I like flying. There’s something magical about an object so big becoming airborne, held aloft by the invisible power of lift. I looked at the clouds spread out far below me, perfect white cotton balls suspended in the blazing sunshine. My life was finally “airborne” as well.
At first I thought maybe it was just the money. Extra cash has a way of lifting burdens for sure. But when I looked a little deeper, I realized the lift I felt was more in my thinking, rather than my wallet. I saw myself through different eyes now.
All my life I had lived below my potential. As a gay man, I did not believe I could be good or do good things, nor did I believe anyone would want me to. Better to just disappear and not offend. So that’s what I had done. I left my home, my family—such as it was—as well as any aspirations of real purpose, and just disappeared. I could now see how I had mentally and emotionally suffocated my hopes and dreams, all in the name of not disappointing others. Instead, I had disappointed myself.
But my downward-focused thinking was slowly being replaced by a new point of view. Yes, I was gay, but so what? I was still a good guy, and I was capable of doing good things—or so a lot of people were saying lately. I just needed to believe it myself.
It may seem like a simple thing, but I had agonized over my same-sex attraction for a decade—ever since Bobby Meyers had stripped down and stood totally naked and unashamed in the gym shower after 8th grade P.E. class, letting the water run down his amazingly muscled body with its large patch of pubic hair resting on top of the world’s most perfect teenaged cock and balls. He was light years ahead of me and most of my classmates in the male development race, and he set an extremely high standard to follow. At the time I still looked every morning in hopes of finding a single pube to call my own.
I remember going home that night and jerking off to the images seared in my brain of Bobby standing naked and carefree in the shower. Years later I came to realize what had turned me on so much was not just his body, which was hot, but his confidence in who he was, which was hotter. I’m convinced the hottest guys, to girls and guys alike, are the ones who exude the most confidence in who they are. Bobby had confidence in spades. I had none. And never really found any, either.
Plus I was gay, which was strike one, two, and three, you’re out. Hence I never had a chance in the relationship game. I did eventually have the body hair and musculature of a young man but, without the confidence, my outward appearance wasn’t enough to overcome the fears.
I sighed, leaning my head against the window. Fred seemed shocked I was still a virgin. It wasn’t a big mystery to me. I was a virgin simply because I had been too scared not to be. And it wasn’t because I lacked desire—I was horny 24/7. On most days, any guy who took an ounce of care in his appearance could have had me with a smile. But deep-rooted fear and a deep lack of confidence were my two most visible qualities so, aside from the occasional flirtation, I was making no progress towards a relationship.
Yes, I wanted sex. I needed it. But I wanted more than that. I wanted a relationship, one based on a true friendship. I also needed to feel safe. Aside from being scared to death, the biggest reason I didn’t pursue casual sex was there was no commitment in it. Most of my relationships, especially with family, had suffered in the commitment department. And there is something so fundamental, so vital, in a commitment between two people. I knew I needed a commitment to feel safe enough to take the risk and be vulnerable enough to have sex.
I was willing to do it afraid. I was changing my whole life in the hopes of finding a forever love. I wasn’t the most self-aware guy on the planet, but I knew myself well enough to know if I felt a guy didn’t like me for who I was, beyond how badly he wanted in my pants, I’d never be able to go through with it. I couldn’t do one-night stands or random hookups, no matter how hard my dick got. If that’s selfish and boring and lame, so be it.
As I sat in my seat, flying across the ocean at 38,000 feet, I hoped I wasn’t setting the bar too high for any future relationship. I didn’t want to crash and burn before I even got off the ground. At the same time, I had to believe there was somebody out there who was worth the wait—someone who would love me first, and fuck me second…and third…and fourth.
After nearly nine hours, I was so ready to get off the plane. The pilot came on the PA system and announced last call for the bathrooms. The flight attendants were busy preparing for landing. I wish Seth had been on this flight. He would have been fun to watch, I thought, grinning to myself. I passed my time in line thinking of him and his twinkling blue eyes. I hoped he and Tim had everything worked out.
I used a lavatory and returned to my seat just as the seat belt sign came on. I obediently buckled up and put my iPad away. The blue-green ocean got closer and closer as we circled downward toward Honolulu. The islands looked so small from up here. I wondered if my forever love could be on one of those islands, and if he would find me this trip. He had three weeks. Get the lead out, man. My dick can’t get much harder.
Since I was flying first class, I was one of the first off the plane. I skipped the traditional Hawaiian lei handouts and headed to baggage claim to collect my two bags which contained everything I currently called mine. It didn’t bother me in the least. Open heart, open mind, and traveling light.
I saw him standing there, holding the sign with my name just over his crotch. He was no Billy. Middle-aged, with a paunch and some kind of food stain on his shirt, he had on a blue baseball cap, pulled down low over his eyes, so I couldn’t see much of his face.
“Hello. I’m Jack Schaeffer,” I said.
“Yes. Welcome to Hawaii, Mr. Schaeffer.” He extended his hand, and I shook it. “I’m Aaron. I’ll take you to your car.” Todd thought of everything, including things I didn’t really need, like a fancy rental car. But this was just Todd being Todd, so I rolled with it.
My car porter friend helped me retrieve my bags from the carousel, which was moving at a rapid clip. He must have had some serious muscles hiding under his flowered shirt, as he grabbed my large bag and lifted it right off the conveyor as if it weighed nothing. I caught the medium bag and struggled to get it off-loaded. I nearly fell on the elderly woman standing next to me. Embarrassing.
Ten minutes later we pulled into a lot full of shiny new cars on the outskirts of the airport. Aaron pointed to a sparkling white BMW convertible sedan. It was gorgeous. I had a white chariot to explore Hawaii in. Way to go, Todd!
Aaron showed me how everything worked on the car, including how to take the top down and put it back up. He wanted me to promise I would never try to put it up while I was driving. I promised. I signed some papers, received instructions on how to drop the car off and get a ride back to the airport when my time in Hawaii was done, and he departed. I managed to plug the address of the management office into the GPS, and I was off, the warm tropical wind whipping around my head.
I arrived at my destination a little after three, which made it eight o’clock for me. My stomach grumbled. I knocked on the office door—it was locked. Thankfully a woman answered it shortly.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m Jack Schaeffer. I am renting a house near Kailua Beach. I was told I needed to stop here first so someone could show me the way and get me set up.”
“Oh my goodness! Was that today? I thought that was for tomorrow. Come in, please. Here, have a seat and give me just a minute to see what’s what.” She was clearly distraught. I was surprisingly not upset at all—yet.
She was busy checking things on her computer screen as I watched and waited. She was probably in her early fifties, quite professional looking in her sky-blue dress and pearls. Her shoes matched the color of the dress and had a sensible heel. Suddenly she gave a small gasp, looked at me from the corner of her eyes, then grabbed a cell phone and dialed someone. This was getting interesting.
“Madge, this is Claire. Yes, I’m at the office. No, he didn’t. Listen, I have a Jack Schaeffer here. He says he’s renting the Kailua Beach house today. I thought the rental started tomorrow.” She listened while Madge explained something to her. I could see her face finally show some relief, and she smiled.
“Oh, I see. Of course. Yeah, sure, I’ll tell him. No problem. Yes, I can do that. The folder is right here on your desk. Got it. See you soon.” She hung up.
“Mr. Schaeffer, my apologies, sir. And please forgive my lack of manners. I’ve been a bit flustered today. My name is Claire Hoskins. My business partner, Madge Weinkoff, is on her way in. She will be handling your rental and any help you may need. She wanted to stop and get some things for the house before she took you up there. I think she thought you would be a bit later in arriving.”
“I hope I haven’t caused any trouble, Ms. Hoskins.” I said.
“Oh, fiddlesticks. Nothing of the kind. And you can call me Claire. No, it just so happens I have a Mr. Shaftner coming in tomorrow to rent a condo down by Waikiki, and I was a bit confused by the similar last names. Madge has you all set up and ready to go. In fact, I can get you started with the paperwork if you’d like so you can get going as soon as she arrives.”
I signed a half dozen forms promising not to destroy anything and to replace anything if I broke my first promise. The last form indicated Todd had prepaid the rental in full. Claire then handed me a fairly large 3-ring binder full of information about the house, its location, and the local environs. There were telephone numbers for anything I could ever need. It would take two days to read through it all.
The little bell above the office door jingled as another woman came flying in, a bit out of breath. She was a larger woman, with an ample, currently heaving, chest and a face framed with a large brown hair helmet. She was not exactly unattractive, just a little large everywhere, but it wouldn’t have mattered to me anyway. I liked them a lot younger and a lot more male.
She came straight for me, hands outstretched, pleading. “Mr. Schaeffer. A thousand apologies for my tardiness. Please forgive me. Traffic is obscene—obscene!—out there this afternoon.” She grabbed my hand with both of hers and shook my whole arm. Then she gave it back to me with a deep sigh.
“So, mahalo, welcome to Hawaii! Is this your first time visiting our fair islands?” She asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
“Oh my, drop the ma’am thing pronto, sweetie. I’m old…well, older…but I’m not ready to be a ma’am yet.” She laughed at herself, something I suspect she did often. I smiled, hoping this conversation would eventually lead to the house I was there to rent.
“Claire, did we get all the forms signed?”
“All right there in the folder on your desk, Madge. I gave him the book. He’s all set to go.” She was trying to speed things along as well. We shared a knowing smile.
“Alrighty then. Let’s get going. I’m assuming that’s your white chick magnet out there. Am I right?” She was laughing at herself again.
“Something like that,” I replied. Little did she know.