Dreams and Clipped Wings - 2. Chapter 2

2: Eating Crow
: edited by viv :


Dark, ebony painted wood framed the large picture window of Saul Braunstein's bagel shop in heavy fluted pieces. Ample daylight flooded through the window and into the dining area, never being interrupted or obscured by the small hours-of-operation sign in the lower left-hand corner next to the entrance. Simple moldings extended up the sides of the clear, smudge-free glass that remained just as unobstructed as the daylight and free from any signage, giving support to a wide lintel that spanned the entire facade. Bold, gold leafed, Roman lettering provided a classy, sophisticated contrast to the black field they were mounted on as it proudly displayed the bagelry's name across the long piece of timber.

The building's stuffy, pretentious exterior softened as Cody crossed through the entryway and was greeted by the doughy smell of yeast tinged with oiled wood, and the sterility of various cleaners. Of all the smells Cody associated with the bagelry, the tangy scent of yeast was predominant. It was the same doughy vinegar that ebbed as the day wore on, allowing other distinct, utilitarian, smells to take center stage.

Inside, just like out, the bagelry had an English feel to it, a Californian take on an English Public room, with rich, ebony wainscoting stretching up from the worn, dark, hardwood floors to waist height. From there to the plastered ceilings, the walls were painted the subdued color of Bavarian creme. Obligatory pictures of the San Francisco skyline and its landmarks dotted the walls, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Bay Bridge, and the Transamerica Pyramid, along with photos of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Tower Bridge in London, as well as some of the latter cities' famous landmarks.

Potted ferns and various other forms of knick-knackery spaced the pictures, but none of it seemed to ease anyone who entered the bagelry and noticed one of Mr. Braunstien's more infamous trophies.. Mounted in the corner of the room, above the seating area, it kept watch, with what more than one patron claimed was an "evil presence" over the entire dining area of the shop.

"Hey, Mr. B. When are you gonna toss this thing in the dumpster?" Cody asked, eyeing the trophy suspiciously as he pulled out a chair and took a seat at a small wooden table.

Mr. Braunstein popped out from the back room, drying his hands on a towel, as he cast a glance up at the prize he'd bagged years ago while on a trip in the desert. His eyes dropped from the trophy to Cody. "Leave him alone," he smiled wryly. "He ain't bothering no one, especially you."

Cody frowned as he looked back up at the mangy animal, its black fur coated with a layer of dust, as it stared down at him in silence from behind a pair of gaudy, large, mirrored sunglasses. Atop its head sat a tarnished silver tiara sporting rhinestones that had lost their sparkle.

"Where did it come from again?" Cody asked, eyeing the stuffed animal suspiciously. He had heard Mr. Braunstein mention the story in passing to a customer who had inquired about the mounted goat that hung on the wall with its various adornments. However, he had never heard the story for himself first hand.

"Oh," Mr. Braunstein said as he slid the chair next to Cody out, smiling as he reminisced while taking a seat. "I was on a trip in the Arizona desert, just a few friends and I, and the animal kept pestering us."

"Doesn't explain the sunglasses," Cody mentioned looking back up at the stuffed and mounted goat.

Mr. Braunstein shrugged. "I didn't like the way it was looking at me, standing up on the cliffs bleating its supremacy," Saul halted his explanation, watching the memory of the animal falling off the cliff. "Arizona may not be Har-Megiddo, but I fought the devil there, and won."

"I still say you should throw it in the dumpster," Cody quipped, looking away from the animal and its relentless mirrored stare.

The old man smiled, placing a hand on Cody's shoulder. "Aww it's just a shy and retiring goat lurking up in the corner; leave him be. Besides, if I tossed him out I'd have to change the name out front," Mr. Braunstein concluded, looking proudly up at the mounted goat.

A smile played across Cody's lips. "Really?" he asked playfully. "I always thought you were the old goat in 'Old Goat Bagelry'."

"Smartass," Mr. Braunstein commented wryly, before sharing a good chuckle with Cody.

Cody smiled appreciatively as their combined laughter died out. As he did, he took a moment to appreciate the ornery man sitting next to him. Short and thin, and borderline frail, the man had a full head of shocking white, unruly hair, and a pair of bushy, white eyebrows to match.

Saul Braunstein was a character for sure, both in appearance and in personality, yet the most striking feature of the sixty-five year old was the pair of bright brown eyes which sparkled with a spirit that was un-mired by the dregs of time. Then again, Mr. Braunstein seemed to defy the effects of time almost altogether. Instead of the crotchety usualness of most men who had seen so many decades pass, Mr. Braunstein seemed, to Cody, more like a wrinkly fifteen year old, lithe and strong, and oddly disproportioned with his wide nose and large ears that supported a pair of thick horn rimmed glasses.

As they sat there chuckling together, Cody idly wondered if his own grandfather would have been like Mr. B. He liked to think so. They were both men who, in a sense, knew what they wanted. His own grandfather may have only owned a hardware store in Klamath Falls, yet, from the stories he had heard from his grandmother, and the people he met while he had lived there, the store, aside from his wife, was the passion of his grandfather's life. The Old Goat Bagelry was much the same for Saul Braunstein, opened after he changed coasts, and making a nice profit for thirty years now.

"So what brings you here?" Saul asked after a pause in their conversation. "You don't want to answer my questions about that boy, do you?"

Cody smiled his acceptance of Saul's statement and held a hand in the air, begging a moment, as he shifted in his seat to lift one cheek off the worn wooden chair so he could fish out the plain white envelope that contained his and Joe's rent money. Without a word, Cody slid the envelope across the small table.

Saul smiled and nodded appreciatively, and just as quietly, retrieved the envelope and stuffed it into the pocket on the front of the apron he was wearing.

The simple act of Mr. B. collecting his money always amazed Cody, the way he would just accept it and stuff it away without bothering to double check the amount. It was a stark contrast to his mother, who would meticulously count the coin she received. To him, it seemed that she was always afraid that someone was going to screw her over. The height of the hypocrisy would be when she did that after arguing with a cashier when attempting to use expired coupons.

"Now about that boy," Mr. Braunstein started once he had the envelope safely tucked away.

"It wasn't Jonathan," Cody admitted, looking away.

"I know," Saul smiled as he interlaced his fingers on the table in front of him. "Jonathan was never one to act like a lost puppy."

Cody chuckled. The statement was true, there was nothing 'lost puppy' about Jonathan. If he wanted something, he wouldn't think twice about getting up in someone's face and demanding whatever it was he wanted, good or bad. That attitude had its benefits in the past, and without it, Cody would have never spared the mundane looking Jonathan a second glance. Now, Jonathan's in-your-face style grated more on Cody's nerves than he felt was worth the rewards.

"For what it's worth,," Cody smiled, "I don't think you'll be seeing much of Jonathan anymore."

Saul's easy smile faltered. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, appearing to Cody to be genuinely concerned.

Cody shrugged his indifference over the situation. "Nothing too big, we just had a difference of opinion when it came to the definition of 'us'."

Saul gave Cody a skeptical look, as if he wanted to call Cody on his flippant attitude, but instead, accepted the answer at face value. "So we've established this boy wasn't Jonathan," Saul spoke clearly, his brown eyes twinkling in the golden light of the mid-afternoon that filtered in through the large front window.

Cody smiled the same disarming, innocent smile that had derailed Saul's questioning in the past. This afternoon, however, the cheeky soft smile held little impact as the man before him mirrored the smile and winked, a simple gesture which conveyed the full vim and vigor of his stubbornness.

"Well," Saul offered, "he is a good looking boy," he finished with another wink.

Cody didn't want to agree with Saul's statement, but the flush that crept into his cheeks gave him away. It was true; Damon was a good looking kid. Mixed heritages, Greek and Hispanic, had ensured that, giving his skin an olive complexion that radiated warmth under any light. It wasn'tt his skin, however, that made Damon attractive, nor was it the mop of wavy black hair, or the way his body seemed perfectly proportioned.

It wasn't even the innocent symmetry of his kind face. No, in Cody's opinion, it was Damon's inquisitive green eyes. They weren't the bright emerald one thinks of when they think of green eyes. Instead, they were more a muted, silver green that shimmered with a surreal radiance. The alluring kind of eyes that smiled long before lips had a chance.

"It's nothing like that," Cody said, shaking his head, not in disagreement with Saul's statement, but in an effort to remove the image of Damon's smile from his mind.

"Could it be?" Saul questioned with a mischievous smile, living up to all the old stereotypes of the elderly playing matchmaker for the still wet-behind-the-ears generation.

The thought rippled through Cody's mind, but was dismissed before it had the chance to fully form. "Nah," Cody offered giving a slight shake of his head. "He's too innocent."

"Innocent is good," Saul countered, and Cody readily agreed. "You're a good boy," Saul offered, cupping Cody's cheek in his leathery palm. "You deserve a good boy."

Cody didn't answer as he luxuriated in the warmth and comfort of Saul's palm and stared into the man's confidant brown eyes as they sparkled with all the confidence he could muster for the offered statement. It was misplaced belief, Cody thought. He wasn't a good boy, and he certainly didn't deserve anyone near the person Damon was.

He had stolen enough innocence already in his time. The first instance, and the last, was thrilling. Cody felt alive in the moments that led up to it, he felt alive after. Now all he could do was wallow in the memory of that theft. To do it again, to do it again would make him every bit the monster he already felt he was. He didn't want to be that monster, but there was no way he could see to climb from under its oppressing shadow, not even with Saul's earnest devotion acting as a safety net.

Yes, he could. He could, but he didn't want that for Damon, he didn't want that for himself.

Saul's smile faltered as Cody watched him, and as it ebbed, so did his hand on Cody's cheek. Sighing in accord with things left unspoken, Saul changed the direction of their talk again. "You going to be here in the morning?" he asked.

"Bright and early," Cody smiled, sitting back in his seat, thankful for Saul's change of direction.

Saul smiled as well. "Mrs. Black says her kitchen sink is leaking. Would you mind taking a look at it tonight?"

"No problem," Cody answered, he was used to the handyman role he had fallen into around the building. It had started out simple enough, fixing up things and painting around The Old Goat where needed. Somewhere along the way, that had morphed into checking and making minor repairs around the whole building. He didn't mind it much, and the loose schedule allowed him to find other things to do in the meantime. As an added bonus Mr. Braunstein had cut their rent in half, saying Cody was an onsite manager.

Without hesitation Saul reached into the pocket of his apron, pulling out the envelope Cody had just given him. He opened it, removed two one hundred dollar bills, and slid them across the table to Cody.

Cody's eyes widened at the gesture. He went to push the two hundred dollars back to Saul. "That's way too..."

Saul's leathery hand cut the air in front of him in a nonchalant gesture, effectively silencing Cody's protest. "Go fix the sink," Saul ordered, smiling as he stood from the table and disappearing into the back room before Cody could protest further.

Joe was still sitting on the couch, clad in only his boxers, idly flipping through the channels, as the door to the apartment opened and closed. "You gonna sit on my lap this time," he commented, aiming a cocky smile at the TV.

"Expecting someone?" Julie asked with an arched brow as she crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder into the wall.

Joe blanched at the sound of Julie's voice. Chewing on his bottom lip, he slowly turned his head to look at her, and the expectant stare he knew would be there without needing to look. "I... uh...," he stammered, "I thought you were..." he paused abruptly, realizing that any admission of what he had been thinking would only provoke more questions on her part.

Waiting patiently, as she watched Joe, her brow arched just that much more.

Under her steady gaze, Joe could feel the heat spreading across his chest and crawling up his bare neck, blooming like a heritage rose on the surface of his ears and betraying him already. Between highlights of the Forty-niners - Chargers game and the listing of Bowl Championship Series standings, Joe was stuck. Should he say he was expecting Cody? If he did, Julie would wonder why he was asking if Cody was going to sit on his lap.

"I thought you were Cody," Joe confessed, seeing no other way out of whatever this was turning out to be, his cheeks catching the fire already smoldering across his chest and ears.

Julie rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall. "Is that all?" she asked, incredulous of the offered answer.

"Yeah," Joe answered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

"That boy is an infectious flirt," Julie said, providing an answer to Joe's skepticism as she dropped down on the couch next to him and planted a quick greeting kiss on his cheek.

"Infectious flirt?" Joe asked, curious as to what Julie was getting on about.

"Yup, he's always smiling at people, and looking in their eyes. At first, I thought it was just a gay thing," Julie paused; she knew how what she had just said sounded, and looked for the phrasing to fix it. "I mean it's not like he knows who would be interested or not, so I guess he just tries everyone."

Joe nodded; he could see why Cody would have to flirt with every guy in Julie's reasoning. "You said "at first"?" he asked, curious as to the rest of her statement.

Julie shrugged. "He flirts with girls, too," she commented as if it were nothing.

Joe didn't know how to feel about Julie's statement, or the reasoning behind it. Somewhere inside of him, he liked it. It made him feel special to be deserving of such attention from Cody when Cody knew Joe was someone that couldn't be had. With Julie's reasoning, that attention from Cody was nothing. He wasn't special.

"What are you doing here anyhow?" Joe asked, choosing to ignore her statement about Cody. "I thought you had class tonight."

"Canceled," Julie replied with ease as she scooped up the remote and entered the channel number for the design channel she liked to watch in her down time.

"Canceled?" Joe probed as he settled back on the couch, watching the way all her concentration poured into the program about redecorating a bedroom.

Julie nodded absently. "The professor is sick or something..." she trailed off, and Joe just watched her as a content smile turned the corners of his lips subtly.

She was every girl to Joe, bold and brash, timid and confused, macho, and still so utterly girly. She wasn't the definition of beautiful, though Julie could give any supermodel a run for her Prada if she felt like it. Her curves were luscious and soft, while her fingers were long and delicate. She smelled of ripe pears in the summer and warm sugar in the winter. Above the world of things she was, and could be, Joe thought she always looked the best lounging in a pair of his boxers and one of his old t-shirts, her hair pulled back into a clean ponytail.

There is an aroma that can only be described as sweet; it has no other defining characteristic. It is the same scent that lazes around cotton candy stalls at carnivals, and lingers on the edge of vanilla frosting tempting every sweet tooth and overgrown child in a fifty foot radius. That same scent drew Joe's lips to her neck as she watched her program, warmed by the heat of her blood, and tainted with the spice, and bite, of molasses.

The sensation of his lips on her skin relaxed Julie. Watching her show, her torso spread across his lap like a large cat stretching in comfort. There Julie lay, content in the comfortable silence that enveloped the two of them. Joe, too, was content in the absence of words, and up against the soothing warmth of her thigh as he rubbed its contour through the jeans she wore.

The silence allowed him to wonder about the other things on his mind. Little things that were un-assuming by their nature. Slowly, in the void of Julie's silence, there was the thought of Cody. He had left with the rent an hour ago. That thought led to the one where he wondered why Cody was hiding the fact that he was seeing a psychiatrist, and more so, what he was talking about when he was there.

Then there was Cody himself. Joe hardly knew him outside of what his favorite sports teams were. He knew he had a younger brother named Benjamin up in Sacramento, and a feisty grandmother in Oregon. He also knew Cody was gay. He hadn't known in Oregon, and Cody never sat him down and gave him some sort of speech about it. If he had, that would have been awkward. Joe never asked if he was either. Cody's actions clued him in, not to mention the whole bringing-home-a-guy-instead-of-a-girl thing.

Despite this scant amount of general knowledge, Joe had still asked him to come down to San Francisco. He was a cool enough guy and Joe knew Julie was going to be in class most of the time. He didn't want to be the stranger in a strange city. He wanted some concept of familiarity, and he found that familiarity in Cody.

Familiar, yet distant, was the perfect way to describe the friendship they shared. It worked. They didn't get into each other's way, splitting everything fifty-fifty. Yet, there was something else when it came to Cody, something that made Joe want to know more about him. Cody, to Joe, just seemed so lost sometimes, and it was always in the moment he looked the happiest to anyone else. He'd be laughing, smiling, and joking around, but his eyes, his eyes looked as if his soul was in despair. They'd stay dark and brooding, not lighting up and sparkling like so many other sets of eyes Joe was used to.

It was a shame too, Joe mused, as he sat on the couch idly rubbing Julie's thigh. It was a shame because Cody had nice eyes. Cobalt, chips of imperfect, deep-blue glass constantly clouded with the pain of a soldier who fought on despite a mortal wound. Despite the pain that lingered there, Cody's eyes were... they had the ability to color Joe's cheeks if his gaze lingered on them too long. Even thinking about them had the same effect, Joe realized, as he felt his cheeks warm, remembering the first time he'd noticed their strange effect.

Nearly three years ago, but he recalled the day as if it were yesterday, The air was oppressive, an atypical summer's afternoon, especially for southern Oregon, and thick with humidity, begging for the relief of the building thunderstorm. Inclement heat bore down on Klamath Falls possessing the ability to sap the life out of you, just like the boredom of living in a small town could if you let it. Joe had found the cure for both in a game of touch football in the park.

A lazy game later, Joe found himself attempting to cool down as he sat under a tree with rivulets of sweat clinging to his bare torso. Joe looked up to find the new guy claiming a patch of grass by his side. They'd chatted, about what, Joe couldn't remember, but they'd clicked. Finding comfortable ease under that tree, an ease that over the following days had turned into a friendship centered, in part, around their shared love of sports and mutual competitiveness, the two let each other into their lives.

They'd soon considered themselves best friends, even if the friendship was dominated with talk of sports, or cars, or music. Joe would bring up family every now and again and Cody would answer, but there had always been something distant about the answers. The answers were short and never expanded upon. That had bothered Joe at first, but it had been forgotten in time, or more precisely, accepted, just one friend accepting the quirks of another.

Cody's attraction to guys had become slowly apparent to Joe, and though it had been left unsaid, Joe had assumed that was Cody's secret. Yet, as the months passed, Joe realized that whatever it was that Cody kept locked away, it was something that he had yet to learn.

Joe was lost in his thoughts when a playful pinch on his inner thigh brought him back into the present.

"What are you thinking about?" Julie playfully asked. She had, at some point, rolled around in his lap and was staring up at him with a playful, ready smile, not too much unlike the impish, secretive smile Cody used to great effect.

"N-nothing," Joe croaked; his throat dry.

"Really?" Julie countered, lifting her head.

A shiver sprinted up Joe's spine as the scratchy cotton of his boxers dragged across the sensitive glands that wanted to follow the retreat of Julie's head. Realization struck as Julie smiled up at him, her head perilously close to the weight that flexed its willingness again. Joe whimpered as the unbridled pleasure raced upwards and spread outward through his shoulders.

Without a word spoken between them, Julie leaned in kissed the flat off to the side of Joe's navel, the spark and soft moisture of her lips eliciting another rush of thrill from his body. Her hand sought out his, which lay still and curved into the gap of her thighs. Interlacing her fingers with his, Julie pushed herself off the couch and stood up, doing her best to maintain eye contact.

Julie pulled Joe from the couch and led the way to his bedroom as he followed her and the erection that was pushing against the front of his boxers. All thoughts of Cody remained on the couch, as he slid up behind her, pressing his lips into the nape of her neck. His nose dragging through the fine wisps of her delicate dark hair, his hand slid along the feminine curve of her stomach, and he pulled her body into his.

Cody sat on the roof of his apartment building, protected from the brunt of the late afternoon breeze by walls that made the building look three feet taller than it actually was. As he sat there, he fumbled with a small lilac envelope in his fingers. He knew the sender's address well, and that was the reason he didn't want to open it. He was afraid of what it contained, for the familiar small lilac envelopes never brought good tidings into his odyssey. Like an assassin of his dreams, a roadblock to his goals, they usually brought another hardship that he would have to face head-on.

Choosing to forget the letter for now, Cody tossed it on top of the latest issue of Rolling Stone, its delicate purple masking the image of a new lead singer wearing only a pair of jeans, and dripping wet.

Standing, he shoved the mostly empty pack of stale cigarettes back into their hiding place and approached the edge of the building. The bay bridge was in the distance, its red beacons fighting the waning light of day to take dominance in their pulsing glow.

A lone raven soared in the sky, its wings outstretched as it was held aloft by the breeze. He wondered idly, if Joe and Julie were done yet, and if so, what they wanted to do for dinner. Cody closed his eyes, blocking out the twilight's pink hue. Blocking out the envy he felt in watching the bird, and his idle thoughts of dinner and Joe. He inhaled deeply in his self-enforced darkness, abandoning all thought, as he attempted to find a salty hint of the bay through the assaulting garlic and ginger laden, warm scent of Chinese and Thai food.

There in his darkness, Cody fantasized that he too, could fly.