Cleats in Clay

by Jackson Cordd

  Odis took the mugs this time. After he brought back the refills, Bobby sniffed it and smelled only coffee.

  “So,” Bobby continued, “on Tuesday, we decided to have breakfast on his porch. We horsed around a little and started making out. We moved it inside to the living room, and things got really hot and heavy on the couch. In our hurry, we didn’t close the front door all the way.”

  Bobby grimaced briefly. “When we heard someone come in the hallway, we didn’t have time to scramble and get dressed before he came into the living room.” Bobby clutched the mug.

  Tuck patted his leg again. “Who came in?”

  Hesitantly, Bobby said, “Ricky.” He gulped down some of the coffee, but it was still hot, burning his tongue, and he winced. “He—when he saw—Nathan on top of me, he—Ricky went absolutely bat-shit. I mean utterly, insanely crazy.”

  Tuck gave Bobby a moment to collect himself, then urged the story forward. “What did Ricky do?”

  “He went into a rage and started babbling all kinds of shit while he pulled Nate off of me and punched him. When I stood up, he punched me, then screamed something and took off. I pulled on my clothes and tried to follow him, but he was already gone.”

  Odis put his hand under Bobby’s chin and pulled his gaze out of the coffee mug he was clutching so tightly. “What kind of shit did he say?”

  “It was, like, babbling mostly. Gerry, he said his name a few times, something about being corrupted, called Nathan a faggot. Not very coherent stuff.”

  “Okay,” Tuck said. “So you tried to follow him, but he’d left. What happened next?”

  “I came back in the house and Nathan was waiting for me. He’d already packed up a bag and handed it to me. Then Nate said, ‘Go to your mom’s. You need to get through this,’ before he tried to push me out the door.”

  Odis frowned. “That’s what Nathan said?”

  Bobby nodded. “So he knew. He already knew what was gonna happen. I can see that now.”

  Tuck nodded. “Then what happened?”

  “I argued with him. Tried to steer Nate to the kitchen and get some ice or something for the red mark on his cheek that was swelling up and starting to bruise. But he argued back, getting more insistent, and eventually pushed me out the door.”

  “Okay,” Tuck said with a nod. “Then you went to your mom’s?”

  “No, not right away. I went back to the apartment to get some stuff. I don’t even remember what was so fucking important I had to go get.”

  “Then what?” Tuck asked.

  “I drove out to Mom’s. She wouldn’t open the screen door for me. She wouldn’t look me in the eye, either. She told me to take my business elsewhere, like I was the fuckin’ Avon Lady or something.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I tried to talk to her. I begged her to look at me. She started crying. Then Ricky came up behind her and pulled her out of the doorway and slammed the door in my face.”

  “And after that?” Tuck asked.

  “I hung around. I thought maybe once she had time to calm down, we could chat. So I hung around down the street until I saw Ricky leave. And I went back.” Bobby took a deep breath. “She still wouldn’t open the door. Mom told me Ricky was too disgusted to deal with me. I told her that I’d seen Ricky leave, and it was just me and her. I begged her to let me in. She started crying again and said she wasn’t gonna go against Ricky’s wishes and closed the door on me.”

  Odis scowled. “Holy fuckin’ shit. How could a mother do that?”

  Bobby shook his head. “She felt like she had to choose, I guess.” His face twisted with grief. “Shit. That fucker Nathan. Why didn’t he tell me? Be more direct? If I’d gone that weekend or even left right when Ricky did, I might have been able to talk to her before Ricky poisoned her against me.”

  Tuck wrapped his arm around Bobby’s shoulder in a reassuring hug. “You can’t beat yourself up over it. You didn’t know.”

  “But he did. Fucking bastard Nathan knew.”

  “Stud,” Odis said and waited for Bobby to look at him. “We don’t have any way of knowing what Nathan saw. Maybe, from his side, it just looked like a speed bump or something. Ya can’t blame him, or yerself, for any of it.”

  Nodding in agreement, Tuck said, “It was the actions of Ricky. He’s the one responsible.”

  “I’m responsible too, though. If I hadn’t been so careless and stupid. If—”

  “Stop it,” Odis said sharply. “Those ‘what ifs’ never go anywhere but Crazytown.”

  “Right,” Tuck agreed. “Did you try to see her again?”

  “Not until the funeral. Didn’t get to talk to her, though. Gerry saw me first and had his brother throw me out. Damn weasel couldn’t even do his own dirty work.”

  “What funeral?” Tuck asked pointedly, following some strange suspicion.

  Bobby clutched the coffee mug so tightly, Odis thought the clay cup was going to shatter in his hands. Bobby finally whispered, “Ricky’s.”

  “When was this?” Tuck asked.

  “End of that year.”

  “How…?” Odis asked.

  “Ninety-five-mile-an-hour collision into a highway bridge pylon. Right after Christmas.”

  “Fuck,” Tuck muttered before he caught himself. He pulled his cop face back on. “What did the investigators come up with?”

  “Never came right out and said. Report did mention he never braked before he hit the bridge. Minimal alcohol, no drugs. I think it must have been a suicide.”

  “Why?” Odis asked.

  “He’d flunked out that semester, the papers later reported. Maybe he couldn’t face the humiliation of it.”

  Tuck shook his head but didn’t say anything. His cop instincts told him that, more likely, poor school performance was just a symptom of a nastier underlying cause, the real fuel for the suicide. He looked over at Bobby. “Can you recall anything more specific Ricky said when he was babbling?”

  “Does it fucking matter?” Bobby asked as he shook his drooping head.

  “Guess not,” Tuck said, letting the subject drop.

  Odis shrugged at Tuck almost apologetically. He hadn’t expected Bobby’s past to bring the evening to a screeching halt and leave the atmosphere burdened with such a heavy dankness.

  Tuck frowned back. He waffled between weeping or punching somebody. He gave Bobby a squeeze around the shoulder, then stood up and went into the bathroom.

  Odis tried to ignore the clattering noises that sounded like plastic bits bouncing around on tile. A minute later, the guys couldn’t ignore the shattering noise of something like heavy glass breaking. Odis just smiled weakly at Bobby when he looked up.

  Bobby held up his empty mug. “I think I want another one of those Black Jacks.”

  “Hot Jack,” Odis corrected. “I’ll get ya one.” He claimed the empty mug and went to the kitchen.

  Bobby turned to look over the couch at him. “Isn’t Jack Daniel’s from, like, Kentucky or Tennessee? Don’t Texas have its own whiskey?”

  “Not really. Distilling laws were pretty restrictive after prohibition. Things have only loosened up recently. So Jack is an honorary Lone-Star whiskey.” Odis brought back the full mugs as Tuck left the bathroom.

  “What’s that about whiskey?” Tuck asked as he stepped into the living room.

  Odis glanced over, noticing Tuck didn’t have his mug anymore. “He just asked why Texas doesn’t have its own whiskey.”

  Tuck went into the kitchen and started another pot of coffee. “I could give ya a lecture of the history of Texas liquor laws,” he yelled over his shoulder. “But I doubt ya really wanna hear all of it.”

  Bobby shook his head. “Prob’ly not.”

  Odis chuckled. Tuck stepped to the back of the couch and looked quizzically at Odis. “He said ‘prob’ly’,” Odis explained. “Our evil plan to turn him into a Texan is working.”

  Tuck chuckled along.

  Bobby smiled weakly. “Guess bein’ a
Texan is a good as any other.”

  Tuck bristled in mock surprise. “Ya hear this bullshit, Odie? We’re just as good as everybody else?”

  “Almost sacrilegious,” Odis agreed as he punched Bobby in the arm. “Texas is the only state that was ever its own country first. We’re better than everybody else.”

  Bobby chuckled back. “Oh? But ya don’t even have yer own whiskey,” he teased.

  Tuck smiled. “Workin’ on it. Got some good contenders, just a matter of who rises up to top dog.”

  Odis nodded. “That Balcones might.”

  Tuck scowled as the coffee pot beeped. “Not that blue corn shit. My money’s on Garrison Brothers,” he said as he went back into the kitchen area.

  “Blue corn?” Bobby asked.

  Odis nodded. “Made with blue corn and cocoa in the mash. Ya didn’t even mention Rebecca Creek,” Odis yelled at the kitchen.

  “That’s fer highbrows,” Tuck said, shaking his head as he came back to the couch. “Not quite the same thing, so it don’t count.”

  Bobby looked over at Odis and smiled. “Now you’ve got me curious. What does blue corn taste like?”

  Odis and Tuck shared a quick gaze. Then they burst into grins. “Taste test!” they yelled out at the same time. Noting Tuck was still dressed in his sweats, Odis stood up. “I’ll run to Pearl’s and we can settle this.”

  “Don’t get lost,” Tuck teased as Odis left the apartment.

  “Who’s Pearl?” Bobby asked.

  “Owner of the liquor store. It’s just across the street,” Tuck explained before he got up and dug around the kitchenette for his short bourbon glasses.

  Chapter 27

  AFTER Bobby and Odis downed several sample shots, they failed to reach a consensus. Bobby quickly grew fond of the unusual touches of flavor in the Balcones, but Tuck smirked when he sampled a tiny sip and claimed the mocha hint was just “too damn weird” as he continued to defend the Garrison Brothers. Odis couldn’t decide either way. He thought they tasted pretty much the same. Bobby and Tuck both teased him, saying straight boys must not have delicate enough palates to tell the difference.

  In a much lighter and tipsier mood, Bobby returned from the bathroom and dropped to the couch between Odis and Tuck. “No more,” he said. “Or I’ll end up shit-faced.”

  Tuck reached out and stroked Bobby’s jaw. “Yer face never looks like shit.”

  “Yer right ’bout that,” Odis agreed as he gazed over.

  “You two,” Bobby said with a grin as he patted each guy on the nearest leg.

  Odis grinned back. “Us two, what?”

  “A couple of horndogs, I think,” Bobby said.

  “Well,” Tuck drawled, “it has been two days. And we missed our big date.”

  “Real big,” Odis agreed. “Two whole days ago too.”

  “Well then,” Bobby said and let out a fake sigh. “Somebody better hurry and kiss me.” He leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes. He felt the warm and fuzzy kiss on his mouth and sparklers on his cheek. Keeping his eyes closed, Bobby opened his mouth for Odis, who lightly explored with his tongue as the sparklers moved over to his ear.

  Odis pulled back and chuckled. Bobby opened his eyes to see him grinning. “Ya taste like whiskey, stud.”

  “Really?” Tuck asked as he leaned over. He gently planted his lips on Bobby’s mouth. His larger tongue probed at Bobby’s as he breathed him in through his mouth. The air sent sparkly shivers down Bobby’s neck before Tuck pulled away. “Sure do,” Tuck agreed with a silly grin.

  “Whatever,” Bobby said with a smile as he closed his eyes again. He felt someone shift; then a warm presence squatted between his legs, pushing on his knees to widen the gap. He felt the cold smooth plastic of the cast against his neck as Tuck readjusted and rotated Bobby’s head toward him slightly.

  When he felt hands fumbling with the waistband of his jeans, Bobby reached down and gently took hold of the hands and pulled Odis toward him. “It shouldn’t be like this,” Bobby said as he opened his eyes and motioned Odis back to the couch between him and Tuck. “We should take care of Odis, since he’s not going with us,” he said to Tuck.

  Tuck nodded. “That’s right, he’ll be all alone. He’ll need somethin’ to keep him warm ’til we get back.”

  “Geez.” Odis chuckled. “Exaggerate much?” He sat on the couch between them and thumped at Tuck’s ear. “It’s not like ya guys are abandonin’ me in the desert or somethin’.”

  “Quit complainin’,” Tuck said as he leaned in and touched his sparking lips to Odis’s. As Odis opened, Tuck stood and scooted around to Odis’s left side so he could rest his casted right hand on the back of the couch. Tuck leaned closer into the kiss while Bobby unsnapped Odis’s jeans.

  Odis pulled back. “I wasn’t complainin’,” he said as he gazed at Tuck. While reaching out to stroke Tuck’s smartly trimmed graying eyebrows, he lifted his butt and Bobby slid the jeans from his hips.

  “Henry, over at the Sharpened Shears,” Tuck replied in answer to Odis’s unspoken question. “He’s been doin’ me fer over ten years now.”

  “Humph,” Odis replied with a smirk. “And what exactly has this guy been doing?”

  As Bobby knelt between Odis’s legs, Tuck swatted Odis on the arm and said, “Nothin’ like that. Henry’s like, a hundred years old, and the nelliest queen ya’ve ever met.”

  “Nelly?” Odis asked.

  Tuck shook his head with a smirk. “Clueless straight guy,” he said while glancing down to Bobby squatted in front of Odis. He looked back at Odis. “Over-the-top effeminate. Like the worst of the stereotype.”

  “Oh,” Odis said while nodding with understanding. “Haven’t met him. I didn’t think we had any ‘nelliest queens’ around here.”

  “Not,” Tuck replied. “He’s in Jenkins. I’ve been goin’ there ever since I met him. He was at his sister’s house when some shit went down years ago.”

  Bobby reached out and playfully slapped Tuck’s knee. “Are we just gonna gossip over hairstylists? Or…?”

  Tuck grinned down at Bobby. “Impatient, are we?”

  Odis chuckled. “Who’s the horndog now?” he teased.

  Tuck adjusted his hips, trying to take the pressure off the bruise near his ankle. Moving didn’t help much. With a pat on Odis’s chest, he asked, “Can we move this to the bed?”

  “Sure,” Bobby agreed, standing. He reached out and took Odis’s hand and pulled the little man to his feet as Tuck also rose.

  Trailing behind Tuck, Bobby said, “I don’t have my duffel. You got supplies?”

  Tuck motioned to the nightstand. “Second drawer,” he told Bobby with a grin as he and Odis sat on the edge of the bed.

  Bobby opened the drawer and nearly laughed when he saw the array of lubricants, dildos, and other products neatly arranged in intricate columns inside. “Geez, Tuck, ya should go into retail. You’d have the neatest store shelves.”

  “Shut up,” Tuck muttered with a chuckle. “You’ve been snoopin’ my drawers?”

  Odis laughed. “We had ta find ya some socks and undies the other day. Bobby said it was like going shopping.”

  Bobby looked over the items in the drawer. “What’s on the menu tonight?” he asked as he retrieved a larger bottle of lube.

  Tuck gazed at Odis. “What would ya like, midget?”

  Odis scowled. “Don’t fuckin’ call me that.”

  Tuck looked wounded. “I’m sorry, Odie, I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” Odis cut him off. “Just don’t like that word. I hate it when yer brother calls ya that too.”

  “Well,” Tuck said with a sigh, “he means it affectionately, even though it started as payback.”

  “Payback?” Bobby asked.

  “Growing up, bein’ older, I was bigger and used to tease him with it. When Hawk hit puberty and outgrew me, he started teasing me back with it. Now it’s just kinda a thing.”

  Odis shook his head. “Still don’t like
it.”

  “Okay.” Tuck leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I won’t ever use it again.”

  With the drawer still open, Bobby glanced over at Odis and went back to the question. “What do you want, Odie?”

  “I still haven’t—ya know,” Odis said with a shrug.

  Tuck looked over at Bobby, sharing a worried glance. He knew neither he nor Bobby would be considered “starter” material.

  Bobby gave a weak smile, silently saying, If it’s what the man wants, and turned back to the contents of the drawer.

  Tuck looked back at Odis. “Ya sure?”

  Odis gave a stiff nod in reply. “Yeah.” He sat up straighter. “Ya wanna leave me with something to remember, right?”

  Bobby reached into the drawer and got the blue silicone stick arranged with smaller Ben Wa beads. The first bead was smaller than a pea, but each of the ten beads graduated larger in size along the stick to a final bead, about the diameter of a hefty English walnut. Bobby wrapped his hand around the large end and used his arm to shield the rest of the rubbery silicone stick before closing the drawer and going to the bed. “Okay,” Bobby said with a warm smile. “Then get the rest of those clothes off.”

  Tuck reached out and lifted Odis’s T-shirt off.

  While Odis’s head was covered, Bobby quickly removed his own T-shirt and hid the beads inside the wad of jersey cloth before dropping it on the bed next to the bottle of lube. Bobby watched Tuck move Odis farther up the bed as Bobby slipped off his shoes and socks. Bobby slithered out of his jeans as Tuck pulled the boxers down Odis’s legs, revealing a half-mast erection that continued to grow.

  After directing Odis to turn on his side facing away, Tuck tried to quickly yank off his sweatshirt, but the material grabbed and caught on an exposed part of the Velcro strip on the cast. Bobby leaned forward to help him untangle, then grasped Tuck by the shoulders and pulled him toward the edge of the bed. As Tuck dropped the sweatshirt on the floor, Bobby leaned in next to his ear and whispered, “You ever been with a virgin?”

  Tuck shook his head. “At least not that they said,” he whispered back. “You?” he asked as he slipped off his sweatpants.