Читать книгу A New Requiem - B. Lance Jenkins - Страница 5

Quia pi-us es!

Translated to: Thou art merciful. The last line of Requiem.

The audience erupted in applause. Dwight turned to them, bowing to recognize their appreciation for yet another work of art he had just displayed in this rural, cultureless town, all the while embracing the implied notion that he was, in fact, a big fish in this small pond. He then moved over, pointing with his entire hand toward the choir, which drew more applause. Ben stood there, enjoying the moment, but realizing that this six-month preparation process had just culminated with a production that lasted slightly less than one hour. He always dealt with depression once something like this ended.

In college he acted in both stage productions and film, so he stood there recalling the feeling of life slowing down when a project like that ended. For him, it was never a good feeling; he missed the hustle and bustle of going non-stop to achieve a goal, so the thought of summer approaching with nothing to keep him busy except for work proved deflating. And now that Rachel was out of the picture, he expected to have more time on his hands. At least he could finally spend the time focusing on how to make himself happy.

The house lights turned on and the audience began moving to the lobby. An announcement played over the speakers: “Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you for attending tonight’s Freeden Community Chorus performance of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Requiem. We invite all of you to join us now for a reception in the lobby.”

Dwight had already worked his way into the audience, taking compliments that blew his head up like a hot air balloon. He loved every minute of the attention he was getting.

Ben walked to the backstage area to grab his phone and keys from a bench in the dressing room. Dr. Colin Johnson, a fellow bassist and well-respected seventy-two-year-old local doctor who was nearing retirement, approached him. “We did well, I’d say!”

Ben nodded in affirmation while grabbing his things from the bench. “We did indeed.”

“You almost sounded like you knew what you were doing,” he said.

Ben laughed. “And we all know that’s only because you’re standing right next to me practically telling me what to do.”

“Now, now, give yourself some credit,” he said. “You’ve come a long way since the beginning.”

“Again, I have you to thank for the guidance.”

He patted Ben on the back. “Hopefully we can do it again in the fall. You were a good addition to our bass section, my friend.”

“Well I’ve always wanted to be a part of the community chorus, just finally made the time for it after Dwight asked me about fifteen times.”

He chuckled while he, too, grabbed his belongings. “Well, you better sing with us while you can,” he said. “Rumor has it Dwight may be retiring from the school and the community chorus, too.”

“What?” Ben asked, surprised. “Dwight didn’t tell me, I would have remembered if he had.”

“Yes, he’s been teaching for thirty years and directing this choir for almost the same amount of time, maybe more. And of course, as you know, he serves as music director and organist at Freeden Baptist. From what I’ve heard, he plans to give that more attention in the days ahead.”

“I had not heard that.”

Selfishly, Ben did not want Dwight to retire. They were, of course, friends, but in addition to their companionship, his musical mentorship proved great for Ben and he had extended his range considerably since working with him. But his retirement would be an even bigger loss for this chorus -- and for this town, for that matter. They could surely find someone to fill the role, but it was hard to believe that anyone would give the effort to this thriving yet small, local chorus like Dwight did. He and Ben had bonded quickly once they began working together, but he had not mentioned anything about retiring. He wondered if it were simply a rumor that perhaps sparked about this time every year when the concert was over and summer was approaching.

“You staying for the reception, Dr. Johnson?”

He walked toward the door, and turned back to Ben before exiting. “No, sir, early start tomorrow.” He winked. “Take care of yourself.”

Most choir members had already left the dressing room to socialize at the reception, so Ben walked to the lobby to join them.

Dwight continued to work the crowd and take in all compliments that attendees sent his way. Ben wanted to talk to him, pay him his own respects for another tremendous production, but all the old ladies in town were so enamored by him that Ben recognized he would simply have to wait. Ben walked closely by him and heard a bit of it. Kathy Thompson, chair of the Freeden Town Beautification Committee, said, “Dwight, I think you just make ‘em sound better every time!”

Julie Patterson, chair of the Freeden Baptist Finance Committee said just after Ms. Thompson spoke, “Well, Kathy, we get to hear him every Sunday!”

It amazed Ben how many people loved him for his music and ability, but if the man ran for political office in the local elections, he would be slaughtered. One time over lunch, Ben heard an elderly lady say, “Elton John might be going to hell for being gay, but I still love his music!” Likewise, people just could not get over Dwight’s sexuality. He was gay, and that was different. It hurt Ben to know how people felt about Dwight, because the little old ladies and others that often paid him compliments for his work at the concert hall and church would be the first to drag him through the mud behind his back.

Ben went over for a glass of wine at the bar, and saw Terri standing there with her husband, Shawn.

“Terri,” Ben said, smiling as he approached them.

“Ben!”

He shook her husband’s hand. “Shawn, so good to see you.”

“And you too,” Shawn replied in his subtle, soft-spoken way.

“How’s the baby girl?”

Shawn picked her up and held her as she sat on his left arm. “Oh, she’s doing good, aren’t you, Anslee?”

Anslee chuckled.

“How are you holding up?” Terri asked.

The joy of watching Shawn and his baby girl bond left Ben’s face as he pondered over how his marriage had failed and hopes of having a child would have to be delayed, but he still smiled, hopeful that his decision to leave Rachel would still prove to be good for his happiness. And sanity. “I am doing well.” Then he leaned in and spoke softly, “We separated a few days ago.”

“Oh Ben, I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he exclaimed, then nodded in affirmation. “It had to be done, and I am doing okay.”

She sighed. “Well, we will be praying for you.”

“Yes, yes, I know you will.”

Shawn walked away with Anslee in an obligatory manner, understanding that the subject matter was really between Ben and Terri. They both watched them walk away.

Terri restarted. “If there is anything we can do for you, please let me know.”

“I will, but seriously… I’ll be fine. I’m relieved more than anything.”

“I can imagine it’s a load off, with all that was going on.”

“You are correct.” They both shared a laugh.

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will. See ya.”

Ben began to walk away when he overheard someone say, “Terri!”

“Kate!” Terri replied.

“You did so great tonight.”

Ben turned his head as he gradually walked away and noticed a woman, dressed in a classy, semi-formal dress, approaching Terri. They hugged, and then restarted the conversation. Then suddenly, Terri yelled toward him. “Ben!”

He turned back and looked at her, but not for long.

The woman next to Terri was gorgeous. Stunning. His attention was naturally drawn to her.

“Ben, please come meet my friend,” Terri said.

Ben stepped back toward Terri and her friend. He had never believed in love at first sight; in fact, his experience with love had long been so dismal and disappointing that he believed it was the most ridiculous notion. But he felt something at this moment that he could not explain.

“And who is your friend?” Ben asked.

“Ben, this is Kate Gregory, she is the new assistant district attorney and her office is right here in Freeden. We went to Chapel Hill together. She just moved here from Charlotte.”

Ben shook her hand, and they made eye contact. “I see. Well, Freeden is quite a different place from Charlotte.”

“Yes, you could say, that,” she replied, smiling.

“Ben Bailey,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Gregory.”

“Wow,” she replied, “you’re quite the gentleman to be calling someone your own age Miss anything.” The two shared a laugh. “Call me Kate.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Kate,” he said.

Terri jumped in. “Ben is a local attorney. He has his own firm here in Freeden.”

“What kind of law do you practice?” Kate asked.

“Criminal law.”

“Then we will likely see quite a bit of each other, I would imagine?”

“Perhaps we will. I practice more cases outside the county than here though.”

“Wait, didn’t you perform tonight too?”

“Yes, he is an extraordinary baritone,” said Terri.

“Is that right?” Kate asked.

He chuckled. “I would not say that. But thank you for the compliment, nonetheless.”

Kate noticed him, and that excited Ben. He was awed by her beauty and kindness. For once, it did not seem forced or awkward for Ben to encounter small-talk.

“He is very good, don’t let him fool you,” Terri said.

“A man of many talents,” Kate said. “I’m impressed.”

Ben smirked. “Well, when you practice criminal law in a small town, you have to do something that’ll make people like you.”

Kate and Terri both laughed at the comment.

He looked at Kate, wondering if he’d be rejected. What the hell, go for it. Then he said, “Perhaps I could show you around town sometime?” Ben thought Kate looked shy suddenly, though she had not looked this way the entire conversation.

“That would be great, Kate,” Terri spoke for her. “Ben knows so much about the area. This is his hometown, too.”

“Well,” Kate said as she smiled, still appearing a bit nervous, “I suppose that would be nice.”

Ben could not tell if she felt obligated because Terri had forced the notion on her, or if she truly wanted to, but he really did not care. She had agreed to it. There was something about Kate he instantly admired. Sure, she exemplified beauty and seemed to have a nice, approachable personality, but something about her seemed down-to-earth and genuine. It felt unlike anything he had ever felt before.

“Let’s do it soon,” Ben said.

“Yes,” Kate said, appearing less anxious now. “Let’s do that.”

Ben, who worried he would not shine in small-talk situations, figured he had better leave while he was ahead. Despite the fact that so many people thought he possessed an incredible ability to talk to anyone and comfort them from the beginning, he did not have the same confidence in himself.

“Well, I’ll let you guys go,” he said. “Terri, you did an amazing job tonight on your solo. Kate, it was nice to meet you and I’ll look forward to seeing you again soon.”

“Take care,” Terri said genuinely.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Kate followed. “Bye.”

Kate’s smile spoke to Ben. He could not put his finger on it, but there was something very special about her. He hoped to get to know her. She, like Terri, seemed to be a breath of fresh air amid the toxic environment that was Freeden.

As Ben walked away, Dwight peeled from a nearby conversation with out-of-town regulars at the concert hall.

“My good friend, Ben.” Dwight exclaimed.

“Did it again, Mr. Kerry.” Ben replied.

They hugged. Dwight did his usual kiss on the cheek. Most men in this area were so homophobic that they would not be able to live with themselves if they allowed him to do that, though he never did it to show romantic affection; he simply did that with his friends. Ben was always weirded out a bit by it, mainly because he feared what others might think if they saw it, but he appreciated it as a gesture of kindness from a dear friend.

“Congratulations, Dwight, on another success.”

“Well, I am just so glad you finally agreed this time to participate in the chorus. You did great!”

Ben chuckled. “I successfully filled a void, we’ll say that.”

“Oh please.” He laughed. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Yes I have,” he acknowledged, “thanks to you.”

“Well, you have been just a pleasure to work with.”

“Please let me pay you for the private vocal lessons you provided me, Dwight.”

He looked around the room to see if anyone had heard the conversation, then he placed his hand on Ben’s right arm. “You already paid last week, remember? You wrote me a check for the whole spring season.”

Ben looked confused. Then Dwight leaned in and whispered, “You’re not paying me for anything and don’t speak about this too loudly. I’ve got about five old ladies I am charging out the ass for their grandchildren’s lessons within twenty feet of us right now.”

“Ah, yes,” Ben whispered, “my apologies.”

Dwight stepped back and started laughing and smirking again. “Shall we continue on Tuesdays in preparation for the next performance?”

“Nice try,” Ben said. “I’m not committing to anything quite yet.”

“Oh please, you’re hooked now. I can tell it.”

“We’ll see. Seriously though, thank you for mentoring me. I really have gotten a lot out of it.”

“I know you have. Everybody gets something out of a lesson with me.”

Ben laughed. “Tone it down. I’d hate for you to come off as humble.”

“Well, you know me, I’d hate for anybody to notice my work,” he said sarcastically.

“Look, you’re a great friend, Dwight. Seriously, thank you for everything.”

“Jesus, please tone down the emotions here! Let’s have a good night. Say, why don’t you join me tonight for dinner at David’s?”

“Well, it’s going to be late probably and–”

“Oh please, you don’t have anything to do.”

Ben sighed. “Okay, okay but I will not stay too late. And I am not drinking wine with you tonight.”

“See you there at nine-thirty.”

Dwight immediately walked away as soon as the time and place were set and continued his politicking with the little old ladies and wealthy folk, taking in every compliment he could find. Ben made his way to the exit, and on to David’s Restaurant. David’s was the only fine dining in Freeden, and Dwight’s favorite place in town. He ate there every night except for Monday, and only because David’s was closed on Mondays.

Ben arrived at David’s around nine-thirty-five. He thought he was late, but Dwight was not there yet. Go figure. Dwight was sharp and on-time for serious things, but often in social settings preferred to show up fashionably late. Since they had become friends, Ben had regularly reminded Dwight he could be quite the diva – and Dwight never disagreed.

Finally, about fifteen minutes later, Dwight walked in the front glass door of the restaurant, and everyone in the building heard him talking on his phone as he belted out a recap of the concert to whoever was listening on the other end. Ben was already seated at Dwight’s table, the table that was reserved for him by restaurant owner David Ball for his every-night-other-than-Monday dinner. Ben sat in the seat that was usually left open at his table, as he knew better than to sit in Dwight’s seat.

Dwight walked to the table and joined him.

“Well, let me let you go, I’ve carried on long enough and I’m having dinner with a friend,” he said. “Why, yes,” he paused, “I’m at David’s, where else would I be for dinner?” He looked at Ben, smiling. This was one of Dwight’s happiest moments. Ben was happy for him. The night belonged to Dwight.

“Okay, yes, take care… okay… bye bye…yes.” He put his phone face down on the table. “My goodness, I’m finally here.” He looked down at his watch. “And shit, I’m late!”

“Sixteen minutes late to be exact,” Ben said.

“Well, damn, what did you expect? You know I’ve got to shake hands and kiss babies.”

“You did enough of it tonight to last a year.”

“Well, you know, I’ve got to kiss ass long enough for these people to think I like them,” he said.

Ben laughed. “Well, you really did a good job.”

“Thank you” he said hurriedly, then he raised his right hand, looked toward the bar and said loudly, “David, can I get a glass of that sauvignon blanc I like?”

David crept out of his chair next to the bar without uttering a word, and made his way to the wine shelf to pour Dwight a glass.

“So, did you enjoy it?” Dwight asked. “You know, performing?”

“I did. I really did. Kind of depressing to think it’s over.”

“For me, it’s on to the next one,” he said. “I do concerts nearly every other week. It’s just another concert to me. Though I will say, this is one of the bigger ones. So, will you be back for the fall chorus?”

“Eh, I believe I will.”

“Well, you should be. You did very well and you look like you had fun.”

“I did have fun.”

“Then you should do it again, no questions asked. Enough about that. That sounds like a commitment to me.”

Ben smirked and playfully rolled his eyes back.

“David, make that two glasses, will you?”

“No, no, no, I’m not a huge fan of wine anyway.”

“Well, you haven’t had this sauvignon blanc yet, so you really don’t know. And we all know you don’t know unless you’ve tried.”

Dwight was the kind of guy that should have been in sales; you could not tell him no. He wouldn’t let you turn him down, at least for long.

David brought two glasses to the table. “How’d the concert go?” he asked in his monotone, emotionless voice.

“Well, damn, David, I thought you’d never ask,” Dwight said. “Wonderful as always, though you weren’t there per usual.”

“How am I supposed to have dinner ready for you if I show up at your concert?” he asked.

“Good point. Let’s start with some fried cheese please.”

Every time Ben had dinner with Dwight, they started with the fried cheese.

“How are you doing, Ben?” Dwight asked. “You just don’t look yourself.”

“I’m okay.”

“Lies, lies, lies! I was not born yesterday. What is going on? We’re friends, I know something is up.”

“A lot of stress lately.”

“And why?”

“Dwight, let’s just celebrate.”

“I’ve done enough of that, what is going on with you?”

Ben sighed. “Well, if you insist. I asked Rachel to leave.”

“What?”

“Yes. She’s having an affair.”

“Not surprising.”

Ben chuckled. “Why would you say that?”

“There was no connection between you two. I could tell it. Didn’t want to disrespect you or your marriage, but I knew you weren’t happy.”

“Really?”

“Oh God, you had to be dead not to realize it. Look, I’ve seen how she looks at you. She doesn’t gaze at you with wonderment. With stars in her eyes. It just wasn’t there.”

“Fair observation, but why didn’t you tell me you noticed this before?”

“Did I have to?” he asked. “You knew you were miserable. Regardless, I’m glad you are relieved and moving on, if that’s what makes you happy. You deserve that.”

“I guess I’m worried about the fallout and what people may think of me.”

“When will you stop worrying about what other people think and start worrying about what Ben thinks? I mean, damn! You’ve got a great career and life, why worry so much about what everyone else thinks?”

In all fairness, no one had the right to say that more than Dwight. He could likely guess what people around Freeden really thought of him, but it never seemed to faze him.

“You know I’m going to take heat for leaving her,” Ben said. “I’m surprised Big Daddy Dan hasn’t already led a protest of my decision in the streets of downtown. Her father is a handful.”

“Oh, please,” Dwight paused to take a sip of wine, “it’s none of his damn business.”

“Well, I agree – but you work for him.”

“Stop right there.” He paused to take another sip. “I do not work for Dr. Henson. I don’t care if he’s the senior pastor, as far as I am concerned we are in different departments. Only thing I work for is the holy mother church of Freeden Baptist and Jesus Christ. And it does not matter what he thinks anyway. It’s bad advice to tell you that anything matters more than you doing what makes you happy.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” Ben said.

Ben took a sip of the wine.

“How is it?” Dwight asked.

“Not a big fan of sauvignon blanc, but probably the best I’ve had.”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “When it comes to wine and wisdom, listen to me. Look, you will find someone who loves you one day. Someone you can love.”

“I believe so.”

“You will,” he said. “And perhaps one day you will find a wine you love as well. Listen, let me tell you a story about how I found the one that had stars in his eyes for me.”

Ben discretely looked around the restaurant, nervous about who might notice Dwight telling what he expected to be a gay love story. He felt overwhelmed with guilt, though, that he was worried about who might be listening. Dwight was a real friend, and despite the overwhelming anti-gay sentiment that persisted in this area, he knew deep down that he should not be ashamed or nervous.

Dwight began. “Twenty years ago, I experienced a one-week rendezvous with a man named Rafael. He was a PhD candidate studying in Madrid, and we met on a cruise I took as a relaxing getaway along the Mediterranean coastline. I was having dinner one night and was seated with Rafael, and immediately thought he was the most gorgeous man I had ever cast my eyes upon. A lucid image of our first meeting with one another remains embedded in my memory; he wore slim-fit green pants with a predominately navy blue shirt, unbuttoned almost to below his mid-chest, with his hair neatly styled in a seemingly modern, gentleman’s cut and a hard part. I certainly expected he was gay.”

Ben always enjoyed Dwight’s stories, and as far as he could tell, no one was listening in, so his anxiety retreated. “Do you consider yourself able to detect that sort of thing – that he was gay?” Ben asked.

“Yes, you could say my ‘gaydar’ was going off.”

Ben burst into laughter. Dwight was not offended; after all, his intention was to make Ben laugh and enjoy the night, too. And this wasn’t the first time Dwight had referred to his ‘gaydar’.

“Is that right?” Ben asked, still laughing.

“Yes, yes,” Dwight said while chuckling himself, “but in all honesty, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions about Rafael’s identity, so I chose not to do so concerning Rafael despite my preliminary sentiments. I recall our first conversation. He was shy at first, but the more we talked the more I realized just how laid back and enticing he really was. At this point I had never told anyone other than my mother that I was gay, but the longer the night went on, the more I wanted to confess to him my sexuality. I desired so badly to unveil who I really was, to pleasure myself in relief that someone else other than my understanding and loving mother recognized my true sexual identity and accepted me for it.”

Ben was in a trance. He’d never thought about such things so deeply.

“So on that week-long cruise in the Mediterranean, my desire to unearth the man I truly am reached a climactic point. While having drinks soon after we met at the bar, I recall explicitly interrupting Rafael mid-conversation and saying, ‘I want you.’ He gazed at me with the most surprised look on his face. I was frightened at the thought of rejection, most notably because I had just made the boldest move of my life. He left me very little time to fear being denied, though, as I soon found myself in his room making intimate love with a man for the first time.”

“Well, the story you just told me sounds more like a glorified one-night stand with a fuck buddy.”

“Oh, you’re so silly,” Dwight said as they laughed together. “Not hardly, though. I woke up the next morning nestled against Rafael’s body, my head on his chest and my left arm draped over him, holding him. It was undoubtedly the single most liberating feeling I had ever experienced, far better than the sexual endeavors of the night before. It felt right to be embraced by a man. It did, in fact, feel natural. And I remember looking up at him as he gazed down at me. We loved one another from that point on.”

“Well, I can honestly say I have never had the privilege of meeting a woman and experiencing anything quite like that.”

“You just know when someone is right for you, Ben. We spent the next several years, visiting occasionally, each time growing stronger in our relationship. I loved him, and he loved me. We had stars in our eyes for one another. Rachel never had that for you.”

“Do you think I had that for her?”

“No. She was a prize, not a lover.”

“A prize?”

“Oh please, Ben, you have spent the last ten years worrying about what everyone else thinks of you. The idea of marrying the daughter of the pastor of the holy mother church’s very own Dr. Dan Henson and building a reputation here in that kind of power family… that was golden to you once before.”

“I would not have married for a prize. That’s ridiculous, Dwight.”

“Look, I know you’re an intellectual and an accomplished attorney, okay? But you’ve got about as much common sense when it comes to women as this wall behind me.”

“Oh, go to hell, Dwight,” he said. The comment made Dwight laugh.

“I’ve had too much to drink tonight, three glasses of wine at the reception and I’m on my second glass here, so I’ll just let that little dig slide.” Dwight then looked toward the bar and saw David sitting in his chair behind it. “David, when is the fried cheese coming? I mean, damn, we would like to eat today,” he said, continuing to laugh and carry on.

“You haven’t gotten the fried cheese yet?”

“No,” Dwight said.

David blew air with disgust, then rose from his chair. Both Ben and Dwight knew what was about to happen. Dwight’s remark was made in jest, but David could be an ill-spirited man and was clearly irritated that he had to get up from his chair to whip his staff into shape. He walked to the kitchen door, opened it, and yelled, “Where is the goddamned fried cheese?” Seconds later, the waitress came from the kitchen with the appetizer dish and walked it over to Dwight and Ben.

“I’m so sorry, gentlemen,” she said.

Ben felt sorry for her. Dwight shared the sentiment, and he worried that he should not have made the joke and subjected the young lady to David’s wrath.

“It’s quite all right, don’t worry about it at all,” Ben said to the server before she turned and walked away.

Ben focused his attention back on Dwight.

Dwight took another sip of wine, then leaned in toward Ben and whispered, “David can be a real asshole.”

“You think?”

Dwight started eating the dish.

“Look, I want to know what you meant by what you said?”

“Oh, about Rachel? Yeah, I don’t think you really loved her.”

“I think I did at one point, some kind of love that is. I surely wasn’t ‘in love’, I’ll admit that. But looking back at it… well, the reality is that I think we were just great friends for a while, you know? That was the extent of it. But I don’t really believe she ever loved me either. I mean, she claims she did, and still does for that matter, but I… I just don’t buy it anymore. Nor will I again.”

“So you’re really done with Rachel this time?” he asked.

“Don’t say that too loud, Dwight,” Ben replied. “I don’t want people to hear you. Folks are either going to judge me for ditching the daughter of the great Dr. Dan Henson, or they will judge me for putting up with her shit for this long. They’ll think poorly of me either way.”

Dwight stared at Ben, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Ben, the only reason I’d think poorly of you is if you continued to put up with that shit,” he said. “To be a criminal defense attorney, a profession that really is subjected to ridicule merely for defending people who society pre-determines as guilty regardless of whether they are or not – how have you made it this far being so concerned about what people think of you?”

“My entire reputation has hinged on what I have done in this community and the career I have built,” he replied sharply, “and if it will be torn down, I want it to be torn down by something I have done, not something I have been a victim of.”

“Your reputation is not at risk just because your soon-to-be ex-wife is a slut,” he said in that typically bold, Dwight-like way. “Stop worrying about it and started living your life how you want it to be, not how everyone else wants it to be.”

Ben knew Dwight was right. Anytime anyone suggested to Ben, in some variation, this same advice, Ben always recognized it as true but ultimately refuted it in favor of his old, worrisome ways.

“Hear you loud and clear,” Ben said.

“I do love you, my good friend.”

“Yeah, yeah. I reckon I love you, too.”

It was a big step for Ben to say that aloud, particularly in a public place, but he truly did love Dwight like a brother. Dwight was a good friend to Ben, and despite his pointedness and honesty, Ben cared for him. The bond, nonetheless, was in Ben’s mind tarnished by his unwillingness to be comfortable spending time in the public with a man who identified as gay. He was fine now, but that’s because no one he knew was watching.

Ben wondered what kind of friend he could truly be to Dwight if he was so wrapped up in protecting his own image that he was ashamed to spend time with Dwight in public, to be seen with a gay man in public, or to talk about his personal problems with a friend in fear that others would judge him. He knew it was a ridiculous to feel the way he did, but his nearly unblemished image as a professional with few personal problems had built the reputation of all-American guy that he held onto today. He constantly feared losing his reputation and career, which he felt was the only thing he really possessed anymore that held worth.

But like Dwight’s cruise ship experience, something felt liberating to Ben about telling this gay man, who was a dear friend, that he loved him. It certainly had nothing to do with Ben’s sexuality; he was undeniably a straight man, but the feeling of voicing admiration for a man who regularly received nothing shy of ugly stares and judgement from people who didn’t know him proved redemptive. Dwight meant the world to him, and as sharp as he could be, Ben still knew the man truly cared about him.

“You know, I could be home alone right now,” Ben said. “But I’m not. Thanks for keeping me busy during this time.”

“Keeping you busy? Hell, I figured you were here because you felt sorry for me.”

Ben laughed again.

“Hey, thank you for celebrating with me,” Dwight said.

They both enjoyed the fried cheese until it was all gone. Then they shared stories and reflected on each other’s past, garnering interest from both sides. Dwight had an incredible curiosity about Ben; he possessed an incredible work ethic, showed focus in everything he did, and was perhaps more driven and ambitious than anyone Dwight had ever met. Dwight admired this about Ben since there were so few people in the area who believed they could make themselves better like Ben did. Ben believed that if he wanted to make more money and have a better career, he would have to earn it and work for it, a trait that so few people in Freeden seemed to share.

Dwight worried about Ben, though. Practically nothing in Ben’s personal life ever strayed along a narrow, routine path. His life was constantly in turmoil with spousal infidelity, extended family in and out of jail, parents who had died at an early age, and a sister who had died from a drug overdose after years of abuse. Dwight did not befriend Ben because he felt sorry for him, but he often did, in fact, feel pained for the sorrows he had endured. While he joked about Ben’s love and passion for his career, he recognized it was a real situation and that one day Ben would likely regret spending so much time working and not building relationships and friendships with people.

Ben, too, worried about his lack of relationships, though he would often cast it off, only for the same grave concerns of being alone at an old age to resurface later. This, Ben thought, was what Dwight and he had most in common: separated from one another, they were very alone. People admired the both of them for their talents, but for various reasons resented them as people. In Dwight’s case, his sexual identity was not welcome in this rural Southern town, and in Ben’s case, his financial success, all a result of his established legal career, was viewed with distaste by his local peers who barely made ends meet while watching him enjoy the successes of never worrying about when the next paycheck would come. Ben believed this was why he and Dwight connected, that he and Dwight both needed real friendship. In this moment, as he sipped on his sauvignon blanc which he didn’t like, Ben realized that Dwight was truly a breath of fresh air in his life.

Ben took another sip of his wine, and suddenly, a loud noise captured his and Dwight’s attention at the entrance to the restaurant.

The glass front door swung open as Freeden police officers barged into the dining room as if they were diffusing a hostage situation. The police officers made their way into the building, ten of them, marching toward Dwight and Ben’s table. The one in the front, who was Chief Gary McDowell, walked up to their table, his officers behind him. “Dwight Kerry?”

“Yes?” Dwight answered.

“You are under arrest for the rape and murder of Braxton Jones. You have the right to remain silent.”

And silent he was.