Latakia by J. F. Smith
“Completely,” said Matt.
“If I asked you to help with something you might otherwise be a little uncomfortable with, would you trust me enough to do it?”
Matt wasn’t sure what Travis was asking, but it didn’t matter. “Yeah, the answer’s still yeah.”
“Ok, good.”
Matt waited a moment to see what it was that Travis wanted to ask him to do, but Travis didn’t say anything. He just squinted out at the water.
Just as he was about to ask Travis what he wanted, he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Wasp walking up to them, as huge as always. He was dressed in long white shorts and a faded orange t-shirt that was too big for him. But what Matt noticed was that Wasp looked awful. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and he didn’t look like he had slept, either. The bags under his eyes stood out like dark clouds.
“Hey, Matt,” he said dolefully. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Wasp cut a glance over at Travis as he said that.
Travis said, “Petey hooked up last night, so Matt crashed at my place.”
Matt got the feeling that Wasp’s arrival had been planned.
Wasp said, “You guys go running?”
“Yeah, five miles,” said Travis.
“That’s all?”
Travis nodded his head over at Matt as an explanation.
Matt said, trying to lighten the suddenly gloomy mood, “Ok, you guys are going to give me a complex here.” He really didn’t know Wasp very well, but he was a little worried about him.
Wasp didn’t even smile. He stood looking at them uncertainly for a moment, then said, “Yeah, so, it’s good running across you guys. Mope, I’ll catch up with you. Later. I guess.”
Travis said, “Keith, wait a minute and do me a favor, ok? Keep Matt company for a little bit.” He swung his head around, looking, “I’ve gotta go run take a leak in the hotel there. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Wasp nodded and sat down on the other side of Travis from Matt. He crossed his legs and rested his chin in his hands, looking out at every single other person in the world having a good time and in a good mood.
Travis stood up and grabbed his sweatshirt. He opened up the rucksack and dug around for a moment while he told Matt, “Be right back. You guys talk.”
He pulled something out of the rucksack and put it down between Matt and Wasp and immediately trotted off to find the bathroom.
When Matt saw what he put down, he immediately looked after Travis to see if he was insane.
Wasp looked over. His blue mood was overcome by curiosity all of a sudden and he asked Matt, “Mope brought a gun out here? Why did he leave his handgun sitting out?”
Matt didn’t say anything.
Wasp picked it up and admired the gun for a moment. He popped the clip out before shoving it back in. He squinted and checked the sight on it.
“A Caracal, 9 millimeter. I didn’t know Mope had one of these. Don’t see many of these in the US.”
Matt watched Wasp work the gun. He stared at it in Wasp’s hands. His chest tightened some when he realized that he could still see a little bit of blood still on it along some of the crevices of the gun. In his mind, Matt was assaulted with the burning image of the flash of the gun and a person’s head twisting and tearing apart right in front of him.
Wasp realized Matt hadn’t said anything, so he looked over at him. Matt’s eyes didn’t leave the gun. Wasp asked, “Mope brought a handgun with him on your run?”
Matt understood what Travis wanted, even if he didn’t understand why, even if it didn’t make it easy. But he trusted Travis. Completely.
Wasp noticed the funny look on Matt’s face. He asked, “Matt?”
Matt finally snapped out of it and realized Wasp was talking to him. It was Matt’s turn to pull his knees up to his chest and put his arms around them. He said, “It’s not Mope’s gun. It’s mine. I guess.”
Wasp gave Matt an impressed nod. “Cool. I didn’t know you were into guns.”
Matt’s mouth felt a little dry. He had only talked to Travis about this before. He said, “I’m not. I’m not even comfortable with them. Mope’s keeping this one for me.”
Wasp looked a little lost. He put the handgun back down on the cement between them and stared at Matt curiously.
Talking became harder. Matt could talk to Travis about what happened, about killing that person, but he wasn’t as sure about talking to any of the other guys about it. They wouldn’t understand, especially since it was one of the bad guys. They’d think he was being silly and weak. Matt said, his voice unsteady, “This is the gun I killed one of Al-Hashim’s guys with. Mope brought it back as kind of a souvenir. He thought I’d be proud to have it.” He scratched at his nose a little. He still didn’t feel very proud.
“You know the story of what all happened that night. All you guys seem so proud of the fact that I took one of them out. But… I don’t know. Even though I guess I had no choice, I don’t like what I did. Mope wanted me to have it, but I asked him to keep it for me.”
Matt expected Wasp to laugh at him, to tell him he did good, he should be proud, that he was a man for what he did. All that. All the things he didn’t feel. But instead, Wasp watched him intently, very respectful of what Matt was saying, almost sympathizing with him.
Wasp’s face turned very cloudy again and they sat in silence for a long time.
Wasp eventually said to Matt, “I’ve killed a guy, too, Matt.”
Matt thought about the twenty-seven hash marks on Travis’ rifle. The thought hit him that it might actually be more at this point. They had been on another mission since they left Latakia.
“That’s kind of your job, right?” said Matt. “Part of it, anyway. You guys are trained.”
Wasp frowned and didn’t dare look Matt in the eye.
“No. I killed one of our own.”
Matt didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he should press it or not.
Wasp took a second, but then started to explain.
“We were coming back from a mission and headed to the green zone in Baghdad. We were passing through this neighborhood that had a little bit of a spotty reputation. There was a group of Iraqis crowding around a guy, a local, and suddenly the local pulled out a rifle. I was the first one to see it and thought we were heading into an ambush, so I reacted and shot the guy. Just one bullet. And he was dead.”
Wasp stopped for a second before clearing his throat uncomfortably.
“But he wasn’t a local. It was a Marine. One… one of ours. I killed one of our own guys.”
Matt felt terrible. Wasp… Keith… was so young. To have that happen must be terrible. But he kinda knew the feeling.
“I’m sorry, Keith,” he said.
Wasp said, “It turns out the guy wasn’t supposed to be there. He had left the green zone to go find some prostitute he had heard about. He broke all kinds of regs being out there, and definitely shouldn’t have been dressed like he was. The locals got a little antsy when they noticed him and he pulled the gun. Anyway, that’s what I was told. There was an inquiry, and they said it was his fault and cleared me of any wrongdoing.”
“When I joined the SEALs, I felt like I could do anything. But I let it all go to my head. And now, there’s some poor Marine’s parents in Eugene, Oregon whose son won’t be coming home because of me. I killed a good guy, Matt. I’m the failure on the team. Responsibility is always placed where it belongs, and this was all me. And now I’m becoming a liability. I’m second-guessing every response I have now. I’m dragging the team down. Worse, one of these days I’m going to second-guess at the wrong time, when I should have acted, and get a team member killed. I don’t know which way to go any more. All I can think about is that guy from Eugene.”
“I’d have thrown my helmet in a few months ago already if it weren’t for Mope. He’s the only one that’s kept me going. I don’t know why he does it. I’m just dead weight at this point. But he made me promise to talk to him every time I
felt like I couldn’t keep going.”
Matt felt overwhelmed. At his own guilt that rose up in him as soon as he saw the gun again, and now also for seeing a good man, so young, but so weighted down with the blame he put on himself. Neither of them quite knowing where to turn to unload the guilt pressing on them so heavily. At least Matt knew he wouldn’t likely have to face something like that again. Poor Keith had to face it almost every day.
Matt said, “It’s funny, but I think I kinda know how you feel. The guys all said I killed this person because I had to, and I guess I did, but this isn’t me. I sit in an office every day. I don’t shoot people in the face. It’s been hard on me, too, at times. And for better or worse, there’s this reminder sitting right in front of me of what I did.”
Wasp smiled grimly. “I guess we’re kind of a pair. You regret shooting the bad guy and I regret shooting one of the good ones. At least there’s someone around that I know can relate to it some.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, their regrets sitting in-between them in the form a handgun.
Matt said, “Tell you what, Keith. For what it’s worth, we can help each other, maybe. I’ll forgive you for shooting the good guy if you’ll forgive me for shooting the bad guy. Maybe we can do for each other what we can’t quite seem to do for ourselves.”
Wasp thought about it hard for several moments. “Yeah, maybe that’d be good. Maybe that’ll help. Thanks, Matt. Thanks for forgiving me.”
Matt felt better, too. He wasn’t quite so alone in how he felt about something he had done. And for the first time since he had pulled the trigger and killed another living person with it, Matt picked up the gun between them. Carefully, like it might go off again. It felt so strange and foreign to hold it in his hands. He hadn’t realized that what he needed was forgiveness for what he had done, no matter how right many people thought his actions were. He hadn’t realized what he needed until he found someone that could rightfully understand what he felt.
“Yeah, you too, Keith. Thanks.”
“Thanks,” he repeated.
Wasp reached over with his hand to shake Matt’s, sealing the exchange. Absolution passed through pressed palms.
Wasp suggested they put the gun back in the rucksack before someone walking or jogging by noticed there were two guys sitting out on the boardwalk waving a gun around.
They started making small talk, but Travis showed up just a moment later, soaking wet and his sweatshirt and sneakers in his hand.
Wasp said, “You can’t stay out of the water, can you?”
Travis said cheerfully, “Nope.” He gave Matt a quick, curious look and Matt smiled back at him, letting him know it was ok.
Wasp asked, “How far out?”
“Ahhh, little more than a half mile, I think.”
“You’re getting lazy, Mope. And old.” Wasp had a half a grin on his face. His mood seemed to be improving.
Travis said, “Yeah, yeah, I know. C’mon, I got a hankering for some French toast.”
Wasp lit up a little. “Man, I haven’t had French toast in ages!” He looked at Matt and Travis hopefully.
Matt gave Travis a hidden look of benign frustration. He had really wanted to get back to Travis’ apartment, get in the shower with him, and together use up every drop of hot water he had. It seemed like he’d never be able to get Travis alone again at this rate. But he wasn’t about to not let Wasp come along, either. No way.
Matt could tell Travis felt the same way. Hiding in plain sight was always going to weigh on them. But you had to be prepared for the sacrifices.
Matt said, “Well, it’s my one and only specialty. Let’s go. I guess we’ll stop by the ATM first. I’ll need extra money to buy all the food I’m pretty sure you can put away, Wasp. Am I right?”
Matt entirely missed the tender, admiring look that Travis gave him.
Chapter 33 – Memorial Day
On the Saturday night about a month later, Matt was out at the vodka bar called Kremlin for the start of the Memorial Day weekend. The place was fairly packed for the start of the holiday, and the mixed gay and straight crowd was definitely in the mood for a holiday weekend. The DJ was spinning a down-tempo mix of sophisticated club music to provide a soundtrack to all the people looking to see and be seen. Matt was there with Bret and Jim, but his mind was elsewhere and he didn’t care a whole lot about seeing or being seen.
Travis had been off on one of his missions that he couldn’t talk about for more than a week now. He had told Matt he’d be back on Friday afternoon and would have the long weekend to spend with him in Richmond. And then Friday had come and gone with no word from him.
It wasn’t the first time since they had started dating that this had happened, and he knew it definitely wouldn’t be the last. But it still was hard on Matt. The training missions were no big deal. Matt usually knew where they were, whether it was out in San Diego or in the desert out west, or the other typical places they often trained. But these missions where he knew nothing were harder to deal with; Travis had been very right about that. He never knew when he’d get word back from one of the other guys in the platoon that maybe something had gone very wrong and something terrible had happened. Matt had made the guys solemnly swear that if anything happened to any of “his” platoon that they would let him know as soon as possible. He meant it, too. It wasn’t just Travis that he worried about. But it was far and away Travis that he worried the most about.
So on Saturday night, since he still hadn’t heard from Travis, Matt agreed to go out with Bret and Jim to pass the time until he hopefully heard something. Bret and Jim could tell Matt was distracted and worried; it wasn’t the first time they had seen him like this since he had started seeing Travis.
Jim swirled his vodka martini around a few times and said, “Matt, look, Bret and I both like Travis a lot. God knows he treats you incredibly well when he’s around. But what’s the deal with these periods when he just disappears? It seems odd, and it’s clearly not easy for you.”
“We’ve talked about this. You know there are some assignments he can’t talk about,” said Matt.
“Yeah, but it seems like there’s a lot of them. He’s gone a lot. You have no idea what he’s doing. Or… you know, who he’s doing it with. How do you know he’s even actually on some kind of assignment? How do you trust him? Are you sure you can?”
That was the last thing in the world to cause Matt concern. “I trust him more than you can possibly imagine.” His friends were getting close to stepping over a line in how they talked about Travis, and Matt’s response had something of a steel edge to it to warn them.
Before this conversation could go any further, and to put Matt in an even worse mood, the bad penny turned up.
Brian came up to the three of them, along with a young new boyfriend on his arm. Matt had not seen Brian or talked to him since the night that Petey had scared him off. None of them had. Nonetheless, it was a disappointment to see him now. He did feel sorry for the young guy taken in by Brian, though. Brian had apparently shifted his target demographic younger to find someone a little more easily misled; the fellow looked barely old enough to get in the bar. Matt hoped the young guy would learn his lesson about Brian a lot more quickly than he had.
Brian had this arrogant look of superiority on his face. He leaned over and conspicuously kissed his trophy boyfriend on the cheek in front of the three of them. He said to Matt, all happiness and bitter light, “Hi Matt! So I hear you’ve got a new boyfriend, but I don’t see him around. Seems like no one I’ve talked to has actually seen him. You sure you’re not making this guy up? I would have thought that six weeks after I dumped you, you would have found somebody by now.”
“No, Brian. I’m not making him up. And thanks, Bret, I can handle this.” Bret had opened his mouth to give Brian a piece of his mind before Matt stomped it shut for him.
“So, if he’s real,” said Brian, “then what I told you would happen is true. You’ve got some loser tha
t’s just using you. You had your chance to come back to me and have a real man. And you blew it.”
Bret and Jim both now looked like they were on the verge of beating the shit out of Brian.
Matt knew that Brian was trying to hurt him, but it almost made him laugh at how pathetic the attempt was. The idea of Brian being a real man was laughable. Matt replied, “When you say the words ‘real man’, do they sound like meaningless foreign words to you?” It was strange how transparent Brian was, but only now, on the other side of the breakup, did Matt see it this way. He felt ashamed for how easy he had made it for Brian to be this way for an entire year.
Brian looked at Matt stupidly for a second before his eyes darted to a spot just over Matt’s shoulders.
The entire universe melted into a puddle around Matt’s feet as he felt two strong arms wrap around him from behind and a face bury itself in the side of Matt’s neck, kissing him. He knew the scent of the man behind him instantly – the smell of salt air and cedarwood. Just that scent alone made Matt feel at home and at peace.
Matt said, “Brian, you have no idea what it means to be a real man. No idea at all.”
Travis spun Matt around and they kissed, Travis lifting Matt off the ground a few inches in the process. Matt said, “You fucker! You had me worried again!”
Travis smiled sheepishly. He said, “I know. I just wanted to surprise you a little this time. So, this is Brian?” He looked over Matt’s head at Brian curiously.
Brian stood irritated as he watched this display. Matt’s new boyfriend actually showing up didn’t line up with his plans very well, especially when the boyfriend was as imposing as Travis. He recovered quickly, though, and said with a sneer, “I can’t believe you put up with this shit from Dumbo here, but I wasn’t good enough for you!”
Matt could and had put up with a lot from Brian, but this time he was tipped over the edge. No, he was shoved violently across it and someone was going to pay. He pushed back from Travis, spun around, and punched Brian awkwardly in the nose, causing a loud crack. Pain ripped through his fist from the impact and Matt cursed and shook his hand. Bret and Jim cringed and put their hands to their own noses just from the sound. Brian fell back a step from the impact, and his nose started bleeding a little, dropping dark crimson spots onto his crisp, white shirt and the hardwood floor below. He touched it gently, realizing in horror he was actually bleeding. Travis’ eyes got real big and he couldn’t help but grin, his mouth gaping open. Everyone in the bar had started watching what was playing out, shocked that a bar brawl seemed to be about to break out somewhere as tony and hip as Kremlin.
“If I asked you to help with something you might otherwise be a little uncomfortable with, would you trust me enough to do it?”
Matt wasn’t sure what Travis was asking, but it didn’t matter. “Yeah, the answer’s still yeah.”
“Ok, good.”
Matt waited a moment to see what it was that Travis wanted to ask him to do, but Travis didn’t say anything. He just squinted out at the water.
Just as he was about to ask Travis what he wanted, he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Wasp walking up to them, as huge as always. He was dressed in long white shorts and a faded orange t-shirt that was too big for him. But what Matt noticed was that Wasp looked awful. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and he didn’t look like he had slept, either. The bags under his eyes stood out like dark clouds.
“Hey, Matt,” he said dolefully. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Wasp cut a glance over at Travis as he said that.
Travis said, “Petey hooked up last night, so Matt crashed at my place.”
Matt got the feeling that Wasp’s arrival had been planned.
Wasp said, “You guys go running?”
“Yeah, five miles,” said Travis.
“That’s all?”
Travis nodded his head over at Matt as an explanation.
Matt said, trying to lighten the suddenly gloomy mood, “Ok, you guys are going to give me a complex here.” He really didn’t know Wasp very well, but he was a little worried about him.
Wasp didn’t even smile. He stood looking at them uncertainly for a moment, then said, “Yeah, so, it’s good running across you guys. Mope, I’ll catch up with you. Later. I guess.”
Travis said, “Keith, wait a minute and do me a favor, ok? Keep Matt company for a little bit.” He swung his head around, looking, “I’ve gotta go run take a leak in the hotel there. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Wasp nodded and sat down on the other side of Travis from Matt. He crossed his legs and rested his chin in his hands, looking out at every single other person in the world having a good time and in a good mood.
Travis stood up and grabbed his sweatshirt. He opened up the rucksack and dug around for a moment while he told Matt, “Be right back. You guys talk.”
He pulled something out of the rucksack and put it down between Matt and Wasp and immediately trotted off to find the bathroom.
When Matt saw what he put down, he immediately looked after Travis to see if he was insane.
Wasp looked over. His blue mood was overcome by curiosity all of a sudden and he asked Matt, “Mope brought a gun out here? Why did he leave his handgun sitting out?”
Matt didn’t say anything.
Wasp picked it up and admired the gun for a moment. He popped the clip out before shoving it back in. He squinted and checked the sight on it.
“A Caracal, 9 millimeter. I didn’t know Mope had one of these. Don’t see many of these in the US.”
Matt watched Wasp work the gun. He stared at it in Wasp’s hands. His chest tightened some when he realized that he could still see a little bit of blood still on it along some of the crevices of the gun. In his mind, Matt was assaulted with the burning image of the flash of the gun and a person’s head twisting and tearing apart right in front of him.
Wasp realized Matt hadn’t said anything, so he looked over at him. Matt’s eyes didn’t leave the gun. Wasp asked, “Mope brought a handgun with him on your run?”
Matt understood what Travis wanted, even if he didn’t understand why, even if it didn’t make it easy. But he trusted Travis. Completely.
Wasp noticed the funny look on Matt’s face. He asked, “Matt?”
Matt finally snapped out of it and realized Wasp was talking to him. It was Matt’s turn to pull his knees up to his chest and put his arms around them. He said, “It’s not Mope’s gun. It’s mine. I guess.”
Wasp gave Matt an impressed nod. “Cool. I didn’t know you were into guns.”
Matt’s mouth felt a little dry. He had only talked to Travis about this before. He said, “I’m not. I’m not even comfortable with them. Mope’s keeping this one for me.”
Wasp looked a little lost. He put the handgun back down on the cement between them and stared at Matt curiously.
Talking became harder. Matt could talk to Travis about what happened, about killing that person, but he wasn’t as sure about talking to any of the other guys about it. They wouldn’t understand, especially since it was one of the bad guys. They’d think he was being silly and weak. Matt said, his voice unsteady, “This is the gun I killed one of Al-Hashim’s guys with. Mope brought it back as kind of a souvenir. He thought I’d be proud to have it.” He scratched at his nose a little. He still didn’t feel very proud.
“You know the story of what all happened that night. All you guys seem so proud of the fact that I took one of them out. But… I don’t know. Even though I guess I had no choice, I don’t like what I did. Mope wanted me to have it, but I asked him to keep it for me.”
Matt expected Wasp to laugh at him, to tell him he did good, he should be proud, that he was a man for what he did. All that. All the things he didn’t feel. But instead, Wasp watched him intently, very respectful of what Matt was saying, almost sympathizing with him.
Wasp’s face turned very cloudy again and they sat in silence for a long time.
Wasp eventually said to Matt, “I’ve killed a guy, too, Matt.”
Matt thought about the twenty-seven hash marks on Travis’ rifle. The thought hit him that it might actually be more at this point. They had been on another mission since they left Latakia.
“That’s kind of your job, right?” said Matt. “Part of it, anyway. You guys are trained.”
Wasp frowned and didn’t dare look Matt in the eye.
“No. I killed one of our own.”
Matt didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he should press it or not.
Wasp took a second, but then started to explain.
“We were coming back from a mission and headed to the green zone in Baghdad. We were passing through this neighborhood that had a little bit of a spotty reputation. There was a group of Iraqis crowding around a guy, a local, and suddenly the local pulled out a rifle. I was the first one to see it and thought we were heading into an ambush, so I reacted and shot the guy. Just one bullet. And he was dead.”
Wasp stopped for a second before clearing his throat uncomfortably.
“But he wasn’t a local. It was a Marine. One… one of ours. I killed one of our own guys.”
Matt felt terrible. Wasp… Keith… was so young. To have that happen must be terrible. But he kinda knew the feeling.
“I’m sorry, Keith,” he said.
Wasp said, “It turns out the guy wasn’t supposed to be there. He had left the green zone to go find some prostitute he had heard about. He broke all kinds of regs being out there, and definitely shouldn’t have been dressed like he was. The locals got a little antsy when they noticed him and he pulled the gun. Anyway, that’s what I was told. There was an inquiry, and they said it was his fault and cleared me of any wrongdoing.”
“When I joined the SEALs, I felt like I could do anything. But I let it all go to my head. And now, there’s some poor Marine’s parents in Eugene, Oregon whose son won’t be coming home because of me. I killed a good guy, Matt. I’m the failure on the team. Responsibility is always placed where it belongs, and this was all me. And now I’m becoming a liability. I’m second-guessing every response I have now. I’m dragging the team down. Worse, one of these days I’m going to second-guess at the wrong time, when I should have acted, and get a team member killed. I don’t know which way to go any more. All I can think about is that guy from Eugene.”
“I’d have thrown my helmet in a few months ago already if it weren’t for Mope. He’s the only one that’s kept me going. I don’t know why he does it. I’m just dead weight at this point. But he made me promise to talk to him every time I
Matt felt overwhelmed. At his own guilt that rose up in him as soon as he saw the gun again, and now also for seeing a good man, so young, but so weighted down with the blame he put on himself. Neither of them quite knowing where to turn to unload the guilt pressing on them so heavily. At least Matt knew he wouldn’t likely have to face something like that again. Poor Keith had to face it almost every day.
Matt said, “It’s funny, but I think I kinda know how you feel. The guys all said I killed this person because I had to, and I guess I did, but this isn’t me. I sit in an office every day. I don’t shoot people in the face. It’s been hard on me, too, at times. And for better or worse, there’s this reminder sitting right in front of me of what I did.”
Wasp smiled grimly. “I guess we’re kind of a pair. You regret shooting the bad guy and I regret shooting one of the good ones. At least there’s someone around that I know can relate to it some.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, their regrets sitting in-between them in the form a handgun.
Matt said, “Tell you what, Keith. For what it’s worth, we can help each other, maybe. I’ll forgive you for shooting the good guy if you’ll forgive me for shooting the bad guy. Maybe we can do for each other what we can’t quite seem to do for ourselves.”
Wasp thought about it hard for several moments. “Yeah, maybe that’d be good. Maybe that’ll help. Thanks, Matt. Thanks for forgiving me.”
Matt felt better, too. He wasn’t quite so alone in how he felt about something he had done. And for the first time since he had pulled the trigger and killed another living person with it, Matt picked up the gun between them. Carefully, like it might go off again. It felt so strange and foreign to hold it in his hands. He hadn’t realized that what he needed was forgiveness for what he had done, no matter how right many people thought his actions were. He hadn’t realized what he needed until he found someone that could rightfully understand what he felt.
“Yeah, you too, Keith. Thanks.”
“Thanks,” he repeated.
Wasp reached over with his hand to shake Matt’s, sealing the exchange. Absolution passed through pressed palms.
Wasp suggested they put the gun back in the rucksack before someone walking or jogging by noticed there were two guys sitting out on the boardwalk waving a gun around.
They started making small talk, but Travis showed up just a moment later, soaking wet and his sweatshirt and sneakers in his hand.
Wasp said, “You can’t stay out of the water, can you?”
Travis said cheerfully, “Nope.” He gave Matt a quick, curious look and Matt smiled back at him, letting him know it was ok.
Wasp asked, “How far out?”
“Ahhh, little more than a half mile, I think.”
“You’re getting lazy, Mope. And old.” Wasp had a half a grin on his face. His mood seemed to be improving.
Travis said, “Yeah, yeah, I know. C’mon, I got a hankering for some French toast.”
Wasp lit up a little. “Man, I haven’t had French toast in ages!” He looked at Matt and Travis hopefully.
Matt gave Travis a hidden look of benign frustration. He had really wanted to get back to Travis’ apartment, get in the shower with him, and together use up every drop of hot water he had. It seemed like he’d never be able to get Travis alone again at this rate. But he wasn’t about to not let Wasp come along, either. No way.
Matt could tell Travis felt the same way. Hiding in plain sight was always going to weigh on them. But you had to be prepared for the sacrifices.
Matt said, “Well, it’s my one and only specialty. Let’s go. I guess we’ll stop by the ATM first. I’ll need extra money to buy all the food I’m pretty sure you can put away, Wasp. Am I right?”
Matt entirely missed the tender, admiring look that Travis gave him.
Chapter 33 – Memorial Day
On the Saturday night about a month later, Matt was out at the vodka bar called Kremlin for the start of the Memorial Day weekend. The place was fairly packed for the start of the holiday, and the mixed gay and straight crowd was definitely in the mood for a holiday weekend. The DJ was spinning a down-tempo mix of sophisticated club music to provide a soundtrack to all the people looking to see and be seen. Matt was there with Bret and Jim, but his mind was elsewhere and he didn’t care a whole lot about seeing or being seen.
Travis had been off on one of his missions that he couldn’t talk about for more than a week now. He had told Matt he’d be back on Friday afternoon and would have the long weekend to spend with him in Richmond. And then Friday had come and gone with no word from him.
It wasn’t the first time since they had started dating that this had happened, and he knew it definitely wouldn’t be the last. But it still was hard on Matt. The training missions were no big deal. Matt usually knew where they were, whether it was out in San Diego or in the desert out west, or the other typical places they often trained. But these missions where he knew nothing were harder to deal with; Travis had been very right about that. He never knew when he’d get word back from one of the other guys in the platoon that maybe something had gone very wrong and something terrible had happened. Matt had made the guys solemnly swear that if anything happened to any of “his” platoon that they would let him know as soon as possible. He meant it, too. It wasn’t just Travis that he worried about. But it was far and away Travis that he worried the most about.
So on Saturday night, since he still hadn’t heard from Travis, Matt agreed to go out with Bret and Jim to pass the time until he hopefully heard something. Bret and Jim could tell Matt was distracted and worried; it wasn’t the first time they had seen him like this since he had started seeing Travis.
Jim swirled his vodka martini around a few times and said, “Matt, look, Bret and I both like Travis a lot. God knows he treats you incredibly well when he’s around. But what’s the deal with these periods when he just disappears? It seems odd, and it’s clearly not easy for you.”
“We’ve talked about this. You know there are some assignments he can’t talk about,” said Matt.
“Yeah, but it seems like there’s a lot of them. He’s gone a lot. You have no idea what he’s doing. Or… you know, who he’s doing it with. How do you know he’s even actually on some kind of assignment? How do you trust him? Are you sure you can?”
That was the last thing in the world to cause Matt concern. “I trust him more than you can possibly imagine.” His friends were getting close to stepping over a line in how they talked about Travis, and Matt’s response had something of a steel edge to it to warn them.
Before this conversation could go any further, and to put Matt in an even worse mood, the bad penny turned up.
Brian came up to the three of them, along with a young new boyfriend on his arm. Matt had not seen Brian or talked to him since the night that Petey had scared him off. None of them had. Nonetheless, it was a disappointment to see him now. He did feel sorry for the young guy taken in by Brian, though. Brian had apparently shifted his target demographic younger to find someone a little more easily misled; the fellow looked barely old enough to get in the bar. Matt hoped the young guy would learn his lesson about Brian a lot more quickly than he had.
Brian had this arrogant look of superiority on his face. He leaned over and conspicuously kissed his trophy boyfriend on the cheek in front of the three of them. He said to Matt, all happiness and bitter light, “Hi Matt! So I hear you’ve got a new boyfriend, but I don’t see him around. Seems like no one I’ve talked to has actually seen him. You sure you’re not making this guy up? I would have thought that six weeks after I dumped you, you would have found somebody by now.”
“No, Brian. I’m not making him up. And thanks, Bret, I can handle this.” Bret had opened his mouth to give Brian a piece of his mind before Matt stomped it shut for him.
“So, if he’s real,” said Brian, “then what I told you would happen is true. You’ve got some loser tha
Bret and Jim both now looked like they were on the verge of beating the shit out of Brian.
Matt knew that Brian was trying to hurt him, but it almost made him laugh at how pathetic the attempt was. The idea of Brian being a real man was laughable. Matt replied, “When you say the words ‘real man’, do they sound like meaningless foreign words to you?” It was strange how transparent Brian was, but only now, on the other side of the breakup, did Matt see it this way. He felt ashamed for how easy he had made it for Brian to be this way for an entire year.
Brian looked at Matt stupidly for a second before his eyes darted to a spot just over Matt’s shoulders.
The entire universe melted into a puddle around Matt’s feet as he felt two strong arms wrap around him from behind and a face bury itself in the side of Matt’s neck, kissing him. He knew the scent of the man behind him instantly – the smell of salt air and cedarwood. Just that scent alone made Matt feel at home and at peace.
Matt said, “Brian, you have no idea what it means to be a real man. No idea at all.”
Travis spun Matt around and they kissed, Travis lifting Matt off the ground a few inches in the process. Matt said, “You fucker! You had me worried again!”
Travis smiled sheepishly. He said, “I know. I just wanted to surprise you a little this time. So, this is Brian?” He looked over Matt’s head at Brian curiously.
Brian stood irritated as he watched this display. Matt’s new boyfriend actually showing up didn’t line up with his plans very well, especially when the boyfriend was as imposing as Travis. He recovered quickly, though, and said with a sneer, “I can’t believe you put up with this shit from Dumbo here, but I wasn’t good enough for you!”
Matt could and had put up with a lot from Brian, but this time he was tipped over the edge. No, he was shoved violently across it and someone was going to pay. He pushed back from Travis, spun around, and punched Brian awkwardly in the nose, causing a loud crack. Pain ripped through his fist from the impact and Matt cursed and shook his hand. Bret and Jim cringed and put their hands to their own noses just from the sound. Brian fell back a step from the impact, and his nose started bleeding a little, dropping dark crimson spots onto his crisp, white shirt and the hardwood floor below. He touched it gently, realizing in horror he was actually bleeding. Travis’ eyes got real big and he couldn’t help but grin, his mouth gaping open. Everyone in the bar had started watching what was playing out, shocked that a bar brawl seemed to be about to break out somewhere as tony and hip as Kremlin.