Unfinished Business: A Short Story
"Mr. Roberts you have a phone call on line two."
Although I had been expecting and dreading that call for half my adult life, I still wasn't ready for it when it came. When I picked up the phone the person said "Jackson Roberts, my name is Bryce Andrews, I'm the Chaplain at Red Rock Retirement Home in Kingfisher, Oklahoma. I'm calling to inform you of the passing of your aunt, Lily Bosch Doubletree."
Mr. Andrews continued to speak, but I can't tell you anything else he said. In fact, I think he was still saying something when I hung up the phone.
I remember taking a couple of deep breaths, and then zombie walking into my partner, Dale Feather's office. Dale and I had been partners in real estate development for nearly 20 years. Dale was a rock and had seen me through a string of bad relationships, the death of my parents, and a near-fatal car wreck. Dale, his wife Mary, and sons Kyle and Tyler were now the only semblance of family I had left.
Dale closed his office door and then held me while I cried on his shoulder. For a guy that was as straight as an arrow, Dale was the least homophobic person I knew, and he never was shy when I needed to be held and comforted.
It was not a surprise that Aunt Lily had died. In fact, the surprise was that she had outlived two husbands, beat cancer three times, and lived to 88. Even more amazing was that as her body failed her, her mind was still sharp as a tack. She still did the New York Times crossword puzzle, although it did annoy her that she had to switch from an ink pen to a pencil. She also kept up on politics: local, state, and national, and would still fire off scathing letters to the `Dim-witted assholes running the country into the ground.'
After I regained control of my emotions, Dale asked if I wanted him to go with me to Aunt Lily's funeral in Kingfisher. I shook my head and said, "No, I need to close the book on that part of my life, and I need to do it alone."
So, the next day, Dale and Kyle took me to O'Hare to catch a flight to Oklahoma City. I don't know why I gave Dale and Kyle a hug before passing through the security check point. It was like I was a soldier going off to war and not knowing whether I would return the same man, or even at all.
Once in the air, it struck me that this was probably the last time I would ever go back to Kingfisher. It wasn't that I had bad memories of growing up there. The truth was I had a great life there until I came out as gay in my freshman year of college. After that, things changed. Most of my high school friends shunned me. The local chapter of the Assholes and Bigots Society' would harass me if I ventured downtown. However, the worst was Sunday Worship at the Kingfisher Baptist Church. The Culture Wars were slow in getting to Kingfisher, but when they did, it was in the person of a Bible thumping, homo-hating, fundamentalist named Rev. Billy Abernathy. Rev. Billy saw it as his mission to purge Kingfisher of all spiritual abominations, which in his world were pre-marital sex, homosexuals, marijuana, and anything that smacked of Socialism. Twenty years earlier, the list of abominations would have included divorce, alcohol, gambling, and dancing, but since those vices were now enjoyed by the big givers in his congregation, they had moved from spiritual felonies' to less than parking tickets in Rev. Billy's Book of Sins.
Even if I no longer felt any connection to Kingfisher, I went back regularly to visit my aunt. When she was no longer able to travel to visit me. I made it a point to get down to see her every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, and her birthday. However, I never went downtown, or out to eat, or attended any community celebrations or reunions when was in Kingfisher. I slipped in and out of town like The Shadow. Unfortunately, this time I would not be able to avoid coming face to face with my past.
When my aunt moved to a retirement center, we rented her home, so I stayed in a hotel when I visited. There were several reasons I chose to get a hotel in OKC rather than Kingfisher. The most obvious reason was it was easier to avoid the locals. Also, the Renaissance Waterford was close to Remington Park Racetrack and Casino. I often went there in the evenings after visiting my aunt. The thing about casinos is you can be around people without having to interact with them in any meaningful way other than saying an occasional `good luck'. The other big reason I like the Renaissance Waterford was its 24-hour fitness center which included a whirlpool and sauna.
After landing in OKC, renting a car, and checking into the hotel, I really wanted nothing more than to grab some food, hit the shower, and crawl into bed. I decided to grab supper at one of my favorite places to eat in OKC, The Bricktown Brewery. The Bricktown Brewery was the first craft brewery to open in the Sooner State after changes were made to the state's outdated liquor laws in the 1990s.
I knew exactly what I wanted without looking at the menu: chicken-fried steak, country gravy, mashed potatoes, and fried okra. While I didn't intend to ever live in Oklahoma again, I would miss the chicken-fried steaks, fried okra, and pecan pie. If there is one thing Okies do well, it's make high blood pressure and coronary disease taste good.
Since I was eating alone, I decided to sit at the bar and watch the football game. Oklahoma State was playing some sacrificial lamb from the Southland Conference, so there were a lot of Cowboy fans in the bar. A group of three boys on the far end of the bar caught my eye, and I noticed I caught the eye of one of them as well. So, I decided to play a hunch and gave him a smile and a wink when nobody else was looking. Damn if he didn't get all flustered. It was really quite cute.
I decided to go back to watching the game and eating. It would take someone with bigger balls than me to try to pick up a guy in the middle of a decidedly hetero-redneck crowd. That was a good way to become the guest of honor at an ass-kicking party. Besides, the boy was drinking soda, a sure sign he wasn't 21, or maybe even 18. Anyway, I was tired. So, I headed back to the Waterford, where it was a quick wank before going to sleep.
The next morning, I had a meeting with the funeral director. Shelby Nutter was the senior in `Nutter and Robinson Funeral Home.' I always wondered which came first, the sad eyes and dower continence or the decision to become a mortician. Frankly, I think sometime around the age of 12 or 13 a kid looking up while brushing his teeth, sees himself in the mirror and says, "Fuck, I've got a grave-digger face; I guess I'm going to be a mortician."
Anyway, Nutter informed me that Aunt Lily had asked him to meet with her two weeks previous and said, "Well, Shelby the jig is up. It's time to plan my farewell party." She picked out her casket, gave him a sketch of what she wanted for a headstone, handed him her obituary with a blank for the date of her death, and then wrote a check to cover the cost. She said that Rev. Thomas at the Methodist church had the funeral service she wanted. That was my Aunt Lily, never leave anything important to chance or your hapless relations.
My next stop was Wilber Cory, Attorney at Law. Wilber had retired years ago, and Aunt Lily was his last client. When I knocked on his door, his daughter answered, and said, "Jackson Roberts, it's good to see you, although I wish it were under happier circumstances."
"It is good to see you as well, Mrs. Tredwell." Shawna Tredwell had been my fifth-grade English teacher.
"Please call me Shawna, we're both adults now. Also, it's no longer Tredwell, it's Cory. I dumped that good-for-nothing husband the minute the last of my children graduated college. Mike, Rita, and Jerry were the only good things to ever come from that man."
"So, Shawna, is your father home?"
"Yes, he's in his study. Let me show you the way. He's been expecting you."
Wilber Cory's study was a combination law library, personal archive, and man-cave.
"Ah, Mr. Roberts. I'd get up to shake your hand, but as you can see, I've traded in my shoes for wheels."
"It's good to see you," I replied. "You and your daughter are two of the people I'm glad to see on this visit to Kingfisher."
"I suppose this will be your last trip to Kingfisher," Wilber said.
"Yes, most likely. Years ago, I packed up the good memories of growing up here and took them with me. So, after we lay Aunt Lily to rest, I'll have my own private ceremony to bury the bad memories. I'm tired of carrying them around."
Wilber nodded, and after a moment of silence said, "Well, let's get this over with. Before your aunt died, she wrote checks to all the charities she intended to leave money to, so what's left, is all yours. Your Aunt is leaving you her farm, which consists of 800 acres of tillable land, 300 acres of grassland, and all the mineral rights. There are three producing oil wells on the property. The land is currently leased, and the farmer has a right to the current crop; however, after the harvest, you can extend his lease, lease to a new tenant, or sell. Lily also left you her house here in Kingfisher, all of her furniture and personal possessions, which are in storage, and the contents of her safety deposit box. Lastly, the current balance of her bank accounts is $15,304.37, and the value of her stock portfolio as of last Thursday was $106,047."
I asked, "Are there any debts I need to settle."
"No, Lily's accountant said all bills are paid and all accounts are current. He will hold onto $5,000 in the event there is some unknown expense that is yet to be paid. After six months, any balance remaining will be returned to the estate. Do you have any questions about the inheritance?"
"No, Aunt Lily was very open with me about her finances and will. Everything seems in line with what she told me. If you would, please find a charity that would be interested in her possessions that are in storage and donate them to that charity if they'll take all of them and pick them up."
"I'll do that. Then there's one last thing before we take care of the paperwork." Wilber opened his desk drawer, pulled out a sealed envelope, and handed it to me. On the outside of the envelope was my name written in Aunt Lily's beautiful cursive script. Wilber said, "She wanted me to make sure you got this."
II told Wilber I would read it later when I was alone.
I won't tell you what Aunt Lily said in her letter. It's too personal, but I will tell you I both laughed and cried as I read it and reread it.
After saying goodbye to Wilber and Shawna, my next stop was the Kingfisher State Bank. I was shown to the bank's vice president who gave me a check for the balance of Aunt Lily's accounts and then took me to open her safety deposit box. Lily's second husband George made his money... well, we didn't really know how he made his money; however, we were pretty sure he wasn't a criminal, at least not the kind of criminal that got sent to prison.
Anyway, the safety deposit box had some very impressive-looking jewelry that I never remember seeing Aunt Lily wear. There were also 5 one-ounce ingots of gold and a box of old coins. Also, there was a key to a safety deposit box in Oklahoma City and a key to 222 1/2 North Main Street in Kingfisher.
I decided it would be stupid to take the gold and jewelry, so I took the two keys and locked the rest back in the safety deposit box. While I was curious about the two keys, especially the one to 222 1/2 North Main, I needed to meet with the minister to finalize the funeral service.
As Aunt Lily's only living relative, I would be sitting at the front of the church by myself with everyone staring holes in the back of my head. Rev. Thomas was new, and I had never met him. By new, I mean brand new. Kingfisher was his first church after finishing seminary. He was a nice enough guy, and we went over the service. Aunt Lily had been very thorough and there was not much we needed to add.
Whether the internment was a private family ceremony or a cremation, it was a tradition for the family to stand at the front of the church after the service to accept condolences. Aunt Lily had arranged for cremation and left specific instructions for how she wanted her ashes dealt with. So, I would be standing at the front of the church awkwardly waiting to see if anyone would come forward to acknowledge me. I felt I needed to clue Rev. Thomas into this situation.
I explained that I was gay and that many of Lily's friends would not be comfortable with me. Thomas smiled and said, "I'll be standing beside you." I can't express how meaningful that simple statement was at that moment.
Because of activities at the church, including a wedding, plus the high school's homecoming football game activities, the funeral service couldn't be scheduled for a week, which wasn't a problem, it just meant that I either had to make a quick trip home and back, or stay in Oklahoma City. I decided to stay.
That evening, I needed some distraction, so I went to Remington Park to bet on the horses. I was standing in line to place a bet when I looked over at the next line and saw the kid from the previous evening at Brockton Brewery. He recognized me and waved. He finished placing his bets and waited for me.
"So, are you stalking me?" I asked.
He laughed and said, "I was going to ask you the same question."
I introduced myself and he did as well, his name was Jason Johnson, and I said, "I'm going to show you what a trivia nerd I am. Johnson is the most common surname in Oklahoma. Nationally it's Smith, but in Oklahoma Smith doesn't even make the top 100."
Jason laughed and asked, "How the hell would you even know something that obscure?"
"I took a probability and statistics class in college. The instructor gave us data on U.S. surnames for our final project. I blame that class for my gambling interest."
"Right... right.... So, you're just here doing academic research," Jason said with the cutest smile.
I noticed that his shirt had `Chisholm Crossing Stables' embroidered on it, and I asked whether he had a horse in the race. He said his boss did. He worked at Chisholm Crossing as a stable hand and riding instructor.
We ended up sitting together and had a good time talking about horses. Growing up, I liked to ride and that was one thing I missed living in the city. I had even looked into joining a riding club, but the cost was ridiculous.
Jason said his dream job would be a jockey; however, genetics had stolen that dream from him. Jason easily stood six-one, maybe six-two, and was a muscular guy who was obviously used to physical work.
When we went to place more wagers, Jason gave me a couple of tips about which horses to bet on. To thank him I asked if he wanted a beer, and he said, "I'd love one, but I'm not twenty-one." Then before I could even think about what it might sound like, I said, "Ah, the sweet spot. Old enough to gamble, but too young to drink." I immediately apologized for the remark. Jason laughed and said forget it; however, from that point on, our conversation became increasingly peppered with sexual innuendos.
Around seven, I was getting hungry, so I invited Jason to join me for dinner. I called Silks and asked if they had a table for two, and they did. Silks is on the Clubhouse level of Remington Park, and you can eat while continuing to watch the action. When we walked in, I could hear Jason quietly say "Fuck" and I couldn't help but smile.
When we sat down and started to look at the menu, I saw the look on Jason's face and knew he was searching for the cheapest meal on the menu. So, I reached across the table took the menu from him, and asked, "Do you mind if I order for you?"
"That would be great," he said with a note of relief.
"Being in Oklahoma, I assume you are fine with beef." Jason nodded. Then I asked, "How about seafood?"
"I love seafood."
"Okay, strawberries or chocolate?"
Jason smiled and said, "Chocolate."
"How did I know?"
When the waiter returned, I said, "We'll both start with the Maryland Lump Crab Cakes, then we'll both have the Ribeye medium rare and substitute the asparagus for the vegetable medley. Then for dessert the Chocolate Chocolate Chocolate Cake." I looked at Jason and asked if there was anything he wanted to change and he shook his head.
When the waiter went to place our order, Jason smiled and asked, "Is this how a sugar daddy treats his baby?"
The kid was bold, I'll give you that, but I responded, "I don't know. I've never had a sugar daddy."
The supper was great, both the food and the conversation. We were eating when the horses Jason came to watch ran. They were in maiden races and were untested. As it turned out they both won. I asked Jason how he did, and he said, "I won a little. I bet win, place, or show, so the payout wasn't that big. How did you do?"
I smiled and said, "I was feeling lucky, so I bet them both to win."
"Damn, you are lucky tonight."
"I hope so," I said, and Jason smiled.
After the horses were finished, I asked Jason if he wanted to go to the casino. When we walked into the casino Jason's eyes got big when I handed him five one-hundred-dollar bills and said, "Thanks for a great evening and the tip on the horses. I plan to head back to my hotel in an hour."
I won some and lost some but wasn't really feeling it. So, I was ready to go when the hour was up. When I got to the entrance we came in, Jason was standing there. I walked up and said, "Just to be clear, I had a great time with you tonight and you don't owe me anything."
"I know," Jason said, "I also had a great time. And, just to be clear, I hope it's not over yet."
We both smiled and then headed to the Waterford.
When we got up to my suite, I kissed Jason, then said, "I've been wanting to do that all evening."
Jason smiled and said, "I've been wanting you to kiss me alll evening."
"Shit!"
"What's wrong," Jason asked with concern.
"Ever since the other night, I've been trying to figure out who you remind me of, and it just hit me. You look like Nicholas Galitzine in "Handsome Devil," which caused Jason to blush. Then I said, "Oh that's so cute," and he became even more self-conscious.
"Stop, please," Jason pleaded.
"Come on, you can't tell me I'm the first to notice the resemblance."
"No, but most of the guys I work with aren't into watching movies about gay Irish rugby players."
"Well now you've got me curious about what's underneath this shirt," I said and untucked his polo and pulled it up and off. All I remember saying was "Oh fuck," before I removed the rest of his clothes like a kid unwrapping his birthday presents.
When Jason was completely naked, I stepped back to admire his body. Broad shoulders, well-formed pecs, strong arms, narrow waist, firm ass, and the legs of a cyclist - I knew because I'm also a cyclist. Then there was that cock. It was the platonic ideal of a cock. It was cut, well-shaped, and hung over his balls like it was positioned by an artist.
"Okay daddy, my turn," Jason said, and then began removing my clothes.
I guess it's time to tell you what I look like. While there isn't any particular Hollywood actor I could point to and say that's me, I have that rugged masculine look that is characteristic of actors like Harrison Ford or Sean Connery. I have a thick head of wavy black hair that is greying in the temples. My pride is my eyes. They're icy blue and very expressive. I stand 5'10 and keep my body in shape with cycling and a regular gym routine. While my days are increasingly spent in the office, when our work crew needs additional help, I can still put on my work clothes and put in a full day of construction. My pecs are covered in a moderate coat of fur, and I have a nice ass for a guy of 45. As for my cock, it's cut and well above average. If you don't believe me, just ask any of the guys I've railed when I'm in a mood to be wild.
From the way he looked at me, and ran his fingers over my chest, I knew Jason liked what he saw. I asked Jason what he wanted, and his answer was, "To rock your world." It was at that moment I knew that as innocent as he looked this wasn't his first rodeo.
To this day, I can't describe that first night beyond saying it was silk, steel, and a thousand megawatts of sexual energy, I fucked Jason, and he fucked me. My body count was well over 100, but no one had ever rocked me like Jason did that night. When we finally fell asleep my cock was incapable of another erection. I was completely fucked out.
The next morning, I awoke holding Jason in my arms. He felt like everything in my life that had been missing and more. If Jason were a drug, I would be hooked.
We got up and showered together. Then we had breakfast before he went off to work. Just before he left, I asked him if he wanted to grab supper and maybe go back to Remington Park. His response was "Hell yes!" The rest of the week we spent the evenings and nights gambling, eating, drinking, and fucking; although, by Friday, we were done spending time at the casino. Something else we didn't do was waste time talking about our pasts or futures. All that mattered was the present.
I suppose it was odd that Jason spent three nights with me and never called anyone to tell them what he was doing and where he was, but `what the hell,' I wasn't his parent.
The sex was epic. Jason may have been only 19, but he was mature beyond his years. So many young guys are one-trick ponies; it's bang, bang, and done every time. However, Jason seemed to innately sense my mood and delivered exactly what I wanted or needed, and his enthusiasm sparked my creativity and passion. I hadn't made love to anyone in years like I did with Jason, not since my last `perfect man' broke my heart three years before.
I suppose some of you might think it was strange that neither of us shared much of anything personal. Beyond his love of horses, that he was gay, and couldn't get enough of fucking or being fucked, I hadn't a clue about Jason, and the same was true for him of me. He knew that I lived in Chicago, worked in housing rehab, and was in Oklahoma to take care of some family business. Two days before Aunt Lily's funeral, Jason told me he needed to go home. I certainly understood. After all, this wasn't anything big or long-term. I was just hooking up, scratching an itch or two, and having a good time. I thanked Jason for an incredible time and told him I was going back to Chicago as soon as my business was finished.
After saying goodbye to Jason, I decided to go check out the other safety deposit box. There hadn't been any indication of what was in the box, but if it was anything like the previous box, I needed to get something strong and lockable. So, I went to Cabela's and bought a Pelican Equipment Box. The kind that a lot of outdoor photographers use when on assignment.
The safety deposit box was in the Oklahoma City branch of the Oklahoma Farmers and Ranchers State Bank. I did a bit of research on the bank and found that OFSB was not only servicing the agricultural sector but was also a major lender to energy companies. Also, as oil and gas lending declined, it ventured into cannabis banking. This was exactly the kind of bank I would have expected George Doubletree, Aunt Lily's second husband, to use. When I arrived at the bank and identified myself, I was taken to a private conference room to wait. That was not what I had expected. While I waited two officials from the bank came in at different points and asked to see my identification. I must admit I was getting nervous. Finally, an attractive woman came in and identified herself as April Weston, the branch manager.
"I'm sorry for all of the checking and double-checking of who you are. The problem is that George Doubletree was a member of the Osage Tribe and also owned several significant oil and gas leases in Osage County."
I looked at her and said, "I vaguely remember George was a member of the Osage Tribe, but I don't understand what that has to do with my Aunt Lily."
"Well," George Doubletree died without a will. As his wife, your aunt was entitled to the proceeds of his investments: however, now that she has passed, his family is asserting a right to his estate."
"I see. So, what now?"
"We need you to return tomorrow, to meet with representatives of the Osage Nation and George Doubletree's family. They will have legal representation, and you might want to consider that as well."
"Shit" or "Fuck" was what I remember saying to myself. So, after setting up a meeting, I left and headed to my hotel. It was only 4:30 when I got back to the Waterford and decided to go to the fitness center to burn off some frustration. The workout managed to put me into a better frame of mind, but it also made me horny as fuck. So, I pulled out my phone to check what was available on rentmen.com in OKC. Hey, don't judge me; desperately horny times call for desperate measures.
Anyway, I found "Sooner Boy" and checked to see if he was available for the evening, and as luck would have it, he was. So, I made arrangements to meet him for dinner in the hotel bar. He looked just like his photos, so it was easy to connect. I told him my name and he introduced himself as Alex Jimenez. He was from Spain and was a graduate student in meteorology at the University of Oklahoma. For those unfamiliar with OU, it has the largest school of meteorology in the U.S. and is located in the same facility as the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's severe storm forecasting center.
Alex was model handsome, and I even asked him why he wasn't modeling. He said, "I did model for a while but it's too time-consuming and was interfering with my true passion: meteorology. Also, I like having sex with men."
We had a very pleasant dinner together. Alex was a great conversationalist, and his smile was amazing. He told me about his home just outside of Madrid. His father was a Judge and his mother worked for the government planning office. He said his interest in meteorology was sparked by listening to his mother talking about how climate change was affecting the weather and her work as a government planner. He was also very interested to hear how my partner and I were redeveloping homes differently now than we did at the start of our business to make them more durable and adaptable to climate change.
After dessert, we went up to my suite. I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, handed one to Alex, and then sat down on the leather couch to drink it. As we hydrated Alex put his arm on the couch behind me and then began massaging my shoulders. I soon was softly cooing, finally Alex said, "Let's take this somewhere that I can massage more than just your shoulders.
In the bedroom, Alex had me sit on the end of the bed while he slowly and fluidly undressed. With Alex, undressing was more than an act, it was a form of art. Damn, he was the Greco-Roman ideal of manhood: muscular, self-assured, and flawless. The only part of Alex that would not meet their ideal was his penis. For the Greeks, a large penis was associated with wild beasts, monsters, their enemies the Egyptians, and stupidity. A small flaccid penis was a sign of civilization, intelligence, and self-control. The Greek playwright Aristophanes described the perfect male in his play `The Clouds." He said the ideal man possessed, "a gleaming chest, bright skin, broad shoulders, tiny tongue, strong buttocks, and a little prick." For the Greeks, Alex was 7-inches beyond perfect.
After letting me admire him for several minutes, he pulled me up and undressed me. By undressing me I mean he didn't just remove my clothes, but he removed my shirt, my undershirt, unbuckled my belt, undid my pants and dropped them to the floor, and then my underwear, all without losing eye contact. It was like I was being hypnotized.
Next, he told me to lay face down on the bed and he began the most amazing massage I have ever had. I truly believe he could have stopped with the massage and I would have voluntarily paid him double, it was that good. However, he wasn't finished, he swallowed my cock and I knew I was in the presence of a true master. I still don't know why I didn't nut down his throat at that moment, but somehow, I maintained control.
I came several times that evening and on into the night. When I woke up at 6 the next morning, Alex was still in bed with me. He had stayed long beyond our agreed-upon arrangement, and I tried to give him additional compensation; however, he refused it and said, two hours was business, but the rest of the time was pleasure. I asked if he would be interested in another evening/night, but he said, "As much as I would love that, I'm flying to Miami. One of my professors has invited me and three other students to go with him to the National Hurricane Center for the next two months. August and September are going to be big this year. I know it sounds terrible to be excited about big storms, but meteorologists are crazy that way."
I gave him a kiss, and slipped him five one-hundred dollar bills. He tried to protest, but I said it was an investment in science. He laughed, and said, "I'll go with that."
I looked at my watch, it was 6:30 and my meeting with the Osage Tribe, George's family, and who knows who else wasn't until 4:00 that afternoon. I decided I'd better see what was in 222 1/2 North Main Street before the meeting. So, I quickly got dressed and headed for Kingfisher. On the way, I called Wilber Cory and he told me to meet him at the Kingfisher Cafe.
When I arrived at the cafe, Wilber wasn't there yet, so I found a seat at the back and ordered coffee. Several of the other diners looked at me like they should know me, but I was thankful they couldn't quite put their finger on who I was. Between the years and my starting my winter beard, I was incognito.
When Wilber and Shawna arrived and we had placed our orders, Wilbur said, "I contacted the County Attorney to have him send one of his assistants over with a clerk. We're going to open the door and then sit and watch while they open up whatever is there, inventory it, and take possession of it. I will be attending your meeting this afternoon and we will have a copy of the inventory to give to people at the meeting."
When we got to 222 1/2 North Main, an Asst. County Attorney, a clerk, and a sheriff's deputy were waiting. After introductions, I open the door to let them in. 222 1/2 was the street entrance to an office on the second floor, and fortunately for Wilber, there was a freight elevator at the alley entrance. While everything was very dusty, it was neat and orderly. I dusted off chairs for Wilber, Shawna, and myself and we sat down to watch.
It didn't take them long to go through the desk and file cabinets. All they found were personal correspondence and accounting books. Then the ACA, said "Well, it's time to deal with the elephant in the room," and he pointed to the old-fashioned bank safe. "Do either of you have the combination," the ACA asked. Wilber and I both shook our heads. "Damn, we're going to have to drill it."
Then I said, "Try 6, 17, 36." He did and it opened. I smiled and said, "Aunt Lily's birthday."
Unlike the rest of the office, the safe was a gold mine, literally and figuratively. "Damn," the deputy said, "between the weight of the safe and the weight of the gold, it's a wonder the thing didn't go crashing through the floor." The deputy called the sheriff and soon he and another deputy showed up to transport the gold to the bank until someone figured out what to do with it. In addition to the gold, there was a ruby necklace in the safe, and several boxes filled with oil leases, bank accounts no one knew about, and deeds to several properties including the building where this office was. There was also the address of an agent in Oklahoma City who was responsible for the administration of the George Doubletree Trust of which Aunt Lily was the last living director.
"This is going to be a mess," Wilber said. "My grandson may grow old trying to get this all straightened out." Wilber had turned his practice over to his grandson and a nephew.
I leaned over and whispered in Wilber's ear, and he smiled and said, "I think that will work."
At four o'clock, there was a large number of people standing outside the Oklahoma Farmers and Ranchers State Bank. In addition to myself, Wilber, and Shawna, there were representatives of the Osage Nation, the Doubletree family, The U.S. Bureau of Indian Affairs, the State of Oklahoma, and the Kingfisher County attorney and sheriff. There was also a Federal Magistrate there to preside over the meeting. The first item was to distribute copies of the inventory to every party of interest.
Next, the magistrate turned to me and asked what my interest in the matter was. I stood and said, "In accordance with what I believe is right, and what I believe my Aunt Lily would want, I relinquish any claim to the estate of George Doubletree, including the contents of the safety deposit box and his Kingfisher office, except for one item, the ruby necklace. It was a gift to Aunt Lily, and I have a photo of her wearing it."
The room went silent, and then the leaders of the Osage delegation and the Doubletree family nodded to each other. The Osage representative then said, "We agree that the ruby necklace was the property of your Aunt Lily and should be yours. I believe I speak for all the Osage when I say we honor your sense of justice."
I said, "It was an honor to meet you." Then Wilber, Shawna and I got the hell out of there. When we got to the parking lot, Wilber said, "I would have represented your interests whatever you decided, but I think you did the right thing in there."
"Thanks," I said.
At that point, all I wanted to do was get back to the Waterford, slip on my trunks, and go for a swim. There were too many families at the pool to swim, so I just found a relatively quiet part of the pool, soaked, and thought about how crazy this trip was turning out to be. The craziest part was I hadn't spent much time thinking about Aunt Lily, not the stuff that mattered--things like how she was a second mom or grandma to every kid in Kingfisher who needed one, or how she was always the first to volunteer when a community event needed workers, or how she would take cookies to the elderly and shut-ins, not just at Christmas but throughout the year.
Most important for me was that when I came out as gay during my freshman year at OU, she stood by me even when my parents didn't. Years later, my mother told me that Lily came storming into my dad's hardware store, locked the door, and turned the sign on the door to CLOSED. Then she proceeded to tell my dad, as mom put it, `how the cow ate the cabbage.' Aunt Lily was Dad's older sister and she had pretty much raised him after my grandmother passed away when he was ten. So, when Lily talked, he listened. A week later, my Dad and Mom came to visit me at college, and by the time they went home, I had my family back.
Aunt Lily also got Uncle John, Lily's first husband, to hire me to work on their farm when I was in Kingfisher on Summer break. I had always worked in my dad's hardware store, but once it became known that I was gay, the harassment from some of the local assholes was unbearable. So, I lived and worked on the farm. Those were some of the best Summers of my life.
Then when Dale called and asked if I wanted to move to Chicago and get into house flipping, Aunt Lily gave me a "grubstake", that was enough money to let me live in Chicago until the business got up and running. When I tried to pay her back, she said, "I don't need it right now, so just keep it in the bank."
As I thought about my aunt and growing up in Kingfisher I noticed several boys in the pool, well really young men, chicken fighting and it reminded me of my best friend Patrick May, Patty May. He hated it when we called him that. Pat and I were always partners when we would chicken fight with the other boys at the lake. Pat was the bottom, and I was up on his shoulders. Pat was an immovable beast in the water, and I was a scrapper with a good sense of balance. It was rare that I was ever knocked off Pat's shoulders. Pat and I were inseparable... until I came out, then it was like he just disappeared.
After an hour in the pool, I decided it was time to go up to my room, grab a shower, and then think about getting something to eat.
Before jumping into the shower, I checked my phone for messages. The first was from Alex, saying he had a good time, that I was hotter than his regular clients, and suggested that I could leave a review. I had to laugh, it seemed everyone, even escorts, were fishing for good reviews. Of course, I went to Rentmen.com and gave Alex five stars. I said, "This hot young stud will rock your world." It wasn't long before I got a thank you from Alex with three hearts, two eggplants, and a peach.
The next message was from Jason, asking if we could get together again before I went back to Chicago. I was planning to stay a couple of days after Aunt Lily's funeral, so I suggested we could spend some time then. However, I didn't mention anything about attending a funeral. Somehow sex and funerals didn't seem to fit in the same communication.
Of course, thinking about Alex and Jason had me hard and chlorine wasn't all I had to wash off in my shower. As for food, I was in the mood for BBQ and Googled a list of OKC's best BBQ and saw Jo-Bawb's Championship BBQ, a food truck run by one of the country's top competitive BBQ teams. I looked at my watch and decided if I hurried, I could make it there before they closed, I just hoped they hadn't already sold out because BBQ isn't something you can just whip up another batch of.
I got to Jo-Bawb's truck with 5 minutes to spare, walked up to the window and asked, "What do you have left?"
The woman taking orders looked around and said, "Mr. It's a little bit of this and a little bit of that."
"Great, I'll take a this and that sample plate."
She laughed and said, "One leftover special coming up."
I guarantee you I had never eaten such good leftovers in my life. There were a couple of ribs, some brisket, hot links, the best damn potato salad I'd ever had, and slaw. After getting my food, I stopped by a convenience store and picked up a couple of cans of RC Cola, found myself a little park, and made my taste buds very happy. After that, I went back to the hotel and crashed. The next day was Sunday, and I didn't get up until 10:30. Then I just hung around the hotel watching football and preparing myself for Aunt Lily's funeral.
Around two on Sunday afternoon, Dale called to see how I was doing. We talked for at least an hour about nothing and everything. I told him about finding George Doubletree's `lost estate' and that I turned it over to the Osage Tribe and Doubletree family. He said he was proud of me for walking away from what could have been a fortune. Dale said, "I would imagine the Osage representatives were surprised a white man wouldn't try to screw them out of what, by rights, was theirs."
"I don't know if they were surprised, but I could sense they were relieved. From what Wilber told me, since the Doubletree family is Osage, and this involves Osage interests, the will can now be decided in their court system rather than the Oklahoma State court system. He also said that I might be deposed about what I knew about George's and Aunt Lily's finances since they co-mingled some of their assets."
"I hope that won't be a problem," Dale said.
"I don't think so," Wilber and I have a good handle on what Aunt Lily had before she and George got married. It also helps that Aunt Lily reached an agreement with her first husband's heirs before she married George. You know, I'm all for marriage equity, but when you throw families, inheritance, and finances into the mix, I'll look pretty hard at the fine print before saying `I do'."
After getting off the phone, for a brief moment I thought about seeing what was available on Grindr, but that just seemed tacky the night before my aunt's funeral. I remember actually saying, "Come on Jackson, have a little class." So, I watched Sunday Night Football and then went to bed, alone.
In the morning, I went down to the restaurant and grabbed a light breakfast before getting dressed and headed to Kingfisher. I got to the Methodist Church early enough so that I wouldn't run into anyone, and Rev. Thomas was gracious and let me hang out in his office until it was time for the service.
I knew the church was full and I would be sitting in the front pew with half of Kingfisher staring holes into the back of my skull. I walked into the sanctuary with Rev. Thomas and made a point of not looking at the rest of the people in the pews.
As a young lady sang Blessed Assurance' it struck me that this was the end of our branch of the Roberts family in Kingfisher... Hell, I was all that was left of what Aunt Lily called Our People.' The original Kingfisher Roberts clan had staked their claim in the Land Run of 1889. At one time there was a Roberts engaged in almost every occupation in the county: farmer, rancher, oilman, shopkeeper, politician, prostitute, and town drunk. Theo Roberts was a State Senator, and of the last three professions I just mentioned, Aunt Lily said he was the most easily bought and least likely to attend Sunday morning worship. That was all history now. As soon as I sold Aunt Lily's property, there wouldn't be any of "Our People" on the Kingfisher property rolls for the first time in over 125 years.
The service was simple, and not very long. Rev. Thomas did a very nice job, and I appreciated that he kept the focus on Aunt Lily and didn't try to hijack it and turn it into some sort of revival tent meeting. Something Rev. Billy did that on more than one occasion, and not just funerals. He even gave an alter call one time at a wedding.
After the service, Rev. Thomas came down to stand beside me as I accepted people's condolences. We faced the front of the church so I wouldn't have to see how many people were leaving without talking to me. One person I did expect I would be seeing was Patrick May. Patrick had been calling me almost from the moment I got the news of my aunt's death. She didn't know about my falling out with Pat, so she didn't have any reason to refuse to rent him her farmland when she moved to town. After all, the May family had been her neighbors all of her married life.
When Patrick extended his hand, I lost it. However, not for the reason you're thinking. I grabbed his hand and pulled him close so I could whisper in his ear, "What the fuck. Did you arrange for him to be your bargaining chip!?" We both looked at the young man standing beside him, and Jason Johnson looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Patrick was still shaking my hand and now he was crushing it, and demanded, "How do you know my stepson!?" Now I was the deer in the headlights.
"Patrick looked me hard in the eyes and said, "If we weren't in a church, I'd beat the fucking shit out of you right now." Then he went running after Jason who had quickly left the church. I was afraid he was going to beat Jason, so I followed him out of the church, but Jason was gone and Patrick was just standing in the parking lot yelling, kicking, and sobbing. I decided it was time for me to get the hell out of Kingfisher and I ran to my car and was soon on my way out of town.
However, for some reason, I didn't head back to OKC. I headed toward Uncle John and Aunt Lily's farm. The first place I went was the old farmstead. The barns and outbuildings were like I remembered them, but it seemed empty without the old farmhouse. Soon after Aunt Lily moved to town, it was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. All that was left was the old stone foundation and a Spirea bush that was too stubborn to call it quits. I walked around for a bit remembering those Summers I lived and worked there while in college.
The next place I drove to was the old shale pit on some pasture land John and Lily owned closer to Kingfisher. For years, Kingfisher County road maintenance had been hauling shale out of there and the older parts of the pit were a spring-fed pond that was enjoyed on hot Summer days by Uncle John's Black Angus and me and my friends.
While I was reminiscing and skipping rocks, a pickup drove onto the property and stopped where it could block the driveway to the pit. Patrick got out of the pickup and started walking toward me. He was carrying a shotgun. When he got closer, he said, "Jack, let's talk."
"Frankly Pat, I'd feel a lot more comfortable talking if you weren't holding that shotgun."
"Hell Jack, I ain't gonna shoot you."
"Why not? You seemed pretty damn pissed earlier."
"I was caught off guard and overreacted. I married Tania, his mom two years ago. The two of them had it pretty rough, and after Brenda ran off, I needed someone. The kid has become like a son to me, and my boys, Buck and Milo, think the world of him. He's their little brother."
"Oh," I said still not sure of Pat's intentions.
"Plus Jack I'm still in love with you. There isn't a week that goes by that I don't think about you."
"What the fuck Pat!? Why are you telling me this now!? Why didn't you tell me that twenty years ago when it would have made a difference!?"
"Because I couldn't. I had to make a choice and it couldn't be you. Dad needed me on the farm. I was his only son and he needed me. His health was failing, and he couldn't do it alone. I just couldn't leave Kingfisher, but you could."
"If I'd known, I'd have stayed."
"I know you would have, but then what? Sneaking down here to drink beer, make out, and fuck. You'd have hated that, and you'd have ended up hating me."
"Okay, but why didn't you tell me why? You just cut me out of your life!"
"I had to; I needed you to hate me, because if there was even the tiniest of hope I couldn't move on, and I had to move on. I had to find a girl, have kids, carry on the family and the farm."
I had had enough, and I screamed, "That's bullshit!"
"Don't you think I know it's bullshit! But it's the bullshit that lets me do this. Without that bullshit, I would just lie down in one of my fields and wait to turn into dirt."
"So why, now? Why tell me all this now? And, and you still haven't told me why you have the gun."
By this time we were both so emotional, and tears were streaming down our faces. Pat was so choked up he couldn't even talk. Finally, he was able to say, "I came to beg you for two things. I need your aunt's farms, I can't make it without them. I won't have anything to pass on to my boys. It will have all been a fucking waste."
"Fine, I can give you the first chance to buy me out."
"I can't buy you out. I'm stretched too thin now. I need you to keep the land and rent it to me."
"What the fuck!? I know my aunt gave you a sweetheart deal on that lease. She didn't need the money and I figured she had her reasons. But that land is mine now and I don't feel like being generous."
"Please Jack, I'm begging you!"
"Beg away asshole. If you want that land, it's going to be over my dead body!" The minute I hear those words leave my mouth, I remembered the gun, and said, "Oh fuck!"
Pat looked at me, then he looked at the gun and suddenly started laughing. "What's so funny!?" I demanded.
He handed me the gun and then just sat down on the ground. It was the first good look I got at the gun and I was totally surprised, "Hey this is my gun!"
"Yep, you left it at my house the last time we went hunting."
I sat down on the ground as well. The last time we went hunting ... the last time we were friends ... well, the last time we were anything, was New Year's of my Freshman year of college. Pat's parents had gone to Dallas to see his aunt's family. Pat persuaded his father it would be better if he stayed home to take care of the livestock than ask one of the neighbors to do it. I swear the minute his parents pulled out of the drive and out of sight, I was pulling in.
I'd learned a few things at OU, not all of them academic, and I was anxious to teach them to Pat. For three days we drank beer, occasionally went hunting, and spent hours satisfying our carnal beasts. When I left, I told Pat to keep my shotgun because I was going to be back in two weeks to go hunting again.
However, two days before we were supposed to go hunting again, Pat called and said, "Don't come. My mother is sick." I later found out the real reason was Pat's father heard I was gay, or as he put it, "a fag." I'd made the mistake of going to a party and mentioning that I was into guys, and the wrong people overheard me. The only thing that spreads faster than a grassfire is gossip in a small town. Apparently, someone at the party had a cousin who lived in Kingfisher.
Aunt Lily later told me that Pat showed up in church on Sunday with a black eye and a split lip. He said he'd gotten into it with some boys from Hennessy, our rivals in the next county, but she thought he was covering.
I tried several times to contact Pat, but he kept avoiding me. When I was finally able to talk with him about what happened, he said, "He was drunk and confused. That he was straight, and he didn't want to be friends."
When I asked about all the things we'd done growing up, he said, "They were just a phase. Something to fill in until he found his sweetheart." Then just before Summer break I heard he and Brenda got married and she was pregnant.
I spent the Summers and Holidays for the next three years in Kingfisher, and never once did Pat even nod when I saw him. So, I finally had the chance and the balls to tell him how much that hurt, and all we could do was cry.
I cried more that afternoon than I had in my entire adult life, between Aunt Lily's funeral and the confrontation with Pat, I was emotionally drained and just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep until it was time to go back to Chicago.
When I finally managed to pull myself together, I said, "Two..."
"Huh?"
"You said you had two things you wanted from me. The farm is one. What's the other?"
"I want you to talk to Jason. He had no idea who you were when he met you, and I didn't send him. We were both totally surprised this morning... and I imagine you were too."
"Does he know about our history?"
"Sort of, when we discovered by accident that Jason was gay, I sat him down and told him about us and what I had to give up to stay in Kingfisher. What I didn't tell him was your name or that you were Lily's nephew. So, when he ran into you, it was a totally random meeting. Look, things have changed in Kingfisher, but not enough for Jason to be himself and happy. He knows he has to make his life somewhere else. His mother and I hate it, but that's the way it is."
"What about your boys?"
"Like I said, they love him like a brother and would be thrilled if he joined them in the farm operation and be the fun uncle for their kids, but they also want him to be happy."
The high temperatures for August in Kingfisher climb into the mid-90s, it was well on its way to getting there, and I was still in dress clothes. "Fuck it," I said, and I stripped off my clothes and ran into the shale pit. The water was cool and clear.
Soon Patrick was in the water with me. For a minute it was like we were kids skinny dipping in Uncle John's private fishing pond. Pat wasn't gym fit, but man was he strong. The bear-lovers in Chicago would go ape-shit crazy for his farmer-bod. Despite the bad blood between us, I couldn't help getting turned on wrestling with him, and I noticed the same was true for him.
I finally called time out and said, "Hey buddy, let's not get anything started you're not going to finish." Pat hung his head, and I said, "Sorry, that was a cheap shot."
"Did you just call me buddy?"
"Force of habit," I said trying not to show any weakening, and I changed the conversation. "You've done a good job of maintaining this pond." For those who don't know, farm ponds can get pretty sketchy, and not the sort of place anyone wants to swim, if not properly maintained.
"Yeah, one of the conditions your aunt insisted on when I started farming their land was that this pond be kept up the way your Uncle John had done. When I'd visit her, she'd often ask me to bring her out here. I think it reminded her of John."
"I didn't know you visited my aunt."
"Yep, every other Thursday I'd stop in for an hour. I'll tell her what was happening on the farm, and she'd fill me in about you..."
"Wait! Aunt Lily told you about me?"
"Sure, she was so proud of you and... You don't know do you?"
"Know what?"
"Your Aunt knew all about us. That Summer, our sophomore year in high school, your parents went to that hardware convention in St. Louis and you stayed with her and your uncle. She was going to get some feed for her goat and she saw us naked and messing around in the barn. She didn't tell me what she saw exactly, but you know what we did naked in the barn."
Even in my mid-forties I couldn't help but be embarrassed imagining what she might have witnessed.
"Anyway, during one of my visits she just told me what she saw, and if you think you're embarrassed you should have seen my..."
I started laughing imagining the picture. Finally, I got under control and said, "Sorry, that is just too funny."
"Then she asked what happened between us. Why we weren't friends anymore? Once I started, I couldn't stop talking. I told her about how my dad beat the shit out of me when he heard you were gay and figured out what we'd been doing. It turns out I wasn't very good at hiding the evidence and once he heard you were gay, it didn't take much for him to put it together. He then told me I would not be a fag and if he ever caught me with a fag, he'd kill both of us. So, I became `straight'."
"So, you and Brenda..."
"No better proof you're a red-blooded American straight man than knocking up the ex-Prom Queen."
"So, did you ever...."
"Nope, being unfaithful was that bitch's talent. I was the good husband, the good father, the good son, and lived the good lie."
"I don't think it was all a lie," I said, "from what I can tell, you were a good father."
"Yeah, I guess that part's true."
"So why did you marry Tania? You were free. Your parents were gone, Brenda was gone, you could have been gay."
"I guess I was too used to lying that I couldn't live up to the truth. Then Tania came along and needed help getting out of a bad situation, and I needed a housekeeper and cook. Plus, I was lonely."
"So, it's none of my business, but do you and Tania have sex? Hell, does she even know the truth?"
"Yes, she knows about me. I sat her down before we got married and told her the truth. Like I said, she and Jason were in a bad way and she wasn't in a position to be picky. We each have our own rooms, but yes, on occasion we do have sex. You know, when you need human contact, when you need to hold a warm body, it doesn't really matter what that person has between their legs."
"Damn you Patty May, you're making it pretty hard to hate you."
A hopeful smile began to appear on Pat's face.
"Okay, okay, you win," I said. I can't screw up that many lives just to be petty. I'll call Wilber Cory and see if he can draft a three-year extension to the lease."
Pat hugged me, gave me a big kiss, and said, "Thank you, thank you. Now what about Jason."
I smiled and said, "Tell him seven this evening at Silks, Now let go of me before my cock goes to a full hard-on."
Pat kissed me again, and I headed back to OKC to see if Jason would show up.
It was one minute to seven when Jason walked into Silks. He was wearing a charcoal grey sport coat over a black V-neck T-shirt that looked like it was painted on, blue jeans, and black leather boots. His hair was styled, and he wore a gold watch with a gold band. The kid turned heads as he walked through the dining room to our table.
"Nice look," I said.
"Thanks, my friend Reno helped me put it together. It's not my usual style."
"Maybe you should consider making it your style," I said, and Jason smiled.
When the waiter arrived to take our drink order, I said, "I ordered for both of us last time. Let's see what you can do tonight."
"I'll give it my best shot," he said and then turned to the waiter. "We'll start with the fried calamari. I'll just drink water, but my friend will have a Rob Roy."
"Hum, calamari," I said, "Looking at the menu. You're either going seafood or Italian."
"Or I could be going Avant-garde."
"True, but the Rob Roy, is a variation on the Manhattan, and not a trendy drink. So, I believe we could eliminate that as a suspect."
"Of course, detective. Although, it was foolish of you to show me your cards before I commit to a trump."
"Unless I'm attempting to subconsciously steer you toward the steak."
Ah Monsieur, you are too clever by half."
"Okay, okay, enough of this silliness. The rest of the diners will think we're idiots."
Jason looked around and said, "That might be true if there were any other diners remotely close. So, what do you want to talk about that requires so much privacy?"
"Now who's the detective," I said in a lame attempt to stall for time. Finally, I said, "First I want to apologize for jumping to the conclusion that you and Pat were up to some tawdry scheme. This afternoon, Pat and I went a long way to clearing up the bad blood between us. We're not completely there yet, but we are a lot closer."
"That's good to hear. Pat told me much the same thing. Now, I can ask you for my favor. For the same reasons you left Kingfisher, I feel I need to leave as well. It will be hard to leave Mom, Pat, my brothers, and their families, but I have to. So, the favor I want is for you to take me to Chicago with you. I couldn't pay you, at least not right away, but I could compensate you in other ways."
"Wait! What? Are you suggesting...?"
"Yes, I could be your sugar baby, or houseboy, or whatever you want until I can get a job and enough to move out on my own."
I was just sitting there in stunned silence when the waiter brought me my Rob Roy. I took a drink, and said, "Perfect, I'm going to need a couple more of these."
"Yes sir," the waiter said and then asked if we were ready to order.
"Yes," Jason said, "we'll have the Blackened Atlantic Salmon, with balsamic rice, and asparagus."
The waiter took the menus and went to place our order and get me two more Rob Roys.
"You didn't order dessert," I said.
"Mom made her Caramel Turtle Cheesecake, and I snagged a couple of pieces. They're in a cooler in my car. I thought we could go back to your room for dessert, but it looks like that isn't going to happen now." The look on Jason's face was heart-wrenching.
I said, "Just hold on. First, I never turn down dessert; especially something that sounds as delicious as Caramel Turtle Cheesecake. Second, you're my designated driver, because I have a feeling, I'm going to need one." I downed the last of my first Rob Roy just as the waiter brought me a second. "Third," I continued, "I didn't say no."
Jason's face suddenly lit up. Damn, the changing emotions of that day could give someone whiplash. "But," I said, "you don't even know me."
"I know what's important. You're kind, smart, and funny. You're hot and amazing in bed. I could learn so many things from you..."
"Look kid, I'm sure at some point someone thought all of those things about Jeffrey Dahmer, and look how that turned out."
"I asked Pat about you, and he said you were a good guy."
"Okay, what do your mother and Pat think of this idea?"
"They didn't say much when I told them. I know Mom hates the idea of my living that far away, but she also knows there's nothing for me in Kingfisher. Even Oklahoma City is nothing compared to Chicago. Pat just said, `You know your mother and I will always be here if things don't go the way you hope'."
I thought for a minute and said, "Let's just treat this like a job interview, because that's what the arrangement would be, a job. So, none of my questions or your answers can be about sex. Sex is off the table."
"Okay," Jason said.
"So, here's your first question: What's the job description for this position?"
Jason seemed a bit taken aback that I wanted him to come up with the job description, but he was soon on track.
"I would be responsible for cleaning, laundry, cooking, shopping, and running errands."
"And, what else?"
I could see his mind working, and I knew that sexual services kept coming to mind, but he also knew they couldn't be part of the job description. Finally, he hesitantly said, "Be a friend." I smiled and he knew he'd nailed the first question.
The next question was: What do you want from this job? He thought, then said, "Room, board, an allowance, I hope health insurance and a gym membership. I also would like a mentor and a friend.... Oh, and it would be nice if we did some fun things together..." I looked at him a bit askance, and he added, "You know things like movies or plays, maybe go to a museum or art gallery."
"Good save," I said, and he smiled.
After that, he asked me questions about what I wanted from him, my house, whether I had a pet, what the neighborhood was like, whether I liked the Cubs or the White Sox, did I ever go to a Bulls game, etc."
After we finished eating and I picked up the check I asked him if he wanted to watch the horses or play the slots. He just smiled and said, "I'd rather have dessert."
So, we went to his car and when I climbed in, I said, "Phew, it smells like horse shit in here."
"I'm sorry. I forgot to get my work clothes out of here after work the other day."
"What did you do, roll around in the manure?"
"Just about. One of the mares was having trouble giving birth and no one else was around, so I ended up giving the vet a hand. At one point, I had to get down on the ground to help him."
"So did it turn out alright?"
"Yep, there is a beautiful new colt at Chisholm Crossing."
When we got to the Waterford, Jason grabbed the cheesecake and we went up to the room. I made coffee and Jason served the cheesecake, The first words out of my mouth were, "Damn, Pat got a keeper this time." Then I had to say, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk about your mother that way."
"That's okay. She says she got a keeper in Pat. Did Pat tell you anything about Mom and me before him?"
"Just that you and your mom had a rough go of it."
"My father was a sadistic, lazy, abusive drunk. I was his `gofer' and Mom was his punching bag. That's not to say I didn't get my share of beatings from the asshole. Mom would have stayed and took it until he killed her, but when she figured out I was gay, I was 12 then, she decided we needed to get out of there. We were gone about a week when Mom got word that the ratty trailer we lived in caught fire and he was too drunk to get out. The police report said the cause of the fire was smoking in bed and that a bottle of high-octane moonshine was the accelerant. I however believe it was the crazy old lady who owned the trailer park that started the fire. My father was a bully and a bum who terrorized his neighbors and was always behind on paying our lot rent. So, after we were gone, I think she decided to close his account."
"So how did your mother meet Pat?"
"It was a cold rainy day and we were walking down U.S. Highway 81 headed where I don't really know. Pat was driving home from OKC after selling some cattle at the stockyards. He saw us and pulled over when 100 other drivers didn't. He probably saves our lives. He brought us home to Kingfisher. When we got to the farmhouse, it was a mess. Pat's first wife had run off two months earlier and he was trying to keep the farm afloat and take care of two teenagers. When mom saw the state they were living in she got right to work. Pat tried to get her to sit down, but she refused until she was too tired to move another step. Pat gave Mom his room and he moved to a small room on the ground floor. Mom said she shouldn't take his room, but he insisted. I was moved into the boys' room. You know I don't remember Pat ever asking us to stay. We just did."
"So, when did you find out Pat was gay, bi, confused, whatever he is."
"I'm not sure, but when I started having questions around 13 or 14 about my sexuality, Mom sent me to Pat. The funny thing was that's about the same time I saw Pat sneaking into Mom's room at night. I was scared because I knew what Mom went through during sex with my father. There's not a lot of privacy in a ratty old trailer house. I started hearing Pat coming up the stairs more and more, until they gave up the pretense. As for what they do at night, that's none of my business, for all I know they read each other poetry, but whatever they're doing makes them happy. Buck and Milo see it the same way."
"So, do you know why they decided to get married? It sounds like they were fine without it."
Jason said, "I think Pat is afraid he'll get sick or die and Mom won't have legal rights."
"Is there something wrong with Pat?"
"No, he's a horse, but he's aware that his father and grandfather died young, so he's being cautious."
We'd been talking for about half an hour, and the cheesecake and coffee were long gone.
I stood up and said, "I'm tired and need to get to bed." I stripped bare-ass naked and crawled into the king-size bed. Jason just stood there not sure what to do, so I propped up on my elbows and said, "The way I see it you've got three choices. You can get into bed. You can get into your stinky car and drive back to Kingfisher. Or you can just stand there with a dumb look on your face. Whatever you decide is your business but turn off the lights."
Jason smiled, stripped, turned off the lights, turned the A/C on high, and crawled into bed. When he curled up against me, I said, "Hey, remember sex isn't part of the interview process."
"This isn't sex," Jason said. "I'm just demonstrating another reason to hire me, human body heater. I hear the nights can get pretty cold in Chicago." I couldn't deny how good it felt to have a warm body next to me.
The next morning, I woke up early, grabbed a shower, and got dressed. Then I shook Jason to wake him up. He was groggy and when he saw I was dressed became all flustered, "What's going on... are you leaving me ... did I...?"
I tried to calm him down, and said, "I need some time and space to think. I've called an Uber to take me to my car. I have a meeting with Pat and Wilber Cory at the Kingfisher State Bank at 10:30. Be there and I'll give you my answer then.
After getting my rental car from Remington Park, I decided to find a coffee shop and have a little breakfast.
Signing the lease with Pat and deciding what to do about Jason were the last pieces of business to wrap up before I could get on a plane to Chicago. I would be glad to put Kingfisher behind me, but could I really do that if I took Jason with me? It would be like having a rope stretched all the way back to Kingfisher, Pat, and my past.
I was still debating what to tell Jason when I walked into the Kingfisher State Bank. I had brought my Pelican case and put the contents of the safety deposit box inside. I then went to see the Bank VP I had previously dealt with, told him I needed to open an account, and handed him the check the bank had given me when it closed Aunt Lily's bank account. I explained what I did in Chicago and that it might be messy for me and my partner if I couldn't delineate the farms in Oklahoma from the business in Chicago. I said that I would have the oil royalty checks deposited in that account and the rent, and that taxes and other farm expenses would be paid from it.
After the account was set up, the VP took me to the conference room where Pat, Tania, Buck, and Milo were waiting. I wasn't surprised to see Buck and Milo, since they were partners with Pat. However, I was surprised to see Tania. Wilber was there with the contracts and so was the bank's notary.
Wilber started the meeting and said, "The terms of the lease are essentially the same as it was when Lily owned the property with two additional clauses. The first is that the leaseholders will be responsible for the upkeep and care of the house in Kingfisher until it is sold or rented."
"That's not a problem," Pat said.
Then Wilber continued, "I was informed that there was a verbal agreement as to how the shale pit was to be maintained. That verbal agreement has been formalized in the lease agreement." Buck and Milo looked confused, but Pat knew why the shale pit was important to me... and also to him. He smiled and nodded.
We were just getting ready to sign the documents, when Jason stepped in and asked his mother if they could talk in the lobby. A knot started to form in my stomach. I was so distracted by what I was going to have to say next that I almost misspelled my name on the new lease paperwork. Jason and his mom came back into the room in a couple of minutes.
The notary had just finished affixing her seal to the lease and was giving us each our copies when the bank VP came in and said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the D.A., wanted to make sure you got this before you leave." Then he handed me a box.
When I opened the box, inside was Aunt Lily's ruby necklace. I looked at it for a minute, then it became clear what I was going to say to Jason. I looked at Jason and said, "There is one last piece of business to settle. So, Jason, do I buy one or two tickets to Chicago?"
Jason smiled and said, "Two please."
--The End--
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