#Cornelius Hornwell

[aloof-cold-hands]

Womanly Man (short story- William and Cornelius)

Note- this short story was originally crafted for a college course, which had a very strict page limit. Therefore, many sections were condensed.

Cornelius first met William at the third quarterly meeting of the law firm, in which Cornelius was wedged in an olive green chair with his waist dipped over each arm. His collared shirt stuck to his damp skin, and when he breathed his nose whistled quietly. Cornelius’s forehead was glossy and his eyes were strained into a squint behind thick glasses as he pretended to read over one of his attorney’s cases. Coworkers discussed finances, papers flipped, and Cornelius rubbed the side of his face.

A thin man in a cream colored suit set his file down across from Cornelius. When the man sat in his chair, he crossed one leg over the other, then tucked a piece of silk hair behind his ear. Each arm of his chair was wide on either side of his curved waist, which his suit hugged snuggly. He leaned forward and placed his elbow on the table, then placed his palm on his cheek. He peeled open the file he had set down, skimming it.

 His cheekbones were pronounced, almost skeletal, and his sleek nose came to a pointed tip. His eyes were heavy, much like Monroe’s, but this man was missing her birthmark and red lipstick. He was young.  He looked up at Cornelius, and Cornelius looked at him. To Cornelius, the man was womanly.

It was the annual office Christmas party when Cornelius met William a second time. Paper reindeer were strewn across the ceiling and tinsel hung off the reception desk. The company’s complimentary “holly jolly” pencil holders were lingering beside every type writer. “Lonely This Christmas” lazily whirred from a record that the manager, Larry, had set up. 

Cornelius stood just beside the buffet table holding a paper cup that was stained pink from wine. On his head sat a headband with felt antlers. He was the only legal assistant that had attended, all of the mingling parties around him were attorneys. 

He breathed deep and slow through his nose, and he watched the red wine in his cup swivel.

For the fourth time that night, Cornelius gripped the cold neck of the bottle and tipped the lip over his cup. The wine poured in glugs till the cup became weighted again. After he set the bottle down, he wiped his hands on the side of his pants.

Slim fingers slid across his back, and Cornelius stepped to the side.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cornelius said.

“Pardon me.” 

The blonde man from the quarterly meeting gave Cornelius a close mouthed smile. The man poured himself a cup of water from the dispenser on the table, and Cornelius removed his felt antlers.

“I don’t believe we’ve met properly,” The man said.

“No, uhm…,” Cornelius replied.

“May I ask for your name?”

“Cornelius.”

“Hello, Cornelius.”

Cornelius took a sip of his wine, and the man took a sip of water. 

“Yours?” 

“Call me William.”

William offered Cornelius his hand, and Cornelius accepted. His palm was damp, warm, and calloused. William’s hand was cold.

“You’re an intern, is that right?” Cornelius asked.

“I handle criminal cases,” William replied. Cornelius flushed. “And you?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m a legal assistant.” 

“Mm, you work divorces for Tom?” “Usually, yes.”

“I see,” William said, then glanced down at Cornelius’s left hand. Cornelius put it in his pocket. He slid his wedding ring off with the pad of his thumb.

The record played, the yellow lights buzzed, and Cornelius felt his shirt sticking to his back. He parted his lips to say something, but so did William.

“How long have you been married?” William asked.

“Oh. Too long,” Cornelius said, then chuckled. William didn’t laugh. “Twenty eight years now.”

“That's lovely,” William said.

“Oh, thank you,” Cornelius replied.

“May I take you for drinks?” William asked.

“Now?”

“Would you like that?”

“I’m not much of a drinker, really.”

William said nothing, he only smiled. Cornelius’s thick glasses slowly slid down the bridge of his nose from sweat.

“I have to be home before twelve,” Cornelius said.

“Would you prefer that I drive?” William asked.

“Well- which bar?” 

“Do you have a favorite?”

William and Cornelius slipped out of the building together into the chill of winter. William’s work shoes clicked like heels on glossy winter pavement, and Cornelius studied his legs. The car was a flat ford pinto with white rimmed wheels and a mustard yellow finish. William opened the door for Cornelius.

William turned the heaters in the car on as he drove, and Cornelius talked about war.

“Drafts don’t happen as much as kids think. My boy James is old enough but they don’t want him in Vietnam, haha.”

“Have you been in war, my friend?” William asked.

“No, no but my father was,” Cornelius replied.

“Hmm. Do you fear being drafted?” William asked.

“No, no we’re too old to be drafted,” Cornelius said. 

William did not respond. Cornelius looked at him.

“Could you be?” he asked, watching William’s face.

“I don’t believe I will be,” William responded.

Cornelius’s brows furrowed. He thought about that.

When the men arrived at the bar, William led the older man to the very back where they could hide in a booth together. The floor was checkered, the walls were pastel yellow with orange and brown stripes, and the jukebox on the other side of the bar played “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” by Doris Day.

 Cornelius had seven rounds of bourbon, and three of vodka. William had one lemonade, which he swirled with a straw while he watched Cornelius’s face get red and his mouth get lazy.

“I like bourbon a lot, but I can only afford beer in large amounts. My father liked beer though,” Cornelius said, slurring. “You’re not gonna drink?”

“Mm. I find that it gives me passion but takes away my performance,” William replied, to which Cornelius chuckled. 

“Oh yea? Have you disappointed a date before?”

William smiled, and took a sip of his drink.

“Do you take girls out often, not being married? I bet you do, looking so young. And blonde, you look like Maralyn Monroe actually.”

“I see,” William said, reaching out for his cigarette back.

“Do you take out girls a lot?”

“I find women to be incredibly beautiful.”

“Yea, I’m sure with the type of women you must get. I never had that, not even when I was your age.”

“No?”

“Look at me,” Cornelius said.

“I am,” William replied.

William was stroking his fingers up and down his left collar bone, his shirt was three buttons open revealing his smooth skin and much-exposed neck. It was long and pale, and Cornelius could picture a double string of pearls strewn across it.

“You’re like a woman,” Cornelius said aloud. William grinned.

“Thank you,” William said.

“You look like a woman.”

“Thank you.”

Cornelius stared at William and breathed heavily through his nose. William stared at Cornelius and traced his collarbone.

William paid the bill and steadied Cornelius on the way to the car. Snow specks stuck to the windows as William drove the drunk man home. Cornelius’s gut was extended and his face was heated. He breathed slowly, and he needed several reminders to give directions. 

William’s ford pinto rolled up to the curb, coming to a stop at a two story house with lightless windows. Cornelius looked up at the master bedroom. It was then that he felt a hand on his knee.

“What a wonderful evening, Cornelius,” William said. “Will I have the privilege of taking you out again?”

The thumb against his knee began to rub back and forth, and for a long time Cornelius did nothing. Then, sobered by his own excitement, he pulled his leg away.

“No, no I’ve uhm, spent enough of your money. You don’t have to do that.

“You’re so thoughtful,” William said, smiling. “Goodnight, Cornelius.”

“Goodnight, William.”

After staring at William for a long time, Cornelius opened the car door and lifted his body into the cold.

Cornelius kicked off his shoes at the front door and began to unbutton his shirt as he walked up the stairs. He removed his belt at the opening of the master bedroom, which jingled as it dropped to the carpet. When he shifted into bed, the king sized mattress dipped and creaked under his weight. He neglected to brush his dry, liquor coated mouth, or shower off the sweat from the night. Linda was turned away from him with curlers in her hair.

“Where were you?” she asked.

Cornelius said nothing. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, then began to rub his palm up and down her skin. Linda rolled his hand off and pulled the sheets tighter around her body. Cornelius stared at the back of her head, studying the coils of blonde hair wrapped in mint green plastic curlers. He wondered, to himself, if William ever curled his hair. He then turned away from her.

Husband and wife laid quietly with one another in the dark bedroom, and Cornelius wished he had slept on the couch. 

A week later, William took Cornelius for another round of drinks. Cornelius collected bottles and talked, and William listened. A shoe touched an ankle or a hand would brush against an arm. They discussed Elvis, The Beatles, and Charlie Chaplin, who William didn’t know.

“Really? You don't know him?” Cornelius asked.

William just smiled.

“He’s been in talkies, some of the first actually.”

“A talkie?” William asked.

Cornelius thought about that for a while, staring at William’s smooth face.

“Come home with me,” William said.

To which Cornelius replied while hot faced;

“Okay.”

 William’s car rolled into a flat driveway. One beam of light became two as the headlights neared the garage door, then shut off. The home was single story and older, like the kind that were built when Cornelius was newly married. The exterior was pastel yellow and the steep roof was mahogany brown. The lights on either side of the front door were lit.

Cornelius watched William open the door without unlocking it. William then began the process of lighting lamps and closing curtains while Cornelius removed his coat. The home was quiet and smelled heavily of smoke.

The couch in front of the TV was custard yellow with several textured blankets sprawled across the top. Crocheted, wool, and faux fur. There were throw pillows, a bean bag, a shag rug, and a coffee table with a completely full ashtray in the center. 

The kitchen still carried the trends of the 50s. Mint green cabinets and counters, Vinyl flooring, and a round breakfast table.

From the hallway emerged a black cat. She bobbed over to the door to greet them with her tail up in the air. She neglected William and pressed her head into Cornelius’s calf, then dragged her body against his leg. She meowed frequently, looking up at Cornelius while circling his shoes.

“Hello, Cynthia,” William said as he removed Cornelius’s coat for him. He placed a hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to wait in my room while I feed her?”

“Oh, uhm…” Cornelius said. The beat in his chest became heavier.

“I’ll only be a moment.”

“Okay.”

Cornelius slid his hands into his pockets and stepped out from Cynthia, who followed him down the hallway until she heard the peel of a cat food can in the kitchen. There were no portraits on the walls, nor were there paintings. After studying the bathroom and the guest room, Cornelius opened the last door down the hallway and tugged at the pull chain on the floor lamp beside him.

The room was soft blues and cream. William owned a canopy with sheer curtains that hung over the bed. His bedsheets were glossy, probably silk. He had two yellow dressers with colognes, a record player, and a jewelry box sitting on top. And most noticeably, William owned a spacious vanity mirror. To Cornelius, this room belonged to a woman.

“Would you like to take your shoes off, dear?” William asked, and a hand slid onto Cornelius’s shoulder.

Cornelius said nothing, and William waited. He stepped around to look at Cornelius’s face. His eyes were peaceful and half lidded, and his collarbones were more exposed to Cornelius than he had ever noticed before. William’s thin fingers plucked Cornelius’s glasses from his face and closed them.

“I’m not a queer, William.” Cornelius said.

“I didn’t think you were, dear,” William replied.

For a very long time Cornelius said nothing, and William said nothing. Then, Cornelius kissed William.

William’s body was sleek, and thin, and young. His skin was milky and smooth against moist, nervous, veiny hands. His chest hair was frail and sparse, and his waist slim. His delicate fingers slid against sun spots and coarse stomach hair, then a hairy breast. William’s ribs cupped the older man's rotund stomach, and when Cornelius couldn't last the way William could, William did not laugh. The curtains were closed, it was dark, and Cornelius was handsome.

“I’m sorry,” Cornelius said. A drop of sweat left his forehead.

William kissed his cheek, and then the corner of his mouth.

“My darling,” he replied.

 Cornelius was guided to lay down, and he obeyed. He placed his head on William’s chest and curled his body against him. William cradled his wide, damp body. Both men breathed together and thought together, naked on top of silk sheets. William whispered kindly to him, and Cornelius began to weep. William stroked his head and pulled him close.

The next morning, William helped Cornelius dress, made him breakfast, then smoked with him. Cornelius didn’t say much to William. 

After breakfast, William drove Cornelius home. When the ford pinto came to a stop, Cornelius did not leave the car. He watched the window on the second floor to the master bedroom, then sighed through his nose. Linda would be dressing herself for church at this time, and she would want him to attend. Cornelius knew this.

“My dear, may I walk you to the door?” William asked.

“Oh, no William. Uhm, thank you, no.” 

William placed a hand on Cornelius’s knee and rubbed his thumb back and forth.

“I understand. The evening was a delight, Cornelius. Will I have the privilege of seeing you again?” William asked.

“Uhm, I don’t know.” 

William nodded, then gave Cornelius’s knee a squeeze. William leaned in close and Cornelius worried that William wanted to kiss him. Instead William reached to open the glovebox and withdrew a white sliver from it. It was then offered to Cornelius. The business card read; Bill Clement - Criminal lawyer. In the middle of the card was a phone number. 

“Thank you,” Cornelius said.

“Goodbye, dear.

Cornelius watched William’s car drive away.

He pressed the front door open, which tended to get stuck in the frame, and stepped inside. Dishes clanked in the kitchen and the news man was giving the weather on the television in the living room. There were footsteps upstairs in Cornelius’s daughter's room. 

Cornelius rubbed his face in his hands. The white light coming into the home was glaring, the noise was sharp, and the pressure of a headache swelled against his skull. He wandered deeper, rounding the corner to the kitchen where Linda stood in front of the sink in a floral sunday dress. Her blonde hair with streaks of gray was done up in a beehive.

“Linda,” Cornelius said.

Linda turned her head to look at him, and Cornelius felt her eyes scan his body. She scowled, then put her plate down to fully face Cornelius. She crossed her arms, and stared at him. Cornelius stared at the kitchen tile.

“Where were you?” She asked.

“I’m sorry, Linda.”

“Where were you.”

“I got drunk, I was going to call.” “You didn’t.”

“I know.”

Cornelius swallowed thickly, and Linda waited.

“I went drinking with uhm, Bill from the firm. I slept at his place.”

“Cornelius,” Linda said, leaning back against the counter. “When I asked you not to drink on a church night, you said that you wouldn't.”

“I know-”

“You promised.”

The television discussed the upcoming election, their daughter’s footsteps came down the stairs, and the neighbors dog barked in the yard. 

“This is the one thing I get, we go to church as a family, Cornelius. We are a family that goes to church every single Sunday. You cannot do this again.”

“Okay.”

“Get ready and show up late,” Linda said.

“Alright.”

“Did you lose your glasses?”

Cornelius reached up to feel the bridge of his nose where his glasses were not perched. He pictured them waiting for him on William’s nightstand.

“Oh, I guess,” he said as Linda walked past him to the front door. He suddenly became aware that he smelt of liquor and tangy sweat.

Both his wife and his daughter stepped onto the front porch, then closed the front door behind them. Linda had to tug the door to get it into the frame properly. 

Cornelius swayed in the kitchen for a minute, then sat down on the couch and watched the news.

That very night, while Cornelius sat in the kitchen alone, William was intertwined with Gene, a good friend, on his silk sheets. They were both incredibly beautiful, and both incredibly skilled with their mouths. Just as they had begun to kiss, the phone in the kitchen rang. William tilted his head to the side for Gene to trail warm pecks down his neck to his collarbone. But after the third ring, the well-built man stopped.

“Aye,” Gene said. 

“Hmm?” William replied.

“Phones ringing.”

“If it’s urgent, they will call again my dear.”

 Moments later, William was wrapped in a sheer robe walking to the kitchen. The tile was cold under his bare feet, and he nearly tripped over Cynthia as she curled around his ankle mid step. He plucked the phone from the wall and pressed it to his ear.

“Hello?” He said, leaning against the counter. He toyed with the custard colored coil from the phone.

“William?” Cornelius asked across the line. He was drunk.

“Cornelius, hello dear.”

“William, hello. How are you? I’m sorry, uhm, did I wake you up?” he asked.

“Not at all. Are you well?” William asked.

“Oh, I’m fine. I just wanted to call.”

“I see.”

Cornelius went silent, and so did William. William could hear him breathing.

“I need to-... when can I see you again?”

William smiled.

“Aww, my darling. Are you unwell?”

Cornelius said nothing.

“May I take you for drinks tomorrow?” William asked.

“Yes, please.” Cornelius said. “Thank you.”

“No need to-”

“Thank you. I love you.”

William’s smile dropped into a neutral line and he stopped toying at the phone coil. 

“I’m sorry. I don't mean- I’m not that way. You know that, I’m not like that.”

“I know, dear.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, my darling,” William said.

“Goodnight,” Cornelius replied. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If you're interested in more writing, consider looking into my patreon!