Cleats in Clay (4 page)

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Authors: Jackson Cordd

Tags: #Fiction, #Gay, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Erotica

BOOK: Cleats in Clay
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T
HE
next morning, Bobby awoke with the dawn. He had planned to just sleep in, but his body clicked into the old habit of rising early for game days.

He rolled over. The scent of coffee teased at his nostrils. The thought of it roused Bobby from the bed.
After getting dressed into a new shirt and his old jeans, which still looked acceptably clean after only one day’s use, Bobby wandered downstairs. He found Gertie in the dining room.
“Mornin’,” she said with a curt nod.
“Morning, Gertie.”
“Up kinda early….”

“Old habit.” Bobby smiled at her, thinking she didn’t seem like a morning person.
“Have a seat, just fixin’ to scramble some eggs. I’ll bring ya some in a minute,” she said, handing him a mug of coffee. “Sugar, cream, whatnot’s on the table.”
“Thanks.”
Bobby sat at the table and grabbed a sugar packet as she went into the kitchen.

Gertie returned a few minutes later with two large serving platters covered in scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a few muffins. She disappeared again and returned with plates and silverware, and she handed a set to Bobby before sitting down. “Dig in.”

“Thank you.” Bobby loaded up a plate as John stumbled in and muttered something on his way to the kitchen.
John returned with a mug of coffee and sat down, still looking bleary-eyed.
“Good morning to ya,” Bobby said.
“Yeah,” John replied, nursing his coffee.
Gertie just took a piece of toast. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, you have very nice rooms here.”
Gertie nodded. “Even bein’ right on Main Street, everybody says it’s always quiet.”
“It is,” Bobby agreed. “Is there a gym nearby where I could squeeze in a workout this morning?”
“No. Town doesn’t really have one. Different people talked about startin’ some kind of health club from time to time, but it hasn’t ever happened.”
“Oh well, just a thought.”
“Your best bet might be Odis. He has a whole setup over at his place. Hot tub and all,” she said with a wink.
John just grunted and shook his head. “Still too early in the mornin’ to wrap my head around that one.”
“Around what, honey?”
“Odis… and a man.”
“Not for us to worry about,” she told John. She turned to Bobby. “Although, I was thinkin’ last night, after the divorce from Marsha, Odis did seem a bit infatuated with Tucker for a time.”
Bobby nodded. “He said I wasn’t the first guy to ever catch his eye.”
“Well.” She looked directly at Bobby. “I’m not one to meddle— much, anyway—in my younger brother’s business. But he hasn’t had an easy time of things lately, so don’t go jerking him around.”
“Certainly not,” he reassured her. “I’m not that kind of guy.”
“Didn’t think you were, or we’d be having an
entirely
different conversation,” she said strongly.
“Point taken.” Bobby nodded firmly.
“Now, then, Brungess doesn’t have much in the way of things to do. Not much of a tourist town or anything. I’ll see if we can’t come up with something, though. Hate the idea of ya just sitting in your room at loose ends.”
“How about a library? Can always find some reading to catch up on.”
“Great idea. I’ll call over later and set it up. You can take my card and check out a few books, I’m sure.”
“Sounds like a plan.”

T
WO
cups of coffee later, Bobby followed Gertie’s directions to the library and returned with some fiction books to read. He stretched out on his bed upstairs and dug into a recent action novel.

He was only starting chapter three when he heard the beep noise from the hotel phone on his bedside table, indicating an incoming call.
He placed a bookmark and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

A tired voice on the other line said, “Hey, stud. I finished.” “Hi, Odis. You did?”
“Why don’t you grab some fried chicken and beer, then come on

back?”
“All right. What did you make?”
“Nope, nope, don’t spoil the surprise. Just get over here, stud.” “All right. See ya in a bit.”

A
FTER
consulting with Gertie about where to get the chicken and beer, Bobby picked up the supplies and drove back out to Odis’s place. He left the car and pushed the gate button on the back of the box. Before the gate was completely open, Heimdalla raced up and bounced around at his feet. As soon as Bobby opened the car door, she jumped into the backseat and sat, her square tongue hanging out of a doggy-smile face.

“Guess you’re coming along, huh?”

 

Bobby pulled the car into the property, got out, and closed the gate. Heim just watched him from the backseat, happy as a clam.

He pulled the car up in front of the shed and turned off the engine. When Bobby reached in for the bags of food and beer, Heim jumped out and bounced around his feet again. After Bobby retrieved the items and closed the door, Heim raced down the stairs and waited for him at the house door.

Arriving at the bottom of the steps, Bobby saw Odis through the glass. He was sitting at the patio table, looking frightfully like a mad scientist. His hair was all frizzed out, a pair of reading glasses barely clutched to the edge of his nose. The lenses magnified the dark circles under his eyes in a gruesome way. As Bobby approached with the parcels, he could see Odis’s hands were clean, but traces of red clay still clung stubbornly under his fingernails. Odis looked up.

Then Bobby saw the huge grin on Odis’s face and thought he might be one of the sexiest men he’d ever seen.
“Hey, stud, ya made it,” Odis said as he moved to the kitchen, put his eyeglasses on the counter, then fetched some plates.
“Was beginning to wonder if you were gonna call.” Bobby glanced over his disheveled appearance again. “How much sleep did you get?”
“Sleep? I was busy. Just finished a bit ago.”
The men filled up their plates and opened their beers. Bobby sat at the table.
Odis put his plate on the table. “First things first,” he said, and he leaned over Bobby and captured his mouth with a warm kiss. Odis’s tongue tasted spicy and peppery from the weed still lingering on his breath.
“Well, hello to you too,” Bobby sighed when Odis pulled back.

Odis grinned as he took his seat and started eating. He dug into the food as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Bobby doubted he’d had anything since the sandwich yesterday. “So—”

“Patience,” Odis said between bites. “Let a man get some food first.” “All right.”
Odis took a swig from the beer bottle, then held it out to look at the

label. “What kind is this?”
“One of the local brews I got hooked on in Boston. Was surprised to
see it at the liquor store. Hope it’s okay?”
Odis smiled. “It’s a lot better than that piss water out at the
convenience store. It’s
very
okay.” He took another swig and, with a smile,
savored the heavy taste of the hops.
Heim sat down next to Bobby, then put her head on his knee. Odis clucked his tongue. “Scootch on, Heim. Don’t be beggin’. He
ain’t gonna give ya none either.”
“Aah, but she looks like she’s starving,” Bobby teased. Odis clucked his tongue again. “Damn dog ain’t starvin’. Prob’ly
eats more than I do.”
“You heard him,” Bobby said, looking down at the pitiful dog.
“Move along.”
Heim pulled her head off of his knee and scooted over about a foot
before lying down on the floor and exhaling a pitiful sigh.
After devouring about half the food on his plate, Odis pushed it
away. “Now, then.” He took another huge swig of beer, then let out a burp. Bobby finished off his biscuit. “I get to see it now?”
“Wouldn’t mind gettin’ to some other business, but I can tell your
curiosity will eat ya alive if I don’t let ya see it first.” Odis stood and took
his hand, then led him out to the studio.
The piece was covered with a damp towel. This work looked even
larger than the horse, thirty, maybe even thirty-six inches tall. “Now, no touching, it’s still wet,” Odis warned as he carefully
removed the towel.
Done in various hues of red and gray clay stood a huge weeping
willow. Bobby was instantly drawn into the strange beauty of the figure.
The branches and thin tassely leaves of the proudly standing tree leaned to
one side, blown by a phantom breeze.
As Bobby looked closer, he noticed more details. On the ground by
the tree’s trunk lay a scattering of tiny chipped and discarded-looking
bricks, and a tiny broken fishing pole lay atop them. In the upper branches
of the tree, two tiny hummingbirds hovered as they faced each other.
Carved into the bark of the trunk, a tiny heart framed the monogram “nip +
rpl.”
Odis put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder as he admired the work.
“Told ya you weren’t a brick.”
Bobby noticed the words “Happy 40th” inscribed along the face of
the work’s base. “This is
me
?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from
cracking.
“Kinda how I see ya, tall and strong, but branches soft enough to
bend in the wind without breaking.”
Bobby couldn’t keep his eyes from watering as he gazed over the
sculpture. “And this is what Nate asked for?”
Odis chuckled. “Not specifically.” He picked up the moist towel and
carefully placed it back over the clay piece. “He just asked for something
strong and joyful with that inscription. I kinda filled in the rest.” “Why are you covering it? It’s way too beautiful to keep hidden.”
Bobby wiped at his cheek.
Odis rolled his eyes. “Not hiding it. Hafta let it dry slowly or the
clay cracks. Just leave me to my job.”
Bobby distracted himself from his tearful eyes by looking around the
studio. He noticed another covered work on the counter and various
carving supplies near it. “You started another one?”
“Kinda need to talk to you about that.” Odis took Bobby’s hand and
led him back to the house.
Bobby looked down at his hand in Odis’s. It seemed like such an
intimate thing to do, but Odis didn’t even seem to think about it when he
took his hand. Bobby wiped at his cheek again, hoping Odis didn’t think
he was some kind of limp pansy.

Chapter 4

 

W
HEN
they got back inside the house, Bobby helped Odis move the mess from the patio table to the kitchen counter. Odis rinsed off the dishes and left them draining in the sink, then put away the leftover chicken in the fridge while Bobby got two fresh beers.

Feeling more composed, Bobby followed Odis back to the table. Odis took a swig of beer. “Now, then, I need to ask a question that’s prob’ly gonna be painful as fuck for ya to answer, but I do have a reason for asking.”
Bobby took two big swallows of his beer. “All right, then, ask.”
“How exactly did Nathan die?”
Bobby winced. “Aneurism.” He took two more big swallows.
Odis watched him, waiting for the whole story.
“He’d hidden it from me the whole time I knew him. I knew many of his extended family had already died young from something, but he never told me any details, only that it was a genetic thing. Because he seemed so—no, he
was
healthy. So I always assumed he didn’t have whatever affliction it was. I suppose the lies were as much my fault for never asking point-blank for some real details.”
“So he
knew
he had that aneurism,” Odis said.
“I found out in the hospital, when his doctor flew up, that Nate had put off a new surgery the doctor wanted to try. His scan in August had the doctor worried—oh.” Bobby stopped himself. “For about the last decade he’d been having brain scans every six months, I found out. He was basically a walking time bomb.”
They sipped their beers.
“Anyway, doctors had this stint thing they wanted to try, but Nate pushed it off until November. Doctors gave him a whole list of things to avoid, one of which was flying. Damn bastard.”
Bobby sat and tried to breathe. “The aneurism burst when he was in the cab leaving the airport, and all the bleeding pretty much scrambled his brain. You can guess the rest.”
Odis got up and returned from the kitchen with two more beers. “Nathan seems pretty noble to me,” he said as he handed one to Bobby.

Noble
? How the fuck do you get that? He lied to me for twenty-two years. Even in August, he didn’t say one word about the doctor or the surgery. He
could
have told me about it all then, at least.”
“And if he had told ya, in August, what would you have done?”
“Made him get the surgery.”
Odis frowned as he sat back down. “
Made
him?”
“No. You know.”
“You would have nagged him about it. And you would have worried about it. It would have put you off your game. If Nathan knew it was your last season, he wouldn’t have wanted to take that away from you.”
“Yeah, he knew I was retiring.”
“Of course he did. And he was being altruistic, letting you have the last of your career before droppin’ all of
his
shit on you. Or trying to, anyway. He knew the Series wouldn’t be over until November.”
Bobby scowled at him.
“Go ahead and get pissed at me, if it helps. But you know I’m right. I’m sure Nathan felt that he was on borrowed time for those last ten years and didn’t want to waste a second of it with fretting or what-ifs.”
Bobby just stewed in his chair.
Odis left him alone for a few minutes before continuing. “I told you I had a reason for asking.”
“And what would that be?” Bobby said, trying to hide the hard edge in his tone.
“Nathan’s work order was actually for two commissions. One for April 1, which was for your birthday. The other… well, it seems a bit macabre to me, but it’s not my call in the long run.”
“What
is
the other one?” Bobby asked.
“He attached CAT and X-ray scans of himself for me to make a bust that he wanted delivered to your address on July 3.”
“He wanted me to get his
head
for our anniversary?
After
he died? That twisted fuck.”
“Well, I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I hafta wonder, since the order was filled out October 16.”
“That’s… that was the day before the first game of the Series.”
“So, hafta wonder.” Odis shrugged. “Seems Nathan knew the risk he was taking by getting on that plane and wanted to leave you something, just in case.”
Bobby just shook his head and slumped further into the chair. “Now I’m just confused. What the hell was he up to?”
“I certainly can’t say, I didn’t really know the man. But you see the macabre element I was talkin’ about. I thought maybe there was some point to it I didn’t see.”
“None that I’m aware of, either.” As he pondered it, though, it seemed maybe Nate had more future surprises in store. Bobby sat up and finished off the rest of his beer. “I mean, a bust might be nice down the road sometime, but I’m glad I found out now instead of having it just show up out of the blue in July. That’s just too soon. Opening a box with his head in it would have been
utterly
creepy.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Odis agreed as he drained his beer.
Bobby looked over at Odis. The man looked exhausted, like he needed about twelve hours of sleep. The darkened circles under his eyes drooped almost as much as his eyelids. “I should go. You need some rest.”
“Yeah, the beer’s crashing me.”
Bobby stood and stretched, feeling his back pop. “Oh, Gertie said I should ask you about working out here.”
“On the west side, across the patio just past the stairs, is a little gym room. You’re welcome to it.” Odis glanced over at Bobby’s jeans. “Do you have some workout clothes? Very doubtful any of mine would fit you.”
“No, I didn’t really plan on staying around, so I didn’t pack anything.”
“There’s a Walmart over by Hutchinson, about twenty minutes from town. If ya think it’s worth the trouble.”
“All right.”
Odis stood up and walked over to Bobby. He rubbed his hand across Bobby’s chest. “I had hoped to pick up where we left off yesterday—”
“You look like you’re about to pass out, though. Better just get your butt in bed. I’ll see if I can find that Walmart and come back later.”
Odis gave his bicep a squeeze as Bobby turned to the door. “Come back later, then.”
“Sleep tight,” Bobby said as he left the house.

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