Don't Ask, Don't Tell

by M. T. Pope

  The first words he saw were, “I hoped you’d be on tonight Generalone.”

  Generalone: how are you?

  Kiss-n-tell: not good. got some bad news today. can we go to a private room? could use a friend tonight.

  The two moved into an uninhabited room.

  Generalone: what happened?

  Kiss-n-tell: my mother died today.

  Orpheus was shocked when he read the words. He’d expected to see, “lost my job,” or “house went into foreclosure,” but not a dead parent. He’d extended the condolences of the nation to many who had lost sons and daughters, husbands and wives in combat, but somehow this was different. Once again he didn’t know the rules.

  Generalone: I am so sorry David. How did she die?

  Kiss-n-tell: heart attack.

  Generalone: where did she live?

  Kiss-n-tell: Los Angeles

  Generalone: are you going there?

  Kiss-n-tell: not until the service next week. My brother is making the arrangements

  Generalone: do you have anyone here that can be with you tonight. You shouldn’t be alone.

  There was a pause before the response appeared. “I’m embarrassed to say that’s why I’d hoped you’d be on tonight. Sad to say but you’re the only person I have to talk to in San Francisco. Guess I’m one of those lonely losers I always felt sorry for.”

  Generalone: don’t be embarrassed. sometimes I feel like you’re the only person I have to talk to as well.

  Kiss-n-tell: im glad we have each other.

  Generalone: so am i.

  Kiss-n-tell: i’ve never felt this alone before. im almost afraid.

  Generalone: don’t be afraid. you’re not alone.

  Again the words on the screen stopped. Orpheus waited impatiently for a response, but there was none. “are you there?”

  Kiss-n-tell: just wasn’t expecting to hear that. It felt good.

  Generalone: i meant it.

  Orpheus looked at the digital clock on the desk. It was 12:23. Could he do it without anyone hearing him leave? Could he start the car undetected? Could he get back to the house before anyone noticed that he had gone?

  Generalone: you shouldn’t be alone. do you want me to come over?

  Within seconds the word “yes” appeared on the screen.

  It was a cold summer night in the Haight-Ashbury District. The thick fog enveloped everything in its path on Haight Street. Cars were covered in a blanket of rolling mist. Homeless men and women huddled under cardboard boxes in shop doorways and every other nook they could find to shield themselves from the damp bay air. Giant white globes at the tops of the antique lamps lining the street were covered in the fog causing the mist to glow like a phantom roaming the deserted street.

  Orpheus had left the chat room after he saw, “Kiss-n-tell: 2006 oak street #102,” on the screen. He made a stealthy exit from his home in the Presidio while Raven tapped away on her laptop, Reva posed in front of the mirror studying tomorrow’s outfit, and Little’O curled in his bed dreaming of life at West Point.

  He was the only driver on the one-way street. To his left was the narrow panhandle of Golden Gate Park and on the right was a long block of blue, beige, and pink Victorian houses with neatly manicured yards and white picket fences.

  Orpheus slowed the car to a crawl when he reached the 2000 block of Oak Street. He could barely see the addresses through the fog on the blue, beige, and pink homes. Then he saw it. A two-story blue Victorian fourplex with white trim and a dense layer of trees that obscured views into the windows. There was only one light on in the entire building, which he assumed was Kiss-n-tell’s unit.

  What are you doing, man? he thought, sitting in the quiet car in front of the building. There were a dozen reasons why he should start the car and go back to the Presidio. What if Raven found out? What if he’s unattractive? What if he has AIDS? What if ... The list grew the longer he sat in the car, staring at the window with the light on. Then he remembered the reason why he had told himself to come. The poor man needs me. His mother just died. This thought helped in easing his conscience. I’ll go in, give him a shoulder to cry on, say a few nice words and then leave. Simple as that. Just a man helping a man through a difficult time. This notion appealed to his humanity and highly evolved sense of responsibility to his fellow man.

  Orpheus exited the car and turned up the collar on his coat. He had been careful to divest his clothing of any military clues before he left the house. He was just a man on a humanitarian mission in the middle of the night.

  As he walked to the door, the light in the window turned off. Orpheus stopped on the walkway for a moment, but then proceeded boldly to the door and rang the doorbell. He saw the curtain rustle in the same window and the light turned back on. His heart pounded in his chest when he heard the locks unlatching. Again he was keenly aware of the fact that he was on unfamiliar ground. He didn’t know the rules and at that moment the instincts that had kept him alive in enemy territory were nowhere to be found.

  When the door opened he saw David for the first time standing in the threshold. He was taller than he had imagined and nothing like what he had envisioned. He was wearing a baggy pair of sweat pants and a wrinkled white T-shirt. David didn’t have blond hair or blue eyes and he wasn’t six four. He was so much more than that. His skin was a flawless rich mahogany. His brown eyes touched Orpheus’s heart so gently that he wanted to turn away in embarrassment. No one had ever touched him in that way before.

  “I didn’t think you were coming. I was just about to go to bed,” he said slowly.

  The sound of his gentle voice called Orpheus back to reality. “Are you Michael?” he asked.

  “No, Michael,” the man in the threshold said. “I’m only David in the cyber world. My real name is Darius,” he said, extending his hand. “You’re black.”

  “I know,” Orpheus replied with a smile. “And so are you.”

  “Are you disappointed that I’m not six four, and blond with piercing blue eyes?” Darius said defiantly.

  “No. I’m relieved,” Orpheus said with a smile. “You are beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Darius replied as if he had heard the compliment many times before.

  “Are you disappointed that I’m not six four, blond, and blue?” Orpheus asked nervously.

  “Are you joking?” Darius asked sincerely. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re gorgeous.”

  If Orpheus could blush he would have at that moment. He’d been called handsome many times in his life, even elegant, but never gorgeous. He wasn’t even sure he knew exactly what it meant in the context of two men meeting for the first time.

  “Thank you, I think,” he said, brushing off the compliment.

  “So would you like to come in,” Darius said, stepping to the side,” or should we continue to admire each other here on the porch?”

  Orpheus responded by walking into the apartment. The unit was part living space and part photography studio. All but one window was covered by black fabric. The ceiling was as high as those normally found in lofts and the floors were glossy gray cement. One half of the large space was filled with computer screens, expensive looking cameras, lighting devices, and tripods of varying sizes and the other a comfortable living space with a large black sectional sofa, and three ottomans covered in florescent green, yellow, and red leather. Six-foot-high photographs of pouting models, snow-capped mountains, and seductively posed men hung on the white walls.

  “So you’re a photographer in the real world as well as in cyber,” Orpheus commented, pointing to the pictures.

  Darius smiled. “Yes. Some things are the same in both worlds. Let me take your coat. Would you like something to drink?”

  “No,” Orpheus answered quickly. “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. So how are you doing?”

  Orpheus kept his coat on and the two men sat on the sofa at a respectable distance. Orpheus noticed a trash basket next to a desk on t
he other side of the room filled with crumpled tissues.

  “I don’t think I’m doing so well,” Darius said, laying his head on the back of the sofa. “I can’t believe she’s gone. I just talked to her yesterday. I told her I would be home next month. Now I’ll never see her again.”

  A tear fell from Darius’s eye as he spoke. “She was my best friend. Now she’s gone. I’ve never felt this alone in my life.”

  Orpheus’s heart melted at the sight of the vulnerable young man. All his reservations evaporated. “Come here, Darius.” The words flowed freely from his lips.

  Darius melted into Orpheus’s arms and rested his head on his chest. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”

  Orpheus wiped the tears from his cheek and gently kissed his forehead. “Go ahead, Darius,” he said softly. “Let it out. I’m here. It’s good to cry.”

  Orpheus held him closely until the gentle sobs subsided. He listened to stories of how his mother would send him care packages of homemade cookies and his favorite pastrami sandwiches that could only be found at Johnnies in Los Angeles on Adams and Crenshaw. He continued to wipe the tears as they fell and laughed at the appropriate places and was silent when Darius needed it the most.

  An hour went by as if it were five minutes. Time almost stood still for Orpheus with the young man in his arms. It seemed so natural and right. He couldn’t tell if it was one in the morning or one in the afternoon. The blacked-out windows separated the room from the rest of the world. The only thing that mattered to him was the beautiful man he held in his arms.

  “I appreciate you coming here tonight. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

  “You shouldn’t be at a time like this,” Orpheus said, stroking his hair.

  “I’m feeling better now. It’s late. I know you have to go soon. I’ll be all right.”

  Orpheus didn’t want to let go. He felt so good in his arms. He was glad he waited all those years to hold a man that close. Darius was the man he was destined to hold. Orpheus lifted Darius’s head and looked in his eyes. “You are a beautiful man, Darius. I’m feel very lucky that I met you.”

  In an instant their lips touched. His sweet breath was intoxicating. The room began to spin as their lips pressed together. It was his first kiss and it felt like he had never kissed anyone before. The kiss was slow and passionate. Years of loneliness, isolation, and confusion melted away. Orpheus removed his jacket while their lips remained pressed together. Orpheus made love to a man for the first time that night, and for the first time his world made perfect sense.

  Chapter 7

  Three weeks came and went in the Roulette household. Tennis club dates, school plays, debate club happened on schedule, and the ongoing battle over pork occasionally reared its head at dinner time. Li Yeng baked, sautéed, peeled, and diced in the shadows while Raven spent hours solidifying her future in the Republican Party. She never mentioned her time with Trugonoff to Orpheus other than to say, “He thinks you have a bright future in the party.”

  The words “vice president” were never uttered. Raven instead chose to work behind the scenes to solidify Orpheus’s place on the ticket. She knew that when it became fait accompli he would not have the option of backing out. Strategy and planning were critical in her well-plotted world and her political instincts had never failed her. Orpheus would find out he was to be vice president only when she was ready to tell him.

  Meanwhile, Darius had become an important part of Orpheus’s life. The chat room conversations morphed into text messages, telephone calls, and e-mails. The stolen brief moments turned into lazy afternoons in Darius’s bed and walks in Golden Gate Park. To him there was nothing “gay” about his relationship with Darius. It was only love.

  On one afternoon Orpheus and Darius were the only people left in the restaurant after the lunch crowd had gobbled down their food and returned to their cubicles. Crepes of all kinds were on the menu. Young tattooed chefs poured batter on griddles and stuffed the thin shells with mushrooms, chicken, cheeses, and any other filling their patrons desired. The choices were displayed behind a glass shield and all they had to do was pick, point, and pay.

  “I never thought I’d say this to a man,” went one such conversation over a meal in a crowded restaurant on Haight Street. “But I think I’m falling in love with you,” Orpheus said in a whisper. “I never thought it was possible.”

  “Don’t say that, David,” Darius had responded. “You don’t even know me that well. And I know very little about you. You never talk about your work. I still don’t know where you live.”

  Orpheus was unaffected by the response. “Are you saying you don’t feel the same way about me?”

  Darius hesitated and then said, “Of course do. I’ve never been this happy before in my life. But ...”

  “But what?” Orpheus said, touching his hand and then abruptly pulling it away. “Why are you afraid of loving me?”

  “Because I don’t want to be hurt, David. I’ve been hurt before and I don’t know that I can go through that again.”

  “I won’t hurt you, Darius. I love you. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone in my life.”

  The waiter appeared at the table, balancing two steaming plates. “Hello, gentleman. Who had the chicken crepe?”

  Orpheus raised his hand, obviously irritated by the interruption.

  “And this is the vegetarian,” he said, placing the dish in front of Darius. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

  “No,” Darius said politely. “Thank you.”

  “Look, Darius, I know I haven’t told you much about my life but you already know the important thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That I love you. Isn’t that enough for now?”

  Darius did not respond.

  Orpheus continued to plead his case, undaunted by reticence. “I promise as time goes on you’ll find out everything you ever wanted to know about me. But you have to be patient. I’m new at this and I have to move at my own pace. But that doesn’t take away from the way I feel about you. I just need you to trust me.”

  “I do trust you, Michael,” Darius said, looking down at the cooling plate. “That’s the problem. I trust you for no reason other than the fact that I love you.”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  A day hadn’t gone by that the two had not either talked, texted, e-mailed, or touched. Most days it was a combination of them all. Orpheus was driven to distraction on the base. He often found himself staring dreamily out the window of his office wishing Darius were near him. Uniformed soldiers marched past like images in a video game. Sweating, grunting cadets wearing government-issued running shorts and moist T-shirts jogged back and forth and army green Jeeps raced from one side of the base to the other, all in the name of freedom and the American way, but Orpheus could only think of the sweet way Darius’s sandalwood soap made his soft skin smell and the way he walked naked so unselfconsciously around his apartment after they made love.

  During that time Raven had found a new lover. A lover who could satisfy her like no man she had ever known. One who caressed her at night and cradled her in his powerful arms until she fell blissfully into sleep. The quest for power was man enough for her. The sweet, intoxicating smell of victory filled her nostrils as she drove through the city, lunched with the girls, slammed the ball across the tennis court, and lay in bed next to her husband.

  Three Mondays had come and gone and each had included lunch with Carla and Alice at the Fairmont Hotel. The usual crew of socialites and a sprinkling of tourists filled the restaurant. The waiters danced across the floor and the wine flowed into bottomless glasses.

  “So how did it go with Victor?” Carla had asked over lunch.

  Raven had by then washed the smell of him from her skin and the revulsion from her memory. “He was a perfect gentleman,” she said, twirling white wine in her glass. “Have you seen that yacht? It’s disgusting. I want one.”

  The three women bur
st into laughter. “What would you do with a yacht, girl?” Carla asked, laughing. “Nobody sails in Washington. It’s going to be concerts at the Kennedy Center, private dinner parties in Georgetown, and state dinners at the White House for you.”

  “I can live with that,” Raven said, raising her glass. “To state dinners.”

  The ladies clinked their glasses in the center of the table. “To Washington.”

  Carla wasn’t finished. “So you’re trying to tell us that he didn’t make a pass at you.”

  “Not even a hint. If I hadn’t been so relieved I think I would have been insulted,” she said convincingly.

  “Can you imagine having to sleep with that old man?” Rita said with a frown. “His dick must look like a shriveled-up prune.”

  Carla gagged on her drink and said through coughs, “He probably smells like formaldehyde.” More laughter erupted from the table.

  “You girls are just being mean,” Raven said, playing along with the fun. “I think he’s a very kindly old man.”

  “Darling, you pat kindly old men on the head,” Carla said with a smile. “You don’t fuck them.”

  “So what does Orpheus have to say about all of this?” Alice asked. “How is he dealing with all the attention? Must be very exciting for him.”

  “You know Orpheus,” Raven said between bites of her cobb salad. “He’s like a stone. Nothing impresses him.”

  “You mean he’s not excited about DC?”

  “We haven’t really talked about it much.”

  Carla and Alice looked at each other skeptically. They each privately found it difficult to believe Victor had not come on to Raven. Any man—gay, straight, or celibate—if left alone with Raven, would come on to her.

  “So what did he say?” Carla asked. “Come on, girl, spill it.”

  Raven looked over both her shoulders and leaned into the table. “Swear you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  The girls crossed their hearts.

  “He said Orpheus was going to be the next vice president.”