by Emma Janson
Ignacio maintained his silence as he inhaled. He refused to admit anything by holding a neutral silence while his brain swirled in a battle of love verses sexual attraction. He repeated to himself that he was not gay as he visualized giving Buck head while Belinda nudged herself eagerly at his lips.
“Tell me who you are,” she whispered again.
Ignacio, who’d enjoyed the connection without sexuality, was beginning to seethe with frustration over the tornado of emotions in his mind. Why was she doing this? Why couldn’t he leave? His torment was deconstructing his mental stability one piece at a time. What he truly wanted was to once again enjoy the company of a woman, but the orderly was a new craving that pushed at his moral fiber.
Together, their inhales became wilder and stronger. He wanted to push away before things got out of hand, but instead he pulled her hips closer. Although he was guilt-ridden with images of his love flashing under his eyelids, a part of him wanted to please Belinda in every sense of the word.
Yet, how could he miss Buck so much that his heart felt twisted and heavy, when he thought he’d desired women since he was fourteen? Homosexuality verses heterosexuality...too complex to analyze when there was an aroused woman rolling her body over his face. He tried to stop himself from giving in and just breathe, but even that was twisted.
Belinda questioned him again. “Who are you?”
Ignacio thought of Buck. A guilt tugged at his heart as arousal swelled in his groin. His eyes fluttered as he batted away dancing colors of light. Belinda licked at his sensitive skin and he submitted to her kisses while distracted by his inner conflict. The pitch of his voice ascended with every moan. He was breaking on so many levels.
While his mind and body were at war with each other, a stress washed over him like he had never felt before. His heartbeat almost became too much to withstand while he labored to breathe through the rolling of her hips above his face. His ears burned as the floating lights brightened. There was a sensation of drowning, and panic which at first felt like he just needed to lift her off his nose, but this inability to breathe couldn’t be relieved. It didn’t come from the physical scenario he’d put himself in. It was a manifestation of an inner, repressed hurricane. The physical reaction that grew from the oncoming storm was a sick hyperventilation that pumped blood to his genitals in an uncomfortably perverted rhythm.
Then there was a sensation of something sinking in his center. Was it guilty thoughts or tormented ideas of homosexuality? A tingling itched and pinched at his nipples then as he arched his back to get comfortable. The arching of his back led to a rolling of his hips, though, and the desire for the penetration he was able to get with Buck. Ignacio gave in to pushing Belinda’s hips upward, so he could shake the panic from his body. But he was experiencing the beginning of an orgasm that wasn’t his alone, and his moans began to sound soprano in the echoing of the room.
Ignacio was fading into the truth of his insanity and sexuality.
Juana’s personality seeped and pushed out of the body she was hiding within. Belinda repeated a demand that Ignacio was unable to hear because Juana was the one who was listening. “Tell me what a dyke you are,” Belinda said. This made Juana’s delicate toes curl and burn as she finally released with orgasm. It was a beautiful thing to finally be out of Ignacio’s mind and into his skin.
WORDS AMONG MEN
Mr. Reed sat to watch the sun set, relaxing with his head nurse on a small bench at the end of grape row 6B. Jack found that naming conventions helped identify where the grapes were with regard to ripeness, not to mention keeping him on track with where the hell he was when he became disoriented, working all day, in the middle of his precious vineyard. It was cold enough to see breath in the air when the two men exhaled – the perfect temperature and time of year for harvesting ice wine.
Jack had never been one to sit and chat with the staff, but Buck had been visibly upset when he’d requested the conversation – and there was that special something in Buck that tugged at Jack’s heartstrings. To be honest, Jack felt genuine curiosity over the stresses of this man with visibly welling tears in his eyes. Jack had to find out what the issue was – not to be nosey, but because he sincerely cared about Buck. It seemed that now was a perfect time, while they shivered on an antique wooden bench with Jack’s boney butt pinching under him, cold be damned. The colorful dawn sky slowly faded to black as Buck spoke.
“Been this skinny your whole life, Mr. Reed?” Buck looked him up and down with a smile on his face as he watched his boss squirm more than a few times to get comfortable, and rubbed at his elbow that had accidently knocked at the back of the bench. Jack’s Northern Lights employee coat, with his embroidered name on the left breast under the logo, couldn’t hide his pencil-thin frame or the abnormally large bulge in his right pocket.
Jack knew that Buck was trying to find a way to open the conversation so that he could vent his frustrations. Usually, Buck was a bold man, very comfortable about telling folks which way was up, but as of late he had been having trouble finding his words. Jack guessed this change in personality was the result of whatever he was trying to get off his chest. He looked to his employee, a very strong man, as he pulled two mason jars nearly full of whiskey out of his employee coat. He offered one of the jars to Buck, who unscrewed the lid sipped at the rim, leaving some kind of chapstick grease on the threaded, curved edge of the glass. They drank while they chatted.
Jack entertained the silly question Buck had asked by confirming that he’d always been a tall, lean kid and that he’d passed it on to his children, who’d gotten their physiques from him along with their mother’s red hair. He felt compelled to wink after the comment. After a long pause and a shared smile, he went on to say that his height and mad skills should have gotten him a spot in the National Basketball Association, even though he knew that his employee wouldn’t believe him.
Buck laughed at the thought of Mr. Reed’s wiry frame shooting a basketball from half-court. They raised their jars in a toast to the NBA, but the truth of it was that Mr. Reed’s skills in the game actually could have put him there if he hadn’t been unreasonably concerned with his asthma. Moving on from the awkward starter question, though, Mr. Reed told Buck to just spill the beans, his welcoming and open disposition shining through the awkwardness. He told Buck that he had his undivided attention, and obvious privacy, which was the absolute truth – however, in the back of his mind, Jack knew that he was on an early schedule in the morning. If his employee needed a gentle nudge to open the platform into a serious conversation, he was more than willing to provide it, as long as he rested before harvesting rows 8D through 13A and review security footage.
Buck, beginning to feel the chill in his bones, pulled the hood of his jacket up over his head to protect his neck and ears. It was also a good way to literally tuck himself away into the guilt over what he was about to say. He placed his lip over the same greasy spot on the rim of the jar and let the liquid burn as he swallowed. Buck a man of great strength felt vulnerable and small. After he took another swig he tugged at the hood to reset himself within. He took a deep breath in preparation, and finally told Mr. Reed that he was sleeping with a patient in Northern Lights, but then he refused to say which one when Jack asked.
Jack, clearly aware of the tumultuous relationship between Samuel and Belinda, hoped it wasn’t her. He couldn’t imagine Buck switching his sexual preference for her – nor did he want to; however, stranger things had happened at Northern Lights. He made a note to watch more security videos later, to try and discover the identity of Buck’s lover out of curiosity.
“Buck, this is a mental facility. These people are sick in the head, buddy. You can’t get involved with them!” He set his empty jar down next to the foot of the bench.
Although Jack had no room to be judgmental, he next explained to his employee that he had to end it – otherwise, he and Jill would be obligated to fire him; although, at this point, he could technical
ly have done it immediately. Buck completely understood. By the end of the talk and by the time they had a second empty jar, Jack and Buck were drunk and the sky was dark enough to call it night. Each man felt content and happy with the way their conversation was going and how well they were getting along. It was almost disappointing to know that it was coming to an end.
Alas, Jack thought again of the grapes that wouldn’t pick themselves. “All right, buddy, it’s been fun, but let’s go in. You better sleep it off in the staff room before the wife finds out about this. When you are ready, you can tell me who it is. I like gossip, too, even though I don’t admit it to everyone.” Jack patted Buck’s back before standing up to stretch his Ichabod Crane body. The material in his jacket made all kinds of crunching noises as his arms lifted to the heavens, pulling the bottom of it up above the waist of his cargo pants. When he was done stretching, he bent down to reach for the empty mason jars. But the second he applied enough pressure to get a decent grasp on the glass, which was cold to the touch, Buck said the name that made him loose his grip. The corner of the jar connected with the bench in just the right way, breaking it into five fairly large chunks. The tin lid rolled aside and lodged itself in the cracks of the boards below where Buck sat.
“You are fucking who? Ignacio Cheyez? Out of all the people in this place, you chose him? You know he’s the craziest one in this facility! Well, I shouldn’t say that...um, his alternate personality is very complex. Juana is his mother, you know? She tried to kill his family!” Jack tried to refrain from shouting, but the emphasis in his voice pushed the volume to an uncontrollable level. Realizing that it was unnecessary to use that scolding tone with his favorite employee, he paused uncomfortably to choose better words and a better tone. It only took a second for Jack to change his breathing and demeanor. “Buddy, her personality is volatile.” He pulled his coat jacket down over his hand and wiped the chunks of glass into the nearly frozen grass beneath the bench. He shivered when the cold sensation permeated his cargo pants after reseating himself.
As if the shock of this information wasn’t enough, Jack dared to interject, “Wait, I thought you were gay?”
Buck’s booming base voice lended itself into a sweet southern accent that was fluttery and feminine. “Yes, honey, I am. I think.” He tilted his head down and away with guilt at first, and then he looked to Jack, whose mind was completely blown. A strangely random wind picked up for a brief moment and pushed at his hood, exposing his beautifully fearful eyes. He didn’t necessarily see Mr. Reed as his boss, but as a better father figure than his own biological dad who’d left his mother for a white woman and never looked back.
And the last thing Jack wanted to do was disappoint him, as a man or as the favored staff member.
Jack ran his bony fingers over his own face again and again, caressing his nose, cheeks, and mouth. In college, he’d learned from a body language class that this subconscious sign meant that you want to say something, or you are holding something back. Both were true as he tried to unscramble drunken thoughts from the very deep information in his head. While rummaging his hand repeatedly over the lower half of his face, he offered, “But he has split – into her.” Between curses, he looked at Buck to confirm the validity of his confession. “Holy cow! You. I can’t believe...Well, which one are you fucking? How did this happen?”
Buck admitted that he didn’t know how it had happened exactly, but he attributed the beginning of it to when his half-sister had left the receptionist position because she’d gotten caught with Ignacio in the smoking room. As he continued talking about the incident, Jack heard Buck’s voice tremble with increasing difficulties over catching his breath. A man of his strength, not just physically, didn’t get rattled easily; Jack needed to console him. “Listen, I know you didn’t want us to fire your sister for that, but two other patients saw them together. We had to.” He stared at Buck’s face, which was beginning to blend into the darkening night sky.
Buck sniffed. “I’ve been working here for years, Jack, and I have experienced lots of things with DID patients. I believe I have a general understanding of the disorder...but Ignacio is different. When I look at Ignacio, I see Juana, too, and to make things worse, I think I am in love with him – or her.” His eyes blinked slowly with a drunken heaviness. “Don’t you see their alters sometimes? Actually see them?”
Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest like he was contemplating life, but he understood exactly what Buck was saying. Jack’s own thoughts were swirling and circular, much like his body that swayed and rolled with the lingering effects of the whiskey. He slumped hard into the back of the bench and shook his head. “Buddy, this shit is crazy. I am having a difficult time wrapping my brain around this, to be honest. Lemme...Let me get this clear. You are a gay man, fucking a man who thinks he is a woman? And not in a...a transgender person kind of way, but in a split personality psychosis kind of way. Are you in love with her?” He trailed off into thoughts of Belinda, who was in love with Samuel, the alternate personality of Mr. Jenkins and scratched his head.
Buck bobbed his head up and down in the comforts of the re-set hood and looked down to the broken pieces of glass near his feet. His hands and toes were cold, but he was so nervous that he was sweating. The entire underside of the shirt near his armpits was soaked now, which only made his body colder.
“I don’t want ya’ll to fire me. I’m trying to deal with this the best I can, but it’s getting to the point where it’s hindering my work and my focus – not to mention, I’m falling in love with a mental patient.”
“So...when you guys are intimate...I mean, how does that work?” Jack was genuinely confused, and there was nothing perverse in the question, so far as he meant it.
“Mr. Reed. Come on. I don’t want to lose my job! I love it here. Ya’ll treat me like family.” He pressed his index finger and middle finger into his forehead, causing an unnatural bend. He noticed his lips were dry and licked them with whiskey-flavored saliva.
“We think of you as family, too...Buck.” Jack stared at his face, then sniffed back a tickle that began to make his nose itch and his eyes water. Before the wave of emotions took over, he shook his head to refocus. “Well, shit, buddy, you gotta stop fucking the patients!” Jack slapped his knee and laughed, but he knew for a fact that Buck was a true professional and had never ever indulged in any irresponsible activity – not until now. He had seen him break up fights, confiscate and destroy illegal drugs, report the things he was supposed to report, and go out of his way to make sure Northern Lights was a safe place for its patients. He had security tapes to prove Buck Lynn’s history, without compromising his morale fiber. He also knew that this was a one-time thing...especially when Buck didn’t giggle at the joke. “Sorry. Sorry. This is serious. My apologies, buddy, but you can’t blame me for being curious and picking on you about it. This is a doozey of a situation you got here.” His jacket shuffled as he shifted to get more comfortable on the bench again. The night air was increasingly becoming colder by the minute, but he couldn’t break himself away from his spot. Not wanting to push the issue past the point of no return, Jack tried to say one last thing about it before making Buck so uncomfortable that he would never confide in him again.
“Listen, I won’t pry anymore about that stuff, but you have got to end this before it takes a turn for the worse. You can’t get involved like this. Just appreciate their alter personalities from afar and call it a day. In the end, these people will never be able to give back completely. They can’t return the love you feel for them because they don’t exist…” He paused to clear his throat as he turned away from Buck to get his shit together before emotions overwhelmed him again. He certainly did not want to be a skinny old man, blubbering on a bench in a vineyard. His dry cotton mouth, a precursor to tears, almost choked him, but he took a deep breath to curb the welling. “And Ignacio is fading. She is taking over; that’s why they are here, buddy. They need help, but they also need a pla
ce to grow old happily, or the best they can anyway, with their alters. Or in Ignacio’s case, as his alter. You want to be happy here... You want them to be happy here, right? Then leave this alone, because you cannot comprehend the pain of the fade.”
Tears brimmed at the edge of Jack’s lower lids, but he tried to laugh, shaking out the unmanly feelings with nervous and poorly timed bursts of sounds. “This place is like a no-kill shelter for animals if you want to be politically incorrect. It’s fucked up to say that, but it’s the truth. Jill and I...and the staff here, have difficult jobs taking care of these people.” He looked at Buck, who was intently listening to his every word. “It’s not easy, Buck, and I get why you feel pressure to share yourself with someone here. But you shouldn’t, and you know that.” Jack shook his head and let his eyes wander off into the distance. “But you shouldn’t. That’s why we pay well and have the unconventional environment that we do.”
Buck’s chin slightly pushed back into his neck in disagreement over this last comment about pay. Jack sat up, then forward, resting his elbows on the edge of his knees. “Eh, don’t give me no shit about your pay, buddy.” He laughed to shake off the seriousness of the conversation. Not even his favorite employee needed to see his sensitive side. “If you want my advice, end this relationship and we won’t tell Jill. If it doesn’t go well, we will move Ignacio back into the clinical corner of the mansion.”
Buck was surprised that the concern Jack Reed showed with such conviction and passion seemed to be reserved for the facility as a whole, and not the individuals within it. So Buck, never one to back down when it came to patients’ rights, had to remind his boss, “Now, ya’ll know that is like solitary confinement with perks. I’ve told you the patients are not happy when they are there. I know I wouldn’t want to be trapped in a place like that, no matter how much exercise and alternative therapies my schedule was filled with. I’d come out of there bat shit crazy, I think. That’s probably why he was released into general population thinking he was his own damn mom! I mean, ya’ll had him in there for years!” In frustration, Buck pulled out his little jar of Carmex from his pants pocket. As he applied the warmed jelly to his cold lips, his heart broke for what he knew he had to do regarding Ignacio. His sighs were deep and heavy, just as it was with the weight of the burden on his chest. He mumbled as he finally owned up to what was really going on by saying it aloud. “I’m in love. Shit.”
