dontravis.com blog post #634
Well,
our nameless hero got his petty revenge on Graciela last week. Didn’t
accomplish much except bring some satisfaction into his dim life, and that was
worth something, right?
****
MONDAY,
WEDNESDAY, AND FRIDAY
I left the chapel following Charles
Farrelson’s memorial service somewhat spiritually fractured. Chuck, thirty
years my senior, had been both father figure and lover for the past five years.
For at least 250 of the last 260 Wednesdays, he’d filled my afternoons with
good food, sharp wit, and loving caresses. Yet the sorrow tugging at my
heartstrings felt selfish. It seemed more centered on what was taken from me,
rather than his life being snatched from him.
Feeling the need for
nourishment, sustenance… something. I walked past the cars in the parking lot
and struck out for the Famous Four Flavors ice cream shop across the street. A
tall hunky guy I’d noticed at the service entered before me. I’d picked up on him
not only because he was so handsome but also because he was Chuck’s son Drake.
Restraining the impulse to
introduce myself, I fell in line behind him wondering how he’d feel about
meeting his father’s gay lover. Once he collected his chocolate shake, I
ordered a strawberry. Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I walked toward a nearby table
until a deep baritone brought me to a halt.
“I noticed you at the service.” Drake
indicated a chair. “Join me?”
When I was settled, he offered a
handshake. “Hi, I’m Drake Barstow.”
I grasped his hand and frowned.
“N-not Drake Farrelson?”
His eyebrows reached for his dark
hairline. “No. Why would you think that?”
“I’ve seen you before. Last
December, I saw you and Chuck leaving Dillards. I asked him later, and he said
you were his son.”
His astonished look morphed into
glee. “That old dog! Now let me guess. You’re not Carl, Chuck’s nephew. You
see, I saw you with him once, too, at the University bookstore.
“I’m Carl, all right. But I’m
not his nephew. I was… uh, a friend.”
“Yeah, a friend. What was your
day?”
“My day?”
“When did you meet him? Was it
on a special day of the week?”
“Well… yes. We got together for
lunch or something every Wednesday.”
“Yeah, or something. I was
Friday. That’s the day we got together for… something.”
“You… you mean you and Chuck…?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“For how long?”
“Ten years. I was eighteen when
I met him. Got together with him every Friday after that except when one of us
was out of town. And that wasn’t often, I can tell you.” He arched an eyebrow
at me. “How long for you?”
“Five years. I was eighteen,
too.”
“Apparently, that’s the age when
we first grab his attention. But he was loyal, in his own way, I guess you
could say. Outside of Chuck, what do you do?”
I felt my cheeks burn. “No one.
It was just—”
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant.
What do you do to keep a roof over your head?”
“I’m a commercial artist. You?”
“Photographer. And I’ll bet
you’ve got as many intimate drawings as I have photographs.”
My cheeks really flamed then.
“Uh, a few.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some scorchers,
too.” His attention strayed from me to the front door of the shop. “Hang on, I
think we’re about to meet Monday.”
I looked where his gaze was
centered and saw the other individual who’d caught my attention at the memorial
service. Impossibly young and blond, the kid was really cute.
“What makes you think—”
“Well, he’s not Chuck’s son or
nephew, and probably not even a cousin. But he was at the service. What are the
odds?”
We both watched the kid’s
coltish, self-conscious carriage as he ordered a coke and then turned to glance
uncertainly over the room. His eyes stopped on us before moving on.
“Have a chair,” Drake said.
With only a moment’s hesitation,
the kid sat.
We identified ourselves and
watched the newcomer’s reaction. His blue eyes skittered back and forth between
us as he sank into a chair at the table.
“Confused?” Drake asked.
“Uh….”
“Well, I’m not Chuck’s son, and
Carl’s not his nephew. Now let me make a couple of guesses about you. You’re
what? About twenty or twenty-one?”
“Twenty.”
“Your name’s Jake and you met
Carl about two years ago.
The kid seemed flustered.
“That’s right. How did you know?”
“I saw you with Carl once at the
Kimo. He told me your name later.”
“You saw us?”
“Bound to happen sooner or later,” I said.
“Albuquerque’s not that big of a town.”
Jake looked as if he was about
to bolt.
“It’s okay,” Drake said. You’re
among brethren.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is I’m Friday,
Carl’s Wednesday, and I’ll bet you’re Monday.”
“I don’t know what you—”
“Come on, don’t play coy. You
met Chuck for lunch and playtime every Monday, right?”
“I met him, yes, but—”
“Butt being the operative word.
You got it on with him. We all did.
Now it was Jake’s turn to send
his eyebrows northward. “You mean…?”
“Yep. That’s exactly what I
mean. Old Chuck got his jollies every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with us. Who
knows, we might be why his heart failed. Hell, he wasn’t even fifty-five yet.”
That comment sat on the table for a moment while we all digested
it. Then Drake took charge again.
“Now what we have to do is
figure out the situation. You know” he turned pedantic. “Let not what Chuck sowed be put asunder!”
Jake and I blinked back at him
for a moment before smiling.
“How do you know we’re
compatible?” I asked.
Drake winked. “I’d bet on it.”
After raising a silent toast to
our dear, departed Chuck, we put our heads together and started working out our
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
That story didn’t
come out of any experience of mine. Reading it makes me wonder how my mind
works, but I’ll not delve into that too deeply. At the turn of the year, I’ll
try to do something original… although I am taking on a new project that’s
going to demand a lot of my time. Hopefully, it’s productive in the end.
Until next week, stay safe and strong.
Now my mantra. keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say... so say it!
Please check out my seven BJ Vinson murder mystery books published by Dreamspinner Press.
My personal links:
Email: dontravis@aol.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
X: @dontravis3
See you next Thursday.
Don
New Posts every Thursday morning at 6:00 a.m., US Mountain time.
