| Chapter 17 |
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They met at the airport gate the Sunday morning of their departure; destination—the
jungles of Mexico. The backpacks and sleeping bags had been checked through
security. At nine o’clock, five men filed onto the plane among the other passengers.
They occupied a full row of seats across the width of the cabin, quietly pondering five
days together in a jungle.
Their wives, all but Rosemary, would arrive at DFW later in the day to board a plane for
New York. Shasha’s daughters were to spend the week with their grandmother.
Rosemary, aside from the cost consideration, would have enjoyed going, but she
wouldn't leave her son with anyone for that long, despite Tim’s encouragement. The
others had wanted to arrange for her airfare and a nurse to watch after the boy, but they
had decided against making the offer. They knew Tim would not have accepted it.
The plane was in the air outside of Dallas by nine-thirty.
David sat next to Tim. He looked at him and spoke with a hushed voice: “Did you bring
the KY Jelly?”
Tim smiled. Jake, sitting on the other side of Tim, couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, shit,” said David, “I wouldn’t know if they even sell it in Mexico.”
Sitting across the aisle, Jorge said: “I think we can assume it’s a worldwide product.”
David turned. “You heard me, too?” He glanced at the people around them, wondering if
anyone else had heard.
“I packed it,” Tim assured him, putting the matter to rest.
They settled in with their magazines and their private thoughts. David was staring at the
back of the seat in front of him, contemplating circumstances he couldn’t have imagined
a few months earlier. On the surface he felt the wonderful sense of brotherhood he had
become accustomed to. All of the anxiety was gone. The anxiety brought on by denial,
that is. Then there was that other kind, the kind brought on by guilt. He and the others
had become men their wives didn’t know.
Like pin-pricks on the skin, it was difficult to ignore. Pin-pricks produced by one’s quiet
consciousness, there but not there, but never far from the perceptive mind. Guilt, the
invisible malady—sometimes a blow to the head, sometimes a subtle pricking of the
skin. Yet there was more to it than that, something that had just recently appeared on the
scene, something that he felt each time he saw James staring into space with that certain
look in his eyes, or when Tim missed part of a conversation lost in his own private
thoughts, or when Jorge or Jake fell silent.
Something else haunted them, something beyond giving themselves over to intimacy with
other men, beyond lying to their wives, beyond anything remotely obvious. Something
that promised to not let go, as phantom-like and as powerful as its first cousin guilt. They
had all reconciled their sexuality, but not one of them had reconciled the lives they wanted
to live.
The plane landed in Cancun a couple of hours later. Jake, familiar with procedures, had
made arrangements for two Land Rovers. They passed though customs, strapped on the
backpacks and carried the rest of their gear two blocks to a local car rental agency
where the vehicles awaited. Jorge signed the paperwork while the others placed their
share of the bill on the counter. When Tim saw the amount of each share, he began to
thumb through his wallet. Standing beside him, Jorge lifted his brow as Tim counted out
five twenties, amused by his never-ending vexation with money.
After loading their gear, Jake took the wheel of the first Rover. Jorge and James joined
him. David and Tim followed.
They stopped at a large market. After filling a cart with dried fruit, apples, cereal, trail
mix, powdered orange drink mix and coffee, they hauled the bags back out to the parking
lot. To reduce weight, they had decided to boil water from the river for drinking and
cooking. With the groceries loaded, the small caravan was back on the road. South of
Cancun, they turned off the main highway onto what looked like, except for the tropical
flora, an ordinary rural Texas highway. Fifteen miles distance brought them to the river
and the only road going into the village.
Bouncing over the ruts in the dust behind the first Land Rover, Tim looked at David and
said: “Rosemary felt bad about declining the trip to New York.”
“I wouldn’t give it a second thought. Linda would’ve never left our son that long when he
was four, especially if he had a respiratory problem like Brett.”
“I wanted her to go. She likes the other wives. They make her laugh.”
“Tim, you sure it wasn’t the money?”
“No. If it wasn’t for Brett, she would’ve gone. We have the money for something like that.
She deserves a vacation more than I do.”
“Speaking of money, the Addison project will be finished in another month. Are you
ready to sign on for the next one, that apartment complex in Frisco?”
“I’m ready.”
“Lot of masonry and landscaping on that one. It’s due to start about the time Addison is
finished. Should net you a hundred thousand.”
Tim looked down at his knees, then back at David. “You’ve opened a door for me.
These jobs help more than you know. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”
David was taken aback slightly with Tim’s gratitude and humility. “Well, you got that
Addison project because I had a gut feeling about you. I’m sure you know we wouldn’t be
talking about Frisco if your work in Addison didn’t meet expectations. Fact is your
landscaping ideas are exceptional. That makes it easier to land future projects. I can
even submit higher bids. Plus, if I didn’t have you, I’d be competing with the contractor
who did. So I appreciate your gratitude. Just know you also have mine.”
Tim relaxed against the seatback, watching the jungle foliage close in along side the
narrow road, thinking about how much he enjoyed working with David. Now and again he
caught a glimpse of the river. “I can’t imagine working for another contractor. You were
the first to give me a chance and I like the way you do business. I like seeing that sparkle
in your eyes when you look at what I’ve done.”
“The projects will come. You can just keep socking the money away. When your kids get
a little older, you and Rosemary can take that vacation any time you want.” David thought
of something else he was curious about. “Does Rosemary know about naked
Saturdays?”
“Yeah. When she realized we’re always the last to arrive, she asked me about it.”
“Doesn’t make her feel uncomfortable with us I hope.”
“No. She thinks it’s funny.”
“Good. You watch. I told you before, when she hits forty and the kids are grown, you may
be in for some surprises yourself. I know Linda sure looks at things differently. I like it.”
A dense growth of tropical trees and snarled brush crowded the road around them. They
carefully scanned the thick shades of green and shadows while they talked, as if the eerie
terrain harbored something ominous. The trip already seemed like a real adventure,
bouncing as they were over a rutted road through such primitive surroundings. Watching
the trees for exotic animals and birds as they drove deeper into the mysterious interior of
a foreign country, they rocked along thinking about the contrasts in cultures from one
country to the next.
“Doesn’t look like many tourists come through here,” Tim said.
“Not many. Tell you the truth, I’m glad Jorge’s with us. There’s something comforting
about having an ex-Navy Seal along in a place like this.”
“I’ve never been in Mexico before,” said Tim. “Jake seems comfortable enough coming
down here.”
“It makes you think about your Constitutional rights, now that we’ve left ours on the other
side of the Rio Grande.”
“It’s fascinating how different it is.”
“You mean Mexico?”
“Yeah,” said Tim. “Right next to the States and it might as well be on another planet.”
“I wonder what James is thinking. He appreciates the amenities of a good hotel more
than I do.” He looked at Tim and then moved his hand over and rested it on his leg.
“Well, we may not have our Constitutional rights, but we do have five days in the jungle
together.”
Tim looked down at David’s hand. It struck him as sensuous, a man’s hand resting on his
leg so close to the fly. They rode silently for a mile or two, contemplating five days in this
wilderness.
David shifted his position in the seat. “My ass is still a little sore from Thursday night.
Jorge sure gets enthusiastic.” He glanced at Tim. “Does it hurt when he fucks you?”
“A little. When he first goes in.”
“Would you want to be hung like that?”
“When I was younger, not now. He told me it’s a problem with Michelle. He can’t go all
the way in. Has to be careful every time they make love. I think that’s why he gets carried
away with us.”
“Shit! Makes you horny just thinking about it.” David looked back at the road thinking
about Jorge. “I can’t imagine not being able to make love to Linda with abandon. Guess
it really doesn’t make much sense fantasizing about being a stud.” David squeezed
Tim's leg and moved his hand to the wheel. “I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Tim looked at him.
“James has been hinting about Thursday nights. About me and him having more time
together, alone. I plan to talk to him, either down here or when we get back.” He
hesitated before he continued. “What would you think if we got our own room?”
Tim nodded. “Does it matter what I think?”
“Yeah, it does. I don’t want our friendship to change. Neither does James.”
“Our friendship won’t change,” Tim assured him. “The others know how you and James
feel about each other.” He reached over and ran the back of his fingers across David’s
jaw. “I saw this coming.”
“We’ll all spend plenty of time together, just like we have all summer. Drink some beer,
play cards, you know, be together. Then James and I … well, it would give us a chance to
be alone.”
“Because of the way you two feel about each other, it’s gotten awkward to be with other
men.”
David looked at him, surprised he said this, surprised Tim had perceived something that
he himself was only beginning to understand. He stared at the dust billowing off the first
Rover for a while, then said: “Yeah, I guess it has.”
“I envy you guys. I doubt I’ll ever know what it’s like to have a man love me that much.”
“He slept with his room mate during his last year in college. For five months. Did you
know that?”
Tim looked at him. ”No.”
“I think about it from time to time. …If that had been me, I think we would have ended up
spending the rest of our lives together.”
Tim looked out through the windshield in thought, wondering if David was leaving
something unsaid. “You know, David, I wouldn’t take anything for what we’ve had
together this summer. It’s like something that was broken has healed. But sometimes I
wonder what it would be like to have what you and James have. You know, someone
special. I don’t think it matters to Jake or Jorge. They seem to like things the way they
are.”
David’s hands tightened on the wheel. He felt that nettlesome pricking on his skin. What
he tried to ignore, what he couldn’t pretend didn’t exist, once again was trying to surface.
“I can understand that. What bothers me is we’re living a lie. We’re betraying our wives.
We’re sharing something we can’t share with them.”
He veered to the right to miss a deep rut, then let out a half laugh. “Funny how things
work out in life.” He sighed and took his right hand off the wheel and rested his elbow on
the center armrest. “I’ll talk to James first, then talk to the others when we get back to
Dallas.”
The Land Rovers rolled onto the cobbled streets of the sleepy village a few minutes later.
David pulled in behind when Jake parked along side a curb. Tim and David joined the
others in front of a building that looked like a small café and saloon. The ancient stucco
was light pink, a variation of similar shades on the other buildings around it.
“Thought we’d stop for a beer before going on to the campsite,” said Jake.
“You were right, Jake,” said James. His eyes followed a single strand of wire strung
along the poles leading out of the village. “This place is remote.”
“Some of the villagers seem to have an acute interest in us,” Tim noticed.
They stood on the sidewalk in front of the café, observing the sleepy goings-on and the
dreary buildings around them. Nestled in a timeless calm, far removed from the rest of
the world, the whole village seemed eternally prepared for a nap. It was just as Jake
described—all-out poverty. The few souls out and about defined life in slow motion: a
man across the street, sitting on the sidewalk with his back against the wall, his head
bowed in slumber; two young girls a block away, their dark eyes glued on the five men
and their vehicles; an older couple trudging up an inclined road on their way out of the
village; a young man apparently making repairs atop a building across the street, his
gaze shifting between his work and the sudden appearance of strangers. The doors on
most of the buildings yawed open on ancient hinges, and aging shutters covered most
windows instead of glass. A world far beyond anything imaginable in the States, it stood
motionless in time, mystifying and strangely enchanting. Oblivious to a fast paced world,
no one was rich or poor, and no one concerned themselves with anything beyond their
own daily struggle.
Kerosene lamps lit the dim interior of the café, casting shadows not unlike those a
hundred years before. There were a half dozen tables, one occupied by an old man
sprawled and napping. A short while after the men ordered, the young boy returned with
five bottles of Tecate he had pulled from a tub of ice. There was no electricity in the
building.
Jorge looked at James. “Think your law firm might be interested in locating a branch
office here.”
James laughed. “It’s a good thing Shasha isn’t here. We’d be on our way back to
Cancun by now.”
“I’m going to snap some pictures when we come back through,” said David. “Linda won’t
believe it without seeing it.”
When they finished the beer, the young boy asked for three dollars. He took on an
expression of disbelief when Jake handed him five and told him to keep the change.
They were on the primitive road heading out of town five minutes later.
It ran west adjacent to the river. They passed three boys in tattered underwear playing in
the fast current a half-mile out of town. The road ended in an area that looked like
impregnable jungle, except for a narrow path that continued alongside the river.
They transferred the groceries from the paper sacks into duffel bags. There were three
counting the canvas bag that contained a few cooking utensils. Each man tied a bedroll
to his backpack and strapped it on. Anxious to see the clearing, they started toward the
trees, setting a flock of birds fluttering and cawing warnings of intruders.
Jake led the way, waving his hand in front of his face. “You’ll get used to the gnats.”
One behind the other, they ducked into the trail, shrouded by countless shades of green
and leaves interspersed with sun. The air, motionless and stifling, lay on their forearms
like moist cloth. Perpetually damp and covered with decaying leaves, the ground gave
slightly under their footfall. Vines hung from overhead about their faces. Flies buzzed
incessantly, the only sound other than the birds and the fast-moving stream. They picked
through the shadows, sweating, pushing aside limbs and foliage, watching the ground for
snakes.
David quickly grew weary of the gnats swarming his ears. “I once saw a documentary
about poison frogs. Can’t remember if it was Mexico or not.”
“Further south, David,” said Jorge. “Brazil. They’re found in certain parts of the Amazon.”
“Ah yes, the Amazon,” said James, sardonically, stepping over a rotting limb. “Most likely
our next adventure.”
A few feet ahead, Jake laughed. “We’re different from everyone else. Our vacations
might as well be, too. Instead of swimming with the dolphins—we swim in the Amazon
with the piranhas and poison frogs.”
They were already sweating and sticky half way through. Jake had stopped and was
looking through the foliage toward the river.
Tim came up behind him. “What is it?”
“Thought I heard something.”
Tim squinted through the translucent shades of green and spotted a boy bathing in the
river. “There, a Mexican kid.”
“Yeah, I see him.”
The others caught up. Through the leaves they could see the sun glinting on the river. On
the opposite bank, a boy had taken off his clothes and was in knee deep water with a bar
of soap.
“How old do you think he is?”
“Sixteen, seventeen maybe.”
David spotted him. “About how old I was when I had that little episode with a boy in the
shower.”
James set down the duffle bag to rest his arm. “Damn, he’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. Just too young to appreciate it.”
“All that energy and youth lost on the young.”
“You think about what all you’d do if you could start over at that age,” Jorge said wistfully.
“Like having a buddy as beautiful as that kid over there?”
“Yeah, but at that age I wasn’t savvy enough to know what to do with a boy like him.”
Jake lifted his camera and snapped a couple of pictures. “Be my luck I’ll end up having
to explain these to Sally.”
“Explain what? You took some pictures of a local bathing in the river. What’s the big
deal?”
“Her over-active suspicion.”
“How far are we from the clearing?”
“Should be at least half way there.”
Jake turned and resumed the lead.
They finally heard crashing water ahead. By the time the small clearing came into view,
they were anxious to get the weight off their backs. Letting the straps slide down their
arms, they glanced around and then set their eyes on the waterfall. Dropping perhaps
twenty feet, sun light sparkled like diamonds in the mist. From the top of the cliff, water
cascaded down over uneven rock and sent a fine mist into the air, collecting in a shallow
pool some twenty-five feet across. From there the river resumed its journey to the sea.
Over-grown plants lined the bank on the other side of the pool, behind which rose a wall
of jungle. Shear rock jutting skyward ended the trail. The back of the thirty feet wide
clearing comprised another forbidding wall of brush and trees, which enclosed the rest of
the clearing.
“Wow. I can’t believe you found this place out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah, Jake. It’s perfect.”
Tim dropped his gear and took off his clothes, then stepped across the decaying leaves
and walked out into waist deep water. He knelt and submerged his head, then came
back up throwing off a cascade of water. He looked at his four companions and combed
back his blond hair with his fingers. A smile of satisfaction crossed his lips. They
watched him start toward the fall, sun glistening on his wet shoulders. The water was
shallower here, not quite up to his knees. He tilted his head back and the water flowed
over his face and chest.
Four men glanced at each other and then went about arranging the gear. They were in a
reflective mood, quiet, contemplating the few days ahead that seemed like a blissful
eternity. Weary from the task of getting there, they took off their clothes and sat in the
leaves in various places across the clearing and watched Tim play in the water.
David, sitting behind the others and further away from the pool, surveyed the clearing; a
womb of green, a peaceful kind of quiet accompanied by the sound of splashing water
and monkeys chattering somewhere in the trees.
Jorge was looking at Jake’s belly. “How much weight have you lost, Jake?”
“About thirty pounds.” He looked down, feeling proud, and ran his hand over his flatter
stomach.
“You’re looking good, buddy. Plan to keep it off?”
“That and about ten more.”
David’s eyes settled on Tim. He drew up his legs and wrapped his arms around his
knees. He liked it like this, being with them, looking at them, them looking at him, five
men without self-imposed facades. It was one of the simple pleasures, an escape from
the mundane routines of everyday life. He enjoyed this kind of intimacy with friends, and
five days of just that lie ahead of them. No restraints. No timetables. Five days to
celebrate, not hide their sexuality. Five days to spend with four men, to be himself without
pretense.
Five days to fend off the groping arms of guilt.
Jake cleared the leaves in the middle of the clearing down to the moist dirt. When he
ventured into the undergrowth to look for dry limbs to make a fire, Jorge got to his feet
and waded into the pool. James joined David and sat down beside him.
“I’ve never seen anything like this. Have you?”
“Hardly.”
“A good place to unwind.” James looked down at David’s crossed legs. “Have you tried
your phone?” He reached over and ran his hand up and down David’s inner thigh.
“Not yet.”
“Don’t bother. No signal out here.”
“I talked to Tim. He understands.”
James looked toward the others in thought. “Think Jorge and Jake will?”
“Sure they will. …Tim mentioned something I haven’t thought about.”
James looked at him, curious.
“He’d like to have what we have. He said Jorge and Jake like things the way they are,
but he’d like to have someone special, a boyfriend.”
“Is that what I am, your boyfriend?”
David smiled. “Sounds funny, doesn’t it.”
James nodded. “That’s understandable, about Tim I mean.”
“Yeah, it is. It would change the dynamic, but maybe he should be open to meeting
someone outside of the group. I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to bring someone in.” David
reflected on this for a moment and then added: “We’ll have to see what happens.”
“Jorge and Jake have been spending some time together.”
David looked at him, a little bewildered.
“They joined a gym a couple weeks ago. Been working out together every other
morning. They spent an afternoon together last week.”
“That’s interesting.”
“They mentioned it the other night while we were playing poker. You were in the
bathroom.”
David looked across the clearing at Tim, who was standing beside the fall. “I wonder if
that’s why he brought it up. Maybe he’s beginning to feel like five’s an odd number.”
They sat quietly for a moment, watching the others. Jorge and Jake had joined Tim in the
pool and they were taking turns standing under the water-fall. Things were changing. In
fact, for all five of them, the entire summer seemed to have been a period of change.
They had defined themselves. They had tried to come to terms with their circumstances.
Now it seemed like they were looking for the center.
David glanced down at James’s lap. A dead leaf had stuck to his leg. It felt sensual
sitting together on the ground, the shades of brown, feeling the damp earth on bare skin.
He noticed James’s cock lifting upward. Their eyes met.
James smiled. “Obviously the magic hasn’t faded.”
David reached over and massaged it, felt it grow firmer in his hand. The cock pointed
upward when James leaned back on his elbows. He stroked it and felt it throbbing in his
hand. He leaned over him just as a dribble appeared at the tiny hole, breathing the earthy
smell of a man that had trekked through a humid jungle, and his mouth closed around the
familiar shape. Familiar indeed, the texture, the supple feel of testicles in his hand. He
explored the glans with his tongue and caressed the testicles with his fingers, and he slid
the malleable sheath up and down with his free hand. Then the inevitable, the pulsing,
desperate spurts of white fluid, which filled his mouth and brought on that euphoric sense
of satisfaction, that fulfillment that makes all the risks worthwhile.
James yawned and closed his eyes. His muscles relaxed. David shifted his body and
laid his head on James’s belly. The trying day and this moment of intimacy had made
them sleepy. Listening to the sound of falling water, they both fell asleep.
The sun had dropped into the far western sky by the time they awoke. Long shadows lay
across the clearing. The glassy smooth surface of the pool reflected a deep blue sky that
hinted twilight, accompanied by the constant sound of splashing water. Jake had the fire
going. On a stone next to the small flame sat the coffee pot. He was sitting near the fire
with Jorge and Tim.
Tim poured two cups and handed them to David and James when they joined the circle.
“Nice long nap.”
“Made me feel a little groggy,” said James, reaching for the cup. “This’ll help.” He took a
sip.
David took his cup and folded his legs in front of him. “Man … you really can unwind
here, can’t you?”
Tim got to his feet. “Think I’ll go for one more swim before it gets dark.”
They watched him wade into the water and swim to the other side of the pond.
“He was talking about trying a dive,” Jake said.
“A dive!” David looked at the wall of rock. “From where?”
Jake’s eyes lifted up to the ledge at the top of the fall. “Up there.” He climbed halfway up
while you guys were sleeping.”
David scanned the rock jutting from the wall. Not an easy climb. “But the water’s too
shallow to dive in from up there.”
“It’s deep on the other side of the waterfall. At least twelve feet.”
Tim climbed out of the water at the base of the wall and started the climb, each step up a
test of his agility. David felt anxious, as did the others. They watched, both impressed by
his dexterity and visually seduced by the flex and stretch of lean muscle. As he found one
foothold after another and strained another few inches up the climb, he inadvertently
provided a provocative display of his body, enhanced by the elements of danger and
physical ability.
“I never get tired of looking at him.”
Near the top, Tim crawled up on the ledge. He stood and waved and then looked down
at the water. With his body arched he made the dive, hitting the water some six feet out
away from the wall. A big grin brightened his face when he surfaced.
David realized his heart was beating a little faster than normal. “Thank God. I hope once
was enough to satisfy him.”
It was beginning to get dark. Jake got up, put a few more broken limbs on the fire and
then got out two bags of trail mix and a few bananas. He passed them around and
rejoined the circle. “Tomorrow morning I’ll catch some fish for breakfast.”
A reflective mood had settled over them. David glanced at James now and then, who
was staring at a spot near the fire. He seemed unsettled.
“What are you thinking about?”
James shook his head. “Nothing, really.” Then it came. “You guys ever think about
talking to your wives?” He let out a frustrated breath. “Shasha doesn’t know who I am.
Not being honest with her is getting harder to live with.”
There was no immediate response, only a collective and uncomfortable introspection.
Tim got out of the water and picked up a towel. He approached and glanced at the
somber faces. “We lose someone’s grandmother?”
“I thought it would ease up down here,” David mumbled. “It’s worse. We’re hidden away
in a jungle and I’m still looking over my shoulder.”
“It bothers all of us,” said Jake.
“Dammit. Linda helped me pack. She was excited I had a chance to come down here
with you guys. A thousand miles from home and it just gets worse.”
Jorge reached for his shorts, pushed his hand into the pocket and took out a new Swiss
army knife. “Michelle gave me this at the airport. Said she was happy I finally found
some friends I enjoy spending time with.”
“It follows you around with its hands around your neck.”
Tim tossed the towel aside and sat down in the leaves. “What are you guys talking
about?”
“We’re being watched from the shadows,” said Jake.
Tim glanced into the trees and grinned. “Cannibals?”
“The women we’re married to.”
Tim looked into the trees again. “Is Rosemary with them?”
“Can’t you tell?” James asked.
“I knew she was on the plane. Guess I’m not surprised they found us here.” He reached
for his backpack and dug out an apple.
Jorge spoke: “I think about it all the time. But how do we tell them? We’ve created an
image. They believe they know everything about us. We’ve built foundations based on
trust. Telling them would change that.”
“Why?” asked David. “Why does it have to change anything?” His guilt had lapsed into
angry helplessness. “We’re human. They know we love them. Why can’t we talk to them
about it? It would have to be better than feeling guilty all the time.”
“Look,” said Tim, “we’ve had all summer together. We don’t always have to have sex.
Let’s cool things down and just be camping buddies.”
“Good idea,” said James emphatically and with a hint of relief. “I can’t stand feeling guilty
all the time. If something happens, it happens.”
Within the hour they had arranged their bedrolls on the ground around the fire. Tim was
reading a novel by the firelight. Jorge, his fingers clasped behind his head, was gazing
into the night sky. Jake was sitting on his bedroll carving on a piece of wood. David had
taken a position on a large rock close to the fall. James walked over and joined him.
Above the shadowy canopy thousands of stars filled the clear black sky. Moonlight
glinted on the pool’s glassy surface and sparkled in the falling water. The sound of jungle
night creatures merged with the sound of splashing water, which muted their voices.
“It was too much,” said James.
David looked at him. “I guess that was predictable.”
“I love those guys. I’ve never had such close friends. But all of us going to bed together,
it’s too much. There’s something unsettling being that casual.”
“We’d still feel guilty even if it was just you and me.”
“Probably, but that’s different. Somehow it seems easier to justify. The rest of it feels too
much like simple lust.”
David pondered this for a moment. Subconsciously he had drawn the same conclusion—
it really was too much. “We have to bow out.” He pulled his foot up on the rock and
wrapped his hands around his knee. “We’ll talk to the others tomorrow.”
“I think we all see it the same way.”
“Yeah. We’re evolving.”
“I know I am.”
David looked down at the rocky surface between his legs.
“You might as well know,” James went on, “if I didn’t have Shasha, I’d want you.”
David looked at him, slightly alarmed. “That’s dangerous territory, James.” The
statement made him nervous, a Pandora ’s Box, a subject he could not allow himself to
contemplate.
“I can see us living together, sleeping together every night, getting up in the morning,
making breakfast. I can see us watching a movie before we go to bed. ...You see it, too,
don’t you?”
“We made our choice a long time ago.”
“But you can see it.”
David stared at him a moment longer. “Yes.” He leaned back and braced his weight with
his hands, then closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “James ... we can’t talk about
things like that. In another lifetime maybe. I love my wife. So do you. You have three
daughters at home.”
“I know. I had to say it. I had to tell you how I feel.”
David thought about all the years they had known each other. He smiled. “Ever think
about what would have happened if I had been your roommate in college?”
“I know what would’ve happened. Our whole lives would be different.”
“That occurred to me, too.” David shook his head with a hint of frustration. “Everything’s
fine the way it is now. We’ll get our own room on Thursday nights. There’s nothing to
regret.”
“I just needed to say it. I know there’s nothing to regret. You know how I feel about
Shasha and my girls.”
“Yeah, I do, which means there’s no next level for us.”
After a nearly sleepless night, David awoke with James up close to his back, a leg
between his, an arm draped over his ribs. The intimacy on their first night sleeping
together had been subtle, but there: a lingering kiss, a breath on the neck, fingers
caressing and exploring. Body heat coupled with the warm morning air made David feel
sweaty. He stirred and James shifted when he sat up.
Jorge was sitting next to the pool, Tim beside him, their legs in the water. A few yards
downstream, Jake was fishing. James’s eyes had opened. He was lying on his back.
David leaned over and kissed him, an unhurried expression of affection, the kind of
affection that bound them in a way that words can’t.
“Now I know,” said James, looking into his eyes.
David cocked his head. “What?”
“That I like sleeping with you.”
David smiled. “You had a positive attitude going in.”
They heard Tim’s voice. “Fish for breakfast. He’s caught three already. They look a little
like trout. Jake says they’re delicious.”
David got to his feet and let out a groan with a morning stretch. “Good,” he said. “That
trail-mix didn’t go very far last night.”
By the time Jake had five fish on the stringer the others had built up the fire and circled it
with stones. While Jake cleaned the fish they fashioned fork-shaped spits out of green
branches that would hold the fish over the fire. Broiling over the open flame, the
seasoned fillets made their mouths water. They ate the fish off light-weight tin plates.
“Umm. Really good.”
“This is great. Breakfast in the open air. All of us together.”
“Might not be easy to go back to wearing clothes after five days down here.”
“It feels good, doesn’t it? Fresh air on your skin. No carbon monoxide.”
Jorge wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “That conversation we had last night
made me feel a little uneasy.”
“Be nice, though, if our wives knew. If they accepted our sexuality.”
“Sally would never accept it. She has a temper. I’d damn sure see the worst of it with
something like this.”
“She loves you, Jake,” James pointed out. “She knows you love her. Don’t you think
she'd come around in time? I think she would. I think they all would.”
David thought James might be trying to convince himself as well as the others. He felt
uncomfortable seeing him so unsettled. “We’re all tired of living secret lives. It wears on
us. We see it in each other when we’re together.”
Clearly frustrated, Jorge doubted their wives’ forbearance. David wondered whether he
wished he could talk openly to his wife or if this conversation was making him paranoid.
“It’s too unpredictable,” he said. “They wouldn’t see it the same way we do. Doesn’t
matter if it seems natural to us. Michelle would see it as infidelity.”
“What would they think of us as men?” asked Jake. “They want masculine husbands.
What if they think bisexual men are sissy boys?”
“Think about it,” said Jorge. “Your wife would know you’ve been getting fucked in the ass.”
“Isn’t that the point?” asked David. “Maybe they should know? If we could get them to
understand and accept it, all these complications would disappear. Our marriages would
be based on honesty and trust.”
“We’d still be the men they know and love,” said Tim. “They might surprise us.”
James was staring at his half eaten fish. “All I know is I feel alienated from my own wife,
and she doesn’t have a clue. I have to keep up a façade every time I’m around her. It’s
getting harder to do.”
“My biggest worry,” said Tim, “is it would come between us. I can’t stand the thought of
that, even though I would love to talk to her about it. It’d be a hard decision to make.” He
raked the fish bones into the fire and went to the edge of the pool to rinse off the plate.
“How would Shasha take it?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know. She’s open-minded, but this is something she’d never expect. It’s hard to
say.”
“You’d be asking her to share her husband with someone else,” said Jorge. “Not many
wives are agreeable to that.”
James looked down at the campfire, troubled.
“Let’s talk about something else,” David suggested. “This topic doesn’t sit well with
breakfast.”
They spent the day snorkeling in the pool, wrestling playfully and sitting in the rapids down
river. Jorge and Jake explored a section of the surrounding jungle and collected
firewood. Tim made three more dives from the high cliff, small adventures that made the
others nervous, though his ungainly climb held them in fascination.
By mid-afternoon they heard voices downstream and had just enough time to slip on their
shorts before a small group of teenagers walked into the clearing. Six all together, three
boys and three girls, all surprised to see that five Americanos had found their swimming
hole. They were obviously wary, but quickly charmed by Jorge’s diplomacy in Spanish.
Within minutes they were stripping down to their underwear and splashing in the pool,
while five men found a place to sit and look on from the clearing.
“They’re from the village,” said Jorge.
“I’m trying to remember if I had that much fun when I was their age,” said David. “I think
about my son and all the things he’s missing. He’s like me when I was that age. Too
practical. Takes everything too seriously.”
“Look how carefree they are. You don’t realize how quickly time passes when you’re their
age.”
“That skinny kid’s having trouble keeping his wet underwear up. He keeps pulling it up.”
“He probably wouldn’t be wearing it if we weren’t here.”
By nightfall they were sitting around the fire. Beyond the soft yellow glow on their faces,
the small flicker of light faded into the darkness. The birds had gone quiet. From
somewhere in the distance a screaming monkey could be heard. The waterfall, vaguely
illuminated by moonlight, took on a surreal look and the splashing water set up a sense of
timelessness. The subject of their wives had not come up all evening, but the Thursday
night poker game did.
“Look, we’re having trouble dealing with Thursday night. Why don’t we just play cards.”
“Why not? We have fun doing that, joking around, smoking David’s cigars.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ve always like poker. And we’re together.”
“At least we won’t be lying and feeling guilty all the time.”
“Then poker it is,” said Jorge. “This summer has been a remarkable experience; no
regrets. In the end, it’s interfered with our marriage. None of us are comfortable with
that. Companionship is what’s most important. Has been for me all along.”
“We all think alike, don’t we?” said Jake. He clasped his hands around a knee. “Funny,
we set up a phony poker game and it turns into a real one.”
“We’re just trying to deal with our circumstances,” said Jorge. “Our bodies tell us one
thing, our minds tell us another. Maybe this is the solution.” He glanced across their
faces. “I’m grateful to have you guys to play cards with on Thursday nights.”
Later on, lying on his back beside James, looking up at the stars, David contemplated
the conclusions they had drawn. His knee was up and James’s hand was resting on his
thigh. Beyond the evolving nature of their small fraternity, now that the seed had been
planted, he couldn’t stop thinking about talking to Linda. He envisioned her shock, her
anger—after all he had kept this secret from her for twenty years. He also envisioned her
understanding. He could see the two of them talking about his sexuality, see himself
explaining what it was like and answering her questions. He could see her accepting the
way he is, even his relationship with James; and it felt good to talk to her, to have her
understanding, to be rid of the guilt once and for all. Still, there was uncertainty.
On the morning of the third day, after coffee and cereal, Tim decided to go into the village
for beer. Twenty minutes later James felt an odd wave of concern.
“I should have gone with him. He’s not familiar with this part of the world.”
“Neither are you.”
“Still, he should have had some company.”
At noon James walked out of the pool and went to his backpack to look at his watch. “It’s
almost twelve o’clock,” he announced, the lines across his forehead hinting concern.
“Shouldn’t he be back by now?”
“It’s been about three hours,” Jake said, calculating the time it would take to hike the trail
twice and the drive to and from town. “He’s had time to get back.”
“Give it a while, James,” David suggested. “He might be checking out the village.”
At twelve-thirty James stepped into his jeans. “I’m going in to see what he’s up to.”
“Want me to go with you?” Jorge asked.
“Naw. Just relax. I’m the worrier here.”
Jake went to his backpack for the ignition key and tossed it to James. His sandals
buckled, James stepped into the trail thinking he’d probably meet up with Tim
somewhere on the path before reaching the Land Rover.
Forty minutes later, he stood next to the Rover, staring down the dirt road. No one in
sight. He got behind the wheel and started toward the village.
There were few streets to cover in the village. James soon spotted the other Land Rover
parked beside the only official building there—the constable’s office.
At a loss, he pulled in next to it and got out and looked around. A strange feeling came
over him. Tim wouldn’t have so thoughtlessly stayed gone this long unless something had
happened. There had to be an explanation of some kind. Maybe he was hurt. James’s
concern heightened. He walked around the building to the front door and stepped warily
inside. An uneasy flutter settled in his stomach.
A Mexican deputy looked up when James blocked the light in the door-frame. Somewhat
surprised to see another American, he squinted at James, but he didn’t stand.
“Something I can do for you, Señor.” His English carried a thick Spanish accent.
“I’m looking for the man driving that Land Rover out there.”
The deputy nodded in thought. He seemed intrigued. “He said nothing about a friend.”
James stared at him for a moment. “Then you know where he is?”
The deputy glanced at a heavy wooden door. “Back there, locked up.”
James looked at the door. His presence here suddenly seemed bizarre. Nothing in this
place felt right. Nothing made sense. At first it seemed like a bad joke. Then a confused
reality began to settle over him. He stared at the door as he gathered his thoughts.
Among other emotions, he was suddenly incredulous. For a couple of hours now, he had
been concerned about Tim, only to learn there had been a reason. The deputy’s sullen
demeanor had registered. “Did you say locked up?” It sounded more like an impatient
accusation than a question.
“Si Señor, he’s in jail.”
“Jail!” James glanced around the stark room. His jaw tightened. His breath quickened
with anger. It dawned on him what might be going one here. He was all too familiar with
the corruption in this part of the world. This asshole wants a bribe. They trumped up
some silly charge to extort a little cash. James glared at the deputy. “What’s he in jail
for?”
“Murder, Señor. He killed a man this morning.”
“What!” James gasped. The chilling word stabbed into his ears like an ice pick. He
stood dumbstruck, trying to grasp the reality of what he had just heard. As his mind raced
for reason, he remembered he was in a foreign country, which increased the severity of
the accusation. Something much like panic expanded his chest. Grappling for words, he
glared at the deputy and said on an angry breath: “You can’t be serious!”
“Murder is very serious here.”
“You must have someone else back there. My friend is no murderer.”
“Your friend drive that white jeep out there; tall, blond hair?”
James stopped short of exploding. It was as if he had somehow taken a detour into an
instant nightmare. His hands felt tight and were trembling. His eyes darted about the
room as this impossible reality settled over him. He felt suddenly small in a strange world
that threatened to consume him. What do you say, what do you do, when the situation is
utterly ridiculous? He needed time to think, to make sense of what was happening, to
figure out what to do; but there wasn’t time because Tim was locked up behind that door.
His heart pounded as he tried to deal with such sudden, debilitating emotion.
Overwhelmed by anger he all but shouted: “I want to see him!”
The deputy’s eyes fell across the large bare chest, the worn jeans, the bare feet in a pair
of worn sandals. He looked down at his desk and scratched his head, lifting his hat
slightly in the process.
“I’m his friend and his lawyer,” James said quickly, impatiently.
“His lawyer?” the deputy said doubtfully.
“Goddamn you!” James roared.
“Watch it, Señor. You go to jail, too!”
James rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Look, I’m sorry. I am his lawyer. We came
down here on vacation together.”
The deputy thought about this for a moment. He came reluctantly to his feet, picked up a
key ring and turned toward the door. James followed him in and his eyes widened at the
horror of seeing a forlorn young man sitting on a metal bed behind a wall of bars. Tim
looked up, worried, confused. The deputy turned the key and swung open the heavy
door. James rushed in and knelt in front of his friend. He ran his hand over damp blond
hair, angered further by the sight of a swollen black eye. His head swung violently toward
the deputy.
“You hurt him!” he shouted.
“He resisted arrest, Señor.”
James looked back at Tim as the deputy turned to go back into the front room. He didn’t
know what to say.
“They think I killed someone,” Tim said, weak with helplessness, humiliated.
James was still in shock. His emotions were a confusion of anger and fear. That Tim
was in jail was overwhelming, but for murder? Everything about these circumstances
screamed with incredulity; but Tim’s tears and the swollen eye made it all very real. “Tim,
how ... how could they possibly think that? It makes no sense. What did they tell you?”
Tim’s voice sounded hollow with fear. “They brought in an old lady who said she saw the
murder. She identified me. Said I did it. James, it happened early. I was still in camp
with you guys. I tried to tell them I wasn’t here.”
“Listen,” James said, his tone urgent and stressed. “Listen to me. We’ll get this
straightened out. You won’t be in here long. We’ll get you out and then we’ll get the hell
out of Mexico.” James looked down at the floor in thought, then back up. “What did you
tell them?”
“I didn’t know what to tell them. I haven’t said anything.”
“Did they say what time it happened?”
Tim’s hands trembled as he spoke. “Around eight o’clock.” He swallowed with difficultly,
as if a stone had caught in his throat. James stoked his damp hair, sickened by his
pleading wet eyes. “I can’t imagine anyone around here who might look like me.”
“Did they say where it happened?”
“Behind a building down the street.”
“This is fucking incredible!” James blurted, alarming Tim. He wanted to fly into a rage,
tear the place apart, pound anyone who would accuse Tim of something so outrageous.
He took a hold of Tim’s arms and lowered his head, realizing his rage had gotten the
better of him. He forced himself to control a violent reaction that would serve only to
make matters worse. He paused to allow his lawyer’s instincts to contain the anger.
There was no choice but to set aside his emotions and deal with this with a practical
mind.”
“James, I’m scared. I just want to get out of here and go home.”
“Listen Tim. We have to stay as calm as possible. I don’t want you to worry. We’ll get
you out. You won’t be here much longer.”
Tim wiped away a tear and nodded.
“Try to stay calm. I’m going back out there and try to reason with that deputy. Find out
what’s going on. I’ll come back in after I talk to him. If he won’t let me back in, I’ll go back
out and inform the others.” James placed his hand on the side of Tim’s face, adding:
“But most important, don’t let this get to you. You’re getting out of here. You’re getting
out one way or another.”
Tim nodded again.
James drew a deep breath to steady his nerve and draw down his anger. He pulled Tim
into a lengthy embrace and then got to his feet and started toward the front room.
The deputy looked up as James approached his desk.
“He couldn’t have killed that man,” said James, his nostrils flaring with suppressed
anger. “He was with me at the time of the murder.”
“Oh Señor. The noble act of a good friend.” He shook his head and added: “We have an
eye-witness.”
“That’s impossible. He was with me at eight o’clock. The eye-witness was mistaken.”
“Por favor, Señor. Let’s not waste our time.”
“Okay...” James took a roll of bills out of his pocket and counted it and tossed it on the
desk. “Bail. Two thousand dollars. Let him out until the trial starts.”
The deputy’s eyes dwelled on the cash for a moment before lifting. “Bail, Señor? Trial?
Not in this case. No bail. The trial will not be here either. He’ll be moved to another jail
as soon as it’s decided which one.”
James labored for a more convincing argument. Lacking any real knowledge of criminal
law, his emotions were working against him. All he could think to try was a bribe. “That’s
two thousand dollars. You take it. It’s yours. All you have to do is let him walk out of here
with me.”
“A bribe, Señor?”
“Call it what you want.”
“I see. Mi amigo, I don’t think I can accommodate you. This is such a small amount. You
see, the murdered man was the son of a prominent family. They would not sit quietly for
such a thing.” He glanced at the money. “They want your friend to spend the rest of his
life in jail.”
The severity of Tim’s plight was taking a firmer grip. James’s chest filled with dread. In
desperation, he said: “There’s more money, much more.”
“This is murder, Senor. What amount would be enough? You have to talk to the
constable about such things.”
James stared at him, nearly frozen with anger. Apparently a bribe would work. It was a
question of how much. Before saying something he might regret, he decided to talk to
the others first. Plus that would give him time to calm down. He grabbed the cash off the
desk and counted out five hundred dollars and threw it back down. “Put that in your
pocket. Make sure he gets plenty to eat and doesn’t get beat-up again.” James glanced
at the heavy wooden door. “I want to see him again before I go.”
“Señor, I risked one time already. Now I have to get the constable’s approval.”
“I’m his lawyer I told you! I just gave you five hundred dollars!”
“The constable’s approval first.”
James turned and stormed out the front door. The tires on the Land Rover were spinning
out of the village in a matter of seconds. His stomach churned all the way to the dead-
end. He rushed through the trail and nearly collapsed when he entered the clearing,
sweating, panting from the mad run through the brush.
His solemn expression caused instant concern. James dropped to his knees, breathing
hard while the others quickly gathered around him.
David felt a rush of trepidation. “What is it, James? Where’s Tim?”
“He’s in jail ... for murder.”
Jaws fell open in disbelief.
“He’s what?” said David.
“They arrested him for murder!” James swallowed hard and added: “We have to get him
out! They hit him!” He looked at the ground in turmoil, muttering: “We have to get him
out.”
David’s eyes fell away. He stared absently in thought. A brief silence fell over them, a
disbelieving loss for words.
Jorge knelt next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. “James, you’re distraught. We
need to hear what happened clearly.”
James looked at Jorge, his eyes glazed with anger. He drew a breath to calm himself.
“They arrested him for murder. Claim to have an eyewitness. It looks like a set-up of
some kind. They’re taking advantage of an opportunity. The murder happened this
morning before Tim left camp. There can’t be anyone around here who looks enough like
Tim to confuse a witness. It’s all fucking ridiculous and Tim’s scared shitless. We have
to get him out!”
Jorge squeezed James’s shoulder. “Of course we’ll get him out. Let’s just stay calm for
a moment.” Jorge looked at the others, contemplating the preposterous nature of these
circumstances. Then he looked back at James. “They told you they have an eye-
witness?”
“Yes. An old lady.”
Jorge rubbed his mouth. “Sounds like extortion. They’re looking for a bribe.”
“I already offered one. Two thousand dollars. He refused. The victim’s supposedly from
a prominent family. They want us to be desperate so we’ll be willing to pay more.”
Jorge considered the possibilities. If there were drugs in the area, this could be some
sort of a drug related murder, a crime in need of a scapegoat. Tim would have been
convenient. James was right, the so-called witness couldn’t have been confused—there
weren’t many tall thin blonds running around in this part of the world. It seemed more
likely they were setting the stage to negotiate a bigger bribe.
“The nearest American Council is probably in Cancun,” Jake said.
James had already ruled out the American Council based on the stories that continually
trickled from the foreign legal department at his firm. Not only did this case seem
predetermined, he knew the pitfalls in dealing with foreign governments and law. The
American Council was all but useless up against the Mexican government, or at best a
bogged down labored affair. They were dealing with corruption. If they didn’t cooperate,
the corrupt officials would simply seal Tim’s fate. And if they transferred Tim to another
jail, it would most likely be far more difficult to get him out.
“What can the American Council do? Inform us of what few rights we have? Maybe
make an official protest if they believe an injustice has occurred? We don’t have time for
that. They’ve already declared he’s guilty. They’re planning to move him to another jail.
Sounded like that might happen in a matter of days. We don’t have much time!”
Jorge listened quietly, interpreting the panic in James’s voice as a picture stacked up
against Tim.
“What about a local lawyer?” David asked.
“No time for that I’m telling you!”
Jorge remained calm. “No indication how much it’ll take?”
James shook his head. “The deputy doesn’t have the authority to name a price. All he
did was assure me Tim would spend the rest of his life in jail.” James closed his eyes.
“God! I couldn’t stand seeing him in there. It ripped my heart out.” He opened his eyes
and glanced across three concerned faces. “We have to get him out of there.”
Jorge shifted his weight and sat on the ground in thought. The predicament had formed
clearly in his mind. He felt confident they were after a bribe. It was a question of how
much. He could go into Cancun and have his secretary wire the money. If it wasn’t a
bribe they were after, if this was a drug related crime and Tim was a convenient
scapegoat, the solution might take a different tact. They wouldn’t be able to take
chances with legal maneuvers. They would have to take matters into their own hands.
They would have to break Tim out, and to do so would be risky. He hoped it wouldn’t
come down to that. It had been years since his involvement in such adventures, years
since his instincts were honed to carry out such risks.
“I wanna see him,” David said resolutely.
“You will,” said Jorge. “I think we should break camp, then go in and get a room at that
hotel. A showing of solidarity behind Tim couldn’t hurt.” He looked at his companions
one by one before he continued. A far more serious expression had displaced his usual
carefree demeanor.
“We can assume the local officials are corrupt and are using Tim for some reason. I think
we can pay them off. But if this is drug related, Tim could be in real danger. We have to
be prepared to deal with that. The murder victim, supposedly the son of a prominent
family, might have been involved and got himself killed. Tim could very well be a
scapegoat for the real murderer. If an old woman claims he did it, they probably paid her
or threatened her if she wouldn't cooperate. Either way, we won’t know until we talk to the
constable; and if you guys don’t mind, I’d like to handle that.” Jorge paused and studied
the intent faces of the three men listening.
He continued. “This trip hasn’t turned out like we thought, has it?” He looked at James.
“Did you tell them you’re a lawyer?”
“Yeah. But I know almost nothing about criminal or international law.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can bluff your way through with legal nuance. They’ll feel more
obligated to cooperate with you. Where’s the jail in relation to the rest of the village?”
“Across the street from the hotel.”
“Good. That’ll make it easier to keep an eye on what’s going on. They’ll be less likely to
hurt him again if they know we’re just across the street. And Tim needs all the moral
support he can get. Knowing we’re close by will help.”
Deflated by this turn-of-events, they felt resentful and somber. Breaking camp was
thankless task with an endless run of nightmarish scenarios parading through their
minds. Nothing could be certain until Tim was released and they were on the plane back
home.
They remained silent as they made their way along the trail, the gnats and humidity more
irritating than going in. David was thinking about Linda. He missed her. Everything they
had talked about during the last couple of days haunted him, in part because he wanted
to talk to her about his sexuality, to be rid of the secrets and the guilt and to be loved for
the man he really is. Now, for the first time since they began talking about it, the full
impact of a confession was taking form in his mind.
She would be shocked, of course. It would take time. But eventually she would come to
understand. He knew her that well. She would recognize the fact that some men are
born this way; that in spite of their desire to be married, to have and be loved by a wife,
these men also needed male companionship, intimate and otherwise. She would realize
it had no negative influence on their marriage, or his love for her, or his desire to grow old
with her. Given time, she would realize his relationship with James was harmless.
Or would she?
Coupled with what they faced with Tim, the prospect of facing his wife with such a
confession made for a gloomy vacation. He looked at Jake and Jorge walking ahead of
him, pushing aside leafy vines and stepping over fallen limbs. He heard James’s footfall
behind and the sound of the chortling river, which glimmered through the foliage from time
to time. Why had the opportunity for such a wonderful vacation been lost? Why couldn’t
they have gotten away for a few days and have simply enjoyed being men?
They reached the end of the trail and loaded their gear in the back of the Rover. Jorge
drove. James had not said a word in over an hour. Jake had been quiet, too. Jorge
seemed focused on the task at hand.
“Unbelievable,” said David as he watched the tropical scenery pass by. The rutted road
tossed them in unison from side-to-side. “No wonder so many Mexicans come to the
United States.”
Jorge glanced over his shoulder. “The girls will be home from New York tomorrow.
They'll be expecting to hear from us.”
“Could be a problem,” said Jake. “Our cell phones don’t work here. I doubt there’s a
phone at the hotel.”
“There’s one in the constable’s office, not that it’ll do us any good.”
“If we can’t call out from the village, I’ll call them when I go into Cancun for the money. Just
to let them know we’re okay. I think they should know Tim is in jail. That way they’ll
understand why if we have to stay here longer than planned.”
From the passenger side, Jake looked over at Jorge. “Are you worried?”
Jorge shrugged. “There’s always the unforeseen. This seems fairly straightforward,
though. A simple extortion attempt. They’re betting Tim has relatives who will do
anything to come up with the money. We’ll just make it easier for them. We’ll pay them
off get the hell out of here as soon as possible.”
David was looking at the back of Jorge’s head. He seemed a little too controlled, like a
man who could face anything, confident, aggressive when necessary, never ruffled under
pressure. He wondered why Jorge so rarely talked about Vietnam, and seemed reluctant
when he did. He wondered what he had been involved in over there. David assumed his
raw courage and cool-headedness had taken root as a Navy Seal in that God forsaken
war.
“This is too much,” David finally said.
“Waiting it out is the problem. Not knowing.”
“I can’t imagine what he’s going through. He’s too sensitive to deal with something like
this.”
The reality of Tim’s situation had taken hold of David. “What if something goes wrong?
What if they won’t take a bribe? They might think he actually killed someone.”
James felt anger more than anything else. “They’ll take a bribe,” he assured them, “even
if they think Tim did it. I could see it on the deputy’s face. He looked at the money I put
on the desk and I could see the greed in his eyes. It just wasn’t enough.”
“I hate those sons-of-a-bitches. Tim, of all people.” David rubbed his eyes and muttered:
“I’m worried about Linda. This won’t go over well with her. She wanted us to stay in the
states.” He felt empty, like he had ended up on the wrong road with no way of knowing
which way to turn.
jungles of Mexico. The backpacks and sleeping bags had been checked through
security. At nine o’clock, five men filed onto the plane among the other passengers.
They occupied a full row of seats across the width of the cabin, quietly pondering five
days together in a jungle.
Their wives, all but Rosemary, would arrive at DFW later in the day to board a plane for
New York. Shasha’s daughters were to spend the week with their grandmother.
Rosemary, aside from the cost consideration, would have enjoyed going, but she
wouldn't leave her son with anyone for that long, despite Tim’s encouragement. The
others had wanted to arrange for her airfare and a nurse to watch after the boy, but they
had decided against making the offer. They knew Tim would not have accepted it.
The plane was in the air outside of Dallas by nine-thirty.
David sat next to Tim. He looked at him and spoke with a hushed voice: “Did you bring
the KY Jelly?”
Tim smiled. Jake, sitting on the other side of Tim, couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, shit,” said David, “I wouldn’t know if they even sell it in Mexico.”
Sitting across the aisle, Jorge said: “I think we can assume it’s a worldwide product.”
David turned. “You heard me, too?” He glanced at the people around them, wondering if
anyone else had heard.
“I packed it,” Tim assured him, putting the matter to rest.
They settled in with their magazines and their private thoughts. David was staring at the
back of the seat in front of him, contemplating circumstances he couldn’t have imagined
a few months earlier. On the surface he felt the wonderful sense of brotherhood he had
become accustomed to. All of the anxiety was gone. The anxiety brought on by denial,
that is. Then there was that other kind, the kind brought on by guilt. He and the others
had become men their wives didn’t know.
Like pin-pricks on the skin, it was difficult to ignore. Pin-pricks produced by one’s quiet
consciousness, there but not there, but never far from the perceptive mind. Guilt, the
invisible malady—sometimes a blow to the head, sometimes a subtle pricking of the
skin. Yet there was more to it than that, something that had just recently appeared on the
scene, something that he felt each time he saw James staring into space with that certain
look in his eyes, or when Tim missed part of a conversation lost in his own private
thoughts, or when Jorge or Jake fell silent.
Something else haunted them, something beyond giving themselves over to intimacy with
other men, beyond lying to their wives, beyond anything remotely obvious. Something
that promised to not let go, as phantom-like and as powerful as its first cousin guilt. They
had all reconciled their sexuality, but not one of them had reconciled the lives they wanted
to live.
The plane landed in Cancun a couple of hours later. Jake, familiar with procedures, had
made arrangements for two Land Rovers. They passed though customs, strapped on the
backpacks and carried the rest of their gear two blocks to a local car rental agency
where the vehicles awaited. Jorge signed the paperwork while the others placed their
share of the bill on the counter. When Tim saw the amount of each share, he began to
thumb through his wallet. Standing beside him, Jorge lifted his brow as Tim counted out
five twenties, amused by his never-ending vexation with money.
After loading their gear, Jake took the wheel of the first Rover. Jorge and James joined
him. David and Tim followed.
They stopped at a large market. After filling a cart with dried fruit, apples, cereal, trail
mix, powdered orange drink mix and coffee, they hauled the bags back out to the parking
lot. To reduce weight, they had decided to boil water from the river for drinking and
cooking. With the groceries loaded, the small caravan was back on the road. South of
Cancun, they turned off the main highway onto what looked like, except for the tropical
flora, an ordinary rural Texas highway. Fifteen miles distance brought them to the river
and the only road going into the village.
Bouncing over the ruts in the dust behind the first Land Rover, Tim looked at David and
said: “Rosemary felt bad about declining the trip to New York.”
“I wouldn’t give it a second thought. Linda would’ve never left our son that long when he
was four, especially if he had a respiratory problem like Brett.”
“I wanted her to go. She likes the other wives. They make her laugh.”
“Tim, you sure it wasn’t the money?”
“No. If it wasn’t for Brett, she would’ve gone. We have the money for something like that.
She deserves a vacation more than I do.”
“Speaking of money, the Addison project will be finished in another month. Are you
ready to sign on for the next one, that apartment complex in Frisco?”
“I’m ready.”
“Lot of masonry and landscaping on that one. It’s due to start about the time Addison is
finished. Should net you a hundred thousand.”
Tim looked down at his knees, then back at David. “You’ve opened a door for me.
These jobs help more than you know. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”
David was taken aback slightly with Tim’s gratitude and humility. “Well, you got that
Addison project because I had a gut feeling about you. I’m sure you know we wouldn’t be
talking about Frisco if your work in Addison didn’t meet expectations. Fact is your
landscaping ideas are exceptional. That makes it easier to land future projects. I can
even submit higher bids. Plus, if I didn’t have you, I’d be competing with the contractor
who did. So I appreciate your gratitude. Just know you also have mine.”
Tim relaxed against the seatback, watching the jungle foliage close in along side the
narrow road, thinking about how much he enjoyed working with David. Now and again he
caught a glimpse of the river. “I can’t imagine working for another contractor. You were
the first to give me a chance and I like the way you do business. I like seeing that sparkle
in your eyes when you look at what I’ve done.”
“The projects will come. You can just keep socking the money away. When your kids get
a little older, you and Rosemary can take that vacation any time you want.” David thought
of something else he was curious about. “Does Rosemary know about naked
Saturdays?”
“Yeah. When she realized we’re always the last to arrive, she asked me about it.”
“Doesn’t make her feel uncomfortable with us I hope.”
“No. She thinks it’s funny.”
“Good. You watch. I told you before, when she hits forty and the kids are grown, you may
be in for some surprises yourself. I know Linda sure looks at things differently. I like it.”
A dense growth of tropical trees and snarled brush crowded the road around them. They
carefully scanned the thick shades of green and shadows while they talked, as if the eerie
terrain harbored something ominous. The trip already seemed like a real adventure,
bouncing as they were over a rutted road through such primitive surroundings. Watching
the trees for exotic animals and birds as they drove deeper into the mysterious interior of
a foreign country, they rocked along thinking about the contrasts in cultures from one
country to the next.
“Doesn’t look like many tourists come through here,” Tim said.
“Not many. Tell you the truth, I’m glad Jorge’s with us. There’s something comforting
about having an ex-Navy Seal along in a place like this.”
“I’ve never been in Mexico before,” said Tim. “Jake seems comfortable enough coming
down here.”
“It makes you think about your Constitutional rights, now that we’ve left ours on the other
side of the Rio Grande.”
“It’s fascinating how different it is.”
“You mean Mexico?”
“Yeah,” said Tim. “Right next to the States and it might as well be on another planet.”
“I wonder what James is thinking. He appreciates the amenities of a good hotel more
than I do.” He looked at Tim and then moved his hand over and rested it on his leg.
“Well, we may not have our Constitutional rights, but we do have five days in the jungle
together.”
Tim looked down at David’s hand. It struck him as sensuous, a man’s hand resting on his
leg so close to the fly. They rode silently for a mile or two, contemplating five days in this
wilderness.
David shifted his position in the seat. “My ass is still a little sore from Thursday night.
Jorge sure gets enthusiastic.” He glanced at Tim. “Does it hurt when he fucks you?”
“A little. When he first goes in.”
“Would you want to be hung like that?”
“When I was younger, not now. He told me it’s a problem with Michelle. He can’t go all
the way in. Has to be careful every time they make love. I think that’s why he gets carried
away with us.”
“Shit! Makes you horny just thinking about it.” David looked back at the road thinking
about Jorge. “I can’t imagine not being able to make love to Linda with abandon. Guess
it really doesn’t make much sense fantasizing about being a stud.” David squeezed
Tim's leg and moved his hand to the wheel. “I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Tim looked at him.
“James has been hinting about Thursday nights. About me and him having more time
together, alone. I plan to talk to him, either down here or when we get back.” He
hesitated before he continued. “What would you think if we got our own room?”
Tim nodded. “Does it matter what I think?”
“Yeah, it does. I don’t want our friendship to change. Neither does James.”
“Our friendship won’t change,” Tim assured him. “The others know how you and James
feel about each other.” He reached over and ran the back of his fingers across David’s
jaw. “I saw this coming.”
“We’ll all spend plenty of time together, just like we have all summer. Drink some beer,
play cards, you know, be together. Then James and I … well, it would give us a chance to
be alone.”
“Because of the way you two feel about each other, it’s gotten awkward to be with other
men.”
David looked at him, surprised he said this, surprised Tim had perceived something that
he himself was only beginning to understand. He stared at the dust billowing off the first
Rover for a while, then said: “Yeah, I guess it has.”
“I envy you guys. I doubt I’ll ever know what it’s like to have a man love me that much.”
“He slept with his room mate during his last year in college. For five months. Did you
know that?”
Tim looked at him. ”No.”
“I think about it from time to time. …If that had been me, I think we would have ended up
spending the rest of our lives together.”
Tim looked out through the windshield in thought, wondering if David was leaving
something unsaid. “You know, David, I wouldn’t take anything for what we’ve had
together this summer. It’s like something that was broken has healed. But sometimes I
wonder what it would be like to have what you and James have. You know, someone
special. I don’t think it matters to Jake or Jorge. They seem to like things the way they
are.”
David’s hands tightened on the wheel. He felt that nettlesome pricking on his skin. What
he tried to ignore, what he couldn’t pretend didn’t exist, once again was trying to surface.
“I can understand that. What bothers me is we’re living a lie. We’re betraying our wives.
We’re sharing something we can’t share with them.”
He veered to the right to miss a deep rut, then let out a half laugh. “Funny how things
work out in life.” He sighed and took his right hand off the wheel and rested his elbow on
the center armrest. “I’ll talk to James first, then talk to the others when we get back to
Dallas.”
The Land Rovers rolled onto the cobbled streets of the sleepy village a few minutes later.
David pulled in behind when Jake parked along side a curb. Tim and David joined the
others in front of a building that looked like a small café and saloon. The ancient stucco
was light pink, a variation of similar shades on the other buildings around it.
“Thought we’d stop for a beer before going on to the campsite,” said Jake.
“You were right, Jake,” said James. His eyes followed a single strand of wire strung
along the poles leading out of the village. “This place is remote.”
“Some of the villagers seem to have an acute interest in us,” Tim noticed.
They stood on the sidewalk in front of the café, observing the sleepy goings-on and the
dreary buildings around them. Nestled in a timeless calm, far removed from the rest of
the world, the whole village seemed eternally prepared for a nap. It was just as Jake
described—all-out poverty. The few souls out and about defined life in slow motion: a
man across the street, sitting on the sidewalk with his back against the wall, his head
bowed in slumber; two young girls a block away, their dark eyes glued on the five men
and their vehicles; an older couple trudging up an inclined road on their way out of the
village; a young man apparently making repairs atop a building across the street, his
gaze shifting between his work and the sudden appearance of strangers. The doors on
most of the buildings yawed open on ancient hinges, and aging shutters covered most
windows instead of glass. A world far beyond anything imaginable in the States, it stood
motionless in time, mystifying and strangely enchanting. Oblivious to a fast paced world,
no one was rich or poor, and no one concerned themselves with anything beyond their
own daily struggle.
Kerosene lamps lit the dim interior of the café, casting shadows not unlike those a
hundred years before. There were a half dozen tables, one occupied by an old man
sprawled and napping. A short while after the men ordered, the young boy returned with
five bottles of Tecate he had pulled from a tub of ice. There was no electricity in the
building.
Jorge looked at James. “Think your law firm might be interested in locating a branch
office here.”
James laughed. “It’s a good thing Shasha isn’t here. We’d be on our way back to
Cancun by now.”
“I’m going to snap some pictures when we come back through,” said David. “Linda won’t
believe it without seeing it.”
When they finished the beer, the young boy asked for three dollars. He took on an
expression of disbelief when Jake handed him five and told him to keep the change.
They were on the primitive road heading out of town five minutes later.
It ran west adjacent to the river. They passed three boys in tattered underwear playing in
the fast current a half-mile out of town. The road ended in an area that looked like
impregnable jungle, except for a narrow path that continued alongside the river.
They transferred the groceries from the paper sacks into duffel bags. There were three
counting the canvas bag that contained a few cooking utensils. Each man tied a bedroll
to his backpack and strapped it on. Anxious to see the clearing, they started toward the
trees, setting a flock of birds fluttering and cawing warnings of intruders.
Jake led the way, waving his hand in front of his face. “You’ll get used to the gnats.”
One behind the other, they ducked into the trail, shrouded by countless shades of green
and leaves interspersed with sun. The air, motionless and stifling, lay on their forearms
like moist cloth. Perpetually damp and covered with decaying leaves, the ground gave
slightly under their footfall. Vines hung from overhead about their faces. Flies buzzed
incessantly, the only sound other than the birds and the fast-moving stream. They picked
through the shadows, sweating, pushing aside limbs and foliage, watching the ground for
snakes.
David quickly grew weary of the gnats swarming his ears. “I once saw a documentary
about poison frogs. Can’t remember if it was Mexico or not.”
“Further south, David,” said Jorge. “Brazil. They’re found in certain parts of the Amazon.”
“Ah yes, the Amazon,” said James, sardonically, stepping over a rotting limb. “Most likely
our next adventure.”
A few feet ahead, Jake laughed. “We’re different from everyone else. Our vacations
might as well be, too. Instead of swimming with the dolphins—we swim in the Amazon
with the piranhas and poison frogs.”
They were already sweating and sticky half way through. Jake had stopped and was
looking through the foliage toward the river.
Tim came up behind him. “What is it?”
“Thought I heard something.”
Tim squinted through the translucent shades of green and spotted a boy bathing in the
river. “There, a Mexican kid.”
“Yeah, I see him.”
The others caught up. Through the leaves they could see the sun glinting on the river. On
the opposite bank, a boy had taken off his clothes and was in knee deep water with a bar
of soap.
“How old do you think he is?”
“Sixteen, seventeen maybe.”
David spotted him. “About how old I was when I had that little episode with a boy in the
shower.”
James set down the duffle bag to rest his arm. “Damn, he’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. Just too young to appreciate it.”
“All that energy and youth lost on the young.”
“You think about what all you’d do if you could start over at that age,” Jorge said wistfully.
“Like having a buddy as beautiful as that kid over there?”
“Yeah, but at that age I wasn’t savvy enough to know what to do with a boy like him.”
Jake lifted his camera and snapped a couple of pictures. “Be my luck I’ll end up having
to explain these to Sally.”
“Explain what? You took some pictures of a local bathing in the river. What’s the big
deal?”
“Her over-active suspicion.”
“How far are we from the clearing?”
“Should be at least half way there.”
Jake turned and resumed the lead.
They finally heard crashing water ahead. By the time the small clearing came into view,
they were anxious to get the weight off their backs. Letting the straps slide down their
arms, they glanced around and then set their eyes on the waterfall. Dropping perhaps
twenty feet, sun light sparkled like diamonds in the mist. From the top of the cliff, water
cascaded down over uneven rock and sent a fine mist into the air, collecting in a shallow
pool some twenty-five feet across. From there the river resumed its journey to the sea.
Over-grown plants lined the bank on the other side of the pool, behind which rose a wall
of jungle. Shear rock jutting skyward ended the trail. The back of the thirty feet wide
clearing comprised another forbidding wall of brush and trees, which enclosed the rest of
the clearing.
“Wow. I can’t believe you found this place out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah, Jake. It’s perfect.”
Tim dropped his gear and took off his clothes, then stepped across the decaying leaves
and walked out into waist deep water. He knelt and submerged his head, then came
back up throwing off a cascade of water. He looked at his four companions and combed
back his blond hair with his fingers. A smile of satisfaction crossed his lips. They
watched him start toward the fall, sun glistening on his wet shoulders. The water was
shallower here, not quite up to his knees. He tilted his head back and the water flowed
over his face and chest.
Four men glanced at each other and then went about arranging the gear. They were in a
reflective mood, quiet, contemplating the few days ahead that seemed like a blissful
eternity. Weary from the task of getting there, they took off their clothes and sat in the
leaves in various places across the clearing and watched Tim play in the water.
David, sitting behind the others and further away from the pool, surveyed the clearing; a
womb of green, a peaceful kind of quiet accompanied by the sound of splashing water
and monkeys chattering somewhere in the trees.
Jorge was looking at Jake’s belly. “How much weight have you lost, Jake?”
“About thirty pounds.” He looked down, feeling proud, and ran his hand over his flatter
stomach.
“You’re looking good, buddy. Plan to keep it off?”
“That and about ten more.”
David’s eyes settled on Tim. He drew up his legs and wrapped his arms around his
knees. He liked it like this, being with them, looking at them, them looking at him, five
men without self-imposed facades. It was one of the simple pleasures, an escape from
the mundane routines of everyday life. He enjoyed this kind of intimacy with friends, and
five days of just that lie ahead of them. No restraints. No timetables. Five days to
celebrate, not hide their sexuality. Five days to spend with four men, to be himself without
pretense.
Five days to fend off the groping arms of guilt.
Jake cleared the leaves in the middle of the clearing down to the moist dirt. When he
ventured into the undergrowth to look for dry limbs to make a fire, Jorge got to his feet
and waded into the pool. James joined David and sat down beside him.
“I’ve never seen anything like this. Have you?”
“Hardly.”
“A good place to unwind.” James looked down at David’s crossed legs. “Have you tried
your phone?” He reached over and ran his hand up and down David’s inner thigh.
“Not yet.”
“Don’t bother. No signal out here.”
“I talked to Tim. He understands.”
James looked toward the others in thought. “Think Jorge and Jake will?”
“Sure they will. …Tim mentioned something I haven’t thought about.”
James looked at him, curious.
“He’d like to have what we have. He said Jorge and Jake like things the way they are,
but he’d like to have someone special, a boyfriend.”
“Is that what I am, your boyfriend?”
David smiled. “Sounds funny, doesn’t it.”
James nodded. “That’s understandable, about Tim I mean.”
“Yeah, it is. It would change the dynamic, but maybe he should be open to meeting
someone outside of the group. I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to bring someone in.” David
reflected on this for a moment and then added: “We’ll have to see what happens.”
“Jorge and Jake have been spending some time together.”
David looked at him, a little bewildered.
“They joined a gym a couple weeks ago. Been working out together every other
morning. They spent an afternoon together last week.”
“That’s interesting.”
“They mentioned it the other night while we were playing poker. You were in the
bathroom.”
David looked across the clearing at Tim, who was standing beside the fall. “I wonder if
that’s why he brought it up. Maybe he’s beginning to feel like five’s an odd number.”
They sat quietly for a moment, watching the others. Jorge and Jake had joined Tim in the
pool and they were taking turns standing under the water-fall. Things were changing. In
fact, for all five of them, the entire summer seemed to have been a period of change.
They had defined themselves. They had tried to come to terms with their circumstances.
Now it seemed like they were looking for the center.
David glanced down at James’s lap. A dead leaf had stuck to his leg. It felt sensual
sitting together on the ground, the shades of brown, feeling the damp earth on bare skin.
He noticed James’s cock lifting upward. Their eyes met.
James smiled. “Obviously the magic hasn’t faded.”
David reached over and massaged it, felt it grow firmer in his hand. The cock pointed
upward when James leaned back on his elbows. He stroked it and felt it throbbing in his
hand. He leaned over him just as a dribble appeared at the tiny hole, breathing the earthy
smell of a man that had trekked through a humid jungle, and his mouth closed around the
familiar shape. Familiar indeed, the texture, the supple feel of testicles in his hand. He
explored the glans with his tongue and caressed the testicles with his fingers, and he slid
the malleable sheath up and down with his free hand. Then the inevitable, the pulsing,
desperate spurts of white fluid, which filled his mouth and brought on that euphoric sense
of satisfaction, that fulfillment that makes all the risks worthwhile.
James yawned and closed his eyes. His muscles relaxed. David shifted his body and
laid his head on James’s belly. The trying day and this moment of intimacy had made
them sleepy. Listening to the sound of falling water, they both fell asleep.
The sun had dropped into the far western sky by the time they awoke. Long shadows lay
across the clearing. The glassy smooth surface of the pool reflected a deep blue sky that
hinted twilight, accompanied by the constant sound of splashing water. Jake had the fire
going. On a stone next to the small flame sat the coffee pot. He was sitting near the fire
with Jorge and Tim.
Tim poured two cups and handed them to David and James when they joined the circle.
“Nice long nap.”
“Made me feel a little groggy,” said James, reaching for the cup. “This’ll help.” He took a
sip.
David took his cup and folded his legs in front of him. “Man … you really can unwind
here, can’t you?”
Tim got to his feet. “Think I’ll go for one more swim before it gets dark.”
They watched him wade into the water and swim to the other side of the pond.
“He was talking about trying a dive,” Jake said.
“A dive!” David looked at the wall of rock. “From where?”
Jake’s eyes lifted up to the ledge at the top of the fall. “Up there.” He climbed halfway up
while you guys were sleeping.”
David scanned the rock jutting from the wall. Not an easy climb. “But the water’s too
shallow to dive in from up there.”
“It’s deep on the other side of the waterfall. At least twelve feet.”
Tim climbed out of the water at the base of the wall and started the climb, each step up a
test of his agility. David felt anxious, as did the others. They watched, both impressed by
his dexterity and visually seduced by the flex and stretch of lean muscle. As he found one
foothold after another and strained another few inches up the climb, he inadvertently
provided a provocative display of his body, enhanced by the elements of danger and
physical ability.
“I never get tired of looking at him.”
Near the top, Tim crawled up on the ledge. He stood and waved and then looked down
at the water. With his body arched he made the dive, hitting the water some six feet out
away from the wall. A big grin brightened his face when he surfaced.
David realized his heart was beating a little faster than normal. “Thank God. I hope once
was enough to satisfy him.”
It was beginning to get dark. Jake got up, put a few more broken limbs on the fire and
then got out two bags of trail mix and a few bananas. He passed them around and
rejoined the circle. “Tomorrow morning I’ll catch some fish for breakfast.”
A reflective mood had settled over them. David glanced at James now and then, who
was staring at a spot near the fire. He seemed unsettled.
“What are you thinking about?”
James shook his head. “Nothing, really.” Then it came. “You guys ever think about
talking to your wives?” He let out a frustrated breath. “Shasha doesn’t know who I am.
Not being honest with her is getting harder to live with.”
There was no immediate response, only a collective and uncomfortable introspection.
Tim got out of the water and picked up a towel. He approached and glanced at the
somber faces. “We lose someone’s grandmother?”
“I thought it would ease up down here,” David mumbled. “It’s worse. We’re hidden away
in a jungle and I’m still looking over my shoulder.”
“It bothers all of us,” said Jake.
“Dammit. Linda helped me pack. She was excited I had a chance to come down here
with you guys. A thousand miles from home and it just gets worse.”
Jorge reached for his shorts, pushed his hand into the pocket and took out a new Swiss
army knife. “Michelle gave me this at the airport. Said she was happy I finally found
some friends I enjoy spending time with.”
“It follows you around with its hands around your neck.”
Tim tossed the towel aside and sat down in the leaves. “What are you guys talking
about?”
“We’re being watched from the shadows,” said Jake.
Tim glanced into the trees and grinned. “Cannibals?”
“The women we’re married to.”
Tim looked into the trees again. “Is Rosemary with them?”
“Can’t you tell?” James asked.
“I knew she was on the plane. Guess I’m not surprised they found us here.” He reached
for his backpack and dug out an apple.
Jorge spoke: “I think about it all the time. But how do we tell them? We’ve created an
image. They believe they know everything about us. We’ve built foundations based on
trust. Telling them would change that.”
“Why?” asked David. “Why does it have to change anything?” His guilt had lapsed into
angry helplessness. “We’re human. They know we love them. Why can’t we talk to them
about it? It would have to be better than feeling guilty all the time.”
“Look,” said Tim, “we’ve had all summer together. We don’t always have to have sex.
Let’s cool things down and just be camping buddies.”
“Good idea,” said James emphatically and with a hint of relief. “I can’t stand feeling guilty
all the time. If something happens, it happens.”
Within the hour they had arranged their bedrolls on the ground around the fire. Tim was
reading a novel by the firelight. Jorge, his fingers clasped behind his head, was gazing
into the night sky. Jake was sitting on his bedroll carving on a piece of wood. David had
taken a position on a large rock close to the fall. James walked over and joined him.
Above the shadowy canopy thousands of stars filled the clear black sky. Moonlight
glinted on the pool’s glassy surface and sparkled in the falling water. The sound of jungle
night creatures merged with the sound of splashing water, which muted their voices.
“It was too much,” said James.
David looked at him. “I guess that was predictable.”
“I love those guys. I’ve never had such close friends. But all of us going to bed together,
it’s too much. There’s something unsettling being that casual.”
“We’d still feel guilty even if it was just you and me.”
“Probably, but that’s different. Somehow it seems easier to justify. The rest of it feels too
much like simple lust.”
David pondered this for a moment. Subconsciously he had drawn the same conclusion—
it really was too much. “We have to bow out.” He pulled his foot up on the rock and
wrapped his hands around his knee. “We’ll talk to the others tomorrow.”
“I think we all see it the same way.”
“Yeah. We’re evolving.”
“I know I am.”
David looked down at the rocky surface between his legs.
“You might as well know,” James went on, “if I didn’t have Shasha, I’d want you.”
David looked at him, slightly alarmed. “That’s dangerous territory, James.” The
statement made him nervous, a Pandora ’s Box, a subject he could not allow himself to
contemplate.
“I can see us living together, sleeping together every night, getting up in the morning,
making breakfast. I can see us watching a movie before we go to bed. ...You see it, too,
don’t you?”
“We made our choice a long time ago.”
“But you can see it.”
David stared at him a moment longer. “Yes.” He leaned back and braced his weight with
his hands, then closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “James ... we can’t talk about
things like that. In another lifetime maybe. I love my wife. So do you. You have three
daughters at home.”
“I know. I had to say it. I had to tell you how I feel.”
David thought about all the years they had known each other. He smiled. “Ever think
about what would have happened if I had been your roommate in college?”
“I know what would’ve happened. Our whole lives would be different.”
“That occurred to me, too.” David shook his head with a hint of frustration. “Everything’s
fine the way it is now. We’ll get our own room on Thursday nights. There’s nothing to
regret.”
“I just needed to say it. I know there’s nothing to regret. You know how I feel about
Shasha and my girls.”
“Yeah, I do, which means there’s no next level for us.”
After a nearly sleepless night, David awoke with James up close to his back, a leg
between his, an arm draped over his ribs. The intimacy on their first night sleeping
together had been subtle, but there: a lingering kiss, a breath on the neck, fingers
caressing and exploring. Body heat coupled with the warm morning air made David feel
sweaty. He stirred and James shifted when he sat up.
Jorge was sitting next to the pool, Tim beside him, their legs in the water. A few yards
downstream, Jake was fishing. James’s eyes had opened. He was lying on his back.
David leaned over and kissed him, an unhurried expression of affection, the kind of
affection that bound them in a way that words can’t.
“Now I know,” said James, looking into his eyes.
David cocked his head. “What?”
“That I like sleeping with you.”
David smiled. “You had a positive attitude going in.”
They heard Tim’s voice. “Fish for breakfast. He’s caught three already. They look a little
like trout. Jake says they’re delicious.”
David got to his feet and let out a groan with a morning stretch. “Good,” he said. “That
trail-mix didn’t go very far last night.”
By the time Jake had five fish on the stringer the others had built up the fire and circled it
with stones. While Jake cleaned the fish they fashioned fork-shaped spits out of green
branches that would hold the fish over the fire. Broiling over the open flame, the
seasoned fillets made their mouths water. They ate the fish off light-weight tin plates.
“Umm. Really good.”
“This is great. Breakfast in the open air. All of us together.”
“Might not be easy to go back to wearing clothes after five days down here.”
“It feels good, doesn’t it? Fresh air on your skin. No carbon monoxide.”
Jorge wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “That conversation we had last night
made me feel a little uneasy.”
“Be nice, though, if our wives knew. If they accepted our sexuality.”
“Sally would never accept it. She has a temper. I’d damn sure see the worst of it with
something like this.”
“She loves you, Jake,” James pointed out. “She knows you love her. Don’t you think
she'd come around in time? I think she would. I think they all would.”
David thought James might be trying to convince himself as well as the others. He felt
uncomfortable seeing him so unsettled. “We’re all tired of living secret lives. It wears on
us. We see it in each other when we’re together.”
Clearly frustrated, Jorge doubted their wives’ forbearance. David wondered whether he
wished he could talk openly to his wife or if this conversation was making him paranoid.
“It’s too unpredictable,” he said. “They wouldn’t see it the same way we do. Doesn’t
matter if it seems natural to us. Michelle would see it as infidelity.”
“What would they think of us as men?” asked Jake. “They want masculine husbands.
What if they think bisexual men are sissy boys?”
“Think about it,” said Jorge. “Your wife would know you’ve been getting fucked in the ass.”
“Isn’t that the point?” asked David. “Maybe they should know? If we could get them to
understand and accept it, all these complications would disappear. Our marriages would
be based on honesty and trust.”
“We’d still be the men they know and love,” said Tim. “They might surprise us.”
James was staring at his half eaten fish. “All I know is I feel alienated from my own wife,
and she doesn’t have a clue. I have to keep up a façade every time I’m around her. It’s
getting harder to do.”
“My biggest worry,” said Tim, “is it would come between us. I can’t stand the thought of
that, even though I would love to talk to her about it. It’d be a hard decision to make.” He
raked the fish bones into the fire and went to the edge of the pool to rinse off the plate.
“How would Shasha take it?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know. She’s open-minded, but this is something she’d never expect. It’s hard to
say.”
“You’d be asking her to share her husband with someone else,” said Jorge. “Not many
wives are agreeable to that.”
James looked down at the campfire, troubled.
“Let’s talk about something else,” David suggested. “This topic doesn’t sit well with
breakfast.”
They spent the day snorkeling in the pool, wrestling playfully and sitting in the rapids down
river. Jorge and Jake explored a section of the surrounding jungle and collected
firewood. Tim made three more dives from the high cliff, small adventures that made the
others nervous, though his ungainly climb held them in fascination.
By mid-afternoon they heard voices downstream and had just enough time to slip on their
shorts before a small group of teenagers walked into the clearing. Six all together, three
boys and three girls, all surprised to see that five Americanos had found their swimming
hole. They were obviously wary, but quickly charmed by Jorge’s diplomacy in Spanish.
Within minutes they were stripping down to their underwear and splashing in the pool,
while five men found a place to sit and look on from the clearing.
“They’re from the village,” said Jorge.
“I’m trying to remember if I had that much fun when I was their age,” said David. “I think
about my son and all the things he’s missing. He’s like me when I was that age. Too
practical. Takes everything too seriously.”
“Look how carefree they are. You don’t realize how quickly time passes when you’re their
age.”
“That skinny kid’s having trouble keeping his wet underwear up. He keeps pulling it up.”
“He probably wouldn’t be wearing it if we weren’t here.”
By nightfall they were sitting around the fire. Beyond the soft yellow glow on their faces,
the small flicker of light faded into the darkness. The birds had gone quiet. From
somewhere in the distance a screaming monkey could be heard. The waterfall, vaguely
illuminated by moonlight, took on a surreal look and the splashing water set up a sense of
timelessness. The subject of their wives had not come up all evening, but the Thursday
night poker game did.
“Look, we’re having trouble dealing with Thursday night. Why don’t we just play cards.”
“Why not? We have fun doing that, joking around, smoking David’s cigars.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ve always like poker. And we’re together.”
“At least we won’t be lying and feeling guilty all the time.”
“Then poker it is,” said Jorge. “This summer has been a remarkable experience; no
regrets. In the end, it’s interfered with our marriage. None of us are comfortable with
that. Companionship is what’s most important. Has been for me all along.”
“We all think alike, don’t we?” said Jake. He clasped his hands around a knee. “Funny,
we set up a phony poker game and it turns into a real one.”
“We’re just trying to deal with our circumstances,” said Jorge. “Our bodies tell us one
thing, our minds tell us another. Maybe this is the solution.” He glanced across their
faces. “I’m grateful to have you guys to play cards with on Thursday nights.”
Later on, lying on his back beside James, looking up at the stars, David contemplated
the conclusions they had drawn. His knee was up and James’s hand was resting on his
thigh. Beyond the evolving nature of their small fraternity, now that the seed had been
planted, he couldn’t stop thinking about talking to Linda. He envisioned her shock, her
anger—after all he had kept this secret from her for twenty years. He also envisioned her
understanding. He could see the two of them talking about his sexuality, see himself
explaining what it was like and answering her questions. He could see her accepting the
way he is, even his relationship with James; and it felt good to talk to her, to have her
understanding, to be rid of the guilt once and for all. Still, there was uncertainty.
On the morning of the third day, after coffee and cereal, Tim decided to go into the village
for beer. Twenty minutes later James felt an odd wave of concern.
“I should have gone with him. He’s not familiar with this part of the world.”
“Neither are you.”
“Still, he should have had some company.”
At noon James walked out of the pool and went to his backpack to look at his watch. “It’s
almost twelve o’clock,” he announced, the lines across his forehead hinting concern.
“Shouldn’t he be back by now?”
“It’s been about three hours,” Jake said, calculating the time it would take to hike the trail
twice and the drive to and from town. “He’s had time to get back.”
“Give it a while, James,” David suggested. “He might be checking out the village.”
At twelve-thirty James stepped into his jeans. “I’m going in to see what he’s up to.”
“Want me to go with you?” Jorge asked.
“Naw. Just relax. I’m the worrier here.”
Jake went to his backpack for the ignition key and tossed it to James. His sandals
buckled, James stepped into the trail thinking he’d probably meet up with Tim
somewhere on the path before reaching the Land Rover.
Forty minutes later, he stood next to the Rover, staring down the dirt road. No one in
sight. He got behind the wheel and started toward the village.
There were few streets to cover in the village. James soon spotted the other Land Rover
parked beside the only official building there—the constable’s office.
At a loss, he pulled in next to it and got out and looked around. A strange feeling came
over him. Tim wouldn’t have so thoughtlessly stayed gone this long unless something had
happened. There had to be an explanation of some kind. Maybe he was hurt. James’s
concern heightened. He walked around the building to the front door and stepped warily
inside. An uneasy flutter settled in his stomach.
A Mexican deputy looked up when James blocked the light in the door-frame. Somewhat
surprised to see another American, he squinted at James, but he didn’t stand.
“Something I can do for you, Señor.” His English carried a thick Spanish accent.
“I’m looking for the man driving that Land Rover out there.”
The deputy nodded in thought. He seemed intrigued. “He said nothing about a friend.”
James stared at him for a moment. “Then you know where he is?”
The deputy glanced at a heavy wooden door. “Back there, locked up.”
James looked at the door. His presence here suddenly seemed bizarre. Nothing in this
place felt right. Nothing made sense. At first it seemed like a bad joke. Then a confused
reality began to settle over him. He stared at the door as he gathered his thoughts.
Among other emotions, he was suddenly incredulous. For a couple of hours now, he had
been concerned about Tim, only to learn there had been a reason. The deputy’s sullen
demeanor had registered. “Did you say locked up?” It sounded more like an impatient
accusation than a question.
“Si Señor, he’s in jail.”
“Jail!” James glanced around the stark room. His jaw tightened. His breath quickened
with anger. It dawned on him what might be going one here. He was all too familiar with
the corruption in this part of the world. This asshole wants a bribe. They trumped up
some silly charge to extort a little cash. James glared at the deputy. “What’s he in jail
for?”
“Murder, Señor. He killed a man this morning.”
“What!” James gasped. The chilling word stabbed into his ears like an ice pick. He
stood dumbstruck, trying to grasp the reality of what he had just heard. As his mind raced
for reason, he remembered he was in a foreign country, which increased the severity of
the accusation. Something much like panic expanded his chest. Grappling for words, he
glared at the deputy and said on an angry breath: “You can’t be serious!”
“Murder is very serious here.”
“You must have someone else back there. My friend is no murderer.”
“Your friend drive that white jeep out there; tall, blond hair?”
James stopped short of exploding. It was as if he had somehow taken a detour into an
instant nightmare. His hands felt tight and were trembling. His eyes darted about the
room as this impossible reality settled over him. He felt suddenly small in a strange world
that threatened to consume him. What do you say, what do you do, when the situation is
utterly ridiculous? He needed time to think, to make sense of what was happening, to
figure out what to do; but there wasn’t time because Tim was locked up behind that door.
His heart pounded as he tried to deal with such sudden, debilitating emotion.
Overwhelmed by anger he all but shouted: “I want to see him!”
The deputy’s eyes fell across the large bare chest, the worn jeans, the bare feet in a pair
of worn sandals. He looked down at his desk and scratched his head, lifting his hat
slightly in the process.
“I’m his friend and his lawyer,” James said quickly, impatiently.
“His lawyer?” the deputy said doubtfully.
“Goddamn you!” James roared.
“Watch it, Señor. You go to jail, too!”
James rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Look, I’m sorry. I am his lawyer. We came
down here on vacation together.”
The deputy thought about this for a moment. He came reluctantly to his feet, picked up a
key ring and turned toward the door. James followed him in and his eyes widened at the
horror of seeing a forlorn young man sitting on a metal bed behind a wall of bars. Tim
looked up, worried, confused. The deputy turned the key and swung open the heavy
door. James rushed in and knelt in front of his friend. He ran his hand over damp blond
hair, angered further by the sight of a swollen black eye. His head swung violently toward
the deputy.
“You hurt him!” he shouted.
“He resisted arrest, Señor.”
James looked back at Tim as the deputy turned to go back into the front room. He didn’t
know what to say.
“They think I killed someone,” Tim said, weak with helplessness, humiliated.
James was still in shock. His emotions were a confusion of anger and fear. That Tim
was in jail was overwhelming, but for murder? Everything about these circumstances
screamed with incredulity; but Tim’s tears and the swollen eye made it all very real. “Tim,
how ... how could they possibly think that? It makes no sense. What did they tell you?”
Tim’s voice sounded hollow with fear. “They brought in an old lady who said she saw the
murder. She identified me. Said I did it. James, it happened early. I was still in camp
with you guys. I tried to tell them I wasn’t here.”
“Listen,” James said, his tone urgent and stressed. “Listen to me. We’ll get this
straightened out. You won’t be in here long. We’ll get you out and then we’ll get the hell
out of Mexico.” James looked down at the floor in thought, then back up. “What did you
tell them?”
“I didn’t know what to tell them. I haven’t said anything.”
“Did they say what time it happened?”
Tim’s hands trembled as he spoke. “Around eight o’clock.” He swallowed with difficultly,
as if a stone had caught in his throat. James stoked his damp hair, sickened by his
pleading wet eyes. “I can’t imagine anyone around here who might look like me.”
“Did they say where it happened?”
“Behind a building down the street.”
“This is fucking incredible!” James blurted, alarming Tim. He wanted to fly into a rage,
tear the place apart, pound anyone who would accuse Tim of something so outrageous.
He took a hold of Tim’s arms and lowered his head, realizing his rage had gotten the
better of him. He forced himself to control a violent reaction that would serve only to
make matters worse. He paused to allow his lawyer’s instincts to contain the anger.
There was no choice but to set aside his emotions and deal with this with a practical
mind.”
“James, I’m scared. I just want to get out of here and go home.”
“Listen Tim. We have to stay as calm as possible. I don’t want you to worry. We’ll get
you out. You won’t be here much longer.”
Tim wiped away a tear and nodded.
“Try to stay calm. I’m going back out there and try to reason with that deputy. Find out
what’s going on. I’ll come back in after I talk to him. If he won’t let me back in, I’ll go back
out and inform the others.” James placed his hand on the side of Tim’s face, adding:
“But most important, don’t let this get to you. You’re getting out of here. You’re getting
out one way or another.”
Tim nodded again.
James drew a deep breath to steady his nerve and draw down his anger. He pulled Tim
into a lengthy embrace and then got to his feet and started toward the front room.
The deputy looked up as James approached his desk.
“He couldn’t have killed that man,” said James, his nostrils flaring with suppressed
anger. “He was with me at the time of the murder.”
“Oh Señor. The noble act of a good friend.” He shook his head and added: “We have an
eye-witness.”
“That’s impossible. He was with me at eight o’clock. The eye-witness was mistaken.”
“Por favor, Señor. Let’s not waste our time.”
“Okay...” James took a roll of bills out of his pocket and counted it and tossed it on the
desk. “Bail. Two thousand dollars. Let him out until the trial starts.”
The deputy’s eyes dwelled on the cash for a moment before lifting. “Bail, Señor? Trial?
Not in this case. No bail. The trial will not be here either. He’ll be moved to another jail
as soon as it’s decided which one.”
James labored for a more convincing argument. Lacking any real knowledge of criminal
law, his emotions were working against him. All he could think to try was a bribe. “That’s
two thousand dollars. You take it. It’s yours. All you have to do is let him walk out of here
with me.”
“A bribe, Señor?”
“Call it what you want.”
“I see. Mi amigo, I don’t think I can accommodate you. This is such a small amount. You
see, the murdered man was the son of a prominent family. They would not sit quietly for
such a thing.” He glanced at the money. “They want your friend to spend the rest of his
life in jail.”
The severity of Tim’s plight was taking a firmer grip. James’s chest filled with dread. In
desperation, he said: “There’s more money, much more.”
“This is murder, Senor. What amount would be enough? You have to talk to the
constable about such things.”
James stared at him, nearly frozen with anger. Apparently a bribe would work. It was a
question of how much. Before saying something he might regret, he decided to talk to
the others first. Plus that would give him time to calm down. He grabbed the cash off the
desk and counted out five hundred dollars and threw it back down. “Put that in your
pocket. Make sure he gets plenty to eat and doesn’t get beat-up again.” James glanced
at the heavy wooden door. “I want to see him again before I go.”
“Señor, I risked one time already. Now I have to get the constable’s approval.”
“I’m his lawyer I told you! I just gave you five hundred dollars!”
“The constable’s approval first.”
James turned and stormed out the front door. The tires on the Land Rover were spinning
out of the village in a matter of seconds. His stomach churned all the way to the dead-
end. He rushed through the trail and nearly collapsed when he entered the clearing,
sweating, panting from the mad run through the brush.
His solemn expression caused instant concern. James dropped to his knees, breathing
hard while the others quickly gathered around him.
David felt a rush of trepidation. “What is it, James? Where’s Tim?”
“He’s in jail ... for murder.”
Jaws fell open in disbelief.
“He’s what?” said David.
“They arrested him for murder!” James swallowed hard and added: “We have to get him
out! They hit him!” He looked at the ground in turmoil, muttering: “We have to get him
out.”
David’s eyes fell away. He stared absently in thought. A brief silence fell over them, a
disbelieving loss for words.
Jorge knelt next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. “James, you’re distraught. We
need to hear what happened clearly.”
James looked at Jorge, his eyes glazed with anger. He drew a breath to calm himself.
“They arrested him for murder. Claim to have an eyewitness. It looks like a set-up of
some kind. They’re taking advantage of an opportunity. The murder happened this
morning before Tim left camp. There can’t be anyone around here who looks enough like
Tim to confuse a witness. It’s all fucking ridiculous and Tim’s scared shitless. We have
to get him out!”
Jorge squeezed James’s shoulder. “Of course we’ll get him out. Let’s just stay calm for
a moment.” Jorge looked at the others, contemplating the preposterous nature of these
circumstances. Then he looked back at James. “They told you they have an eye-
witness?”
“Yes. An old lady.”
Jorge rubbed his mouth. “Sounds like extortion. They’re looking for a bribe.”
“I already offered one. Two thousand dollars. He refused. The victim’s supposedly from
a prominent family. They want us to be desperate so we’ll be willing to pay more.”
Jorge considered the possibilities. If there were drugs in the area, this could be some
sort of a drug related murder, a crime in need of a scapegoat. Tim would have been
convenient. James was right, the so-called witness couldn’t have been confused—there
weren’t many tall thin blonds running around in this part of the world. It seemed more
likely they were setting the stage to negotiate a bigger bribe.
“The nearest American Council is probably in Cancun,” Jake said.
James had already ruled out the American Council based on the stories that continually
trickled from the foreign legal department at his firm. Not only did this case seem
predetermined, he knew the pitfalls in dealing with foreign governments and law. The
American Council was all but useless up against the Mexican government, or at best a
bogged down labored affair. They were dealing with corruption. If they didn’t cooperate,
the corrupt officials would simply seal Tim’s fate. And if they transferred Tim to another
jail, it would most likely be far more difficult to get him out.
“What can the American Council do? Inform us of what few rights we have? Maybe
make an official protest if they believe an injustice has occurred? We don’t have time for
that. They’ve already declared he’s guilty. They’re planning to move him to another jail.
Sounded like that might happen in a matter of days. We don’t have much time!”
Jorge listened quietly, interpreting the panic in James’s voice as a picture stacked up
against Tim.
“What about a local lawyer?” David asked.
“No time for that I’m telling you!”
Jorge remained calm. “No indication how much it’ll take?”
James shook his head. “The deputy doesn’t have the authority to name a price. All he
did was assure me Tim would spend the rest of his life in jail.” James closed his eyes.
“God! I couldn’t stand seeing him in there. It ripped my heart out.” He opened his eyes
and glanced across three concerned faces. “We have to get him out of there.”
Jorge shifted his weight and sat on the ground in thought. The predicament had formed
clearly in his mind. He felt confident they were after a bribe. It was a question of how
much. He could go into Cancun and have his secretary wire the money. If it wasn’t a
bribe they were after, if this was a drug related crime and Tim was a convenient
scapegoat, the solution might take a different tact. They wouldn’t be able to take
chances with legal maneuvers. They would have to take matters into their own hands.
They would have to break Tim out, and to do so would be risky. He hoped it wouldn’t
come down to that. It had been years since his involvement in such adventures, years
since his instincts were honed to carry out such risks.
“I wanna see him,” David said resolutely.
“You will,” said Jorge. “I think we should break camp, then go in and get a room at that
hotel. A showing of solidarity behind Tim couldn’t hurt.” He looked at his companions
one by one before he continued. A far more serious expression had displaced his usual
carefree demeanor.
“We can assume the local officials are corrupt and are using Tim for some reason. I think
we can pay them off. But if this is drug related, Tim could be in real danger. We have to
be prepared to deal with that. The murder victim, supposedly the son of a prominent
family, might have been involved and got himself killed. Tim could very well be a
scapegoat for the real murderer. If an old woman claims he did it, they probably paid her
or threatened her if she wouldn't cooperate. Either way, we won’t know until we talk to the
constable; and if you guys don’t mind, I’d like to handle that.” Jorge paused and studied
the intent faces of the three men listening.
He continued. “This trip hasn’t turned out like we thought, has it?” He looked at James.
“Did you tell them you’re a lawyer?”
“Yeah. But I know almost nothing about criminal or international law.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can bluff your way through with legal nuance. They’ll feel more
obligated to cooperate with you. Where’s the jail in relation to the rest of the village?”
“Across the street from the hotel.”
“Good. That’ll make it easier to keep an eye on what’s going on. They’ll be less likely to
hurt him again if they know we’re just across the street. And Tim needs all the moral
support he can get. Knowing we’re close by will help.”
Deflated by this turn-of-events, they felt resentful and somber. Breaking camp was
thankless task with an endless run of nightmarish scenarios parading through their
minds. Nothing could be certain until Tim was released and they were on the plane back
home.
They remained silent as they made their way along the trail, the gnats and humidity more
irritating than going in. David was thinking about Linda. He missed her. Everything they
had talked about during the last couple of days haunted him, in part because he wanted
to talk to her about his sexuality, to be rid of the secrets and the guilt and to be loved for
the man he really is. Now, for the first time since they began talking about it, the full
impact of a confession was taking form in his mind.
She would be shocked, of course. It would take time. But eventually she would come to
understand. He knew her that well. She would recognize the fact that some men are
born this way; that in spite of their desire to be married, to have and be loved by a wife,
these men also needed male companionship, intimate and otherwise. She would realize
it had no negative influence on their marriage, or his love for her, or his desire to grow old
with her. Given time, she would realize his relationship with James was harmless.
Or would she?
Coupled with what they faced with Tim, the prospect of facing his wife with such a
confession made for a gloomy vacation. He looked at Jake and Jorge walking ahead of
him, pushing aside leafy vines and stepping over fallen limbs. He heard James’s footfall
behind and the sound of the chortling river, which glimmered through the foliage from time
to time. Why had the opportunity for such a wonderful vacation been lost? Why couldn’t
they have gotten away for a few days and have simply enjoyed being men?
They reached the end of the trail and loaded their gear in the back of the Rover. Jorge
drove. James had not said a word in over an hour. Jake had been quiet, too. Jorge
seemed focused on the task at hand.
“Unbelievable,” said David as he watched the tropical scenery pass by. The rutted road
tossed them in unison from side-to-side. “No wonder so many Mexicans come to the
United States.”
Jorge glanced over his shoulder. “The girls will be home from New York tomorrow.
They'll be expecting to hear from us.”
“Could be a problem,” said Jake. “Our cell phones don’t work here. I doubt there’s a
phone at the hotel.”
“There’s one in the constable’s office, not that it’ll do us any good.”
“If we can’t call out from the village, I’ll call them when I go into Cancun for the money. Just
to let them know we’re okay. I think they should know Tim is in jail. That way they’ll
understand why if we have to stay here longer than planned.”
From the passenger side, Jake looked over at Jorge. “Are you worried?”
Jorge shrugged. “There’s always the unforeseen. This seems fairly straightforward,
though. A simple extortion attempt. They’re betting Tim has relatives who will do
anything to come up with the money. We’ll just make it easier for them. We’ll pay them
off get the hell out of here as soon as possible.”
David was looking at the back of Jorge’s head. He seemed a little too controlled, like a
man who could face anything, confident, aggressive when necessary, never ruffled under
pressure. He wondered why Jorge so rarely talked about Vietnam, and seemed reluctant
when he did. He wondered what he had been involved in over there. David assumed his
raw courage and cool-headedness had taken root as a Navy Seal in that God forsaken
war.
“This is too much,” David finally said.
“Waiting it out is the problem. Not knowing.”
“I can’t imagine what he’s going through. He’s too sensitive to deal with something like
this.”
The reality of Tim’s situation had taken hold of David. “What if something goes wrong?
What if they won’t take a bribe? They might think he actually killed someone.”
James felt anger more than anything else. “They’ll take a bribe,” he assured them, “even
if they think Tim did it. I could see it on the deputy’s face. He looked at the money I put
on the desk and I could see the greed in his eyes. It just wasn’t enough.”
“I hate those sons-of-a-bitches. Tim, of all people.” David rubbed his eyes and muttered:
“I’m worried about Linda. This won’t go over well with her. She wanted us to stay in the
states.” He felt empty, like he had ended up on the wrong road with no way of knowing
which way to turn.