Brett
THE Tavern on the Green wasn’t no casual, down-home waterin’ hole. No, sir. And it sure wasn’t aimin’ to please the less-than-discriminatin’ tastes of no Mr. Fix-It-Barkeep like Brett Taylor. None-the-fuck-less, that was exactly where I found my ass planted tonight. At the moment, me and Ben Reed was starin’ at each other real awkward-like across this fancy-set table, both of us fiddlin’ with our cloth napkins that was folded up sorta like crowns… in the warm glow of candlelight. Which woulda been romantic if our dates weren’t off in the bathroom.
Ben broke the silence. “So, are you up for a fashion show tonight?”
“Will I ever be up for a fashion show? That there’s a better question.” I glanced down at my one-and-only fancy-ass “uniform”: the very same white oxford shirt, khaki pants, and navy blazer that I’d wore to Cory’s junior year Casino Night, his National Honor Society Induction, and his high school graduation. But tonight Cory didn’t make me wear my banker’s tie.
“Yeah, I hear you, man. I hate it that I have to wear my dress-to-impress outfit.” Ben glanced down at his own clothes. “Ally actually pulled it out of my closet and placed it all out on the bed in the shape of a person for me so I wouldn’t screw up getting dressed. How’d you get out of wearing a tie?”
Yeah, me and him was in the same fuckin’ boat in the dressin’ up department. S’pose the both of us was also pretty much whipped on our lovers. Didn’t matter none to me; I’d go any damned place Cory wanted me to go, whenever he wanted me to go there. And I’d wear a pretty smile on my face to match with my fancy-assed clothes, whether I fuckin’ liked it or not. Case closed.
Callin’ to mind the fact that Cory wanted me to make a good impression on this dude, I tried my hand at makin’ small talk. Which I sucked at. “So’s Cory’s gone joggin’ with Ally just about every Tuesday and Thursday since they met in history class.” That there was friendly conversation, huh?
Ben nodded and grunted his agreement. “Ally’s kinda nuts over Cory.”
“Yup. Same for Cory… about Ally, that is.”
“What happened to Cory last summer? Ally told me he got hurt, but didn’t get into the details.”
My heart sped up, and I couldn’t think of no words to answer him with.
Here we go….
“So, what happened to him?”
Well, that was real fuckin’ direct. “Uh, it’s just that… one of them customers at the bar where we used to work… he liked Cory, uh… and that there feeling wasn’t mutual. And the asshole wouldn’t take no for an answer. Get what I’m sayin’?”
A light seemed to suddenly turn on insida Ben’s head. “Did he get… like, um, how do I say it? Did Cory get raped?”
“Nope. Not that… but he got beat on real bad.” I couldn’t fuckin’ believe I was actually havin’ this particular discussion with this here dude who was still pretty much a stranger to me.
“Is the asshole in jail?”
Ouch. A major sore spot, that there was.
“He oughta be, but he ain’t. Cory begged me to leave it alone, so’s I did. It’s a long story.” I studied the flowers painted on them pretty plates real intent-like, as if I actually could appreciate shit like that. See, I just couldn’t look up right then on account of my eyes was waterin’.
“So that’s why you watch out for Cory all the time, isn’t it?”
I could feel his eyes studyin’ me, takin’ in the details. So’s I nodded real quick.
“That’s cool. I’d do the very same thing if it’d happened to Ally, man. I’d never leave her side again.”
At that point Cory and Ally came back from the bathroom. Had to admit it, both of ’em looked kinda relieved to see me and Ben sittin’ there, chattin’ like a coupla school girls. Prob’ly thought they’d come back to find us wrestlin’ on the floor, or worse. Almost told ’em all exactly what I was thinkin’, but the waitress came just then with our salads. Prob’ly that was a good thing, huh?
Ben hadn’t swallowed his second bite of Caesar salad, when he got this really funky look on his face. “Uh, excuse me… I need to use the men’s room.”
That there dude ran with impressive speed, almost like he was chasin’ down a pass, directly to the can.
“He didn’t look too good, Ally,” Cory said, all super concerned.
Ally frowned and started to get up. “I’m going to go and see if he’s okay.”
Real fast, I jumped up onto my feet. “Sit down, Ally… and Cory, you keep her company, ’kay? I’ll go and check on him.”
IN THE men’s room, from outta one of them stalls, I heard the sorts o’ sounds that come with major-league sickness, if ya catch my drift.
“Ben, you okay, man?”
Silence. A big-time burp. And finally, “Not really.”
“Your belly’s achin’, ain’t it?” I got my answer from the sound of the dude losin’ what was left of his lunch. I leaned against the sink and waited.
After a coupla minutes, the door to the stall opened to a much more haggard-lookin’ version of Ben than I’d seen just a coupla minutes before. And his dress-to-impress outfit was mighty rumpled. “Brett, I think I might be sick.”
“Ya think?” (Okay, I admit I sounded sarcastic right there, but the dude needed to get real.) I reached out to loosen up Ben’s tie. “We gotta get yer ass home.”
“What about the fashion show? Ally’s gonna be so disappointed…. I can go. I’ll be okay… just give me a second….” Then he made a return trip to the toilet.
After this round of barfin’ stopped, I told him, “You ain’t in no shape to go nowhere but to bed. I’m gonna go talk to Cory and Ally, and then I’m bringin’ you home.”
“But… but….” Time for more barfin’, round three, or was it four?
“Just rest easy, man, and I’ll be back.” Alls I got for an answer was a nauseated groan.
“OKAY, here’s the deal: Ben ain’t feelin’ 100 percent peachy tonight, so’s I thought I’d give him a lift back to his place. Now, that there won’t take me too long, and then I’ll come back and the three of us’ll get our fine-lookin’ asses over to the fashion show, huh?”
Ally got outta her seat, fiddled a bit with the tie on her silky blouse, and said, “No, no, Brett… I’ll go back with you guys, and then I’ll stay with him.”
Placin’ a hand on Ally’s shoulder, I kinda nudged her back down into her seat. “Look here, Ally, Ben don’t want no company tonight, believe me. And besides that, he made me promise that I’d take you two to that there show. Ya think he’s tryin’ to punish me?” That there last part was an attempt at a joke. “Death by fashion torture….”
Ally smiled weakly. “All right, if that’s what he wants, and what you want too.”
“What about your dinner, Brett? You’ll be starving!” Cory was always tryin’ to feed me.
“Don’t worry none about that; I had me a big lunch at the B&G.” I leaned over and gave my boy a kiss right on them super sweet lips. “Now you two go on ahead and have a real nice dinner, and I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
I HADTA pull my truck offa the side of the road three times on the short drive back to Ben’s apartment so’s he could throw up in the woods. Poor dude was in a real bad way. And when we pulled up in front of his place, I insisted on helpin’ to drag him up the stairs, and then he pulled off his clothes, droppin’ ’em into a pile on the floor, and I got him into his bed.
“I stuck this trash can next to the bed when you was in the can, in case, y’know….” I cracked a half smile. “Hope you don’t need it.” Then I stepped over to the bed.
It seemed to take Ben a helluva lot of effort to lift up his head offa the pillow to look at me. “Thanks, Brett, but you’d better stay away from me—I don’t want you to catch what I’ve got; this isn’t any fun at all.”
“Don’t worry, man, I ain’t gonna kiss you or nothin’. I just wanna give you somethin’ to drink.” I handed him a bottle of water that I’d swiped offa his desk.
Leaning back, Ben mumbled, “I owe you, man.”
“Now, go to sleep, if ya can, and I’ll get back to them two at the restaurant.”
Ben already seemed to be dozin’ off. “Thanks for that too….”
“Not a problem, Reed. But I got me one question before I leave.”
Ben’s dark eyes cracked open.
“You sure you ain’t fakin’ sickness to get yer sorry ass outta this fashion show tonight?” I had me a quick chuckle on account o’ the look on his face. “’Cause if you are, dude, payback’s gonna be a real bitch!”
In response, Ben lifted up the wastebasket and pretty much stuck his head right in.
SO’S tonight I had myself two gorgeous dates to the French Club’s Fashion Show. Sure, my belly rumbled a bit, complainin’ all noisy-like that it wasn’t too pleased with missin’ out on supper. But Cory’d put my dinner in a to-go box, and I scarfed down what I could on the ride across campus to the theater. Still, it was worth it, ’cause I thought I mighta scored a coupla extra points in Cory’s book for doin’ what I done. (I didn’t really care a hell of a lot ’bout nobody else’s scorecard.)