by Joel Skelton
This month’s edition didn’t disappoint. A feature on rodeo stars and what they do to stay in shape caused his jeans to tighten.
I’m going to have a man like this someday if it kills me.
Engrossed by a picture of a blond cowboy smiling down from the saddle, he was startled when he discovered someone standing next to him. Where the hell did you come from? Unsure of what to do, he placed the magazine back in its spot and took out, only because it was close by, the latest Birds and Blooms. The stranger snapped up his copy of Men’s Physique. When it became obvious the man was not going anywhere soon, Alex stuffed the stupid nature magazine back in the rack and headed for the door, frustrated to have his fantasy time halted.
“You leaving already, Alex?” Norbert asked as he handed change over to Mrs. Crawford, Bud Crawford’s widow.
“Catch ya later, Norbert.”
Stepping into the parking lot, he contemplated driving over to the Pamida in Two Harbors but, with gas prices on the rise, thought better of it. He walked over to his car, but before he had a chance to get in, he was surprised to see the same man who had stood so close to him at the magazine rack, headed in his direction. Although he hadn’t had the courage to look at the man’s face, he recognized the burgundy jacket he was wearing. The guy smiled at him as he crossed in front of Zits and walked over to a dark blue Range Rover.
I wonder how old he is? Maybe thirty-five, tops? He’s still in pretty good shape.
He climbed into his car and chanced another glance in the direction of the Rover. The man seated behind the wheel smiled. Alex could feel his face flush. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Curious and faced with going home as his only other option, he pretended to organize some papers lying on the seat next to him to buy some time to figure out what was up. When he thought enough time had passed, he looked up. The guy was still there, still smiling. He smiled back. The man rolled down his window and motioned for Alex to do the same.
Okay, I’ll play along.
“Hey, what’s going on?” the guy called out after he had rolled down his window.
“Nothin’ much.” Every nerve in his body was on high alert.
“Same here. Are you up for anything?” The man poked his head out of the window.
He was up for plenty but wasn’t sure how to respond. Alex liked what he saw. The guy was good-looking. His hair, how it was cut short like a Marine, was a plus. Alex had a thing for that Marine look. “Depends. What did you have in mind?” Alex tried to sound calm even though his body was beginning to vibrate with anticipation. His face and neck were hot.
“We could drive around for a bit. Get to know each other.” The man smiled and winked.
“I’m kinda short on gas.” If this guy is so eager, let him pay for the gas.
“No problem. I just filled up. Come on over and hop in.”
Even though he knew what he was about to do was very wrong, he couldn’t stop himself. He got out of the car, turned in a three sixty to make sure he wasn’t being watched, then walked in the direction of the Rover. When he arrived at the passenger side, the man reached over and opened the door for him.
“I’m Mike, by the way.” The man’s eyes were kind.
“I’m Alex.” He closed the door and reached for the seat belt. Dummy! Why did you tell him your real name?
“I never venture off the highway. Maybe you know some cool side roads or a spot we can drive to and talk… talk with some privacy. There’s probably a good hour of light left before the sun sets.”
He buckled up. Mike’s car was clean. And he smelled good too. Where could we go to… talk?
“Got any ideas?” Mike adjusted a dial on the dashboard. A gentle, steady flow of air began to blow out of the vents.
Alex thought for a second, and then he had it. “Yeah, I think I know of a place. Turn left onto the highway, and we’ll head back toward the palisade.” Mike followed his directions, and after they were about a mile or so away from Norbert’s, he signaled to turn off the highway onto a dirt road leading down toward the lake.
“This might not work, but it looks okay for now,” Alex cautioned, not having been down to the abandoned cabins since last fall. He wasn’t sure what condition the road would be in.
“As long as we aren’t plowing through deep snow, we should be all right. This buggy has really good traction. Where’re we goin’?” Mike slapped the steering wheel, obviously fired up.
“The old Palisade Beach Cabins.” He looked over to see if it met with Mike’s approval. “They’ve been abandoned for years. Went under when they were redoing the highway and putting in the tunnels. Tourists stopped coming for a while until the road work was completed. The owners couldn’t hold on.”
“Sounds perfect. Hey, I’m curious. How old are you?”
“I was eighteen in January,” Alex lied. He knew why the dude was asking and wondered if the guy would’ve asked him to leave if he’d said seventeen. Probably not.
“Really? That’s what I was hoping you’d say. I was thirty-two in January. January thirteenth.”
“January fifteenth.” Alex tried as hard as he could to own his lie.
“Capricorns. Put it there, fellow Cappy!”
He accepted Mike’s hand and shook it. It was a strong, warm hand. He felt the butterflies reappear.
“I don’t know what it is about the spring air,”—Mike’s casual adjustment of his crotch wasn’t lost on Alex—“but it makes me crazy, if you know what I mean. I’m on the road most of the week, and I get really starved for some… company.”
He felt the tightness in his jeans reappear. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand Mike was admitting he was horny. Something was going to happen if Alex agreed to play along.
Colin’s got Sarah. Why shouldn’t I have some fun too? Nobody’s gonna find out, parked way the hell back here.
“When you get up to this hill, veer over to the left. If the snow isn’t too deep, there’s a place to park behind the office with a view of the palisade and the lake.”
Mike followed his directions and parked when they had reached their destination. “Wow, that’s a big chunk of rock, isn’t it?”
Alex never tired of the view from here. The palisade, an immense lava formation, was one of the largest on the North Shore. The huge rock loomed over them, making him feel like an ant. From its top, you could look out and, on a clear day, see the south shore of Superior along with a few of the Apostle Islands.
“You’re very good-looking. I bet you hear that all the time. Those green eyes of yours are killer.” Mike turned in the wide seat to face him.
He blushed. He wondered how this was going to play out. “Thanks! So are you.” He began to wonder if he’d stumbled upon his cowboy.
“What sports are you in?” Mike asked, inching over.
“Wrestling.”
“I played football, and for a couple of seasons I was on the golf team. I enjoy sports. You look like you take good care of yourself.”
Alex didn’t know how to respond, so he waited to see if Mike had any more questions.
“I’m doing all the talking here.” Mike’s hand brushed against Alex’s knee. “What do you like to do?”
I wish I knew.
“What do you like to do?” he countered, thinking it best to let this guy take the lead.
“Well.” Mike’s hand slid past his knee and inched slowly up his thigh. “It looks like you’ve got some action going on in there.”
He felt a tremor of anticipation rocket through his body when Mike’s hand brushed over the bulge in his jeans. “I can help you out with this if you want me to.”
He closed his eyes as the man’s hand gently petted his crotch. “Okay.” He gulped.
“Sit back and relax. We’re in no rush,” Mike whispered.
He pushed back into the seat. Looking down, he watched Mike’s hand inch its way to the zipper of his jeans.
IAN flew into the office. Andy was seated behind his d
esk. “Where’s your remote?”
“Excuse me? Oh I’m sorry, I thought this was my office. I get so confused some days.”
“Where’s your remote? Jasper Flynn is being sentenced as I speak.” He was at Andy’s mercy after conducting his own search.
“I haven’t seen you this worked up since your Bowflex video arrived. Here!” Andy unearthed the remote, which had been hidden under a pile of paperwork. “You’ll have to explain to me why this would be on television.”
“Harper thought the press might be looking for a comment from him after the sentencing.” Ian scurried out from behind the desk.
“Very well, then.” Andy returned to his paperwork.
Ian powered up the little television his best friend kept on a shelf in the corner. They had passed many a slow summer afternoon watching the Twins and sipping beers.
“What channel do you think it might be on?” He began a frantic search in hopes of locking on to live coverage from the courthouse.
“That’s a good question. You’ll have to bounce back and forth until you find the right one. I’m going to grab a soda. You want one?” Andy got up from his chair.
“Yes, please.” He did as Andy suggested. Ah, come on… Harper, where are you?
“Here.” Andy handed him a can and plopped back down in his desk chair.
“It’s after four. I’m not having any luck. Any other ideas? The judge was supposed to sentence him at four.” He refused to give up.
“Not really. Keep trying. Maybe they’ll cut to it once it’s all said and done.” Andy reached behind his chair and grabbed more paperwork.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Ian started at the beginning of the channel lineup. “Not on two, not on three, not on four, he’s not on five…. They should have a channel dedicated just to local news.”
“They do. Try channel eight.” Andy looked up from his work.
He landed on channel eight just in time to see the screen go from a car dealership commercial to a young blonde chick standing on the steps of the courthouse.
“Sources inside tell us Jasper Flynn has received the maximum sentence. If this is in fact accurate, there’s one thing we know for sure, Ted. Jasper Flynn is going to be behind bars for a very long time. Potentially the rest of his life.”
Back in the studio, Ted said, “Gina, we just confirmed Jasper Flynn has in fact been sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for masterminding one of the most despicable Ponzi schemes this area has ever seen,” Ted piped in enthusiastically.
Ian watched as the camera panned away from Gina to the doors of the courthouse as a steady stream of people exited and started down the steps.
“As we mentioned at the beginning of our broadcast,” Gina said, smiling into the camera, “we hope to have a few words from the attorneys involved as they leave the courthouse.”
As if choreographed, the second Gina finished speaking, Ian spotted Harper coming out the large expanse of doors.
“He doesn’t look very happy,” Andy said, taking a sip of his soda.
“Mr. Callahan! Mr. Callahan, could we get your reaction to today’s sentencing?”
Ian was bursting with pride. Harper looked movie-star handsome in the navy suit Ian had picked out for him to wear the night before.
“Harper let me pick out his suit and tie for today. Doesn’t he look hot?”
“When doesn’t that man look hot?” Andy leaned over his desk and pointed. “Hey, what’s with the bracelet? Did you leave your handbag out in the truck? Wait, let me see your shoes.”
“So not funny. It was a gift from my man. Oh look, Harper stopped in front of Gina.” Ian moved closer to the television.
“Did you expect this harsh of a sentence?” Gina stuck the microphone up to Harper’s lips. Ian licked his.
“As you can imagine, I'm very disappointed in the outcome. Jasper is a victim of the economy, and I would have hoped—”
“What happened to the sound?” Ian pressed the volume on the remote, but nothing happened.
“He just stopped talking. I still hear background.” Andy gestured for the remote.
“No, Phyllis! No—”
“Why is he holding his hand up like that?” He handed the remote back to Andy.
A loud pop rang out of the little television with surprising clarity.
“What was that?” Andy sat up in his chair.
Harper, displaying a surprised look on his face, staggered back a few steps, clutching his arm as others behind and around him scattered up the steps and out of view. Ian watched with growing horror as Harper, cradling his arm, glanced downward before dropping out of the camera frame entirely.
“I’ll drive.” Andy lunged for his keys.
I CAN’T believe this is happening. Please don’t let him be hurt too bad. Please don’t let him die.
Ian was stunned by what he’d witnessed on the television. The thought of Harper being injured, shot, propelled his mind in a million unwanted directions. “I’ve heard about this happening to other people.” Battling waves of anxiety and nausea, he looked out the window of Andy’s pickup as they pulled into the hospital’s parking ramp. “There was a wedding in Mankato a few summers back. The bride was killed in a car accident on the way over to the church. It was over before it started for them.” He turned to Andy, horrified by a thought that had just surfaced. “It was her. Phyllis Flynn. I bet she shot Harper.”
“We don’t know any details.” Andy reached over and patted him on the knee. Earlier, the radio in the truck had confirmed their worst fears—an attorney had been shot coming out of the courthouse and had been rushed to Hennepin County Medical Center. “Stay tuned to KLOY for the latest updates as this tragic story develops,” the announcer had encouraged.
“He’s lucky he was only a few blocks from HCMC.” Ian knew Andy was trying his best to remain positive.
Stepping out of the car, he discovered his legs were trembling so much he could hardly walk. Andy grabbed him by the arm, and they followed signs directing them to the emergency room entrance. Already news organizations were setting up remotes across the street.
“May I help you?” a guard asked as they entered through the automatic doors.
“We’re friends of Harper Callahan,” Andy told the man.
“The emergency area is a secured area. Please check in at the desk. They will direct you from there.”
“Hello, are you a patient or a visitor?” A woman looked up from her computer screen.
“We’re here to see Harper Callahan.” Andy assumed the role of spokesperson and stepped up to the desk. Ian had never felt this lost and helpless in his life.
“Yes, here he is. There’s a waiting area down this hall on the right. Either the charge nurse or the chaplain will update you on Mr. Callahan as soon as they are available.”
The chaplain? Oh God….
“Andy,” he whispered as they walked toward the banks of chairs outlining the waiting area, “she said the chaplain. You don’t think….” He thought he was going to throw up.
“I don’t know what to think, Ian. Let’s try and stay calm until we get more information.”
The waiting area was over half full of people from all walks of life. He tried not to stare, but a mother with an adorable little girl caught his attention and kept it. Maybe it was his mind’s way of providing a diversion to keep his nervous system from overloading. The little girl’s innocence paired with the stoicism of the mother fascinated him. He knew from the expression on Mom’s face something tragic was occurring outside of her control.
I don’t want to be here either. I’m so scared.
“It’s been about twenty-five minutes since….” Andy paused.
What had halted his friend’s comment? Always the strong one, the tremor of fear in his voice was uncharacteristic. “Twenty-five minutes since we left the shop,” Andy continued. “I wonder how long we’ll have to wait until someone updates us.”
“Part of me doesn’t want an upd
ate.” Ian reached for Andy’s hand and held it tight.
The emergency area was surprisingly calm. Nothing like you’d expect to see on television, he observed. There were a few people who looked distraught, but a few were actually smiling and happy. Occasionally there were messages over the intercom directed to the staff. They were all spoken in a controlled, even voice that neither soothed nor caused additional distress.
“Ian Burke?”
He looked up to see a gentleman with a kind face standing at the edge of the waiting area. Both Ian and Andy stood. “I’m Ian.”
“Hello, Ian. I’m Willie Larkin, one of the chaplains here at the hospital.”
Chaplain, oh please, no. Please don’t say it. He had a brief vision of last rites being said over Harper’s body. He struggled to stay standing.
“Why don’t you and your friend follow me, and I’ll update you on Mr. Callahan’s condition.”
Condition. He’s still alive. “He’s still alive,” he whispered to Andy as they followed the chaplain out of the main reception area across the hall to a small private room.
Once they were seated and the door was closed, the chaplain leaned forward. “I know you’re Ian,”—Willie pointed at Ian with his pen—“but I haven’t had the pleasure.” He pointed to Andy.
“I’m Andy Ashton, Ian’s friend.” Andy shot Ian a look that comforted him in ways words could not.
“Nice to meet you. Andy, my father’s name was Andy. Okay, I need to ask. Ian, what is your relationship to Mr. Callahan?”
Ian looked over to Andy for a clue on how to answer. He and Harper were so new. Should he say boyfriend?
“Ian is Harper’s partner,” Andy said without hesitation. “And they live together,” he added.
“Very good.” The chaplain made note on the document he’d brought with him. “Do you know if any family has been notified?”
