For the Love of Byron
an excerpt

FOR THE LOVE OF BYRON

He and I were alike;
Yet we were opposing forces.
He looked for the good in life;
I looked for the good in the now.

He was smart, honest and caring;
I was dense, shady and callous.
He was the one I took comfort in being with;
I was the one he could let loose with.

His eyes sparkled as the ocean;
My spirit soothed by the warmth of his body.
His laughter was soft as song birds;
My tempestuous nature calmed by his voice.

He brought brightness into my life;
I brought darkness and strife into his world.
He imparted unconditional love for my heart;
I conferred little in return for his soul.

Believing that I was as those I befriended;
Believing that I would once again hurt him;
He judged me guilty, by association.
He had the right to make that judgment.

I had given him no reason to trust me;
I had given him no reason to see me differently.
He had taken love from me, returning it threefold;
I had taken love from him, returning disloyalty.

To do it again, I would open myself;
I would give him the strength he needed;
He would give me the trust I deserved;
We would give each other the love we desired.

My heart and soul yearn for his return;
My body and spirit seek his forgiveness.
Though I believe it may be too late;
For the love of Byron, I will wait.

High School Graduation! The first stepping stone to a bright new future. For Byron Seloc and Chad Walls, events that happened the night after and the days that followed their graduation led to misunderstanding and mistrust. A life long friendship ended.

Chad Walls had thought his life couldn’t get any worse after graduation and the loss of his best friend. But within a year, he found himself face down in the gutter, literally and figuratively. He picked himself up and sought the help he needed. Now, fifteen years later, he goes by a new name, CW, and has a good life in Flagstaff, Arizona.

Byron Seloc had done everything he could to forget the disaster of his high school graduation. Now, with a Ph.D. in psychology after his name, he found himself settling down in Flagstaff to begin a new life after ending a bad relationship. Little did he know that his path would once again cross with his best friend.

**********
CW saw the open car hood and prepared to slow down to help the stranded motorist. As he got closer to the car, he recognized the man pacing next to it and kicking the tires. He smiled to himself as he stopped behind the car and got off his cycle. He left his helmet on because he still wasn’t ready to let Byron know of his existence and because he was wearing a ski mask underneath to keep the cold from freezing his face. He didn’t want to scare Byron.

“Hi,” Byron called out, walking toward the cyclist. “Thank you for stopping.” He held out his right hand and felt a firm grip from the other man.

“No problem,” CW replied, shaking Byron’s hand. He held out a business card for Byron. “I just want to warn you that I’m wearing a ski mask underneath my helmet to keep my face warm. I’m not going to mug or carjack you.”

“Thank you, CW,” Byron responded after glancing at the name on the business card for Martini’s Auto Maintenance. He looked back at the man, still wearing the ski mask.

“It’s cold out here this morning,” CW said, seeing the curious look on Byron’s face. He turned away from the beautiful eyes that he remembered so well from high school and strode toward the front of the car. “So, you have a mid 80s model Corolla FX. I bet you have lots of miles on it.”

“Yes.”

“Regular tune-ups,” he inquired, looking down at the engine.

“Uh.”

CW looked up at Byron. “Cars are like people, doc, and you have to take care of them, especially as they get older. You should have your car checked regularly, if not once a year then at the very least every 25,000 miles.” He smiled and shook his head, greatful for the fact that Byron had not paid attention when he had called him doc. “Get in the car and turn it on for me.”

“It won’t turn over,” Byron began to argue.

“But I’ll be able to hear how the engine sounds as you try and that will give me a clue as to what the problem might be. Did you fill ‘er up?”

“Yes! I did that before leaving the canyon,” Byron replied, offended. He sat down behind the wheel and grumbled, turning the key in the ignition several times.

“Stop!” CW ordered. He shut the hood of the car and walked over to Byron, still sitting in the driver’s seat. “When’s the last time you had this car checked?”

“In March, before I moved from San Francisco,” Byron snapped in response, a smug look on his face.

“Oil change?”

Byron stared at him. “I said I had it checked in March.”

“Having your car checked is not the same as having anything done to it. Did you get the oil changed before moving here?”

“I don’t know,” he replied shyly, his head looking down at his lap.

“What about the water and transmission fluid? Just checked or refilled?”

“I guess so.”

“Which?”

“I don’t know,” Byron snapped, getting out of his seat and standing next to CW. “I took it to a garage and told them to check it out because I was going to move to Arizona. They checked it out and said everything was okay. They said I shouldn’t have any problems getting to Arizona. That’s all I know about the inner workings of my car.” He was breathing heavily and his face was flushed when he finished.

CW stared at him for a moment, a slight smile on his face. He’d almost forgotten the way Byron’s face lit up when he was overjoyed or angry. He felt as if he should stop harassing him about the car, but memories from younger days caused him to continue teasing Byron.

“So I guess I can assume that you haven’t taken your car to a garage since you got here.”

“There was nothing wrong with it,” Byron stated defensively. The look in his eyes were daring this man to continue harassing him.

“Have you placed a call to Triple A?”

Byron let out an exasperated sigh. “My fucking cell phone died.”

CW started walking away before making another comment. “Did you remember to recharge it? Or did you think it, like you car, takes care of itself?” He had a smug smile on his face as he walked to his cycle. He thought he could feel the daggers being thrown at his back.

“Fuck you,” Byron yelled. He started walking toward the black and blue striped motorcycle. “I’m not some hot shot mechanic that can listen to a car and know what’s wrong with it. I haven’t had the time to get my car looked at because I’m busy with my work and can’t afford to be without my car.”

CW turned around, opening his cell phone and pressing a button. His eyes glared at Byron, but he had a grin on his face. “I guess you can afford to spend time stranded on the highway instead,” he stated calmly and smoothly.

“What … who the fuck … I don’t believe,” Byron stuttered.

CW gave him a toothy smile before responding to the cell phone. “Yeah, Pete, it’s CW. I’ve got a stranded motorist about 20 miles out of the city on highway 180.” He pulled the phone away from his ear. “Do you have a business card, sport?”

Byron handed him one of his cards, glaring angrily at the man.

“Yeah, Pete. Byron Seloc, Ph.D.” he said into the phone but looked directly at Byron. “Genius doesn’t take the car to get check-ups. Thinks they’ll do it on their own while he sleeps at night.”

“Fuck you,” Byron grumbled and turned away. He walked back to the car and slumped down in the driver’s seat.

CW chuckled before continuing his conversation with Pete. “It’s a gray 80s Corolla FX. I’ll leave a note on the window and the key under the back tire well. Pick it up as soon as you can and I’ll work on it later. I’m going to give the doctor a lift back into town. Thanks Pete.”

CW walked up to the driver’s door and leaned down to look at Byron. “A tow truck will come by and pick up the car. Do you have a spare key?”

“Yes,” Byron said softly. He looked into CW’s eyes and thought he noticed something familiar, but pushed it to the back of his mind. He reached over to the glove compartment and rummaged around until he felt the key. He took it out and gave it to CW.

“You have two choices, Doc.” CW held the key in his hand and waved it as he spoke. “You can sit here and wait for the tow truck, or you can ride into the city with me.”

“How long will the tow truck be?”

“About twenty feet,” CW replied with a straight face.

It took several seconds for CW’s response to click in Byron’s head. “You are an ass, you know that.”

CW laughed at him. “The tow truck probably won’t get here for an hour. My guys weren’t sitting around the shop waiting for you to call us.” CW was enjoying being able to tease Byron once again.

“Jackass,” Byron said under his breath. “I have a meeting at ten o’clock. Would you be able to get me to my meeting in time?”

“Of course.”

“Without breaking the law or my neck,” Byron snarled.

“I’ve never received a ticket, doc. You’ll be safe with me and you’ll get to your meeting on time.”

“Fine. Then I guess I’m going with you.”

“Good,” CW said with a chuckle. “Lock up your car.” He walked to the back of the car, fumbled through his leather jumpsuit before pulling out a little magnetic box. He put the key inside and then placed the box underneath the well of the back wheel.

“What are you doing?” Byron asked from just behind him.

CW turned around to look at him. “You want my guys to break into your car instead?”

“No.”

“This is a spot we always put keys so the tow driver can find it. Your car will be safe,” he stated, “unless you’d rather sit here and wait.”

“No. Let’s go,” Byron said hastily, letting out a heavy sigh.

As they stood by the motorcycle, CW handed Byron the spare helmet from the back of his cycle. “You don’t look like the cycle type of guy, so you might want to wrap your arms around my body. Just allow your body to ride with my back and sway as I do.”

“You’d really like that, wouldn’t you?” Byron shot back at him.

“Suit yourself, doc.” CW pulled on his helmet, lifted the visor and looked at Byron as he climbed onto his cycle. “Get on behind me and grab the bar behind you, doc,” he directed. “Where are we going?”

“Lavendar House. It’s located at ...”

“I know where it is, doc. Let’s go.”

Byron straddled the cycle and held his hands around the back bar. He hadn’t ridden double on a cycle since his high school days. He was starting to think about the times he and Chad rode around their home town when CW started the engine.

Before taking off, CW pulled the front wheel up about a foot off the ground, causing Byron to wrap his arms around CW’s chest. With a smile on his face, CW took off down the highway, feeling the tightness of Byron’s grip and the man’s body against his own. Just like high school he thought.

As they sped down the highway, Byron’s thoughts returned to his high school days. He remembered all the fun times that he had with Chad as they rode around backroads on Chad’s cycle. How it felt to hold his arms tightly around Chad’s chest and feel the muscles of Chad’s back against his own chest as they turned curves. He missed his best friend.

Before long, CW pulled up and stopped the cycle in front of Lavendar House. He watched as Byron got off the cycle and placed the helmet on the back bar. He had enjoyed feeling Byron’s arms around him again.

“Thank you,” Byron stated quietly, holding out his hand.

“You’re welcome.” CW took Byron’s hand and held it. “I’ll call after we check your car and fix it.” He smiled, letting go of Byron’s hand.

Byron shook his head. “You are an ass.” He stood silently as he watched the motorcycle speed away. The memory of CW’s eyes remained with him as he turned and walked toward the front door of Lavendar House.