JD DUNNE
I'm feelin' so guilty.Ya see, my first reaction when Chris told us about Vin being gay was ta snatch my arm back from around Vin's shoulders like I'd been burned. Faggot . . . faggot . . . faggot! Queer . . . queer . . . queer! Gay . . . gay . . . gay! The words ran through my mind in a continuous loop over and over and over again, unconsciously echoing what other people in the saloon were calling out.
When Vin left the saloon, I wanted ta leave right away -- I couldn't stand ta stay there a minute longer -- but first Buck had ta look after Chris and get him outta there. By the time he got back, the carryin' on had died down a bit, but the rest of us were still sitting there in shock, not saying nothin'. Told Buck I had ta leave, and I did. Buck followed me, and we went home.
I jumped out of Buck's truck before he even put it in park and rushed into our apartment. I wanted a beer -- shit, I wanted a gallon of beer -- so I hurried ta the kitchen, flung open the refrigerator, and grabbed one. I slammed the door so hard a box of cereal bounced off the top of the fridge and fell on the floor. I picked it up, threw it against the wall, scattering corn flakes all over, and then just stood there staring at the mess. I was so damned mad! Didn't know just what I was mad at, but I was mad!
"Calm down, JD, just calm down." Buck had followed me to the kitchen. "I know how ya feel. Chris . . ."
"You don't!" I yelled. "You don't have a clue how I feel! I had my arm around him!"
"What? What're ya talkin' about?"
"I had my . . . arm . . . around that . . . that fag . . . that queer!"
For a big man, Buck can sure move fast when he wants ta. The next thing I knew, he'd grabbed my shoulders and was shaking me.
"What . . . the . . . hell . . . did . . . you . . . say?"
I was scared -- scared of Buck for the first time ever, but I was also damned mad. Who the hell did he think he was -- putting his hands on me? He ain't my father, and he ain't my brother -- even if that's the way I feel about him.
I twisted hard, slammed my elbow into his gut, stomped on his foot, and managed to break free. I ran to my bedroom and locked the door before he could catch me again. Buck pounded on the door and said we had to talk, but I told him to go away and leave me alone. I threw myself on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Buck came back a coupla times, but I ignored him, and finally, he gave up.
I tried ta think, but I wasn't really capable of coherent thought. Fag . . . queer . . . Vin . . . gay . . . fag . . . Vin . . . gay . . . queer . . . The words were still running through my head, and I was so mad -- I couldn't seem ta form the sentence Vin is gay and have it make sense. I tried watching TV, reading', playing games on the computer -- have no idea what shows were on, the words all ran tagether on the page, and I lost ev'ry game I played. Eventually, I got ready for bed and tried ta sleep.
Ev'rything came back ta me Saturday mornin' when I had ta unlock my door ta get ta the bathroom. I never needed ta lock it before, and it reminded me . . . of Chris and Vin in the saloon . . . of the mess I made in the kitchen . . . of Buck getting mad and shaking me . . . reminded me of things I'd rather forget.
Buck was in the kitchen when I got there, but I didn't go back ta my room even though I wanted ta. Hadn't had anything ta eat since the burger at the saloon, so I was hungry. He'd cleaned up the cereal I'd spilled the night before, and that just added ta my anger. I mean, it was my mess, so I should be the one ta clean it up. Just 'cause I couldn't do it last night didn't mean I wasn't gonna. Okay, I know that's irrational, but I wasn't thinking too clearly right then -- I was just mad.
Oh yeah, I was fuckin' mad. Mad at Vin -- how could he be gay and keep it a secret all this time? Mad at Chris -- how could he betray Vin like that in front of all those people? Mad at Buck -- how could he treat me like he'd done? Mad at Josiah, Nathan, and Ezra -- how could they just sit there and not do nothin'? Mad at ev'rything -- how could this have happened? And I suppose I was mad at myself, too, 'cause I was so confused.
How come Vin didn't trust us . . . me? How come I reacted like I did? How come I hadn't done nothin'? My head was all abuzz with questions and no answers, and that just added ta my bein' mad. Like I said, I wasn't bein' too rational.
So there I was in the kitchen with Buck. I got some juice and some coffee, grabbed a box of cereal and the milk, and went ta sit at the table. Buck had just started cooking scrambled eggs, and they sure smelled good. He asked if I wanted some -- said he could toss in another coupla eggs, no problem, and could make me some toast, too. He even offered ta fry some bacon if I wanted it.
Ya heard the phrase 'cut off your nose ta spite your face' -- well, that was me. Yup, I said no, said I didn't want nothin' he was cooking'. Buck gave this kinda exaggerated sigh, shook his head, and went back ta fixing his breakfast. Course that just made me madder, and I was really steamin' as I sat there eating that cold cereal. He brought his plate ta the table and started ta eat. Talk about dumb -- I was bein' a grade-A jerk.
"I'm sorry 'bout last night, JD," he said. "Don't know what . . ."
"Yeah, sure, forget about it," I muttered, not in the mood ta listen ta his apology.
He didn't let it go, though. A minute later, he started in again.
"Look, kid, we gotta talk."
That did it. "Don't call me kid!" I yelled and jumped up from the table. I grabbed my coffee and headed back ta my room. He called my name, but I ignored him, slammed the bedroom door, and locked it again. I know, I know -- I was acting like a spoiled brat having a tantrum, but I couldn't help myself. I mean, how could I sit there and talk ta Buck 'bout what I was feelin' when I didn't know what I was feelin'?
I laid on the bed staring at the ceiling until I heard Buck leave. Went back ta the kitchen for more coffee, and there was a note on the table. He said he was running some errands, doing his laundry, and didn't know when he'd be back -- said he had his phone with him in case I needed him. I watched some cartoons -- figured I needed a good laugh -- but nothin' seemed funny, not even my favorite coyote chasing that roadrunner. I changed my bed, did the laundry, took the garbage out ta the dumpster, picked up the mail, balanced my checkbook, which I'd been putting off. I was trying not ta think, but it wasn't working -- my mind was just chock-full of all these jumbled thoughts and images.
I knew I couldn't go out ta Chris's ranch on Sunday, so I called and left a message on his machine. I didn't wanta lie -- I don't like lying ta friends -- and luckily, I didn't hafta. I told Chris that Casey had called and wanted ta go ta this new store that was having its grand opening on Sunday. That's the truth -- she did call ta say she wanted ta go, but she said she was goin' with Nettie.
Buck wasn't back for lunch, and I didn't feel like eating anything. It was my turn ta clean the apartment, so I vacuumed, dusted, threw the old newspapers in the recycling bin, did a buncha other things. By the time I got done, it was time ta start thinking about dinner. I wasn't in the mood ta cook, so I ordered a pizza. Got enough for Buck, too, in case he hadn't eaten already.
The pizza came, and I was in the kitchen getting a soda when I heard the front door open. Buck was back, and he'd picked up some ribs for us. We sat at the kitchen table sharing the pizza and ribs but not talking. It wasn't a very comfortable meal -- kinda lost my appetite once the food was in front of me -- so I didn't eat much, and when I was through, I went back ta my room -- didn't hafta lock my door this time though.
It was a real quiet night. I heard Buck on the phone and figured out he was calling Vin. Knew I should prob'ly do that myself, but I didn't have a clue what ta say ta him. I mean, the last thing I wanted ta do was end up yelling questions at him over the phone -- questions were all I had just then -- and if I got his machine, well, that'd be even worse, and I'd prob'ly just hang up.
Went out ta the living room for the sports section and ignored Buck who was sitting there channel-surfing. The look in his eyes said he hoped I was ready ta talk, but I just turned around and walked out. Was beginning ta wonder if I'd ever get things sorted out -- would ever get back ta feelin' normal again.
I read for awhile -- article said the Yankees were likely a shoo-in for the World Series -- again, and another was about the next Olympics -- asking if all the construction work would get done in time. So what else is new? I thought about going out ta see Casey, but I knew I'd be lousy company. Besides, I knew she had this book she had ta read, and I didn't wanta interrupt. So I sent her an e-mail and played a coupla games.
I started to watch "The Terminator" on DVD on my computer, but I had ta stop. Ya see, it's one of Vin's favorite movies, and I kept hearing the smart-ass comments he always makes while watching it. Last time I seen it was out at Chris's ranch. Me and Buck, Josiah, and Vin were there for a cookout and ta watch a baseball game. Well, the game was rained out and wasn't nothin' else on we wanted ta watch, so Chris popped in the tape. It was kinda our fallback for situations like that. Chris'd bought the video after we discovered how much Vin liked it and how he'd had us practically rolling on the floor laughing at his running commentary the first time we all watched it tagether. So watching the movie became sorta like a group tradition 'cept we paid more attention ta Vin than we did ta the movie 'cause he rarely repeated himself. It kinda felt wrong ta be watching it without Vin, and I wondered if I'd ever hear him making those hilarious comment again. That's when I decided I might as well get ready for bed.
Sunday was kinda gloomy, and I thought it'd prob'ly rain before the day was over. I hadn't heard anything, but Buck was already up and in the kitchen starting breakfast. We both must've slept later than usual for us 'cause it was closer ta bein' lunch than it was breakfast. The griddle was heating up for pancakes, and sausages were frying.
The Sunday paper was lying on the table, so I sat down and started reading. Buck poured juice and coffee, and then he put the food on the table. I ate and drank, all the while not saying nothin'. Looking back, I'm amazed at Buck's patience -- I mean, I'd been giving him the silent treatment for over twenty-four hours -- but it was about ta run out.
He picked up the dirty dishes, put them in the sink, and poured us fresh coffee. I could feel him watching me while he drank, but I was hidden behind the paper the whole time. Finally, he stood up, and I thought he was gonna leave, but he grabbed the paper and threw it on the floor.
"Actin' like some ignorant teenager," he muttered under his breath.
I remember glaring at him and getting ready ta jump up and yell at him . . . but I didn't. Ya see, I knew I'd been doin' a lotta trash-talking -- both out loud ta Buck and in my own head ta myself. Buck was right -- I had been acting like an ignorant teenager, and it was time ta stop. I thought he was gonna yell at me, but he talked real quiet -- well, real quiet for him. He said he was going out, and I needed ta do some serious thinking while he was gone.
"JD," he said, "ya gotta figger out why yer so mad at Vin. Are ya mad 'cause he's gay, or are ya mad he ain't in love with you? Are ya mad 'cause he made a pass at ya, or 'cause he didn't?
That really got ta me! "Ya sayin' I'm a faggot?" I yelled, jumping up, ready ta take a swing at him. "'Cause I ain't!"
"Calm down, kid. Ain't accusin' ya of nothin'. Just want ya ta think about why yer so upset."
"Of course, Vin never made no pass at me, and he never would! He ain't in love with me," I said, feeling a little calmer. I knew what I said was the truth, no matter what Chris was saying the other night. I mean, he was trying ta make Vin sound like some kinda sexual predator or something'.
I sat back down, and Buck went ta get his keys. He was back a minute later, and this time he said I had ta figger out why I was mad a Vin, and I had ta answer the only question that mattered as far as he was concerned -- who did I want as the team's sharpshooter -- Vin, who's gay, or some other guy who prob'ly ain't as good and might have some secrets of his own he was hiding. He told me ta think about that, and then he left.
Turns out Buck went ta see Chris at the ranch. I wonder if they got in a fight . . . if Buck hit him or anything. They been friends for a long time, but Buck is really mad at Chris -- that's easy enough ta see. He ain't really said much about their meeting', but I don't imagine Chris had much chance ta say anything 'cause Buck said he really gave him a piece of his mind, though.
Anyways, I sat at the table for a little while after Buck left, and then I got up ta do the dishes. I cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom -- didn't take long, and the apartment was ready for another week. I was thinking about Buck's questions the whole time, and when I finished, I knew exactly what I had ta do. I went in the living room, picked up the phone, and called Tally.
Tally is Talbot Smythe, III, and he was my roommate my last two years in college. He's English and lives near a little village in the Cotswolds called Lower Slaughter -- weird name, but I've seen pictures, and it's a beautiful area. He's really rich and lives in what he calls a manor house -- has a butler and ev'rything.
I was goin' ta UMass and living at home ta save money the first two years. Besides, I hated ta leave Ma all alone -- there was always stuff that needed doin' around the house. Summer before my junior year, though, Ma told me I should live on campus -- said I was young and didn't seem ta be having much fun, what with studying and working and helping her. Said I was missing out on a lot of stuff. I tried ta argue with her, but she could be one stubborn woman. She told me she'd been saving money, and she figured between that and what I'd been earning, I could swing the room and board in the dorm. Had it all figured out -- I wouldn't be all that far away if she really needed me, and I could always come home on weekends.
Ma got her way, of course, and I applied for a room. It was real late ta be doing that, so I wondered what kinda roommate I'd be getting. What I got was Tally. I walked inta the room the first day, and he was sitting at the desk reading a book. There was all this Louis Vuitton luggage, a steamer trunk, and a pair of skis piled in the middle of the room, none of it unpacked.
When I came in with some of my stuff, he laid his book down, stood up, and said, "I'm Talbot Smythe, but my friends call me Tally. I'm gay."
"Well, I'm John Dunne. My friends call me JD, and I'm not," I replied and stuck out my hand.
He looked at my hand, looked at me, shook my hand, and smiled. Man, that smile just about lit up the whole room! Come ta think of it, Vin has a smile like that -- it's rare, but it sure is beautiful. Guess it's gonna be a lot rarer now, though. Tally said he wanted me ta know he was gay right from the start in case I was gonna have a problem with it. He was kinda defiant, but I could see he was kinda scared, too, if ya know what I mean. I remember asking if he was gonna make a pass at me, and Tally just laughed and said I'd hafta make the first move. So we decided ta give it a month's trial and see if bein' roommates worked out. And it did work out -- me and Tally had a damned good time those two years, and we're still good friends.
I decided ta go home the next weekend and see how Ma was doing after her first week alone in years. I caught this kinda wistful look on Tally's face when I talked about goin' home, and next thing I knew, I was asking if he wanted ta go with me, and he accepted my invitation.
Well, then I got ta worrying. I mean, Ma and me didn't live in a shack or nothin', but it wasn't fancy neither -- nothin' like Tally was used ta. Come Friday, after my last class, I went back ta the dorm ta meet Tally and get my stuff. Tally said he'd drive, so we went down ta the parking lot, and Tally walked up ta this gorgeous blue Mercedes. He'd bought it just ta use while he was in school -- like I said, he's really rich and used ta the best of ev'rything.
So we get ta my house and pull inta the driveway. Ma came out ta meet us, and while I was hugging her, Tally was getting something outta the back of the car. He came up and handed Ma this big bouquet and a fancy-wrapped box of candy. I started ta get kinda mad, thinking he was throwing his money around, until I looked at Ma. She was smelling the flowers, and there were tears in her eyes. I realized no one'd gotten her flowers since my Dad died, and she was really touched by Tally's thoughtfulness. Ya know, after that, I made sure she got flowers ev'ry coupla weeks for the rest of her life -- it took so little ta make her happy.
Tally slept on the sofa in the living room, and when I came downstairs Saturday mornin', he and Ma were sitting there laughing. Ma'd dragged out the photo albums, and they were happily working their way through my baby pictures and stuff -- jeez, talk about bein' embarrassed.
We had a great time that weekend -- the first of many -- and I learned a lot about Tally. His mother died when he was eight, and he was shipped off ta boarding school. He never really saw much of his father after that. He went home for school breaks, but his father wasn't always there. I know there were some Christmases when he got stuck staying at school. I saw Ma's face when he said that, and I just knew she'd be inviting him ta spend the holiday with us.
She did, he did, and we had one of the best Christmases ever. We were still roommates, ya see, 'cause we got ta the end of our month's trial, and neither of us said nothin' about making a change. By then, we were good friends, and I couldn't imagine having another roommate. Ma really liked Tally, and the feeling was mutual. When Ma got sick so sudden, he flew ta Boston and stayed until she died -- don't think I could have gotten through that without him. Like I said, he's been a real good friend.
Buck's met Tally. It was last February, and Tally'd rented a condo in Aspen for the whole month ta go skiing. He was the one who taught me how ta ski. In fact, skiing was the main reason why he ended up goin' ta UMass. His father was killed in a car accident around the time Tally was deciding about college, and he said he didn't hafta go ta a stuffy school like Oxford or Cambridge. So he decided ta indulge his passion and go someplace where he could ski most weekends in the winter. He thought Boston was very English in character, and there were lots of ski resorts a few hours' drive away -- I mean, Stowe and Killington in Vermont, Gore Mountain up in the Adirondacks -- and there was a major airport if he wanted ta go farther away.
Like I said, he was in Aspen, and he invited me and Buck ta stay with him for the long Presidents' Day weekend. God, we had fun! And not just skiing -- like me, Tally loves practical jokes, and Buck was the perfect target. Oh yeah, we had a lotta fun!
So yesterday, I just knew Tally could help me. Luckily, he was home, and it was such a relief ta hear his voice, but I didn't know how ta tell him about my problem. So we started talking about a buncha shit. The weather -- it was raining in England. Tally's having central air conditioning installed -- said they'd had some really hot summers lately, and he'd gotten spoiled in the States. We had a laugh talking about Aspen and all the jokes we'd played on Buck. I was in the middle of telling him about a recent operation Team 7'd been on when he interrupted me.
"Bloody hell, JD! What's wrong? You didn't call me to talk about trivial shit -- could have sent an e-mail for that. What is going on?"
That's all I needed ta hear, and the dam broke. Told Tally I was so confused I didn't know whether I was comin' or goin'. It all came spilling out -- what happened at the saloon, what happened with Buck, what I'd been thinking, what Buck had said -- everything. And then I waited, 'cause I knew, if anyone could sort things out and help me understand them, it was Tally, and he didn't let me down.
"Guess you don't like this Vin very much," was the first thing he said.
"Hell, no!" I almost yelled. "Vin's a good friend, and I trust him with my life." I do -- I really do. Bein' an ATF agent is dangerous work, but having Vin watching my back makes it a helluva lot safer. I mean, I've only been undercover a few times -- not like Ezra who's always doin' it -- but I did a lot less worrying knowing Vin was nearby backing me up, and I told Tally all of this.
He said that was good ta know, and then he asked if I had pen and paper handy. When I had them ready, he told me ta take a couple of minutes and list everything I'd say if I was describing Vin to a total stranger, and I started writing -- honest, loyal, a great shot, a good friend, stubborn, and about a dozen other things, ending with blue eyes and long hair. Tally asked me ta read the list to him, and I did.
"You left something out, didn't you?" he asked when I was finished.
"Noooo, . . . I don't think so," I said looking at the list.
"Where does it say gay?"
Shit! I hadn't even thought of adding that, and I told Tally.
"Of course you didn't, JD," he said, and I could almost hear him smiling. "I know you, old chap, and there's not a bleedin' homophobic bone in your body. You don't label people that way."
"Then why'd I call Vin a fag and a queer?" I practically wailed.
"JD, you were gobsmacked -- your normally sane world was suddenly all topsy-turvy, gone all pear-shaped. You said other people in the saloon were using those words, and I think you just got caught up in the mob atmosphere."
That made sense ta me. Ya know, I hadn't even used those words back in high school, so it was good ta think I hadn't changed -- that something outside had influenced me -- but I still didn't know why I was so mad at Vin, so I asked Tally about that.
"Let's come back to that," he said. "For now, add gay to that list you made. Now tell me, does anything on your list change because the person you've described is gay?"
Of course not -- ev'rything on that list was true before Friday, and it's still true. Vin's still Vin, as far as I'm concerned, even if he is gay. Tally then asked me what I thought Vin would drop from my list if he had the chance -- what characteristic he would drop from his life -- and I told him I thought it would be his dyslexia. Tally disagreed -- thought it would be bein' gay.
"Why?" I asked. "Why not bein' dyslexic? I mean, Chris gets real impatient sometimes when Vin's reports have all these misspellings and stuff, and it really slows down his reading, too."
Tally said he couldn't actually be sure, but given the list I'd written and his own personal experience, it's what he'd pick. He said there are techniques ta help ya overcome dyslexia, but what do ya do about bein' gay? Ya either embrace it, or ya deny it -- deny your very nature. If ya accept that you're gay, ya either find a male lover or ya don't. If ya don't, you're denying yourself love and happiness. And, he said, it often hurts bein' gay. He told me about his aunt who hadn't spoken to him in years 'cause he's gay, and he reminded me about what happened ta him in college before we were roommates.
"Don't you think I'd be straight if I could, JD?" he asked, and I could hear his pain. That surprised me 'cause I'd always thought he was comfortable with what he was. I mean, he has a partner, Geoffrey, who he loves dearly, and I thought they were very happy. "I know I'll marry someday -- after all, I have a family heritage to uphold -- but whoever she is, my wife will know the score. She'll be from a proper family, be a good hostess, and give me a child. I'll do everything I can to make her happy -- to give her a good life -- but I know I won't love her or be satisfied myself. I will try to be faithful, though, because I'll owe her that much at least." There was bitterness in his voice, and for the first time, I really understood that all was not perfect in Tally's world, as I had once thought.
"Sorry, JD, I didn't mean to burden you with my problems. You're the one looking for answers, and I believe I do know why you're so angry."
I think I was holding my breath while I waited for him ta explain.
"You said you trust Vin with your life," he began, "and I imagine you thought he felt the same way. But now you suddenly believe he didn't because he's been keeping a very big secret. He trusted you with knowing about his dyslexia but not his being gay. Is that it?" he asked. "Are you angry because Vin didn't trust you enough to tell you he's gay?"
As soon as Tally said the words, I knew -- that was exactly why I was so mad! All of us have shared ev'rything about our lives -- maybe not all the details -- but ev'rything that's important. All of us, that is, except Vin. I was feeling cheated, feeling like Vin had lied -- lied by omission. I thanked Tally for making me see the light and asked what I should do about all of it.
"Do some more thinking -- get everything sorted out in your head -- and talk to Buck -- he's a good man. You have to find some way to let Vin know you're on his side -- it must be devastating getting outed the way he did, by the person who did it, and if that Chris doesn't like it, well, you just tell him to sod off and then go get right royally pissed!"
I had ta smile -- a typical Tally response. He asked if I wanted him ta come over -- just like he was across town instead of bein' across an ocean -- but that's Tally, too, putting his own life on hold ta help a friend in need. Told him I appreciated the offer, but I thought I could cope. We talked a little while longer, and then I said goodbye. I was feeling a lot better -- knew Tally wouldn't let me down.
I was playing a video game when Buck finally got home. He apologized for shaking me, and I apologized for acting . . . well, for acting like an ignorant teenager like he said. Buck said I'd surprised him, saying what I did, and I told him I'd surprised myself.
I told Buck ev'rything that me and Tally'd talked about -- well, almost ev'rything. Didn't tell him what Tally said about getting married someday 'cause I know how Buck feels about women. He's a ladies' man through and through, but he truly respects and reveres women -- all women. He learned that from his mother, and he never forgets. He'd think that Tally's future wife would be exploited. She will be, of course, but there's plenty of women out there who'd jump at the chance -- good-looking husband, money, fantastic cars, houses, you name it.
I wonder if Tally will really be able ta go through with it when the time comes. He's a decent man, ya know, and I'm not sure he can be that cold-blooded. He said he'd try ta be faithful, so he'll hafta give up Geoffrey or whoever his partner might be at the time. Will he be able ta deny himself love and happiness that way? Somehow I don't think so.
Finally I got around ta asking Buck the big question. "Why couldn't he trust me, Buck? Why?" He reminded me that Vin hadn't told any of us on the team and that it wasn't really a matter of trust. Basically, he said Vin couldn't know how we'd all take the news, and we didn't know 'cause we hadn't talked ta any of them over the weekend. He said Vin would've worried about one of us accidentally letting something slip. He also pointed out that Tally and Vin were very different. Tally didn't hafta worry about people finding out he was gay 'cause he has money and doesn't hafta worry about losing a job or what his co-workers might think. Vin can't take that chance.
I was finally beginning ta understand -- finally beginning ta see the light. "So how're we gonna make things up ta Vin? How're we gonna make it better?" I asked Buck. But I didn't particularly like the answer I got. I mean, Buck was supposed ta have all the answers, was supposed ta tell me what ta do, and there he was, telling me there wasn't nothin' we could do about Chris and Vin, nothin' we could do about the rest of the team -- nothin' we could do about nothin' -- not till we knew what Vin was gonna do. And maybe Vin was gone already. Buck said he sounded real bad when he talked ta him on the phone.
"Do ya think Chris knows what he started, Buck?" I asked. "Seems like he's only been thinking about himself. Can't be thinking about any of us -- about his team -- or he wouldn't have done what he did, wouldn't have announced it ta the saloon like he did."
He told me I was pretty wise -- sure didn't feel all that wise -- and he also told me about visiting Chris. Buck saw the pad with the list Tally had me write and asked me about it, and I explained what it was all about. He said he was glad I'd been able ta talk ta Tally and teased me about the size of our phone bill. That's when I knew ev'rything was all right between us -- at least me and Buck were okay.
Buck suggested goin' out ta an early movie, and we both ate a buncha junk food. Then we came home, demolished the leftover ribs and pizza, and watched television. We didn't talk about Chris or Vin -- guess we both needed a break from that. In fact, we didn't mention their names until this mornin' when we were in Buck's truck coming in ta work.
Josiah, Nate, and Ez came in early just like we did, and we all had a chance ta talk. Can ya imagine how happy I was ta find out they were all mad at Chris and wanted ta help Vin? Providing, of course, that Vin came back ta work. Chris came in and said "Good Morning," but none of us responded, just glared at him and turned our backs. That felt real good!
Vin came in just before nine -- real late for him, and he didn't say nothin' ta us, just nodded and sat down at his desk. Didn't expect more than that, but it still hurt. I started ta walk over ta him, but Buck stopped me. Guess he was right, but I really want Vin ta know how I feel. Chris was peeking through the blinds, watching what was goin' on in the bullpen. He was doing that a lot, waiting for Vin ta show up. Fact is, he's doing it right now. He thinks he's bein' so careful, but I can see from the way my desk is positioned, and I can tell from the way he's standing that he's staring at Vin -- staring at the friend he destroyed.
We all went ta the conference room for the weekly briefing, and it was a really quiet session. None of us had much ta say -- just listened ta Chris and got our assignments. Vin didn't say nothin' at all or even look at us -- just stared down at the table and took some notes. At least, that was true until the end of the meeting when he looked at Chris, and all of us got our first good look at his face.
I was reminded of my conversation with Tally and some things he'd said that I'd forgotten ta tell Buck.
"Your friend Vin is lucky this Chris didn't shoot him," Tally had said.
"Nah, Chris is only jokin' when he says that," I replied, thinking about Chris's habit of threatening ta shoot one or the other of us when he's particularly frustrated.
"I beg your pardon?" Tally was clearly confused.
"When one of us really annoys Chris -- really gets on his nerves, ya know -- he says 'Don't make me hafta shoot ya,' but he's only jokin'. Really, Tally, he'd never do it," I explained.
"That's all well and good, JD, but that's not what I meant. I was thinking about what happened some years ago with one of your American talk shows. I seem to recall some hapless young man who was lured to the program on the pretext that someone in his hometown was secretly in love with him, and when he got there, he was absolutely mortified to discover his secret admirer was a man. A few days later, back home, he got a gun and shot and killed the man who loved him."
"Hey, I remember hearin' about that -- the Jenny Jones show. They never actually showed that episode . . . Chris would never do nothin' like that," I declared.
No, Chris didn't hafta pull out his gun and shoot Vin ta kill him, did he? He found a way ta accomplish that using words. It was easy for me ta figure that out at the end of the briefing. All it took was that one look at Vin's face . . . at his eyes . . .
His eyes are dead, ya see -- Vin Tanner has left the building. I don't mean he's acting like a zombie or nothin' like that -- you know, like ya see on TV stumblin' and staggerin' around. He's rational and knows what he's doin' -- he took notes at the briefing', and earlier I saw him reading his e-mail. I don't know how ta explain it -- it's just the spark that makes Vin Vin is missing', if ya know what I mean.
Last week, if I had an idea for a practical joke to play on Buck, I'd've gone ta Vin and he'd have helped me and given me all kinds of new ways ta make it even better. Today, I could stand next ta him explaining away, and halfway through, he'd look at me and ask me what I wanted. He'd be so focused on what he was doin' he wouldn't even know I was there, and that's not like Vin -- no way, no how. Ain't a good sign. I mean, I could probably call his name right now, and I ain't sure he'd even recognize it as his.
I wish there was some alien time machine that could take us all back ta Friday ta prevent what happened and bring Vin back ta us, but there isn't. I don't know how ta handle this -- ain't never experienced nothin' like this before -- and I wish I didn't hafta handle it now. I wish it could all just go away. Oh, I know it won't, but that doesn't stop me from wishing it.
So here I sit -- guilty, helpless, and uncertain of what the future holds. I hate these feelings, hate not feeling in control of my own life, but I don't know what I can do ta change things, and that is the worst feeling of all.