by Clancy Nacht
The car felt solid and powerful, much like its owner. When Forrest turned the key, the rumble of the engine provoked a dirty grin from Edwin.
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
Forrest laughed as he put the car into gear. “The Golden Hawk’s got a pretty good purr herself.”
He drove them toward North Austin. On the way, other Mustang owners waved to Forrest and Edwin, a friendly in-the-club gesture. Forrest rattled off the names of the owners when they passed.
“We have a meet-up every year. Check out each other’s cars, have a couple of beers, and compare notes. It’s a good time.”
Soon they arrived at a vast lot filled with shiny cars with open hoods. A few exhibitors had put out tents, but for the most part, everyone was sweating it out in the heat. Along one side stood a row of food vendors, and on the other side were portable toilets.
Forrest pulled up to the parking area, paid, and was waved through. One of the attendants, catching sight of the car, directed Forrest to park nearest the show so people could admire.
“How about that! Looks like your girl gets you where you want to be.” Edwin slapped the dashboard in excitement as a proud grin took control of his face.
He’d wanted to join a car club when he acquired the Golden Hawk years ago, but he’d been too anxious to try. In Texas, being gay wasn’t a recipe for acceptance into such bastions of machismo.
No one here would treat him like he didn’t belong. Forrest wouldn’t let them.
Edwin climbed out of the car and uncapped his thermos. He poured some tea into the lid and sipped it, enjoying the warm drink despite the Southern swelter. He walked around the car to Forrest’s side, standing perhaps a bit too close as he offered it to him.
“You wanna get to the front of the line, take a sexy lady with you.” He patted the roof of his car affectionately, then wadded the front of his tank and rubbed his fingerprints off the paint. “And there ain’t no lady sexier than my Betty here.”
Edwin tore his gaze from Forrest’s casually exposed abs, glancing at Betty, then across the lot to a stunningly restored Sting Ray.
“Mhm, she’s a beauty. So. Let’s ah…” Gesturing in the general direction of the nearest exhibitor, Edwin started walking as much to avoid the desire to touch Forrest’s skin as because he wanted to look at cars.
When he looked back to see if Forrest was following, he couldn’t help giving him a secretive, hooded-eyed smile as he took in that confident stride. The way Forrest looked when he was in his element blew Edwin’s mind. When Edwin reached the tent, he stopped to wait in the shade for his companion, trying not to eye-fuck him too obnoxiously.
It wasn’t a date after all.
He had to remind himself that he didn’t want it to be a date. They were going to be friends, it would be simple, and he’d go home to mope at Frannie and his pictures of Howard.
Forrest groaned as he joined him. “Aww, Edwin, I thought you’d have better taste than this Chevy scum.”
Edwin looked at Forrest and then at the owner of the Corvette, a rangy, dirty man with a shaggy mustache and curly hair tucked under a Chevrolet baseball cap. The man stood and lumbered over to Forrest. He spit on the ground in front of him and said, “Ford.”
“Them’s fightin’ words.” Forrest sported a wry grin.
“I’ll kick your ass, you son of a bitch!” The man stood a full head shorter than Forrest, but that didn’t stop him from trying to shove him.
Forrest caught his footing easily. He grabbed the man’s hat and tossed it into the car. “My ass is all you can reach, shorty.”
The man covered his balding head with one hand and reached into the car for his hat with the other. “You’re an asshole, James.”
“Takes one to know one, Smith.” Forrest smirked. “You pushed me.”
Smith retrieved his hat and settled it in place. “Tryin’ to show your friend there what a real man likes.”
“Dunno when real men started pushing like a girl.”
Smith shot Forrest a narrow-eyed look. “You’re one to talk.”
Forrest cleared his throat. “Anyway, Edwin Blais, this is Jim Smith. He’s got a shop up the street. He keeps showing off his rust bucket like we’re all supposed to be impressed.”
Edwin laughed at the pair, looking back and forth between them before stepping forward to look at the car. He circled her and leaned over the big block engine, inspecting the parts and running them down against a mental catalog of originals.
“You have the factory air? That’s gotta be fantastic in this climate and hard to find original. This wiring harness isn’t original, though. Looks like you’ve got everything else spot-on. Shame to let a little thing like that keep you from perfection, especially if you’re going to pop the hood in public. Don’t want to shame the pretty lady, do you?”
He wrinkled his nose at Smith’s surprised look. No one ever expected the homosexual to know about cars, but Edwin was a historian and classic cars were an important part of midcentury American economy and culture.
“You can get one from my guy for half what you’d pay on eBay. Can’t let Ford here show you up, Chevy. You gotta represent. Forrest can give you my guy’s number later, if you stay on his good side. I’m a Studebaker guy, which makes me above this conflict.”
Smith looked at Edwin and back at Forrest, then punched Forrest in the arm. “I like this one. You been hiding him from us?”
“Only known him a few weeks.” Forrest blushed and shot Edwin a look. “Thought some things were personal and private, especially the number to your guy, Edwin.”
Edwin stifled a frown at the words. He’d only meant to play around, but maybe he’d crossed a line. He didn’t really know how gatherings like this were supposed to go.
Looking at the Sting Ray instead of the other men, he said, “Well, Jim, your loss. If Forrest won’t cough it up, I’m not going to.”
Forrest put his arm around Edwin’s shoulders. “See that? This is a good man right here.”
Smith rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what kinda good he is to me. Mocking my car, siding with Ford…”
“He knows you need some serious help. You Chevy boys always do.” Forrest squeezed Edwin’s shoulders. “It’s all right. I was just joking. Give him your guy. We won’t be in competition for parts, ’cause I drive a great car, and he drives this sad little thing.”
Edwin had frozen at Forrest’s arm around his shoulders, but once he was sure it wasn’t condescending, he relaxed and knocked his head against Forrest’s affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. Betty’s a zillion times better. The Golden Hawk shows ’em both up, but I don’t suppose she’s flashy enough for you types.”
Careful not to shift away from Forrest’s arm, Edwin fished in the pockets of his cargo shorts until he found the billfold with business cards in it. He withdrew the one for his junkyard and offered it to Jim. “You can tell him Dr. Blais sent you, assuming you don’t upset Forrest, in which case I will blacken your name to him.”
“Oh, and he’s a doctor.” Smith laughed. “I dunno if you can blacken my name more than I already done, but you’re sure as shit welcome to try.”
The man punched Edwin in the shoulder, harder than Forrest ever did, but Edwin didn’t feel threatened.
Smith squinted. “Yeah, I reckon this guy’s all right, Forrest. Has better taste ’n you. Golden Hawk, shit.”
Forrest gave Edwin one last squeeze and then let him go. “Yeah, Dr. Blais is a little fancy for us types.”
“Yeah, I see it.” Smith smirked at Edwin. “So what’s he a doctor of, proctology?”
Edwin froze, stomach plummeting as he braced for the inevitable gay jokes.
Forrest winked at Edwin and then gave Smith a warning shove to behave. “Why, you looking to get fingered? No, he’s one of those doctors of learning. History professor.”
Smith gave Edwin a more appreciative look. “What, like World War II and shit? You one of them Civil War people?”
Being forced to talk about himself put Edwin ill at ease. He drank some tea and then folded his arms over his bony chest, feeling skinny and effeminate beside the other two.
“I specialize in the ancient world, most especially the pre-Christian Mediterranean, but I love all military history. I would’ve been glad to serve my country if it would’ve had me.” Edwin gave Smith a faint smile, but he couldn’t keep his gaze off Forrest, glancing at him sidelong as he spoke. “My opinions on war rarely go over well, however, so it’s likely best I keep them to the classroom and the distant past. Are you a history buff, Mr. Smith?”
Smith stood a little taller, chest puffed out. “Oh yeah, I watch the History Channel all day sometimes. I find it interestin’. Dunno about pre-Christian, though. I like seein’ the wars and all that plannin’.”
Forrest was watching Edwin with a slight frown like he could sense the unease. “It’s getting mighty bright out there. If we want to get through the show before the mob comes, we should get movin’.”
“Yeah, yeah. You better git before your Ford buddies see you here and think you got some taste.” Smith waved them off. “Nice meetin’ you, Doc. Thanks for the hookup.”
Edwin was grateful Forrest understood. As nice as people could be, socializing wasn’t something Edwin did anymore, unless one counted Forrest. Edwin didn’t; Forrest was the exception to everything. Finding Forrest had been like finding family he hadn’t known he had.
He gave Smith a parting smile and resisted the urge to hold Forrest’s hand as they walked through the slowly thickening crowd toward a Duesenberg. It was a beautiful machine, made before the Second World War, and lovely in the way that only very old things ever seemed to be.
Nudging Forrest with his elbow, Edwin gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Wish I was aging half as well.”
“You got nothing to worry about.” Forrest patted Edwin’s back lightly, then let his hand rest there, friendly bordering on possessive. He’d leaned in to say something else when a man about the age of Edwin’s students walked up.
He was well-groomed, with close-cropped black hair and a baby face. He wore plaid shorts and a T-shirt that looked too tight for comfort. Edwin tried to remember if he’d seen this young man in his class but then noticed his gaze was fixed on Forrest.
And Forrest was staring back, frowning. He curled his fingers into Edwin’s shirt as the young man approached.
“There you are, Forrest. I heard about this car thingy and thought I might find you here.” The young man slipped his arms around Forrest’s waist and gave him a kiss, seeming oblivious to the groans of disgust around them. “I missed you, baby. You keep bailing on me. I’m starting to take it personally.”
Forrest’s face was bright red. He squirmed away.
The young man waved his hand to cut Forrest off and then eyed Edwin. “Oh, is this your new friend? Didn’t know you were into daddies, babe. Anyway, hello, I’m Corey. I’m Forrest’s…friend.”
Corey held out his hand, but his smile looked more like he was gritting his teeth.
Edwin looked at Forrest in bewilderment, taking in his blush before looking around at the crowd. Some nearby parents had shielded their children’s eyes and were steering them away, glaring daggers at the three men. Edwin felt exposed, as if one of the behemoths in cowboy boots tromping around poking at old trucks might try to punch him.
It felt like he’d stepped into an alternate universe. His brain wouldn’t process it quickly enough to make sense of it. He took the boy’s hand automatically, gave it a brief, businesslike squeeze before releasing it like it was toxic.
He barely resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his shirt.
“I’m Edwin. A pleasure, I’m sure. Ah. Forrest, I’ll— Do you want me to…? I can wait with Betty, if that would…”
“No!” Forrest looked a little wild-eyed when he scanned the crowd. “I mean, no. It’s…I’m sorry. This is, um, that friend I told you about. The one I visit sometimes.”
“Friend.” Corey rolled his eyes. “We’ve been friends for years. Good friends.”
“Years.” Edwin felt nauseated. His mind recoiled from the information, but he didn’t need to think through this to grasp what Corey’s tone and body language were telling him. He lifted the thermos to his mouth, drank some tea as if nothing was wrong, and then nodded. “Well. I’m afraid I didn’t realize…”
What? That Forrest was gay or that he had a boyfriend? Both?
No, not a boyfriend. An arrangement.
Not wanting things to escalate, Edwin looked around, then at each of the other men in turn, lingering with his gaze on Forrest. “Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere. I hate to make a scene.”
“Oh yes, I hate scenes, don’t I, babe?” Corey slipped an arm around Forrest.
Forrest shrugged. “Dunno. You never want me around. Do you hate scenes?”
Corey laughed. “Aww, so I don’t take you to the club. You don’t like them anyway.” He peered toward the parking lot. “But you’re right, let’s go somewhere else. It’s been forever since I’ve had a ride in your cherry-red Mustang.”
Edwin and Forrest corrected him in unison. “Rangoon Red.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s get outta here and away from these rednecks.”
“I think I might call a taxi.” Edwin’s chest ached like he’d run ten miles without taking a step. He gestured weakly at the pair, dizzy from the effort of adjusting his thinking.
Not wanting to look as defeated as he felt, he summoned a smile and tried to make his eyes focus on Forrest’s face. It felt like they were rolling in his head like loose marbles. “I’d hate to be in the way, and there’s not much room in Miss Betty.”
“No, I couldn’t do that.” Forrest took Edwin gently by the arm. “Corey and I are just friends. It’s only ever been—”
“We’ve never had that talk.” Corey grinned up at Forrest. “But maybe we can now. Let’s go for a ride, Forrest. Let the old man find his way home.”
Forrest gave Corey a warning look. “Why are you doing this? You made it clear there wasn’t anything between us.”
Corey shrugged. “I thought it was understood. I like variety and going out, and you don’t like either. But it’s okay. We’ll work it out. There’s no need to resort to…” He waved his hand to indicate Edwin.
At this, Forrest showed real anger. “It’s not resorting to him; I’d be lucky to have him. And you were the one who found relationships too constraining.”
“I changed my mind.”
Forrest turned back to Edwin. “I don’t know why he’s being like this. Please believe me. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me. As your friend has helpfully pointed out, I’m an old man. I should know better.” Edwin kept that fragile smile glued to his face as if it were armor. He turned his gaze on Corey, sizing him up and trying not to think of him as competition.
Deciding to own his stupidity, Edwin leaned in to whisper in Forrest’s ear. “You know, Forrest, I actually thought you were straight. I thought Jenna was your special friend.”
Edwin pulled back and laughed, a mirthless bark, and smoothed a hand over his hair despite the fact that, for once, it wasn’t messy at all. “Funnily enough, none of this is any easier to handle now that I know.”
“Jenna?” Forrest’s eyes widened. “She’s sweet on my sister.” He held his hands out. “Susie’s not…I mean, she likes guys. And she doesn’t—”
Forrest shook his head like he was having trouble wrapping his head around what Edwin told him. “Wait, you didn’t know? But we…”
Corey stepped in, his arms folded over his chest. “You what? Oh Forrest, did you make love to him? When are you ever gonna learn that sex and love aren’t the same thing? You know he told me he loved me after we did it? After the first time! I didn’t even know him.”
The mocking tone twisted Edwin’s stomach.
Forrest lowered his head. “That was a long time ago, Corey. And you laugh
ed.”
Corey reached for Forrest. “I’m not laughing now.”
Forrest jerked away and looked at the small crowd watching from the corners of their eyes. “Stop it.”
He crossed to Edwin. “Let me drive you home, at least, okay? I…I don’t know what to say.”
Corey bulled in between them. “There’s nothing to say, Forrest. You were right. I was taking you for granted. You’ve made your point. You don’t need to mess with this geezer anymore. I’m in. I’ll be with just you from now on.”
Forrest ducked his head. “Can we not do this here, Corey?”
“What? Are you afraid all your redneck friends will know you’re a fag?”
Forrest bristled. “They know I’m gay. They’re okay with it. But I don’t like when they fight with their women in front of me.”
Corey pushed Forrest. “What, you think I’m a woman now?”
Forrest held up both hands and shook his head. “I’m going.”
He grabbed Edwin by the arm and pulled him toward the exit. Edwin followed in a quiet daze, casting a backward glance at Corey, half-afraid the young fool might attack him.
Edwin sighed as he looked back at Forrest, letting the man guide him toward Betty. “Jenna called you her guy. I just assumed what we did was some kind of fluke. Pity, maybe.”
Dignity smarting at the series of stupid assumptions, Edwin pulled gently away from Forrest’s grip on his arm and shot another wary look back at Corey. “It doesn’t matter, though, Forrest. I can see myself home, and you can go handle this situation. It’s not like me to get in the middle of these things. I don’t know why it was different when I thought the person you were with was a woman, but it was.”
Forrest stared, his mouth agape, pain on his face like he’d been sucker punched. That agony pierced Edwin's conscience even before Forrest said in a soft, broken voice, “You only wanted me ’cause you thought I was straight?”
“No, I just…” Edwin closed his eyes at the insanity of the situation. This level of complication was what he’d hoped to avoid. He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes to meet Forrest’s unexpectedly vulnerable gaze. “If I’d thought this could ever become more, I wouldn’t have… That had to be with someone who wouldn’t care if it didn’t mean the same thing to both of us. If it was just…comfort, just one night, then it wouldn’t be as big a betrayal of Howard’s memory.”