Two Sides of the Same Coin (6 page)

“Well, when I was about fifteen or so, I began to realize I’d much rather look at other guys than girls. I wanted to be normal, I mean straight, not like that. I thought, well, I’ll tell my old man, and he’ll know what to do. He’ll know how to get me some help and make me right. I don’t know if I told you my old man’s a preacher. Real hellfire and brimstone, the wrath of God this, and God smites that. We lived in a small town in Nebraska, Broken Arrow, population about three thousand. I talked with my old man on a Tuesday. He asked me to pray with him and we did. I asked God to make me straight and so did my old man. Then on Wednesday prayer meeting, he asked the congregation to pray to deliver me from the sin and evil lifestyle of a homosexual.”

Having grown up in a small town, I knew how fast gossip flies. Being gay in a small town, I know you have to learn to fight and stand up for yourself either verbally, physically, or both pretty quick.

“No, he didn’t!” was the only response I could make.

“Yeah, the son of a bitch did!” The anger was coming back. There was so much bitterness and hatred in Mike’s voice. “A few days after that, a bunch of boys stopped me on the way home from school; they beat me to a pulp, and took off my jeans and put a skirt on me. Then they held me down and put makeup all over my face. They just smeared it on, like I was some type of clown.”

“Hell, Mike, I am so sorry you had to go through that. I hope your father backed you up.” I put my hand on his shoulder. He seemed not to notice. His laugh was cold and the least funny thing I’d ever heard.

“Not at all. I got a whooping for being a sissy and not standing up for myself. Then on Sunday he asked the congregation to pray for me to deliver me from sin and evil and to make me a man, not a sissy. Even when I stood up for myself, I got beat for fightin’. He kept askin’ me if all the prayers were working and I was startin’ to hanker after women. Like a fool, I said no, and then he and a couple of the deacons of the church decided to beat the devil outta me, for my own good. Can you imagine an appointment at the church three times a week to get the shit beaten outta you?”

I was speechless with horror, but he didn’t really expect an answer. His voice changed to a flat monotone, which I knew he used to hide the abysmal misery he had endured.

“He’d ask every month or so if I had changed. After a year of beatings and public prayer requests, he just started ignoring me. He didn’t want to be seen in public with me, never talked to me, and just acted like I wasn’t there. He also punished my brother or sister for talking to me. By that time, I was pretty much an outcast. I was the town fag and didn’t have any friends. Then on my sixteenth birthday, he told me he had a surprise for me. He’d packed a small suitcase with some clothes and stuff, and gave me two hundred dollars and a one-way bus ticket to San Francisco. He told me my evil and sinful ways were not going to corrupt his family anymore. He said I was the devil’s son, not his. That was the last time I ever saw him or anyone else in my family. I’d never talked about it until I met your dad. Now I told you. Sandy knows too.”

“I am so, so, so sorry you had to go through that, Mike. I told you the other day, I’d like to be your friend and that was the truth. There are a lot of good folks out there who just see Mike, not a gay guy, or a straight guy, just Mike, Sandy for one.”

“Yeah,” he answered. “You know why you saw me at the rest area Friday night?”

Just before he said it, I saw it coming.

“I was there sticking my dick through a hole in the wall to get a blowjob. Hell Jeff, what a fuckin’ loser. No high school diploma, nothing to my name, a fag, and a pervert who has anonymous sex in public places. Maybe prison
is
where I belong. I sure as hell ain’t any good to anybody at all.”

“Mike, I’ll tell the sheriff that we stopped at the rest area so Robert could take a piss. We saw you there for the same reason. He’ll listen to that.”

“Yeah, but that was just a few minutes. What about the rest of the evening?”

“It’s a hell of a long way around on those forest service roads. If you were at the rest area, you didn’t have the time to get all the way to the back of the ranch.”

“Can’t hurt. Jeff, buddy, I am just about all talked out now. I need a drink.” He put his hand on top of mine as it rested on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“No problem, bud. Let’s go get drunk.”

We entered One Eyed Jack’s and saw a large table off in the bar area filled with somber people. José and Josh were both there as well as Sandy and Maria. There was a bottle of Knob Creek on the table, and a couple of pitchers of beer. Mike and I sat down, and he introduced himself to Maria. She smiled a sad smile at him, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, red from crying.

“Pedro told me about you. You guys got into a fight after he put salt in your coffee.”

“Somethin’ like that. He was a good guy. I should have more of a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, he told me you said that to him and said you were sorry.”

“Yeah….”

“He told me you were one of the best hands with a rope he ever saw.”

“I am so sorry, Maria.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, now let’s have a drink.” Mike raised his glass and gave a toast. “To Pedro, may he rest easy and know that we will never forget him.”

We all repeated, “To Pedro.”

“Where’s Wayne?” I asked.

“He said he had some stuff to do,” Josh answered. “I think he’s got a girl in Pateros or Wenatchee. He’s not been around a lot lately.”

“Why the secrecy then?” Sandy asked.

“Hell if I know, maybe she’s married or something.”

I pondered Josh’s reply. Wayne had been around since I could remember. I really hoped that he did have someone in his life, and I hoped she wasn’t married or otherwise attached.

“So Jeff, where’s your partner?” Sandy looked at me quizzically. “I know he wasn’t acquainted with Pedro, but you’d think he’d be here out of respect and to support you.”

José and Maria had been talking, and with Sandy’s question they turned to look at me. Both Josh and Mike were staring at me also.

“Uh… he’s still sore from fallin’ off that horse. Plus he had some proposal for work to get done. He’s stuck on his laptop.” My excuses for him sounded lame, even to myself. Mike said something under his breath, which sounded suspiciously like “Asshole,” and Josh, sitting next to him, nodded. Mike slammed another shot. I thought it was his third.

“Jeff, I’ve known you since we were kids. He’s not for you. Look at the way he treats your friends.” Sandy definitely had some thoughts on the subject.

Before I could answer back, José added, “Yeah, he treats us like shit, like we’re less than him.”

Maria joined in saying, “Pedro didn’t like him. He told me your friend treated him bad too. Pedro said you were his friend, but he didn’t like him.”

“I understand where you all are comin’ from, and I appreciate the advice from friends. Maybe I could ask you to cut him some slack. He doesn’t understand us, the things we do, how we act around each other, or how we joke around. I talked to him about tryin’ to see the other side and laugh at himself a bit. I talked to him, now I’m talkin’ to all of you.” I looked around and then continued to speak.

“We’re here to remember Pedro, not talk about Robert. So to Pedro,” I said as I raised a glass of whiskey. Everyone answered and had a shot. I decided I was done for the evening. I saw Mike take another shot and noticed he had finished his first glass of beer. He was on his way to getting sloshed.

“I’m done drinking for the night. So Maria, did Pedro have any brothers or sisters? I know his folks are gone.”

“No, Jeff, he was an only child.” She started to get tears in her eyes and added, “I remember when I first met him. He was in the hospital for a compound fracture in his arm. They kept him overnight, and I was his nurse. He was so shy, but then he came back to the hospital. He said it was so I could sign his cast, but he asked me out.”

“That’s sweet,” Sandy added.

“Maria has a few days off and is staying here with Sandy,” José commented, and Sandy nodded. “We’re gonna make some posole tomorrow in the bunkhouse kitchen. Wanna join us, boss?”

“Hell yes! You know good Mexican food is my favorite.”

“Posole was Pedro’s favorite too.” Maria sobbed.

We began to tell stories about Pedro, his life and escapades. The evening went on and as it did, Mike got pretty drunk. Knowing Robert was home and feeling a bit guilty about leaving him for so long, I volunteered to take Mike home. He was unsteady on his feet, so I put my arm around his back to support him. He threw an arm over my shoulders and leaned against me as we walked. As we got to the door of One Eyed Jack’s, he began to sing. I was surprised on two accounts: first, he had a nice voice, a rich tenor. Second, the song he was singing was a pretty raunchy cowboy song called “The Old Jism Trail” sung to the tune of “The Old Chisholm Trail.”

Ass in the saddle

And hand on the horn

I’m the best fuckin’ cowboy

Ever was born.

Whopee tie yai yippie

Tie yai yay

Whopee tie yai yippie ai ay!

I’m sick of pullin’ my peter

On the old jism trail

So I’m goin’ to Kansas City

To get a piece of tail.

Whopee tie yai yippie

Tie yai yay

Whopee tie yai yippie ai ay!

I joined in on the chorus, my deeper voice joining Mike’s.

“We sing pretty good together don’t we, Jeff?”

“You bet. Now let’s get you home.” We’d arrived at my truck, and I helped Mike in. He was pretty far gone, and I had to fasten his seatbelt for him.

“Jeff?” He was starting to slur his words. “Sandy’s right! Why are you with that son of a bitch anyway? You could do better. You’re good lookin’ from what I seen the other day; you got a great body and are hung like a horse. And you’re really smart and a nice guy. So what’s up with him?”

“Let’s not talk about my difficulties okay? And by the way, thanks for the compliments, Mike; you’re gonna make me blush.”

“Ssss true.” Mike slid down and either passed out or fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. He started snoring softly as we drove toward the ranch. When we got there, Wayne’s trailer was dark and so was the bunkhouse as the guys were all in Winslett.

I was gonna carry Mike in there and start the wood stove so he’d be warm, but figured what the hell, and carried him to the ranch house. I took him to a guest bedroom on the first floor. I pulled back the covers and lay him on the bed. He was out, so I pulled off his boots and socks. I reckoned I’d better make him comfortable. I unbuttoned and took off his shirt, and then unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off. I folded his clothes and put them on a chair near the door to the bedroom. He lay there, his red long handles unbuttoned to below his chest, showing a forest of red gold fur. I could see his cock down his left leg, and it was half hard. It was pretty impressive in size too. I sighed, and pulled up the covers so he wouldn’t get cold. Then just because it seemed the thing to do, I kissed him on the cheek. I walked softly out of the room and closed the door, then headed upstairs.

I walked into the spare room where Robert was staying. “Hey, Robert, did you finish your proposal?”

“Yeah, I did. I think it will go down really well.”

“Great, and how are you feelin’? Still sore?”

“I’m much better thank you, Jeffrey. So are you just about ready to pack up here and come back to the city with me?”

“Robert, I’ve got stuff to do here. I can’t just leave the ranch with no direction.”

“What is more important to you? The ranch or me?”

“I don’t want to get into this now. That’s really not a fair question. I have some responsibilities here. You knew when we started going out, I’m a cowboy. Hell, we even met at a rodeo; you seemed okay with me then and liked havin’ me park my boots under your bed. Now let’s shelve this discussion.”

He looked at me with a guarded expression. “Well, I was hoping you would change and I could civilize you. But anyway, we will talk about this later. So what took so long?”

“We stopped at Winslett and had a couple of drinks in Pedro’s honor. Mike got a bit toasty, and I brought him home.”

Robert’s face darkened. “That blond guy with the red beard? I see the way he looks at you. Are you having an affair with him?”

“Hell no!” I was starting to get angry. “Just what in the hell crawled up your ass and died? The last few months you’ve been nagging me constantly. Lately you’ve been really condescending and just plain mean.”

“I am getting sick and tired of having to correct your grammar, and tired of encouraging you to take advantage of your education. One would think you want to be a stupid hayseed for the rest of your life and hang around with trash like what I’ve seen here rather than with civilized people.”

“Get the fuck off’n your high horse! This is where I come from. These are my people. Maybe we can be a bit rough around the edges, but we are sure as hell a lot more genuine than your plastic, so-called friends in San Francisco. Stop tryin’ to change me!” I shouted out the last phrase, furious now.

“Jeffrey, let’s not argue. I just hope you see I am trying to change you for your own benefit.”

“I don’t understand, Robert. When we first met, you told me the way I talk was ‘cute’. You also liked goin’ to watch me in the rodeo. Now it seems like you’ve done a complete about-face. What happened?”

“Your roughness was nice at first, a turn-on. But it grates on one’s nerves quickly.”

“In other words, you had a cowboy fantasy and found out it just ain’t the same in real life. I am goin’ in the other room, and I am gonna get some sleep. I don’t want to deal with you anymore tonight. I’m me, Robert. And I sure as hell ain’t gonna change because you have a different fantasy than the one that started us off. Now good night!” I stomped out and went back to my room. I undressed quickly and got under the covers. Sleep didn’t come very quickly though. My thoughts kept going in a circle. I would remember undressing Mike, seeing him in just his long handles and putting him to bed. Then I would think about the long johns I had on, and how Robert used to think they were hot. Then I thought of Mike, and us singing on the streets of Winslett. Then about Robert and one evening when we went out to the Rawhide II, danced all night, and made love in the back of my truck in front of his condo. The way he used to laugh at what he called my “ranch accent.” My thoughts continued circling, and I finally fell into a restless sleep.