It's Raining Men

by Jennifer Stevenson

  Now the big screen was showing Lido. I said, “Huh. The camera follows the microphone.”

  “The mike has a tracker in it,” Archie said. “Okay, now move.”

  Singing, Lido danced over to the far side of the pool table area. The big screen picked him up him no matter where he moved. When he got back to the laptop, he poked at it. The screens went silver-blank and the music stopped.

  “Good enough.” Archie turned off the power to the screens.

  I wandered over to Lido and picked up the microphone, pretending to examine it—and sneaked the ballpoint pen into the back pocket of his overalls.

  When I turned around, I thought maybe Archie had seen me. He was frowning.

  Someone rapped on the front door. “Anybody here?”

  Lido went on fiddling with the laptop.

  “Get that, will you?” Archie said to me.

  The visitor was Marc, the organizer from the AIDS ball. “Sorry, I thought somebody would be—ah,” he said, seeing Lido.

  Lido looked up at him, and his big brown eyes suddenly widened. His body went still. I watched, thinking of the charm. “Hey,” he said and swallowed.

  Marc walked up to the wall of screens. “Pretty fucking awesome,” he said. “Do they sync?”

  Archie pressed the remote and the whole wall sprang to life again.

  “It works with the karaoke setup,” Lido said and picked up the mike. I thought he would hand it to me again, but instead he stepped onto the platform and restarted Sheryl Crow’s twisted ballad, his hips swaying again to the music.

  Marc watched him, dumbstruck. I was noticing how well Lido and his tattooed parrot face looked on the huge screen.

  But Marc wasn’t watching the screen. He was looking at Lido.

  “When I’m throwing punches in the air,” Lido sang.

  Marc put one foot on the platform.

  In slow motion, singing, Lido handed him the microphone.

  Marc took it from him and stepped up on the platform, and they sang the chorus together.

  I sidled over next to Archie. “That thing is amazing,” I said quietly. “Did you get a kit, or what?”

  “I designed the circuits so it would all plug together,” he said. He was frowning at Lido. “And the framework. Lido had the karaoke rig laying around.”

  “What about the microphone thingy? Don’t tell me the factory setup knows how to track who’s holding the mike. I can’t figure out how it works.”

  “Just a little creative reuse of cheap spy gear,” Archie said smugly. He began putting his tools in a toolbox on the pool table.

  “You could make a fortune off this,” I said. “The party club circuit.”

  He shrugged. “Somebody else could. Someone who wanted to get it manufactured and patented, and then fuck around with marketing and distribution and sales. Sounds like work to me.”

  I wanted to clout him upside the head, but in spite of Marc’s fascination with Lido, Lido was keeping his eyes on Archie and me. Poor Lido.

  “How can you be too lazy to sell this to somebody who will make you some real money, and yet not be too lazy to design and build it?” I said, frustrated. “Get a limited partner. There are companies that do nothing except market smart guys’ brilliant inventions. Like this one.”

  He didn’t seem flattered to be called a smart guy. “Then I’d have to watch the limited partner all the time to make sure he wasn’t fucking me over. Too much work.”

  “This from the guy who gave all his homework away to his roommate in exchange for beer money twenty-three-hundred years ago?”

  “And wench money. And rent. I was expensive even back then.”

  He dropped the last pair of needle nose pliers into the toolbox and snapped the lid shut. “Did you find the charm? I put it in your purse.” He glanced past me to Lido and Marc. “Uh-oh.” He glowered at me. “You didn’t.”

  Lido was no longer watching Archie. He and Marc were entwined around the microphone together, crooning into one another’s eyes.

  “Why not?” I said. “I don’t want a decent guy, and he does.”

  “You idiot,” Archie hissed into my ear. “He’s straight. Go get it.”

  “No, really,” I said.

  But Archie glared at me. “Go get it.” He did not seem amused.

  I shrugged and walked up to them. They ignored me. I had to admit, I was curious about what would happen when I sneaked the pen out of Lido’s back pocket.

  There.

  I backed away quickly, holding my breath.

  They stood silent a moment, each with both his hands on the microphone, their faces magnified on screen.

  Lido’s eyes got bigger and bigger and bigger. He took a step back, then another. Then he stumbled off the platform and fled toward the men’s room.

  Marc stepped off the platform, calmly laid the mike on the pool table, and followed.

  Archie began hauling cardboard boxes out the back door. “You idiot,” he said again, when they had disappeared into the men’s. “Now look what you’ve done.”

  “Earth to Arch,” I said. “He’s gay. He’s known he was gay since he was a little kid.” As we talked, I dragged cardboard boxes out to the Dumpster beside him.

  “You’re full of shit,” he said furiously. “That magic is supposed to work on straight women. God knows what it’ll do to him.”

  “I think Marc knows. I would hold off taking a leak for a while. Unless you want your big fat straight Greek guy sensibilities shocked.”

  Archie seemed genuinely perturbed. “This is wrong.”

  “I thought better of you,” I said. “I didn’t think a sex demon would freak about gay.”

  Archie sputtered, “Gay I can deal with. A straight roommate who gets turned gay by a piece of crap magic that’s been misapplied—”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. “Is that what this is about? You don’t mind that gay guys exist, but you don’t want to room with one?”

  “No,” he said indignantly. Then he slowed to a stop, looking at me with puzzled eyes. “No, of course not.”

  “Better be sure,” I said. I felt increasingly uneasy. If I’d screwed up their cozy living arrangement, and outed Lido by slipping him the pen-charm, I’d have to hate myself. “He’s been gay all this time,” I said gently. “The charm probably just attracted Marc to the bar.”

  “And the damn door was locked,” Archie said as if he wasn’t listening to me. “Shit. That’s some powerful magic.” He watched the men’s room door with worried eyes.

  “How does the charm work, anyway?” I said.

  He gave me some rigmarole about loading your emotion into a gun and then firing it, or powering your intention with desire focused by something physical like the rabbit’s foot or the pen or whatever. In the middle of this rambly speech I remembered why I’d come to Cheaters tonight and interrupted him.

  “And, by the way, I caught you trying to whammy me last night, Ben.”

  He faced me then. “What?”

  “You tried to hypnotize me and magic my memory away last night. While we were you know? Don’t think I didn’t notice. I was planning to mess with you and pretend it worked for five minutes, and then, surprise! But then I found you being a genius with the karaoke screens and I forgave you.” I hadn’t meant to say that.

  “Fucking magic,” he muttered.

  “What?” I said.

  He shook his head. “Let this be a lesson to me. The less you use, the better.”

  “Am I even in this conversation?” I began, feeling testy.

  The front door opened, and a crowd of customers came in all at once. Archie looked past me with relief in his face.

  “I have to get dressed. Run the bar for me for five minutes?” He bolted for the manager’s office, stopped, ran back to the pool table for his toolbox, and ran to the manager’s office again.

  I took a long, calming breath. Then I ducked under the flap and took Archie’s spot behind the bar.

  The first guy to o
rder a beer asked me out. The second guy put his card on the bar and told me I needed some insurance. The third guy grabbed my hand and kissed it, spilling his wine on the bar. They all wanted to talk to me.

  It was crazy.

  More guys were coming over to the bar. They all wanted to talk to me.

  One hefty blonde woman sat at the end of the bar all by herself, looking sour. I hadn’t gotten to her yet. I hand-signaled her a promise to get to her right away, honest, first chance I got.

  I took the fourth guy’s credit card, ran the charge, and slapped a pen down in front of him, only to realize that it was the pen I’d had since I snuck it out of Lido’s pocket and then absentmindedly stuck into the inside pocket of my suit jacket.

  The charm. The “decent man” charm.

  Oh, brother.

  Remembering its effect on Lido, I snatched the pen out of the fourth guy’s hand—“Sorry, that one doesn’t work”—and scrambled under the bar for another pen. While he was signing, I sprinted down the bar and, without a word, handed the pen to the blonde waiting to give me her order.

  Every one of those bozos surged down to her end of the bar.

  In ten seconds she was surrounded.

  I was left, abandoned and breathless, propping myself against the liquor rack with both hands.

  Archie ducked under the flap and moved to me. “What the hell?” He was looking at the mob around the blonde at the end of the bar. “You didn’t. Dammit, Chloe, we worked like dogs on that charm—”

  “You had sex with me. Lido worked. Look, I don’t want a rain of decent men, okay?”

  He looked dark. “Well, you’re getting one. I refuse to get on both the Home Office radar and the Regional Office radar just because you’re shy.”

  That hurt. I scowled. “All these women deserve a rain of decent men. Every one of them. You screwed their lives up too. You rat.” I ducked under the flap and breezed past my would-be suitors to the ladies’ room.

  I leaned against the wall in the back stall and shut my eyes, feeling weepy and thinking cranky thoughts about sex demons.

  And heard voices.

  Lido.

  And Marc.

  I looked up and saw a vent in the wall above my head. For a moment I considered leaving. Instead, I slipped off my heels and climbed up on the commode to get closer to the vent.

  “I know you’re in here,” I heard Lido say.

  “Of course I’m in here,” Marc said.

  Lido sounded belligerent, anxious, defensive.

  Marc sounded soothing.

  I wondered just how much bathroom sex Lido had ever had. With boys.

  Any?

  Ever?

  “Did you come over here for a reason?” Lido sneered. I could hear the empty bravado through the vent.

  “Nope,” Marc said.

  Silence. I flapped my ears harder.

  “Look, Cheaters isn’t that kind of bar.” Lido said.

  Silence for a long moment.

  Marc’s voice came more quietly now. “What kind?” There was a faint bumping noise, like a stall door swinging open. He sounded even more gentle. “This kind?”

  My heart stood still, waiting for sound. What had I done? Archie would be furious. At the same time I was cheering for Lido—or hoping I had reason to.

  If Marc hurt him, I’d feel even worse.

  Lido’s voice came again, panting. “Why did you come here?”

  “To invite you to my mom’s house Friday night.”

  “What?” Lido barked.

  “My sister’s a hell of a cook.” Marc’s voice was still soft, but more relaxed. “Bring a friend if you want.”

  There was another electric silence.

  “So,” Marc said. “Four o’clock, here’s the address. See you there?”

  Silence again. I heard the door to the men’s room open. One of them must have left. I flipped a coin in my head. It would be Marc. Lido would still be in there, pulling himself together.

  I took a deep breath and opened the door to the ladies’ room with maximum stealth.

  When Lido came out of the men’s, I was rummaging in the supply closet across the narrow hall for a roll of toilet paper.

  “Chloe, what are you doing Friday night?” he said without preamble.

  “Not a thing,” I said.

  “I’ll pick you up before sunset.”

  “Okay,” I said, blinking.

  Lido nodded curtly and stomped off toward the bar. There was a testy little snap to his sashay.

  I frowned after him.

  “He’s gay, you know,” said a woman coming toward the bathrooms. She was the blonde I’d given the pen charm to.

  I wondered how it was working for her. She looked pink in the face, but not drunk, to my experienced eye. Past her, I saw four male faces peering after her from the bar.

  I stepped closer. “There’s something I should tell you.”

  She was ten years older than me, eight inches shorter, forty pounds heavier, and had a tired, kind face.

  “You look sparkly-eyed,” I said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “There’s four guys out there who seem to like me. What are the odds that they’re all in a fraternity, coming on to me for a bet?”

  “It’s your pen,” I said.

  “My what?”

  Cupping my hand to her ear, I explained as quickly as I could about the Ravenswood Project and the charm Lido and Archie had made to compensate for the damage done to us neighborhood women. Discreetly, I did not mention that both sex demons were out there in the bar, too. “So that’s why it’s raining men on you.”

  Blondie gawked. “You gave the pen to me? Whatever for?”

  “I have a boyfriend,” I said.

  She squinted at me. “And yet you’re chasing a gay rock star.”

  “Chasing—oh, Lido? I’m not chasing him.”

  “I heard you make a date with him for Friday night.”

  “It’s a friend date, not a date date. How do you—what makes you think he’s gay?”

  She rolled her eyes. “The article in the Reader, duh. Some putz saw him at the AIDS Benefit Ball and outed him.”

  I squinted. “Do you believe the article?”

  “I didn’t when I read it, but I do now. I mean, look at him.”

  I had to admit, Lido had more swing in his back porch tonight than usual. He was drinking a beer, watching a pool game. As Blondie and I watched, Marc came up to him, beer in hand. After a moment’s talk, they put their beers down and picked up pool cues.

  “There, see?” Blondie said.

  There was definitely crackle around the pool table.

  “What are you going to do with your rain of men, then?” I said, changing the subject.

  “I’m not sure I believe—” the blonde began, and then her expression changed. “Let’s go in the ladies’.”

  I turned to see what she’d seen.

  “There you are,” said a male voice. Two of her new admirers were coming down the bathroom corridor.

  “Sheesh,” Blondie said, when the door had shut behind us. “I’m not sure what to do. I like one of them, and one of the others is okay, but four at once is just a pain.”

  I shook my head. “Magic. Always a mistake. Are you willing to try something?”

  She shrugged. “Like what? I’m up for a lot, but a sixsome, no thanks.”

  “I was thinking more, what if you handed the pen to another woman?”

  Blondie eyed me. “They all walked away from you when you gave the pen to me.”

  “I didn’t want them. But I’m betting you’ve given off a few ‘maybe’ signals.”

  She smiled. “Oh, I have.”

  “Are you willing to risk it that the one guy you really like will stick with you if you hand off the pen?”

  She made a face. I thought I could see wheels turning in her head. Then she shrugged. “Might as well find out tonight. The icky part is waiting two weeks for him to call back, know what I mean?”

/>   “Hell, yes,” I said.

  Three older women came into the restroom in a bunch at that moment, and I said, “I’d better get back there and see what’s breaking now. Keep me posted?”

  The blonde nodded thoughtful. “Thanks.” She stuck her hand out, and we shook. “Watch the back booth.”

  I escaped to the bar again. I noticed that Blondie’s entourage was still watching the corridor to the bathrooms. A flood of yuppies had filled the bar and now tussled over the karaoke microphone, especially when they saw the big screen array.

  Also conveniently, the second shift bartender, Darryl, had arrived and was putting on his bartending apron.

  “Is Archie going home now?” I asked him. “Or will he be around a little longer?”

  “He’s making up the schedule for next week.”

  “Fabulous.” I turned and headed for the manager’s office.

  Chloe came bouncing into the office as I was at my desk, finishing the next week’s schedule.

  “That is one sweet setup, with the karaoke and the wall o’ monitors,” she said, and I knew where this was going already.

  I kept my eyes on the computer. “Don’t start.”

  She stood by the desk, radiating enthusiasm. “It’s awesome. It could be worth at ton of money in the party equipment market. I know a dozen bar owners who would pay a fortune for one like it.”

  “No.”

  “Poop.”

  I looked up in spite of myself.

  She glowed. Her eyes were bright and her dimples were showing and her pink suit made her look perky and fresh and hot. Then I looked in her eyes and forgot to be wary. Just the fact that she was here in the room made me breathless.

  I was doomed.

  “You’re so talented, Archie. You were born to do this stuff.”

  “Help drunk stockbrokers sing badly, larger than life?”

  “C’mon. You don’t have to slack any more. Are you still trying to prove something to your old man? He’s gone.”

  How did she know that? Dammit, I’d told her hardly anything about my past. I scowled.

  As if she’d read my mind, she said, “Eight brothers, remember? I know the male animal.”

  “Maybe that’s why all the one-night stands,” I said sarcastically.

  Fire flashed in her eyes.

  Good, fight with me, Chloe. Think about how irritating I can be. You don’t need a guy like me.