Anything Could Happen (8 page)

“Interesting,” said Uncle Bodie.

“What is?” asked Austin.

“Never mind,” his uncle said. “Nothing at all.”

T
HAT
night, after a delicious spaghetti dinner, Uncle Bodie declared it was indeed time to give his little girl a bath. Austin was surprised when Lucille sat in a sink full of bubbles, seemingly as happy as could be. This was, of course, after they’d done the dishes, Austin washing and Uncle Bodie drying and putting them away.

“Who’s my baby girl?” asked Uncle Bodie as his fingers scrubbed up suds in her red fur. “Who’s my precious sweet baby girl?”

With a bark, Lucille let him know
she
was his baby girl and no other. Uncle Bodie laughed in delight.

“You know, I never really liked Pomeranians,” Austin said. “Yappy little dogs. But Lucille? She’s a delight.”

Lucille woofed in agreement.

“Poms don’t have to be yappy,” Uncle Bodie remarked. “People—lazy and irresponsible people—
let
them be yappy. But with a little bit of training, all that noisy behavior can be curtailed. I let Lucille have her say, and then I tell her when it’s time to stop. Right, baby girl?”

Lucille barked her concurrence. The adoration in her eyes as she gazed at Uncle Bodie was sweet. She was a very special dog, and Austin told his uncle so.

Uncle Bodie began to rinse her off with the sink sprayer. “Yes. Yes, she is. She is the light of my life. She gives me reason to get up each day, to keep going. After all, what would she do without me?”

And what would
you
do without her?
Austin wondered. Such thoughts made Austin remember something he’d been wanting to ask his uncle. “Whatever happened to Jimmy, Uncle Bodie?”

“Ah….” Uncle Bodie looked out the small window over the sink, into the night, seemingly lost in thought or maybe just deciding what to say. Then: “He got married. That’s what a man did in those days. Married and maybe had a ‘special’ friend on the side. And Jimmy was a Halliburton, after all….”

“Halliburton?” asked Austin. “The
oil
Halliburtons?”

“No,” said Uncle Bodie. “The cardboard Halliburtons. They were the richest people in town, once upon a time. They owned Halliburton Box and Cardboard before it went out of business. Almost took the town with it—would have if Wallymart hadn’t moved in….”

An image of an old factory on the limits of town came to Austin’s mind. All the kids had said it was haunted. But that was before it was torn down to make way for the very “Wallymart” his uncle was talking about.

“
Anyway,
Jimmy wanted me to be his ‘special’ friend. I thought about it too. There was a young woman dying to marry me. It would have been easy. Getting married and having Jimmy on the side. But when I stood in that sanctuary—Jimmy’s best man—and watched them promise each other eternal love? Watched them kiss? Not to mention when the minister said, ‘If anyone can show cause as to why these two should not be joined, let them speak up now, or forever hold their peace’? Oh, sweet Jesus. My heart was tearing itself out of my chest.”

He stopped. Turned off the water. Paused for what seemed forever. Then he began to soap Lucille up again. “I knew I couldn’t live a lie. I knew I couldn’t be his ‘special’ friend. I was his best man in every sense of the word, and I wouldn’t be anything less. So that night I went home and packed a bag and took the train to Kansas City. Did it on the Halliburton dime as well. I jumped on one of their boxcars—that was back when it wasn’t so dangerous—and I never looked back.”

Uncle Bodie’s words faded away, and the two of them stood there in the silence. Austin wanted to say something. Anything. But what was there to say? There really was nothing to say. Anything would just sound like a platitude. He didn’t even want to say “I’m sorry.” It would be too much like when people found out his parents were dead. The “I’m sorrys” became meaningless. The “I know what you’re going throughs” like dandelion seeds in the wind—puffs floating in the air.

Lucille began to shiver, then whimpered.

“Whew,” Uncle Bodie cried suddenly, and Lucille echoed it, stood up in the sink, sat, stood up again, and shook to rid herself of soap and water. Uncle Bodie laughed and grabbed the sprayer again. “Listen to me!” He began to rinse off what Lucille hadn’t already doused them with.

“Are you okay?” Austin asked, immediately regretting it. Did it sound as stupid to his uncle as it did to him?

“Of course I’m all right. Shit.”

It was the first vulgar word Austin could remember his uncle saying.

“Do you know how long ago all that was? Sixty years.
Sixty years
. My, oh my, I can’t believe I’ve ever even lived that long, plus the twenty more.”

The phone rang.

“Will you hand me that towel there and then get that phone?” Uncle Bodie asked, turning off the water.

“Sure.” Austin gave his uncle the threadbare and almost translucent old towel and then ran for the other room to answer the phone. “Hello.”

“Greetings and salutations” came a cheery answer. “And thou must be Master Austin, Boden’s nephew.”

“I… I guess I am,” he said, confused.

“This is Peter Wagner. Your uncle called earlier and left a message….”

“Oh! Oh my God.”
Holy shit.
It was Peter Wagner. “Yes,” he cried. “Let me get him.” He dashed back to the kitchen as if it were an emergency. He had no idea why the voice on the other end of the line had thrown him for a loop.

Rich. He’s rich and he’s a patron of the Pegasus and he’s Uncle Bodie’s friend and….

“Uncle Bodie.” He was breathless, even though he’d run no more than ten or fifteen feet. “It’s Peter Wagner,” he said, the last in a whisper.

“Oh, excellent,” his uncle said. “Do you mind finishing drying Lucille?”

Austin nodded and took over with the towel as his uncle left the room. Lucille seemed to be filled with an abrupt excitement and could hardly sit still while he dried her off. She only seemed to grow more animated, and finally, in exasperation, Austin lifted her out of the sink and set her on the floor, worried she would jump down and hurt herself if he didn’t. Like a streak, she was in the other room, barking all the way.

“Lucille! Control!” came Uncle Bodie’s voice from the other room. “Yes. Yes, it’s your Uncle Peter. Now stop.” There was one more little yap and then silence. Maybe Pomeranians really could be trained not to be yappy dogs, Austin thought. For some reason, he found himself holding back, staying in the kitchen. Maybe the conversation was private. Why else had his uncle left the room?

A few more minutes later, Uncle Bodie was back. “Bad news. Peter won’t be joining us tomorrow. He has to leave town for a few days. Bali, I believe he said….”

Bali?
“Bali?” Austin said. “He’s going out of town for a few days to
Bali
? Who goes out of town for a few days to
Bali
?”

Uncle Bodie shrugged. “Peter does,” he replied matter-of-factly.

Austin shook his head. When was he going to realize he wasn’t in Buckman anymore?

“If you like,” his uncle continued, “I could stay at home tomorrow. Let you two boys have some time to yourself.” He waggled his eyebrows, which seemed to be one of his uncle’s things.

“No,” said Austin. “It’s not a date.”

Uncle Bodie shrugged. “I have seen some sparks, my boy. Far be it for me to stand in the way of—”

“Uncle Bodie. I’m looking for
Todd
. That’s why we’re going to the restaurant, remember?”

His uncle shrugged again. “Yes, I remember. I’m not senile. I just thought—”

“Stop thinking it,” Austin scolded. “This is about Todd.”

Uncle Bodie nodded. “All right.” He sighed. Paused. Nodded once more and then turned to the cabinet. “Sherry?”

“I-I…. Sure. That would be fine.” Why was his uncle making these remarks about sparks with Guy? It wasn’t the first time. Wasn’t his uncle the one who had reminded Guy that Todd was who Austin was looking for?

And yet, as he sat and drank sherry with his uncle, he couldn’t help but wonder about his uncle’s words. Could he really deny his attraction to Guy? No. Of course not. The man was…. Well, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he liked Guy. And how gorgeous he was. Rugged. Not all smooth and varnished, as he’d imagined big-city gays would look—like Bryan Collins on
The New Normal
. Guy wasn’t all that different from Todd. But that didn’t mean anything. He
was
looking for Todd, after all, and…. Damn. It was confusing. He loved Todd in any case.

Didn’t he?

I
ZAR
’
S
Jatetxea was a lovely restaurant. Open, with one wall of red brick and two others white and bright, inviting the sunlight that poured through a fourth wall of large windows. Along with what Austin assumed was a Basque flag, there were dozens of photographs on those walls; countrysides¸ buildings, even portraits—perhaps relatives of the owner? Or maybe just Basque people? The ceiling was crossed with thick beams of rough wood that matched the color of the polished floors. White tablecloths made the room even brighter, adding to the feeling of welcome. All of which was nice, but what Austin was not able to see was Todd.

Austin, Guy, and Uncle Bodie were seated quickly and given a wonderful table that looked out onto Kansas City’s famous Country Club Plaza and a statue of a boar, his nose polished to a high shine. Guy had explained that people rubbed it for good luck, and it was one of three early reproductions of the famous Wild Boar of Florence.

They were barely seated when a handsome young man with dark skin brought them menus and asked for their drink orders.
Maybe he was Basque?
wondered Austin, although the people in the pictures weren’t particularly dark. Water was provided by a busboy. Neither the waiter nor busboy were Todd, and Austin was finding it all but impossible to contain both his anxiety and excitement.

He’s got to be here. He’s got to be here!

“Why don’t we pick something to eat?” Uncle Bodie said.

To Austin’s relief, the menu looked vaguely familiar. Not only were the entrees fairly standard, with only unusual names to make them look exotic, but they were the kind of dishes Todd had made him and his grandparents back in Buckman.
Bildotz txuletillak plantxan
translated to grilled lamb loin chops,
txerri txuletak piperrakin
to pork chops with pimientos (and didn’t that sound exactly like something Todd would make?),
oilaskoa berakatzarekin laban
was roasted garlic chicken, and
mingaina
was tongue.

“I’ve never been fond of tongue,” Uncle Bodie said while they discussed the offerings. “But I had a bite of Peter’s once—”

Austin and Guy snickered.

Uncle Bodie rolled his eyes in that way of his. “His
food
, boys. The
mingaina
. And the pepper tomato sauce was amazing. I might consider it today for once. But oh, I love the
albondigak
….”

Austin was having a hard time choosing, though. Not only was he distracted by his apprehension about finding Todd, but the prices were alarming. He hadn’t expected them to be so high. One didn’t spend between fifteen and twenty-five dollars for food in Buckman—especially on lunch.

As if realizing what was wrong, Guy leaned over and quietly told Austin today’s lunch was his treat.

“Nonsense,” said Uncle Bodie. “Peter is buying. His apology for not being here himself.”

“How is Peter paying?” Austin asked.

“I have one of his credit cards,” Bodie said calmly, as if that were the most normal thing in the world.

Their ice teas arrived, and while there had been milk on the menu, Uncle Bodie had decided against it. “It might not go with what we eat,” he said. “Tea goes with almost everything.”

Uncle Bodie insisted they have appetizers and ordered something called
txorizo pikante
, which turned out to be grilled sausages on a bed of pimientos. They shared, wanting to make room for lunch. It turned out to be delicious, made of pork and beef, garlicky, peppery, yet not the least bit hot.

“When do we ask someone about Todd?” Austin asked. The longer he waited, the more nervous he was getting. Too nervous to really enjoy his food, for even that reminded him of Todd.

“You have those pictures ready?” Guy asked.

“Sure.” Austin yanked out his cell phone and in less than a minute was showing his uncle and Guy his collection.

“You sure have a lot of them,” Guy said.

“I do?” Austin asked, embarrassed. Were there that many?

The first showed Todd in his jacket—autumn jacket, really, but the only one he had. Austin had tried to give his friend a heavier one once, but he’d refused. And Austin knew it was because of his frigging stepdad. Something about not accepting charity. In the picture, he was looking away—he hated it when Austin tried to take pictures. “I love how his dark-brown shirt brings out his eyes.” Austin sighed. “And his scruff. He would have a short beard in less than a week when he got lazy and didn’t shave.” Austin loved that. What would it be like to be kissed by someone with a beard? Even just a little fuzz, like in the picture….

Uncle Bodie cleared his throat.

Austin looked up, startled, felt himself blush all the more. He clicked to the next picture, this one of Todd cooking. He was frying something—Austin couldn’t remember what. He clicked again, and this time Todd had his arm around Joan.

“Who’s that with him?” asked Guy. The look Austin gave him made his eyes widen slightly and then ask Austin to show him the next picture.

It was of Todd lifting a dumbbell, his bicep popping nicely. Austin felt a stirring in his jeans at the sight. God, he’d loved working out with Todd. It had led to him finally seducing his friend. Maybe the biggest mistake of his life.

Uncle Bodie cleared his throat again, and Austin looked up, feeling guilty. He swallowed hard, went to the next picture, and instantly felt his face blaze. It was of Todd, asleep, one arm over his head, chest bare and blanket barely covering his genitals. He’d masturbated to the picture ten dozen times, and he was sure his red face broadcast it to the table. He’d been so tempted to pull the sheet down, take a picture quickly, and then pull it back up. But what would Todd have done if he’d caught him? It was bad enough he’d taken the picture he had.