Markwildyr.com, Post #247
Got more hits than usual on last week’s post—the first half of this story—but not many comments. Have you figured things out yet? Well, let’s get to it. Here goes, the finale.
* * * *
Cee
One Eff One
I popped a lid off a brew and
retreated to my recliner to watch the news or a comedy or just to get some
noise in the room. Memories from my youth intruded too much for serious TV
watching, so it was probably the noise thing.
Four of us had bummed around. Dave and Hal and Robert and me. And the hanger-on, Bug. A couple of years younger
At any rate, Gus had been
kinda an oddball. Not exactly a mama’s boy, but not far from it. Guess maybe
that’s why he seemed to attach himself to me rather than my buddies. Come to
think of it, he always seemed to get along better with Dave and Hal and Bob
than with me. Seemed like he was trying too hard or something.
From the vantage point of
today, I looked back to wonder if he’d sensed in me what I didn’t know until
later. Not until college. That’s when I found out I was gay. Fought it, denied
it like crazy, but finally had to admit it when the school’s hunky quarterback
picked me up in a college bar one night and turned me every which way but
loose. After that, I knew the truth about myself. The jock came back for
refills occasionally, but not as often as I would have liked. That’s when I
learned the other side of the coin. Whenever the footballer came around, it was
just for one thing, to be serviced, and nothing else. At times, he acted
downright hostile. I didn’t realize until later he was angry with himself. In
his eyes, I was a weakness he succumbed to. By the time he graduated—a couple
of years ahead of me—I was glad to see him go… although I missed him terribly.
Had Bug—or Gus—seen my future
clearer than I had? Or was he struggling to face his own. Now, ten years later,
I regretted the disdain with which I’d treated the kid. I should have looked on
him as someone to mentor, not torment. And torment him, I did. I locked him in
restrooms, stole his clothes at the swimming hole and left him to cover himself
as best he could while walking home. I was a real bastard to him. Why? I don’t
know. Perhaps subconsciously I knew I was going to be bullied, so wanted to get
in a little of my own while I could. God! How petty can a man be?
I was so moved by my belated
recognition of how I’d treated Bug… no, he’d be Gus from now on… that I sent
him a long email apologizing for my behavior. I got no reply.
****
A few days later,
my phone beeped a text alert, but before I could answer it, the phone rang. I
recognized Gus’ blocked number and forgot all about answering the text. “Hello,”
I said, likely a little too breathlessly. “Glad you called.”
“So you’re
remembering the old days, huh?”
“Yeah. Notice
you didn’t say the ‘good old days.’”
“Not for me
they weren’t. In that whole town, there was only one guy I thought could
understand me. What I was going through. That was you. But instead of
understanding, you were the biggest bully in school.”
“I know that
now. Used you to slay my dragons, although I didn’t even know there were
dragons at that point. Slow developer, I guess. At any rate, I apologized in my
email, and do so again in person. Sorry, Gus.”
“Not Bug?”
“No. You’re Gus
from now on.”
“Oh, I have
been for years. I left ‘Bug’ behind when I left that little town.”
“So where
are you?”
“Here.”
“Here? You
mean in Dallas?”
“Yep. Not
half a mile away.”
“Great! Visiting
or permanent?”
“Permanent.”
“Wonderful. I’d
like to see how little Bug morphed into Gus.”
“Oh, you
can. Just open your text. I sent you some photos. I’ll call you back after you’ve
had a chance to look at them.”
“Wait! I can….”
But he was
gone. So I opened the text and drew a sharp breath.
The first
photo was a bust of a shirtless, buffed, curly haired young man who was not
only downright handsome, but sexy, as well. You know what I’m talking about.
Some handsome guys look too perfect to even think about earthy things. This guy
not only made you think about them, but lust to accomplish them.
The second
photo made me gasp aloud. Full frontal nude of the same guy, only without his
head showing. I understood. Didn’t want to be subject to blackmail, but that
mole was there, silently testifying this was Bug… Gus. And he wasn’t just
buffed. He was tennis court buffed, distance runner buffed. And equipment that
would make any man proud.
The third
photo took the wind out of my sales. Gus and an equally attractive young man
stared at me through the camera lenses, both naked, arms thrown over one
another’s shoulders. The look of intimacy was obvious. This was his boyfriend.
His date the other night that left him drained.
The phone
rang before I’d recovered from the last snap. My answer wasn’t as breathy.
“What do you
think?”
“I think a
bug morphed into a butterfly,” I said. “You’re one hell of a good-looking guy,
Gus.”
“And I could
have been yours.”
My breath
caught in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“I would
have done anything for you, Mars… back in the day. Anything you wanted. Top,
bottom, anything in between. I hung in there to the bitter end, putting up with
your bullying, your cruelty, hoping you’d look inside and see the real me.”
“Bug… Gus, I—”
“Too late,
bro. Doesn’t matter if you’re a semi-famous author some of the world admires. I
know who you really are. So go to bed tonight knowing I’m within walking
distance, naked and in bed with a hunky, wonderful guy who wouldn’t bully a
soul. By the way, I’m changing my phone number, and as far as the email
address, it was created just for you. A little lesson you should have learned back
when we were younger. If you see one who’s willing, you better fuck him while
you can… but in the right way.
*.*.*.*.
Guess I was
wrong. It’s not “Poor Mars.” It’s Mars, the bastard. But you know, the
subconscious is a powerful thing. As I writer, I have to wonder how often Bug
showed up in his novels in some form or the other. Lots, would be my guess
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email:
markwildyr@aol.com
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Twitter: @markwildyr
Now my
mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.
You have something to say, so say it!
See you later.
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