by Sam Lollar
“Oh, my God,” I muttered. Not only was I having erotic dreams, but they included Scott. And now I had to apologize to him.
*
“So he really hadn’t done anything?”
“No, apparently not, although I sure had vivid recollections of the event. It’s amazing what the mind can conjure up when you’ve been given some good narcotics. Not that you need to find that out, Number Three.”
*
The room was arranged rather nicely. They had emptied the motel room of its normal furniture and brought in a hospital bed. They had even gotten in a color television, one of the few I had ever seen. That color TV really made an impression on me. It was only a year or so before that all three television networks began airing programs in color. I was more excited about that TV than I was about getting out of the hospital.
A private duty nurse helped me with bathing and dressing during the day, making sure I was walking as much I could manage. My friends dropped by when they weren’t in class, since the motel was so near the college campus. Mrs. Schuster and Miss LuLu were in several times a day, while Bob had the good sense to visit only once a day. He’d come in and eat his lunch with me. On the third day in the room, he told me Scott desperately wanted to see me.
“Oh, Bob, I’m too embarrassed. I owe him an apology. What should I say?”
“Not much really. You were under the influence of a lot of painkillers and God knows what all else. It’s not your fault if you were hallucinating a bit.”
“Is that what it was? A hallucination?”
“I think so. As much of a cad as I think Scott is, I don’t believe even he would do something as repulsive as fondling you while you were unconscious.”
“Oh, my. Could you tell him that I’d like to see him?”
Within minutes, Scott knocked on the door. He suggested the private duty nurse go over to the Oriental Blossoms for a snack or cup of tea and handed her a five-dollar bill.
“Aaron, I’ve got to know, what did I do to you that day?”
“Scott, I really owe you an apology. Bob thinks I was hallucinating. All I know is I had a really realistic dream about you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing. I was outraged. But everyone tells me that you were innocent, that you weren’t even there.”
“Yeah, I had just walked in and sat down when you jumped awake and started screaming for the nurse. You even hit me with the water jug. I was soaked from head to foot. If you had had a full urinal, I shudder to think what might have happened.”
“Scott, I can’t tell you how embarrassed and sorry I am. It was just so real. I could see and feel everything. I guess those painkillers are really powerful stuff.”
“So I’m forgiven?”
“What? I’m the one who should ask for forgiveness, not you.”
“You’re forgiven, then,” he said with mock formality. “I just hated the idea of you thinking I was some kind of beast or something. I would never do anything like that.”
“Well, that’s not strictly true,” I said, remembering the night of the kiss.
“You know what I mean, Aaron. To take advantage of someone who is unconscious or groggy from pills is reprehensible. I would never do that.”
“I know. Can we just forget about it, please?”
Almost miraculously, he changed from contrite to vivacious. “I just had to show you the newspapers about the accident. You won’t believe it.”
He handed me the local paper from the day after the accident, and on the front page was a photo of the accident. The headlines blared: Only in Texas, while in smaller print was written: Four-car pileup involved a Lincoln, an Imperial, a Mercedes, and a Cadillac. Looking at the photograph, I could see the Lincoln didn’t survive. Scott told me it had been totaled. The drunk driver in the Imperial was stunned and had to be pried from her car. It, too, was totaled. Scott insisted the Mercedes was all right, just a dented bumper. The Cadillac looked pretty beat up as well. I already knew Mrs. Schuster, Miss LuLu, and Ron and Mimi were unhurt, as they had all visited me in the hospital. Mrs. Schuster had a cut over her right eye, while Miss LuLu had a bruised arm. Ron and Mimi were in the back, actually wearing seat belts, which were not all that common in cars at that time. They were unharmed and had managed to leave for their honeymoon on schedule.
I had asked Bob to go to my apartment and get me some clothes when I first arrived, but Scott had forbidden it. Apparently, he had bought me some new clothes. I was a bit apprehensive when Bob brought them in, but that quickly turned to being dazzled. I was wearing a pair of shorts and a pullover shirt when Scott had arrived. The shirt was certainly more snug fitting than I would have picked, as were the shorts. But they were comfortable, and having a new wardrobe was wonderful.
“You look great in that, Aaron,” Miss LuLu had said on one of her visits when I was wearing a similar outfit. “Scott does have good taste.”
When Scott saw me, he too said how good I looked in the clothes. I immediately began feeling uncomfortable, crossing my arms over my chest and holding my legs as close together as I could manage with the cast still on.
After about four weeks, the whole ordeal was over, and I was pretty much independently mobile. I could take care of myself easily. Mrs. Schuster suggested I just live at the motel rather than keep the apartment. It was tempting, and I did accept for a limited time. Since the motel room was going to be free, I could still pay my roommate half the rent from the money my mom sent me every month, thus keeping my apartment as well. We brought in the regular furniture, and released the hospital bed and private duty nurse. I was rather comfortably settled. My room had a kitchenette and a studio setup, so it was quite nice.
Chapter Twelve
A Couple of Old Red and White Beauties
After I was feeling better, Scott asked me to go with him to select a new motel car. Since Mrs. S had really liked the black Lincoln, they decided to get another one. When we arrived at the car lot, I was feeling pretty awkward, hobbling around in my cast. We had numerous cars to choose from, but one really caught my eye. It had a white vinyl roof over a candy apple red body with a white leather interior and red carpets. I was in love. Scott was looking at a really dull brown one, but I convinced him the red one was the one to get. So he plunked down eight grand cash, and we drove off in the Lincoln.
“Wow, that’s the most money I’ve ever seen at one time before.”
“The insurance check came in the mail yesterday, and I just figured it would be easier to pay cash for the car rather than buy it on installments. Saves a lot on interest charges.”
Scott had been really gracious over the past few weeks, and I was beginning to feel a bit more comfortable with him, although I wasn’t thrilled at wearing some of the clothes he bought. Despite his protestations, I had called Pat and asked her to bring up some of my clothes from home when she next visited me. Scott refused to acknowledge her existence, so he was nowhere to be seen when she came by. She had been introduced to Mrs. Schuster and Miss LuLu before, so she was comfortable hanging around the Rancho.
One afternoon while I was hobbling around, I happened to glance up at our large neon sign and stared in horror at what it said. Apparently a gust of wind had come by and knocked off some of the letters from the marquee. Rather than reading, Try our Oriental Blossoms, a new taste treat, it now read, Try our Oriental B os oms, a new taste treat. I laughed out loud as I limped into the lobby and pointed it out to Bob.
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe the wind could knock out just two letters. I’d better call the sign people and have them come fix it. I wonder if anyone else noticed it.”
A bit later Mrs. S walked into the lobby. Bob asked her if she had noticed anything odd after the big windstorm.
“Why yes, Bob, I did. I was wondering how long it would take for anyone else to notice it. I think we should do something about our Oriental Bosoms, don’t you?” She laughed good-naturedly. “I don’t know why you didn’t notice it the day it happened. Don’t you ever
look the place over?”
“Not carefully enough, I guess. I’ve called the sign people, and they’ll be over tomorrow to change it.”
The next day, the sign people did indeed arrive. Unfortunately they were Mexican workers who spoke almost no English. It was a busy day, so we didn’t pay much attention until they had driven off, when everyone screamed in horror. Rather than Oriental Bosoms, we now had Oriental Bosooms. Apparently, the guys thought we wanted to advertise our bosoms, and they re-spelled it the way they thought was correct. Needless to say, we contacted them immediately.
They couldn’t get back until the next day, however, so we had a night of offering for everyone’s taste treat lovely Oriental Bosooms. A series of photos of the sign even made the front page of the paper—first, as it originally appeared, then with Bosoms, and finally with Bosooms. Mrs. S said any kind of publicity was good publicity. “At least you didn’t have to wreck the car to get our picture in the paper this time, Aaron,” she chided.
I was back to doing my regular chores by this time, so things returned more or less back to normal. I still hobbled in my cast, but people just tipped more when I helped them to their rooms. It had been so peaceful with no one prying into my sexual proclivities that I’m afraid I let my guard down.
Mrs. S and Miss LuLu were always running around together, taking the red and white Lincoln on the road every day. One afternoon while they were out, a ’56 red and white Chevrolet Bel Air drove into the lot. A rather robust woman climbed out and, after rearranging herself, walked into the lobby. She could have given Mrs. Schuster a run for her money in the size department.
“Hi there. Is the manager around?” she asked me in a rather booming voice.
“Yes, I’ll get him for you.” I hobbled over to the business office and rapped on the door. “Bob, there’s a woman to see you.”
“What an exciting prospect,” he said as he opened the door. He was somewhat taken aback when he saw this woman, who stood over six feet tall and easily weighed in at three hundred pounds. Enormous blond hair was curled over her head, and she carried a handbag that could have easily held the entire motel.
“My name’s Bob. I’m the manager, can I help you?”
“Why, yes. I’m Larinda Hunter, and I’ve come in response to your ad for the night clerk position.”
“Of course. Why don’t you come back here in the business office with me? Aaron, could you get us some coffee? Do you take yours with sugar or black?”
“Two sugars, please, and maybe a little donut or something to top it off?”
Bob raised his eyebrows at me and I turned, somewhat surprised at her bald request for food during an interview. “It’s just that I’m on my lunch hour and didn’t have time to eat anything. Believe me, with the cargo I’m hauling around, I need a lot of fuel. Be a dear and see if they have any jelly-filled ones.”
I wandered into the coffee shop and returned to the office with their coffee and her donut. They were both laughing heartily when I entered, and Bob said, “Aaron, you’ve just got to hear this. Go on, Larinda, tell him the story.”
“Oh, I was just telling Bob here that earlier this summer when I was returning from Italy—I go there every summer for two weeks—when I returned this time, the customs people at the New York airport wouldn’t let me in the country. They were sure I was a drag queen. In frustration, I finally flopped my boobs out to prove to them I was indeed female. They were more embarrassed than I was. Oh well, it got the job done. Anyway, Bob, the point I was making is that I’m a take-charge kind of gal, and if you need someone with lots of experience and little need for supervision, then I’m your girl.”
“Larinda, I don’t know what kind of experience you’re referring to, but I’m willing to give you a try. When can you start?”
“How about tonight? I really want to start early because I’m trying to save up enough money to ditch that old Chevy of mine and buy a new Corvette. Can you just see a big old heifer like me in a snazzy piece of machinery like that? The guys won’t know what to look at first.”
We laughed, and she agreed to return at ten thirty that night, got back into her Chevy, and drove off down the road.
“She’s going to be a hoot, I can tell you that. I don’t know how much experience she’s had with bookkeeping, but I just couldn’t resist her.”
“She should be fun,” I agreed.
Scott walked in some time later.
“Oh, I hired a new night clerk,” Bob said. “Her name’s Larinda, I think you’ll like her.”
“I hope she’s better than the last couple dozen we’ve had in the past.”
“Oh, it’s not been that bad,” Bob said. “It just seems that way. Actually, we’ve only had two. They weren’t bad, really. They just kept falling asleep and never got the work finished. If you want to meet her, she’ll be in at ten thirty tonight.”
“Of course I want to meet her. I want to know all my employees.”
At ten thirty precisely, in walked Larinda, her hair completely redone in an equally impressive ’do, wearing slacks and a baggy blouse. Her bosoms were clearly unrestrained. She topped off her look with a large floppy hat and huaraches. “I hope you don’t mind, pet, but I thought I’d get comfortable for this job. These babies haven’t been unholstered since six thirty this morning.”
Scott introduced himself as the owner of the property, and Larinda shook his hand vigorously. “Good to meetcha. I think you’ll be glad ol’ Bob here hired me.”
I was on my way out when she arrived, so I continued to my room, Scott following me. Bob stayed behind to show her her job duties and have her fill out the proper employment forms. It promised to be a long night for both of them.
I was still feeling pretty chipper after interacting with Larinda, so I was unprepared when Scott asked, “Hey, Aaron, you want to go out and get a beer or something?”
Without thinking I agreed and committed myself to an unknown destination. “Where’d you have in mind?” I asked a bit more cautiously.
“Oh, a new club called the Office Bar opened downtown recently. I haven’t been there yet, but hear it’s a lot of fun.”
I had no reason to doubt the innocence of this statement, so I changed out of my bellboy’s clothes and put on some nice jeans (and getting them on over the cast was not easy) and a pullover, and off we went in the Mercedes.
“With your broken leg and all, we haven’t had a chance to discuss your taking the Mercedes, Aaron. I still want you to have it.”
Without a moment’s thought, I said, “Okay, Scott, sign over the title to me in the morning, and I’ll take possession of the car.”
I knew how this worked because I had transferred the title of Mom’s Falcon when she moved to Dallas. He was silent for quite a while, and I thought I had effectively called his bluff, knowing full well that he had no intention of actually giving me the car to keep. Oh, I felt sure he’d let me use it all I wanted, but transferring title was another matter entirely. So I was really not expecting it when he said, “Okay, when does the DMV open up?”
“Uh, eight thirty I think.” Whoops, my bluff had just been called, when I had really not thought of the consequences. Oh, well, I told myself, something will happen before tomorrow comes. He’ll change his mind.
Scott pulled into a parking spot across the street from a hole-in-the-wall dive that had The Office in very small letters written on the door. As we walked into the dimly lit tavern, all heads turned our way. It didn’t take an Einstein to realize I had just been duped. All the patrons were men. Here we go again, I mused. Otto / Regina walked over and bussed the air with Scott. She was in drag again, but this time she had on a black wig and a lace mantilla draped over what looked like a Mexican peasant dress.
“I was feeling so ethnic tonight I decided to embrace my Mexican heritage.”
“What are you talking about?” Scott interrupted. “You’re from Poland. The only Mexican you have in you are those enchiladas you had for lunch, or one of
those boys you took home the other night.”
“Well. You’re wrong, you know. My grandmother was the illegitimate daughter of Maximilian the First. So I am descended from Mexican royalty. So there. Why, Aaron, I’m pleased to see you up and around, and the more ‘up’ the better, as I always say. Still in the cast, eh, poor dear? Scott told me about your wreck. Tsk tsk, what a near tragedy. Oh, Scott, it would have been criminal indeed if we had lost this glorious lad. Come sit, have a beer. Barkeep! Mary! Bring me a couple of beers for my dear sister and her consort.”
*
“Granddad, had you never been in a gay bar before?”
“Never. Remember, back in the sixties there weren’t very many of them. I think there may have been two or three in El Paso then. It wasn’t like it is now, with gay bars in every town.”
*
This was not going well at all, I realized. How to get out of here with some sense of dignity and not fall into the talons of Regina, Illegitimate Princess of Mexico? That was the quandary I faced.
I did begin to notice a large number of attractive men who were in the bar, when it dawned on me that I was underage and no one seemed to care. I was quickly served a beer as though nothing was out of the ordinary. I mentioned this to Scott, and he commented that apparently the bartender thought I looked like I was over twenty-one. I felt flattered. I was also strangely flattered by all the men who migrated our way. I then became very suspicious and terribly confused. Why did I like this? Why wasn’t I with Pat? And worst of all, why didn’t I want to be with Pat instead of in this pit of depravity?
I knew from my mom’s experience running bars that the place could lose its liquor license if the police found out I was underage. Maybe to feel righteous, I decided to stay away from beer, since it made me nauseous anyway, and ordered a Coke.
Before I knew it, I had succumbed and drunk a glass of wine provided by Regina. Scott was nowhere to be seen, and I was suddenly surrounded by three or four guys all vying for my attention. They were all considerably older than I was, and for some reason, they all felt the need to rub my back, or knead my shoulder, run their hands over my chest, or squeeze my thigh, both the leg in the cast and my non-casted leg. It felt wonderful, but I knew it couldn’t continue. So I stood up and said I was leaving. They protested, to both my delight and surprise. “Stay here, sweetie. I’ll buy you another drink.” “Let’s go to my place, and you can have all the drinks you want.” “I know a nice quiet spot we can drive to and get to know each other,” and so on. I was adamant and squeezed past them, spotting Scott sitting with Regina.