DUMB AS ROCKS
by J.W.Smith
Part One
I stepped out of my shop
on the southeast corner of the
The unmerciful, hot, late
August sun scorched the browning Sycamores and cottonwoods surrounding the
bandstand. The grass beneath them had long ago given up trying to be green.
Even though the daily water sprinkler truck had wet it down just two hours
before, the street was dusty again.
In a more sensible world
it was siesta time. But in today's gringo world where we all strive for that
ultimate dollar, all the shops were open, the proprietors hidden away in their
cool dark depths, hoping for that one tourist that was crazy enough to brave
this heat and venture out to spend their money. There were no tourists out
today.
It only got this hot for
a week or two each year. Heat here in the mile high desert city of
As I stood there, leaning
hipshot against a post, my weight resting on one foot, my fingers tucked into
the tops of my Levi pockets, watching the heat shimmers, and daydreaming about
a certain red headed man I've never gotten out of my system, I noticed a man
come out of a shop at the far end of the block. His white dress shirt and black
slacks were a sharp contrast to the dried mud color of the adobe buildings. He
stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and looked around. His gaze paused on me
and then passed me once again as he studied the whole square. When it came back
to me the third time, I could see, even from that distance, how his
Mediterranean complexion and shiny black hair accented the sunlit sparkle of
his white teeth when he smiled.
He stepped off of the
board walk into the dusty unpaved street. As he strode toward me with his eyes
locked on mine, he grinned, and ignored the fact that his fine Italian shoes
turned from shiny black to the dun color of the dusty street, or that the
bottoms of his sharply creased black slacks were also covered in dust. His
stride was long as he advanced on me, his eyes never wavering from mine. Damn,
he was one sexy dude.
I could tell by the strut
of his walk that he was running a western movie in his mind. He was a gun totin' cowboy, a John Wayne character, his arms held akimbo
as he strode up the block. He started rolling his sleeves up to the elbows, and
by the time he reached the steps below me, he'd unbuttoned the front of his
shirt down to his navel exposing his sleek hirsute chest
I visibly swallowed as he
planted his right foot on the bottom step. He hooked his thumbs into his belt,
his fingers pointing at his crotch. "Howdy there,
Handsome." He drawled with a
I gave him a lopsided
smile and chuckled. "Howdy yourself, Dude." He tried to look offended
but ended up grinning. I pushed off the post and turned toward the door.
"Come on in and get out of this heat."
He climbed the steps,
stomping his feet; the dust flying off his shoes. He bent over and dusted each
pant leg with both hands. I admired his tight rear end and wondered if he had
purposefully turned his butt toward me, just to show it off.
He gave me his shit eatin' grin again as he straightened and turned around to
follow me inside. I walked through the store to the desk and propped my butt
against the edge of it and crossed my ankles, knowing that would accent the
bulge in my 501s. I folded my arms across my chest and with a thumb hooked
discreetly in the cloth in each arm pit I pulled my western plaid shirt open
exposing the abundance of curly chest hair.
He'd stopped just inside
the door glancing around at the merchandise on display. After wiping the sweat
and dust off his forehead with a white handkerchief he took in the view I was
giving him. He grinned again and went back to checking out my shop.
It was a gourmet cooking
shop which was a new thing back in those days before the department stores all
acquired one. At the rear of the store was a full-fledged kitchen where I, or a
guest chef, would hold demonstrations or classes in the evenings during the
cool months of the year. It helped to bring in the locals as well as the
tourists that come to see Old Albuquerque. They all get a kick out of a lean
cowboy like me wearing an apron and my sweat stained old cowboy hat.
"My name is
Rich," he said in an off-handed manner.
"It's nice to meet
you, Rich."
"Nice shop.
Something I'd expect to find on
I couldn't take offence
at the off-handed compliment since it was accompanied by that ever present
grin, but I couldn't just let it go, either. "Well, we've managed to pick
up a bit of civilizin' since the Injin
Wars." I drawled.
"Hey, I didn't mean
to offend, it's just the unpaved streets and wooden sidewalks. You know what I
mean?"
"I get you. We keep
the dirt because that's what you turistas expect to
see. Can't disappoint our customers, now can we?"
"What I've seen so
far hasn't been the least bit disappointing." Of course that was said with
that big grin as his eyes wandered up and down my torso. I wiggled my foot to
cover my anticipation. The movement caught his attention.
"Nice boots. I've
always wondered how you get your foot into something like that."
I raised an eyebrow and
shrugged. "You just put a sock on it and stick it in."
He caught the double
entendre and his grin widened. He wandered around the shop examining a portable
Bain Marie, and then some heavy tin-lined copper pots. Next he wandered though
the section of porcelain items and picked up a heart shaped Couer
de Creme mold, placed it over his heart and looked at
me. I wondered what the message was. Did he have a heart full of holes like the
mold or maybe his heart was rich as a cream dessert? Or possibly it was hard as
the porcelain mold or again maybe as fragile?
When he got to the foods
section he held up a bundle of Italian made dried Linguine. "Do you cook
Italian?" He asked.
"I do a fair job of
it. At least Mrs. Hasan gave me a passing grade when
I took her course."
"Here or
"I cook here."
"No, did you take
her course here in the
"Oh, actually it was
right here in my shop."
"You're joking. She
taught a class here in
"And what's wrong
with that?"
"It's not even
properly part of the States."
"You're yankin' my chain again, aren't you?" I shot a menacing
look at him.
He looked at me
innocently with big brown doe eyes as he asked, "You mean I'm not really
in a foreign country?"
"I hope you have
your passport on you," I growled, "because I'm going to arrest you
for being an illegal alien if you don't." I pulled my wallet out of my
rear pocket, flipping it open to flash my deputy U.S. Marshal's badge.
I'd swear he blanched as
he stepped closer to examine the badge. When he saw the
"You had me going
for a moment there."
I winked. He ducked his
head and continued examining the merchandise while continually glancing at me.
While intently studying some kitchen gadget he asked, "Is it illegal to
attempt to connect with a U.S. Marshal?"
"Depends on what you
mean by 'connect with' I suppose."
He didn't bother to
explain. He examined a few more items before asking another question.
"Are you
married?"
I raised an eyebrow at
him as he looked up at me. I gave him a quick shake of my head.
"Involved?" he
asked as he held a bottle of Greek Olive Salata
before his face.
"Let's bypass the
twenty questions. I am as interested in you as you are in me. There's a fine
little Mexican restaurant with in walking distance of my house. And my house is
two blocks from here. My help will be here in less than forty five minutes. May
I offer you a soft drink or a brew while we wait?"
His expression lit up.
His grin got bigger still.
"I've got Lone Star
or Coors.
"Had
a Coors. It's
like drinking piss."
I grinned.
"And you would know
about that?" I asked.
"Let me try one of
your Lone Stars." he pointedly ignored my query.
"A man after my own
taste," I said and stepped around the desk and into the store room. I
grabbed two long-necks out of the fridge, turned and walked right into his
arms. His lips met mine. We did a bit of exploring; he did a bit more than me
being I held a beer in each hand.
The old fashion spring-loaded
doorbell bounced as it jangled. I handed him the beers and stepped out into the
store. I greeted the three people politely and welcomed them even though one of
them was a local woman that really raised my hackles. She was a bleeding heart
liberal Welfare Department social worker. She worked for my ex who was the head
of investigating welfare eligibility. She didn't approve of people like me that
made no bones about my sexual preference, and in unlimited words she let my ex
know it. She commenced to do a guided tour around my shop. I ignored her and
turned back to Rich as the bell jangled again.
It was the mayor's wife.
Isabel was one of my favorite customers. She was a short, nearly dumpy,
middle-age matron. She was filthy rich, yet you would never know it by the way
she dressed sometimes, like now.
She'd apparently been
gardening when she remembered that she had to buy gift. Her hair was loosely
pinned on top of her head, a few damp strands clinging to her neck. Her
long-sleeved white blouse had dried mud smeared down the front of it. She also
had mud on her cheek and both forearms below the rolled-up sleeves. It was easy
to see where the tops of her gardening gloves had reached. Without even dusting
the dirt off her knees, she had obviously jumped into her little Jaguar
convertible and flew over to my shop to buy this important gift.
"Oh good, Shay, I
was I afraid I would have missed you. You must save me. I have to have the
perfect gift for a wedding shower. The young lady doesn't know the first thing
about cooking, so it needs to be something basic." She saw Rich standing
behind me. "Oh, hello."
"I've got the
perfect thing for you, Issy. But first let me
introduce my friend. Issy this is Rich, Rich this is Issy."
Rich stepped forward and
turned on a thousand watt smile that won her heart as he took her hand.
"It's very nice to meet you, Ma'am." he
said. I noticed he'd discreetly buttoned up his shirt.
"Oh my, you are a
gentleman. It's nice to meet you, too." She responded and turned to me.
"You do know how to pick them, Shay. I'd say he's a keeper."
I blushed and looked at
Rich who was just as red faced as me. Not many people can do that to me, but Issy is one that can and I don't know why. Maybe it's that
we've been friends forever; like since grade school.
At that moment, I heard
the social worker bitch saying something about how all Mexican pottery had lead
in the glaze and you couldn't use it for food. I glance at where she was
standing across the room. She was holding a stoneware covered onion soup bowl
from Tonala, Jalisco.
Everyone knows that Stoneware is fired at such a high temperature that if it
did have any lead in the glaze it would have evaporated. I was too far away to
correct her. I thought at her, "Drop it, Bitch."
I never thought that I
could cause someone to do something with just a thought. Her hand released the
bowl, letting it crash to the floor and shatter. I excused myself to Issy and Rich and hurried across the room. The three people
had squatted and were picking up the pieces of broken pottery. "Please,
leave it be. I don't want you cutting yourselves."
They stood up, each with
pieces in their hands. I held out mine to take them.
"I'm so sorry. I
don't know what made me do that," the bitch said.
"Don't worry about
it, Janet. Accidents happen. It's no big deal." I was playing the gracious
shop keeper that was feeling a lot of guilt over causing the incidence, even if
it was aimed at someone I intensely disliked.
"Well, I broke it. I
must be allowed to pay for it," she said.
"No, no, really,
don't worry about it."
One of her friends popped
up, "Well, I guess we'll have to buy something then."
I grinned. "Now,
that is something that I can't object to."
"Excuse me,"
The other person said. "Isn't this stoneware?" She pointed at the
pieces in my hands.
"Why yes, it
is."
She turned to Miss Social
Worker. "Janet, stoneware is fired at such a high
temperature that if there was any lead in the glaze it would turn to a
gas and disappear. Isn't that right, Mr. Warren?"
"Yes, that is correct.
You're very knowledgeable."
"I'm a
ceramicist." she said grinning.
"Oh, cool," I
replied, and turned toward the desk. I didn't want Janet to see the nasty
little self-satisfied smile on my face.
Meanwhile, Rich and Issy were getting along like old buddies. He had helped her
decide to get one of the new French Cuisinart food
processors that had recently come on the American market. He had it half
wrapped when I dumped the shards into the waste basket.
"Let me finish
that," I said.
"I've got it; you write
it up and take care of the payment.
"My, you two make a
good team. You're not looking for a job are you, Rich?" Issy asked.
"No, I don't think
that this place would pay more than I make in my present job."
"And what is
that?" she asked.
"I'm a Medical
Doctor doing research on aging for one of the pharmaceutical companies."
"Oh, Shay, you've
got to keep this one for sure he's a medical doctor." She winked at Rich.
I couldn't help teasing
him by bouncing my eyebrows suggestively at him. I swear he blushed again.
Damn, there something so sexy about a masculine man that can blush.
Rich finished doing a
fabulous wrapping on Issy's gift and I wrote up the
sale and put it on her American Express, while Issy
was talking to Rich.
"I just want you to
know that I really appreciate how you just accepted my appearance. I know I
look like I live on the street. But you and Shay just treat me like I have all
the money in the world."
I interrupted with an
aside.
"Don't let her kid
you, Rich, she does have all the money in the world."
"I'm being serious
here, Shay, so stop the smart remarks. Anyway, Rich, my husband and I flew into
"I left there went
back to the Waldorf and dressed up in my finest put on all my diamonds and
marched right back into Tiffany's. Needless to say, the staff was all over me.
I asked to see the manager. When he came out, I said to him in a voice loud
enough for all the employees and customers to also hear, "I came in here
not an hour ago dressed like a common person. Except for being closely watched
so I wouldn't steal anything, I was completely ignored. Now everyone wants to
be my personal servant. I just want to say one thing. Everyone should be
treated with courtesy and respect when they come through your doors. And since
they aren't, you can just all fuck off because I going down the street to Harry
Winston's. They are always polite and helpful." I marched out the door and
have never gone back in there. There is just no reason for rudeness. That's why
I enjoy coming into Shay's. The first time I came in here I looked worse than I
do now. Don't say it; I know I look like I slept in a cardboard box last night.
And Shay treated me like royalty even though he didn't know me from Eve. I
appreciate that."
I didn't wreck her little
story by informing Rich that Issy and I had been
friends since we wore diapers.
After Issy
had taken her wrapped gift and left, the couple with Janet wanted to purchase a
big covered serving bowl from the Tonala collection.
I told them that in appreciation of their purchase I would give them a courtesy
discount and I asked them to please come back when they were again in town.
They left with smiles on their faces and even Janet looked pleasant as she went
out the door.
"You are good at
public relations." Rich said as he handed me the untouched bottle of beer.
"That's one of my
lesser talents." I was thinking about what I done to Janet, but when he
grinned suggestively, I forgot about what I'd done and leered at him.
A few seconds later Rich had me backed up against the
refrigerator door telling me what he was going to do to me once I got him home.
I saw Joy, my one employee, let herself in through the back door. "Hi
Joy," I meekly said. She turned and saw us and looked exasperated. Joy is
another friend that I've know forever. I always figured that if I'd been
straight shed have been my wife.
Rich must have thought I
was pulling a fast one; he continued to nuzzle my neck and mutter about the
obscene things he was going to do to me. Joy tapped him on the back and said,
"Excuse me for one moment please, while I put my food in the fridge."
Rich jumped back and
looked aghast. I laughed, but Joy ignored his response. Once her food was in
the fridge she turned on me. "Mr. Warren," she said. Joy and I have
always been on a first name basis so I knew she was upset. "If you walked
in on me, like I just found you, I would imagine you would be considering
firing me. Right?" She had a valid point. "I
can't fire you, unfortunately. And threatening to quit would be
counterproductive to my income. So what do you suggest I do?"
Rich butted in.
"Excuse me, Miss, may I inject a thought here?" Obviously he had no
idea what he'd just done. Joy turned on him.
"You listen to me
well, Mr. Sex on two legs. I don't care how horny you are or what you'd like to
do to my boss after you get him home. Your behavior in my store is completely
inappropriate. So save your injections for when you get Shay behind closed
doors." She paused, and then added, "Pun intended."
She turned and glared at
me and then closed her eyes a moment. When she opened them she smiled.
"Get the hell out of here, Shay, and go enjoy what Mr. Sex was suggesting.
You lucky bastard."
She started straightening
the mess I'd left on the desk. Unprepared for her complete turnaround; neither
Rich nor I moved. She glanced up and frowned. "What? You want some more
verbal abuse? Go on get out of here." We scurried for the door. As we left
Rich asked loud enough for her to hear, "Is she a nurse?"
When we walked into
I took Rich directly home
with me. Once we got through the front door and got it closed behind us we
commenced to do everything Rich had promised and an amazing amount more. We
were so compatible. When we'd exhausted ourselves we fell asleep in each
other's arms.
I awoke a little later
and in the dimming light of the dying day, I studied Rich. Such a handsome man
and to think he'd literally walked into my arms. I summed up what little I knew
about him. He's a doctor doing research here. He has a
A finger trailing through
the hair on my chest and belly woke me up. I opened my eyes and looked into
his. He smiled and kissed me. "I've got to get moving, Shay. I have a
dinner date with some of the hospital staff that I'm working with."
"Oh," was the
only response I could come up with.
He slid out of bed and
started dressing. "I'll shower back at the hotel."
I simply nodded.
Once he was dressed, he
leaned down and gave me a tongue-filled kiss. I reciprocated. When he broke it
and straightened up, he smiled. "Damn, you are not only handsome, you're
the best."
"You need a ride
back to the square?"
He shook his head.
"Nah, my car's parked just down the street. We
passed it coming here. Listen, I'll give you a call when I'm back in
town."
"When are you
leaving?" I asked.
"Six
tomorrow morning.
I fly to
I thought back to the
images running through my mind while I'd romped with Rich. I wished for the ten
millionth time that I could get Tom out of my system.
I got up and showered.
Having decided there was no future in sticking around the house I headed for
Part Two
I stepped into the dim
bar and let my eyes adjust as I looked around. I nodded to several different
people before I saw my old buddy Tom Tooley sitting at the far end of the bar
nursing a beer. He saw me about the same time and his whole countenance lit up.
He's about the most pleasant guy I know. Tooley's my size maybe a little
slenderer than me, a mop of dark auburn hair, fair complected,
startling blue eyes and a constant smile. He's been my best friend since grade
school. But he's straight so I kind of leave him alone. I sidled in next to him
and said howdy. For a moment he didn't look happy to see me; then he threw an
arm around my neck and kissed my cheek. I didn't reciprocate, but I did close
my eyes and cherish it and thought' He's had too much to drink.' Usually he
doesn't touch me.
"Damn, Shay, I just
don't get to see enough of you," he said.
"Is that my
fault?" I asked him. He lives less then five blocks from me. I don't often
seek him out. With his family and all I didn't want to interfere. I let him
come to me.
"Of course it
is." He leaned into me and put an arm around my neck. God if he just
wasn't straight.
"Have you had
dinner?" I asked; think that getting some food into him would sober him up
some.
"Nope. Don't like eating by
myself."
"Want me to join
you."
"Damn, Shay, you do
ask some stupid questions," he said and tightened his arm around my neck.
"But you just had dinner a couple of hours ago."
"Hey, buddy, you
need to eat. I'll keep you company."
He looked at me for a
long moment. I swear he had tears in his eyes. His arm was still around my
shoulders and he pulled me against him. "I sure do love you, Shay. You're
the best friend a guy could have."
My heart thumped extra
hard, but I knew it was just the alcohol talking. I grinned at him. "Your
ass glued to that stool?" I asked.
One would have thought it
was greased the way he slid off onto his feet so fast.
"Come on, what cha
waiting for?" he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the
restaurant. Yup, he'd definitely had a few. Sober he would’ve never taken me by
the hand in public. He obviously didn't know what his touch was doing to me.
It's always been that way
with me, taking what ever little bit of intimacy Tooley would give me, thankful
to have him for my friend and always wishing it could be more.
We were quickly seated in
one of the high backed booths that offer lots of privacy. Tooley was looking
over the menu.
He stabbed his finger at
a picture of a stack of enchiladas. "I was out in
I'd heard what Tooley was
saying but I figured the question was rhetorical so I didn't respond. I was also
still thinking about my roll with Rich. I was tired of these dalliances. I
wanted more. I wanted Tooley and I knew he was off limits, but his touches
tonight really fucked up my thinking. For one thing it dawned on me while I was
muddling that all these years it was always Tooley that came to me. First when
we were kids his parents discouraged me hanging around his house. And then he
got married and I didn't want to harm his marriage so I stayed away. Staying
away had be come such a habit that even after his divorce I stayed away. But
tonight I'd sought him.
The waitress came and
took our orders. He ordered Carne Asada con papas fritas
y veduras, a grilled marinated steak with fried
potatoes and vegetables. That was one of the great things about
"Hey, Shay, are you
okay? You look like someone just took your lolly pop
away from you."
I shrugged. "Yeah, I
kinda feel that way."
"You want to tell me
about it?"
Tooley's known that I'm
gay for years. Hell, since we were in high school. It never made any difference
to him. He remained my best friend. I never had any difficulty talking to him
about anything except how I felt about him.
"Oh, it's silly.
Damn, at thirty eight, you'd think I'd quit expecting more than just getting my
rocks off." I commenced to tell him the whole story. His food came and as
he ate I finished the story and ended up feeling sorry for myself. I couldn't
tell him what really had me feeling down.
Tooley spooned up the
last bit of the sauce on his plate and pushed it away. He finished off the
second beer that he'd had with his meal, set the bottle next to his plate and
leaned forward. "Shay?" I looked up at my
old friend. He reached across the table and took my hand. I stared at our
hands. I was hard and leaking from his touch. "Can I ask you
something?"
I looked back up at him
and shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"Why do you keep
doing it? I mean I've been watching you ever since that damn Lee left you.
What? Ten years ago? You keep meeting these guys and you keep trying to form a
relationship out of a toss in the sack. Everyone of
them leave you high and dry. Why, Shay? Why do you do it?"
I just blankly stared at
him. I knew damned well why, but I had couldn't tell him. I wondered if he had
an inkling that the reason Lee had left me was because he couldn't complete
with a redheaded straight man.
"Did you ever think
about looking closer to home for someone?" he asked. He squeezed my hand
and I looked down at it and then back up at him. He has the most amazing blue
eyes. His eye lashes are even auburn.
"Closer
to home?"
I asked. "You have someone in mind?"
He stared at me for a
moment while he chewed his lip. "Me," he said.
"But.... you're...
you're... you're straight."
"Tried
to be. Thought
for along time I'd succeeded in bein'."
I stared at him a long
time. I wondered if it was the booze talking. Did this mean that he was playing
around with other guys? Is that how he knew he wasn't straight? Jealousy reared
her ugly head. I thought of all the years I'd carried a torch for him. "So
you're into playing with other men now?"
His expression said I
might as well have slapped him. "Damn you, Shay. Do you really think I'd
play around on you?"
This wasn't making any
sense. "You're playing head games on me, aren't you?" I asked.
"I'm serious. No
games."
I dropped my eyes down to
his hand on top of mine. My anger boiled up. This had to be the liquor if it
wasn't a game. It was hitting to close to my central core, my reason for
living. "You bastard. How dare you tell me you're
not straight? I've spent my whole life trying to find someone to take your
place." I yanked my hand away like his touch burned me, slid out of the
booth and stood over him. "You can go straight to hell,” I turned on a
heel, headed for the door.
Tooley slid out of the
booth and followed me outside. "Shay, stop," he yelled after me as I
headed toward home. He raced after me and caught my arm, pulling me around.
I shook his hand off.
"Don't touch me, you asshole."
"We've got to talk
about this."
The waitress had followed
us out. "Senores you forgot to pay." We both turned and stared at
her. She stood there waving the bill at us. Tooley pulled out his wallet and
handed her a fifty dollar bill. "Keep the change." With profuse gratitude
she went back inside.
He turned back to me and
repeated. "Shay, we need to talk about this."
"Not
right now, we don't. I'd just as soon beat the livin' shit outta you as look at you. How dare you tell me you’re not
straight?"
"I don't
understand.”
"You don't
understand? Well, tough shit. That makes two of us. And...
and... just stay away from
me." I turned and started walking again. I could hear him blubbering
behind me. He yelled, "I'm sorry. Shay, I'm so sorry."
I glanced back at him.
He'd collapsed on the sidewalk. I stopped and thought about it. He was my best
friend after all; I couldn't just leave him lying there. I walked back and
stood looking down at him. How in hell was I supposed to stay angry when he was
being so pathetic? God I hate drunks. I just can't deal with them. I felt like
kicking him in the kidneys, but instead I put my boot heel on his rump and
pushed him. "Get up, Tooley, you S.O.B." Damn I hate dealing with
drunks.
He got up to his knees
and wrapped his arms around my thighs and pressed his forehead against my
crotch. "You don't know how hard it's been, Shay. My
parents, Marcia, my kids."
A group of people had
stopped to watch. I grabbed Tooley by his armpits and pulled him up. "He's
just a maudlin drunk, folks. Pay no attention. I'll get him home," I told
them. They filed on into the restaurant. "Did you drive here?" I
asked.
He nodded.
"Gimme your keys. Where'd you park?"
He pointed across the
street and handed me his keys. I gathered him against my side with an arm
around his shoulders and proceeded to cross the street. He put an arm around my
waist. Damn, it felt good, like that was where it was supposed to be. But I was
still pissed. He'd deprived me of so many years of...of...himself, of this
pleasure of holding him, of him holding me. I should have taken him to his own
place. But I couldn't see leaving him for his teenage son to deal with.
Once I got him into the
house, he passed out on the sofa. I suspected that he'd had a lot more to drink
than I'd previously thought. I stood over him and stared at him for several
minutes. It could have been seconds. It felt like a long time anyway. Finally,
I sighed and went to find a shot of something to numb the pain, the anger, the
hurt.
Tequila. I took the bottle and a shot
glass out to the dark patio and collapsed into a chair by the pool. The Tequila
was too fine to toss back. I sipped it, savoring the flavor and considered what
Tooley had told me. I could feel the pound of my blood coursing through my
veins. I wanted to continue to be angry, somewhere along the way I'd decided
that he wasn't playing with me. So he had to get drunk to tell me. So what, I
couldn't blame him. I knew what his father and mother had been like. Self-righteous, hate-blinded, self-professed Christians.
They'd been the kind that approved of killing women and children in the name of
their god, but hated a man that loved another man.
I'd gone to his mother's
funeral and endured his father's baleful hate-filled stare. And then when his
father died I had stood by him again much to Marcia's consternation. But Tooley
was straight and I knew she had no threat from me.
And then a year later
Marcia divorced him and moved back to Portales. (Por-tal-es)
It wasn't eight months after that that Andy, Tooley's fifteen year old son, was
shipped back to live with him. Tooley never said why and I hadn't asked. But I
understood why he'd tried to be straight.
I hadn't realized it, but
I must have gone through at least three jiggers of Tequila Anejo.
I was feeling mellow when Tooley came out and laid a hand on my shoulder. Damn,
why did he have to keep touching me? I should have pushed his hand away;
instead I laid my cheek against it.
"How are you
doing?" I asked.
"I haven't the least
idea," he said. "And you?"
"The tequila's got me
feeling pretty numb."
"Are you still
pissed off at me?"
"Tom, come around
here and sit down."
"Why are you calling
me Tom?" he asked. "You've always used my last name."
"Well, I guess it
was my way of reminding myself you were off
limits."
"Oh."
"I've been sitting
out here thinking about your life. I understand why you attempted to lead a
straight life. I just don't' understand why you never said anything to
me."
Tom stared past me. I
began to wonder if he'd even heard me.
"For years I
couldn't admit it to myself. When I did there was still no way I could tell
anyone else. If I'd talked about it, Shay, even to you....no, especially to
you, I'd probably have given up trying."
"And Marcia found
out anyway and divorced you."
"No, we divorced
amiably. We realized that we didn't need each other any more. In the beginning
she needed a husband and father for the kid she was pregnant with and I needed
a wife to hide behind. And our constant bickering wasn't good for the
kids."
I'd often wondered why
Amy his oldest didn't look like him while Andy was his spittin'
image and Darlene was a female version of her brother.
"So why did you wait
four years after your divorce to tell me?"
"Still
scared. And Andy. Just about the time I'd gotten up the courage to
tell you Andy came back to live with me."
"I've never
understood why Marcia shipped him back to you, especially now that I know
you're gay."
"She couldn't accept
that he was gay. She knew I would, being you're my best friend."
"Andy's
now nineteen and starting college this fall. So you have found yourself a new
lady to take Marcia's place?"
Tom looked me in the eyes
and shook his head. "You really are a dumb fuck." He reached across
the table and took the bottle out of my hand and then took my hand in both of
his. I stared at them. My heart had started pounding. I was getting nervous.
Wanted to get up and run, Tried to pull my hand away, but he held onto it.
"Look at me, Shay." I glanced up at him. Something in his eyes caught
mine. I was held in thrall. "I need you to forgive me for what I've done
to you. I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't be what you wanted. I was so
scared of my feelings. So scared that my parents would hate me and disown me if
they found out. And then I trapped myself in a loveless marriage. Hell, the
only good things in my life have been you and my kids. Please forgive me,
Shay."
I'd thought he was going
to declare his undying love for me. Well, he hadn't really done anything that
deserved my forgiveness. I pulled my hand and he let go. I stood and walk over
to the edge of the pool and stared into its bright aqua depths. I turned and
looked back at Tom lit only from the eerie light from the pool. I was watching,
waiting. 'So now he wasn't straight. He was wanting my
forgiveness, but was he wanting me? He hadn't said so in so many words."
I stared back into the
pool. I was missing something. Something he'd said. I mulled over the whole
sequence of events since I'd run into him at
I knelt beside him and
caressed the back of his head. "Did you mean it when you suggested I look
closer to home?" I asked.
He looked at me. Red does
not compliment his beautiful blue eyes. He nodded, cleared his throat and said,
"Yes."
I stood and Tom stood up
with me. He was obviously waiting for me to make a move. I reached out and
pulled him to my chest. Kissed the top of his head as he laid
his forehead on my shoulder. "I love you, Tom. Have you ever had
sex with another man?"
He pulled back and stared
at me, incredulous that I ask such a question.
"Well, then. We're
going to take this slow. I know you're my best friend, but I don't know that
you're really ready to be my lover."
He hugged himself to me
like a child hugs, with his total body. I loved the feel of his smaller body
against mine. His forehead was even with my lips. I kissed it. "I'm ready,
Shay." He said, looking up at me.
I simply nodded and
sought his lips. I felt his hesitation, but persisted. His tongue haltingly
explored my lips and I opened to him. His tongue brushed over my teeth. I
touched my tongue to his. His body tensed, but after a moment of dueling with
my tongue he relaxed and we took turns exploring each other's mouths. I could
feel his hardness pressed against me and slid a hand down to grasp his cock
through his jeans. He startled and the pushed into my hand as he stared into my
eyes like a frightened deer His body tensed and started quaking. He came in his
pants. I held him tightly against me until he regained his equilibrium.
He lay limply against me,
his arms dangling at his sides. "I'm sorry, Shay. I didn't mean to do
that."
"Hey, it's okay,
Tom, I didn't know that I turn you on so much."
Tom started laughing. It
started as a gentle chuckle but ended being a near hysterical cackle.
"If... if you...Oh shit. If you only knew what a battle I've had keeping
myself under control around you." He was hugging me and kissing my neck as
he calmed down with an occasional outburst. And then he pulled back. "Uh
oh, what time is it?"
I glanced at my watch.
"It's
"I promised Andy I'd
be home to meet this guy he's been dating. Seems to be
getting serious about him. Come with me?"
"Tom, I'd love to
but I'm on duty tomorrow morning. I have to be at the court house at seven.
I've got to get some sleep. It's been a hard day."
Tom looked crestfallen.
I grimaced and shrugged.
He then must have
remembered my story about Rich. I'm sure I turned a dark shade of red when he
said, "Oh, yeah, I forgot," and pulled away from me.
"Tom, I promise if
you're tellin the truth, it's only you from now
on."
He nodded and shoved his
hands into his pockets. The wet spot from his orgasm was right over his right
hand. "I gotta go change my pants before the boys get home."
I pulled his keys out of
my pocket and handed them to him. "You know you'd always have been the one
and only one if you'd been available."
He nodded and said,
"I know. It's just never meant anything before. Well, it did, but I....you
know." He heaved a great sigh and said, "I've gotta go." He was
almost running as he went out the side gate, leaving me standing there feeling
like I'd been unfaithful to him.
I stared at the damned
gate for a long time trying to get my thoughts unjumbled.
My emotions were a wreck. As I thought about it I was still kind of angry. I
still felt betrayed. I felt guilty for my afternoon's toss in the sack with
Rich. I felt good and guilty at the same time that Tom had kissed me and let me
fondle him. The thought crossed my mind that he had just been horny and he'd
been drunk. Tomorrow or the next time we saw each other, neither of us would
say anything about what had happened and life would go on as usual. That
depressed me.
I picked up the tequila
bottle with the intention of taking a big swig, but ended up tightening the
cap, picking up the shot glass and heading into the house. I stopped and stared
at the phone, shrugged and headed for another shower. It hadn't been three
hours since my last shower, but I needed to feel the sharp hot spray on my
tense shoulders before going to bed.
Once in bed I stared at
the blackness that was the ceiling and ticked through the days events. I knew
it would be a long time before sleep sought me out. The phone rang.
"Shay
"I can't go to bed
without saying......" There was a long pause. "I love you, Shay.
You're a good friend. Didn't mean to leave so abruptly.
My emotions are a wreck."
"I made you a
promise tonight, Tom. I keep my word. You know that. You also know I love you,
you SOB."
Tom chuckled. It was good
to hear him laugh. "I deserved that, I suppose. Good night, Shay." He
disconnected.
For the rest of the night
I wondered how he meant it when he said he loved me. Just as a friend? What?
Being a U.S. Deputy
Marshal is my real job, and the kitchen shop in
Joy took one look at me
and shook her head. "Damn, another one duped you."
I frowned at her.
"Mind your own business woman." She shook her head. "He's
already on his way back to
"Well.... Oh, we got
in a shipment of Takahashi enamel ware. I've got most of it unpacked and
inventoried. You keep shop and I'll finish it up."
"Sure you don't want
me to finish up?" This is the boss asking the employee. What can I say?
She runs things. I'm just glad I'm not straight, 'cause I know she'd try being
my wife if I were. She plays the part in taking care of me in the shop anyway.
"No, you've put in a
full days work. I'll do it." With that she disappeared into the back. I
followed as far as the fridge which I opened and pulled out a long neck. The
front door bell jangled. I twisted off the cap and took a swig figuring I'd
give the customer a moment to look around before I greeted them. Suddenly I was
thrust up against the fridge. My attacker had a strong grip on my wrists
holding them up above the fridge. His hot breath on my neck made me shiver. I
could feel a hard cock pressed against my ass as kisses were applied to my
neck. Before I could get loose or turn around, Joy was asking, "What is
with that damned refrigerator? Is it some kind of sex magnet? Every time I turn
around, Shay, some man has you thrust up against it."
My attacker jumped back.
As I started to turn around Joy screamed, "Tom Tooley!"
"Hi Joy. I didn't
know you were hiding back there."
"I wasn't hiding.
What were you doing to my boss?"
I watched Tom turn a dark
red as he stuttered, "I... I...I was just kissin'
the back of his neck. That's all."
"And why
were..."
"Joy, shut up and
mind your own business," I said.
"Shay..."
"Just leave him
alone."
"What? That you’re
so damned hot even this straight man can't keep his hands off of you?"
"That's enough, Joy.
Tom's already embarrassed enough."
"I just stopped by
to say hi. I gotta run." He turned and fled.
I turned on Joy.
"See what you did?"
She stared at me
wide-eyed. For the first time since I've known here she was utterly speechless.
I grimaced and said,
"I'm sorry. I'm sure you were shocked. She blinked, turned to the fridge
and got herself a beer and wandered out the front door
and sat on the edge of the board walk. I followed her to the door.
"You know you could
be arrested for drinking on the street."
"Oh B.S., I know every
damn cop in this part of the city. They wouldn't dare." I knew she was
right. I wandered over and sat beside her. "So Tommy finally came out of
his closet," she muttered.
"He kind of said
that last night. He's acting weird. Last night he kept touching me. What do you
think his problem is?"
"Shay, don't tell me
you didn't know that the man's been in love with you since... geez.... since you guys were freshman in high school."
"Tom has been my
best friend all my life. He's straight"
"Damn, you're dumber
than a rock. Why do you think that Marcia divorced him?" she asked.
"That's simple.
Because she didn't want to live with a man she didn't love and that didn't love
her."
"Dumber
than a rock."
She said and shook her head. "She had two kids by him. She agreed to an
amicable divorce. She even gave his son back to him."
"That's because the
boy is gay and she could accept it."
Again she shook her head
and said, "Dumber than a rock."
"Would you stop
saying that, you’re giving me a complex."
"Well, it's true. All
men are dumb. Of course, she loves him. Why else wouldn't she have taken him to
the cleaners? Damn, Shay, she wanted to see him find some happiness after his
poker-up-the-ass parents finally died.
"I wonder why she
never told him that."
"How do you know she
didn't?"
"He told me that
they amicably divorced because they couldn't stand each other."
"And that sounds
logical to you?"
"Well, it did."
"Dumber than a
rock," she muttered and took a long swig of her beer.
"Damn, it's hot out
here." I finished off my beer and stood up. "Come on back inside
where it's cool." I gave her a hand and took her empty bottle so she could
dust her bottom off.
When she came back inside
I turned the Open sign around so it read Closed and locked the door. "What
are you doing? It's only
"And there's not
soul out on the plaza. Do you want another beer?"
She laughed and said,
"Sure."
I turned the lights off.
Pulling a couple of bottles out of the fridge, I walked over to the dining
table by the kitchen set up and motioned for her to join me.
When she sat down I
asked, "Is that the truth? Marcia divorced him so he could be with
me?"
"Shay, I've never
lied to you."
"So do think I
should go find him and seriously pursue this?"
She laughed. "Hell,
Shay, if you weren't dumber that a rock you would have followed him out the
door."
"I guess I am. Where
do you suppose he went?"
"If he's like other
men he headed for the nearest place to get a drink."
"
"That's the first
place I'd look."
I guzzled the rest of the
beer and stood up. "I'm going to walk over there."
"That's the thing to
do," she said.
"You'll lock
up?"
"Get out of here,
Shay."
I wandered down the block
to
I didn't know. I wasn't
sure I'd know the truth if it hit me between the eyes. Manny, the bartender
caught Tom's attention and motion with his head in my direction. Tom turned and
nodded at me. I walked over and sat down on the bar stool next to him. He
stared straight ahead. Manny brought me a long neck and went back to polishing
glasses.
I took a swig and looked
at Tom. "Sorry she embarrassed you."
He shrugged. "Just wanted to say, "Hi."
I grinned. "I like
the way you said it."
He grinned, still not
looking at me, took a swig and ducked his head.
"Look, Tom," I
said. "Joy says I'm dumber than a rock and maybe I am. She says that the
reason that Marcia divorced you was because she loves you and so you could be
with me. Is that true?"
He didn't answer. After
taking another swallow of beer he turned and looked at me. "And if it
is?" he asked as if it were a challenge.
"Is it?" I
demanded.
He stared at me some
more, maybe to be sure I wouldn't react like last night. "Yeah, it's
true." He turned back to his bottle and lifted it to his lips.
"Marcia divorced you
four years ago. It took you four years to get around to telling me. I've seen
you at least every other day for every one of those four years."
"And I wanted to
tell you every time." He muttered into the top of his beer bottle not
looking at me.
"So what kept you
from it?"
"Fear."
"Fear? The man that
faced three Chicano punks with switchblades, backed them down and ended up with
the three blades in his pocket was afraid to tell his faggot best friend that
he was gay and in love with him."
"Hell, Shay this is
different."
"So why did you tell
me that you and Marcia hated each other?"
"Didn't
mean to lie. I
just was too scared to say the truth. I mean what if you'd stopped loving me. I
would be left high and dry with my mouth hangin'
open."
"Damn, Tom. Maybe
Joy is right. She says all men are dumb as rocks."
"You tellin' me I'm dumb?"
"You are if you
think I'd stop.... Do you really want to be with me?"
"What do you think,
Shay?"
"I think my thinking
is really messed up. You've been straight my whole life and now you're not. I
don't know what to do with that."
I could feel Tom staring
at me like he was memorizing the side of my face. I couldn't bring myself to
look at him. He wasn't straight any more. He's told me he loves me. I don't
know for sure what kind of love he means. I was afraid to be forward for fear
of having misinterpreted.
"You could pretend
that I am a stranger that has just walked into your store and find you hot and
sexy."
"And you'd be
pretending, too?"
"Joy is right about
you and rocks."
"You want me to take
you home and have my way with you?" He nodded. "I always fuck the
guys I take home. You ready to be fucked?
"I bought a dildo
after Marcia left. I've been practicing."
"I also get fucked.
You ready to stick to it me and give me a good hard fucking?"
Tom grinned at me. "Thinkin' about drilling your beautiful butt gets me hard as
a rock."
I grinned slyly at Tom.
"So where'd you say you're from stranger?"
We hurriedly finished off
our beers and headed for the door.
I stopped midway there
and Tom turned around to see why. "Damn it, Tom, this isn't going to
work."
"Why
not? I'm willin'. Little Shay looks like he's willin'."
he was pointedly looking at my swollen dick. "What's the problem?"
I put my hand around the
back his neck and headed for the door. "The problem is I'm in love with
you."
He put his hand on my
shoulder and shook his head. "That is a problem. Double problem."
"Double
problem?"
"Yup,
'cause I'm in love with you."
We meandered down the
street towards my house, arms around each other's shoulders. “You know, Tom,
this double problem is kind of like a double negative in a sentence."
"How's
that?"
"A double negative
makes a positive."
Tom grinned. "So
what we've got here is something positive."
"Yup. Something very
positive. And Joy thinks we're dumb as rocks. Ha!"