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So now I have another problem to solve: Daniel and Mark together. If there ever was a recipe for fireworks, that was it. The biggest challenge, however, will be to protect Mark's reputation. I don't think there's a single MrB reader who doesn't. They don't admire the guy. I do, and I *almost* always have. I thought he was a real scoundrel when he first harassed Cody in the schoolyard. I changed my mind. Later, Cody revealed more about the aggressive Mark, his softer side, and his willingness to befriend Cody. That's when I decided to take a risk and write Mark's story from his point of view. I improvised a lot, and there were moments when I thought I'd messed everything up. But no. Cody's persistence and something deep in Mark's heart pulled it all together.
So I have to be very careful not to upset any of Mark's "fans," but I also need to create a situation that is interesting and entertaining. Interactions between the two men, as well as with Daniel's stepbrother Greg, his parents, and some of his friends, including Paul.
But the challenges don't end there, folks! I don't intend to drag Daniel through the trauma of learning about Cody's death. We all know that feeling, and it's not something we want to revisit. I'm going to write the story so that Daniel has had time to process Cody's death and come to terms with it. Eternal youth is his blessing. He'll never be older than his mid-twenties, no matter how many years I write about him. I know it's absurd, but Daniel will still be a teenager despite Cody's death being almost two years ago. In fact, today is the second anniversary of gnote—his handwriting and a scanned note for my 57th birthday in 2001. It arrived two days early. August 27th.
I also need to learn some sailing terminology, as well as a bit about… sailing itself. Pointed end, blunt end, hello matey, that sort of thing. I've found a website that looks like a pretty good research tool, and I've bookmarked it. We can't afford to have Mark spouting incomprehensible landlubber gibberish after the long sailing trip. From Johannesburg to Florida!
The meeting between Mark and Daniel offers a wonderful opportunity. I would like to remember Cody from two perspectives. Forgive my indulgence, but there is no other way. I will let the flame of Cody's enormous influence on us all continue to burn. Extinguished. Impossible, José!
Part 2
For a long time after I received the news of Cody's death, the mere mention of his death was enough to unsettle me. His name would bring tears to my eyes; or at least make them. My eyes would water and burn intensely. My mother, Andy, and Greg avoided using his name. I would call it out around the house, and my friends would do the same at school or on weekends.
But after a few months [my mother called it the "grief period"], I calmed down a bit. I went out and focused more on the happy memories of my friend than on my loss. And there were countless memories; hundreds of them, that would stay with me. Forever. So if his name comes up in conversation now, that's okay. I can handle it. There's a lot to laugh about and be happy about. Okay, there are sad times too, me as well, but I'm learning to deal with them.
Early one Saturday morning, my dark-haired, blue-eyed buddy Paul and I were riding around on our BMX bikes, brainstorming ways to kill some people. He suggested we go to the Tampa Bay Marina. Yeah, not a bad idea. There was always plenty to see, like all those magnificent yachts and cruise ships. My family and I could never afford our own boat. An inflatable was more within our budget.
The marina was also a popular meeting place for amateur anglers casting their lines. They fished from the quays or simply flung their rods out. Many boys my age and younger were there. I was interested, but I didn't have the patience to fish. It was great to watch, though. The seagulls squabbled, always hoping for a few morsels. But they were no match for them. And then there were the pelicans, who can swallow a whole fish in one gulp. Thank you so much! Next!
"I wonder what they think of people."
"The pelicans? Hey, if someone kept throwing food at you, what…" Would you think that? That he was crazy, right?
We chained our bikes to a post, each got a Pepsi and a hot dog from a kiosk, and took a walk along the various boardwalks, admiring the moored boats. Boats—dozens and dozens of them—brass fittings and varnished wood gleaming in the Florida morning sunshine, cared for and polished by their proud owners.
Paul and I had tied our T-shirts around our waists and were barefoot, so it was kind of cool to see some people staring as we walked by. What's the point of having a tanned, muscular body if it doesn't attract attention? Watch out! Wow! Just as I was thinking this, I spotted a young man—a shirtless man, well, he was about 19 or 20—working on the deck of a yacht. Holy crap! What a hot guy! With every movement, his body tensed, with pure, toned, firm muscle that stood out even more clearly through the glistening film of sweat on his tanned skin. He wasn't overly muscular, just well-trained and athletic.
Paul and I were standing just a few feet away, watching the guy while we ate. We ate our hot dogs and sipped our Pepsi. I was kind of hoping he'd notice me. Well, he did for a brief moment, but then went back to his work. I didn't even understand how he did it. Not a single smile or a "hello." So I figured I'd have to make the first move.
"Cool boat, man."
"Thanks."
"Are you from around here?"
"Nope." The guy answered like a robot, giving me answers but not actually paying. He attracted a lot of attention. In fact, he seemed a bit aggressive... the kind of guy you'd rather not mess with. Then he suddenly stopped working and looked at me. "Excuse me. Are you the...?" "The owner's son or something?"
"Yes, of course! That would be nice! Oh well, we're just locals looking at the boats." Something to do. Who owns them?
"A certain Robinson. We expect him here this morning. We arrived last week."
"Of what?"
"South Africa."
"Cape Town?"
“No. Durban. That’s where the boat was built. More precisely, it was built in Johannesburg, then transported by truck with special equipment to Durban, where the masts, sails, and other equipment were installed. Mr. Robinson is receiving it today.”
"Is your name Mark?"
That piqued his curiosity. He straightened up, looked at me, and I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of his impressive, powerful chest. "Yes. How did you know that?"
"Cody's friend?"
"You knew Cody?"
"This is my mate Paul. I'm Daniel." We all shook hands as Mark leaned towards me. His grip could have easily crushed all my fingers. Wow! He was still... I was standing on deck while Paul and I stood on the pier. Then I told him how my school's swim team had visited Cape Town to compete against a number of other schools, including Cody's. "I think that was the year before you." I met Cody. Did he tell you about us?
"No."
"He told me about you. He wrote me many emails."
"Yes, I knew he had friends online. I never understood why." But he already had a whole bunch of friends at home. So, guys, I have to go now. Please finish cleaning up before Mr. Robinson arrives. I don't mean to be rude. Maybe we should say, "I can catch up later."
"Where are you staying?"
"We checked into the Marriott."
"The Marriott Hotel on the water? Wow! That's really great! But that was to be expected. This boat. Sorry, yacht. Do you have a pen or something? I'll give you my cell phone. 'Number.' Then an idea came to me. 'Hey, can we help you prepare the boat for Mr. [Name] Robinson?'"
“Do you know anything about yachts?” he asked, scribbling my phone number on a piece of paper. A piece of paper which he then put in the pocket of his shorts.
"Uh... not really."
"Then I would be spending my valuable time teaching you the basics, so to speak." It's faster if I do the work myself. Sorry, guys. But thanks for the offer."
"Please call me as soon as you can. It will be nice to chat about old times." Cody."
As Paul and I walked back to our BMX bikes, my friend got us into trouble. "You want to talk to Mark about the old days with Cody? You're crazy! Forget it, Daniel. Cody never told Mark about us because he didn't want Mark to know everything about sex and stuff."
"I hadn't even thought of that. I was way too excited to meet Mark. Wow! Is that him?" "Simply amazing, isn't it?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"Yes, yes, yes, don't give me any trouble. Okay, so we're not talking about sex." And so on. Just all that other stuff.
"What else was there?" Paul laughed. "The whole trip consisted of nothing but sex, sex, and more sex."
"You're forgetting the swimming competition. But there were plenty of other things too..." the hike up the mountain, meeting Cody's friends, the meal with his parents, practicing our swimming at Paul's house... and so much more."
"I bet Mark's wondering what Cody told you about him in his emails. Maybe." Mark won't call you.
"Stop being so damn negative! Of course he's calling."
"Why would he? Think about it. Cody didn't mention you or me, so it's not like..." Mark doesn't know anything about us. We're strangers, man. Total fucking strangers."
"Are you trying to ruin my damn day?"
"No. I'm just being realistic, man. I don't want you to get your hopes up." "To be disappointed."
"It had to happen this way, Paul. Cody's got his fingers in the pie somehow. I just know it." "Mark in Tampa? How likely is that? It was fate."
That put an end to my plans to go anywhere that afternoon. I desperately wanted to go home. In case the phone rang. So Paul and I cycled back to my house, where we narrowed our group. I splashed around in the pool until lunchtime. I considered calling some of the guys, and I could have invited them over, but that would have been a bit awkward if Mark had called. Greg was out somewhere with Lindy, so that left just Paul, Kyle, and me... and my friends.
"Lunch is ready!" Mom called as she placed burgers and fries on the patio table. Andy helped by carrying the salad and a tray of drinks. Paul and I climbed out of the pool, closely followed by a wet dog doing what dogs do. As soon as he got to the table, he vigorously shook all his shaggy black hair and a white coat, and sprayed a huge jet of water all over the damn place, causing everyone to shield their faces.
"Why do dogs do that?"
“They don’t know how to use towels,” Mom smiled as Paul and I grabbed a towel. We dried each other off. “And we don’t know how to do what he does. Maybe that’s a good thing. There’s a bone in the fridge. You’d better give it to him. He’ll bother us with his sad ‘Why-am-not-giving-you-anything-to-eat?’ eyes.”
Yes, I thought, as I ran naked into the kitchen to get the bone, dogs had a way of making you feel incredibly guilty if you ate and the others didn't. I was back. He went outside in a flash and threw the bone onto the lawn, where Kyle pounced on it. And soon he had it wedged between his front paws and was happily gnawing on it.
"Mmm, McNancy's," I said before taking the first bite. "Your burgers are amazing." "Run, Mom." And they were. Neither McDonald's nor Burger King nor anyone else could compare. My mom's burgers tasted fantastic. Paul agreed. He was wearing half his clothes. He wiped it with the back of his hand and then licked it clean. "Where are your damn manners, man?"
"Manners aside, burgers aren't meant to be delicate," he grinned, knowing that eating outdoors didn't have the same rules of etiquette as eating in restaurants. Then he stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth and frowned. He wrinkled his nose at me.
"How do dogs actually know how to get their way?" I wondered, watching Kyle on the lawn. "It's not like they've learned it or anything. Must be instinctive or something."
“We teach them unconsciously.” Andy was the one who offered the answer. “They read.” Their body language is like the way we read a book. They’re no different from children. They know they can wear you down and that sooner or later you’ll give in. Sometimes I wonder if dogs know us better than we know ourselves.”
My mother was more interested in Mark than in dog behavior. She wanted to know more about the hottie.
"So, if you saw him, Mom, I think you'd totally freak out. He's really hot." A real head-turner—a real heartthrob. Cody told me the guy turned heads everywhere he went. "He left."
"Oh? Then you have to invite him to dinner." She realized what she'd said and blushed. "I mean, if he's friends with Cody, then of course he's welcome here anytime."
"Just don't run off with a young sailor," Andy grinned, giving my mother a friendly elbow bump.
"Men! All they ever think about is… Never mind. It doesn't hurt to take a look, though. It's…" Not that I'm blind or old-fashioned or anything. Deep down, I'm still a girl. "You know."
Late in the afternoon, the phone still hadn't rung. Well, it had rung, but they weren't. I would call for my mother or Andy. Then I would be out of the pool at the speed of light, soaking wet. By the time I realized the call wasn't from Mark, I was already out the back door.
"You need to calm down," Paul insisted as he dried himself off. "This isn't going to be fun." Stay here tonight if you're already completely freaked out from "Damn it, that damn phone's ringing!"
"Are you mad at me?"
"Not really. But I'm starting to get pretty annoyed. You've become so quiet and moody."
"Sorry, buddy. Hey, maybe I should call the Marriott Hotel."
"And who am I supposed to ask? You don't even know Mark's last name. He never mentioned Cody. Besides, the room is probably registered in his boss's name or something."
"Well, I can't wait forever! I have to do something! This is..." "This is driving me crazy."
"Tell me that! Hey, want to go camping in the garden tonight?" A tent? Like in the old days? Remember Danny's trick with the feather? You know, the cooking brush or something. Maybe that'll make you feel better."
I grabbed my towel from the back of the patio bench and started drying my blonde hair. By the time I answered my friend, I was already drying my bum and crotch. "Yeah, maybe you're right, Paul. Mark doesn't even know me, and yet I act like it." Like some damn schoolgirl with a crush. He'd probably think I was some kind of... I'd feel like an idiot trying to contact him. But it would be cool to talk to him about Cody. Him."
"You can talk to me about Cody."
"Thanks, man. But it's not the same."
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FORGIVE - Provided