around, it was that tall guy. He obviously didn’t like ho-dogs.” I paused; I really didn’t want to insult my friends, but I didn’t have much choice. “Especially conceited ones. He even said something to me about how you all weren’t going to change until the mirror on the wall adjusted your perspectives.”
“But…what’s it to him?” Todd asked.
“A matter of principle, maybe.” That was all I could give them. But I had a feeling I was on the right track. “The three of you coming on to his boyfriend could’ve tripped his principle switch. And he did overhear you dissing a whole bunch of men you didn’t know, just because you found them physically lacking.”
My companions seemed troubled as they pondered my theory.
Fallon slumped against the back of the booth and closed his eyes. “So now what do we do?”
“I suppose we could always try finding some occult practitioner,” Todd said. “I know there are witches in the area. Probably other pagan types, too.”
“This is crazy,” Jake muttered, clearly flustered. “Maybe I’ll just go back to the doctor. And not of the witch variety.”
“I think what you should do,” I said, “all of you, is go to one of the bars when you leave here and test my theory. Approach men who appeal to you and men who don’t. See if there’s a difference in their reactions. Hell, even ask the guys who seem disgusted what the problem is. Then you can decide how to proceed.”
The members of the Hunt Club exchanged uneasy glances.
Lifting and dropping his hands, Fal sighed. “Why not? What’ve we got to lose?”
Jake drained his glass. “Only our claim to sanity.”
* * * *
I didn’t go along. I felt wrung out. This weirdness wasn’t much easier on me than it was on Jake, Fal, and Todd. All their disdainful comments and dating habits aside, they weren’t complete assholes. I’d seen significant glimmers of kindness and generosity, as well as vulnerability, in all of them. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have let them become my friends.
The bill was already paid, so I just sat in the booth for a while, mulling things over and picking at the food tray. I drank water because I had a good distance to drive.
It was still fairly early by the time I left. I figured I could do some online research into spellcasting when I got home. The whole notion made me feel kind of disoriented and disconnected from reality, as if I were poking a toe into another dimension, but I simply couldn’t come up with a scientific explanation for my friends’ condition.
By the time I left the Wassail, the parking lot stretching before the strip mall was nearly deserted. Early spring dampness, more chilly than sultry, lapped at my face. I stood outside the restaurant for several minutes, wondering if I should give in to my craving for a cigarette. Then the craving and the wondering passed. The air was tinged with a potpourri of scents: motor oil, cooked food, awakened earth and the green growth it was spawning.
For some reason, I thought of Jake.
As I headed to my car, I thought of all our frenzied sexual encounters in his office and how often we joked about them, and how my laughter grew thinner, stripped little by little of genuine amusement, the more I came to care for him. I wondered how he’d react to the story I’d written and immediately felt a coil of anxiety in my stomach.
Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done. You had to let him know.
As I approached my car, half bathed in misty lamplight, I saw a male figure off to my right, sauntering in my direction. An adrenal surge shot through my body. It was possible I knew the guy, but it was just as possible I didn’t. I casually pulled my keychain out of my jacket pocket and fit the tip of my index finger to the tube of personal-protection spray that dangled there. A gay man could never be too careful. Especially at night. Most especially around places that served alcohol.
The dark figure continued to stroll
“But…what’s it to him?” Todd asked.
“A matter of principle, maybe.” That was all I could give them. But I had a feeling I was on the right track. “The three of you coming on to his boyfriend could’ve tripped his principle switch. And he did overhear you dissing a whole bunch of men you didn’t know, just because you found them physically lacking.”
My companions seemed troubled as they pondered my theory.
Fallon slumped against the back of the booth and closed his eyes. “So now what do we do?”
“I suppose we could always try finding some occult practitioner,” Todd said. “I know there are witches in the area. Probably other pagan types, too.”
“This is crazy,” Jake muttered, clearly flustered. “Maybe I’ll just go back to the doctor. And not of the witch variety.”
“I think what you should do,” I said, “all of you, is go to one of the bars when you leave here and test my theory. Approach men who appeal to you and men who don’t. See if there’s a difference in their reactions. Hell, even ask the guys who seem disgusted what the problem is. Then you can decide how to proceed.”
The members of the Hunt Club exchanged uneasy glances.
Lifting and dropping his hands, Fal sighed. “Why not? What’ve we got to lose?”
Jake drained his glass. “Only our claim to sanity.”
* * * *
I didn’t go along. I felt wrung out. This weirdness wasn’t much easier on me than it was on Jake, Fal, and Todd. All their disdainful comments and dating habits aside, they weren’t complete assholes. I’d seen significant glimmers of kindness and generosity, as well as vulnerability, in all of them. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have let them become my friends.
The bill was already paid, so I just sat in the booth for a while, mulling things over and picking at the food tray. I drank water because I had a good distance to drive.
It was still fairly early by the time I left. I figured I could do some online research into spellcasting when I got home. The whole notion made me feel kind of disoriented and disconnected from reality, as if I were poking a toe into another dimension, but I simply couldn’t come up with a scientific explanation for my friends’ condition.
By the time I left the Wassail, the parking lot stretching before the strip mall was nearly deserted. Early spring dampness, more chilly than sultry, lapped at my face. I stood outside the restaurant for several minutes, wondering if I should give in to my craving for a cigarette. Then the craving and the wondering passed. The air was tinged with a potpourri of scents: motor oil, cooked food, awakened earth and the green growth it was spawning.
For some reason, I thought of Jake.
As I headed to my car, I thought of all our frenzied sexual encounters in his office and how often we joked about them, and how my laughter grew thinner, stripped little by little of genuine amusement, the more I came to care for him. I wondered how he’d react to the story I’d written and immediately felt a coil of anxiety in my stomach.
Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done. You had to let him know.
As I approached my car, half bathed in misty lamplight, I saw a male figure off to my right, sauntering in my direction. An adrenal surge shot through my body. It was possible I knew the guy, but it was just as possible I didn’t. I casually pulled my keychain out of my jacket pocket and fit the tip of my index finger to the tube of personal-protection spray that dangled there. A gay man could never be too careful. Especially at night. Most especially around places that served alcohol.
The dark figure continued to stroll
Similar Books
