6
BAYANI
Bayani isapprehensive about leaving the safety of John’s apartment and tells John as much. John says they’ll work up to it, and they start with Bayani simply going downstairs to see the butcher shop. Bayani’s been curious about where the big man spends his time. So, one evening after the shop has closed for the day, John carries him, along with his crutch, down the flight of stairs, then sets Bayani down on the storeroom floor and invites him to explore.
Bayani gazes at the many refrigerated display cases showcasing the meat—all cuts of pork, beef, chicken, and lamb. The shop is tidy and clean with the faint smell of bleach that Bayani often notices lingering on John’s hands as well as his clothing when he launders it for him.
“My father owned the building and the store and my grandfather before him,” John says. “It used to be a seafood market. The docks are just a few blocks away.”
John points in that direction, and Bayani gazes out the storefront window whereAmbroz Meatsis written on the glass. Bayani has only ever seen the street from the apartment’s upstairs window and finds this new perspective a little bit jarring. He feels exposed and a bit vulnerable too.
John shows him the meat locker where there is a beef carcass hanging on a hook, waiting to be processed, as well as a row of sinks, a few stainless-steel tables, a band saw, a meat grinder, and a butcher block. Next to the butcher block is where John’s knives are kept, mounted to a magnetized wall. There is also a row of hooks which contain various aprons, including one made of chain metal. The whole room is spotless, including the floor. Bayani wonders if this is also where John completes his jobs for the Hand. Intuition tells him that sort of thing happens elsewhere.
“Can I watch the next time you butcher?”Bayani asks and points to the carcass.
John nods, a small smile appearing on his otherwise serious face. Aside from his arrangement with the Hand, John should be proud of his work, and Bayani seeks to understand all aspects of the man, if only to better determine his nature.
John shows Bayani the walk-in freezer which stores the packaged meat not meant for the store’s display cases and a back room with filing cabinets and an old desktop computer. By the time the tour is complete, Bayani is exhausted from hobbling around and ready for a nap, so John carries him back upstairs and they settle in on the couch.
Two days later is Sunday, John’s only day off, and he tells Bayani that he’d like to take him to the shooting range. Bayani knows John sleeps with a gun. He’s seen it lying on the coffee table when he’s ventured into the kitchen for a midnight snack. He feels safer knowing John is armed, but he’s not sure about arming himself. John seems to sense his hesitation and says, “It’s a good skill to know how to handle a gun. You may never need it, but just in case.”
Bayani nods. He wants to be brave, to show John he can take care of himself, even though all evidence points to the contrary. If John believes it’s important, then Bayani will try to learn.
They ride in the van for a while, until they arrive at a wildlife area in Pass Christian where there is an outdoor shooting range. The area is isolated and surrounded on all sides by marsh, probably an intentional choice on John’s part. There are not many people about, and since the shooting stalls aren’t too far from where they parked, Bayani manages the trip on his own.
With his right arm still in a cast, Bayani will have to use his left. John shows him how to load the gun, how to hold it, and how to aim. John also shows him the function of the safety. With the pistol in hand and the safety off, Bayani takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. It takes a lot of internal coaching for him to pull the trigger, even on a target, but John doesn’t rush him. Despite the muffs covering his ears, the explosion of the gunshot is loud, and the recoil sends an aching jolt through his good arm. His body trembles from the adrenaline.
“That’s a good start,” John says. “Let me help until you get a feel for the kickback.”
John wraps his big arms around Bayani’s smaller frame and holds him steady for the next few rounds. With John’s hands guiding him, Bayani manages to hit the target. Bayani relaxes into the cradle of John’s embrace and feels suddenly much more at ease. John wants to take care of him and part of that is teaching him how to defend himself. Bayani never knew his father, only the men his mother brought home before she left, none of them remarkable in any way. Suddenly having a strong, capable man in his life, one who is a dear friend and potential lover, is a lot for him to digest.
Since coming to America, he’s felt so lonely and isolated. For a long time, he was trapped in Emile’s world with no one he could turn to, no one who would listen. Even upon seeing Bayani’s swollen cheek and split lip after the first time Emile hit him, his own cousin told him to make the best of it. There was no leaving Emile and no going home. The most Bayani could hope for was for Emile to get tired of him.
Now, he has John in his corner, risking his own life to keep him safe. Bayani’s gratitude overwhelms him, so that when the round is spent and John is reloading, he turns toward the man, wraps both arms around him, and squeezes hard.
John sets aside the gun and hugs him back, allowing Bayani to bury his tear-stained face in his soft t-shirt.
“There you go,” John says softly. “Let it all out.”
John strokes his back until the emotions churning through him have run their course and left behind a quiet calm.
They goto the beach afterward, to an area removed from the bustling Sunday afternoon crowd. John sets up an umbrella and two chairs by the water, then carries Bayani across the sand. Bayani giggles at how silly they must look, even from afar, and John smiles at his antics.
After depositing Bayani in the beach chair, John cracks open a can of soda for each of them. The syrupy sweetness is cool and refreshing in the summer heat, but he must take small sips to avoid choking. Bayani never appreciated all the uses of his tongue until he lost it, but he doesn’t dwell in the gloom. The day is beautiful and so is his present company. To avoid lusting after the man so obviously, Bayani concentrates on the water. His cheek muscles burn because he can’t stop smiling.
“Want to go in?” John asks and Bayani nods. John brought a plastic bag to wrap up Bayani’s cast so that it won’t get wet–the man has thought of everything. Once his cast is mostly waterproof, John offers his hand to pull him out of the chair, then strips off his shirt. Bayani is treated at last to the full spectacle of John’s powerful physique–he’s only ever seen him in a t-shirt or tank top prior to this unveiling.
Ang sarap! He’s tasty!
Bayani takes it all in: two defined pecs with curly brown hair at their center, toned abdominals with the smooth lines of his obliques framing his groin area (sadly covered by his shorts), veins that branch along his biceps and flow like rivers to the ones in his neck, all of it coming together to create the perfect man. John is beautiful, inside and out. Bayani notices scarring on one side of John’s trunk and reaches out to it.
“I got burned,” John says, lifting his arm and twisting his torso to give Bayani a better view. “Got a little too friendly with an IED in the desert.”
Bayani traces the web of raised pink scars that twist and coil around the side of John’s stomach and lower ribs, their pattern seeming to mimic the path of fire itself. John allows Bayani to explore, holding himself very still without uttering a word. Bayani realizes that John might not want to be touched in this way and draws back his hand.
“It’s okay,” John says to reassure him. “It doesn’t hurt. In fact, some places I can’t feel at all. See, we both have scars.” John reaches out, and with his thumb, traces Bayani’s cheek with tenderness. Bayani grabs hold of John’s wrist and has the sudden urge to kiss this beautiful, capable hand—to worship it, but he’s too timid to make the first move. And what if John doesn’t want him in that way? The rejection would crush him. Bayani would much rather have John as a friend then not at all. No, better to wait and see.
Still smiling softly at Bayani, John says, “Let’s go test out the water. Do you know how to swim?”
