Page 30 of Repentance and Absolution
Salmon was the most prevalent commodity in this town on the Skeena estuary. I recalled the strong odor of the fish canneries when we’d come into town back at the end of October. I reckoned the smell would be even more putrid in the heat of summer. I wasn’t bothered by the numbers in town decreasing o’er the winter. Oscar and I were trying to keep a low profile. We didn’t need the whole town wondering and gossiping about us, at least until we’d found our footing.
Oscar needed a pair of boots, so we went to the cobbler’s first. My boots were standing up well, and I figured I could probably get another couple of years out of them.
It had occurred to me that the way Oscar and I were when we were together seemed a tad on the strange side, considering we were supposed to be friends and not lovers. I liked to look after Oscar, and Oscar liked to be looked after, so at home, that worked out pretty well. But in town, if we were pretending to be buddies, we needed to act differently to that.
“What, you mean you ain’t gonna look after me like you do at home?”
“Not when we’re among other folks, no, I ain’t. You gotta act like you’re offended if I fall into the habit of bein’ the gentleman instead of the companion. Okay? Because sometimes I ain’t aware I’m doin’ it.”
“You think you treat me like a…lady? When we’re out and about?” Oscar gaped at me, demonstrating that he could actveryoffended.
“Not on purpose. No. I guess, just because of how I found you, and how we are together, sometimes I treat you kind of fatherly, and I don’t know how that’ll be taken, since we ain’t supposed to be father and son.” T’was hard to explain, and I was embarrassed. “Never mind. Forget it.”
“Oh, I ain’t never gonna forget it, Jimmy. I will let you know in no uncertain terms if I believe you’re tarnishin’ my masculinity. I reckon I deserve more respect than to be coddled like a child.”
I stared at him, surprised at such vehemence and certain he was being sincere, until he broke into a toothful grin and I realized he was teasing me. Oscar didn’t care a whit about preconceived or socially acceptable notions of masculinity. He was his own man and would do as he pleased—which was one of the things I loved about him, truly.
I, on the other hand, had a fragile-enough ego and didn’t like to think I was feminine, although Oscar teased me sometimes about the way I liked to keep the house clean and make the meals. T’was all in good fun. But I wanted to make sure we presented a believable picture of camaraderie in town, since our very survival depended on being accepted as friends who lived together for convenience.
It soon became clear that t’was a state of things we’d have to try harder to break.
“What kind of boots should I get, Jimmy? I ain’t got a clue,” Oscar said, looking at the footwear on offer at the cobbler’s.
I gave him a narrow-eyed look.
“What?” he said. Then realized how that had sounded.
“Oh. I mean, I’s just askin’ for your opinion, you know. I s’pose these ones would do.”
He picked up a pair of boots that I considered completely non-functional, and I had to bite my tongue. I gestured to a pair of leather stovepipe boots with a thick sole and high, supple sides.
“Well, I would have thought these might be good for riding and walking. Of course, it’s your choice. You’re the one…payin’ for ’em.”
I’d given him five dollars to spend on a new pair of boots and an extra dollar for anything else he wanted. I figured he’d load up on sweets at the general store with that dollar—or a part of it.
“That’s a fact,” Oscar said, putting the fancy boots down and picking up the other ones, giving me an amused glance, like we shared a private joke. “I s’pose you’re right. Although, ’tis a shame. I reckon I’d look nicer for thegirlsin t’other ones.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the shopkeeper stifle a smile as he shook his head, doing some figuring up with a pencil at the cash.
“The girls don’t care about boots, Oscar. They want a man can walk a few miles without gettin’ his feet wet.”
“Is that so?” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
I shrugged, pretending to examine another pair of leather footwear sitting on a wooden box. “I reckon.”
Oscar sighed, looking at the boots in his hand. “You’re prob’ly right. These ones are very fine, and that’s a fact. I think they’d look good on me, too.”
“Who cares how they look? You oughta be more practical, Oscar,” I scoffed, as if I did think he was annoying.
“Can I get those in your size, sir?” The clerk had made his way o’er and now stood in front of Oscar.
“Yeah, sure. ’Cept I don’t know what size my feet are…”
He started to turn toward me but stopped himself and simply shrugged.
“That’s quite all right. Have a seat— I have a measuring instrument.”
The shop clerk measured Oscar’s feet and declared him a size ten. I was a twelve, so I figured that must be about right. I focused on some leather cording on a hook that was available for saddles or…Hmm. I touched it with my fingers. T’was soft and pliable and might be perfect for—well, for what I had in mind. I wondered how much it cost. My mind went places it shouldn’t while I was in a public place, and I had to adjust myself with a subtle movement.
