Copyright 2006 by AMc. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author retains all rights to this work and you may not copy or transmit it in any way except in it's entirety and with this disclaimer.
This Old Bar
Chapter 3
Sam avoided Joe like he was an infectious disease. He wasn't needed at the bar until construction was done. Presently he leaned on a railing at a park overlooking the river, letting his mind wander.
Portland was overcast or rainy most of the year so when the sun came out, so did people. The park was crowded with people walking, biking or skating along the promenade but Sam paid no attention.
Joe's attitude got him into some heavy thinking. Why was Joe so uptight? He had always been open about being gay so he found it difficult to deal with closeted ones. He understood their well founded fear but it didn't make it easier. He saw that fear in Joe's eyes when he confronted him and he was saddened.
Times were changing, he mused. Maybe it was the age difference or their cultural background. Thanks to TV and movies people are moving beyond the stereotype of drag queens, hairdressers and florists but there still were rabid, dangerous homophobic folks out there. It's still a risk to be gay in some places.
He remembered years before, while growing up in Bend, hearing about the Oregon Citizens Alliance thumping for support to pass their anti-gay initiative. Plenty of people thought it was ok but his parents were appalled so he wasn't worried when he told him he was gay. They supported him with their blessing. He smiled when he thought of how loving and tolerant they were. Even his college pals for the most part were accepting of it. The frat guy at the football game certainly didn't mind. His grin broadened at the memory of nights spent in bed with that hunk.
He looked up from the water and sighed. Joe hadn't been so lucky. He wondered what he could do to bring him out of hiding. Was it worth it? He frowned. He had no idea how much baggage the man carried around and at forty, there was probably quite a bit. It would be hard to break old chains. He wanted to be with Joe so much. He felt comfortable around him, like a big brother he never had growing up an only child. He was tender and grateful for Sam's attention. But Sam couldn't pretend and hide from others his feelings for Joe.
Lots of people had to hid because of family, work or social pressure but Sam couldn't see any reason why Joe was compelled to keep his life locked away. He seemed so confident, so relaxed except for this one thing. Sam sighed again. This thinking was getting him nowhere. He dug into his pocket for his cell phone. There was three messages from Joe. He knew he had to talk to him soon or he would scare him off permanently. He suddenly remembered Dave Howell was Joe's oldest friend. He would be a good person to start with if he was going to figure Joe out. He put the phone back in his pocket and headed off.
Twenty minutes later he strode into Dave's office. The tall man was sitting at his desk, feet propped on the edge as he talked loudly on the phone. He waved Sam in as he continued to cajole the caller, smoothing his tie as he finally got what he wanted and hung up. He put his feet down and rocked in his swivel chair, gesturing for Sam to sit down.
Dave was a good looking man who towered over people with his height and presence. He spoke in a loud voice due to poor hearing caused by years working in a noisy foundry. It made him appear overbearing to some but he had an open friendly face and blue eyes full of good humor. They discussed progress on the bar.
"I haven't been there the last two weeks and frankly I won't be needed until the finish work." Sam said casually. Dave ran his hand thru a thick stock of blonde hair to cover the shadow of concern that crossed his face.
"So have you talked to Joe lately?" he asked with the same feigned casualness. Sam shook his head. He wondered how he was going to broach the subject of Joe and this was a good opening.
"No and I don't know where he is either." Sam said point blank. Dave turned his chair away and stared out the window for a moment before answering.
"Joe has climbed into a bottle and disappeared." he said with a bruised voice. Sam was puzzled, didn't Joe say something about being sober? From Dave's tired, repetitive tone, Sam got the impression Joe had done this before.
God, he's an alcoholic prone to binges, just great Sam thought in dismay. He looked everywhere but at Dave and noticed a photo on the far wall near the door. He got up to examine it closer and saw it was the same team photo Joe had. He spotted Dave standing in the back row, the tallest man on the team.
"I didn't know you and Joe played ball together." It sounded more like a question. Dave swiveled in his chair toward Sam.
"Joe and I have known each other since high school. He's one of my oldest and closest friends. I know him better than anyone." he said with pride and, Sam thought, a large dose of significance. He turned and fixed his gaze on Dave as they regarded each other for a moment.
"Sam may I ask you a personal question and you're welcome to tell me it's none of my fucking business." Dave was very serious.
"Sure."
"Are you and Joe. . .involved?" he asked delicately.
"Will the answer get Joe in trouble?" Sam was pretty sure Dave knew Joe was gay but was being cautious.
"Of course not."
"Yes we are, I think." he frowned, he hadn't meant to add that qualifier.
"Did he tell you why he left baseball?" Dave asked and Sam wondered at the change of subject. He shook his head.
"Well I wish you would because it's the reason he's afraid." his voice broke and he cleared his throat to cover the emotional slip.
Afraid? Afraid of what? Sam wondered and wanted to ask what happened but knew he wasn't going to get an answer. Sam was suddenly wary of Dave's motive. Was he genuinely concerned for his old friend or was he worried that Joe's behavior would ruin their business partnership? He was also handing Sam a potential bomb that could blow up in his face, destroying Joe and their relationship in the process.
"What makes you think he will tell me?" Sam asked defensively. Dave stilled his habitual rocking for a second then went on.
"I can tell you're good for him. He told me a few weeks ago he met someone and looked happy for the first time in quite a while. I like it when he's happy, he deserves to be and he's easier to deal with then when he's being a sourpuss pain in the ass." Dave smiled briefly. Joe did have his gruff moments. Sam was flattered that he had that affect on Joe but worried he was not up to the challenge Dave was presenting.
"He needs you, he needs to let go of-" Dave waved at the picture then dropped his hand in a defeated gesture.
"Knock some sense into the son of a bitch, ok?" he pleaded. The phone rang before Sam could reply and Dave snatched it up, abruptly ending their discussion. Sam nodded, he was almost sorry he came. He was expecting a simple explanation instead he got complications.
He went in search of Joe. He called but there was no answer. He stopped by the apartment and spoke to the building manger on his way out, who said Joe left some time ago but didn't know where. The bar next door was locked with no work crew in sight. Frustrated, Sam was about to give up when he remembered The Iron Grill, and decided to check there in one last effort.
He reviewed the strange conversation with Dave. He shook his head, what fragile lives we lead. Such demons we have. What secrets hold us back? He had to help an older, tougher man come to grips with his and he had no idea what it was. Thanks Dave, really, he wasn't getting a christmas card this year, Sam thought peevishly as he parked the car.
As he expected on a sunny day like this, the bar was empty. Two men sat at the end of the bar one loudly pontificating to the other, who looked bored but nodded politely at the man's monologue. A woman sat at a table glancing at her watch expectantly as she snacked on peanuts.
Bernard was doing double duty as bartender and manager. Sam greeted him as he hopped up on a stool. Bernard brought him a glass of water, setting it down with a flourish.
"What's a bright guy like you doing in a dark place like this" the mousy man joked.
"Didn't you know I'm a vampire. Not the pale skin. He held up a forearm. Bernard eyed him suspiciously.
"Joe around?" Sam asked as he surveyed the room.
"Nope haven't since the boss for a few days." he said, irritation and fatigue showing in his voice. Sam noticed how drawn he looked. Bernard always had a hang dog face and bags under his eyes but he was slow and tired in his movements.
"He came in last Friday looking like shit and told me to take care of things, took a bottle of tequila with him, which is not a good sign. Shit, probably another fucking break up." Bernard shook his head in mild disgust.
"What?" Sam didn't understand the last bit.
"The last time he got drunk was when he broke up with Bri-" he cut himself off and looked around to make sure the bar help Chico wasn't in earshot. He looked at Sam and leaned in whispering in a conspiratorial tone.
"You didn't hear this from me, but Joe's gay."
So he wasn't as hidden as he thought. Who else besides him and Dave knew, Sam wondered. He nodded that he would keep it to confidential. Sam wanted to question him further but didn't want to arouse suspicion so he let Bernard talk on his own.
"Wow, must have been a brutal break up." he said off handedly as bait. Sam had played this game before. He had consoled plenty of college chums through break ups with their girlfriends, lending an ear and commiserating over a pitcher of beer. They would bewail their fate and he would agree with their conclusions she was a bitch and they deserved better.
"Hardly, I got the impression he goes through a lot of guys. They're like that, you know." he said with a wink and a nudge. Sam shrugged noncommittally.
"Lucky in business, unlucky in love I guess." Bernard chuckled as he finished off a mug of coffee he had been nursing.
Sam figured he was venting rather than being bigoted. No doubt he was he was pissed about work being dumped on him without notice while Joe wallowed in his problems. Sam had a beer and waited another hour with no sign of Joe.
He had just finished some paperwork when there was a knock at the door. Sam opened it to find Joe looking very pathetic. He looked like he had been beaten in a battle with his conscience. His hair was in disarray and his face was blotted and pale; his eyes vacant and staring. He looked at Joe and his heart ached for the man who was clearly miserable.
"Joe." Sam said quietly and he started at the sound of his voice. Despite his doubts about being able to help Joe he knew he had to try. His gut told him it was worth the effort and in that moment he realized how much he had fallen for the man.
"I, I spoke to Dave and he said I should see you." was all he could manage. Sam gently pulled Joe into the house.
"Sam I'm so sorry I didn't mean to, I really fucked up I should have been more honest with you about being so-" he was babbling and stopped as the words caught in his throat. He practically threw himself into Sam's arms.
"It's ok I understand." he said tenderly, caressing his face with a free hand. He guided him to a couch as Joe trembled with emotion. It felt odd for him to be in this position. Isn't it usually the younger guy getting counsel from the older, wiser guy about coming out?
"How can I make it up to you?" Joe pleaded.
"You need to stop drinking -now." he answered without hesitation. Joe slumped against him in defeat like a child who had been caught doing something he shouldn't have. He nodded, very ashamed of his lapse.
"And you need to be honest with me." Sam added. He almost said "with yourself" but thought better of it at the last second. He needed consoling not berating. Joe nodded again, picking at a bandage across the back of his right hand.
"What happened to your hand?" Sam noticed it for the first time, a spot of dried blood staining it. Joe covered it with his other hand.
"Nothing." he dismissed but Sam gave him a warning look. Joe tensed at the reproach.
"It's a long story." he trailed off and looked away. Sam saw the mental struggle Joe was going through so he moved from the couch to a chair to give him distance. Joe looked hurt by the gesture but said nothing.
"It's a just so hard sometimes- living this life." Joe rasped, his voice broken by anxious breathing and the urge to cry.
"It doesn't have to be this way." Sam said with conviction. Joe began to cry and Sam returned to his side to hold him until he stopped a few minutes later. Sam rose carefully and placed a blanket around Joe's shoulders as he sat like a lost child, staring at the floor. Sam knelt down and removed Joe's shoes, massaging his feet. Sam looked deeply into his eyes, gauging his mood, waiting for a sign from him what to do next. Joe managed a smile, touched by all the ministrations.
"You're really too good for me." Joe was amazed at Sam's quiet resolve. He wouldn't put up with this miserable self-pity. Actually he didn't, that's why he was a mess.
"Nah, I'm just a sucker for older men. " Sam kissed him sweetly.
Joe suddenly felt guilty for involving Sam in his problems. He was such a sweet guy he didn't deserve this and or him. Part of him wanted to leap up and flee but he remained rooted to the spot with Sam holding his foot. That he didn't run away was a sign he was ready to deal with his fear. He wasn't backing away from the cliff edge this time.
" I know we need to talk but can I just be with you for now?" Joe asked plaintively. Sam smiled and nodded, sure.
He would have to wait until Joe was ready to talk. Sam's mother always said he had the patience of a saint and she was right. He was willing to wait for Joe to come out of his fear lined shell. He lead Joe over to the bed where he reduced him to his underwear , then removed his own clothes and joined him under the covers. They watched TV for awhile then halfway through the news Sam noticed Joe was asleep so he snapped off the TV and held him.
Talk to me Joe, Sam thought, as he smoothed with the rapidly thinning spot of hair on the top of Joe's head. Tell me what's holding you down, he mentally called to him, resisting the urge to shake him and force it out. No, he has to come out willingly Sam reasoned, as a tear rolled down his face.