NOTE: This is the fictional coming of age story of Jake Grimke as he matures through high school, into college and eventually into adulthood in the Baltimore, Maryland region. It contains and embraces accurate representations of life in Baltimore and its suburbs; Maryland's traditional sport of lacrosse and the career path a firefighter might follow in his profession. All of the characters in this story are fictional and resemblance to any one person whether dead or alive is purely coincidental. If you liked this installment, please send me some feed back; I got a rough idea where this is headed but I am always open to some suggestions. Needless to say, if you are offended by handsome athletic young men growing up gay and the obstacles they will encounter as well their personal triumphs, you should use the BACK button on your browser forthwith.
Jake helped his parents pack the Honda with the bulk of their luggage for the week-long Grimke family vacation on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. And while there was always an old lacrosse stick and a few balls rolling around in the trunk of his Saab, he tossed an extra stick just in case one of the cousins wanted to have a toss along with his own bag which only had clothes in it for his own stay which was shortened to three days so that he could have a few more days back in Severn before all his friends from high school went their separate directions for college.
It had been quite a while since all the Grimkes were under one roof; the last time Jake remembered was when they still lived in Baltimore and made a similar week long stay on the Outer Banks. Of the five Grimke cousins, Jake was the oldest, less than a month from turning 18. Next were John and Roberta; 15 and 12 respectively who were the children of Randy, John Grimke's older brother and his wife Amber. And lastly there was 10 year old Chloe and 12 year old Michael Marsh who were Jake's cousins from his father's sister, Elizabeth Grimke who was married to Philadelphia investment banker Craig Marsh.
Just after sun up and a light breakfast, the Grimkes caravanned off from their Severn neighborhood down Route 301 and across the Nice Bridge into Virginia before turning east onto Route 17 at Port Royal with the Saab following the Honda. At Newport News in Virginia, the cars picked up Interstate 64 and then took the bypass around the Tidewater area popping out in Chesapeake before the final leg of the trip on Route 168 into North Carolina and then back up Route 12 into the town of Duck.
Jake's grandparents, John Grimke, Senior and Margret, had been the first to arrive at the big beach house sandwiched on the barrier island between the sound and the Atlantic. After a quick hug from his grandparents, Jake helped unload the cars of cooler and luggage before Jake set off with his father and grandfather to get food for the barbecue for tonight and enough breakfast food for the big Sunday morning breakfast.
By the time they were back from picking up the food and other necessities that weren't packed or completely forgotten, Craig and Elizabeth Marsh had arrived with their kids and staked out a room on the first floor. It had been decided that the boy cousins and girl cousins would each have a room to sleep in until they found that the promised roll-away bed was not exactly there. Jake volunteered to sleep on the extra large sofa in the great room of the house on the upper level, sandwiched between the upper level master bedroom where his parents would sleep and the big kitchen.
In between text messages with Jose, Jake drank a cold beer with his father and grandfather at the grill loaded with burgers and dogs while the older Grimke men discussed what disaster Randy would bring with their clan to liven up their vacation. Uncle Craig had taken his kids up to the beach leaving all the women in the kitchen. Just as dinner was being put on the table, Randy arrived with Amber and their kids. And as much as Jake tried hard to be everybody's friend, there was just something about Randy Grimke that rubbed him, and others, the wrong way. On the outside, Jake was all smiles and hugs and handshakes while on the inside he looked at his father's older brother and wondered why he could never hold a job or why they kept moving further and further into the southwest corner of Virginia.
And then it hit Jake like a ton of bricks as soon Randy opened his mouth, "Well, how are you Mr. Hot Shot Field Hockey Player?"
Jake bristled, "Fine Uncle Randy, just fine, how are you?"
"I'm good, young John is doing real well at a real sport: football. I expect he'll probably be a starter this year on varsity just like his dad was."
Jake didn't even bother starting with his soliloquy about why he thought football was a such lame sport, smiling to himself about his own successful lacrosse career before he responded, "you must be really proud of his success."
"Oh we are, and Roberta is going great guns with cheering; she even spent two weeks at cheerleading camp earlier this summer," Randy said, reaching for one of the Sam Adams in the big cooler on the deck.
With two picnic tables matched up end to end, Jake naturally placed himself into the middle, bridging the generation gap between the Grimke siblings and the Grimke cousins. Jake liked Aunt Liz as she liked to be called and her husband, Craig, who maintained his preppy frat boy image well into his early forties, even though he was a painfully successful investment banker. It seemed that everything he touched turned to gold, even during the darkest of economic times.
And their son Michael, never Mike or Mikey or any other derivative of Michael was beaming with pride to tell Jake, "I'm playing lacrosse now like you."
And Jake replied with his typical line of questioning, "what position?"
"Middie," answered Michael, "did you bring your stick Jake?"
"You bet, I don't go far without it," Jake said with a smile.
"Cool, we should have a toss later on cuz," Michael said enthusiastically.
"How about tomorrow morning, first thing, I promise," Jake said with a tussle of Michael's hair.
"Deal," Michael said, holding his hand out to shake.
Jake encouraged Michael and Chloe to help clear the plates from the table while Uncle Randy's kids lazily sat at there and waiting for dessert. It was clear to Jake that Randy and the rest of his brood eschewed any sort of responsibility. The only, if any exception to this was possibly Amber who excused herself from the table to help Emma and her mother-in-law load the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen while Randy sat at the table with another cold beer he didn't pay for.
There was certain amount of tension building as Randy just lumbered through the rest of the evening, not offering anything to the assembled Grimke clan, just siphoning whatever he wanted off the top. On the lower level, Jake put in a DVD of one of the Ice Age animated movies to watch with his younger cousins to the delight of all and before the final Scrat versus Acorn scene, all were asleep under the protective arms of cousin Jake.
Once the parents led their kids to bed, Jake went upstairs to the great room and stretched out on the couch. He attempted to text Jose but didn't get an immediate response before he too fell asleep in just his lacrosse shorts and a tee shirt, his socks stuffed inside his Nike Shox sitting at the edge of the couch.
Morning came and Jake slid back into his sox and Shox as his father and grandfather entered the kitchen to start making a firehouse-style breakfast of eggs, sausage gravy and biscuits. Before long, Michael joined them in the kitchen and reminded Jake of his promise, having dragged his own stick out of their car.
"Got to fuel up first Michael," Jake said, "then, I'm going to put you through one of my workout so I hope you are ready."
"What are we going to do Jake," Michael asked enthusiastically.
"You just wait Michael, just wait," Jake said, "I got big plans for you today."
"Cool Jake, can't wait," beamed Michael.
Jake had no real idea what he was going to do with Michael who was just starting lacrosse. He figured he could come up with a couple of drills for his cousin and show him a stick trick or two to impress his team mates with when he returned to Philadelphia.
Before long, breakfast was just about ready, Jake helping the older Grimke men and taking mental notes on the details of fixing sausage gravy and biscuits. Jake and his grand dad were knocking back some coffee as the meal came together and said, "I'm looking forward to catching some tuna tomorrow."
"We should have a good time out there; from what I've heard, the bluefin are running heavy this year," John Grimke Senior told his oldest grandson; "you know any good tuna recipes?"
"I'm sure we can come up with something," Jake said in the company of the senior Grimke firefighting clan.
And after breakfast while Jake and Michael talked lacrosse, John and Roberta were fighting over which game to play in their Wii console that they brought from home with them. It was enough to send Jake outside where he find a set of steps to one of the upper decks on the house. With Michael in tow, he showed him how to do pull ups using the back of the stair riser to pull himself up. Jake knocked out a set of ten and then helped Michael through a set, getting him to eight.
Then Jake ran Michael at a gentle pace to the community tennis courts that just had an older couple playing while they went to the cinder block wall where Jake showed him how to do one-handed catches.
"Try for 50 in a row, Michael," Jake said, knowing that he usually did 100 after he demonstrated with almost apparent ease.
After a few false starts, Michael caught a rhythm and went past 50 as Jake counted out each successive catch proudly until Michael bonked at 63. Jake boomed an "outstanding" worthy of any Marine Corps gunnery sergeant and hugged Michael before encouraging him to switch to his weaker left side to try the catches. Just like before, Michael faltered the first few times until he found his stride and finally hit 50. Michael didn't complain one bit at the workout Jake was putting him through. After the wall catches, Jake ran him slowly up to the beach where they tossed the ball back and forth, gradually increasing the span as Michael mastered the each greater distance confidently.
Before long, one of the beach lifeguards approached the pair and stated authoritatively, "sign says no ball playing until 4 pm,"
Michael volunteered an immediate, "We're sorry sir."
"Ditto for me," Jake said, extending his right hand to shake as he sized up the shirtless blonde lifeguard who had just finished sizing him up, "by the way, I'm Jake, Jake Grimke."
The lifeguard couldn't help but smile, "I'm Carson West; nice to meet you Jake. There's an unprotected section of beach about 200 yards north of here, up where the surfers are if you want to toss it up there. Usually a pick up game of beach lacrosse starting around 5 or so, you might wanna check it out."
"Sounds good Carson, do I need to bring anything?" Jake asked as he released the firm handshake.
"Nah, nothing too crazy, no pads, no gloves, no brain bucket," Carson explained with a smile
Jake nodded, "I'll try to be there."
"Looking forward to it Jake," Carson said with a smile as he turned and headed back to his stand.
"Can I come too Jake?" Michael begged.
"We'll see, the level of play might be a little advanced for you," Jake said, knowing that it would probably be guys closer to Jake's age than Michael's and the play would probably be fairly aggressive; "your mom and dad would might be a little pissed if I brought you back bruised, broken and beat up."
Michael signed a little, "I know, can't hurt to ask."
"You did good today, keep it up and you will be a starter for sure," Jake said with encouragement as they finished their toss and jogged back to the beach house.
After a lunch break and short nap, Jake grabbed his stick and slid into his compression shorts with a cup stuffed in the center pouch and pulled up his mesh Severn lacrosse shorts and went back to the beach, making sure Carson saw him as he jogged up to the surfer's area. He watched the surfers of varying age and ability wearing their rash guards and shortie wetsuits and wondered if he could do it. Jake checked his dive watch and as the minute hand got closer to straight up 5 o'clock, assorted men not much older or younger than him began appearing with lacrosse sticks and coolers.
Not long before 5 pm, Carson arrived and found Jake and claimed him for his team. The pick up game lasted until almost 6:30 when a few announced they had to head back for dinner or other obligations which dwindled the numbers down to two on two which promised to be a lot of work for those left and not too much fun. As they wrapped up and began to disperse, Carson asked, "Hey Jake, tomorrow is my day off, think we could hang out?"
Instantly, the phrase `think we could hang out" set off alarms in Jake's head as he remembered the simple phrase Will Hurley had taught him less than a year before and its implied meaning among men like him. Jake replied, with a vivid image of Jose in his head, "I'm going on a fishing trip tomorrow."
"Oh well," Carson replied, "just thought I try, you seem like a pretty cool guy to hang with."
Making the best of the situation, Jake answered, "Thanks, you too Carson, but going on a family fishing trip tomorrow and then heading home on Tuesday."
"Awwww man that sucks," Carson sighed out loud, "damn Jake Grimke, that really sucks."
"Sorry bro, I bet we could have fun though," Jake said, leaning in to give Carson a sweaty sandy hug.
"Can I call you some time?" Carson asked, trying to keep the door open.
"Sure," Jake said, "ready for my number?"
"Yeah," Carson said as he punched the digits into his phone as Jake recited them.