Chapter 4

The Rook Farm covers over nine hundred acres, most of which is corn. Rolling hills of the plants surround the six-bedroom farmhouse with its expansive porches. A red and white barn sits approximately five hundred yards away from the farmhouse. The barn is accessorized with International Harvester tractors, a heaven-bound silo, and various animals that are considered pets.

Rook’s tour takes over an hour, which I enjoy. He tells me stories regarding his childhood—fishing in the nearby pond, two hunting lessons in the surrounding woods, and his first kiss behind the barn at age seventeen with David Biggs. He tells me how Biggs was the first guy he fell in love with, and adds, “I really didn’t know what love was, of course. What boy does at age seventeen, right?”

“I think it’s possible. Love is mysterious that way.”

He shakes his head while we step around the barn, holding hands. “Love doesn’t exist.”

“You really think that?”

“I do. Love is only a figment of one’s imagination.”