by Limor Moyal
It wasn’t his concern or his place to investigate, however, he insisted on giving Tom the Jeep, claiming it would be more comfortable for him, and that he wouldn’t need any favors or cabs. Secretly he just hoped that Tom would come back that night, and he could see him again before he went back to the army.
Tom wore jeans, a black tank top and a biker jacket, took the Jeep’s keys, sent Dan a smile and a little wink, “Later, ‘Just Dan’,” he said, and shut the door behind him.
Dan tried falling asleep, but sleep eluded him. He imagined scenarios of Tom being in a dark smoky bar and big bearded men in black leather clothes touching him. He turned to the other side trying to make the horrible thought go away, just to encounter an alternative scenario in which he saw Tom inside a filthy bathroom, on his knees in front of a rough looking man. What was happening to him?!
He was mad at himself and went to the bathroom to take a sleeping pill, he knew that tonight he could only find sleep with chemical assistance.
He woke up to the sounds of Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles, and given that he wasn’t the one to choose the song as his wake up ringtone, it could’ve only been Tom. He smiled and wriggled all over the bed, while giving himself over to the familiar sounds.
It was seven thirty, so he quickly got ready, hoping to see Tom downstairs, before he returned to base.
To his disappointment, but not surprise, he found a note folded into four, and the Jeep’s keys were used as a weight on the note.
He carefully opened the paper, careful that maybe Tom hid a surprise there.
But there was nothing there, other than Tom’s already familiar handwriting.
Good morning Dan,
I hope you enjoyed The Beatles, I thought it might be nice for you to wake up to such an optimistic song (It’s a good thing I'm not next to you because you would’ve probably thrown a vase at me).
Dan laughed. He was on to him exactly, despite knowing each other for a relatively short time.
I'm glad to tell you that the Jeep’s fine, it was a hell of a ride, and you best be ready to lend it to me again.
Sorry I went out last night, even though I knew you hoped we’d spend the evening together but I felt like what you found out about me was weighing on you, and you needed the space. I went to see a good friend of mine in Tel-Aviv, he’s also a lone soldier and rents an apartment with his girlfriend.
I'm not apologizing or justifying myself to you, for having a boring evening instead of going hunting in a dark bar. I just know you wanted to ask where I was going and you controlled yourself. I appreciate it and that’s why I'm telling you anyway.
That doesn’t mean of course that a pick up bar is not on the menu for next time. Anyway, I'll text you when I'm leaving the base again.
Have a great weekend,
Tom.
6 Take the Mountain out of the Green
“I really don’t understand why it bothers me so much. It’s not that I have anything against gays. I've never thought about two men in a relationship as something repulsive, or problematic, and it's not coming from my 'politically correct' persona or ‘left wing enlightenment’, or because it’s the right thing to say. I really think it’s okay to fuck, or love whoever you want to, as long as it’s between two consenting adults.”
Dan was laying on Mike’s chaise longue, after pondering and trying to understand it himself, why Tom wouldn’t get out of his head, and why the truth about Tom's tendencies bothered him so much.
“Maybe it bothers you because suddenly he looks a bit feminine to you, and you’re in a phase of your life where women are unwelcome,” suggested Mike.
“Tom doesn’t have a drop of femininity. He’s the complete opposite of the gay stereotype. He’s just an ordinary guy, who happens to be attracted to men and not women. He doesn’t have a feminine diction, or a stylish walk, or exaggerated physical mannerisms, nothing! So, no, I'm not threatened by his femininity.”
“So what is it that you are threatened by?” asked Mike.
Dan took a moment to think, and after they eliminated all the other options, he suddenly realized.
“I think I'm jealous!” he declared.
“Jealous of Tom?”
“Yes, jealous of Tom. He’s so free in his skin, he knows exactly who he is, and he’s at peace with it. He’s not hiding from anything, or hiding the facts, and he has the guts to deal with the consequences.
He’s willing to risk not being liked, he doesn’t let what other people think, or how people treat him, affect his decision to be himself. He’s just at peace with who he is and I'm jealous! Mike, that’s it, I'm jealous, and I wish I could’ve been able to tell him that, because he’s walking around feeling like he’s living with a scared homophobe, and it couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“You can always share this discovery with him,” suggested Mike.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen. But now when I know where my distress is coming from, and my discomfort towards him, it’ll be easier to control.”
“Let’s go back to the jealousy issue. You say you’re jealous of him because he’s willing to lose people, or their good opinion of him, for the sake of preserving his individuality. I agree with him by the way, it’s the right calculation and not everyone knows how to do it, where does it meets you?”
“Dr. David Greenberg, my father and the man who raised me. You’re probably sick of hearing me blaming all my quirks and emotional traumas on one person.”
“Not at all, you don’t have to be Freud to know that the way we were parented is an integral part of our identity,” Mike tried to remove Dan’s emotional blocks, to let him continue.
“Do you know the custom of the Chinese nobility? In the ancient world, when they’d bind the feet of little girls? They’d do that in order to stop the feet from growing, so they’d turn into women that walk with grace and gentleness, and hold themselves like a swan. And underneath those little Chinese swan’s dresses, were inflammations, agonizing pain, and unfathomable anatomical distortions. But it wasn’t important, because in order to present a swan-like persona, apparently you have to suffer.”
Dan stopped for a moment to organize his thoughts, to express himself without sounding pathetic or miserable. He hated feeling like a cry-baby in his sessions with Mike. After a while, he kept going. “I was that swan. My father made it clear what I need to aspire to, what occupation I need to acquire, the kind of woman I need to marry. And if I wouldn’t fulfill those expectations he would be disappointed. He was my entire world, I admired him. Seeing him disappointed hurt me like having a bound foot.”
“But there were moments when you rebelled,” said Mike with hesitation.
“Even when I rebelled it was in moderation, so I wouldn’t break the rules and be abandoned completely. I couldn’t afford losing him. So instead of going to medical school like he wanted me to, I studied biotechnology and founded GreenTech. It was a compromise we could both live with. Before I got inducted I changed my last name to Green. I told him it’s les foreign, he was upset but he accepted it, because I only ‘took the Mountain out of the Green’, I didn’t change the color completely.”
“Why did you change your last name really?” asked Mike. Not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he thought it was worth mentioning to Dan.
“He wanted me to be Dr. Greenberg when I finished high-school. It was clear to me that I wouldn’t become a doctor, and just ‘Greenberg,’ without some academic title hanging in front of it, felt like blasphemy to me, basically I'm just a coward.”
Mike smiled a gentle, understanding smile, “I think you were being brave with those decisions. You went with the career that suited you, even though you knew that the only person who probably loved you, threatened to take his love away, and you still decided to do it.
That took great courage, if you ask me. It’s obviously much easier to keep things the way they are, to lean on the comfort of the status-quo, and not to take action. It�
��s true about every aspect in life, and still you decided to stand tall and do something you knew would piss him off. Let me offer you a little bit of a different explanation about the name changing thing: I think it wasn’t done out of cowardice or your lack of will to degrade the name ‘Greenberg.’ I think you were searching for yourself, the real Dan, that doesn’t live by his father’s rules, and maybe it was a gambit, you gave yourself a new last name, and you basically gave birth to your new self.”
Dan was silent and smiling.
“I don’t understand how you didn’t change your last name, you were already born with the title, ‘Michael Doctor,’ it’s like being born in China with bound feet, just horrible!”
“Yeah, it’s not easy being born with this last name, not necessarily because I felt obligated to carry the name. As a child it invited a lot of teasing, but I admit I didn’t feel the need to justify the title, and I'm a doctor just by chance. My parents never pressured me to be the name, and just between you and me, they didn’t believe that I'd become a doctor, even in their wildest dreams. I spent the entire 60’s in a cloud of pot smoke, when we still lived in San-Francisco. I swear I don’t remember anything from that time. It was a ten-year blackout.”
Dan sent him a grin.
“It makes me wonder what’s inside that pipe of yours, doctor.”
“Sadly, today it’s only tobacco,” replied Mike. “Before you leave I want to add something about your jealousy thing for Tom. You said you were jealous of him, among other things, because he doesn’t care what other people think of him and he lives at peace with himself. Then you explained that under your father’s long shadow, you didn’t have the autonomy to be yourself. I assume that the years with Lena were also a struggle, trying to be something you’re not for her. But now when they’re both gone, it seems to me like there’s no one threatening your ability to be yourself. The people surrounding you, other than your father and Lena, were never really of much interest to you, not to mention their opinion of you, given all of this, I wonder, why are you jealous? Is this the real reason why the thing with Tom bothers you?”
Dan didn’t know what to say, and while the question still echoed, he realized that he’d left the meeting with Mike much more confused than he’d arrived.
7 Days of Tom
It had been ten days since Dan heard a word from Tom, ten days in which he couldn’t stop thinking about him, worrying about him and waiting for a sign of life that eventually came as a text.
Tom: We came back just now, I had no reception so I wasn’t able to contact you. We finished an op duty and we have a few days leave, I'll come back on Tuesday and I can be home until Sunday.
Dan melted a little bit from the word “home,” which felt so natural in Tom’s text.
Dan: I'm happy to hear you’re okay, you feel like having anything special on Tuesday?
Tom: The stuffed mushrooms - I couldn’t stop fantasizing about them.
Dan: I can’t believe that after two weeks of operational work in the field, your fantasies would be culinary.
Tom: A big mushroom with white sauce on top? Culinary? Who said anything about culinary?
Dan: You’re a very, very sick person, Texas. You know that?
Tom: It’s called ‘Horny,’ you should try it once. (:
Dan: I did, it cost me eight million shekels, and filled my house with expensive junk.
Tom: Maybe you haven’t tried it with the right person.
It was quite obvious he hadn’t tried it with the right person, but the fact that Tom used the word ‘person’ and not ‘woman’ didn’t escape him.
Flirting, was that the game they were playing then?
He could do that, there’s nothing harmful about flirting, it doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman. It wouldn’t lead anywhere. It was just joking around, but would he have played this game with a man who wasn’t Tom? The answer was clear to him, it was Tom, only Tom making things come up he didn’t know resided within him. He started to panic.
Tom arrived on Tuesday to an empty house. He had a key so it wasn’t a problem, and he managed to take a shower and organize his dirty laundry, and even take a little nap.
Dan arrived relatively late, even though he had wanted to cook before Tom’s arrival, he’d been hit by a series of tasks he hadn’t planned on, and, to top it off, Ayalon highway gave him a nice traffic jam on the Rokah interchange because a chicken-carrying truck lost control, the cages were all over the road, and the unfortunate incident ended with three dead chickens and a feather covered road that looked like a pillow-fight had gotten seriously out of control. And why was there a traffic jam? Because everyone stopped to look at the fiasco instead of driving past the mess.
When he came home he immediately knew Tom was there because the alarm was off, he smiled and calmed down. It was a nice ending to a chaotic day.
“Tom?” he said loudly, but without shouting.
The silence told him that his soldier was probably tired, and it would be best to let him sleep. He started making dinner. He’d done the shopping yesterday, and even managed to cook the roast with potatoes and carrots when he came back from the supermarket.
He made the stuffed mushrooms, and chopped up a salad. The house was filled with smells of cooking, and Tom came down with a huge smile and a bad case of bed-head.
Dan wanted to hug him, and almost instinctively went to do so, when reason stopped him at the last second. What’s with a hug all of a sudden? Where had this foolish idea suddenly come from? Maybe he was confused and scared of his own actions, so he gave his biggest smile instead.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“Are you kidding me?! I'm drooling just from thinking about those mushrooms.”
“It’ll be ready in a jiffy.”
Tom went to the fridge and took out two bottles of beer, opened them, and gave one to Dan.
“How was your week Jedi?”
“Jedi? Are you a Star-Wars fan?”
“You didn’t guess it yet, Jedi?” gracefully smiled Tom.
“So what do you feel like doing on your days off, Texas?”
“Mmmm I have a few annoying errands to run, the DMV and such. I want to meet some friends I didn’t get to see, and you’ll probably be happy to hear that a few of your pieces of crap were sold on eBay, so I need to pack and send them, and that means time, handling, and a trip to the post office. Other than that, I'm free!”
“I need to be at the office during the day, but in the evenings and on the weekend I'm at your service.”
He looked up to see Tom’s reaction, “Of course, that is if you WANT to do something together,” he hesitantly suggested.
“Of course I want to do something together,” said Tom with a sly smile.
“If you’re planning on taking me to some gay bar, forget about it. Texas!”
Tom laughed, “There’s no chance I'm taking you to a gay bar!”
Dan couldn’t stop himself, and completely against his will he asked, “Why not?”
Tom looked at him, shocked and amused, “Because, first of all, if you join me people will probably think we’re a couple. Which means I'm coming back home alone and horny, and that alone is a great reason not to take you,” he smiled and kept going, “besides, you’ll steal all the hot guys from me…”
Dan looked at him, eyes and mouth wide open, and he couldn’t utter a word.
“Why are you so shocked? Have you looked in the mirror lately, Dan? You’re hot! With the shiny black hair, and the blue eyes, and your Roman face and that straight nose of yours, and that’s before we mention your body!”
Dan blushed so hard that he imagined even his bones turned red. It’s not that he didn’t like compliments or didn’t appreciate them, but from his experience they always hid some sort of agenda, and whoever offered them to him always had a reason, but not Tom. He knew that Tom was just saying what he thought of him, without a hidden reason. Other than the fact that that’s how he saw Dan, he thought th
at this might be the first time when someone had given him a compliment about his appearance that he actually believed to be true. And the fact that it was Tom giving it to him made his pleasure and satisfaction twofold.
“Thanks, Texas, but I think you went too far with the superlatives.”
“Modesty doesn’t suit you, Dan. If you want to test this theory for real, I'm willing to take you whenever you say the word!” winked Tom.
“I'm not sure I'm ready for it, or that I'll ever be ready, but I'm willing to let myself enjoy the doubt that you might be right, Texas.”
“So where did you want to take me Thursday night?”
“Thursday night you’re mine!” Tom festively declared.
Something in the demanding tone Tom used felt right to him. He liked the feeling of someone managing him, taking the reins. He was tired and sad after the last few months of dealing with the breakup. The fact that he was always a lone wolf in the social sphere didn’t invite too many situations when someone would take his hand and pull him forward. Especially not out of a will to give him something instead of take something. It ignited something base and primal that was buried deep within his sub-consciousness.
“And what’s on the menu?”
“Let me take care of that,” declared Tom, “Just make sure you’re free Thursday evening.”
Their day together passed by quickly, Tom was busy wrapping a wooden vase with hand-made engravings that sold for over a hundred dollars.
He took the Jeep to go and pick up boxes, bubble-wrap, and masking-tape.
While he was in operational duty, the vase, ugly clock and a Czech artist’s painting with a name he didn’t recognize were sold. Apparently the buyers on eBay did recognize the artist’s name, because it went for 320 dollars. Dan smiled when he told him about the deal, but he refused to reveal how much the piece of art cost him when he and Lena bought it.