The General and the Horse-Lord (14 page)

“He won’t tell the police, will he?”

“You tell him the terms, Billy. But he should know what his professors are doing. You’re a student at his university. This happened on his watch. Give him a chance to do the right thing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about half the time,” Billy said. “You sound like one of those Cheyenne cowboys I grew up with. I never knew what they were talking about, either. Some secret man code.”

“Your daddy a cowboy?”

“Yeah. If he knew about this, he’d…. Oh, God, I can’t even imagine.”

Billy walked into the living room ahead of John, and Dean Fox came to his feet when he saw him. He looked up at John, his face sick, and John moved Billy to a chair, stood next to him. Dean Fox sat back down on the couch like his knees couldn’t hold him.

“I’m Billy Dial.”

“Hi, Billy. I’m Dean Fox. We’ve never met before.”

“I saw you, though, at new student orientation.”

“You’re a student here? What year?”

“I’m a freshman in studio arts.”

A freshman? John’s head came up at that, and he stared at the Dean until Fox lifted his eyes and met his.

“Billy? What happened? Somebody hit you.”

“It was Professor Walker. Brian Walker. He was… we were dating, you know.”

B
ILLY
lay down on Kim’s bed after the dean left, and John pulled up a straight chair, sat next to the bed reading a book until the boy fell asleep. A freshman. Eighteen? Seventeen? He wanted more than anything to pull out the phone directory and call Cheyenne, Wyoming, and bring a little cowboy justice down on Brian Walker’s ass.

He’d need to have that conversation very carefully with Billy and Kim. Kim called about four to report he couldn’t get anyone to cover his shift at Ho Ho’s, so he’d have to work. John told him he’d stay at home with Billy, and handed the phone over to Billy when he was done.

“We’ll talk when I get home, okay?” Kim sounded rushed and a little overwhelmed when he got the phone back, so John assumed Billy had told him about talking to Dean Fox. After Billy fell asleep, John propped the door to the garage open and sent Gabriel an email, telling him what had happened. Gabriel emailed back about an hour later, saying he’d be home by six, and Martha had given them a tentative okay to the tutoring.

John loved the way that sounded:
I’ll be home by six
. He had spent more of his adult life than he could have imagined, when he was eighteen and a freshman in college, listening to the echoes of his footsteps walking down the hall of an empty house, to sleep alone in an empty bed.

Chapter 10

H
E
HAD
chili ingredients, and everyone liked chili, so he cooked a pot for dinner. Billy helped him chop up green chilies and onions, and John noticed he’d painted his fingernails a very delicate pale pink to make himself feel better. “I used Kim’s nail polish. You don’t think he’ll mind?”

John shook his head. It was news to him that Kim had nail polish. What was he using it on, his toes? John had never seen any polish in evidence. It occurred to him, for the first time, that Kim had possibly made adjustments to his behavior in order to live in peace with his uncle. If so, he’d been very quiet about it, and this was something new for Kim. New and mature, John thought, feeling quite pleased.

Gabriel came home and put his briefcase on the kitchen table, wrapped an arm around John’s waist and nuzzled the back of his neck. “Chili smells good.”

Billy watched them out of the corner of his good eye. John remembered what Kim had told him, about wanting to have had a role model, to see someone be in a real relationship as a gay man. He reached a hand up to Gabriel’s cheek. “Hi, handsome. Welcome home.” He thought it probably sounded even more lame than it felt, but Gabriel looked surprised and pleased and Billy giggled a little behind his hand.

“I brought some potting soil for the cold frame,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t get seeds, though. It’s your project.”

“You can get the seeds. My initial burst of enthusiasm with woodwork was in response to not having a job. I was over it in about seven hours.”

Gabriel leaned over and smelled the chili. “How about herbs, then? Basil and rosemary and lemon thyme?”

“Okay with me.”

“Is the wonder boy coming home for supper?”

“He’s got the dinner shift at Ho Ho’s.”

“I’m going back to the dorm,” Billy announced, surprising them both. “I feel better. I mean, I can’t hide out here, and I know Kim didn’t get any sleep last night. I’ll drive by Ho Ho’s and tell him thanks, and that I’m okay.”

“What am I going to do with all this chili?” John wasn’t sure this was a good idea.

“You can freeze it into individual portions,” Billy said, looking very serious and helpful.

“Oh, okay. Thanks, Billy.”

Billy held out his hand, and John shook it, saw a glimmer of tears in his one good eye. Gabriel leaned back against the cabinet. “Billy, you sure you can drive with one good eye?”

“I came on my bike. And I live in those dorms down off Amherst, so I’m really close.”

John reached for the legal pad on the table, wrote down his cell and email. “I’m your emergency contact, okay?”

“John, give him my office number, too. Never know when you might need a lawyer to ride to the rescue.”

Billy nodded his thanks, stuffed the paper down into his jeans pocket. Then he reached out, gave John a hug around the waist, and was out the door.

John pulled open his phone and called Kim. “Yo! Uncle J, what’s up?”

“Yo to you too. I wanted to tell you Billy just left for home on his bike. He said he was okay, and he looked better.”

“Okay.” John could tell Kim was chewing on his thoughts. “He told me earlier he would go home tonight if he felt better. How did he look to you?”

“He put nail polish on.”

“That’s a good sign, in case you didn’t know.”

“I figured it out. Later, son.”

Gabriel pulled open the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers. He twisted off the tops and handed one to John, leaned back in his kitchen chair. “You’re a good guy,” he said. “You take care of everybody. Your squadrons and your tribes and your kids. I don’t see you taking care of yourself very often.”

John turned from the stove, surprised. “What do you mean? I have everything I need.”

“No, you don’t. You have one enormous crater in your life. A sinkhole. What you need, that you don’t have? Love. A relationship. Me. In your life. Permanently.”

John was speechless. What was he talking about? “You’ve been in my life for most of my adulthood, Gabriel.”

“On the down-low. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

John pulled out a chair, sat down next to him, and took a long pull on his beer. “Gabriel, okay. So what are you talking about? You’re still married, remember? I mean, it’s not like we can just….”

Gabriel put his beer down, a line of bad temper going down between his brows. “Oh, yes, we can. You’re saying I’m jumping the gun. Why can’t we talk about you and me?”

“So let’s talk. Have I given you any reason to think I’m not interested?”

Gabriel shook his head, staring down at the floor. “Sorry. I’m tired. Tired and frustrated and I want to know you’ve got my back. I don’t want to be out in the world alone, dangling at the long, lonely end of a piece of string. I’m not trying to put you on the spot.”

“You can put me on the spot. Why don’t you move in with me? Were you waiting for me to ask you? I didn’t want to complicate things. I mean, your life seems a bit complicated right now, doesn’t it? But if I could have anything in the world I wanted, it would be you, in my bed every night. At the table with me every morning. Living with me. Spending your life with me. I think if you do, it will upset Martha and may cost you in your divorce. I guess that’s what I was thinking, that the legal stuff is still pending. But I’ve already got your tools in my shed. I can’t think of anything I want on this earth more than knowing you’re going to wake up in my bed every morning. I want this. You, I mean. I want you. Is that enough for now?”

John thought he looked tired and a little scared. “Yeah, it is. More than enough. And I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to push you into anything. Or maybe I was. John, did you see those boys at the bar the other night? They weren’t just out and proud, they were out and proud in flashing neon, you know? I’ll never be that far out of the closet. I’ll never be anyone but myself. But it seems to me I’ve been missing something critical. I see that in you too. Missing the right to love. The right to make a life together. We shouldn’t have had to give that up. And I feel the loss, like there’s a hole in my chest, a wound. Sometimes it feels like my heart looks like that poor boy’s face looks—beat all to hell. It pisses me off that we’ve lost all this time. And I don’t want to wait any longer.”

John studied his face, a mixture of bad temper and yearning. “Okay. But I made chili for supper. Can we eat first?”

Gabriel started grinning, the tension flowing out of his shoulders, and he laughed and got up and opened the cabinet doors, pulled out a couple of soup bowls. “I love chili. Did you put beer in it?”

“You know it, brother.”

“I’m forty-eight, John. I mean, shit, my dick could give out any time.”

“I’m fifty-two. Mine will probably give out first. Not that I’ve seen any evidence of that so far.”

“It’s just a matter of blood flow. Right?”

John shrugged, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Yeah? So?”

“I have a plan. To get the blood moving.”

“Super Freak” - Rick James

“Addicted to Love” - Robert Palmer

“La Bamba” - Los Lobos

“Shakedown” - Bob Seger

“Walk Like an Egyptian” - The Bangles

“‘S
UPER
F
REAK
’?
Gabriel…”

“It’s my eighties get-the-blood-moving playlist. What’s even better, I’ve got the music videos so we can have visual cues in case we’ve forgotten how to dance like an Egyptian.” He moved into a pose, a perfect hieroglyph. “Just try it one time.” He was laughing under his breath, and he took
Battleship
out of the DVD player. “You’re gonna love it.”

John stared at him. What a week. What a crazy fucking week. Maybe they needed some “Super Freak.” He kicked off his shoes, pulled off the socks so he could dance barefoot. “Okay, hang on while I put these in the laundry.”

When he got back to the living room, Gabriel had loosened his tie, another long and thin black one. Didn’t Robert Palmer, in the video…? He was still wearing his work clothes, but John didn’t say anything. Clearly this was part of Gabriel’s dance routine.

“You do this every day after work?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I can’t every day. Sometimes I go out into the garage for some private dance time. Anything to keep from going mad.”

John couldn’t help but laugh at Rick James in his wig, covered in glitter, and Gabriel swinging his ass to the music. It was impossible not to dance to “Super Freak,” and he was singing and swinging before they were a minute into the song. He couldn’t believe it, he remembered all the words! Had he heard the song that many times on the radio in 1981? Screw it, he could sing if he wanted in his own house! He grabbed a wooden spoon off the countertop to use as a microphone. Gabriel was executing some nifty spins, and John leaned over backward with his spoon until he looked like he was playing limbo. They both sang into the microphone for the last
she’s super freeeeekaay.

Gabriel grabbed him for a little dirty dancing when Robert Palmer started, and John could feel that the blood was moving without any trouble, their hips flowing together to those great rhythms, and then Gabriel spun away, moved his hand up to that skinny black tie.
Might as well face it, you’re addicted to love
. John used his wooden spoon to good effect, enjoyed the show when Gabriel managed to dance his way out of his tie and dress shirt.

Gabriel took his hand when “La Bamba” came on. Lou Diamond Phillips looked so young on the screen, just a baby, really. John let Gabriel lead them through a little flaming salsa. They both lost their tee shirts, then their pants, which was a good thing because when Bob Seger took the stage, they needed to be dancing skin to skin to boxer shorts. John remembered dancing to this song once before, an entire squadron a long way from home on Christmas Eve, and Bob Seger had gotten them all over their blues. Everyone had danced together, from the youngest soldier to the general, while a dust storm raged outside the hanger. Their DJ for the night had taken the microphone, said, “Let’s shake it down for all those pretty babies waiting for us at home, in Minneapolis and Pensacola and Memphis and my home town, Flagstaff, Arizona!” John had danced to “Shakedown” with a young soldier who worked in the chow hall. He still remembered the shock in that kid’s brown eyes, and the silly grin on his face when he’d found himself dancing with the general.

Gabriel reached to the coffee table when the song ended, retrieved the wooden-spoon microphone and handed it over. “You’re gonna need that. Now watch an expert walk like an Egyptian, my friend,” he said when the Bangles took the stage. John could tell Gabriel had danced to this song many, many times since 1987. He
was
an expert!