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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Cody in Wyoming - 11. Chapter 11


“Babe, I need to shower first. Gimme fifteen. Actually, we can’t leave Butch in the room. I can shower first and head down to pick up some food while you shower; then we can have a leisurely breakfast here in the room.”

“I’d love to, but today’s not gonna be a day of leisure for me. I’ve got a series of meetings scheduled in the AM and one for the PM. Remember when I mentioned it being a working weekend promoting our sheep products? It’s not gonna take much time after today. You gonna be alright spending the morning with Alain?”

“Uh… maybe. By the way, what happened after he surprised us? Did you work things out? Is he gonna be OK spending the morning with me? I mean, he’s never been real comfortable with me. Doesn’t he like me?””

“Yeah, he’s alright. Like I said last night, I don’t think he’s ever actually seen a couple of guys making out. And, Karl, I’m sorry I let you fall asleep alone. That’s really not how I pictured we’d be spending the evening.

“You know, he’s kinda awed by you, actually. He just needs to spend more time with you to relax. But we’re wasting time. Get in the shower and I’ll check on him. We’ve gotta get the day started.”

In the end, the three of us, Alain, Rence and myself, ended up sharing breakfast in the hotel’s cafe. Butch was ‘kenneled’ in my car in the cool basement garage. We’d finished most of our meal and Rence and Alain were chatting about cheese production and a new technique for curing that could add a new type to their product line. I wasn’t paying attention to the shop talk. I’ll admit that I was dreamily remembering Rence’s and my intimacy (i.e. sex… yes, SEX!) earlier that morning.

Rence’s calling my name brought me back to the present. “Karl! Hello-o! When’re you going to be performing again? You think I could come see you?” He popped the last bite of toast into his mouth.

“You’d come see the show? That’d be awesome. The house is kinda torn up getting ready for the move but it would be nice if you could stay for a week or so. And, it would be wonderful to have you see me at the theater.”

“Yeah! So when? I’d have to work things out with my family. You know, covering at the ranch while I’m gone and the like.”

“Well, we’ll be doing ‘Ah, Wilderness’ for four weeks. Opening is August 20, so anytime the following weeks would work. Actually, skip the first weekend. That’s always kinda crazy and I won’t have a lot of free time for us to be together. Maybe if you came towards the end of the run? And plan to be around early in the week when I’m not working. We could get away to… well, I don’t know where. I’ve never really learned much about the area.”

“That’s alright. We don’t really have to go out to have fun, Karl.” He reached onto the table and squeezed my hand just as our waitress approached with a coffee carafe and the bill. She stumbled slightly, made a quick u-turn and headed back to the wait station.

“Ummm, guys…” Alain looked uncomfortable as he stood to leave. “I’ll be in the room when you’re ready.”

“OK, Alain, we’ll be up as soon as we’re squared away here.”

It was quiet for a moment. I looked at Alain’s retreating back and then at Rence. “Did I just miss something?”

“I think we might have offended the waitress.”

“The waitress? Wha? How? We’ve just been sitting here, talking quietly.”

“Karl, I held your hand.”

“You held…? Oh, for Pete’s sake! That’s ridiculous! Do you really think that could have bothered her?”

“I don’t know, but I think it made Alain uncomfortable.”

I hate to think my mouth was agape while I stared at Rence. This so wasn’t California. I may have even sputtered a bit trying to formulate a response.

“Well, Karl, let’s get outta here! And it’s no big deal. A few ruffled feathers aren’t going to hurt anyone.”

We gathered our phones off the tabletop and paid at the counter since our waitress was nowhere in sight.

------------- ~ o ~ -------------

Alain and I walked up the block towards the Jaialdi. Alain had his dance costumes in a garment bag slung over his shoulder. His polite welcome of the previous afternoon had evaporated. Rence had said that Alain was unaffected by catching Rence and me in a clutch with our mouths glued together the previous evening. Then again, Rence had spent several hours talking to Alain instead of joining me in bed, so they must have had something to work out between them. And now, Alain had returned to the laconic character I had originally encountered that frozen night in March when he had driven me on my first visit to Rence’s ranch.

I didn’t, couldn’t, figure how to set him at ease. We had so few shared points of reference that I wasn’t sure what might ease the tension during our walk. Of points of reference, we shared one, Rence.

“So, Alain, how often to you get out to the Y Ranch?”

“Not much.”

“You do work for the ranches, don’t you?”

“Yup.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

“Anything and everything. You name it.”

“Do you live on the Carbon Springs Ranch?”

“Yup.”

“Alain, help me out here. We’re spending the morning together, so let’s see if we can make it pleasant for both of us. Whaddya say?”

He didn’t respond; not a word.

“Ummm… What do you do when you’re not working at the ranch?”

“Read. Hunt.”

“What do you read?”

“I dunno… books, magazines.”

“Do you get out to do stuff away from the ranch?”

“Nope, not much.”

“OK, I give up. I don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist, but I can’t do my part to fix whatever problem we’ve got if you don’t help me out here! I don’t know what’s going on here. Is it because you saw your uncle and me kissing last night?”

Alain stopped abruptly but didn’t turn to face me. He studied the sidewalk about ten feet in front of us. I couldn’t see his face, but when he let out an audible breath I almost heard him rolling his eyes.

“Mr. Ackermann, you really oughta pack up and head back to Hollywood. Don’t get involved with Uncle Rence. And don’t let him get involved with you if you care for him. You don’t belong out here and you’re not gonna get Rence to move out there with you. It would kill my uncle to leave here and it wouldn’t do my family any favors either. If you gotta play at being a rancher in Wyoming, buy a spread up in Jackson like all the other rich movie stars. You’ll never fit in Carbon County. You’d be a danger to yourself and anyone you knew. You can ‘act’ like a rancher, but you’ll never be one. You’d be a joke if you tried.”

He turned to look me directly in the eyes. I saw a tense mask: tight eyes, knit brow, clenched jaw.

“Don’t fuck up his life, just leave. If you don’t, trust me, it’ll get messy.”

He turned and strode away, his long legs taking him into the festival’s thickening crowds.

I don’t know if I had my mouth hanging open. I don’t know if I was obstructing pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. I don’t know if a cloud suddenly covered the sun. Hell, I don’t know if a gorilla in a bikini came tap dancing down the street. I just stood there and felt, well, felt nothing at all. I was stunned. Perplexed – maybe that’s how I felt. I was completely unprepared for his attack. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. Flummoxed; I was flummoxed. That, and I was awash in questions. If Rence and I stayed together, what ‘might get messy’? What or who would make it messy? Had Alain just threatened me? Who was he speaking for? Himself? His mother? His father? Was he speaking for his whole family? Was he actually a homophobe without letting Rence know?

Should I try to find Alain and press him for clarification? Should I call Rence and find out what he was thinking? Should I do as Alain demanded and pack up and leave?

To get out of the jostling on the crowded sidewalk, I stepped out of the flow. I didn’t feel like celebrating any longer. The festive atmosphere clashed with my developing insecurity. I turned against the current of humanity and pushed my way back to the hotel. I collected Butch from the car in the parking garage and I retreated to Rence’s and my hotel room.

Was it really ‘our’ room or was that simply my mistaken, romantic notion? Again, who was Alain speaking for? Not Rence, certainly not Rence. Rence couldn’t have put him up to it. Could he? On arriving in the room, I locked the door connecting the two rooms, then put out the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and bolted the door from the inside before kicking off my shoes and collapsing face down onto the bed, the bed on which Rence and I had shared our passions just hours before. I resigned myself to the amorphous fog of emotionlessness that enveloped me.

I woke for a second time that day and checked my phone: 11 AM or thereabouts, no messages. The retreat to the bedroom had helped. I hate that Alain’s criticism had hooked into the doubts and insecurities that plague me. While I wasn’t certain what my next move should be, I knew I needed to explore the new interpersonal landscape, as treacherous as it might be.

A splash of cold water to my face sharpened my perspective. I collected Butch and we headed downstairs and turned towards the river for a stroll in the peaceful atmosphere along the bank.

There were so many misplace assumptions in Alain’s diatribe. ‘…rich movie stars’? ‘…head back to Hollywood’ ‘… play at being a rancher’? Was that how he saw me, one of the pampered, Volvo driving, liberal elites that the Sarah Palins of the world warned us away from? Did he think of me as a dilettante dude romancing Rence, a bona-fide sheep rancher, just to make my hobby that much more ‘real’? He certainly didn’t see me as seriously interested in his uncle.

What had Rence and he discussed the previous evening, anyway?

Alain’s condemnation had thrown me for a loop, but the walk was doing me good. I was starting to recover. I began to organize myself to confront his tirade. I needed to talk to Rence first to gauge his feelings about me and to get a better idea of Alain: was he given to threats? was he unstable? was he homophobic? were we safe? Rence could give me advice on how to proceed. That, and being with him would calm my nerves.

Butch and I did a quick U turn and headed back towards the hotel. Rence was the key to figuring out Alain’s bizarre behavior. Rence could set me straight (so to speak). I would call him to arrange for lunch together and update him on the frosty weather between Alain and me before he attended his last business meeting of the day.

I was slipping the phone from my pocket when I realized that running to Rence would appear to be tattling. While his advice would help immensely, it would be better to take a risk and confront Alain directly. After arriving at the hotel, I returned Butch to the car deep in the parking garage and headed back into the crowds of the Jaialdi to search for Alain.

The street festival crowd was dense and the atmosphere foreign. Many attendees weren’t even speaking English. I did not feel safe or secure surrounded by rural and small town folk in the middle of the most rabidly right wing state in the nation. I didn’t feel safe at all.

------------- ~ o ~ -------------

I stood at the periphery of an area set aside for performances by the local Basque dance companies. Alain’s group had just finished their performance. It hadn’t been difficult to figure out how to find him: a Jaialdi directory, selecting a dance group from southern Wyoming, finding the venue and showing up and ‘Bob’s your uncle’.

Alain’s dancing was good. His performance of the intricate steps was articulate but his countenance was grim throughout the show. He had the movements down, but he didn’t appear join his dance companions in the dynamism and joy of the choreography. Now, I didn’t think of Alain as a particularly expressive fellow under the best of circumstances, but even an unbiased person would have wondered about the grim fellow out on the dance floor. I don’t consider myself an unbiased person.

As the troupe collected in the backstage area, I threaded through the audience to intercept Alain before he disappeared. While he wasn’t looking exactly happy, he was conversing casually with his friends. I took the risk and walked up to him while he gathered his paraphernalia and I brazened it out, giving him a hearty greeting.

“Alain, great show. You really are good!”

He stopped wiping the sweat off his forehead to look up but then went back to silently packing his garment bag. I foundered momentarily before rallying, “Introduce me to your friends!”

I had made enough of a commotion that his friends on either side looked up with open expressions, ready for an introduction. Though I trapped him into being civil, I didn’t feel sorry for him. He shot me an irritated glance and then stood and gestured to the rather plain boy on his right who had briefly stumbled through the steps of the last dance, “Chuck, Karl.”

The boy mumbled something and looked abashed, probably reliving his lapse.

To the rather masculine young woman at his left who had danced with a quickness that belied her thick waist and chunky calves, he followed with, “Cat, this is Karl.”

“Cat, Chuck, it’s nice to meet you. This is the first performance I’ve seen of yours. You dance very well as an ensemble.”

Our little group continued to make small talk while the next group of dancers arrived and prepared for their performance. Alain clearly wanted to be elsewhere, anywhere I wasn’t, but I kept including him in the conversation. He couldn’t disappear without being exceptionally rude to me and his compatriots. I counted on him remaining polite. The conversation was beginning to run its course and I was looking forward to leaving with Alain to try to reach a resolution of our morning conversation when I heard my name called by a middle-aged man who must have been a part of the following dance troupe.

“Karl Ackermann? It is you! My word! What brings you to Boise and Jaialdi, Karl? Will you be staying to watch our troupe’s modest performance? It would be marvelous if you did. I think you’d enjoy it tremendously! And who are your friends?” I wished he had stopped there, but he kept asking questions and making comments for another few minutes, not permitting any of us to intrude into his soliloquy. Cat and Chuck exchanged glances, clearly not clued in to what was going on. When Cat checked in with Alain she rolled her eyes, annoyed by our guest’s behavior. In acknowledgement, his lips twitched in the hint of a smile.

I finally interrupted the monologue. “I’m visiting with a family friend, Alain, and his friends, Cat and Chuck. I’m sorry we won’t be able to stay long. I’m afraid my friends didn’t get a chance to eat lunch before their performance, so we’re going to grab a bite before going our own ways for the afternoon. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“Antton Salazar. I’m the company director for Sacramento Euskal Danza Taldea. Stay for our first dance, if only so that I can say that Karl Ackermann has seen us perform. Please say yes!”

I spoke up as quickly as possible to cut off further rambling. “Cat? Chuck? Alain?” They nodded acquiescence. I turned back to our host.

“How could we say no? Please don’t let us keep you, though. You must have much to do before you begin. We’ll wait in the audience. Thank you for your invitation. Shit – Shit, Antton!”

I turned quickly and gathered our newly formed group, then left the backstage area and headed to the ‘house’. Before long, we heard the introduction to Salazar’s troupe, so we found a spot within sight of the dance floor and waited.

“Listen, kids, we don’t have to stay together. I’m sorry if I told a white lie about going out to eat together. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon listening to our host. Alain and I will be meeting his uncle Rence later, so we can split up whenever you’d like.”

“Ummm, Karl? What was that guy going on about? How come he knew your name?” Chuck was looking at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, I’ve been in the public eye, so people of a certain age know who I am. It’s nothing big. Let’s watch.”

The performers began their first dance. They were good, maybe better than Alain’s troupe, certainly better costumed. It didn’t matter, except for Alain, his company had performed with more exuberance than the current one.

I leaned towards Alain to catch his attention. I spoke for his ears only.

“Alain, we need to talk. I need to know what’s going on between you and me. I have no idea why you’re so mad at me and we need to work this out… for Rence’s sake if not for ours.”

When he turned to go, I caught him by the arm which rewarded me with a acid glare. However, he stayed next to me until we could graciously leave after the first piece. He wasn’t happy, but he followed me to a beer garden under some trees nearby. The shade provided welcome relief from the high desert heat of Boise’s summer.

“Can I get you a beer or something else?” He scoffed, clearly wanting to end our tête-á-tête as quickly as possible, so I sat down.

“Alain, you said some really hurtful things. I have no idea why. I don’t think I deserved them, either. Clue me in, here. Did I do something wrong?”

Alain wouldn’t look at me, in fact, he wouldn’t even face me. He did start talking quietly, though.

“How come you’re getting involved? Why don’t you go back to wherever you live and just do whatever you do. Just leave Uncle Rence out of it! If you mess with him, you mess with my family. Don’t mess with my family!”

“There you go! Whatever got into your head that I was going to ‘mess with Rence’? And don’t speak for Rence, cause I don’t think he’s sorry we’re dating. Do you have a problem with two consenting gay men having se… umm… showing affection in private?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake! Don’t play the ‘homophobe’ card on me! I’m not all cosmopolitan, but I’m no bigot! What do you know about being gay in Wyoming? Do you know what it’s like growing up gay in a rural place where there aren’t any queers? Do you have any idea how that damages a person? Don’t think that you know, ‘cause you haven’t got a clue!”

“Wait, what are we talking about here, Alain? Are we talking about Rence or someone else?”

His eyes got really big before he slammed his hand down on the table, lurched to standing with a snarl and spat out, “Just stay – out – of my – family!”

On his long legs, he strode away while I sat stunned by his vehemence. Shit! That hadn’t gone well! I looked around to see if his departure had focused any attention on us, on me. A few people looked away quickly. My scan stopped when Cat caught my gaze. We shared a grim look and she came over and sat at my table. She put her iPhone on the tabletop with Google page open. It had my name in the search box.

“You’re that Karl Ackermann?”

I sighed, then nodded.

“Cool.” She looked in the direction Alain had fled.

“What’s eatin’ him?”

“I don’t know. How well do you know him? Is he usually so wound up?”

“Nah. He’s quiet guy. You’d never know he was around, most of the time. What about you? Did you do something?”

“I don’t think so… No, I didn’t. He’s been weird since this morning.”

She looked at me closely, like she was trying to suss me out. “The two of you aren’t… you know… involved?”

Cat’s inquiry set off a claxon in my mind. Suddenly, Alain’s warnings/threats came to the fore.

“Of course not! Why would you ask that?”

“Hey, relax, Karl. Is that alright, calling you Karl?”

I nodded once.

“Well, Karl, I don’t know anything about Alain’s sexual orientation. As for me, I’m a card-carrying lesbo. Whatever he is isn’t going to freak me. But, you’re right, it’s not really my business, is it? I’ll retract that question, counselor.”

“Cat, you’re right, it’s none of your business. But that makes two of us… ummm, queers, not lesbos.”

We shared a quick grin.

“But, Cat, I’ve got a question for you. Have you ever felt that Alain was, like, homophobic? ‘Cause he’s behaving really strange around this queer. Even threatening. I can’t figure out why he’s treating me like he is unless he hates homos.”

“Well, that’s not it. He’s real comfortable around me. He’s not a violent guy usually, but I saw him pop a guy once who was going off on this kinda swishy guy at a restaurant. No, I don’t thing he’s got anything against you on that count.

“Now, I’ve got a question for you, Karl. Just call me nosy if I’m out of place, but how is it you know Alain? You’ve gotta admit, it’s kinda strange, an actor being friends with a young sheep rancher from the back of beyond. You see why I’m asking?”

“Well, Cat, it’s not big deal, really. I’m kinda a friend of the family. Is that enough of an answer?”

“Yeah, I’ll back off.”

She stood and shook my hand, “Listen, I gotta head. It’s was nice meeting ya, Karl. I hope you figure out what’s going on with Alain. He’s actually a decent guy. Later!”

“Bye, Cat. Maybe we’ll meet again some day in Wyoming, you think?”

“Maybe. Till then, don’t take any wooden nickels, guy! Bye!”

She waved and turned to leave. I sat for a bit longer, then decided to give a rest to the mystery of Alain. I called Rence. He picked up on the final ring before it went to voicemail.

“Hey Karl. I just finished with my meetings for the weekend. Woohoo! I’m heading back to the hotel. Do you and Alain want to meet me in the lobby and tell me about what kinda trouble you’ve gotten into today? I kinda wanna give Alain a run down on some new leads, too. Then we can decide what we wanna do for the afternoon.”

“Ooph… I’ll be happy to meet you but I don’t know what’s up with Alain. We split up pretty soon after we left the hotel this morning. I need to talk to you about that. Something’s wrong between the two of us… that’s Alain and me… and I need to try to figure it out. He’s angry at me about something. Maybe you can give me some advice? And, Rence, we didn’t sleep a whole lot last night. I could use a nap and some ‘quality time’ with you. You up for that?” I tried to put a ‘wiggle of the eyebrows’ into the line.

“Grrrr… yeah, I could get into some cuddling before heading out for the evening. I’m sorry to hear about Alain. Can’t figure that out… Angry? That’s just strange. That’s not like him. We’ll talk, OK?”

“Yeah, sounds good. See you at the hotel. Till then…” I sent him an audible kiss.

‘Bye, hun!”

------------- ~ o ~ -------------

Rence unlocked our door and we followed Butch into the hotel room. We’d just returned from strolling along the river. It out to be a great spot for us to relax while giving Butch his exercise. Rence and I had been discussing Alain’s behavior.

“So, Rence, what he said was so off the wall, so full of misinterpretations and so wrong in so many ways, I couldn’t figure out how to respond. That, and he didn’t give me any chance to respond. He wasn’t just making a bunch of accusations, either. He was almost threatening.

“God, I feel like I’m tattling on him. I wasn’t going to come to you with this. I met with him after he performed, but the second conversation didn’t go any better than the first. I thought we could work this out without your getting involved, but it doesn’t seem like I can do right in Alain’s eyes.”

I flopped backwards onto the bed.

“Did you say something, Karl? ‘Cause if –-“

“No! All I did was try to make conversation with him! There wasn’t anything that would – ”

“Cause if he thought you were, I don’ know… Well, I really don’t know. Damn, I gotta talk to the boy again. This just isn’t making sense.” He paced in front of the bed.

“Rence, can we let it rest till later? I just want to lie here and hold you. Maybe it’ll work itself out. Come lie down with me.”

Rence stopped his pacing and gave me a sultry look.

“Uh, Rence, I really am tired. I really only want to hold you. Can you handle with that?”

“You just said you didn’t want me to ‘handle’ that!” He pointed to my crotch. “Yeah, yeah, we didn’t sleep much last night, did we?” He shucked off his shoes and crawled onto the coverlet beside me before snuggling back into my arms.

“How’s that? Does that feel right? Karl, do you really think Alain – ”

“Shhh, Rence. Just let me hold you.”

“Mm hmm….”

------------- ~ o ~ -------------

I slowly eased back to consciousness, alone on the bed. As I got my bearings, I heard muffled voices next door. It didn’t sound like all was well between Rence and Alain. I listened for a few minutes, hoping to catch a word or the gist of the conversation/argument, but the walls were too well soundproofed. I let out my breath in a sigh… yes, I had been holding my breath… and rolled off the bed. As I was checking my face in the mirror, the door between our rooms opened. Rence swung into our room, looking agitated, even fiery. He sparked as he paced at the foot of the bed.

“You’re awake. We didn’t wake you, did we? No? Good! Christ almighty! I… I don’t know what to say! Thank god I’m not a parent! He’s completely off his rocker! What was he… Jesus! There’s no sense to… Christ! He’s just…”

Rence’s train of thought sputtered and ran out of steam.

“So it’s not just me? I wasn’t something I said? I mean, I’ve been known to put my foot in it…”

“Oh, no! This isn’t you’re issue. Karl, don’t take this one on. Alain’s, well, he’s not real skilled socially. I think there’s some serious projection and misunderstanding going on here.”

“Rence, I tried to sit down and talk to him earlier. Think it would help if I tried again?”

“God, I don’t know. You up for some family dynamics? I don’t want to let this mess stew if I can help it.”

“Yeah, alright, but don’t let it turn into ‘us against him’, alright?”

“Yeah.” He turned and stepped back to the door to open it, but it was locked on the other side.

“Oh, fer Christ’s sake! I’m going around to the front door. I’ve still got the key. I’ll be… no, we’ll be right back!”

I pulled three beers from the fridge, set them on the table and waited, trying not to listen to the sounds from next door. After a couple minutes, the connecting door opened and Rence and Alain stepped into the room. Rence looked flustered and Alain looked sullen. In fact, with this furrowed brow, pursed lips and shoulder slump, his affect screamed ‘grumpy boy’. He dragged his feet to the table and slouched into a chair.

“Alain, you, Karl and I are going to hash this out – now.”

Alain didn’t look up or respond when I passed him an open beer. I took a swig from mine. Rence continued.

“I don’t know where to start, Alain. You’ve said a whole bunch of stuff that doesn’t make… well, I can’t make sense out of it, anyway. You’ve been rude to Karl and you’ve been an ass to me. It’s not like you! What gives?”

The three of us sat silently for a minute. Alain still didn’t look up, though he reached for his beer and took a swig.

“Uncle Rence, you’re not my dad. I don’t have to answer to you. Get off my case.”

“That’s just it, Alain. Of course I’m not Ramiro. So the fuck what! I’m family. We’re family and we work together and right now, you’re not working with me and you’re not working with a man I have feelings for. Like I said, it’s not like you to be a jerk. What’s happening? Do you have something against me? Or Karl? Spill!”

Alain looked up, carefully focusing past me to Rence. He started speaking aggressively to Rence, but in Basque, excluding me from the conversation. Rence and I responded at the same time, but he gave me the floor.

“Oh no you don’t, Alain. Speak English. The three of us are having a discussion. Even if you’re not gonna address me directly, don’t act like I’m not even here!”

Alain turned to look me in the eye, his dark eyes boring into mine. “Well, what are you doing here? What do you want from us? There’s nothing we have that you could want! Just go back to Hollywood and stay away from us. We don’t need you! We don’t want you here! You don’t understand us; you never will! Just leave us alone!”

Alain’s final words were almost a wail. Rence looked stunned for a moment. As for me, I was thinking strategically. Alain had blurted his vitriol for Rence’s ears, too. Rence couldn’t think of me as a complainer after hearing Alain’s temper. I was startled when Rence turned to look at me with a questioning gaze.

“What? You actually want me to respond to those accusations?”

Rence nodded while Alain took on a smug expression, feeling his uncle’s backing.

“I don’t like being treated like a defendant, Rence. I’ve done nothing that needs defending.” I didn’t like the turn in the conversation and I didn’t like Alain’s new manner.

“Well, it was poorly stated, but they’re not bad questions. It think it boils down to the question, ‘What are your intentions?’”

“My intentions? Well, they’re not to take over and run your family’s businesses or lives! And they’re not to become a rancher. My intentions? Christ, Rence, we’re just getting started! And another thing, my intentions bear on you, personally, not on your family and not on your family’s enterprises. They have nothing to do with Alain. So, no, I don’t think they were particularly good questions. In fact, I think they’re impertinent! For that matter, what are your intentions, Rence?”

I turned on Alain, “And you? What are your intentions? ‘Cause right now, I think your intention is to run me off… permanently. And I can’t figure out why you think this thing your uncle and me are exploring is any of your damn business!”

“Whoa! Cool your jets, Tex!” Rence looked like he was enjoying this! Oh, god! Was he part of one of those florid Mediterranean, everybody-yelling-around-the-dinner-table families? Could my WASP nerves survive such excessive, emotive behavior?

“Karl, to answer your question, I intend to find a way for the two of us to be a couple. Or at least for the two of us to explore to the fullest extent the possibility of becoming a couple.

“And as to my family’s input… actually, it is a pertinent question. We have a family business, so my personal decisions impact all of us in the extended Ynzunza clan, just like Alain’s generation’s decisions about mates will effect the family business.

“So, Alain, your turn. What are your intentions? Are you really trying to run Karl off? And, Alain, before you start, try adjusting your attitude, your hear? So far, you’ve been pretty rude to Karl. Give him the benefit of the doubt, how ‘bout? Show him some respect. For my sake, if you can’t do it for his.”

“Sure, Uncle Rence, take his side. It’s not like you’ve not known me for 26 years or anything! What about my feelings? What about how I feel?”

“OK, Alain, good point. How do you feel? Up till now, you haven’t said a word about your feelings. How ‘bout it? We’re listening.”

Rence’s equanimity was galling, especially because I felt put on the spot by Alain’s attacks. I would have preferred him coming to my defense instead of him directing an even-handed discussion about Alain’s prejudices.

Alain sputtered a bit, doing the attitude thing: rolling his eyes, glancing off to the side, letting out a deep sigh along with that cough-like thing that’s supposed to imply being put out. If he really was 26 he wasn’t showing it. He was behaving more like a teenager than an adult.

He pushed away from the table and got ready to stand.

“Alain, sit back down! You started this with your comments to Karl. Don’t think you can leave the room without dealing with whatever’s got your knickers in a twist. Sit! Talk! Now!”

I had never seen Rence angry until now. He’s not a small guy. In his anger he inflated to an intimidating size. I was glad not to be the focus of his glare. Alain, evidently, wasn’t accustomed to his anger either. He looked cowed as he sat back down quickly.

“I don’t know. Uncle Rence it’s just not right, him coming in and trying to be a part of our family and the ranches. I mean, come on! He doesn’t know shit about sheep or the rangeland or the homestead or us. All he knows is how to say his lines in front of a fucking movie camera. Christ! Anybody can do that!”

“Alain, let me remind you… this isn’t about Karl. We’re here so you can describe your feelings. Leave off the attacks.”

“OK, how do I feel? You wanna know how I feel? I feel threatened! I feel attacked! I’m scared for you and for me and Peio and Maarrieta and for mom and dad. Our whole family is threatened! Why? ‘Cause what’s gonna happen when people figure out that Rence Ynzunza is gay? What’ll they say? What’re they gonna do? I mean, fuck! What happened to Matt Shepard? Oh, yeah! I know! He was beaten to death! What’s gonna happen to us? And him? He doesn’t know shit! He’s not from Wyoming. He doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to live there. Not a clue! He has no idea what it takes for us to survive. Uncle Rence, we won’t be safe if he comes out to the ranches. Hell, he could get killed, so it’s not just me I’m scared for. Fuck, man! I don’t… Uncle Rence, I don’t want… you hurt. I don’t want you… killed. I don’t wanna be killed. Do you remember? Do you remember what happened to Matthew Shepard, beaten to a bloody pulp? Fuck! It was brutal! Brutal! Oh, Uncle Rence…”

Holy shit! Halfway through Alain’s tirade, Rence had slide around the table to hold onto the boy. By the end, Alain was weeping into Rence’s chest while Rence soothed and comforted him.

I sat there, stunned. When Rence noticed me, he shrugged his shoulders slightly. He hadn’t expected such an outburst from his nephew, evidently. He continued to silently communicate with me, giving a quick tilt to his head, motioning me to join him in comforting Alain.

It took me a few moments to overcome my anger with the guy before I could comfortably join Rence in giving the crying youth the support he obviously needed.

Rence held Alain closely while he spoke directly to me.

“Karl, when Matthew Shepard was murdered, it was really hard on everyone halfway sensible in the entire state of Wyoming. It was especially difficult for Alain. He was fourteen that fall and he took it really hard.”

He turned his attention back to his nephew.

“Alain, this is a personal question. I’ve put off asking this for a long time, but it doesn’t make sense to put it off any longer. Alain, are you… gay?”

Alain stiffened and went silent for a moment before letting out a wail, “No! Nooo!”

His crying took on a completely intensity. He sobbed and then let out a new series of wails. Rence held him tighter while I embraced both him and his uncle from the other side. Alain bit into the heal of his hand as he tried to regain control before he let out another cry and began to sob anew, his tears and slobber and snot dripping onto his hand and sleeve and then onto Rence’s shoulder.

We sat like that for five or ten minutes before Alain eased from wails to whimpers. When he appeared to be calming down, I released the two of them to go get tissues from the bathroom.

By the time I got back, Alain was settling down. He wouldn’t meet my gaze when I passed him the kleenex, but Rence gave me a nod of appreciation. Part of me wanted to support both of them in the coming conversation and another part wanted to leave them to work it out between them. A third part wanted to pack up and head back to Seattle and leave Alain to his own personal hell.

I quickly nixed the third option and rejoined the two of them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Alain, you know we’ll all love you and protect you, whatever you are. Now, wanna try answering my question again?”

He let out a series of quiet, hitched sobs but kept control of himself. “I think I might be gay… probably. I don’ know. No, I know. Uncle Rence, I think I’m gay.”

“Well, now I’m not the only fruit in the family tree. Welcome, nephew ‘o mine!”

Alain looked up and gave him a slight, self conscious smile then turned in my direction. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the things I said. I don’t know what to say…”

“It’s alright. You’ve been wound incredibly tight, trying to keep it together. And, Alain, you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be gay in Wyoming. But, you gotta remember, I’ve been gay for a long time, from back when it was dangerous just about anywhere you lived. I know how to be discrete. But we can talk about that later.

“Alain, did you know Matthew Shepard?”

“No, I was just in high school, but, like Uncle Rence said, it scared any decent Wyomingites half to death. And, me… it scared me to death. I was just starting to think about with my sexuality, and, well, it stopped me dead. I couldn’t even think about the possibility of being gay after that.” He shuddered.

“Alain, Matthew Shepard’s murder was a hate crime. That’s what hate crimes are about, not just hurting the individual victim but threatening all the gays in Wyoming, even the whole United States, hell, the whole world. It threatened me in Los Angeles and it threatened Rence in Reno. And you, you’ve have been a victim for more than 10 years now. Good for you for standing up to the murderers and stepping out from their shadow.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be OK. You’ve got two people here who’ll support you while you discover your new self in the coming months. You’re gonna blossom, Alain. I swear it!”

Alain giggled at Rence’s vehemence. “I don’ know about blossoming, Uncle Rence. All I wanna do is survive and raise sheep.”

“You’re going to do more than survive. Really, trust me on this. Coming out to yourself, not to mention the two of us, is gonna make you a whole lot stronger. Just wait. You’ll see. Trust me.

“Now, all this carrying on has made me hungry. How’s about we head down to Jaialdi and get some grub? I could eat a lamb!”

“Don’t you mean a horse?”

Rence and Alain shared a glance and then Alain responded, “Nope! I’m ready to eat me some lamb!”

Fair warning: I'm planning for this to be the penultimate chapter. I tried this once before (ending the story) but that didn't go over so well! And further warning: don't expect this to be tied up in a neat little package. Life isn't like that, now, is it! Don't worry... I'm a romantic. It won't end unhappily, just don't plan for wedding bells!
This work is copywritten by the author and may not be copied or posted elsewhere without his explicit permission. All characters and events are fictional and do not represent any living person or actual event. The artists mentioned have no relationship with the author or the fictional events in the story. <br /><br />
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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