Twisted

by Jake Mactire

  “Here I was hopin’ you’d leave the jock strap on for me.”

  “Once we get home, all you gotta do is ask.”

  “Believe me, I will.”

  I stretched. Robert looked over. “Jeffrey, did I hear you say you and Michael are taking a small vacation?”

  “You did—”

  Before I could finish, Mike cut me off. “That’s right, Rob. We’re gonna go down to Tucson, and then to Bisbee and Tombstone. While we’re in that area, Jeffy wants to show me Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. Then it’s on to the Grand Canyon and some of the stuff in north Arizona. It’ll be a rushed week, but it should be fun.”

  “My name’s Robert, Michael. And you’re correct, it does sound like fun. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

  “That’s what I said, Rob, and thanks for the well wishes. So what’s the awards ceremony this evenin’?” Mike turned his attention to me.

  “They hand out the buckles and prizes and stuff. So have you enjoyed your first gay rodeo?”

  “Yeah, I have. I don’t like it when guys come on to you all the time. Other than that, I’ve really enjoyed it though.”

  “Mike, please get over it. I can’t help what other people say and do. I reckon I haven’t encouraged ’em in any way, and I always make sure everyone knows you and I are partners. When someone gets all hot and bothered by you, it’s a compliment to me. You’re with me and not him.”

  “I reckon so. Still bothers me though.”

  I changed the subject. “So, you thinkin’ on catchin’ up to me in bull ridin’?”

  “I’m gonna leave you in the dust in bull ridin’, Jeffy.” He grinned at me.

  I chuckled. “We’ll see.” We were waiting for the bull riding. It was our last event and the last event of the rodeo. We watched the people go by until we heard the call for bull riders. We headed off to the chutes. I had a thought and it caused me to chuckle. Mike looked at me questioningly.

  “You remember you thought it would be nice if we dressed alike?”

  “I remember,” he answered guardedly, since when we’d talked about it, it was very obvious I didn’t think it would be fun to dress alike.

  “I reckon we’re gonna at least have one set of matchin’ buckles for the calf ropin’.”

  He looked at me, happiness written all over his face. “I never woulda thought a year ago that I’d be in a relationship with a man who I can rodeo with.”

  “Just remember though, that man is gonna whup your ass at bull ridin’.” Today, I was riding first, and Mike was second. Jeanette was up before either of us, and she stayed on, the only woman today to do so. The buckle was hers. Soon it was my turn. It took me a while to get settled on the bull. My heart was racing in anticipation, and I could feel an adrenaline buzz. I’d watched the bulls closely yesterday and had a bit of an idea of the “book,” or bucking pattern, of the bull I was riding today. I looked up at Mike from my seat on the bull inside the chute. I nodded and yelled, “Pull!”

  The gate swung open. It seemed I was in a tornado. Bull riding (or bareback bronc, or steer riding) makes time seem to go in slow motion. The six or eight seconds you’re on the animal’s back seems hours. Time was now in that foggy, slow-moving period. I instinctively felt what the bull was doing and compared it to my memory of his book to anticipate his next move and balance. It didn’t keep me from being tossed around. The world around me was a blur. I could taste the dust the bull was kicking up, smell the hay-and-cattle smell of him. All I could hear was his grunts as he attempted to throw me. I felt myself fly up into the air. I twisted and landed where I thought I should be. I was right, and that made the bull even madder. I reckoned that the buzzer must be broken. I was holding on tight with one hand, and with each buck it felt as if my arm was going to get pulled out of the socket. Just when I thought time had stopped completely, I heard the buzzer. I’d covered! Now I just had to get off the bull. I was about to jump when I saw the pickup man beside me. I leaned toward him and grabbed his outstretched hand. He pulled hard, and I half climbed, half was thrown behind him. He galloped a bit away from the bull, that was now focused on the two rodeo clowns. He set me down close to the chutes, and I jumped over the arena fence.

  “Good ride, cowboy!” he said to me as I was jumping the fence.

  Mike was there and threw his arms around me. “Yeah, real good ride, Jeff. You were in perfect form.” Jeanette nodded when Mike spoke. “I reckon you’re gonna get fifty points there, Jeffy.”

  “I flew up in the air a bit once.”

  “Yeah, but you landed back on the bull in perfect form.”

  “We’ll see.” We sat together on the rail of the arena waiting for the judges to announce my score.

  “The judges are done now, and we have forty-nine points for Jeff Connolly out of Winslett, Washington. Jeff’s an actual, real, working cowboy, sponsored by the Lucky Jeff Ranch. He’s competed with us for quite a few years now. Good ride, Jeff!” Jeanette was clapping me on the back. Mike gave me a big kiss. I heard several clicks. Folks were taking pictures of us.

  “You all but got the buckle. You were tied for first place one day and first the other day.”

  “You still gotta buck yet, buddy. You might come out on top.”

  He grinned at me and winked. “Now that’d be a damn pity.” I laughed and so did Jeanette.

  We went back behind the chutes. The bull Mike was set to ride was in the chute. He got his gloves on and grasped the rope around the bull and then moved around, trying to settle on the bull, in a way he’d have the best balance. The bull tried to buck but couldn’t, due to the small size of the stall. Mike looked up at me.

  “Good ride, cowboy. Come back safe to me.”

  “You got it, Jeffy. Pull!” The gate swung open and the bull sprang out. Mike had gotten a good bull. I noticed right quick that he wasn’t quite as balanced as he could be, and with every buck it took him just a millisecond longer to get back on balance. After a few times of being thrown up in the air, he couldn’t get his balance. I gasped as he went flying through the air. I could hear the thud when he hit. The bull came down, and I saw its hind leg hit Mike’s thigh with a hard, though glancing, blow.

  One of the rodeo clowns ran out to distract the bull. Mike was conscious. He rolled up into a little ball. I knew how he felt, hoping that the clown would distract the bull so he could get up. The clown got the bull’s attention, and it began to run right at him. I looked around. Where in the hell was the other clown? Just then the rodeo clown vaulted over the arena wall. The bull rammed into it. He turned around. Supported by the other rodeo clown, Mike was up and limping to the side of the arena. The pickup men rode by, trying to distract the bull, but he had one thing on his mind: Mike, who he seemed to know he just bucked off.

  He stood there pawing the ground, about to charge. Without even thinking, I leapt over the arena wall. I ran right up behind the bull and kicked him as hard as I could.

  I heard the crowd collectively gasp at the same time I was yelling, “Move it, Mike!” The bull turned and began to charge straight at me. Hoping I wasn’t making a mistake, I waited and then jumped to the side. The bull grazed me lightly as he ran by. I started running in the other direction. I heard a commotion behind me. I was praying that it was the pickup men, herding the bull out of the arena, but I wasn’t about to stop and look. The arena fence and announcer’s box was right in front of me. I jumped up on the fence and then jumped higher to grab the edge of the announcer’s box. I felt several arms grab me, and I swung up and into the box. There was a huge crash below. The bull had rammed into the place I’d been standing just a second ago. The announcer looked at me as if I’d sprouted another head.

  “First of all, let’s give a big round of applause to Mike Guidry for a great try.” I heard lots of clapping. The announcer continued. “Mike’s also a working cowboy outta Winslett, Washington. He’s sponsored by the Lucky Jeff Ranch. His partner Jeff is the man you just saw attack the bull as well as provide us wit
h a stunning display of gymnastics. Jeff, any words for our spectators?” He handed me the mike, and I knew each of the rodeo clowns had a microphone also. One of them was still with Mike.

  “You okay there, buddy?” I could see Mike from across the arena. The clown handed him a mike.

  “Other than a few bruises, right as rain.”

  “Hey, Mike, will you marry me? When we can get married, that is.” The crowd grew silent.

  “If you don’t pull no damn fool stunt like that again, I will!” The crowd erupted in a loud cacophony of cheers, applause, laughter, and catcalls. I handed the mike back to the announcer.

  I headed down the stairs from the box and around the arena to Mike.

  “Just what in the hell were you thinkin’, Jeff? I was okay.”

  “It just looked like the bull was gonna go after you and the guy helpin’ you rather than the other clown or the pickup men.”

  He looked up at me and smiled. “Did you think I was gonna say no to you?”

  “I just wanted to remind you how special you are to me and how I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “I see that every time you look at me, silly. It is nice to hear, though.”

  MIKE and I had a quick dinner and headed back to our room. The red message light was blinking on the hotel phone. Mike picked it up, pressed a couple of buttons, and then listened. His eyes grew wide and he put the phone down. “Jeffy, we gotta go right away. Holder showed up and took my dad in for questioning. He asked him to submit to a polygraph test.”

  Although we’d had vacation plans, Mike’s dad was a lot more important.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE cold northern light filtered through the skylight. It took me a second to get my bearings as I woke up. I was waking up at home and Mike was cuddled up next to me. The light was stronger than it had been, and I realized that winter was winding down. It was still cold enough to be glad we had the down comforter. The last couple of days had been really hectic. Since Al had been staying in town at one of the motels, he really hadn’t been able to verify his whereabouts all the time. When Holder saw him stand up after his foot fell asleep—he had been sitting awhile—Holder got suspicious. I reckon he was thinking of Al’s past homophobia and his treatment of Mike. We’d packed up, talked to the rodeo folks, and headed to the airport, where we were able to get on a flight to San Francisco. By the time we got there, we were able to pick up Al at the FBI branch office on Golden Gate Street. Although the lie detector test had been inconclusive, the fact he had no leg injury was sufficient evidence that he wasn’t involved. I remembered our time with Al in San Francisco very well.

  “Hey, Dad, how ya doin’?”

  “I’m glad the last eight hours or so are over. I’m trying to see the whole experience as a good thing.”

  “How in the hell can you see it as a good thing? That idiot Holder goin’ after you rather than lookin’ for real suspects is ridiculous. He needs to get his head out of his ass.” Mike was furious.

  “Mike, you of all people should know I haven’t always been a friend to the gay community. Holder’s only doing his job. I can’t blame him for putting me on the suspect list after what I did to you. And with my work, I do go up and down the coast. If he’s checking out every clue like he did with me, I have no doubt he’ll eventually catch this guy. I’m really not looking forward to tomorrow.”

  “Why’s that, Al?” I asked the question, as it still looked like Mike was fuming about Holder.

  “I have a counseling session that is going to be very difficult. The family with whom I’ll be speaking had kicked their fourteen-year-old son out for being gay. That was seven years ago. He tried to contact them several times, but they rebuffed his efforts. His mother was a bit more open-minded than the father. She decided to reestablish contact with her son. It was too late, though. He disappeared about ten months ago. Some hikers found his body this weekend, along the coast, north of the Bay Area.” The pain on his face was obvious. Mike actually looked like he was at a loss as to what to say. I was waiting for him to make some sarcastic remark, but he didn’t.

  “I reckon that’s a real nice thing you’re doin’, helpin’ those folks, Dad.”

  Al got all choked up. “Thanks, Mike. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  “Another victim of the Cutter, eh? I hope they catch that maniac pretty quick, before he can hurt anyone else.”

  “You and me both, Jeff.”

  “Was this guy a new victim?” Mike asked.

  “No, they were counting him among the victims. Now it’s been confirmed.”

  “You okay, Jeffy? You look a little pale there.”

  “I’m okay, buddy. I was just rememberin’ those pictures and the threat.” Mike’s dad looked from me to Mike.

  “What pictures? What threat?”

  I sighed. “I reckon it ain’t exactly a secret. Last week I got a letter from the Cutter sayin’ that I was on his list. There were pictures of some of his victims. It was pretty gruesome.”

  Al looked very serious. “How are you two protecting yourselves?”

  “I try to make sure I’m with Jeffy all the time. I enjoy that part. Jokin’ aside, we make sure the alarm is set at night, the guys and Jeanette in the bunkhouse are all on the lookout, and we’re real careful. Jeff’s always with somebody.”

  “I don’t imagine there’s too much more you can do, other than be on the lookout and be observant all the time. Do you boys want me to come back up to Winslett after I’m done with the counseling here in San Francisco?”

  “That’s awful nice of you, Al, but I don’t reckon it’s necessary. Damn maniac is bound to make a mistake sometime and get caught. Besides, we’re only a phone call away.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Dad. It’s mighty nice of you to offer.”

  “I imagine you’re going to hear about it on the news, but they found several bodies along with the one I mentioned. They think that it is someplace that the Cutter was familiar enough with to use as a dumping ground.”

  “That’s what is so weird about this case, according to Agent Holder and the sheriff. It seems like the Cutter is familiar with quite a bit of territory, all up and down the West Coast.” I looked at Al when I spoke.

  Al said quietly, “Yeah, I remember Holder telling me that.”

  Mike added, really quickly, “They got DNA and evidence though. If they ever get a suspect, they can prove or disprove he’s the Cutter, right quick.”

  “I heard from Mary Grace the other day that Spencer is asking folks to pray for the Cutter to give him success in his ‘God given mission’.”

  Al looked very angry. “Spencer is one twisted and sick individual, Jeff.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me on that.”

  “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. How did you two do in the rodeo?”

  “Mike and I both got at least one buckle, and we got some together too.”

  “That’s great. Are you planning to compete in the San Francisco gay rodeo in the summer?”

  Mike glanced up at his dad. “We’re plannin’ on it, why?”

  “The committee putting on the rodeo asked me to give the invocation during the grand entry ceremonies.”

  “That’s nice, Dad. Jeff and I’ll be there, and you can be there to cheer us on.”

  “I’ll enjoy that, Mike. It will be nice to see you in action.”

  “We’ll certainly miss havin’ you around. You know we’re never more than a phone call away, and you’re always welcome. Hell, next time please stay at the ranch instead of in town,” I said.

  “If that’s okay with you guys, I will.” We both looked at Mike.

  He actually smiled. “Yeah, you better stay with us. I don’t wanna have to bail you outta jail again for kickin’ the shit outta Spencer.”

  “Thanks, Mike. I’ve learned a lot from you two about relationships and love and quite a bit from your friends also.”

  “What do you mean, from
our friends?”

  “Well, Mike, I was speaking with Mary Grace about spirituality. She was explaining to me her beliefs. It’s refreshing to hear someone say that there are many paths to the divine. She did also mention that she should respect all religions equally, but she really has difficulty with respecting what Christianity has become.”

  “I like her beliefs, Al. They make a lot more sense to me than the hatred Spencer and most fundies preach. The idea of ‘harm none’ is nice. It’s like the golden rule, but without any judgment or condemnation.”

  Al looked at me seriously. “When I first started with PFLAG, I did a study about religion and people changing faiths. Most people who convert to Wicca or other pagan religions, or religions like Buddhism, have been so turned off by Christianity that they flee.”

  “On a slightly different note, I asked Mike to marry me.”

  “Sure did.” Mike turned red, but looked very pleased.

  “That is fantastic!” Al gathered us both in a hug. After a second, he wiped his eyes. He had teared up. Then he added, “I hope gay marriage in the entire country is a reality soon. I know you’re domestic partners, but gay folks still need the protection of marriage. I’ve seen too many people lose everything because their partner had died unexpectedly, and the family would swoop down like vultures, trying to get everything.”

  “Gay folks with kids need protection too. Remember the case back East where a grandmother took her daughter’s kids away from her because the daughter was a lesbian? The scary thing is that the court agreed with her. Morals based on any one religion have no place in the legal system. Ethics based on decency are different.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me on that, Jeff. Are you two going to have a commitment ceremony, or something similar?”

  “We talked about it a bit, Dad. We were thinkin’ of askin’ Mary Grace to perform the ceremony. We also thought that it would be real nice if you could say a blessing and prayer for us.” Al beamed. His eyes got moist again. I wasn’t about to tell him that it took quite a bit of convincing to get Mike to buy into that.