markwildyr.com, Post #127
Here we go.
* * * * *
INTERREGNUM, A Curt Huntinghawk Story, Part 1
Curt Huntinghawk woke to
find Grover Whitedeer studying him across the pillow in the breaking dawn. Hawk
greeted his best friend and lover, stretching lazily and stroking Grove’s bare
chest fondly.
“I don’t wanna go, Hawk,”
Grove said. “Tell me not to, and I won’t.”
“If you don’t, you might
never see your mom again. I won’t be responsible for that.”
“I wouldn’t feel any more
shitty about that than leaving you,” Grove observed, laying a hand on Hawk’s
muscled shoulder before heaving himself out of bed. “It’s not like my family’s
all that close. Yeah, I know, she’s my mom.”
Hawk shaved a three-day
growth of almost non-existent stubble while Grove pissed and brushed his teeth.
After that, they met in the shower. Today would be their last opportunity to
make love for some time. Once Grove was on a plane headed east, neither knew
when he’d return. He’d given up his apartment and took an indefinite leave of absence
from the Rezagados Colorados yesterday after his
brother’s call about his mother’s cancer. No one knew exactly what the future
held or when it would arrive.
Grove leaned on his hands
against the front of the shower while Hawk lathered his body. They paused to kiss
before exchanging places. Once they were squeaky clean, they entwined
themselves to deposit semen on one another’s bellies, Grove drew a ragged
breath and whispered in Hawk’s ear.
“I know you, Curt
Huntinghawk. Just like you know me. I-I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and—”
“Hush, Grove. I’ll wait
for you.”
“No you won’t. And I can’t
promise anything in return. We’re both sexual animals. And once we discovered
one another, the ladies don’t do it for us… at least not as a steady diet.”
He hugged Hawk closer. “So
it’s okay. You can find somebody, just don’t forget me.”
Hawk stroked the back of
his lover’s neck. “Never! And I’ll—”
“No you won’t. Not if I’m
gone for long.”
“Okay, deal. For both of
us. It’s okay to get with someone. But it won’t mean anything. Just a holding
pattern for when you’re back. Same goes for you. Okay?”
“Deal. But—” Grove’s
hands fondled Hawk’s buttocks. “—not there. That belongs to me.”
“You got it.”
“Damn, Hawk,” Grove
whispered distractedly, “you’re so much man, how did we ever get together?”
“Slowly and carefully,”
Hawk said with a smile, recalling the long, painful process.
Hawk suffered on his
lonely trip back home. He ran a gamut of emotions, surprised to discover that
anger was among them. He was angry at fate for imposing this obligation, with
Grove because he was flying away in a big silver bird, with himself because he
should have insisted they wait for one another instead of agreeing each was
free to find relief with someone else.
The next day when he
reported to work, Amadeo Tomé, his boss at the Red Rezes, assigned him a new
partner.
“Hawk, be reasonable,”
the man argued when Hawk bucked. “I shoulda broke you and Grove up a long time
ago. You’re two of the best I’ve got, and you oughta train the new men. Besides,
you know I don’t like my men to work alone.”
“All right, but only till
Grove comes back. We’ve got the best interdiction record in the outfit, and you
don’t want to fuck with that.”
“We’ll see,” Amadeo
hedged.
“Bullshit. Either Grove’s
my partner, or I’ll find something else!”
Hawk—with a youngster in
tow—left for the desert country south of them wondering if he’d revealed too
much to Amadeo. The man was no fool, but loyalties ran deep among the men,
especially long-time partners. He suddenly smiled, realizing that he didn’t
really give a damn. Let him think whatever he wanted. The revelation was
liberating.
“Come on, kid. You drive;
I’ll keep an eye out,” he said to Robert Tanara, tossing him the keys to the
four-by-four.
They cut three different
sets of tracks and followed each on foot until they were certain of what they
had, two small groups of illegal aliens and a team of drug mules. They reported
the wanna-be-immigrants to INS by radio and set out cross-country at a steady
trot after the mules.
Robert Tanara was from a
neighborhood tribe but was taller and more slender than the locals due to
outside blood, probably. He looked impossibly young even though Hawk knew he
was twenty-one. Robert had been with the Rezagados about three months
and followed a pretty faint trail, meaning he had a good eye for sign on rocky
ground. Hawk thought of him as a kid, a boy, but Robert was a man. They caught
the two drug runners as they neared civilization in the middle of the hot
afternoon.
The smugglers tried to
run, but the desert had taken its toll. The traficantes didn’t have the
stamina to make it back to the truck, so Hawk used his hand-held to radio for
help. Amadeo was pleased with the ten pounds of pure cocaine and hundred pounds
of weed they recovered.
By the time they started
back for headquarters, Hawk knew he had a devoted admirer in his new partner. Later
as he left Amadeo’s office at headquarters, Hawk overheard the snatch end of a
whispered conversation. Robert was singing his praises. Hawk said goodnight and
headed home.
Grove called a week later.
His mom had stabilized, but he was going to hang around until something
happened, and nobody could tell him when that would be. Bitter disappointment
ringed Hawk’s heart when Grove said he had a lead on a job. That meant Grove
expected to be there awhile.
As soon as he hung up,
Hawk headed for the Blue Mesa Bar and downed four beers without doing much
breathing between bottles. Mindful that he had been at the edge of becoming an
alcoholic when he was a teenager, Hawk started to nurse his bottle instead of
draining it. He became a little more sociable, trading small talk with Sheila,
the Pueblo girl he used to go to bed with fairly regularly. He ended up at a
back table with a few of the Red Rezes, including his new partner, Robert
Tanara. Before the evening was out, Hawk knew with absolute certainty that
Robert would come home with him and do anything he asked. Not that the boy was
queer, but he was into some heavy hero-worship that made Hawk uneasy enough to
leave early. When the door opened behind him as he was crossing the parking
lot, he knew without looking that Robert had followed.
“Hey, partner!” the young
man called. “Wait up.”
Hawk turned, dismayed
that the boy looked so handsome in the faint outdoor lighting. “Yeah?”
“It’s early,” Robert said
uncertainly. “Thought you might want to grab a six-pack.” The young man laughed
nervously. “Guess I’m still wired from this afternoon. It was my first
interdiction,” he admitted ruefully.
Hawk eased up. “That can
get the blood flowing, but there’ll be more.”
“Yeah, for sure with you
as my partner.”
“Look, kid. I’m no
different from any of the guys with some time under their belts. I joined the
Rezes when I was your age. I can track and have some endurance. That’s all. No
more; no less.”
“Yeah,” Robert said. “I
understand. Sorry, I bothered you.”
Hawk relented. “I could
use another beer. Meet me at the back wall.”
“You bet!” the youth
said, suddenly beaming.
* * * * *
Well,
well, it didn’t take long for temptation to rear its head. What was it, a week?
Next week, let’s see what happens.
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email: markwildyr@aol.com
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Twitter: @markwildyr
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