Thursday, April 18, 2024

Cap’n, Cap’n (Part 2 of 2 Parts), Post #263

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Today, we conclude the story of Ahab James Chaplain… or Captain, or more commonly Cap’n to his peers.

 He doesn’t like his name, but from the first installment we know that’s not the worst of his problems. He likes his neighbor but succumbs to another former schoolmate. He enjoyed the encounter but wonders why he’s so blue.

* * * *


The next week, our own school break began, and Josh took me by surprise by inviting me to go to the lake with him. Of course, going to the lake had only one connotation to me. The one associated with Hal. That forced me to admit what I’d been denying for a long time. Man, would I like to get together with him. I mean, really get together. He was the sexiest person I’d ever known, but I’d considered him unapproachable. What does the team quarterback need with a dweeb. Well, maybe not a dweeb. I do play soccer and tennis and a little golf. But you know what I mean. He goes out with babes… and from talk around school, he got a few of them too.

“Too late for ice fishing and too early for reel fishing,” I said, having no idea if that was correct or not.”

“Don’t much care if I catch any or not. Just want to get away from everything and everyone for a while. Thought you might like to tag along. I’m gonna pitch a tent and stay for a couple of nights.”

My insides did-flip-flops. Anticipation or dread? I didn’t know. Nonetheless, I said the words. “Sure, why not.”

Monday morning, I tossed my backpack in the trunk of Josh’s Duster, and we headed for the lake twenty-five miles up in the hills. Wasn’t like with Hal, Josh didn’t say much of anything, but it was easy to see he was already enjoying getting out of town. That prompted me to relax a little—lay aside the anxiety over what might or might not happen. I knew one thing for sure. The whole school knew we were going camping for a couple of days. And I wasn’t exactly the natural camping companion for a popular guy like Josh. That would prompt a few questions when we got back. To hell with it. Relax and enjoy the lake. Deal with the other later.

Like Hal, he wanted a secluded place for our campsite, but we worked well together. I’d pitched a few tents on trips with my father and older brother, so I carried my weight. When camp was ready, we strolled down to the lake with old-fashioned fishing poles, and to my surprise, caught enough for our dinner. Josh gutted and cleaned, I cooked.

After a surprisingly tasty dinner of fried fish, biscuits, and beans, we sat around the campfire in the gathering gloom, still not talking much but amazingly comfortable. As the night progressed, he did start to unwind and talk a little about school and coming college and what life might hold in the future. He wanted to be an Air Force fighter pilot. I was still bouncing around between archaeologist and lawyer. The lawyer thing was probably hanging in there because that’s what my dad was.

Sometime late that night, we doused the fire, stripped to our underwear, and got into our sleeping bags. Then everything was quiet and peaceful—well, not completely. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the forest has a sound all it’s own at night. The lake wasn’t big, but sizeable enough so that the water lapped at the shore. A noisy loon to the west kept calling to another to the north. Peaceful.

Except my insides were raging. Here I was lying half-naked beside the hunkiest guy in town, and my roiling stomach wouldn’t let me forget it. I knew he wasn’t asleep. He moved around in his sack a little too much. That brought on another rush of adrenaline. Was he…? Naw, wasn’t that kind of moving around.

I must have lain there for a quarter of an hour before he spoke.

“You asleep?”

“Uh-uh, enjoying the silence too much.”

He gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, makes you miss all the noise in town.”

“Not much.”

Cap’n… uh, Jimbo. I been wanting to talk to you.”

“I live right next door. Available anytime.”

“Yeah, but the time never seemed right.”

“Now it does?” I asked.

“Yeah, sorta. But I’m having trouble getting started.”

“Spit it out.”

So he did. “You ever think about sex?”

“Only about seventy-five percent of the time”

“Not asking you to tell tales out of school, but do you score?”

I thought of Hal. “Not very often. You?”

Silence… then, “Not as much as I should.”

That caught my interest. “What do you mean?”

Silence again. Longer this time. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure. Better’n most I know.”

“I… I…. Oh, crap, I have trouble getting interested with somebody I know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, God, I hope you mean it when you say you don’t rat. Truth is, I’ve only got one girl… here at home that is. But when I go on football trips, I get more’n I can handle.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I dunno. Thought maybe you’d know.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Of everyone in town, you keep the kids guessing about your sex life.”

“What you’re saying is you want to know if I’m gay.”

“No, that’s not what I’m asking.” Silence. “Well, maybe.”

“Okay, then I’m not. Well, maybe I am.”

“Which is it?”

“I don’t really know. I… well, I got it on with someone last year. A guy.”

“Yeah, Hal Barton.”

That gave me a start. “He told everybody?”

“Just about.”

“Aw, crap!” I dry-washed my face. “He’s the one who started it.”

“Yeah, he would be. When it comes to sex, he’s a sleazebag. Otherwise, he’s a decent guy.”

As I lay in humiliation, another silence grew. Finally.

“But that’s why I thought you might explain my problem.”

“You hankering for a guy?” I blurted, halfway hopeful, halfway dreadful.

“No. Well… maybe. You see, I don’t seem to have any parameters. If I see a person and find them attractive, doesn’t seem to matter whether they’re a guy or a gal.”

“You saying you’re bi-sexual?”

“Maybe. But it seems different to me. I dunno how to say it, except I don’t have a type. It might be a sexy girl, a he-man guy, a fem guy, a butch girl. It’s just something that clicks in my brain—” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “—or more to the point in my gonads.”

“Have you ever heard of polysexual?”

“Yeah, and omni and poly and all the rest. But I don’t understand them.”

I snickered. “I don’t either. I just know I like Betsy and would like to get into her pants. And,” I added hesitantly, “I really dug what Hal and I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I did him, he did me,” I said, hoping that would be enough.


Okay, I blew him and he blew me.”

“Did you ever do the other?”

“Uh-uh. Why, you interested?”

He gave a sigh that kinda got me down in the guts. “Maybe, but that’s the rest of my problem.”

“Which is?”

“I might be interested in somebody, but if I know them, then the will isn’t there. With a stranger, it’s okay. Guy or gal, it’s okay. I’m one sick dude.”

“Naw. You’re you with your own wants and don’ts.”

“Does my confession make you look at me differently,” he asked.

“Differently… yeah. Down on you… nah. But you know, somehow I think your problem might be better than mine. I’ve been wanting to get with you for years, but didn’t know how. You know, afraid of losing a friend. You don’t have to worry about that because you only go after strangers. If they’re not interested, no big deal.”

“Doesn’t seem that simple to me.”

I thought for a minute. “You… you wanna try it? No matter how it comes out, nobody has to know.”

“You’d know.” A long, long silence grew, and then, “Okay, I’ll try. No promises, but I’ll try.”

And try he did. He’d get about halfway erect, and then he’d deflate. Me, I about ripped my shorts with the monster I sported.

“You really dig it,” he said, acknowledging that fact.

“With you, I do,” I panted.

At long last, he flopped on his back. “Sorry, just can’t do it.”

“Hell, you can’t” I muttered and came up on him. “Just think of me as a stranger you came up on at the lake and seduced into your tent.”

With that, I went to work. One hand worked at his sac and his butt, the other wandered his really fine chest, while my mouth went to work.

And that did the job. Boy, did that do the job. I’m not sure we got more than an hour’s sleep that night. Every time one of us got it off, the other was ready again. Talk about eighteen-year-old stamina!



Apparently science is coming around to the view many Native American tribes have held for years. There are many genders out there. Cap’n and Josh are working hard to identify theirs.

 My new anthology, Huntinghawk,was released in February as an Ebook by JMS Books with the print version to follow soon. Hope you’ll give it a read.

 My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:

Website and blog:



X: @markwildyr

 Now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it! (Don Travis keeps reminding me I stole it from him, but he didn’t copyright it. His bad.)

 See you later.



 New posts first and third Thursday of the month at 6:00 a.m., US Mountain time.

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