Date: Fri, 27 Jan 2006 21:36:08 -0500 From: Jaylovenj@comcast.net Subject: The Watering Hole You know all the usual disclaimers -- not old enough, not legal, yada-yada! They apply. Also know this story is the property of this writer, and all rights belong to same. Feedback is welcomed, so you may contact me at Jaylovenj@comcast.net The Watering Hole: Chapter 1 This place hadn't changed a bit. The bar was still to the left as you came through the door, and it occupied the entire wall. Liquor of every type in every design of bottle was on shelves placed in front of mirrors. The bar led to the kitchen area where they prepared typical foods found in neighborhood bars: hamburgers, cheeseburgers, cheese sticks, and potato skins, et al. They had a menu, but very rarely did anyone order anything other than the aforementioned items. Grease, wonderful grease! Tables occupied the rest of the area, sans a small stage in the corner where one night a week there was karaoke, and occasionally, a small, local band would perform. I sat in the back of the bar, at a little table for two. I wasn't expecting anyone to join me, and I really didn't want to speak with anyone. I was in a melancholy mood. Being back here was taking its toll on me, emotionally, but this was something that I really needed to do. The last time I was here, he was with me. He being my former love, Michael. Michael and I were together two wondrous years. I met him when I started my position as an Assistant District Attorney with the city of Newark. He was a trooper with the New Jersey State Police, and he was beautiful. I think I fell for him the moment I first saw him. He always said it was the uniform, but, believe me, it was his eyes. Mike had the most amazing eyes. Too him, and everyone else, they were just your run of the mill brown eyes. But to me, they were magic. They sparkled and shone with flecks of gold. They held the fiery passion of an inferno, and the twinkle of a million stars. I used to sit for hours -- just staring -- at his eyes. He'd often catch me lost in them as I failed to respond to something he was discussing, a stupid grin plastered across my face. Mike was everything that you could want in a man. He was thoughtful, considerate, self-assured, intelligent, and God! Was he handsome. And -- he loved me! He really loved me. That fact alone was mind-boggling to me since he was my first. I had never been with a man until Mike. I had confessed my gayness to my family a long time ago, but I had never acted upon my feelings. Being rather shy, it was hard for me to go that extra, extra mile that coming on to a man took. Besides, coming out to men can be dangerous. It can quickly become an ugly situation if you pick the wrong guy. I had attempted to find Mr. Right, there was never that spark. That something, that makes that person -- special! But I always associated it with just the fact that I had yet to meet that special someone. Never in a million years would I suspect that that special person would be sporting a six-inch woody. We met totally by accident, working on a case together. He was openly gay, something that was supported by the State's Attorney General. And we managed to talk -- really talk. And of course, my curiosity got the better of me when he was talking about his lifestyle. I learned a lot from him. He made me realize that being gay is not a choice that one makes. As he put it, why would anyone choose to live a lifestyle that is contrary to general thinking. Why would anyone subject themselves to the ridicule and bashing? And, why would I be so arrogant to think that God, in His infinite wisdom, who made so many diverse and wonderful things, not have made some people gay, just to see if his children can get along. Because if we can't get along here on earth, how can we get along in Heaven? I found myself thinking of Mike more and more, anxiously awaiting our next meeting as we prepared the case. I finally got the courage to call him one day, just to invite him for drinks. We continued this pattern over the course of a couple of months until he asked me one evening if he could kiss me goodnight. We were at my place, having just watched Monday night football. As chance would have it, we both were free the next day, having to work the coming weekend. I don't think I waited a minute before I pulled him to me, and our lips met. He never did make it home that night, and a week later, he moved in. That was four years ago tonight. We celebrated this day as our anniversary. Two years ago tonight, I waited for Mike to come home from work. I had prepared an intimate dinner for the celebration. I was dressed in my best, and the apartment looked beautiful. Each room was candlelit, giving the place a soft, inviting glow. A knock on the door stopped my preparation as I opened the door to admonish Mike about leaving his key again. On the other side were Rich and Freddy. The look on their faces said it all. Mike was not coming home, ever again. I must have collapsed. When I came to my sensibilities, I way lying on the couch, and the candles had been extinguished. Freddy had a cold towel to my forehead, and Rich was pouring me a glass of whiskey. Tony, there's been an accident, Freddy was softly saying. Mike had stopped to assist in an accident on Route 78 when a car slammed into the scene, striking him and another victim. Mike was thrown 35-feet by the impact. He -- he died instantly. >From what I was told, I went into a state of shock. They transported me to the hospital. I didn't even make it to his funeral. "Happy Anniversary, Babe," I say, raising my glass, and taking a drink. "I' ll always love you." Just then this guy sits at my table. I look at him with attitude, ready to clean his clock for the intrusion. He is wearing a big smile, a smile I found diffusing my anger. He looked to be a couple of inches shorter than me, maybe around five-seven to my six feet. He has straight, black hair that is rather long, and he has it braided in a single ponytail going down the center of his back. It looked so silky. "Stop me if you've heard this one," he says. "Sleeping Beauty, Tom Thumb, and Quasimodo were talking one day. Sleeping Beauty says, `I wonder if I am the most beautiful person in the world'; Tom Thumb says, `and I wonder if I am the smallest person in the world. Quasimodo ponders if he is the ugliest person in the world." I look at him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" He goes on, ignoring me. "So they decide to go to Ripley's Believe It Or Not to find out. Sleeping Beauty goes in first. When she comes out, she is beaming. `I am! I am! I am the most beautiful person in the world,' she exclaims to the others. Next, Tom Thumb goes in. He, too, comes out beaming. `Like I thought, I am the smallest person in the world.' He is beaming with pride. Seeing their good fortune, Quasimodo goes in next, grinning the ugliest smile in the world. He is in there longer than the others, and they soon become worried. After another ten minutes, the doors open, and a forlorn looking Quasimodo reappears. His friends, being concerned, rush to his side. `What's the matter?' they both ask. `You were in there so long. Are you not the ugliest person in the world?' Quasimodo looks at them, puzzled, and asks, `Who's Linda Tripp?'" "What are you talking about?" I ask. "You know...Linda Tripp? Monica Lewinsky's friend? The ones that tried to bring down Bill Clinton?" I continue to stare at him. "That's my attempt at a little humor. Very little," he smiles. "That was the lamest joke that I ever heard," but I can't help but laugh as I say this. "I'm Lucas Winters," he says, extending his hand. "If you don't mind," I say, not taking his proffered hand, "I really would like to be alone tonight." "Usually people who sit in bars, in back booths or tables, drinking alone, are usually depressed people." "And what are you? The Cheer Police?" He chuckles. "You might say that." "And what makes you think I am depressed?" I ask. "Well, I've been here for fifteen minutes, and I've seen you down three shots. There is also your posture. You're sitting slumped in your seat, and you keep your head in your hands. But the biggest giveaway is the tracks of the tears falling from your eyes." His voice has soften now. "You want to talk about it? I'm a good listener. Honest!" He raises three fingers in the Boy Scout pledge. I look at this stranger for the first time. He is a good-looking guy, cold black hair and hazel eyes with a dazzling smile behind thick, sensuous lips and a goatee. He looks at me expectantly, waiting a reply. "If you must know," I say with a heavy sigh, "this is a celebration. Can't you see how fucking happy I am?" "And what are we celebrating?" "We aren't celebrating anything. I am celebrating my anniversary." "Oh, congratulations!" he says. "How many years?" "This would have been our fourth," I say. "Well, shouldn't you wait for your wife?" he asks. "You can't let her see you looking like this." I decided it was time to shock this asshole. "I thought you said you were a good listener. Did you even hear the words would have been? And what makes you assume that I'm talking about a woman. I was in love with a man. Does that shock you?" "I'm sorry. You're right. I did hear the words, but they just didn't register until after I had made that little faux pas. And I just took the standard route when it came to the sex of your partner. Please forgive me." His apology was so sincere that I found myself losing my hold on the anger I was feeling. And it didn't help that this Lucas was smiling that dazzling smile. "No, I'm the one that's sorry," I say. I can't believe that I'm the one now apologizing. "I shouldn't have been so rude. You are only trying to make me feel better. For that, I thank you." "Why don't I buy you a drink...I'm sorry. I don't know your name?" "Tony, Tony DeMarco." "Why don't I buy you a drink, Tony, and you can tell me all about this wonderful man? What was his name?" Lucas asks. "Mike. Michael Sampson. He was a NJ State Trooper. He was killed in when a car crashed into him at the scene of an accident." For the next two hours, I told Lucas of Mike; and of our life together. There was lots of laughter as I recalled some of the memories, and some tears as we talked. Before I realized it, the bar was announcing last call. "Well, I guess I should be going. Thank you, Lucas, for caring enough to try to comfort me." "I didn't do anything special," he says. "Oh, yes you did. You did a lot more than any other person here did. You listened." "You're not driving, are you? I mean, you've had quite a few drinks tonight." "No, I had the foresight to leave my car at home. I took a taxi." "Then allow me to drive you." "But you've been drinking tonight also." "Club soda. So, let me take you home. Where do you live?" "You don't have to do that," I say, trying to give him a way out. "It's not a problem. Again, where do you live?" "I live in Thurgood Gardens." "Nice area. Just give me a moment to let Johnny know I'm leaving." I watch him walk over to the bartender, saying a few words as he approaches. "...No problem, Luke. You have a good night," I heard Johnny say. Luke says something else, and I hear Johnny respond, "You too, boss." "He called you boss. Do you own this place?" I ask as we get into Lucas' black Lexus LS. "Yeah, it's mine." "Mike loved this place. He would come here at least three times a week." "Was Mike a medium height fellow, with brown hair and eyes, muscular build, and a cocky walk?" "Yeah, that was my Mike." "I think I remember him. He was a regular, yeah. I wondered what happened to him. I'm so sorry. I really liked him. I'm very sorry to hear he died." "Thank you. He was a special man." Lucas has pulled up in front of my house. "Well, looks like we're here. Thanks again for the lift." "No problem. But don't make that the last time you stop by for a visit." "I will, the next time I feel the need for a real cry...and the company of a friend." "Just come by for the company. Okay?" I smile at that, getting out of the car. Lucas waits until I am in the house before he drives off. Over the next couple of months, I become a regular at The Watering Hole, the name of Lucas' bar. And I found myself slowly coming out of my funk. Lucas has been a great friend, often taking time to entertain me as he kept one eye on his business. And business was flourishing. There were nights that Luke and I sat at a table in the back that he had reserved for us. It was the second month of my visiting when I was totally surprised by Lucas. We were sitting there talking when Lucas informed me he had a gift for me. After the expected `you didn't have to(s)', he got up and went to the mike on the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen. We are about to begin our karaoke contest here at The Watering Hole, and we have some great talent lined up. But before I introduce the emcee for the evening, Jessica Baroni, I hope you will indulge me for a few moments. You see, I have a very special person here with me tonight, someone who has had a pretty rough life of late with horrors that I pray that no one here has ever experienced. Someone that he loved was taken from him rather suddenly, and unexpectedly, and naturally, this has left him rather sad. I just want him to know that he's not alone in this world -- ever, and so... The music starts, and Lucas begins to sing. He has a wonderful baritone voice. When you're down and troubled And you need some loving care And nothing, nothing is going right, Close your eyes and think of me And soon I will be there To brighten up even your darkest night. You just call out my name And you know wherever I am I'll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall, All you have to do is call And I'll be there. You've got a friend. I could feel the tears begin to roll down my face as he looks towards me. A smile creeps upon his lips as his eyes meet mine, and we become the only two in the place. If the sky above you Grows dark and full of clouds And that old north wind begins to blow, Keep your head together And call my name out loud. Soon you'll hear me knocking at your door. You just call out my name And you know wherever I am I'll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall, All you have to do is call And I'll be there. Ain't it goo to know that you've got a friend? When people can be so cold They'll hurt you, and desert you And take your soul if you let them. Oh, but don't you let them. You just call out my name And you know wherever I am I'll come running to see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall, All you have to do is call And I'll be there. You've got a friend, (Ain't it good to know that) You've got a friend. (Yeah, yeah, yeah,) You've got a friend. Words and Music by Carol King © 1971 The thunderous applause brought me from my transient state of catatonia where the world only existed for Lucas and me. I was still in a fog as he walked towards me. I wasn't even aware that I was standing. "That was absolutely beau..." My words are cut off as Lucas presses his lips to mine. With abandonment, we answer the question that had been tickling my sub-consciousness for weeks now. "I've fallen totally and insanely in love with you," he says. "Now, I know you might not be ready to get into a relationship now, but I'm willing to wait. I want to be your friend, your lover, and your confidant. I want to see the dawn and the sunset with you; I want to take care of you, and, if you give me the chance, I will never make you regret this -- ever!" "Luke! Lucas..." He silences me by putting a finger over my lips. "Don't say no -- at least not tonight. Think about your answer. But know this, if you say no tonight, I'd ask again tomorrow. And everyday thereafter until I wear you down. Come on," he says, taking me by the arm. "Let's get out of here." We start to walk towards the exit and I realize that every eye is upon us, and the crowd is applauding. "How about that, ladies and gentlemen? Our very own Lucas Winters." We still hear the echo of the applause as the door closes. For some reason I found myself drawn back to The Watering Hole (okay, it was Luke). I spent the next evening there, talking to Luke. I found it easy to converse with him. He had a witty, yet strange sense of humor, and he managed to keep me feeling light as I poured out my life with Mike. Soon, we were not only spending time there, but we were meeting for dinner, going out to plays, and even taking in a few concerts. We even went bowling. I found myself actually starting to look forward to all the time I spent with Luke, and we were becoming the best of friends. We had been "dating" for about two months when, as I was taking Luke home one night from dinner, he suggested we go somewhere to talk. So, I started the car, and drove to the local county park. It is a beautiful expanse of green lawn and trees, walkways and paths, nestled on five acres. "Come on," I say, squeezing his hand as I open the car door. "Aren't you wary about coming to such a deserted area this time of night?" he asks. "We'll be alright. And I'll have you know that I can take care of myself. I' m a third-degree black belt, Ta Kwon Do," I answer. "I'm impressed. Does that mean that I shouldn't toy with your emotions?" "Precisely!" I smile. I lead him over to the children's swing. Just then, we notice headlights coming our way. I tense up somewhat until I see that it's the local county cops. "What's going on here, guys?" a male voice asks. "Tony? Is that you? It's me, Terry," the police officer says, exiting the cruiser. "Terry? It's so good to see you again. How have you been?" "I'm doing good. You look...well." "Thanks. It's getting much easier each day. I'd like you to meet someone. Officer Terry Bergen, I'd like you to meet a very good friend of mine, Lucas Winters." They shake hands. "Nice meeting you, Officer," Luke says. "Same here. And it's Terry. If you're a friend of this guy's, you have to be alright," he smiles. "So, what are you guys doing here? Suddenly had this urge to swing?" he asks, indicating the swing set we were sitting on. "No," I laugh. "Luke and I need a little time, and a quiet place, to talk...free of interruptions and distractions, you know?" "Yeah, I know. Well, I tell you what. I'll make a very slow circle of the park. It should take me...oh...twenty minutes. Do you think you could finish your talk in that time? You really shouldn't be in the park, this late. It's dangerous, you know." "Thanks, Terry." "Hey! Mike and you always treated me nice; became real friends. And friends look out for one another." "Then I should see you more often, friend," I say, emphasizing the word `friend'. "Yeah, you should stop by the club sometimes," Luke offers. "Club?" "Yeah, Luke is the owner of The Watering Hole," I add. "That's the place Mike use to go to all the time," Terry adds. "Yeah, that's the place." "I just might do that," Terry says. "Okay, twenty minutes," he continues, getting back in the cruiser. "He seems like a nice fellow," Luke says as we watch Terry pull away. "He is a great guy. But, you wanted to talk?" I ask. "Tony," he begins rather hesitantly. "I really like being with you. You make every day brighter, more fun for me. I know you are troubled and confused about starting again." "Luke, I..." "No, let me finish, or I won't get this out," he says. I acquiesce, letting him have his say. "Antonio DeMarco, I have fallen in love with you. I want to be with you, to love you, to make love with you and to you. I want to awaken each day with you in my arms, or me in yours. I want to watch you sleep, eat, brush your hair. I get anxious when I know its time for you to walk through the door of the club, and I panic when you are even moments late. I...I know you may not be ready to start again, and that's all right," he quickly adds. "I'm willing to wait. I'll wait for an eternity, as long as I know that I stand a chance. I know I'm not all that great to look at, but I do have a good heart. That counts for something, doesn't it? Do you think you could ever love me?" There it is. The billion-dollar question. Funny thing is, I did have strong feelings for Luke. But, is this love? Is this the beginning of love? "Luke..." "No, don't say it," he sighs. "I know what you're going to say. I can see it in your eyes." "Will you stop it?" I say becoming somewhat angry. "You can't see anything in my eyes. It's too dark," I laugh, but it doesn't lighten the mood. "Luke," I begin again, "you are a very special man." "Uh oh!" "As I was saying, you are a very special man. And I, too, look forward to being with you. I appreciate the fact that you aren't aggressive. So many men would have been trying to get me into bed long before now. But, you've been patient with me. "Well, I've tried not to push..." "And you've been great..." "But, you don't feel the same about me," he concludes. His head falls. I shake my head. "You can be so insufferable sometimes. That's not what I am saying, at all! What I want to say...listen to me...what I want to say is that I find myself falling for you as well. I can understand with what you said about seeing you. I so look forward to seeing your sparkling blue eyes. And sometimes I feel as if I'm going to burst from the happiness I feel when I'm with you." "Tony? Are you saying what I think you're saying?" "I think so," I answer, leaning in for a kiss. "Ah, guys, your twenty minutes are up," Terry says through the loud speaker of his cruiser. "Go get a room!" We glare at him. He's laughing, knowing he has disturbed us. "You've got great fucking timing," I yell to Terry as Luke and I walk past him on the way to the car. "Yeah, just take it somewhere else, fellas," he snickers. "I'll call you soon, Tony!" he says before driving off. There is silence in the car as I drive Lucas back to his apartment building. "Do you want to come up?" he asks timidly. "Luke, there is nothing I would rather do than to come up. But we both know that if I did, I wouldn't be going home. Tonight, I need to go home. Have a little more patience with me?" I beg. "I could wait a lifetime for you." He leans over and kisses me. Not just a quick peck on the lips, but a full-fledged, tongue touching the back of your tonsils kiss, leaving us both gasping for air. I can feel my manhood rapidly swelling with blood. "You're sure you don't want to come up?" he asks, flashing that brilliant smile. "Next...time," I pant. "Next time." He opens the car door, and I watch as he walks into the lobby. "Damn! And he has a great ass, too!" This is the end of chapter 1. Others will follow. As all writers enjoy hearing from our readers, your opinion, good or bad, only serves to make us better at what we do.