Thursday, August 8, 2019

Meow


dontravis.com blog post #349
  
Courtesy of en.wikipedia.org.
I didn’t realize it until I posted this story, but this is the third tale in a row featuring an animal… with a tail. Sorry, couldn’t resist that.

Let’s visit another part of the great state of New Mexico with the following piece of fiction. As the name infers, Silver City is a mining town. Copper, gold, silver, and other minerals have attracted people throughout history. Silver City sits in a valley which was once the site of an Apache camp. Spaniards mined copper there. After the Civil War, a settlement called La Cienega de San Vicente (Oasis of St. Vincent) took root there. The town of Silver City was founded in the summer of 1870 after discovery of silver ore at Chloride Flats, west of the farm of Captain John M. Bullard and his brother James. The captain was killed by Apache raiders on February 23, 1871 and is supposedly buried in the first grave in the city cemetery.

The town suffered substantial violent crime during the 1870s, but Grant County Sheriff Harvey Whitehill started putting the brakes on the trouble. He was the first lawman to arrest Billy the Kid… in fact, he did it twice. The town’s first marshal, Dangerous Dan Tucker, one of Whitehill’s former deputies continued to bring things under control. Now Silver City is considered one of the safest towns in the state… until our fictitious killer shows up. Now to the story.

*****
MEOW
Monday morning, Jonathan Biggersby listened to the excited chatter around the water cooler at Mars and Larson Architects, LLC. Sarah Reynolds, the firm’s receptionist, professed to be terrorized by the sixth murder in Silver City in the last six months. Most of the men kept a stiff upper lip—preferring to confine their pithy comments to why the authorities failed to catch the killer—but the women were clearly frightened.
An amateur historian, Jonathan knew this southwest New Mexico town was born in violence in the 1870s, but in recent years it was rated 63rd safest out of 100 cities and towns of any size in the nation. But now an elusive murderer sowed fear and suspicion throughout this town of 10,000 souls.
Several of the M&L employees expressed a fear of venturing outside their locked homes at night. Some of them curtailed their children’s evening activities, adversely impacting attendance at Western New Mexico University’s Mustangs sports venues.
Tired of all the fear mongering, he returned to his desk to resume work on drawings of a small apartment complex. He worked carefully and efficiently, even though a part of his mind mulled over the water cooler topic.
According to news reports, Dr. Josephine Rasmussen had been garroted in her home this past Wednesday night. Three weeks prior, it had been John Harginess, a pastor returning home after a welfare visit to one of his parishioners. The good parson had been found stabbed to death in Big Ditch Park near the city’s police department. Before that a gardener died of a gunshot wound, teenage athlete Billy Boyce had his throat slashed, and…. Jonathan took a moment to shake out his tense shoulder muscles as the names and circumstances of the other two killings escaped him.
The only thing that led the police to conclude these disparate killings were committed by the same individual was a one-inch square note with a printed number accurately enumerating the victim, each in turn. According to news reports, the authorities confirmed the handwriting was done by the same hand—likely a man in his prime—but they learned nothing else from the deliberately placed clues.
This modern killer was beginning to spread as much terror as some of the more notable characters who resided in, visited, or raided the town in the old days. People such as Billy the Kid, Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch, Cochise, Geronimo, Victorio, and Mangas Coloradas. Jonathan, a mature, rational man, refused to be ruffled by the notorious modern-day killer, but he did go to the trouble of obtaining a concealed carry permit, and his little APV .25 caliber semiautomatic pistol hung heavy in his right coat pocket at this very moment.
Jonathan finished his workday and, as usual, accompanied two of his workmates to a neighborhood bar for one glass of the house ale before saying his goodbyes. His companions hoisted glasses to his departure and warned him to guard against being Number 7, a raucous way of saying be careful.
In deference to the humid August afternoon weather in full monsoon flow pattern, he loosened his tie and shrugged out of his suit coat before sliding into the driver’s seat of his 2015 Audi sedan. The drive was a short one… as were most drives in Silver City. He parked in the driveway in front of his detached one-car garage and walked around the front of the house to pick up his mail and latch the gate, which was unaccountably agape.
Jonathan shuffled through the four pieces of mail—three bills and a letter from his cousin George in Albuquerque--before looking around for Oscar. The black tom with red-rimmed eyes usually met him at the front gate. Jonathan always let the cat out as he went to work each day, and they met one another in the evening on the front porch. Today… no Oscar. Unusual but not unheard of. The cat was an independent sort, but he had become a great comfort after Jonathan’s divorce two years ago.
He paused in the front yard to admire the structure he called home. Best thing about it? It was paid off. Free and clear. He retained the blonde brick, pitched roof house in the divorce settlement, because Elizabeth wanted to go to the big city. Albuquerque wasn’t that appealing to him, but it must hold an attraction for some.
He stooped to smell some of the miniature red roses Elizabeth had planted along the front of the house. They drooped from the heat, but even so, emitted a nice aroma. Tripping up the steps, he keyed the lock and entered his home. After securing the door behind him, he tossed his coat on the back of the couch, taking comfort from the thump of the little gun in one pocket against the cushion, and opened the drapes to look out the picture window, pleased by the condition of his green, flower-rimmed yard. Intelligent watering. That was the key.
As he stood taking pleasure in the moment, something brushed his leg. He glanced down. Oscar sat on his hind legs and looked up to greet him.
“Meow.”
“How in the blazes did you get in?”
Had he forgotten to let the cat out this morning? No, he distinctly remembered….
A chill played up his back as he lunged for his coat.


*****

Oh, boy! Some of you are going to be pleased as Punch I gave you the opportunity to finish the story. Others will be red-faced mad at me for not doing so. But it’s up to you, dear reader, to complete the story. I hope you’ll send me your resolutions at don.travis@aol.com.

Likewise, some of you at Worwrights Writing Class will take me to task for telling a story, instead of showing. And in truth, this is telling. But some stories are made to be told, not shown.

Dreamspinner’s publishing date for my next BJ Vinson book, The Voxlightner Scandal, is November 19, 2019. A buy link follows:  http://www.dsppublications.com/books/upcoming-releases-c

Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

My personal links: (Note the change in the Email address because I’m still getting remarks on the old dontravis21@gmail.com. PLEASE DON’T USE THAT ONE.)
                                                                                                    
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Buy links to Abaddon’s Locusts:


See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.


Thursday, August 1, 2019

Foxy Fox


dontravis.com blog post #348
  
Courtesy of public domain files
I guess I’m “animal-obsessed” these days. Last week, a dog. This week, a furry-tailed red fox. Hope you enjoy my tail… er, tale.

*****
FOXY FOX
          There were humans in the woods! Instinctively, she dropped behind a fallen log near the path their kind usually trod. One was nearby, although the odor was somewhat different. Her sharp nose detected no scent of the savage dogs they sometimes used to hunt her. The big beasts could smell as well as she could, but they weren’t as fast. Couldn’t scoot through the underbrush as easily as she could, either.
          She cocked her ears as a mewling sound reached them. A crying sound, like one of her kits would make. Except… stranger. Foxy, no longer able to contain her curiosity, raised up enough to see over the rotting log. The season of falling leaves had arrived, and she peered through a veritable rain of them at a human. A tiny human walking on its two hind legs—the way they all did—although with halting and uncertain steps. Its mouth alternately opened to emit wails and closed to make sobs. The peculiar fur he wore was the color of the sky on top and like damp sand on the bottom. One of his paws—she was almost sure it was a little dog fox—was covered in something, but the other one was bare, fat little toes—one more than she had—topped with short little claws that looked to serve no purpose at all.
          Something moved at the edge of the far side of the forest. A wolf! No, a coyote. The beast watched quietly for a moment and then moved for the child. He probably wouldn’t hurt the little human, but sometimes coyotes like to play with their prey, and this one probably looked like a giant ground squirrel to him.
          As the coyote moved in for a closer look, the child backed up too quickly and ended up sitting on the hard ground, raising a cloud of dust as it plopped down. The abrupt movement and a following screech of terror brought a snarl from the coyote.
          Foxy reacted as if it were her own kit in danger. She bounded forward, snarling and nipping at the bigger animal. The coyote snapped back, but his heart wasn’t in it, so he slunk off. The baby let out a howl, it’s big eyes the color of ripe acorns wide with fear. Moving slowly and gently, Foxy licked dirt and twigs from the human’s filthy face. In moments, the child went silent and allowed her ministrations. Finished, she backed of and sat on her rump. The human child gurgled and reached out to stroke her fur with fat little forepaws. She allowed it until she sensed the kit was surrendering to exhaustion. It was too open here. Too dangerous, so she poked him with her nose until he roused. Then she walked toward the tree line, glancing over her shoulder and giving a short bark.
          The baby leaned forward on his front paws, lifted his rump, and stood uncertainly on his two hind feet. She yipped again, and he tottered after her.
          Once she reached a sheltered place, Foxy settled down, her long red tail curled around her comfortably. As she hoped, the child plopped down beside her. Moments later, she heard a yawn and felt his body slump down, his belly touching her back. Good. He would rest now. So could she.


          Abruptly, she lifted her head as sounds reached her sharp ears. Other human. More than one. Two, possibly, although she could hear more remote voices, each making the same sound. Could they be looking for the lost kit? Had this little human strayed from his protectors?
          Foxy stood quietly, so as not to rouse the sleeping child. After a few steps out on the trail, she stopped to listen and smell. No scent of hounds. Nor the unpleasant, oily odor of the shooting sticks they sometimes carried. If they were searching for the little human, they were on the wrong trail. Glancing back at the sleeping child, Foxy made a decision. Never before had she consciously courted danger, but she would now.
          Following the nearest human noises, she made directly for them. Close now, she lay silently in the shade of a berry bush until two of them appeared on the deer trail. They still called, each making the same sound. These two must be part of a larger group searching for the child. And if they continued down this trail, they wouldn’t find him.
          Foxy examined the two approaching figures. Men. Males. Not old and grizzled like some of them. Young, perhaps. They carried no shooting sticks, merely trimmed limbs from some tree. When they were close enough, she made her move, darting directly in front of them and halting in the middle of the trail.
          Each shouted something, but she paid no attention except to watch their forepaws for danger. When one clawed at his side and drew out a short shooting stick, Foxy scooted back the way she’d come. No explosion followed, so she dared to stop and look back. One had his hand on the shooter’s arm and was shaking his head. Encouraged, she allowed them to get close again, almost too close. When they started hurling rocks, she scampered through the trees before halting. Sure enough, they were following, pausing now and then to pick up more stones or broken sticks to throw.
          After a couple of near misses, she understood how far they could throw things, and stayed just out of reach. When their interest waned, she approached enough to tempt them a little farther. She had almost reached the trail when the human’s demeanor changed. They seemed to have figured out she was trying to lead them somewhere. Maybe they had the capacity to think. Who knew?
          More secure now, Foxy went straight to the baby still sleeping where she left him. With a final lick on the child’s chubby cheek, she scampered into the underbrush and circled to watch as the two men caught sight of the child. They barked a single word and rushed forward to sweep the surprised little kit into their forearms, planting kisses where Foxy had bestowed hers only moments before.
          Slightly alarmed when one of the humans drew out his short shooting stick, she understood when he pointed it skyward and made it go bang three times. Then he repeated the gesture.
          In moments, Foxy was aware that other humans—some with dogs—were converging on the spot. Time to go.
          But before she could move, one of the humans who’d followed her, turned to face the forest and doffed those silly things they put on their heads to cover the only natural fur they had. At least this one had enough sense to figure things out.
          Foxy answered with a sharp yip and headed for her den. Time for a good nap.


*****

Sounds far-fetched? Perhaps so, but there are real-life tales along these lines that will astound you.

By the way, Dreamspinner has released a publishing date of November 19, 2019 for my latest BJ Vinson novel, The Voxlightner Scandal.  They’ve even given me a buy link:  http://www.dsppublications.com/books/upcoming-releases-c

Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

My personal links: (Note the change in the Email address because I’m still getting remarks on the old dontravis21@gmail.com. PLEASE DON’T USE THAT ONE.)
                                                                                                    
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Buy links to Abaddon’s Locusts:


See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.


Thursday, July 25, 2019

Guardian


dontravis.com blog post #347

Courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net
I received a surprisingly good reception for my tentative step into the world of poetry. At least nobody snickered… on the Internet, at least.

This week I get back to home ground with a piece of flash fiction. Hope you like the story that follows. It was prompted by seeing a handsome young man with his guide dog strolling down East Central with what seemed—to me at least—an unusual amount of vigor and confidence. The black and tan shephard accompanying him was a beautiful animal.

*****
GUARDIAN
By Don Travis
I regained my independence the day Bony came into my life. Bony—or more properly Bonaparte—was a black and tan German Shepherd with a long, wet, inquisitive nose and sharply pointed, upright ears. Bony, you see, was my guide dog, my eyes, my guardian.
Let me explain. My name is Russell Gordon, and for twenty-two years I was your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, garden variety hunk, a golden-haired, violet-eyed, buffed, woman-chasing, over-achieving WASP. I had life by the balls and was squeezing hard when life got tired of it and squeezed back. Pushed back. Hell, it shoved me off the board. I came down with a rare exotic fever and damned near died. I recovered… except for my eyesight. Blind as a bat… well, not quite. I see shades of gray and glimpse mysterious, amorphous shapes now and then. But blind, all right, although no one would suspect unless I blundered into a chair or something.
My eyes, they tell me, look normal. I should probably wear dark glasses and carry a white cane, so I won’t shock strangers when they tumble to my affliction. I can always tell the moment it happens because everything changes… speech, attitude, everything. And I hate it. I’m the same guy I always was, so dammit, don’t treat me differently.
For two years, I hid out in my house—a small adobe in the university neighborhood of Albuquerque—eating, sleeping, sulking, and constantly working out on my exercise machine, awaiting the day the middle tissues behind the sclera straightened up and gave me my sight back. When that happened, I wasn’t returning to society a flabby weakling. I’d re-enter the sighted world the way I left it, a physically fit human being.
The doctors warned me against such high expectations, but I stubbornly refused to accept reality. After twenty-four months, I ventured outside with a cane… and experienced a paralyzing mortification. The cane was a symbol of helplessness, at least in my eyes…no pun intended. I put the damned thing aside for good when one solid citizen glared into my perfect, sightless eyes and indignantly admonished me for mimicking a blind man.
Finally acknowledging my handicap, I contacted the Association for the Blind, who helped bring me out of denial into acceptance and sent me to New Jersey where Bony entered my life. When he was a year and a half old, Bony underwent sixteen weeks of rigorous training. After we were carefully paired by the Seeing Eye staff, we spent another twenty days training as a team. Those folks did a whale of a job on both of us; we were a perfect match.
In the six months we’d been together, I’d learned to trust his judgment and accept his friendship—no, his love and devotion. For some odd reason, venturing out into the real world with a guide dog is less intimidating than relying on a white cane, at least for me. Not only do I have someone to guide me, I have a constant, agreeable companion, as well.
About three weeks ago, Bony surprised me with his first act of ‘intelligent disobedience.’ Returning from the library with some new audio books, we got off the city bus four blocks from my house. I customarily take a shortcut down an alleyway, but this time, Bony balked. When I urged him on, he blocked me with his seventy-pound bulk. Unaccustomed to being thwarted by my new friend, I groused a little and stepped around him. He stubbornly held his ground, growling low in his throat. Impatient to be on my way, I tugged on his harness and ordered him forward. My friend accompanied me down that alley, albeit unwillingly. Within twenty-five steps, I caught the odor of marijuana and understood his reluctance.
“Hey, bro!” said a voice from somewhere in front of me. “Neat dog. How come he’s got that harness thing on? You steal him from some blind slob?”
Giggles. A growl from Bony.
“Ought not rob our blind brothers,” a throaty rasp came from the left.
Bony snarled and shifted. I perceived a faint shadow step back hastily.
“No, he’s all mine. I have this problem. I can’t see.”
“You don’t look like no blind dude. Eyes look okay to me. Kinda pretty, ya know. Ain’t he got pretty eyes?”
“Real purty,” someone agreed. “Say, purty boy, how about you loan us a few bills. We getting low on Mary Jane.”
“Sorry, don’t carry money on me.” That much was true; it was safely zippered in one of Bony’s saddlebags.
“You don’t mind if we check it out for ourselves. You know, you being blind and all, might be some on you that you can’t see.”
His buddy’s laughter at the joke, raised my hackles. Shivers worked down my spine. When a hand fell on my hip, I flinched. Bony snapped; the hand went away.
“Better get that mutt under control, else I’m gonna have to cut him,” the front voice threatened.
I had no idea how Bony would react in a physical confrontation. Nonetheless, I put some steel in my voice. “Better get yourself under control, or you’ll be the one needing stitches.”
Before I understood what was happening, all hell broke loose. Bony lunged, jerking his halter from my grip. Someone cried out in pain. A hand grasped my waist and fumbled on my buttock for a wallet. Blindly, I loosed a roundhouse at a shadow… and connected. Almost three years of frustration and months of over-compensating physical exercise sent the thug sprawling on his butt. In moments, there was the sound of headlong, panicked flight with Bony hard on their heels. I shouted a command, and he returned to my side, panting slightly.
My heart skittering like a covey of frightened quail, I knelt and pulled him to me, singing his praises. I held him against my chest until my nerves settled. Bony took advantage of the moment to wash my face with wet kisses.
We made it home safely, and I grabbed a beer for me and a popsicle for Bony from the fridge before collapsing into my recliner to analyze what had happened. I was afraid I’d have fresh doubts about venturing into the sighted world ever again, Instead, I found my confidence firmly in place. Bony and I made a formidable pair. The dog was awesome and had proved he would fight for me.
Bonaparte Shepherd… guardian.


*****

Lots easier than writing a poem, I can tell you. Hope you liked it.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

My personal links: (Note the change in the Email address because I’m still getting remarks on the old dontravis21@gmail.com. PLEASE DON’T USE THAT ONE.)
                                                                                                    
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Buy links to Abaddon’s Locusts:


See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.


Thursday, July 18, 2019

Blue Columbine


dontravis.com blog post #346
  
Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Well, it happened again. Last week my post received 3133 hits in a single day… all from Israel. For the past few years, this has occurred about twice yearly. I’ve examined the key words for the blogs posted each time this happens and find no rhyme or reason for attracting such concentrated interest. On top of that, I’m lousy with key words.

In the past twelve months, I’ve had 1,000 hits in a single day from Russia, Vietnam, Brazil, India, and the Philippines, but these are more random. Someone suggested the Russian hits might be bots… but a thousand spies in a single day?

Let’s face it, I do not understand this world I live in today.

Enough of that. Today, something every out of the ordinary for me. Some regular readers know that a fellow by the name of Dennis Kastendiek and I mentor the Wordwright Writing Class each Monday from 1:30 p.m. to 3:30 p.m. at the North Domingo Baca Multigeneration Center here in Albuquerque. We spend the first thirty minutes talking about writing topics in general and the following hour and a half reading our members’ own works. We have everything from published writers to rank beginners, fiction and non-fiction, poets and essayists. We are an eclectic group.

The point of all of the above is that when we make class comments on poetry, I always preface my remarks with “I’m not a poet, but….” Guess what? Today’s post is a poem I wrote. I’m certain I broke every rule in the book, but on the other hand, I’m beginning to think there are no rules for poetry. (Poets everywhere: please don’t take me to task for that remark.)

Without further ado, here’s my effort. Let me know how you like it.

*****
BLUE COLUMBINE

I chance upon you in the shelter of a towering ponderosa.
Robbed of breath by your blue beauty, I pause to
glory in your flawless fives: sepals, petals, pistils.

I know you, Aquilegia alpina… a perennial, food for ancient aboriginals,
poison for fools who sample your seeds.
Your blossom, tall and handsome beyond reason, captures my eye,
and I snap you from your stem to closer study nature’s perfection.

I carry you, little dove—pocketed close to my heart—on my return home to
marvel at your secret shades:
sky blue with shadows of lavender, hints of cobalt, and wisps of teal.

Alas, you wither and wilt before your time, despite sips from a crystal urn.
Unable to let go, I press you between leaves of the Bard’s sonnets.
Days later, you hold traces of your prior majesty, but the comparison is spare.
To some, columbine means innocence; to others, foolishness.
Sadly, my latter has robbed you of your former.

Another season I tread that trail, anxious to see if you replenished yourself.
There, beneath the lofty pine, I find your offspring.
And once again, a single stalwart flower demands attention.
Wiser now, I forego the plucking of it,
preferring to tarry and drink my fill while still it lives.

Having learned not to hold so tightly, so selfishly, so stiflingly,
I walk the path often to witness your progeny prosper.
Far better to share that special bloom’s radiance with other passersby.
Until one day I find it gone, ripped from its stem by some admirer not
yet privy to the greatest lesson of love.


*****

That’s it… and it was harder than writing a book. I probably changed every one of the poem’s 265 words at least 5 times. How do I know it’s a poem since it doesn’t rhyme? Because it’s centered in the middle of the page, doesn’t follow any of the formatting rules, and uses punctuation not recognizable to prose writers. So it has to be a poem.

Seriously, I’m interested in your reaction to my effort.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

My personal links: (Note the change in the Email address because I’m still getting remarks on the old dontravis21@gmail.com. PLEASE DON’T USE THAT ONE.)
                                                                                                    
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Buy links to Abaddon’s Locusts:


See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.

Thursday, July 11, 2019

Sight Lends Substance


dontravis.com blog post #345

Courtesy of Pinterest.com
We’ll continue the dreamy, ethereal mood this week with a short piece I wrote for the blog. Let me know if it strikes a chord.

*****

SIGHT LENDS SUBSTANCE

I knew you ere I met you. With closed eyes, I clearly see the breadth of your shoulders, the flair of your ribs, the curve of your buttocks. And that face! Neither fair nor swarthy, but with golden skin unblemished by the razor’s burn. Beautiful, yet masculine. Oh, yes. How manly.
We held conversations in my head. Such wisdom from someone so young. Sparkling, intelligent, witty. I looked forward to our talks at the end of the day when the nightly news was done, and you alone shared my apartment. Delightful. Intimate. Ethereal.
As pleasant as this was, I searched for you diligently. Libraries, sports bars, soccer games, on the streets… everywhere. Each time someone moved out of my apartment complex, I waited with bated breath to see who the new tenant would be, only to be disappointed when someone totally unsuitable claimed the premises.
Over the years, I found some near-yous, some of whom were delightful; others odious. But none were genuine, so I lost interest. Perhaps I should have devoted the time and energy to develop a relationship with one or two, but they had frailties so human, they turned me off, as the saying goes. A few assignations were all I could manage. One, an altogether acceptable young man, more intrigued than the rest, hung on longer than most. But eventually, I drove him away because he wasn’t you.
I saw you today. The apartment in the building next to mine had gone vacant. I watched without hope as a stream of possibles entered and left with the complex’s rental agent. I must have been out when she showed you the apartment, because you had made yourself at home before I saw you shirtless on the patio that faces mine. My flesh crawled at that first sight, and my breath came in gasps. You were he! The man of my dreams. The specter who’d been with me all these years, my ideal. My David. And the sight of you lent you substance.
Careful watching showed no roommate. No visitors at all. I learned your routine and synchronized mine so far as my job allowed. Fortunately, I did most of my work from home. Medical billing is tedious but profitable.


On the third day after the new tenant moved in, I timed my departure to coincide with his and introduced myself as we met on the sidewalk.
 “Hi. I’m Lynn Proctor, your neighbor with the opposing patio.”
“Hi, Mr. Proctor, I’ve seen you out there a couple of times. My name’s Hank Warton.”
His grip was firm and encompassing. Hank. A manly name for such a graceful form.
“Everyone calls me Lynn,” I responded.
We paused long enough for me to learn he was an engineer working at a downtown firm, was single, and had moved here from Washington state. Then I asked why he chose Albuquerque for his new home.
“Beth… my fiancée,” he replied. “She took a job with an architectural firm here.” He chuckled. “Funny thing, I beat her here. She won’t move from Seattle until the middle of next month.”
Downer. But at least I had five weeks or so to develop a relationship. And I worked at it hard. I wouldn’t let go of my paragon without a battle. I introduced him to my favorite sports bar, where he was a great hit talking baseball like a pro with the guys. I noticed he drank a bit too much and got a little edgy before the evening was over. Watching his pecs play as he drove us home, thrust such frailties from my mind.
I unlimbered my tennis racket when I learned he liked the game and managed to hold my own. In fact, I beat him about as much as he beat me, which caused his shoulders to tense. During the second set, we argued over whether a ball that hit beyond the line was fair or foul. I gave in when the discussion started to get heated. My building resentment dropped away as we showered alongside one another in the club.
Then came the day when Hank rapped on my patio door after work one day. He was dressed in shorts and a snug polo shirt that showed his six pack to full advantage.
“Whatcha up to tonight?” he asked after I opened the screen.
“Nothing. Unless you want to go to the bar.”
“Nah, don’t feel like it. Just thought maybe we could hang.”
My heart skipped a beat. Lord, would my yesteryear dreams finally come true? Whoa there, Lynn. Don’t rush things. Let him set the pace. “Sounds good to me. How about a drink.”
“Scotch if you have it.”
“Rocks or neat?”
“What kind?”
“Laphroaig ten-year-old or Johnnie Walker Blenders’,” I said.
“Laphroaig neat.”
We settled in my living room with our drinks. He sat with his legs splayed, which about sent me over the moon. The hair on his legs was lighter than the dark brown on his head. Not thick, not intrusive… just sexy. Had he noticed me giving him the once over? Probably hard not to. I took refuge in my drink.
We talked about his work and his firm a bit, but I had the feeling he wasn’t saying what he came to say. By the time we finished our second drink, I’d had enough.
“You’ve obviously got something on your mind. What is it? Spit it out.”
He speared me with big, brown, expressive eyes, sending shivers up and down my spine.
“I don’t want you to think I run around on Beth all the time. But….” He gave a great sigh. “But I’m getting hard up. She’s been delayed by two weeks, and I’m not sure I can wait. Do you know any women who might accommodate us?”
I gazed at his smooth, slightly irregular, and unbearably handsome features and blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Hank, we don’t need any women. I can give you what you’re looking for.”
His crooked smile brought me to my knees in front of him. He permitted my touch, cooperated as I stripped him, and moaned as I ministered to him. I took my time and made it so good for him I thought he was having a fit during orgasm.
Afterward, he flexed his broad shoulders and stretched his arms to the ceiling. Oh, man… sex on steroids. A moment later, he rose, and performed a striptease in reverse. As he smoothed the shirt over his trim belly, he gave me a sated look.
“Thanks, guy. I needed that. See you around.”
My mouth dropped open. “Are… are you going to just leave me here like this? I have needs, too, you know.”
His eyes widened. “Hey, guy, if that’s what you want, go find yourself a queer.”
As he strolled with manly grace through the patio door and stepped over the fence to his place, I almost forgave him his callousness.


I knew you ere I met you. With closed eyes, I clearly see the breadth of your shoulders, the flair of your ribs, the curve of your buttocks. And that face!
I’ve met some near-yous, of course. But never the real you. I’ll continue my search because sight lends substance to us all. But in the meantime, I’ll live with the insubstantial you in my head as consolation.

*****

I’ll wager that at one time or the other in our lives, we’ve all encountered a situation similar to this… regardless of our sexual orientation. If you want to tell me about yours, email me at don.travis@aol.com.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

My personal links: (Note the change in the Email address because I’m still getting remarks on the old dontravis21@gmail.com. PLEASE DON’T  USE THAT ONE.)
                                                                                                    
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Buy links to Abaddon’s Locusts:


See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.

Thursday, July 4, 2019

Down Where I Live


dontravis.com blog post #344

Courtesy of Freepik
Something a little different this week. Last week’s story got a host of hits, 2600 or so. Let’s see if our dream piece this time can beat Me’N Mazie and Nigel.

*****
DOWN WHERE I LIVE

I lived in an ebony world, a smothering, unchanging lightlessness filled with absolutely nothing. Then there was a faint glow, although I didn’t comprehend “glow,” any better than I understood “darkness,” recognizing it only as a miniscule change in my Stygian cocoon. Then the meaningless noises intruding on this world of oblivion magically morphed into voices discussing some poor sucker in a coma. Who was in a coma? Before I could grapple for an answer, a headache came roaring up and everything shut down, sending me back into that unrelieved blackness.
The halo was brighter the second time I surfaced. Two Hospital voices hovered over me. One voice brought the scent of mint; the other, something less pleasant. They discussed CAT scans and trauma. Brain swelling and edema. Plish. Plosh. Mish. Mash. Mush. But one thing was clear… some dude was in real trouble.
I figured out I was the sucker in trouble the moment I heard my mother’s anxious voice falsely cooing how well I looked and how handsome I was. I knew it was Mother because she carried the perfume of rosewater. Panic bubbled up within me, and even though I couldn’t feel anything, I knew I was bucking something terrible, jerking like I was in the middle of a gigantic orgasm.
That special headache carried me back down where I lived even as I longed for another voice…an eighteen-year-old baritone still deepening with growing maturity, one that called me “Dumbshit” and “Summabitch” with an easy familiarity that sent a thrill knifing through me. Orion Dozier…best friend. Orry! Grew up together. Played soccer together. Whispered about sex together. Stumbled awkwardly toward a new kind of relationship until this coma thing got in the way. Why hadn’t I heard his voice? His absence slugged me in the metaphysical solar plexus so hard I zonked out right then and there, returning to the place where it was safe and comfortable.


“Wake up, you summabitch!” The vibrant, masculine voice reached down where I lived and yanked me into the glow. Orry! Orry was here. “Stop faking it. Say something, dammit!” Even though I felt nothing, I knew he had pulled a chair up and held my hand. “Damn, Thad, I’ve been imagining all kinds of horrible things, but you’re still as handsome as the male lead in a B movie. Man, I wish I’d been with you when old Butch rammed his Austin Healy into that oak tree.”
There was a strange sound like a gulp or a gasp before the voice went on. “Thought I’d lost you, man. Couldn’t have stood it. I love you, you dumbshit. There! How’s that for a confession? Guys aren’t supposed to say stuff like that, but it’s true. You better wake up and get outa this bed, you hear me? We got lots of things to do yet. You’n me together. Things buddies do.” The voice halted for a moment. “Oh, Lord! What if you can hear me? They said I should talk to you, but nobody said if you can hear us.”
My headache came thundering back as I wrestled with his words. They were important… if I could just wrap my arms around them. Then the engine shut down and dumped me back into darkness.


My days sorted themselves into Hospital, Family, and Orry, and I was lying there just below the surface in the time between Family and Orry when my whole body gave a sudden jerk. A jerk! Wasn’t that wonderful? I had moved. My legs tingled. Tingled, dammit. Gotta have feelings to tingle, and they damned well tingled. Lordy mercy. My arms prickled. What does that say when a spasm and a tingle and a prickle are the high points of a guy’s whole existence?
There was a commotion all around me, and I heard a Hospital voice… the one who trailed mint. “Paralytic spasm. Let Dr. Morris know when he comes in. It’s an encouraging sign.”
That’s all I remember because the darkness came to claim me once again. No fair. I hadn’t heard Orry’s calming voice.


“Hey, Thad! Hear you practically got up and raped one of the nurses!” Orry was back. “In case you didn’t know it, it’s Friday night, and I told your folks I’d give them some rest. Gonna spend the entire night right here in this chair.”
My heart soared; my frame gave a little jump!
“Crap, man!” he squawked. A pause. “You okay, Thad? Don’t scare me like that.” I heard him scoot the chair over by the bed so he could give me the lowdown on the day’s events, but despite everything I could do, I sank back into that dark place while he was droning on.
“… realize how close we are, bro.” It was Orry. I about panicked wondering how much I had missed. He gave a laugh. “Remember camping out in the back yard when we were kids? I got a kick outa sleeping beside you. I always wanted to snuggle over and touch you. Didn’t have the nerve.” He gave an embarrassed snicker. “Afraid you’d wake up and clock me.”
He took my hand, and I felt it! Sensations—warmth, pressure. A wonderful sense of comfort engulfed what had been my nerveless body.
“Now I understand what was going on,” his voice got incredibly low and thick. “How come we never did things, Thad? You know, personal things? I always wanted to. I remember once you were wearing one of those muscle shirts, and I saw how your shoulders narrowed to a vee right down to your butt…like a man’s.” Another chuckle. “I about broke my neck trying to see my back in the mirror. And you know what? I was built like that, too.”
I lay there in my hospital bed breathing gently without the help of my respirator and listened to him ramble on as he held my hand. He spoke in a low voice—sometimes thick with emotion—to confide his feelings for me. His wants. His desires. The light grew brighter… brighter still. He spoke of the days when our bodies were changing, maturing, and how we struggled to comprehend what was happening. And now—lying half in and half out of a dark, bottomless place—I finally understood his meaning.
He went quiet for a moment; I willed him to continue. He did, recalling sleepovers, and double dates and long talks when we edged closer to what we really wanted but didn’t have the courage to acknowledge.
Oh, Lord! Here came the darkness to take me away again. This time it was unwelcome. I fought against it, and heard him gasp as my hand closed on his.
Then I was back in my black velvet place. But that was all right. Orry would be there when I surfaced. And I would surface again. I had something to live for now. Someone to live for. A future to experience. Until then, I’d rest in my dark cocoon.

*****

The optimists among us will say Thad came out of his coma to embrace a new life with Orry, and they rode off into the sunset. Doubters will admit Thad regained his health, but in the glare of daylight, neither managed to capture what they discovered in dreamland. “Life got in the way,” they’d say. Pessimists will believe Thad was kidding himself and remained in a coma—or worse. Where do you fit in?

Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

My personal links: (Note the change in the Email address because I’m still getting remarks on the old dontravis21@gmail.com. PLEASE DON’T  USE THAT ONE.)
                                                                                                    
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Buy links to Abaddon’s Locusts:


See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.

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