Tampa, Florida
Part 20
“Tell me about girls,” I asked as we climbed into our respective beds. I was about to turn off the bedlamp, but then decided not to. “What’s it like to be with one?”
“You mean sex?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re still a virgin?”
“With girls I am.”
“You should find a girl of your own instead of asking me about it. You shouldn’t have any trouble. You’re a pretty hot looker.”
“Maybe I should rephrase the question. I wanna know what girls think of you.”
“Compared to who? Guys like you and Code? Heh. Girls are from a different planet, Daniel. You don’t ask your girlfriend to spar with you in the ring. You don’t wrestle a chick on the bed and get her into a fucking headlock.”
“Does Candy admire your bod?”
“Yeah, she does, but not the same way you or Cody or Fingers do. Her admiration doesn’t have the same kinda physical intensity. Girls are more… well, I dunno… feminine and discreet, I guess. They appreciate different things about a guy. Subtle things like maturity and inner strength. But they also appreciate sensitivity; the kinda sensitivity guys normally don’t reveal to their buds for fear of being labeled a wuss. Heh. I mean, there was no fucking way I’d buy a guy like Code a box of chocolates, for fuck sake. With two guys it’s about competition; about who can outdo the other. Guy stuff. Well, it was between Cody and me. There was nothing remotely wussy about Code. He proved that on day one when he decked me in the school quad.”
“Paul decked me once, back when he thought I was homophobic.”
“Were you?”
“Yep. But he made me realize that my phobia was all about being pissed off with my own feelings about guys. Was that how it was with you?”
“I was pissed off with life, period, Daniel. I was pissed off that my dad had walked out when I was a kid. I was pissed about him leaving my mom to take care of me on her own. I hated weakness, and I associated weakness with faggots. …Sorry.”
“Hey, faggot schmaggot. It’s only a fucking word. Doesn’t bother me.”
“Anyway, along came the spiky-haired Codeman and proved me wrong. Maybe not totally wrong. I still can’t handle fairies too well. But he made me realize that it was OK to have feelings for another guy; that it didn’t necessarily label you as being this or that. It was about two individuals – Code and me - who had a special relationship, and it didn’t need to go beyond that. I didn’t need to be gay or even bi to love the best friend I’ve ever had; or even to have sex with him.”
“You were bent outa shape at one stage, though.”
“Yeah, I was. I remember when Cody and I were sitting on the rocks at the local beach, talking about our first sexual encounter. I had to admit that I enjoyed it, and that it was special. But I was also freaking big time about what it said about me; about who or what the fuck I was. It was contrary to everything I’d believed in up to that point.”
“And now?”
“Now? Now I think there’s a button in most people that can be pushed by a special someone, and that special someone for me happened to be Cody. I could have lived to be a hundred without meeting such a person, someone who would spend the time to find that button and push it. I don’t have a prob with the gay/straight thing anymore. I’m not gay. I never was gay and I never will be gay. I’m the straightest dude on the fucking planet. But you know what they say; there’s an exception to every rule. And Cody was that exception.”
“What about me?”
“OK,” he smiled as he turned his head to look at me. “Maybe two exceptions to every rule. But don’t get your fucking hopes up, dude. I’m not in a rule-bending mood right now.”
“You bent some rules in the bathroom. Thanks for letting me wash and shave you. That was just so damn cool.”
“I think that’s something else Code taught me… to be cool about other people getting their jollies by enjoying whatever it is they see in me, and to not be so hung up about it. We’ve all got our own personal space, and there was a time when I thought it was being invaded. I still feel that way sometimes; even most of the time depending on my mood, but I guess you could say that I’ve learned to chill about that kinda thing. When Cody took what he wanted from me, I was no less of a person as a consequence. Fact was, I was a better person, and richer for the experience.”
“Do you have these kinda convos with Candy or Fingers or Steve?”
“Nope. I keep this kinda thing pretty much to myself. Actually, I’m surprising myself by telling you all this private shit. Maybe it’s ‘cause you and Code were such good friends, and also ‘cause there’s a lotta Code in you.”
“Think?”
“Hey, maybe there’s a lotta Code in all of us, but not many of us choose to show it. Or have the courage...”
“You haven’t told me much about what girls think of you.”
“What do you want me to say? Huh? That they’re all over me like a fucking rash? OK, so they’re all over me like a rash. Happy now?”
“Sorry.”
“Not everyone wants to be a fucking pop star, Daniel. To tell you the truth, it’s a hassle sometimes. I really don’t need that kind of groupie attention.”
“What’s the bet you’d be pissed if you didn’t get it?”
“Maybe," he smiled, then got all serious again. "But it’s just the insincerity thing that really bugs me. It’s all about a quick fuck. OK, so I don’t mind a one-nighter now and then, but I can’t stand girls telling me I’m this or that when they wouldn’t know me from Adam.” Mark laughed again before he continued. “You know something? Cody hated my guts in those early days. Imagine that. He thought I was a total fuckwit. But he changed his mind. Why did he change his mind? ‘Cause he got to know me. He took the time and trouble to find out who the fuck I was. Sure, he was obsessed with my bod, but that was only part of it. He got to know me better than I knew myself… better than anyone knew me, including my own mom. He worked a fucking miracle, that dude. And you know something else? The better he got to know me, the more he loved me. Can you believe that? He was on a fucking mission to expose me, and I’m not just talking about my skin. And the more he saw of my insides, the more he liked me. He exposed the inner parts of me that I’d never had the nerve to explore myself. I’d always been fucking terrified to delve too deeply into what made me tick in case I didn’t like what I found. And what do you know? Cody liked what he found. That really blew me away. Big time.”
“But he changed what he found. Didn’t he?”
“Nope, not really. He found the part of me that I was denying. All that homophobe, bully, aggro stuff I was into was superficial. It wasn’t the real me. It was a shield, a defence, my way of protecting myself from scrutiny. Jesus, I can’t believe I was actually like that – scared of being myself. I think it had a lot to do with my dad walking out. I guess I had a complex about being unworthy or some fucking thing. Mr T helped to change that. Did Code tell you about the time he and Wingnut and Mr T came to watch me box in a tournament?”
“Yep.”
“Mr T thought I was worthwhile. He really liked me. I mean, really liked me. He had faith in me. And that time I fixed his stereo by switching a few parts around. He thought that was magic. Heh. Too easy. And that time I went with Cody and his folks on holiday up the Garden Route. Mr T and I went fishing in the mornings before the fog had lifted. Just the two of us ‘cause Code wasn’t into fishing. And we talked about stuff.”
“What kinda stuff?”
“Sport, school, Code and me and our girlfriends, the grommet. All kinds of stuff. But I could tell that Mr T was interested in me as a person, and I began to realize what a cool dad he was to Cody; that all dads weren’t like mine.”
“Your dad’s OK now, though.”
“Yeah. He regrets those years, and walking out. He’s been spending heaps of time trying to make up for it. But Mr T will always be special to me. So will Mrs T. I visit them when I can.” And with that he turned his back to me and faced the wall.
“Are you OK?” I asked after a few moments of silence.
“Time to get some shuteye. Turn off the light.”
I did as he asked, and just laid there, staring into the darkness for a while, and wondering why he suddenly stopped talking to me. I heard a sniffle, but didn’t think much of it. Then another. I repeated my question, “Are you OK, Mark?”
There was no answer, so I turned the light back on. I really couldn’t see anything except for the back of his head, but I had a feeling that something was wrong. I threw off the covers, and went over to the spare bed. “Mark?”
“Fuck off, Daniel. Let me sleep.”
“Is something wrong?” I placed a hand on his shoulder, and felt it begin to shake. “Mark?” The shaking was becoming more pronounced; even violent. And then the flood of tears began. Fucking hell. He was bawling his eyes out. What to do? I couldn’t leave him like that, and I wasn’t sure if I should get into his bed and lay next to him. He might’ve taken it the wrong way. So I chose instead to sit on the side of the mattress and hold his hand with both of mine. I felt him squeeze my fingers, but I waited for what seemed a long time before saying in a soft voice, “It’s OK, Mark. It’s OK.”
“This is the first time,” he said, keeping his face to the wall.
“First time? You mean since Cody was killed?”
“I’ve never cried, not since my dad walked out. I was a mess for a couple of days. I swore after that that I would never cry again. Never. The closest I came to crying was when Cody and I were at the bus station before I left for Joburg. My eyes were watering a little, but that was it.” Mark paused as he tried to control his convulsing body. “Crying is for fucking babies.”
“A little while ago you were telling me that there was nothing remotely wussy about Cody. He cried. Everyone cries at one time or another, Mark. What is it with you? You still trying to be the man your mom needed when your dad walked out?”
“I’ve always been the fucking man.”
“So the little boy never had a chance to be a little boy, huh?”
“Not really.”
“You wanna play a game? Can I climb under the covers with you?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Daniel!”
“Hey, chill! It’s nothing like that. I just wanna be next to you while you’re feeling down. I want you to put your head on my chest and cry your fucking eyes out ‘til you’re feeling better.”
“Fuck off, Daniel. Stop treating me like a fucking kid.”
“Isn’t it time someone did?” At that precise moment, I had an overwhelming desire to follow my instinct, and climb in next to him. So I did. I figured this was a moment when I had to be the strong one, the dependable one, the one to ease his pain. A dad. Thank fuck he didn’t resist. Well, he did for a minute or so, then he turned to face me, and laid his head on my chest. And as soon as he did, he launched into more tears and convulsions. But this time, he didn’t seem to be resisting them.
I had both arms wrapped around his upper bod, and was smoothing his black hair as he sobbed. Neither of us said a word for a long time. But that was cool. I was glad to be there for him in his moment of grief; handing him tissues every minute or so, and being a friend to him like Cody was. It was a real privilege, and I was feeling damn good about it.
“I’m sorry,” he eventually mumbled after blowing his nose for the umpteenth time.
“You’ve gotta be kidding, right? What the fuck is there to be sorry about? You think you’re the only one who’s shed tears over Cody? Fucking hell, man. Everyone has.”
“I’m not everyone.”
“You are now,” I smiled. “Welcome to the club, Mark.”Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved. mrbstories
