Wellington Napoleon Dowd - 5. Chapter 5 - High School Romance

And then one day it came to pass. In the middle of winter’s drear, a vision of the coming spring appeared before me. Even lit by the industrial glow of institutional fluorescence, his beauty was compelling. Tall, trim, fair, robustly chested and appealingly bulging further down, he commanded the space around him, fascinating both boys and girls, errr, men and women. He scanned the assembled crowd, apparently searching for someone. His brows raised and eyes enlarged when they met mine. He pushed aside his well-wishers, crossed the space and extended his right hand to me.

“Are you Wellington Dowd?”

I nodded.

“That’s your Phaeton in the lot?”

I nodded again.

“Look at you. You’re perfect. Nice duds.”

I blushed.

“I find modesty very becoming.”

I blushed more deeply.

“And unusual in a man dressed to the nines for 1920, driving the most outlandish, if elegant, ride.”

“Ummm,” I replied.

“Plans this evening?”

I shook my head, ‘no.’

“Great. I’ll meet you at your car after school. Can you give me a lift?”

I nodded.

He left me with a comradely punch to the shoulder and an aching heart, among other things.

***

He must have spotted me coming across the parking lot. He stood posing, one foot on the front bumper, arms folded across his chest. He smiled broadly at me, giving me a wink. “Glad you’re here, it’s kind of cold.” I nodded my agreement and unlocked the passenger-side door, opening it for him. I sprinted around the car and got in.

“What a car! Where, how did you get it?”

I summoned all my self-possession to reply. “It was left over from my family. I rebuilt it over this summer.”

I could see the anticipation on his face as I inserted the key into the ignition. Clark Gable’s powerful engine thrummed to life causing the entire car to vibrate. It’s a sensation lost in today’s highly engineered, light-weight, under powered cars. He leaned back against the deep leather seats drinking in the power. Turning to me, he said, “Wow, now that’s how it’s supposed to feel. Take me for a ride.”

“Sure, where should we go?”

“Out on the highway. Let’s open her up.”

“Okay, but one thing, it’s a he.”

“He?”

“Yeah, I call him Clark Gable.”

“Clark Gable?”

“You know, Rhett Butler from Gone with the Wind? Big, powerful guy, just like my car.”

“I get you. Okay, Rhett, I mean Clark, show me what you’ve got under the hood.”

“You know my car’s name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Oh yeah, I’m Hunter, Hunter Wilson.”

“Hunter, cool name.”

“I guess. Wellington Dowd? That’s a mouthful,” he replied with a snort.

I wasn’t quite sure if a double entendre was intended and lacked the confidence to try to respond. So I slipped into first gear and pulled out of the parking spot, redirecting his attention to Clark Gable with a rev of the engine. We purred through the school lot, out into the streets until we reached the highway. I smoothly negotiated the gears through the mounting speed, nearly leaping from the entrance ramp onto the open road. Clark Gable was humming, tearing up the miles.

On rare moments, I stole a look away from the rapidly passing highway to glance at Hunter. A few times, his eyes met mine and he smiled. The road led away from town into the nearby hills and up into the mountains. Hunter called out, “pull over here,” indicating a scenic overlook. As I pulled in, Hunter hopped out of the car and approached the railing. I shut off the car and walked over to him.

The valley where I had spent my life was spread out below us. Among the hills and fields, some still with snow where the mountains shaded them, I could see the town of Millsville and glowering above the town, my home.

Hunter sidled next to me, putting an arm around my shoulders. My heart stood still. “It’s like being a king or something, being up here. ‘I am monarch of all I survey’,” he quoted grandly. “But you already are, aren’t you?”

I returned a puzzled look.

“I was talking with my mom about going to the public high school. You see, I got kicked out of the prep school I was in. I’m not much of a student, but try hard. I’m better at sports stuff. But my family thinks I need to go to the same college all my relatives went to, so I’ll need to get some good grades. Kids at the prep school make fun of public schools. My mom, she made a big point about how the Dowd’s sent their kid to the public schools and so it should be good enough for me. Sure why not. That got me to thinking, who was this Dowd kid? Why was he special? She told me that the Dowds and Wellingtons are what the locals call ‘gentry.’”

“So that’s why you sought me out?”

“Really, it was the car that got me going. One sweet ride.” He stepped over to caress the fender. “Anyway, my mom kind of encouraged me to make an acquaintance. She’s all about upward mobility, you know the country club and all. Whatever. I think you’re cool on your own. It’s amazing you restored this car all on your own. You’re different, for sure, but you’ve got a style. I admire that.”

As Hunter spoke, I wanted nothing more than to be a regular guy, not special or different, hoping to be what he wanted.

“Hey, it’s cold up here. Let’s go get something to eat.”

***

Hunter and I took many trips to that scenic outlook. I’m not sure what attracted him to that spot. Sometimes we talked or sneaked sips of booze from a flask he carried. Sometimes we just sat in companionable silence. I guess we were friends, we spent a lot of time together. I knew I wanted more.

In late spring, we were again at the overlook. The sun was newly hot. We stripped off our shirts, exposing ourselves. Sitting next to Hunter, my desire grew. He leaned his head back, contentedly. I could contain myself no longer. I took him in my arms and planted a kiss squarely on his lips. He accepted my kiss, lingering in the sensations. Suddenly, he came to himself, breaking my embrace.

“Whoa.”

Hunter was silent for too long a time, looking off over the valley below. “Well, I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t like you, I do. And I feel where you’re coming from. To be honest, I’d like to, you know do more. But I can’t, I just can’t. Do you understand me?”

I muttered too many apologies then went to wait in the car. Silence ruled the ride back to Hunter’s house. He mustered an embarrassed smile and wave, then was gone into the house.

***

l didn’t see Hunter the next day at school, or the day after. I don’t know if he was skipping or managing to avoid me. I finally ran into him at the end of school. I offered him a ride. He asked if he could bring along a friend or two. That’s the way it was until the end of the school year, always someone else with us if we were together at all.

I cursed myself for ruining my special relationship with Hunter, though I did give myself credit for daring to connect with him, to try for the boyfriend I wanted. In another time, perhaps away from the hometown, school and family Hunter might have been more open to a relationship with me. So I consoled myself with that bit of daring.