Two Sides of the Same Coin (15 page)

“You ain’t bashful at all are ya?” Mike asked.

“Jeff and bashful don’t usually go together in a sentence unless there’s an ‘ain’t’ between ’em.”

“How’d you get to be so open and not ashamed?”

“This is my home, Mike, ain’t nobody here but us, and you’re a guy. I ain’t got nothin’ you ain’t already seen. I guess I never thought of it as bein’ out of normal. If there were ladies here, I’d wear a swimsuit, but I never thought of it with other guys. It’s the same with walkin’ around in my underwear. I know you guys always tease me, but why not be comfortable in my own house? I guess the way I was raised, I never thought much about it.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You know my mom died when I was six don’t ya?”

“I knew you was young, but not that young.”

“Growin’ up there were no ladies around. I stopped wearin’ pajamas and started sleepin’ in my underwear when I was six. Even by that time I noticed all the hands and my dad slept like that, and I wanted to be one of the guys. Also, workin’ on the ranch, lots of times I’d come in covered in mud, in horse shit, or whatever. I sure as hell didn’t want to get in trouble for traipsin’ it through the house, so I’d take off my clothes in the mudroom. I spent a lot of time growin’ up cowboyin’ here and on some other ranches. You probably noticed guys in the bunkhouse ain’t too modest. And it’s the same in huntin’ and fishin’ camps. Until you asked me about it, I never really thought about it much.”

“I envy you that, Jeff. In my house any show of skin, a tank top or shorts that came above your knees, was satanic temptation. I had to wear pajamas to sleep in until the day I got kicked outta the house. Even before I told my old man about me bein’ gay, I wasn’t allowed to play sports at school because of the unholy goin’ ons in locker rooms. Any type of clothes that was in fashion was prideful and sinful. When I was livin’ at home, I don’t think I’d ever been naked anywhere outside the bathroom. Not even in my bedroom.”

“That’s fucked up. Is that why you’re so shy?”

“That’s a big part of it. I guess I’m just too self-conscious and ashamed of myself to feel comfortable walkin’ around like you do. I also always been afraid that if I was bare assed around a bunch of handsome guys, I’d get a boner.”

“You’re all growed up now. If you show wood to me, I ain’t gonna tease ya. In fact, it’s a nice compliment to me. That aside though, you got a beautiful body; don’t be ashamed of it. I can’t understand all these preachers who say we’re made in God’s image, and then tell us to be ashamed of our bodies or our thoughts.”

“You’re right, but sixteen years of habits bein’ beat into ya, literally, isn’t so easy to get rid of.”

“I understand. Does it bother you if I’m bare assed or in my underwear?” I asked.

“No… yes… I mean… I know I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but I do. First of all, I’m afraid I’ll get hard, and you’ll get offended.” I laughed at that one, and Mike gave me kind of a sheepish grin.

“Remember a couple of hours ago when I tackled you and kissed you? I was pressin’ right up against you, and we were both hard. I didn’t get all offended or upset.”

“Yeah, I guess ya didn’t.” I got another sheepish grin, and he continued. “Sometimes, too, I’m pretty sure you do things just to throw me off, like the night we spent outside ridin’ fences. You were walkin’ around care free, and I was worryin’ abut how to keep you from seein’ I was watchin’ and enjoyin’ the show. Or this morning when you were leaning there all spread out. I don’t know how to react to that. I know you’re teasin’ me, and I know ya don’t mean any harm. But what do I do?”

“Actually, buddy, it’s called flirtin’. I do it because I like you. I’m attracted to you. Hell, sometimes I do it just to get a laugh outta you. I know I must look ridiculous.”

“Yeah, especially when you’re turnin’ blue with cold.” We both laughed.

“See, now that’s a good reaction. I don’t care if you get hard and we’re workin out together, punchin’ cattle together, or doin’ whatever together. It’s a natural reaction. Hell, with me sometimes it just seems to happen with no reason, like gettin’ up in the mornin’. Did it bother you me not takin’ time to get dressed before I came down here?”

“Only in the sense you’re so self-assured, and I’m not.”

“Don’t worry about it. You have every reason to be just as self-assured as I am. Are you uncomfortable now?”

“No, Jeff, for some strange reason I ain’t.”

“Good. So are ya havin’ a good day so far?”

“Yeah, we done things today I’ve always wanted to do regular like with a friend, but never did.”

“Well, you got a friend here, and we’ll do that stuff all the time.” I pushed my foot forward until I connected with his. He didn’t pull away. “Hot tub’s great ain’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. I am gonna be so relaxed, I probably won’t be sore tomorrow from the exercise.”

“If ya haven’t forgot, I wanna get some mental exercise tonight and see if we can figure out a bit more about those damn rustlers.”

“I haven’t forgot. What did ya have in mind?”

“I’ll explain it when we’re about to start researchin’. Mike, you want to have dinner with me? I got some burger meat, buns, fixins, and some cole slaw. I could open a can of baked beans too.”

“You got a date, but only if you’ll let me clean up. José and Josh ain’t gonna be back until real late or early tomorrow morning. There’s nothin’ to do there other than read or watch TV. I’d rather spend the time here with you. Besides, I wanna hear what you’re thinkin’ about the rustlers.”

“Okay.” I slid down and leaned back until only my head was out of the water. It was relaxing and comfortable. After a while, it began to get pretty hot. I sat up, moved around to where the deck was, and pulled myself out. I felt my arm and turned to Mike and said, “Hmm… medium rare.”

He laughed. I stood up, went down the steps and over to my towel, and dried off. I moved over to the chairs by the table and grabbed one of the Gatorades and took a big swig. Mike pulled himself outta the hot tub. He grabbed his towel, dried off, and then very self-consciously came over and sat in a chair opposite me.

“Have a Gatorade. It’s really easy to get dried out in the hot tub.”

He took a swig, looked at me and asked, “Were you serious about us goin’ huntin’ in a month or so?”

“Sure was. We can start puttin’ out oats and corn in the high pasture near the line camp. I know Wayne took some supplies up there. If you wanna take some time to help me, we could build a deer blind or two.”

“That sounds great! I ain’t been huntin’ since I was fourteen. My old man never went, but a couple of guys from church did. I got invited along a few times. I really don’t have any gear. I’ll have to borrow or buy some.”

“Between me and what Dad left, I got plenty, bud. We got stuff that hides your scent and all. You got a rifle don’t ya?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good shot?”

“I hit more than I miss. What about you, Jeff?”

“I can shoot. I’m a bit outta practice, but with a couple of days of target practice, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m lookin’ forward to that very much.”

“Me too. Now let’s get in the house, get dressed, and get some dinner. I’m coolin’ down from bein’ in the hot tub, and it is
cold
out here.”

“You’re gonna have to loan me somethin’ to wear. Or I gotta run out to the bunkhouse like this. My workout clothes were soaked with sweat.”

“Follow me. I figure I have an extra pair of sweats.” We walked upstairs to my room. I walked in and went to my dresser. I pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt for Mike, and a set for me. “Need socks?”

“Yes, please.” I threw him a pair. He had already donned the sweats. I sat down, put on my socks, and then my sweats. Mike watched.

Then we headed downstairs, and I began fixin’ dinner. I mixed the burger meat with some onion soup mix, A1, Worcestershire sauce, and pepper, and formed burgers that I browned in a cast-iron skillet. While the burgers were cookin’, I fixed the side dishes and put together fixings for the burgers. I put those on the table with ketchup, mayo, and mustard. I toasted a couple of buns, and Mike got a couple bottles of beer and opened them. We sat down to eat. I raised my beer bottle to him.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” We each took a sip. It tasted good, nice and cold after the workout and the hot tub.

“Thanks for the meal. The burgers smell great.” Mike had put just about everything on his burger and slathered it with ketchup and mustard. I made mine up the same way, but with mayo instead of mustard. We ate in a companionable silence. We polished off everything I had fixed. Mike jumped up and began to clean.

“You cooked, I’m doin the dishes.”

“You got it. I’m gonna go get my laptop and build a fire in the fireplace. Can you bring us in a couple a beers when you come in?”

“Sure thing!” I ran upstairs and got my laptop. I took it down to the living room, and got the fire started in the fireplace. Then I sat down at my laptop and began to search. Mike joined me with the beers.

“What ya lookin’ for?”

“I got this idea that the rustlers have been hittin’ through the area, usin’ the national forest and undeveloped areas for a base. Since a lot of the areas around the forest land are not in his jurisdiction, Sheriff Johnston might not even know about some rustlin’s.”

“I tried ‘cattle rustling’ and got 288,000 results. I reckon, I’m gonna have to be a little more specific.” I tried “cattle rustling WA” and got only 63,000 results.

“Hey, lookit there.” Mike pointed at the screen. “They mention Okanogan County.”

We leaned in together and read the article. It dealt with cattle rustling in our area.

“Can you go over to the big desk by the wall there and check in the top drawer. There should be a map of Washington. If you could bring it and a red marker over here, I’d be mighty obliged.” He jumped up and got the map and marker. When he sat down again he had a pen and some paper too.

“Good man! We’re gonna need those.” I spread out the map on the coffee table.

“I’m gonna mark where the rustlins are taking place.” We leaned in together to look at the article again. I marked our ranch, and a couple of other places I knew plus the places mentioned in the article.

“Would ya look at that!” Mike was gettin’ a bit excited. “They all back up to the national forest.” We kept skimming the search results, but didn’t find much more relevant in the first five pages.

“Yep, they sure do back up on the forest land, buddy, so what do we try next?”

“How about lookin’ in the local papers for Chelan, Tonasket, Ellensburg, Cle Elum, Leavenworth, and Wenatchee?” I tried Chelan first.

“Bingo! Will ya lookee there, buddy! There’s about five more rustlins south of here, all backed up against the national forest.”

Mike leaned in to look at the areas and started marking them on the map. “I got ’em marked on the map. It looks like it’s part of a rough circle.”

“I’m gonna try the
Okanogan Gazette
. A big part of the area we’re lookin’ at is in Okanogan County.” I typed in the newspaper name and cattle rustling.

“You got a couple of hits right off, Jeff.”

“Yeah, this is almost too easy.”

“I wonder why nobody’s done this or thought of it before. Or maybe they have, and just not talked about it.” Mike’s brows were furrowed in concentration. He marked some more spots on the map. Our circle was growing. He turned to me and asked, “So what about the west side, are there any ranches up there, or is it all national forest and national park?”

“I think in the national forest there are a few small holdings, but I’m not sure about any decent size ranches. But there are some holdings that date from before the forest or park. I remember once when I was a little guy, goin’ to one to sell a bull.”

“So what are you gonna search under now?”

“If I remember correctly, the name of the ranch was High Cascade Ranch, or North Cascade Ranch, or something simple like that.” I tried both with cattle rustling thrown in for good measure. No hits. We leaned back and took a couple of swigs of beer. “We were on a roll for a bit there, buddy. Got any ideas?”

“How about tryin’ the name of some of the mountains or creeks or rivers in that area?”

“Could be, let’s try.” We spent about a half an hour on fruitless searches. By that time, we’d finished our beers, so I went into the kitchen and got a couple more. When I headed back into the living room, Mike was doin’ a search.

“Jeff, I got it! It says here that the Cascade Mountain Ranch was hit by rustlers twice.”

“You’re a genius! I can’t believe I didn’t think of Cascade Mountain. Cheers!”

I marked on the map the location of the ranch that got hit. We did a couple of searches on Tonasket, a town to the north and a bit east of us. We scored another hit. Our circle was complete. The map was unfortunately not super detailed. Mike came up with the idea of using MapQuest. We began pulling up the maps and taking them down to the detail of the small forest service roads and logging roads that crisscrossed the national forest. It took a while, but as we got each location marked on the map down to the yard. I marked and saved the maps.

“I think we need to print ’em out, buddy, to get a good idea of what is happenin’ where.”

“We’re gonna have to print the sections in-between, too, or we’re gonna have a partial patchwork that won’t do anyone any good.” Mike looked at me. I stared back, knowin’ what he proposed would take a hell of a lot of work and paper.

“You’re right. A job worth doin’ ain’t worth doin’ halfway. Let’s get all the maps marked and numbered, so we know how to fit ’em together once they’re printed. Then we can take the laptop and hook it up to the printer.”

We began the even longer process of saving and numbering maps to fill in the blank areas. By the time we were done, we had over ninety maps marked. We headed upstairs to my room, and I hooked up the laptop, got some paper outta my desk, and began to print. While I added the ninety some pages to the print queue, Mike looked around.

“I like your room, Jeff. It kinda mirrors you.” I liked my room too. It was one of the two master-type bedrooms in the house. It had its own bathroom, walk-in closet, and a set of French doors opening on a little balcony set back in the roof. There were two skylights in the ceiling right over the bed. Many a night I’d lain awake looking at the moon and stars. The bed was a queen-size log bed. I was kind of a neat freak, so the bed was made, its Pendleton Indian blanket pulled up over the comforter and flannel sheets. The floor was wood, with some Navajo type rugs placed around. The walls were decorated with a mix of cowboy pictures and paintings. They ranged from photographs by Stoecklein to a stylized painting of the San Diego Gay Rodeo by a California artist named Riccoboni. I also had a lariat curled up on the wall, and on another wall was a shelf holding my rodeo buckles and some trophies. On my desk and on top of my dresser were some photos of me, me and my dad, and several of me at different gay rodeos. Mike picked up one and brought it over to me.