Thursday, May 2, 2024, Post #264

 Weldon’s Big Mistake (Part 1 of 3 Parts)

 Image Courtesy of Clkr:


Hope you liked the little ditty about our own Cap’n Ahab. Flights of fancy take us in all directions, don’t they?

 This week, we’ll start another. Hope you enjoy it.

* * * *



I’ve known my best bud in all the world ever since I can remember because we grew up together in this Northern New Mexico town with the unlikely name of Blinkton. All its inhabitants are known far and wide as Blinkies. But Jaime Jiron and I didn’t really bond as friends until sixth grade when I backed him up as two of the school’s biggest bullies ganged up on him on the schoolyard.

That takes some explaining too. Best I can figure, Northern New Mexico is different from the rest of the state. The Hispanic families that settled here are closer to their Spanish roots than most of the rest of the Latin families. Doesn’t make any sense because they’re farther removed than everyone south of us. But, of course, people south of there are Mexicans, not Spaniards. The distinction was meaningless to me, but apparently carried weight with them.

That’s one side of the coin. The other is that some of the Anglos in the area seemed to be bigger bigots than usual. Anglos… that’s how we describe families descended from European nations other than Spain. From what I hear, the two populations pretty well kept apart from one another socially until sometime in the twentieth century. I wasn’t around then, so I can’t vouch for it, but that’s my understanding.

I’d seen Jaimie around all the time before that fateful day, but we hadn’t exchanged anything other than howdys and holas. Even so, I’d admired him for as long as I could remember. Admired his shiny, black hair, flamenco-dancer physique, flawless bronze skin, and oh, so many other things I could list. But for some reason, I’d honored that cultural divide—or whatever it was—even though we went to the same school, often sitting in the same class. Didn’t have anything against him, we just lived in two different worlds.

But after I took his side that day—and a whopping, I might add—we’ve been as close as brothers. And that’s the way I thought of us… brothers. Until last week when I hit eighteen. I hit eighteen and eighteen hit me back… hard.

My world turned upside down when Jaime started dating Maria Saiz. We’d double-dated lots of times, but this was different. He wanted to be alone with her. Alone with her meant there was no room for Weldon Brown… that’s me, by the way. And something whopped me so hard right between the eyes I had to sit down for some introspection. Because that sure as shooting felt like jealousy. And after I cogitated on it, that’s exactly what it was. I was jealous of Maria. How can that be?

That led to a lot more thinking, and the answer I came up with didn’t do anything to make me feel any better. I wanted Jaime all to myself. Why? We were friends, buds, pals… but that wasn’t the answer. I wanted him. For myself. Alone.

That brought me face to face with the yearning deep down inside me I’d been ignoring. When I said I wanted him, that’s exactly what I meant. I wanted his mind, his body, his… love. A different kind of love than the deep bond we already shared.

When the truth struck, I muttered aloud. “My God, I’m queer for him!”

I glanced around to see if anyone had heard, but I was alone in my own bedroom. Thank goodness, because I’d sprouted the biggest erection I’d ever had in my life. So I took care of it, and sure enough, the image of Jaime Jiron never left my head all the way through. As I was spouting my seed, my left hand was making a motion like I had him in hand trying to bring him to the beautiful place I was.

But after the last throes of ejaculation faded, I went blue. Jaime wasn’t here with me. I hadn’t touched his fascinating flesh. We hadn’t shared a delicious orgasm. He was off somewhere with Maria, and I was here alone. Had they gone all the way? Had he shot his seed into her?

My world turned sideways.


I must not have been myself the next day, because Jaime kept shooting me sideways looks, and once even asked what was wrong.

“Nothing,” I answered.

We finished baseball practice, and tarried in the town’s little park on the way home. He dropped onto a bench while I settled across from him. God, he was handsome! My glance took in his rangy form, and I imagined the fullness of his groin hidden from my sight by the concrete table.  I suddenly wanted—needed—to see it, so I dropped my glove on the ground and bent to retrieve it. Yep, full and inviting.

I came up and flopped my glove on the picnic table a little harder than intended. His chocolate mousse eyes searched my face. “What’s up, bro?”

“Nothing.” Did I sound short?

“Don’t try to snow me, man. Something’s bothering you. It’s been hanging all over your face all day.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it. Tell me, how was your date with Maria last night?”

He grinned, almost stopping my heart. “Great. Went to the lake after the movie.”

“What for?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you think?”

“You make a home run?”

His grin died… then returned. “More like third base.”

My heart soared and then dropped to the ground. Did third base mean she made him come? How? Every way but the way it counted, probably.

“See! There it is again. What you want’s hanging all over your face. Spit it out, man.”

Did I dare? I looked at that handsome, sexy face and was tempted.

“Weldon, when were we not able to talk to one another?”

Weldon. He always called me Well… unless it was something serious.

“Come on, bro, this is me. You can tell me anything you like.”

I swallowed hard and went light-headed. “I… I want you, Jaime. Want you like you want Maria. I want you to want me instead of her.”

His mouth dropped and then snapped shut. “Crap, man, I thought you were gonna tell me you wanted to go to Albuquerque for a Isotopes game or something. Not something like that.”

“I-I’m sorry. Shoulda—”

“I pushed you into it. But that’s not gonna fly, man. Sorry.”

He got up and walked away. I sat as I was and despite my misery, couldn’t help but notice his manly stride. His grace. His….

Shit, Weldon, you fucked up.


As we all know from experience, that’s a good way to lose a friend. I wonder if Weldon will be able to repair his relationship with Jaime? Hope so. We’ll see next week.

 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.

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Website and blog:



X: @markwildyr

 Now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it! 

 See you later.



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

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