NEVER
Sleep With A Porcupine

Chapter Fifteen

Matt cleaned up the mess that was left of Walt's life. He swept like a whirlwind through the debris arranging the sale of the island property, forcing Walt into a quick inventory and evaluation of each box stacked in the den. What was needed for a new life was repacked. The rest Matt carted off to the Williamsburg Salvation Army.

"Now is not the time to be sentimental, Hands. You've got to start life all over again. I've got a job waiting for you -- director of advertising for the local paper. You get yourself sober and cut loose that talent again and you'll be corporate vice president of advertising for Rivers, Inc. in no time. We own fifteen papers now , as well as our interest in Miriam's family broadcasting empire." His voice was firm. The look on his face was one Walt though he had forgotten, but hadn't. It was that 'don't fuck it up buddy' one which Matt seldom wore.

Walt was reeling from the impact of Matt's energy. He had been sober for three days and was just starting to have a clear, non-pounding head. He had been following Matt's instructions, signing papers, sorting clothes, whatever he was told to do, in a fog. The fog was gone and the sun was shining. It was a beautiful day. A weak smile crinkled his lips as he listed to Matt. Home, yes, he could go home. But, news travels. He spoke of his anxiety to Matt.

"Walt, that's all taken care of. I am the paper's managing editor and I'm the news director for the local radio-TV combine. Nothing has been reported about what has happened out here. Nothing will be, or heads will roll. There may be some rumors but they'll die without fuel and, if we handle your return the right way, the worst that will be said is you make a lousy husband. That's all your mom knows. You and Nita split because you work too hard, spent too little time with the family. That's a better rap than what could be said, right?"

Walt sat and stared at Matt in amazement. "Why . . ? How did you get that story to mom. I couldn't call, couldn't even think of talking to her about this. Matt, I screwed up everything. Why rescue me? I'm not worth it. You don't know it, but I messed up the same way on my first job. That's why Jan and I never made it to the alter. I can't trust myself. I'm self destructive. It may take time but I'll kill any happiness I find. I'm afraid it'll just happen again. I can't be faithful to one person, no matter how hard I try."

Walt couldn't believe what he was telling Matt. He was admitting his problems without giving them a name, which -- if Matt had killed the stories -- already had been named quite clearly in the local press. But , he couldn't open up all the way. Not to Matt. Even knowing that Matt knew the truth Walt couldn't talk about it.

Matt sat on the couch next to Walt. He looked earnestly at Walt and took his hands. "I'm not going to let you screw up any more, buddy. If you get and itch after we get home, take the company plane and get the hell out of town. Go to K.C. Go to Chicago. Maybe you weren't meant to be a one woman man, or whatever." That 'whatever' was a close as Matt came to really talking about the facts.

Walt nodded in agreement with Matt's solution to the potential problem of being back home. "Honestly, Matt, I doubt if I ever get involved with anyone again. I'm no good at it. It's best if I do like you say, let the hookers and hustlers have my business." With that reply he knew he had revealed as much as he could to Matt.

Standing, Walt told Matt he needed a break. "I'm tired of looking at my past. Want to join me in my last run around this paradise? I've got to burn the last of that alcohol out of my system and start getting back in shape if you're putting me back to work."

Matt looked up, stood and accepted. "I won't embarrass you, since you're so out of shape, Walt. But, yea, I wouldn't mind working out the kinks from all this paper shuffling, unpacking and repacking."

Walt went into the bedroom and pawed through a drawer. Coming back he threw a pair of running shorts and a tank top to Matt. "See you out front in a minute, O Exhausting One." he said and shut the bedroom door. Matt changed in the bathroom and was impatiently running in place on the sand when Walt opened the cabin door.

Without waiting, Matt took off when he saw Walt step out. Shouting a few choice names Walt raced after him. Matt slowed to a jog after his initial burst of speed. Walt was breathing heavy as he caught up. "That was unfair to an ol' wino, you shit," he said huffing as he settled in and matched Matt's pace.

"You said you wanted to burn off the poison. Breath deep. In goes the good, out goes the bad. Let me know if I push you too hard." Matt glanced over at Walt. They both were grinning.

The steady pace and the bright sun soon had both of them wet with sweat. Matt suggested they quit after the first lap and Walt refused, putting on a brief spurt. Jobbing in place in front of Matt he turned and egged Matt on for 'one more time'. When they finally collapsed on the steps they had traversed the island five times and both of them were gasping for breath, aware of aches and pains not felt for years.

"One more last enjoyment, Matt." Walt stood and stripped off his tank top. "Come on, the water's great. This is the perfect way to cool off after a good run." He took off across the beach, through the shallow waves and dove low and flat into the water.

Matt sat and watched as Walt headed straight out swimming hard and fast. Walt was recovering but he had been drinking to avoid facing his losses. Soon, Matt knew, it would crash in. He hoped he could get Walt through that last trauma. He hoped he was doing the right thing. It felt right. Standing, Matt threw his shirt down beside Walt's and raced into the water.

Walt was floating on his back. Together they backstroked north along the island's perimeter. Stopping, Walt showed Matt that even that far out, the water was only up to his neck.

They raced free style back to in front of the cabin and then agreed they had taken enough time away from the work at hand. Matt was back to business as soon as he showered and threw on a pair of jeans and a tee.

"Now let's get cracking. We have to finish packing. Should I sell the car? We're flying home and it won't fit in an overhead."

Walt instructed Matt to get the car's title transferred to Julia and then have it delivered. She was back at Williamsburg since Nita and Kyle had moved back to New York. He couldn't face Julia but knew he owed her more than he had ever paid in wages.

With that last act of atonement Walt let Matt pack him and his remaining possessions into the rental car and they left Virginia. Matt had flown into Richmond but arranged the return flight out of Baltimore to avoid any press. The reservations were for Matt and his brother Arron. Walt was silent as they drove upstate through Richmond and then Fredericksburg.

He finally broke when they passed the road marker announcing they were leaving Virginia. Wracked with sobs he let the tears stream down his cheeks. Matt didn't stop but slowed and dug a box of tissues from the back, handing it to him.

"I loved her. I did. Matt, I'm never going to see her again, am I? God, what an ass I am. And, Kyle. I guess it's best he forgets me, but I'll never forget him. I have a son. No, I had a son. Damn it, Matt, I'm even going to miss Virginia. It's so beautiful and green. It's all gone, isn't it? Everything. Gone." Walt shook his head in resignation. He continued to sob quietly.

It was all wrung out of his system by the time Matt pulled into the rental car return lane at the airport.

Walt settled back in his old room at home. Mom now had a full time live in helper. Walt liked Elana the moment he met her. It was obvious that mom adored her.

Matt had managed and kept the household going during the time Walt fell in the bottle. Elana had been paid and the house account had remained open. Walt added the sums from these two activities to the debt sheet he had started. He was going to pay Matt back with interest and there would be no arguments.

Matt didn't let him have time to start feeling sorry about things again and withdraw into his shell. He called and came to pick up Walt for work the second day after they arrived.

"Easiest way to find out what's been going on here is to get active here. It's best you keep yourself busy anyway, Walt. You can't do anything about what's past. Get busy and build yourself a new future."

It was hard at first. There were little looks and some sly remarks but Walt refused to pay any attention. He stuck with the story that Matt had built, admitted missing up his marriage with too much work, not enough love and tenderness, when questioned. People soon learned it wasn't a topic Walt enjoyed discussing. Everyone at the office also learned Walt was not just some old friend of the Rivers who got the job out of pity or family favoritism. Walt lost himself in the job.

He had always been a quick study. His old work habits surfaced as soon as he started digging into learning about the local market, its major advertisers, their goals, and what they wanted to be vs what they were as viewed by the public. He turned on the charm and did a lot of open hearted listening to his staff, to an advertiser and to whomever was seated beside him at any Chamber of Commerce or service club meeting he attended as the new man from the local paper.

A routine quickly developed where Walt met with Matt and his wife, Miriam, Saturdays for dinner unless there was some conflict with the local social calendar. He remembered Matt's note from the wedding and found he had been correct. He and Miriam hit it off the first Saturday night. They both shared an interest in anything that Matt wanted to discuss and yet frequently ganged up on him when he became a bore.

The one thing that Miriam left to the two of them was rehashing football games whether from years ago or the recent folly of the high school team. They even enjoyed dissecting the talent of the team from the area junior college, now relabeled by some educational marketing guru as the local community college.

If there was a local sports event they attended, all three of them; although Miriam seemed to enjoy it more as an event for showing off her new fashions and scoping out the latest finery being exhibited by other Country Club wives. Matt admitted to Walt this had started back when he was assistant sports editor and was now a Matt and Miriam tradition.

Walt returned to the schedule he had followed when he was sixteen. He worked hard all day, did what he could to help around the house and ran off any excess energy on the track at the stadium.

He had to make an arrangement wit the new high school director of athletics to get a key to open one of the side gates which had been installed. It at least insured his privacy. He dried up sexually as he dried out from his lengthy drinking binge.

After four months of pushing himself he walked into Matt's office. He was embarrassed and doubly embarrassed because he was embarrassed as he admitted to Matt that the next time there was a flight into Denver, or Chicago, or wherever, he wanted to go, needed to go. Matt got up, walked around his desk and threw an arm around his shoulders.

Thank heaven. I thought you had shriveled up and died, Walt. You have to keep the machine well oiled, buddy. Going to see anyone in particular? What a dumb question. Not if you don't care where you're going to get laid. None of the local ladies have caught your eye, hu? Tell me to shut up, I'm doing it again." Walt could tell that Matt was happy he was finally out of his self imposed celibacy.

When they arrived in Chicago Walt checked wit the pilot to verify that there would be a two day layover. The production staff members who had chartered the flight were attending a high power, high price seminar at the Palmer House. He headed for the Drake and checked in. Fifteen minutes later Walt was on the phone with Chuck and Dick in New York. Without dwelling on all the gruesome details he filled them in on the last three years and then asked them for a big favor.

"Walt, baby, I bet I know what you want and it will be a pleasure, a little costly, but a pleasure. Now if you had flown into the City you could be relaxing with us. Don't forget where we are, same ol' homo-sex-you-all fantasy pleasure palace." Dick was bubbling.

The local talent the twins sent was a willing, able, handsome, clean and neat young man with a body and face that said his age could have been anything from 18 to 28. He admitted to Walt he was at the higher end of his guess, spent a lot of time and money on his looks and on keeping fit and trim. They both enjoyed the evening. Walt entertained him with stories about the twins as well as with some fairly unique sexual moves. For Walt it was relaxation and release but nothing special. The second night he picked up a beauty of a blonde at a bar over on the strip and enjoyed himself just as much for half the price.

From then on when he did fly out with the pilot to visit the outside world it was usually a coin toss that decided the sex of his partner for the trip. When he took time to let fate make its call before hand and it ended up female he got in the habit of seeing if Mark, the pilot, was interested in doubling up. He wasn't a bad looking fellow himself, but without a clue about how Walt enjoyed the sex even more when he could hear and sometimes see Mark humping his honey in the next bed.

The routine chewed up the days. The days merged into weeks. The weeks passed swiftly.

Matt's folks died in a plane crash four months after his fortieth birthday. The empire was now his. As promised he took Walt with him into the corporate offices. It wasn't the way he had planned to take over Rivers, Inc., but Matt took charge with a firm hand and quickly proved to all that he had learned the business quite well. He now was a distinguished figure with a gray steak in his black hair.

They now met once a week for a game of handball. Matt usually beat Walt unmercifully. But, whenever it came to putting on the old running shorts or the challenge of a few laps in the pool, Walt proved he could still move out for the distance and make Matt cry uncle.

April the next year, Walt's mom had a massive stroke and died on the way to the hospital. Walt took off from work for the week involved in arranging the funeral and cleaning out the nest she had built upstairs in her rooms. He found scrapbooks with every word ever written about him from junior high through college.

He found a box in which she had kept in chronological order every letter he had even written her since the day he left for college including the wedding announcement. The last few letter were from Nita and Kyle. Nita had made it a point to keep in touch and have Kyle know his paternal grandmother. He hasn't know, neither mom nor Elana had said a word. He devoured those letters, learning about the growth of his son. His heart swelled with pride and broke in two at the same time. He realized this would be the last he would hear about Kyle. He had sent Nita an invitation to the funeral.

Nita and Kyle were there for the funeral. She sent him a brief letter that he had to sign for. In it she requested only that he not attempt to talk with them and stay as far away as possible. They were going to be escorted by two private detectives who had their orders to be sure Walt followed her request.

He explained to Matt and begged his help. All through the funeral ceremony and at the grave site Walt was flanked by Matt and Miriam. He was torn with pain and sorrow over the loss of his mother and it cut even deeper every time he glanced across the room or over the grave and saw his wife and his son. He wasn't trying to be stoic but somehow the tears never came. Walt was stone faced the entire day.

That weekend Walt brought his motorcycle up out of the basement and started working on it in the back yard. By late Saturday he had it back in perfect working order and was busy polishing and waxing and buffing. He rose early Sunday, fixed a couple of sandwiches, filled a thermos with coffee, added an apple and stuck it all in one of the saddle bags. He first went out and visited mom. Then he took off just cruising the countryside.

He didn't feel it was planned but Walt found himself on River Road approaching the entry to the cabin. He parked by the gate, leaning his bike against one of the giant cedars. The lock was rusted, it looked like it hasn't been opened in years. Walt climbed over the gate and walked down the drive.

It was a sorry sight he found. The cabin had been vandalized. The porch screens were torn. It appeared every window was broken, only a few were boarded over. He walked on down to the dock. It was crumbling and rotten, half fallen into the river. He stopped halfway back to the cabin and slowly turned around, memories from his youth filled his head. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. Then the dam broke. He slumped on the ground. The hurt of all his recent losses and all the old ones piled on top of him, crushing him.

Roaring through town on the way home he saw Tony. They waved at each other. On the other side of the river he passed two of his former ad salesmen. They honked. He waved. He was becoming one of the good old boys, recognized and respected.

Back at the house he rolled the bike up on the rear porch. He got a beer and sat on the front steps, thinking. Without mom there was no reason to keep this house. It was too big for him and too damn hard to take care of. Why not sell it and get a place more his size, a place where he could relax, be comfortable -- like the cabin. Damn, why not? It could be fixed up and make into a perfectly acceptable home for a bachelor. He'd have his privacy. Well maybe tomorrow at lunch he could see if anyone knew who owned it now.

Walt spent three lunch hours digging around and eventually found that the cabin was still titled jointly to him and Matt. The taxes, what small yearly sum that accumulated, were paid by Rivers, Inc. out of a special escrow account set up years ago.

The afternoon he made that discovery Walt went to see Matt. He explained what he wanted to do. "Could I take title? What should I pay you for your interest? Your dad was the original purchaser and Rivers, Inc. has been paying the taxes. I want to be fair about this. Isn't some payment due the corporation?" He kept talking because he was afraid Matt might say no to the whole idea.

"Look, Walt, give me a dollar. I'll have the lawyers file the title change. The corporate involvement was just easier than having to be reminded about that place every year. I couldn't go back after . . . you know. The place was too lonely, but I couldn't sell it, ever. It's just been sitting out there for a long, long time. Take it. Enjoy it. Make it yours with my blessing." One more time Walt caught the steel in Matt's voice and just slipped him a dollar, shook his hand and left.

Walt decided he would put the house on the market when he had the cabin to the point he could move in and finish the renovation. He started working every weekend cleaning out, ripping down, clearing off, getting the shell ready to be refurbished into a house, a home.

After cutting and carting every dead limb, dead tree, rotten timber, rusted fitting, torn screen and broken window he took his first step into the cabin. He had dreaded this moment. Most of the shelves and cabinet fronts had been ripped off or busted and used for firewood. He checked the treasure drawer. The lock was busted and the drawer was empty. There were spray painted signs and words swirling all over the walls. It was not a pretty sight.

Walt started just filling the trailer he had been using to haul the outside mess. He shoveled out the fireplace. He kicked, pushed and swept the mess on the floor into a pile and carried it by the shovel full out of the cabin. He finally pulled open the bathroom door, one at a time. These rooms weren't as badly messed up as the main room. Between them one sink had been broken in two and every toilet was standing full of a mess over which someone had poured a chemical that had turned their content into a dull purple sludge. That he'd get a professional to handle. There were a few tiles lying loose on the floor. Whether they had fallen from temperature changes or been pried off it was impossible to tell. The spray paint had been used but should clean up off the institutional finishes a lot easier.

Walt quickly decided that with summer coming he should get the bathrooms repaired first and then get the utilities turned on. He could take it from there. He would have the fixtures removed from the female bathroom and the plumbing on that side of the kitchen turned off. After replacing a few titles and a good cleaning, this room would then be his temporary home and eventually, a bright, clean, neat workout room.

The plumber he found that could attack the problem almost immediately was the brother of the championship team's nose tackle. He remembered Walt and wasn't upset that Walt couldn't place him. He chewed Walt's ear a lot but, with two helpers, quickly solved the problems. After hearing Walt's plans for the other bathroom he suggested a minor change, recommending they relocate a sink and shower into one corner, enclosing the shower and adding its own drain. He assured Walt he could match the tile so it would appear as if it was original.

"You may want to run a line for an outlet to allow a mini-refrigerator to sit in here too. You know, we could do it as a built in under the sink. Have it a top of the line gym setting, Walt. What about it."

After a brief haggle on the additional cost Walt approved. While the plumbers were busy every day, Walt worked diligently on keeping his desk clear for the weekends. He worked even harder than normal to ensure his free time. This became a habit that continued the rest of his life.

The basic bathroom was finished that first week. Walt spent all the following weekend replacing tiles and scrubbing. Just after noon Sunday Matt dropped by as Walt was rinsing the walls down the final time. He stepped out, didn't need or want the memories that might come if Matt joined him in that room.

"Had to see what you were faced with and what you were planning. You want some help?"

Walt replied, "Only thing left this weekend is checking out what electrical work will be needed. Right now I've got the power on for working in here but haven't checked the other circuits. Want to replace broken bulbs?"

They found that everything was still intact except for the kitchen. No outlet worked and neither did the overhead or sink light. Walt told Matt about the rework being done on the other bathroom. Since he had planned to have a professional install the heavy duty wall outlet he would just have him recheck the entire cabin and fix whatever was wrong with the kitchen.

The next weekend Matt was there early Saturday morning. Working together they stripped the old finish off all the remaining base built ins. Matt measured and cut shelving where Walt indicated he wanted replacements. They seldom spoke except to exchange needed information about the job at hand. At times one of them would grunt in disgust and the needed hammer or screwdriver got handed across. They were a team again, attacking the cabin like they had their opponents on the football field.

In two months they had the inside restored to a stark, bare but livable condition. They celebrated by holding an open house for Miriam who had so far participated only by ensuring they had plenty to eat every Saturday and Sunday evening when the arrived dirty and tired at the Rivers ' home.

She was impressed by the work they had done. "I bet I'd be even more impressed if I had seen it when you started. Was the inside as bad as the porch and dock?"

Walt took her hands. "Miriam, it was ten times worse. You should be glad you never saw it."

When Walt put the house on the market it sold quickly. He moved the few things he wanted into the workout room, using it as a massive storage closet and bedroom until he found the right furniture and furnishings for the main room. That was something he was going to tackle when all else was done. For now, with summer upon them, the outside got his attention.

He replaced the storage shed. It was beyond repair. He and Matt scraped and repainted the porch, windows and doors. They retreated and restained the log siding. They rebuilt the dock and constructed a new diving platform float anchored offshore. When they were too dirty to make the trip for dinner, they showered at the cabin. By unspoken agreement Matt used the bathroom while Walt used the shower in the workout room.

Laboring on the dock late that summer Walt complemented Matt on how well he had kept in shape. Standing and running through a set of mock muscle poses Matt grinned at Walt and returned the praise, then challenged him to a race.

"In open water I know I can beat your ass. Out around the buoy and back?"

"You're on, O Exasperating One," replied Walt as he stood, shoved Matt onto his rear, took a flat dive into the river and struck out swimming hard.

A week later Walt was busy putting the finishing touches on the dock's decking. Matt had quit earlier and was now yelling at him from the cabin.

"You better get cleaned up. It's time for dinner."

Walt looked up. Matt was standing naked on the steps, toweling his hair. This time the memories hit Walt and they hit hard. He had been good at avoiding it since Matt brought him back. Even on the handball courts or in the showers at the Country Club after a game. All those other settings had been new, for the new Matt and the new Walt. But here. There stood the old Matt, he was gorgeous and it bothered the hell out of Walt just looking at him.

"You go on, I'll just batch here. I want to get this done. Give my best to Miriam," Walt yelled back over his shoulder without looking directly at Matt again. He kept working, pounding extra nails into every plank within his reach. Matt honked and waived as he pulled up the drive and left. Walt sat glaring at the empty drive.

He stood, stripped an dove into the cool river. Not again. Damn it. School days are long gone. Matt is content, grown out of it, in love with Miriam. Obviously I haven't grown out of it. That's where I always end up -- in bed with a guy. Shouldn't have come back here. He drove himself through the water out and back, out and back. Finally he pulled himself up on the dock and collapsed, his mind blank.

Walt spent the next weekend in Denver. This time he had specific plans. Gave his regrets to Mark. Made it clear that this time he wanted to be alone. He didn't call the twins. He had learned from the male objects of his earlier visits just where the Mile High pick up spots were.

Walt found what he wanted after hitting two bars and making a number of proposals to approachable candidates. He was looking for stamina and versatility. He found it. He paid for it. He spent twenty four hours testing it and himself to the limit.

When they parted his partner for the weekend told Walt he had never before been required to perform so vigorously for so long yet also been so well serviced himself. He slipped Walt a telephone number and made it clear that for any future engagement like what had just transpired the pleasure was his, no fee.

Sexually drained for now Walt returned to the workplace with a new vigor. With two more weekends the grunt work where Matt's assistance was distracting but helpful was over.

Walt now settled into putting the finishing touches on his new abode. He gave himself a budget and a time limit, setting a date for a celebration with Matt and Miriam as he started. When it was complete the furnishings were adult, homey. There were light designer touches, but nothing fey. It looked and felt like the haunt of a well to do but confirmed bachelor.

He fixed the entire meal himself for the celebration dinner. Miriam was full of questions on where did he find this or that and over the meal wanted to know how he had cooked another set of this or thats.

Things settled back into the old weekly routine. The Saturday evening dinners were now exchanged between the two households. One evening, sitting on the porch watching the sun set sprinkle red fire on the river, Miriam turned to Walt. Matt was off messing in the kitchen.

"Walt, you need someone. It's not healthy to be so alone. Get a dog, get a woman, get a man."

He turned to look at her. What was she aiming at. It seemed to be a straight forward, honest statement of interest and love.

"I can't afford to let anyone into my life anymore. Since Virginia I don't trust myself and don't trust other people when it comes to intimate personal relationships. Love is just a game and you get hurt to easily."

"That's not true, Walt. You've let Matt and I be close. We love you. We'd never hurt you, believe me. You know, we're the three musketeers now -- the two kings and a queen." Her voice was soft and gentle. She patted his hand and smiled.

The sun light faded. The fire on the water died and the river lay a black velvet sheet undulating as it flowed past coming from what was and going to what would be.

- o o o -


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