Tampa, Florida
Part 2
[It seems rather pointless now to refer to Cody as Kyle, as he was known to Daniel. That was the name he chose in the early days when he was still paranoid about being outed. So from here on in, Cody is Cody. Daniel’s dog will keep the name Kyle, though. A bit confusing but, hey, you’ll get used to it. MrB]
For a long time after I’d received the news about Cody’s death the very mention of his name would cause me to dissolve into tears; or at the very least, cause my eyes to water and sting big time. My mom, Andy and Greg would avoid using his name around the house, and my buds did likewise at school or on weekends.
But after some months [my mom called it the ‘grieving period’] I kinda chilled out and focused more on the cool memories of my bud rather than on my loss. And there were a helluva lotta memories; hundreds of them that would stay with me forever. So, now, when his name comes up in convos it’s OK. I can handle it. There’s a lot to laugh about and feel good about. OK, so there are sad times, too, but I’m learning to handle them.
Early one Saturday morning, my black-haired, blue-eyed bud Paul and I were riding our BMXs around the ‘hood trying to decide what we’d do to kill some time. He suggesed we ride down to the Tampa Bay marina. Yeah, not a bad idea. There was always plenty to see, like all those wicked yachts and cruisers that his and my families could never afford to own. An inflatable dinghy was more in keeping with our finances.
The marina was also a popular spot with amateur fisher folk, dangling their lines off the wharves or casting a rod. Lots of guys my age and younger were into it but I didn’t have the patience for fishing. It was cool to watch the gulls squabbling, though, forever hoping for a handout. But they were no match for the pelicans that could swallow a whole fish in one gulp. Thank you very much! Next, please!
“I wonder what they think of humans.”
“The pelicans? Hey, if some dude was throwing food at you all the time, what would you think? That he was nuts, right?”
We chained our bikes to a post, grabbed a Pepsi and a hotdog each from a kiosk, and went for a stroll around the various boardwalks, checking out the moored boats - dozens and dozens of them – brass fittings and lacquered timbers gleaming in the Florida morning sunshine, and being preened and polished by their proud owners.
Both Paul and I had our ts tied around our waists, and were barefoot, so it was kinda cool to see some of the people giving us the eye as we walked past. Not much point in having a tanned, muscular bod if it wasn’t gonna attract attention. Whoa! Just as I was thinking those thoughts, I spotted a young shirtless dude – well, he was about 19 or 20 – working on the deck of a yacht. Fucking hell! What an awesome hottie! With every movement, his bod would ripple with pure, cut, taut muscle, made all the more obvious by the gleaming film of perspiration on his tanned skin. He wasn't overbuilt; just nicely fit and athletic.
Paul and I stood there, just a few feet away, watching the dude while we munched our hotdogs and sipped our Pepsi. I was kinda hoping he’d notice me. Well, he did for a split second then went back to his work. I didn’t even get so much as a fucking smile or a ‘hello’. So I figured I’d have to make the first move.
“Cool boat, man.”
“Thanks.”
“You from around here?”
“Nope.” The dude was responding like a robot, answering me but not really paying much attention. Actually, he seemed a bit aggro… the type you didn’t wanna mess with. Then he suddenly stopped working and looked at me. “Sorry. Are you the owner’s son or something?”
“Yeah, right! I wish! Nah, we’re just locals checking out the boats for something to do. Who’s the owner?”
“A guy named Robinson. We’re expecting him here this morning. We arrived last night.”
“From where?”
“South Africa.”
“Cape Town?”
“Nope. Durban. That’s where the boat was built. Actually, it was built in Johannesburg, then trucked by special rig to Durban where the masts, sails and other gear was fitted. Mr Robinson is taking delivery today.”
“Is your name Mark?”
Well, that sure got him curious. He stood up straight, facing me, and I couldn't help but get an eyeful of his awesome powerful chest. “Yep. How did you know?”
“Cody’s friend?”
“You knew Cody?”
“This is my buddy Paul. I’m Daniel.” We all shook hands as Mark leaned toward us. His grip could have easily crushed all my fingers. Wow! He was still standing on the deck, while Paul and I were standing on the pier. Then I told him how my school’s swim team had visited Cape Town to compete at a meet with a bunch of other schools, including Cody’s. “I think that was the year before you met Cody. Did he tell you about us?”
“Nope.”
“He told me about you. He emailed me a lot.”
“Yeah, I knew he had friends on the internet. I could never understand why, though. He already had a stack of friends at home. Anyway, guys, I’ve gotta finish cleaning up before Mr Robinson arrives. Don’t mean to be rude. Maybe we can catch up later.”
“Where are you staying?”
“We’re booked in at the Marriott.”
“The Marriott Waterfront Hotel? Whoa! That’s total class, man. But I guess that figures. So is this boat. Sorry, yacht. You got a pen or something? I’ll give you my phone number.” Then I got an idea. “Hey, can we help you get the boat ready for Mr Robinson?”
“You know anything about yachts?” he asked as he scribbled my phone number on a piece of paper, which he then put in the pocket of his shorts.
“Uh… not really.”
“Then I’d be spending my valuable time teaching you guys the ropes, so to speak. It’ll be quicker if I do the work myself. Sorry, guys. But thanks for the offer.”
“Be sure to phone me when you can. It’ll be cool to talk about old times with Cody.”
As Paul and I walked back to our BMXs, my bud threw a spanner in the works. “You wanna talk about old times with Cody with Mark? You’ve gotta be outa your fucking mind, Daniel. Cody never mentioned us to Mark ‘cause he didn’t want Mark to know about all the sex and stuff.”
“I didn’t think of that. I was too excited about meeting Mark. Whoa! Is he awesome or what?”
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t gimme a hard time. OK, so we won’t talk about the sex and stuff. Just the other stuff.”
“What other stuff?” Paul laughed. “That whole trip was sex, sex and more sex.”
“You’re forgetting about the swim meet. Anyway, there was lots of other stuff… the hike up the mountain, meeting Cody’s buds, dining with his folks, practising our swimming at Paul’s house… a whole bunch of other stuff.”
“I’ll bet Mark is wondering what Cody told you about him in his emails. Maybe Mark won’t phone you.”
“Will you stop being so fucking negative? Of course he’ll phone.”
“Why would he? Think about it. Cody never mentioned you or me, so it’s not like Mark knows anything about us. We’re strangers, man. Total fucking strangers.”
“Are you trying to ruin my fucking day?”
“No. I’m just being realistic, dude. I don’t want you getting your hopes up only to be disappointed.”
“This was meant to happen, Paul. Cody’s got a hand in this somehow. I just know it. Mark in Tampa? What are the odds of that happening? It was meant to be.”
Well, that put paid to going anywhere that afternoon. I wanted to be home in case the phone rang. So Paul and I pedaled back to my house, where we skinny dipped in the pool ‘til lunch time. I thought about phoning some of the guys and inviting them over, but that would’ve made it kinda awkward if Mark called. Greg was out somewhere with Lindy, so that left just me and Paul and Kyle... and my folks.
“Lunch is ready,” mom yelled as she placed burgers and fries on the patio table, helped by Andy who was carrying the salad and a tray of drinks. Paul and I scrambled outa the pool, closely followed by a wet dog who did the doggy thing as soon as he arrived at the table – vigorously shaking his whole shaggy black and white coat, and sending a huge spray of water all over the damn place, causing everyone to shield their faces.
“Why do dogs do that?”
“They don’t know how to use towels,” mom smiled as Paul and I grabbed a towel each and dried ourselves. “And we don’t know how to do what he’s doing. Maybe that's just as well. There’s a bone in the fridge. You’d better give him that or he’ll pester us with his sad ‘why-isn’t-there-something-for-me-to-eat?’ eyes.”
Yeah, I thought as I ran naked into the kitchen to fetch the bone, dogs had a way of giving you major guilts if you were eating and they weren’t. I was back outside in a flash, and threw the bone onto the lawn, where Kyle pounced on it, and soon had it secured between his front paws, gnawing away happily.
“Mmmm, McNancys,” I said before taking my first bite. “Your burgers totally rule, mom.” And they did. No way McDs or Burger King or anyone else could touch my mom’s burgers for flavor. Paul agreed. He was wearing half of his on his face, using the back of his hand to wipe it off, and then licking it clean. “Where are your damn manners, man?”
“Manners schmanners. Burgers weren’t designed to be delicate,” he grinned, knowing that eating outside didn’t require the same rules of etiquette as eating inside the house. Then he stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries and wrinkled his nose at me.
“How come dogs know how to get their own way?” I asked while observing Kyle on the lawn. “It’s not like they’re taught or anything. Must be instinctive or something.”
“We unwittingly teach them.” It was Andy who volunteered the answer. “They read body language like you and I read a book. They’re no different to kids. They know they can wear you down, and that sooner or later you’ll give in. Sometimes I wonder if dogs know us better than we know ourselves.”
But my mom was more interested in Mark than canine behaviour. She wanted to know more about the hunk.
“Well, if you saw him, I think you’d go totally ballistic, mom. He’s a real hot looker – a real ladies’ man. Cody told me the dude used to turn heads wherever he went.”
“Oh? You’ll have to invite him to dinner.” Then she realized what she’d said, and blushed. “I mean, if he’s Cody’s friend then naturally he’s welcome here anytime.”
“Just don’t go running off with a young sailor,” Andy grinned, and gave my mom a friendly jab with his elbow.
“Men! All they think about is… Never mind. Anyway, it doesn’t hurt to look. It’s not like I’m blind or over the hill or whatever. I’m still a girl at heart, y’know.”
By late afternoon, the phone still hadn’t rung. Well, it had, but they were calls for my mom or Andy. I’d be outa the pool at warp speed and dripping wet at the back door by the time I'd realized the call wasn’t from Mark.
“You gotta chill,” Paul insisted as he toweled himself. “It’s gonna be no fun sleeping over tonight if you’re gonna be all bent outa shape waiting for the fucking phone to ring.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Not really. But I’m getting kinda pissed off. You’ve gone all quiet and moody.”
“Sorry, bud. Hey, maybe I should phone the Marriott hotel.”
“And ask for who? You don’t even know what Mark’s family name is. Cody never mentioned it. Besides, the room is probably in his boss’s name or something.”
“Well, I can’t just wait for fucking ever! I’ve gotta do something! This is driving me crazy.”
“Tell me about it. Hey, are we gonna camp out in the backyard tonight in the tent? Like old times? Remember Danny’s trick with the feather? Well, the cooking brush or whatever. Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”
I grabbed my towel from the back of the patio bench and began to dry my blonde hair. I was down to toweling my butt and crotch by the time I answered my bud. “Yeah, maybe you’re right, Paul. Mark doesn’t even know me, and I’m behaving like some fucking schoolgirl with a crush. He’d probably think I was some kinda dork if I tried to contact him. But it would be cool to talk about Cody with him.”
“You can talk about Cody with me.”
“Thanks, man. But it’s not the same.”Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved. mrbstories
