It would have been so simple if I could just fall in love with her. None of these nagging doubts would exist, and both our families would be ecstatic. Instead, I always felt guilty after we’d been together, knowing I’d used her to get off.
Our fathers were good friends, part of the tight-knit community in Folsom who worked at the prison. When they noticed Nikki’s interest in me, they practically set a wedding date, not even bothering to see how I felt about it. They just assumed the feelings were mutual, and after a certain point I didn’t bother to set them straight.
Nikki was the only one who knew that I didn’t love her that way. I cared for her as much as I cared for my brothers. It was a familial love, only with benefits.
The guilt weighed heavily that morning, thinking about all we’d done last night. The worst part was the fact that I’d been fucking someone else in my head, someone who would probably never want to see or talk to me again after my spectacular fumble at the restaurant.
It was a beautiful Sunday morning, and I headed for the track, for my usual five miles until the sweat poured off. Physical work banished the demons that had resided in my head for more years than I could remember.
After checking the glove compartment to see that my wallet was in its usual place, I decided to make a coffee stop on my way home, choosing to go to Andronico’s instead of Starbucks. My refrigerator was empty, so I headed toward my favorite store, mentally going over the things I needed to buy. I glanced up at the mirror and saw that I looked halfway decent, even though my hair was still wet and plastered to my skull. I ran my fingers through the bone-straight hair and fluffed it up a little so I didn’t look like I just got out of the shower. My eyes were more green than blue today, a phenomenon that I lived with. The ever-changing hues were dependent on my mood and always a good topic of conversation.
I grabbed a cart and headed up the aisles, picking cans and boxes off the shelves and tossing them in without much thought. I was hoping not to forget anything, but I knew better. I’d probably overlook the most important thing.
I turned the corner, heading up to the food court, and almost ran into Jody Williams and a companion. The shock of seeing him close after dreaming about him the prior night threw me for a moment, and I stammered out a greeting.
“Hi, Jody. How’s it going?”
“It’s all good,” he replied, barely cracking a smile. “This is my friend, Lil Lampert.” His lanky companion was Jody’s direct opposite in appearance, towering over him by at least five inches. While one looked completely straight and professional, the other could have been a poster boy for San Francisco’s Castro Street and all it stood for. He was wearing a lime-green T-shirt and orange cutoffs with the requisite matching orange Crocs. His spiked brown hair had red, gold, and silver streaks, and, of course, the gold hoop in his left ear completed the picture.
“I’m a big fan,” he said, sticking his hand out for me to shake it. It was surprisingly firm, not what I expected.
“You know football?” I asked stupidly, wanting to kick myself again. I seemed to be digging my hole deeper and deeper with regards to Jody.
“Don’t look so surprised! Some of us Nelly queens actually enjoy sports,” he replied, looking at me in amusement. He probably thought I was an idiot as well. God only knew what Jody had told him about last night’s dinner conversation.
“You guys live around here?” I asked. “I don’t recall seeing you at this store before.”
“I do,” Jody replied. “I live up the hill near the Claremont Hotel.”
“I live in San Francisco, but then I’m sure you already figured that out,” Lil said pointedly.
“What brings you our way?” Berkeley and San Francisco were worlds apart even though we were neighbors.
“Oh, I come out every other weekend to spend Sundays with Jody. If I didn’t do that, he’d shrivel up and die without ever seeing sunlight. All he does is work.”
“Shut up, Lil.” Jody smiled at him, the accompanying dimple finally showing up as well. “Lil and I were roommates in college,” Jody continued. “But now he’s decided he’s my mother.”
“Well, someone has to take care of this boy, since he won’t do it himself,” Lil said, lowering his voice to a whisper, as if Jody weren’t there. “He’s all about taking care of others, you know. The great healer who ignores his own need.”
“Gotcha. Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your shopping,” I said, trying to move my cart around them.
“It was nice meeting you, Clark,” Lil threw out as I passed him by.
“Same here.”
I walked away from them, feeling their eyes boring into my backside. I turned back for a moment as they walked off, Lil’s arm draped loosely across Jody’s shoulders, which were broader and more muscular than I ever remembered them to be. If fact, everything about his body was quite a surprise, once he removed his scrubs and other work attire. His legs were lean and well formed, tanned a golden brown, despite Lil’s remarks about Jody not seeing any sunlight. He was wearing Spandex biker shorts and a skin tight T-shirt that left little to the imagination. I couldn’t stop staring.
JODY was at the checkout stand unloading his cart while Lil flipped through the pages of the National Enquirer. “He’s better-looking in person,” Lil said out loud.
“I know! It’s criminal that anyone should look like that,” Jody answered, stacking his groceries on the moving belt.
“You know he’s bent, don’t you?”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“I saw him checking out your ass.”
“You’re delusional.”
“No, Jodes, you are.”
Jody looked at his best friend and frowned. “Do you really think so, because I was picking up a signal too, but I thought I might be imagining it?”
“Honey, you’re not imagining anything.”
“Well, if he’s gay, he’s got some major issues he needs to deal with.”
“No doubt.”
“I’m not wasting any energy on this.”
“Methinks thou doth protest too much,” Lil said pointedly.
Jody stuck his tongue out at his best friend, and Lil let out a loud cackle that reverberated throughout the store.
Chapter 3
A WEEK passed before I saw the sexy doc again.
I was back in the emergency room, sitting in the small cubicle I’d sat in before. “What are you doing here?” Jody asked, obviously surprised to see me again.
I had hoped there would be another doctor on duty, but of course that hope died as soon as he walked in. “I had a fight with an immovable object, and I lost.”
“What?”
“Oh, forget about it! Just look at this and tell me it’s all good.” I stuck my right hand out, practically shoving it in his face. The only reason I was here was because one of the coaches witnessed my meltdown and insisted that I have it examined.
Jody sighed deeply, and he reached out. “Let me see.”
I reluctantly placed my hand in his, noticing how his eyes were more caramel than chocolate today, and he had that scruffy five o’clock shadow, even though it was only three in the afternoon. He was even hotter than the last time I saw him. He bit his lower lip as he examined me, and I tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him.
“This one isn’t broken, but your knuckles look like ground beef. What did you hit again?”
“My locker.”
“Why?”
“You’d never understand.”
“Try me.”
“It’s a school thing. I got a note from the English department, and I kind of lost it.”
“What did they want?”
“To tell me that I’m about to flunk a required class, and if I didn’t get my ass in gear, I may not fucking graduate, let alone play football. Not that I can right now,” Clark observed, “but that’s beside the point.”
“I see.”
“How could you possibly? You’re a fucking genius w
ho went to Stanford.”
“Clark,” he said, putting his hand on my knee, “you need to calm down.”
I looked up at the ceiling and silently cursed the tears of frustration that always showed up at the worst fucking time. I swiped at them angrily. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jody said gently. “Why don’t we talk about this?”
“No!”
“Why not? How can I help if I don’t know what’s going on?”
“You can’t do anything, Jody. I’m a goddamn loser.”
“Hey, come on now,” Jody said, looking surprised by my words. “You’re Clark Stevens, football star. That doesn’t sound like loser to me.”
“Maybe not in football, but I’m definitely a loser in other areas of my life.”
“Tell me,” he said, coaxing it out of me.
“I’ve got ADD, you know, attention deficit.”
“I know what it is, Clark. It’s not the end of the world.”
“It is if you can’t pass a fucking English class!”
“Do you have a problem with reading or retention?”
“Both! The reading makes me sleepy so then I zone out and forget everything I’ve read. It’s always been an issue.”
“There are drugs to help with this problem.”
“I know, but my father never wanted me to take them.”
“Why the hell not?”
“He said they’d stunt my growth.”
“Bullshit!”
“He said they would make me stupider than I already am.”
“Your father said this?” Jody was clearly shocked by that statement. “Where did he ever get that idea?”
“I’m not sure. Probably from one of his friends.”
“Didn’t your parents ever take you to see a legitimate doctor? He would have set them straight about the medication.”
“They did, except the bottom line was my football career. My father didn’t want anything to affect it, and since this problem of mine never surfaced while I was playing football, he chose to ignore it, hoping it would go away.”
“Oh, that was really brilliant on his part. Didn’t he realize it was only going to get worse?”
“No, he thought that if he screamed loud enough and pushed hard enough, I’d get my head out of my ass and pass my classes.”
“I swear, some people should never become parents,” Jody muttered under his breath.
“Hey,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm. “He did what he thought was the right thing. I’ve made it this far, something I never thought I’d be able to do.”
“You have a natural gift, Clark. Your father had nothing to do with it.”
“If I’d gone on the drugs, I may not have developed to my full potential. Who knows?”
“You’re buying into his bullshit as well.”
“Will you just patch me up and let me go?”
“What’s the point? You’ll be back here again after another temper tantrum.”
I turned away from him and looked out the small window. The frustration was getting to me again, compounded by intense shame, made worse by the hot tears that blinked out of my eyes.
“Clark, look at me.” Jody cupped my face and wiped the tears away with his thumb. “I’m going to help you.”
“How?” It seemed like an impossible task.
“I’ll tutor you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ll get you through this. I can’t believe he didn’t let you go on the meds.”
“Don’t start again.”
“I won’t. I’ll drop it for now, but this is not over.”
“Thank you.” I looked into his eyes, sure that I’d see pity or scorn. Instead, I only saw concern, which made me more grateful.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly. “Come to my house tomorrow night and bring your books. In the meantime, put that paw of yours on ice and try not to lose your temper again.”
“Yes, sir,” I agreed, easily responding to his gentle, but firm, bedside manner. I wrote down his address, and we settled on eight o’clock. I left the hospital a much calmer man than I had entered it.
JODY stood at the entrance of the ER, watching Clark leave. He turned and went into his office and poured a cup of the sludge they called coffee, grimacing after taking a sip. He swallowed it just the same, knowing there wasn’t anything better in the cafeteria.
He shook his head in disgust, thinking about all the things that Clark had revealed to him. The damage that some parents caused in the name of love or good intentions was enough to make him want to quit his job sometimes. He’d seen it all at this place: people who were victims of physical and mental abuse, yet somehow, human nature continued to surprise him with its resilience. Listening to Clark defend his father’s actions had not come as a shock. He’d stood over countless victims who were battered and broken, who continued to defend abusers, thinking somehow that they deserved it. And why was it always the beautiful ones who seemed especially susceptible?
He couldn’t get over Clark’s father arbitrarily deciding to keep him off the medication for attention deficit disorder. Even though it wasn’t a cure, it offered relief, helping people to focus and function in a world many considered overwhelming. That Clark had been able to get this far without drugs spoke volumes of his tenacity, but at what price? He was obviously very fragile with regards to his mental ability, clearly impressed when he’d heard that Jody had gone to Stanford.
This made Clark even more appealing. The combination of beauty and vulnerability created an irresistible pull. Jody had never been able to say no to anyone in need, but he wondered if he was making a big mistake in offering to tutor Clark. Were his motives purely altruistic or was he honest enough to admit he was jonesing for the man in a big way. Clark had been on his mind ever since they first met, and the physical attraction was getting worse instead of better. The icing on the cake was this new development. Now he was even more attracted, the healer in him galloping to the rescue.
Lil would argue that it was more than that. He would tell him to walk away from another lost cause. Clark had more baggage than Jody could handle. Being a closet case was bad enough, but a jock on the verge of an NFL career was a recipe for disaster. Adding the ADHD to the mix was a trifecta of loss. Lil would probably go through the roof!
They’d both seen friends crash and burn when forced out of the closet. No amount of convincing or support would help. It was a personal decision that every gay man had to deal with at some point in his life. Somehow though, Jody didn’t think that Clark was anywhere close to dealing with his internal struggles. He wondered if he ever would be.
The phone rang, snapping him out of his melancholia, the business of patching up broken bodies grounding him again. He spoke into the receiver, telling whoever was on the other line that he’d be there in five minutes.
TRAFFIC was snarled at Telegraph and Ashby. I waited for the gridlock to break up, the sounds of Linkin Park coming through the speakers, telling me that in the end, nothing really matters. Ironic words after the trauma of the past few hours. My conversation with Jody kept replaying in my head. Even though I’d defended my dad, I knew that his refusal to put me on drugs was a mistake. The wounds from my brothers’ jeers and taunts were still fresh in my brain. The sense of failure whenever I was unable to do my schoolwork always outweighed any sense of accomplishment on the football field. I envied people who could read a book without nodding off. I wanted to be the person teachers called on, knowing they’d get the right answer. Instead, I’d always sit at the back of the class and pray they wouldn’t notice me.
My frustrations drove me to act out at an early age. I was well known for my short fuse and accompanying fits of anger. My brothers would call me Clark the Spark, always waiting to see what I’d destroy during a temper tantrum. The doctors had advised my parents to sign me up for some physical activity to give me the release I needed. The end result was football, a sport I seemed to be well suited for. The
double-edged sword was that my father balked at giving me the medication I needed because of my prowess on the football field.
The only time I felt good about myself was when I was in uniform. It was also when my brothers started to give me some modicum of respect and lighten up on the insults. They knew I had more talent in my little finger than all four of them rolled together, so they watched in silent disbelief as I decimated my opponents on the field.
I had found my calling in a big way. Everyone’s opinion of me shifted, and I was no longer called the family dummy. I still had problems with attention, even on the football field, but in that environment, it was something I could control. So long as I knew exactly where I needed to be at a given time, I could complete the task.
Off the field, I continued to flounder. My brain just didn’t work the way it should. I would forget things half the time, unable to get from point A to point B without getting lost somewhere along the way. I had a hell of a time finishing anything, such as laundry. My clothes were always appearing a day or two later, after someone found them abandoned in the dryer. Going to the store without a list was a big deal. Remembering where I put the list was a fucking joke. I’d always start out doing one thing and then get distracted by a tangent along the way.
School was a primary and perpetual source of tension. In high school, the teachers watched out for me, thanks to the badgering of the football coaches. I became one of the “special” kids who were babied along. A lot of teachers turned a blind eye to my shortcomings for the sake of the team. This was an all too common occurrence; I would come to find out. I wasn’t the only one who had issues with learning and attention, but the old misery loves company attitude failed to make me feel any better.
I SPENT the next day in a state of high anticipation, regularly checking and rechecking my answering machine to make sure Jody hadn’t called to say he’d changed his mind. My backpack was loaded with books and note pads to make sure I had everything I needed for our session tonight. Finally, when I could do no more, I left the apartment and went running again. I needed to stay focused and so far this was the only method that seemed to work.
Horizons Page 3
