Short Fiction
About Mike DuBour...
Written: Short Fiction
Queen (click here)
Bricks (click here)
Fair (click here)
Queenback to top
Ever hear a poignant tale of happiness and achievement, rainbows and love? Well, this isn’t one. This isn’t a feel sorry for me account that demands a big pity party afterwards. Well, it might be, after all it is about myself, a gay male who has just turned sixty. I mean, what does a fat, bald, aging queen do with the realization that he has been on this earth for half a century? Damn, that sounds so profane, as if some nightmare has been realized. This self-loathing will be my demise and I hope you feel sorry for me. You should. I’ve been through a lot but I won’t admit it, a closet hero of sorts.
I know I’m angry. However, the anger in me is controlled. I don’t lash out at the ignorant people I see everyday. They rush about to their jobs, brushing against me without saying, “pardon me” as if they are so important. They go about judging one another as if self-appointed magistrates, letting insecurity cause disdain where a simple “hello” could result in a smile. When was the last time you said “hi” to a stranger? Me? I don’t bother, as I have been an outcast for a long time. Its not like anyone would say “hi” back, not to a pariah. I have never belonged, maybe once, but it was just a tease.
I still go out. I need that social contact. But the community today is different. Club boys rush to and from their next high with eager reckless abandonment. They’re label queens wearing DKNY and Banana Republic. I’m at a point where I want to scream at them as they prance by me! Cackling to each other and sounding as if they just sucked on helium. Bitches, that’s what they are! Every once in awhile they turn to me and hiss,
“Excuse me is that a raspberry cosmo, I ONLY drink raspberry cosmos.” And they reach for a sip thinking that I should be so grateful that they choose to drink from my cup. Please, they want a free drink, I’m no fool. That’s the attention I get these days. Charity hugs and kisses from boys with names like Sebastion and Josh, their queer little mouths pecking me on the cheek,
“Oh you’re so cute, it must be nice being old and not having to play the game.” They stare at me with eyes wide from ecstasy.
“It’d be nice just to be the dice.” I’d say, looking across the room avoiding eye contact. They’d look at me, cock their heads and say “Whatever” and flit away to dance. Keep rolling guys, reach for those lights. It’s a goal, tangible or not.
Its those nights that I ask myself, “What am I doing here? Wouldn’t I be more comfortable elsewhere?” But where is elsewhere? Besides where else could I get contact with fresh smooth shirtless boys? A cheap thrill, but nonetheless a thrill to have. Squirming young bodies, wet with perspiration sliding up and down one another. I always slip through the crowded dance floor getting bumped and slammed by young twinks and muscle boys caught up in their own little worlds unbeknownst to them, creating a masturbation fantasy for myself.
I remember approaching one handsome guy last week. He was alone and swigging his beer. I asked him to dance. There was no response as he quickly looked away and nervously walked to the bathroom, hoping I wouldn’t follow. I’m used to the rejection. But its a rejection from beautiful gods in a mighty temple, rather than from some old troll in a dark smoky bar. I tried those holes awhile back. They were filled with ancient fools reminiscing about lives led long ago. I’m not about that.
By now you must think me some pathetic fool who is leading a miserable life. Frankly, I don’t care what you think. I’ve had my share of “high fives” and “pats on the back,” I’ve sipped my free drinks. What you think is of no consequence to me. When I had a mop on my head and a thirty-inch waist I conquered the world! My flirtatious affections would be carelessly tossed to old men like a dime in the Salvation Army bucket. You could scrub a stained shirt clean on my stomach. My crew consisted of thirty cute chiseled hard bodies and we used to live it up! We would drink and dance all night. Andy Gibb, Gloria Gaynor and Miss Ross were our gods. Seven days a week there would be orgy after orgy. They have the name sex party these days. Those, however, were the days. Sex, drugs and disco baby! Whether you were straight or a sister, you always managed to fit in somewhere. Youth was on my side and I never went home alone.
Then it hit. Fucking AIDS ruined the party like a pin popping a fabulous pink balloon. Its vicious and unforgiving claws scratched away the beauty of my community leaving welts and infected blisters. I watched, impotent, as my closest soul mates were battered and consumed by the Gay Plague. One by one, their emaciated faces were turned to ash by the fires of the crematoriums. I can still hear their voices as they stoically lay in their deathbeds,
“Don’t cry honey, just remember to scatter me at the Grand Canyon”
“Be a darling and sprinkle me over Lake Wobegon”
“Girl you best toss my dust into the ocean during Tea Dance”
Scatter, sprinkle and toss, like they wanted me to make salad! The bravery they displayed while facing impending doom and enduring intense pain was unreal. These were men! Those ignorant doctors who discriminated against my family could only wish to be so strong. Afraid to touch my ailing brothers for fear of contracting the “gay disease.” I remember sitting with Danny on the emergency room cot for close to three hours before a doctor came in wearing rubber gloves and full surgical mask.
Then the self-righteous religious folks chimed in quick to point fingers and quote scripture. They always conveniently forgot that Jesus embraced the Leper. As for me, I had smeared pig’s blood on my door jamb and the angel of death passed over. That was the most difficult part. Why not me? It was like missing a boat loaded with your friends, only the vessel was the Titanic. How dare they not get me a ticket! I was left behind to wear raincoats and use water-based lube. I was left behind period. Where’s the party now and how come I wasn’t invited?
Have you ever had your belief system challenged? Well mine was shattered. I don’t care about much of anything anymore because not much really matters. One day you have it all, confidence, health and family. Then its gone. God is an Indian giver.
But my story is not about these feelings, for I am strong. I will not be a product of my painful past. I’ve been to grief support groups and all that other crap they have for survivors. I’ve met people who’ve lost their parents and other loved ones in some quite painful ways...Cancer, murder, suicide and of course AIDS. These were all very traumatic experiences. But none of them match my hell. The living wake that my best friend Joseph held for himself was the first of many “life parties” I would attend. The morbid fool bought himself a casket, set it in his living room and lay in it most of the night asking his nearest and dearest to take photos with him before he wasted. The ham was in denial until I shut his eyes three months later with a morphine drip plugged into his arm.
Then there was Julian. He almost lost an important account at work after screwing up a major presentation. We told him at happy hour that he was just stressed, he should go to the doctor and get some valium. It was easy those days to get whatever scrip you wanted. He went, hoping to also get a doctor’s note for time off. But he left with the plus sign instead. “Well that explains it.” He would say over and over again, “I thought I was getting stupid.” We found him in his apartment shortly after that. He was crouched in the fetal position lying against the wall of his bedroom. Note in one hand, picture of all of us on Fire Island, empty pill bottle in the other, and tearstains on his shirt.
This holocaust won’t be my story. My tale won’t be another predictable one about a bitter old queen who tells about coming to terms with his homosexuality. Not quite, dear, my yarn is spun from threads of unbelievable circumstances and promises to be different. Enough dramatics! I want to share my unique story with you. Are you still there? Are you planning my pity party? Good! This shall be about my inability to be affected by the pains of life. I’ll start at the very beginning.
I was warm and secure, being nurtured from within, happy. It was dark and I heard muffled voices. Suddenly there was movement, but not the kind I was used to. This was different. I had no control and was being forced from my home. The soft walls became firm and stifling. The pressure was strangling me and I didn’t want to leave. I belonged here. The constant pulsing sound of a flowing river, which comforted me, grew rapid and loud. The voices amplified and there was a periodic scream coming from where I was headed. I was scared. An intense bright light appeared. I was being regurgitated into the world from a wet, hot, mouth with no teeth. I was alien in this cold place. I wanted to go back, started to cry and never stopped.
Bricks
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“You’re sure what I’m wearing is ok?” Brandon nervously asked Josh as they climbed the stairs to the brownstone.
“For the last time you look great, now stop asking and chill out,” an exhausted Josh shot back.
Brandon pursed his lips and tucked his hands into the pockets of his tan pants. He looked down at his shiny black shoes and sighed. It had been almost a year since he’d been out to a social event, a virtual recluse since the tragic gym incident. Josh had been hounding him for months to get out and stop sulking and tonight he accepted the invitation. The two had been friends for years, especially the past year, and shared an almost brotherly bond.
Brandon reached the top step first. His neatly pressed pants contrasted the dark blue shirt that tucked into them. A thick black belt separated the two and the latest designer cologne, "Fragility" flowered around him.
Josh playfully pushed him aside and ran his finger down the intercom directory scanning for a name. He pressed the buzzer and waited with a smile. "This guy’s on fire and can be a bit much, so beware."
“He’s a big Mary?” Brandon asked.
“Beyond that” Josh laughed, “but very entertaining.”
“You go first,” Brandon meekly said as he quickly stepped behind Josh.
A voice crackled through the speaker built into the brownstone wall, “Hello.”
“We’re here.” Josh announced, speaking louder than he had to, as if ordering at a drive through.
There was a click and a loud buzz. The two pushed their way through the door and ascended the stairs to the apartment. Josh started to babble about prospective husbands that could be at the party. Brandon heard him, something about too many men not enough time. But he wasn’t listening. His throat and mouth grew dry and his underarms were getting wetter with perspiration. “Damn it.” he thought to himself “What am I so nervous about?” Then he thought of Marcus and how the two used to attend many parties and events, “You asshole why did you die and leave me to this? Thanks a lot.” he mumbled to himself knowing that Marcus had nothing to do with his own demise.
“What dear?” Josh twisted around while grabbing onto the handrail.
“Nothing, just talking to myself.”
They arrived at door number 33, where thumping bass could be heard under the voices of what sounded like a hundred men to Brandon. He wasn't sure if it was music or his heart beat he felt. Suddenly the door flew open and Josh’s friend Eddie was standing with one arm resting on the upper doorframe and the other on his hip. He had a smile on his face and stared at the two in the hallway. He inspected Brandon, peering over thick black framed glasses that rested on the tip of his nose, worn purely for effect. It was only seconds but seemed like an eternity for Brandon when Josh piped in,
“Are you just going to stand there like Mr. Teapot, or can we come in?” He met Eddie met six months ago at Sarah’s Bakery. Each claimed he was next in line and squabbled over the last piece of Chocolate cake. They both ended up getting a piece.
They arrived at apartment 33 where Eddie stood at the open door waiting. His dulled black boots with silver tips were the first thing Brandon saw as he climbed the final step. Tight velvet lavender pants and a thick black belt tamed a wild blousy, parchment yellow shirt that was half unbuttoned and exposed a smooth, boyish chest. One arm rested on the upper doorframe and the other on his hip. On the tip of his nose rested a pair of thick black framed glasses, worn for purely effect. Eddie peered over the glasses and inspected Brandon.“Are you just going to stand there like Mr. Teapot or may we enter?” Josh piped in a bit winded from the climb. He met Eddie six months ago at Sarah’s Bakery one morning. Each claimed he was next in line and squabbled over the last piece of chocolate cake. They both ended up getting a piece.
“Its Miss Teapot to you Miss Thang. This girl’s been steeping long enough and she’s ready for some sugar!” Eddie said as he reached for Josh and hugged him. “I’ve been at that damn register all day and in need of some serious drinking.” Eddie worked at Banana Republic in Copley Place Mall.
Brandon thought that Eddie had been pretty serious already. Marcus and he used to ridicule guys like him. “Shallow queens” they would call them and mimmick them to their faces at Armani and Structure without them even knowing,
“Excuse me is the Versace on sale?” They’d ask holding back the laughter.
Brandon had never been comfortable around those types of gay men.“Who’s she and whats her story?” Eddie motioned towards Brandon snapping him back.
“I’d like you to meet Brandon.” Josh said with hands by his side as the hug ended.
“Well smear me with jam and stick me to an anthill if you ain’t the cutest little thing here.” Eddie feigned a southern accent, leaned back and extended a hand, palm facing the floor.
“Nice to meet you, Edward, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Brandon shook Eddie’s limp hand and thought he couldn’t get any gayer if he tried.
“Charmed” Eddie responded and then suddenly grabbed his hand back. “Ouch! What a strong grip.” He winked at Brandon “Call me Eddie honey, no formalities here. Now turn around dear if you want to get in.”
“Why” asked Josh.
“Not you Joshua, I don’t want to see your tired ass, step aside.” He sauntered between the two, put his hands on his hips and fixed a stare on Brandon’s butt. Brandon could see him in the brass light fixture. Eddie moaned, “Mmmmm Hmmmmm, mama’s gonna get her some of that tonight!” Then he boldly slapped Brandon’s right ass cheek with a smack that reverberated down the stairwell.
I am reading a page from a short story titled “Bricks”It’s in the very early stages and about a young gay man named Brandon coming to terms with the death of his lover, Marcus. In the story he’s getting back into the social scene after a year of isolating himself.
Brandon and his friend Josh have just arrived at a party hosted by a very flamboyant friend of Josh’s named Eddie.
"Its Miss Teapot to you Miss Thang. This girl's been steeping long enough and she’s ready for some sugar!" Eddie said as he reached Josh for an embrace, "I've been at that damn register all day and am in need of some serious drinking."
"From the looks of it you've been pretty serious already." Brandon thought. He and Marcus used to ridicule guys like Eddie. They shopped on Newbury Street at Armani and imitated the high pitched tones of the clerks. Marcus even went overboard once and approached a clerk. He asked in a voice that sounded like he had just sucked on helium with accentuated s's,
'"Excuse me, is the Versacci on sale?"
The two had left the store doubled over in laughter with an angry clerk’s glare their wake. Brandon smiled, comforted in the memory.
“Who’s she and what’s her story?” Eddie motioned towards Brandon bringing him back to the party.
"I'd like you to meet Brandon." Josh said with hands by his side as the hug ended.
"Well smear me with jam and stick me to an anthill if you ain’t the cutest little thing here." Eddie feigned a southern accent, leaned backward and extended a hand, palm facing the floor.
"Nice to meet you Edward I've heard a lot about you." Brandon shook his hand and blushed. “What a queen!” he thought and Eddie limply shook back.
"Ouch! What a strong grip.” Eddie winked. “Call me Eddie honey. No formalities here. Now turn around dear if you want to get in the door."
Both Josh and Brandon looked at each other shrugged their shoulders and turned around facing away from Eddie.
"Why?" asked Josh.
"Not you Joshua, I don't want to see your tired ass, step aside," he sauntered between the two put his hands on his hips and fixed a stare on Brandon's butt. The khakis tightly snuggled his ass and Eddie moaned, "Mmmmm Hmmm, mama's gonna get her some of that tonight!" Then he boldly slapped Brandon’s right buttocks with a smack that reverberated down the stairwell.
Brandon jumped, rolled his eyes and turned around. Any excuse to leave would be great, but he promised Josh earlier that he’d stay at least an hour. He was stuck.
"The only thing you’re getting tonight is a drink for me!" Josh demanded as he walked into the party with his head high in the air, “Now lets see whom I’ll be waking up next to.”
Brandon followed Josh into the brightly lit living room with Eddie practically on top of him.
“There’s plenty of beer and wine in the kitchen, help yourselves girls.” Eddie skipped away with arms flailing in the air.
Brandon needed a drink to calm his nerves. He grabbed a Corona from the fridge, poured a shot of grenadine in it and squeezed a lime into the tiny opening. The kitchen had a counter that opened to the rest of the apartment blessing Brandon with a safe place to survey the party. Madonna was screaming from the stereo and Eddie was dancing wildly in the living room. Eddie noticed Brandon looking at him and winked. He quickly looked away and checked out the other guests. Black fitted shirts and blue jeans worn by men who stepped out of catalogues lined the walls and occupied the furniture. His eyes fell on the token female. She was a nice looking girl and he wondered if she was someone’s hag as she was the only girl there. She looked perfectly comfortable with the setting and its characters. Her soft laugh could be heard from where he stood and his eyes drifted to the guy she was talking to. He was a tall, rugged, dark haired man who looked as if he’d missed a day of shaving.
“What I wouldn’t do for an hour with that. Sorry Marcus, but you must admit, he’s pretty hot.” Brandon thought as he finished the Corona and opened another. Two guys were talking about a rooftop deck and the fabulous view of the skyline. “What a great escape” he thought and finding it became his mission. The stairway to the roof deck was near the door they had entered. He prayed that Eddie wouldn’t see him as he attempted to slip away and let the beer take effect. Luck was on his side and he snuck out as Eddie yelled to four guys sitting on the couch, “Remember this?” and started to vogue with his back to Brandon.
It was cool outside and there were two guys on the deck but they paid no attention to him. He sipped his beer and stared at the Boston skyline. The stars peered down on him as he exhaled after a deep breath, "I'm just not having fun. Why am I even here? I should leave.”
Music smoked its way to the deck and took him back in time, Cher had replaced Madonna and the words hit Brandon like an ice pick on a delicate sculpture: “Do you believe in life after love?” He remembered Marcus singing the song to him as they dressed one Halloween. Marcus was pleased with his appearance and thought he looked identical to Cher. But in his tight leather outfit and black wig, he looked more like Zena the Warrior Princess. That costume party had been fun. Marcus was Cher and Brandon was Share, a serving platter handing out condoms and lube, sharing love. They had thought themselves so creative. Brandon giggled “God I still miss you,” he whispered. The bottom of the Corona bottle reflected the stars. “One more beer then I’ll leave,” he said aloud and went downstairs to the kitchen. He ran into Josh on the way,
“Having fun sweetheart?” Josh asked with his mouth half full of cheese and crackers. He took a sip of his merlot. A familiar sight as there was no wine, meat or cheese that didn't meet Josh’s approval or escaped his sight.
“An absolute blast.” Brandon said dryly as he wiped away a crumb that flew from Josh’s mouth onto his shirt, “I’m actually going to have one more beer and hit the road.” Then he lowered his voice and leaned into him, “ I’m just not there yet Josh, can’t get into it.” Brandon thumbed his empty beer bottle and thumped it against his thigh.
“Lets get you another drink honey, thats all you need. Did you try the cheese?” and he held up a little plate full of yellow cubes haphazardly cut with toothpicks protruding.
They walked to the kitchen together. “If you’re not having fun after another beer you can leave.” Josh nudged Brandon.
“Thanks for permission.” Brandon cockily returned.
“I’m just glad you came out with me for a change. Its nice to see you getting back on the horse, its been long enough.” Josh leaned against the counter and Brandon pulled another Corona from its frigid hideaway. He cracked it open, turned it blood red again and squeezed a slice of lime into the hole. This time however, the lime sent a strong stream of juice directly into the face of a fellow partygoer. It struck him on the nose and ran down his chin before dripping to the floor. Josh opened his eyes wide, looked at Brandon and ducked out of the kitchen.
“I am so sorry!” Brandon said slowly as he handed the guy a napkin.
He smiled and the stranger smiled back.
“Don’t worry about it, must be quite a lime,” the stranger said wiping his face and turning away to continue his conversation.
Brandon went back to preparing his beer. Alone and feeling abandoned by Josh, he felt his face turn the color of grenadine. “Of all the crazy things, he must think I’m trying to pick him up.” He squeezed the lime again into the small hole, careful to block any escaping juice with his hand. It was a failed attempt. Another stream of citrus projected directly onto the back of the stranger’s head he had just blasted.
“Oh for crying out loud!” Brandon thought as the guy turned around. “I’m sorry, this lime’s got a mind of its own,” The beer stood on the counter with limejuice and grenadine running down the side. Brandon turned his hands upwards while he shrugged his shoulders. The two linked eyes for a moment and Brandon’s nervousness turned into a strange sense of turn on. This stranger was taller than he and wore faded blue jeans with black Sketchers. The jeans were baggy around the legs but tight in the crotch which hugged what seemed like to Brandon, a small banana. He wore a tight purple shirt that pinched his biceps and stretched tightly across his chest. Brandon recognized him. This was the guy talking to the girl he had seen earlier.
“Are you going to give me some Corona with that lime?” the guy asked Brandon while picking up the Corona and taking a sip. He put the beer down and extended his hand. “I’m Zach.”
Brandon looked at his hand. It was large with well-manicured fingernails. Very masculine. He reached for it anticipating the skin to skin touch, albeit innocent. But before he gripped it, the intercom blared indicating a new arrival. It startled them both as the speaker was mounted in the wall right between where they stood. Eddie skipped over to the speaker, wedged his way in and pressed the door release. He put his arm around Brandon and pulled him tightly to his chest.
“Oh Zach, I see you’ve met my new boyfriend Brandon! Isn’t he a doll?” Eddie turned and kissed Brandon's cheek and then cocked his head and smiled.
A disappointed look fell on Zach’s face. “A doll indeed. Watch it with your lime next time,” he smiled, turned and walked away. Brandon attempted to move from Eddie’s fly trap grasp but couldn’t. Instead Eddie dragged him into the living room and introduced him as his boyfriend in one very loud announcement. It happened before Brandon, feeling numb from the two beers, could do anything.
“Hey everybody! I want you to meet my new boyfriend. His name is button, oops, hehe,” Eddie put his hand in front of his mouth and pretended to laugh, “I mean Brandon. But he’s as cute as a button.” All eyes fixed a stare on him and the crowded room filled with whispers.
Brandon broke free, grabbed his beer and headed back out to the rooftop deck. He pushed his way through the crowd and into the open night sky, took one large swill of beer and held back tears. He was definitely leaving after this one. “How dare that queen embarrass me like that!” He wanted to yell out to Marcus. He needed him.
A voice from behind suddenly asked, “So you’re Eddie’s new boyfriend. Where did you guys meet?”
Brandon turned around to see a skinny young man with bleached hair. Dressed in black from head to toe, he looked like a priest. He approached Brandon with the deck lights sparkling off his silver watch, necklace and multitude of rings.
“I’m not his boyfriend. I just met him tonight. I don’t even know him.” Brandon protested as he took a sip of beer. “I came with a friend of mine who knows him.”
“I thought something was bizarre, we didn’t hear about you.” he stepped closer to Brandon. “Also, Eddie only dates guys more effeminate than him if you can believe it. You’re too butch.”
“Yeah, very butch, don’t let him near the limes.” A voice spoke in the dark. The two peered in the direction of the voice and Zach appeared.
Brandon and Zach looked long and hard at each other. Their eyes locked and Zach smiled. There was silence. The silver clad guy in black looked at Brandon and then at Zach and retreated down to the party. The two were left alone on the deck.
“So its Brandon.” Zach reached for a handshake.
Brandon reached for his hand and received it quickly. He squeezed Zach’s soft, yet slightly calloused hand. A jolt ran through his body.
“So what do you do for a living?” Zach asked.
Brandon attempted to regain his poise and stated as a matter of fact, “I’m an electrical engineer.”
“Sounds stimulating” Zach stared deeply into Brandon’s eyes.
The corniness of Zach’s response fell on Brandon’s ears like music “Funny, what about you?” Attempting to pay him a compliment for his pun and to be released from the eye lock.
“I sell mutual funds.”
“Interesting.” Brandon didn’t know much about mutual funds and didn’t know what to say. “What do I talk to this guy about?” he thought. The man that stood in front of him was very attractive and his vocabulary had become vegetable soup. The two stood in awkward silence for a few minutes kissing their drinks then turned to look at the city.
“This is a great town. Its small but has that big city feel.” Zach reached out to the distant glow of the Hancock Tower.
“Yeah, but there’s so much attitude.” Brandon took another sip of beer.
“Awe that’s the northeast though, try going to LA.” Zach spun around and rested his elbows on the railing. “I feel there’s only attitude if you look for it.”
“So what do you do for fun?” Brandon feeling a little more at ease asked Zach as he stepped closer.
Zach paused briefly, took a sip of his drink and said, “I pretty much do this, go to parties with friends, the theatre, concerts.”
“Who’s your favorite singer?” Brandon felt awkward and as though he was asking rehearsed questions. But soon, the two became engrossed in conversation about theatre, drama and music. Brandon thanked god that he had someone to talk to. Nearly an hour later, Josh popped out of the stairwell and hollered,
“There you are!” He walked over and squirmed between Brandon and Zach. His eyes moved south from Zach’ s face to the roof deck. Then he spun around and asked Brandon, “So you stuck around. Good, a few of us are headed to the Manhole to dance. You want to come, er, you guys want to come?”
Brandon thought about how much fun he was having and decided to be adventurous. It had been awhile and without hesitation said, “Why not. Zach you wanna come?”
“Definitely.” Zach smiled at Brandon.
Suddenly they heard a loud clanging noise. Bang! Bang! Bang! It was as if bells were being hit by hammers. Bang! Bang! Bang! The three ran downstairs to see what was happening. Eddie was parading around the apartment slamming pots together. Everyone was covering their ears and turning away.
“Party’s over honeys, mamas going dancing. Either come along or go elsewhere.”
“You let your boyfriend go dancing without you?” Zach jested as he shouldered Brandon.
The place had cleared pretty quickly. Then the woman he saw earlier came up to them.
“Are you going to the Manhole?” She asked Zach while zipping up her purse.
“Yeah, are you?”
“Nope, we’re going to the Burger Shack. I’m starving.” She said patting her stomach.
“Oh, hey Pam, this is Brandon. Brandon this is, Pam.” Zach put his arm around Pam.
“You’re Eddie’s boyfriend right?”
They all laughed and left the apartment. The halls of the building were filled with laughter and shouting. No particular conversation was discernable as they stomped down the stairs and dumped out the door to the front steps. Eddie wanted to show off his new car which happened to be parked a short distance from the building.
“Mama’s driving so follow me.” Eddie yelled over his shoulder as he skipped down the front steps to the sidewalk.
“You’re kidding me Eddie, its right around the corner.” Josh scolded.
“Its not as close as you think child. Besides who knows who’ll see us pull up.” Eddie scoffed back. “Its all about being seen.”
The four of them, Eddie, Josh, Brandon and Zach packed into the brand new BMW and drove three blocks to the Manhole.
“We’re getting close, I’ll turn the music up.” Eddie announced as he checked the sidewalk for guys. He slowed down, cranked the stereo, rolled down all the windows and played Natasha’s new club hit, “Sweet”
“Its the music pumping, everybody’s jumping… to the beat! Get those bodies grinding, girl, you best be minding… in this heat!” And then she let out a terrific “Ooooo” as if someone stepped on her foot. They all tried imitating her but instead sounded like a group of sick soprano cows. Brandon and Zach were in the backseat bobbing to the beat with an occasional shoulder shrug. “This guy’s pretty cute,” Brandon thought to himself. “I’m actually having fun.” They found a metered parking space open near the club. Eddie clapped his hands rapidly and loud,
“Yay! This is awesome! I should charge to let someone park here and bring my car home.”
As they approached the building, Brandon could hear the thumping bass. His heart was beating with anticipation to get inside and dance. It had been a long time. The line was long but moved quickly and they were inside within minutes. Eddie was known to deal the drug Ecstasy and he melded into a large group of twinks waiting for him. He waved as he disappeared, carried off by club boys reaching for Eddie as if they were baby birds about to be fed.
“Gotta go girls, mama’s wanted! Lets meet here at last call.”
Josh, Brandon and Zach watched Eddie vanish into the crowd of thin, shirtless boys and they decided to dance. The floor was packed as they knifed their way to the center. Brandon and Zach took their shirts off and attempted to remove Josh’s.
“Don’t even try.” Josh warned with a waving finger, “once this shirt comes off anyone in a two foot radius will get bruised by my flying man tits.”
They all laughed. Brandon watched the crowd as he danced. Everyone but Josh seemed to have his shirt off. It was a sea of sweating, gyrating gay men. The crowded dance floor seemed to be one maniacal dancing beast, a huge flowing body. He looked up at the light grid that started to descend. Twirling lights flashed and flickered to each pulse of bass. Brandon looked at the bartenders, practically twins in their Manhole uniforms. Tight polo shirts hugged their pecks and flattered their biceps. Both were swaying to the beat simultaneously. He looked at the DJ booth, a tiny guy wearing a huge plaid hat and red suspenders crouched over the vinyl. Then he stood straight up, held an earphone to his ear and waved a hand in the air as the song mated with another. Two huge bouncers wearing headsets and the Manhole uniform were also in synchronicity with each other as they swayed like ships standing at the exit doors. The fact that everyone was moving to the music filled Josh with joy and he smiled. “The rhythm of life.” He thought to himself, “you either move to the beat or stand on the side waiting, waiting for what though?” Zach poked him on the shoulder and smiled. The three danced for quite awhile when Josh, sweaty and tired left the floor. The music pulsated through Brandon and he looked at Zach’s smooth chest and tight abs. “Gosh Marcus its been over a year. When will I let you go?” They danced for another hour and stared into each other’s eyes with audible smiles.
Last call was made and the four were reunited at the club door.
“Are you guys ready to leave” Eddie shouted.
“We’re ready, lets leave before the ugly lights go on.” Josh added.
It became apparent after they left the club that Eddie was rolling. He wanted the four of them to go to the after hours club and immediately hugged Brandon and squealed, “Come on guys lets go to Awake and have more fun. Gosh Brandon you are so cute, so are you Zach and Josh I just want to hug you.” He let Brandon go and wrapped his arms around Josh. He planted a big kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks for the party babe, but I’ve gotta get some sleep.” Josh said as he squeezed Eddie and picked him up.
“You’re just an old biddy. But I still love you. What about you guys?” Eddie asked as he pointed to Zach and Brandon, “You would love Awake, the guys are so cute and everyone is so friendly.”
“Naw, Brandon and I are going to walk home.” Zach looked at Brandon, “That is if its ok?”
“Of course.” Brandon heard himself say eagerly, his heartbeat faster.
“You guys are poopers. Come with me, it’ll be fun please!” Eddie pleaded.
An unfamiliar voice shouted, “Oh Eddie are you coming or what!?” A skinny boy with blonde hair walked toward the foursome as if he were trying to stay on a painted line. “Percy, Thomas and Nathaniel are waiting by your car, lets go.” The kid stomped his foot and took a long dramatic drag from his cigarette.
“Mama’s coming!” Eddie shouted over his shoulder. “You guys all know that I love you and that you are the best of friends! Smooches.” He blew them kisses and waltzed to the waiting boy. The three watched as Eddie wrapped his arms around the young boy and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“What a trip Josh. Where did you meet him again?” Brandon asked.
“The short story is a bakery, a cake and two horny queens.” Josh said as he flagged down a cab. “Call me tomorrow Bran, I’m glad you had fun. You need more of it. Nice meeting you Zach hope to see you again.” Josh climbed in and the cab drove away leaving Zach and Brandon alone on the sidewalk.
“Well what should we do now?” Zach turned to Brandon.
“I don’t live too far from here, why don’t we walk?
“Sure. Where do you live?”
“Appleton Street.”
“What number?” Zach opened his eyes wide and jumped.
“Eighty two.” Brandon replied looking at the ground while he walked with hands in pockets.
“No way Brandon! I live at seventy-six! We’re practically neighbors!”
“How long have you lived there?” He removed his hands from his pockets and looked at Zach.
“About two years, what about you?” Zach walked sideways and eagerly inquired.
“I moved in with my lover three years ago.” Brandon bit his lower lip.
A clearly deflated look occupied Zach’s face and he slowed his pace to walk forward. Brandon could see the disappointed expression exposed by the gas lanterns. “Boyfriend?” Zach quietly asked.
“Well ex, I mean, late. He died a year ago.” Brandon slipped off the curb and into the street.
“What was his name?” Zach offered his hand to pull Brandon back up. He took it and the two walked side by side, neither letting go.
“Marcus.” Brandon felt happy saying his name aloud. A strange tingling fell over him as he became aware that he was holding Zach’s hand.
“Well I’m sorry for your loss. He must’ve been special.” His forearm rubbed Brandon’s.
“Very. It’s weird how you connect with some people. That magic was there for us and I knew from the start that there was something special about him. We were together for five years.” Brandon looked up at the moon and the clouds that were devouring her.
“I think I know what you mean. I’ve met some guys where I can’t wait to leave their presence. How was it right for you and Marcus?” Zach tripped over the uneven brick sidewalk and stumbled a bit.
“He was right for me because we kissed on our first date. I had never done that before him.” Brandon became more animated as he spoke about Marcus.
“How did he die if you don’t mind me asking?” Zach cautiously stepped over a hole in the sidewalk.
“He was on the treadmill at Buff Bodies. We were doing cardio and suddenly he just collapsed. We rushed him to the hospital but he was dead. A heart attack. We were the same age, didn’t do drugs and we both ate healthy. It was a shock.” Brandon’s eyes became glossy.
“That sounds horrible.” Zach stared in disbelief at what he heard. “Almost unbelievable. So young”
“Yeah, I saw it all.” In his head, Brandon went back to the gym, caught himself and cleared his throat.
“It sounds like you went through hell.” Zach said obviously impacted.
“Close to it. It was hard. A freak death like that, you never think it’ll be you or a someone you’re close to.” There was a pause as the two let go of each other to go around a tree. “ So what about you?”
“What about me?” Zach cautiously responded and grabbed Brandon’s hand.
“Is Zach short for Zachary?” Brandon felt silly for asking.
“No, its Zach.”
“Are you single?” Brandon prodded and felt like Barbara Walters.
“Yes.” Zach said with a smile.
“So why are you single? Cliché question I know, but you’re so cute and seem to have it together.” Brandon felt his face burn with embarrassment and was glad the evening hid his complexion.
“Thanks and you’re cute too.” Zach smiled and nudged Brandon. “I’m just waiting for the right guy. I like being single and don’t want to waste my time on nonsense relationships. I’ve been in too many where you invest so much of your time and energy but they fall apart because of insecurities. I guess you can say I’m afraid and my fear is my baggage.”
“Well, I’ve got plenty of baggage and let me tell you, its not matching.” Brandon replied as his eyebrows arched.
The two laughed and bumped into each other. Then there was silence.
“Well this is my place.” They arrived at Brandon’s apartment building, stopped and turned to face each other.
“I’d like to see you again.” Zach looked Brandon straight in the eyes.
“Yeah, that would be nice.” Brandon started to shake with nervousness.
“What about tomorrow night. Dinner?”
“Yeah, sure I’d like that.” Brandon was shocked that he had actually accepted.
The two then lightly kissed each other on the lips. Brandon couldn't believe what he was doing. It was if he was cheating on Marcus. He ended the kiss and said goodnight to Zach.
"Meet me here tomorrow at seven." Brandon turned, went to unlock the front door and dropped the keys. He picked them up, turned around and waved goodbye to Zach. The key could barely get in the lock with Brandon’s shaky hands. His pulse was racing a mile a minute and he was lightheaded. He managed to get in the building and close the door behind him. “What a loser I am, is Zach short for Zachary” he mumbled to himself as he leaned on the inside of the front door. A yell was building up in his stomach and yearning to escape but he felt Zach might hear him. He climbed one flight of stairs to his apartment two steps at a time.
The apartment door opened with the usual squeak. It was dark except for the light from the street coming in the front bay window and reflecting off the hardwood floor. He looked around at the condo that he and Marcus had purchased. “The rhythm of life, you either dance to the beat or you stand on the side waiting.” He said aloud as he walked to the bathroom and undressed. He got ready for bed and climbed in with a smile on his face.
Brandon had a dream that night. Marcus was sitting at the end of his bed rubbing his leg when there was a knock on the bedroom door. Marcus stood up, walked to the door and opened it. Standing on the other side was Zach. Marcus shook his hand and invited him in. Once Zach was in the bedroom Marcus turned to Brandon winked and said, “I’m going dancing.” Then he stepped into the hallway and shut the bedroom door behind him and left Zach and Brandon alone.
Fair
back to top
My monologue this evening is about how judgment of others in the gay community is hurtful and why we shouldn’t do it.
But before I get started I have a very quick story to tell you. Do you mind? I was walking down Commercial Street after workshop today, on my way to the beach to write. I saw the cutest guy walk to the pool at The Boatslip. Time was of the essence to write the monologue, which you’ll soon hear, but I figured a little hunky inspiration would help. Right? And besides its so much work to get to the beach here. I went to the pool and penetrated a hidden oasis of beautiful, greased up, rock hard bodies strewn about the pool yard. Now if I was one of those flamboyant fags, I’d fan myself with both hands. Well actually I did. And right away I got attention. There were a gaggle of gay boys, you know, those young types that never eat, wear velvet and colored sunglasses. They sound as if they suck on helium. Well one of them looks at me, didn’t even pretend that I wasn’t supposed to hear him, “What is up with her?” Then they formed what looked like a healing circle. You know what I mean, huddled arm and arm. They all looked at me and giggled. They must of thought I was cute. I wasn’t interested though. The monologue’s coming, I promise.
So I was trying to scope out that cute guy. I spotted him all the way across the deck. The sun glistened off his smooth olive flesh. His pectorals and biceps created shadows on his towel as he flapped it out full length and lay it gently on his chez lounge. I felt like asking him if I could wash my shirt on his stomach. Ohh. He must spend all his time in the gym. Clearly he’s kept.
So I rented a chez lounge and it could only be carried by this cute little “pool boy” A Boatslip policy. I followed him through the sea of flesh and passed another group of hot looking guys. And again, gay men, they pretend to talk so quietly yet you can hear them. “Check out her hair” and then another one said, “Or lack of it” they must’ve been complimenting my new haircut. And then in true gay fashion it always turns to sex; “And those shorts, he should just take them off.” And they all giggled like girls. I didn’t like any of them. Twinks you know…Ecstasy and crystal queens. They all had love handles and should’ve had their shirts on. Its called cardio.
So “pool boy” decides to put me right next to some old guy. I mean he must’ve been about 30. Can you believe it? I asked to be moved and all I got was a view of his back walking away. Nice swish. I figured I would just move myself closer to the guy. I needed that energy he emitted in order to write my monologue. Which I’ll get to soon, I’m almost done.
So I looked over to see him laying on his back, oh, beautiful legs, just the right amount of hair, not like those men who shave their legs I mean what is that? And he was wearing the tightest fitting little box cut you’ve ever seen. Only there wasn’t anything square about the bulge. Can I say that? While I was admiring him “pool boy” appeared out of nowhere and put another chez lounge right in my spot! And this guy, clearly a bear with all his body hair, sat down. How gross. Polluting my creative space with his bearness. I’m sure the other guy would’ve rather had me there. Then I heard a hiss from behind, “Excuse me, can you please sit down sir, you’re in my sun.”
“Sir?” I turned around to find a nerdy little guy wearing the ugliest bathing suit pulled up past his belly button. There were tufts of hair coming from each nipple and protruding from under his arms. His toenails were yellow and brown. And his skin, somebody call a dermatologist. Oh, Botox does wonders and so does Rogaine. Tell me to sit down? But you know what? I didn’t tell him anything. Because I don’t judge people and besides I had a monologue to write.