My Brother Prefers Boys Too
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Story - The Lottery (6)
Table of contents for The Lottery
The Lottery
Part 6
Paul stared at the people passing by as he sat on the small wooden bench in the town’s park. He enjoyed coming here and just watching. It gave him a bit of connection to the people and many would nod or smile as they passed him by. He had no illusion that many looked at him as a strange duck, not because he was gay but because with all his money he had chosen to live here in Arnold. Many of them couldn’t understand why he would leave a big city for the dull routine of a small town and to be honest, he wasn’t so sure himself.
He liked the life here, the slow pace and the fact that people took to calling everyone by their first name. He had lived here for only a few short months but already he was ‘Paul’ to most of the local businesses he frequented. The bank tellers all called him Paul and even the waiter at his favourite restaurant called him that. The clerks at the grocery store called him Paul and even the gas jockey at Matt’s Garage had finally felt safe enough to call him Paul.
It was a nice feeling really but at times it did feel rather hollow. He knew he came into town every Friday like this not because he had to, but because he enjoyed hearing a voice and seeing a face to put with it. Mark had been right, he had isolated himself from people which was easy to do in a big uncaring city, but it was just as easy to do in a small town too.
Ever since that party he hadn’t spoken to Mark Thayer. He felt sad at that and several times he had thought about calling him but he always put the phone back down or just never picked it up. What could he say to him? The words they had exchanged had left a mark, had even created a rift between them that Paul just didn’t know how to bridge. Worse though was that what he really wanted to ask was about Jock.
There too he felt at a loss. His heart ached each night when he would go into his library as he could still see the tall man standing by the shelves. He could still see the beaming smile on his face and yet he hadn’t called him, hadn’t even tried to get in touch with Jock. Course his mind would say that Jock hadn’t tried either, but why would he? He had been thrust into a situation by Mark which had been awkward. Besides, Jock was young and Paul was over the hill, an old man in age no matter what Mark Thayer might make of that.
No, as much as his mind might think Jock should have or could have called he knew in his heart that it should be him doing the calling. It was just that, well, he was old. He was 61 years of age and chasing after some 30 something man was preposterous. Mark was right, he couldn’t offer Jock anything but at best a few short years. It wouldn’t be fair to Jock so he avoided it by not calling him. That was his excuse and yet sitting on the bench every Friday afternoon he found his thoughts returning to Jock.
It was like reliving last summer and fall all over again he thought. The sleep at night always seemed to be restless, to be more exhausting than the day even after chopping wood. When he had moved up here he had gone many nights without dreaming of Jock or even thinking of him, but since that party Jock had once more invaded his dreams. It was becoming a worse obsession than before and Paul wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
Tommy had told him he should call him if he was feeling this way. Easy for him to say but damn what could he say? Okay, he had enjoyed their time together that afternoon, had been impressed really with Jock’s sensitivity and of course his love for reading had enamoured him in Paul’s eyes. Still he couldn’t just pick up the phone and invite him over for the weekend like Tommy urged, or could he?
For starters he wouldn’t know how to even begin the conversation. What was he supposed to say? Hi, I am the rich guy Mark embarrassed you in front of? He doubted if that would go over good and frankly that is exactly how it had been. There was no doubt that Jock had felt ashamed and embarrassed, so what could he say? Tommy suggested he invite him up to help stack new books in the shelves, but that felt too obvious to Paul. Least in his mind it was though Tommy thought it would work.
He wished he could get Jock out of his thoughts, wished he could either get up the nerve to phone him or get on with enjoying his remaining days. Naturally thinking like that seemed to also bring back that conversation with good old Mark Thayer. Damn him too for even saying half that stuff but sitting on the bench, Paul knew that part of it was true. Maybe that was why he had refused Mark’s offer to stay and clean up after the party, could also be why he hadn’t called Mark since and why he kept chickening out in calling Jock. He just wished he knew what to do, wished that for once he could get past being practical, being the pragmatist instead of the optimist.
Jason had told him that they were a good pair. When pressed he had said that he, Jason, was the one who could get Paul to move off the couch, to take a risk now & then while Paul was the one who would be there to catch him when he fell from whatever stunt he had tried. In retrospect Paul knew it had been true. Jason had been the one to go out, to incite even and he had dragged Paul with him many times. It was true to that when those forays out had turned bad or not worked out he had been the one to cool things down, to soothe the ruffled feathers.
It was like yesterday but it was 20 years ago when Jason knew he wouldn’t see another birthday that he had told Paul what his only regret in life had been. Two actually because the first one had been that he hadn’t met Paul earlier, so that they would have had more time being together. That statement had rocked him and even now he could feel the tears welling up inside of him. The words still rang out inside his head and made his heart ache with such pain that he felt like it would burst out from his chest. He hated that feeling and yet he also loved it. It meant that he was alive still inside, that he could feel.
The other thing that gnawed at him was that Jason had wished he could have gotten Paul to realize how wonderful life was, that he could have given Paul some of his outgoing nerve. It was the words that hurt because in some ways he felt like he had disappointed or let Jason down. He knew in his heart that he hadn’t, he knew that Jason had loved him for who he was, not who he might be, but in those last few months he also knew that Jason worried about him, about his future. He had told him not to grieve too long, told him that he should take the trips they had planned and remember him then, but he also told him to get out, to find someone who would make him enjoy life like he had.
It hurt to think that Jason worried about him when he was in such pain but that had been Jason. Oh sure they had their fights but to be honest most of them were about minor things. The only real serious battles had been about his reluctance to change his routine, to take new risks. Jason had wanted Paul to be active in life, and for his part Paul had argued that he was, just in different ways. Jason never really bought into that, and thinking back on it Paul knew that Jason had been right.
It was just that he never was comfortable meeting new people. He always felt like he wasn’t up to the standards or afraid that he couldn’t meet their expectations. It wasn’t rational but it was how he had felt. Jason didn’t quite believe that, to him he felt that Paul was simply afraid that he might actually enjoy it or perhaps be disappointed. In some ways Jason had thought that Paul was afraid to find out that life wasn’t always the way it was depicted in the books, that it wasn’t always dark or filled with tragedy. He also knew that Paul felt uneasy by mankind, felt unsure of his fellow man. He knew that wasn’t completely true still at times lately, he wondered about it.
Thinking about it brought back Mark’s words too. He had said that Paul used his books to escape life, not to enjoy the wonders detailed in the books. Course Mark hadn’t said it quite so nicely but that had been his intent. He didn’t believe it then but now, looking out at the milling people he wondered if perhaps it wasn’t true? Trouble was even if it was, it just seemed too late to turn back the clock. He was 61 years old now, why waste the time or effort in a fool’s errand?
Mr Taylor?
The voice startled him as he turned his head to stare at the tall young man standing by the park bench. He recognized him immediately and at the same time he noticed the reluctance, the hesitancy in the boy’s stance.
Chad… sorry I didn’t see you coming up.
Yes sir, uh, I brought you your truck, it’s uh all done.
Thank you, can I give you a lift back to the station?
Uh, no, that’s okay I’ll walk back.
Paul looked at the tall young boy from under his eyes. There was no doubting that Chad was a rugged handsome boy who would certainly turn anyone’s head. He had fine outdoor features, a soft tanned glow on his face already despite the grease under one eye. There was something about him that always gave Paul a small thrill. It wasn’t sexual either but more like, well like how he thought a grandparent would feel when seeing their grand son. Yet there was something reserved about Chad that had nagged at him and he could see it now, reflected in the blue eyes that normally shone.
Sure? I mean I have to go back to pay the bill.
Well, uh, if its not out of your way, I guess it’ll be okay.
He had been going to Matt’s garage since moving up to Arnold and Chad had been the gas jockey always attending to filling up the truck, cleaning the windows and checking under the hood. This had been his first service work and for whatever reason Chad seemed nervous suddenly. It wasn’t his usual self confident persona and for a moment or two Paul wondered if something was wrong, when it hit him. Chad was nervous to be alone in the truck with him.
It really didn’t seem possible that this 17 old kid, a star football & basketball player was afraid to be alone with him but that was the look. Paul felt like he was suddenly bathed in a spotlight. He wanted to turn around and see who was watching him, afraid they might all be staring when he knew that no one really was paying any attention, or where they? He felt a strange coldness inside, realizing that despite all the polite chit chat, all the cordial greetings, people still were afraid of him, even the town’s star athlete.
No problem, have to go & pay or they might come and take the truck away.
Huh? No, Matt wouldn’t do that, he knows you are… sorry, guess you were joking huh?
Yeah, not a very good one I suppose.
Paul realized that he was at his driveway without even having noticed the drive back from town. The whole incident with Chad had thrown him and he couldn’t explain it. He had thought that they had accepted him but in that one brief moment he had seen the fear in the boy’s face. He wasn’t sure if it was fear that he would try something or fear of what the boy’s friends would say if they saw him with Paul in his truck. Either way he suddenly felt out of place, felt for the first time since moving up here that he wasn’t really a part of the town nor that he would ever be accepted fully as a part of the local community.
It was a very strange & perplexing feeling really. Back in the city he had never really felt that way and maybe the last time he had felt so isolated, so glaringly different had been when he had been in college. It was when he had come to terms with who he was but now it all came back to him. The uncertainty and fear that someone might discover his secret, might find out that he was gay.
Okay he was younger then and to be honest, no one really seemed all that interested in him or cared whether he was straight or gay. Even back then he had pretty well kept to himself, had made himself invisible really. Once more Mark’s words came back to taunt him because he spent most of his college time either at the library or in his dorm room reading. Not all that he read was for class either but being gay wasn’t exactly something you openly discussed then. It wasn’t like it was now, but then had anything really changed?
He had made no secret of being gay. The papers had all covered that aspect of his life within the first few lines of telling the world of his lottery win. Still he had never looked at it as being a problem until now. Seeing the way Chad had looked or rather had avoided looking at him told him more than any words ever could. The whole drive back to the gas station had been of awkward silence and he had barely stopped the truck before Chad had bolted out the door.
Okay maybe he was reading more into it, after all there was a customer at the pumps still the boy seemed relieved to be out and away from him. Even the owner of the garage looked relieved when Chad went bounding to the pumps. It was like he had been worrying too, wondering if this rich queer might run true to form, run true to the so called image that always made the news, the one about the old man chasing the younger boys.
Paul had taken their acceptance for granted, that was what perhaps irked him the most and scared him too. He was certain there were other gays around, law of averages said there had to be and yet none had shown themselves. None had come out of the mountains or up from the valley to welcome him. For all he knew, he really was the only gay person in the whole area and now it frightened him. Maybe he had made a mistake in coming up here?
His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he could see Chad’s face once more. The way he kept his hands on his lap, the way he avoided looking directly at Paul. It all fit now and he hated the feeling it gave him. It was like somehow he was dirty, like he had some terrible illness that Chad was afraid of catching. It brought back memories of the 50’s and 60’s that had played out on television when he was a kid. The way white men would look at black men.
The way they had that look of mistrust, of disdain even had always surprised him. The way that black men had stared back had always made him uncomfortable too. Now he recognized that look, for it was the same look that Chad had on his face. It was one of fear, one of hatred too but not for the same reasons as back then. Now it was hatred for something beyond just a colour of skin. Paul shivered a little at the realization that people could feel hatred for him simply because he was different.
All sorts of weird thoughts had passed thru his mind as he had driven home. He never really had been a victim of bullying or homophobia and so in some ways this was kind of a shock to his system. Back in San Francisco there had been people who would stare at two guys walking hand in hand but that was generally the worst of it. It was normal to see guys kissing in the park or holding hands. To him his entire adult life had been sheltered from the rest of the world. To him he had matured as a gay man in a city that was gay friendly, far more gay friendly than any other but he had seen those looks there too.
Paul hadn’t thought that he had given anyone, least of all Chad, any reason to assume he was some deviant. It wasn’t like he had gone around in bright rainbow coloured outfits or talked in a high pitched feminine voice either. So why the fear of him? Why did the owner of the garage appear so relieved only after Chad had left the truck? He knew the answer was simply that they didn’t know any better. They had bought into the frothing of the religious right, had bought into the media hype that always brought out the worst of any group when one had done wrong.
It really was no different today than it had been 50 years ago. He could still recall the angry words from politicians and from men of god when a black man had been caught with a white girl. The vile hatred that had spewed out of their mouths then was no different than now. Only difference was that instead of ‘black’ put in ‘gay’ or ‘homosexual’. Paul felt a chill in his bones as he stared at the road ahead.
All sorts of strange notions rushed through his mind as he wheeled the truck into the driveway, barely seeing the road until he turned to come into the clearing in front of the house. He felt a lurch in his heart as his foot went to the brakes to stop the truck from careening into the old pale blue beat up Datsun that was in front of him. His eyes became slightly glazed as he saw the car door open and there he stood, once more surprising him, once more making his heart skip several beats.
Paul sat there for a full minute before he opened the door and stepped out to greet his visitor. The apprehension from his encounter with Chad didn’t disappear, instead it seemed heighten by the sudden appearance of Jock. It was like something had suddenly taken charge over his life, as if some weird force had decided to come and intervene in his quiet self imposed exile.
Jock… this is a surprise…
Hi, uh, I am sorry for uh, for showing up without phoning first.. I didn’t… I mean…
He could feel the anxiety as if it was something physical coming from Jock. Paul ached for the man’s obvious discomfort as his own mind reeled from his sudden appearance. In one way it was like a gift and yet in another it appeared foreboding, as if something horrible was about to befall him.
No, no its fine, I am glad you decided to come up. Uh, nothing is wrong is it?
Huh? Oh, no… no not really, I just… I mean I had no classes this afternoon and I, I uh well, I felt like a drive and well, I sort of wound up here… if its not a good time to visit…
Okay, calm down he tried to tell himself. It wasn’t like Jock had planned this, he had simply found himself in the neighbourhood but even as Paul tried to use that logic he knew it wasn’t true. No one drove that distance by chance. Still it did feel good to see him there despite the fear that was raging inside of him. God why now he thought as he tried to smile, to reassure the man.
It’s fine Jock, this is really a nice surprise… please, come on in… you been waiting long? I mean…
Not really, hour or two I guess.
I am sorry, I didn’t…
My fault, I should have phoned first, but… well I didn’t know I was going to make it up here actually… you sure it’s okay? I don’t want to impose or anything…
No, no imposition at all… come on in.
Walking into the house he could smell the shampoo scent on Jock and also something else, it was a scent of fear really. He wasn’t certain why but it was no different than the smell he had noticed sitting in his truck with Chad on the way back to the garage. He was feeling a bit bewildered by the swift change of fortune and he stumbled a little over the step, and the touch of Jock’s hand on his arm made him shudder.
You okay?
Uh yeah fine, thanks.
He was lying thru his teeth but he tried desperately to hang on. His ankle hurt a bit but the sensation he had gotten from Jock’s firm grip on his arm was still racing up and down inside of him. Paul felt like some damn teenager that had just been touched by the person of his dreams. The fact that it was that didn’t alter that Paul wasn’t 15 or 16 anymore but was 61. How could he feel this way at his age? It didn’t make sense but then nothing was normal today and this was just one more incident to confuse his already troubled thoughts.
He tossed his keys onto the small table by the door and gestured for Jock to go ahead of him. Paul noticed how tentative Jock seemed and once more he was struck by how much he was smitten by the man. His eyes couldn’t seem to get enough of the tall handsome figure and his heart was doing cartwheels inside his chest. He coughed a little as Jock stopped and stared at the wide open living room.
Guess they didn’t do too much damage huh?
Damage? Who.. oh from the party… uh.. no, nothing a good mopping and waxing didn’t take care of.
I wanted to come and help you clean up.
There was a sense of sadness about Jock that made Paul feel apprehensive. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something was troubling Jock. Worse was that it seemed to matter to Paul more than he could fathom. He wished he could just hold him, but he was afraid of scaring him off.
Well, uh, that’s okay, I managed.
I should have.
Why?
I don’t know… you were kind to me that day, and… well I bolted out of here, it wasn’t right.
His own heart was aching from the obvious pain that Jock was feeling. He felt lost a little as he tried to figure out what was on the man’s mind. It hurt that he felt so powerless, so helpless and yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to press, to push for answers. Instead he tried to reassure the man despite his own feelings of apprehension & fear.
I didn’t think you bolted, and I enjoyed the time we spent, you uh.. Jock, you okay? I mean… I know its none of my business but…
I wish it was… sorry, I am a bit… school ends in two weeks, and I guess it’s just finally hitting me.
Yes, end of a term is always tough, you feel so out of place but then before you can get too lost its time to start planning for next term…
Not for me, I can’t find a place, least not for teaching. I did get an offer from a nice restaurant though, so at least I’ll have a job.
He understood the feeling that Jock was experiencing. When teaching was your passion to suddenly be faced with losing it, it took something out of you. Still his mind was rebelling at the surge of compassion welling up from his heart. He could hear the nagging voice of mistrust trying to be heard but his heart was refusing. Jock wasn’t that type, he wasn’t like the others and yet still the voice wouldn’t be silenced totally.
I am sorry, I thought you would find another position.
I thought so too, guess my ex is too much for the school board.
I am sorry for that, what about in a different district?
No, I think maybe a break from teaching isn’t so bad of an idea… sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down. Guess I am just… hell I don’t know what I am.
It’s okay, we all have those kind of days.
Do you?
Yeah, more than I care to admit sometimes.
Strange isn’t it?
What?
I feel like I can tell you anything yet…
Yet what?
Yet… yet even though inside I know I can, I keep stumbling over it.
Well, I don’t bite if that is what worries you.
No, I guess it’s me, I sometimes think I was born in a closet and am too afraid to open the door. Shoot, that didn’t sound right.
Paul had heard that kind of line many times before. It was common and yet hearing it from Jock didn’t make him pull back. He could see that Jock meant it, that he really did feel a sort of connection but that it frightened him. Hell, he had to admit that he too questioned his own feelings that way. It was sort of as if he was seeing a younger version of himself.
He peered closely at the young man standing next to him. There was no mistaking that look in his eyes either. Paul felt the tug on his heart from the way Jock’s eyes seemed so pained, so filled with trepidation and he knew that it had taken a lot of courage for him to just come here. In some ways it was flattering, in other ways it wasn’t.
How had he let himself project such a rigid image of himself? He didn’t think he was, in fact he kind of thought of himself as being rather easy going, flexible really yet he could see the terror in Jock’s face. Okay, part of that was Jock’s inexperience but part was his fault too. It wasn’t that he was mean, just that people mistook his shyness as being aloof.
He sighed a little as he let his body relax. Paul was as nervous as Jock but it was up to him to put the young man at ease. Some instinct inside told him that this was his chance and as much as his mind wanted to slow it down, his heart had managed to gain control. His voice was a bit shaky but he was determined this time around to not let the opportunity slip by.
Actually, I think I know exactly what you mean. It is, well, it’s how I am too I suppose, least if you ask Mr Thayer he’ll say so. I guess we get in a particular comfort zone and are too content to go outside that zone, even though we may want to.
Mark said that about you?
Not in those words but yeah, he thinks I hide behind my books.
Damn, that’s what he said about me. Said I was a bookworm who lived in the books instead of in the real world.
Sounds like typical Mark Thayer off the cuff comment.
He’s right… least about me. I do prefer the books over him or anyone else really, ‘cept for that afternoon when I was here. Guess that’s kind of why I am here.
I don’t follow… I mean, uh look why don’t we sit down? Would you like something to drink? Glass of wine maybe?
Yeah… oh no, I better not. Have to drive and last thing I need is a DUI.
Drive? Oh back to the city?
Yeah.
His mind was shouting warnings right, left, and centre but all Paul could think of was that this was his chance, perhaps his last chance to try and seize the dreams that had haunted him for almost a year now. He couldn’t just acquiesce, not now, not without some effort.
It was scary to think that he would have to say something, that he would have to risk the rejection that his mind was certain would come, but he had to take that chance. He knew that if he didn’t, his nights would become intolerable and worse, that he would wind up locked up in this huge house alone forever.
Why don’t you stay here? I mean it is late and well… I mean… we could have dinner and talk, if you want, that is… I don’t want to push…
I’d like that, I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea, I mean I wanted to come back before, it is just, well… you are rich…
So?
I didn’t want you to think, I mean, well you can have whoever you want and all, I just didn’t want you to think I was… well, what’s the word, uh, gold digger?
There it was out in the open for him to accept, worry about, or ignore. His mind was yelling but the thundering voice from deep inside was louder. He knew deep down inside that whatever Jock might be, a gold digger wasn’t one of them. His mind asked him how he knew and for the life of him he didn’t have an answer other than he just knew it. He could feel it each time he looked at Jock. There was no ulterior motives or guile in the man. He was as he appeared, a tall handsome man who was struggling with just living. It was just how he himself had been, still was in some respects.
I don’t think that.
I am not, I mean… I am not good at this, I don’t know what to say, Mark says I am worried about what people think of me… I am not really, well I am, but only about certain people.. I ramble too… I don’t want to make a bad impression… I think I should go…
It was now or never, he knew that as he saw the frightened and dejected look crossing Jock’s face. His heart skipped a beat as he felt panic at first, then from somewhere long since forgotten he found the courage to stand tall. Paul knew that he couldn’t let it go, that somehow he had to find the words and the voice to give Jock what he needed, to give him the sign that he himself had been searching for.
NO! No please… look I am not good at this either Jock, been a long time since anyone ever got my interest like you have…
Me?
Yes you… I have wanted to call you so many times…
Why didn’t you?
Same reason I guess that you didn’t… sorry that sounded catty… I guess because I was afraid you would be offended by some old geezer chasing after you…
You aren’t old… least you don’t look or act old.
Mark would disagree with you.
Mark isn’t me, and I know there is an age thing, but I don’t know… I feel more alive, no that’s not the word, more free around you. It is like, well, like you can see what I mean beyond what I say… if that makes sense… Christ I feel like I am back in high school.
The way Jock’s jaw grew firm as he crossed Mark’s opinion off into thin air excited him. He hadn’t seen that look before but it made his heart feel warm. It was like there was a whole different person before him in a flash and then just as quickly another appeared. There was once more the hesitant boy, but with a difference this time around. For that split second Paul felt like maybe his heart was right, maybe this time Jock wouldn’t leave.
Haha, funny because that’s how I feel too. Giddy and nervous and scared.
Really? Strange isn’t it?
Sort of, guess part of that is from being a recluse. I suppose in some ways Mark was right, I have hidden behind the books, kind of sounds like you and me share that trait…
Does, doesn’t it?
So, red or white wine?
You sure it’s okay?
He could feel the shift in moods. It was like a weight had suddenly been lifted just a little off both of their shoulders. Paul wasn’t sure where this would go, but inside he knew that he couldn’t relax, that he couldn’t go back to the state of solitude he had imposed on himself without giving it his all. In a strange and frightening way he knew too that Jock had come to that same point, that same cross roads.
I am sure
Red please.
Okay, one red it is, uh, Jock?
Yes?
I am glad you found your way here tonight.
Funny, I was just feeling that way too.
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Story - The Lottery (5)
Table of contents for The Lottery
The Lottery
Part 5
Paul stared out at the people in his living room. His eyes moved along the sprawled figures laying out on the floor as he tried to put things into perspective. The whole night had been one of disappointment and yet relief too. Jock had left shortly after Mark’s arrival and in some ways Paul felt relieved.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted Jock to stay but then he did want to have to sit in the library or anywhere knowing that Mark would be pawing Jock’s young body either. There was no reason for him to feel jealous, after all Jock was Mark’s latest. Still he knew it would eat at him and so when Jock came to say good bye he felt relieved. Still there was something about that farewell that made him think. It was sort of like Jock hadn’t really wanted to leave, but that somehow he had sensed Paul’s reluctance to have him stay.
Funny how he kept having these thoughts about Jock. Granting Jock the ability to have read his mind or know how he was feeling was just bizarre if not downright wishful thinking. How could any man know what he was feeling in such a short time, yet he felt that Jock had. He couldn’t shake that notion and so far the evening had proven to be what he had expected.
Mark had been in rare form, more than likely from some pills he had popped before arriving. Yet there was something about Mark that made Paul wonder if he really knew him. It wasn’t anything specific, just the way he looked or glanced at him now & then. At times Mark Thayer could prove to be most astute but it was a rare occurrence or so Paul thought. Still there was no denying that throughout the evening he would find Mark staring over at him. It was like he knew but how could he? It wasn’t like he was carrying a sign and he had stayed out of the way once the so called guests began arriving.
Looking at the room he felt a bit disgusted. It hadn’t taken long before many of the so called friends were shucking their shirts and while he enjoyed staring at those flat stomachs and bare chests of men in their pride, they just didn’t seem to do much for him in a physical way. It was as if he was merely watching some odd television show or something. It seemed all so pointless to him as he saw men in their prime strutting around with drinks in hand and cigarettes dangling from their mouths as they tried to move in on one or another.
It was a part of gay life that he never quite grew accustomed to. How could anyone parade around in bikini briefs in front of perfect strangers like some of them did? He just couldn’t accept that but then he was smart enough to realize that it also didn’t necessarily define who they were. It was all an act, a show of what he supposed they felt was needed. Maybe it was even a release from the restrictions placed on them by a homophobic society but he cursed himself as his mind tried to make sense out of the blatant exhibitionism.
What did it matter really to him? As long as Jock wasn’t one of them he didn’t really care and from what he had seen, he knew that Jock wasn’t one of them. He doubted very much if Jock would even be the type who would undress in the bright glare of a bedroom light never mind in the full glare and gaze of strangers.
It was a strange scenario really as he stood there thinking about it all. There were some pretty good looking young men, some older some younger than Jock and yet to his minds eye they were no where near the handsome figure that Jock was, fully clothed too. It amazed him that he could feel so calculating about seeing nearly naked men parading around without even a small twinge in his groin, yet the mere thought of seeing Jock would give him a hard on that actually hurt.
Paul knew he loved sex, enjoyed it still despite his 61 years of age and if anything, his European trip showed him that he could still hold his own in that department. Yet knowing it didn’t really seem all that important to him. It wasn’t that he found men less attractive because they had a hard stomach or firm nipples. It didn’t seem to matter too much that they had a cut or uncut penis, or whether it was long or thick or whatever. None of that seemed to really weigh in anymore and even his dreams about Jock didn’t seem to dwell on how well he might or might not be endowed.
He sighed, recalling that smile, the way the rich dark chocolate eyes would shimmer when something pleased him. That is what turned his head, that is what made his heart skip a beat or two. Then too there was the look, the way the head would tilt as he read the spine of a book or how his face would light up and just radiate that made Paul’s heart freeze in utter fascination. All of that made up his dreams, his thoughts of Jock and yet he had spent no more than a few hours in the man’s company. Either he was getting senile or perhaps there really was such a thing as fate, as kismet.
In many ways he found himself comparing Jock to Jason. Both of them had their first names starting with the letter ‘J’ but the similarities seemed to end there. Jason was by far more outgoing than Jock seemed to be. As well he knew that Jason was much more comfortable in being gay than Jock. Perhaps it was that which attracted him to Jock? Jason had been shorter but then he had that same look didn’t he? He had seen flashes of it during his brief time talking to Jock, the way the whole body could suddenly become animated as something caught his fancy or drove his passion. Jason had been like that, a fireball in every sense of the word really.
Strange, he had always been the shy one between the two of them. It had been Jason who had really pursued him in a fashion and when they fought, it hadn’t been about him not standing up. Yet here he was now finding himself drawn to another who felt the shame and guilt of being gay. Paul knew that for the most part he was over his own sense of shame, his own sense of guilt at being so different than the rest of society but there were still remnants left to haunt him. It had happened on his trip and he had faced coming up to Arnold with a lot of trepidation, still he had come here, hadn’t he? So maybe there was hope for Jock too?
A sip of his wine brought him back to the present. His eyes once more moved across the room and he felt a sense of loneliness that he hadn’t really noticed before. He wondered what Jock would be doing now, hell he had been tempted to suggest that Jock call to say he had gotten back to the city safe. Like he was some mother hen or something but somehow it bothered him that he wouldn’t know.
Not really your style is it Paul?
Paul turned to see Mark Thayer standing near him and he wondered how he had missed seeing him coming up. He felt a bit badly because he had deliberately been avoiding engaging in any conversation with Mark since his arrival. It wasn’t that he was angry at him, just that he didn’t want to risk blurting anything out.
No, but you have always known that.
Yeah, suppose so. Guess intimate dinner parties and a seat at the theatre are more your style.
Yes it is, they can be entertaining you know, they aren’t as dull or boring as you make it sound.
No, I guess, but then that just isn’t me, now is it?
He really didn’t feel like discussing this with Mark. Yet there was a strange lilt to Mark’s voice as he had spoken. It was almost wistful in some ways but then more than likely it was simply Mark taunting. He did enjoy doing that at times and he really didn’t feel like getting into it with him. Why couldn’t he just go and enjoy his party instead of having to come and torment him?
That’s for certain. And what happens when you can no longer attract or participate in this type of entertainment, Mark? What then?
I couldn’t say Paul, doubt even if I’ll ever reach the age when that will be something I’ll have to even think about.
Typical Mark he thought. He never really did look beyond the latest fling or next party. All he ever really cared about was who was hot and who could he bed that night. In some ways Mark could pass as the model for that Brian character in Queer As Folk, but then even that character had some redeeming qualities. For the life him, right now Paul just couldn’t think of anything redeeming about Mark’s lifestyle.
It irritated him that here was Mark, with basically it all. He had a good job, made good money and more than that, he had his youth. He had what Paul wished he had in some ways. The self confidence to go out and meet new people and engage them. Mark was a charmer something Paul knew he wasn’t. Still it pissed him off that a guy like Mark could attract someone like Jock and not even realize how much it meant. God he would give anything to be able to reach out to someone like Jock. Mark on the other hand treated it so casually that it really got Paul’s dander up. Now here he was trying to play the poor downtrodden misunderstood queer. God it was enough to make a person puke.
Oh come on, you are healthy, young, what makes you think you won’t reach old age? Eventually we all have to grow up Mark, even you.
It’s not in the genes Paul, you know that. Still it is something I do think about on rare occasions, but what’s the use? Life is what it is, and I merely want to enjoy it now, later, well later can take care of itself then, if and when.
You still on that kick are you?
Kick? No Paul, I know you think of me as being shallow but this isn’t a kick, its being realistic. My family never lives to ripe old ages, for generations now, why should I be any different?
It wasn’t a conversation that was new to Paul yet the way Mark spoke was different than he had ever recalled before. There was a sense of finality about it that troubled him in a strange way. For the most part Mark was right, he did think of him as being a bit shallow, hell a lot actually but then he chalked it up to Mark simply being immature for his age. He never really did give him much credit for having any sense of values or responsibility. It was kind of a shock to think that perhaps there was something after all to Mark Thayer.
I don’t know, seems all a bit fatalistic to me.
You know in your own way you are an eternal optimist Paul, guess its one reason why I like you.
Oh? Is that the reason, and here I thought it was simply you taking pity on an old bald man.
You always were self depreciating Paul, it used to tick me off no end. You just don’t see yourself the way others do, or maybe you just don’t let yourself. You know, you don’t have to be alone all the time, there are nice guys out there.
Paul felt strangely uneasy about how the conversation was going. This wasn’t the Mark Thayer he was used to and yet in all the years that they had known each other, you could count on one hand the serious discussions. To be having such a talk in the middle of one of Mark’s orgies was to say the least, unusual.
It also was unusual and even bizarre for Mark to be so blunt so early. Mark did enjoy getting his digs in but they were usually veiled ones, never quite so blunt. One thing about Mark was he knew how to twist a person’s tail without really getting them too pissed off. He never risked that especially if he felt that person could be of use to him. For him to be this way now was different, it put him at risk, it made him vulnerable and that just wasn’t Mark’s style.
If he had known one thing about Mark it was his innate ability to cover his own ass. He never let himself become vulnerable to attack. Mark was the party boy, the one who always had a good time so this was out of character for him. Maybe he had indeed taken a new drug or something? Paul felt apprehensive as he tried to figure out just what was Mark’s game.
Now you are a councillor on relations? When did you change jobs to being a matchmaker?
Yeah I know, I come across as a whore, maybe in some ways I am. I enjoy random sex, I enjoy the carefree life free of any commitment or so I tell myself, but you are in some ways just as bad. You stand back and refuse to join in the party, so really aren’t you and me really the same?
The notion that he and Mark were the same was not only repugnant to him but it was insulting. His face grew taut and his voice became chilled as he stared blankly at Mark Thayer. For whatever reason he felt that Mark was trying to goad him, and for a brief moment he felt like just smashing his fist into Mark’s face. How dare he compare him to himself? Mark was right, he was a whore and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to commit, it was simply he didn’t know how and even if he did know how he wasn’t interested in it because it would mean having to do something that Mark Thayer never could do. It would mean sharing, it would mean letting someone else be the top dog. Mark would never do that, it just wasn’t in him.
The same? Come on, how can we be similar?
Easy Paul, at the end of the night we still wind up being alone.
Paul felt the blood draining from his face. His cheeks were drawn but Mark’s word stung deeply. He felt like retaliating in some childish fashion. How dare this self proclaimed whore even think they could be the same, have the same motives? It was not only rude but inconsiderate. He regretted ever agreeing to having this party even more so now and yet even as his anger seemed to almost burst free, he had to admit deep down that part of what he had said was true. He did wind up alone most nights, but it was different than Mark.
Okay, he didn’t go out all that much and coming home alone wasn’t because he was picky or too choosey either. He wanted to come home to someone, but it had to be to someone that he cared for, someone that cared back. Mark on the other hand wasn’t interested in that. Instead he was only interested in how good the fuck was, how good the guy could suck him off and please his physical needs. That type of desire, of need would never last and in his opinion could never be the basis for a long term relationship.
So how could he be the same? Okay yes he and Mark perhaps did share the final result, that they both ended up alone, but it was for different reasons. Surely that had to count for something, but then did it? Final analysis was the same in that they did both wind up alone. The realization of that cooled some of his outrage as he stared closer at Mark.
And that bothers you? You are surprising me Mark, I always thought you wanted to be alone, to have no attachments.
Paul noticed the distant look deep down into Mark’s dark green eyes. He had never noticed how the colours changed as you stared at them and yet Mark seemed to be off somewhere else, almost as if he was having this conversation with himself instead of with Paul. It felt very strange really because to him Mark was simply a kid who had yet to grow up. To find out that there was more to the man than his insatiable need to screw every stud under 35 was disconcerting. Yet as Mark stared back at him, Paul could see that somehow his remarks had struck a nerve. He actually thought he saw Mark feel sadden by his comment which wasn’t what one expected from Mark Thayer.
Yes well you of all people should know that looks can be deceiving… I suppose though its fair to say that’s how I want people to think of me, after all it is my image isn’t it?
Yes it is…
Yes… but I always thought you were smarter than that Paul, I thought you could see beyond the image, the persona…
He was suddenly feeling very confused by the turn of events. Was this really Mark Thayer? When did he become so deep, so filled with a greater sense of understanding than anyone could have ever imagined? It just didn’t fit and he had known Mark for some time now. This was new or was it? Paul couldn’t be sure but at the back of his mind he wondered why had he ever stuck with Mark as a friend? Had he somehow seen something but failed to recognize it or had it been wishful thinking?
At times… I mean…
It is okay Paul. I am good at what I do, whether its selling new found millionaires their dream homes or confounding & confusing my friends. I am good at it, but you are right to a point. I don’t want attachments but not for the reason you and everyone else thinks.
Well, yes you are good at what you do Mark, but why hide the real you? And as for why you don’t want attachments, well you do tend to make it rather clear, don’t see how anyone could mistake that.
Mistake it? No, if all you are interested in is a reason that fits your judgement of me and my life. Funny isn’t it Paul? I mean you are the one who has spent a lifetime having a love affair with a piece of paper that supposedly guides our whole country & yet you can’t see beyond the words, just as you can’t see beyond my actions.
Paul stared at Mark with a quizzical look. It had taken him completely by surprise this entire conversation. Yes he didn’t look beyond Mark’s actions, and for a second or two he felt like replying that actions spoke louder than words but there was something in Mark’s tone that made him bite back the angry retort. He wasn’t sure what it was, but somehow he felt on the defensive, as if all he had thought was being assailed. Mark’s reference to the constitution was a prime one, designed to hit him where it hurt and yet in some ways it made sense too. After all, interpreting that relatively small piece of paper was a lifetime vocation for many people over the last 200 odd years. Still it rankled that somehow he had missed something in Mark, and worse that Mark had fully expected him not to have missed it.
Look Mark, let’s not get into a fight tonight, this is your party and…
I suppose, but just for the record, you are wrong about me Paul, I avoid attachments not because I can’t share or can’t be second banana, I avoid them for the same reasons you do. As hard as that is for you to believe, but come on, admit it, that’s what you think of me, that I am just too shallow to play second fiddle, isn’t it?
Okay, since you ask, yes it is how I feel. I mean that is how you act, that is what you have stated so many times that it is like a mantra really.
Funny, it is a mantra, a way of keeping everyone clear, but I thought you could see beyond that. Bet you never knew I had a secret crush for you either.
At first he thought Mark was simply having him on. That whatever drugs he had been doing had made him melancholy or something but the more Mark spoke, the more he began to doubt that. Could Mark be right, could it really be that he missed seeing the real person beneath the façade? After all he was supposed to be astute, well learned in things like intent and all, so how could he of all people have missed all this? It just didn’t seem possible but yet with each word spoken by Mark the doubt only grew inside of him.
It was preposterous for him to really believe that Mark could ever find him attractive or desirable. Hell he was old enough to be his father, so this was just plain nonsense, or was it? Was Mark serious? The look in his eyes said he was but Paul’s mind couldn’t accept it. It had to be just one more devious trick of Marks to try and finagle some cash or favour out of him. That would be more in keeping with the Mark Thayer that he had come to know.
Oh come on, me? Why would the great sex god Mark Thayer have a crush on someone like me? Good lord I am at least 20 years your senior…
So? Since when did age really make a difference in the world of romance Paul? You are the supposed expert there, so you enlighten me… does age matter?
It can, I suppose… but… what is this? I mean why are you looking for a fight with me? You still pissed because my lawyer negotiated on the commission?
No, not at all but I suppose you won’t believe that anymore than you’ll believe I did have a crush on you or that I really would rather have someone steady in my life.
It was incredulous really. How dare Mark call him on this sort of stuff? Mark had never shown any indication that he liked Paul in anyway other than as someone to con into paying for a night out. How could Mark expect him to believe such an obvious bunch of malarkey? No there had to be some ulterior motive to all this bashing and frankly he was getting tired of it. He just wished that he could walk away but this was his house, and walking away wasn’t exactly practical.
Yet even his anger at being called to task on this wasn’t quite enough to stop him from wondering if part of what Mark was saying could be true. After all he did wonder at times why Mark did want him around. They had shared moments together without a group around. They had gone to dinners together or with Tommy, and to be honest they hadn’t been such bad times either. In fact if he was truly honest he had enjoyed himself. Mark could be rather charming when he wanted to be, so why all this now? Could he really be telling the truth or was there some devious plan behind this? Did he want Paul to feel guilty for not doing more for him? Or was it that Mark knew about the gift he had given Tommy? Could that be behind this talk of having a crush on him, of wanting a relationship?
As much as his heart wanted to believe Mark, somehow his mind wouldn’t let him. There were too many instances of Mark’s immaturity or shallowness to let him easily accept all this talk about him and Mark being similar.
You? With someone steady in your life? You are right, I don’t buy that.
I know.
Paul had expected something else, yet the two words spoken with such sadness, such obvious sorrow made him wince. It wasn’t like Mark to feel sorry for himself and yet looking at him, he could see that it did.
Why? Why should I? I mean come on Mark, why if that is what you really want do you do everything possible to keep that type or person away? You push them out of your life so fast their heads swim… so if you really mean that… then…
Then why? I told you why, my history Paul. No one, I mean no one in my family has lived beyond 62 years of age… and that’s going back several generations… so no, why should I ask anyone to sign up for a life with me when that life is so short? How can I ask anyone to fall for me, to make me the centre of their life when it won’t last more than a decade or two at best?
Come on… that’s not so. How do you… I mean…
You know my family, no one has lived beyond 63, and in fact most never made it much beyond 55, that means I may have less than 20 years to go, so is that fair? Would you ask someone to be a part of your life if you knew with relative certainty that in less than 20 years you would be dead? Would you Paul?
No, perhaps not, but Mark you don’t know that, I mean it isn’t 100% certain. Granted, it doesn’t look great but still…
Still I should take that risk? Fine if it only affected me, but what about that special person Paul? I see how you are, how come at age 61 you aren’t out there looking for your Mr. Right?
That’s different, I am 61 not 39.
True and less than 3 of my family ever reached 60 never mind 61.
Mark… I never… I mean..
Told you Paul, we are very much alike. You and I, we both don’t really want that special one..
It felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. Mark really was serious about all this and worse, he was right too about him. He didn’t go out searching for his special one for that very reason. He had lived long after Jason had passed away and he hated the feeling. The regrets that filled his thoughts when he tried not to let them, the pain that would attack him when he least expected. Yes, Mark was right he didn’t get up off that beach to go chase Jock because deep down he didn’t believe he had anything to offer him.
How could he go chasing someone like Jock when his time on this planet was indeed short? How could he expect to leave someone alone after only just getting to know them, just beginning to feel the love strengthen? No Mark was right on that score, he didn’t go chasing because he couldn’t bring himself to hurt them. How could he love someone and then knowingly cause them such pain in such a short span of time?
You are forgetting Jason.
No, I am not, you are though. From all accounts he is a perfect example of what I am saying. Look at you, how many years has it been Paul? Fifteen or twenty? So no, I am not forgetting Jason, I am remembering him which is why all this. I don’t want someone I care about to go through the rest of their life missing me like you miss him.
He had to say that Mark was being persistent. There was no denying that for whatever reason he was risking a lot by saying all this. He had to know that Paul wasn’t thrilled with him so to pursue this was almost, well almost like a final throw of the dice. What was the saying? Oh right, there is nothing so free as one who has nothing left to lose. Mark was acting like he had lost it all and for the life of him, Paul couldn’t understand why.
Twenty but that is different. I live a good life, I have my interests. It isn’t like I am holed up in my apartment or something.
No? Let me see, you move way out here after winning a fortune, if that isn’t hiding out by yourself, what is? Think about it Paul, when you didn’t have the money what did you do? You went out for the occasional dinner or show, the odd concert maybe but for the most part you stayed home and read a book or watched a movie. You know, you and Jock should get together, he’s so much like you its scary really.
It was unreasonable to feel this way but Paul felt like he wanted to throttle Mark. To bring Jock up was like placing the red flag in front of the bull and Paul was in no mood to dance around now. He felt like simply charging in. He couldn’t explain the overwhelming urge to rush to Jock’s defence when really, he knew little about him.
Okay the guy liked books, was enamoured by them it seemed in the same way that he was. How could that be so wrong and why should Mark be trying to make out like it was wrong to enjoy solitude with a good book for company? Not everyone was out to suck dick or screw. Maybe the real problem was Mark wasn’t getting what he wanted.
Perhaps Mark felt like Jock wasn’t complying like one of his loyal subjects. Whatever the reason Paul felt strangely protective of the young man. Even if the guy hadn’t haunted his dreams for almost a year, it wasn’t fair or right of Mark to try and judge him that way. Jock was obviously coming off a terrible divorce. How would anyone react under that kind of stress and now possibly losing his job in his chosen profession? Damn, why couldn’t Mark show some damn compassion instead it was always about him, about his needs or wants. He just didn’t understand that people like Jock were special. They needed nurturing not bullying.
Jock? Come on, he’s young, he goes out I am sure, after all he is with you. How can you say that about him? Hell if he was my friend I’d sure as hell not treat him like some errand boy. Besides I moved up here to relax, to enjoy nature and the peace it gives me. It doesn’t mean I won’t be going to the city or wherever.
No, you and Jock are the same. He’s just a younger version of you Paul. As much as you might not like to hear it, you are old and what’s worse Paul, you act like it. And before you get all huffy, I mean it in the way that you act it. I don’t care if you are 61 or 81 really, because for all the time I have known you, you have always acted like a man nearing his 100th birthday. You just don’t go out and have fun.
You make it hard for someone to like you Mark, that isn’t a nice think to say.
So shoot me Paul, but you know in your heart it’s the truth.
I don’t act old, I act my age.
Bullshit, you act old, like all you are doing is marking time.
Just because my interests aren’t yours, simply because I might enjoy reading a book more than I do running around half naked with a bunch of drugged out sluts doesn’t make me old or mean I am merely marking time.
No, true it doesn’t but when reading that good book isn’t for the entertainment value but is more of a retreat from what is out there, more of an excuse for not being out there then yeah, its just marking time.
I don’t do that.
No? Then tell me something.
What?
Why did you let him go?
Let him go? Who? What are you talking about?
Jock.
He didn’t know what to say to that and Mark knew it. He just stared at Paul for a minute or two then turned and headed back to the milling group of naked and near naked studs that were laying about on the hardwood floors. Paul just watched as Mark moved over to where two young blondes where caressing each other. Paul just stood there watching as Mark began to massage one’s inner thigh, his hands moving but as he watched him, Paul could see that it was all reflex. There was nothing sensual or even emotional about it. It was just mechanical in nature.
Paul didn’t know how long he stood there watching Mark work on first one then the other but as he stared out at him, he felt strangely saddened. It made sense, too much sense really and as much as he wanted to believe that Mark’s attacks were nothing but a ploy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that what Mark had told him had been real, had been the truth.
As he saw Mark finally wiggling out of his pants he headed off to the library. He had seen enough naked groping men for one night and thankfully they’d all be gone by mid afternoon. He’d more than likely have to spend the rest of the day and next cleaning but at least it would be over. He doubted if he’d see Mark anytime soon but as he thought that, he felt sad.
Closing the library door on the club music echoing from his living room Paul stared around the large cavernous room. He knew it would look better once he added more books to the shelves, but he was in no rush. His eyes moved over to where Jock had stood, and he could see him holding the book. The look of pure joy etched across his face was something that lifted his heart up. Still, the idea that at the end of it all, Mark had been right. Jock was back at his place and he was here, alone again just as Mark said.
As much as he wanted to just forget all that Mark had said, he couldn’t. Every time he tried to think back to how good the afternoon had felt, there would come Mark’s accusations, his tone, his inflection, his damn sorrowful green eyes. Paul walked aimlessly around the room, his hand brushing up against some of the books, trying to gain the comfort they always had given him but for some reason, this time it failed to move him. The mere touch of his favourite books in leather didn’t even stop the torrent of self doubts that kept assailing his aching spirits.
Finally he moved towards the chairs and sat down. He stared at the empty fireplace and wondered what it would feel like to have someone next to him, to be able to turn and stare at the bent head of another person reading. Of course he wished it would be Jock, but now there was also the image of Mark. He knew that would never work out, but it felt rather awkward to even think that Mark had thought of him that way.
How could he have missed all that? It burned inside him as he tried to figure out if Mark was merely trying to weasel something or if he was sincere, a word one rarely associated with Mark Thayer. Still, in his heart he knew that Mark wasn’t a bad person. Even Jock had alluded to how Mark had literally saved his ass, which still intrigued his thoughts. Then too there was the simple fact that Mark wanted Jock, and to Paul’s surprise he hadn’t had him, least not fully or in the complete sense of the meaning. That too was something he needed to think about as the night wore on.
Sitting there, he felt strangely apprehensive. It was as if somehow he was being confronted with a major problem or decision really. He hadn’t liked what Mark had said but to be fair, a lot of it was true. He didn’t go out and seek someone for fear of leaving them, and he was certain that had been part of the reason for his inertia when he first spotted Jock. Trouble was, in being honest with himself, it was only one reason but not the whole reason. Damn Mark he thought, because now he would most certainly lay tossing and turning trying to figure this all out. Why couldn’t he have kept to form? Why did he have to spring this on him now?
He turned to look at the picture over on the mantle. If only Jason hadn’t left, if only…
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