Something Solid (chapter)

The creek behind Ted’s property ran quiet that afternoon, low from a dry spell but steady all the same. Tyler crouched at the bank, skipping rocks like he used to as a kid, boots half-dusty, half-muddied. The air smelled of pine and old leaves, warm with a hint of coming fall.

Clyde sat nearby on a flat boulder, arms resting on his knees, watching the ripples Tyler’s throws left behind.

Neither had said much for a while.

Ted had invited them both out—“just a fire and some quiet,” he’d said—but he’d ducked inside to check on supper and left the two of them alone not long after. Maybe on purpose.

Tyler stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Don’t know why, but this place always slows my brain down.”

Clyde gave a small grunt of agreement. “Somethin’ about water and woods. Strips the noise off.”

Tyler looked over at him. “You ever think maybe God designed it that way? Like… made these places to help us remember what matters?”

Clyde shifted, his gaze on the water. “Reckon He did. World’s loud. We make it louder.” A pause. “Truth don’t shout much.”

Tyler chuckled, quiet. “Nah. It doesn’t.”

He walked over and sat down next to Clyde on the rock. Their shoulders didn’t touch, but they didn’t need to. The closeness wasn’t forced—it just was.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” Tyler said after a minute, “about what you said last week. About prayin’ honest.”

Clyde didn’t look over, but his brow lifted slightly.

Tyler kept going. “I started tryin’. Not just talkin’ to God, but tellin’ Him stuff I’d never even admitted to myself.” He let out a breath. “Thought He might be mad. But it’s weird… it’s like He already knew. Like He was waitin’ on me to say it just so I could hear it too.”

Clyde nodded slow. “He’s good like that.”

Tyler glanced down at the water. “That book you gave me… it didn’t fix me.” He paused. “But it started somethin’.”

Clyde nodded, voice quiet. “That’s all I hoped for.”

They sat quiet again, a hawk crying faint somewhere overhead.

“I don’t really know what this is,” Tyler said, glancing at Clyde. “Us. This… whatever we’re buildin’. But I know it ain’t shallow.”

Clyde’s jaw worked a bit, like he was chewing on the words. Then he said, “Don’t gotta name it to know it’s real.”

Tyler nodded. “I don’t feel like I gotta prove anything around you. That’s new.”

Clyde’s voice was low, steady. “I don’t feel like I gotta hide.”

The words landed like a stone sinking slow into deep water.

Tyler looked away, blinked a few times. “I used to think I needed somebody to complete me. Like there was this hole that only another guy could fill. And I chased that. Thought it was love. But now…” He trailed off, shook his head. “Reckon I just needed a brother who’d stay.”

Clyde glanced at him then—just a flicker—and the corner of his mouth tugged up slightly.

“Sounds about right.”

They sat there, side by side, while the sun shifted through the trees and the creek rolled on.

Ted’s screen door creaked open behind them. “Food’s up,” he called.

Clyde stood, offered Tyler a hand. Tyler took it without hesitation, letting Clyde pull him up. Their grip lingered a beat—firm, steady.

“Come on,” Clyde said. “Let’s eat.”They walked toward the cabin—not side by side, but close enough.
More than nothing.
Solid enough to hold.

(Chapter from Solid Enough To Hold in the Tyler and Clyde series. Contact me if you’d like to read the full story.)