Two Sides of the Same Coin by Jake Mactire Page B

a license number. I didn’t think it was too smart, but he took off on his own. He’s really worried about the ranch and about you. I hadn’t gotten too far when I decided to tie my horse to one of the trees. I did that and was creepin’ along real quiet like when I stepped on some loose scree. I lost my balance and slid to the side. All of a sudden the tree right about where my head would have been splintered, and I heard the sound of a gunshot. If I hadn’t of slipped, my head would be splattered all over the place. I figured the best way to save my ass was to get behind somethin’ like one of the big boulders in the area there. I was lucky because there was one only about fifteen, twenty feet away. I think I made it in one jump. Whoever it was shot at me a few more times, but then the shots stopped. I wouldn’t mind another shot of whiskey, if it’s okay.” I poured a shot into his glass. This time he drank only half before he continued. I was still sipping my first shot.
    “I heard a few more shots in the distance after a few minutes. It was in the direction Wayne had gone, so I headed over there, tryin’ to keep rocks, trees, or anything between me and the direction the shots had come from. I came down into a little hollow that looked as if horses had been hobbled there. Lots of small steps and lots of horse shit. Then I looked and saw Wayne. He was in the middle of the hollow, lyin’ on his back and holdin’ his side. I ran over and saw he wasn’t hurt too bad, but bleedin’ some and in a lot of pain. I used my handkerchief and my bandana to stop the bleedin’ as much as I could and then helped get him back to his horse. I left him for a few minutes. I got my horse and we came back. By the time we got back here, Wayne was lookin’ pretty bad. I called the sheriff and search and rescue. They got here pretty quick, and about ten minutes later you got here.” He gulped the rest of his whiskey.
    “Shit, Jeff, that coulda been me! I coulda been shot out there. The bullet just missed my head by a bit.” He was shaking now and looked pretty freaked out.
    “You’re okay, buddy. You’re here, you’re safe, and Wayne is getting some good care.”
    He was still shivering a bit. I grabbed a throw blanket from off the back of the couch and tucked it around his shoulders. I could tell the whiskey was starting to hit him. His movements were becoming more exaggerated and slower.
    “Thanks, Jeff. You’re one hell of a guy. You know that?”
    “You ain’t so bad yourself, buddy. Don’t sell yourself short.”
    “Thanks. You know, I reckon you’re about the first real friend I ever had.”
    I didn’t really know how to answer that, so I just smiled at him. He turned away and stared into the fire for a few minutes.
    “Jeff?” Mike turned to me. He was obviously drunk now.
    “What’s that, buddy?”
    “A year ago, if someone had told me I’d be sittin’ here after gettin’ shot at, drinkin’ with a gay guy who I’d told that I was gay and feelin’ okay about it, I woulda laughed at ’em. Or kicked the shit outta ’em.”
    “So what changed for you, buddy?” He leaned back—flopped back might be a better way of putting it.
    “I like it when ya call me buddy, Jeff. It makes me feel kinda special. It reminds me we’re friends.” He drew a long breath and continued. “I guess just seein’ you. You’re gay and all, but you’re a real man. You act like a guy. You don’t take no shit, but you can still be real nice. I heard Sandy teasin’ you in a good way about bein’ gay, and you just laughed with her. That’s so cool, Jeff. I wish I was as okay with me as you are with you.”
    “You will be, buddy.”
    Mike smiled at me when I said “buddy.” He grinned at me. His eyes were unfocused from the whiskey.
    “After all what you went through as a kid, I’m surprised you’re not really fucked up. You’re gonna realize that you’re a real guy, too, and a gay guy. The two don’t cancel