Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/267

 "No it wasn't," Blake grinned … "I've always looked older than I am. Well, to get back to this kid at the bar. He asked me if I wanted to go home with him. You know what I did?"

"No."

"I took his hand like this," he grabbed Gaylord's hand, "and laid it like this. I said, ‘Feel, feel good and hard … it's not big … and you guys like big ones … do you still want me to go home with you?'" Blake uttered a chuckle … "Ok … you want me to stop the car?"

"Why?"

"Feel anything rising?"

Gaylord jerked his hand away … "I wasn't even …"

"I'm only kidding … keep your hand there … feels good."

"I'd better not. What happened … did you go home with him?"

"Yeah. You should have seen the expression in his eyes … I'll never forget it. He said, ‘I don't care if you don't have anything in your pants … I'm just lonesome …' Gay, he was lonesome … He really meant it."

"Did you go home with him?"

"Yes … I went with him. He had the nicest place … I stayed all night with him … Darn, he was a swell fellow."

"What happened?"

"Same thing that happened to you and Paul."

"Oh …"

"Love was never mentioned though … he brought me coffee in bed the next morning … I got a big kick out of it … I think of him real often and wonder what ever happened to him. Don't know what ever happened to him. We wrote to each other but then I stopped."

"What was his name?"

"Gene … er."

For a moment Gaylord's heart was in his throat. Was Blake going to say Gene Limbeaux? That short little fat man that had given the party?

"Gene … Baxter. I almost forgot his last name … He lived on Royal." He looked at Gaylord, asked, "What's wrong?"

"I thought you were going to say Gene Limbeaux."

"Who's that?"