Two Sides of the Same Coin (17 page)

“Just tell me when. It’s comin’ up on the end of September, so it shouldn’t be more than a month or so.” She and Ryan said their goodbyes and left.

It was after noon, so I wandered into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. I called the sheriff’s office, only to find out that he was outta town until tomorrow evening. I figured I’d see him on Sunday for dinner, so I could give him the map papers and talk to him about what Mike and I thought. I was tired as hell from little sleep last night, so I kicked my boots off, went in to the couch, and within just a couple of minutes, I was sound asleep.

I was having this great dream where Mike and I were riding through a forest, laughing and joking with each other. I looked at him and then at me, and realized we were bare assed naked. Up ahead was a cabin. We rode up to it and started to dismount. Then I stepped on something with my bare foot that tickled. I kicked my foot, but it still kept tickling. I realized something was tickling my foot; I could feel it through my sock. I opened my eyes, and there was Mike, a big grin on his face, running his finger up and down my foot.

“Hey, buddy. You sure know how to wreck a good dream.”

“Was I in it?”

“I believe you were.” I looked around and noticed it was dusk. “What time is it?”

“It’s after six.”

“Wow, so I slept about four hours. I guess I musta needed it.”

“Yeah, I was lucky enough to get a nap in too. José, Josh, and me got the scales for the cattle in place and put water troughs in the corral too. Wasn’t much to do, so I headed back to the bunkhouse and got some shut eye.”

“And ya woke up hungry and thought you’d come and see if we were still on for dinner.” Mike grinned at me.

“You got it. One thing though, are we gonna have to stop by Sheriff Johnston’s house to give him the stuff we put together?”

“I called earlier; he’s outta town now. I figure we can give it to him Sunday when we have dinner there. Now let’s go eat!” I pulled on my boots, grabbed a jacket, and we headed out to my truck. As we walked across the yard, I noticed lights from the TV in Wayne’s trailer.

“Looks like Wayne’s home,” I said.

“He musta got here sometime this afternoon. Think we should go say hi?”

“Yeah, let’s do that. He might need something.” We walked over, and I knocked on the door. After a few moments, Wayne opened it.

“Evenin’ boys. What are you two up to?”

“We saw your lights on and thought we’d stop by and say hello and see if you need anything,” I answered.

“That’s real kind of ya. I reckon I’m all set here. I got a bunch of them Swanson TV dinners and beer, so I don’t need to go out. I still got some pain pills, so my side ain’t botherin’ me too much. You boys wanna come in?”

“How about a rain check on that, Wayne? We were just on our way up town to get a bite to eat. You wanna come by for coffee or breakfast tomorrow?”

“Let’s see how I’m feelin’. It would be nice to catch up with ya, Jeff. Seems with one thing or another, we ain’t had much time to visit since you got back.”

“I’d like that a lot, Wayne.”

“Good, I’ll see ya tomorrow then. Mike, you keep out of trouble there, ya hear?” Wayne smiled a big smile at Mike.

“Hell, Wayne, we done had enough trouble to last a long time. I’m done with trouble.” Wayne laughed. It was nice to see him feeling better. I reckoned that the pain meds might have something to do with it though.

“Night boys, have fun.”

“Night, Wayne,” We chorused.

We got in the truck and headed off down the road to Winslett. When we got there, we found a parking spot and ambled down the street to the cantina. We settled in a booth, and the waitress came by right away. She was a girl who was a couple of years younger than me. I remembered her from high school.

“Evening guys, anything to drink?”

“Howdy, Debbie, I’ll have an Anchor Steam.”

“Okay, Jeff; what about you?”

“Make it two.”

“So how are you guys doin’ this evening?”

“Fair to middlin’,” Mike answered and then asked, “How about you?”

“No complaints. So, Jeff, I hear you’re gonna be featured in the artists’ co-op sometime.” Ya gotta love a small town. The news got around before I did.

“That’s right.”

“I’m glad to hear that. ’Bout time they had a local artist instead of a transplant.” You could always get hours of conversation from any local about the pros and cons of the weekenders and tourists coming in from Seattle. One thing they had done is quadrupled house prices here. A lot of the locals resented it.

“We gotta make some money off of ’em somehows.”

“Most of ’em do tip pretty well, though.”

“That’s a good thing,” Mike added.

“It sure is for me. You boys sit tight, and I’ll be right back with your beers.”

She had the beer on the table in a flash, and we ordered. I had the burrito especial, and Mike had the taco and enchilada combination plate. We split an order of nachos to start. I had asked Debbie for extra jalapenos on the nachos. I took a long sip of my beer.

“Sure tastes good don’t it, buddy?”

“Yep, I like Anchor Steam beer.” Mike leaned back in the booth. In the dim light of the cantina, his beard looked much darker than normal. It was a big contrast with his white cowboy hat. My own hat was black felt. We were both duded up. Myself, still from the morning interview, and Mike, for God knows what reason, but I wasn’t complaining. I liked looking at him in his tight jeans, dinner plate belt buckle, and bright striped shirt. We sat back and admired each other until Debbie brought the nachos.

“You guys want a pitcher? It’s cheaper than by the mug if you’re gonna have a couple.”

Mike nodded, so I said, “Bring it on!” We dug into the nachos.

“Ain’t nothin’ better than beer and Mexican food is there, Jeffy?”

“You can say that again.”

“I was wonderin’, how many rustlers do ya think there are? Can’t be too many.”

“I reckon you’re right. I’d say three, maybe four at most. Two to drive the cattle to a makeshift pen, one to push ’em into a processing truck, and maybe one to process if the other guys ain’t doin’ it. I guess at that stage, they all could help.”

“Gotta be a local too.”

“Either that or someone who’s spent a lot of time around here. I’d guess to fly so long under the radar, they’d have to know the forest service roads pretty well.”

“That’s pretty fucked up though.” Mike looked disgusted. “Ya hate to think your friends or neighbors could be in on somethin’ like that.”

“True. The town’s small enough so everyone knows, or knows of, everyone else.”

“I wonder if the sheriff has any suspects.”

“I doubt it, Mike. Given the fact they murdered one man, shot another, and shot at a third, I think if he did, he’d lean on ’em awful hard.”

“It still don’t add up to me that they’d shoot to kill.”

“Me either, bud.” Just then Debbie brought us our dinners and a pitcher of beer. Both the nacho plate and our mugs were empty. She refilled the beer mugs.

“Anything else, guys?”

“We’re all set. Thanks!” She smiled at us and walked over to the next table. The food smelled great. Nice and spicy. I looked at Mike and raised my glass.

“To friends. I am really glad Dad hired you.”

“I am too, Jeff. I ain’t never had a friend like you.” I smiled at him.

“You’re right there, buddy. I am pretty special, and you are lucky to have caught my eye.” He snorted and put his beer mug down.

“Yeah, a nice modest, humble friend like you.”

I laughed and continued teasing “Well, Mike, I’m smart, likeable, and best of all drop dead gorgeous.” He laughed again and raised his glass.

“You know I will agree with you on that. Even though I can say you got a mighty high opinion of yourself.”

“Thanks. All teasin’ aside, you’re pretty incredible yourself. You’re sharp as a tack, and one of the handsomest men I ever seen.”

“Thanks. You know, I never been able to joke around with someone like we do. I’ve never had a friend who makes me feel special rather than some stupid redneck.”

“That’s a good part of what bein’ a friend is about. Friends support each other, laugh together, do stuff together, and if needed, tell each other they got too high an opinion of themselves.” He laughed at that one, and then looked at me seriously.

“I remember you sayin’ that your dad would be happy knowin’ we’re friends and hang around together.” I thought about that one for a couple of minutes. Dad knew I was gay and had met some of my gay friends. He was always open and accepting. He’d read some books about parents of gays and lesbians, and had even attended a PFLAG meeting or two in Wenatchee. I guess he’d developed a bit of a gaydar. Enough to reach out to Mike, who shared the story of his hurt and horrific childhood, and make Dad take him under his wing. He had said that Mike reminded him a bit of me in one discussion they’d had that Mike told me about. They’d also talked enough for Dad to know Mike and I had a lot of common interests. When I started goin’ seriously with Robert, I could tell Dad didn’t really like him. His only comment was, “If he makes you happy, then I’m happy. No one should have to be alone.” I noticed Mike was staring at me intently.

“Ya know I reckon he would. I really have an inklin’ that he mighta been tryin’ to set us up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, think about it. Dad knew you’re gay didn’t he?” Mike nodded. “And he told you all about me, my background, my hobbies, interests, and all that right?”

“Yeah….”

“Do you think he coulda been doin’ a sales job on ya? Sellin’ me to you?”

Mike laughed. “If he did, he was mighty slick about it.”

“And successful, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Yeah, I guess I’d have to say that.” I felt Mike’s boots touch mine under the table. I pushed my feet out, so our boots were intertwined. We sat there and smiled at each other as we ate and sipped our beers. We polished off the food and finished the pitcher.

“Buddy, what do ya say we walk up the street to One Eyed Jack’s? Maria will be there. Sandy’s workin’ and they got a band tonight. I could stand listenin’ to some good honky tonk. And their pitchers are cheaper there.”

“Okay by me.” I insisted on paying since I’d invited Mike. He said okay only on the promise that he could pay for the pitcher in the saloon. We headed out into the night. It was cold. Enough so that I was glad I wore my jacket. The air was clear, and a million stars shined down on us. I could smell wood smoke, dust from the street, and grease from a deep fryer in one of the open restaurants on Main Street. Mike and I walked down the street. We both had our hands in our pockets and were close enough to bump shoulders. It was nice. One Eyed Jack’s was only a block away, and we got there pretty quick. The restaurant side was crowded, but the bar side where the band would play was just starting to fill. I noticed Maria and José in a booth. They saw us and waved us over. José got up and sat next to Maria. Mike and I sat across from them. The band was just setting up, and Sandy showed up immediately.

“No Josh?” I was wondering if he was in the bathroom and we were taking his seat.

“No, he had a date in Wenatchee. The cabrón left us all alone tonight.” Maria slapped José’s arm at the swearword, but she was smiling.

“Cochino,” she chided José. Mike looked at me quizzically.

“Pig,” I said under my breath. Sandy smiled at us all sitting together.

“Hey, Jeff, Mike. Nice to see you guys. Are you ready for the big entertainment tomorrow, Jeff?”

“I’ll get the steaks out of the freezer when I get back home and put the beans on to soak. We can do everythin’ else tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she said and then asked, “What are ya havin’ to drink?” I looked at Mike.

“A pitcher okay, bud?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Okay then Sandy, how about a pitcher of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale?”

“Comin’ right up. And it’s on me.” José leaned over the table as Sandy walked to the bar.

“Are you guys on a date?”

Maria slapped his arm again. She said, “Les dejen en paz. Te van a decir lo que quieren cuando quieren.” I turned to Mike and whispered.

“Leave ’em alone. They’ll tell you when they want to.” Mike had turned a brilliant shade of red. He looked at José, who had asked the question in all seriousness.

“How do you know about me? I never told you.” At least he wasn’t denying anything.

“The way you look at Jeff. It is no big deal, Mike. If you are together, I am very happy for you both. If you are just friends, I am happy. Mike, I’m your friend, your amigo. I want the best for you.” Mike stared at him with an abashed look on his face.

“Thanks. It’s kinda new for me to be honest about who I am, okay? If I seem kinda uncomfortable or don’t answer or somethin’ like that, well, I just don’t come from a background where bein’ gay was acceptable.”

Maria reached over and put her hand over his. “We are your friends, Mike. We want what’s best for you.” She then got a mischievous look in her eye, smiled, and asked, “So, is it a date?”

Mike leaned over the table, and both José and Maria leaned in. He whispered loud enough for me and Sandy, who’d just brought the pitcher and two mugs, to hear, “I’m workin’ on it.”

“Workin’ on what?” Sandy was eyeing us all suspiciously. Mike took a deep breath, and looked around. Everyone looked back at him including me.

“Datin’ Jeffy here.” Mike was still beet red, but looked pleased with himself. José and Maria were beaming at him. I guess by this time, I was a little red myself. Sandy’s eyebrows went up. She laughed and looked at me.

“Jeffy?
Jeffy
?” Maria and José were tryin’ hard not to laugh. “I gotta remember that one, Jeffy.” She continued laughing.

“Hey, I like it when he calls me that.”

“Can I call you Jeffy too, boss?” José was laughing now.

“Sure you can, if you’re willin’ to do what he’s gonna do
if
he and me get together.” José stopped dead in his tracks at that, and Maria and Sandy burst out laughing. José finally joined in, followed by Mike and me.

“Does Josh know?” Mike was still worrying about who knew.

“Sí, he is not blind.” José looked at Mike. “And he does not care either.” Mike raised his glass.