Chapter Thirteen, A: The High Cost of Living in Calistoga

I thought a lot about what dad Dad said as I got ready for bed.   I wondered if this was the right path for me.   This path being not telling Jack what my intentions used to be.   I was not going to back out of a this relationship now.   Things had changed.   When I woke up I didn't think about Josh anymore.   I thought about Jack and what we would do that day.   Dad told me to treat him right and spend some money on him.   And that That was when I decided that I would take him on a date.   Not to any restaurant.   I would take him in to a park where we would have a picnic.   Cliché, right?   No, people are never too romantic.   There is a lot less romance in restaraunts full of people you don't know rather than a park with lantern and the person you are almost in love with.   I came up with the menu that night, in bed.   Chicken caesar salads, salmon (cooked to a recipe that Mike's wife taught me) and a nice white, perfect.

I woke up at noon.   I checked my messages.

You have two messages to review p- (BEEP)

First message.   Sent yesterday at eleven o'three p.m.

Hey Zach, this is Jack.   Just wanted to tell you that I had a great time.   Hope we can do that again . . . soon.   Well, call me back.   (BEEP)

To sa- (BEEP)

Second message.   Sent today at twelve twenty-three a.m.

Hey Zach, this is Jack again.   I guess you're asleep.   When you g-

My call waiting beeped.   I clicked over to the other line.

"Hello?"   I asked.

"Hey."   It was Jack.

"Hey."

Silence.   I wiped the sleep from my eyes and looked around my room.

"So, what's up?"   Jack asked.

"Nothing, I just woke up, really."   I replied.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

I felt something retangular in my back pocket.   Upon taking it out I relaized that I hadn't taken my wallet out of my pocket when I went to sleep.   The menu was under my right arm.

"What are you doing today?"   Jack asked me.

I had to ask him now.   "Well, I had planned for us to do something tonight."

I could see Jack smiling in his room.

"Really?"   Jack's voice raised to it's old pitch.

"Yep," I started to really look forward to this.   "It's going to be a night-time picnic in the Bothe-Napa Valley State Park.   You know that one, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good, 'cause we are going there.   The dinner will consist of caesar salad as an appetizer.   The main course will be salmon.   Not to get ahead of myself, but the salmon is going to rock your world!   . . . Served with dinner will be a nice Zihnfandel.   Of course, if a patrol rolls by, we'll have to stash it."

"When?"

"Your call."

"Sixish?"

"Cool, we'll meet at the entrance."

"Alright."

Jack and I hung up.   I wasn't sure why though.   There was still a lot of time that I could spend talking to him.   But I forgot about that as I quickly got wrapped up in getting the materials for our dinner.   It was harder to get the food than it was the wine.   And when I had gotten the food, my next challenge was to decide whether to cook it there or not.   It would be easy enough to cook the salmon on the grills they had in the park.   The salmon would only take 45 minutes.   I decided to make the salad before I left and to make the main course on the grills there.   Once I had everything together, I had carefully packed and re-packed them into my bag.   Right before I left to for the park, I packed a small barbecue and some sodas into my trunk.

I showered and wore my black kahkis and expensive black, silk, shirt and an expensive pair of black dress shoes.   This was all to be complimented by a brown cordueroy jacket (not too expensive) .   I arrived at the park five minutes early.   I spent every five seconds of those five minutes picking a stray piece of lint off my pants.   My pant ' s were not linty by any means.   One's mind plays with him when they are he is anxious and wondering if they look he looks okay.   Jack rolled in a minute early.   When his eyes caught me in mid-pedal, he hopped off his bike and straightened his clothes.   Jack went for the ever so different approach at casual wear.   He was wearing a pair of green parachute pants, a tight green T, combat boots and a camoflauge jacket.   My stomach lurched when I saw what he was wearing.   I saw what had happened in that dank basement between Mel, Jack, Sean, Josh and me.   I was too focused on what he was wearing to pay attention to his greeting.

"Earth to Zach."   Jack said.

"Sorry, man,"   I apologized.   "You look nice is all."

Jack smiled, "Thank you.   You don't look so bad yourself."

"I hope your hungry."   I told Jack.

"I am," he replied.

I took out the carefully folded parcel from my trunk and we walked into the park.   The sun was starting to set a little.   It was six and in the summer still set.   It was six o'clock on that summer night so there was still some light to go before it got dark.   Jack carried the larntern for me.   He and I took another path that was less walked.   (And, therefore, less patrolled.)   We walked several hundred feet until we reached a clearing with two picnic tables and three grills.   I spread the clothe on the table and Jack lit the lantern and the citronella candles.    I set out the wine and he tossed the dressing into the salad.

"Looks good."   Jack said, looking at the salad, expecting more.

"That's not it," I said to him, "Don't eat too much because I am going to get the salmon started right now."

I lit the barbecue and prepped the salmon.   This special recipe wasn't very special.   It was basically salmon with the bones and skin and a nice covering of brown sugar and rum.   (Plus a few extra good ingrediants.)   When the salmon is done, you can lift the bones out of the meat.   A pretty cool trick I learned from Mike's wife.

Jack looked a little nervous, sitting by me on the bench.

"You cool?"   I asked him.

"Yeah, just . . ."   Jack stopped.   He thought I would think what he wanted to say was dumb.

Could this be his first date?   I wondered.   "Just . . . ?"

"Nothing, it's cool, nevermind."

Jack stared at the hearts and initials that had been carved into the wood of the table over all of its years.   I went back to the salmon, making sure that it was going to be okay.   Then, I sat down on the bench opposite of Jack.   Jack took a nother swig from the bottle.   I took two more and stopped.   I was going to drive Jack home and I didn't want to be drunk.   The thought that Jack could be on his first date was eating me up.

"Is this your first date?"   I asked him straight up.

Jack blushed,   "Sort of."

"Sort of?"   I smiled at him, "It's cool.   This won't hurt."

Jack smiled back and took another nervous sip out of the bottle.   I had brung brought glasses.   The way that he was savaging the bottle made me think that he didn't need a glass.   I noticed the face that Jack made this time, when he tasted the wine.

"UGH!" Jack said.

"What's wrong?"   I asked him.

"It's terrible!"   An exclaimation from Jack that would make only me laugh.

"Hey, it's not bad,"   I retorted, "It's cheap!"

"Yeah."

More swigs are taken.   I take took one more and Jack takes took three.   We get got to talking about school.   Jack hated Drama.   They were working on a parody of "Plane Nine From Outer Space", written and directed by Ed Wood.   Ed Wood was voted THE WORST DIRECTOR OF ALL TIME.   Jack was cast ed as Col. Tom Edwards; full-time colonel, part-time UFO Cover-up cover-up theorist.   He has had to memorize a lot of irrational lines.   He told me that   Noah, suprisingly enough, was a very good actor.   He was playing an antagonist though.   Which would be easy for him.

"So let's talk about . . . err, sex."   Jack had, most noticably, lost his inhibitions.   "Boxers or briefs?"

"Boxer-briefs,"   I replied, "You?"

"Boxers- cut or uncut?"

"Uncut."

"Uncut."

We both giggled.   A sweet smell wafted towards me as the breeze changes changed directions.   The salmon was ready.

"Salmon's ready."   I told Jack.

"Cool."   He giggled again.

I felt slightly light-headed as I got up and walked towards the barbecue.   I'll still be able to drive.   I thought.   I lifted the foil off of the grill and brought it to the table.   Jack wouldn't be able to secure the barbecue so I did it myself.

"Mmm, smells good."   Jack complimented me.

"Hold the compliments until we see how it looks."   I removed the foil.

Inside was a perfectly cooked salmon.   The salmon, when I looked at the center, was the pink it should be.   I cut the salmon it length-wise and pulled out the bones.   I then cut each halve half into four parts and served them.   I waited for Jack to taste it before I did.

"Mmm!   Good!"   Jack's eyes widened as he said it.   Was he surprised that I could make something like this?

"Thanks."

We ate the salmon in silence.   Silence during a meal isn't a bad thing.   It's escpecially not a bad thing when the person you are cooking for has just shoveled down two pieces of salmon.   Jack had three or four more drinks and I knew that he wouldn't be down for a good half an hour, at least.   I talked with him more until I felt confident with my driving skills.   We packed up together (Jack as much as he could) and loaded the trunk.

I took Jack's hand to lead him to the car.   He must have interperted it incorrectly, as he was against had me against the side of the car in a second.   Jack's mouth was all over me.   I could feel it on mine, the tongue probing erratically and then it would be on my neck, biting and licking.   His breathe wreaked of cheap wine.   I stopped Jack when his hands went to my pants.

"No,"   I told him.

“No,”  I told him.

Jack looked surprised that I said no.

I smiled at him and slid my hands down over his package, caressing him and elicting a low groan.

“Let’s go home, Jack.”  I told him.

“Okay,” He said.