---Part Nine - Just us Guys ---
I walked into my office and checked e-mail and phone messages, then looked at my calendar. Aside from one message, a co-worker calling me to say she had to take her kid to a dental appointment in the morning and wouldn't be in until noon, there was nothing pressing. I made a few calls, sent a few e-mails, talked to a few people then went upstairs and talked to my co-worker to tell him I was playing hooky for a few hours. If anything important came up, he should call me on my cell phone.
I rarely take time off, never call in sick, and stay at work long after most of my co-workers leave for the day. Even on the mornings that I would visit Veronica, I was still in the office before most of the others. In short, skipping out for a few hours was nothing for me to feel guilty about.
When I got back to the apartment compound, I found Mrs. Kravitz at her post, looking at me, looking at her. I smiled with no response from her. Jonah walked out the front door to come to the truck and Veronica, holding Emma waved good bye.
Jonah was wearing jeans with well worn boots and a Texas A&M t-shirt. He smelled freshly showered and I recognized the Axe body wash my son uses. He seemed enthusiastic about our little adventure and asked where we were off to. I drove out of the compound up to Military then headed west toward Highway 90. I told him I wanted to go someplace we could talk and get to know each other a little better. We stopped in at a Barbecue place and got some ice teas for our trip. We had a little chit chat and small talk as I drove.
I had the idea of going to an old fishing hole I took my kids when they were younger, and before long, we were on Highway 90 headed west toward the town of Castroville. I had the radio playing fairly low so we could talk but I asked Jonah what stations he listened to. What really surprised me about both Veronica and Jonah was the fact that they seemed so mature. Granted, at 25, I felt mature too, but in retrospect, I was just a little kid. Jonah shared a wide interest in musical tastes like me, saying, "Anything but hip hop."
He started punching the pre-sets to get an idea about the stations I listen to and with each new station, he would say, "That's cool" or "I can get into that."
He hit the last button, a station called Tejano 107.5, and Jimmy Gonzales and Grupo Mazz were belting out one of their hits.
Pero tengo que aceptar
Nada gano con llorar
Como pudo esto pasar
Me pregunto
Que manera de perder
Mas y mas; me acuerdo mas
Pero nada se compara amor
Como te quiero
Once you get beyond Loop 1604 anywhere south of Highway 90 in San Antonio, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of farms and ranch land. Texas is huge, and you can find yourself feeling the freedom of space just 15 or 20 minutes from the metropolis. We listened to the music with very little discussion and then I turned south onto Melcher Lane, directly between two cornfields. At the end of the road we turned east onto Gross Lane and I pulled the truck off the road into a clearing at a bridge where the Medina River crosses, maybe 40 to 50 feet at the most. The water is low enough that you could easily walk across most the way, and maybe get wet up to your waist at the deepest. Of course, wearing slacks and a shirt with tie, I had no intention of swimming.
I had not been to this place in years. I had these memories of taking my kids with small fishing poles and letting them fish, with absolutely no expectation of catching anything. We could spend an hour or two with maybe one other car passing by the whole time. If nothing had changed, I expected Jonah and I could kick back, drink tea and get to know one another with little interruption. And that's what we did.
I had the windows on the truck rolled down and I pulled the keys out of the ignition so I could open the door without the irritating bing bing bing. I began to loosen my tie and Jonah looked over at me, a bit alarmed and said, "Hey, I'm totally cool with you and your whole Bi thing, but I need you to know that I'm not that way."
I laughed out loud, "Relax. I'm not here to convert you."
There is an assumption that the men into "this thing" have latent homosexual feelings and they utilize their wives as a way of secretly fulfilling the need for contact with other men. While in a way, I can see how that might be true in some men, I have known too many guys that simply had no interest whatsoever in any form of male to male contact, yet, were extremely flexible if the activity involved the wife. I know that Veronica would have told me if Jonah was bi, or if she even suspected that he had hidden feelings about it. The idea that he could get off on the panties with my load so elegantly painted on them, did not surprise me in the least, given what I have learned over the years.
I took my tie off and placed it on the dash then rolled up my sleeves and made myself a little more comfortable. We were parked beneath a very large oak that provided a huge canopy of shade, but without much of a breeze, it wouldn't be long before the temperature would rise and things would be uncomfortable without the benefit of air conditioning. I repeated myself, "I'm not here to convert you, but if you feel the urge to show me your dick, I won't complain."
We both laughed and Jonah responded, "I think I'm good."
With that little ice breaker, our conversation flowed for more than an hour. Jonah told me about his time in the military, his tour in the war zone, and probably a little more detail than he should have shared. He told me about his family, growing up and in particular, the story about losing his virginity while visiting his uncle in Cotulla. There was definitely more to the story than Veronica had told me.
It turned out that his uncle Steven was actually not much older than him. Jonah's dad was the oldest of the family and Steven was the youngest, just about six or seven years older than Jonah. That year, the uncle had been seeing this younger gal. I hesitate to use the words Statutory Rape, but given the fact that the uncle was over twenty-one and the young lady was sixteen or so (I'm not sure of the exact details here) I think it would be safe to assume. Right or wrong, I get the feeling this type of relationship probably happens in many smaller towns in Texas, and elsewhere. Plus, defending his uncle, Jonah said, "Look how old you are compared to Veronica."