This
story
concerns adult and teenage gay
males who may be involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for
you to
read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please
leave
now.
This
story is
copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.
This
is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
This is my
third submission to Nifty. My
previous submissions can be found in the High School section under
Kiel’s Story. Any comments or questions are
welcome at: carl_holiday@att.net.
A warm
thank you goes out to all who
write. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff,
whether you
like it or not. I try to answer all emails, even flames. (I’m a writer,
I live
for rejection.) Although sometimes it takes a little time to get back
to
you, I do
try to answer. If I'm remiss in replying to yours, I apologize.
The Pastel Cowboy
by Carl Holiday
Chapter
19 – Happy Birthday?
There weren’t a lot
of kids
at the birthday party. Paul decided early in the planning to turn
Zach’s old
bedroom into the children’s room where they could watch DVDs, play
video games,
or whatever it was children do when not welcome with adults. The kids
at the
birthday party weren’t unwelcome, though, but Paul figured they needed
a refuge
from adult activity and the bedroom was the logical choice as it was
furthest
from the dining and living rooms, and had a lot of more space than the
extra room
by the kitchen that in a stick built home in the suburbs might be
called the
family room.
David was
immediately sucked
into a swarm of friends, allowing Zach to sneak away to find something
to eat
in the kitchen. Sally was in there talking to the caterer. Their eyes
met for a
second. Zach turned away and headed for the refrigerator. He opened,
but found
out the caterer had commandeered most of it for her use. He had better
luck
when he tried the freezer.
“Can I help you,
young man?”
the caterer asked. The voice was slightly condescending as someone with
a
little authority might speak to an underling who was straying beyond
the
appointed path.
“No, thank you, I
think I
found something to my liking,” Zach said as he pulled out a frozen
entrée to be
zapped in the microwave.
“I’d like you to
leave,” the
caterer said.
“Wait, Zach? You
are Zach,
right?” Sally asked.
“Yeah, I’m Zach and
you’re
Sally, my cousin,” Zach said. Her pallid skin reminded him of a
vegetarian he
once met. Her blond hair was cut in a pageboy, but was so light errant
strands
seemed bent on forming a different style. “You haven’t changed that
much since
the last picture I saw of you. Am I in the way, or something?”
“No, I didn’t know
you were
family,” the caterer said. “Would you like me to make you a sandwich?”
“Sure, I thought we
were just
having finger food,” Zach said. A sandwich might be good, he thought.
“Yes, but, I made a
few
allowances for children and teenagers.”
“Zach, can I talk
to you?”
Sally asked. She had that serious look people get when they’ve got bad
news to
tell or they think you have bad news to tell them. The eyes dart away
when you
try to establish contact. The corner of the mouth twitches slightly as
if
they’re trying to smile, but can’t quite get the muscles coordinated.
“How’s my
father?”
“Not good,” Zach
said. He
pulled a root beer out of the refrigerator and sat down at the table
next to an
empty spot the caterer had yet to use. “But, something’s up. He’s
thinking of
something and I don’t know what it is. He hugged me before we came in
and told
me everything was going to be okay. You don’t think he’d try to do
something
stupid again?”
“The one thing I
know about
my father is that once he sets his mind on something, he will do it no
matter
what. But, enough of him, how’re you doing?”
“I don’t know,
think of your
most embarrassing moment in life and then compound it ten thousand
times. That
might come close to what’s going on in my life right now.”
“I hear you had a
little
problem down in Texas,” Sally said. The caterer set the sandwich
in front
of him while Sally pulled up another chair. She was close, almost too
close.
“Not so bad if you
don’t mind
looking Death in the face,” Zach said. He felt a chill run through his
gut and
looked up at the doorway to the dining room half expecting to see Conan
hightailing it for the door, but all he saw was Paul talking to a young
man who
looked incredibly cute. Then he thought of Jeremy and wondered if
anyone was
going to remember his birthday. He’d certainly left enough hints around.
“Are you okay?”
Sally asked.
Her hand was on Zach knee. It could’ve been there simply as a familial
gesture,
but she was a woman and he wasn’t all that certain first cousins were
allowed
to touch each other like that.
“No,” Zach mumbled
through
the bite of sandwich he was chewing.
“Anything I can do
to help?”
Sally asked. She’d taken her hand away, but she was still too close to
offer
any comfort.
“No, I don’t think
you can,”
Zach said. Her warm hand was on his shoulder.
“Come on, Zach, do
girls make
you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Didn’t you have a
girlfriend
at home?”
“Yeah,” Zach said
as Amy’s
tits flashed across his memory only to be quickly replace by Sara’s. He
wanted
to shrug away from the hand that was softly massaging his shoulder, but
he
didn’t and he didn’t know why.
“Well, I’m safe and
I’m
taken,” Sally said. “Go on, finish your sandwich. If you want to talk,
I’ll be
around.”
She got up and left
Zach to
wonder what that was all about. Had Paul, or heaven forbid David, tell
her he
was a gay teen gone wrong? Did Paul tell her he had a cute ass and
tried to
shove it in the face of every guy who walked by? Did David tell her he
was a
slut who nearly got killed when he went looking for a mouthful of cum,
but only
found the boot of a crazy, homophobic Texan?
“Are you going to
come and
help with the kids?” a voice behind him asked. It sounded sort of like
Willy,
but a little bit higher. “Where’d you get that sandwich? All we got was
hors
d’oeuvres.”
“She made it for
me,” Zach
said as he pointed the sandwich at the caterer.
“Well, come to your
bedroom
when you’re done,” the voice said.
“Wait a sec’,
you’re not
Willy,” Zach said. He turned to look the face as if that might help,
but it was
still Bruce’s face looking back at him.
“Who?”
“Willy, the boy I
brought
here. I thought he was going to watch the kids.”
“Come on, Zach,
what kind of
game are you playing?”
“I don’t know, you
guys keep
changing the rules,” Zach said. He put down the remnants of the
sandwich and
got up. The caterer looked at them, but Zach ignored her. “Okay, let’s
go do
it, uh, what did you say your name was?”
“Patty.”
She seemed a
natural at
taking care of the younger children leaving Zach responsible for a ten
year old
girl and Miles’ oldest son Paul. They were watching an obnoxious Disney
DVD when Zach got to the bedroom and sitting
close enough to each other
that Zach figured his only requirement would be to keep them apart. The
little
ones, a six year old Franny and five year old twin boys who were
brothers of
the girl, were playing some kind of child’s board game with Patty.
Zach watched
Bruce’s body and
realized it wasn’t moving quite as he remembered his friend. There were
subtle
differences, but the most striking thing was Patty seemed to be
left-handed,
while Bruce was ambidextrous, favoring his right side. She smiled more
with a
broad, full teeth smile, while Bruce was fairly tight lipped with just
a hint
of smile at the corners of his mouth. Carlotta was smiled like Patty.
Willy
with his perpetual apologies, hardly ever broke his sour face for even
the
faintest of grins. Lance smiled, too, but his seemed forced as if he’d
prefer a
somber countenance portraying his supposed dominance over the other
personalities, who seemed to be able to push him out of the way when
they
wanted to expose themselves.
Zach sat down next
to Paul
and the boy glared at him.
“What’s wrong?”
Zach asked.
“Get away from me
faggot,”
Paul said.
Zach stared at him
and Franny
said, “I’m gonna tell Mommy you said a naughty word.”
“No you won’t,”
Paul said. He
jumped up and had the collar of his brother’s t-shirt wadded up in his
fist in
a flash. The other fist was inches from the face of a surprisingly calm
little
boy. “I’ll pound you if you say anything.”
“No you won’t,”
Franny said.
“’Cuz you know Daddy’ll whip you.”
“I’ll report him,”
Paul said.
“Go ahead! You know
what he
said. He said if you want to go to a foster home he’ll pack your bag.”
“Hey! You two stop
it,” Patty
said. She grabbed Paul’s shirt in the middle of his back and pulled the
boy off
his brother. She set him down beside her and stared at him.
Zach wasn’t certain
what was
going to happen, after all Patty supposedly was a sadist. At least
that’s how
she initially approached him and the others seemed to think she was
dangerous,
so with her holding Paul so that he couldn’t move any more than flop
his arms
and legs about, made Zach a little nervous.
“Is everything okay
in here?”
Miles asked at the door. Paul immediately went limp.
“Yes, sir,” Patty
said. “The
boys were discussing Paul’s incorrect choice of words. We’ll take care
of it.”
“Okay,” Miles said.
He looked
at Zach and their eyes met for a second before Zach broke contact.
Miles nodded
as if he knew something, but Zach wasn’t certain what that was, nor was
all
that interested in finding out. Miles turned and shut the door.
Paul was sitting
beside
Patty.
“Well, young man,
what are we
going to do with you?” Patty asked. Her hand was on Paul’s shoulder.
“Faggot is
a particularly offensive word in this home. You know that?”
“Why?” Paul asked.
“You don’t know?”
Patty
asked.
“No, why should I,”
Paul
said. “Zach’s the faggot here.”
“And your
godfather, Paul,
and David,” Patty said.
“Uh? What do you
mean?” Paul
asked.
“What’s a faggot?”
Patty
asked.
“It’s a guy,” Paul
whispered.
“You’re a guy,”
Patty said.
“I’m not no
faggot,” Paul
said.
“So, what’s a
faggot,” Patty
asked.
“It’s a guy does
things with
guys,” Paul whispered.
“What kind of
things?”
“You know, things.”
“No, I don’t know,
and I don’t
think you know, either. Do you?”
“He got beat up
’cuz wanted
to do things with a guy,” Paul said. He pointed at Zach.
“What kind of
things?” Patty
asked. She wasn’t going to let this end. “Did anyone say what Zach
wanted to do
with the other guy?”
“No, but he’s a
faggot and he
wanted to do faggot things with that guy, but that guy didn’t want to
do that
so he beat him up.”
“You don’t have any
idea what
you’re talking about, do you?” Patty asked. “A friend of yours told
you, didn’t
he? He said Zach was a faggot, but he didn’t know either, did he?”
“No,” Paul
whispered. “I mean
yes, no, no.”
He scrunched he
face up and
then stared at the floor. She’d caught him and there wasn’t anything he
could
do to free the snare from his legs. All Patty had to do was string the
boy up
by his ankles and she could do anything she wanted.
“Do you know what
it means to
be gay?” Patty asked.
“Uh, huh, Uncle
David and
Paul are gay because they live together and sleep in the same bed,”
Paul said.
His eyes were glued to the floor. “I’ve seen them kiss on the lips.”
“Does that bother
you?” Patty
asked. She’d begun to lightly massage the boy’s neck with her hand.
“No, ’cuz they love
each
other,” Paul said. He was totally defeated and he knew it.
“Do you know Zach
and I kiss
sometimes,” Patty said. Her index finger was softly rubbing the side of
Paul’s
neck.
“You do? You’re
gay?”
“Yes, and Zach is,
too.”
“But, Ronny said
Zach was a
faggot.”
“Paul, faggot is a
bad word,”
Patty said. Her whole hand was now rubbing his back. “We don’t like
here.”
“Oh, but Zach got
beat up,”
Paul said. He looked over toward Zach, but their eyes didn’t meet. He
looked
sad.
“Yeah, I got beat
up because
I was stupid,” Zach said. “I was trying to nice, but I was with a
stranger and
didn’t know he didn’t like gays.”
“Were you going to
kiss him?”
Paul asked. His face showed he was trying to figure out things with his
meager
knowledge of sex.
“We might’ve gotten
to that,”
Zach said. He’d come over to them and knelt down beside Paul.
“You were going to
do things,
weren’t you?” Paul asked. He stared at the floor, too embarrassed to
admit he
wasn’t too certain what things actually entailed.
“Yeah, I thought he
wanted to
do gay things because some guys like to do gay things with other guys.
That doesn’t
make it bad, if both of you want to do it. I thought that’s what he
wanted, but
all he wanted to do was kill me.”
“Kill you?” Paul
asked. He
looked up into Zach’s eyes and horror washed down across his face.
“Yeah, that’s what
he was
going to do, but the police showed up before he was able to do too much
damage.”
“Oh,” Paul
whispered.
“Were you nervous
because I
was too close to you?” Zach asked.
“Uh, huh,” Paul
whispered. A
tear dribbled down his cheek.
“But you could’ve
said so
without using that word, right?”
“Uh, huh.”
“Okay, apology
accepted,”
Zach said. Paul turned and wrapped his arms around Zach. He was softly
weeping.
“It’s okay, Paul, you just didn’t know. Come let’s go in the bathroom
for a
minute. Okay?”
“Uh, huh.”
“We’ll be back in a
minute,”
Zach said to Patty.
“You know, Zach,
you
constantly amaze us,” Carlotta said.
“I wish you guys
wouldn’t do
that,” Zach said, but he smiled knowing they might not be able to stop
themselves from playing their little game of dominance.
“Okay, everybody,
time for
birthday cake,” Sally said at the door. The little kids were gone in a
flash,
leaving Carlotta and Zach to accompany Sally. “I want you to know
you’ve done
wonders with Missy and her brothers, Harry and Larry. Usually they’re
impossible.”
“Yours?” Carlotta
asked.
“No, I don’t have
any
children, yet,” Sally said as they walked toward the dining room.
“I didn’t know you
were
married,” Zach said. There wasn’t a ringer on Sally’s finger, not that
a ring
was necessarily required to indicate a woman was married or engaged.
Maybe
Sally wasn’t a traditionalist.
“My partner and I
haven’t
decided if we’re going to pursue the possibility of having children,”
Sally
said. She seemed to be talking more to Carlotta than Zach, but he
picked up on
the code word and practically tripped on the polished hardwood floor.
“You alright?”
Carlotta
asked.
“No, actually I’m
not,” Zach
said. He stared at Sally, but she only indignantly stared back.
“You have a
problem?” Sally
asked. Zach couldn’t tell if she was angry about what he suspected, or
what.
“No, I don’t think
so,” Zach
said. “I just didn’t suspect I wasn’t the only one.”
“What are you two
talking
about,” Carlotta said. They were in the back of the dining room which
was
filled with all the other guests. Neither Paul nor David were anywhere
in
sight.
“I’m living with
another
woman,” Sally said.
“Oh, oh! Then
you’re,”
Carlotta started.
“Yes, I am,” Sally
said, “and
you’re what? What is the correct term? Trans something?”
“They have MPD,”
Zach said,
“but all of them are gay, except maybe Donny because he’s too young.”
Carlotta glared at
him, but
didn’t say anything.
“MPD?” Sally asked.
“Isn’t
that called dissociative identity disorder now?”
“Well, yeah, I
guess,” Zach
said. “This is Carlotta. Patty was with the kids earlier. I don’t know
who was
here when you arrived. They tend to come and go rather unexpectedly.”
“Ah, I had a friend
in
college who might have had that,” Sally said. “She went to a
psychiatrist then
went home. I never heard from her again. So, uh, Carlotta? Are you
seeing
someone?”
“Yes, we go to the
same
psychiatrist as Zach,” Carlotta said.
“Has anyone seen
David?” Paul
asked as he walking into the dining room.
A weird feeling
went through
Zach’s gut like a sharp knife slicing through the belly of a young goat
when it
was being butchered.
“Zach? Could you go
down to
the garage and see if his car is there?” Paul asked. People were
beginning to
talk, as most probably knew of David’s struggle with depression.
“Sure, I’m be right
back,”
Zach said. He turned and headed toward the front door.
“I’m coming with
you,”
Carlotta said.
“What about the
kids?” Zach
asked.
“They’re with their
parents.”
“Oh, yeah.”
They didn’t talk as
the
walked out the door, across the vestibule to the elevator, as the
elevator
descended to the basement, or as they walked out across brushed
concrete to
parking stall 38, which was empty. Paul’s BMW was there, but David’s
Mercedes
was gone. Unable to stop himself, Zach sank to his knees, but did not
start to
cry. His eyes were too shocked at the implications to what might be
occurring
at that moment. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew it wasn’t
Bruce, it
might not have been Carlotta, either, but he accepted the offer of
comfort and
got back up.
“He’s dead,” Zach
said.
“You don’t know
that,”
Carlotta said.
“No, he talked
about it
earlier,” Zach said as he felt himself being pulled into a hug. “He
didn’t say
it, but he meant it when we talked. When they find him, he’ll be dead.”
“Don’t talk like
that,”
Carlotta said, “you’re scaring me.”
“Well, it’s true,
so we might
as well go tell Paul.”
Most of the guests
were gone
or leaving when Zach and Carlotta returned to the condo. Paul was on
the phone
to someone and Sally was thanking people at the door. She looked at
Zach and
she knew he didn’t have good news.
Zach went over to
the sofa
and sat down. Miles and his son Paul were at the other end. His wife
was in the
side chair holding Franny in her lap. No one expected good news.
Carlotta went
over to Paul and stood close enough for anyone with eyes to know that
was where
he belonged. Sally definitely caught the insinuation by suddenly
staring at
Zach. He shrugged his shoulders not admitting the truth, but not
denying it
either.
“I have a friend on
the
police force,” Paul said as he flipped his phone closed. “He’s going to
make a
few calls and maybe the can get a patrol car up around the south end of
Aurora Bridge. That’s where David went before. I don’t
know where
else he’d try it.”
“I take it by your
delay that
David’s car is gone?” Paul asked. He looked at Zach.
“Yeah, it’s gone,”
Carlotta
said. “Zach said the David was implying he was going to do something,
but I
don’t think Zach expected it to happen tonight.”
“He could be
anywhere,
including the I-5 bridge,” Paul said. “Any ideas, Zach?”
“No, I don’t where
he’d go,”
Zach was trying to think of something other than Uncle David jumping
over the
railing of some bridge and falling to his death. It was a conscious
decision
Zach didn’t want to think was possible. He’d almost done it, but to
realize
that Uncle David actually meant to do it. This wasn’t a spur of the
moment
decision made while driving across a bridge, standing at the railing of
the
balcony at the condo, or leaning through an open window at the
apartment. This
was getting in your car and driving to some pre-selected place, parking
the
car, walking out onto the bridge, climbing over the railing, and then
letting
go, knowing that for the next few seconds you don’t have a chance in
hell of surviving
the fall and wondering if you’ll feel any pain for those few seconds
after
hitting the ground.
Zach wanted to be
anywhere
other than on that sofa waiting for the inevitable news that the police
had
found a body and the identification said the deceased lived in an
expensive
condominium on Pill Hill is Seattle, Washington. He wanted to be able
to zone out like he’d
been able
to do only a few weeks ago, but that was not to be and, so, he sat
there
waiting with Paul, Carlotta, Sally, Miles and his wife, little Paul and
his
brother Franny, and two men Zach had never met, but who seemed to know
Paul and
David intimately, at least intimately enough to participate in the
death watch
for his former uncle David Brandon.
He couldn’t take
another
second of the waiting and got to his feet. He walked back to his old
bedroom.
He needed to be alone, but he, also, needed some comfort, which no one
in the
other room could give him. He dialed Jeremy’s number.
“Hello?”
“Jeremy?”
“Zach?”
“How you doin’?”
“Okay. Are you
okay?”
“I love you.”
“What’s wrong
Zach?”
“Zach? Are you
busy?” Sally
asked at the door.
“Just a minute,
Jeremy,” Zach
said. “I’m, uh, talking to my boyfriend.”
“Jeremy McDonald?”
“How? Who told you?”
“Dad, the last time
I talked
to him,” Sally said. She came in and sat beside him. “This is
important, okay?”
“Jeremy? I’ll have
to call
you back.”
“What’s wrong
Zach?”
“I love you. I’ll
call as
soon as I can.” He pushed the END button before Jeremy had a chance to
protest.
“Here, this is for
you,”
Sally said. She held a white business envelope with Zach’s name on it.
“Paul
just got a call from the police. Dad’s dead. Dad wanted you to have
this, now.”
Zach opened the
envelope and
took out another envelope and a letter. He began to read:
Dear
Zachary:
I
wish our
relationship
could have been better, but I let my own problems cloud my decisions
over the
past few months. You know I have not been doing well and I apologize
for
whatever I’ve done that has contributed to your own difficulties. I
wish I
might have loved you as much as I loved my own son, but that was not to
be.
As soon as you
can, I want
you to take the enclosed envelope and give it to Charles McDonald.
Also, I have
instructed
Paul to take my ashes and cast them upon the Salt Fork of the Arkansas
River north of Alva, Oklahoma. I want you
to accompany him. Please do it.
My spirit
will not rest if you’re not there.
Finally, I want
you to
have a full and happy life.
Your uncle,
David Brandon
Zach
looked up from
the
letter, but Sally was gone. He was alone. He thought of calling Jeremy,
but he
needed something more than hearing his boyfriend’s voice.
He stood up and
looked around
the room that had been his for the briefest of moments in his life. He
knew he
would never set foot in this room for the rest of his life. He hoped
that
sometime in the future, maybe when he was old and gray, he could recall
this
room and all that occurred here.
He walked out into
the hall
and Sally was waiting for him.
“Do you want me to
take you
to Jeremy?” Sally asked.
“Is that okay?”
Zach
whispered, not certain whether his absence at this time was appropriate.
“Yes, it’s okay.
Your friend
is comforting Paul. Miles will take care of things here until I get
back.”
“Are you okay?”
Zach asked.
He felt Sally should be grieving a little more, after all David was her
father.
“I was ready for
this day the
first time he tried this and that was three years ago,” Sally said.
“I’ll go
home and have my cry with Mona. You need to be with someone you love.”
Zach and Sally
didn’t talk at
all as she drove north on I-5 to the One Hundred Forty-fifth exit and
west to
the north end of Foundry Ridge Boulevard. She seemed to know where they
were
going, even to the point of turning into the McDonald estate. She
pushed the gate
button and said something Zach couldn’t hear. The gates swung open and
soon the
lights of the house lit up the night. Bud and Jeremy were waiting at
the porte
cochere.
“I’ll call you
tomorrow,”
Sally said when she stopped the car. “Dad had everything arranged. He’s
been
planning this for weeks.”
“I’m sorry,” Zach
said.
“Don’t be sorry,
Dad had all
this figured out to the last detail. I know what’s in that letter to
Mr.
McDonald. Dad loved you very, very much. He just didn’t know how to
express it.
Go on, I’m talk to you tomorrow.”
Zach got out of the
car and
watched it pull away. He felt arms on his shoulders and looked into
Jeremy’s
eyes.
“Sir? Bud? This is
for you,”
Zach said as he held out the envelope.
“Do you know what’s
in here?”
Bud asked.
“I haven’t the
foggiest idea
and quite frankly I don’t really want to know right now,” Zach said. He
was
trying very hard to keep the tears away, but knew he had to get into
the house
and up to Jeremy’s bedroom right now.
“We’ll talk in the
morning,”
Bud said. “Go on you two.”
“Thank you,” Zach
said.
____________
Author’s Note:
Sorry for the
short chapter, but there’s only so much you can do for a character who
chooses
such a dramatic exit. We are now no more than three chapters from THE
END.