Blue Guys

By Rob Darnell

Copyright ©2024

The Blue Jays played a good game, beating Kansas City 7-2. I pointed the remote at the TV and shut it off. I felt satisfied, though a touch of sadness at the same time. The game was over.

Baseball. The game. The Blue Jays. During the spring, summer and fall, the baseball games were my favorite pastime activity. I rarely missed a game. On days when there wasn’t a game on, I’d feel at odds with myself, unsettled, out-of-sorts, or whatever you call it.

I got up from the couch, exited my living room and entered t he kitchen. There was a plate, a glass and a couple of pans on the counter beside the sink. Supper today had been chicken with a few side dishes.

I’m a pretty good cook. But lately I’ve only had myself to cook for.

#

There was Kevin. We met on the streetcar. I’d been reading a book and Kevin had wondered what book it was. I flashed the cover at him. He grinned, but admitted that he had never heard of the author or the book.

Kevin later admitted that he wasn’t really interested in the book. What he was interested in was me.

Our relationship lasted six months. Kevin and I broke up three weeks ago. I wasn’t over it. Sure, I’m one of those guys who shows on the outside, happiness and confidence.

But on the inside, I’m hurting. I’m crying on the inside. Outside, no tears. Inside, lots of tears. Sometimes I close my eyes just to shut out the world that is full of agony. That is the world without Kevin. The world that is hard to bear.

Kevin wasn’t my first boyfriend. There was Terry, Malcolm, Bryan, Jake, Sid and so on. I’ve been in and out of relationships since I was a teenager. But nothing that had lasted long. Was it me? Or was it the guys I chose? I think it was me. Why wouldn’t it be? Those were good guys. All of them.

But Kevin was the latest. I had wanted to believe that I finally found my lifelong mate, someone who I could wake up next to years from now. Kevin was seventeen years younger than me. At thirty-eight, he was still really freaking cute. I wanted our relationship to last, I believed he did too.

He didn’t.

Kevin, with his bright blond hair, had run off with a guy named Kane. Maybe it was Kane’s winning smile and the fact that he was still in his twenties that made him so irresistible to Kevin. Or maybe Kevin just didn’t have strong enough feelings for me. Probably the latter.

I loved Kevin and he broke my heart, just like all the guys before him.

#

I got up at 7:00 in the morning. That’s my wakeup time Monday through Friday. I am a working stiff after all.

I’m usually ready by 7:30. My work uniform isn’t much, just a t-shirt and jeans during the warm seasons. A yellow hardhat is also applied. And work boots.

Right! You g uessed it. I’m a construction worker.

I left my apartment and made it to the corner in time to board the streetcar. The streetcar took me across town.

I stepped off the streetcar and walked three blocks. The jobsite was a large eight-story hotel that the owners wanted restored. I donned my hardhat as I climbed the concrete steps. I passed through the threshold into the lobby.

#

Calvert Enzo was a big guy. He was loud, obnoxious and one of the hardest working people I know.

He was also my foreman.

“Fisher!” Calvert shouted from across the lobby. “Come on, we need your help.”

I crossed the lobby, taking care to avoid the portion of the floor t hat wasn’t there. Calvert led me through a threshold and along the hallway. The hallway came to an intersection. Calvert turned and I followed. Soon we were at the rear of the hotel. There were two guys waiting, one of them I didn’t know. The guy I did know was Randall Buick.

Randall was a rod of a man. Standing, he probably reached the height of six feet and seven inches. He had a thin face, short-cut hair and a perfectly trimmed beard that covered most of his face. Flannel shirts and blue jeans were his usual garment. Randall was a friendly, soft spoken guy.

On the floor of the large room was a newly built wall frame. I understood then that the four of us were going to lift the wall frame into place.

“Mike and Eddie, take that side.” Calvert pointed to the left end of the frame. “Me and Randall will tak e this side.”

I moved to the left side of the frame where Eddie, the guy I didn’t know, was waiting. I pegged Eddie to be in his mid-forties. He had blond hair and a fairly average built. I’d say I outweighed him by at least fifty pounds.

Eddie and I squatted side by side. Calvert and Randall did the same on the other end of the wall frame.

“Everyone got a hold?” Calvert asked.

“Yes,” Eddie and I said at the same time.

“All right,” Calvert said. “Liiift!”

Calvert was already lifting his end of the frame, Randall assisting. I lifted. Eddie lifted. The four of us heaved the wall frame off the floor. About two dozen two-by -fours were used to build the wall frame. That’s a heavy load.

The back wall of the room had been torn out and thick plastic separated the room from the back lot. Gusts ballooned the plastic inward. We stood the wall frame up and held it in place.

“Hold it steady,” Calvert said. He let go of his end of the wall and grabbed up a nail gun. He popped a dozen nails into the right end of the wall, securing it to the post that was already there.

Randall let go of the frame and gathered up a socket wrench and bolts. He began further securing the wall frame to the post.

Calvert came to mine and Eddie’s side of the wall frame and fired off another dozen nails.

I grabbed up a socket wrench and bolts. The holes had been pre-drilled through the two-by-four on the end of the wall frame, and those holes were perfectly in line with holes in the post. Screwing the bolts in wasn’t too difficult, but the farther in they went the more muscle was required to work the socket wrench.

I put in six bolts. Two at the top. Two in the middle. Two on the bottom. By the time I’d tightened in the last bolt, my arms were dead and the day had only just begun.

“Yeah, that’ll get you,” Eddie said when he saw me rubbing my upper arm. His mouth spread into a beautiful grin that went well with his goatee.

I grinned back. Whoever this guy was, he was a real charmer. A quality that was sometimes remarkable and sometimes dangerous.

“I need to rest for a bit,” I said. I was glad Calvert was no longe r in the room. If he saw me taking a seat on the stack of plywood, he would come up with something that he wanted done immediately.

#

Eddie Dunn. That was his name. He gave it to me and we shook hands. Before we released each other’s hand, I remembered to give him my name.

Eddie was a handsome cut from the stock. Not boyish looking at all. He was manly and mature, confident and strong in all the right ways. He was the kind of guy who seemed impossible to find. Or if you did find such a guy, he was already taken.

I glanced at Eddie’s left hand. I was surprised when I didn’t see a wedding band. How was it possible that no woman had him tied down yet?

When Eddie admitted he was a Blue Jay fan, we ended up talking up a storm. The reason I hadn’t met him before is he had started working for the company just a few days ago. He was new on our crew, but he wasn’t exactly unknown. Several of the guys had known Eddie for a long time.

As our shift came to an end, Eddie invited me to meet him at the bar after work.

#

I had never been to Craig’s Place before. The bar wasn’t exactly a dump, but it wasn’t very remarkable either. It was two blocks down and five blocks over from the jobsite. The streetcar took me most of the way.

The light was dim. I was halfway across the room, feeling lost, when a hand went up at the bar. There was an overhead light and I recognized Eddie. I made my way to him.

“Glad you could come,” Eddie said. He nodded to the TV on the wall behind the bar.

The TV was on SNET.

“This isn’t a sports bar,” Eddie explained. “But a lot of patrons are Blue Jay fans.”

“The game isn’t on for a couple more hours,” I said as I sat down on the stool next to Eddie.

A large, bald man stepped in front of me. He studied me with a fierce expression on his face. I had an urge to get off the stool and slowly back away from the bar. But Eddie came to my rescue.

“This is Craig Molder,” Eddie said, gesturing to the mean looking man on the other side of the bar. “Craig, this is Mike Fisher.”

“How you doin’?” Craig ask ed and reached his hand over the bar toward me.

I didn’t hesitate long before taking Craig’s hand and shaking it.

“You want a beer?” Craig asked.

“Yeah,” I said and nodded. “Sure.”

“Any preference?”

“Do you have the lime-flavored Bud Light?”

Craig nodded and turned around. A moment later he placed an open bottle in front of me.

I’m not much of a beer drinker. When I do have a beer, I like it light and flavory. Something with a fruit juice satisfaction. The Bud Light Limes were the beers that did that for me these days.

Someone took the stool on my left. When I turned and looked, I was surprised to see Calvert Enzo. Calvert had a dark beer in his hand. He looked at me and nodded.

“Hi Mike,” he said, and then his attention went to the TV on the wall.

I had never seen Calvert in a friendly light before. He was always the boss, and a tough cookie. He was someone who gave orders and expected them to be carried out. But here, tonight, I realized that Calvert was just a regular guy. Being a boss was his job. But off the job, Calvert wasn’t a boss.

I lifted my beer and had a drink. I looked at the TV, but all that was on at the moment was sport news.

“Do you guys watch the game here every night?” I asked. I immediately felt like an idiot once the words were out of my mouth.

 Eddie looked from the TV to me.

“Sometimes,” he said, “but not very often.”

“What about dinner?” I asked. I was getting hungry.

“Craig’s got a kitchen in the back,” Eddie said and jabbed a finger toward the threshold behind the bar. “He makes a few things. Chicken wings, hamburgers, steak sandwiches. You should try the steak sandwich. It’s the best in town.”

#

And I did. I had Craig’s steak sandwich. Two of them, actually. And we stayed and watched the game. Well, Calvert left after the first inning, but Eddie and I stayed.

We talked, not only about baseb all, but about a variety of things. I found out that Eddie had been married. He had two kids, too. But he and his wife split up eight years ago.

Eddie showed me pictures of his kids. A boy and a girl. They were now aged nineteen and seventeen.

The game ended with the Blue Jays losing by one run. I could have caught the streetcar, but Eddie offered to drive me home.

#

Eddie was the perfect gentleman. He didn’t just drop me off. He went with me into the building and up to my apartment. I invited him inside, but he politely declined, citing the late hour.

Eddie stepped closer to me, kissed me on the mouth, and then turned to go.

#

I stepped into the a partment and closed the door behind me. My apartment was dark, save for a sliver of streetlight that found its way through the curtains. There was a lamp within reach, but I didn’t feel like turning it on.

Of all the things Eddie and I talked about tonight, we had not talked about that. I hadn’t even revealed that my past relationships were with men, not women. And yet, somehow Eddie knew.

I stood at the door for several minutes, replaying the moment over and over in my head. Eddie had stepped toward me, tilted his head and kissed me on the lips. Eddie’s goatee had tickled my face. He stepped back, gave me a cool smile, turned and walked off.

#

I barely slept, but I was up early for work, feeling fresh and eager. I caught the streetcar and made it to the jobsite on time.

When I entered the hotel, I noticed something was different. The guys were working. I could bear hammers striking nails, drills and saws. Men grunted as they lifted things.

What I didn’t hear was the usual swearing, complaining and chit-chat. I also didn’t hear Calvert yelling orders. No one was saying much.

I went up to the second floor. There I found Calvert and Randall. They were building a wall frame. Both men were quiet.

Calvert looked up and saw me.

“Stick around,” he said, his tone gentle. “We’re almost done. We’ll need you to help us stand it up.”

I nodded. This wall frame wasn’t as large as the one we lifted yesterday. Three me n should be able to stand it up without too much trouble.

Randall measured a two-by-four, used the tablesaw to cut off a few inches, and then he and Calvert fitted the two-by-four into the frame. Calvert secured the two-by-four with nails.

“All right,” Calvert said. “That’s it.”

Calvert moved to one side of the wall frame. Randall moved to the other side. I stood at the middle.

We lifted the frame and stood it between two other frames. Calvert used the nail gun to secure the frame. Randall and I screwed in the bolts.

When we were done, I turned to Calvert.

“Is something going on?” I asked him. “Everyone’s quiet today.”

“You didn’t hear?” Calvert asked.

“Didn’t hear what?” I couldn’t think of any recent news that would have this kind of effect on the guys. Was there a terrorist attack?

“Eddie Dunn,” Calvert said. “You met him yesterday.”

I did more than meet Eddie yesterday. I practically had a date with him, one that ended with a romantic goodnight kiss. I felt like a teenager again.

“What about him?” I asked Calvert.

“Some guys jumped Eddie last night while he was pumping gas,” Calvert said. “They beat him bad. He died in the hospital.”

I had never felt my energy drain so fast. I stood with my arms hanging at my sides and stared ahead at nothing. When I didn’t say anything else, Calvert turned away and went to find some work to do.

I didn’t move. Not for a long time. And no one bothered me.

#

 I went to Craig’s Place after work. I sat at the bar, on the same stool I sat on last night. I had a steak sandwich and lime-flavored Bud Light.

The Blue Jays played their third game against Kansas City.

About Rob Darnell:

Rob Darnell has work published in different magazines and anthologies. He loves sports. His favorite teams are the Detroit Tigers, Lions, Pistons, Red Wings and the Michigan Wolverines, His website is RobDarnell.com.

Blue Guys was inspired by things Rob heard from the LGBTQ+ community and the media. Rob is a heterosexual male and hopes he is not committing any form of cultural appropriation with this story.