Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees (24 page)

“No, just horny. Testosterone does weird shit to men. Makes us into animals being guided by the heat-seeking missile in our shorts.”

Kyle agreed to a degree. “You speak the truth, but at the moment your missile is not in your shorts but is rubbing up against my leg.”

“Mano! Hands off my boyfriend!” I scolded, reaching across to see if Kyle’s statement was true.

“It’s not my hands, Joseph,” Mano corrected.

“Put that thing away!” I ordered.

“Where? You two won’t help a man out here? And remember that all I wore yesterday was my Speedo. You know, if I don’t… relieve some pressure, I’m never gonna be able to get this thing back into that little itty-bitty piece of black Spandex. And when people start screaming as I go through the lobby, well, I’m just going to tell them that this is your fault. You did this to me.”

“Mano. You lying sack of excrement.”

“Sack of excrement?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’ve got culture!”

Both Mano and Kyle burst out laughing at that point. When the laughter had finally died away, Mano said, “I like you guys. I’m so glad I got to meet you yesterday. You two have been such fun. I haven’t laughed so much in years. Thank you both so much.”

“I’m glad we could help.”

“You want to help me lance the lizard?”

“No!” both of us shouted simultaneously.

“Oh, I see, you just like to watch. No problem.”

“Mano, there will be no jerking off in this bed.”

“Okay. I can just fuck you. That works too.”

“Sorry,” Kyle said, “that’s my job.”

“Dude,” Mano said to me. “You suck that and you ride that monster? I’m impressed.”

“He’s not the only awesome guy here,” I noted.

“I guess not. Guys?”

“No!” we said without waiting for Mano to ask his question.

“What? All I was going to ask is that I get to watch you two doing the deed. I don’t really believe that little Joe over there is capable of handling the harpoon of love over here.”

“You are one twisted fucker, you know that?” I said.

“Well, duh? Sane people were all home in bed in their jammies having their Sleepytime Tea when I was hauling your sorry drunken asses back to this room last night. Twisted fuckers rule!”

“Mano,” I said, “I’m glad we met you too. Twisted or rectangular or whatever, you seem like a good guy. Thanks.”

“Finally. Does it always take that much work to get a simple thank-you out of you guys?”

Kyle looked at me and said, “Three, two, one.” And then together we said, “Thank you, Mano!”

“You’re very welcome. Now look away, I’ve got a wienie to whack over here.”

“You are—” I started.

“Adorable. I know. Now hush. I need to get a mental picture of this one lying on the bed all naked and lanky.” He closed his eyes and grabbed his penis once again.

“Hey, babe?” I said to Kyle. “You’re a doctor. Do you think you could castrate him before we go to eat? I think it would make the world a safer place for motherhood and shit like that.”

“It wouldn’t be a safer place,” Mano said. “All the mothers would be living with pissed-off daddies because I wasn’t on hand to provide a little holiday distraction for them. And let’s face it, I’m performing a valuable public service. Some of my favorite strangers have been daddies.”

“So, Kyle? What’s the verdict?”

“I don’t have a rusty shoehorn, so probably can’t nip off the little nubbins this morning.”

“I’ve got a pair of fingernail clippers. Would that work?”

Kyle reached over and grabbed Mano’s balls, causing the man to jump from the unexpected touch. (His eyes had been closed, after all.) “Nah, I think they’d be insufficient for the task at hand.”

“Um, excuse me, Kyle?”

“Yes?”

“You can let go of my nuts now, please.”

“Really?” Kyle said, tightening his grip a little bit rather than pulling away.

“Yes, really. Um, dude! Loosen the grip a little bit.”

“What? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Kyle, you took an oath to do no harm.”

“He’s got you there,” I agreed.

“True, but I also seem to have him—by the short curlies.”

“I’m so happy to see that I’ve found my lost tribe. You two are as twisted as I am.”

“I’ll have you know that Kyle is a fine, upstanding member of the medical community.”

Mano reached across and grabbed a handful of his own. “No, not so upstanding at the moment. But with a little time, I think I could get him upright.”

“Okay!” Kyle said as he released Mano’s balls and pulled away from the man’s groping hand. He rolled over to me and said, “Protect me. He scares me.” He tried batting his eyelashes.

“Babe, you don’t do the damsel in distress very well.”

“Oh, shut up and protect me!”

I switched places with Kyle and put myself between him and Mano. I smiled at Mano and said, “Consider me to be the Berlin Wall. Don’t get tangled up in my barbed wire.”

“Huh? What’s the Berlin Wall?”

“What’s the Berlin Wall? Didn’t you ever study history? Jesus! The American education system! Just don’t try crossing me—I’ll bite.”

“Uuuh, I like biters.” Mano smiled.

“Not where I’d bite,” I said.

“Jeesh! One tries to pull my nuts off, and the other one wants to inflict bodily harm with his teeth. I bow to the Twisted Sister.”

“Wait a minute. You know about the Twisted Sister band, but you don’t know about the Berlin Wall?”

“Of course I know about the Berlin Wall. I’ve even been there. I was just fucking with you. You’re too easy.”

“Ooooah, two points for the naked boy,” Kyle said.

“Only two? Really, I would think my dick alone would earn me something like twenty, maybe thirty points. And then my ass. I mean, really? Have you seen my ass?” he asked, rolling over onto his belly and stroking his ass. “This is one fine piece of man ass. Two points? My God! Two points? My ass alone is worth fifty points. I’ll have you know I’ve made grown men cry with just a glimpse of my ass.”

“It wasn’t a glimpse of your ass; it was because their credit card didn’t clear and they weren’t gonna be able to touch your ass. That’s what made them cry.”

“You calling me a whore, city boy?”

“Hey, if the condom fits—”

“But he means that in the nicest possible way,” Kyle added.

I just smiled an innocent smile and batted my eyelashes.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a public service. I spread the cheer all around free of charge. I’m the gift that keeps on giving.”

“Like an STD?” I asked.

“Among other things,” Mano said. “Now see what you’ve done. I’ve lost my erection.”

“Great. Stick it in your Speedos and let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

“It’s not even light outside yet. I’m usually just getting home at this hour, not going out at this hour.”

“Come on,” I shouted as I jumped out of bed and threw Mano’s Speedo at him. “Stick it in.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do ever since you woke up!”

“In the shorts!”

“Fine! I’m still gonna be wearing just a Speedo at five in the morning!”

“No you’re not. Here,” I said, tossing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt at the man. “These should fit you. We’re about the same size.”

“
We are not!
” Mano complained. “You’re short, and I’m taller and hung way better.”

“Mano, you’re just about the same height as I am. And honey, half the world is hung better than I am. I’ve learned to deal with it. Now get dressed.”

A couple of minutes later, all clothed and semirespectable, the three of us left the room and went off in search of breakfast.

Over the following few days, Kyle and I toured Oahu from one end to the other, hiked to amazing waterfalls, swam in the ocean, cruised men with Mano on the beach, had dinner with Mano and Jake several nights, and then moved on to Maui for a couple of days. Kyle fell in love with Maui and wanted to move immediately. Somehow I managed to get him onto the airplane to fly back to New York. Fortunately our flight home was uneventful, and Kyle actually got to read, eat, and take a nap.

When Kyle and I returned to work the following day, we were both delighted to have people remark on our beautiful tans and the relaxed looks on our faces. We had both had a wonderful time, and Kyle had gotten to make the journey of a lifetime, a trip that he had dreamt about for years but never really thought he’d get to make. He had been just about convinced for many years that he would somehow get trapped by his mother into marrying some woman in an arranged marriage, have to move back to Oklahoma, and live out his days never seeing anything of the world. He was delighted beyond words that those early images had not come to pass.

T
HE
wedding was held in the spring—a New York City springtime wedding with tons of guests, including Kyle’s mother and a couple of his sisters (and their obviously unhappy and uncomfortable husbands). It wasn’t clear if they were unhappy at being in New York City or because they were at a gay wedding. I was assuming it was the gay wedding part that gave them trouble.

We were both good and didn’t ask any of his sister’s husbands to dance with us at the reception, although it took every ounce of Kyle’s focus at one point to prevent that from happening. He had to agree, though, that it would have been so much fun to see how the men reacted to the invitation, especially since their wives were having a great time at the reception.

If I may say so—and I can because I was there and am writing this story—the grooms looked stunningly handsome in our matching black tuxedos, each with a single, perfect white rose on the lapel. At last we publicly proclaimed our love and our intention to live and love together for the rest of our lives, through thick and thin, through good and bad, through tears and laughter.

We danced, we ate, we laughed, we cried. We celebrated life with our community. All of our coworkers were there. Kyle’s lesbian friend and her partner were there. Even Mano was there, although that one had taken a bit of persuasion, a free plane ticket, and a promise that the temperature wouldn’t drop below sixty degrees throughout his visit. We topped off the day with a ride through Central Park in a horse-drawn carriage.

The next morning we hopped onto a plane and flew to Key West to celebrate our honeymoon at an all-male, all-gay, all-clothing optional resort, where we spent our days lounging naked by the pool and our nights pounding one another into the mattress in smoking hot passion over and over again. Neither one of us ever seemed to be able to get enough of the other man’s body, finding something new to lick, to taste, to tease every time we got naked together.

Over the years that followed, we laughed, we cried, we argued, we consoled one another. We traveled the world, we had good times and bad. In other words, we lived life, and we did it together. Our bond only grew stronger the longer we were together. Anytime we were kept apart because one had to travel and the other couldn’t get away, we each missed the other terribly and couldn’t wait to get back together.

Before I end this story, there is one last thing to recount. Our very first spring together, we made the drive to Vermont, where Kyle worked with my father on producing a year’s supply of maple syrup. The two men worked like dogs. Every night Kyle crawled into bed and absolutely collapsed, physically exhausted. But the very next morning, he was up again at first light and was right back to work. Everyone who tasted the syrup that year thought it was one of the best seasons for syrup in a number of years. Back home, Kyle told me that he was more proud of those comments than he was of just about anything else in the rest of his life.

When I pressed him to explain, he told me that he had never made something tangible with his hands like the two of them had that week. He told me that while he used his hands and his mind to save lives and mend broken bodies, this just felt different, and that somehow this connected him with the land, with history, and inserted him more fully into my family than any other way he knew how. And it was good.

When we drove back to New York, Kyle slept most of the way because he was absolutely worn out. Going back to work a twelve-hour day in the ER seemed like a luxury, according to Kyle after his first day back at the hospital. On the drive home, our car had been loaded with maple syrup, enough to hold us over the next year and enough to give away some to friends.

By that point I knew Kyle pretty well, so it was crystal clear to me that he was blown away that my father had even gone so far as to have special labels printed for the syrup containers that explained it was the product of the two of them working together. I was proud because he was proud. Those simple words on those plastic bottles were very important to both of us for quite different reasons. Several of his co-workers reported to me later that Kyle had been so excited as he gave a small bottle to every one of the folks in the ER. I wish I could have been there to see it, but through their reporting, it was as if I had been there.

Life was good for little squirrels with big nuts, and while it had been a hard climb to get up the big tree, the view from up top was spectacular and worth every bit of effort required to get there.