Mason watched as Cole and Olivia walked towards their car. He could see the parking lot from the windows in the classroom. He gazed longingly at Cole as he bent over and buckled Olivia into the back seat.  

As he’d walked out of the classroom earlier and seen Cole standing in the hallway, looking at Olivia’s picture, he’d felt the visceral instant attraction throughout his entire body. Unable to help the feeling, he forced himself to focus on the parent/teacher interview because propriety dictated he did. He knew there were lines one simply didn’t cross, and he respected them. He loved his job and he adored the kids. He also knew he was putting that instant attraction to the back of his mind, but he was confident enough in himself to explore it further when he was away from work. After all, he’d been looking for a new book for the fast-approaching spring equinox. Ready to begin exploring the next steps of his enlightenment he was delving into the connection between the seasons and the stages of life. The spring celebration on May 1st, or Beltane as he called it, was only a couple of weeks away. For witches, wiccans, pagans, warlocks, druids, and all the other labels applied to practices like his, Beltane was a holiday associated with fertility.  

Mason had become a teacher because he loved kids. Their youth and innocence was something to be cherished and he loved teaching them. Their young minds were so susceptible to the many wonders of the world, and he thought that by having nature walks and teaching through interaction with their environment, it might better connect them to the world. He’d certainly faced a fair amount of ridicule for being a male first grade teacher, but he never had and never would conduct himself in such a way as to jeopardize that.

Mason retrieved his laptop case with his car keys and wallet, then switched off the lights in the classroom. As he was walking down the hall, he waved to the janitor, Marissa Mauer, an elderly woman who’d taken the job because she was bored at home all alone and wanted to get out and keep moving. The school was relatively small, so she made short work of sweeping out the classrooms and cleaning the bathrooms every night. She worked her butt off in the summer, deep cleaning all the nooks and crannies that collected dust all year. Mason respected the fact that she refused to be housebound sitting in her living room wasting away, missing her husband so much she was incapable of functioning. She loved the kids as much as Mason did, and he respected her unique way of showing it. Marissa mopped the sweat from her brow and tucked the handkerchief in her back pocket as she did another round of the classroom with the broom. Her gray hair bounced in tight curls under the fluorescent light, and Mason smiled as he walked by.

When he got to his car, he sat and offered a silent prayer to the Gods for another great day with the kids. He never practiced inside the school. The odds were already stacked against him because he was gay, it wouldn’t do him any good if word got out that he was also a practicing pagan. He preferred not to label himself, but if he had to put a name to what his theological practice was, it would be to call himself an eclectic witch. He took ideas from several pagan practices and used them in the best way that suited his beliefs. Not that his sexual or religious preferences were anyone else’s business, but he liked to be thankful for his blessings.

Mason started the car and drove through the streets to his house on the western edge of Central Pines and he couldn’t help thinking that the back of his property, which was bordered by woods, met Cole Armstrong’s property in the east. All he had to do was walk about a mile through the woods and he’d be there. He knew all this because of Olivia’s records, and he knew her father was a bookstore owner because the new bookstore opening had been the talk of the town. Mason usually drove the half hour to the city to buy books at the retail bookstore because he didn’t want to upset anyone with his alternative lifestyle, but he might just be tempted to go and check out the new store in town.  

Mason parked in the driveway, walked into his three story, New England-style home and called out to his familiar. “Zemi!”

He could hear the thump of his feet as they hit the floor above and then the soft pitter-patter as his good luck charm, that was the meaning of the name Zemi, appeared at the top of the stairs. His yellow eyes glowed in the darkness and Mason smiled up at him. “There you are. Did you find any mice for me up in the attic today?”

Zemi meowed loudly, and Mason was pretty sure he’d find a dead rodent in a slipper somewhere, or he might step on it in the middle of the night during a bathroom trip, whenever Zemi decided the time was right to gift him with his catch of the day.  

Mason shrugged off his coat. When the breeze picked up at dusk it was still chilly considering it was late April. He went to the fridge and warmed up some leftover tuna casserole, which he shared with Zemi, but only because the incessant rubbing against his legs for attention was driving him crazy. Mason finished eating and looked out the back window, over the kitchen sink. The sky was darkening but the lack of light didn’t bother him. He grabbed a flashlight, opting for modern technology because the wind had picked up. Candles were so cliché sometimes. If the wind kept blowing out the flame, how was he ever going to see what he was doing out in the woods? Mason figured the Gods wouldn’t mind if he brought a little of this century into his practices, just so long as his heart was genuine.  

After petting Zemi on the head, Mason headed out the backdoor and into the woods. He could hear the chirping birds settling down to the cadence of the cricket’s lullaby. Lightning bugs flickered all around him, causing the woods to seem less forlorn and more magical as he walked the half mile to the stone altar he’d erected. Mason couldn’t help his thoughts as they continued to return to Cole. His eyes were so brown, they reminded him of the deer here in the forest. Looking into Cole’s eyes was like looking into his soul. He saw the hurt and pain there, but he also saw something else. Those chocolate depths held a longing for something he couldn’t put a name to. At least, that’s what Mason was allowing himself to believe.  

Mason truly felt he had some sort of extra ability that allowed him to sense when someone of the same sex was attracted to him. He’d heard it called many things, the crudest being gaydar. But as with any heterosexual couple, when they first met, there was an instant attraction that was inexplicable. Like they just knew. Mason somehow just knew while staring into Cole’s eyes at the school, that there was an attraction. The question was whether or not Cole recognized it.

Mason made his way along the well-worn path, musing over the enigmatic man he’d met that evening. He only used the flashlight to take note of the occasional wayward root jutting up from a tree stump or to pause and let a critter scurry across the path. As he proceeded to walk deeper into the woods, the thicket became nearly impenetrable. Unable to see more than a few yards in front of him, Mason focused on the light filtering in through the trees up ahead.  

As he breached the tree line, he found his personal haven, his altar, bathed in moonlight. It wasn’t a full moon yet, that wasn’t until May 1^st, which was unusual as the first of the month and the full moon didn’t generally coincide, but it was going to be special this year, he could just feel the energy in the clearing as the thought passed through his mind.  

Mason paused in front of the stone slab. It was a mostly-natural formation that he had added to. He’d created a ring of stones around a larger stone, which had been deposited in the middle of the clearing sometime during the ice age. The weather had worn the large slab flat and smooth. Mason set his flashlight down beside the waist-high altar. He didn’t need the flashlight now that the moon was in the last quarter and throwing off enough light.

Mason stripped out of his clothes, preferring to meditate in his natural state. The cool breeze made his skin pucker and goosebumps broke out all over his body. He could feel the soft moss under his feet acting like a blanket, and carpeting the forest floor. Mason shivered, sat on the cool rock and lay down. It was cold and hard, but he could feel the energy thrum through it, feeding him, feeding his soul. His body didn’t recognize the difference between the vibrations of the elements and the vibrations from a different source, and maybe it was the attraction he felt earlier, but he was having a hard time focusing on his meditation and found his thoughts wandering back to Cole.  

He sent a silent prayer to the Gods and tried to focus, but he couldn’t help feeling there was a reason he was so intent on thinking about Cole. Was it because he was taboo? A widower with a child? Or was it because none of that really mattered, if the man felt an attraction to him in return? As he lay on the rock, lost to the fact that his body was shivering, he decided since tomorrow was Saturday, he was going to pay the bookstore a visit and explore this inexplicable draw he had to Cole Armstrong. Upon deciding, Mason firmly commanded his mind to put the subject to rest for the time being so he was able to focus on his meditation. He thought about all the things he was grateful for and all the reasons he was blessed.

Mason decided if there was anyone he should be asking for answers about his newfound infatuation, it was the very Gods he was praying to. He closed his eyes against the stars and the sliver of the moon, and prayed for a sign. He heard a soft hoot and opened his eyes to see a large, tawny owl circling above his head. He smiled. His spirit animal was an owl. Not because he thought himself particularly wise, but because he had such a passion for sharing what wisdom he had for life and learning with his students.

Mason rose from the stone slab and scooped up his clothes, balling them under his arm. The owl dove at the far end of the clearing, catching a field mouse, and Mason couldn’t help but think his sign had been sent. The circle of life was a powerful sign and the Gods had sent him a symbol of what that power meant to him.

Mason made his way barefoot back through the woods. The path was so worn and blanketed in pine needles, he didn’t have any issues as he walked. It was freeing to be so gloriously naked, like the threads of his clothing were restrictive and he couldn’t connect with the energy of the earth when he was fully clothed. He met Zemi on the back steps and scooped him up under his other arm, taking him with him as he entered the house. He plunked the meowing cat on the island in the kitchen and made his way upstairs. He didn’t care if Zemi was on the kitchen counter, that’s what Lysol wipes were for, and it was every bit as much his house as it was Mason’s.

Mason turned on the shower, stepped into the spray, and warmed himself under the hot water. Steam filled the bathroom fogging the mirror. He got out of the shower and traced a small symbol in the condensation on the mirror in thanks, then watched as it faded from the glass.  

Mason dried off, sauntered into his bedroom, and switched on the TV. He sat up for three hours watching documentaries before he began dozing off, but his dreams were strange and vivid. A small hand was being held up to him. A swollen belly. His skin tingled. Flesh on flesh. Yellow eyes. Symbols swirling on the backs of his palms. Climbing. Higher. Higher. Higher and then…

Mason awoke with a start and sat upright in bed. His skin felt hot and tight, and his body couldn’t decide if it was aroused or ill. His head swam and he couldn’t shake off the remnants of the dream. What did it mean? He jumped when he saw yellow eyes peering at him from the darkness of the closet.

“Zemi!” the cat meowed and bounded from the deep shadows, landing on the bed. The silver charm on his collar twinkled in the bright light of the TV. It was fuzzy, black and white static playing across the screen and it hurt his eyes. “Phew, that dream was weird huh, boy?”

Zemi rubbed his head against Mason’s chin and purred in response. He tried to lay back down and go back to sleep but his dick was still hard from the dream. It had been vaguely erotic and now he was just uncomfortable. While he waited for his problem to subside, he decided to research the symbol he’d seen. He reached over, grabbed the remote, and turned the TV off while he flipped open the book of symbols he kept in the nightstand drawer. It was one of many he had in the house stashed away in various places so if he thought of something or wanted to look something up, he would have a book readily at hand.

Mason flipped through page after page searching until he came to the symbol for the spiral goddess. It was phallic in shape, which made Mason squirm under the covers as it represented his current state of arousal perfectly. He traced the lines with his fingers, from the tip to the base where the lines spiraled in on one another. He knew what the symbol meant, but he didn’t know how all the pieces of the dream fit together. There was going to be a baby or a child? That much he could discern easily, but he was confused about how Zemi played into it, and the run through the woods he’d been doing in his dream.

Mason closed the book and lay back against the pillows. His cock ached and he moved his hand under the sheets, wrapping his palm around the base of it. It felt so good. He began to stroke up and down, and eventually his skin felt so tight and hot, he kicked off the sheets and grabbed the tissues from the nightstand. He tried hard not to let Cole Armstrong’s face swim into his mind’s eye, but just as he was about to come, there he was, with his huge brown eyes and a sexy look on his face like he was slightly surprised by everything. Mason hadn’t seen such a look of innocence or vulnerability in a long time, especially on a man. By the Gods it was hot. He felt bad, for all of two seconds, until his fingers touched the sensitive tip of his dick and then he completely forgot how to think or breathe as he started to come. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had to grab the tissues but as his orgasm blasted through him, his limbs went numb.

Mason slowly came back to reality, letting himself slump to the side and rest his head on his pillows. He tried to keep his eyes open but soon found he was fighting a losing battle. The last thing he remembered was thinking tomorrow was Saturday and how he couldn’t wait to go to the bookstore.