Unexpected Angel

by Patrick McGhee

  Wally was preoccupied with the new phone. The urge to call someone possessed him. But who? Tony was the most likely candidate, but Wally couldn’t remember Tony’s number. He had written it down in his address book and left it, where he always kept it, beside the telephone. Before he realized, Wally had passed his favorite clothing store and was near the mall exit. He heard someone calling his name. He recognized the voice. It was Dorinda, from the office.

  “Well, Wally Jackson, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re hanging ‘round here looking for someone to take home with you.” Dorinda’s perfect teeth highlighted her smile as she gave Wally a sassy look.

  “I haven’t thought about picking someone up, but it might be a good place to find a guy, you know, just for a few hours.”

  “Have you no shame, Wally? All you get, with a hook-up like that, is diseases and a broken heart. Find yourself a nice gentleman who’ll treat you right.”

  Wally shook his head in agreement. “I know what you are talking about. Actually, I was just kidding about picking someone up. I don’t cruise around. I might see some nice-looking guys, and I might do some daydreaming. But, that’s as far as it goes. . . . Hey, Dorinda, let’s get a table at the coffee shop and watch some cute guys walk by. You can make sure I behave myself.”

  “Well, I guess window shopping is kind of innocent. I’m a married woman, you know. And, happily at that. But, there don’t seem to be no harm in sipping coffee and watching those cute little college guys being prissy, hoping someone’s gonna get fixated by their sassy little butts a-swinging. Oh, Lordy gracious! It’s getting hot in here.”

  “Another hot flash, Dorinda?” giggled Wally.

  “Oh, sakes a-mercy! I may be getting close to the prime years of my life, but I ain’t nowhere near hot flashes. Or maybe I am. Do you reckon?”

  “Prime years? Would you mean golden years?”

  “Wally Jackson, how would you like for me to hurt you with this big pocketbook of mine?” snickered Dorinda. She pretended to be insulted, but she loved every minute of the exchange. “It would leave a mighty purse print wherever it hits. I could make you double over and sing soprano, don’t you know?”

  At this point, Wally and Dorinda were directly in front of the alcove where the coffee shop was located. Between the recessed area of the shop and the main hall, there were tropical plants in earthenware pots. The plants formed a dividing wall, of sorts. Café tables were located on both sides. Wally and Dorinda decided to take a table behind the plants. It seemed more private. They could see all the passers-by walking in front of the coffee shop, but no one was likely to notice them unless that person came to a stop and stared.

  Wally ordered Colombian coffee, black and robust. Dorinda selected a milder, flavored coffee with lots of cream. They also ordered a small plate of sugar cookies to share. They had taken only a few sips of coffee, and a bite of a sugar cookie, when Dorinda, who was watching the people in the mall corridor, nearly spewed coffee on Wally’s jacket. She had seen Tony.

  “Wally, don’t look now, but there’s Tony with, uh . . . Oh, darn, I can’t remember his name. He’s from an Italian family.”

  Of course, Wally looked where Dorinda had told him not to. His jaw dropped. He rubbed his eyes.

  Dorinda whispered in surprise, “I told you not to look. Turn around now, before he sees you. I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

  Wally turned away from the scene.

  Dorinda continued, “Right now, they’re face to face, talking . . .Oh, I remember the Italian fellow’s name. It’s Gianni . . .Gianni Pomodoro. Ain’t he handsome? Lord sakes, he could melt my heart like butter in a frying pan. Anyway, his family owns warehouses, all over the southeast, and a fleet of trucks. Nobody knows what they store or what they haul. They’re rolling in money, I tell you.” Dorinda’s mouth flew open. She gasped. “My Lord, what people won’t do in public.”

  Wally turned to see Tony and Gianni standing between two vending machines, out of the line of people walking by. They were embracing. Wally was flabbergasted as the drama unfolded, a bit more, and Tony’s lips met Gianni’s in a lingering kiss. Damn, he thought. Just like what he did to me on April 12. The scene climaxed with Gianni fishing a wad of bills from somewhere inside his suit jacket. Tony brushed his hand across the front of Gianni’s pants. Gianni handed Tony the money, then kissed him lightly on the cheek and left the mall.

  As soon as Gianni was out of sight, Tony ambled over to the coffee shop. When he saw Wally and Dorinda, he greeted them politely. Dorinda, seeing this as a chance to give Wally and Tony time to talk, moved her chair back from the table. “I’ve really got to be on my way. My sister and I are going to some yard sales. That’s why I took a day off from work” Motioning to Tony, she said, “Tony, why don’t you sit here and visit with Wally.” Dorinda left.

  After Tony sat down, he looked at Wally. “How did she know my name? I don’t remember ever meeting her.”

  Wally responded, “Oh, but I introduced the two of you at a concert last summer. That was the last time you and I went out together. She has a good memory for people and faces. I’m terrible at that.”

  “Me, too,” said Tony. He didn’t order coffee. He opted for a soda. “Wally, have you forgot about the tires for my car? We were supposed to meet, this morning, at Tilley’s Discount Tires on Harper Drive.”

  Defending himself, Wally said, “You never told me what time. I didn’t hear from you this morning. I wasn’t about to stay home all day or go down to Tilley’s and wait for hours.”

  “Well,” said Tony. “I was detained by important business. I tried to call. You didn’t answer.”

  Wally knew, all too well, what kind of business this was. He looked at a plastic knife and fork Dorinda had used to divide a large sugar cookie. He thought, just for one minute, I’d wish for this fork to be a pitchfork. I’d fix that lying so-and-so. I do believe I am in love with a gigolo. Is there anything Tony won’t do for money? Wally looked at Tony, “You won’t have trouble reaching me next time. I’ve got a cell phone!”

  Chapter 11

  Tony’s car was parked two rows over from Wally’s. They were able to leave the mall parking lot at the same time. As Wally followed Tony to Aaron Tilley’s Discount Tire Center on Harper Drive, he kept thinking, I wonder how much this will cost me.

  When they reached Tilley’s, they parked in front of the building. Wally got out of his car. He walked over to Tony who was rolling down his window. Tony said, “You go inside and tell them that you’re going to get me some new tires. Tell them you are my uncle and you’re going to pay for the tires with your credit card. You have enough credit on the card, don’t you?”

  In reply to Tony, Wally popped a question he had been wanting to ask for several weeks. “Are you ashamed of me, Tony? It seems like you don’t want people to see us together.”

  Tony replied, “If we are together too much, someone in this town is going to tell my mom that you are buying me things to win me over to your side.”

  “My side?” snapped Wally. “You make it sound like being gay is some weird, off-the-wall political party, or a religious cult. Being gay is not a side to be on. It is not a disease. It is not a mental condition. It is simply the way some people think and feel and act. As for being your uncle . . . If your mother gets wind of that, I hope you have one heck of a time explaining to her just exactly which side of the family I come from. Your dad doesn’t have any brothers or sisters. And your mom? She has one sister who never married. So, what is it? How did I get to be your uncle? Your mom is gonna latch onto that story like a crow on road kill.”

  Tony didn’t answer. He wasn’t accustomed to Wally talking back. He figured he must have pushed the wrong button.

  Wally walked to the entrance of the tire showroom and went inside. He was greeted by a man in his forties, a pleasant looking gentleman--clean-shaven, short blond hair, captivating blue eyes. “May I help you, sir?” the man said.

  “Yes,” replied Wa
lly. “My nephew needs some tires for his car. It’s the green Mustang out front.” The words had hardly crossed Wally’s lips before he realized he had fallen into one of Tony’s lies, without even trying.

  The tire salesman smiled and pointed to some tires in the display window. “We have these Navigator brand tires over here. They are all-season, steel-belted radials, and they happen to be on sale. Let’s see. I can let you have them for $95 apiece. That includes balancing, mounting, and disposal of the old tires.”

  “That will be fine,” said Wally. “I will need to put them on my credit card. Is that OK?”

  “Certainly,” responded the salesman. “We accept MasterCard, Visa, and Discover. Tell your nephew to pull around to the garage entrance at the end of the building. Someone will be waiting, there, to drive the car into the mounting bay. Let me swipe your credit card so I can process the sale while they are putting the tires on the car.”

  Wally went outside to tell Tony where to move the car. Tony rolled down his window and remarked, “I saw the tires that guy took out of the window. That’s a budget brand. I was hoping for a major brand, you know, to make a statement.”

  “Listen, Tony. I use the same brand myself. Can’t you just accept them as a going-away gift and quit whining around like a two-year-old child?”

  Tony retorted, “I was going to pay you back.”

  Wally snapped, “You’ll do well to pay back the seven hundred for the down payment on the car. Accept the tires as a gift. Now, drive around to the end of the building.”

  Once in the mounting bay, Tony did not go to the waiting area as the signs indicated. He remained with the car.

  The tire technician, a well-built young man around nineteen, didn’t ask Tony to leave the bay. He could sense Tony staring at him. He looked at Tony. He noticed the bulge in Tony’s jeans. He saw that Tony kept adjusting himself, like there was some kind of critter about to break loose, and Tony had to keep it properly confined. He figured Tony was being entertained. No doubt, Tony would be a satisfied customer.

  Tony struck up the conversation, “Do you live around Brockton?”

  The young technician responded that he did. He was a college student. He had an efficiency apartment just a few blocks away. The technician added, “Would you like to come see it?”

  “Yes,” said Tony. “I would like that, and whatever else you want to show me.”

  The young man ran his tongue along the edge of his lips to moisten them. He made eye contact with Tony. The message was delivered. Then he said, “OK. Stop by around seven. It’s 417 Neville Terrace, Apartment 3-G.” The technician smiled. Tingles went up his back as he anticipated becoming acquainted with Tony’s critter. No doubt, he would get to pet it. Perhaps, more.

  “Absolutely,” said Tony. “I am sure I don’t have any other commitments. If I do, I will be there anyway. See you at seven.”

  Tony left the bay and walked toward the waiting area. He could see Wally looking through the observation window. He remembered the promise. He was supposed to spend the night with Wally. They were going to do the ritual with the bath and the beach towel, like they had discussed on the jail visit. Tony pondered about how sensual that would be. Wally is very good with his hands. I can almost feel them now.

  Tony took a deep breath. Wally will have to wait. I have an appointment for an evening with a hot young stud. He latched on to something he remembered from a lecture. When opportunities present themselves, people have to rise to the occasion and grab onto what is rightfully theirs. That’s it. I am going to do some rising and grabbing this evening. Oh, man! I bet Wally would do the same thing if he had the chance, wouldn’t he? . . No, he really wouldn’t. He would be there to wrap me in the beach towel and pat me dry as he promised . . . Oh, Wally, I hope you understand. I hope you forgive me.

  Wally and Tony stood in the waiting room until the technician finished. Wally said playfully, “Remember, you are supposed to stay over at my place tonight. It’s going to be a special celebration, just for you.

  “Yes, I can’t wait. Hmm!” Tony replied.

  Wally admonished Tony, “Don’t forget me like you did last night.”

  “Sure thing. I will be there. By the way, thank you so much for the tires.”

  The technician walked into the waiting room. “All done,” he said. “Which one of you gets the keys.”

  Tony stretched out his hand to receive the keys. He moistened his lips. The technician did the same. They both smiled.

  Wally drove off with a smile on his face, hamming it up with his own version of a song he knew, I’m gonna wash that jail right off of my man.

  **********

  As Tony drove off, he had trouble swallowing the lump in his throat. There was not going to be a symbolic and sensual episode with Wally bathing him and then wrapping him in a beach towel for a sensual pat down. They wouldn’t be spending the night together in the double bed. Tony had made it all up to control Wally and his wallet. Instead, Tony would deliberately disappoint the man who loved him. Oh, well, he thought. Stuff happens. He’ll get over it.

  Chapter 12

  As Wally crossed the parking lot at Walmart, his steps had a certain zing, a bounce set to the music in his heart. Tony was coming to spend the night. Things were going to change. Tony was coming tonight. No more broken promises. No more waiting. No more tears. No more saddened heart. Tony was coming. Wally hummed snappy tunes. He whistled softly. He smiled at folks he had never seen. He greeted people he had never met. The world was playing a symphony. Everything danced. The air came alive with lusty Latin rhythms. Colors were brighter. Smells were sweeter. Tony was coming tonight.

  Wally smiled a warm, happy smile at the greeter. She must have been close to seventy. Wally wondered if her smile was forced, or if she was actually as happy as her face projected. Did she have someone special in her life? Or, had she learned to smile in spite of that? Wally had learned to do both. Tonight, for a change, he would have someone special. Tony was coming. The rhythm of that phrase, that thought, waltzed through his head. Then it jitterbugged and tangoed.

  No pizza for them tonight. Wally didn’t like pizza; he didn’t even like cheese. Yes, he was one of those people. Strange indeed. He loved everything Italian--the actresses, the sports cars, the leaning tower of Pisa, Michelangelo’s David, even the sound of the language–everything Italian, except cheese. It didn’t matter. Tony knew all about it. So . . . Wally swaggered and smiled and breathed to the lilt of Tony is coming tonight as he loaded the shopping cart with pretzels, frozen corn dogs, mustard, peanuts, light beer, diet cola, and some popcorn just in case they ran out of other food. He was happy, even in the line at checkout. Seventeen registers and only three clerks. Who cared? Not he. Tony was coming tonight to stay.

  When Wally got home, he got busy putting things away, preparing himself and his apartment for the arrival of Tony Danforth. Wally’s imagination produced a monologue as he worked. Ah, Tony’s name has a dignified sound to it–a sound of prominence–maybe even political power. Tony Danforth. He might be president one day. And I . . . I would know that I had slept with the president. Well, so would a lot of other people. They wouldn’t know that I had slept with him. They would know that they had. But, I would be the one who loved him. That’s the problem. He would never let me set foot in the White House. As much as we love each other–it might show on our faces. Then, I would gasp when I saw us on one of those trashy magazines at the grocery store checkout. Come to think of it, he would probably have all kinds of young dudes, just barely out of college, hanging around him like glittering ornaments on a Christmas tree. They would be trying to get jobs with official government titles, just so they’d be available on request. He wouldn’t pick one of them, would he? Wouldn’t he call me on our own private hot line and tell me how hot he was for me? Or, would he just grab one of those silly things and have a night that I wouldn’t know about? Oh, I’m starting to upset myself. It will never happen. I’ll win the lottery first.

&nb
sp; When Wally was satisfied with the way the apartment looked, he took a shower and brushed his teeth. He wanted to smell good and be kissable, something that Tony, the maxi-stud, would want to hold, to cuddle, to make love to.

  Wally glanced at his watch. It was only three o’clock. Tony wouldn’t be there until around seven. Wally decided to take a nap. After all, this was the last day of his four-day weekend. A snooze would make things easier at work tomorrow. Wally doubted he would get much sleep. If they made up for lost time, they would be busy all night. Wally thought, It’s terrible. I’m so starved for a man and his warm body next to me. I really am as corny as Nebraska in August. No, I’ve got the words wrong. It must be another state. Crap! I’m on the way to being a monumental ding-a-ling at the moment. I’m in love. And, Tony is coming tonight.

  Wally fell asleep on the couch. The words he had been uttering were still on his lips. Tony is coming tonight. He didn’t wake up until after eight o’clock. Magenta and violet hues of the sunset were illuminating the living room. Tony wasn’t there to share it with him. The phone had not rung while Wally was napping. He always heard the phone when he was asleep. The doorbell, too. It never failed to wake him. Tony had not come.

  Wally was hungry. He fixed a snack, careful not to eat the things he had bought for Tony and himself. Well, he did drink one bottle of the beer. That was allowed. He was upset. He drank it slowly, wondering, pondering. Where was Tony?

  It was nearly ten o’clock when Wally decided to spend some time on the computer until Tony arrived. At eleven o’clock–still no Tony. Wally watched the news. He fell asleep on the sofa.

  He woke up at three o’clock in the morning. He hurried to his bedroom. Tony was not there. He looked in the shower. Not there either. Maybe the closets . . . No. Perhaps under the dining room table . . . No luck. At last, Wally stopped his searching. He stood dumbfounded. Tony was not coming!