Cleats in Clay (3 page)

hafta
be great artists. If people are permanently applying something to their skin, they don’t wanna get stuck with some half-assed scribble.”
Odis laughed. “Point made. Never thought of it that way.” He waited until they finished their food and then walked over to Bobby. He leaned down for a closer look at the hummingbird. The inking was quite impressive; the rich blue and highlighting green-and-yellow colors shimmered with the iridescence of the real thing. “It’s extremely unique, I hope you realize. How much did you shell out for it?”
“A hundred bucks, all together.”
“No, you’re shittin’ me….”
“I’m not. Nate and I both got one right after that first Independence Day. Back then, twenty years ago, getting married wasn’t even a dream yet, so we thought up the idea of matching tattoos. For fifty bucks each, we both got one over our hearts.”
Odis pushed in on the skin with his finger, watching the iridescent shimmer. “I’ve never even heard of tattoo ink like that.”
“It wasn’t ’til years later we even realized how special it was. She was a huge biker dyke who lived right off campus. When we told her the reason for the tattoos, she got all mushy and just did an outline, told us to come back. She spent two weeks altogether on the tats. I have no idea where she found that special ink.”
“So you’re thirty-eight?”
“I’ll be forty April 1.”
Odis snickered. “Then you’ll be an old man like me,” he teased. He lightly put his palm on Bobby’s chest and rubbed his fingertips along the tiny words inscribed along the bottom of the tattoo. “Why hummingbirds?”
“When we got to her place, we hadn’t really decided on anything. Nathan had suggested a pink rose, but that seemed kind of girly to me, just a huge invitation for locker-room teasing. So she showed us her scrapbook, and one of the pictures was of a work she did with some roses and a hummingbird.”
“And it caught your eye.”
“Yeah, it seemed so playful and flirty and kind of romantic.”
“And the hummingbird didn’t seem girly?”
“Well,” Bobby said with a shrug. “It’s mostly blue. That’s a boy’s color.”
“What’s the ‘nip and ripple’ mean?”
“That’s our initials pronounced out—
N
,
I
,
P
and
R
,
P
,
L
.”
“Oh, so you’re Robert, then.”
“Robert Petri Lane, and before you even ask, yes, my mom was a huge Dick Van Dyke fan.”
Odis sat back on his heels. “Wait, Robert Petri?” He got up and went into the bedroom area and started rifling through some kind of filing cabinet. “I remember that name, kinda sticks out.”
“What are you looking for?”
Odis searched in another drawer and then yanked out a folded printout. “Here it is.” He brought the paper back to the table. It was the original order sheet Nathan had filled out online. Odis put his hand over the bottom section of the page to hide it as he showed the printout to Bobby. “That’s why Bobby Lane didn’t register with me. He’d made it out as a gift for Robert Petri.”
“I kinda use that name as an alias sometimes.”
Before Bobby could look at the page too closely, Odis whisked the printout away and put it back in the filing cabinet.
Odis returned and hesitated briefly before he leaned down and kissed Bobby. He sank down to his knees as Bobby opened his mouth. This quick kiss tingled with more heat than the previous effort.
Odis lowered his mouth to the hummingbird and licked at the colored ink on Bobby’s skin. He turned his head, his nose pointing towards Bobby’s armpit. Bobby put his hand on the back of Odis’s head and gently pushed him toward the hairy space under his arm.
He didn’t hesitate this time. Odis buried his nose and mouth in the space, reveling in the masculine smell and taste of Bobby.
Bobby moaned in reply as his groin twitched.
Odis rose back up and kissed the end of Bobby’s nose before gazing briefly into his eyes. “Okay, stud. I’ve got my inspiration. Time to go.”
“Go?” Bobby frowned. “You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes.” Odis nodded. “You’re a huge distraction. Can’t get any work done if you’re here. Get over to the B and B. Gertie can get you some real food and a bed while I work.”
“Work?” He groaned. “What a shit. Get my engine all revved, then throw me out.”
“I’m sorry. Only for a bit. Let me get this outta my head, and I’ll call ya back.”
Bobby fished up his shirt from the floor.
“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m sorry. I just… I just need to focus on work.”
“Fine,” Bobby conceded as he pulled on his jean jacket. “You better call me.”
Odis smiled. “Oh,
that
I can promise. I’m not done with you yet.”
“Better not be.” Bobby tried to look mean but didn’t feel as if he quite pulled it off, and his disappointment showed through. “I guess I’ll go….”
“Green button opens the gate, red one closes it.” Odis watched as Bobby went through the door, then climbed the steps. Damn if he didn’t have a gorgeous man’s butt.
Odis went to his kitchen. He opened the cabinet door and looked at the prescription bottles. He hadn’t taken any of the arthritis pills for the day yet, but he closed the cabinet without getting any. The stupid pills made him so fuzzy and clouded that working was difficult. Instead, Odis opened one of the drawers and loaded his pipe from his pot stash. Toking didn’t make the pain go away, but it helped him not care about it so much.
Bringing the pipe, Odis walked over to the studio. He took a deep toke while looking at the equestrian piece. After Bobby’s defense of the horse, Odis opened the kiln and put the raw clay sculpture inside for firing.
Once the piece was situated and the kiln turned on, Odis gathered up his carving tools and brought out some bricks of wet clay, then threw it all onto the worktable. His fingers hurt and complained, but he took another toke and ignored them. Odis then set to work on the clay, starting the slow task of teasing and shaping the sticky material to copy the image in his head.

B
OBBY
made it back to Hasting’s Bed and Breakfast just before dark. He parked and entered the vestibule area of the Victorian-style home and pushed the buzzer.

John ushered him into the hallway. “I couldn’t believe it when Gertie told me you’d been by here earlier. What brings ya out to our neck of the woods?”

“Just dropped by to see Odis about a sculpture.”
“Did you find what yer looking for?”
“Don’t know yet,” Bobby answered honestly.

John pulled him conspiratorially close. “Just so ya know, I thought that was a real crappy deal ya got. I hope yer suing the pants off the bastards. Don’t care what side your bread is buttered on, nobody deserves to get treated like that. Enough to turn a man from watching baseball altogether.”

“Don’t matter. The way they got the media all stoked, they deserve to have it turn around and bite ’em in the ass.”
“There’s some legal action in the works. Shouldn’t really discuss it, though.”

Gertie stepped in from the dining room. “Howdy again, Mr. Lane. I see ya made it back in one piece. Just settin’ the table for some dinner. Come on in. Don’t suppose my brother fed ya.”

“Thank you,” Bobby said as John led him into the dining room. “And we had some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“Honestly, he eats like he’s still in junior high. Miracle the man survives out there,” Gertie thought aloud as they all sat down to the table with a dish of pot roast and vegetables. “Not a vegetarian, I hope? Guess I shoulda asked earlier.”
“No, ma’am. Man’s gotta have meat, as far as I’m concerned.”

Gertie chuckled. “Just call me Gertie. Dig in, boys.”
They each filled their plates with food and sampled a few bites before Gertie looked over at Bobby. “So, other than the wacky weed, what were you boys up to out there?”
At her frankness, Bobby nearly choked on his roasted potato. “Not much, just had some sandwiches and talked. Then he said he was inspired and kicked me out.”
John smirked. “Damn lucky dawg. I bet he shared his good shit too.”
Gertie nearly dropped her fork as she studied Bobby more closely. “He said ‘inspired’?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.”
“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Gertie appraised Bobby as she took another bite. “A fine looker like you’s prob’ly turned more than one straight man’s head. At least he’s working again. I don’t think he’s stepped foot in that studio in over a year.”
“How bad
is
the arthritis?”
“Prob’ly worse than he complains about, I’m sure. But it’s not just that. He kinda lost his fire when Tina left. Hasn’t done a real show in over four years.”
John toasted the air with his glass. “Good riddance too. Never liked that bitch.”
“Now, now,” Gertie scolded her husband. “Be nice.”
John looked over at Bobby when he finally clued in to the previous conversation. “You mean, you and Odis?”
“Just talked, mostly. Not a big deal.”
“Oh,” John disagreed, “it
is
a big deal. Odis is buttoned up tighter than a nun. With Marsha, he wouldn’t even hold hands in public after they’d been married five years.”
Bobby just ate, trying not to dwell on it, but he remembered how Odis had held his hand as he took him back to the studio.
“Hm, never thought I’d have a
brother
-in-law.”
Gertie swatted John’s hand. “Don’t be so presumptuous.” Then she turned to Bobby. “But John’s right. My brother doesn’t jump into relationships lightly.”
Bobby was starting to feel a bit on the spot and decided to change the subject. “So, what was that you were saying about his ‘good shit’?”
John nodded. “When he started smoking regularly about ten years ago, he never trusted buying it off the street, so he started growing his own. Just a couple of plants, for personal use. Won’t ever sell any, no matter how much people beg.”
“Other people know about it?”
Gertie nodded. “Small town, ya know. Everybody knows everything. Wouldn’t be surprised if people start dropping in here just to see a celebrity. But I haven’t told anybody other than John.”
“I kept it quiet too. Figured the last thing you need is more gawkers.”
“I appreciate that.”
Gertie put down her silverware. “We’ll see if the quiet lasts. How long ya in town for?”
“Hadn’t planned to stay at all—was just going to pop in and out. But Odis said give him a couple of days, so I’ll hang around a few, I guess.”
“Well, we don’t have people standing in line for rooms, so I’ll set you up with one, like I promised.”
“I’m not a freeloader. I’ll pay the normal rates.”
“But—”
“No buts. Like you said, there’s not exactly a line, so I’m paying my share.”
“All right, then.” Gertie didn’t argue more. “There’s a clothing store down the road to the south, mostly western stuff, but if you didn’t bring any luggage, ya may want to pop over. They’re open ’til eight.”
“Appreciate it.” Bobby stood and grinned at Gertie. “And thank you for the excellent meal.”
“No trouble.”
John loaded up another helping. “See ya later.”
Bobby made his way back to the car and headed for the clothing store. He turned up the radio but couldn’t stop thinking about Odis. The man Bobby had spent the day with and the man Gertie and John had described at dinner just seemed like two totally different people. Maybe Gertie just didn’t know her brother as well as she thought she did.
Yet there had been that hesitancy. Bobby had assumed it was from being with another man, but maybe it was actually from Odis just being intimate, period. It left Bobby with much to ponder.
He found the tiny clothing store, and as Gertie described, it was mostly western wear. Bobby got another pair of jeans, some socks and underwear, and picked out three of the plainer-looking shirts.
With the radio loud, Bobby drove back to the B and B.
He walked upstairs to the small but cozy room Gertie had assigned him. He put the purchases away in the dresser before taking out his phone. He should call Sharon before it got too late.
“Hey,” Sharon answered. “You on your way back?”
“Not yet, got a room for the night. Things turned out a bit more….” Bobby paused, unsure how much to tell his friend. Should he bring up what happened with Odis? “A bit more complicated than I expected.”
“Oh?”
“The work wasn’t done yet, so I’m waiting for the artist to finish.”
“What’s going on, Bob? I know you’re not telling me everything. You didn’t want to make the trip in the first place. I practically had to shove you onto the plane. Now you’re staying the night?”
“I don’t know, Shar. It’s complicated. Can we just leave it at that for now?”
Sharon sighed into the phone. “Just watch your back. Don’t let any of those Texan gunslingers sneak up on you,” she said with a laugh.
Bobby laughed along. “You watch too many of those cheesy westerns. I’m gonna get some sleep and call ya later.”
“All right, then, and I expect details next time. G’night.”
“Good night.”
A
FTER
hanging up, Bobby lay on the bed in his room, flipping absently through channels on the TV. This seemed like so many other wasted nights in his life. He couldn’t count how many evenings he’d spent in hotel rooms, waiting for the next day’s game.
But this night was so different from those. Instead of feeling the pregame excitement and chatting on the phone with Nate, he was feeling a bit of guilt and stewing over Odis. Mentally, he knew the cheating guilt was ridiculous, yet he couldn’t seem to completely shake it off. Even though Nate was gone, Bobby had been unswervingly faithful to the man for over twenty years, and convincing his heart not to feel any adulterous blame was a challenge.
Odis. He sighed again at the thought of the little man.
Odis took him by surprise. So soon after Nathan’s death, Bobby certainly hadn’t planned on flying to Texas and making out with some guy, but he had. Getting that postcard and those peculiar instructions had set off this strange chain of events, a chain to the receipt in Nate’s desk that pointed him here. In some improbable way, it was almost as though Nate had planned for his little tryst with Odis to happen.
Bobby flipped through more channels. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that exploratory session he had shared with Odis. In the moment, that sharing had felt so natural, so desirous, but now he questioned why he’d allowed it to happen. Was it just the weed and the loneliness spurring him forward?
No, it was Odis. Like some leprechaun, Odis enthralled him with a hidden power to have his way.
Bobby had to chuckle at his own thought. No, from what Gertie and John described at dinner, he
knew
Odis wasn’t some kind of player. Those explorative urges must have been just as unexpected for him as well, especially considering he was exploring the uncharted territories of another man.
Now that Odis was inspired—which had seemed like such a surprise to Gertie—did that mean Odis was done with him? Bobby hoped not. Those explorations had such an unusual mix of tenderness and heat, they left Bobby hungry to explore more of Odis’s attention. Odis had also said he wanted more, but would he still feel that way in the sober light of a new day?
Allowing a noisy yawn, Bobby turned off the TV and settled under the covers. Hopefully, Odis wouldn’t keep him waiting here long. Though he’d seen the work of the struggling and hurting horse, he was curious about what kind of sculpture the man would come up with. But maybe Bobby should be concerned. What if this new sculpted work also came from such a dark place?
Bobby pushed that thought aside as he fell into sleep.