by Jamie Knight
“It means I did what I thought I could do at the time to help her.”
“Aren’t you mad at her?” I ask.
I lean in closer to him. The blonde college girls have spotted me and giggle and point. I don’t know if they recognize me from MMA fights, they’ve seen or if they just think I’m hot.
It doesn’t matter, though, because I don’t want any of them. I’ve still got Amanda on the brain, even though she wouldn’t know it, because I’ve been avoiding her, like the big idiot I am.
“Not really,” he says. “Or even when I am, it doesn’t seem to help.”
“That’s fucked up, man,” I say again. I lean back against the booth. “Geez. Thanks for the big pep talk. Now I’m even more depressed.”
“My point is,” he says, “is that maybe it’s not a bad thing for you to reconsider Texas and your own mom. You know I have resources through Dr. Mack, to help with depression and other issues vets face, so I’m not even going to push any of that on you since it’s not wanted. I just think that maybe this Amanda thing could be a good opportunity. When Anne told me that Amanda had told him what the issue was, I immediately thought it had something to do with your mom, so I wanted to talk to you about it because I don’t think you should let that hold you back from going to Texas with Amanda.”
“No way,” I say. “I am not going to Odessa with Amanda.”
“OK,” Damien says. “Suit yourself.”
I say nothing and look around.
I see lots of people enjoying themselves. Life ain’t so bad, really, I’m just in a funk and need to get out of it. Plus, I got Rexie, and Damien, and even Amanda.
I sigh.
“OK, I’ll think about doing it.”
“Do what?” Damien asks and motions to Matt to come over to our table.
“I’ll think about going to Texas,” I say and finish my beer.
How many times was I going to tell myself I’d think about it? I know that isn’t really saying anything at all. It’s just as much commitment about the whole matter as I can give.
“That’s your decision,” Damien says.
Matt comes back over.
“Another round is coming over, courtesy of those young ladies,” he says, and motions with his chin towards the bar.
Almost a bronze medal, I think to myself. Well, almost a bronze is a thousand times better than never rejoining the game at all.
And here this hot gay guy has accomplished more than most of the straight asshole dudes I know.
It’s time to reconsider who and what is masculine, and who and what is not.
Damien and I nod to the girls to thank them for the drinks. Damien waves and nods at them but I shake my head as if to say, “Sorry, girls, I’m spoken for.”
And I really hope I am. Because even though I’ve told Damien I’d think about going to Texas with Amanda, I’m not sure if she’ll want anything to do with me now that I’ve been avoiding her.
Chapter 16 - Lincoln
I felt a little better about things when I came home last night, but now as I awake in the clear dawn, I’m beginning to doubt myself again.
I roll over with no plan of getting out of bed when I hear this breathy panting.
I turn on my other side and there’s Rexie panting, with a big smile on his face.
“Give me a minute, boy,” I say.
I reach out to pat him, close my eyes, then withdraw my hand.
I then feel his big snout pushing at my hand. I reach out and pat him again and withdraw.
But apparently, it’s not enough. Rexie backs up, stands on all fours, leans against the bed and wags his tail.
He barks at my face and nudges my head with his wet snout.
“OK, OK,” I say.
He’s telling that he has to go out.
I figure I’ll let him out and then go back to bed.
I open the back door and let him out, but he just stands there looking at me on the back porch.
“Go to the bathroom!” I command him.
Rexie still wags his tail and smiles at me in his big panting way.
I approach him with my hands on my hips. I have no time for this. Here I am in my thin boxers with my dick half hanging out and no shirt on. I hope the neighbors don’t see me, but then part of me says who the fuck cares?
The way I’m feeling lately is that if I feel like pulling my schlong out and if bitter Mrs. Fordham wants to call the cops on me for public exposure, then go right ahead.
She’d probably like to see my schlong and big balls. It’s probably more action than that nosy, frustrated neighbor of mine would have had in years.
I walk up to Rexie and he jumps up, places his paws on my shoulders, and just looks at me.
“What’s wrong, bud?” I ask him.
He pants, wags his tail, and whines.
“OK,” I say. “You wanna go for a walk?”
Instantly he drops to the ground and wags his tail so violently that his butt shakes back and forth. It’s snowing and I’m freezing cold in my boxers but I didn’t give a shit. Now that Rexie wants a walk, though, I know I’d better go change.
I go into the bedroom and put on a pair of sweatpants and my snow boots, and I wrap myself up in a big hoodie I only wear in the winter.
Maybe a walk with my rescue dog is exactly what I need.
I put Rexie’s harness on him. He squirms away from me as I do so.
“I don’t get it,” I say and look at him. “You want to go for a walk but are being a bitch about it.”
He whines and cries and lets me harness him.
“Come on.”
I lead him out the gate and down the drive and walk at a fast clip.
As we walk away, I hear Mrs. Fordham’s screen door bang on her back porch.
She mutters something unintelligible and I just laugh.
Why be so miserable when life has so much to offer?
I guess she’s never found her passion.
It’s early, but the sun is bright, the sky blue with puffy clouds. The air smells crisp. It’s cold out, like it always is this time of year in New York.
It’s a good thing Rexie got me up. Somehow, he knows that I need to get up and out.
I’ve been discouraged because I can’t run, and that bothers me. My agility is hampered to such an extent that I worry I won’t ever be able to fight again.
But one step at a time.
Quite literally.
When we come back, I feed Rexie, get changed again, and head to the gym to work out.
The usual gang is there, chatting and gossiping. I want none of it. I’m a beast and I keep to myself.
And I begin to think seriously about fighting again.
It would take some time, but I could do it.
I know Amanda wouldn’t approve, even though she also wouldn’t say anything. She’s sweet like that and doesn’t try to meddle.
I shower at the gym and get dressed and get into the car. I know I’ve been putting off the inevitable but it’s time to try to talk to her. I’m afraid of being shot down but I also don’t want to miss my chance to stay in her life.
I text Amanda and ask if I could take her out tonight.
She immediately texts me back.
“No, but u can come to my place.”
“OK,” I text back.
I drive back home and smile. Life is good all of a sudden, even though I’m kind of annoyed at my wild mood swings. At least there’s a clear reason for this one, though.
I’m going to see my girl tonight. If she’s my girl. If she’s still my girl.
I don’t know what we were or are. But I like the fact that she agreed to see me – that means we still have the potential to be something and I want to stop wasting that potential.
Chapter 17 - Lincoln
I drive over to Amanda’s place, and I start thinking about how serious I am about this girl.
I mean, I like her a lot, but what mes
sage does it send that I’m going to Odessa with her? I don’t even want to see my own mother, so I really need to pull back, or else she might think I’m a huge softie. Still, I don’t want her to think I don’t care.
I stop at Hung’s Chinese Kitchen. They have the best food around. I order a big bowl of wanton soup with extra water chestnuts, eggrolls, pork strips, chicken Chop Suey, and some white rice.
I make sure I order enough since Amanda mentioned that her roommate Margie is home and I want to have enough for her as well. She’s Anne’s sister so I want to make sure she’s happy, because Anne is really cool and I’m glad she talked to Damien for me or else maybe I wouldn’t be able to see Amanda again right now.
I pull up and take the big brown bag of Chinese food out and ring the doorbell. I hear muffled voices behind the door arguing.
The door opens.
“Hi,” Amanda says.
“Hi,” I say.
Margie pushes her way from behind the door and pauses. She gives me one big look-over, adjusts her glasses, and turns to Amanda.
“I guess he’ll keep,” she says and darts down the stairs.
I watch her walk away.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Amanda says.
She grabs my arm and pulls me into the house.
“Geez,” I say aloud and run my hand through my hair.
I’ve had serious opponents, but none as tough as her.
Amanda tightens her grip on my biceps leads me over to couch.
“Sit down,” she says, and disappears into the kitchen.
No matter what I do, I think to myself, nothing for no one ain’t ever going to be good enough.
Amanda comes back out with two plates of food and we start to eat.
“Don’t worry about Margie,” she says. “She’s harmless.”
I say nothing. I mean, I feel kind of guilty and maybe Margie senses that I’m truly the impostor she thinks I am.
“So, you’ve never really told me about what happened?”
I look up as I’m about to shove a chopstick-full load of white rice into my mouth.
“About what?”
“About you, about your life.”
“Oh,” I say and emit a sigh of relief.
I guess my guilt is getting to me.
“Tell me about your childhood,” Amanda says and laughs.
“Well,” I begin.
I place my plate on the table and lean back and start thinking.
The years roll back and by, and I see myself as that hurt little kid whose father hated him and whose mother would do anything to hold onto a man even if it meant abusing her own kids to satisfy his sick fucking perverted pleasures.
My mother was a total fuck up.
It’s no wonder I don’t want to see her sorry, pathetic ass.
Anything for a guy. Wow, what some women will do just to hold onto some fuckin’ loser guy.
And the guys my mother was with, my father included, were just that.
Fuckin’ losers.
And my mother was too.
And, I’m sure, still is.
My younger brother and sister ended up on foster care before me, and I consider them the lucky ones.
I’m lucky they got out unscathed.
I feel proud about that.
I guess you could say I took it for the team.
“My dad left us,” I say to Amanda. “And my mom tried to get him to stay.”
Amanda places her plate on the table and sits on her feet as she snuggles into the corner of the sofa.
“Yes.”
“It was pretty ugly. All I remember are these scenes of my mother’s desperation.”
I explain it all to her. My father would return once in a while when drunk to fuck my mother and, as he left, she’d be a bawling mess and grabbing onto him as he walked out the door.
“Don’t leave me, Jim! Don’t leave me!” she’d cry.
“Fuck you, you whore!” he’d yell back as he got into his brand-new pickup and drove off.
(Yeah, he could buy a brand-new truck and not support his own fuckin’ kids.)
My mother would collapse onto the floor and sob.
It was all I could do to get her to bed.
“Oh, you poor baby,” she says and moves over and rubs my thigh.
She takes my hand in hers, and I continue.
My mother had always drunk, but it reached a point where it became excessive. She never went to work, drank all day, and whored all night. Soon the booze turned into crystal meth on top of the alcohol. She was a complete mess.
Amanda squeezes my hand, and I’ve never opened up to anyone like this before, but I keep going. I need to get all of this out of me.
My grandmother would come over and yell at my mother to get her act together, and it was just so hurtful to see it all. My grandmother was a tough woman who took nobody’s shit, and my brother, sister and I feared but respected her. She got my brother and sister out of foster care and they went to live with her. My grandmother had money, and my brother and sister went to private schools and had nothing to do with me or my mother
I, on the other hand, refused to abandon my mother.
Until that one night.
Earlier that day, I had come home from school and was doing my homework. I started paying attention at school because I figured if I was smart like my brother and sister then they would talk to me again. Dr. Phil droned on in the background when the door to the dingy apartment opened.
It was my grandmother.
“Hello, Lincoln,” she said.
I stood up and went over to her.
She hugged and kissed me and cried.
“Here,” she said. “I brought you this.”
She had brought me a chicken salad sandwich with chips and pickles.
“I don’t want you to go hungry,” she said and wiped her eyes.
“Thank you, Grandma,” I said and hugged her again.
I felt happy.
I don’t know what she sensed at that moment, but she leaned down, held my chin between her fingers, and directed me to look at her.
“Anytime you need to,” she said. “Anytime you need me, call me and I’ll come pick you up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“Just remember,” she said and turned to leave.
I opened the bag up and looked up to thank her but, when I did so, she had vanished.
I woke up in the middle of the night to laughing and crashing sounds.
My mother was home and with some guy.
I heard my mother fixing drinks in the kitchen and then I fell back asleep.
When I awoke, my mother was sitting on my bed.
“Lincoln,” she said. “I want you to meet Mommy’s friend.”
“I don’t want to,” I said.
“Well, he sure wants to meet you,” she said and laughed in her wheezy, smoke-ridden way and then coughed and choked.
I knew what was up.
“C’mon,” she said. “Do it for Mama. I’ll buy you something extra.”
Just then her “friend” appeared in the doorway.
“Hi, Lincoln,” he said. “I’m Luke.”
He was a cowboy type with the hat and all. He started unbuttoning his denim snap shirt.
I sat up in bed and looked from him to my mother.
“Go fix me another drink, Candy,” Luke said. “The least you could do is serve me as your guest. That crystal ain’t gonna pay for itself.”
“Alright, baby,” she said, and went back out into the kitchen.
“C’mon, Lincoln,” Luke said. “It’s just a game. We’ll all have fun.”
By then Luke’s shirt was off and he rubbed his hairy pecs up and down.
“We gonna have some fun, you and me, boy,” he said
He grabbed my hand and rubbed his chest with it.
“That sure feels
good,” he said in a low breathy way.
I pulled my hand away.
“That’s not how this game is gonna be played, little boy!” he said and stood up.
“Fuck you!” I screamed.
Luke pinned me down and laughed.
“You ain’t got the strength, you little jerk!” he said. “You know you want me!”
I struggled and struggled but he pinned me down with his left forearm. But then I reached up with my arm and punched him, hard. He was right in front of me and I bit his dick through the pants he was wearing, even harder.
“Oww!” he screamed and snapped up. “You little bitch!”
I ran out the bedroom door in only my pajamas.
I guess that was when my fighting career really started. That night, I was determined to fight off anyone who tried to hurt me, and I did.
I heard scuffling and yells from behind me. I grabbed the cordless phone from its base and ran outside.
I knew I had only a certain distance, but I called my grandmother and told her to come get me.
I threw the cordless phone into a dumpster and ran toward my grandmother’s.
The car pulled up and stopped. My grandmother rolled down the back window, opened the door, and let me in.
“We’re going home,” she said.
After that, I tried not to speak to my mom again. Sure, there were a few times she popped back into my life, claiming she wanted to hang with her son, but it turned out to be because she needed money. As soon as she had some, she’d be back on the streets, ignoring me.
So I tried not to see her. And going to where she lived in Texas sounded like the worst place in the world to go to me. Even though I wanted to go wherever Amanda was.
Chapter 18 - Lincoln
That was the end of my story. When I finish telling it, Amanda’s mouth is hanging open.
“Okay, well now I can totally see why you don’t want to go back to Texas,” she says. “I’m really sorry for trying to push you to go there.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I know you just wanted me to spend Christmas and New Year’s with you and meet your family. And that’s pretty sweet.”
“Yeah, and when I said all families have problems, well, in mine, my dad always falls asleep when we try to watch movies, and my brother and mother bicker over what they should watch once he does. I feel bad for accidentally trivializing your issues. We don’t have to go to Odessa. We could just stay here for Christmas and New Year’s.”