by JF Smith
“Travis, look… you know it doesn’t make any difference to me.”
Travis refused to look at Baya. Instead, his bloody knuckles had become the most interesting thing in the world.
Baya said a little more firmly, “Mope! You’re gay. Big deal. It doesn’t change anything. You’re still Mope. You’re still the guy I stood back to back with and held off twenty insurgents outside Najaf for three hours until the cavalry showed up.”
Travis, on hearing the word said out loud, looked up. Baya stepped over to Travis and slapped him on the shoulder reassuringly.
Travis almost didn’t know what to say. So he kept it simple, “Thanks, Baya. Thanks.”
Baya left and was immediately replaced by Fincher, Rickey, and Dillinger in the room. They looked like soaking-wet shit. Fincher had a black eye. Rickey’s lip was busted open and bleeding down his wet shirt, and Dillinger had a cut and bruise over his right eye. For three big men that were normally fearless, they looked nervous as hell coming into the room with Matt.
Fincher was the one that spoke. “Matt, dude… shit… Matt, you got no idea how sorry we are. You know we never would have horsed around like that if we had known you couldn’t swim, right?”
“I know,” said Matt. “I played it down because I didn’t want to be a downer today. It’s more my fault than anybody’s.”
Dillinger’s jaw set firmly. “No, it’s not. Matt, you’re as much a part of this team as anybody else at this point, and we always put responsibility where it belongs. Rickey, me, and Fincher… we’re not stupid kids and we shouldn’t have assumed you knew how to swim. We are sorry, though.”
Rickey stepped into the head and spit out a mouthful of blood into the lavatory. He grabbed some toilet paper while in there to hold against his lip. When he came back out, he grinned and said, “We got our asses handed to us for doing it, though. And Petey doesn’t have a scratch on him, the bastard. I gotta say, I don’t want to get in a fistfight with Petey in the water again. I’ll probably be asking his permission next time I even want to shake your hand, Matt.”
Matt laughed a little. “Sorry. Yeah, I guess somewhere along the way he turned a little protective.”
Dillinger took some of the toilet paper from Rickey and held it on the cut over his eye. “A little?!” he exclaimed. “Your little brother is as mean as a fucking wombat!”
Fincher shuffled his feet and said, “Mope, thanks for pulling Matt through. We all owe you for that one, man.”
Travis nodded at them.
“But, I guess you got a good reason to save him, don’t you?”
Travis flinched slightly at the comment, but nodded again.
The conversation paused uncomfortably, and Travis’ heart started to sink a little.
Dillinger was the one that eventually said, “We’ll keep it quiet, Mope. We need you on the team and don’t want some pissy two-star bringing in someone that we don’t know, don’t want, and that doesn’t fit with us.”
That made Travis feel much better, and he even managed a feeble smile at them. They each stepped over to give Travis a fist bump, and then rubbed Matt on his head before leaving the room again.
Over the next thirty minutes, the guys came through, a few at a time, to check on Matt. And they all, without exception, reassured Travis that it didn’t matter to them that he was gay. Kennon, Marshall, and Geoff came in, followed by Ambush and Wes. Then Crank.
Travis found out that Crank practically grew up in a gay household. Both of his uncles were gay and had long-term partners. Growing up, they were always his babysitters and the family he stayed with when his parents went on trips. Crank was downright enthusiastic to find out about Mope, even wanting to know if he and Matt were going to get gay married at some point. Travis looked nervously all around the room before saying it was a little early to be picking out china patterns and toaster ovens, which made Matt laugh.
Wyatt and Jonas came through after Crank. Jonas was more concerned about the boat. He took one look at the big holes in the wall and put his hands on top of his head and panicked. “Jesus, Mope! Did you have to go punching your fist through the damn hull? Man, look at those holes! Broussard is gonna poop himself when he sees that! We’re gonna have to start putting down a security deposit! Couldn’t you have punched one of the pillows or Wyatt or something?”
Wyatt, though, was one of the ones Travis worried about. He had heard Wyatt say some annoying things about gays in the past. It had been a while, and he had been pretty good to Matt, but he still worried about Wyatt’s reaction.
Wyatt said, “You know. Back earlier this year, I woulda probably had a problem finding out about you, Mope. But Matt’s softened me up, I think. It was good to see a gay guy that didn’t fit my mold of what gays were like. Made me think that it wasn’t what all I had been taught growing up. You ain’t gotta worry about me, Mope. We gotta look out for our own, and you’re still a part of this team.”
Desantos was the last one Travis worried about. He finally came through by himself. He didn’t have a lot to say, but he got right to the point.
“Mope, I’m still not sure what to think about homosexuality, and I don’t pretend to understand where it comes from. But I guess if I had to pick two guys that I think are pretty decent for each other, I suppose it would be you two.”
Travis didn’t want to beat around the bush any more, with any of them. He asked him, “You gonna rat me out, Desantos?”
“You know me, Mope. I have my beliefs, but I don’t judge.”
Desantos left and Travis expected Wasp and Colorado to make some kind of appearance. He especially expected Petey to come in and check on Matt. But after a few minutes, they were still in the cabin alone. In a way Travis was glad to just sit quietly. Everything today had wound up happening so fast late in the day, and he had a lot to think about. Matt was ok, sitting next to Travis on the floor holding his hand, occasionally coughing to get rid of the last of the seawater, but otherwise quiet. And now the bulk of the team had seemed to accept a gay Travis, even after what they had witnessed up on deck. Travis didn’t know what forces worked in the world to bring him this kind of luck, but he felt like he was using a lifetime’s worth in one day. But if he was going to use it all up, today was the day.
A change in heading and engine noise let Travis know that they must be pulling into the marina. He felt a little bit of an obligation to go up top to help secure the boat, but then there were fifteen sailors up topside already that knew what they were doing. Plus, Matt seemed to be content to just sit and rest quietly after almost being lost at sea. He didn’t want to leave Matt alone, so he stayed right where he was.
Eventually, after the engines stopped completely, Jonas leaned into the stateroom and said, “All ashore that’s going ashore. We’ve still got the shrimp boil, so we’ll see you guys over there.”
He glanced again over at the holes in the bulkhead and said, dejected, “Man, Broussard is gonna kill me!”
Once alone again, Travis told Matt, “Let’s go back to my place. We don’t have to do this tonight. You’ve been through a lot, and honestly, so have I.”
Travis stood up to get his rucksack put together, stowing Matt’s wet clothes in it. He put his own damp shirt back on.
Much to Travis’ surprise, Matt said, “No.”
Travis’ eyes raked over Matt, sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him. Matt’s eyes were firm, but Travis saw the care and love behind them. He stared at Matt a moment, trying to understand.
“No, we’re going to the beach.”
Travis couldn’t believe Matt wanted to make this day any longer than it already was.
“Matt, you’ve probably had the second worst day of your life today. Let’s just be done with it.”
“No, we’re not finished with this. You’re not finished with this and we need to go. Something’s still not sitting right, and we need to see this through. I’m fine and I’ll be on dry land.”
Travis wondered i
f there was any end to how much Matt could amaze him. But the beach trip was unnecessary. He knew Matt was worried about Petey, but the three of them could talk tomorrow.
Matt seemed to know Travis was about to open his mouth, so he said, “We’re going, or I’m going without you.”
Travis couldn’t argue with that.
Chapter 37 – Sea, Air, Land, Fire
There’s something intrinsically peaceful about sitting out on a beach at night with a warm breeze, a crackling fire in front of you and the eternally repeating sound of tidal water just out of the reach of the dancing firelight. Sea, air and land. It’s hard to worry about the future when you’ve got a moment like this surrounding you and the rest of time can be put on hold for just a little bit. It’s like taking the rest of the world, holding it in the palm of your hand and putting it down in your pocket. You’ll pull it back out at some point, but until then you can forget about it and just be. Be in the sand, in the sea breeze, in the flickering fire, under the starlight.
After the day he had had, Travis felt much calmer. After the night before, seeing the disappointment in Matt’s face, he was regaining the peace he had slept without. He just wished it was complete.
All seventeen men had sprinkled themselves around the fire, having had their fill of a huge pot of the shrimp boil that was their tradition for many years running now. Crank was noodling softly on his guitar again, but not any particular tune. Beach guitar jazz, he called it. Some were talking and laughing in low voices, smoking on the shitty cigars that Marshall always seemed to be pushing on all of them. A few others were roasting marshmallows over the open fire, like big kids. That is, after giving Ambush a hard time and telling him the marshmallows were way better than the stringy possum and rabbit he usually caught for them to cook and eat while out on survival.
Travis lay in the sand, legs stretched out and facing towards the fire, and leaning against one of the logs they had pulled around for the evening on their favorite quiet spot on Chick’s Beach, down near Lynnhaven Inlet. He could see the lights from a few boats dotting the darkness, out off the coast. Matt was right next to him, side to side pressed up against him, comfortable, warm, and safe. He had kept close to Matt all night, partly because he didn’t want to let Matt out of his sight anymore, and partly because he didn’t quite know how to act around the team. For such a little thing, it felt very strange to Travis to be able to do this openly now in front of these guys. But, none of them seemed to really even notice. None of the guys focused on them, but they didn’t avoid or ignore them, either. They all seemed to be keeping their promises from the boat earlier.
Travis felt like the rest of the world could be safely put away in his pocket for a little while. Except, not quite. He didn’t know what to do about Wasp and Petey. What had come to light on the boat earlier was still between them, like a scab. It kept bothering him, and he didn’t know if he should pick at it or leave it alone.
Neither of them had barely been able to look at Matt or Travis since getting off the boat. Both had come to the beach, but they had stayed to themselves, not really interacting with anyone, their minds occupied with the day.
Travis was tired and wanted to finish it. He wanted to know where he stood with Keith and Petey. He just didn’t know if should pick at the scab or not.
He was a little surprised at how tired he was. He wasn’t used to feeling exhausted like this. Travis could endure a tremendous amount, but the emotional toll of the day had left him drained. Two weeks earlier, he had stood completely motionless on a pressure-release trigger attached to a bomb for nearly three hours, in a dark cave, near Asadabad, in those god-forsaken mountains of Afghanistan. He and some of the others were checking a cave network the Taliban had recently been routed from. The things were rife with booby traps and Travis felt the trigger as soon as he stepped on it. If he moved just the wrong way, the trigger would trip and he’d be blown to chowder. None of the other guys were nearby, and it took an hour and a half for Wasp to finally hear him yelling and locate him. Then another hour for Wasp to get Crank so he could disable the bomb. Most of them could have probably done it, but Crank was the best at it. Travis stood motionless until Crank showed up, whistling a tune and casually asking why he had stepped on it, as if Travis had done it on purpose. Travis would have smacked him upside the head if he could have reached him without moving his foot. This was the kind of stuff he didn’t dare tell Matt about. But now, after the last couple of days, he might change his mind. He trusted Matt, they all did, and trying to insulate Matt was starting to seem like a bad decision.
He could handle that kind of stress well, but today had been entirely different.
He wondered why it was that Keith and Petey seemed to be the ones that wound up having a problem with him being gay. Something felt broken with them now. He lay in the sand, fretting about it. Trying to decide if he should pick at the scab or not.
He glanced over and could tell Petey was watching the two of them, probably also trying to decide if he should pick at the scab or not.
When he looked back, he started to get a little nervous again. Wasp had now walked over to them and was hovering nearby, stubbing his big bare foot into the sand and looking everywhere except Travis and Matt.
Wasp’s round face finally settled on the two of them and he cleared his throat a little uncomfortably.
Matt sat up some against the log and said carefully, “Hey, Wasp.”
Wasp took a step closer and looked for everything like a ten year old kid in a hulk’s body.
“Hey… uh, Matt. You doing ok?”
Matt nodded and said, “Still on borrowed time.” Travis grinned grimly without looking over at Matt.
Wasp said, “Good. I guess.” His brow was deeply furrowed, his hands were shoved down in the pockets on his dark plaid shorts, and he was still nervously toeing the sand.
Matt looked up at Wasp looking at Travis and said, “I’m gonna go see if Jonas needs any help putting stuff up.” He got up to go help. Travis growled quietly, deep in his chest, at Matt being that far away from him, but let him go.
Wasp came over and sat down in the sand next to Travis, his thick legs crossed in front of him. Travis decided to let him have his say since he had come over, but he found it hard to look Wasp in the eye. So, he stared at the crackling, spitting fire instead.
Wasp didn’t say anything for a while and the only sound was Crank’s soft guitar, the ocean and the sound of insects.
Wasp said, “I won’t be able to stay on the team, you know.”
Travis’ heart sank. It sank like a chunk of lead thrown overboard.
Why do you have to do this, Keith?
It disappointed Travis so much to hear this, made him feel like a failure. He had put a lot into trying to get Keith past the death of the Marine. Keith had an amazing solider inside of him if he could just get his confidence back and let that soldier out. But now, to have him wind up wanting out because Travis turned out gay? Travis didn’t think he could stand by and watch that kind of talent go to waste. Travis thought that maybe, despite how it hurt deep down, he needed to get out of the way for the sake of the team. They’d be better off without him, without the disruption and distraction.
“Keith…” Travis tried to speak through the cotton-mouth he suddenly found he had.
“Keith… I’m ready for the sacrifices I need to make. And the team is important to me. I’ll back out.”
Wasp picked at a shell in the sand next to his feet.
“It was good while it lasted, I guess,” said Wasp in tired surrender.
Travis started to feel an odd peace. It started in the pit of his chest, and worked its way out from there. It had been foolish to get his hopes up that he might be able to make it work. That maybe the only person on the team afraid of him being gay, in the end, was himself. But if that wasn’t to be, then he’d bow out and wish the team luck. He’d find something else, somewhere.
Travis agreed. “Yeah. I can’t complain about
the good run I had.”
Wasp looked over at Travis, still turning the small shell over and over in his thick, tan hands. “The stupid thing is that I think I was finally kind of accepting it. The thing with the Marine. You… Matt… you guys had helped me turn a corner with it. Well, that and the fact that, for whatever reason, Colorado’s stopped grinding my ass about it. I… well, never mind.”
Travis couldn’t help but think this felt a little like Wasp was twisting a knife in him now. All the support over the friendly fire incident was great, until Wasp found out Travis was gay.
Travis scratched at his nose, uncomfortable even talking to Wasp any more. “Well, now I’ll be out of the way, and you can be the SEAL you were meant to be.”
Wasp looked over at him oddly. He looked confused, but Travis wasn’t really looking at him anymore. He stared at the heart of the firelight and wanted to be alone. Well, no. He didn’t want to be alone. What he really wanted was for Wasp to go away and for Matt to come back.
Wasp said, “I said, I wouldn’t be able to stay.”
Travis wondered if Wasp was just trying to rub it in. He looked over at Wasp, about to tell him to just leave, but he saw the confusion on Wasp’s face instead.
“Yeah, I know, so I said I’d be the one to leave instead,” explained Travis.
“And if you go, then I go, too.”
That hadn’t been what he said earlier.
“Huh?” said Travis.
“Mope, if you leave, then I don’t think I have it in me to stay on the team. You’re the only reason I’ve been able to hold on this long.”
Travis suddenly felt like they were having two completely different conversations.
“I thought you were saying that since you found out I’m… gay… that you’d didn’t want to be on the team,” he said.
Wasp shook his head. “No, I thought… what the hell are we talking about?”
Travis started to speak, but Wasp interrupted him. “I thought you were going to leave because you didn’t want to be on the team, you know, having figured out you’re gay. That you’d want to be with Matt or something. And if you go, then I go.”