Oaks at 21

By R. Cane

Short Story: Oaks at 21. Americana, but queer. 1850s, upstate NY. An atypical farm with a shady side business. A young woman struggling to find her way, understand her heritage, life, as well as her wants, needs. Rough times, tough people, a desire to belong - mix in forbidden love, discovery, adventure, crushes – and you have Oaks at 21. (Note: Some violence, associated with the times.)

Sample from Oaks at 21:

I am in my dark room, leaning back in the wooden chair, feet up on the bed, wondering what on earth I am still doing here, when there is a soft knock on the door. I wait for a second knock to be sure it’s what I heard, walk my bare feet over, open it a hair. A long dark form slips through. I recognize Hana’s scent as she leans close, whispers in my ear, “need help.” She is still learning English, often shortens things to the primary words, but I usually know what she means.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. Cane
• Release date: Oct 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463681183

R. Cane

Finding the human condition and our antics endlessly fascinating, I tend to write ‘slice of life’ pieces about moments, situations, interactions, personalities – most often with some amount of humor or irony, always with wonder. The subject or subjects are frequently lgbtq, w/w, to the degree it matters, since people are people, stories are stories.

Book preview

Oaks at 21

by R. Cane

Published by R. Cane

Copyright 2019 R. Cane, including art, images

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Oaks at 21

Oaks at 21

I am in my dark room, leaning back in the wooden chair, feet up on the bed, wondering what on earth I am still doing here, when there is a soft knock on the door. I wait for a second knock to be sure it’s what I heard, walk my bare feet over, open it a hair. A long dark form slips through. I recognize Hana’s scent as she leans close, whispers in my ear, need help. She is still learning English, often shortens things to the primary words, but I usually know what she means.

She is maybe 21, one of the more beautiful girls, though they all are. Also the boss’s favorite. For at least these reasons, this girl is risky business. What kind of help?

Much no like him. Her voice is urgent, upset. When I do not move or reply she says these next words slowly, carefully, he - is - rough. Knowing I am unlikely to say no after that piece of information, she wraps her cool fingers around mine. Truth is I was about to decline until she touched me. Instead, I follow even though I have no idea what this is, when she makes for the door still holding my hand, letting it go only as we sneak out into the hall.

I follow so close we look like one shadow in the low light. At her door