Two Sides of the Same Coin (5 page)

My friend Sandy, who I went to school with, was our waitress. It struck me again just how pretty and nice she was. She always seemed to have one or two straight dudes sniffing after her, usually without any success. She had one of the most engaging smiles I’d ever seen. We’d always been close through school.

“Hey, Sandy, how ya doin’?”

“Hey there, Jeff, no complaints, how about you?”

“Fair to middlin’.”

“I hear your ranch got hit by rustlers.” Sandy looked at me quizzically.

“Yeah, Sheriff told me we aren’t the only ones.”

“No, the Nelsons got hit also, off Wild Horse Road, and the Flannigans off of the other side of Lucky Jeff Bluff. Too bad they still don’t hang cattle thieves, but they gotta catch ’em first. So what will you boys have to drink tonight?”

“I’ll have an Alaskan Amber Ale. Sandy, this here’s my friend Robert up from California. Robert, this is Sandy; she and I went to school together, and we were always real good friends. Her dad is the sheriff.”

“Hi Robert, what can I get for you?”

“I’d like a hot chocolate.”

“I’m sorry; we don’t have hot chocolate, coffee maybe?”

“
No hot chocolate
? It’s cold out! How do people up here warm up?”

“People up here warm up with beer.” Sandy rolled her eyes at me.

“I’ll have a cup of tea then.”

“Okay, an Alaskan Amber Ale and a cup of tea.” I was treated to hearing Sandy mutter under her breath something about an uppity pansy, and Robert mutter something about cretins. The evening was shaping up to be a lot of fun.

“Well, Jeffrey, just what is good here?”

“They got great burgers, and you can’t go wrong with one of their steaks either.”

“I’ve stopped eating red meat. And don’t suggest the chicken or fish; I don’t want anything deep fried.” Just then Sandy came back, and delivered our drinks, and took our orders—a bacon cheeseburger and fries for me, and a veggie burger and a small side salad with no dressing for Robert.

“So Jeffrey, just when are you coming back home?”

“I told you I’m thinking on it. Don’t push. Are you feelin’ any better after the soak in the tub and aspirin?”

“I ache all over.” I had never realized just how whiney Robert was. He seemed to realize it also. He did backpedal a bit. “Jeffrey, I appreciate your helping me clean up, checking me over, and everything else. I’m grumpy and bitchy because I hurt.”

“I understand Robert; after dinner and a good night’s sleep, you’ll be right as rain.”

I decided to change the subject a bit.

“Hey, look a band is settin’up.” Robert followed my gaze as several guys in T-shirts or Western shirts and cowboy hats were setting up speakers and other equipment. Once they got started, their first song was an Alan Jackson hit, “Chasin’ the Neon Rainbow.” They weren’t half bad, and I was soon tapping my boot along with the beat. Robert made some obnoxious comment about hick music.

“I thought you enjoyed country music?”

“It’s one thing to have it in a gay atmosphere and quite another in a redneck atmosphere. Jeffrey, you have to understand. This is culture shock for me. The way you were raised was very different from how I was raised. You enjoy all this stuff, but to me it’s very intimidating. I keep expecting someone named Bubba to come up and try to start a fight.” I reached over and touched his hand.

“I do understand because I feel the same way sometimes in San Francisco. You’ve showed me a different world there. Let me show you my world.”

“Jeffrey, so many people I know disdain your world. I’ve been surrounded by them all my life, and some of it certainly has rubbed off. It’s very difficult for me to accept the hunting and fishing, the tobacco between the cheek and gum, the way men interact here. I don’t understand at all how I should act.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Come back to San Francisco with me.”

“Just now that is not an option. I have to figure out what to do about Dad’s estate, the ranch, and all the stuff here. While you’re here, can’t you try to at least have a bit of a good time?”

Just then Sandy walked up.

“Hey, Jeff, boss asked me to get out on the dance floor to get people started, and I need a partner. You still remember how to two-step?”

Sandy used to occasionally go with me to the local rodeos and dances. We had even gone to our high school prom together. She knew I was gay and had no problem with it. She was actually like a little sister, and we both loved to dance.

“Easy as fallin’ off a horse.” I smiled at her, stood up, and held out my hand. We walked to the dance floor as Robert made a snide remark about “First blond hicks with shit on their boots and now a woman.”

As we got to the dance floor, I put my hand at her waist and began to lead her around the floor.

“So who’s your lady friend back there?”

I didn’t bother correcting her sarcastic remark. “Friend of mine from San Francisco.” I also didn’t bother to let her know we were involved and lived together.

She looked up at me with frank appraisal in her eyes. “You can do a lot better than that. Don’t sell yourself short. That one seems to hate just about everything about who we are. Who you are.” I didn’t answer, and she continued, “What’d he mean by blond hicks?”

“I was talkin’ to Mike at the ranch, and he’s reading all sorts of shit into a conversation. Sandy, he’s really unhappy here. The guys got him on a horse, and he got bucked off. He’s sore, he’s in a bad mood, and he knows he doesn’t fit in here. He doesn’t understand it, and a lot of folks are critical of what they don’t understand. Please try to cut him some slack for me?”

“I’ll try, but like I said, you can do lots better than him. Mike is a good guy, lots of hurt, lots of damage, but he’s got a heart of gold.”

“I didn’t know you knew him so well; you two dating?”

She laughed and said, “You’d have a lot better chance to date him than I would. You’ve got all the right equipment so to speak.” While I was sure Mike was gay, I didn’t make a comment. “He’s helped me with my car a few times. When it was broken down, he gave me rides to work and to the store.”

“Hmmm… he seems real hot and cold to me. One minute he’s friendly, and the next he just shuts down and can make some pretty bitchy comments.”

“Your Dad pegged him right. He is so afraid of getting hurt again, he drives folks away before they can get close to him.” By then the band was ending the song. Several other couples had joined us on the floor.

I tipped my hat to Sandy and said, “Thanks for the dance ma’am.”

She laughingly slapped my arm. “Oh, go sit down and I’ll get your food.”

Robert was pouting back at the booth. Our burgers came, and I ordered another beer and tried to tune him out and listen to the band. We mostly ate in silence. I picked up the check and we headed out. Winslett is a little tourist town in the Methow Valley. It has an old West theme. Despite the lights of the town, you could see lots of stars in the crisp cold air. We got back to the truck and headed on to the ranch. After a few minutes, Robert mentioned he needed to take a piss.

“Why the hell didn’t you use the john at the restaurant?”

“I didn’t think of it then. Stop at the rest area ahead.”

Wordlessly I pulled into the rest area and found a parking place close to the restroom. Robert jumped out and hobbled stiffly to the men’s room. While I was waiting, I noticed a few cars parked strategically with single men in them. I dismissed them as restroom queens, closeted and hidden. I ended up doing a double take; one truck looked like Mike’s. It also seemed someone ducked when I parked; I was pretty sure it was Mike. Not too many guys have that combination of light blond hair and a dark red beard. Not too many that handsome either. None of my business I thought. Robert got back and we headed on home.

N
EXT
morning, I was laying in bed just waking up slowly when I heard knocking on the door. Robert had stayed in the spare room since he said he was sore. This was beginning to be a pattern. Without bothering to dress, I ran down the stairs and to the door. Wayne was there, a crazy look in his eyes.

“Pedro got
shot
! He was out where the cattle got rustled. Josh rode up there this morning to take watch and found him.”

“Did you call the sheriff and an ambulance?”

“It’s too late for an ambulance.”

I realized I was standing there in just my long johns. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll get some coffee for you and some whiskey. You look like you could use some.”

As I headed up the stairs to get dressed, I heard Wayne echo my thoughts, “Shit, shit, shit!”

Chapter Three

T
HE
wind whipped across the grassy valley south of Winslett. The trees were fewer here than back up at the ranch, and the trees had pretty much all lost their leaves. It was cold out. The chill in the air echoed the chill we were all feeling at the loss of Pedro. The sky was cloudy; it mirrored the somber mood in the cemetery. Wayne stood to one side of me, and José was on the other. Josh and Mike each stood a few feet away. I hadn’t known it, but Pedro had a girlfriend, Maria, from Wenatchee. Maria was just out of nursing school. She had olive skin, green eyes, and glossy black hair, which reached down to the middle of her back. Although she was short and what a lot of folks would call corn-fed, she possessed an ease and grace that made her shine. She sobbed softly. I tuned in from my thoughts and heard the priest intoning, “…in the sure and glorious hope of his resurrection. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust….” Most of the onlookers crossed themselves, and the priest turned to speak with Maria.

Pedro was an orphan who had come up from Mexico as a child to live with his aunt and uncle here in eastern Washington. They took the time and expense to get him legal status. Unfortunately, they died a few years later in a car crash. I ended up paying for Pedro’s funeral, as he really didn’t have anyone else. It added to the money worries about the ranch, but it was the least I could do.

“Hey, Jeff,” Wayne asked, “The boys and I are gonna meet at One Eyed Jack’s Saloon and raise a few to Pedro’s memory. You wanna come?”

“Yeah, I’ll stop by.”

“Good. See ya there then.” He clapped me on the shoulder and headed to his truck followed by Josh and José. He turned to Mike and asked, “You comin’?”

“I was gonna ask if I could catch a ride back with Jeff.” Wayne looked at me long enough for me to reply, “Fine by me,” and headed off. Mike came up to me and walked with me to my truck.

“Jeff, can I talk with you?”

“Talk away, Mike,” I said with a smile.

“Uh… maybe we could stop somewheres. It’s kind of personal, and I don’t want no one listening.”

“Sure thing.” I pulled the truck out of the cemetery lot and headed off on a quiet road that ran to the north of Winslett, rather than into town. Mike didn’t say a word as I drove for a couple of miles and finally stopped at a pull-out view area with a couple of picnic tables. This late in the season, I was pretty sure we’d be the only ones up there.

“So what’s up?”

“Well, I guess I don’t know where to start.”

I just looked at him expectantly.

“I guess you know the sheriff talked to all of us about Pedro gettin’ shot.”

“Yeah, he talked to me too. He even talked with Sandy at One Eyed Jack’s to make sure I was there for dinner like I said.”

“I told him I was just drivin’ around thinkin’. And you remember I got into that fight with Pedro cause he put salt in the sugar bowl for a joke?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, the sheriff told me I’m a suspect. I can’t account for where I was, and there had been the fight between me and Pedro. He told me not to leave town.”

“Sheriff Johnston is a pretty good guy, and you were out there driving around weren’t you? I thought I saw your truck at the rest area, so maybe someone else saw you walking into the john or something.”

He was silent for a few moments and then gave me a look of pure, abject misery.

“You hanker after men don’t ya, Jeff?” I nodded. I had no idea why he changed the subject, but he kept hemming and hawing and saying things like “Well, uh….” Given his previous behavior, I was pretty sure we played on the same team, and now I was just about positive. I kept silent, however, to give him the chance to talk.

“I… I uh… I’m like you. I’m a fag!” The pain in his voice was sharp, and I knew he was admitting to something he really couldn’t face himself.

“Mike, there ain’t nothing wrong with that. You’re the way God made you. It’s not the big deal you think it is if you’re gay.”

“I hate that word gay!” he spat out vehemently. “There’s nothing gay about it. I want to be normal; I don’t want to be like this. I don’t wanna wear dresses, or listen to show tunes, or be an interior decorator. I don’t wanna be Michael. I want to be just plain Mike. Not turn into some lonely old man in a dress.”

“Mike, I’m gay and I think I’m just a normal guy. I don’t wear dresses, or listen to show tunes, and don’t know the first thing about interior decorating. You’re just as normal as I am.”

“Yeah, tell that to my old man.”

“Your father has problems with you bein’ gay?”

“Yeah, the fuckin’ asshole! Piss on him!” The anger he was showing was almost a visible force. The words were not only angry, but had a painful quality as if they were ripping him apart. He took a few deep breaths and calmed down a bit. “Your dad was the only one I could talk to about it. I guess he figured out where the bear shit in the woods as far as I’m concerned and told me about you. You aren’t gonna go ape shit on me are you?”

I could tell he was thinking of my reaction to his talking about my dad when the cattle were rustled. “No. I’m glad he was there for you. He was for me. He was a great man. He saw people for who they were, not what color, or religion, or ethnic group, or whatever.”

“Yeah, maybe if he’d been my dad instead of the fuckwad I got, I wouldn’t be just some dumb hick redneck.”

“Buddy, I got the feeling there’s a lot more to you than a dumb hick redneck. You’re at least a good lookin’ dumb hick redneck.” I wasn’t sure how he’d take my attempt at humor, but I did get a small smile. “Why you so down on your father, Mike?” He paused a minute or two and then began to speak as if he was being drowned in the deepest well of hopelessness and despair.