Great-Uncle Harvey, Part III by Just_Me

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As we were leaving, Uncle Harvey said, "Do you mind if we stop at my mechanic’s? Getting the brakes checked is on my calendar. Besides, I want to introduce you to Old Man George."

"Sure. I have no plans for the next few days." I laughed, "No plans, except getting some sun on my white neck and ears." I grimaced. "Are you sure you want to introduce me to someone when I look like I painted around my head with white makeup?"

He grinned. "You do look like some kind of weird clown, but I’m sure Old Man George won’t mind." He touched the side of head. "I imagine I’ll be calling you a redneck after you’ve been outside just a few minutes. It’s been years since that part of you has seen the sun."

I laughed. "You’re right. I’ll probably have blisters on my neck within seconds."

We pulled into the garage, and a gorgeous man came out. I looked at Uncle Harvey. "Is that Old Man George? He doesn’t look so old to me."

"He’s about your age, but everyone calls him ‘Old Man George’. I ain’t sure why." His eyes got a twinkle in them. "Besides you, he’s the only young man I’ve ever met who seems to like my haircut. Watch him. He can’t keep his eyes off of my hair. He tries to pretend he’s looking me in the eye, but his eyes never meet mine." He laughed. "I only come to see him on barber shop days. It’s fun watching him pretend he’s not watching me."

"Hmm…I think I smell a rat here. Did you have some ulterior motive behind coming here today? Do you think he’ll ogle me, instead of you?"

"I’m completely innocent. I just need to get my brakes checked."

"Yeah, right. You’re selling, but I ain’t buying it!"

He looked me over. "You look so good that I’ll be very surprised if he can keep his eyes off of you. Come on, let’s go see."

George shook hands with Uncle Harvey and said, "Hi, Mr. Harvey. What can I do for you today?"

"I need you to check my brakes, but before you do that, let me introduce you to my nephew, Curtis."

George’s eyes bulged, and he stared at my head. "Is this the nephew with the long hair?"

A huge grin spread across Uncle Harvey’s face, and he reached up and took my fedora off. "Meet the new and improved Curtis. This is the nephew that USED to have long hair. We just left about ten pounds of hair on the floor of Walt’s Barbershop."

George stuck his hand out. "Nice to meet you, Curtis. I’ve heard a lot about you."

I wryly said, "It seems like everyone Uncle Harvey knows has heard about me." I looked at Uncle Harvey, "...and this is a man who says he can keep secrets."

Uncle Harvey said, "I’ve never told anybody none of your secrets. I’m just proud of you…and maybe I brag a little."

George piped up. "He brags more than a little. From what Mr. Harvey has told me, I halfway expect you to be able to walk on water."

I laughed, "Hell, I can’t even ski, much less walk on water."

"I can’t ski either. I get sick and ralph if I get in a boat. Heck, even watching a river run makes me wanna puke."

I grinned. "I’ll remember that, and not ask you if you want to go fishing."

"Oh, god. Don’t say that. Just thinking about it made me sick at my stomach."

He looked at me. "From what Mr. Harvey told me, you just underwent a totally rad makeover. What made you do it?"

I blushed. "Long story shortâ€"no pun intended, I've always liked the way men look with short hair." I pointed at Uncle Harvey. "That was probably his influence." I laughed. "For some reason I never realized I could have short hair until today."

I think I actually giggled before I said, "I guess I'm not the smartest man on the planet."

"I’m not exactly copying him, but I decided to be like him and do what I wanted, despite what others think about me. I just said to hell with what the fashion world dictates."

George grinned. "I like a man who’s willing to take a stand. I have a special place in my heart for eccentric folks." He looked me up and down. "It’s not often I get to meet an eccentric person who’s young. I like it."

I blushed again when George said, "I don’t know what you looked like with long hair, but I think you look mighty good with short hair. Hell, if I thought I’d look as good as you do, I’d close up shop, and run over to Walt’s."

I thought, "Is he flirting with me?" Then I thought, "No, he’s not flirting. He just likes my hair. I wonder if he’ll ever get brave enough to go for it himself?" Another thought popped into my head. "Maybe he just needs some encouragement. Why not offer him some?"

"I’m obviously not a fashion expert, but I think you’d look bitching with a flattop or short back and sides. Your hair hides your great square jawline, and beautiful green eyes."

Then I thought, "I cannot believe I just said that. I’m probably going to get my ass kicked for flirting with this macho man." Saying the words "macho man" made a song start running around in my head…"Macho, macho, macho man. I gotta be a macho man…"

Then another thought popped into my head. "Did I just flirt with a man in front of Uncle Harvey?"

George didn’t seem to take offense. In fact, he looked flattered. "You really think that about me? You think I’d look good with short hair?"

"Absolutely! I think you’d look a helluva lot better than I do. Mother Nature gave you a lot more to work with than she gave me."

He looked dubious. "I don’t know. What if I hate it?"

"You can always grow it back if you hate it, but I can just about guarantee you won’t. My hair was a lot longer than yours, and I don’t regret it for a second."

"I might think about it." He looked at me. "How long was your hair before you cut it?"

"It was almost to my waist."

"Holy cow! That was long." He grinned, and stared at my head. "Well, it’s not long now." Then he turned to Uncle Harvey. "What’s going on with your brakes?"

"Nothing’s wrong with them. It’s just time to check them out."

"Give me your keys, and I’ll take the car around the block, and see if I feel anything wrong."

As soon as George left, Uncle Harvey said, "You’re a natural flirt. Hell, you might be the one to convince George to take the leap into the kingdom of the short-haired."

I stammered, "I wasn’t flirting. I was just trying to encourage him to do what he obviously wants to do." Then a thought hit me that made me shiver. "You were right. He couldn’t keep his eyes off my hair…despite my white neck."

"Old Man George couldn’t keep his eyes off of your hair? HA! He was looking at you like a fox looks at a rabbit. He wanted to gobble you up. I know he thought you were mighty cute. Your hair and the fact that you’re so handsome made you pretty damned irresistible to him. He even liked the fact you were smoking a pipe. My years of watching people makes me know I’m right."

"You are inhabiting a fantasy world, Uncle Harvey. Even if perchance George was attracted to the same sexâ€"which I find extremely unlikelyâ€"he would never lower himself enough to engage in a dalliance with a plain Jane such as myself. He must have a plethora of other opportunities for alliances with men of much higher intelligence and far more comely appearances that far exceed my humble looks."

He got right in front of me. "Listen to me. I’ve been watching folks for longer than you’ve been alive, and their actions always give them away. I’d bet you a plug nickel that he’s mighty interested in you. You mark my word, he’s going to ask you out and I suspect it’ll happen sooner rather than later. He’s smitten with you."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Only in my most outrageous fantasies would something like that occur. In fact, the likelihood of him approaching me with amorous intent is only exceeded by the likelihood of pigs flying." I stepped back. "Hell, we didn’t even converse for five minutes."

"You’re talking college talk to me, which lets me know you think you’re right. I can guarantee you that you talked long enough that he’s taken a shine to you. You can take it to the bank. I’m more sure that I’m right than you’re sure you’re right.’

"Sorry. I didn’t realize I was talking college. To put it more plainly, he’s way out of my league. If he is gay, I’d be willing to bet he’ll wind up with someone who looks like a model, not an east Texas redneck."

"I wouldn’t waste my money betting on that." Then he got serious. "Hell, I only finished third grade, and I might not’ve had much learning, but I know what I’m talking about. I think I’ve learned a lot in my years, and I’m telling you that now that you’ve got a decent haircut you’re a mighty handsome devil. Any man worth his salt would be happy to latch onto you, and George is already thinking about latching onto you."

I tried changing the subject. "You might not have had a great education, but you’re the most well-read person I know. I’ve never brought up a subject that you didn’t know something about."

"Thank you, son. It makes me right real glad to hear you say that, but you ain’t gonna change the subject on me. I’m telling you that I’m right."

I saw I wasn’t going to get Uncle Harvey to understand what I was saying, so I just shut up and put my pipe in my mouth.

George came back, and said, "Mr. Harvey, I think your brakes are fine. I can put the car on the rack, and check them if you want me to, but I think it’s a waste of time."

"I trust you, George. Thanks for testing them out for me. How much do I owe you?"

"It’s on the house. I’d gladly check them, just for the pleasure of getting to see you, and the honor of getting to meet Curtis." He looked at me. "By the way, that’s a gnarly outfit you have on dude."

"Thanks, it was a Halloween costume, but I liked it so much, I decided to wear it for everyday."

"Good choice! Do you have any other vintage clothes?"

"Not yet, but I think I’m going to get some."

"You should. You really rock the look nicely." Then he looked at Uncle Harvey. "I’d stand here all day and talk, but I have some cars I need to work on." He shook my hand. "It was nice meeting you. Stop by and see me the next time you’re up this way." He paused for a second, reached into his pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to me. "I know Mr. Harvey goes to bed with the chickens. If you get too bored, give me a call, and we can go grab a beer or something."

After we got in the car, Uncle Harvey grinned. "I told you so. Old Man George is definitely gay, and he likes you. You should probably take him up on that offer of a beer."

I blushed.

When we got to his house, Uncle Harvey said, "Let’s get some pictures of you."

I laughed. "Let’s wait a while. I’m going to change clothes, and mow your yard. I need to get some sun on my neck."

He grinned. "You sure do, but are you sure you want to do that before we take pictures? You’ll look like a redneck."

"Hell yes, I want to get some sun. Better a redneck than a weird-ass clown."

"You may be right about that."

I took my coat, tie and shirt off, leaving the wifebeater and the pants on, thinking "Why do a complete change, when you’re just going to have to get dressed again?"

As I was mowing, I still had that stupid song "Macho Man" running around in my head. Then I got to thinking. "I really do feel more macho with my haircut. In fact, I feel like a real badass."

I couldn’t get the image of myself as a badass out of my head, and turned the mower off. I went to the bathroom, and just stared at myself. I had to admit I liked the look of the wifebeater with the suspenders. It looked like some old pictures I’d seen of men from the Forties. After looking a while, I thought, "Hell, yeah, Curtis. You do look like a badass, and it looks good on you."

I went back outside with a lot more confidence in myself than I had felt in years.

We had been right. By the time I got finished with the yard, my head was pretty pink, bordering on red, but I thought, "Better red than the white of a fish’s belly."

Uncle Harvey spent at least an hour taking pictures of me. He took pictures inside, and out. I posed in ways I never dreamed of. He even took pictures of me sitting in his old 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air. I kept thinking, "It’s going to cost a fortune to develop all of this film!" However, I loved seeing Uncle Harvey so happy, and just let him keep taking pictures.

I joked with him. "I’ll send you my bill for my modeling fee. I hear models make pretty good money."

He grunted. "Just because you send a bill doesn’t mean I’m going to pay it. Now, go stand by that tree."

I started running out of steam after a while, but perked up when Uncle Harvey said, "How would you feel about taking a picture in my old Army uniform? I still have it, and think it would fit you."

"That would be so epic! I’d love it. I could put the picture in a frame with your Army picture. I know just where I’ll hang it."

He went rummaging in his foot locker from his Army days (yes, he still had his original foot locker). "Here, try this on."

I shivered when I put it on, thinking about all he had gone through while fighting the Nazis, and what the uniform stood for.

The uniform fit pretty well, although it was a little big in the waist. Uncle Harvey gave me the once over, and said, "It looks good on you. Now take it off."

"Why? I thought we were going to take a picture of me in it."

"Don’t be silly, boy. No self-respecting sergeant would ever have a picture taken in a wrinkled uniform. I’m going to iron it, before we take pictures."

I tried to talk him out of ironing, but he wouldn’t listen.

After he got it ironed, I got dressed (again). I stood in front of the mirror for a while, just admiring how I looked. I remember thinking, "The haircut is so authentic that if I print a picture in black and white no one will ever be able to tell it’s not from WWII." Emotions rolled around in me, and I felt so proud, and I know I stood a little taller. It was almost as if the history of the uniform flowed into me, and gave me a sense of what it stood for. I know I have never been prouder to be an American than I was that day.

I walked into the living room. "Uncle Harvey, thanks for this. You’ll never know what it means to me."

"I think I can imagine. I remember the first time I put this uniform on. I got goosebumps."

After taking some more pictures of me in his uniform, Uncle Harvey said, "Come with me. I’ve got some things I want you to see."

We went into his bedroom, and he opened the closet, and pulled out several suits, four hats and some clothes that looked like they were from the Forties. "I haven’t always worn Dickey uniforms. I used to dress pretty nice, but I ain’t wore any of these things in near about thirty years. Is there anything you’d like? They’re yours if you want them."

I was awestruck, and went to check them out. I liked each outfit better than the last one. "Uncle Harvey, these are amazing, but I can’t take all of your clothes!"

"Why not? Besides, you’ll be doing me a mighty big favor. If I give you all my suits, I won’t have none for Marie to try to bury me in. Me giving you these here clothes will make your life easier now, and later on. You won’t have to go shopping to get clothes for your new look, and you won’t have to fight Marie over what to bury me in."

"I don’t like all this talk of burying, but I get your point. Ok, I’ll take the clothes…and thank you, Uncle Harvey. I’ll wear them proudly."

"One more thing. When I die, I want you to deliver my eulogy, and I’d be mighty honored if you’d wear one of these here suits."

Tears filled my eyes. "I’m flattered that you want me to do that, but wouldn’t you rather have Mom’s preacher do it? After all, he knows more about funerals than I do."

"I don’t want that filthy old, flea-bitten windbag anywhere near my funeral!" Then he grinned. "Just make sure you have a fresh haircut before you start my funeral. I don’t want no hippies anywhere near my dead body."

"Sir, yes sir. I don’t think you have to worry about that! I’ve had enough long hair to last me a dozen lifetimes. I reckon I’ll be at the barbershop every week for the rest of my life, just like some old codger I know."

While we were eating dinner, Uncle Harvey said, "Have you given any thought to how you’re going to explain things to your folks?"

I shook my head…and my spirits sank. "No sir. I’ve just been enjoying it." I rubbed my freshly shorn neck. "You can’t imagine how wonderful I feel. Thanks for the support."

He ignored my comment, and said, "What about your folks?"

I thought for a second. "Dad has always been cool with my hair, saying, ‘Kids will be kids’. I know he’s not keen on my long hair, so I figure he will be happy. Even if he’s not, he doesn’t make a fuss about things. He’ll roll with the flow. He might pick on me a little, but I’m sure he’ll be fine." I shuddered. "Mom, on the other hand, is going to have about a hundred conniption fits. I have no idea what to expect, but I’m pretty sure it won’t be pleasant. I don’t know if she’ll try to beat me, kill me or something else. One thing I do know, it won’t be pleasant."

"You’re right. Be prepared for the worst. It might be ok though."

I shrugged. "Maybe she’ll just yell at me a lot. I can handle that. I’ve got lots of experience dealing with her screaming." The devil jumped on my shoulder. "I have an idea that’ll make her be fine with it."

"Huh? I don’t think there’s a plan out there that’ll make her fine, but tell me what you’re thinking."

I started picking on him. "I don’t know if I should tell you, but it’s a really good idea. I’m a genius!"

"Stop playing around and tell me what the hell you got up your sleeve?"

"I think I’ll say something like, ‘Mom, Uncle Harvey told me had made millions in the stock market, but he was going to donate it to some charity. He said he doesn’t want any of his money to wind up going to a damned hippy like me, and he was afraid if he left it to you I’d get some of it so he was giving it to a charity. I told him I’d get a haircut if he’d leave the money to you." I grinned. "I’ll really play it up with crying and sobbing, saying ‘I really didn’t want to cut my hair, Mom, but I love you so much that I decided I would do it, just so you could get the money. Mom, the good news is Uncle Harvey went to his lawyer and wrote a new will. You’re gonna get all that money, but one of the conditions of his will is that I keep my hair short as long as he is alive’."

He hooted with laughter. "You might be onto something. That’s brilliant! Marie would probably start singing the Hallelujah Chorus if she thought there was money in it for her. She does love money. We oughta think this through. It might work."

He looked sad. "I wish I had millions of dollars, but I don’t. There ain’t much in my checking account. Y’all will get a little bit, but it ain’t gonna make you rich."

"Uncle Harvey, you’ve given me things that’s more important than millions of dollars. Hell, what you’ve done for me today is worth more than any money you could give me. I would be happy if you did leave what money you have to a charity."

I grinned. "Hell, make Mom really mad. Leave it to a foundation that works with gay kids."

I kept talking. "Now, back to the subject at hand. I’m not going to tell Mom anything but the truth. I’m going to tell her I decided to cut my hair because I wanted to, that I like my new look, and I’m going to keep it. I’ll remind her of what you said to me. She has two choices. She can either accept me for the gay, pipe smoking man with short hair that I am, or she can live her life without me in."

"Whoa! You’re going to throw all of that at her at one time. You’re a braver man than I am. I’d probably spread all of that over years if I were you."

"Yes, sir. I’m going to throw all of that at her at once. Why dread it for years, when I can just get it over with at one time?"

"I can’t fault that thinking, but I shudder to think about the hell she’s gonna put you through. I’m glad I ain’t gonna be the one who’s facing her."

I thought for a moment. "Today has shown me an inner strength I didn’t know I had. I’ll be OK. I look like a badass now, and I’m going to act like one too."

"You do look like a badass, and I’m proud of you."

We sat drinking our tea, and then Uncle Harvey said, "One more thing. You don’t have to live in east Texas the rest of your life. If it gets too hard, and you want to move somewhere else, you’re young, and can do it. If you move somewhere, and introduce yourself as you want to be, instead of what you’ve been, your new friends won’t know who you used to be, and won’t be near as likely to give you a hard time. It’s something to think about."

"Heck, you could stay with me for a little while if you wanted to, while you’re deciding what you want to do." He grinned. "You could use me as an excuse for your haircut. Just tell everyone I wouldn’t let you live under my roof with long hairâ€"which wouldn’t be a lie. I wouldn’t let you live with me, looking like you did when you got here this morning."

He kept going. "Think about it. We could sit on the porch in the evening, smoke our pipes and make fun of all the hippies walking by. That might be fun."

He punched me in the shoulder. "I’m gonna sweeten the pot. Don’t you be forgetting the hair-hater you met today. Old Man George is kinda cute. You might want to get to know him better."

"You’re right. He’s mighty handsome. I might just think about what you’re proposing."

We sat there for a while. "Uncle Harvey, before I start doing the dishes, I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"This morning I was trying to figure out why I’m such a hair-hater. Do you have any idea why you’re such a hair-hater?"

He thought for a second. "I know why I hate long hair, but it ain’t a pretty story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I ain’t going to get into that story without my pipe. Would you get it for me?"

I hopped up, and got both of our pipes. We went through the ritual of packing and lighting them. I looked at him, "I’m ready to hear this."

He shook his head, "I ain’t so sure I’m ready to tell it, but here goes."

"You probably already know that I grew up poor as a church mouse. Mama and Papa didn’t hardly have a pot to piss in, and they had fifteen kids to feed and clothe. When they had to choose between food for us kids or haircuts for the boys, food always won. Sometimes us boys would go six or eight months without a haircutâ€"maybe longer." He smirked. "When Papa did take us to the barbershop, he’d always say, ‘Give my money’s worth, Mr. Ike. I don’t want these boys to need a haircut for a long time." He stopped for a second. "Mr. Ike took Papa at his word. We always left his shop damn near shaved."

"As you know, children can be mean, and we boys got picked on a lot for our long, shaggy hair. The Hampton boys really gave us hell. They’d pick on us when our hair was long, and pick on us after we got a haircut." He grinned. "Well, they gave us hell until I got big enough to show them that they couldn’t pick on us any more." He looked very satisfied. "Old Man Hampton beat my ass for whooping his boys, but I’d take that ass whooping again, just for the pleasure of hearing the Hampton boys yell, ‘Uncle’."

"Even the grown ups would make comments like, ‘Boy, tell your pa you need to go to the barbershop.’

"Anyhow, I guess I got long hair mixed up with being poor, and I never wanted anybody to know I was poor. I quit school when I was nine, and went to work. I got a haircut with my first paycheck, and I’ve kept my hair short ever since. I guess it’s my way of telling myself I’m not poor."

I tried to imagine what that would’ve been like for him, and then a thought hit me. "Wow! I can’t imagine how all those years of seeing me with long hair must’ve made you feel. I’m sorry I did that to you. I wish I could change it."

He put his hand on mine. "You’ve always had the biggest heart, but honestly, I don’t think I confused your long hair with my long hair."

He started laughing.

"What?"

"You ain’t gonna believe this, but not too long ago one of my neighbors caught their son drinking, and they damn near shaved the boy’s head as punishment. That boy looked so ashamed, and I felt sorry for him. I went over there and gave his parents seventeen kinds of crap for cutting the boy’s hair. I actually said, ‘You’re supposed to punish a child to teach him a lesson, not shame him. I don’t reckon shame has ever taught a child a damned thing’."

My jaw dropped. "You said that? I would’ve thought you would’ve been glad to have one less hippy in the world."

"I ain’t opposed to disciplining a child, but I can’t abide to see them shamed. I reckon I like it if parents raise a boy with his hair short. The boy knows what to expect, and gets a sense of discipline from it. The boy may not like it none, but it don’t hurt him." He kept going. "Shaming a kid is different, and I expect it does some mental damage. I reckon shame just makes them feel resentful, and they’ll probably act out worse." He pointed at his neighbor’s house. "I suspect they didn’t teach that boy a thing. As soon as he can, he’ll probably let his hair get longer than it was, and do something worse than drinking when he gets a chance."

I thought for a second. "You may be right about that. Rebellion runs deep in teenagers."

Then he said, "You ain’t the only one who’s stole something."

"This oughta be good, Uncle Harvey. What else did you steal, besides some tobacco from your Papa?"

"Well, one time I was looking at pictures at Aunt Netty’s house. She’d taken a picture of us when all of us boys had long, messy hair. Just seeing that picture made me feel so ashamed I wanted to die. I stole it, and burned it up in her fireplace."

"Did you get caught?"

"No, I didn’t, but poor Aunt Netty remembered the picture, and looked high and low for months trying to find it. I wasn’t about to tell her I’d burned it. She would’ve tanned my hide good."

He looked up, "Aunt Netty, I hope you ain’t listening to me."

Then he said, "I’d do it again, even if it meant getting caught. I don’t want no reminders of them days."

Later, we sat on the porch, smoking our pipes, and watching the sun go down. "Uncle Harvey, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Go ahead, son."

"You said God had brought two men into your life that offered you love. Would you mind telling me about them?"

He got a dark, haunted look in his eyes. "I’ve never talked about either of them."

"It might make you feel better, and I’d love to hear the story."

"You may be right. " He took a deep breath. "Ok, I’ll tell you a little bit. I first got to know Alcide Boudreaux when I got to Germany. I called him Boo." He shook his head. "Alcide was a Cajun, and he was the sassiest, loudest, cussingnest, most contrary man I ever did meet. Trouble buzzed around him like bees buzzing around flowers. It seemed like the officers and NCO’s were always yelling at him about something he’d done. Hell just about everybody he ever met got pissed at him within just a mighty short time of meeting him. In fact, when I first met him, four grunts were trying to kill him."

I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t there with me. In his mind, he was back in Germany. "Boo was a tiny man, but he was strong as a mule. However, these big bastards were really giving him hell. I never could stand bullies, so I stepped in, and helped Boo out." He grinned. "I took some hard licks, but I also landed some mighty good licks. The bastards gave up, and left."

"I’ll never forget what Boo said, ‘That was fun. Thanks for the help, but I could’ve handled those goons. I’m Alcide, who are you?’."

"I said, ‘Like hell you could’ve handled them. You would’ve been nothing more than a heap of broken bones and a pool of blood if I hadn’t jumped in’."

"He laughed and said, ‘Maybe, but I sure would’ve had a lot of fun beating on them. I can guaran-damn-tee I would’ve made those assholes wish they’d picked some other bastard to fight with’."

"Anyway, we instantly became the best of friends."

I asked, "How did you become friends with him, if he was so contrary?"

"Well, Boo had a soft, gentle side. He just didn’t show it to everyone. He showed it to me, and I liked him."

I queried. "How did you know he came to love you?"

"Well, as you can imagine, things were a lot different back then, but we had ways of knowing. Boo was a little different. He was blunt. One day we were on guard duty, and he bluntly said, ‘Damn it, Harvey. I’m in love with your sorry ass, and every time I see you I get a goddamned cockstand. I wanna screw you so bad that my balls are blue."

I was shocked. "Wow! That was ballsy, and probably the least romantic thing I’ve heard. Did you have any clues?"

"I might’ve suspected, but honestly, I had been so steeped in religion that the idea made me sick. I thought I was going to throw up."

"What did you do?"

"All I could think of to say was, ‘What you’re talking about is a sin, and I ain’t interested’."

"Did you stay friends?"

"Yes, we were friends until the day he died." Tears started streaming down his face. "The only time I’ve ever kissed a man was right before Boo died. We were running for a foxhole, and he got shot. We made it to the foxhole, but both of us knew he wasn’t going to make it. His guts were all on the outside. He said, "Damn it Harvey, I could die a happy man if you’d just kiss my sorry ass before I go to hell."

"I kissed him, then put his head in my lap. I stroked his hair, while he bled out. Just before he died, he said, " Harvey, I love you, and I’m glad you’re the one with me at the end. I’ll tell the devil to save you a spot beside me."

Uncle Harvey looked troubled.

"What is it, Uncle Harvey?"

"I wish I had let him know that I loved him while he was still alive. I couldn’t get the nerve up to tell him until after he died. He was already gone when I finally whispered, ‘I love you too, Boo’."

Tears choked him for a minute, and then he said, "I’ve always felt horrible about that."

"Oh, Uncle Harvey, I’m so sorry for both of you. That must’ve been horrible for you."

"Yes, son. It was horrible. I don’t think I’ve ever really grieved for him like I should have. Once he was dead, I did what soldiers do. I picked up my weapon, and started shooting at the damned Nazis."

He sighed, "I don’t have no regrets about giving him that kiss. I guess I’ll always remember it." Then he looked at the sky and whispered into the night, "Boo, I’ll always remember you, and I still love you."

We sat in silence for a little while. Then I said, "Do you mind telling me about the other man?"

He shook his head. "No, I don’t mind. You already know him."

"I know him? Who?"

"Walt."

My jaw dropped. "Walt? Did you say Walt? Barber Walt? The Walt who just cut my hair?"

He grinned. "That’s the only Walt I know."

I laughed. "Oh, this is going to be good. I can’t imagine Walt being gay. To me, he’s more like a cigar-chomping, whiskey-guzzling hellraising womanizer."

"Oh, he’s definitely a cigar-chomping, whiskey-guzzling hellraiser, but he’s not a womanizer. He’s also got a heart of gold, lots of wisdom and a tenderness that’s endearing."

I was shocked. "I cannot imagine. Tell me more."

"Well, as you know, when I got out of the Army, I moved to Illinois, and lived there for several years. When Mama died, I moved back to Arkansas. Papa was getting on up in years, and he couldn’t control Marie. I moved home to help him out."

"Walt had just opened his barbershop, and I was one of his first new customers." He laughed. "Believe it or not, at that time, I only got a haircut every two weeks. I really liked Walt, and started going every week, just so I could visit him." He thought for a second. "Damn! That decision cost me a lot of money over the last thirty-three years!"

"Anyway, After about a year of going and getting my hair cut every week, Walt asked me if I’d help him build some new cabinets in his shop."

"Wait a minute! You built those cabinets? They were one of the first things I noticed when I walked into the shop. They’re gorgeous."

"Yep, Walt and I built those cabinets. He told me he loved me on the night we finished them."

I shook my head. "I cannot imagine Walt issuing tender declarations of love. How did he tell you he loved you?"

"I thought it was pretty romantic. Like I said, we had just got done building the cabinets, and we was having a drink to celebrate. The radio was on, and Al Hibler came on, and sang ‘Unchained Melody’. Walt said, ‘Harvey, I’ve known I love you for a long time, and I’d love to dance with you, and then kiss you when the song is over.’ Then he stood up, bowed and said, ‘May I have this dance?’."

My jaw dropped. "Whoa…that is sweet. I didn’t know the old coot had that kind of tenderness in him."

"Oh, you’d be surprised. He’s a teddy bear at heart."

"Obviously you turned him down. How did he take it?"

"He cried, and I didn’t have a damned clue how to deal with a crying man." He kept going. "We’ve been friends ever since." He paused for a second. "I don’t know if we’ve been friends, but we’ve been friendly. We’ve never been to each other’s house, or done anything social together." Another pause. "That’s probably for the best. I don’t know how we’d react if we ever met anywhere but the barbershop."

"Don’t you think it’s time to find out? You know what they say, it’s never too late."

"Oh, I think it’s too late for me. You know what they say about old dogs and new tricks. I expect I’ve been a bachelor for too long. I don’t reckon I could learn how to live with someone at this age."

"From my perspective, you’ll never know if you don’t try."

I jumped up. "I’ll be right back."

I ran in the house, and got his calendar. "You’re planning on going fishing Monday morning at 6:00. Why don’t you ask Walt to go with you?"

Uncle Harvey looked like he had seen a ghost. "How did you know?"

"Know what? I just know Walt is closed on Monday, and you’re going fishing. It’s a perfect opportunity for the two of you to spend some more time together."

"I wonder if what you just said is a sign from God."

"Huh? I’m sorry sir. I don’t understand."

"On ‘that night’ Walt said, ‘If you ever change your mind, just ask me to go fishing on a Monday morning. I’ll know what it means’."

"Wow! That’s freaky. Maybe God is using me to get your attention."

"I don’t know, but I’ll think about it."

"From my point of view, it looks like God has been trying to get your attention for years. A hair-hater like you meeting up with a hair-hating barber sounds like a match made in Heaven to me."

I grinned. "Just think how much money you’d save if you were to hook up with Walt. He couldn’t charge you for haircuts if he was your partner."

He grinned. "I never thought about that. Hell, I’d save $520 a year."

"Uncle Harvey, I just have one more thing to say about this, and I’m going to use your own words against you. Are you going to spend the next ten, twenty or thirty years being unhappy while trying to make everyone else happy, or are you going to choose to be happy and see if there’s still anything between you and Walt?"

"Well, when you put it like that, I think I might have to invite Walt to go fishing with me." He paused. "I might ask him, if I can get the nerve to do it."

I started clucking like a chicken, and he sounded irritated when he said, "Oh, shut the hell up."

I changed the subject. "I just realized. I don’t really know much about you as a man. I just know you as a grandfather figure. I like getting to know more about who you really are. I want to hear some more stories about you."

He shook his head. "I’ve been down memory lane enough tonight. Maybe some other time." He chuckled. "Hell, I’ve done talked more about personal stuff today than I have in my whole life. I’m plain tuckered out."

We sat silently for a while, and I idly looked through his calendar. Every day was filled with plans, and then I saw something, and started laughing. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe.

Uncle Harvey kept saying, "What? What?’ which just made me laugh harder.

When I finally got my laughter under control, I said, "Uncle Harvey, you are a lying, sneaky, conniving bastard!"

"What?"

"You told me you had scheduled to have your brakes checked today. It’s not scheduled for another six weeks!"

"I ain’t lied to you. I just said getting the brakes checked is on my calendar, which, as you can see, it is."

I laughed. "That’s so bogus, dude. You led me to believe it was on the calendar for today."

"It ain’t my fault if you heard what you wanted. I ain’t never said it was scheduled for today!"

"I remain, you are a lying, sneaky, conniving bastard. What possessed you to take me to meet George?"

"I don’t know."

I looked at him, giving him "the eye".

Then he grinned at me. "I ain’t saying it’s true, but a long time ago I might’ve had the thought that you two had a lots in common, and that there thought might’ve got stuck in my head. I might’ve remembered it when you told me you were gay today."

I laughed. " I don’t think I told you I was gay. I think you told me I was gay."

He grinned. "Maybe, just maybe you’re right, but it was about time someone admitted it. I didn’t want you to wind up like me."

He laughed. "I should’ve known I couldn’t pull off something spontaneous. I get in trouble every darned time I try. I’m going to just stick with planning everything at least six weeks out."

"That’s my Uncle Harvey. I’ve never met anyone as meticulous about planning as you are."

"Well, it works for me."

About that time, I heard a very loud truck. It pulled in the driveway, and George got out. I said, "The cobbler’s kids need shoes, and the mechanic’s truck needs a muffler."

George said, "Hi, Curtis. I thought I’d see if you were interested in that beer."

Uncle Harvey gave a big, ostentatious yawn. "I reckon it’s about time for all the old farts to head to bed. You young folks go have some fun."

Then he said, "I ain’t your father, and you don’t have a curfew here. Hell, I reckon you’re old enough to stay out all night if you want to."

Then he winked at me.

George and I both blushed.
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I haven’t been able to write anything since May of 2022. I’ve been dealing with depression and PTSD, and I just couldn’t come up with any inspiration. Last week this idea popped into my head. Like many of my stories, this story is a strange mixture of reality and fantasy. The characters are real, and some of the scenarios are real, and others are pure figments of my imagination. The ending may be a little too "feel good", but it’s how the story ends in my head.

I apologize for the length of the story. I had originally thought this would be a short, straightforward taleâ€"I visited Uncle Harvey and we went to the barbershop. As I began writing, the story kept revealing more of itself to me. Ideas popped up out of nowhere and I couldn’t stop the flow.

I also recognize that there are elements from previous stories in this one, but somehow, it worked in my head. I’ll try to be more original in my next story.

This is not my best work, but it feels good to be writing again.

Now I’m playing with the idea of continuing the George and Curtis story from Old Man George’s perspective. We’ll see how that turns out.

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