by Jake Mactire
I remembered Mike having told me this before and being pleasantly surprised that he hadn’t had to sell himself just to have money to buy food.
“Mike, I am so sorry. I wish I had spoken up or said something to your father. I’d give anything if I could change the past. So would your father. He’s been eating himself alive with guilt from the time he got back from leaving you at the bus station. We went there, but the bus had already gone.”
“Yeah, well that’s water under the bridge now, ain’t it?” I could hear some of the bitterness and anger Mike had carried around for so long, surfacing in his voice. Although Mike was really trying to deal with the situation, the anger, bitterness, and hurt were right there, just below the surface.
“I understand how much we must have hurt you, Mike—”
He cut Madeline off before she could even finish. “You understand?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Pardon me, Mom, but I really don’t think anyone can understand just what I felt or what I went through. Do you know what it’s like to be betrayed by those closest to you?”
“No, Mike, I don’t. But I do know the shame and guilt for betraying someone close and dependant on me.” That stopped Mike for a minute, but he spoke up again.
“What about him?” There was a good amount of disgust in his voice when he said “him.” “Has he really changed? You said he feels guilty, so fuckin’ what? I’m not sure that guilty even begins to cover what he put me through. Even before he kicked me out, I was the one bein’ ridiculed by everyone in town. I was the one gettin’ the shit beat outta me regularly. I was the one thrown out on the streets because I asked for help. So what if he’s workin’ with PFLAG? So what if he feels bad? What he did to me, it’s illegal to do to a dog. Why should I even have anything to do with any of you? It’s not like you ever even tried to stop his abuse.”
Madeline was sobbing as she spoke up. “Mike, I am so sorry. There hasn’t been a minute since you left that I haven’t felt horrible and guilty and a total failure as a parent. Your father has changed. He’s spent almost all his time since you left trying to make sure that what happened to you doesn’t happen to anyone else—”
Mike cut in angrily. “Horrible and guilty? You said since I left. Well, I didn’t leave. I got thrown out. Fuck this shit. I don’t need any of you. Why do you have to stick up for him?”
“Don’t talk to her that way!” a new voice yelled over the phone. It must have been Guy.
“Fuck you, Guy. You’ve always had a roof over your head and three meals a day. You never had to go through what I did.”
I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder. “Easy there, cowboy.” He shook my hand off.
“I thought you were on my side. Don’t you even know how difficult this is for me? You and your perfect relationship with your father, you didn’t go through what I went through either.” He was red with anger, and a tear slipped down his cheek.
“Everything’s so easy for you, always the top cowboy, always the friend, always the popular one. Shit, Jeff, sometimes I think I’m just some charity project you took on.” He glared at me. I stared back at him, refusing to break eye contact. He finally looked away. I put my hand over his shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck.
I said to Madeline over the speakerphone, “Excuse us for a moment.” I turned off the speaker and looked at Mike.
“What?” He turned back to me and glared. I looked at him for a few seconds, and he broke eye contact again. In that instant, I stepped forward and took him in my arms. He stiffened at first, but then melded himself against me.
“You okay, Mike?”
“I’m really sorry, Jeffy. I do feel like a charity case you took on because you feel sorry for me.”
“Do I do anythin’ to make you feel that way?” He had buried his face in my shoulder at the crook of my neck. I just held him and rubbed his back.
After a few minutes, he finally responded.
“No, it’s just me. Why would someone like you ever want a damaged piece of trash like me?”
“Let’s see, could it be you’re as sharp as a whip, or maybe it’s the fact you’re so much fun to be with. It could be the fact that I really enjoy spendin’ time with you. Maybe the fact that I love you has somethin’ to do with it, or it just could be that you’re the handsomest guy on earth, have the body of death, and the sweetest ass I ever seen. Ya know, Mike, I bet it’s all of those things. Oh, and you gotta add to those things that I really admire, respect, and trust you, and you’re the guy I want by my side and at my back ’til we’re both little old men.” He started sobbin’ into my shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy.”
“Jeffy, I swear you’re a saint. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”
“If you can’t see it, let’s just agree that you do deserve me, okay?” He finally looked up at me, a sheepish grin on his face.
“Okay, and thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m here for ya. Now, are you ready to continue the conversation?”
“Yeah, I reckon so.” He reached over and turned on the speakerphone again.
“Guy, I’m sorry for jumpin’ on you like that. Mom, I didn’t mean to be rude, but I need to understand. The two things that hurt me the most were my havin’ thought he could help me, and that you didn’t stand up to him for me. If you want any type of contact, let alone a relationship, I gotta deal with the hurt from those two things. To deal with that, I need to understand it first. I reckon I still have a lot of anger and resentment buried. I thought I’d dealt with a bunch of it, but obviously not. I asked you about him, so I do wanna know, just like I want to understand what happened.”
Madeline was silent a moment. She seemed lost in her own private torment. She finally spoke up. “Mike, you have every right to ask that question, and I can’t blame you for being angry with me. The fact I didn’t stand up to your father on your behalf will haunt me to the day I die. I never stopped worrying about you, wondering about you, being afraid for you. When I read stories of street kids prostituting themselves to survive, it tore me apart. When I heard about the gay serial killer who is going up and down the west coast, I couldn’t deal with it, thinking maybe you were or could be one of his victims. I left your father after he kicked you out. We stayed in touch in case either one of us heard from you. I know he regrets what he did, but I regret what I didn’t do even more. At first, I let anger at your father get me through the days and nights. Then, however, I realized I was equally to blame. I tried to kill myself twice. Both times Guy found me. I finally got some counseling and help for all of us. Your father had found PFLAG, and we, all of us, started going to the meetings. It helped a bit, but it never erased the guilt I feel over the fact I did nothing.
“Mike, I don’t even know if I can explain to you my reasons. First of all, at the time, I believed as did your father, that the man is the head of the house, and the wife should listen to him and follow his decisions. I think that is garbage now, but at the time I was stupid enough to believe that.”
I could hear her sobbing as she spoke.
“When your father came to me and told me that you thought that you were gay, I was in a state of shock. I didn’t know anything about it, and I believed that you could never be happy being gay. I was so afraid for you, and I thought maybe God would change you. I was too blind and stupid and close-minded to see that you were the way God made you. By the time I had gotten over my shock, it was already too late. The worst and hardest part of this to admit is that by the time it was too late, I was so ashamed of myself, for not stepping in, for having been unable to handle your coming out, for even worrying what will the neighbors think, that I stayed silent. That is the thing I can never forgive myself for. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, because I can never forgive myself.” She started crying full out now.
Mike had had his head in his hands as she spoke. He said to her, “Mom, it’s gonna take me some time to come to terms with everythin’ and process all the inf
ormation that you and he gave me. One thing though, I do love you, and I do want you in my life. It’s gonna take time to rebuild a relationship, but I’m willin’ to give it a go.”
“Thank you, Mike, that’s more than I deserve.” She continued to cry. I could hear Guy and Eve in the background trying to comfort her.
Mike finally spoke. “Mom, Eve, Guy, I do wanna get your opinions on somethin’. I still got a lot of anger about what happened, and I’m very confused about and angry at him. I don’t even know what to call him. Dad just seems wrong. He says he’s changed. What do you think?”
Eve spoke first. “You know, Mike, he doesn’t expect you to ever forgive him. He feels what he did is unforgivable. He said to us that your just listening to him was way more than he deserves. I think his being so involved with PFLAG in part is a kind of atonement. He wants to educate others to try and prevent someone else from ruining a bunch of lives through ignorance.”
“He said that?”
“The part about ruining a bunch of lives, yes, he did say.”
“You know, Mike, after you were gone, Mom left Dad. Eve went with her. I tried to stay with Dad for a little bit, and every night he woke me up crying over what he did. I know his regret doesn’t make it right, but I do believe he’s sincere.” Guy’s voice had almost a pleading quality to it.
“Son, he has changed. He’s a totally different man now than he was when you were at home. I think when he realized how heinous the things he did to you actually were, it broke him. Maybe that is what it took to show him that what we believed was not based on love but on hate.”
“It’s hard for me to realize that the person you’re talkin’ about is the one who abused me so badly.”
“It was hard for us to believe too,” Madeline added, and then Eve spoke.
“Honestly, it took years before we believed it wasn’t an act.”
“I got a good amount to think on. I’m much obliged for the opinions. Now, let’s talk about somethin’ else. You know I’m gonna make gumbo tomorrow.”
“That’s great, Mike. Can I help with a recipe?” Madeline was ready to jump right in.
“I appreciate your offerin’. I reckon I know how to make it from watchin’ you when I was there.”
“Hey, Mike, Jeff, I saw a bunch of people skiing beside the road in one of the magazines about you guys. I thought people skied on hills.” Guy wasn’t afraid to ask a question.
“This type of skiin’ is called Nordic or cross-country. It’s a lot of fun and one hell of a workout. Mike and I go all the time.”
“Can I come out and visit you guys and try it?”
“Sure, do you got clothes for cold weather?” Mike asked.
“No, not really.”
“You can borrow some of my gear. Jeffy, we got more skis around here somewhere, don’t we?”
“Yep, we have several pairs extra.”
“You’re welcome anytime, Guy. So are you, Mom, and Eve. Speaking of skiin’, we’re plannin’ on goin’ tomorrow. We ski several days a week.”
“Mike, Jeff, in the articles it looked like you were having a lot of fun when you were downtown singing and had the Santa caps over your cowboy hats. I know Mike can sing. Can you sing too, Jeff?” Eve laughed as she asked the question.
“Jeff can sing real good. We do karaoke in town all the time. The Schoolhouse Brewery gives me, Jeffy, Maria, and Smitty free food and drinks because we bring a lot of tourists in when we sing.”
“Mike’s right, and we had a lot of fun Christmas caroling in town for Christmas at the End of the Road. That’s when the pictures were taken.”
“Is it true you were making everyone sing ‘Christmas for Cowboys’ and ‘Santa got lost in Texas’?” Eve asked me.
“It sure is. Mike, Smitty, and me are all cowboys, and Maria grew up on a ranch and is pretty comfortable on a horse. It just fit.” Mike nudged me.
We began to sing “Christmas for Cowboys” together. The Christmas tree was still up, so it was appropriate. Everyone clapped. The rest of the conversation was pleasant. No one mentioned Mike’s father again except for Mike, when they were about to hang up.
“I’ll tell him he can come for New Year’s Eve, but I don’t want him tryin’ to be all buddy-buddy with me.”
“That’s good of you to do that, Mike,” Madeline answered.
They ended the call, and Mike and I headed upstairs. When we got to our room, I closed the door and grabbed Mike by the collar. I pulled him in to me for a kiss. After a forceful minute where I kissed him roughly, I broke the kiss and shook his collar a bit.
“Shuck ’em, cowboy!” He understood I was tellin’ him to strip. While he was doin’ that, I lit some votive candles and got out a bottle of lavender and rosemary oil. I stripped down and joined him on the bed. We kissed again, slowly and tenderly this time, our tongues dancing in each other’s mouths. The flickering candlelight shone off his red-gold beard. I could smell a pine scent from the candles and the familiar clean and musky smell of Mike. I pushed him down on the bed gently.
“Lie on your belly, buddy.” He did, and wiggled his ass at me. I had other ideas first though. I straddled his hips, my balls settling into the soft furry valley of his ass. He moaned at the contact. I reached over, opened the bottle of oil, and let some dribble onto my hands, warming it. I leaned forward and put my hands on his shoulders. I softly spread the oil and then began to slowly but vigorously knead the muscles in his shoulders and upper back.
“You’re all tensed up. Your Jeffy’s gonna get you loose and relaxed. Just enjoy, buddy.”
“This is nice, Jeffy. Your massagin’ my shoulders feels great.” I began to push with the heel of one hand into his upper back and massaged the back of his neck with the other hand.
“It’s been a tough, stressful couple of days for ya, and I’m gonna make you relax. Feels good, don’t it? Me touchin’ you, rubbin’ you?”
“Where’d you learn to massage like this?”
“I used to get massages in San Francisco, and I just remember what felt good.” I squirted some oil on his back and moved down, massaging his laterals and lower back. He was sighing in pleasure as I worked the knots and kinks outta his back. I could feel him relaxing under my touch. I ran the heels of my hands up and down the V-shape of his back. Mike has broad shoulders and a well defined chest and lateral muscles and a skinny little waist.
“Mike, buddy, you are such a beautiful man. I love lookin’ at you, and touchin’ you like this is really nice.” I was rock hard now, and I assumed Mike was too, but the moment wasn’t really sexual. It was more sensual, both of us reveling in the sense of touch and the feel of massaging and being massaged. The clean sweat smell of Mike, the scent of the pine candles, and the rosemary and lavender in the oil contributed to the sensuality of the moment, as did the candlelight. I moved down and began massaging his ass. He had this beautiful red-tinged-gold fur over both cheeks. His ass was rock hard. As I touched it, he whimpered.
“You got the sweetest ass, buddy. Nice and furry, and so hard. I could bounce a quarter off of your ass. Feels nice bein’ massaged like this, don’t it?” He spread his legs a little bit. I continued to knead his ass until he was really relaxed and moved down to his legs. When I began rubbing his hamstrings, he was softly murmuring.
“That’s good, Jeffy. I’m tight there from all the skiin’. What you’re doin’ is incredible.”
“I’m just takin’ care of ya, buddy, makin’ you feel good.”
“’Ssss good, Jeffy, real good.” He sighed again, a relaxed, happy sigh. I worked my way down his calves. They were tight too. He was right, between the skiing and the family drama, he had been tightly coiled. I enjoyed the feel of him melting into my hands, relaxing at my touch. By the time I was done with his calves, he was loose and limber.
“Okay, buddy, turn over on your back now.” He languidly rolled over. I had been right: he was rock hard. He was running his eyes over my body as I did the same to him. I found Mike indescri
bably beautiful. Although beautiful isn’t a word used for men often, with Mike it fit. His was a rough, lean, hard, masculine beauty.
“Buddy, you are so fuckin’ gorgeous, all that muscle and fur, those sexy tawny eyes of yours, that fire crotch, that cute smile. I never get tired of lookin’ at you.”
“I like lookin’ at you too, Jeffy. In my book, you’re the handsomest man on earth. I like lookin’ at that big cock of yours too. First time I saw you hard, remember what I said?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I remember. You asked me if I play baseball with it.”
“Now I know you put it to a lot better use.” I leaned over and kissed him, slowly, sensually. I pulled up and again straddled his hips. Our balls and cocks were nestled together, and the way they touched was an incredibly intimate feelin’. I squirted some oil on his chest and began to rub his shoulders and chest. He has a lot of blond fur on his chest and belly, and with the oil and candlelight it shone like burnished gold. As I massaged, we looked in each other’s eyes, each one of us silently speaking volumes by looks alone. He sighed contentedly as I moved down his chest and brushed over his nipples. I began to massage the muscles in his belly. I took my time, slowly working down his body, just enjoying the pleasure I was giving him. I bypassed his cock and balls when I got to that area. I started working his thighs. They were also tight from all the skiing we’d been doing. As I massaged his legs, he unconsciously spread them. I could feel him relaxing. By the time I had done both his legs, his muscles were relaxed. He stared up at me with a content and peaceful look. I lay down beside him and leaned over him. He put his arms around my neck, and I softly traced his lips with my tongue. He opened his mouth, and I slipped in, moving slowly over his teeth and lips before meeting his tongue. He must have liked it. He started whimpering into my mouth.