Fairy Dust - 5. The Fairy and the Dust

Sam watched the graceful upper body emerge from under the rack. First came a narrow waistline then slim but strong looking arms and finally suspiciously broad shoulders. The features were somehow highlighted a soft looking yellow sweater. Sam's admiration turned to shock when the object of his new found affection turned around. What he assumed was a woman now revealed a flat chest and a five o'clock shadow. "Oh! I'm sorry," Sam quickly corrected himself, "I couldn't really see you down there and I assumed -."

"Don't worry about it. It happens all the time," interrupted the man extending his hand, "I'm Tom. What can I do for you?"

Sam shook the smiling man's hand and began to explain what he was looking for. "I'd like to get some perfume for my niece. The one called Fairy Dust."

"That's our most popular item right now," answered Tom, "People have been coming from all the near by towns for it. I think we may have to start a mail order service if this keeps up."

He led Sam to a counter and pulled a bottle of the magic liquid from under it. It came in a pink bottle with a smiling fairy on the label. Sam could not help noticing the resemblance between the fairy on the bottle and the man selling it. He wanted to ask if the cartoon was a self-portrait but opted to make small talk instead. "So, you own this place?"

"No Its my sister's," answered Tom as he rang up the purchase, "That's her on the bottle. Some people say it looks more like me though."

That answered Sam's unspoken question. It made his uncomfortable too so he thanked Tom, took his fairy dust, and left. He carefully stashed it in the rental car before starting the journey home. He drove slowly over the uneven roads, not wanting to break the precious bottle. All the way home Sam thought about Tom. He had instantly liked the man. He had a soothing voice, porcelain skin, and contrasting jet-black hair. His most striking feature was his eyes. They were the darkest shade of brown Sam had ever seen. They had a way of drawing Sam's gaze perhaps because of the way the pupils seemed almost to disappear.

At times Sam forced himself to think about something else. He did not like the obsessive way his mind kept drifting back to Tom. He had admired good-looking men before but this was something more than admiration. He found himself mentally undressing his new acquaintance, and was simultaneously aroused and horrified by his thoughts. He tried to distract himself in any way he could. He opened the window letting in the cool afternoon air and played with the radio but eventually his thoughts would return to Tom. By the time he was on the main highway home he was furious with himself. He blamed the video and cursed the pervert who had downloaded it. The thought that he might be gay haunted him.

He kept telling himself that there was no way anything as trivial as a video clip could have that much power over him. He refused to allow anything to turn him gay. He promised himself that he would do battle with whatever had invaded his mind but the nagging voice of doubt persisted. It dug up old memories of boys in gym class at school.

Frightened he turned to logic making his case systematically. He tried to list all the gay characteristics that did not fit him. He did not speak with a lisp. He did not wax his eyebrows or nose hair. He did not highlight his hair. He was a bad cook and certainly did not bake. He did not wear tight pants and hated the color pink. There was no way that he could be gay. There was only the little problem of his complete obsession with another man.

When Sam finally got home it was late and he was exhausted. As he drifted off to sleep he said a prayer to any kind spirit who would listen. He asked to stay straight.