Authors: Patrick McGhee
Wally had fooled himself into thinking that it might be different this time. He was angry, but not at Tony. Wally was angry with himself. He pulled on the elastic waistband of his sleep shorts until he could see down inside. Yep, it’s all there. What’s wrong that I am not good enough for Tony? He makes these incredible promises when he needs cash. Then he sleeps with somebody else. And what do I do? I keep going back for refills. Sure, Tony. Take all my money, Tony. I am your friendly green doormat plastered with pictures of famous presidents. Walk on me, buddy!
A few straggling tears trickled down Wally’s cheeks, then a gushing horde. He threw himself on the sofa, burying his face deep in an overstuffed pillow. It was a cleansing sob.
Later, Wally got up and headed for the shower. He decided it was time to clean up, get dressed, and do what any other self-respecting, hurting person would do. He would go shopping! And . . . a cell phone would be the number one item on his list.
As Wally climbed into the shower, he was in no mood to sing. The sob session had left him vulnerable to more tears. Perhaps, something unusual, even preposterous, would be a better shower pastime. For some reason, flashes of a television documentary about ostriches began to traipse about in Wally’s mind. Soap, shampoo, hot water, and ostriches. Actually, quite relaxing. Interesting creatures these big birds. And some of their habits--strange indeed. As Wally toweled dry, he wondered, Do ostriches stick their heads in the sand to avoid reality? Or, do they stick their heads in the sand because they need to cry?
Wally was a fussy dresser. He always wanted to look like he stepped off the cover of a catalog. Today he honestly didn’t give a ding. If every hair stayed in place and all his colors matched, that would be fine. If not, who cared? He might be a hodgepodge of designs and materials, but he would be a decent hodgepodge. The fact is that everything did match, except for the socks. One was navy, the other black. Either Wally did not notice the color blunder, or he knew about it and was not going to fix it. Otherwise, there were no wrinkles, no spots, no shabby places.
Wally figured the best place to shop for clothing and cell phones, was Bradley Square Mall. It was northeast of Poplar Hill on the outskirts of Brockton. As he walked toward the entrance, he reminded himself that the primary purpose of this trip was a cell phone. If he happened to stumble upon a shirt that struck his fancy, or some comfortable walking shoes at just the right price, he might get those. The cell phone was a must. Wally had missed too many calls from Tony. He was tired of making excuses. He was tired of getting excuses.
Wally entered through the west portal of the mall and made his way to the Concourse of the Four Seasons. The trees, fountain, park benches, picnic tables--with a glass dome covering all--made this a perfect hangout when the weather was extreme. Wally had not come this morning to escape a thunderstorm or a blizzard. He had come to consult the billboard with the mall map and directory. Wally was familiar with the clothing stores and their eye-catching displays. Shoe stores were usually nearby. But cell phone stores? These would be like the specialty shops tucked in every cove and corner of the mall. Wally needed some names and locations. Thank heavens the stores were listed alphabetically by category.
Wally had no idea so many phone companies had outlets at Bradley Square:
American Cellular
East Coast Communications
Intelliphone
Mountaineer Wireless
Republic Telephone & Telegraph
Springfield Cell-Solutions
Wally remembered Tony talking about RT&T and being able to make free calls to his friends who had the same company. He also noticed that the Republic Telephone & Telegraph shop was near the concourse. He decided to start there. It was a wise move. Thirty minutes later, Wally had a two-year introductory contract and a free cell phone. At last, he had joined the modern world. He would never miss another call from Tony.
Wally was preoccupied with the new phone. The urge to call someone possessed him. But who? Tony was the most likely candidate, but Wally couldn’t remember Tony’s number. He had written it down in his address book and left it, where he always kept it, beside the telephone. Before he realized, Wally had passed his favorite clothing store and was near the mall exit. He heard someone calling his name. He recognized the voice. It was Dorinda, from the office.
“Well, Wally Jackson, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re hanging ‘round here looking for someone to take home with you.” Dorinda’s perfect teeth highlighted her smile as she gave Wally a sassy look.
“I haven’t thought about picking someone up, but it might be a good place to find a guy, you know, just for a few hours.”
“Have you no shame, Wally? All you get, with a hook-up like that, is diseases and a broken heart. Find yourself a nice gentleman who’ll treat you right.”
Wally shook his head in agreement. “I know what you are talking about. Actually, I was just kidding about picking someone up. I don’t cruise around. I might see some nice-looking guys, and I might do some daydreaming. But, that’s as far as it goes. . . . Hey, Dorinda, let’s get a table at the coffee shop and watch some cute guys walk by. You can make sure I behave myself.”
“Well, I guess window shopping is kind of innocent. I’m a married woman, you know. And, happily at that. But, there don’t seem to be no harm in sipping coffee and watching those cute little college guys being prissy, hoping someone’s gonna get fixated by their sassy little butts a-swinging. Oh, Lordy gracious! It’s getting hot in here.”
“Another hot flash, Dorinda?” giggled Wally.
“Oh, sakes a-mercy! I may be getting close to the prime years of my life, but I ain’t nowhere near hot flashes. Or maybe I am. Do you reckon?”
“Prime years? Would you mean golden years?”
“Wally Jackson, how would you like for me to hurt you with this big pocketbook of mine?” snickered Dorinda. She pretended to be insulted, but she loved every minute of the exchange. “It would leave a mighty purse print wherever it hits. I could make you double over and sing soprano, don’t you know?”
At this point, Wally and Dorinda were directly in front of the alcove where the coffee shop was located. Between the recessed area of the shop and the main hall, there were tropical plants in earthenware pots. The plants formed a dividing wall, of sorts. Café tables were located on both sides. Wally and Dorinda decided to take a table behind the plants. It seemed more private. They could see all the passers-by walking in front of the coffee shop, but no one was likely to notice them unless that person came to a stop and stared.
Wally ordered Colombian coffee, black and robust. Dorinda selected a milder, flavored coffee with lots of cream. They also ordered a small plate of sugar cookies to share. They had taken only a few sips of coffee, and a bite of a sugar cookie, when Dorinda, who was watching the people in the mall corridor, nearly spewed coffee on Wally’s jacket. She had seen Tony.
“Wally, don’t look now, but there’s Tony with, uh . . . Oh, darn, I can’t remember his name. He’s from an Italian family.”
Of course, Wally looked where Dorinda had told him not to. His jaw dropped. He rubbed his eyes.
Dorinda whispered in surprise, “I told you not to look. Turn around now, before he sees you. I’ll tell you what’s going on.”
Wally turned away from the scene.
Dorinda continued, “Right now, they’re face to face, talking . . .Oh, I remember the Italian fellow’s name. It’s Gianni . . .Gianni Pomodoro. Ain’t he handsome? Lord sakes, he could melt my heart like butter in a frying pan. Anyway, his family owns warehouses, all over the southeast, and a fleet of trucks. Nobody knows what they store or what they haul. They’re rolling in money, I tell you.” Dorinda’s mouth flew open. She gasped. “My Lord, what people won’t do in public.”
Wally turned to see Tony and Gianni standing between two vending machines, out of the line of people walking by. They were embracing. Wally was flabbergasted as the drama unfolded, a bit more, and Tony’s lips met Gianni’s in a lingering kiss. Damn, he thought. Just like what he did to me on April 12. The scene climaxed with Gianni fishing a wad of bills from somewhere inside his suit jacket. Tony brushed his hand across the front of Gianni’s pants. Gianni handed Tony the money, then kissed him lightly on the cheek and left the mall.
As soon as Gianni was out of sight, Tony ambled over to the coffee shop. When he saw Wally and Dorinda, he greeted them politely. Dorinda, seeing this as a chance to give Wally and Tony time to talk, moved her chair back from the table. “I’ve really got to be on my way. My sister and I are going to some yard sales. That’s why I took a day off from work” Motioning to Tony, she said, “Tony, why don’t you sit here and visit with Wally.” Dorinda left.
After Tony sat down, he looked at Wally. “How did she know my name? I don’t remember ever meeting her.”
Wally responded, “Oh, but I introduced the two of you at a concert last summer. That was the last time you and I went out together. She has a good memory for people and faces. I’m terrible at that.”
“Me, too,” said Tony. He didn’t order coffee. He opted for a soda. “Wally, have you forgot about the tires for my car? We were supposed to meet, this morning, at Tilley’s Discount Tires on Harper Drive.”
Defending himself, Wally said, “You never told me what time. I didn’t hear from you this morning. I wasn’t about to stay home all day or go down to Tilley’s and wait for hours.”
“Well,” said Tony. “I was detained by important business. I tried to call. You didn’t answer.”
Wally knew, all too well, what kind of business this was. He looked at a plastic knife and fork Dorinda had used to divide a large sugar cookie. He thought, just for one minute, I’d wish for this fork to be a pitchfork. I’d fix that lying so-and-so. I do believe I am in love with a gigolo. Is there anything Tony won’t do for money? Wally looked at Tony, “You won’t have trouble reaching me next time. I’ve got a cell phone!”
Chapter 11
Tony’s car was parked two rows over from Wally’s. They were able to leave the mall parking lot at the same time. As Wally followed Tony to Aaron Tilley’s Discount Tire Center on Harper Drive, he kept thinking, I wonder how much this will cost me.
When they reached Tilley’s, they parked in front of the building. Wally got out of his car. He walked over to Tony who was rolling down his window. Tony said, “You go inside and tell them that you’re going to get me some new tires. Tell them you are my uncle and you’re going to pay for the tires with your credit card. You have enough credit on the card, don’t you?”
In reply to Tony, Wally popped a question he had been wanting to ask for several weeks. “Are you ashamed of me, Tony? It seems like you don’t want people to see us together.”
Tony replied, “If we are together too much, someone in this town is going to tell my mom that you are buying me things to win me over to your side.”
“My side?” snapped Wally. “You make it sound like being gay is some weird, off-the-wall political party, or a religious cult. Being gay is not a
side
to be on. It is not a disease. It is not a mental condition. It is simply the way some people think and feel and act. As for being your uncle . . . If your mother gets wind of that, I hope you have one heck of a time explaining to her just exactly which side of the family I come from. Your dad doesn’t have any brothers or sisters. And your mom? She has one sister who never married. So, what is it? How did I get to be your uncle? Your mom is gonna latch onto that story like a crow on road kill.”
Tony didn’t answer. He wasn’t accustomed to Wally talking back. He figured he must have pushed the wrong button.
Wally walked to the entrance of the tire showroom and went inside. He was greeted by a man in his forties, a pleasant looking gentleman--clean-shaven, short blond hair, captivating blue eyes. “May I help you, sir?” the man said.
“Yes,” replied Wally. “My nephew needs some tires for his car. It’s the green Mustang out front.” The words had hardly crossed Wally’s lips before he realized he had fallen into one of Tony’s lies, without even trying.
The tire salesman smiled and pointed to some tires in the display window. “We have these Navigator brand tires over here. They are all-season, steel-belted radials, and they happen to be on sale. Let’s see. I can let you have them for $95 apiece. That includes balancing, mounting, and disposal of the old tires.”
“That will be fine,” said Wally. “I will need to put them on my credit card. Is that OK?”
“Certainly,” responded the salesman. “We accept MasterCard, Visa, and Discover. Tell your nephew to pull around to the garage entrance at the end of the building. Someone will be waiting, there, to drive the car into the mounting bay. Let me swipe your credit card so I can process the sale while they are putting the tires on the car.”
Wally went outside to tell Tony where to move the car. Tony rolled down his window and remarked, “I saw the tires that guy took out of the window. That’s a budget brand. I was hoping for a major brand, you know, to make a statement.”
“Listen, Tony. I use the same brand myself. Can’t you just accept them as a going-away gift and quit whining around like a two-year-old child?”
Tony retorted, “I was going to pay you back.”
Wally snapped, “You’ll do well to pay back the seven hundred for the down payment on the car. Accept the tires as a gift. Now, drive around to the end of the building.”
Once in the mounting bay, Tony did not go to the waiting area as the signs indicated. He remained with the car.
The tire technician, a well-built young man around nineteen, didn’t ask Tony to leave the bay. He could sense Tony staring at him. He looked at Tony. He noticed the bulge in Tony’s jeans. He saw that Tony kept adjusting himself, like there was some kind of critter about to break loose, and Tony had to keep it properly confined. He figured Tony was being entertained. No doubt, Tony would be a satisfied customer.
Tony struck up the conversation, “Do you live around Brockton?”
The young technician responded that he did. He was a college student. He had an efficiency apartment just a few blocks away. The technician added, “Would you like to come see it?”
“Yes,” said Tony. “I would like that, and whatever else you want to show me.”
The young man ran his tongue along the edge of his lips to moisten them. He made eye contact with Tony. The message was delivered. Then he said, “OK. Stop by around seven. It’s 417 Neville Terrace, Apartment 3-G.” The technician smiled. Tingles went up his back as he anticipated becoming acquainted with Tony’s critter. No doubt, he would get to pet it. Perhaps, more.
“Absolutely,” said Tony. “I am sure I don’t have any other commitments. If I do, I will be there anyway. See you at seven.”
Tony left the bay and walked toward the waiting area. He could see Wally looking through the observation window. He remembered the promise. He was supposed to spend the night with Wally. They were going to do the ritual with the bath and the beach towel, like they had discussed on the jail visit. Tony pondered about how sensual that would be. Wally is very good with his hands. I can almost feel them now.
Tony took a deep breath. Wally will have to wait.
I
have an appointment for an evening with a hot young stud. He latched on to something he remembered from a lecture. When opportunities present themselves, people have to rise to the occasion and grab onto what is rightfully theirs. That’s it. I am going to do some rising and grabbing this evening. Oh, man! I bet Wally would do the same thing if he had the chance, wouldn’t he? . . No, he really wouldn’t. He would be there to wrap me in the beach towel and pat me dry as he promised . . . Oh, Wally, I hope you understand. I hope you forgive me.
Wally and Tony stood in the waiting room until the technician finished. Wally said playfully, “Remember, you are supposed to stay over at my place tonight. It’s going to be a special celebration, just for you.
“Yes, I can’t wait. Hmm!” Tony replied.
Wally admonished Tony, “Don’t forget me like you did last night.”
“Sure thing. I will be there. By the way, thank you so much for the tires.”
The technician walked into the waiting room. “All done,” he said. “Which one of you gets the keys.”
Tony stretched out his hand to receive the keys. He moistened his lips. The technician did the same. They both smiled.
Wally drove off with a smile on his face, hamming it up with his own version of a song he knew,
I’m gonna wash that jail right off of my man.
**********