A perspective of internal thinking about a situation…

Oh hell, who are we kidding, it’s a love story as told by one man learning to love again but in a different way. We are all fluid, just looking for love and a connection…

Southernism Being Reclaimed By Nature

Amongst the skeeters and poison ivy, the humidity and the heat, lies the hearts of southern men and women. What was once piss and vinegar, feisty and brazen, now seems to have been tamed by time. The ticking of the clock is not quite as fast as it once was. When I was young, I could not wait till I found love and no matter how many times I tried, it just never felt right. Like dancing a waltz in four four time. Now my youth was a little behind me and the stirring was not as it used to be. I had found “like”, but “love” seemed to still dangle in the distance like a carrot on a string hung from a stick for this mule headed person of a man I had become.

That is until today when I just happened to turn the corner of aisle seven in the Piggley Wiggley and run right into Jeb.

I stood there, a little embarrassed by the fact I had run a man down, but more embarrassed that I was still standing there looking at him like he was… like he was, well, I did not know why I was still looking at him. I only realized I was smiling a little when he smiled back and asked if I was alright. My forehead developed a slight case of perspiration and my heart beat a little faster. I thought maybe I was getting the flu, but my mind said no you fool, look again. I tried to attempt to speak, but decided to just look…and smile…and perspire…

Now Jeb, it seemed, had just relocated down from Yankeeville as I later kidded him. He had moved after his business partner had decided to retire and sell the beachside store in the Carolina’s. Jeb had decided to return back to the sultriness of the south and the Bay Area seemed to fit the bill.

I would also learn later, that Jeb was the kind of man that everyone wanted to be their friend. He was loyal, kind, always quick with a joke and could fill a room with laughter. As long as Katherine, his wife, was beside him, his life was magical. But five years ago, Katherine was taken from his side in an accidental drowning just off the shore from where Beach Treasures sat along the seafront boardwalk of shops and eateries. Jeb had grieved in his own special way of putting on a great front of “it’s all good,” while he felt a little piece of him had died along with her. Inside, he was a wreak, outside, he was just Jeb. For years he continued to stare out on the waters as he worked in the shop…was he still looking for her to return, or was he longing for the hurt to stop so his life could continue? When his business partner decided it was time to sell the shop, Jeb saw it as a time to start anew.

To leave the sea, never, but a relocation to a different sea, well, that was a possibility. When he had heard of the little town by the bay had a shop owner that was trying to retire and pass on the tradition of Treasures By The Bay, it seemed as if fate was telling him here was his new chapter of life. But he didn’t realize just how different his life was about to change. At least not until he turned the corner at the Piggly Wiggly while shopping, and life, had suddenly taken a different sort of turn.

I could not get Jeb out of my mind. My Piggly Wiggly shopping spree had been on replay ever since our run in. So I decided to see if I had the same reaction the next time I ran into Jeb.

A week had passed and our logistics did not seem to line up, so I decided I needed to stop by Treasures By The Bay with hopes of a Jeb sighting. My best shirt, jeans, flip flops and I, stood outside the store for a few minutes accessing the situation, trying to come up with a plan that didn’t scream of desparation. Finally, I opened the door and heard a voice coming from the stockroom. “Finally decided to come in, huh?” And there he was. Jeb, walking around the corner, arms loaded with Amazon boxes probably of merchandise for the store. His mouth, half smiled with an impish grin and his eyes…god his eyes… the most beautiful color of green I never thought existed in the color spectrum. I could not think of a damn thing to say.

“Come on in, we might need to talk” he said as he closed the door with his foot. It was all I could do to just follow him inside, much less to speak. “I’m guessing you’re having the same kind of week that I’ve been having, the hope of running into you again but not really knowing why I wished it would happen”.

I managed a little laugh. Here were two grown men, feeling some sort of a new connection. Neither knowing what it was or why it was, but just knew it was nice. Nice with a side of a homey feeling. Nice and homey and great.

I followed him to the counter, not saying a word, which seemed to scare me a little. Was he not on the same wavelength as myself? Had I “dared to dream” that this man was a sign that my life was about to not be as lonely as before the pig incident? He turned and saw the look on my face, not seeming to understand what was going on or what it really meant. “So, tell me why you’re here”. I looked up and quietly said “I honestly do not know except I had to see you”.

OK, so maybe there was some sort of a connection that I was inclined to like after all. Our eyes connected and we just looked into each others soul for a minute, getting a read and exchanging pain of the past with a side order of hope…hope for a future?

I had always been the quiet one, Ben the quiet one, Ben needs to take a more active part in class, my first grade teacher had said. But what did she know, she was a force to be reckoned with, a child degrader that terrified the bejesus out of me…as a child, and still causes me to doubt myself in public situations when I don’t know what to say to this day. And this was one such day.

Jeb stood there, looking at me, for what seemed to be eons. But actually, I was beginning to warm up a little and finally thought that I was here to prove a point? To solve a problem? To scratch an itch? No, definitely not the last one!

“I, um, I wanted to see about getting some “beachy” type things to decorate my house on the bay. I have some people coming for a visit and want it to have a beachy feel”. I lied and I wondered how many more times I could say the word “beachy” without sounding like a total idiot. Not that I did have some people coming, but I did not need anything from this place, other than just to have a chance to see Jeb again.

He gave me a wink and turned to walk off, suddenly, he stopped and turned around so fast that we were almost face to face. “I was hoping you might have found what you might be looking for”. One side of his lips turned upwards with a slight smile. “Or maybe I’ve been reading the situation wrong”.

No, he was not wrong…he and I both knew it…

Now Jeb and I just kind of hung around in the shop all afternoon, minding the store and talking in between customers, which mostly were out-of-towners, but the locals that just happened to come in, kept eyeing us, wondering if there was some gossip brewing. You know people in a small sea side town had small sea side minds, so I am sure they were working overtime and I could feel the storm brewing on the bay.

Five o’clock came too soon, and I needed to dismiss myself from the shop with an apology for taking up Jeb’s time which I just didn’t want to do. My plan was to casually slip out of the store and walk home with my head deep in thought. How in this world, could I have found such a friend like Jeb in such a short time? A friend that made me feel connections I have never felt before. Yes, I needed to ponder, about life, myself, and what the hell all of this was about. Was this what a best friend felt like? Maybe I had never had a best friend. I had always been somewhat of a loaner most of my life. I thought it was by choice, but maybe now it was just I had surrounded myself with the wrong sort of people. I thought you surrounded yourself with people you felt you should be around, but now I was learning those people needed to be the people you wanted to be around. Lord help me, I needed a beer or three.

He looked up from the register and took a deep breath. “You look like you could use a beer.” He shut the register drawer, zipped up the blue bank bag to be deposited in the drop off. “You want to ride with me or do you want to meet me in thirty minutes at Zeke’s Bar? I can understand if you need a little time to run home and check on things.”

“I’ll meet you there…I have to check on my dog, he’s been cooped up all afternoon. I wasn’t thinking when I left that I would be out all afternoon.” I lied. I had no dog and how was I gonna explain to someone that I had used this as an excuse if the need ever came to explain at a later time? Good Lord, was I now going to have to go and get a dog if Jeb and I stayed friends? I was digging my hole even deeper. Maybe I just needed to send him a message that something came up and I needed to cancel on the beer to buy me time to sort my head. Sleep on the idea of the newness of whatever we had going on and put a label on it. But, as I pushed open the door to Zeke’s Bar and stepped inside, the dog in my head, already had a name.

I saw him sitting in the back corner of the bar by the bay windows so we could look over the water. My friend, holding me a seat at the table sipping on a beer. Was it my imagination, but did he look a little nervous sitting there alone? He looked up to see the clock on the wall and spotted me. I could not escape now even if I tried. I attempted to walk casually towards the table and hoped I didn’t trip or make a spectacle of myself. I succeeded, pulled out a chair and sat. A waitress came over about this time with a beer in hand and slid it in front of me. I grabbed at it like it was a life preserver to a drowning man, gulped down about half a bottle before I got a little choked. “Easy there,” Jeb said laughing, ” I know very little on how to save a choking man so go easy on me.”

I got situated and finally focused on Jeb. He was looking at me from across the table with a questioning look on his face. He seemed to be just as in the dark as to what was going on between us as me. I decided to come clean. We were both adults, had verbal skills and could communicate, especially if we were to become friends.

“I have questions, confessions and I don’t know if I need a friend or a Priest.” I tossed out on the table. He saw my bluff and raised me with, “I am so glad you said that because I was going to ask you the same.” I think we both had the same sigh of relief as we both picked up our beer and took a swig, then sat them down at the same time.

“I’ll go first, if you don’t mind, since you seem to have a shortage of words at times. I am at a place in my life where I have been married, lost a wife, moved my ass to another state and am trying my best to make a new start. I have no idea as to why or how you made me feel the other day at the Piggly Wiggly when our worlds collided. All I know is, you stay on my mind and are beginning to evade my dreams and I have never in my life had something like this happen to me before. I have had affection from women and admiration from men, but this is driving me a little crazy and making me begin to ask questions about myself. I like being around you. I like talking to you. I feel safe around you. And the biggest problem is, at this point of my life, I don’t care if it’s a problem. But it is a problem if you are not on the same page as me, but I have a feeling, you may be having some of the same issues as me, but may not know how to deal with them. But, we can, at least, talk about them…I hope. I hope you don’t just finish your beer and get up and walk out, because I think I might feel like I may have lost my new best friend.”

I sat there, a little stunned that another man was saying the thoughts I had been having out loud, and saying them to me. I was stunned that he seemed OK about it. I was stunned that my knotted up stomach that was a little angry that beer had been poured into it, was relaxing a little and so was my mind. Still, I sat there and not a word came from my mouth because I could not make it work. Why was a picture of Dumbo flashing in my mind? Maybe I concentrated on Dumbo a little too long, because Jeb looked as if he was about to get up. His chair slid back from the table as he said “I’m sorry.”

“Wait!”

Words started to form in my mouth without my brain engaging. And the outpouring of them was like the waters flowing over Logan Martin Dam. Maybe hearing Jeb speak his mind helped me to understand mine. Maybe I was having feelings but just never knew I would be having them. All I knew was, I did not want him to leave and especially to think I was not at least looking at the same book and maybe even on the same page as he.

“I um, I want and need to tell you, what you just said, well, I am a little in the same boat, but I just don’t know how to row it yet. This is a first for me. I have always known that people of the same sex can, could and will have feelings towards each other. I like to think of myself as a progressive man, but I have never thought of myself as having to, maybe the word “deal” with them is the wrong thing to say. I guess the newness of the attraction caught me off guard. I mean, turning the corner and there you were, started something in me that I knew nothing about. It was a feeling that I never got with the women I have dated. I always felt like I was just performing when I was with them. Playing a role of no substance. But then, with you, I almost come alive with new emotions that I have no clue how to handle. So I guess what I am saying is…yes, we need to continue having conversations about all of this and talk it through so we both know what we are getting into.”

Jeb slid his chair back under the table, and a little bit closer to mine. He turned his head and his hand went up as he signaled the waitress. “We’ll have two more please.”

Two men, sitting at a table in the corner of a bar, overlooking the bay in South Alabama. The place amongst the skeeters and poison ivy, the humidity and the heat, where lies the hearts of southern men and women. What was once piss and vinegar, feisty and brazen, now seem to have been tamed by time. The ticking of the clock is not quite as fast as it once was. But now, although the clock was not ticking quiet as fast, the waltz had changed from dancing in four four time to a perfect three four time because of aisle seven of the Piggly Wiggly.