Taking a Hard Right

From your Author:

If you are underage; turn away. I don’t write for the youth and you shouldn’t be reading. Please. I have responded to you, kids. I have said time and time again. ‘I don’t know where to turn you. I understand your hunger; can only imagine what your day is like’. It was so…different back in my time.

You? If you read, you know I am an old man raising my Grandson’s. This world; GayDemon, was never intended for the young. This site offers much and doesn’t need more than a yes in the blue box. I understand that a writer on a gay website; wouldn’t want to turn you away; I am not that writer.

I don’t know about the other Author’s; or whether they even respond to you. You, guy’s load my inbox, just so you know.

I see this series going ten chapters or more; RJ isn’t a short story, one-off, kind of writer. This one has held my undivided attention for a while now, and I hope to be setting the backdrop for another ten-thousand more words. I seem to interject myself into most stories: me, RJC.

I sat in the sun this morning re-reading ‘Dirt road Main Street’. I spent last night going over ‘The Bug’, ‘Something Different’, And ‘Taking a Hard Right’. I re-read ‘Over a Scotch’, and some chapters from ‘The Start’. I hope you enjoy, vote, and comment. Think about holding up your lighter at a concert. RJC.

As traffic thinned we stopped talking and I did an exploratory of him driving my car, in my clothes. When I leaned back against the passengers’ door he finally looked over at me matching my smile, “What”? he asked.

I didn’t answer, didn’t really have an answer. I did enjoy what I saw and being the one not driving. “Are you hungry?” I asked with a smile.

“I don’t know about you but I’m always hungry.” He said looking over at me again. “You like clams, oysters, and seafood shit, crayfish?” I asked. He nodded. “Take the next exit and go right.” He did.

It had been almost a year and the guy remembered me; don’t know how? “Table for two, RJ?” He asked smiling.

He answered my question before I could ask, “Yes, everything is fresh, and I’ll bring you a scotch.” I smiled.

Now Collin had a look, his brows kind of knitted together, and I gave him my best ‘what’ eyes? “How are we like fifty miles away from your apartment and this guy knows you?”

“What do you want?” I asked not answering his question. “You do know about oysters, right?” And my scotch arrived.

“Bring us a sampler and a bucked of crayfish; I’ll have the clams; I think my friend wants the oysters. Am I wrong?” I asked and he smiled agreeing.

“This place is over the top with a view to die for. You come here a lot?”

“I like to eat out, Collin. Add to that, I love driving my car. I probably haven’t been here in a year.” And I took a sip of top-shelf scotch.

“You’re funny. Are you ready to tell me why you parked in traffic just to buy me dinner?” He asked with a tilted head.

I took another sip giving him my own tilted head with dimples. “It had nothing to do with your looks; honest. I mean you do know how fuckin hot you are, right?” I lied and he blushed.

“I honestly thought you were walking up to hit me or something.” As his head lowered shaking it back and forth.

“Do I come off like that?” I asked. I’d never seen myself like that.

“You don’t know what it’s like. I only sit on the corner till I have enough for a burger and some fries; I spend the rest of the time in the woods.” And he looked away from me viewing out the window seeming ashamed.

I really thought about that; what it must have been like. ‘The rest of the time I sat in the woods’. Really?

We didn’t talk for a while as I thought about what it must have been like for this kid who looked like he lived well. He was right and I decided I would do what he had; sit on a street corner asking people to take pity on a poor young guy.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I never expected waking up like that. I shouldn’t have touched you, I mean touching you in a, turn you on way. I didn’t mean to. And you do know how hot you are, right?” He smiled back at me.

“Now who's being funny? Are you ready to tell me? I will tell you that you feel really good sleeping on me, I’m not sure what it is about you, but I see us growing old together; don’t want to scare you off.” The fact was, I did see that, and our seafood arrived.

My clams were sand-free and I fed him some off my little fork. He had four different sauces for his oysters and did the same for me. “Is this like a first date?” He asked.

“We are a couple of guys who have known each other less than twenty-four hours, Collin? I think I can help you, get you a job that can take you places. I’m not dumb and I can tell you aren’t either. I know people.” And I pointed to my glass as the young man smiled walking away to fetch me another.

“Why???” He asked.

I didn’t have an answer. “Just because; no strings.” And I smiled thinking about strings.

“My mom caught me with a friend. We were good friends. I thought we were alone when she walked in catching us in a 69. She fuckin freaked.” And he looked out the window again.

“How’s your friend?” I asked.

“I haven’t seen or talked to him since. It was the first time and my mom made me out as the bad guy taking advantage of a good kid; meaning I wasn’t.” And he looked at me.

“She told my Dad and from their reaction, I walked away. I left it all behind, my folks, friends, my room, all my stuff; I left it all behind, and now,” He smiled, “I feel kind of ok with it sitting across from you.” He finished.

“I need you to understand, Collin. I am not boyfriend material. I’ve tried but would always hear, ‘you are controlling, a narcissistic asshole. Too dominating and submissive, too self-absorbed, just too, too, too.” And I downed what was in my glass.

“Are you really going to dis on yourself like that? What guy who looks like you, isn’t a little narcissistic? FYI, I think I’d like a little Ying and Yang in the bedroom; might be close to the top in my book.” And he smiled. That fuckin smile made my guts churn.

“That little sixty-nine with your friend was the first time you ever did something like that; am I wrong?” And I could tell I wasn’t.

“So what? Yes, it was. I had a girlfriend but it wasn’t what I wanted and didn’t last long. I mean lots of guys jack off together, compare what we have, and challenge each other to shoot as far as we can. And you caught some serious air, dude.” I noticed his dimples for the second time. Damn.

“Well. You shouldn’t have, I mean, like watched me do that. You could have walked away. I live alone and just because the doors open doesn’t mean you are welcome to watch.” And I dropped my card for the bill.

“You’re funny. Would you have walked away missing what I saw? I think not.” And we stood.

“Keys,” I said walking to the driver’s door.

“You’re drunk.” He stated.

“It’s my fuckin car and I’m not drunk.” He dropped them on the ground and started to walk.

Now that just kind of pissed me off as I got behind the wheel; who does he think he is? I looked in the mirror as he walked in the same direction I was heading; I had a heart to heart with myself in two short miles.

He was right when he said I was drunk; I knew my doubles were triples. I stopped in the turn lane thinking about driving the hour home; and I spun a You turn. I came to a fast stop about a hundred feet in front of him getting out and got in on the other side. “I’m sorry,” I said when he got behind the wheel.

“I knew you’d come back.” And he put it in D. “Buckle up.” Was the last I heard for a few miles.

“You don’t like yourself, do you?” He asked.

“I love myself, dumbass.” Was my reply.

“You might luv yourself, but you don’t really like yourself very much? Tell me I’m wrong?”

Now I’m not used to people calling me out; least of all a kid holding a sign yesterday. But he was right. I didn’t answer as I paired my phone.

I do this a lot, living by myself, not having others around, I sing. “Cause, I’m hopeful, hopeful for today.” And my head rested back.

The next one came on, ‘Waiting for the sun. Tonight we’ll be all right.’

To be continued...