“Russell, he is a Marine. His world and ours are miles apart, but it pays to keep in with him!” I said, not believing what I had just said. “My brother is in the British army, and they are the same – there are civilians and then real people who wear uniforms and serve their country.”
“I suppose you are right, I find it difficult, as he seems to disapprove of all of us. Except you, that is!” he said.
He ambled away, looking a little green around the gills.
I joined Ed in the bow and looked at the tanned body lying in the sun. He was very well-muscled, not a six-pack, but an eight pack! He was as lean as anything, no extra fat at all. I saw the scars and a couple of marks that could only be bullet wounds.
He had a tattoo on one shoulder, so my mother would be horrified. It was of the US Marine Corps crest, and it suited him. I was very envious of him, his size, his looks and his power and strength. And, I found there was another feeling, lurking in the background, which I suppressed almost immediately.
Almost!
I actually fancied him, a little, but I suppressed it.
He opened his eyes.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I said, and that little flutter in my tummy beat off my attempts to suppress it anymore.
“Join me?” he said, moving over on his mat. I shrugged, taking off my tee shirt. I had a black bikini on underneath, so paused for only a second before taking it off too, laying on my tummy next to him.
I felt his hands on my back. I froze, but then he said.
“You need some sun screen, so have some of mine,” he said, so I allowed him to rub the cream into my back. He was the first man I had ever allowed to touch me, and I actually liked it.
I actually dozed off with the pitch and roll of the ship.
He shook me awake.
“Hey, Doc G, you’re burning!” he said.
I turned over, remembering too late that I was topless. But I found that didn’t care and he gave no indication he did. He simply passed me the bottle of sunscreen, saying, “You had better do your front yourself!”
And then he grinned at me.
I liberally spread the sunscreen all over me, and lay back in the sun.
I was aware that he was watching me, so I shielded my eyes with my hand, as I looked at him. He was lying on his side, with his head on one hand.
“You’ve got lovely skin, you don’t want to burn it,” he said.
“I want to go as brown as you,” I said.
He laughed.
“What is so funny?” I asked.
“We are.”
“Why?”
“Because we are so screwed up, we can’t see a good thing when it stares us in the face,” he said; his expression sad.
I seemed to sense there was more, so I just asked, “Like what?”
“Well, you wanted to be like your brothers, and I, well I was pretty screwed up too. My dad ran off when I was young, and, heck, I don’t know, but I guess I went off the rails a little. When I was a kid in High school, I got sent to see a shrink, and it turns out that I am the same as you. Except, I wanted to be a girl. But I grew to be six foot six, and weighed in at two hundred and twenty-five pounds. So, I bit the bullet and got on with my life. Now I figure that you want to be me, and shit girl, I would have loved to be you,” he said, as he lay back sighing.
I realised that it had taken a lot for him to share that with me, and I respected him for it.
“You wanted to be a girl?” I said, rather incredulous.
He stared at the sky.
“Yup, ever since I can remember. Only I was never prepared to take my feelings seriously. You see, the way I figured, it’s better to play with the hand you get, than to try a cheat and play with a hand less a few cards,” he said.
I frowned, as he looked at me.
“See, if I had gone for a full-blown sex change, I would have been a six foot six freak, neither one nor the other. I wasn’t prepared to go through that. And you, too many people to hurt, and for what, to be a pretend man?” he asked.
He was right. I had considered surgery and discounted it, as I would have been exactly what he had described, a pretend man!
I sat next to him, with my mind in a whirl. Here was someone like me. For the first time in my life, I was no longer alone and unique.
“I would be obliged if this information is not broadcast,” he said with a grin. I leaned across, taking his hand, as he looked at me. Suddenly he seemed so vulnerable. He’d shared something from his inner most soul and it laid him open for the first time in his life.
“Have you ever told anyone?”
“Nope, apart from the shrink when I was in school, and I guess she thought I was cured. I never said anything to make her feel differently.”
“I’m humbled that you shared this with me.”
“Hell, Doc, I’m just repaying the compliment.”
That made me smile.
“It’s the loneliness I hate the most,” I said.
We stared into each other’s eyes. It was strange, for it was almost like looking into a mirror.
“Strange place to come across your soul mate; ain’t it?” he said, giving me such an open and warm look, that I was completely confused.
He was right, as that is exactly how I felt. He squeezed my hand in his. I was conscious of how much larger his hand was compared to mine.
“You sure have a pretty little hand,” he said, making me laugh a little nervously.
“I was thinking that you had big strong hands. Weird isn’t it?” I said.
He smiled.
“What?” I asked.
“Can you imagine what those who are watching us are thinking right now?” he asked.
I laughed, realising exactly how it looked.
“Well, the truth is somewhat different,” I said.
“Hell, girl, why disappoint them?” And before I knew it we were kissing.
I had kissed a few guys, but it had never felt like this. I had been so desperate to be ‘normal’ that I’d really tried to do ‘normal’ things. One of them was dating and what my father called ‘necking’. Quite why, I never discovered.
Despite trying, it just hadn’t worked for me.
Ed, on the other hand, was so tender and caring, that it almost blew me away. I found myself responding, and before I knew it, he had wrapped a large arm around me, so we were lying side by side on the mat. I tried to imagine myself being he, feeling myself becoming aroused.
Eventually, I had to come up for air.
“Phew, that was different!” I said.
He grinned. “You were putting yourself in my place, weren’t you?” he asked.
I nodded, and he smiled.
“Me too,” he said.
“You’re the first man I have ever responded to, like this,” I admitted.
“I’m flattered. I wish I could say the same, but there have been women. I was married once, a long time ago,” he said.
I placed my hand on his battered chest, so my fingers touched some of his old wounds.
“I don’t care,” I heard myself say.
“I’ve even got kids, somewhere,” he said.
I looked him in the eyes and said, “I still don’t care.”
“I was never gay,” he said, as if it were important. “Just fucked up.”
I smiled, which broke into a laugh.
“Good,” I said. “I’m the same.”
He caressed my cheek, and it felt good.
“So, what happens now?” I asked.
“We go with the flow. I honestly don’t know, but I have a feeling that it is meant to be. Somehow, somewhere, our questions will be answered,” he said, and I had to agree with him.
We lay together, holding each other all day. He made no attempt to take anything further, and I was a little disappointed. But I understood that he was as confused as I.
He went away at one point, returning back with some Tuna salad and some beers. I made no attempt to cover myself, for I was as relaxed with him as I could have been.
We ate lunch, talking about our childhoods. I was lucky, mine had been very happy, whereas he had had a rough time. Neither of us could pinpoint an event or an exact time when we became aware of our burning desires to be something other than what we were, but the feelings we had were the same. The pressures to conform, the pressures of parents, peer groups, and physical shape.