Change of Weather

Let's all f**k who we wanna f**k. Pete can't handle that. He thought he knew his world, but he didn't. Somethings gotta give. Maybe Pete.

 

 

 

                                                 

 

                                          Change of Weather

                      By Vinny Ciambriello

 

 

 

 

 

     John wasn’t gay a year ago. Now he is. We were at the Lion’s Pub, stooped over drinks. John gave me a sideways glance, smiled. I smiled back.

  “You know Martinez?” he asked.

  “The garbage man with the tattoos?”

      He said, “That very same one.”

  “What about him?”

      He did something with his eyebrows and I got it immediately. Then he nodded to my getting it.

  “Stop,” I said. He looked at me again until it sunk in deeper.

    “I was taking out the garbage. I was in my shorts.”

  “Was it hanging out?” I asked this since John wore boxers and that could happen.

  “No. He followed me back in and helped me take out this bag of rocks.”

  “What?”

  “Exactly.”

      I finished my beer. It was hard to swallow. Warm, you know.

  “I don’t buy it,” I said. “People just don’t go gay.” He shrugged. Apparently he hadn’t heard the rule.

  “Who said that? We just hit it off. It happens.”

  “No,” I said, ‘it doesn’t.” I thought of something. “So who fucked who?” I asked.

     John blushed. “How can you ask that?”

   “I don’t know. We’re buddies. If you’re getting it up the a*s I need to know.”

   “No,” he answered.

  “You’re not gay,” I said again. “Did you suck him? Did he blow you?”

  “No,” John answered.

  “Okay then.”

  “We kissed.”

  “You kissed,” I repeated.

  “After he grabbed my a*s and I grabbed his. But the guy in the truck honked, you know, so that was it.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “Cause he felt up your a*s? Am I losing my mind here? I must be. That’s it.” I knew I wasn’t, but I had to say something. I was irritated. I loved the guy…like a brother. We worked on the same site. He’d been over the house. My girl loved him. If he’d told me he was f*****g her, I could dig it. He’s a man, she’s a woman, s**t happens. I informed him about his own girl.

  “Helen,” he said.

  “I know her name.”

  “What do you want from me?” he asked.

  “I don’t know: someone who isn’t looking at my a*s when I walk in front of him.”

  “Sure.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll hook up. I don’t know.”

  “Oh, I think you do,” I said.

  “Sunday football...at his place,” he said.

  “And you’ll be blowing each other?” I ask.

  “Probably,” John said.

      John put his huge bear paw on my shoulder. He was big, huge, like his hormones didn’t realize it was time to stop.

 “You won’t tell her, will you?”

  “What do I say, John?  Your boy friend is playing hide the salami with the garbage man?”

     John laughed. He had a great laugh. There was no floral arrangement in it I laughed too.

  “Foot ball, huh?”

  “Greenbay,” he said.

  “Oh, the Green Bay Packers: well, that seals the deal.” I finished off my third beer, relieved some gas in a loud belch. “You’re not gay, John,” I said.

  “I know.”

  “You’re making me crazy,” I said.

     John shrugged his shoulders. That’s what he did when words weren’t in the making. Then he asked me a very pointed question: “What if I came on to you.”

  “I’d hit you with the barstool then run as fast as I can,” I answered.

 

          Monique was in a mood. She’d been in one for a week. She was banging doors and with every slam I felt my brain hit a dry wall.

  “Darling,” I said, pointing to my head, ‘you’re driving me nuts. I don’t need it tonight. Please.”

  “I’m bored,” she said. “I’m dying in here. You’re killing me. The life is draining from my body.”

  “You look fine. You’re so fuckable I can’t stand it,” I said, thinking I was saying something…cute. “Maybe that’s what we both need. I’ll bang you so you can stop banging the goddamned doors.”

     She ignored my suggestion. “You act like f*****g solves everything. Well, it doesn’t. You’re a f**k and what does that solve?”

     I began laughing. I swept my eyes up and down her beautiful body. “I love those tits,” I said.

  “I’m leaving,” she answered back. Monique was always leaving. No one had left as many times without actually going.

  “Okay,” I told her, “I’m sorry… about the f*****g thing. Really, I just want to sit and talk: a quiet chat. You tell me whatever and I’ll do the same: sound good?”

     She looked around with her hands on her hips.

  “You have no taste,” she said as if she hadn’t known it for years.

  “It’s okay. Let’s not fight,” I said. “Come here.”

  “Keep your paws to yourself,” she warned, balling her fists.

  “So tell me what the f**k I did now? Give me a hint.”

  “You’re a vulgar piece of s**t, a foul-mouthed b*****d.”
  “No I’m not,” I said. “I’m hurting tonight. I need TLC. Is that so bad?”

  “Drop dead.”

      I knew then that words weren’t going to smooth things over. I hoped I was wrong. I asked, “What about Mousy and Purr?” Mousy was the cat, Purr, the dog.

  “I’ll take them with me,” she said.

      I thought a moment, thought to keep it to myself, let it out anyway. It concerned her bowling partner, a very big, strong, biker type lady: Elinore. Maybe everyone was going queer today. “You and her, right? I knew it. I’m losing you to the dike?”

  “I hate you,” she said.

  “You didn’t last night,” I said.

  “Yes I did,” she said.

     The door slammed 20 minutes later after a noisy putting together of odds and ends, a further banging of drawers and cabinets, and a few more choice observations on her part.

  “So,” I said to Purr, “we’re abandoned.” The dog, a Chihuahua, bowed its head without a hint of pain.

     I asked the two of them about their mom. “She’s been around, right? Elinore. The PhD with the 220 bowling average who could have turned pro if she hadn’t also had a 172 IQ and a knack for whatever the hell she had a knack for. Big, weight-lifting Elinore who gave me a look every time she came over for whatever reason, probably to make sure I knew Marique would one day be hers. But I didn’t, did I? Stupid me, I was working.”

  The dog buried its head under its paws. I wasn’t sure if it was digesting the info or looking for its rawhide chew between the cushions.

  “I won’t tell you about John. I’m still digesting that myself.”

     I watched the cat give a swipe to Purr. “Go get her, Purr,” I said, wiping a tear. “So what if my muscles aren’t as big as Elinore’s, right Purr?” The dog had Mousy by the tail, but only for a second. I sat back and watched the give and take. I felt a tug inside. It wasn’t the meatloaf I’d had for lunch.

 

  “You know,” I said to Polly who lived next door, had a white picket fence and a genuine American auto, “stability’s a good thing.”

      She poured me a coffee and added a slice of home baked pie, just minutes past hot-out-of-the-oven, to my place setting.

  “It is,” she agreed, her apron filled with raggedy-anns in a tulip-filled garden.

  “It’s nice,” I said, pointing.

  “Yes,” she said, looking down at the apron: “Mom’s.”

  “That’s…”

  “Yes. I almost feel her with me when I’m wearing it.”

  “I have my dad’s fishing pole. We used to go every Friday on his day off…in the summer…late spring and summer.”

      Why hadn’t I noticed Polly before? We’d bumped into one another at the market, the post office and most lately at the Sons and Daughters of America meetings. Marique couldn’t be dragged to one.  “It suits little minds like yours,” she once said: “cave men.” When I pointed out the fact that women attended too, she adjusted it to, “cave men and cave women.” When I pointed out that she was by association a cave woman, she began speaking in each of the five languages she knew.

     Polly had a fine mind. I could tell. Suddenly I could. We chatted for an hour. It was a great hour. She had long, straight Scandinavian blond hair, a natural glow to her skin, and a smile that made me think of a life far away, just for two.

  “You know,” I said to her, “the next meeting of the Sons and Daughters is in a few days. We could grab a bite at Maxine’s and go together.”

     Polly smiled. “Okay,” she said, blowing the blond bangs out of her eyes.

  “I saw that in a movie,” I said, pointing.

  “Doris Day,” she said and we both laughed.

     It was a fine time. I forgot why I’d come over. She didn’t ask. I touched her hand as I went out her front door. I wondered if she noticed my feet some inches off the ground.

 

     Marique used to call me a stick in the mud besides all the other stuff.

  “You don’t bend this much,” she said, using her fingers to measure it.

  “How much do you want me to bend?” I asked.

  “You can’t is all.”

  “I don’t want to.”

     So I was a stick in the mud. When I told her about John, she said, ‘John bends’.

  “Yes, he would have to, wouldn’t he? “ I said back.

  “Asinine,” she said.

  “Why is it asinine?”

  “Because the world accommodates is why: you know nothing about it. They whipped you into shape pretty good, didn’t they?”

  “My mother used the blender. I think my father used a cat-o-nine.”

  “Asinine,” she repeated.

 

     Martinez gave me a lewd smile as I was dropping behind the wheel of my Pontiac. He was my garbage man too.  Him and John: amazing! Polly came out from next door. She was wearing a nice yellow dress, her hair in a bun. I rolled down the window. Maritnez banged on the garbage hauler and walked as it rolled to the next set of pails: Polly’s.

  “Hey, Polly,” I said, calling out the passenger window. She came out to the curb towards Martinez. They chatted. It looked like a first date. She was blushing. I gulped and tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

     She had the best looking front lawn on the block. There were windmills and other spinning doodads, huge flowers hanging like clanging bells on vines, a trellis too and a gazebo with room enough for two.

     Martinez was a big, swarthy man. I wanted to run him over. Dirty and ripe with the smell of several blocks of garbage and yet time to pick a flower or two.  I watched him follow her up her walk. As he did he looked back and gave me a wink. The door closed and three minutes later it opened again. He had a couple of small shelves in his hands and a wide smile on his face. I didn’t want to consider scenarios, but they were there: dancing, laughing, and in no great hurry to leave.     

     As I drove away, past the truck, I burned a stare into his back. His hand went to his butt and scratched it. It lingered there. Then he broke out laughing. I couldn’t kill the guy. I’d lose a friend.

 

     Purr barked at me when I showed up at lunchtime at the place. His high-pitched yap didn’t go well with my mood. He kept it up as Mousey rubbed past my leg.

  “Scratch his eyes out,” I told the cat, silly really because they were actually pretty good friends. “Shut up, you stupid dog,” I said as Mousy ambushed him and together they tumbled on the floor. A back and forth chase ensued.  They were making my eyes bang against the back of my sockets. “Will you both cut it…at least until I overdose.”

     I had the heavy duty bottle of pain-killer in my hand. After I took a few, I settled on the sofa with a bottle of wine from the fridge. Soon Mousy and Purr were onboard.

  “Had enough?” I said to them.

     As they quieted, I concentrated on issues. Purr’s gremlin head watched attentively.

  “Okay,” I said: “Listen up. It’s time you two were caught up with the goings on in my little piece of heaven. It seems I’m a dinosaur. I don’t know which kind, but they’re all dead so type is unimportant. John, you know, big, bad John, well he’s gone homo and Martinez, he’s the garbage guy you hate, Purr, he’s this way, that way and any way that’s too close to me and frankly I hate his guts more than you do. This is what humans do, guys. We have rules. There are rules. But now, suddenly, there aren’t any.”

     I took a slug of the wine. I didn’t like it, but with the pain killers… I got back my train.

 “So I have to bend, because I don’t want to go to prison where everyone f***s everyone else, or to hell for killing myself.  I have to bend…to do it without breaking. Since everyone around here changes with the weather, I’m thinking I should too. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, mind you two, but I’m going to have lunch or dinner with my lady or someone and no matter what they’re into, I’m going to see what I can get out of it. I’m going to try. And if they hit me up for a change of weather-Purr, pay attention: the chew is not between the cushions-if they ask me, well, I don’t know. I’m a stick in the mud. There may not be much hope for me. I may give off beeps like radar…Mousy, stop licking your a*s: you know how I hate that. If you have to go, go. If not, leave it alone until you do.” I got up. “I have to get back. Remember: things are a bit weird these days. The world is, I don’t know, out of its freaking mind. Thanks for the listen to.” Purr went back to licking his butt as Mousy chewed her paws, top and bottom. It was so easy being non-human.

 

     I tapped on Polly’s door at 5:30 sharp to take her to Monica’s or Maxine’s, whatever the damned place was called. I’d worked out and felt pumped. My hair was washed, my nails trimmed. My balls were humming too.

     She answered the door, looked surprised. She seemed unready, like I don’t know, like she had another guy in there. The alarm bells started clanging. I tried looking over her shoulder. Then I looked at her.

  “You look beautiful,” I said, handing her a 6-pack of red roses I picked up on the way home from some immigrant selling them along the road.

  “Hi, Pete,” she said, taking the roses as if there might be a coral snake hiding among them.

  “Can I come in?” I asked.

  “Oh…” She seemed lost in thought.

  “I’m feeling like I could use…”

  “What, Pete? I haven’t gone shopping all week. There’s nothing in the house.”

     I didn’t like the open door scene. “Maybe we should just go,” I said.

  “I can’t, Pete,” she said. “That’s just it: I can’t.”

  “Even for a guy whose looking for stability?” I thought the word might jar her memory.

     I stood there and stood there. Her eyes lit up. She waved at something over my shoulder. Martinez came up the walk, scented and all twitchy happy. On his arm was Marique. I wish I could have fallen over. I wish shock had that kind of overwhelming effect on me. As it was, I stumbled away, tripping over garden stones like some drunk. But I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t bending. There was not enough flexibility in the universe.

  “You can come,” Polly said to my retreating form.

  “Yeah, we need another guy,” Martinez said without a speck of truth behind it. He wasn’t laughing but I could feel it anyway.

  

     I took the car and drove to John’s place. I knocked then kicked then did both. I sat on his burgundy soft leather sofa, sank in nicely. I ran my fingers over it, saying nothing. John disappeared into the kitchen and came back carrying a beer I thought it was for me until he opened it and took a belt.

  “What do you want, Pete?”

      I heard a toilet flush. Tom came out, zipping his fly.

  “It isn’t what you think,” Pete said, rather sharply. I had chosen the wrong stop along the road. The bridge would have been better.

     The bell rang. It was Samson. Tom and Samson were part of our crew. Tom sat next to me. Samson took up the recliner, John the ottoman.

  “Are we going to work tonight?” I joked. I glanced at the book on Tom’s lap. I felt my gut go to Jelllo.

  “We’ll do Laviticus first, okay?” Tom said.

   “Hey, guys,” I said, “come on. What’s that? Come on.”

     John looked past me to Tom. “All right with me: Sammy?”

  “Sure.”

   “What the hell…?” I stood up. “I know you guys for…god, how long. What is it? They ran out of porn at the corner shop, Tom? No nude mud wrestling tonight, Sammy? No dead presidents between wet, slimy tits? When did you fuckers become holy roller a******s? Or am I being…rude?”

   “The Lord’s Prayer,” Tom announced.

  “The Lord’s Prayer?” I repeated. I looked at John who probably felt my eyes boring into his skull. “The f*****g world’s gone insane. F**k me, god almighty!”

    I walked fast, slammed the door. I took the car to the bay, found a bench and sat. God threw people in hell for not keeping the Sabbath. Talk about not bending. I was in good company, only I was alone.

     A man with a walker came by, sat next to me. I looked at all the empty benches.

  “I need to be alone,” I told him.

  “And I need to empty this colostomy bag,” he said, patting it.

     I laughed.

  “So why are you here?” I asked.

  “Same as you,” he said.

  “Which is…?”

  “Waiting for the next world to begin.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, listening to the wave’s breaking song. The breeze helped. It was loaded with the sea.

     The man got up, rolled himself to the water’s edge and when the next wave broke, followed it out. He swam very fast. In his heyday he might have been a champ. He kept going out. I got up, feeling an itch in the back of my scalp. I walked to the water. By the time I got there, there was nothing but foam waiting for the next splash of water. Nor did he return for his walker. I took it home with me. I was unhinged by the episode.

     Polly saw me the next day sitting on my front steps. I was sprawled actually.  She came up to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

  “You need love,” she said, sitting down beside me.

  “I need love,” I repeated, trying to smile.

  “Come by when you can. I have fresh pie just out of the oven.”

  “Okay,” I said softly. I felt my eyes swimming at that moment. It was as if a door with a great all-encompassing light had opened just a notch.

  “I need love,” I said again as she walked across the lawn to her place. I went inside, brushed my teeth. Purr came in, looking up at me with his bugged eyes. It was as if he was asking are you doing okay.’

     I didn’t have an answer.  I was going over to have cake. That was it. It felt good to be doing that. Maybe she’d be wearing that apron. Maybe Martinez would be f*****g Marique on the BBQ stove in the back yard. Maybe Elinore would be sitting on her face. There were a lot of maybes in the world and people to fill them in. For now it was cake and I intended to eat it like it was the last piece I’d ever get.

 

Reviews

Well written. I commend you.

[Sunni Davis]

I enjoyed the flow of this story and the characters were well developed. I got sucked in with the first sentence and nothing could have stopped me from reading to the end. Great story!

[Dane Osborne]

I think the world has always been insane. I seriously liked this. I honestly wanted to find something to critique but I coulden't LOL ha ha. I'm a guy who gives credit where credit is due and this was a very tight and well written story that kept me glued to the screen. It has a "everyday common man" feel that I like. I dug the honesty and this peice had real humanity. The world turns how it turns and people just do as they do. Well done and i'm surprised this hasn't gotten any reviews.