Crash: Northwoods, Book 2

by Grant C. Holland

  “Should I condemn Gabe because of his friends? Is that how I should judge you? Remember the guy who’s in prison now for telling lies to investigators? You once called him a friend. Be careful how far you go down this road. Your line of work is full of shady characters.”

  “Hal, you’re such an innocent babe sometimes.” Trent shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the carpet with his heel. “When you get to Washington, the people who surround you will mean everything. You have to pick and choose correctly. If you’re hanging out with the enemy, you’ll have to pay the price. No one will let you get away with that.”

  “But Gabe doesn’t even like politics. I don’t talk about it with him.”

  “What do you talk about?”

  Hal quickly grew even more uncomfortable with the conversation. He knew that Trent was only doing his best for the campaign, but Hal longed for someone who cared about him as a person. Gabe was that guy. He also gave Hal hope for creating a future beyond campaigns and beyond Congress free from political stress.

  Trent asked about skeletons in the closet when he signed on to Hal’s campaign. Secret gay trysts were one of the examples he mentioned. Hal denied every item.

  “I don’t know whether I’ve ever met someone so squeaky clean. Or is it sheltered?”

  “I think the latter is the most likely.”

  Gabe was the only one who knew that Hal had sexual and romantic interests in men. Hal understood that it had to stay that way for at least the rest of the campaign. That meant that he had to be careful not to blurt out something he’d regret during a heated conversation with Trent.

  Trent wouldn’t let the question about conversation topics lie. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

  “I don’t know.” Hal took an indirect approach. “We talk about the woods. I think I need to know more about the lakes and the forests if I’m going to serve the people who live here in Congress. We talk about growing up and what life was like when we were both kids.”

  “Look, Hal, it’s only 3 1/2 months. If you need to talk about your childhood, we can find you a good shrink. I think the best plan of action is to avoid Gabe for now. Put the friendship on the back burner. Tell him you’re too busy with the campaign. Real friends always understand.”

  “But I can’t.”

  Trent stopped pacing. “Why can’t you? Unless there’s more that you’re not telling me. What’s going on? What happened out there on the lake, Hal?”

  Although he stood in the middle of the room, Hal felt backed into a corner. He didn’t know why, but Trent was starting to suspect the nature of Hal’s relationship with Gabe. Hal saw it in Trent’s eyes.

  “I…can’t tell you.”

  “I know he’s no fucking criminal. He’s far too innocent for that. What’s going on? Do I have to play twenty questions with you?”

  Hal whispered, “I like him.” He wanted to take it back as soon as the words rolled out of his mouth.

  Trent’s eyes opened wide. He started to pace again, but instead of back and forth, he walked in a circle. When he stopped, he rubbed his chin like he was deep in thought.

  “Could you say that again?”

  Hal lowered his head in defeat. “Don’t make me repeat it. It was hard…”

  “What the fucking hell?” Trent raised his voice and shouted in an accusatory tone. “You like him. I’m assuming that doesn’t mean in a friendly way. I like Joe. He’s a great buddy, and we play games together on the PS4. I don’t think that’s what you’re talking about.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Trent pointed at Hal again. “You can’t do this during a campaign, and, most of all, you can’t do this to me. I don’t give a shit who you like. You can kick it with cheap whores or the hottest rock star or even a harem of both chicks and guys for all I care. Just don’t do it while you’re running for office. Understood?”

  “But how do you control this?” Hal patted the left side of his chest.

  Trent’s voice rose thirty decibels. “You put it on the back burner as I said. Or you tie it out back to a tree and leave it with plenty of food and a full water dish. You can get back to it later. Do you have any fucking idea what the press would do with this?”

  “I wasn’t planning on telling them. As I said, nobody was there at the lake, and I can be discreet with Gabe.”

  “That’s the famous last words printed on hundreds of political tombstones. I’m telling you now. Put it on ice. If he likes you, too, he can wait.”

  Hal stared deep into Trent’s eyes. He knew there had to be a heart somewhere inside. Trent wasn’t a robot.

  “Surely, you can feel emotions. Haven’t you ever fallen in love before?”

  It was a strange question that almost burned Hal’s lips when he asked it. He’d never consciously entertained the idea that he was falling in love with Gabe until that moment. One blow job was their only overtly sexual contact, but he knew his feelings were much more intense than that. Hal knew that saying such a thing was a cliche, but he was confident that he’d never felt the same way before.

  Trent reached down and rubbed his hands on his pants, and then he held them behind his back. He looked uncomfortable.

  “Hal, I don’t want to say this, but you’re important to me. There, I said it. As a campaign operative, I never want to get emotionally involved, but…”

  It wasn’t the words that Hal expected to hear out of Trent’s mouth. Almost all of the time, he was all numbers and arrangements and avoiding bad appearances. The last thing Hal expected was to hear that he genuinely cared.

  “I do care about you, but you can’t mistake gratitude for love,” said Trent.

  Hal’s jaw dropped. Was that what Trent thought it was? Was he implying that Hal’s feelings for Gabe were all about being grateful for the rescue after the plane crash?

  At a loss for any other words, Hal said, “I can’t believe that’s what you think. The crash was months ago. It’s not about that.”

  “Are you sure? For the rest of your life, you’ve been into women. I know about your relationships. We had them all checked out in the vetting process. Now, after a guy arguably saves your life, you’ve decided that you’re gay. I’ve heard of near-death experiences causing people to change what they do. Maybe that is what’s going on. Think about it. For me. For both of us.”

  Hal turned toward the window and stared out at the view of the street in shock. He knew that his feelings for Gabe were real. Weren’t they? He thought guys were attractive when he was a teenager. He longed to find out what it might be like to hold them in his arms. That all happened. Didn’t it?

  Trent continued with his comments and advice. “I want you to call Gabe. You can wait until tomorrow if you wish, but I want you to have a conversation with him. Tell him that the campaign has to be your focus. Boot all of this interpersonal garbage out the door until after the election. Then you can give it all careful consideration. Celebrate Christmas together in a snowy cabin on a mountainside for all I care. Just avoid him for now.”

  Hal only processed about half of Trent’s words. He thought about Gabe instead. He saw his face in his mind. Hal could taste the kisses and the yearning sensation when Gabe expertly brought him to the edge. Then there was the kind face staring down at him in the woods when he feared that he might die.

  Gabe was there at that crucial moment with a warm, hopeful expression. He’d probably saved Hal’s life. Could gratitude for that rare act of kindness be driving the thought that he was falling in love?

  18

  Gabe

  Gabe tried hard to focus on the task at hand. He was headed out of Arrowhead Falls in his pickup truck in response to a call for help. It sounded like a relatively routine situation. A teenager fell out of a tree at his family’s campsite, and his parents believed that he broke a leg. They didn’t want to move him for fear of making the situation worse. The teenager had wise parents.

  Unfortunately, on the drive to the campsite, Gabe couldn’t get Hal out of hi
s head, and it wasn’t due to something positive. He’d received a text message the day before asking for a “pause” in their relationship. Gabe didn’t know for sure what that meant. He feared it was goodbye. With his fingers shaking, Gabe punched Hal’s number into his cellphone, but there was no answer to his call.

  Gabe switched the radio off in the truck. “Damned disc jockeys! You can’t even play the right music. You’ve got one job. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gabe steamed and sighed. The radio disc jockey was a useful vague target for abuse. Hal knew that he needed to get the dark mood out of his head before he met someone in distress.

  Deep breaths. Gabe couldn’t believe that he was freaking out over Hal. It wasn’t his usual behavior, and, after Brandon, he vowed to handle all relationships in a new way. He wouldn’t let them consume his emotions.

  Gabe always maintained a laser focus on his job. He could successfully compartmentalize it and keep it away from the rest of his life. He was a focused first responder and exceptionally proud of his work.

  “Okay, settle down. This is work time. You can worry about all the rest when you finish this run. Right now, a guy needs your help. Get a grip.”

  Talking to himself helped Gabe settle his thoughts just in time. He turned off the highway to enter the campground. He found site 3-B and pulled up alongside an RV with a canopy rolled out from the side. He noted the brightly colored paper lanterns hung around the edge and frowned. Another family’s cheerful outing didn’t turn out the way they planned it.

  Gabe noted that everyone handled the situation the right way, and he thanked them for their insight. A thin rail of a boy about age 15 was still lying on the ground the way he landed. His contorted, tense face told the story that he was in pain. His mother knelt by his side and dabbed at his forehead with a damp cloth.

  Only five minutes after Gabe arrived, an ambulance followed in his wake. He already had the boy, named Eddie, checked out, and his condition was stable. Eddie was ready for his ride in the ambulance.

  The call successfully distracted Gabe for 30 minutes at most. Then Hal was back tormenting his thoughts. Gabe saw Hal’s face as he bobbed while treading water in Lone Cedar Lake. He grinned when Gabe reached out under the surface to pull their bodies closer together.

  Alone on a back road in his truck once again, Gabe howled. “Put it on pause. What the hell is that? Does Hal’s heart come with a remote control device? Mine doesn’t. I wonder whether he can fast forward and rewind, too.”

  Back at his apartment building, Gabe parked the truck, slammed the door, and climbed the steps to the upper floor of his apartment complex. After walking through the front door at home, he slammed it behind him.

  He was still on the clock for another four hours, but if it were a normal day, he wouldn’t have any more calls. Gabe sprawled out on his sofa and scanned the room, looking for the TV remote.

  It wasn’t there. “What the hell? Everything in its place. That’s the rule.”

  Gabe heard rustling in the kitchen and suddenly pulled his knees up close to his chest. “Who’s in there?” He feared a raccoon found a way to break in through one of the screened windows.

  “Are you looking for this?” Elle emerged from the kitchen with the remote control in her hand.

  “What the? Why are you here?” Gabe didn’t understand the reason for her visit, but he wasn’t alarmed that she’d made an appearance. Gabe entrusted the key to his home to two people—Elle and Brandon. Elle used it in the past to surprise Gabe on his birthday, sneak Christmas presents under his small, apartment-sized tree, and leave flowers merely to celebrate knowing each other.

  “I sent three text messages in the last hour, and you didn’t answer any of them. That’s not like you at all. I thought I’d stop in to see if you were okay. You weren’t here, and I decided to wait. When I heard your truck, I switched the TV off. It allowed me to see that adorable shocked expression on your face when you saw me.”

  “I’m glad one person thinks I’m good looking. The rest of the world probably thinks I’m a clown.” Gabe frowned. “A sad, dejected, and rejected little clown.”

  Elle seated herself in the middle of the sofa, placed the remote control on the coffee table, and reached out for a hug.

  “What’s going on? It has to be Hal. I think you’re finally immune to Brandon’s shenanigans.”

  While he hugged his friend tightly, Gabe fought back the impulse to cry. There had to be a reasonable explanation for Hal’s pause. After all, he didn’t say “end.” He said “pause.”

  “I think I’m probably making too much of it,” said Gabe. “I got a text message from Hal, and he wants to push pause.”

  “Pause? Does his life have a freeze-frame option? That sounds absurd.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. The two of us together was starting to feel like a snowball rolling down the hill. I mean that in a good way. How do you stop momentum like that with the press of a button?”

  Elle addressed the more significant issue and not the specific question. “And you’re worried that it’s all over,”

  “Wouldn’t you be, too?”

  “I’m not so sure. After all, he’s running a political campaign. Hal’s a little busy right now. Wouldn’t you agree? Maybe ‘pause’ is an unfortunate way to say, ‘I’m overwhelmed.’”

  Gabe reached up and brushed his hair off his forehead. “I suppose so, but I thought I was helpful to the campaign. I was giving Hal a chance to relax. We went back to Lone Cedar Lake.”

  “When did that happen?” Elle slapped Gabe’s knee. “You didn’t tell me. We don’t keep secrets. Remember?”

  “I wasn’t going to keep it quiet forever.”

  “And you broke a more important rule. You don’t ever go out on a trip like that without telling someone where you’ve gone.” Elle bit her lip. “Oh, maybe Hal’s people knew about it, but you didn’t tell yours.” She started to pout.

  “Levi was the only person who knew. He vowed silence. I understand the importance of safety.”

  “And he’s an iron trap when it comes to keeping secrets. I have to give you credit. You played that well.”

  “It sounds like it might not have mattered. Now, I see it as the last time I had a lot of fun with Hal. Yesterday, I was willing to entertain the idea that it was the latest step in a relationship unfolding like a rose in bloom.”

  “So poetic.” Elle squeezed Gabe’s knee. “I think there has to be a reasonable explanation. Maybe he’s worried that everything will get out to reporters somehow. That would be a circus, and nobody comes out of something like that without scars.”

  Gabe closed his eyes for a moment and tried to think it all through. Opening them again, he stared directly at Elle. Gabe asked, “So, you think I need to take a deep breath?”

  “I think that would help.”

  “I know two other things that might make me feel a little better.”

  Elle started to smile. “What’s that?”

  “A huge plate of nachos and a night of TV bingeing. Can I borrow you from Nate for the evening?”

  “I think I can arrange that. I’ll promise Nate something extra special in exchange.”

  19

  Hal

  It was always unusual to see Harold Brentwood, Sr. away from a wood-paneled room and the smell of cigar smoke. That was his element. He liked to sit in a leather-upholstered carved wood chair surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and accompanied by a decanter of the most exquisite port wine resting on a nearby table.

  Hal didn’t see his father often when he was growing up, and most of their time spent together was in the library of the family’s sprawling house in the Hamptons. It was shocking to see him standing in the living room of an ordinary apartment in Ely, Minnesota.

  “Why did you fly all the way out here? It’s not election night yet. I thought I might get to see you when we celebrate the primary win or the general election in November.”

  Hal, Sr. rubbed his silvery beard,
but he remained quiet. He was prematurely gray, and he opted to let the natural color take its course. It lent a distinguished air to his angular face. The perfectly tailored suits he wore completed his desired middle-aged statesman effect.

  “Do you want to sit?” asked Hal. “I know this apartment isn’t much, but that chair over by the coffee table is an Eames Lounger replica. It’s very comfortable. Would you like a glass of wine? I don’t have any port, but I do have red.”

  “I’ll take the seat and no, for now, on the wine. Why don’t you sit on the sofa so we can talk?”

  All the tiny hairs on Hal’s forearms stood on end. The last time he spoke with his father was two weeks after the plane crash. They talked on the phone for a few minutes, and Hal, Sr. lamented losing his favorite pilot. He didn’t have much to say about his son’s injuries.

  After Hal sat on one end of the couch, his father asked, “Are you enjoying the campaign? I always wanted to run for office, but I could never leave the business world. If I didn’t keep my head down and my thumb pressed flat on our satellite operations, it could have all fallen apart.”

  “You are an impressive success as a businessman. I do admire that, Sir.” Hal was deferential to his father except in his refusal to attach “Jr.” to his name. The resistance earned an occasional sneering comment, but Hal treasured his choice as one rare ongoing act of rebellion.

  “And the campaign?” Hal, Sr. leaned forward in the lounger and drummed his fingers on the arm. “You haven’t said anything. I heard that you’re up about ten points in the polls for the November general. That sounds comfortable, but I doubt that it’s any indication that you should slow the pace. Listen to the advice of the sailors. It’s always good to follow the favorable winds and see whether or not you can position the sails to catch even more momentum.”

  “It’s exhausting, but I think I’m doing well.”

  Hal, Sr. leaned back. “You were correct. This chair feels almost like the real thing.”