Turnabout 1
Seven
By Chris G
“Oh! Josh!” was all I could muster. The announcement of his name took the strength from my legs, and I fell back into the chair next to the phone.
“Uh… you got time to talk?” He sounded very unsure of himself, which was totally unlike the Josh Barrett I knew and wanted/hated.
“Yeah, I guess.” For some reason, probably outright fear, I sounded a lot rougher than I meant to.
“Um, well, if you wanted to, um… could we meet in the park in a few minutes?” The park was close to the school, about ten minutes’ walk from my place.
“Sure, I guess.” I attempted a more normal voice. “Yeah, sure. See you there in fifteen minutes?” I had no idea where Josh even lived, let alone how long it would take him to get there. But I had no desire to get into a protracted conversation about it. I simply couldn’t trust myself.
“Yeah, that’ll be OK.”
“Fine,” I responded, and then just hung up the phone. Oh just great, David! Sure, just hang up on him. What’s he going to think now? Man, I had to get myself together! It was the feeling that the phone was about to burn my hand which had made me get rid of the receiver so fast. Well, no time for a long introspection about it. I’d just have to head for the park, and hope to hell I got my head sorted by the time I got there.
I hadn’t even noticed the weather as I’d rushed home from Will’s. The moment I got out the door, I realized I’d need a heavier coat. The wind had come up and the temperature had gone down with the onset of dusk. Grey clouds covered the sky and the air was bitter. No more eating lunches outside for Will and me, I thought as I changed into my down-filled jacket.
The walk to the park was a lot slower than the mad rush home of just a little while ago. I moved forward as though to my own execution. What revolved in my head was, as everything else lately had seemed to be, two conflicting thoughts: the need to be on guard against any more of Josh’s accusations of being gay and wanting him, and a feeling of shame and remorse for the way I had treated him in the locker room. But was he really going to try that stuff on me any more? I thought back to the short conversation we’d just had. He’d sounded really hesitant, and hadn’t forced anything. I was the one who’d come off sounding dominant.
I got to the park and looked around. It was really not much more than a kids’ playground, with just a few benches and picnic tables added as a place for adults to wait. I could see the whole thing from where I stood, and there was no Josh.
I shivered slightly, and it wasn’t just the temperature. Then, as I shuffled about trying to stay warm, I heard a car pull up to the curb in the street behind me. I turned to see Josh getting out of a maroon Trans Am, fairly new. Figures, I thought to myself. Rich boy showing off. I could actually feel the sneer forming on my face. I even reached up with my hand to brush it off. I took a deep breath as he approached me.
His head was down, seeming to inspect every step he took. He stopped when he was about five feet away, and glanced up at me. “Hi,” was all he said, and his head went back down. Right away I could feel what was going on here, and there was nothing of dominance about his demeanor. I could feel my shoulders starting to lose their stiffness, and I even shook them a little inside my jacket, trying to ease the strain I realized I’d been feeling ever since the phone call.
“Hey, Josh,” I said quietly.
“Uh, look, David…” He still wasn’t looking at me.
“Josh,” I interrupted, “I’m not proud of what I did to you Friday. I tried to tell you that then, but I wasn’t sure how much you were getting. That’s why I gave you my number. But I’ll say again what I said then—this whole thing between us has been wrong from the word go, especially that last part. I’m going to do my best to forget all about it, and I’m hoping you’ll be man enough to do the same.”
Wow, what a speech. Sometimes I amaze myself. It seemed that the reality of Josh standing in front of me, head down, had cleared away all the imaginings I’d been torturing myself with. I found I was capable of rational speech, of taking a position, of being strong.
Josh finally looked up and actually concentrated on me. “David, I’m… I’m glad you feel that way. I really made an exhibition of myself over this whole thing, and that business in the locker room…” He stopped and cleared his throat, then took a deep breath. “I was way out of line, and I’m sorry. You showed me what a jerk I’ve been.”
It was my turn for the deep breath. He’d apologized. He’d actually apologized—to me! Well, turn about was fair play.
“Josh, there needs to be apologies both ways. What I did to you there, the way I made you feel—man, I wasn’t proud of myself for that.”
“Look, uh… it’s kind of cold and dreary out here. You want to come sit in the car?”
“Sure. Let’s do that.”
We walked over to the Trans Am, Josh leading the way. He took out his keys and hit the remote lock button so that I could get in without waiting for him. We settled in the leather-appointed interior and he fired the beast up, letting the warmth of the heater wash over us. A CD started playing softly.
Neither of us said anything for a while. I think each of us needed some time to gauge the other, to see where our traded apologies had brought us to. For myself, I was catching just a hint of a different Josh Barrett, and it was just enough to make me want to explore further to see if the hint was only my imagination.
Josh finally spoke. “Sometimes I just can’t figure myself out,” he said. He was back to looking anywhere but at me. “You know, I didn’t have to do all that shit I did to you last week. Yeah, I was mad about getting the suspension, and needed to blame somebody. But I knew I was wrong about that way before you told me… Friday afternoon.”
Every time he spoke about anything to do with that scene in the locker room, his voice caught.
“So you did hear what I said,” I replied, trying to make it sound light rather than accusatory. “Listen, Josh, please try to put that whole thing out of your mind. We were both… I don’t know, crazy or something. I’ve been driving myself nuts all weekend thinking about that.” Of course, I didn’t tell him how I’d been thinking about it. That part wouldn’t help matters at all. “I just want to tell you again that you don’t have to worry about me saying anything about that to anyone. I haven’t even told Will.”
I don’t know why that last sentence seemed to echo in the car. There seemed to be a lot more significance to it than I’d meant. Josh looked at me for the first time since we’d got into the car.
“Well, I guess I know you’re serious about that,” was his rather startling comment. Before I could react, he continued. “OK, I’ll do my best. You can be sure that I’m not going to say anything either. But what gets me,” he went on, in louder and angrier tones, “is why I do stuff like that! I mean, I don’t set out to be—what did you call me? King shit?—but it just seems like I fall into the role and I start to take it seriously! Then I get mad at myself for doing it, but I just keep right on doing it.”
“Well,” I said slowly, “if you want my opinion…” I paused and looked over at him. He nodded, encouraging me to go on. “Well, I think it’s really the people you hang out with.” I stopped, and he looked puzzled. I’d thought he might have got mad over that statement, but all I saw in his face was a desire for me to explain. “Seriously, I think that the type of people you seem to have around you all the time want you to be like that. They’re the type who look for a… I don’t know, a leader I guess, and they just eat up the reflected glory from being the friends of someone who can do the kind of stuff you do. They can’t be that way themselves, so they find someone who can do it for them.” I snorted at myself in mock derision. “That’ll be five cents, please!” I chuckled and held out my hand. Josh reached out and slapped it lightly with his own.
“Actually,” he said, “I think what you just said is worth a lot more than five cents. David…” He paused and took another deep breath. “I… I think if I’d been friends with a few more people like you, I’d be better off for it.”
“Well,” I fired right back, “it’s never too late.” I was looking directly at him. He’d turned his head away during his last remark, and was now slowly looking back toward me. I held his eyes as I repeated, “It’s never too late.”
“You… you mean it?” He was actually blushing.
“If I say it once, I pretty well mean it. If I say it twice, I absolutely mean it.”
“Whoa!” he breathed. After a pause, he said diffidently, “If you’re not doing anything right now, how about… would you like to come over to my place? We can talk some more, maybe.”
“Yeah, Josh. I’d like that.”
He broke out into a smile for the first time since we’d met. “Great!” And he gunned the Trans Am, tearing away from the curb so fast my head snapped back against the seat.
I had no idea where we were going, but I soon began to get a hint. We were moving into one of the more up-scale areas of the city, and the road we were on began winding up a hill. I began seeing long driveways with gate posts on either side, then with gates guarding them. We continued on up the hill and driveways disappeared altogether. At last, the road ended with a larger circle which permitted cars to turn and head back down. At the far left side of the circle was a large pair of wrought iron gates. Josh drew up to a control box and tapped a few keys. The gates swung open and we drove through.
My mouth was dropping further and further. There was no sign of the house. The driveway continued climbing up another slight rise then swung around a turn. When we cleared a belt of trees on our left, Josh’s house was revealed. Although to call it house seemed far too ordinary, too weak, too… insubstantial, which the house definitely was not. It spread, long, low, very modern-looking in a way that said modern of another era. White stucco predominated, with a red tile roof accenting the brilliance of the walls. Lush green plantings provided a cover which screened the foundations of the building. To the far right sat a four-bay garage. The driveway broadened into a very large circle in front of the main entrance, and in the middle of that circle sat a large, ornate sculpture in a pool of water. The pool reflected the sky, and I suspected that when the sun shone, the effect would be magnificent.
“Wow!” I uttered.
Josh grinned. “Yeah, it takes most people that way. It’s just home for me, though. Actually, my grandfather had it built back in the twenties. They had some really radical ideas about architecture then, and he had it designed by some young guy no one had ever heard tell of. This house made that architect’s fortune. Once grandad’s friends saw this, the guy had commissions coming out of his ears.”
“I’ll bet the inside looks every bit as good as the outside.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad. Grandad had a famous interior designer do the whole thing. I guess everyone thought it was just right, because no one’s ever changed anything except for some pieces of furniture. Thing’s too much like a shrine for me, though. I mean, it’s OK, but I just feel like I don’t dare do anything because I might ruin it all, you know?”
“I’ll bet! Makes you keep your room clean when you don’t really want to, right?”
Josh laughed. He had a nice laugh, actually, and I felt really good hearing it. We seemed to have gotten over the very embarrassed beginnings of our meeting of just, what, half an hour ago.
“Well, come on in and I’ll give you the grand tour.”
He had parked the car just to the left of the huge front door. The entryway was designed to impress. There weren’t actual pillars, but the doorway was recessed, and strong stone abutments stood out from it on either side, crossed very high up by another stone slab. It was almost like going into a mausoleum.
The house, once you got inside, presented a much more compact and cozy appearance. That was because it seemed to have been designed in a series of hubs. All on one floor, these hubs grouped the most common rooms in the center, and then radiated short hallways out to the sleeping quarters. Josh led me from the entryway through to a massive family room. He pointed out his father’s study/library, a games room, an AV room where you could do some serious viewing or music listening in a very controlled environment, and even a room which Josh described as a miniature ballroom.
A short walk down one of the halls led to a dining room, with a massive restaurant-style kitchen beyond. Another hall leading from the central area led to guest rooms (four), then the master suite. Josh had his own section of the house, it seemed, because his room was down yet another hallway.
He opened the one door at the end of it, and it seemed as though we were in a completely different house. Immediately past the door, two broad, carpeted steps led down to a living-room-like space, with couches, chairs, and a large entertainment center against one wall. On the opposite wall, large windows looked down over the hill to the twinkling lights of the city below. Josh walked over to the wall and hit a button. Lights came up and heavy drapes rolled silently over the windows.
He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Try closing your mouth, David. I think you might get carpet burn on your chin if you walk around too much like that.”
I shook myself and managed to bring myself together. He’d laughed again after saying that to me, and again I found that I really liked it when he laughed. I said exactly that to him without even thinking.
He looked at me, then said slowly, “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me, David.”
I felt the heat rising in my face. Josh said, “You do that a lot, don’t you?”
“What? Oh, you mean blush?”
“Yeah, blush. With all the shit I’ve been putting you through this past week, I’ve never heard you say too much. But I’ve seen that red in your face a lot.”
“Well, I guess I show my emotions too easily. Just the sensitive type, I guess.” I gave a short laugh, trying to shrug the whole thing off.
“I think that’s cool. I’ve never really been too good with emotions. I guess I’ve been brought up to carry the family banner and remember my position in the community.” Josh used a really formal, almost British-sounding accent when he said that. He then snorted. “I always thought it was all bullshit, but I guess that stiff-upper-lip thing just got ingrained in me. I wish I could relax it sometimes.”
“Well, you look pretty relaxed now.”
“Thanks to you.”
That sentence seemed to take on a life of its own and went on ringing in my head. Josh, after a short pause when he seemed to want to take it back, went on. “No, I mean it, David. I was really nervous about calling you today, and even more nervous when I finally saw you there in the park. I can’t even begin to describe how I felt Friday after I got home. I just couldn’t stop playing that scene there in the locker room over and over in my mind. Man, that wasn’t me at all. At least, I hope it wasn’t.” A troubled look flashed across his face. “But that’s what made me call you. I did hear what you said to me at the end, although I didn’t really, I guess, process it right then. But I heard you over and over again in my mind saying what you did, and the more I listened to it, the more I felt I had to get to know you. If only I could get over what I’d done to you.” He staggered to a stop on that last sentence, once again seeming to feel the weight of his meanness to me.
I had to do something here—no, I wanted to do it. “Josh, I’m really glad you made the effort. Because from what I’ve seen in the short time we’ve spent together, I’d have to say that you aren’t at all the way I saw you last week. I think you’re someone I’d really like to get to know. You know?” And I giggled, trying to take the heaviness away from what I’d just said.
He laughed, and his face lighted up when he did. “David, I… thanks, man!”
We spent a while looking at the various things in his room. Or, more like, rooms. It was really a suite, with the big living room and not one, but two bedrooms, and of course a bathroom complete with Jacuzzi. We listened to some music and then flipped through the channels of his satellite-equipped big-screen TV.
“Say, it’s getting late and you sure haven’t eaten since you’ve been here. Did you have anything at home before you met me?”
“Well, no.” And then I realized that I was ravenously hungry.
“Well let’s fix that. I’m starved. The folks are probably in, and they must be thinking about eating. It’s about the usual time.” He picked up a phone and punched two buttons. “Yeah, hi mom. Listen, I’ve got a friend with me. Can we feed him? Uh huh, sure.” And he put down the phone. “OK, you’re staying. Oh, that is, if you want to, of course.”
I laughed. “What a quick change from dictator to charming host!” A little look of worry flashed across Josh’s face. “Hey, man, I’m just teasing! I’d love to stay if it’s no trouble. Look, can I just phone home and let my folks know where I am?”
“Sure, just use that phone. You don’t have to do anything special, just dial the number.”
The phone had a few extra buttons which I figured had something to do with that intercom thing he’d obviously used to talk to his mother in another part of the house. I called and told my folks where I was. They were quite happy to let me stay.
Dinner with Josh and his parents was excellent. Josh’s folks were pretty down to earth, even if they were expecting him to uphold the family position. His dad was the owner of one of the city’s prominent industrial concerns, which manufactured high-tech computer components. He told me, actually quite modestly, that he’d worked hard to change what had been a long-held family business in this new direction just to make sure that the business could continue to exist. He’d worked hard and well, and it showed.
Josh’s mother was very pleasant. She had her own small business doing landscape designs. She worked out of offices over the garage.
We talked a lot through dinner. At least, Josh’s parents and I talked. Josh himself listened for the most part, adding only a few things here and there. I was surprised when I looked at my watch after finishing my dessert and saw that we’d spent two hours at the table.
“Wow! I had no idea it was that late!”
Josh said, “Yeah, school tomorrow, and I guess we need our beauty sleep.” He laughed that wonderful laugh again. “How about I drive you home?”
“Sure,” I answered. “But how about you try leaving my head attached to my spinal column this time?” Josh laughed again, marvelously.
His dad said, “Showing off again, Josh?”
I cut in before he could answer. “Well, sir, it wasn’t all that bad. I just wasn’t expecting a Trans Am to deliver quite that much g-force.”
His dad smiled. “Well, pilot’s licenses are easily revoked. There’s all kinds of aviation rules that have to be obeyed.” Josh laughed yet again.
We went back to his part of the house and picked up our jackets, talking about minor school things. The drive back to my house was spent mostly in a companionable silence, the kind of thing you can feel totally at ease with when you’re comfortable with someone. Josh and I seemed to have found that comfort. At least, as far as I could tell. I wasn’t reading any discomfort from him.
He pulled up in front of my house, having followed my directions from the park. He turned toward me. “David, I really want to thank you for what you’ve done for me. You’ve let me show my real self instead of that swelled-head idiot thing I do at school. And I also think you’ve shown me the way to get rid of that part of me.”
“Josh, I thank you. I had a wonderful time today, and I think I can say that I’ve found a new friend.”
“Wow,” was all he answered. We just looked at each other for a while under the soft dome light of the car. Then Josh said, “Well, I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Good night, Josh.”
“Good night.”
It wasn’t until I was standing on the sidewalk watching his tail lights disappear down the street that it hit me. After his “Wow”, and while we were in that pause, he’d reached over and squeezed my hand.
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