The distance between Ann Arbor and Delphi became an unsolvable problem. My visits to the boys became less frequent. Donny and I wrestled several more times, until he dominated me so easily the rush we both got from the thrill of the contest was gone. With the exception of that memorable night when Donny allowed me to live out my fantasy, neither of us could recapture the feeling of that night when we both enjoyed role playing. For many years we went cave exploring together in lower Kentucky. I looked forward to the nights more than the days. Donny joined PJ at Columbia. In his second year he started taking education classes. That same year I started pursuing a Doctorate degree in psychology. I happily attended their weddings, graduations, some holidays and a few birthdays. But our adult lives were leading us in different directions.
Last year I spent a weekend at PJ’s home in Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia to celebrate him becoming a psychiatrist.
Saturday night was a 300 strong gala party in a hall lasting until 3 A.M.. All sorts of friends and well wishers were there, including the mayor, a few aldermen, and a couple of political operatives who saw PJ’s potential as a future politician. Phillip flew up from Trinidad.
Sunday was a gathering of family at his house. Eight kids were playing in the back yard with three dogs: Kenny’s Lab, my Golden, and PJ’s Irish setter. It was humans versus dogs, with kids hiding in the pup tents, throwing tennis balls back and forth in a game of keep- away’.
Dinner was delicious and the conversation lively, because the children were encouraged to join in. Kenny, deftly stirred the conversation so everybody felt included.
During a lull, PJ asked my godson, David, to recite a poem he was memorizing for an honor’s summer school class. PJ motioned for David to stand. The table waited expectantly.
“‘The Road Not Taken’, by Robert Frost.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both,
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
David stumbled, and looked at his dad. PJ looked at me. “Mike, he’s your godson.”
Before I could prompt him, Kenny asked, “Mike, can I?” I nodded.
Kenny smiled and said, “Because it was grassy…” David continued.
Then took the others just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
had really worn them about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day,
“But knowing how way leads onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
“I shall be telling this with a sigh
somewhere ages and ages hence.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by.
And that has made all the difference.”
There was an unexpected silence before the applause. “Dad, I still don’t see why it’s so famous.”
PJ looked at me and then we both looked at Kenny whose eyes were fixed on the table. “Give it time, David. Give it time.”
The table talk rambled in no particular direction. I remember Kenny asking the ‘Pitbull’ riddle. and got the same collective moan I got many years ago. There followed a lively debate over who deserved to be more admired, Achilles, or Hector ending in no consensus.
Dinner over, the boys went outside to play. Jamie and I talked for a while, before he headed outside to join the kids.
I settled down on the sofa.
Uncle Jerry was explaining his “Armstrong Good-Looking Gene Theory” to Donny’s oldest daughter. PJ, Donny, and their wives were talking local politics. I had a glass of port thrice filled and half empty beside me drinking in this scene of domestic life. A melancholic nostalgia had been washing over me for some time. PJ saw it. He caught my eye, and motioned for me to come join them. I smiled, waved, and shook my head. I finished the drink and headed out to be alone in my car.
I was listening to the slow movement of a Brahms concerto when PJ knocked on the passenger window holding up a Pepper and a beer. I unlocked the door.
“No, don’t turn it off.” We sat there drinking in silence listening to Rubinstein.
Less than five minutes later Donny came out and settled in the back. “Mike, I want to show you something.’ PJ held up a hand. Donny sat quietly until I ejected the CD.
“OK, bro, What do you got?”
Donny was smart enough to know the music had cast a spell. He waited a bit longer before saying, “Mike, have you seen PJ’s advertising website on Linkedin?” I shook my head. He handed me his phone. It showed PJ sitting behind an imposing executive desk, cluttered with photos and a few books. On the wall behind him were framed documents, awards, and plaques.
“Do you see it?”
“What am I looking for?”
“It’s on the wall. Blow it up.”
I enlarge the background. I zeroed in on a frame that held two greenbacks.
“They’re the Jacksons. Most people will think it’s the first money PJ made as a psychiatrist.”
“Donny, That’s one of the two most memorable days in my life.”
I was surprised when he said, “Mine too. I slipped out on Erik, and sat outside your tent listening to you play Horse.”
PJ faked being incensed. “You did what?”
“I couldn’t sleep, thinking about mom. And I wanted to watch you wrestle so bad I could taste it.”
“Who were you rooting for?”
“No one! Hell, I just wanted to watch my two heroes having fun.”
PJ and I looked at each other and then stared at Donny.
The back door opened again and Kenny hopped in with a six pack of Colt 45. Four tabs popped in quick succession. “What’s up?”
“We’re talking about that fateful day we all met.”
PJ looked at Donny and said, “Sometimes fate needs a helping hand. Tell him bro.”
“Mike, I called PJ and told him you were coming. He hates fishing.”
I laughed. “I’ve wondered if that was a coincidence.”
I handed the phone to Kenny. “Take a look at the Jacksons on the wall.”
That was all the lead Kenny needed. He relived the entire day for all of us, from me beaching the canoe, to him winning $20 answering the math riddle. In no time at all he had us all talking and laughing. It was the tonic I needed to pull me out of my doldrums. Suddenly, Kenny said, “Shit, I forgot! Sis sent me out here to tell you dessert is ready.”
“Kenny, Tell her Mike and I want to stay out here a little longer.”
Donny and Kenny didn’t need a second hint. “OK, We’ll see you back inside.”
I couldn’t help smiling, “Some things never change PJ, they still do what you want.”
PJ laughed. “What can I say. By the way, Phillip is stopping by before his flight.” His phone buzzed for an incoming text. “Karen says there’s no hurry.”
I put in PJ’s mixer. Several songs later, PJ turned off the CD. We stared out the window for a long while.
“PJ, When I relive that night I get a glimpse of what it’s like to be you.
“What do you mean?”
“Making someone happy in the moment. You do it all the time.”
He didn’t argue my point. “That night didn’t have anything to do with wrestling did it.”
I shook my head. “No. No it didn’t.”
We went back to staring out the window. “Don’t tell Karen, but that night in the tent is one of the most erotic nights of my life.
“Seriously?”
He considered. “OK, erotic and frustrating. It depends on my mood: It ranks anywhere from five to nine depending.” Then he reached over and lightly slapped my face. “Don’t let it go to your head bro.” After a while he added, “ I wonder how things would have turned out if you weren’t a virgin.”
“Me too. It was all so new to me. But it worked out for the best. In the long run we would have been unhappy, you being straight and me being gay. You know, it’s the second most erotic night of my life.”
“Is the first one with Phillip?”
“No, it’s with Donny.”
“Chalk one up for the Armstrong brothers.” Another long silence followed, as my melancholic returned.
“PJ, at my core, at the center of my being I still feel there’s no ‘me’ there, just a bunch of mirrors reflecting what others think of me.”
“Mike, you’re overanalyzing again. Put the Brahms back in. I want to listen to the last movement.” He cranked the volume up so high, I was forced to listen to its overwhelming confident optimism.
When it was over, he clasped his hands behind his head. “Mike, that’s the movement to live by. Save the second movement for moments of reflection. After a long pause, he switched the subject. “You want to have lunch sometime in the next two or three weeks? It’s been a couple of busy months for me. I can come your way.”
I switched the subject back. “PJ, Eros is never going to let us fully know ourselves is he.”
“Not likely. He’s having too much fun watching our two heads duking it out with each other. Look at us sitting here: a pair of shrinks who know our profession is more art than science.” He exhaled slowly and put his mixer back in.
We sat there until Joni Mitchell finish singing ‘Both Sides Now.’ PJ stopped the CD. “Funny,” I mused.
“What’s funny?”
“‘That song. It was your mom’s favorite and one of dad’s too.”
“Wanna go in?”
I nodded.
“Karen made a lemon pie from scratch for you, so say something. And say something to David about the poem. He’s been practicing it for the last two days just for you.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It was Kenny’s idea.
After dessert, one by one, he took each of us men aside and told us what was going to happen. At 8 PM He announced, “Gentlemen, It’s time”.
We disappeared upstairs and came down wearing swimming gear, even Uncle Jerry, two of his grandsons, and David.
“Your attention everyone. The Armstrong men are going to entertain their womenfolk in the backyard by the pool.”
As we filed past the perplexed ladies only Karen guessed the impending activity. “I swear to God, inside every man is a little boy!”
Donny grinned, “Sis, if you got any Bengay, bring it with you. PJ is going to need it.”
It was epic.
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