“Damn!” Cameron Mitchel exclaimed at lunch as he sat in the staff lounge of the software design company where he worked. The group gathered there were watching the weather report on the news. A dorky looking weather guy, who looked like he was practicing the hula as he gave his forecast, had just proclaimed that the city’s string of ninety degree plus days with high humidity, would continue through the upcoming holiday weekend.
“What’s the problem?” co-worker, Alan Grafton, asked as he munched on a bag of Doritos. “You got something against hot summers?”
“Yes, when your A/C has been out in your condo for the past week and the super tells you it’ll be another week before they get around to fixing it, I do!”
“That’s rough, Cam. I hope they’re giving you a break on your rent,” Margaret Maxwell, another programmer added.
“Fat chance!” Cam replied. “Not bad during the week when I’m here at work, but the nights are hell, and now with the long weekend coming up. You can only spend so much time at the bars before they kick you out for loitering if you’re not buying enough drinks. Besides, I have my dog. I can’t let him suffer alone in this heat.”
“Churches are air conditioned. You could go there on Sunday,” Alan teased.
Cam knew Alan was aware of his aversion to religion, based on his overly-strict Catholic upbringing.
“Very funny,” Cam retorted.
“Why not get out of town for the weekend—go somewhere cool?” Margaret offered.
“Would be nice,” Cam said. “But funds are short. I couldn’t afford it.”
“My folks have a cabin on Horseshoe Lake near Traverse City. It’s available this weekend. Dad told me they weren’t going up, because—uh—for some reason. I forget what. Anyway, I know they wouldn’t mind if a friend of mine used it,” Alan suggested.
“That’d be great,” Cam replied. “But what about you? What are you doing this weekend? Wouldn’t you want to get up north, away from this heat?”
“I’d love it, but Jenny and I are painting the living room,” Alan said with a frown. “Ah, the joys of wedded bliss.”
Margaret chuckled. Cam smiled. Although same sex marriage was now legal in Michigan, the thought of life tied to one partner didn’t appeal to Cam very much. Much of that attitude was generated by two failed long-term relationships which had made him gun-shy. One of his lovers, Danny Richards, had turned out to be a bully, the other, Mickey O’Rouke, a philanderer. Cam had promised himself that sex would be just for that, sex alone; there was no need to add emotional attachment to the equation. Despite what his therapist told him, relationships only led to pain and heartache. But Cam had to guard himself. He fell in love easily, too easily. He often found himself in over his head by the time he realized he had made a mistake. That was how it had been with both Mickey and Danny.
Cam had met Danny at a bar, spent a weekend with him. Danny had moved into Cam’s place the next week.
Mickey was even worse. They’d met while shopping at the grocery store. Mickey had come on to Cam. They went back to Cam’s condo and Mickey never left—not until Cam threw him out.
“Well, if you’re sure it’ll be all right with your folks…” Cam said to Alan.
“Absolutely! They’re always saying it’s a shame the cabin sits empty so much of the time.”
“Oh, but what about my dog? I’d want to bring Mr. Magee. I hate to board him,” Cam added.
“No problem! They have a beagle and a lab. They take them up all the time.”
“Okay then,” Cam said enthusiastically. “Thanks, I’d love to get out of my sweatbox of an apartment for a while.”
“Go for it, man,” Alan said. “Enjoy!”
* * * *
Friday afternoon, Cam picked Mr. Magee, his tri-color basset hound up from doggy day care and was on the freeway headed out of the city in his yellow Ford Mustang as fast as he could manage. He slipped a CD into the dash player. As strains of a Barbra Streisand classic burst from the speakers, Cam leaned back and relished the cool of the air conditioning. He reached out to stroke Mr. Magee’s long ears and sighed.
“Ah, feels good to get out of the city heat, and be headin’ for the cool of Northern Michigan, doesn’t it, boy?” Cam said to the dog sitting in the passenger’s seat.
Mr. Magee turned his big head with his droopy sad eyes and floppy ears, and licked Cam’s hand.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Now, you let daddy know if you need to go and we’ll stop, okay?”
Mr. Magee lowered his head—which accentuated the folds of skin on his face, making his eyes look even more pathetic—and gave a soft woof.
