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Meeting Mr Driscoll
by Omofineboy
I was engaged to be married when I was thirty five to my high school sweetheart, Mary. We went to college together and planned our future. She was the love of my life. She was pretty in an unconventional way and very kind, considerate, generous and homely. I always loved to be with her. A few weeks before our wedding, she traveled to India to see her bring back her only sister who was bedeviled by the malaise of cancer. Her sister died before she could be brought back and Mary met a British doctor, fell in love and wrote me a Dear John letter. Like the cliché it was, my name is John.
It seemed a bad dream but little by little, I picked up the pieces and moved on. Aluta Continua- the struggle goes on. But I swore never to fall in love again. So, I got a job in Lockhart County’s only High School. I loved the ambiance and the aesthetic serenity of the small town. Lately, with the construction of a the Fairview Housing Estate, the town was set for expansion, thanks to the Trumpish Governor of the Republican State.
Whenever I found the time off my busy schedule, I went on a date but broke the relationship when it started building up steam. Small town girls always hankered after marriages and this dude here aint ready yet.
Moses was one of my students: a multi-racial, strapping but gangling, teenager who showed such flair for learning that I wished I had an enthusiastic son like that. I encouraged him in every way I could. His father was white and his mother was black. As a minority, it wasn’t easy to blend in the mostly white population but his intelligence brought respect from his class mates.
One day, I saw Moses looking dejectedly forlorn. He seemed to be bereft of friends and my heart went to him. I called him and asked what was wrong. Trying not to sob in my presence he revealed that his mother had left his father and they were about divorcing. I offered some encouraging words and quoted some biblical passages to encourage him. He seemed better when he left. Days later, I met Moses and his father at the grocery store. Moses introduced us gleefully. “Oh, you are the Mr. John we have been hearing about. It seems Lil’Moses hero worships you,” the father shook my hand warmly. “Dad, I want to go and play some games,” Moses declared. “No, Moses, remember what we learned about gentlemen asking permissions in class,” I reprimanded gently. “Oh,” the boy grinned ruefully.”Dad, may I go and play some games?” “Yes, you may.” The father slapped him a fiver. “Thanks dad, ” he bumped his father’s balled hand. We watched him sauntering off. “He is a good kid, Mr. Driscoll,” I said politely. “Yeah he sure is. I am proud of him,” he said proudly.”But please call me Eric.” I smiled.
The guy was truly a guy’s guy, truth be told. Tall, muscular, easy going and friendly. He appeared to be outdoorsy looking at his bulging chest. His blue tee- shirt matched his blue yes. His brows were thick and his mouth seemed to be full of mirth. “Do you care for a drink? I can do with a bottle of beer. I have a pack of Budweiser in the house. We could catch the Knicks’ game.”
I accepted wholeheartedly. I could do with an adult company after molding the minds of some hormonal teenagers. We sat and watched the game, drinking and bantering like old friends trying to reconnect after being away from one another.
I was careful not to broach his marital issue. I never poked my nose in other people’s private affairs but if invited to opine, I usually give what I feel is best. “So, how is Moses doing at school? I do see his reports and I am thankful that the school authority never calls me on any complaint. “He is a great kid. You guys have done a great job raising him. He is on top of his class. His face brimmed with pride. Then, a dark cloud passed over his face. “I know I don’t know you very well but as Moses’ teacher, I guess I owe it to you to tell you that my wife and I are estranged.”
I took a swig of my beer. I refrained from commenting. “We had a sort of an open marriage. Our son had no inkling of this arrangement. We invite our close friends whenever he spends the weekends with his maternal uncle or whenever he goes for sleepovers. At this point I didn’t not know how to make a rejoinder. So, I listened intently, nodded my head as he spoke with a solemn voice. He continued: “Sometimes we play both teams.” “Both teams?”I asked, mystified. He smiled and winked at me. His smile was infectious. I warmed towards him. “Some of the couples we hung out with are bisexual. So, we too became adventurous and had fun. In fact this openness seemed to be of a stabilizing factor in our marriage. We had a pack never to fall for any one of the same sex. But there is this couple, Harry and Sally, who are great friends of ours. Harry and I started hanging out with Harry – going to the gym, watching football and sharing drinks now and then. One day, we were in our house skinny dipping and got carried away. My wife came unexpectedly and caught us in flagrante delicto.” “In what?” I asked curiously. “Caught in the act,” he explained and took a swig of his beer. “Oh,” I said shortly. “Harry was giving me a blow job when she entered. Thankfully it wasn’t Moses that caught us. I wouldn’t know what would have happened if I would have to face Moses. Lisa, my wife, was apoplectic with rage, to say the least.” “That was quite awkward, I imagine,” I offered lamely. “I am still hoping that we could still work things out. I still love her and I know she loves me,” he said quietly. “That’s a good attitude. I like that. For your sake and especially Moses’, a stable home is the panacea to his foundation. And you know how impressionable these kids are,” I offered. I wasn’t too comfortable but I had to say the right words.. “You are a very good listener and a conversationalist. I wish I had met you earlier".I blushed and lowered my gaze. I was beginning to have some strings under his scrutiny."Now, tell me a bit about yourself" he said.
I spoke nostalgically about my youth with the intention of leaving out my love life but his kind blue eyes melted my resolve and I launched into my life history leaving nothing for the vault.
My eyes misted and before I could say Jack, he closed the gap between us, wrapped his arms around me and gave me the most sensual kiss of my life. I closed my eyes and melted in his embrace. This was my first same-sex kiss. I thought I would find it revolting. But I responded hungrily and our taut bodies meshed into one. I returned the kiss hungrily. The strangeness added spice to the sweetness and my loins suddenly became hot. His kiss deepened and it felt as if he was sucking the life out of me. I was pliant and receptive. Suddenly, we heard Moses speaking on the phone. We disengaged and arranged ourselves and pretended to concentrate on the television set as the boy entered. He was pleased to see me.
Later on, after a light lunch, I took my leave having promised the duo that I would call again soon.
On my way home, I gave a deep thought about that kiss. Clearly we were both aroused and if we weren’t interrupted, another tale would have been spun. I can’t wait to meet him again, I thought.
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