"I can't stand it anymore!"
It seized Harry in a stubborn, vicious grip, squeezing his heart, flooding his senses, refusing to let go.
Restless yearning.
That was the name he'd given it, for lack of a better term. It seemed fitting. And unfortunately, it was happening again. Harry took a deep, fortifying breath, trying to abort it. Not to be denied, it clung tenaciously.
Shuddering internally, Harry steeled himself for the onslaught that became more formidable by the second. Actually, restless yearning was a fairly accurate description, considering he was mostly a down to earth kind of guy, and he'd never experienced anything remotely like it before.
Lurking just out of his reach, it taunted him, beckoned, flirted with his more base instincts. His hidden, wilder side, he supposed. But Harry could hardly be referred to as "wild," so everything about this was foreign and bewildering to him.
Restless yearning or wild desperation? Which was it? Or was it both?
Harry stood at his kitchen window, staring out wistfully. What was calling to him? All he could do, for the moment, was to surrender to this not-so-vague longing that tore at his precarious grip on himself, on his reality.
All that met his eyes was concrete and apartment buildings. It was crushing him. He fidgeted, shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He couldn't keep still. Something nameless was building up, with nowhere to go. He felt a smothering closeness, as if a heavy blanket had been thrown over his head.
Then, without warning, he spun around, giving vent to a sudden, uncharacteristic outburst.
"Audrey! I feel like I'm goin' mad!"
He pinned a haunted expression on his friend who gasped aloud at his eruption.
"I'm claustrophobic. Life is too predictable. I feel like just runnin' away! What's wrong with me?"
Alarmed, Audrey stared at her closest friend in the world, totally confounded, and feeling helpless to accommodate or console him.
She looked momentarily perplexed, then suddenly threw her head back and laughed like a maniac until she cried-literally.
Harry glared at her with contempt. How dare she laugh at him! He hadn't meant it to be amusing. Obviously Audrey had no clue as to how serious this feeling of his was becoming. Here he was, all ready to pour his heart out to her, and she had just made him feel like five times a fool.
This was very unlike Audrey, his confidant, the only one he had ever been able to tell everything to-his dreams, hopes and fantasies, without fear of judgment or ridicule. But for some reason, this particular grievance of his had caused her to lapse into hysterics.
"Audrey! I wasn't jokin' 'round, for Heaven's sake! I was serious!"
Audrey immediately squelched the laughter and etched what she hoped was a properly contrite expression on her face as she wiped away the tears of laughter that had been streaming down her face. It was just so . . . unlike Harry.
"Harry, I'm sorry. You caught me off guard. But you've got to be kidding, big-time."
Audrey peered into his startlingly beautiful forest green eyes that were darkened with fretfulness, trying to read his innermost thoughts, something she was better at than anyone else on earth, she silently assured herself. Except for maybe his mother.
"Well, I wasn't. I've always dreamed of livin' somewhere out in the wide open spaces, ridin' horses, livin' the way people lived a hundred years ago; the simple life. I hate this concrete jungle! Sometimes, like right now, I feel like I can't stand it for another minute!"
"That sounds great, but if you're really serious, how would you get away with that? There's something more that's brewing in the back of that gorgeous curly head of yours. You can't fool your best friend, Haz.''
She went on, realization dawning on her slowly. "Wide open spaces, riding horses. There's a reason for this madness of yours-a big element-cowboys."
Audrey grinned knowingly. "Don't they happen to go conveniently with wide open spaces and riding horses?" She cocked an eyebrow impishly.
Not for one second could Harry argue with her simple logic, or deny how he felt about cowboys. Not to Audrey. She knew him like a book, and he had never attempted to hide his undying, obsessive passion for cowboys from her.
Not the guys that simply dressed like cowboys, mind you, but real cowboys. The kind with calloused hands roughened by hard ranch work, well scuffed boots that were used for everyday riding, not sitting in closets for special occasions, Stetson hats, Wrangler jeans. The real deal.
For as long as he could remember, Harry had been fascinated by cowboys. But when he'd become a teenager, they had begun to really make his heart flip-flop all over the place, made him breathless with their rugged, independent masculinity.
Brave, strong. For Harry, there was simply nothing else like a cowboy. Lawyers and doctors had nothing on them.
And incidentally, for as long as he could remember, Harry had known he was gay. He'd tried dating girls and flirting, but the feelings just weren't there. He'd tried really hard to be like the other lads where he had grown up in England, but from deep within, he'd known he was different from the start. And so, ashamed, he'd kept it hidden.
No one knew he was gay. No one but Audrey. Some people might have their suspicions; he didn't know about that, but he'd told no one on earth but his best friend. Not even his mother.
He'd played along at school, imitating what the other lads had done, acting as if he was interested when girls were discussed, but after several attempts, he'd given up on dating. When his friends asked him about never seeing him out with anyone, he'd blamed it on too much homework and errands at home. If anything, they might have suspected he was asexual, but that was better than being made fun of for being homosexual. He knew how gay guys were ostracized, and he was a typical teen who needed to feel accepted by his peers. Life was hard enough as it was.
"Okay, okay. So that's part of the whole picture," he now admitted to Audrey. He was comfortable talking to her about it.
"Yeah, like, cowboys turn me on, but so does fresh air, the country, and everythin' that goes with it."
Audrey contemplated this for a moment.
"Well, we all have our dreams. Too bad it isn't possible to always be able to pursue them," Audrey looked pensive as she pondered the idea.
"I believe it is possible to pursue our dreams," Harry insisted. "All we have to do is act on it."
"What? Just up and move to Wyoming, Texas, Montana, or some other cowboy country?"
"Why not? Isn't it true that if you don't go for your dreams when you're young, that when you're old you'll be sorry, and never forgive yourself? Isn't that what people in nursin' homes talk about? And the old men who sit on their porch swings and brood about what they should have done when they were young, strong and adventurous? And grieve because they'll never get another chance?"
"Yeah, but you've got to be practical too. I mean, you'd have to think about how you'd support yourself, for one thing. And that's just one factor. There are dozens of others. You know that-you're an intelligent guy. You can't be rash."
Harry was becoming frustrated in trying to explain, and Audrey was beginning to experience a vague but definite prickle of unease as she studied the strangely untamed, reckless look in Harry's eyes.
"But," argued Harry, "If you never take a chance, never risk anythin,' how would you ever know what you might have had? Like I said, isn't that the main regret most old people have? That they never lived for the moment? That they never just went for it? I don't want that to happen to me."
Audrey was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. She had never seen Harry so passionate about anything. Except maybe singing. He didn't do it professionally, but he was fantastic at karaoke.
His eyes carried an odd gleam; he was much more animated than he'd been in months. True, she had known he was jaded with his job as a veterinary technician, and had been becoming more and more irritable as of late. But Audrey had just assumed he'd been tired, bored, perhaps just a little depressed with the same day to day routine. Something nearly everyone went through from time to time.
But not for a moment had she considered he was truly displeased with his life. This restlessness that was suddenly so evident was startling, especially coming from her nearest and dearest friend.
"Boy, I thought I knew you pretty well, Harry, but I guess I never realized how bummed you really are with your life."
"Audrey, you just hit the nail on the head. It's not just one or two things, but me life in general. I've been thinkin' about it a lot lately. I'm only twenty-three years old. I have me whole life ahead of me.
"I live in this nice little San Diego community, in a nice little apartment, have a job, and good health. It seems as if I'm all set up, and I'm sure lots of people would think I'm being ungrateful. I'm not ungrateful, but . . . there's something missin.' Hell, there's a lot missin.'"
"Like what?"
"Audrey, either you're not listenin' to me, or I'm not makin' meself very clear," Harry fought down the exasperation of not getting through to her.
"I guess I'm just not a city boy at heart. Takin' me ridin' lessons is great, and I'm grateful I can do that, but I want to be able to ride a horse out in the country, not an arena. Far away from the city, traffic, distractions. Do sommat useful with me hands. Not have to worry about restrictions, feel the wind in me hair, clearin' me mind. Smell fresh air instead of smog. Wake up to the sound of roosters crowin' instead of semi trucks."
"That all sounds romantic, but where's the pragmatic Harry I know? Responsible, dependable, reliable. How could you just up and take off to this fantasy land and leave all your responsibilities and worries behind? It's just not possible."
"Number one, it's not a fantasy land. Places like I describe do still exist. Texas for instance, has a lot of wide open spaces. It's massive. I read its two hundred sixty-seven thousand square miles. I'm sure you've heard how many huge ranches are out there. Real workin' ranches.
"Number two, I wouldn't be leavin' behind me responsibilities. I would simply settle everythin,' tie up loose ends before leavin.' Do it the right way. Then I'd start a whole new life for meself."
"You talk as if you're actually considering it!" Audrey was flabbergasted. Harry was probably the most unlikely person she knew to do something so imprudent. He was the type that would flip out if one of his bills was paid late; he always had ridiculous amounts of food in his apartment just "in case" of a major earthquake or some other disaster; he was never, ever late to work; he kept a savings account of several thousand dollars that had taken years for him to save, and never touched it unless there was an urgent, absolutely necessary expense such as a car repair or emergency room visit. Nothing else qualified to withdraw a penny. And he staunchly stuck by it. Audrey had never known him to borrow money from anyone.
"I wish I had the courage to really do it, to tell you the truth. If I did, I'd give me two weeks' notice today, and be gone just as soon as I possibly could," Harry declared.
"But where would you go? Do you even know?" Audrey was incredulous. This was so not Harry. What had possessed him? But Audrey was able to appease herself with the thought that talking about doing something and actually doing it were two very different things.
Everyone had fantasies. This was just one of his more intense ones, she supposed. But then, Harry was an especially intense person. He didn't show that side of himself to many people. She, Audrey, was one of the honored few.
"But that's just it-the adventure. I'd just take off and go wherever the mood took me. That's the whole point-just get in the car and start drivin' until I find some place I might like to stay. I've always dreamed of doing sommat like that."
Harry's eyes twinkled eerily. She had to admit it spooked her.
"Harry, I'm glad I know you as well as I do. If I didn't, I'd almost be convinced you were really considering doing it."
Harry bristled. Well, as much as he was capable of bristling, the gentle soul that he was.
"What if I really am?"
""You just wouldn't."
Audrey was a year younger than Harry, twenty-two. She was going to school to become a nurse. She was ambitious. She was rational, sweet and kind. They were very much alike, and Harry cherished their friendship. He sympathized with her in a way—he'd be just as stunned if she had come out and declared the same thing he had.
Audrey had been attracted to Harry almost from the moment she'd met him in an English class in their senior year of high school. He'd come over from England that same year, having talked his mother into letting him come to the U.S., something he'd always wanted to do. He was nearing eighteen anyway, so she had relented after much discussion, some of it heated. In the end she'd had to admit to herself that her little boy was no longer a child. He'd be a man in a few months, and would do as he pleased anyway.
He had lived with an aunt in Chula Vista until he'd come of age, less than a year later, graduated high school, then he'd gone to school to become a veterinary technician for two years, meanwhile getting a part time job in a bakery, and his own place in nearby San Diego, flying back to visit his mother regularly. His mother had helped him out since he was struggling with both school and a job.
Once he had become a certified vet tech, he'd gotten a job that had opened up in a vet hospital, and officially had begun life on his own, no longer needing his mother's financial help. It was a proud moment for him.
Audrey was a regular client at the hospital, and the two had maintained their friendship during Harry's schooling, mostly over the phone as Harry had had very little time for socializing. By this time they'd been friends for five years.
Audrey remembered with fondness when she'd brought her dog to the hospital where Harry worked for the first time. Her dog had been limping, and Harry had taken him to the back when the vet had suggested x-rays. He'd made her feel woozy the moment she'd laid eyes on him. He'd matured, and was even more attractive than he'd been in high school.
He'd had medium-short hair then, much shorter than it was now. His curls had enchanted her, but moreso his clear green eyes and dimples, and even more than that, his disposition. She was convinced that not one other person in the world was anything like Harry. He had filled out and was no longer scrawny, but was still a little bashful. He was the definition of compassion and good manners to top it all off. He'd been very kind to her dog and he'd always made her feel she could trust him. So unlike all the other boys. And his charming British Cheshire accent had been the absolute icing on the cake.
Even though he was still shy now, he'd been painfully so in high school, but with maturity had come the ability to realize his lot in life, and face it, and he'd unveiled the fact that he was gay to Audrey a year after they'd met. Of course, Audrey had wondered why he didn't date, and in fact, showed none of the lust for girls that she had come to expect from boys. He'd never come on to her either, much to her dismay, but she'd figured that for one reason or another, he just wasn't attracted to her.
So learning he was gay answered a lot of her questions. He was sensitive and emotional, and though he didn't act feminine, he had the mindset of a gay guy, now that she thought about it. A little flamboyancy peeked out every great once in a while, if he'd had a little too much to drink-but only if they were alone-never in front of others. He had a certain delicacy and innocence about him too that was missing in the other guys she knew.
His hair had gotten longer-it was now below his shoulders, and if it were possible, he'd gotten even more handsome. He was actually handsome and irresistibly cute in one package. So much so that he got a lot of stares that he seemed oblivious to.
At this point Audrey had had to resign herself to the fact that she would never win his heart. She was female, and he just wasn't into the fairer sex. She felt sorry for him, as Harry did not try to find a boyfriend. He was just too shy, and probably also afraid of rejection, and her heart ached for him. As far as she knew, he was a virgin, even at the age of twenty-three.
But if she couldn't have him as a boyfriend, having him as her dearest and best friend was the next best thing, she supposed. Now she valued his priceless friendship more than anything in life. So this jarring confession on Harry's part about running away just about scared the hell out of her. She just couldn't fathom not having Harry around. He was a staple in her life.
Now that Harry looked the best he ever had, Audrey had found him increasingly hard to resist. So many times she'd had to force herself not to touch him in a romantic way.
"Harry, you're forgetting your best friend," she whined.
Öh no, I'm not! Audrey, you should come with me!" He meant it too. Harry never said anything he didn't mean.
Actually, Harry had only been playing with words, indulging himself in his little mind game for kicks, and he hadn't realized how alarmed Audrey was becoming until he saw the barely concealed apprehension in her eyes.
Someone else probably wouldn't have noticed, but Harry and Audrey communicated almost without the need for words. Their affinity was remarkable.
"You know I can't do that Harry. I'm in school to become a nurse, and I'd never walk away from that. Otherwise, I'd probably follow you to the ends of the earth."
Harry smiled, his dimples playing hide and seek. "Ï know. And I'm not serious. I was just lettin' wishful thinkin' carry me away. Of course I could never just take off and leave me job, me apartment, and most of all, you! It's just a pipe dream."
Audrey knew his comforting words should have eased her mind, but for some reason, she remained on edge. You could almost smell it-it hung heavy in the air- Harry's restlessness was tangible.