down in a different patch of grass.
“Give it up!” Don changed the subject by asking, “How’re you holding up?”
Eddie raised his head. “Okay, I guess. My T-cell count is as high as ever.”
“Good. But I meant,” Don said, leaning across the table, “how’re you doing—without Ray?”
Eddie sighed. “It never gets easier, does it.” He stared through his sunglasses into empty space. “I’m gonna wake up one day and the pain won’t be as bad. So far that hasn’t happened.”
“We’re glad you’re going out again. We missed you,” Don said sympathetically. “Besides, don’t you think Ray would want you to get back into life?”
Eddie wiped his shades clean with the tail of his tank top. “Don’t know what that means anymore. All I remember about ‘life’ is Ray getting sick and me taking care of him without the Navy finding out. Then he died. Other than that, I don’t have a fucking clue what ‘life’ is.”
“We’re all here for you—Karl, me, Robbi, Jeanne. Let us know what you need.”
“What I need is to get past this grief.” Eddie’s face projected raw pain. “I was sad when my father died but I didn’t feel physical pain. But now it feels like someone’s swingin’ a crowbar against the inside of my skull, that’s how painful the grief is. I was twenty-two when we met and we spent ten years together. I appreciate that y’all are here for me.” He looked at his pet, who sensed he was experiencing emotional trauma. “I’ve got Rocky—don’t I, boy—even if you won’t fetch. But I don’t know how anyone could help, other than what you’re already doing.”
“I’ve been there.”
“I know.” Eddie’s tone mellowed. “Does a day go by that you don’t—you don’t—?”
“That I don’t think about him?” Don turned his head away from Karl’s volleyball match and stared at Eddie, his closest friend for almost half his life. “When I’m busy, I might go a few hours without thinking about him. But that just makes it more painful when things slow down and I remember his little half-smile, with a corner of his mouth turned up, remember that?”
“Yes, very much.” Eddie nodded and smiled. “You two were quite the pair.”
“And a million other little things about him. I think about those all the time. It gets different. Life goes on. But honestly? I wouldn’t say it gets easier.” They sat, silently losing track of time.
“Don’t you think that he would want you to get back out there?” Eddie finally asked.
A cool breeze blew up the steep hill from the bay, and a salty ocean scent wafted gently across the park. “The wind’s shifting direction. It’ll get chilly again as the sun sets.”
“Quit changing the subject,” Eddie ordered. “Let you get away with that too many times. We both gotta get back into life. This is something we could do together.” Eddie seemed surprised at his switch from emotional paralysis to action, like he’d found a reservoir of strength.
They’d helped each other in rough times. “We’re young—maybe not for the military—but who cares? They would want us out there.” Both men were misty-eyed, sad over their past losses but happy they had each other. They hugged, sealing their agreement to get back into life.
“Your protégé is trying to tell you something.” Eddie pointed over Don’s shoulder.
Don cupped his hand over his ear. “What’d you say?” He pointed toward a jet just a few hundred yards above their heads. “Can’t hear you over the noise of the plane landing!”
“Too bad there ain’t always a plane landing when Karl’s around,” Eddie said.
The plane passed. “Unless you wanna go somewhere to lick each other’s pussies in private,” Karl said, “Dominic and Jack gotta leave. We need more players, even you sorry old asses.”
Don tossed his half-full can into the trash and looked at Eddie. “What do you say?”
“How about you, boy? Wanna go play with the big dogs?” Rocky, realizing things were changing, sprang to life. For the first time in over a year, Eddie looked hopeful. “I’m ready to get into the game if you are.” The men and the dachshund headed for the sandy pit.
3
“Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for landing.”
After studying the ground from thirty thousand feet for over an hour, Patrick McAbe questioned how a city existed between the vast barren desert and the Pacific Ocean. His first impression of the Southwest was that it resembled an extraterrestrial world. As the plane approached San Diego, though, he was happy to see lush green suburbs, creeks and ponds and a large park near downtown, signs that life thrived at the edge of a hostile environment. His new home looked nothing like Chicago just as his new life looked nothing like his old one.
Nearing his destination, his mind raced back in time eight months.
Hundreds of cars filled the parking lot, leaving four spaces open in a corner. Patrick parked but remained seated for ten minutes. His pulse raced and the heat soared. I’m thirsty. He searched for a bottle of water. Shit! What kind of Marine forgets water? His flight instructor had advised the students to steer clear of Pensacola Beach over the weekend, or else thousands of guys from all over the South would hit on them. The conservative religious town in Florida’s panhandle seemed like an unlikely gay destination but he said it happened every Memorial Day. What kind of Marine goes where everyone knows the place will be packed with gay men?
It doesn’t matter because I’m not—I’m not—but he knew better. Now that he’d decided not to marry Karen and had broken their engagement, nothing stood between him and the truth. He could be it, do it or even say it out loud if he wanted. “I’m—g—gay.” His voice was sheepish but he’d said it, and saying it aloud gave him new energy. Each breath was deeper and easier, and his shoulders and spine felt relaxed. He’d said it! He started laughing. “I’m gay!”
A voice with a heavy Southern accent outside his open car window said, “Well, honey, I’m just overjoyed that you’re gay but I need to know if you’re coming or going.” The remaining three spaces were taken and a large man in a red Cabriolet convertible wanted Patrick’s spot.
Patrick opened the door and waved apologetically. “Staying,” he said as the man sped away. There’s nothing wrong with this, he assured himself. I’m at a warm beach on a sunny day and I’m just looking for a concession stand to buy a bottle of water. That’s all. As he stepped onto the pavement, he grabbed his towel—just in case he wanted to stay—and headed for the ocean. Several cars had Department of Defense decals. Are there other military guys on this beach?
Before May 1992, Patrick had never cared much about politics and he didn’t know anyone who paid attention to the subject of gays in the military. By now, though, everyone in the armed forces was aware that the Democratic Party’s nominee for president had vowed to end the ban that prevented gays and lesbians from serving. Although the Arkansas governor’s promise had set off a firestorm within the military, no one believed he stood a chance against President Bush.
Patrick glanced
