markwildyr.com,
Post #118
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| Courtesy of PickPik |
Received
some comments from readers on “Secluded Sand.” Apparently it struck a chord
with some people. Appreciate the kind comments.
I was
tempted to give in to some requests and return to Hawk, but instead decided to
do a short piece I called “Babe.” (Titles can’t be copyrighted or else I might
be in trouble.) At any rate, I hope you enjoy the two-part story.
Here we
go.
*****
BABE
“Hey, Babe, what’er you doing?”
You can always count on Hal
Weymeister to call me Babe. Not Richard, not Dick, not Dickie, not Rick, not
Richie, but Babe. It started in the tenth grade because I was slow developing
and still had the rosy cheeks and cherry lips like the girls did back then. And
now, three years later, he’s still at it.
But I’m not a girl, I’m a guy.
I might be gay—although he didn’t know it—but I’m not swishy gay. I’m regular
gay. Whatever that is. Heck, I played sports and held my own, especially in
soccer. Hal and I were on the team here at Sandia U, and I was as good as he was.
Maybe even better.
Nonetheless, I’m always Babe.
I got in a tussle with him a couple of years ago, but it didn’t matter. He kept
it up, even with a fat lip. Regardless of what I tried, he wouldn’t quit.
In fact, I guess he trained me
pretty well, because when I heard those words, I halted in front of him. He and
our goalie, a kid named Gordon Loesser—but universally hailed as Gordie—were
sitting in the stands at the empty soccer field. Gordie intrigued me because
he’d traveled all the way from some place in Virginia to go to college in New
Mexico. Why? I couldn’t even dream up an answer. Even though we were on the
same team, I kinda kept my distance because he was so handsome and hunky I was
afraid I’d give myself away.
What struck me when I turned
toward them was the look on Gordie’s face as he studied Hal. He shook his head
before speaking. What are you Weymeister, gay?”
Hal looked like he’d been
whacked across the head with a two-by-four. “What? No! Why’d you ask me
that?”
Gordie looked at him sideways.
“You called him Babe. Called another man Babe. Don’t think a straight guy would
do that?”
Hal did some stuttering and
sputtering before he managed to get out a rational answer. “Started calling him
that back in our sophomore year because he looked more like a gal than a guy.
You know, like a babe.”
Gordie cocked an eyebrow and
gave me the once over. “Looks like a guy to me. Good shoulders.” He flicked a
hand at my deck pants. “Hair on his legs. Yeah, he’s a guy.”
Hal blinked a couple of times
like a dude who’s in the wrong place at the wrong time. “He’s done some
changing in the last coupla years. Anyway, I gotta go hit the library. Candy
and I are supposed to study this afternoon.” He got up and dusted off the seat
of his pants. “Catch you guys later.”
Gordie inclined his head and
glanced at Hal’s retreating back. “You think he had a date with Candy, or was
he feeling the need to mention a girlfriend because of what I said?”
I laughed. “Could be either
one. But I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”
“Me too. But that oughta do the
job.”
“What job?” I asked.
“Make him cut out that ‘Babe’
crap.”
I met his gray-eyed stare. Man,
he was really dishy when you took a good gander at him. “How did you know it
bothers me?”
“Could see it in your face
every time he said it. You’re not hard to read, Stinson. Or do you prefer
Richard or….”
“Most people call me Rick.”
“Rick it is.” He nodded toward
the soccer field. “You handle the ball pretty good out there. Good instincts
too.”
“Thanks. You’re the best
goalie I’ve ever played with.”
“Aha, a mutual admiration
society. So what have you got on this afternoon, Rick?”
“Nothing. I got my studying
done. Just have to figure out what to do with the rest of the weekend.”
“I’m gonna drive over to the
lake. You wanna go?”
“The lake’s two hours away.
You staying the night?”
“Naw. I’ll just go over, soak
up the atmosphere for a couple of hours and boogey on back.”
“Well, sure. If you don’t
mind.”
“Welcome the company.”
As I followed him to his ’98
Ford Explorer, I couldn’t help but notice his shoulders. Wow. Made mine look
puny. Trim waist, nice hips. To keep from having a reaction to his graceful
swagger, I put on some speed and caught up with him. “Do I need to bring
anything? You know, like water or snacks?”
“I’m not much into snacks.
They have fountains at the lake. Just enough money for a burger and fries on
the way back.”
“Okay, I’m good.”
“Figured you would be.”
I stumbled over that comment.
He turned to me and smiled.
That’s the moment my mind stopped dilly-dallying and admitted I wanted him. “What
I meant was,” he said, “you’re usually pretty cool and collected.”
“Oh. Uh, thanks.”
The drive to the lake was
nothing to talk about. I mean, it was okay, but we didn’t yak much. Just enough
to find out his father was a doctor and his mother worked in some governmental
agency in Washington. Oh, and that the place he came from in Virginia was
Alexandria.
He learned my father was a
rancher, that I grew up on a spread outside Deming.
“How do you know Heymeister
then?”
“Went to a consolidated high
school. Met him there.”
“Aw, forget him. We’re out for
a nice afternoon.”
I settled more comfortably in
the seat. “That we are.”
My heart went crazy as I
imagined what I’d consider a nice afternoon. Then it slowed as I considered
what he likely thought was a nice one. They weren’t compatible. Not at all.
*****
Young
soccer players, locker rooms, a lake. What could possibly lie ahead? Check back
on the first Thursday in June to find out. June? Good lord, the yearis moving
on despite being sheltered at home.
Tell your
friends to order a copy of Cut Hand and
Johnny Two-Guns from Dreamspinner Press. I’d like to
convince them to publish the rest of the Cut Hand Series, including the
unpublished manuscript Wastelakapi…
Beloved, It’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact
information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email: markwildyr@aol.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr
Twitter: @markwildyr
The
following are buy links for CUT HAND:
And now my mantra: Keep
on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on the first and
third Thursday of each month.
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