Murder at Willow Slough

by Josh Thomas

  And was fouled! Jamie cheered his lungs out, glad to be alive. Kent put his hands on Jamie’s shoulders as he jumped up and down; then Jamie faced him, Kent’s arms slipped around him—and the moment turned electric.

  They stared at each other; their bodies went physical. Jamie broke out in a sweat.

  Kent breathed in shallow gasps. He felt danger all around, but he did-n’t care anymore, he couldn’t lose Jamie, not after all this. But still, Kent was paralyzed.

  He wanted Jamie with a pure raw hunger.

  And this time, Jamie knew it.

  With two fingers he traced from Kent’s cheekbone, down slowly to lips. Then he raised up on tiptoes and kissed him.

  Kent’s jaw dropped. That scared Jamie, but he knew what he’d just seen. He stood tall and unapologetic and terrified.

  “Man, don’t leave me.”

  “I love you, Kent. If that’s wrong for you, just say the word, I’ll never trouble you again. But I love you.”

  Jamie turned back to the court, trembling at what he’d just done; he’d moved on a Straight man. Kent’s hands fell away; he stammered, “How do two guys do this?”

  “Is it only attraction you feel?” Jamie stood like a statue till Kent pulled him down. “If it’s only physical, tell me this instant.”

  “It’s completely physical. But Jamie, I love you so much it hurts.”

  Jamie’s mind shattered. “Can this be happening?”

  “I’ve been so scared, Jamie. Intimidated.”

  “It’s only that we’re two men.”

  “I’m masculine, you know I am.”

  Kent’s logic was so nonsensical that Jamie punched him. “You’re a stud. Two men, don’t you get it?”

  Kent liked getting punched, something familiar in this unknown territory. Still, he knew his words would never be more important than they were right now. “If you’ll let me, I’ll show you love every day.”

  “This is magic, it’s impossible. How does a Straight guy love me?”

  Kent looked around, then said under his breath, “Jamie, I feel normal, same as always, but… I might be Gay. I ain’t sure no more. I didn’t know I could have these feelings till I met you.” Saying it changed him. “Man, I’m burning up for you. And you feel the same for me?”

  Jamie searched for articulation. It was time for complete honesty, his strongest suit. “When my mother died and I went crazy all alone, who came and slept on a pallet for me?”

  “I had that big air mattress built for two, and there you were down on the floor. I wanted to pull you up with me so I could hold you. But I was scared, I couldn’t do it.”

  Finally Jamie realized that Kent needed him to make the first move— the one thing he’d never do with a Straight man. Until now! “When I woke up from the coma, before I found words, I knew I loved you. Since then it’s grown a thousand times deeper, I cherish every minute we have. But I thought there was no future. Then you come again and I fall for you every time.”

  “Just tell me two guys can make it in this feeble, stupid world.”

  “We can, I promise. I’ll show you how.” Jamie put his hand on Kent’s shoulder, calmed and centered him. “Kent, I want you in my life forever. You are the kindest, most thoughtful man I’ve ever met.”

  “Jamie, I ain’t perfect. Just let me be in your life forever.”

  “Can we sleep together? Tonight?”

  “Naked? Please?”

  “Skin to skin, warmth to warmth. Oh, man.”

  Kent jumped up, fist raised to the dome, “All right! All right!” The rest of the arena stood too and cheered as Kent pulled Jamie back up, hugged and danced him around, jumping for joy. Everyone else danced too, shouted, hollered and generally went nuts, as they often do in Basketball Land. “Man oh man, I just won the lottery! I am gonna get

  laid by the most gorgeous man alive. Brad Pitt, eat your heart out!”

  Jamie burst into laughter.

  Kent pulled his little guy down to the bleachers again, just an excuse to touch him. “Naked, man,” Kent said huskily. “We gon’ make us some naked love tonight.”

  Jamie found out why naked love got them a standing ovation. The announcer intoned, “Personal foul on Wilson of Miami, that’s his fifth; plus a technical foul on the Miami bench, the team’s twelfth.” Jamie searched his memory banks at warp speed, found a file marked Basketball Land. “Oh.” He looked at Kent, smiled like a doofus.

  “Oh,” Kent agreed delightedly, squeezing Jamie’s knee.

  Jamie glanced at his knee, then at the scoreboard: Purdue 84, Miami 76, 2:04 to play, Purdue at the line, two freebies and the ball, the season opener on national TV—and he’d just kissed Kent Kessler in the Holy of Holies!

  Plunk, Jamie keeled over dead, ’cause this had to be heaven.

  Kent set him back upright and winked, “Yeah, man, it’s in the bag.”

  “It’s in the sack!”

  “That too. Man, I can’t wait.”

  Jamie spied their thighs. Two lumps were forming. He hitched his eyebrows at Kent—and ostentatiously adjusted himself like a cocky centerfielder. He yelled at the cute freshman waiting at the foul line, “Go, Boilers, let’s put it in the hole!”

  56

  Vincero

  Kent pulled Jamie’s arm, “Let’s go.” Jamie never left games early, but Kent Was Life, Everything Else Just Details. They ran the corridor, then Kent grabbed him and spun him around by the forearms, Jamie squealing, his feet orbiting in front of the All-Academic Best-Evers. They laughed their way to the exit—where Jamie opened the door for Kent, stood aside, staring him right in the eye.

  Kent smiled and strolled outside. Jamie broke into a run, “Beatcha!”

  “Oh no, you won’t,” Kent vowed, turning on his sprint. Jamie pounded the pavement. He slammed into the pickup first, but just barely. In a fair race he’d be no match for Kent’s long legs. “Cheater,” Kent smilingly accused. They climbed into the cab.

  “How, Kent, why? When, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Let’s go to supper, man, and talk about it there.” Jamie had to eat so he’d keep that weight on. “Lord, we’re in my truck and you love me back. Hot dawg!”

  Kent draped his arm around his boyfriend, pulled him close and honked the horn all the way up Boilermaker Avenue, celebrating the biggest win of his life.

  He spun into the parking lot at Costanza’s, found a spot by the pizza parlor in the rear; but he headed them to the fine dining room in front with a hand on Jamie’s neck. They got to the doors, Kent held one open; Jamie shrugged and wandered back where he came from. Kent ran, grabbed him and shoved his butt inside.

  Jamie got decorous and asked for a quiet booth. Costanza’s was the best restaurant in town. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “I know enough not to take you for pizza on our first date. I’d never live it down.”

  “Is this our first date?”

  “Why did I make that truck sparkle? I had a date.”

  “Man, I love you.” Kent’s chest swelled. Jamie didn’t want food, he wanted manhood. So he looked around in self-defense; slowly other scenes came to him. “I brought my mother here often. This is the first time I’ve been here in awhile, though.”

  “I’ve never been here before. It’s a nice place.”

  “Nice places are the kind I go to, ace.”

  “Can’t feed you Cat Chow when you’re expecting Fancy Feast.” Jamie tried to box his ears, but Kent blocked him with big open hands. They read their menus to keep from grabbing each other. “What was that steak you got me in the hospital, with the vegetables and sauces? It was great.”

  “Chateaubriand. I couldn’t go wrong getting you a slab of beef tenderloin.”

  “I’m a meat and potatoes man,” Kent agreed. But Costanza’s was expensive. He studied, announced for ten-dollar lasagna. “Is that okay?”

  “You’re asking my permission?”

  “Don’t I have to?”

  Jamie plunked his elbow
on the table, bent his arm backwards. “Ooh, copboy do bite back.”

  “That night was such a turning point. Serious as you are, I got to see your fun side for a change. And man, I loved that guy. Thank God I finally told you.” Kent got quiet. “Thank you for introducing me to your Mom. It’s terrible that she died, Jamie, but at least I got to meet her. I’m awful glad. I never got to introduce you to my Dad.”

  He missed his father every single day. “She said of you, ‘Nice eyes.’ Right to the heart of the matter.”

  “I’ve never heard you talk about her. If you feel like it, I want to hear everything.”

  “It would be a sacrilege not to talk about her here. This was one of our places.” Jamie looked into the past. “I picture her in a classic red dress from Talbot’s, with a silk scarf and a gold pin I got her at Saks; whenever she was with one of her sons, she wore jewelry he gave her. She was a good dresser, put together impeccably.

  “But her professionalism far outweighed concern for her looks. She worked with seriously ill patients, even saved lives by preventing drug interactions. She knew her patients personally, their baselines, their histories; she went to see them in the hospital. She was very diplomatic, but at times she fought with doctors. She questioned orders; on rare occasions she refused to fill a prescription. Doctors were outraged at first, but she was right; they learned to rely on her, twelve scripts turned into four and the patients got better. She was amazingly good.”

  “You’re so proud of her.”

  “I sure am. She was an utter professional. She was also Indiana’s Junior Miss, first runner-up in the national scholarships for high school seniors; academics are a major part of the scoring, it’s not just a beauty pageant. It’s brains, talent, fitness and poise under pressure.”

  “The same qualities I’ve seen in you.”

  “She was born dirt-poor. When she didn’t win it all, she didn’t get to go to college. When she finally did go, she did it on her own. Pharmacy’s tough, man. Mom graduated early, but a bachelor’s degree takes six years. Engineers graduate in five.”

  “You’re not just a Purdue fan. You’re a Mom fan.”

  “Always. It takes genius to overcome poverty. Purdue is where she overcame it. We owe everything to this university.”

  “I’m proud I went to IU; but all of a sudden I’m sorry I went to the Wrong School.”

  “So am I. But I’m glad you went to the next best place.”

  “What was she like when you’d bring her here?”

  “We dressed up. She knew good clothes and she’d pay for them; but she hated to pay for good food. Even after she made professional money, the price of food was unreasonably important to her. What a meal costs is often proportional to its taste. If you can’t cook—and she couldn’t—pay the person who can. But no, food was a place to cut costs. That was the poverty talking. She was crazed. So I brought her here every chance I got. So did Stone, it turns out, for the same reason, with the same results.”

  “Reminds me of my Dad. He’d blow a wad anytime he felt like it, but for years he bitched about 100-watt light bulbs when I could still do my homework with a 75. Mom finally marched him to the store and made him compare. There’s no big difference in price based on wattage. The protective box costs more than the light bulbs do.”

  These were like the stories the Foster boys told each other after the funeral; intimate, family-building. “Mom and Arnie lived off early-bird specials at cafeterias, Senior Night at some VFW hall; 99¢ all-you-caneat catfish, my idea of dreadful. So I’d take her out and she’d let me order for her, sometimes we’d nosh on appetizers all night. You get variety that way, and you learn what a restaurant is capable of.” Kent could picture Jamie with his Mom.

  “Then the bill would come, and of course I was paying, but she’d always ask how much it was, ‘Now son, don’t spend so much money, grump grump.’ Then she’d leave a good tip. It was all a ritual, though, she was thrilled I spent the money on her—she loved the food and the fact that we did something special together. She was terrific to take out. We had the finest, freest conversations.”

  “You two had fun.”

  “It’s the great thing about dining out. You turn normal life into an occasion with no effort at all. People cater to you, all you have to do is give them money. What’s a better bargain than that? And here we are, on this life-changing night. Our first date!” An idea popped into Jamie’s head. “You’re not having lasagna, boy. We’re doing this up right.”

  Kent grinned, “See, I knew I had to ask first.”

  Someone came to take their drink order; Jamie asked for a modest champagne. When the cork was popped, Jamie lifted his glass. Kent’s brown eyes shone in the dim light. The sound system began Franz Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony; romantic, Gay music Jamie first heard live at Purdue University. “To Beauty. To Hero. To Commander.”

  They clinked. Kent shivered, He likes how I look! Little blond stud with the movie-star face, and he wants to be with me? He let himself enjoy what he felt. It wasn’t hard, but then again it was. He adjusted himself.

  “Don’t do that, man,” Jamie warned. “I can’t take it. I’m going to eat you alive.”

  Kent panted, came out a little more. “I want you to.”

  “I’ll cover you with sauce and feast on your tender loins.”

  If Kent thought Jamie was intense before, he picked up a clue about what their future love life might be like.

  Kent said,“I can’t believe this is happening.This is the most beautiful day of my life, and it’s just now dawning on me how stupid I’ve been.”

  A waiter hovered in the vicinity, straightened silver. Jamie motioned, asked Kent, “Do you like paté?” Kent shrugged. “Chicken livers?”

  “Heck yes, one of my all-time favorite things.”

  “If you’d rather have chateaubriand, they do it well here. Or try something new?”

  Kent smiled, “You pick.”

  “Beef Wellington, baked potato and steamed vegetables for this gentleman; linguine speziale for me. Romaine salads, no iceberg; low-fat dressing, but not until ten minutes from now. If your tomatoes are good, I want a ton of them; if they’re pink tennis balls from a Florida crate, forget it. A glass of top claret and one of chardonnay with the entrées; and will you ask the chef to take his or her time? One of us likes to wolf down his food, while I like a leisurely dinner.” Kent poked him. “And since we’re here to talk…”

  “I’ll get the drapes, sir.” The waiter untied them at the front of the table. Kent thought they were there for show.

  Jamie said, “Thank you, you’re quite good. We’re glad to be here.” When they were closed into the booth he chuckled, “We’re like Perry Mason and Della Street, hiding out from Lieutenant Tragg.”

  Kent had never been in a booth with drapes to shut out the world before. Jamie said, “Man, you’re the complete package—brains, heart, health, looks. I can’t believe I’m so lucky. Tell me your story. I love you, Kent, but I know so little of your past. Maybe now’s the time to say all the things we’ve hidden from each other.”

  Kent rolled up his sleeves, exposing huge, hairy, muscled forearms. Jamie thought about devouring them. And for my appetizer, a nice big order of brachioradials.

  “Well, ever since I’ve been on my own, all my energy has gone into either work or play. None of it’s gone into… me, the way I am now, with you. Jamie, I’ve loved you for months, and I kept my mouth shut. I was stupid—scared is what it was. Me, the one who ain’t afraid of nothin’, except 175-pound blondboys. Then when I do finally show you my feelings, you’re here with me, just like that. I’m trying to take it all in. You told me from day one you’d never put a move on me. If I’d opened up to you sooner, we could have been together this whole time, when you were recovering. I could have helped you more, maybe.”

  Jamie struggled to absorb such tenderness, sweetness, honesty. “You couldn’t have helped me more, unless you slept with me. Man, I wish I knew what you
were feeling.”

  “Know what I was going through till I met you? I was lonely, Jamie. This gradual creeping loneliness was killing off my insides.”

  “You needed a friend to be intimate with.”

  “A buddy to kick back with, who didn’t expect me to be a big bad trooper all the time. I’ve got a softer side, Jamie.”

  “Kent, that’s the part I love the most.”

  “You bring it out in me. ’Cause you’re so loving yourself.”

  “When have I shown you lovingness? When have I had the courage?”

  “Ask Davey when you’ve shown it. Ask the Gay-bashers, ask Glenn Ferguson, ask your Mom!”

  Jamie covered his eyes. “But I want to do loving things for you.”

  “You have, by letting me in your life. Know what amazes me most? I’m not just a dumb jock or a robo-cop anymore; with you I’m a whole human being. I need you, Jamie. For the first time in my life I know who Kent is.”

  “Hard and soft both.”

  “Poached egg, huh?”

  “No, Commander, you’re squiggly sperm.”

  “Wanna be. You sure are. Now my loneliness is gone, Jamie. I met you, and all of a sudden life got exciting. Different every day. A little too exciting, as a matter of fact. That coma scared the poop out of me. Don’t you ever pull that stunt again.”

  “I won’t.” The idea of coma as a stunt made Jamie smile. “Were you mad at me?”

  “At times. Then you woke up and I was overjoyed. These last two months I’ve had so much fun, I can’t wait to get to your house every night. All day long I wonder, What’s Jamie doing now? Is he eating, working out, is he pissed off at the news again?”

  Kent loved to tease him about this, because Jamie was very free with his views about the news. “Kent, you said you might be Gay. You’re not sure?”

  “No. Can I be Straight, tonight at least, and want your body? Love your heart?”

  “You sure can. When did this start?”

  “The day we met. It took me a long time to sort out, but every time I saw you, my body was just… drawn to you. Like a magnet, I didn’t have a choice about it. I’m sure you could tell.”