Tampa, Florida
Part 9
After retrieving my bike, I walked with Mark back to the Marriott Hotel. For a young guy, he had a totally confident stride. Not cocky or anything; but like he was in control of whatever situation he happened to be in. Passers-by would do a double-take when they saw him, probably wondering who he was. He kinda gave the impression that he was important… maybe a celeb or something. Hey, he was to me.
“You wanna check this place out, Daniel?” he asked as we arrived at the entrance. “It’s awesome!”
Yeah, right. The concierge asked if I wanted valet parking for my bike. At $14? No way! So I had to wheel it down the street a ways and chain it to a pole, which Mark thought was hilarious.
Anyway, we went through the hotel lobby, which had my blonde head swiveling in all directions, wondering how so much luxury could exist in one place. Then we took the elevator to his room. Whoa! It was a mini fucking palace!
“This must be costing a fucking fortune!”
“Probably,” he said, heading straight for the bar fridge. “But it’s all part of the deal. George is paying for it, at least until tomorrow morning when I check out. Wanna beer?”
After Mark had popped the two ice-cold cans and handed one to me, I spent a while just checking out the furnishings as well as the view from the window. “This is so unreal. Have you ever stayed in a place like this before?”
“Sure. All the time.”
“You’re joking, right?” Then his grin gave the game away. “That’s what I thought,” I laughed. “You’d need to be totally fucking loaded to stay in a place like this. Hey, you’re gonna be pissed off going from this joint to a backpacker’s hotel.”
“Nah, not a prob.”
“Mark?” I asked after flopping into a chair and swallowing a sip of beer. “You wanna check out now?”
“Out of the hotel? I’m paid up ‘til tomorrow morning.”
“But I’ll be at school tomorrow. Besides, you can tell my folks and Greg all about today’s sailing over dinner tonight.”
“I’m invited to dinner? Hey, boyo, your mom’s expecting me tomorrow, not now.”
“I’ll phone her. It’ll be fine.”
“Listen, Daniel, I appreciate the hospitality, OK? But I don’t wanna be a pain in the butt to your mom. I don’t like using people. Maybe this staying over at your house isn’t such a good idea. Anyway, I’m kinda used to being independent. Sharing a room with you might lead to… whatever.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Chill. I’ve heard all that crap before. Well, not exactly 'heard', but Cody told me how you felt when he offered to let you share his room when you were between places, and you turned him down ‘cause you said you’d end up beating the shit outa each other.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “I wish the fucker was here now so that I could beat the shit outa him for hitching that damn ride. Fucking idiot. Why the fuck did he have to do that?” Mark shook his head, took a sip of beer, then added: “I’ve often wondered what things would be like now if he hadn’t made that one fatal mistake. What a fucking waste.” A moment passed, and then: “Yeah, OK, so he told you about that? Inviting me to move in with him and his folks? Seems like he told you just about everything.”
“He told me enough to know that you’re fucking impossible. You have this weird thing about not letting people get close to you. What the fuck are you worried about?”
“Close? I let Carol get close to me. I let Cody get close to me. And what happens? I move to Joburg and Carol’s got a new boyfriend in a fucking second. And then Cody goes and gets himself fucking killed. You wanna talk about being close? Huh? Leave me outa that one, boyo. Being close just means you’re setting yourself up to be trashed. You know anything about boxing? Lemme tell you something, man, let your defences down and you’re fucking dead meat. That’s what boxing is all about.”
“How close did Carol get to you?”
“Close enough.”
“Did she know you as well as Cody did?”
“She didn’t need to. So what’s the story here, Daniel? Did Cody also tell you how to conduct fucking inquisitions? I don’t need this crap. OK? I’m gonna take a shower. Maybe I’ll see you later.” And with that, he placed his half-finished beer on the coffee table, stood, and peeled off his shirt.
“What are you trying to tell me, Mark? That you would’ve been better off not knowing Cody? What kinda lamo crap is that? What was your eulogy at his memorial service all about? Do you remember what you said? Let me remind you! ‘I'll tell you how special my friend was. When other people were writing me off, and I was really on a road to ruin my life, Cody came into it.’ That’s what you said! I know your eulogy by heart.”
“I know what I said, Daniel. I know it by heart, too. But you’re not listening. Getting close to people means getting hurt. It means being vulnerable.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Would you have been better off not knowing Cody?”
“I gotta shower, man. Then I’ve got things to do. I’ll leave you to see yourself out.”
See myself out? What was all this shit? I watched him disappear into the bathroom, then I studied the can of beer in my hand. Well, I wasn’t actually studying it. I was just staring at it while I was trying to unscramble my brain. What was Mark afraid of? Showing emotion? Shedding tears? Was he afraid of being anything less than Mr Macho Man? Had the dude ever shed a tear in all his life?
I couldn’t figure it. Mark had confessed his love for Cody on the mountain. OK, so he didn’t bring champagne and fucking flowers, but he said a bunch of stuff that no one, not even Cody himself, had expected. He even tongue-kissed him! So what now? Was he ashamed of what he’d told Cody that day?
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a muffled noise. Sobbing? No way. It couldn’t have been sobbing. I stood up from the chair, then walked to the bathroom door, where I waited quietly for a while and listened closely. Yep. I could hear sobbing. Fucking hell. So that was Mark’s problem. Mr Tough Guy was too proud to show his feelings.
“Daniel?” he said as he emerged naked from the bathroom to see me still sitting in the chair. He’d obviously expected me to be gone already ‘cause he quickly returned to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and hastily wrapped it around his waist. “What are you still doing here?”
“You gonna throw me out?” There was a deafening silence while Mark dressed, and I was getting angrier and more frustrated by the second. “You’ve shown me what real friendship is all about,” I began, “and now I’ve gone and screwed that up. I hope that one day we can get it back together again. I realized the other night…”
“What the fuck?”
“I’m quoting the note you gave Cody when you left home to live in your boss’s garden flat in Cape Town. I know that note by heart as well.”
“I told Cody to destroy that fucking thing.”
“He did – after he told me about it. You went on to say, ‘I would never have believed that I could have such strong feelings for a guy, and still have.’”
“Jesus fucking Christ Almighty! Is nothing sacred or private?”
“What’s the matter with you? He loved you, Mark. He loved you … more than anything or anyone for fuck sake! You should be proud of that! He loved me too, y’know. And I’m proud of that as well. He was the best. The absolute best. Anyway, I don’t understand all this shit you’re going on about – being vulnerable or whatever. What kinda crap is that?”
“You don’t?” he asked as he buttoned his shirt. He had that Mark aggro look in his fiery eyes that I'd heard about so often. “Well, let me enlighten you, buddy. When I was just a lightie, and my dad walked out never to be seen again, I soon learned to handle life by being tough. Big time tough. Make no mistake; there wasn’t a dude in Cape Town tougher than me. Well, with one exception. The Codeman. He softened me up. For the first time in my life, I dropped my defences. I became vulnerable. I became susceptible to friendship and … yeah … love. But I couldn’t really handle it. It was foreign to me. It meant having to give as much as I was receiving. Yeah, right. How the fuck could anyone give as much as Cody did? No way, man. He was a bottomless pit when it came to friendship and love. When the opportunity to move to Joburg came along, I was undecided at first. But then I realized that it was the best thing to do. Cody had gotten me into a corner. He was dancing around in my brain all the fucking time. He had a grip on me. I had to get away from that grip. Understand? I had to find out who I really was. That fucker with the mop of spiky black hair and the big ever-present grin had me confused. My brain was fried.”
“You didn’t sound too fucking confused when you wrote that note.”
Mark had finished buttoning his shirt, and tucking the front and tail into his jeans. “I need to sort myself out, Cody." he said. "I need some space to think things through. You know how I feel about certain things, and they haven’t changed. I am having feelings for you that I am having difficulty in coping with.”
“Whoa! That’s part of what you wrote in the note. An exact quote.”
“Yeah. So you see, Daniel? You’re not the only one who knows it by heart. Jesus, I never thought I’d live to see the day when those words would come back to haunt me.”
“So you don’t want it to happen again? Is that it? Another Cody?”
“There will never be another Cody, ever, so that will never be a prob.”
“Is that why you became a sailor? Jump on a boat and sail away from your problems?”
“What the fuck would you know? You’re a kid. You know fuck all.”
“Did Cody ever tell you about his suicide pact with Paul?”
Well, that question sure got the dude’s surprised attention. “What? Suicide? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“He and Paul couldn’t stand the idea of being separated when Paul’s folks decided to move to England, so they planned to off themselves. They were in Paul’s dad’s car with a hose from the exhaust to the cabin. The motor was running. They were just seconds from death when Cody remembered something about me, and how I handled having to leave him behind when I returned to Tampa from Cape Town. So he switched off the ignition at the last possible moment.”
“What is this crap?" he demanded as he kept shaking his head. "Cody never mentioned anything about offing himself. This is bullshit, right?”
“Nope. It happened. Word of honor, man. I would never joke about something like that. Anyway, you would never have met him if he and Paul had gone ahead.”
Mark slapped his forehead with a fairly loud smack, then spun a full 180 degrees. “You’re serious? Fuck! That actually happened?”
“Yeah. So maybe now you can appreciate what life without Cody would have been like. I know it’s tough now. It’s tough for me, too. Big time. But there’s no way I would have wanted to live my life without Cody in it … at least for a while. I wouldn’t be the dude I am now if it hadn’t been for him. Neither would you. So when you gimme this ‘vulnerable’ shit, I wonder what the fuck you’re talking about. You think you’re the only one who loved Cody? How the fuck do you think I feel? How do you think his folks feel? How do you think Steve feels? Or Steph? Or Wingnut?”
Mark grabbed his unfinished beer, parked his butt on a chair opposite me, and took a sip. I was waiting for him to say something but he was deep in thought.
“Can I make a phone call?” I asked after a minute or two of silence.
“Huh? Oh… yeah… sure. Whatever. Who are you calling?”
“My mom. I wanna let her know you’re coming for dinner.”Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved. mrbstories
