Stories : The Northernmost Nag – Chapter 5

Chapter 5 –  Catching My Fall

Hang gliding was a hoot. Marcus did not have any fearful hesitations partly due to the huge amount of pot we all smoked and the shots of tequila we consumed after breakfast. Our scheduled time to glide was ten in the morning. Thank God nobody lost their eggs and bacon while harnessed to the manmade wings. These gliders were made from parachute style fabric and reminded me of a huge kite. They carried us high enough in the sky to have both ocean and sound views. When it was time for our last flight, I gave up my turn so Hendrix and Samson could kiss the sky with reckless abandonment.

Left alone with Konni was strangely uncomfortable this morning. I sensed some negativity aimed at me. I felt we were trying to keep our footing on sinking sand like the time we had played tennis on clay courts. Timing is everything when hitting on clay. Sliding can be a constant handicap if you don’t prepare for it. When it came to Jimmy, I was not that good at preparing for his mood swings. Chancing it I tried to use humor to get Konni to brighten up a bit. With my acting skills in tow, I faked a tumble down the dune and did my best I Love Lucy slap stick routine back up beside him. He didn’t even offer me a hand. Nor did I get a chuckle out of him either. The only option left was to ask him a loaded question, “Marcus and me want to challenge you and Jordie to a doubles match. Are you guy’s game?”

“You gotta be out of your fucking mind. The only thing that Jordie can do well is sit on my fat dick and ride.”

“I thought you were enjoying that blonde’s attention. So, I guess the tennis lesson was useless?”

“No doubt, after chasing balls for a few minutes we went back inside and I forced him to tea bag mine until I shot another load down his throat. We smoked and I wanted to take a disco nap, but he would not shut up. Jordie talked incessantly like a teenaged girl who had just smoked her first joint. Finally, I pushed his head under the sheets and let him suck my dick until his gagging sounds put me to sleep.”

I guessed Konni was feeling the confinement being on vacation at the outer banks offered. If you got bored with one fuck, you could not walk across campus and find another to entertain your short-lived attention span. While his college days were spent down south, he had never lost that New York state of mind. Instead he had tried to speed things up to fit his never ending hedonistic personality. No matter how hard he tried some places south of the Mason-Dixon line could not move as fast as a whore on forty-second street. He was a fish out of water and I would not help him swim against the current.

Konni kicked sand on my flip flop forcing me back into his frustrated world. “Don’t try creepin’ back into my bed when that Jamaican gets tired of your ass.”

“That Jamaican has a name. Marcus Van Clarke, but I call him Hendrix, ‘cause he can stroke me like Jimi made love to his guitar.

“They say Jimi was a drugged out womanizer who loved him some white women. I guess your new friend is color struck too.”

“At least he’s not a whore like you. Hanging is hat on every dorm room doorknob all over his campus.”

“How you know that? You just met him two days ago. You ready to write his biography?”

Not sure if it was the booze or my feelings of frustration when dealing with Jimmy, but I was more aggressive than usual standing tall on the sand dunes at Kitty Hawk. We were face to face when I screwed my mouth up and let him have a piece of me, “You might understand people more easily, if you took the time to listen to what they have to say instead of stealing from them what your little heart desires.”

“You are one crazy ass white boy. I never stole anything from no one. They give it to me willingly and free of charge.”

“And then you bounce like a tomcat leaving nothing behind but scratch marks. Free to roam and find your next prey on either side of the train tracks.”

“You sound like a jealous faggot who wished he could be like me. I must confess there is an endless supply of holes to pound when your bi,” Jimmy laughed with his most self-serving, spoiled rich kid expression he wore so proudly.

My emotions were raw and I wanted to strike. Jimmy had called me faggot many times before in jest. And it never bothered me. This time was different and it hurt. I felt he used that word to try and belittle me and give himself a confidence booster. Before I did something regretful, I remembered a lesson learned in my favorite acting class. Professor Holden loved my skill at improvising scenes, but one time, he asked me what my motivation was behind a specific action. Before I could come up with an answer, he said all actors must understand each and every motivation behind their character’s actions. “How much of an action are they totally responsible for or do they share the motivation with another character?”

The truth burnt like the first summer tan when all I used was baby oil to fry my winter skin. Jimmy was manipulating me because I had allowed him too. There was a certain sense of freedom after I came out of the closet, but I had not wanted to accept the vulnerability felt beneath the surface; acting on the world’s stage as a proud gay man. Sometimes that is all it was acting. Or as Tim, the graduate assistant, who was the director of a small studio production I had the lead in once said, “Fake it till you make it.”

Perhaps that is why I had nicknamed Jimmy “Konnichiwa.” His handsome face and swagger were very welcoming to me. Many days I could not wait to be greeted by his bowing Kabuki style, which on the surface seemed very humble, but once I got to know him, he used it to move me around in his world as he saw fit. And I enjoyed being his pawn in hopes that it would grow into something more than it had. He was not a total asshole, though. I sensed concern from him. It’s like when you try and conceal a part of yourself from the world – vulnerability. The one friend closest to you reads it like you’re an open book. He wanted to be my silent protector and wasn’t sure how. He knew if he aligned himself totally to my way of life, then he would be seen just as vulnerable. And he could not handle that.

Konni shook me hard and said, “Fight like a real man, not a bitch!”

“You are not worth fighting for,” with that said, he pushed me hard and I tumbled off the dune for real this time.

Jimmy must have read my mind. As soon as he took the angry approach and pushed me off the sand dune, his feet followed, I suppose, worried that he may have hurt me. My two gymnastics classes saved me, backward somersaults were one of the best floor routines I’d put together. Marcus was running from one direction after his flight had ended and Jimmy was trying to run down the dune with not much success. My vision blurred by the sandstorm I had kicked up rolling backward for at least three and half turns. Landing on my stomach and spitting sand from my lips, it was no worse than riding big waves on the ocean when the strong current forced you to the sandy bottom, then suddenly, pushed you on shore like a beached whale. A few scratches on my exterior and a bruised ego within, I rolled over on my back to see Marcus staring down into my face.

“Are you okay? I had been watching you two from high in the sky. Why did that asshole push you off the biggest dune out here?”

Marcus grabbed my hands pulling me up and started brushing sand out of my hair. Jimmy had spastically made it down the dune and was standing behind me. Samuel came out of nowhere pushing Konni back placing me in between Marcus and Samson. “It must be the heat of the midday sun. We always have fights on the football field during the hottest part of practice. Marcus let’s take these two back and toss them in the pool for a cool down.” Samson grabbed Jimmy’s arm twisting it up behind his back and ordered, “Let’s walk.”

I could feel Jimmy’s red hot anger escalating. He did not take orders from anybody. “Let go of my arm, motherfucker!” With one strong-armed push, Samson released Jimmy’s arm and sent him flying face first in the sand.

My tennis friend and one time crush was being humiliated in front of tourists who had just come to Kitty Hawk for the views or to hang glide. They must have thought we were all stupid college boys who could not handle our booze. I went over to Jimmy and put out my hand to help him up. He refused it. His eyes concealed the hurt for being manhandled in public. Standing up and regaining his composure he turned to us and smiled as if he could not care less about what just took place. “You guys take the jeep. I’m gonna walk back to the house. It’s only a mile or so.”

Throwing my keys to Marcus, I tried to clean sand from every crevice of my body. Samson laughed and smacked me on the ass trying to help me. We reached the parking area without any words spoken. I’m sure Hendrix wanted to know what caused this fight but he was being considerate. Not asking just hoping there were not any surprises that he would hate to discover about me and Jimmy. I had told him we were tennis partners with no strings attached. Of course, his eyes had been staring at me and Jimmy on our first night in the hot tub. I explained the salty ocean breeze had turned us all into the horny sluts we did not have time to be while on campus.

Samson broke the silence as we turned into the driveway of Northernmost Nag. “I loved hang gliding but need to hit the outside shower and get rid of this sand before my dark-skinned body gets sanded down to the white meat.”

I laughed loudly and assured him the sand was his friend. “It helps us get rid of all the layers of dead skin still holding on from winter. When I was a kid and my family vacationed here, we had to deal with a tropical storm. Everybody was complaining about the wind, torrential rains and two days of missing the sun. Not me, I loved walking on the beach and feeling the winds whip the sand hard against my body. The rain kept me wet while the sands made my skin tingle and feel so alive. That was my first realization of how our skin could protect us from Mother Nature’s wrath. And then, when she is calm again, you’re rewarded with the smoothest, softest skin. Just like a baby’s ass.”

Samson got out of the back seat, opened my door, and pulled me out of the jeep picking me up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He turned to Marcus and hollered back, “Let’s all hit the shower. I wanna feel this big baby’s soft ass.”

David W Bradburn

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