Markwildyr.com, Post #216
Image Courtesy of freepik.com:
The story this week is one of the very few I’ve ever written from the omniscient viewpoint. In fact, I don’t ever recall doing one before and likely won’t ever do one again. For those who are not immersed in writer things, the omniscient view is just what it sounds like. The reader is aware of the thoughts, actions, and feelings of each character in the scene… simultaneously. As if the reader were… well, omniscient.
My favorite viewpoint is
the first person, wherein the pronouns are I and me. Occasionally, I’ll write
in the third person (pronouns he, him). In both of these, the reader should
know only what the viewpoint person can see, hear, or intuit.
Why did I choose this unfamiliar (and unloved, at least on my part) viewpoint? Felt like it, that’s all. So here goes.
JOSIAH UTTERBALM,
ESQUIRE
If one were to engage Josiah Utterbalm in conversation of any decent length, the phrase “men should be men, and women should be women” would likely be expressed one or more times. In fact, Josiah seemed to base his philosophy of life on that adage.
Josiah was a
presentable man—some said comely—of around thirty or so years. An accountant,
he was considered quite a catch—although an elusive one as he remained
unmarried. He had, in fact. courted the reputation as a ladies’ man. And in his
case, the plural form was correct. Most of the available unmarried women in his
social set were quite happy to be seen in his company. According to some, the
term “Esquire” was a form of disparagement awarded by a rival on a long-ago
football field. Legend does not clarify whether it was uttered by foe or teammate.
Although beyond
the age of sandlot baseball games and the such, he was quite often seen in his
upscale neighborhood jogging shirtless in Speedo shorts, his torso lightly
muscled, his buns tight, and his calves shapely. It didn’t take much
imagination to see why stay-at-home wives peeked from behind lace curtains as
he passed.
Strangely, gossip
about his amorous exploits was sparing. The ladies exchanged stories about him,
but there were few tales of scandalous consummations. Oh, there were plenty of whispers
about passionate kisses—even some of the “French” type—and fevered pawing of
the bosoms, but few descriptions of beddings.
Acquaintances of
the masculine type abounded, but few seemed to be of a particularly close
nature. Few seemed to be buddies—in terms of the times—and those who were tended
to revolve, one mate growing close for a brief time, soon to be replaced by
another… and so on. Although seemingly well-known in his circles, few fit the
description of “boon companions.” Even so, be it on the tennis courts, the golf
course, or the gym, everyone knew of his derision for deviants… ergo, his
proclamation of “Men should be men, and….” Well, you know the rest.
One day, a
stranger showed up in the gym, and Josiah, being of a curious and competitive
nature, introduced himself.
“Josiah
Utterbalm,” he said solemnly, extending a hand, quickly scanning the stranger
as he did so. Younger than he was. Probably around twenty-five. Good muscles
beneath his tight sweats. One of those men who was handsome-ugly, as Josiah
described them. Meaning, of course, that their features were arranged differently,
but the result was pleasing. In his experience, such men were attractive to
women. “You new around here?”
“Tolliver Mann.
Naw. New to the gym, but been in town for a year or so. How about you, Joe?”
“Josiah,” he
corrected. “Most of my life.”
Josiah took the
machine next to Tolliver, and the two watched one another surreptitiously as
they worked weights. Each time one added pounds, the other did, as well.
Showoff,
Josiah thought, although he said something different. “You handle that machine well.”
Supercilious
jerk, Tolliver decided. “So do you.”
Despite that uncertain
beginning, the two men grew toward one another, and before long, they were
meeting on the handball court, for coffee, and, occasionally, for dinner. Tolliver
amended his initial assessment of his new friend from supercilious jerk to
simply supercilious. Josiah redefined his as demonstrative.
Things came to a
crisis one day as they played driveway basketball at Josiah’s house. In a frenetic
moment, they crashed into one another. To keep his balance, Josiah locked his
arms around his friend and immediately experienced strange, unfamiliar thoughts
racing through his mind. Shaken to his core, he found himself reluctant to let
go. In the long moment they froze in one another’s arms, the older man felt his
world tilt.
After they stepped
apart, Josiah’s outrageous thoughts refused to go away. Nice. Felt good and
safe in his embrace.
Tolliver’s
reaction was quite different. Ugh, I got his sweat all over me.
The game went
on, but at a more careful pace until it became desultory. Tolliver ended it,
declaring he’d had enough. As they toweled excess sweat from their bodies, Josiah
licked his lips uncertainly before speaking.
“You know,
Tolliver, when we collided back there, I… I… well, I found it not at all
unpleasing.”
I knew it! “What
do you mean?” Tolliver played dumb.
“I’m not
certain.” After struggling with himself for a second, Josiah blurted. “Dammit,
man, have you ever considered—”
Toliver held up
a hand, stopping him cold. “You know, Josiah, it’s always been my philosophy
that a man should be a man and a woman should be a woman.
Before the
afternoon was out, Tolliver was scrubbed from Josiah’s list of companions.
Tolliver, for his part, couldn’t have been happier.
I take two
things from this story: A man—make that a person—can life a lifetime and
find himself in a situation where he is willing to try something that was
unthinkable before that moment and that particular situation arose. And it
doesn’t always work out.
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.
Mark
New posts the first and third Thursday of the month at
6:00 a.m., US Mountain time.
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