I guess after mom died, my sister took over the role of chief family busy body. Don’t get me wrong, I love Angela. She just wants to take care of everybody and she don’t always realize it don’t help to do stuff for me, you know? I like taking care of myself. So when she kept telling me I needed somebody to stay with me while I was laid up with the leg cast, I kept saying no way. I could handle it. But a busybody don’t listen, it’s in the job description. So this guy shows up at my door and says Angela hired him to come over and be like my cook and housekeeper... I could have sent him packing, sure, but it would hurt Angela’s feelings and I was afraid if I didn’t let this guy do it then she might come over, herself, and that I couldn’t stand! Jeese, Angela digging through my house and going through my stuff? Hell no. Better a stranger, right? So I give in, I tell him the situation and says, “Hey, a couple of days, okay?” He laughed. He was a pretty joe guy. Now you’d think, huh, a guy that takes a job as a live in housekeeper, nurse? He’s gotta be a little bald, skinny nice guy, right? Or maybe a plump and nervous sissy? But this guy looks like a construction worker. He’s not so tall, maybe 5’10” but he’s built really dense. Like he could lift iron all day or something. His name’s Wallace, he says. I ask if they call him Wally. Not twice, he says, so I laugh. I like the joker. I been laid up for a week since I fell down the stairs at work and I been mostly alone and getting kinda house bound and bored. Nice to have somebody to talk to and if he can cook, hell, why am I complaining, huh? He says, “Pink tee shirt? Cute.” “Aw, I washed a pair of red socks in with my underwear, turned everything pink! I even got pink shorts, for Christ sake!” “Oh, I thought it was a social statement or something, you know, Proud To Be Pink, or whatever?” He grinned. “What? Like I’m a faggy gay radical? Yeah, sure! I missed the parade ‘cause of my cast, right!” I limped, wobbled over to the couch and kinda fell on it. “Shut the door, would ya? That’s cold air coming in here!” “Let me get my bag”, he says. And out on the stoop he’s got this sea bag, a long canvas job he drags in and then he closes the door. “About time, thanks! I got no pants on over here! Gonna catch pneumonia or something; you leave the fucking door open all the time!” “A little fresh air couldn’t hurt! What the hell you been smoking, cigars? Stinks in here!” He tossed his bag and peeled off his denim work jacket. “Well, thanks very much! Who asked you? I been a little off my household duties, seeing as how I can’t walk three feet without a crutch. Ask me to apologize? Okay, I’m sorry as shit I’m such a slob, okay? Happy? That’s why you got a job, Wally!” “God damn! You gettin into self-pity already? Don’t be so touchy, all right? I’m here to help you not to be your punching bag! And you call me Wally again I’m outta here, understood?” He picked up his jacket, waited. “Aw, man! Don’t get all offended, shit! So I got a smart mouth, ignore me, everybody else does. Jeesh, I ain’t picking a fight with you! Sit down. You like Oprah or Judge Judy?” “I hate daytime TV. One feminine hygiene commercial and I’m finished! Just tell me where I can stow my gear and point me at the kitchen. I never feel at home until I’ve scrubbed the kitchen, cooked something. When you want lunch?” “Aw, I donno, man. See? Angela didn’t think, I got no furniture in the guest room, it’s just a storeroom for junk. You can take the bedroom, right in there (I pointed) ‘cause I been sleeping on the couch, anyway...and I’ll take lunch anytime. Just had coffee this morning, out of cereal. Out of most everything, really. You wanna go to the grocery store? That’d be a big help!” “Sure. You make a list. Whatever you like to eat.” He picked up his bag and went into the bedroom. His loud whistle of amazement made me grin. Fuck it. I’m not good at household duties even when I’m not crippled up. “Godalmighty, dude! You got shit three layers deep in there! Has your shower always been green or is that a biological reaction?” He laughed but shook his head in disapproval. “What are you? some kind of clean freak? If we’re gonna do the odd couple I want to know before the show starts.” “I was in the navy six years, guess it rubbed off on me,... the neat and clean stuff. I’m not a clean freak but uh, I hope you’ve got some fresh sheets somewhere. Those on your bed are brittle with dried cum. Afraid they’ll break if I lay down on ‘em.” His eyes danced. He wanted to laugh but kept it under control. “Well, fuck you! Maybe you got a regular squeeze but I’m single and lonely. I have the occasional wet dream, so?” “So no wonder you been sleeping on the couch!” His nose wrinkled up. “Here. I made a list, add anything you think of...I donno what you like. Keys to my truck, some cash... A super market down about three blocks that’a way”, I hooked my thumb south. “Leave the door unlocked so I don’t have to get up again when you get back.” After he left I started to worry about my truck and the hundred bucks cash. Shit, I ain’t known this guy ten minutes. What if he didn’t come back? He seemed pretty trustable, but my problem was I always trusted the wrong people! I picked up the phone. “Angela?” “Gordy? How are you, hon? Did Wallace show up?” “Yeah, that’s why I called. Seems like a nice enough guy, Angie, but I’m suppose to live with this guy a few days? How well you know him? Is he gonna steal the silver or anything?” “You don’t have any silver, Gordon! I doubt he’ll want your TV, either, too old and a lousy picture. He’s a great guy, I’ve known him for years, went to school with him. Since he got out of the navy he’s been working at the Eagle Grill, where I eat all the time... but he broke up with Sally, the owner? I think they’ll get back together, but he was kinda down, at loose ends, you know. Sally fired him, kicked him out of the apartment, of course, but customers are complaining. He’s a great cook, Gordy, and nobody likes Sally’s cooking! I hope they work it out pretty quick, I really miss his vegetarian omelets. Maybe I could come over for supper?” She almost slammed me with the hint. I glanced around at the sorry state of the house, pictured the kitchen and cringed. “Not tonight, Angie, please! I just don’t feel up to company. My leg’s been aching all day, I’m grouchy and in no mood...” “Okay, okay! I don’t want to intrude. I know you value your space! Mom always said you’d turn into a hermit. I was hoping Wallace could cheer you up. He always makes me smile.” “Yeah, he’s cool. He’s at the store right now, I was out of groceries...” “Oops, there’s another call coming in, hon... I’m listing the new Willow Haven development, gotta run...” “Yeah, catch you later, sis.” He was boning the boss, huh? That’s a sure way to lose your job. Stands to reason it ain’t gonna last forever and she sure don’t want to see him when it’s over. He wasn’t as smart as I thought. I never mixed sex with work. Hell, I didn’t mix sex with anything. At least he was getting some. I’d been going without so long it started to feel natural. Should have been a priest or something! I fell asleep, I guess, ‘cause the cold air woke me up. A strong breeze whipped through the door and went right up the leg of my oversized boxers. They were the only thing I could get over the cast without a fight. Wallace was right there; beside the couch... he was stacking the change beside my keys. I gasped at the cold when I opened my eyes, reached to shove my tee shirt down over my crotch. Wallace saw it, grabbed up the afghan mom knitted off of her old rocker. “Here you go”, he spread it over my legs. “I got a couple more bags to bring in.” “...thanks, man..”, but he was already gone. I went back to sleep. Guess I could trust him after all. I woke to the smell of bacon. Now, that’s a good smell, you know? It’s like when I was a kid, waking up while mom cooked breakfast. I could almost hear her calling me, telling me I’d be late for school. I even had a big hard-on, just like back then. Mmmm, I squeezed it. “Down, boy!” Warm up under the wool afghan, sweaty. I tossed it off, tried to sit up. Still had trouble moving that heavy cast around. Like having an anchor around your leg. I kicked the table, toppled a beer can to the floor. It rolled toward the kitchen and Wallace came out just in time to pick it up before it stopped rolling. “Hiya! Waking up? I was afraid I’d wake you with all the noise but you didn’t budge. You sleep like a fucking log!” “Yeah, always was a heavy sleeper. I was up all night, watching late movies. God, that bacon smells great!” He came on over, bent to slip a hand under my arm, “I’ll help you up, come on and sit at the table. It’s about ready.” He glanced down at my boner sticking out the fly. Shit! He didn’t say nothing, but I got it covered quick as I could. Just like one of them dreams where your pants disappear and everybody gets to stare at your secrets, you know? I guess I flushed. He didn’t laugh or nothing. “Thanks. Getting up is a pain. I need a chain lift, block and tackle. This fucker weighs a ton!” “I can handle it, let me...”, he lifted my cast and swung it around, eased it to the floor. “Now can you?” He grabbed my arm and I pulled on his shoulder. He stood up and I rose like magic. “Hey! All right! Thanks.” “You want the crutch? Or what?” “Nawh, it hurts my shoulder. Just let me lean on you for balance. I’ll hobble along slow.” We made a picture. Looked like I was drunk and he was taking me home. He supported me around my waist and I reached up to grab his neck. His shoulder was too thick for me to grasp. Damn, his muscles were hard as rock. I stopped inside the kitchen door. Stared. “Jesus! Looks like a different place! How long was I sleeping? Where’d you put everything? Damn, look at the floor! What’d you do? scrape it down and paint it? I forgot it was yellow!” He kinda’ beamed, I guess. He grinned, anyway and I could see he was proud of his self. “Just cleaned up a little, flushed it maybe”, he laughed. “I can’t stand a messy kitchen. Just me, you know.” “Shit! It ain’t been this clean since my mom died last year. And even before that, she had all these cute little cows and shit cluttering it up...” “Yeah, the cows.. and pigs and the plastic fruit. I should have asked, I guess, but I packed all that up in boxes, put ‘em in the spare room. It’s easier to clean a kitchen without all that stuff. I can put ‘em back if you really ... you know, it’s your house and all, I just..” “Hell, don’t Ever! This is cool! ... I can see out the window!” “Yeah, the curtains was pretty grungy and the plants was dead ... I tossed ‘em. Guess I got into it, huh? Brightens up the room, and I put in a couple of new light bulbs, too. It was dark as hell in here.” “Lemme sit down, okay?” I eased toward the table. He lowered me into a chair and pulled up the little step stool to prop up my cast leg. When he shifted my foot over he touched my bare foot where the plaster left it uncovered. I jumped. “Sorry. You ticklish?” “Hell yeah! But it ain’t funny! I can’t stand nobody to touch my feet!” “Okay, okay. Dirty as they are, I doubt many people will try and touch ‘em! When you had a bath, Gordy?” “Hey, don’t ‘Gordy’ me and I wont ‘Wally’ you, deal?” “Sure. No problem. That’s what your sister always called you.” He washed his hands at the sink. Guess my feet was kinda disgusting. Not just my feet, either. I probably smelled like a garbage dump. “But only Angela...everybody else calls me Gordon, or Shithead, depending on the mood. Where’s the food? I’m starved and that smells terrific!” “Gordon, I donno... it’s like Wallace... both kind of dumb names, huh?” He opened the oven and pulled out this big skillet full of fluffy looking omelet, made my mouth water. “Yeah, well, at least we didn’t get stuck with something pansy like Lynn or Marion, parents don’t give a shit, name their kids anything.” I laughed but it was an old tender spot. ‘Gordy’ always made me crazy, even when Angela called me that. He paused and grinned at me. “My first name is Frances, can you beat that? I think my old man hated me, named me after his dad and he never liked him!” He laughed. “That’s private, okay? Don’t even tell Angela. I went all through school on “Buddy”, just dropped that in the navy. Got used to my last name. Better than Frances. Shit!” “Yeah, what’s that old Johnny Cash song? A Boy Named Sue? I used to think anything would be better than Gordy till I heard that one! ... Man! That looks great!” He served me up a plate full of eggs and green onions, bacon and cheese, little cubes of ham and diced peppers... best stuff I ever ate! He also had toasted English muffins with cream cheese and blueberries and orange juice and a fresh pot of coffee. Hot damn, this was incredible! My coffee never tasted like that! “Mmm”, I just grunted as I stuffed my face, I was starved. Hadn’t had a decent meal since I ran out of TV dinners ... well, before that, I guess. He watched me, just had a small serving of eggs and a cup of coffee. He looked pleased, kept watching me shovel it in. “Okay, it’s wonderful! What do ‘ya want? You stay and cook and I’ll give you my truck... my house, fuck it, you can have my ass if you feed me like this!” He laughed. “Yeah, I knew that pink shirt meant something. Forget it! I fucked my last boss, ain’t gonna play that game no more!” I laughed, too. He was a funny guy. “Heard about that. Angie told me.” My smile faded, “Sorry man. I mean... think you guys will work it out? Get back together or what?” “I doubt it. I jumped into that domestic shit before I was ready. I’d rather be on my own, like you.” “Hell, it ain’t so great, Buddy, being alone. Grass is always greener, you know? I keep wishing I had somebody regular. I hate the singles bars and all that shit. Too old to date. Get past thirty and your options drop to women with three kids and an ex-husband, a history and baggage, you know. You been there.” “Sure. Guess that’s why I moved in with Sally so quick. Right out of the navy? I should have looked around first, I guess... got my bearings.” He stood and picked up our plates, stacked them in the sink. “Fuck it. Ancient history. Live and learn.” “Least you didn’t marry her!” “Huh? Who?”, he turned and gave me a funny look. “Sally! Breaking up is tough enough without lawyers and judges messing with you. I got married my junior year of college. All my friends was getting married, figured it was the thing to do, you know. Lasted about three years. No kids, thank god. But she really drug me over the fire ‘cause I was fucking around. Lost the house, my stereo and furniture and everything, a fucking new mini van. Then she marries some geek a month after we signed the papers. Hell, she was fucking him all along. I didn’t even know it.” “Ouch! That why you never date and shit? Angela says you gave up, stay in the house all the time. She worries about you.” “Damn, she talks about everybody, huh? Never could keep her nose out of other people’s business! She’s the one needs marrying. If she had a couple of kids she wouldn’t have time to meddle in my life! If she’d just lose a few pounds.” “Yeah. She’s a looker. or could be if she tried. I always thought she was pretty, anyway. Don’t know why she never found a guy and married.” Wallace came over and tugged at my arm. Bent to set my foot back on the floor. “Okay. This chair is getting hard, anyway. Good to sit up a while thought... lunch was great. Toss me back on the couch.” He got me up and we made it to the doors to the bedroom and bathroom. “Wait a sec... Got to pee. I can hold onto the sink if you get me in position.” “Okay ... how you been getting around? Guess you can’t get a bath or nothing?” He stood me in front of the john and stayed behind me with a hand on my waist to balance me. “No way, can’t get the cast wet. Tell you the truth, I been sitting down to piss. Like a girl. Hated it but I was afraid I’d fall over”, I waited with my dick in my hand, nothing came out. The pause got long enough to be embarrassing. “Sorry, can’t do it, not with you right there. Too shy or something. Guess I’ll have to sit down so you can step outside. I’m a dork, don’t say it!” ’s okay. I used to be shy. Barrack’s life broke me. After a while you learn to shit while ten guys stand there waiting their turn. Military kills your modesty right off... forget what personal privacy is all about.” “Well, I was never in, so? You mind? I really got to pee!” “Okay, okay. You want to sit down? I’ll help you turn around... let me get your shorts down...” “Hey, man! Let up, all right. I can manage.” I pulled my shorts back up over my dick. Jeesh, he really did forget about personal privacy! He laughed. “Fuck you, I’ve seen a few dicks before. You got nothing new. Soon as you piss I’m gonna take all your clothes off and scrub you down. You stink man! gotta clean you up, shave and brush your hair. You looked in a mirror lately?” “Later, just let me pee, okay? Sonofabitch, can’t a man piss in private in his own house?” I shoved the big lug towards the door. “Out!” Yeah, sure. I’ll get your cigarettes... can I have one? I quit, but I miss ‘em.” “Help yourself. On the table by the couch ...shut the fuckin door, kay?” “Man, you’re a case!” but he pulled up the door and my bladder emptied with a long slow sigh of relief. “Ah!” I’d barely flushed when he was back, handing me a smoke and lighting it. My shorts were still down! He ran a basin full of hot water and reached up on the shelf for a cloth. “Oh, a pink towel? That’s real pretty!” He laughed, “Don’t tell me, washed it with the red socks, right?” “No, you asshole. It used to be red--it just faded. I do NOT like pink, okay? Give me a break!” “Here, get this off”, he pulled my tee shirt up and stripped it over my head, “Maybe some bleach will take out the ...” “Ouch! Go easy! I ain’t a piece of meat. Though you was gonna tear off my ear!” “What a cry baby! You’ll live.” He kneeled down in front of me, tugged my shorts down over the cast. “Goddamn, these are full of dried cum, too. You shoot off twice a day or what?” “Kiss my ass! You with the sex police or what?” He laughed. “Must have balls the size of oranges!” He pulled at my arms. “Stand up and I’ll close the lid. You can sit back down.” “You’d never make a nurse! Kill all your patience with the way you jerk me around! Easy! I bruise.. Let go my arm!” “You’re a real pain, you know? Stop acting like a sissy! I ain’t gonna break you! Ought to be glad to have anybody touch you, the way you smell!” “I wasn’t ready for a fucking date, man! I been injured!” “You been lazy as hell, that’s what! Be still!” He started at my face, almost rubbed my skin raw with that cloth, but dammit, if I was going to complain, again! He was rough as a line backer. “Your hair is matted up. Think you could lean over the sink? Let me wash it? Need a haircut, too. I got some clippers, I’ll get it when it’s dry.” “Yeah, I guess I can... you gonna scalp me like yours? No thanks! I don’t go for that GI look.” I let him help me up and I grabbed on the sink, leaned over it and he turned on the water. If I bent way down I could get my head part way under the stream. “It’s too hot!” “Yeah, right! I’m gonna sterilize you! Need your head boiled! Bend over!” He bumped into my naked ass and I jumped, tried to move away. “Be still, Gordy! Shit!” Get off my ass, man!” I turned my face sideways to yell at him. He shoved me back under the water “Your ass is safe, I wouldn’t fuck it with your dick! Bend over!” The shampoo felt pretty good. I got used to the hot water, still hotter than I would have used, but it felt nice when it tingled my scalp. His big fingers massaged and scrubbed at my head. It was great. I liked it when he got to my temples, he was gentle. More gentle than I expected. I did wish he’d back off my ass, though. Damn. Funny feeling to have some guy right on my ass.. And me naked? Gee. Got some strange vibes, let me tell you! I was being a woos, I knew it. Kind of wished I’d tried the military back when I was younger. Always felt it made you more of a man, you know? “Hey, Wally? You got a tattoo?” It came out wet and gargled but he understood me. “Yeah. A few. Sailors, you know. It’s kind of required.” He started rinsing off the suds. “I always wanted one, never got around to it. Never got my ear pierced, either. I’m always right behind the curve on fashion stuff. Too slow.” “Like your hair? Man, nobody wears hair this long anymore. It looks like a used car salesman... or a preacher. Let me cut it, okay? You’ll like it short, I swear. Easier to wash, you don’t have to comb it.. Make you look butch as hell, too! Buzzed hair and a tattoo get some sun and tone up your body? You could be hot stuff, Gordy! Get out there and snag you some ass!” “Oh, you gonna clean me up, too? Like you did the kitchen? Make me presentable? Forget it. I’m a lost cause!” I stood up while he toweled my hair. He eased me back to the commode, sat me down and my leg poked out across the room. “You ain’t so bad. Just got this look like you don’t care. I’m thinking you really don’t. Kinda sad. Depression is a bitch, huh? Been there, believe me.” I didn’t like the way the conversation was headed. I shut up and hoped he would, too. He did. Then he pulled me forward and propped my head against his hip, began washing down my back and shoulders. Still felt weird, a guy touching me. Like at the hospital where they gave you that split open gown and expected you to walk around; didn’t even care if your ass was exposed to everybody in the hall or nothing. I guess if I’d grown up with a brother or a dad... but I always lived with a mother and sister. Never got used to my body. Always been shy. Rubbing my back felt really good, relaxed me. I got tired of staring at his basket, closed my eyes. “Mmmm. feels good!” I groaned when he got down to my kidneys. Arched my back, stretched “Guess so. You been laying down so much ... could probably use a massage, a little exercise.” He stroked harder, deeper. Chills ran up my spine. When his hands moved out near my ribs, I pulled back, startled. “Ticklish, sorry. I remember.” He went back to my neck and shoulders. I eased up straight. Glad to get my face away from his zipper. Enough is enough. Wallace knelt down, then and I could watch him as he washed my chest and belly. I got a little nervous when he neared my navel but he handed me the cloth.... “You want to wash your own cock? Or you want me to?” He grinned. “I can manage it, okay? I could do most of this myself... but the back rub was nice. I couldn’t reach that.” I took over and rubbed the cloth all over my groin, spread my legs and got in there deep... lifted my cock and wiped all around it. He was watching with clinical interest... took the cloth and wrung it out under the tap, gave it back to me so I could rinse away the soap film. His gaze was becoming disturbing. I wished he’d turn his back or something, at least look away! Shouldn’t be looking at my cock like that, it’s not right... I rushed it up before I embarrassed myself. I could feel a heat building. This was stupid! “Okay, stand up, lift your arm...”, he soaped up my hand and arm, moved towards my arm pit.. I jerked back. “Let me do it.” I took the cloth. “Man! You’re touchy as hell! Ain’t nobody ever touched you before? Shit!” “Not a man! Hell no. It feels funny! Gives me the shakes! And I’m ticklish..” “Ticklish...”, he said it at the same time, laughed. “Yeah, I know.” I finished up my arms and wiped off my thigh above the cast, then started on my right leg but my balance was off, I swayed and Wally caught me. “Hold onto the sink...”, he took the cloth and squatted down to scrub at my leg. His hand came up between my thighs and brushed my balls. I tried not to flinch. Clamped my jaw with the effort. At least he wouldn’t poke at my groin, tell me to cough. I could handle this. He stood up. “Turn around, face the sink ... “, he helped me with a hand on my waist, then he was scrubbing down my ass and I was rising up on tiptoe to keep from yelling stop! He shoved out my good leg and ran cloth-covered fingers right down in the crack, right over my most private and vulnerable spot! I gasped, made a sound “Okay, okay. Nobody’s raping you! Don’t get excited.” I laughed with relief when he quit. The tension was damn near unbearable. I’d forgot he would rinse! The warm cloth repeated it’s path and my cock twitched, breath caught, blood pressure soared. Holy shit! “You can sit down, now. I gotta work on those black feet. You got Indian blood or what?” My laughter was out of proportion to his joke. I sat and checked to see if I looked turned on. Not hard, just a little full and puffy. I breathed easier. Wasn’t much he could do with my left foot, the cast went under it and covered most of it. He scrubbed the toes and heel. It tickled, but I could stand it. Knowing he couldn’t touch the sensitive arch helped me relax. “God, this stuff is ground in!” He rubbed harder. He had my cast propped up on the tub. He sat down and scrubbed away. Finally let up. My toes quivered from the pressure. He went to the floor between my legs and lifted my right foot to his lap. “Jesus! This is tar! You been out in the street barefooted?” Now the muscle spasms started. Every time he touched the inside arch of my foot I jumped. He didn’t laugh or make a game out of it. He just let me relax and kept at it. Slowly I got past the giggle stage and the tension began to let up. I had to keep my hands over my lap, though. I pulled the towel over it. Even two hands wouldn’t cover that boner! Wally glanced up at the towel. “Tickling your feet does that? I’ve heard of that before. Never knew if it was true or not. Shit. Wish my feet was ticklish. Wonder why it works like that?” “I donno”, my voice was tight, “Just weird, I guess.” “Not weird, man. You’re not the only one. Had a buddy in the navy, he told me the same thing happens to him. I never tickled his feet, though. Never saw it happen. Guess it’s true, huh? Can you get off like that? From somebody tickling your feet?” “Well, fuck! I donno, man! I never did shit like that. You better hurry up or I’ll find out!” I almost squeaked “It’s not just ticking them, it’s touching them.. My feet are sensitive!” “Oh, yeah?” He grinned, squeezed my toes, flexed them down. No cloth, just his bare hands on my toes. I shut my eyes, tried to pull my foot back but he held on, “How’s that feel?” He ran a finger under my arch and I spurted inside the towel...tried to hide the result, but my chest heaved and every muscle in my body shook. I felt the blood rush up to heat my neck and face. I kept my eyes closed. Didn’t want to see him laugh. He didn’t laugh. I peeped. He looked kind of stunned. He let go my foot. “Guess you can, huh? That was pretty awesome, Gordy! Wow. Don’t get all bent, okay?. I got some pajamas we can fit over this cast. I’ll get ‘em.” He left me alone to clean up. I was still shaking when he came back. I tried to smile. “Sorry, Wally. I feel like a fool!” “Why, Gordy? It’s cool. Forget it. Look, I cut off the left leg. I never wear them anyway. Sally bought ‘em, but I like to sleep raw. I hate pajamas. Brought you some socks, too. Keep your feet clean.” He bent down and slipped the pajamas over my feet... tugged them up my legs, “Can you stand up? Steady..” I dropped the towel. Held to his shoulders while he pulled up the pajamas. He paused right before covering up my crotch... stared right at my cock. “Damn! You do have big nuts!” Then he covered me up, handed me the stick of deodorant... “Wait”, he stopped me when I would limp out the door. “You really got to shave!” “Later, man. I can’t stand up no more. My leg’s killing me. gotta lay down...” “Okay, did I wear you out? Come on.” I made it through the bathroom door on my feet, but then Wallace shifted me, picked me up like a baby and carried me to the couch. “You cool? I’ll find you a clean tee shirt?” “I’m okay.” I retreated behind closed eyes. Just couldn’t look in his face. I wanted to sleep. Curled onto my side and faced the back of the couch. He covered me with the afghan... patted my shoulder. I wanted to disappear, to die of shame. All his jokes about my pink tee and the pink towel... maybe more truth than I wanted to admit. Maybe he knows it all, now. He’ll figure it out, anyway. I needed to sleep, to shut down, couldn’t handle this shit. It was dark when I woke up. Wallace was in mom’s rocker, reading a paperback book. The TV was off and a radio played somewhere, nice blues instrumental. Didn’t even look like my living room. The kitchen light was off and it was dark everywhere but the circle of lamp light around Wallace. The chair rocked gently, just a few inches each way. It looked peaceful, homey. “Hi. What ‘cha reading?” I tried to sit up, pulled the afghan up to my chest. He turned the book so I could see the cover, a big old mansion and lots of trees. “E.M. Forster. I like all that English shit. I figure I’d be a butler or something... a stable hand. I always like the downstairs people better than the upstairs. You read?” “Not in a long time. Used to read science fiction stuff when I outgrew the comics. Well, I still like comics, the underground stuff, you know... Crumb and like that.” I yawned. Must have slept a long time... “What time is it, anyway?” He grinned. “Nine thirty. You snore, did you know?” “Yeah. People have mentioned it. I’ve never heard me.” “Not chain saw loud, just a buzzing sound. Kind of get used to it. I noticed right away when you quit, figured you’d be waking up. I’ve got a beef stew, feel like some?” He stood, tossed the book in the chair and came over by me. “Not really hungry. Thirsty--maybe. We got beer?” “Sure. I’ll get you one...” “Wait. Help me up. I got to piss first.” He helped me stand and brushed a palm over my fly, laughed. “No wet dream? We know how to keep your sheets clean, now!” “Don’t start. I’m still trying to forget”, but I didn’t finch, didn’t blush. I actually grinned. Didn’t seem so bad, now. Sure didn’t bother Wallace. “You ready?” He took a grip around my waist. Yeah, lead on!” I held his neck. We did our drunken buddy act. My cast thumped along after us. He flipped on the bathroom light and stood me up “You wanna sit down?” “Let me try standing up. Not much to hide from you now.” He steadied me, kept back. It took a few minutes but I did it. The stream began slow and built to a gusher. You forget the small luxuries. Standing up to pee was like a blessing. I shivered with the last drops, shook it off. Took a deep breath and sighed. “Thanks, Wally, for everything.” He helped me back to the couch and didn’t say a word until I was settled and he started to turn away for the beer... “Uh, thank you, Gordy. For taking me in. I know you didn’t want nobody around;. I needed a place and I’ll do what I can to help you out, okay?” he was serious as hell, “You won’t regret this, I swear.” “I don’t regret it. Glad to have you ... but a beer would sure go down good!” “Right.” He looked back and grinned one time. Hell of a guy. I wished we could go out for a beer, shoot some pool or something. I’d get a kick out of hanging out with him. I’d be proud to have a buddy like him! Maybe when I get on my feet again jackertoo@aol.com
