Poking the Bear

I glanced away. For some stupid reason, I wasn't as creeped out as I should have been.

I made my way back into the bedroom. Alana was leaning on her elbow on her bed. She plucked an earbud from her ear when she saw me enter. Her eyes went right to the cold cans in my arms.

"Dude, one would have been plenty," she told me.

I scoffed. "Yeah. Said no one ever. I just grabbed four, settle down."

Alana rolled her eyes and sat up to accept one of the seltzers from me. I set the extra drinks on her dresser and cracked open the can in my hand. I stepped over toward the bed, wondering if Alana had even heard her father and I chatting downstairs.

"Ran into your dad in the kitchen," I said.

Alana froze mid gulp. Her eyes flitted up and down my body wildly.

"Crap," she said. "Did he do anything embarrassing?"

My mouth fell open, but I quickly locked my lips. I tilted my head, glancing away.

"No," I answered. "He's... he's cool."

I saw her visibly relax.

"He's really loud," I noted, trying to steer the conversation.

Alana nodded. "Yeah, I know. Be glad that you never had to go to weddings or funerals with him. He will say whatever he feels like saying, too."

I sipped the seltzer. "I get that."

Alana narrowed her eyes at me.

"Of course you do," she said. "No, I warned him not to act weird around you. Whether he remembered or not... I don't know."

I nodded, tightening my lips together.

"Good to know," I said.

****

Alana snored.

I'd always known that, but it was painfully obvious as I sat up in the bed next to her. She wasn't even under the covers. Halfway through the movie we'd started watching, I had to pluck her second seltzer can from her hands as she dozed away. I was still sitting up against the pillows behind me, sliding my finger endlessly across my phone screen.

The movie had gone off. The images on the little flat screen on the wall were a slow scroll of silent advertisements. I considered finding something else to stream, but there was no way I'd be able to hear the TV. Every single breath Alana drew in became a loud rattle and groan. I tried borrowing her earbuds and watching videos on my phone. It was useless. I couldn't focus on a single thing. I grinned and shook my head, still swiping through my phone.

I wasn't tired at all. I'd finished my drinks and downed Alana's seltzer beer as well. After the drive we'd taken earlier to get here, I didn't feel like sitting or lying down. I wanted to walk around, stretch out, or do anything. The feeling still hadn't gone away. Maybe I was excited for the weekend. It'd be nice to see all of our friends together and get rowdy again. The year prior was a blast. I hoped this year could be the same. We were only getting older.

I was trying to decide whether or not to go downstairs and sit outside on the deck. I'd always liked the nighttime. Even if there were a million crickets and frogs, they'd never be as loud as Alana. Maybe I could watch something on my phone out there until I got sleepy. The ambience would be far superior.

I couldn't help but wonder if Wayne was still downstairs.

It was the only thing that gave me pause. I wasn't afraid of running into him. It still felt odd sleuthing around someone else's house at night. After what had happened in the kitchen, I wasn't sure if another encounter with Alana's father was wise. I couldn't get over what he'd said. Katy had short dark hair that she sometimes fastened behind her head. I could see how maybe we'd look alike. That was still such a stretch.

Did he smack her on the ass when she came over? Alana and Katy didn't hang around one another like they used to, but did she really not mind for Wayne to touch her that way? I wondered if Alana knew. I didn't want to make things awkward the rest of the weekend by tipping her off to what her father had done, and possibly done in the past. I'd overlooked plenty of people in my lifetime that were a lot worse than that.

I climbed from the bed and headed across the hall to the bathroom. I shut the door as quietly as possible, even though I knew Alana wasn't waking up anytime soon. I relieved myself and paused in front of the mirror on the way back to the door. Examining myself, I tried to solve the riddle in my head that just kept bugging me. I tried to picture myself the way Wayne had seen me.

I'd washed my face earlier after what Alana had told me about her dad. It was better to not make waves, although now I did not get the impression that Wayne would have cared. The foundation was gone, but of course the darkness still outlined my eyes. The white tshirt I wore was tight fitting on my slender body, but I still looked like a guy, no matter how "fem" I appeared. The sides of my head were freshly shaved, and the hair on top of my head was laid back neatly. Maybe my hair was long enough to look like Katy's, pulled back behind her head.

I was bent over. That's how Wayne had seen me.

I knew that. It was obvious. But it wasn't like my ass was the only thing he could've seen. I knew for a fact Alana told him I would be staying here, me, not Katy or anyone else. We'd never met, but he had to know who I was.

Did he know when he slapped my ass?

I stared at the little shorts I wore. I couldn't help twist my hips to look at my backside. I missed plenty of days at the gym, but the shorts looked and felt great. Maybe Wayne thought so too. There was no way he thought I was Katy bent over at the fridge. If he were bold enough to do that to Katy, or claim to, maybe he was bold enough to give me a good swat as well.

Just thinking about it made me blush. It was as if I could still feel that big meaty hand on my ass. I couldn't shake the thought that he knew exactly who was bent over at the fridge. The act itself was appalling. It was the kind of thing people pressed charges for nowadays. Wayne was clearly apologetic afterward, but was that even genuine? It made my skin crawl thinking of him planting his big hand on Katy's ass.

Why didn't it make my skin crawl knowing he did it to me?

I didn't even let the thoughts form. I shook my head to clear the nasty little critters from my mind and swatted the light switch off. When I left the bathroom, I decided to grab another seltzer and chill out on the back porch. I wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon. Alana would scold me in the morning if she had to drag my ass out of bed, but I knew with the help of a few more beers, the bed would feel like a cloud, with or without my best friend's tumultuous snoring.

I made it down about three steps in the darkness when I noticed the light from downstairs. The TV was still on in the living room. I eased my way down the stairs slowly, thankful for the carpet that softened each step. When the stairway walls opened up to the rooms below, my eyes darted toward the big recliner.

Wayne was still sprawled in the chair, with his huge arms bent behind his head. I couldn't tell if he was asleep in the recliner or not. His head still faced the TV. I didn't stop descending, but I still stepped carefully. I made it to the landing at the bottom. The back door was straight ahead. I thought about skipping the beer and heading right outside. When I stole another glance into the living room, I saw Wayne's head tilt in my direction.

His eyes were open. I knew he saw me.

I acted as though I didn't notice him and turned to my right into the kitchen. It was no big deal. The guy had said to make myself at home. That included a late night kitchen visit, right? I couldn't help but wonder if he simply observed me come down the stairs and walk into the kitchen, or if he watched me.

I shook my head. What the fuck was wrong with me? If Alana could hear my thoughts she'd be choking me. I opened the fridge and bent to retrieve another beer from the drawer. I hurried as I did so, and yet in the few seconds it took me to grab the seltzer, I imagined Wayne standing behind me admiring my ass as I bent over.

I turned to find the kitchen empty. I had to get a grip. I couldn't believe I was that affected by what had happened earlier. Pulling on the tab atop the can as gently as I could, I let it hiss before peeling the lid open. The gulps I took went down quickly. I stared toward the back door. I considered just going back to the room. No. I was down here. I was going out on the deck to just sit and sip my drink. I made my way out of the kitchen, staring at my feet as I walked, and headed toward the back door.

"You got trouble sleeping at night, too?"

The baritone voice from the living room pulled my attention right to the recliner. Wayne was still leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. I could see his grin from across the room. I paused, turning to face him.

I motioned up the stairs. "Uh, there's a chainsaw running in the bed beside me."

It surprised me when Wayne cackled heartily, his mouth falling open as he leaned forward and reached for his beer on the table beside him.

"Hey, I ain't sayin' a thing," Wayne said still snickering. "Girl gets it honest, I'm telling you. I still think my snoring was actually the first reason Linda started sleeping in another room years back."

It felt like I was standing at a fork in the road. The back door was right there. Tapping my fingers on the rail of the stairs, I sipped from the flavored beer in my hand and debated silently.

"Linda was... Alana's mom?" I asked.

Wayne finished a deep swig of beer and wiped his goatee.

"Yeah, she was a bitch," he answered. "She ran out on us a long time ago. Alana won't speak bad about her but I don't tell no lies."

The words were blunt, but I actually found it refreshing. It made me linger just a bit longer.

"You guys gotta' get up early tomorrow?" Wayne asked me.

I shrugged. "Not really. Alana will anyway. They won't open the gates until about noon. We'd be sitting in a hot car either way."

"It's a concert, right?" Wayne asked. His voice was still not quiet, though when he tried to speak in low tone it sounded like crunching gravel.

I found myself stepping into the living room. I wasn't sure why, it just felt odd to be standing at the stairs talking. I knew Alana wouldn't hear us, but the dark room lit only by the TV made me feel as though I should keep my voice down the way Wayne was doing.

"It's a music festival," I answered. "It started a few years ago. There's a bunch of us that have been going every year. We kind of made it a tradition."

Wayne nodded. "That's cool. What kind of music is it?"

"Nothing I think you'd know," I said. Then I cringed. "Actually, nothing I would know either. It's indie stuff, and folk, and electronica. Dance music, I guess."

"Yeah, I know," Wayne said with a smile. "It's about cutting loose, ain't it."

I let myself grin back at him in the dimly lit room.

"Mostly," I said.

There were a few seconds of silence where I considered saying goodnight to the man and retreating from the room. Instead I stared at the crime documentary playing on the TV. Just when I thought the silence was the most awkward thing, Wayne spoke again.

"Sorry about that introduction earlier, man," he said. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I don't know what I was thinking."

I quickly shook my head. "It's fine. I forgot all about it."

I studied Wayne to see if he bought the lie. The guy sat forward in his chair as if to lean closer to me.

"I just saw that ass at the fridge and went all caveman," Wayne said.

I stared back at him in disbelief for several seconds. Something about the way he said it was so carefree and open. I froze. I had no response even ready for that. Wayne was grinning through his goatee as he spoke.

"It sure fooled me, man," Wayne went on. "You need to warn a fella' if you're gonna have that on display, dude."

A smile split across my face. Laughter burst from my lips. I tried to seal it away behind my palm.

I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment. It was so absurd that Wayne had actually said that to me. Maybe I should have been disgusted. I wasn't. I couldn't be. He was so playful about it that I could only file it away as the strangest compliment I'd ever received. I became hyper aware of the way I was dressed. I still wore the little shorts. I felt like at any moment, the older guy's eyes might have been sizing me up.

"Um, I'll try to be more careful, I guess," I said, still reeling from hysteria.

"Nah, rock it, brother," Wayne said, scooting to the edge of his recliner. "Speaking of the fridge, I'm gonna grab me another one of these."

I watched the guy steady himself. He squared his huge legs before shifting to one side, putting the weight toward a single knee. Before he even tried to stand, I could tell he was favoring a certain leg. Wayne wasn't morbidly obese, he was just a big guy. I could see time was beginning to take its toll on him.

"I'll grab it," I offered. "I'm already up."

It seemed like the polite thing to do. But why? I said the words before I could even stop them.

Wayne looked up at me. "Shit, you don't have to do that man."

I turned before he could argue much more.

"Just one beer?" I asked, already walking toward the kitchen.

"Yeah, thanks," Wayne said. "There's some stronger stuff in the liquor cabinet but I got work in the morning. Sure don't need that shit. You're welcome to it, if you want."

When I walked away, I couldn't help but wonder. Maybe it was too dark for him to see. In seconds I was returning with a fresh frosty bottle. I stepped over to the recliner and offered it to the man. Standing there even for a few seconds made me feel so exposed. My legs were on full display. Some deep part of me forced my eyes to scan Wayne's, if only to see if he'd look down at my legs. He only gave me a grin and accepted the bottle.

"Thanks, Jamie," he said.

As I turned, I felt the forks in the road appear in my mind again. It seemed rude to just walk out of the room again and head outside or upstairs. Looking at the couch made me feel just weird, though. I didn't dwell on it long. I still had a full beer to wash down, and it didn't seem like I had much else going on. Maybe an odd late night conversation with Alana's dad was just the right level of weird that I was after.

I took a seat in the middle of the couch. I sipped my beer, staring at the documentary on the glaring screen above the fireplace. As Wayne popped the top off of his bottle and took a few sips of the beer, I stole a few glances at the man. His arms were just huge. Though there was a bit of excess here and there on his body, his arms looked as though they were made of rocks. Even in the bluish light of the TV, I could see how dark his complexion was. Only long days in the sunlight tanned a person that way. The color went all the way to the shaven sides of his head.

"You guys crashing here tomorrow night, too?" Wayne asked me.

I nodded. "Last year we tried the camping thing. It did not go so well. I think some of the others are still pitching a tent, but Alana and I plan on coming back here."

"Back door's always unlocked," Wayne told me. "Doesn't matter what hour."

"Thanks," I said. "It'll be nice to crash in a bed after being out there all day."

Wayne snickered.

"Where's the fun in that?" The guy said. "You know the endgame is to wind up high as hell on top of some stranger in a tent all night."

I turned my head slowly to look at him. I couldn't suppress the smile that was trying to form on my face. Wayne's eyes were cut over at me as he grinned. I'd gotten so used to being the most offensive person in the room that it floored me to be on the receiving end.

"I know how it is, man," Wayne added. "Don't be bashful if you need to sneak a girl in here."

I kept staring at him. I let my half smirking expression remain fixed on him until Wayne finally looked over at me. I let the silence do the talking.

Wayne shook his head and chuckled.

"Shit, I'm sorry, man," he said. "Forgot you, uh, go the other way."

I smiled, shaking my head, and turned back to the TV. At least he was aware. I knew that Alana had told him before, and it wasn't as if I hid it very well.

"You get any action out there?" Wayne asked. "Gotta be slimmer pickings with the boys, right?"

I shifted on the couch. I shot a glance over my shoulder toward the stairs. There was no way Alana would hear the conversation. The question itself made me nervous. Wayne was sprawled back, the bottom of his beer resting on his big stomach. It was any other Thursday to him, I realized.

What would it hurt to play along?

"I do okay," I said. "Did Molly with a guy last year and gave him a handjob right in the crowd."

Why did I tell him that? It was as if Wayne's way of speaking was contagious. Just bringing up the incident to someone like him sent goosebumps shooting across my skin. I kept my eyes on the TV screen and took a few big gulps from the can in my hand.

"No shit?" Wayne said. "How'd you even manage that?"

I looked back at him. I'd never met someone his age that seemed so casual talking to me about... things like this. There was no judgement on his face. He just kept grinning and watching me.

I licked my lips, feeling a sudden thrill from the chance to tell Wayne more.

"It was nighttime," I explained. "I just, uh... unzipped him and stayed close. I don't think anyone even noticed. With that many people crammed together, and everyone is even higher than you are, it's not hard to get away with stuff like that."

Wayne smiled and shook his head.

"Damn," he said. "To be young again."

I sipped my beer again. The can had grown light in my hand very quickly. I turned another habitual glance over my shoulder toward the stairs before I studied Wayne. I started to wonder if the booze was loosening his tongue. It didn't seem that way. It floored me that he was even discussing this with me. He didn't even seem worried that his own daughter would be out on the festival grounds around drugs and strangers possibly doing the exact things we discussed. It was like he just... understood.

I'd always thought Alana's dad would be strict or old fashioned. He certainly had no filter. I could see why she'd warned me, and I did feel uncomfortable sitting there on the couch, but for completely different reasons than I'd have ever thought.

I lifted my legs and tucked my feet beneath me. I was barely leaning to one side. I snuck yet another glance at the stairs. I should have been ashamed. I knew exactly what I was doing. Alana was asleep, which made it easier to not care. I shifted myself so that one whole side of my thigh was facing the recliner.

It started to feel like a game. I just wanted to play a bit longer.

"Did you ever do stuff like that, Wayne?" I asked.

Wayne was looking at me. It killed me not being able to see where his eyes were staring. Part of his square face was shadowed in the light of the TV.

"Concerts? Oh sure," he replied. "I seen Ozzy several times. Quiet Riot back in the day. Been to see AC/DC more times than I can count."

I licked my lips. I realized I was taking the darkest fork in the road. I just didn't care anymore.

"I meant, like, other things," I said. "In public?"

Wayne stared at me for a bit, but eventually snickered.

"What kind of things you mean?" Wayne said.

I couldn't tell if he was playing along. Either way, he was going to make me say it. I finished the seltzer, hoping to drudge up the confidence.

"Like... getting a handjob in public, for instance?" I said.

Wayne scoffed, but still wore a big smile. I forced myself to watch him. His big body shifted in the recliner. I saw one of his legs open a bit. His big fingers pulled at a spot near his thigh.

"Hell, plenty of times when I was younger," Wayne answered. "When I went on the road working before I got hitched, I got pretty wild. Been several times I had girls bent over in a bathroom stall at some bar or another."