1550 Loring Lane - 8. Blizzard Row

Blizzard Row

The first leg of the trip to Iowa had been pleasant enough. The sun was streaming through the scattered fluffy white clouds and Cliff was listening to ‘This American Life’ on Minnesota Public Radio. It was cold out but since this was February in Minnesota that was a given. Cliff hummed along with the musical interludes and all his troubles seemed far away, though not so long ago.

Things changed though and by the time he reached Albert Lea, his program had ended and the snow was beginning to fall. It was just light stuff, nothing to be concerned about, and Cliff clicked off the radio and watched the dormant farmland pass him by. It was a three hour drive from the Cities to his brother’s house. He needed to consider what exactly he would tell him.

It wasn’t good.

“Where do I start?” Cliff said aloud. “Do I start with the affair or Owen leaving me?” ‘Maybe I’ll start with losing my job, my fucking career, my whole damned life,’ he thought.

The snow was coming down more thickly now and the visibility, while still good, was becoming somewhat impaired. The copses of trees alongside the road were covered with thin blankets of snow. The wind had picked up and the gusts blew little drifts across the pavement. It wasn’t sticking yet, simply crossing the highway, but it was definitely getting worse. As Cliff crossed into Iowa, he hoped the weather held off until he could get to Stan’s. This was feeling a bit dicey.

Cliff turned up the heat as he shivered. His mood, as well as the weather, was getting worse.

When he crossed the Minnesota/Iowa border, he could barely see the fields on his right. The snow was coming down faster and the wind had picked up. Cliff considered exiting but he wasn’t feeling up to gambling and the geriatric ward that was Diamond Joe’s casino. If he could get past Mason City, it could clear up. The weather report had said it was a narrow band of snow.

Just then, a semi raced by him and in the wake a swirl of snow completely blocked his view of the road. “Fuck!” he yelled and stepped on the brake slowing his car. “You asshole!” The shaking of the car from the wind off the truck scared him. His heart was racing and he could hear his heart beat in his ears. Just like he felt when he’d gotten the phone call from that goddamn lawyer.

“The little bitch played me,” Cliff yelled and he pounded the steering wheel. “He took everything away from me.”

His fury left him quickly though. The snow started to clear a little and he could see several feet in front of him. That’s when his rational mind took over. Getting mad and pretending it was someone else’s fault wasn’t going to help. His mind calmed leaving him ashamed at his unreasonable outburst.

Cliff didn’t like losing control. It made him feel small and like a lunatic.

“He didn’t play you,” he said to the snow. “That’s not what happened and if you don’t deal in facts, you’ll never get your head straight.”

Speaking out loud seemed to help. Hearing himself say irrational things about the situation was working. Maybe if he practiced telling the story, it would get settled in his head. Cliff could calmly tell his tale of stupidity to his brother without breaking down into a puddle of tears. He was a mature man for heaven’s sake, not some kid.

“It started with the phone call,” he said. Just saying it out loud made him realize it wasn’t the beginning of his story but the beginning of the end.

“It started as a summer fling,” he said. That rang true. It started when he’d hired Hamilton.

Hamilton was an overly eager grad student who applied to work for him over the summer. His credentials seemed sound but they weren’t what got his attention. Other applicants for the summer internship had much better academic records. What those other applicants didn’t have was Hamilton’s beautiful ass.

“Might as well admit it to myself,” Cliff said as an SUV passed and once again the snow obscured his view though not for as long. “I fell for a young guy’s bubble butt.”

It was hard to admit. He was a fully tenured associate professor of sociology in his early forties. Cliff was happily married to his husband Owen. They’d been together over 18 years and they were happy. They had a full life with long vacations, positions on theater boards and the respect of the community. Cliff and Owen had a life many people wanted to live. It was perfect.

Then Cliff spots a lovely behind and becomes the most clichéd of things; a man having an affair with a younger man. It was pathetic that he, a man of letters, would become embroiled in a scandal this cheap and tawdry. It sickened him.

But, Hamilton wasn’t just a cute butt. He was very handsome with thick brown hair he wore shortly cropped short in a crew cut. Cliff’s hand ached to touch it.

Hamilton was athletic and muscular and had clear blue eyes that danced in the light. He was funny and could banter with Cliff about other professors and students. Hamilton was charming and witty and he was as dumb as a fucking stump.

Cliff knew from the first week after Memorial Day the kid couldn’t do the work. Hamilton struggled with even the most fundamental equations and formulae. He’d mess up the tables, screw up the spreadsheets, and pollute the data with his incompetence.

Hamilton had an ass that wouldn’t quit though. When he walked by Cliff, the firm flesh would twitch and tremble with such a tantalizing allure. It drove him to distraction, a distraction he entertained. Instead of ignoring his assistant, he would deliberately follow the kid down the hall. He tormented himself watching as the guy’s ass beckoned to him. No doubt, Cliff’s tongue had been hanging out of his mouth.

A honk broke Cliff out of his remembrances. The snow was blowing much worse now. A truck behind him was passing and the swirl was worse than before. He slowed down a little more. Cliff could barely see ten yards ahead of him. When he looked at the speedometer, he saw he was only going 30 miles per hour yet it seemed too fast for the conditions.

As he passed a grove of trees on his right, the visibility got much better. The trees seemed to stop the snow from flying so thick. Cliff pressed on the accelerator. He remembered the night it began.

It was in the middle of June and Hamilton was straightening some papers and filing others. Cliff recalled watching the man with such hunger and longing. He had an easy air about him and it seemed his assistant would get quite close for no real reason. Hamilton smelled simply divine that night, a mixture of sweat and something almost soapy. It drove Cliff nuts thinking about how the young man’s hair would feel. How would Hamilton taste? Those thoughts wove a spell in his head.

That was the night he fell off the ledge and into the abyss. As he fell asleep with Owen’s arms around him, Cliff knew he had to have the answers to his questions. He needed to taste the nectar of the young man. It was driving him mad. That was it. He was done for.

The first time had been amazing. The second had been good, but not really as passionate as he’d imagined. By the third time, he’d realized this was a mistake. Hamilton was a very attractive man but he wasn’t doing it for him. Cliff liked the idea of Hamilton but not the actual man. However, affection is a two way street. The intern felt differently.

It was then Cliff began to understand this wasn’t just a roll in the sack. It was a full blown affair and Hamilton was into it. The young man would bring him little presents. He started talking about “us” and making date plans. Hamilton bought Cliff a dozen red roses and put them in the office with a card from him.

All the other staff witnessed his shame.

“Shit,” Cliff said. There were tail lights coming up in front of him. They were pretty damned close too. He slammed on the brakes and slid a little towards the shoulder. The gravel caught on his wheels and he slowed. The tail lights disappeared into the thickening whiteout. It was getting worse.

After a few more yards, the visibility improved again as he drove between two copses of trees. This was better. He’d get off at Mason City and get a hotel room. This wasn’t worth getting into an accident over. Cliff had made enough mistakes these past six months. He didn’t need to make one that could have deadly consequences.

Not that the affair didn’t have horrific enough results.

Cliff tried to get the man to be discrete but that was off the table. So, he avoided Hamilton whenever he could. But, the young man would seek him out and ply him with his charms. His intern would flirt openly and make lurid sexual suggestions in front of his secretary. He’d openly talk about their relationship to the other summer interns.

“I had to fire him,” Cliff said to the trees. “He couldn’t do the job. I had to.”

‘No,’ his conscience said. ‘You hired him for his cute little butt and you fired him because of his mouth.’

Cliff knew he did. He lied to the human resources department and got the little shit canned. After fall semester started, he figured he’d gotten away with it. Owen was oblivious. The department was quiet. All the rumors had faded away. Cliff had actually started to forget about the little summer fling when he suddenly got the call.

“Holy crap!” Cliff shouted as he saw a car and a pickup smashed together in the median to his left. “I need to get off the road.” He figured the exit should be up ahead any minute. He was only going 20 miles an hour at this point. It was hard to measure how many miles he’d traveled when going so slowly.

He strained to see as the snow made his eyes water. Well, it wasn’t just the strain flooding his eyes with tears. It was the next part that was whispering to him. It was urging him to acknowledge how the events played out.

It was like a slow moving nightmare from which he couldn’t awaken.

First, the head of human resources had interviewed him. He lied about Hamilton and his affair.

Then the board called him in. There had been a lawsuit initiated by Hamilton against the University of Minnesota. This was serious because now lawyers were involved. Whenever attorneys are involved it’s bad news. The evidence was damning because not only did his staff and department witness Hamilton’s behavior, they had hard evidence of the affair. Someone had seen them together, in his office, having sex.

The whole time, Cliff never told Owen about the investigation. Instead Cliff told his husband he was thinking of quitting academia and moving into the private sector. It would be more money, less stress, more interesting work. It was all lies but Owen trusted and believed him. He was supportive.

The whiteout was getting worse. Cliff slowed to ten miles an hour and peered into the oblique sheet in front of him. He barely saw the lights twinkling. They weren’t moving. They were sitting there and he was going to hit them.

Cliff swerved onto the shoulder, overcompensating. He felt the front of his car go down. It was wedged into the ditch.

Cliff breathed deeply willing his heart to slow. He was safe. There was nothing he could do except call 911. Get someone out here to help.

He looked around and now saw there were several wrecked cars and a couple of semis lying on their sides. “Christ,” he said. “It’s a pileup.”

Cliff fumbled with his phone and the first entry to come up was “Home.” ‘Oh, no. That’s Owen’s number.’

Owen found out the worst way possible. He heard it on the news. Cliff could still see as his husband’s eyes left the television screen where that big boobed bimbo news reporter told the entire Twin Cities’ audience that Cliff Groveland was fired from the University for sex discrimination involving an employee. She babbled on that Groveland was also being sued by Hamilton Gray.

Owen had looked at him with such shock and terror. Cliff would never forget the words that came out of his husband’s mouth. “How could you?”

Those words were cauterized on his soul. They produced a feeling worse than any fist or curse could inflict.

Because he ‘could.’ He did it. He threw their life away.

Cliff choked back a sob when the impact hit. It pushed him forward as the Escalade slammed into him. His forehead bounced off the steering wheel. It happened so quickly he didn’t know exactly what had occurred. Cliff felt a dizzy rush. It was surreal.

Surreal like when he had to pack his bags and haul them out to the car, leaving his home forever.

Surreal like when he had to confront Hamilton in front of a table of lawyers to get rid of the bogus lawsuit against him.

Surreal like when he was forced to move into the cramped, filthy apartment overlooking Loring Park. It was a disgusting building of cement block and stained yellowing paint.

Cliff just sat there and tears ran down his cheeks. His life had been destroyed all because he liked a man’s jiggling butt.

“Sir, are you okay?” he heard a muffled voice ask.

Cliff shook his head and rolled down the window. It was a man in a blue parka with an Iowa State Trooper insignia on it. His face was covered with a snowmobile mask.

“Are you okay? You’re bleeding,” the mask said.

Cliff touched his forehead and saw the blood. He probed at the wound but it was rather numb. Head wounds always bleed the most. He just shook his head. “I’m okay,” he said.

“Alright. Sir, stay in your vehicle. We’re securing the scene,” the muffled voice said.

Cliff rolled up the window and threw his phone into the passenger seat. He had no one to call. Well, maybe his brother but not right now. Right now he needed to collect his thoughts.

His head felt fuzzy.

Owen announced he wanted a divorce and he wanted Cliff out of the house. Cliff ended up agreeing to whatever terms his now ex-husband asked. Owen got everything except Cliff’s retirement and the car. It was lonely hauling his possessions into the crappy apartment building.

Much of the retirement went to the lawyers. Always the fucking lawyers.

The lawsuit Hamilton had initiated was only to humiliate him. In the end, Cliff’s lawyers explained all the kid wanted was an apology, in person.

It was the worst day of his life. He walked up to Hamilton and looked at him in the eye. The guy was so young, so angry. Those blue eyes flashed with fury as Cliff mumbled an apology. The words the intern spouted back to him were hate-filled.

“I loved you! You know that? I was totally in love with you and you used me. I was nothing more than a hole for you to fill. You are pathetic you piece of shit. How dare you promise me a life together and then fire me!”

Cliff shook his head and kept saying he was sorry. He’d done those things. He had promised Hamilton a life with him. Cliff had lied and said he and Owen were over. He’d lied to the young man promising over and over they were perfect for each other. He was nothing but a mass of lies all to get a chance to touch that soft brown hair and quivering ass.

Cliff realized he was a bastard and it really stung. He just sat in the car with the snow starting to settle down and cried.

He was “that guy.”

********************

After the officer got his name and information, they helped him to the ambulance. He was in shock, shivering in the cold of his own depravity and loneliness. Cliff had nothing left in him. Nothing was left but an empty vessel.

“What took so long?” Officer McGreavy said to his colleague.

“The guy was having a nervous breakdown right there in front of me. He was crying about how he lost his husband and his career. He kept saying he threw it all away. It was pretty creepy.”

“That guy? Wow, that’s weird,” McGreavy said shaking his head. “Trauma does that.”

“I don’t think it was the accident did it,” the other man said. “I think he was, I don’t know, confessing to me.”

Another man approached the troopers. This one was in black winter gear and had a patch that said ‘Emergency Services – Oliver Mahoney.’

“The man is a mess,” he said to the other two. “He’s freaking out and he’s not even hurt bad.”

“Told me he’d lost his husband and career,” the second one said.

“Typical gay guy,” McGreavy said shuffling through his clipboard. “They’ve got sex on the brain.”

“I guess,” Mahoney said. “He’s pretty broken up about it.”

“Well, just write up the report and we’ll interview him again after he’s treated.”

“Okay,” Trooper Malone said. “Let’s get the Escalade’s information.”

“We’ve got at least six more to go,” McGreavy said. “Time to finish this up.”

One of the men looked down at the report for Clifford Groveland. He read 1550 Loring Lane, Apartment 307, Minneapolis, MN. He wiped a tear from his eye. ‘Why did this hit him so hard?'