, dressed in black jeans and shirt, a canvas duster and a black cowboy hat stepped into the middle of the street and announced the beginning of the show. He then introduced a pretty young woman, who was clad in a red satin saloon-girl style dress and high, button-up boots. She took the microphone and led the crowd in singing the national anthem.

After the applause died down, the show started in earnest. Brian, Justin and Gus enjoyed the mock gunfight, clapping at the antics of the actors. Gus laughed when the emcee selected several women from the audience and had them place one of the 'dead' bad guys in a narrow, pine coffin. The ladies carried the coffin over to the side of the road, almost dropping it several times before they propped the box up so the 'corpse' could see the rest of the show.

The show ended with the good guys winning, of course, and the emcee, who had played the head bad guy, invited the crowd to join them at a nearby bar for a quick drink or three. As the crowd dispersed, Gus tugged on his dads' hands, wanting a picture with the actors. The emcee was happy to oblige and posed for several photos, pulling a couple of the other street performers into the picture as well. He then solemnly shook Gus' hand and gave Brian and Justin directions to a nearby saloon where they could get a good meal.

After a pleasant dinner, they decided to head to their hotel and get a decent night's sleep. As they walked back to the car, Justin and Brian discussed Justin's buffalo steak, which they thought wasn't much different than a regular steak that they could get back home.

"Dad, look!" Gus pointed excitedly at the trains that were parked across the street from where they were parked. They strolled over to get a closer look at the old locomotive and cars. There was a museum, which was closed, as well as a sign showing the costs for a train ride. Gus looked over at his dad and begged, "Can we come back tomorrow and take a ride? Please, Dad?"

Brian shook his head regretfully. "Sorry, sonny boy. We don't have time to do everything on this trip. Remember, we're supposed to be heading to Disney Land - you do want to get there, don't you?" He ruffled Gus' hair and laughed at the pouting look his son gave him. "Stop it, brat!"

Gus sighed. "Yeah, I'd rather go to Disney Land, I guess."

"Don't sound so excited, Gus. We don't have to go, you know," Justin teased lightly, chuckling when Gus blew him a raspberry.

Gus was almost asleep when they reached the hotel. His dad got out and went inside, while he and his Pops waited in the car. When his dad came back, they drove around the building and parked. Gus got out, stumbling sleepily in the dark to the room.

"Shower, teeth and bed, Gus." His Pops gently pushed him toward the bathroom. Gus quickly got ready for bed, and gratefully climbed into the warm cocoon of blankets. His eyes suddenly popped open when he realized he hadn't written in his vacation journal yet. He dragged his backpack up onto the bed and pulled out the notebook and a pen.

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Vacation Diary of Gus the Great

Wednesday, November 18, 2009-Day 5

Today was sooooo much fun. I saw rabbits, chipmonks, a snake, and bufalo in the bad lands. Pops painted a great picture, and Dad wants it as usual.

We stopped at Mont Rushmore - it was neat, but I like Pops' art better. He and dad told me about people who hate other people - I don't get it. Why can't everyone like each other?

After we left, we saw a cool gunfight and some old trains. Pops had bufalo stake, but I had chicken. Dad had a salad and snuck food off Pops plate to.

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Gus put away his stuff and stretched out on the bed, snuggling into the pillow. He hadn't said anything earlier, but his side still hurt and dinner wasn't sitting too well on his stomach. Deciding to tell his dad and Pops in the morning if he wasn't feeling better, he rolled over and nodded off.

The room was black when Gus woke up, nausea roiling in his stomach and his side throbbing painfully. He fumbled with the covers frantically, needing to get to the bathroom - now! The backpack was on the floor near the bed, tripping him in the dark and causing him to hit his elbow on the edge of the wall. He barely made it to the toilet before his dinner came back up, and he groaned miserably as his stomach heaved.

"Shit, Gus, what's wrong?" his dad exclaimed, flipping the light on in the small room.

Gus flinched at the sudden brightness, pressing his forehead against the rim of the bathtub. "I don't feel so good, Dad."

Brian yelled out through the open door, "Justin, do we have anything for an upset stomach?" They heard a vague mumbling from the other room, then several loud thuds as Justin searched through their luggage. Brian shut the toilet lid and helped his wobbly son to sit on it. He grabbed a washcloth from the rack, wetting it and wiping Gus' face and neck. "Justin, hurry the fuck up!"

"Damn it, Brian, give me a second, okay?" Justin appeared in the doorway, a bottle of pink fluid in his hand. "Here, give him some of this." Handing it to Brian, he went to the sink and prepared a glass of water for Gus.

Brian quickly read the label then poured out the correct dosage into the cup. "Here, drink it fast - it tastes pretty bad, but it will help you feel better."

Gus gulped down the medicine, grimacing at the taste. He took the glass of water from his Pops, sipping it to try to get the flavor out of his mouth. Looking up into his dads' worried faces, he smiled weakly and said, "I think it's helping."

Justin went back out into the main room, straightening out Gus' tangled sheets and blanket while Brian helped Gus make his shaky way back to the bed. Once there, Gus curled up in a ball, happy that his stomach seemed to be calming down. He felt the bed lower as his dad sat on the side, then sighed as gentle fingers wended their way through his hair. His eyes fluttered closed under the soothing motion and he fell back asleep.

It was still dark the next time the nausea and pain hit again. He didn't wake his dads, but crawled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. After several rounds of unproductive vomiting, Gus coiled his body around the toilet, grateful for the cool tile under his cheek. He finally dropped into a restless sleep.

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