Stumptown

by A M Huff

  “Fine,” Justus said. “Today in the break room I overheard some assholes talking about an article in the paper that said another man has gone missing.”

  “Really? Who?” Scotty looked across the table at Justus.

  “Don’t know. I didn’t see the paper.”

  “Well, it’s over there on the table by the front door,” Harrison said.

  Justus jumped up from the table and retrieved the paper. He unfolded it and opened it, scanning the articles.

  “Here it is,” he announced. “Friends report that Patrick Yarborough was last seen leaving CC’s, a local country-western nightclub downtown which caters to the gay community, with an unidentified male. Witnesses could not give a definite description of the man and no one has heard from Yarborough since. Police have yet to comment, stating it is an ongoing investigation.

  “Oh my god!” Justus gasped and lowered the paper.

  “Wasn’t that the guy you said saw who abducted that other guy?” Scotty asked.

  “Yes,” Justus answered. He dropped back into his seat at the end of the table. “Curtis said he didn’t go out anymore.”

  “How odd,” Harrison said.

  “Was there anything more?” Scotty asked.

  “That was all, only a small paragraph. Hardly worth anyone’s time writing it.” Justus took a gulp of his drink. “With the government finally acknowledging the rights of gays in this country, you’d think the police and media would follow suit. It’s obvious they’re still biased and homophobic.”

  “That’s harsh,” Douglas spoke up.

  “But it’s true,” Justus said. “Those pompous assholes, excuse my language,” he said, noticing Harrison’s disapproving look, “were nothing less. It was infuriating. They compared us to Sodom and Gomorrah.”

  “Well, what can you or anyone do about it?” Harrison said sympathetically.

  They finished their meal in near silence. Douglas attempted several times to start another conversation but each time it fell flat. Finally, he gave up.

  When the clock in the corner of the dining room struck ten, Scotty stretched and yawned.

  “I guess I should be going. I have to work in the morning,” he said.

  “We all do,” Harrison agreed and swallowed the last of his wine.

  “I can take you home after I clear the table,” Justus offered.

  “Don’t worry about that. Doug and I can take care of it. You two go ahead.”

  “Are you sure?” Justus asked Harrison and eyed the two of them.

  “Yes,” Harrison said. “And I know what you’re thinking, so stop it.”

  “What?” Justus feigned innocence and laughed.

  “Thank you for the wonderful dinner,” Scotty said and stood up from the table.

  “My pleasure,” Harrison answered.

  After grabbing their jackets from the coat tree in the foyer, Justus and Scotty headed for Justus’ car parked against the curb in front of the house.

  “So, are those two finally a couple?” Scotty asked.

  “No. They’re just old friends,” Justus said. “But I still love teasing Harry. He gets so red when he’s embarrassed.”

  They climbed into the car. Glancing over his shoulder, Justus pulled out into the street and headed toward downtown.

  “I can’t believe Andy would lie about his name,” Scotty said out of the blue. “Don’t you think it’s odd?”

  “Yeah,” Justus agreed and wondered why Scotty was bringing him up again after barely saying anything earlier.

  “I mean, because I told him I didn’t want to have sex, he went nuts and threw me out in the street in the middle of the night. What sane person acts like that?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never said no to anyone before,” Justus responded and then his words sank in. “That sounded a little trashy didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, a bit,” Scotty agreed. “You’re such a little slut,” he teased and they both laughed.

  Justus pulled up to the curb outside Scotty’s apartment building and parked. The vibration from the engine jiggled the steering wheel to let him know he was using up his fuel.

  “Thanks again for dinner and the ride,” Scotty said. He gave Justus a sideways hug and kiss on the cheek before sliding out of the car.

  “No problem.”

  “Talk to you tomorrow.” Scotty closed the passenger door behind him and waved while Justus put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

  On the drive home Justus’ past words echoed in his ears. It was true, he had never said no to any guy wanting sex. He used to be able to count on one hand the number of guys he had been with, but that was a long time ago. Sitting at a stop light on E Burnside, he began to list off the names of all of his hookups. Marcus, Jack, Matthew, Luke, James, Jason, Steve, Brian, Brad or was it Brad then Brian? “No, Byron. That was his name,” he said out loud. The light turned green and he stepped on the accelerator while he continued to list names.

  When he reached NE 14th Avenue he zigged left and then right onto Sandy Boulevard and headed northeast toward the Hollywood District. Somewhere in the change of direction he lost count and found he was counting the passing cars instead.

  “Damn it!” he said and slapped the steering wheel. He slowed to a stop at another red light. “I guess Scotty’s right, I am a slut.” His shoulders slumped. He looked to the right through the windshield and noticed a man standing beneath a street light waiting for the bus. In the dim light, Justus’ heart began to beat a little faster. The man looked rugged, like the Marlboro cowboy from the ads in his old Blue Boy magazines. He felt a stirring in his groin and wished the handsome man would look at him. “What are you doing?” he scolded himself. “Get a grip, Justus!” The light changed; he stepped on the gas pedal and left the Marlboro man behind.

  Pulling up to the curb in front of the house, Justus turned off the engine and sat in his car. He looked at the old, two-story Portland Craftsman house and noticed Douglas’ truck was now parked in the driveway beside Harrison’s Honda CR-V. For a moment he wished he could be more like Harrison, having guy friends and not wanting to have sex with them.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” he said and shook the thought from his head.

  He opened the door and stepped out into the chilly night air. The neighbor’s dog began barking. He resisted the urge to yell at him to shut up and instead hurried into the house.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The morning commute into downtown Portland was quiet. Justus stared out the passenger side window while Harrison drove the two of them to work. He could not stop thinking about his conversation with Scotty the night before.

  “Harry, do you think I’m a slut?” he asked.

  Harrison let out an awkward chuckle and glanced at Justus. His smile faded instantly when their eyes met.

  “Where’d that come from?” he asked. “Is that what’s been bothering you since you came home last night?”

  “Yes,” Justus answered.

  “What happened? Did Scotty and you have a fight?”

  “No. I’ve been doing some thinking,” Justus answered. “Last night in the car, Scotty brought up Andy. He’s really bothered by the way Andy threw him out because he, Scotty, didn’t want to rush into sex with him. He asked me what I thought.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him I’ve never been in that situation before because I’ve never said no to a guy.”

  “I see.”

  “Does that make me a slut?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Justus. A bit promiscuous maybe, but I’ve honestly never thought of you with that term.”

  “Same thing,” Justus said. “It’s just a fancier word.” He turned and looked out the window again.

  “Hold it,” Harrison said, glancing back and forth between the road ahead and Justus. “What’s this really about?”

  Justus looked at Harrison and tears filled his eyes. “I was thinking. I’m so not like you. I don’t have any real guy
friends, guys I haven’t slept with.”

  “Yes, you do,” Harrison said. “What about Dale, Marcus, and Jack?” He glanced at Justus and his expression drooped. “You didn’t?”

  Justus frowned and shrugged his shoulders a little.

  “Well, I know you haven’t slept with Scotty.”

  “True.”

  “So, there’s one, and you haven’t slept with me or Douglas. Don’t say it!” Harrison warned playfully.

  Justus lowered his head.

  “So you have three male friends.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do, Justus. Friends come and go—no pun intended, get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Justus protested and tried not to grin.

  “The point is, people will pass through your life constantly. Today you have Scotty and Dale in your circle of friends. One day you may add someone else to that circle or one of them will move away. Life is constantly changing. You don’t still hang out with the same group you did in grade school, do you?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “What about high school?”

  “No.”

  “See, your circle has already changed.”

  “But they didn’t disappear or die,” Justus said and felt his mood sink again.

  “True. Justus, what’s happening is a lot to deal with, but you’re strong, energetic, fun to be around. All things that will draw others to you. You will survive. Isn’t that one of those old songs from the ‘70s you listen to?”

  Justus smiled. He loved that song. Who says disco is dead?

  “Thanks, Harry,” Justus said. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Harrison’s cheek.

  “Hey! Hey! Driving here,” Harrison protested.

  Justus smiled and settled back in his seat.

  Minutes later, when Harrison pulled into his parking space on the third floor of the parking garage on SW Fourth Avenue between Oak Street and Pine, Justus reached into the back seat and grabbed his backpack. He reached for the door handle but Harrison grabbed his arm.

  “I don’t mean to bring up a sore subject but I’ll be in a meeting this morning with the reps from Concannon Industries again. So you may see this Andy-Dominic guy around.”

  “Whatever.” Justus shrugged. “Not my concern.”

  “Good,” Harrison said and slapped Justus on the back.

  Alone in his file room, Justus sat at his desk. He tried to concentrate on his proposal for a newer, simpler filing system but Harrison’s reminder about his meeting and Andy kept crowding its way into his thoughts. He pushed away from the computer on his desk and rocked back in his chair.

  It’s just too quiet. Maybe if I listen to some music. . .

  He reached over and pressed the play button on his CD player. The room instantly filled with the melodic, catchy lyrics and heavy, vibrating beat that brought up memories of happier times and lifted his spirits. He stood up and started dancing and gyrating while he went about refiling the loose folders.

  “Sounds like a party in here,” an unfamiliar male voice cut through the music.

  Justus jumped and quickly turned down his player. He looked at the man in the doorway and went numb.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Andy smiled and walked into the room. He stopped when he reached the empty desk.

  “I wanted to thank you for not making a scene up there yesterday,” he said quietly.

  “I thought I did,” Justus answered in a curt tone. “So, what is your real name? I know it’s not Andy like you told my friend.”

  “It’s Dominic.”

  “Why did you lie?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  “I know you don’t owe me anything but would you do me the favor of having a drink with me after work tonight? I’d like to explain.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to discuss it here. A drink would be more relaxing and I could talk more freely.”

  Justus’ eyes narrowed while he looked at Andy, trying to figure out if this was another one of his lines. He wanted to say no, to tell him exactly what he thought of someone who cheats on his wife and how disgusting a person like that is but instead he heard his voice say, “Sure, I’m off at five.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait out front,” Andy said. He turned around and left.

  Justus dropped down onto his chair and slammed a fist down on his desk. “Slut! Slut! Slut!” he said out loud.

  “What’s that all about?” Harrison asked from the doorway.

  Justus jumped to his feet and took a step back, bumping into the file cabinets.

  “Hey, it’s only me,” Harrison said and walked into the room. His dark-brown eyes looked concerned. “What’s the matter?”

  “Andy, I mean Dominic was just here.”

  “He was?” Harrison sounded surprised. He glanced over his shoulder and then back at Justus. “What did he want?”

  “He wants me to go for a drink with him after work so he can explain,” Justus answered.

  Harrison looked a bit shocked and confused.

  “I wanted to tell him, no but. . .”

  “You told him you would,” Harrison said and furrowed his brow. “You’re not planning on fooling around with him, are you?”

  “Oh, hell no!” Justus gasped and pretended to gag. “Rule Number Five, no sex with married dudes. Besides, he’s not my type at all.”

  “So what will you do if he goes off on you like he did with Scotty?”

  “I’ve got my cell phone. I can call a cab.”

  “Call me,” Harrison said. “I’ll come back downtown and pick you up. Where are you going for this drink?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “I see. Well, let me know where and how it goes. Text me, call me, whatever.”

  “I will. Thanks, Harry.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything.” Justus smiled.

  Harrison held out a handful of folders to Justus.

  After Harrison left, Justus sat down at his desk and turned up his music. He glanced at the stack of mail in his in-basket and set it all in a pile in front of him. There were intercompany envelopes with file requests, junk mail from companies wanting to sell him new filing software and others offering sleek colored hanging files. . .

  Justus stopped and held up a large envelope that was addressed to him and not the company like the other junk mail. He turned it over looking for a return address. There was none, only the embossed Hallmark stamped logo on the flap. He opened it and removed the card.

  A cute bunny holding a large colored egg smiled at him on the front. Printed above its head was the corny line Hoppy Easter. Justus’ heart beat faster as images of Dean’s face flashed in his head. His hands began to shake. Although he did not really want to, he slowly opened the card; a loud pop caused him to jump while glitter and confetti bits showered him. “Mom!” he said as though she were standing in front of him. He read the message she wrote on the inside.

  Gotcha!

  I know I’m a little early but how else was I going to surprise you? This makes up for the Mother’s Day card you sent me last year, the one that played that awful tune. It took forever for the battery to die.

  Dad loves it here. He plays golf nearly every day. I’m trying to keep busy but I miss you and your sisters and I miss Oregon.

  Write when you can.

  Love, Mom.

  Justus stood the card up between his computer monitor and the framed photograph of his parents. He tried not to think about it too often, but he did miss his mother. She was more than just his mom, she was his best friend. He could talk to her about anything. Suddenly he had the urge to call her, to tell her about Marcus, to hear her say everything was going to be okay. He reached for his cell phone but stopped himself before dialing. The boss frowned on making personal phone calls on company time. He stuck his phone back into his shirt pocket. He would wait until he got h
ome.

  He sorted through the rest of the mundane junk mail and emptied most of it into the recycle box before he noticed the manila folder on the bottom. A feeling of sadness came over him. He opened the file and looked at Marcus’ will. With a heavy sigh, he began to read it.

  “Ready for lunch?” Harrison asked when he walked into the room.

  Justus looked up from the last page of the will and nodded. “Sure.”

  When he stood up, glitter and confetti fell on the floor.

  “What’s all that?”

  “My mom,” Justus answered. “She sent me a booby-trapped Easter card.”

  Harrison started to laugh and shook his head. “You two crack me up. Let’s go.”

  Minutes later, Justus and Harrison were seated at a table in the Plaza with their steaming lunch bowls in front of them. Justus had managed to avoid picking up the tab again but Harrison did not complain.

  “So, what had you so engrossed up there?” Harrison asked.

  “I was reading Marcus’ will.”

  “Oh,” Harrison said and nodded to himself. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Though in reality, Justus felt as though he were slipping into a bad place inside. “I can’t believe the luck some people have.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Marcus was twenty-five and he owned his own house outright. Where did he get all that money?”

  “You’re forgetting, Marcus lived paycheck to paycheck like everyone else.”

  “Yeah, but his paycheck was about double mine and he was a computer geek,” Justus lamented. “I need a different job.” He sighed and stabbed a strip of chicken with his fork.

  “Well, if you’re really unhappy with your job—”

  “I didn’t say that. I really like my job. It’s not high stress and I’m not tied to a desk or a computer unless I want to be.”

  “There you go,” Harrison interjected with a positive tone.

  “But,” Justus said, stopping him, “there are days when a little more cash would be nice. I mean, at this rate I don’t think I’ll ever own my own house or even a small condo like Scotty.”

  “If you had your own house, you’d have to move out,” Harrison said.