Sing for Their Supper - 34

 

Sam smiled, even though he knew Ricky probably couldn't see it. "True. I never had a craving to be on stage. I like my music, but it's just something I can do that I'm good at."

 

"What do you want to do? What would you do, if you had the chance?"

 

"Be a teacher."

 

"Really?"

 

"Uh-huh," Sam replied. "Young kids, grade school kids. Try to get to them before they learn to hate, and teach them we're all equals, given the chance."

 

"Hard to do if their parents have already indoctrinated them," Ricky replied sourly.

 

"I know. But it would be worth it if I could get them to at least open their minds to the possibility—to all the possibilities, I guess. That they can be anything they want, if they want it enough to fight for it."

 

Ricky took his hand to stop Sam from moving on. "You're an idealist. I never would have thought that."

 

"Why?"

 

"Maybe because I've become a cynic after spending so much time trying to survive, and I figure anyone else who lives the way we have to must be one, too."

 

"You do not come across that way."

 

Ricky laughed softly. "I hide it well. It makes life easier, as much as that's possible."

 

Sam laced his fingers with Ricky's. "Maybe that will change, now that we're with good people who care."

 

"Maybe. I'm not betting on it, but maybe. We'll see."

 

"Yeah. We will." Sam started to yawn and tried to hide it.

 

Apparently it didn't work, because Ricky chuckled. "Should we turn around and go back before you fall asleep?"

 

"It would probably be a good idea," Sam agreed.

 

They walked back, holding hands. Sam thought it wasn't personal, at least as far as Ricky was concerned. Not really. It was more from his need to have a friend who cared—and Sam did, he realized. We all need that. All of us here. Hell, everyone does, don't they? But sometimes, it doesn't happen. I suppose we're the lucky ones. We met Tuck and Brent—men who do care, despite what we are and how we've lived.

 

When they got back to the cabin, Ricky suddenly, surprisingly, hugged Sam.

 

"What was that for?"

 

"For listening. For not making me feel stupid because I opened up to you. For…for being a friend."

 

"That I am," Sam replied softly, hugging him back. "Now, let's get to bed." He quickly amended that when Ricky laughed. "In our own beds, in our own rooms."

 

Ricky grinned. "You did it again."

 

"I think I'm going to have to watch what I say around you."

 

"Please don't. It's fun—and funny. It makes me laugh." He gazed at Sam for a moment. "Really laugh, if you know what I'm saying."

 

"I do." Sam gave him another, quick, hug. "Let's get some sleep. If we don't, we'll be useless tomorrow."

 

"And we wouldn't want that," Ricky replied. "I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well."

 

"You, too," Sam said, as they went inside.