Free Unexpected Angel by Patrick McGhee Page A

off-the-wall political party, or a religious cult.  Being gay is not a side to be on.   It is not a disease.   It is not a mental condition.  It is simply the way some people think and feel and act.  As for being your uncle . . . If your mother gets wind of that, I hope you have one heck of a time explaining to her just exactly which side of the family I come from.  Your dad doesn’t have any brothers or sisters.  And your mom?  She has one sister who never married.  So, what is it?  How did I get to be your uncle?  Your mom is gonna latch onto that story like a crow on road kill.”
    Tony didn’t answer.  He wasn’t accustomed to Wally talking back.  He figured he must have pushed the wrong button.
    Wally walked to the entrance of the tire showroom and went inside.  He was greeted by a man in his forties, a pleasant looking gentleman--clean-shaven, short blond hair, captivating blue eyes.  “May I help you, sir?” the man said.
    “Yes,” replied Wally.  “My nephew needs some tires for his car.  It’s the green Mustang out front.” The words had hardly crossed Wally’s lips before he realized he had fallen into one of Tony’s lies, without even trying.
    The tire salesman smiled and pointed to some tires in the display window.  “We have these Navigator brand tires over here.  They are all-season, steel-belted radials, and they happen to be on sale.  Let’s see.  I can let you have them for $95 apiece.  That includes balancing, mounting, and disposal of the old tires.”
    “That will be fine,” said Wally.  “I will need to put them on my credit card.  Is that OK?”
    “Certainly,” responded the salesman.  “We accept MasterCard, Visa, and Discover.  Tell your nephew to pull around to the garage entrance at the end of the building.  Someone will be waiting, there, to drive the car into the mounting bay. Let me swipe your credit card so I can process the sale while they are putting the tires on the car.”
    Wally went outside to tell Tony where to move the car.  Tony rolled down his window and remarked, “I saw the tires that guy took out of the window.  That’s a budget brand.  I was hoping for a major brand, you know, to make a statement.”
     
    “Listen, Tony.  I use the same brand myself.  Can’t you just accept them as a going-away gift and quit whining around like a two-year-old child?”
    Tony retorted, “I was going to pay you back.”
    Wally snapped,  “You’ll do well to pay back the seven hundred for the down payment on the car.  Accept the tires as a gift.  Now, drive around to the end of the building.”
    Once in the mounting bay, Tony did not go to the waiting area as the signs indicated.  He remained with the car.
    The tire technician, a well-built young man around nineteen, didn’t ask Tony to leave the bay. He could sense Tony staring at him.  He looked at Tony.  He noticed the bulge in Tony’s jeans.  He saw that Tony kept adjusting himself, like there was some kind of critter about to break loose, and Tony had to keep it properly confined.  He figured Tony was being entertained.  No doubt, Tony would be a satisfied customer.
    Tony struck up the conversation, “Do you live around Brockton?”
    The young technician responded that he did.  He was a college student.  He had an efficiency apartment just a few blocks away.  The technician added, “Would you like to come see it?”
    “Yes,” said Tony.  “I would like that, and whatever else you want to show me.”
    The young man ran his tongue along the edge of his lips to moisten them.  He made eye contact with Tony.  The message was delivered.  Then he said, “OK.  Stop by around seven.  It’s 417 Neville Terrace, Apartment 3-G.”  The technician smiled.  Tingles went up his back as he anticipated becoming acquainted with Tony’s critter.  No doubt, he would get to pet it.  Perhaps, more.
    “Absolutely,” said Tony.  “I am sure I don’t have any other