| Chapter 18 |
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They pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel. The street was deserted. Jorge stepped out
of the Rover and surveyed the surrounding buildings. James slammed the passenger door
and stood next to him.
“Kinda quiet around here this time of day,” he said.
Jorge nodded. “Yeah. A sleepy little village. You wonder about what’s really going on
around here.”
James studied him for a moment. He had never met such a confident man in his life. It
occurred to him, in view of their evolving friendship, that he would always remember the
impassioned embrace of his masculine arms. Then it struck him as odd, that even under
these circumstances, a man’s mind could go there.
Jake stepped up on the curb, pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. No service. He
looked at the others and shook his head.
David was standing on the sidewalk, staring across the street at the jail. His heart ached
knowing Tim was in there. The otherwise nondescript building had taken on a sinister air.
He felt a compelling urge to go in and see Tim, to assure him everything was going to be all
right; yet he cringed at the thought of crossing the street and entering such a threatening
place. In fact, his perspective of the whole town was different. It no longer seemed like a
charming village; it was as if lechery lurked behind every window.
All five were staring at the jail, pondering a scenario that had victimized them and seemed
utterly unconscionable. They stood silently, glancing around for signs of life and finally a
lone man rounded the corner, nodded, and then moved on down the street. They could
hear something being shuffled around inside the building on the other side of the hotel, and
across the street in that direction a lone figure stared out through a shuttered window.
They turned and walked into the small, dusty lobby. A Mexican woman wearing a
homespun dress watched their approach.
“You speak English,” Jorge asked, resting his arm on the ancient counter.
She nodded.
“We need two rooms. A day or two, maybe longer.”
She turned a well-worn guest book toward him. As he signed, he asked: “How much are
the rooms?”
“American, fifteen dollars a day.”
He handed her a hundred dollar bill. “Two rooms. I’ll pay for three days.” She wrote a note
next to his name in the ledger, then opened a wooden drawer and counted out ten one
dollar bills. “Is there a phone here?” he asked, pocketing the change.
She handed him two keys, numbers six and eight. “No, Señor. The only phone is at the
constable’s office across the street.”
So he had figured. He, like the others, felt overwhelmingly isolated. He pushed one the
keys into his pocket and handed David the other, then looked at James. “You ready to go
back over there and see our friend?”
James nodded. “Think we should all go?”
Jorge looked at Jake and David. “Maybe not. We don’t want to look like we’re trying to
intimidate them. Might put them on the defensive. Unless you guys want to go.”
“I do,” said David. “But I agree.” He looked at Jake. “Wanna go around the corner for a
beer?”
Back out on the sidewalk, they paused. James set his gaze on the jail. He intended to
change his approach with the deputy. He was an attorney. He knew how to play the role of
an affable lawyer. Instead of confrontational, he planned to be civil, to avoid the kind of
attitude that might delay Tim’s re-lease.
James and Jorge started out to cross the street. David and Jake walked around the corner
to the tavern. They took the table near the front window and sat there looking out until the
boy brought over two bottles of beer.
“I feel bad about this,” said Jake, staring down at the rough-hewn tabletop.
“Don’t blame yourself, buddy. It’s not your fault.”
“It was my idea to come down here. I had no idea this sort of thing could happen.”
David emptied half of the bottle with his next drink. The cold beer tasted good on such a
hot, humid day. The hike to the Rover left him feeling sticky, and both he and Jake had a
film of sweat on their foreheads. “Forget it,” he said. “You don’t expect things like this to
happen.”
They sat quietly for a few moments, then Jake said: “I’ve been thinking that stuff we talked
about in camp.”
“The poker game?”
“Well, that and talking to our wives.”
“Looks like all of us are thinking about it,” said David. He leaned back and crossed his
legs. “Until this thing with Tim happened, it’s been hard to think about anything else.”
“What’s your position on it?”
David looked out the window in thought. It had been difficult to imagine actually talking to
his wife about his sexuality. The idea of sharing it with her and eliminating the only secret
that lay between them had a satisfying quality to it. On the other hand, it was troubling on
many levels. What if she couldn’t accept it? What if it destroyed her image of him as a
man? What if she insisted he end his relationship with James? What if she couldn’t accept
the fact that he had kept it hidden for so long? What if she couldn’t forgive him for not telling
her before they got married?
“I don’t know, Jake. There’re pros and cons, I guess. How do you feel about it?”
“I’m tired of trying to hide it from her.” He had obviously given it a lot of thought. “It’s like
they don’t know who we really are. I don’t think that’s fair, to them or us.”
“It starts working on the foundation of your marriage.”
“That, and it wrecks your peace-of-mind.”
“Then you’re thinking about talking to Sally?”
“Just one of us can’t. We all have to agree. We all talk to our wives, or none of us do.”
“I agree. I think James wants to. I don’t know about Tim or Jorge.”
The somber silence fell over them again. David motioned for two more beers and turned to
look out the window. He would be glad when this ordeal was over with, glad to be out of
this village. He stared absently at the stucco building across the street, feeling increasingly
uncomfortable. He took a swallow of beer and sighed. “Wonder how things are going over
there?”
James and Jorge walked into the constable’s office apprehensively. The deputy was
talking on the phone. Not more than five foot-six, he sat casually in his sweat stained
uniform, his chair leaned back against the wall. There was an oily sheen on his face, a
moustache, a broad nose, and teeth stained by tobacco. He held his hand up to signal he
would be with them in a moment.
James was ready by the time the deputy hung up the phone. “I came by to apologize for
being angry earlier today. Just wasn’t expecting that kind of news.”
“That’s okay, Señor.” The deputy looked at Jorge. “Who’s your friend?”
“Another friend. He came down with us. We stopped in to see Tim and find out when the
constable will be in.”
The deputy seemed to be sizing up Jorge. “You his lawyer, too?”
“A friend, Señor. We want to get this matter cleared up. When will the constable be here?”
“Oh he rarely comes around these days. He bought a big house in Cancun. He stays over
there most of the time.”
“A big house,” James muttered, regarding the man as a slovenly excuse for a deputy. He
wasn’t surprised by the constable’s lifestyle, given the profits to be made in the extortion
business. He refrained from showing contempt.
Jorge was less patient. “He’s got business here. Why don’t you call him and arrange a
meeting?”
The deputy nodded. “Yes, I’ll call him. I’ll let you know in the morning.”
The first delay. James hoped there wouldn’t too many. “We’d like to spend a few minutes
with him.” Before the deputy drew up with hesitation, James added: “Don’t forget that five
hundred dollars I gave you. There’s five hundred more when we get this settled if we can
see him whenever we come.”
The deputy nodded and handed James the key ring. James took it and turned toward the
door.
Tim looked up with a gleam of relief in his eyes. He had not moved from the position
James left him in. Stepping into what felt like the fowl breath of injustice, James turned the
key and swung open the door. He sat on the steel bed next to him and took his hand. He
wished he had more positive news. Jorge sat down on the other side of him.
Tim was grateful to see them, he could hardly talk. “Sure good to see you guys. Seems
like I’ve been in here a week.”
James sniffed the air and looked around. “Smells like a sewer in here.”
Tim nodded at a bucket in the corner.
“Good lord.”
“Have you heard anything yet?”
“Well buddy…” James said gently, pausing to check his own emotions. “I suppose I should
level with you. We believe they’re corrupt. Looks like they want money.”
“They can have every cent I have,” Tim said desperately.
James winced when Tim turned his head and revealed the raw fear in his eyes. James
wanted to hold him, to march him out this hellhole then and there. He swallowed his
emotions and continued. “We’re not worried about the money. It’s a matter of seeing the
constable, which should be soon. He’s in Cancun. The deputy will be getting in touch with
him. We should find out something tomorrow. Just know we’re getting you out. You won’t
be in here much longer.”
Jorge placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “As soon as we find out how much they want, I’ll
go into Cancun to get the money.”
“They’re planning to move me to another jail,” Tim said nervously.
“I know. We’ll have you out before then. We’ve taken a room across the street. While you’
re here, we’ll always be close by. We’ll come often to make sure nothing is going on we
don’t know about. For now, don’t worry about being moved. They don’t even know where
they’re moving you yet.” He took a hold of Tim’s jaw and turned his face toward the light for
a better look at his bruised eye. “That sonofabitch! This shouldn’t happen again. I paid the
deputy to make sure it doesn’t.”
Tim leaned closer. James wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him tight,
fighting back a tear.
“Have you talked to Rosemary? It’ll drive her crazy to hear about this.”
“I’ll call her as soon as I go to Cancun,” said Jorge. “She doesn’t have to know how serious
it is.”
Tim’s hands started trembling again.
James’s emotions were getting the better of him. “If you could lay down and go to sleep it
would help pass the time. Think you could?”
“I could try.”
“Then try.” James drew a breath and looked around the cell. “We better go. I don’t want to
appear to be taking advantage of that deputy’s generosity. Remember, we’ll be right
across the street. We’ll be checking in over here, even if you don’t see us.”
“Is David and Jake over there, too?”
“Yes. They wanted to come. We thought it’d be best if just the two of us came this time.
Will you be okay now?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we’ll see you in the morning.”
James closed the door quietly when he entered the outer office. He approached the deputy
while Jorge waited in the middle of the room.
“We’ve taken a room across the street. We’ll be back in the morning, around nine o’clock.
I hope you’re contacted the constable by then. We want to cooperate and we expect the
same courtesy from you.”
“No problem, Señor.”
James wanted to find out if they would have access to the phone. Plus he wanted to talk to
Shasha. “I need to make a call.”
The deputy’s eyes fell on the phone, his fingers drumming the desk. His eyes shifted to the
twenty-dollar bill James laid by the phone.
“That ought to cover the charges.”
The deputy pushed the phone across the desk and picked up the twenty.
♦ ♦ ♦
Two hours after Shasha got home from New York, she received the call. Linda was there
for ice cream and coffee. They had been sitting at the kitchen table, talking about Sally’s
outrageously funny behavior in New York. Linda watched her best friend pick up the phone
and put it to her ear. Instant alarm swept over Shasha’s face.
“What did you say? …Tim’s in jail! …What? I can barely hear you. …You can’t talk?
…The only phone where? ...James! You’re scaring me! …Why do you want me to tell
Linda? Where’s David? …None of this is making sense. James, just tell me what’s going
on. …Of course you have to get Tim out, but… You can’t talk right now! James, I don’t
understand. You sound worried. I don’t understand what’s going on. …I heard that. You
can’t talk on that phone. Dammit, James. You’re scaring the shit out of me. When will you
be home? …What’s he in jail for? …Yes, I’ll tell Linda. …No! Don’t hang up yet. …I know
you can’t talk, but… Don’t hang up!”
Shasha’s arm fell limp at her side, the phone still in her hand. She stared into space,
stunned.
Linda approached and stood next to her, anxious to hear what must have been dire news.
She took her friend’s arm. “Shasha,” she said with a quiet sense of dread. “What
happened? Are they okay?”
Shasha seemed lost in a state of confusion.
Linda guided her to the table and got her to sit down. She sat on the edge of the chair next
to her, staring nervously, waiting to hear what James had said. A few moments later she
asked again. “Shasha, tell me what James said.”
Shasha’s blank expression changed to bewildered concern. She looked at Linda,
wondering how to explain a conversation that she herself did not comprehend. “He
sounded worried.”
“What did he say?”
“Tim’s in jail.”
“My God!” The fact that they were in Mexico dawned on her immediately. Like everyone
else, she had heard the horror stories of being arrested there. “What did he get arrested
for?”
Shasha shook her head. “They’re planning to get him out somehow. Some-thing about the
only phone is in the constable’s office, so he couldn’t talk. Their cell phones don’t work
down there.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’m scared, Linda. Why would Tim
get arrested? What if they arrest James or David?”
Linda shivered. She looked down at the floor. Why hadn’t David called? Why was Tim in
jail? What’s going on down there that James couldn’t simply explain? Linda felt a stab of
panic. She looked back at Shasha.
“His voice,” said Shasha. “I’ve never heard him sound like that before. God! I’m losing my
mind.”
♦ ♦ ♦
James hung up the phone, turned and looked at Jorge, stressed by the panic he heard in
Shasha’s voice. He wished he hadn’t called her.
Jorge could see that the situation was wearing on him. “C’mon. Let’s go get some rest.”
James looked at the deputy with thinly veiled contempt. His eyes reflected everything he
was thinking. He turned and the two of them walked back out to the street. It was mid-
afternoon. Across the way, a woman trailed by two children and carrying two bags of
groceries was making her way down the sidewalk. James figured there must a store in one
of the buildings that Jake didn’t know about.
In the tavern, David and Jake had finished their second beer.
“Any luck?” David asked when James and Jorge approached the table.
“It’s frustrating,” said James. “You feel so damn helpless. We should find out something
tomorrow.”
Caught off-guard, David’s train-of-thought shifted. There were moments, most often right
out of the blue, when he realized just how much he loved James. He was staring at him
now, thinking about how beautiful he was, thinking about how much he would love to hold
him. “You guys gonna have a beer?”
“I’d rather to go to the room,” said James. “I feel worn out.”
David quietly stood up.
Jorge took his chair. “I’ll stay here and have a beer with Jake.”
David and James went to their room. Larger than they expected, but stark, the bare
wooden floor creaked as they entered. One full size bed with exposed steel springs and
covered with cotton sheets, a small wooden side table with an oil lamp, one wooden chair,
and another table against the wall opposite the bed with a wash basin and pitcher of water
were the furnishings. While James undressed, David opened the shuttered windows on the
street side wall and the dim room filled with sunlight.
He took off his shirt and tossed it on the chair and stood in the window looking out. An
older model Chevrolet passed on the street below. Two men stood talking on the corner
across from the hotel. The warm air felt good on his damp chest, though he was beginning
to feel gritty. A couple of days in a setting like this would have seemed like a romantic
adventure had it not been for the circumstances. It would be impossible to relax until they
were all boarding a plane.
“Who could’ve predicted this?” James said from the bed.
David turned to look at him. James had stripped down to his underwear and was lying on
the bed, propped up on the two pillows. “You mean this trip?”
“Well, that and the way summer is ending.”
David shrugged. “Sometimes I think we made a mistake. Then I think back over the
summer, the time we all spent together. I can’t regret having those guys as friends.”
“Me either,” said James. “Now the future seems so uncertain.”
David walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. The springs squeaked and gave under
his weight. He was staring at his lover. “In a way it doesn’t, not for you and me. I just didn’t
realize I could feel this way about someone other than Linda.” He paused as that familiar
emotion swelled in his chest. Then he reached out and ran his hand up James’s leg and let
it rest on his thigh. “Sometimes things seem so complicated.”
“We’re living two lives. What do you expect?”
David looked into his eyes for a moment. “You think we should tell them, don’t you?”
“Can we go on the way it is? Can we live the rest of our lives sneaking around, hiding our
feelings, lying, being married to women who are living a completely different reality?”
“How do you think they would take it?”
“I don’t know.” He looked down at David’s hand on his thigh. “They’d be hurt, angry. But
they love us as much as we love them. They’d realize that. They’d eventually understand
our feelings for each other will never impact our love for them.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“I have to believe it. We can’t leave things the way they are now.”
David stood, kicked off his sandals and stepped out of his jeans. Wearing his briefs, he
got on the bed and straddled James on his knees, his haunches resting on James’s thighs.
He ran his hands up James’s ribs and over his chest, and then leaned forward and kissed
him.
His emotions were in the kiss: their past and future together, the feelings that were warming
his loins, their trust in each other and their unconditional love; all reflected by the passion of
wet mouths and lips. He felt the irresistible impulses of instinct; a desire took hold that
transformed the unadorned room into a private haven for two despairing men.
David lifted his hips, reached down and pushed his hand under the waistband of James’s
underwear. He took hold of the black cock, firm and warm in his hand, wet and slippery on
the end. He wanted to feel it inside; it seemed the small drop of semen made it slippery
enough to go in. He slipped off his underwear, positioned himself and rubbed it on his
anus. A moment later it pushed through. Overwhelmed by a sense of urgency, he wanted it
all the way in. Working it with one hand, he parted the left cheek with the other and the cock
sank further in, ever so slowly until he felt the black curls of pubic hair crushed between
them. Sensations from the void below his belly radiated through his entire body: the warmth
of it, the stretching, the thick diameter that made him feel full.
It was more than feeling a man inside—it was being with this man in this way, this act that
defined something that couldn’t be described with words. It was the body’s poetry
capturing the mind and freeing the soul, reducing the world, as it was now, to nothing
beyond the four walls of this room. It was two men expressing what had been revealed by
the kiss, exposing everything that existed or could exist in their hearts; two men who, a few
minutes later, were bathed by a tropical breeze whispering through the window and fast
asleep in each other’s arms.
Other than meeting the others later in the day to check on Tim, then a dinner of beans and
tamales at the tavern, James and David spent the rest of the day together in bed. They
contemplated the direction their summer had gone, coupled with worrying about Tim sitting
alone in that cell. And always, in the back of their minds, was the prospect of talking to their
wives when they got home. It was beginning to seem like a foregone conclusion. And they
made love, perhaps more desperately than ever before, perhaps with even more passion,
as if doing so represented an unspoken promise. Finally, with the warm night air wafting
through the window, on sheets damp with the smell of their bodies, they fell asleep with their
legs entwined.
David woke up first. First light had brightened the room. He heard a passing car, then the
sound of children’s voices on the street below. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, he
reflected on the joy of falling asleep and then waking up with James.
James, facing David on his side, woke up a few minutes later. He stared at the man
beside him for a moment, smiling inwardly at his morning appearance: the fussy blond hair,
the stubble across his chin. Then: “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.”
James scooted closer and draped his arm across David’s chest. He liked the way this felt
nice. “Are you usually this quiet in the morning?”
“My mind’s wandering. I’m worried about Tim; then I’m thinking about how wonderful this
feels; then I’m thinking about Linda. I’m vacillating be-tween euphoria and madness.”
At nine o’clock James entered the deputy’s office with Jorge. Though Tim had never been
far from his mind, having David all to himself for that much time seemed to have taken their
feelings for each other to a new level, one difficult to acknowledge and even more difficult to
talk about. Even now he was distracted by it. The smell of David’s body was still in his
nostrils.
The deputy looked up with a grin of accomplishment when they walked in. James hoped it
meant headway in Tim’s release. Jorge seemed even less patient than he had been the
day before, which made James feel anxious. He wasn’t certain about Jorge’s threshold of
tolerance under such circumstances.
“Hola, my friends. I contacted the constable last night.” He was obviously proud of himself.
“I think we can get this matter resolved. He’ll be here at noon.”
Jorge stepped forward and stopped just in front of the Deputy’s desk. He stared at the man
with contempt for a moment, which put a blush of unease on the deputy’s face. “Hand me
the keys.” Jorge’s tone was cold and demanding, even threatening.
The deputy noticeably shrank back in his chair. James thought he looked scared. He
wondered if intimidation would be effective in this situation, when in reality the deputy and
his cohorts held the upper hand. Perhaps, where law is nothing more than a mockery, the
deputy realized it could work both ways. Then, too, if intimidation could give them an edge,
Jorge was the right candidate to deliver it. The deputy pulled open a drawer, took out the
keys and handed them over.
Tim was standing in the middle of the cell. It looked like he had not slept during the night.
The angst etched on his face was no less heart-wrenching than the day before. He looked
like a wilting rose in a garden of weeds.
Jorge entered the cell and wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulder. James stood to the
side. The small space smelled of urine.
“We’ll see the constable at noon,” Jorge told him. “This should be over soon. It won’t take
long to go in and get the money.”
Tim closed his eyes and took a few breaths. “I’ll pay you back. Soon as I can. I just want
out of here.”
James’s shoulders tightened. He could hardly stand it. He feared his own anger, welling
as it was to go back into the front room and beat the deputy senseless.
They did what they could to comfort their friend before returning to the tavern to meet David
and Jake, who were eating some sort of breakfast hash.
“We have almost three hours to kill,” James said as he took the chair next to David. “That
any good?”
“Not bad,” said David. “Potatoes and pork.”
James looked at Jorge. “I thought you were going to attack that asshole there for a minute.”
Jorge groaned and shook his head. “It’s not over yet,” he said half jokingly. “Calling us
friends crawled all over me.”
The boy approached. James and Jorge ordered the hash and coffee.
“We still don’t know how much they want?” said Jake.
“I’m guessing twenty-five thousand will satisfy them,” said James. “We’ll find out when the
constable gets here.”
“I figure that’s low,” said Jorge. “They know they have us. Between twenty-five and a
hundred is more like it.” He looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll
pay it and get the hell out of here.”
“That broke my heart when Tim promised to pay you back.”
Jorge shrugged. “Tim is Tim, even under these circumstances.”
“What should we do for three hours?” Jake asked.
David ran his hand up his arm. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to wash off
some of this grit.”
“Did you see that old fashioned pump in the latrine? Must be their only source for water.”
“We’ll have to wait until we get home.”
“At least we have those porcelain bowls in the room. Better than nothing.”
After they finished eating, they took their bags up to the room. David took the porcelain
pitcher to the communal latrine, pumped it full of water and took it back to the room. James
got out his novel, sprawled out on the bed and awaited his turn to shave. After he shaved
and got back in bed, the book remained closed. David had been watching him from
behind—all it took to get them started.
The constable arrived in a shiny new Cadillac, replete with enough gadgets and chrome to
match his overfed, obnoxious demeanor. David found him revolting. So did the others.
The so-called constable had brought along a rather cretin-like goon, most likely a body
guard. They had gathered in the deputy’s office: the constable taking his place behind the
desk, the goon beside him, the deputy standing alert near the heavy wood door. Jorge had
taken the initiative to address the issue, standing stoically in front of the desk, James
beside him, David leaning against a nearby wall, Jake a bit closer to the front door.
“A serious charge, Señor, murder,” said the constable, looking down at a single sheet of
paper. It looked like some kind of a form.
Jorge’s response was sharp and direct. “Let’s see if we can settle this quickly.”
The constable shrugged and looked him in the eye, as if sizing up an opponent. “What do
you propose, Señor?”
“It’s your call, Mister. Make it reasonable and we’ll have it resolved by this time tomorrow.”
“Reasonable? The charge is murder. I know the victim’s family. They will expect justice.”
“You picked the wrong man to fuck with, Señor Hernandez. This gets resolved today or I go
to Mexico City and speak with the proper authorities. Your government doesn’t condone
what’s taking place here. They will not want to see it in American newspapers. I’m willing
to cooperate with you only because I don’t want to waste a lot of time. Resolve it today,
now, or tomorrow I get in touch with my contacts.”
Hernandez glanced at all four men. None of them looked friendly or intimidated. He picked
up the paper and read it over a second time. “I asked you, Señor, what do you have in
mind?”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars and you tear up that paper.”
“Señor. twenty-five thousand, for…”
“Twenty-five thousand,” Jorge emphasized angrily.
“Seventy-five,” Hernandez responded.
“I can raise fifty. Not a nickel more.”
Hernandez pondered the offer, tapping his stubby fingers on the desktop. He looked up,
apparently satisfied. “When?”
“I’ll be back by this time tomorrow.”
James let out a small breath of relief. He immediately approached the deputy. “Open the
door.”
The others followed James in.
Tim had heard their voices and knew they were there. He was standing at the bars with a
hopeful expression.
James smiled the moment their eyes met. “It’s settled, buddy. We’ll be on a plane by
tomorrow afternoon.”
Jorge added: “I’ll be leaving in a few minutes to get the money. Just a matter of finding a
bank and getting it wired down. Shouldn’t take long.”
Tim might have grinned, but he couldn’t. Nothing more than weary relief appeared on his
face.
Jorge set off for Cancun. He pulled to the side of the road to call Michelle as soon as his
phone indicated a signal. Hearing her voice reminded him of what he and the others had
been talking about. He couldn’t imagine facing her with a confession. He told her about
what happened to Tim and asked her to be available in case something came up.
In Cancun, before getting a room, he stopped at the airport to make arrangements for a
private plane. He wanted no delays in getting out of Mexico after Tim’s release. Soon after
he was in the hotel room, he picked up the phone to call Rosemary. She had heard only a
partial story about Tim’s victimization from Linda.
“But why is he in jail?” she asked. Her voice was panicky.
“It’s nothing serious. He’s doing just fine. Of course it’s all a mistake. We just have to put
up with a little red tape to get him out. The others are with him now. I’m in Cancun to make
arrangements for our flight home. Everything’s been resolved. I called because I didn’t
want you to be worried.”
“Can’t I talk to him on the phone?” she pleaded, now tearful.
“I’m afraid not. It’s a foreign country and they have certain rules. But please don’t worry.
We have everything under control. He knows I planned to call you and he sends his love.
♦ ♦ ♦
Linda had stayed all night at Shasha’s house. They had fallen asleep in arm-chairs
watching a late night movie. During breakfast neither of them knew what to say to reassure
the other. What little information they received from James, coupled with his anxious tone,
had come together in their minds to form nothing but confusion.
When the phone rang, Linda answered it and heard Jorge’s voice.
“Jorge!”
“I thought I dialed Shasha’s number,” he said.
“You did. I’m at her house. Where are you, Jorge?”
“Right now, I’m in Cancun. Tomorrow I’ll go back to the village and get Tim out of jail.”
“We’re worried sick!”
“That’s what I figured. James couldn’t talk when he called.”
“I wanna know what the hell’s going on.”
“Nothing to worry about. I was afraid you got the wrong picture since James couldn’t speak
freely.”
“Wrong picture!” she said with little patience. “What he said sounded awfully bleak to us.”
“Tim’s arrest was a mistake. The situation looked a little grim at first, but it’s been
straightened out. We should be on our way back home by tomorrow afternoon.”
Linda felt a sense of anger. “Listen Jorge, tell me what’s going on. Everything. Don’t beat
around the bush or I’ll wring your fucking neck!”
Jorge hesitated before he replied. “I understand. I told the others I wouldn’t tell you what
actually happened, but I can see that wouldn’t be fair. Tim was arrested for murder.”
“Murder? That’s insane.”
“It’s an extortion attempt. We’re dealing with corrupt officials who wouldn’t hesitate to lock
Tim away for the rest of his life if we don’t cooperate. That’s why I’m in Cancun. To get the
money to pay them off.”
“My God!”
“We have no choice.”
“Are you crazy! Haven’t you heard of lawyers? Due process? What if they arrest you for
attempted bribery?”
“Linda, it’s not like that. If we tried to handle this legally, Tim would be sentenced. Any trial
would be a mockery.”
Suddenly overwhelmed by desperation, Linda pleaded: “Jorge, please, I have to talk to
David. What if something goes wrong?”
“I wish I knew what to say to comfort you. David and the others stayed in the village.
There's no way to talk to him there. They wanted to stay close to Tim. We’ve considered
the alternatives. This is the quickest way to get him out. If it had been David, we’d be
doing the same for him.”
She didn’t know what to say. The unyielding tone of Jorge’s voice left little room for debate.
“I talked to Rosemary,” he continued. “She knows there’s a problem, but I truly believe it’s
best she doesn’t learn the severity of it. Since Shasha’s there with you, can I depend on
you to fill her in, and call Sally?”
“Yes,” she said, followed by a long silence.
“Linda. I have to go. Is there anything else I can say?”
“No.”
She heard a click. After allowing the news soak in for a moment, she unsteadily walked
back to the table and sank into a chair across from Shasha. The situation was worse than
she had assumed. Both wives were at a complete loss. Though Shasha had not heard the
details, she heard enough to grasp the seriousness of the circumstances. All they could do
was wait it out and worry.
After the initial shock abated, Linda related everything Jorge had said. What now? It was
supposed to be a simple camping trip. How could this have happened? What was to
become of their husbands, engaged in plans to bribe Mexican officials? The waiting
already felt like a helpless drought.
Shasha began to sob. “James doesn’t know anything about Mexican law!” she wailed. “He
could get into trouble! What if they arrest him, too?”
“Shasha, listen to me. David doesn’t know about these things either, but you didn’t hear
Jorge’s voice. He didn’t sound the slightest bit worried. He must know how to handle these
things. I hate it as much as you do, but what if it had been David or James? Wouldn’t we
be glad they were there willing to do whatever it takes to get them out of that country?”
Shasha looked at Linda through her tears. “But something could happen. I wouldn’t know
what to do.”
Linda took her hand. “We have no choice. They’ll be okay … I’m certain of it.” She gazed
away absently, repeating vaguely: “I’m certain of it.”
A few minutes later Linda picked up the phone to call Michelle.
“So he told you the whole story,” said Michelle.
“Well, I sort of insisted. Afraid I wasn’t very pleasant with him.”
“Trust me, he understands,” Michelle assured her.
“This scares me, Michelle, but Jorge sounded so confident.”
“Yes, I know. He’s never intimidated by anything. I know how scary this seems, but Jorge
really does know what he’s doing. He’s been involved in this kind of thing before. I’m sure
they’ll be coming home by tomorrow.”
Michelle’s unruffled attitude reassured Linda. She was glad she called. “Listen Michelle, I’
m at Shasha’s house. Why don’t you join us?”
“I’d love to, but Jorge asked me to stay here until he got home, in case he needs something
done on this end.”
“I see. So you’re on duty. Will you call if you hear anything?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll talk soon.”
Linda dialed Sally’s number next. It took less than three minutes to explain everything Jorge
said. When she finished talking, she heard a long silence on the phone.
“Sally...”
“You’re not kidding about this?”
“No. Of course not,” said Linda.
“My husband is mixed up in paying off some Mexican deputy to get Tim out of jail?”
“Yes.”
Another silence, then a loud sigh.
“Sally...”
“If they don’t throw his ass in there with Tim, I’m gonna fuck his brains out when he gets
back!”
Linda held the phone out and looked at it, then returned it to her ear. “Are you all right,
Sally?”
“I certainly am. Just tearing up a little. He’s down there sticking by a friend. All of them
are. I can’t tell you how much I love those men.”
“You’re taking it well.”
“No, I’m not, but what can I do? Right now I’m so proud of my husband I’m about to burst out
in tears.”
Linda looked at Shasha and shrugged. “I’m glad I called,” she said into the phone. “You’ve
made me feel better.”
“Well, I’ve been down a lot of roads in my life, every one of them with Jake. No regrets.
This is a time to have confidence in what he’s doing. They’re all something special.”
“Sally, I’m at Shasha’s house. Why don’t you join us?”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
♦ ♦ ♦
After a fitful night’s sleep, Jorge went a bank the first thing the next morning. One call to his
secretary was all it took. She would arrange for the money to arrive within the hour. He
went back out to the Rover to wait.
♦ ♦ ♦
David stood near the hotel room window staring down at the constable’s office. Behind
him, sitting up against the pillows in bed, James had fallen asleep. Their passion during
the night had kept them awake almost to dawn. After breakfast, Jake had gone to the jail to
sit with Tim. The waiting felt like some cruel form of torture.
Was this the price of betrayal, a just reward for a man who acts on his carnal urges, this
waiting, this rat chewing at the raw lining inside his stomach, this morning in hell not
knowing what might happen? That, plus what waited for them back home if they decided to
confess to their wives. Must be the mind’s way of guiding a man in the right direction,
relentlessly collecting these molecules of guilt that push him closer and closer to the edge,
until he succumbs to the right thing. Why? Why, by virtue of responding to nature’s call,
must life be so complicated? It was a powerful lesson to learn, how deceiving one’s wife
leaves a man facing his own downfall. The more he thought about it, the more truth seemed
like the antidote. He had shared a bed with four men. He had fallen in love with his best
friend. Was it time to bring this secret life out of the shadows?
Jorge pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel two hours later. All four of them were in the
constable’s office within twenty minutes, envelope thick with hundred dollar bills in hand.
Hernandez stood to the side, his hands clasped behind his back as the deputy counted the
money at the desk. Jorge, standing in the front entrance, leaning against the doorframe,
observed. He assumed these people must also be involved in drugs, unless extorting
tourists produced enough income to buy gaudy cars and big houses in Cancun.
The deputy led Tim out of the cell as soon as the money was counted. The moment he saw
his friends, the fear in his eyes turned into a smile that quickly found its way to his lips.
Their bags were already packed and loaded in the Rovers. After a reflective drive to the
airport, five men found themselves boarding a private plane.
It was a comfortable jet, designed to allow them to sit in chairs that faced each other. They
had been provided with snacks and a refrigerator stocked with soft drinks and beer.
Bottles of wine filled a rack on the front bulkhead. With a smooth takeoff behind them, they
settled in for the flight. Tim still looked a little disoriented.
David leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “That was fucking
unbelievable! How do they get away with things like that?”
Tim was looking at Jorge. “I don’t know what to say. It’ll take a while, but I’ll spend the rest
of my life repaying you if I have to.”
Jorge lowered his head, then looked back at Tim. “Why did I know you would say
something like that? I’ll say this once ... after that I hope I never hear the subject brought up
again. You would’ve done the same for me. If you have to do something, buy me a cup of
coffee when we get back to Dallas.”
“It cost you fifty thous...”
“Does it matter what it cost? What would you have been willing to spend if it had been me
in that jail?”
“But...”
“Tim, please, just buy me a cup of coffee.” Jorge looked at David. “You look a little
peeked, my friend.”
The affects of adrenaline had exhausted David. Everything had happened so fast, so
dauntingly, that his mind was running with a confusion of pictures. They had been facing a
risky unknown and the reality of that had caught up with him. “What if it went wrong? They
could have killed us. And they would have gotten away with that, too.”
“Not likely,” Jorge replied confidently. “They were just after some easy money. They know
what kind of chances they can take.”
“They’re corrupt,” Jake stated flatly. “They deserve to be hung. They’re ruining their own
country.”
Jorge reached over and squeezed his leg. “Next time we’ll go backpacking in west Texas.”
David sat back and stretched his legs out and looked down at his feet. Be-neath the relief
to be on the plane, beneath Jorge’s attempt to play down the event, there was an underlying
lava flow in all of them. He glanced at James, who was staring absently at the deck. He
knew intuitively what was bothering him. “What are you thinking about?”
James looked up. “We’ll be home in a couple of hours. We haven’t decided.”
David glanced at the others. They knew what James meant.
“I can’t stand what I’m doing to my marriage.” The horror in Shasha’s voice haunted him
from the moment he made the call from the constable’s office. Summer’s events were
clashing in his mind—the doubts, the lies and deception, what they had just gone through to
get Tim out of jail. There were times he felt close to a breakdown. “I wake up thinking
about it. Shasha lying in bed beside me, trusting me, believing in me. It’s too much. I can’t
even look her in the eye anymore. We use to sit and talk. Now I can’t focus on what she’s
saying for more than thirty seconds.” He sounded like a hungry prisoner that couldn’t
stretch his arm through the bars far enough for a plate of food. He stared across the cabin,
frightened, despairing. “I can’t lie to her anymore. It’s like I’ve pushed her away from the
center of my life.” He hesitated before going on. “I just want to talk to her. Tell her who I
am. Ask her to love me in spite of it, in spite of everything.”
No one spoke for a while. High over the Gulf of Mexico, like lost souls passing through a
lonely void, in the dimly lit cabin, each of them felt the weight of his painful words. The
muted roar of the engines had grown vague in their ears. It was gloom; it seemed
unending, the kind of gloom that somehow threatened to relegate their self-esteem to that
of selfish and thoughtless men. Not one of them had found a way to lie to his wife without
self-loathing. Though each man on some level considered doing so, it wasn’t until this mo-
ment the thought of actually making the confession crawled out to take its place on their
shoulders. Their bisexuality, a spiritual and physical gift when they were together, was also
a curse. Now, locked in forward motion and buffeted on currents and up-drafts, they
contemplated being truthful with their wives.
Jake finally broke the silence. “I’d tell Sally if it wouldn’t affect the rest of you.”
Silence again fell over the womb-like space. Jake had stated what had become
inescapable. His saying it without reservation seemed to have a purging effect. They could
not go on with their secret lives—guilt had destroyed any hope of that. To dull the edge of
self-contempt, they could only replace the lies with truth; then attempt to repair their
damaged vows. Just talk, be honest, tell their women who they are. It would change their
lives, but at least it would lay the right foundation to start over, to rebuild trust. Simply
contemplating it and talking about it openly brought on a sense of relief. Each of them felt
it. The weight of their guilt already began to lift.
“Don’t know how she’ll take it,” Jake went on to say, “but I’d like to know what it feels like to
be loved for who I really am.”
David sighed. “Knowing you guys has been a godsend for me. Our summer together
completed my life. Problem is we’ve learned you can’t reconcile your secrets by lying to
your wife. I lay awake at night hating myself for what I’m doing. No matter how natural it
seems to me, lying about it makes it seem wrong.” He looked at James. “If you want to talk
to Shasha, I think you should. I’ve thought about telling Linda a hundred times, and each
time it got harder to put it out of my mind. The personal risk isn’t what stopped me. I
couldn't risk outing you guys.”
“We all feel the same way,” said Tim. “We tried, but we’ll never be able to justify what we’re
doing. David’s right. We should tell them.”
Jorge stretched his legs out and leaned back in the chair reflectively. “To this day my life’s
biggest challenge was winning Michelle’s heart. When we met she didn’t trust me. Said
things come too easy for me. Said my goals went no further than the next conquest. She
might have been right, except for how badly I wanted her. No other woman existed. We
saw each other for a year before she decided to spend the night with me. That morning,
when we woke up, she warned me not to take the evening too seriously. My heart sank. It
took another year to get her to admit she loved me. We finally got married. …That’s what I
have at risk.”
Jorge looked at the others for a moment before he continued. “Gentlemen, our little
misadventure in Mexico reminded us of how much we love the women we married. We’re
sitting here thinking about how guilty we feel about lying to them. It’s gotten harder for me,
too. Telling them will likely end what we have together, plus jeopardize how they feel about
us as husbands. I’m sure you all know that. As for myself, as much as I own and control, the
one thing I don’t own or control is Michelle. How she’ll react scares me more than you
know. But the subject is on the table. Like Tim said, apparently we all feel the same way.
In spite of the consequences, we can’t go on being men who lie to our wives.”
James closed his eyes and his head fell back against the chair. “Then we tell them,” he
said resolutely. “As soon as we get home.” He paused. His gaze drifted absently. As
surely as the decision lifted his guilt, the reality of facing his wife began to sink in. Like a
man praying for a reprieve before the long walk to the gallows, he added: “And hope we
can find a way to make them understand.”
“They’re friends,” Jake said. “We’re all close. Maybe that’ll help get us through it.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Jorge.
David said: “When I first thought about the possibility of five men coming together, I knew
we’d have to be in sync psychologically. Obviously we are. We’ve deceived our wives and
none of us can live with it. Now were going home to face losing what we had this summer
and possibly everything that’s important to us, all because we let our instincts direct our
decisions. There’s never been a winning solution for any of us.”
Tim had another concern. “Are we confessing because it’s right to be honest, or simply
unloading our guilt at their expense?”
“Could be a little of both,” Jorge replied. “Fact is, we’re all fortunate enough to have their
unconditional trust. This summer we forfeited that honor. We may be unloading our guilt,
but we also respect their right to know the truth.”
It was a somber flight to Love Field. They sat in silence until the craft touched down on the
tarmac, where the plane stopped less than a hundred yards from the terminal. Jorge
ducked into the cockpit to thank the pilot as the others started down the unfolded steps. A
tanker truck approached to refill the fuel tanks.
With their gear slung on their backs, five men walked solemnly side-by-side in the pre-dawn
toward the terminal. Their summer had come to an end and already it seemed like an
obscure dream. They had wanted to believe their promiscuity would be a simple solution.
Instead, it turned out to be more complicated than any of them could have foreseen.
Together they walked through the misty light pondering a future as vague as the mist, for all
that seemed certain was uncertainty. Now they were home, prepared to face a new
chapter. They neared the building, carrying in their hearts something in which they could be
certain—there would be no more lies or deception; and that this particular summer, above
all those past, would live in their minds forever.
of the Rover and surveyed the surrounding buildings. James slammed the passenger door
and stood next to him.
“Kinda quiet around here this time of day,” he said.
Jorge nodded. “Yeah. A sleepy little village. You wonder about what’s really going on
around here.”
James studied him for a moment. He had never met such a confident man in his life. It
occurred to him, in view of their evolving friendship, that he would always remember the
impassioned embrace of his masculine arms. Then it struck him as odd, that even under
these circumstances, a man’s mind could go there.
Jake stepped up on the curb, pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. No service. He
looked at the others and shook his head.
David was standing on the sidewalk, staring across the street at the jail. His heart ached
knowing Tim was in there. The otherwise nondescript building had taken on a sinister air.
He felt a compelling urge to go in and see Tim, to assure him everything was going to be all
right; yet he cringed at the thought of crossing the street and entering such a threatening
place. In fact, his perspective of the whole town was different. It no longer seemed like a
charming village; it was as if lechery lurked behind every window.
All five were staring at the jail, pondering a scenario that had victimized them and seemed
utterly unconscionable. They stood silently, glancing around for signs of life and finally a
lone man rounded the corner, nodded, and then moved on down the street. They could
hear something being shuffled around inside the building on the other side of the hotel, and
across the street in that direction a lone figure stared out through a shuttered window.
They turned and walked into the small, dusty lobby. A Mexican woman wearing a
homespun dress watched their approach.
“You speak English,” Jorge asked, resting his arm on the ancient counter.
She nodded.
“We need two rooms. A day or two, maybe longer.”
She turned a well-worn guest book toward him. As he signed, he asked: “How much are
the rooms?”
“American, fifteen dollars a day.”
He handed her a hundred dollar bill. “Two rooms. I’ll pay for three days.” She wrote a note
next to his name in the ledger, then opened a wooden drawer and counted out ten one
dollar bills. “Is there a phone here?” he asked, pocketing the change.
She handed him two keys, numbers six and eight. “No, Señor. The only phone is at the
constable’s office across the street.”
So he had figured. He, like the others, felt overwhelmingly isolated. He pushed one the
keys into his pocket and handed David the other, then looked at James. “You ready to go
back over there and see our friend?”
James nodded. “Think we should all go?”
Jorge looked at Jake and David. “Maybe not. We don’t want to look like we’re trying to
intimidate them. Might put them on the defensive. Unless you guys want to go.”
“I do,” said David. “But I agree.” He looked at Jake. “Wanna go around the corner for a
beer?”
Back out on the sidewalk, they paused. James set his gaze on the jail. He intended to
change his approach with the deputy. He was an attorney. He knew how to play the role of
an affable lawyer. Instead of confrontational, he planned to be civil, to avoid the kind of
attitude that might delay Tim’s re-lease.
James and Jorge started out to cross the street. David and Jake walked around the corner
to the tavern. They took the table near the front window and sat there looking out until the
boy brought over two bottles of beer.
“I feel bad about this,” said Jake, staring down at the rough-hewn tabletop.
“Don’t blame yourself, buddy. It’s not your fault.”
“It was my idea to come down here. I had no idea this sort of thing could happen.”
David emptied half of the bottle with his next drink. The cold beer tasted good on such a
hot, humid day. The hike to the Rover left him feeling sticky, and both he and Jake had a
film of sweat on their foreheads. “Forget it,” he said. “You don’t expect things like this to
happen.”
They sat quietly for a few moments, then Jake said: “I’ve been thinking that stuff we talked
about in camp.”
“The poker game?”
“Well, that and talking to our wives.”
“Looks like all of us are thinking about it,” said David. He leaned back and crossed his
legs. “Until this thing with Tim happened, it’s been hard to think about anything else.”
“What’s your position on it?”
David looked out the window in thought. It had been difficult to imagine actually talking to
his wife about his sexuality. The idea of sharing it with her and eliminating the only secret
that lay between them had a satisfying quality to it. On the other hand, it was troubling on
many levels. What if she couldn’t accept it? What if it destroyed her image of him as a
man? What if she insisted he end his relationship with James? What if she couldn’t accept
the fact that he had kept it hidden for so long? What if she couldn’t forgive him for not telling
her before they got married?
“I don’t know, Jake. There’re pros and cons, I guess. How do you feel about it?”
“I’m tired of trying to hide it from her.” He had obviously given it a lot of thought. “It’s like
they don’t know who we really are. I don’t think that’s fair, to them or us.”
“It starts working on the foundation of your marriage.”
“That, and it wrecks your peace-of-mind.”
“Then you’re thinking about talking to Sally?”
“Just one of us can’t. We all have to agree. We all talk to our wives, or none of us do.”
“I agree. I think James wants to. I don’t know about Tim or Jorge.”
The somber silence fell over them again. David motioned for two more beers and turned to
look out the window. He would be glad when this ordeal was over with, glad to be out of
this village. He stared absently at the stucco building across the street, feeling increasingly
uncomfortable. He took a swallow of beer and sighed. “Wonder how things are going over
there?”
James and Jorge walked into the constable’s office apprehensively. The deputy was
talking on the phone. Not more than five foot-six, he sat casually in his sweat stained
uniform, his chair leaned back against the wall. There was an oily sheen on his face, a
moustache, a broad nose, and teeth stained by tobacco. He held his hand up to signal he
would be with them in a moment.
James was ready by the time the deputy hung up the phone. “I came by to apologize for
being angry earlier today. Just wasn’t expecting that kind of news.”
“That’s okay, Señor.” The deputy looked at Jorge. “Who’s your friend?”
“Another friend. He came down with us. We stopped in to see Tim and find out when the
constable will be in.”
The deputy seemed to be sizing up Jorge. “You his lawyer, too?”
“A friend, Señor. We want to get this matter cleared up. When will the constable be here?”
“Oh he rarely comes around these days. He bought a big house in Cancun. He stays over
there most of the time.”
“A big house,” James muttered, regarding the man as a slovenly excuse for a deputy. He
wasn’t surprised by the constable’s lifestyle, given the profits to be made in the extortion
business. He refrained from showing contempt.
Jorge was less patient. “He’s got business here. Why don’t you call him and arrange a
meeting?”
The deputy nodded. “Yes, I’ll call him. I’ll let you know in the morning.”
The first delay. James hoped there wouldn’t too many. “We’d like to spend a few minutes
with him.” Before the deputy drew up with hesitation, James added: “Don’t forget that five
hundred dollars I gave you. There’s five hundred more when we get this settled if we can
see him whenever we come.”
The deputy nodded and handed James the key ring. James took it and turned toward the
door.
Tim looked up with a gleam of relief in his eyes. He had not moved from the position
James left him in. Stepping into what felt like the fowl breath of injustice, James turned the
key and swung open the door. He sat on the steel bed next to him and took his hand. He
wished he had more positive news. Jorge sat down on the other side of him.
Tim was grateful to see them, he could hardly talk. “Sure good to see you guys. Seems
like I’ve been in here a week.”
James sniffed the air and looked around. “Smells like a sewer in here.”
Tim nodded at a bucket in the corner.
“Good lord.”
“Have you heard anything yet?”
“Well buddy…” James said gently, pausing to check his own emotions. “I suppose I should
level with you. We believe they’re corrupt. Looks like they want money.”
“They can have every cent I have,” Tim said desperately.
James winced when Tim turned his head and revealed the raw fear in his eyes. James
wanted to hold him, to march him out this hellhole then and there. He swallowed his
emotions and continued. “We’re not worried about the money. It’s a matter of seeing the
constable, which should be soon. He’s in Cancun. The deputy will be getting in touch with
him. We should find out something tomorrow. Just know we’re getting you out. You won’t
be in here much longer.”
Jorge placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “As soon as we find out how much they want, I’ll
go into Cancun to get the money.”
“They’re planning to move me to another jail,” Tim said nervously.
“I know. We’ll have you out before then. We’ve taken a room across the street. While you’
re here, we’ll always be close by. We’ll come often to make sure nothing is going on we
don’t know about. For now, don’t worry about being moved. They don’t even know where
they’re moving you yet.” He took a hold of Tim’s jaw and turned his face toward the light for
a better look at his bruised eye. “That sonofabitch! This shouldn’t happen again. I paid the
deputy to make sure it doesn’t.”
Tim leaned closer. James wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him tight,
fighting back a tear.
“Have you talked to Rosemary? It’ll drive her crazy to hear about this.”
“I’ll call her as soon as I go to Cancun,” said Jorge. “She doesn’t have to know how serious
it is.”
Tim’s hands started trembling again.
James’s emotions were getting the better of him. “If you could lay down and go to sleep it
would help pass the time. Think you could?”
“I could try.”
“Then try.” James drew a breath and looked around the cell. “We better go. I don’t want to
appear to be taking advantage of that deputy’s generosity. Remember, we’ll be right
across the street. We’ll be checking in over here, even if you don’t see us.”
“Is David and Jake over there, too?”
“Yes. They wanted to come. We thought it’d be best if just the two of us came this time.
Will you be okay now?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we’ll see you in the morning.”
James closed the door quietly when he entered the outer office. He approached the deputy
while Jorge waited in the middle of the room.
“We’ve taken a room across the street. We’ll be back in the morning, around nine o’clock.
I hope you’re contacted the constable by then. We want to cooperate and we expect the
same courtesy from you.”
“No problem, Señor.”
James wanted to find out if they would have access to the phone. Plus he wanted to talk to
Shasha. “I need to make a call.”
The deputy’s eyes fell on the phone, his fingers drumming the desk. His eyes shifted to the
twenty-dollar bill James laid by the phone.
“That ought to cover the charges.”
The deputy pushed the phone across the desk and picked up the twenty.
♦ ♦ ♦
Two hours after Shasha got home from New York, she received the call. Linda was there
for ice cream and coffee. They had been sitting at the kitchen table, talking about Sally’s
outrageously funny behavior in New York. Linda watched her best friend pick up the phone
and put it to her ear. Instant alarm swept over Shasha’s face.
“What did you say? …Tim’s in jail! …What? I can barely hear you. …You can’t talk?
…The only phone where? ...James! You’re scaring me! …Why do you want me to tell
Linda? Where’s David? …None of this is making sense. James, just tell me what’s going
on. …Of course you have to get Tim out, but… You can’t talk right now! James, I don’t
understand. You sound worried. I don’t understand what’s going on. …I heard that. You
can’t talk on that phone. Dammit, James. You’re scaring the shit out of me. When will you
be home? …What’s he in jail for? …Yes, I’ll tell Linda. …No! Don’t hang up yet. …I know
you can’t talk, but… Don’t hang up!”
Shasha’s arm fell limp at her side, the phone still in her hand. She stared into space,
stunned.
Linda approached and stood next to her, anxious to hear what must have been dire news.
She took her friend’s arm. “Shasha,” she said with a quiet sense of dread. “What
happened? Are they okay?”
Shasha seemed lost in a state of confusion.
Linda guided her to the table and got her to sit down. She sat on the edge of the chair next
to her, staring nervously, waiting to hear what James had said. A few moments later she
asked again. “Shasha, tell me what James said.”
Shasha’s blank expression changed to bewildered concern. She looked at Linda,
wondering how to explain a conversation that she herself did not comprehend. “He
sounded worried.”
“What did he say?”
“Tim’s in jail.”
“My God!” The fact that they were in Mexico dawned on her immediately. Like everyone
else, she had heard the horror stories of being arrested there. “What did he get arrested
for?”
Shasha shook her head. “They’re planning to get him out somehow. Some-thing about the
only phone is in the constable’s office, so he couldn’t talk. Their cell phones don’t work
down there.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’m scared, Linda. Why would Tim
get arrested? What if they arrest James or David?”
Linda shivered. She looked down at the floor. Why hadn’t David called? Why was Tim in
jail? What’s going on down there that James couldn’t simply explain? Linda felt a stab of
panic. She looked back at Shasha.
“His voice,” said Shasha. “I’ve never heard him sound like that before. God! I’m losing my
mind.”
♦ ♦ ♦
James hung up the phone, turned and looked at Jorge, stressed by the panic he heard in
Shasha’s voice. He wished he hadn’t called her.
Jorge could see that the situation was wearing on him. “C’mon. Let’s go get some rest.”
James looked at the deputy with thinly veiled contempt. His eyes reflected everything he
was thinking. He turned and the two of them walked back out to the street. It was mid-
afternoon. Across the way, a woman trailed by two children and carrying two bags of
groceries was making her way down the sidewalk. James figured there must a store in one
of the buildings that Jake didn’t know about.
In the tavern, David and Jake had finished their second beer.
“Any luck?” David asked when James and Jorge approached the table.
“It’s frustrating,” said James. “You feel so damn helpless. We should find out something
tomorrow.”
Caught off-guard, David’s train-of-thought shifted. There were moments, most often right
out of the blue, when he realized just how much he loved James. He was staring at him
now, thinking about how beautiful he was, thinking about how much he would love to hold
him. “You guys gonna have a beer?”
“I’d rather to go to the room,” said James. “I feel worn out.”
David quietly stood up.
Jorge took his chair. “I’ll stay here and have a beer with Jake.”
David and James went to their room. Larger than they expected, but stark, the bare
wooden floor creaked as they entered. One full size bed with exposed steel springs and
covered with cotton sheets, a small wooden side table with an oil lamp, one wooden chair,
and another table against the wall opposite the bed with a wash basin and pitcher of water
were the furnishings. While James undressed, David opened the shuttered windows on the
street side wall and the dim room filled with sunlight.
He took off his shirt and tossed it on the chair and stood in the window looking out. An
older model Chevrolet passed on the street below. Two men stood talking on the corner
across from the hotel. The warm air felt good on his damp chest, though he was beginning
to feel gritty. A couple of days in a setting like this would have seemed like a romantic
adventure had it not been for the circumstances. It would be impossible to relax until they
were all boarding a plane.
“Who could’ve predicted this?” James said from the bed.
David turned to look at him. James had stripped down to his underwear and was lying on
the bed, propped up on the two pillows. “You mean this trip?”
“Well, that and the way summer is ending.”
David shrugged. “Sometimes I think we made a mistake. Then I think back over the
summer, the time we all spent together. I can’t regret having those guys as friends.”
“Me either,” said James. “Now the future seems so uncertain.”
David walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. The springs squeaked and gave under
his weight. He was staring at his lover. “In a way it doesn’t, not for you and me. I just didn’t
realize I could feel this way about someone other than Linda.” He paused as that familiar
emotion swelled in his chest. Then he reached out and ran his hand up James’s leg and let
it rest on his thigh. “Sometimes things seem so complicated.”
“We’re living two lives. What do you expect?”
David looked into his eyes for a moment. “You think we should tell them, don’t you?”
“Can we go on the way it is? Can we live the rest of our lives sneaking around, hiding our
feelings, lying, being married to women who are living a completely different reality?”
“How do you think they would take it?”
“I don’t know.” He looked down at David’s hand on his thigh. “They’d be hurt, angry. But
they love us as much as we love them. They’d realize that. They’d eventually understand
our feelings for each other will never impact our love for them.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“I have to believe it. We can’t leave things the way they are now.”
David stood, kicked off his sandals and stepped out of his jeans. Wearing his briefs, he
got on the bed and straddled James on his knees, his haunches resting on James’s thighs.
He ran his hands up James’s ribs and over his chest, and then leaned forward and kissed
him.
His emotions were in the kiss: their past and future together, the feelings that were warming
his loins, their trust in each other and their unconditional love; all reflected by the passion of
wet mouths and lips. He felt the irresistible impulses of instinct; a desire took hold that
transformed the unadorned room into a private haven for two despairing men.
David lifted his hips, reached down and pushed his hand under the waistband of James’s
underwear. He took hold of the black cock, firm and warm in his hand, wet and slippery on
the end. He wanted to feel it inside; it seemed the small drop of semen made it slippery
enough to go in. He slipped off his underwear, positioned himself and rubbed it on his
anus. A moment later it pushed through. Overwhelmed by a sense of urgency, he wanted it
all the way in. Working it with one hand, he parted the left cheek with the other and the cock
sank further in, ever so slowly until he felt the black curls of pubic hair crushed between
them. Sensations from the void below his belly radiated through his entire body: the warmth
of it, the stretching, the thick diameter that made him feel full.
It was more than feeling a man inside—it was being with this man in this way, this act that
defined something that couldn’t be described with words. It was the body’s poetry
capturing the mind and freeing the soul, reducing the world, as it was now, to nothing
beyond the four walls of this room. It was two men expressing what had been revealed by
the kiss, exposing everything that existed or could exist in their hearts; two men who, a few
minutes later, were bathed by a tropical breeze whispering through the window and fast
asleep in each other’s arms.
Other than meeting the others later in the day to check on Tim, then a dinner of beans and
tamales at the tavern, James and David spent the rest of the day together in bed. They
contemplated the direction their summer had gone, coupled with worrying about Tim sitting
alone in that cell. And always, in the back of their minds, was the prospect of talking to their
wives when they got home. It was beginning to seem like a foregone conclusion. And they
made love, perhaps more desperately than ever before, perhaps with even more passion,
as if doing so represented an unspoken promise. Finally, with the warm night air wafting
through the window, on sheets damp with the smell of their bodies, they fell asleep with their
legs entwined.
David woke up first. First light had brightened the room. He heard a passing car, then the
sound of children’s voices on the street below. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, he
reflected on the joy of falling asleep and then waking up with James.
James, facing David on his side, woke up a few minutes later. He stared at the man
beside him for a moment, smiling inwardly at his morning appearance: the fussy blond hair,
the stubble across his chin. Then: “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.”
James scooted closer and draped his arm across David’s chest. He liked the way this felt
nice. “Are you usually this quiet in the morning?”
“My mind’s wandering. I’m worried about Tim; then I’m thinking about how wonderful this
feels; then I’m thinking about Linda. I’m vacillating be-tween euphoria and madness.”
At nine o’clock James entered the deputy’s office with Jorge. Though Tim had never been
far from his mind, having David all to himself for that much time seemed to have taken their
feelings for each other to a new level, one difficult to acknowledge and even more difficult to
talk about. Even now he was distracted by it. The smell of David’s body was still in his
nostrils.
The deputy looked up with a grin of accomplishment when they walked in. James hoped it
meant headway in Tim’s release. Jorge seemed even less patient than he had been the
day before, which made James feel anxious. He wasn’t certain about Jorge’s threshold of
tolerance under such circumstances.
“Hola, my friends. I contacted the constable last night.” He was obviously proud of himself.
“I think we can get this matter resolved. He’ll be here at noon.”
Jorge stepped forward and stopped just in front of the Deputy’s desk. He stared at the man
with contempt for a moment, which put a blush of unease on the deputy’s face. “Hand me
the keys.” Jorge’s tone was cold and demanding, even threatening.
The deputy noticeably shrank back in his chair. James thought he looked scared. He
wondered if intimidation would be effective in this situation, when in reality the deputy and
his cohorts held the upper hand. Perhaps, where law is nothing more than a mockery, the
deputy realized it could work both ways. Then, too, if intimidation could give them an edge,
Jorge was the right candidate to deliver it. The deputy pulled open a drawer, took out the
keys and handed them over.
Tim was standing in the middle of the cell. It looked like he had not slept during the night.
The angst etched on his face was no less heart-wrenching than the day before. He looked
like a wilting rose in a garden of weeds.
Jorge entered the cell and wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulder. James stood to the
side. The small space smelled of urine.
“We’ll see the constable at noon,” Jorge told him. “This should be over soon. It won’t take
long to go in and get the money.”
Tim closed his eyes and took a few breaths. “I’ll pay you back. Soon as I can. I just want
out of here.”
James’s shoulders tightened. He could hardly stand it. He feared his own anger, welling
as it was to go back into the front room and beat the deputy senseless.
They did what they could to comfort their friend before returning to the tavern to meet David
and Jake, who were eating some sort of breakfast hash.
“We have almost three hours to kill,” James said as he took the chair next to David. “That
any good?”
“Not bad,” said David. “Potatoes and pork.”
James looked at Jorge. “I thought you were going to attack that asshole there for a minute.”
Jorge groaned and shook his head. “It’s not over yet,” he said half jokingly. “Calling us
friends crawled all over me.”
The boy approached. James and Jorge ordered the hash and coffee.
“We still don’t know how much they want?” said Jake.
“I’m guessing twenty-five thousand will satisfy them,” said James. “We’ll find out when the
constable gets here.”
“I figure that’s low,” said Jorge. “They know they have us. Between twenty-five and a
hundred is more like it.” He looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll
pay it and get the hell out of here.”
“That broke my heart when Tim promised to pay you back.”
Jorge shrugged. “Tim is Tim, even under these circumstances.”
“What should we do for three hours?” Jake asked.
David ran his hand up his arm. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to wash off
some of this grit.”
“Did you see that old fashioned pump in the latrine? Must be their only source for water.”
“We’ll have to wait until we get home.”
“At least we have those porcelain bowls in the room. Better than nothing.”
After they finished eating, they took their bags up to the room. David took the porcelain
pitcher to the communal latrine, pumped it full of water and took it back to the room. James
got out his novel, sprawled out on the bed and awaited his turn to shave. After he shaved
and got back in bed, the book remained closed. David had been watching him from
behind—all it took to get them started.
The constable arrived in a shiny new Cadillac, replete with enough gadgets and chrome to
match his overfed, obnoxious demeanor. David found him revolting. So did the others.
The so-called constable had brought along a rather cretin-like goon, most likely a body
guard. They had gathered in the deputy’s office: the constable taking his place behind the
desk, the goon beside him, the deputy standing alert near the heavy wood door. Jorge had
taken the initiative to address the issue, standing stoically in front of the desk, James
beside him, David leaning against a nearby wall, Jake a bit closer to the front door.
“A serious charge, Señor, murder,” said the constable, looking down at a single sheet of
paper. It looked like some kind of a form.
Jorge’s response was sharp and direct. “Let’s see if we can settle this quickly.”
The constable shrugged and looked him in the eye, as if sizing up an opponent. “What do
you propose, Señor?”
“It’s your call, Mister. Make it reasonable and we’ll have it resolved by this time tomorrow.”
“Reasonable? The charge is murder. I know the victim’s family. They will expect justice.”
“You picked the wrong man to fuck with, Señor Hernandez. This gets resolved today or I go
to Mexico City and speak with the proper authorities. Your government doesn’t condone
what’s taking place here. They will not want to see it in American newspapers. I’m willing
to cooperate with you only because I don’t want to waste a lot of time. Resolve it today,
now, or tomorrow I get in touch with my contacts.”
Hernandez glanced at all four men. None of them looked friendly or intimidated. He picked
up the paper and read it over a second time. “I asked you, Señor, what do you have in
mind?”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars and you tear up that paper.”
“Señor. twenty-five thousand, for…”
“Twenty-five thousand,” Jorge emphasized angrily.
“Seventy-five,” Hernandez responded.
“I can raise fifty. Not a nickel more.”
Hernandez pondered the offer, tapping his stubby fingers on the desktop. He looked up,
apparently satisfied. “When?”
“I’ll be back by this time tomorrow.”
James let out a small breath of relief. He immediately approached the deputy. “Open the
door.”
The others followed James in.
Tim had heard their voices and knew they were there. He was standing at the bars with a
hopeful expression.
James smiled the moment their eyes met. “It’s settled, buddy. We’ll be on a plane by
tomorrow afternoon.”
Jorge added: “I’ll be leaving in a few minutes to get the money. Just a matter of finding a
bank and getting it wired down. Shouldn’t take long.”
Tim might have grinned, but he couldn’t. Nothing more than weary relief appeared on his
face.
Jorge set off for Cancun. He pulled to the side of the road to call Michelle as soon as his
phone indicated a signal. Hearing her voice reminded him of what he and the others had
been talking about. He couldn’t imagine facing her with a confession. He told her about
what happened to Tim and asked her to be available in case something came up.
In Cancun, before getting a room, he stopped at the airport to make arrangements for a
private plane. He wanted no delays in getting out of Mexico after Tim’s release. Soon after
he was in the hotel room, he picked up the phone to call Rosemary. She had heard only a
partial story about Tim’s victimization from Linda.
“But why is he in jail?” she asked. Her voice was panicky.
“It’s nothing serious. He’s doing just fine. Of course it’s all a mistake. We just have to put
up with a little red tape to get him out. The others are with him now. I’m in Cancun to make
arrangements for our flight home. Everything’s been resolved. I called because I didn’t
want you to be worried.”
“Can’t I talk to him on the phone?” she pleaded, now tearful.
“I’m afraid not. It’s a foreign country and they have certain rules. But please don’t worry.
We have everything under control. He knows I planned to call you and he sends his love.
♦ ♦ ♦
Linda had stayed all night at Shasha’s house. They had fallen asleep in arm-chairs
watching a late night movie. During breakfast neither of them knew what to say to reassure
the other. What little information they received from James, coupled with his anxious tone,
had come together in their minds to form nothing but confusion.
When the phone rang, Linda answered it and heard Jorge’s voice.
“Jorge!”
“I thought I dialed Shasha’s number,” he said.
“You did. I’m at her house. Where are you, Jorge?”
“Right now, I’m in Cancun. Tomorrow I’ll go back to the village and get Tim out of jail.”
“We’re worried sick!”
“That’s what I figured. James couldn’t talk when he called.”
“I wanna know what the hell’s going on.”
“Nothing to worry about. I was afraid you got the wrong picture since James couldn’t speak
freely.”
“Wrong picture!” she said with little patience. “What he said sounded awfully bleak to us.”
“Tim’s arrest was a mistake. The situation looked a little grim at first, but it’s been
straightened out. We should be on our way back home by tomorrow afternoon.”
Linda felt a sense of anger. “Listen Jorge, tell me what’s going on. Everything. Don’t beat
around the bush or I’ll wring your fucking neck!”
Jorge hesitated before he replied. “I understand. I told the others I wouldn’t tell you what
actually happened, but I can see that wouldn’t be fair. Tim was arrested for murder.”
“Murder? That’s insane.”
“It’s an extortion attempt. We’re dealing with corrupt officials who wouldn’t hesitate to lock
Tim away for the rest of his life if we don’t cooperate. That’s why I’m in Cancun. To get the
money to pay them off.”
“My God!”
“We have no choice.”
“Are you crazy! Haven’t you heard of lawyers? Due process? What if they arrest you for
attempted bribery?”
“Linda, it’s not like that. If we tried to handle this legally, Tim would be sentenced. Any trial
would be a mockery.”
Suddenly overwhelmed by desperation, Linda pleaded: “Jorge, please, I have to talk to
David. What if something goes wrong?”
“I wish I knew what to say to comfort you. David and the others stayed in the village.
There's no way to talk to him there. They wanted to stay close to Tim. We’ve considered
the alternatives. This is the quickest way to get him out. If it had been David, we’d be
doing the same for him.”
She didn’t know what to say. The unyielding tone of Jorge’s voice left little room for debate.
“I talked to Rosemary,” he continued. “She knows there’s a problem, but I truly believe it’s
best she doesn’t learn the severity of it. Since Shasha’s there with you, can I depend on
you to fill her in, and call Sally?”
“Yes,” she said, followed by a long silence.
“Linda. I have to go. Is there anything else I can say?”
“No.”
She heard a click. After allowing the news soak in for a moment, she unsteadily walked
back to the table and sank into a chair across from Shasha. The situation was worse than
she had assumed. Both wives were at a complete loss. Though Shasha had not heard the
details, she heard enough to grasp the seriousness of the circumstances. All they could do
was wait it out and worry.
After the initial shock abated, Linda related everything Jorge had said. What now? It was
supposed to be a simple camping trip. How could this have happened? What was to
become of their husbands, engaged in plans to bribe Mexican officials? The waiting
already felt like a helpless drought.
Shasha began to sob. “James doesn’t know anything about Mexican law!” she wailed. “He
could get into trouble! What if they arrest him, too?”
“Shasha, listen to me. David doesn’t know about these things either, but you didn’t hear
Jorge’s voice. He didn’t sound the slightest bit worried. He must know how to handle these
things. I hate it as much as you do, but what if it had been David or James? Wouldn’t we
be glad they were there willing to do whatever it takes to get them out of that country?”
Shasha looked at Linda through her tears. “But something could happen. I wouldn’t know
what to do.”
Linda took her hand. “We have no choice. They’ll be okay … I’m certain of it.” She gazed
away absently, repeating vaguely: “I’m certain of it.”
A few minutes later Linda picked up the phone to call Michelle.
“So he told you the whole story,” said Michelle.
“Well, I sort of insisted. Afraid I wasn’t very pleasant with him.”
“Trust me, he understands,” Michelle assured her.
“This scares me, Michelle, but Jorge sounded so confident.”
“Yes, I know. He’s never intimidated by anything. I know how scary this seems, but Jorge
really does know what he’s doing. He’s been involved in this kind of thing before. I’m sure
they’ll be coming home by tomorrow.”
Michelle’s unruffled attitude reassured Linda. She was glad she called. “Listen Michelle, I’
m at Shasha’s house. Why don’t you join us?”
“I’d love to, but Jorge asked me to stay here until he got home, in case he needs something
done on this end.”
“I see. So you’re on duty. Will you call if you hear anything?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll talk soon.”
Linda dialed Sally’s number next. It took less than three minutes to explain everything Jorge
said. When she finished talking, she heard a long silence on the phone.
“Sally...”
“You’re not kidding about this?”
“No. Of course not,” said Linda.
“My husband is mixed up in paying off some Mexican deputy to get Tim out of jail?”
“Yes.”
Another silence, then a loud sigh.
“Sally...”
“If they don’t throw his ass in there with Tim, I’m gonna fuck his brains out when he gets
back!”
Linda held the phone out and looked at it, then returned it to her ear. “Are you all right,
Sally?”
“I certainly am. Just tearing up a little. He’s down there sticking by a friend. All of them
are. I can’t tell you how much I love those men.”
“You’re taking it well.”
“No, I’m not, but what can I do? Right now I’m so proud of my husband I’m about to burst out
in tears.”
Linda looked at Shasha and shrugged. “I’m glad I called,” she said into the phone. “You’ve
made me feel better.”
“Well, I’ve been down a lot of roads in my life, every one of them with Jake. No regrets.
This is a time to have confidence in what he’s doing. They’re all something special.”
“Sally, I’m at Shasha’s house. Why don’t you join us?”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
♦ ♦ ♦
After a fitful night’s sleep, Jorge went a bank the first thing the next morning. One call to his
secretary was all it took. She would arrange for the money to arrive within the hour. He
went back out to the Rover to wait.
♦ ♦ ♦
David stood near the hotel room window staring down at the constable’s office. Behind
him, sitting up against the pillows in bed, James had fallen asleep. Their passion during
the night had kept them awake almost to dawn. After breakfast, Jake had gone to the jail to
sit with Tim. The waiting felt like some cruel form of torture.
Was this the price of betrayal, a just reward for a man who acts on his carnal urges, this
waiting, this rat chewing at the raw lining inside his stomach, this morning in hell not
knowing what might happen? That, plus what waited for them back home if they decided to
confess to their wives. Must be the mind’s way of guiding a man in the right direction,
relentlessly collecting these molecules of guilt that push him closer and closer to the edge,
until he succumbs to the right thing. Why? Why, by virtue of responding to nature’s call,
must life be so complicated? It was a powerful lesson to learn, how deceiving one’s wife
leaves a man facing his own downfall. The more he thought about it, the more truth seemed
like the antidote. He had shared a bed with four men. He had fallen in love with his best
friend. Was it time to bring this secret life out of the shadows?
Jorge pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel two hours later. All four of them were in the
constable’s office within twenty minutes, envelope thick with hundred dollar bills in hand.
Hernandez stood to the side, his hands clasped behind his back as the deputy counted the
money at the desk. Jorge, standing in the front entrance, leaning against the doorframe,
observed. He assumed these people must also be involved in drugs, unless extorting
tourists produced enough income to buy gaudy cars and big houses in Cancun.
The deputy led Tim out of the cell as soon as the money was counted. The moment he saw
his friends, the fear in his eyes turned into a smile that quickly found its way to his lips.
Their bags were already packed and loaded in the Rovers. After a reflective drive to the
airport, five men found themselves boarding a private plane.
It was a comfortable jet, designed to allow them to sit in chairs that faced each other. They
had been provided with snacks and a refrigerator stocked with soft drinks and beer.
Bottles of wine filled a rack on the front bulkhead. With a smooth takeoff behind them, they
settled in for the flight. Tim still looked a little disoriented.
David leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “That was fucking
unbelievable! How do they get away with things like that?”
Tim was looking at Jorge. “I don’t know what to say. It’ll take a while, but I’ll spend the rest
of my life repaying you if I have to.”
Jorge lowered his head, then looked back at Tim. “Why did I know you would say
something like that? I’ll say this once ... after that I hope I never hear the subject brought up
again. You would’ve done the same for me. If you have to do something, buy me a cup of
coffee when we get back to Dallas.”
“It cost you fifty thous...”
“Does it matter what it cost? What would you have been willing to spend if it had been me
in that jail?”
“But...”
“Tim, please, just buy me a cup of coffee.” Jorge looked at David. “You look a little
peeked, my friend.”
The affects of adrenaline had exhausted David. Everything had happened so fast, so
dauntingly, that his mind was running with a confusion of pictures. They had been facing a
risky unknown and the reality of that had caught up with him. “What if it went wrong? They
could have killed us. And they would have gotten away with that, too.”
“Not likely,” Jorge replied confidently. “They were just after some easy money. They know
what kind of chances they can take.”
“They’re corrupt,” Jake stated flatly. “They deserve to be hung. They’re ruining their own
country.”
Jorge reached over and squeezed his leg. “Next time we’ll go backpacking in west Texas.”
David sat back and stretched his legs out and looked down at his feet. Be-neath the relief
to be on the plane, beneath Jorge’s attempt to play down the event, there was an underlying
lava flow in all of them. He glanced at James, who was staring absently at the deck. He
knew intuitively what was bothering him. “What are you thinking about?”
James looked up. “We’ll be home in a couple of hours. We haven’t decided.”
David glanced at the others. They knew what James meant.
“I can’t stand what I’m doing to my marriage.” The horror in Shasha’s voice haunted him
from the moment he made the call from the constable’s office. Summer’s events were
clashing in his mind—the doubts, the lies and deception, what they had just gone through to
get Tim out of jail. There were times he felt close to a breakdown. “I wake up thinking
about it. Shasha lying in bed beside me, trusting me, believing in me. It’s too much. I can’t
even look her in the eye anymore. We use to sit and talk. Now I can’t focus on what she’s
saying for more than thirty seconds.” He sounded like a hungry prisoner that couldn’t
stretch his arm through the bars far enough for a plate of food. He stared across the cabin,
frightened, despairing. “I can’t lie to her anymore. It’s like I’ve pushed her away from the
center of my life.” He hesitated before going on. “I just want to talk to her. Tell her who I
am. Ask her to love me in spite of it, in spite of everything.”
No one spoke for a while. High over the Gulf of Mexico, like lost souls passing through a
lonely void, in the dimly lit cabin, each of them felt the weight of his painful words. The
muted roar of the engines had grown vague in their ears. It was gloom; it seemed
unending, the kind of gloom that somehow threatened to relegate their self-esteem to that
of selfish and thoughtless men. Not one of them had found a way to lie to his wife without
self-loathing. Though each man on some level considered doing so, it wasn’t until this mo-
ment the thought of actually making the confession crawled out to take its place on their
shoulders. Their bisexuality, a spiritual and physical gift when they were together, was also
a curse. Now, locked in forward motion and buffeted on currents and up-drafts, they
contemplated being truthful with their wives.
Jake finally broke the silence. “I’d tell Sally if it wouldn’t affect the rest of you.”
Silence again fell over the womb-like space. Jake had stated what had become
inescapable. His saying it without reservation seemed to have a purging effect. They could
not go on with their secret lives—guilt had destroyed any hope of that. To dull the edge of
self-contempt, they could only replace the lies with truth; then attempt to repair their
damaged vows. Just talk, be honest, tell their women who they are. It would change their
lives, but at least it would lay the right foundation to start over, to rebuild trust. Simply
contemplating it and talking about it openly brought on a sense of relief. Each of them felt
it. The weight of their guilt already began to lift.
“Don’t know how she’ll take it,” Jake went on to say, “but I’d like to know what it feels like to
be loved for who I really am.”
David sighed. “Knowing you guys has been a godsend for me. Our summer together
completed my life. Problem is we’ve learned you can’t reconcile your secrets by lying to
your wife. I lay awake at night hating myself for what I’m doing. No matter how natural it
seems to me, lying about it makes it seem wrong.” He looked at James. “If you want to talk
to Shasha, I think you should. I’ve thought about telling Linda a hundred times, and each
time it got harder to put it out of my mind. The personal risk isn’t what stopped me. I
couldn't risk outing you guys.”
“We all feel the same way,” said Tim. “We tried, but we’ll never be able to justify what we’re
doing. David’s right. We should tell them.”
Jorge stretched his legs out and leaned back in the chair reflectively. “To this day my life’s
biggest challenge was winning Michelle’s heart. When we met she didn’t trust me. Said
things come too easy for me. Said my goals went no further than the next conquest. She
might have been right, except for how badly I wanted her. No other woman existed. We
saw each other for a year before she decided to spend the night with me. That morning,
when we woke up, she warned me not to take the evening too seriously. My heart sank. It
took another year to get her to admit she loved me. We finally got married. …That’s what I
have at risk.”
Jorge looked at the others for a moment before he continued. “Gentlemen, our little
misadventure in Mexico reminded us of how much we love the women we married. We’re
sitting here thinking about how guilty we feel about lying to them. It’s gotten harder for me,
too. Telling them will likely end what we have together, plus jeopardize how they feel about
us as husbands. I’m sure you all know that. As for myself, as much as I own and control, the
one thing I don’t own or control is Michelle. How she’ll react scares me more than you
know. But the subject is on the table. Like Tim said, apparently we all feel the same way.
In spite of the consequences, we can’t go on being men who lie to our wives.”
James closed his eyes and his head fell back against the chair. “Then we tell them,” he
said resolutely. “As soon as we get home.” He paused. His gaze drifted absently. As
surely as the decision lifted his guilt, the reality of facing his wife began to sink in. Like a
man praying for a reprieve before the long walk to the gallows, he added: “And hope we
can find a way to make them understand.”
“They’re friends,” Jake said. “We’re all close. Maybe that’ll help get us through it.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Jorge.
David said: “When I first thought about the possibility of five men coming together, I knew
we’d have to be in sync psychologically. Obviously we are. We’ve deceived our wives and
none of us can live with it. Now were going home to face losing what we had this summer
and possibly everything that’s important to us, all because we let our instincts direct our
decisions. There’s never been a winning solution for any of us.”
Tim had another concern. “Are we confessing because it’s right to be honest, or simply
unloading our guilt at their expense?”
“Could be a little of both,” Jorge replied. “Fact is, we’re all fortunate enough to have their
unconditional trust. This summer we forfeited that honor. We may be unloading our guilt,
but we also respect their right to know the truth.”
It was a somber flight to Love Field. They sat in silence until the craft touched down on the
tarmac, where the plane stopped less than a hundred yards from the terminal. Jorge
ducked into the cockpit to thank the pilot as the others started down the unfolded steps. A
tanker truck approached to refill the fuel tanks.
With their gear slung on their backs, five men walked solemnly side-by-side in the pre-dawn
toward the terminal. Their summer had come to an end and already it seemed like an
obscure dream. They had wanted to believe their promiscuity would be a simple solution.
Instead, it turned out to be more complicated than any of them could have foreseen.
Together they walked through the misty light pondering a future as vague as the mist, for all
that seemed certain was uncertainty. Now they were home, prepared to face a new
chapter. They neared the building, carrying in their hearts something in which they could be
certain—there would be no more lies or deception; and that this particular summer, above
all those past, would live in their minds forever.