by Josh Thomas
But Kent was too worried. “What if her not being there was deliberate?” He weighed an impulse to call the major immediately.
“She’s not allowed to steal this night! I’ve had enough of these people invading my life. This night is ours, man, our first date. We worked for it, we earned it. No more dead people. Just two guys in love. Please, Kent. Please.”
“Jamie, you’re the capital of my world.” They ate their salad, two forks, one plate.
To make themselves feel better, Jamie wondered what the sandhill cranes were up to tonight. Kent’s eyes shone as Jamie spun a tale about two male cranes in a little love nest. “The smaller one was named Ethan. His buddy was named Zack. They both thought they were loners, flying on the fringes. Ethan was very good at the mating dance, he bobbed deeper and leapt higher than anyone else. But for some reason no one wanted him; which was okay, he didn’t want them either. But he was lonely all the time.
“Then one day he met Zack, and it turned out the same thing happened to him, though Zack said it was because he didn’t dance as well as the others. So they flew together, two guys having fun, amazed at how well they knew each other’s feelings; knew when it was time to stop and rest, knew when the other guy was hungry. Ethan was good at finding the best feeding places, the corn and wheat and bugs. Zack knew all the good shelters when the weather got bad. And somehow, without deciding or even knowing, they became a pair. The other cranes knew it when it happened; and after that, they always flew together, and no one could remember a time it hadn’t been that way.”
Kent listened to the softness in Jamie’s voice, the imagination of his mind; Jamie loved being Gay. To be with a guy like Jamie, Kent might learn to love it too.
“One night they ran into terrible bad weather, windy, horrible, freezing rain. The flock scattered, trying to survive. Zack found his buddy a protected ledge, but he couldn’t keep all the ice from pelting them, or the wind from howling; and Ethan started to shiver, couldn’t stop. So Zack stepped closer, one step, then two, till they touched each other. Ethan had wanted to touch all along, but he was afraid Zack wouldn’t allow it. But now Zack was touching him, a dream come true. So Ethan got as close as he could. They absorbed each other’s warmth. But still Ethan shivered. He was young, he couldn’t help it; he knew he was supposed to be brave, but he was freezing to death. If their bills
iced up they would suffocate.”
“Oh, no. That can happen to pheasants, too.”
“At the height of the storm, Ethan suddenly flew off the ledge, searching the frozen earth for twigs to prop Zack’s bill open so he wouldn’t freeze. The ice rained down, made his wings so heavy he could barely fly. Zack shouted, ‘Ethan, come back here, you could die out there!’
“But Ethan knew his buddy could die back there; which gave him the strength to go on. But there were no sticks anywhere that weren’t frozen to the ground. So he flew up into a maple tree and tried snapping a twig off. With all the ice, it broke off finally. He propped his own bill open, then snapped another twig off, and with his last strength he flew back to the ledge and got the twig into Zack’s bill so he could breathe.”
“Ethan risked his life for his buddy. Oh, Jamie.”
“Zack was so glad to have Ethan safe that he jumped up on his back, stretched out his wings and pulled Ethan under him. He covered his little guy, even though Zack was cold and scared too. Ethan crouched, got very small, he knew that Zack’s wing muscles would hurt, stretched out like that. Ethan tried to fit their bodies together, so Zack wouldn’t hurt.
“But Ethan loved being covered; loved that Zack would do that for him. And even though his wings hurt, Zack took pride that his brave little Ethan snuggled under him, giving warmth back, relying on him. To Zack it was the most masculine feeling he’d ever had, taking care of his mate; the masculine mate who saved his life.
“Finally Ethan stopped shivering. Their bills didn’t freeze. They got some rest. The next day was sunny, much warmer, they flew fast and free. They didn’t talk about what happened, but it changed everything. That noontime Ethan dove for food, over and over, down and down. He wouldn’t let Zack forage, fought him when he tried to gather food. So Zack sat back as Ethan piled food at his feet, made a feast for him.
“For the rest of their lives, in good weather and bad, they flew together, and slept together, Zack the strong, warm one as Ethan the feastmaker snuggled with him.”
Kent pulled his Ethan to him, the most beautiful soul he’d ever met.
“Jamie, don’t go, stay here with me. I’ll cover you always, keep you safe and warm. I know there’s your career, you just solved thirteen homicides, the Gay community needs you. But don’t leave me. And please don’t go to New York. I mean, I want you to for your job, if you want it. I won’t hold you back. But jeez, don’t go to New York. Stay here with me. This is home. Stay here with me.”
Kent’s feelings were so tender and disclosive and fair that Jamie ached. But it didn’t occur to Kent to move to Columbus, much less New York. It occurred to Jamie.
Kent got excited. “Come and live with me at the cabin. It ain’t fancy, but I’ll make you happy. I’ll do anything to make you happy. I’ll tear it down and build you a new one to make you happy.”
Jamie looked at Kent’s face, all naive sincerity. But life was complicated. Thelma’s estate might be settled soon; there was Casey to consider, the career. Jamie was just learning how to write. Was Rather serious? Suppose I get assigned to Topeka. Kent’s the Hoosier Columbo, he loves his job with a passion. This is crazy.
Whose career’s more important, yours or mine? He felt it as a sudden turning point, a crucial, scary decision.
He was extremely ambitious. He had been to the summit once before and he could do it again. He fully expected to be a White House correspondent someday, shouting tough questions, making Presidents cower.
But he looked at the man he loved and quickly made the frightening choice. There was precedent, a guy named Rick, to whom he’d made a commitment and kept it, the highest achievement of his life—a lot more important than leaning half-naked on a rock.
Jamie could write anywhere; Kent could be a cop anywhere. But they had to be together. “It takes much more talking than just tonight. But I’d love to live in your cabin that’s not fancy. I don’t need fancy. I need you.”
He shuddered from the risk, the possible abandonment of his expectations. Was his stock up in Columbus as a result of this story? How was his stock in New York? But no amount of writing or recognition outweighed his ability, his need to love. That, more than looks, brains or courage, was his biggest gift.
“You’d give up your home for me? Your job, even?”
“It scares me, it’s so new. But yes, maybe.” Jamie didn’t want stardom, he wanted Kent. “Yes. I love you. But I need to know, would you do the same for me?”
Kent blanched; then slowly he smiled, wiggled his hips, “I could be the next bun shot on ‘NYPD Blue.’”
“I bet your buns are photogenic.”
“If New York don’t work out, Jamie, come and live with me?”
“I have to go to Columbus at some point.”
“To get your furniture.”
“More than that; to thank Casey, to help him; to say goodbye to my readers. You have no idea how wonderful they’ve been to me.”
“Okay, Casey and your readers then. Then get your butt back here.”
“I’ll go back home for awhile and return when the estate is settled. We can see each other on weekends. There’s no way we’re ready to live together yet. Is there?”
Kent’s face hardened. “What have we been doing but living together? No way to this weekend stuff. What if you don’t come back in March? What if you meet someone else? With your looks, I’ll have to fight off guys with a stick. And man, I’m just a cop. The money don’t go that far. Jamie, I make… all of 26 grand a year.” This was a very significant, risky statement. He checked Jamie’s reaction.
But Jamie knew a
bout the paycheck. “It’s a crime Indiana doesn’t pay its police more. Arrest the governor!”
“Honey, do you need any help with your bills?”
Jamie stared. You called me honey. “My what?”
“I’ve been real worried, Jamie, you haven’t worked in months. Is your boss okay, what benefits do you get? Do you need any help with your bills?”
Jamie was stupefied. He was filthy rich, and here was a cop offering to pay his bills. Jamie nearly cried. “Don’t worry, my bills are paid, it’s all electronic, I’ve got good benefits, sick leave at full pay. Thank you, Kent, how generous and kind. Just to have thought of it fills me with grateful amazement.”
“If we live simply, you’d never have to work again. I’ll support you, I’d love to.”
It rapidly became the worst heterosexist claptrap Jamie had ever heard; but then, it was coming from a Straight Hoosier cop who didn’t know any better. Jamie was a standout, and here was DiMaggio asking Marilyn to be a housewife.
But of the legions of rich men who had offered to keep Jamie, none of them was a heroic police officer who only wanted to take care of him, and had already done it magnificently.
Kent added, “I know you want to work, and that’s fine, I want you to have your own goals too. But see, I’ve got money in reserve if we need it.” He was so proud of his baseball money; so proud to finally tell about it. He could support his lover and set him up for life. He’d looked forward to it since the day he signed; and here, at long last, was the man that money was meant for.
Jamie reached for him. “Simply or grandly, we’ll live together soon.”
“But what if you go home and some millionaire sweeps you off your feet?”
“Buddy, millionaires have tried.” At 18 some Brit on the Staten Island ferry offered Jamie an apartment at the Hotel Pierre. He chose graduate student housing instead. “I don’t seem to marry for money.”
“It don’t matter to you I don’t make anything?”
“No. I like enough money to live on, but my needs are few. I grew up on boiled potatoes and hamburger gravy. What I need carries no price tag. I don’t even marry for looks; Rick was rather plain. Know what I marry for?”
Kent thought. “Goulash when people hurt?”
“Love you. Cherish you. Worship you!”
They hugged. How good it felt to have a man in their arms.
“Jamie, I probably won’t say this right, but I have to say it. When you were getting well, and I came every two days at first? I wanted to throw your friends out and come every day. I never wanted to leave you. I wanted to move in and take care of you, not have your friends doing my job. That’s what it is, my job!—to take care of you. So don’t talk about leaving. It took you telling me today you were going back to Columbus to get me to stop being such an idiot and finally admit the truth, that I love you. God, to get you and lose you, all in the same day? I won’t do it again. I did it before. Never again. If you love me, you’re staying with me!”
Jamie shook his head at Kent’s machismo; was also deeply pleased with him. “You took perfect care of me, Kent. I want more of that. I’ll come back to get it.”
“There’s something else,” Kent blurted. “Why did you have to say I was Straight all the time? I started to worry you wouldn’t like me as much if I wasn’t Straight.”
“I never said you were Straight. Who told Dan Rather you were Straight?”
It landed like an uppercut. “No one, I, he… heck, it just started getting said. And I didn’t do nothing to stop it. Should I have? I could barely figure it out myself, and I’m supposed to tell Dan Rather I’m Gay? Get real. It ain’t nobody’s business. If I was gonna tell anyone, it better be you. But I was such a wimp I couldn’t even manage that.”
“It was all coming at maximum-stress time, you did the right thing. But why on earth would I like a Straight man better than a Gay man?”
“Straight guys ain’t superior? They think they are.”
“Superior to you? Puh-lease. Man, let’s move you up to Triple-A.”
Kent got the same instruction-ready look as always; a crisp little nod, eyes and ears wide open. “Go, Coach.”
“No one on earth is superior to you. I may turn on to your toughness; but I love your softer side. Mother Nature created Gay men to combine softness with hardness, because both qualities are necessary for survival. Straight people need the opposite sex to become whole; Gay people already are. Kent, are you Straight?”
He took awhile to answer. “Maybe not. But how can I know, when I’ve never been attracted to another guy?”
“Then who’s this Brad Pitt person?”
Kent guffawed, busted red-handed with bank dye exploding all over his cash. “I’m a normal all-American guy; of course I’m Straight. I just happen to be in love with a beautiful, all-American guy who ain’t normal at all, who’s challenging and sexy and brilliant and dangerous and my God, let’s get naked and fuck.”
“Hail Purdue!” They laughed and hugged. “Do you look at women?”
“Not no more.”
“Why not? Women are beautiful.”
“I feel some attraction for women, but I ain’t that fond of their… inside parts.” That was all Jamie needed to hear. “I like their breasts, though, and their open personalities. Unless they get too giggly. I hate helpless women, Jamie, they’re so phony, like it gratifies a guy that she can’t change a tire. If you can drive, you better know how to fix a Goodyear. I do best when I’m just friends with a woman. I got a lot of women friends. Not many guys can say that.”
Only Gay guys. “Do you look at men?”
“Only you.”
“What do you look at?”
“Your hair, your face, your abs, your stick-out nipples, your crotch, your attitude—and especially your little bitty ass.” It was definitely going to be a knockdown-dragout for who was the alpha male.
Kent said, “Two can ask these questions. What do you see in me?”
“Kindness, strength; principle, intelligence.”
“You think I’m smart?”
“Thomas Ford eluded the cops for 14 years. You apprehended him in 14 days.”
“Gee. Not my body?”
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. But it starts with the windows to your soul. Kent, in mind and body, you are overpoweringly beautiful to me.”
Kent’s eyebrows danced. “Wanna crawl between my legs and commit a misdemeanor?”
Jamie disappeared beneath the table.
Kent laughed, yanked him back up, “You criminal, you’d ruin my career. Come to think of it, I got money, go ahead!” He tried to push Jamie back down, but he wouldn’t go.
When they returned to the leaving issue, Jamie said, “You must trust the one you love.”
“It ain’t that I don’t trust you. It’s that I can’t stand to lose you. I’ve waited 27 years for you, man. And now I’ve got you, you ain’t leavin’. I want you with me every day of my life. I want to hold you every night. I want—I want so much, Jamie. I ain’t completely sure what two guys do together, but I want it all, with you.”
Jamie ate lobster, ready to show him on Broadway what two men do.
“You know what I visualize when I think of us together? Just lying in bed, holding you. I want that so bad, Jamie. I want to get naked and hold you.”
“Kent, my favorite thing in all the world is to sleep together.” Jamie was tempted. He uncrossed his legs and spread them apart. It wasn’t at all better.
He also knew it wasn’t right for either of them that he stay. They needed to date, get to know each other romantically, sexually, not just move in together. “We have to wait awhile. Let’s not start out by making mistakes. We need to find out what we really, really want. We need to go slow.”
“Aw, Jamie, I wanna go fast. Let’s just get in my truck and go real fast!”
James R. would have given a cornea to write that line. “But we barely know each other. An hour ago I didn’t even know you w
ere Questioning.”
“I’ve only told one other person, kinda.”
“Major Slaughter?”
Kent was stunned. “How’d you know that?”
“I didn’t; reporters guess a lot. The major didn’t tell me. He would never break a confidence. I know that for a fact.”
Kent sat back. “How do you know that for a fact? You held things back from me, too. All right, out with it.”
“It’s no big thing, I’ve known George since he was a regional commander. It’s simply logical that if you’ve only told one person, it might be him; he’s your boss. He’s a trustworthy guy.” Then Jamie wanted to change the subject. “How’s your beef?”
Kent tried to think it through. “Let me get this right. You’ve known George before this. You knew he was high up in the ranks. So you were pulling strings on him, then he pulled strings on me; and you were pulling strings on this case the whole time?!”
“I don’t have strings to pull. Once you got the case, you didn’t co-opt me, you turned me into your marionette.”
Kent shifted to look at the picture on the wall, the candle, anything but Jamie.
“Does anyone pull George Slaughter’s strings? Come on. Man, I’m just a reporter. I don’t have the power to do all that.”
A light bulb fired up. “Is Major Slaughter Gay? He ain’t married. That’s how you got your blond, devious hooks in him.” Kent stared. “There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do on this case. You infiltrated the Indiana State Police!”
Jamie couldn’t help a little head-toss, “About time someone noticed.”
“Man oh man. You conniving little bastard.”
“I got lucky. George picked you out, the toughest, smartest investigator he has. I didn’t know you existed.”
“But you worked him on those old cases. I’ve read that old stuff you wrote, pushing for a task force. Pushing all the time, like you always do. And since you knew him—man, this is deep. You masterminded this whole thing.”
