Two Sides of the Same Coin (59 page)

We used our bodies to speak for us, each little touch or movement seemed to speak volumes.

“How’s that feel, buddy?”

“Nice, real nice.”

“What’s it feel like when I’m inside you?” He gave a big sigh and gazed up at me.

“At first, I feel real stretched, real full. I start relaxin then, and it feels fantastic. I feel you movin’ in and out through my whole body. When you push in, it makes my dick twitch. I like lookin’ at you like this too.” I kissed him long and slow. I stopped thrustin’ and moved my hips side to side.

“Oh yeah, that’s good!” I began movin’ again. “That’s intense, the way you’re movin’ against my cock, Jeffy. It feels so good.”

“I like makin’ you feel good.”

“You do. You know how to touch me.”

“You like gettin’ fucked too.”

“I love it, Jeffy. It makes me feel so close to you.” We kissed some more. I moved my tongue against his in the same rhythm my cock was movin’ in his ass.

“You got such a tight ass, buddy, tight but sweet. You just seem to suck me in.”

He clamped down with his ass on my cock. It felt great.

“That’s the way, buddy, ride my dick. Show me how much you like gettin’ fucked.” He was pushing back against me and arching his back to push his cock against me. He was startin’ to whimper and moan more. “Ride my dick, buddy, you know what I like. Yeah, that’s it, fuck back. Make me feel good.”

He was gettin’ more and more excited, bucking all over the bed, almost like he was trying to throw me off.

“How ya doin’?”

“Fuckin’ awesome. This is so good. Feels so good. Fuck me, Jeff; show me how much you like fuckin’ me.”

I picked up the pace a bit, and every few strokes I’d move sideways a bit. Our bellies and his cock were all wet and sticky. He was dripping precum.

“You gettin’ close, buddy?” I could feel him starting to tremble.

“Yeah, Jeffy, that’s it, just keep that up.”

“Your Jeffy givin’ you a good fuck?”

“Hell yes!”

“I’m makin your ass sing, ain’t I.”

“Keep fuckin’, keep it up, oh….”

“You like me on top of ya, don’t ya?”

“Oh yeah, I love it.”

“Yeah, this is what you really want all the time. Be on your back, knees by your ears, feet in the air, legs spread wide, and your Jeffy’s dick reamin’ that tight ass of yours. You just love gettin’ fucked.”

“I need, I really need it.” He started clamping down, and all of a sudden I felt the warmth of his cum, shooting across my belly and chest. I smelled the musky smell he’d just shot out. His thrashing got to me, and I lost it and came. We lay together for a few minutes.

“Jeff?”

“Yeah, buddy, what’s up?”

“You mentioned that you were tested for HIV not too long ago, weren’t ya?”

“Just before I came back. I’m negative.”

“I think I’m gonna get tested in Wenatchee.”

“Good idea. Everyone should know their status.”

“I don’t think I’m positive.”

“If you were only gettin’ blowjobs before we got together, you’re probably not.”

“What if I am?”

“Then we’ll get you a good doctor and manage it.”

“You’d still stay with me?”

“Of course. The way I see it is I always assume that anyone I sleep with is positive. So I always practice safe sex. Besides, if I feel close enough to someone to have sex with ’em, I respect ’em enough to play safe.”

“If I do test negative are we still gonna practice safe sex?”

“I sure as hell don’t want to sleep with anyone else, and you said you don’t, so we won’t need to. We do need to be committed enough to each other and honest enough that if one of us screws up, he’s gotta fess up right away and get tested again.”

“Do a lot of gay guys in relationships screw around?”

“I’d guess more than half have ‘open relationships’ where they’re free to go play with others. They follow whatever rules they set.”

“I don’t want that. It hurts to think of you fuckin’ someone else.”

“I don’t want that either. You’re my one and only. Besides, you love gettin’ fucked so much, I don’t have any energy for anyone else.” He laughed and swung a pillow at me.

“In all seriousness, Mike, I want to be monogamous just because it makes sex special, an expression of love, carin’, bondin’, not just gettin’ off.”

“I agree with that.”

“I reckon when we have dudes, we’re both gonna get hit on by men and by women.”

“You think so?”

“I’m pretty sure, buddy.”

“On a different subject, I registered for classes to get my GED.”

“Good for you! I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. If ya need help with your homework, please let me know.”

“So what reward do I get for every A that I get?”

“I’ll have to think on that.” We cuddled together; Mike was drifting off. I told him my standard good night phrase.

“Let’s get some sleep, bud; we done used up this day.” He was soon breathing regularly and asleep. I couldn’t sleep though. Something was nagging me, hiding in the back of my mind, just outta reach. I kept going over in my mind the last few days. Finding out Mark was involved with the rustlers, and then his gettin’ killed, Smitty and Jeanette workin’ here, Tom and Ann and the kids coming up here for Halloween, Harrison running up to me and yelling out, “Uncle Jeff!”

That did it! I remembered his running out of the barn on Halloween night. Turning and waving at me and Mike, then running again and bumping into Wayne, who stepped off the walk into the mud to let Harrison run by.

The one track in the mud, the distinctive boots leaving tracks all over. Shit! Wayne was involved. I’d bet on it. But why? The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. He hadn’t been around any time when there was an incident except for the time he and Mike got shot at. I told myself, Wayne got shot. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was not a serious shot, just in loose skin on his side. He could have used the gun on himself.

Other things began occurring to me; he’d seen the map of the national forest up on my laptop, and then Porky tried to steal it. Wayne didn’t know I’d had an alarm installed. He sure knew enough about cattle to mastermind the rustling. I kept coming back to why. Why would he do something like that? Wayne was enough of an outdoorsman to know that trashing my truck thirty-some miles from the road could be fatal. Pedro must’ve recognized him. When it looked like Porky or Mark was gonna get arrested, then they were killed. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why though. What motivation could Wayne have for all the killings and going after me and Mike? I’d known Wayne all my life. What could turn him into a monster? Mike was still sleeping. I slowly disentangled myself without waking him. I kissed his cheek. He hugged the pillow tighter and whispered, “Jeffy.”

I needed to call the sheriff. I fumbled around in the dark and grabbed a pair of underwear and socks and then some sweats. I headed downstairs. I called the sheriff’s phone, but it went into voicemail. I left a message telling him my thoughts on who was behind the rustlings and why I felt that way. There had to be more to it than that though. Why? Wayne had always been around. He knew he always had a place here, so why would he turn on me? I looked out the back door. His trailer was dark. I had to see if I could find proof. I felt like a traitor to even suspect Wayne, but the circumstantial evidence was strong. I couldn’t get my head around the fact that good old Wayne could be a murderer.

Since he was off in Idaho, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to look in his trailer. I was really hoping that there would be nothing for me to find. I pulled on my boots and walked past the bunkhouse. I could see Josh in the kitchen, his back was to me, and he was making a pot of coffee. I continued on to Wayne’s dark trailer. I knocked on the door. No answer. I looked back at the house. I’d turned off the alarm and left the back door open. I should go back and at least close the door and set the alarm. What the hell, I might only be a few minutes.

I tried the handle to the trailer door. Unlocked. Folks here don’t lock their doors, but with more and more city people, it’s getting more common. I turned on the light. Wayne kept his quarters pretty neat. On his coffee table was one of the first bronzes I’d ever made; I had given it to him. I started looking around. He had a little filing cabinet next to the couch. I opened it up. There was a folder labeled “Will”. I opened it to find a copy of my dad’s will. I hadn’t read the whole thing yet. I leafed through it. Highlighted in yellow marker was a clause saying if I predeceased my dad, Wayne became the heir. The why got a little clearer. I looked through the filing cabinet. There was a folder that was unmarked. I opened it up. There were receipts from the sale of organic, free range beef to various restaurants and natural markets in Seattle. I needed to get the sheriff. I stood up and turned around. Wayne was standing in the doorway holdin’ a pistol on me.

“You figured it all out?”

“Yeah, I did. I called the sheriff before I headed out here, so he knows what I know.”

“You didn’t listen to the radio, did you? There was a pileup of six or seven cars east of town, with some serious injuries. The sheriff will be there for a few more hours, and you’ll be dead.”

“Why, Wayne? I never did nothin’ to you. I woulda made sure you were comfortable for the rest of your life. Now that the will’s probated, why kill me?”

“I worked here for over ten years before you were born. I put my life into this place. You know I started it with your dad. I was the first foreman here.”

“Yeah, he told me that.”

“Then you come along, and you turn out to be a fag,” Wayne said.

“You never seemed to have a problem with that before.”

“I seen the light. I started goin’ to Reverend Spencer’s church in Pateros. He showed me how God hates sin. You don’t even try to change, Jeff. You’re proud to be what you are. God will judge you. You’re a filthy sodomite, and everything you want falls in your lap. I reckon the devil himself is payin’ you off. I work my ass off for almost thirty-five years for everything I’ve done to enrich some cocksucking sodomite.” I was thinking I needed to keep him talking. Maybe Josh would see the open door on the house, or Mike would miss me, or the sheriff would come.

“Is your mother in Idaho really dyin’?”

“You’ve always been way too naïve, Jeff. If you like someone, you trust them. My old lady’s been dead for years. I’ve been stayin’ around here, just lookin’ for a way to send you off to God’s judgment and then to hell,” Wayne spat. “You wanted to believe in me, and you did.”

“How does the rustlin’ fit in with all this?” I asked.

“If I couldn’t kill you before the will was probated, it was my insurance. It was easy enough to recruit folks. I met Mark at church. When he heard about you bein’ a homo, he agreed it was wrong and helped me with the rustlin’. Maybe we could drive you away. The bible says that if a man lies with a man as with a woman he shall surely be put to death. You’re lookin’ at your executioner, Jeff. The wages of sin is death, and it’s caught up with you. I’m gonna kill that blond asshole you love stickin’ your dick in so much. Maybe I’ll tie you up and tie him up and make him watch me cut off your dick and balls and shove ’em down his throat to choke ’em. Faggot oughta die happy then.

“You both deserve to die, fuckin’ queers. You act like it’s normal. You make me sick, you and that little fuck toy of yours. God hates fags, Jeff, and he’s gonna let me get away with the whole thing for killin’ you and your plaything. Maybe as you’re bleedin’ out from havin’ your dick and nuts cut off, I’ll carve ‘The wages of sin is death’ on your chest. A warning to fags. Reverend Spencer knows your plan. You work so hard makin’ people think you’re normal, workin’ behind the scenes to take over the country and make it a haven for filthy perverts, and discriminate against good God fearing Christians. You’re dead, you scumbag, fucking, filthy homo.”

I hadn’t even been able to get a word in edgewise. His voice was going up and down, and his eyes had a wild and crazy look in them.

“You know what, fag? I am gonna cut your dick and balls off and use ’em to stuff down your little pervert friend’s throat. Then I’m gonna light this place on fire. Burn you. It’ll be preparation for hell!”

“And just how does your stealin’ cattle and comittin’ murder align with your God’s plan? Did Spencer tell you that was okay too?”

“You disgust God, Jeff. I’m doin’ His work in killin’ you and that trash you defile yourself with. God is the one who told me I had to kill Mort, the one you called Porky, since he kept messin’ up. When Mark let you know he was in on it, he failed God and had to die too.”

His eyes had this insane look to them. I could tell he’d gone insane. If he had started foaming at the mouth, I wouldn’t have been surprised. He laughed, a high-pitched eerie cackle that sent a chill up and down my spine.

“That’s what I’ll do; I’ll tie you and that blond faggot you sodomize all the time together and start this place on fire. I’ll burn the two of you to death, after I cut off your dicks and balls and put them in each other’s mouths.”

I understood the phrases “so mad I can’t see straight” and “seeing red.” I was so angry, a red haze was clouding my vision. I could feel adrenaline rushing through my system. His threatening Mike made me angrier than I’d ever been.

“Whatever happened to ‘God is Love’ and ‘Judge not lest thou be judged’?” I was surprised I sounded so calm.

“God hates sin! He
hates
it. That don’t apply to filth like you. God is a just God, and the wages of sin is death. You’re so proud of bein’ sinful, you parade it around.”

I was tryin’ to think of some way to get the gun away from him. I could hear the wind coming up. I was about to get killed, and I noticed the weather. I tried to keep my eyes on him, but scan with my peripheral vision to see if there was anything to help me. I backed up half a step, and my left hand touched the bronze. I had an idea.

I was gonna yell out, “Josh, in here!” in hopes he would look behind him. Before I could speak, a gust of wind shook the trailer. The back door of the house slammed loudly. Wayne turned his head a bit, taking his eyes off me. I grabbed the bronze and started swinging it forward in an overhead arc. I leapt at Wayne. He turned faster than I would have thought possible, and pulled the trigger on the gun. Suddenly, my shoulder felt on fire. It was the most painful thing I had ever felt. I was dizzy from the pain. The bullet hadn’t stopped my momentum. Before he could aim and fire again, I was on him. The bronze swung down and knocked into his forehead and nose. I slammed into him, and we both fell the four or so feet from the door of the trailer to the ground. The forward momentum carried us past the steps; Wayne’s gun went flying. He landed on his back, and I landed on top of him. I felt something in him snap. I still held on to the bronze. I lifted it up. It seemed a lot heaver than it did when I first picked it up. I slammed it as hard as I was able right in Wayne’s face. I think he was unconscious, but I was too messed up with the shot, the adrenaline, and the anger to care.