……
THE CAMPOUT
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: …. This story will make a lot more sense if you first read my story, ‘WRESTLING WITH PJ, CH 1.’)
I was exhausted after the match. We laid on the bank of the swimming hole relaxing. Kenny didn’t monopolize the conversation, but channeled the match with his photographic memory. Donny and Eric gave us rub downs, as they recounted the match showing us video parts.
I was near dozing off when PJ said, “Guys, listen up. Let’s take Mike back to the house, and camp out on the hill tonite like we used to do with Jamie. What do you say? Eric, get permission from your dad, and Kenny, get one of your friends to spend the night. We’ll have a cookout and sleep in the tents. How does that sound?” His idea was a hit. “Mike, it’s settled. You’re spending the night with us.” We loaded my Canoe in Eric’s truck bed and took off for the Armstrong family farmhouse.
And that’s how this amazing day turned into the most memorable night of my short life.
PJ and I headed to the Delphi food mart for campout grub while the boys set up the tents. We were standing in the checkout line when PJ got a call. “Change of plans. They need me at the Carnival.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ll know more after I make a few calls. He pointed to the glove box. “Pop in a CD. Use the earphones.” I chose the first one in the case, labeled ‘MOM’ It was an eclectic mix of music, everything from Puff Daddy to Bach. PJ was still on the phone as he parked. “This shouldn’t take long.” He explained. “Some rednecks won’t leave: A big dude and his friends are harassing the wrestling team. The big one keeps shouting he wants to bet a Franklin on himself.”
“What are you going to do?”
He grinned. “It depends how drunk he is. It might be an easy $100. We’ll see.”
The Tent was a small sturdy mustard colored circus tent that had seen its better days. It sat about 20 yards outside the carnival main gate. I later learned it had something to do with liability insurance. A large OLD TYME CARNIVAL WRESTLING banner hung above the entrance. and a small sign on computer paper said, ‘All Day Admission $5’. Around the entrance were photos of old time carny grapplers mixed in with Delphi high school wrestlers in fierce poses. Scribbled on a standing classroom whiteboard in huge red marker letters was ‘TEST YOURSELF. I wondered if it was a play on the words above the entrance to the Temple of Delphi in Greece: After all, the tent was being run by the Delphi High School wrestling team.
A huge muscular man wearing overalls and a well worn white Delphi Wrestling teeshirt sat behind a folding table holding various papers and the ubiquitous strong box, stamp, and stamp pad. I spotted the stack of flyers like the one Donny had given me. PJ shook hands with the man mountain ticket taker. “Any trouble Mr Trombly?”
“Not yet. It’s just like Coach Williams to be sick today. They’ve been loud and obnoxious for over an hour. The boys and parents are really pissed.”
“Is Bill refereeing?”
“Probably. He got here about five minutes ago.”
We walked thru the double canvas flaps. Thirty to forty people were watching two high school lightweights going at it in the ring. Many were parents waiting to drive their kids home for the night. Surrounding the ring were maybe 50 folding metal chairs. In the back were tables for eating and more casual watching. The Delphi wrestlers were sitting in a group at ringside. One of the wrestlers spotted PJ and pointed toward the far side. We heard the rednecks before we saw them. I followed PJ as we ambled our way in their direction. He stopped and for several minutes sized up the situation. Most of them were drunk. The Big One was maybe 240. Not fat, just big. He was holding court for the other bad ass wannabes. On the table were lots of beer cans and greenbacks.
“How much money do you have on you?”
“A couple hundred.”
“You’re kidding me!! Never mind. Can I borrow a hundred?” I started to get it out, “No, I don’t want it, just put it in your hand and play along with me.” He strolled over to the rednecks. “Hi. I’m PJ. I’m one of the Delphi wrestlers. This is my friend Mike. We just got here. I’m not supposed to fight anyone out of my weight class, but Mike wants to take you up on your bet.”
The Big One checked PJ out and said, “It’s your funeral.”
“How about now?” PJ pointed to the two high schoolers who were just leaving the ring.
The Hulk stood up, jeered at PJ, and headed toward the ring peeling off his shirt as he went. The ref pointed him to a corner. The tent suddenly turned quiet. PJ stepped thru the ropes stripping to the waist as he went to the opposite corner. A murmur rippled thru the tent. The ref motioned them to the center where he went over the submission rules. “Lose your belts and shoes, and empty your pockets. Any questions?”
The Big One flexed his muscles smirking at PJ. “Do you have an ambulance, ready?”
Returning the stare, PJ calming replied, “Don’t worry. There’s always one on standby during carnival hours, but I don’t plan on hurting you.”
They returned to their corners waiting for the bell to ring. It was show time. PJ spent the first several minutes assessing the redneck’s fighting skills. Then he exploded into action. He took his stunned opponent to the mat and wish boned his legs in a classic wrestling spladle. It was all over. He toyed with the Big One for several minutes making him look like a fool which triggered laughter and cheers from the spectators. Finally, he increased the pressure and had him begging for mercy. The ref signaled for the bell, and raised PJ’s arm in victory.
PJ gave the ref a hug. “Bill, my friend bet a hundred on me. Can you see he gets it from those bozos?”
Bill winked. “No problem PJ. I’m only sorry I didn’t get a chance to use my martial arts skills.” Most of the spectators applauded as the drunks helped their limping leader out of the ring, and in turn were ushered out of the tent by a half dozen bouncers. The whole Delphi team rushed the ring, hoisted PJ on their shoulders, and started chanting, “Delphi, Delphi, Delphi.”
After being put down, PJ shouted, “Delphi huddle!”
The team instantly collapsed around their hero. “OK guys. Thanks. But don’t ever pull what I just did. I had plenty of backup if things went south.” He pointed at the bouncers who were high fiveing themselves near the tent entrance. “On the count of three, ‘Bouncers rule!’ One,…. Two…. Three’ ….”
With the situation resolved, we hopped into the truck laughing.
“I know I took a chance, but it looked like some easy money. I figured him for the drunk brawler kind. I wasn’t in any real trouble. The ref was Jamie’s MMA fight instructor. The other calls I made were to the bouncers. …….Now, let’s go camping!”
We got back to the farm well after dusk. Up on the hill the boys were sitting around a low grade cooking fire. Two small tents and one huge cabin sized were set up.
I looked at Donny, “Don’t tell me you set up that monster all by yourselves did you?!”
“No, it’s been up since spring. We use it all summer.”
We devoured the food as I embellished our Wrestling Tent adventure. PJ started passing out the twenties he won. “I’m splitting this with you guys so I don’t have to buy you Christmas presents.”
PJ noticed me looking up at the stars. “Someone run down to the house and get the telescope.” Fifteen minutes later PJ was giving a surprisingly detailed lecture about the Greek constellations.
For dessert we roasted marshmallows. During a lull, Kenny asked, “Does anyone know some good jokes?” That’s how the round robin of jokes started.
When it was my turn I apologized, “Sorry guys, but I’m no good at telling jokes.”
Kenny said with his best angelic voice. “We promise we’ll laugh.”
“OK,” I assumed a very serious demeanor. “When I die, I want to go just like my grandpa did, in his sleep, not screaming like the three other people in his car.”
Total silence…. A few seconds past. “Don’t you get it? He fell asleep while driving.” I noticed everyone was looking at Donny, who was staring into the fire. Eric reached out and put a hand on his arm. Donny got up slowly and walked down the hill toward the house. “Did I say something wrong?” Everyone was watching Donny disappear into the darkness.
PJ quietly said. “Mike, Mom died when she crashed her car into a tree. Donny blames himself.”
“Oh my God.” was all I could say.
“It’s not your fault Mike, you didn’t know. No one knows how to help him.” PJ got up and started for the house. Then he hesitated and turned around. “Mike, can you try to get him to come back?”
“Me?... But I…..”
“I’ve tried so many times, but nothin get works. He really likes you. Can you give it a shot? …….. Please.”
I got up, “I don’t know what to say, but I’ll try.”
“Thanks. And don’t worry if he shuts you out. He’s done that to everyone many times.”
I stepped onto the porch filled with empathy and no idea of what to do. I opened the door. He was sitting on the living room couch intensely playing a video game, oblivious to me. I sat beside him watching him shoot down incoming enemy missiles. After what seemed like an eternity I said the only thing I had been thinking of for several minutes, “I’m sorry.”
He said nothing.
After another long silence, I asked, “Do you have any pictures of her?”
Without breaking his concentration, he pointed in the direction of the fireplace mantle.
I returned to the couch with a wedding picture which could have been a cover for a fashion magazine.
“Well, that explains one thing. I was wondering where you got your good looks from. Do you have any more pictures?” He disappeared down the hall and returned with a wedding album, placing it on the coffee table in front of me and resumed playing his game.
I turned the pages slowly. “Is that your grandpa?” He glanced quickly, nodded, and went back to the game. I asked maybe a dozen more questions, which were all answered with either a nod or a shake. But I sensed his urgent concentration on the game beginning to fade.
“Do you have any more?” He disappeared again and returned with two generic family albums. My questions began to be answered reluctantly with one or two word replies. I came to one of her on a beach playing in the sand with a child. “Is that you with her?
He nodded. “I was three.” Finally, a break through.
Gradually, he started opening up with more words and an occasional smile. “Do you have a favorite?
He got up and returned with a well worn photo of a boy sitting on a woman’s lap who was reading to him. Donny didn’t hand it to me. Instead he stared at it hard, becoming that little boy again. “She was always reading to us. We liked stories about the Greeks. She read other stuff, too, but we all liked the Greeks the best.
He slid down a little on the sofa and rested his head on my arm that I had draped around his back and closed his eyes for several minutes. I continued to talk as if nothing had changed. But something was happening. He shifted his body into mine.
A while passed before he opened his eyes and looked at me for the first time since I had entered the house. “We better get back to the fire.”
Out on the porch I stopped him. “I have a question. You don’t have to answer unless you want to. Do you think your mom would have liked my joke?”
He gave it a serious thought before smiling. “Yeah, she’d probably still be laughing.”
Back at the fire, Donny said, “Mike, your first joke bombed. Try another one”
“OK. This is more of a riddle. What animal has four legs and an arm? They gave up…. “A pit bull……. Come on. A vicious dog. You know, A pit bull!” ….four legs and someone’s arm in his mouth.”
No laughter, just a collective moan and groan.
Donny frowned. “You’re batting a triple 0 so far. Try another.”
“All right. This is the most famous riddle of all time, The Riddle of the Sphynx. What goes forth first…”
PJ shot out a hand. “Kenny, you know this one. Give the others a chance.”
I started over again. “What goes forth first on four, then on two, then on three?” Donny obviously knew the answer, too. Eric, and Jimmy, Kenny’s friend, made several guesses until PJ said. “OK, Kenny, now.”
“Man. First we crawl on four, then we learn to walk on two feet, and in our old age we need the help of a cane….. Poor Oedipus…..”
PJ cut him off. “That’s enough, Brainiac!”
I glanced at PJ who shot me a look meaning, ‘You have stepped into a mine field.’ Donny was staring into the fire again.
“Okay,” I said quickly, “Who wants to win some money? I’ve got a fourth grade math story problem for you. First to say the right answer wins. Listen carefully. ‘A baseball bat and a ball cost $11.00 at a thrift store. The bat costs $10 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost.’” I repeated it again. Answers started flying and I kept shaking my head no. Only Kenny was quiet. I repeated it once more.
Kenny said, “50 cents. It’s fifty cents.”
I walked over and ceremoniously handed him twenty dollars….. Everyone was looking baffled including PJ.
“Guys! If the ball costs $0.50 and the bat is $10 MORE than the ball the bat must be $10.50, right? What’s 50 cents plus $10.50? …. $11.00. You can make an algebra problem out of it.”
After everyone was through congratulating Kenny, Donny asked, “What’s your story, Mike?”
“My story?”
“You know, tell us about yourself.”
"Short version or long? OK, I’ll give you my obituary if I die tonight: I had to do this for an assignment last semester. ‘Michael Guy Ryan, Born February 29, 1985 in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Died August 17, 2006. Michael was born on a deserted island with the handle of a silver spoon in his mouth, the only child of Bernard and Kathleen Ryan. His hobby was daydreaming. At 12 he moved to Columbus, Ohio. He joined the Harding Middle School wrestling team where he excelled. In 9th grade he wrestled varsity, and went on to captain the Taft High School wrestling team for the next three years. He went to States as a junior and senior. He attended Ohio State University, majoring in Psychology and minoring in Self Analysis.’”
“Any questions?”
Kenny asked, “How did you get your muscles?”
“Mostly lifting weights. I was skinny like you until I joined the wrestling team.”
“PJ got his muscles playing Horse with Jamie.”
Donny , Eric and PJ laughed.
PJ said, “I got a lot of bruises too. Don’t forget the bruises.”
Donny shouted, “We miss you Jamie.”
Eric chimed in, “Oh Hell yes, we miss Jamie for sure!” Everyone laughed.
PJ glowered at the others and explained. “Jamie’s our older brother. For three years he was a MMA wannabe and I was his guinea pig. He joined the Army instead. Now I can take out revenge on these guys, and there’s no one to stop me."
The general consensus was that Jamie needed to come home to kick PJ’s ass.
PJ glanced at his watch. “ OK guys, it’s video game time. Keep the volume off in case someone actually wants to sleep.” Within a few minutes the boys were in their tents.
“It’s been a full day. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I’m managing the Tent. It opens at 11 on weekdays. We need to get some pillows and blankets.”
We walked down to the house. For the second time it occurred to me the PJ and I would be sleeping in the same tent alone. “What did you say to Donny at the house?”
“Not much. I mostly watched him play a video game. After a while I asked to see some pictures of your mom. She’s beautiful.”
“Amazing. You worked a miracle tonight. He always gets depressed for at least a day, sometimes a week. Did he show you the one of mom reading to him?”
“It was the last one. Why?.”
“For years I’d catch him staring at it in private. Uncle Jerry had it photoshopped as a Christmas present. He’s never shown that to anyone.”
“Why do you think he took it so hard?”
PJ paused. “We think she committed suicide and Donny thinks he could have prevented it. That’s a heavy load.”
Inside the huge tent, PJ grinned at me. “I’m not tired, how about you?”
“Not really.” Something was up. I was aware at how my nervous, high pitched reply must have sounded. I opened up our sleeping bags side by side making a king sized bed…. with only one sheet to cover us.
“Me either. Let’s play Horse.” Without waiting for a response he started pushing the bags and everything else to the sides.
“How does it go?” I found myself helping him clear the center area. My mind raced with the possibilities.
“It’s just like basketball, but using submission holds instead. It’s Jamie’s game, the one the boys were talking about. You’re going to lose, but since you’re a masochist you’ll like it.”
I felt another surge of dopamine and adrenaline course thru my body.
I took the lantern off a post and placed on the floor. It cast a warm golden glow to our arena filling it with misshapen shadows. We stripped to our briefs. The early holds were no brainers leading to quick submissions. After ten minutes it became clear PJ was going to win. He started winning a point then teach me the hold. Probably PJ would have been just as happy horsing around. But that wasn’t me: Fake wrestling and horsing around wasn’t part of my fantasy. I wanted it real. PJ sensed it. He began putting me into long held dominating holds. I was about to submit in a painful leg lock when he suddenly released it and grabbed me in a side headlock. I wasn’t in any hurry to escape when it became clear he wasn’t going for a submission. Our game of Horse evolved into a struggle for physical domination with only an occasional submission.
I had PJ locked in a full nelson /scissors combination for a long time. At first he struggled to break out, then he half tried, then he ceased struggling, occasionally roiling his muscles. But he wouldn’t tap.. I started playing with him. The fiction that we were still wrestling was wearing thin. I released the nelson to increase my scissor leverage. It was a mistake. He escaped and went on an all out attack capturing my left arm and twisting my wrist viciously. I had to tap.
“Why did you let me go?” He said angrily. “You had me!” He looked visibly upset. “Stand up.” As I stood, he flared his lats, sending me into a trance. He circled my waist with his arms and slowly began squeezing me. My mind went blank. The next thing I remember PJ was helping me up from the floor.
“What happened?”
Almost apologetically he said, “You pulled a muscle. We’d better call it a night.” My back felt fine, but I didn’t argue the point.
We were alone and about to sleep together. I was filled with anticipation. I started retrieving the sleeping bags and pillows. PJ sat Indian style and studied me busily absorbed in preparing for the night. I opened the bags up laying them side by side.
“Put them on top of each other. It’ll make it softer.” My heart skipped a beat.
I started to lay down.
“You forgot the cover sheet.”
He moved onto the doubled bags and propped himself up on an elbow.
I went to lay down.
“Turn off the lantern.” My heart was racing. This was really going to happen.
That done. I finally got myself horizontal. “Anything else?”
“Get the flap. it’s not zipped all the way.” I knew he was playing with me, but I was too nervous to object. That done, I repeated, “Anything else?”
“Nope.” And with that he puffed his pillow and turned his back to me. “Goodnight.” Scared, thrilled, and confused, I did the same. A moment later he rolled over, put his arm firmly around my ribs and pull me into him, then he completely relaxed as if there was no other way for two men to sleep together. I froze, not wanting to interfere with the sudden euphoria washing over me. I stayed awake a long time relishing this completely new feeling, before drifting off. He moved and I was wide awake. He adjusted his arm up to my chest and cupped my shoulder with his hand, letting out a barely audible sigh of contentment. Involuntarily I answered with a low moan of my own. Much of what I did this nite was involuntary.
Sometime during the night he rolled over and cemented our backs together. After a long time I took a daring chance and did something I had never done before. I rolled over and threw my arm carelessly across his chest. He took the arm and placed it around his ribs, then backed into me letting out another deep sigh. I was delirious. And greedy. I wanted to know I was inside his mind. My hand gently kneaded his side. Moments later he started syncing his breathing with mine.
We shifted our bodies throughout the night, always with some portion of our bodies touching. Words can’t describe the most erotic, contented, blissful night of my 21 year old life. It’s true. Some new experiences imprint themselves in your brain forever.
I woke nervously in the morning wondering if he’d say anything. Not a word. That was OK with me, because it gave me more time to plot doing this again soon. Real soon.
We left for the boat shop in the late morning with a soft rain falling, talking about fishing and marshmallows. We lapsed into silence. I was gazing out the window, reliving the night, when without looking at me PJ said, “How did you sleep?”
A hot flash surged thru my body. I forced a weak nervous chuckle, “I was a little restless. I move around a lot. Sorry, did I keep you awake?”
PJ took his time, “Yes, you did. And I’m not sorry.”
……………………………………………………
For more stories from Randy (id 7305), please click here