“Yes, sir,” the salesman answered. “But since you are a very good client, I would like to invite you and your son to dinner this evening.”
“Jean Pierre is not my son,” Barnett explained. “He is from France on his first visit to the United States. He is a student in my school. His father and I felt that it would be very educational for Jean Pierre to travel to the U.S.”
“I’m sure it is a wonderful adventure.” He held out his hand to Barnett. “I’m Robert Johnson.”
Johnson shook hands with not only Barnett but also with Jean Pierre. Then he turned back to Barnett. “Will dinner at seven-thirty be convenient? I will pick you up in my car at the hotel and we will go to a very good seafood restaurant near the lake.”
“I think that would be perfect,” Barnett said. “Thank you very much.”
Jean Pierre walked alongside the headmaster as they were returning to the small hotel where they were staying. He looked up at Barnett. “That’s a lot of money you paid for all the extras.”
“Johnson said it might be necessary,” Barnett said gruffly. He was already angry with himself that he had agreed so easily with the sales manager.
“In France, my papa and grandfather would have bargained about the price,” Jean Pierre said.
“That’s not American,” Barnett said. “In America value is always more important than the bargain.”
They walked the rest of the way to the hotel in silence.
* * *
Jean Pierre noticed that evening that Barnett took more time than usual dressing for dinner. Robert Johnson was right on time. The restaurant was very pleasant and the sales manager was a very good host. They arrived back at the hotel about ten o’clock.
Barnett suggested to Jean Pierre that he return to his small room located next to the headmaster’s and go to bed since the next day would be a very busy one. Jean Pierre agreed and thanked the sales manager for a very nice evening.
Barnett then offered Johnson a cognac and cigar in the bar of the hotel. Jean Pierre returned to his room and undressed slowly. He finally stretched out on his bed and began reading the pamphlets from the Ford office. After a while he fell asleep.
The room was dark when Jean Pierre awoke. He heard some noises in Barnett’s room. Silently he walked over to the door that separated the two rooms and slowly opened the door and peeked through the crack.
The two men were nude in bed. They were in each other’s arms. They were kissing passionately. Jean Pierre smiled as he saw Johnson bend over and begin to kiss the headmaster’s penis. Jean Pierre quickly put his hand across his mouth and closed the door quietly. He didn’t want them to hear him laughing. It was not an unusual scene for him to see. There had been many times that he had watched his father and Louis enjoying the same exercise. Happily he went back to bed and fell asleep smiling.
10
They spent three more days in Detroit. Barnett said it was because he had to learn more about the automobile and get experience driving before they went out on the road. Jean Pierre said nothing. He thought that he knew better. Barnett was enjoying his affair with the Ford sales manager. The two of them had met for lunch and dinner every day.
Jean Pierre had been patient. He spent more time at the hotel reading and learning about America. He was anxious for the trip to begin to Mr. Barnett’s home. Mr. Johnson had already routed their trip home, to save time.
He told them to take a lake ship that would take them to Erie, New York. That would save them almost a week on the way home. The roads would be better traveling through New York to the Maine coast and then from Boston to Cape Cod.
Jean Pierre was fascinated as they traveled. The United States was a very different country from France. Each state was like its own separate country with different customs and almost a different language. But each one was American. About fifty percent of the roads were asphalt or concrete and the rest were hard packed-down dirt.
There were not many hotels along the way so they spent many of the nights on the road at boardinghouses. Since most people thought that they were father and son they were given only a single room. At first Barnett seemed to be embarrassed at their arrangement, but when he saw that Jean Pierre was not concerned about it, he began to relax.
It took them almost three weeks to reach their destination. They went through Boston, which was a large city, and then drove south to Cape Cod. The headmaster’s family had a summer home in a small village on the coast called Hyannisport. It was a very popular seaside town for the very wealthy from Boston. Jean Pierre also learned that most of the families were Irish Americans who seemed to control the local politics in Boston. He also discovered that the Barnetts were a very Irish family.
After Elisha and Jean Pierre left Detroit, Elisha acted very interested in Jean Pierre, and it was not long until Jean Pierre satisfied Elisha. Under the older man’s instruction, Jean Pierre learned even more about his sexuality. He learned how to please and how to be pleased. He and Elisha agreed on everything except sodomy. Elisha explained to Jean Pierre that his anus was too small to allow the headmaster’s large penis inside him. Jean Pierre enjoyed their intimate times together. He felt very grown-up. But when they arrived at the Barnetts’ home everything changed.
Jean Pierre had his own private room on the third floor of the house. Next to him were the rooms of Elisha’s younger sisters. There were three sisters, and Elisha was the only son. Elisha was thirty-one years old and the son from Mr. Barnett’s first wife, who died a year after Elisha was born.
Mr. Barnett did not marry again until ten years later. Elisha was eleven years old. Then came the girls. Elisha’s sisters seemed to be born every two years. By the time Elisha was twenty and at Harvard University the girls were five, seven, and nine years old. All of the girls were older than Jean Pierre and very curious about him.
There was only one bathroom on the third floor and Jean Pierre was always the last in line. While they were in the hallway the girls would speak to him in French and he would answer them in English. The girls were very friendly to him; still, they felt that he was much younger than they were, even though he was eleven years old.
They would pack a lunch each morning and spend the day at the beach. Jean Pierre loved the ocean. It was something he had never seen living in Paris. The beach and the sun were heaven for him. In a few weeks he was very darkly tanned. He had the habit of turning down the top of his bathing suit so that his chest would also become dark. When Elisha saw him like that in front of the girls, he made him put the top back up.
Elisha’s room was on the second floor below the girls’ and Jean Pierre’s. It was also a very large room with its own private bathroom. The master bedroom belonging to Elisha’s father took over three-quarters of the second floor. The parlor, the dining room, the kitchen, and two small servants’ rooms were on the ground floor.
After a while, Jean Pierre began to miss Elisha. Elisha had many friends and since he had his own automobile he would usually go out in the evening. There were times when Jean Pierre would be around when one or another of Elisha’s friends was there, but Elisha always treated him as a child. He wondered if Elisha enjoyed himself with his friends as he had done with him.
Unfortunately, most of the young boys he met on the beach were always playing American games, football, baseball, and they seemed to take no interest in teaching him their games.
Jean Pierre wrote to his father each week. He told his father about the way the Americans lived. He also was very proud to tell him that he was speaking English like the Americans, using slang as well! He would also write to him about the information in the American newspapers and he was depressed by what they said about the Germans seeming to conquer all of Europe. He also explained that the Barnetts were an Irish family and they were always pleased when there was a story about the Germans winning a battle against the English. He didn’t think that they had any animosity against the French.
Jean Pierre learned a great deal about the girls s
ince their voices easily carried into his room from the rooms next door. He knew that Rosemary, the oldest, had a boyfriend. In France he would be called a fiancé. Rosemary and the boy would go to the movies twice a week, he would meet her on the beach in the afternoons, and they had dinner with his family on Sunday.
Maureen, the middle sister, was what they called in English a tomboy. She always played the boys’ games, baseball and football. And she would wrestle with any one of them on the sand at the beach, and would challenge them to a swimming race on the surf.
The youngest, Kathleen, was just fifteen, and everyone called her Kate. She was the most beautiful of the three girls and was already well developed. She was tall, almost as tall as her oldest sister, and her face looked older than her years. She was a quiet girl; she would read a book while they were on the beach. She would spend time alone in the ocean and then she would come and sit down next to Jean Pierre and speak French with him.
Jean Pierre would speak French back to her, even though he knew her accent was not that good. But he was very grateful for her company because the younger American boys did not want to be bothered with him. She would ask him about his life in France and how it was different from America. She also told him that he was more grownup than the boys her age. He was also taller, and when she first met him she thought he was at least fifteen years old. She was curious about her brother bringing him to Cape Cod for the summer. She said that her brother was strange and usually spent all of his time with older men.
He said nothing about Elisha to her. Quickly, he learned that she knew very little about her brother’s life, only that he was a teacher and was a very brilliant scholar at the university. But she thought he was very selfish and had never even offered to take them for a ride in his new automobile.
One evening at dinner Jean Pierre, with courage in his voice, spoke in French to Elisha. He felt more comfortable for some reason in his own language tonight.
“After dinner it might be pleasant if we could all drive into town in your car. Maybe we could even have an ice-cream soda. I’ll treat. My father sent me some money.”
“How do you know that I don’t have another appointment?” Elisha said, annoyed.
“We wouldn’t be very long,” Jean Pierre pleaded. “The girls are excited about your new car.”
Mr. Barnett looked at his son. “I think it would be a nice thing for you to do and I’ll pay for the ice cream.”
Elisha had no way out of it. After dinner, at seven o’clock, they all climbed into the car. Elisha growled at Jean Pierre: “It’s your idea, you crank it.”
Jean Pierre was silent. He stood in front of the Ford and set the crank into the operating hole. He held up one hand so that Elisha could know when it was ready. Elisha nodded. Jean Pierre turned the crank. Nothing happened. Instead the crank snapped backward, slamming at the back of Jean Pierre’s right hand. He looked up and knew that Elisha had done it deliberately. But he said nothing and held the crank again. This time Elisha turned on the ignition and the motor started humming. Jean Pierre returned the crank to its place and climbed up in the seat next to Elisha. He placed his hands on the back of the seat and turned to the girls as the automobile began to move. “What do you think about it?”
“It’s wonderful,” the girls squealed almost in unison.
But Kate had seen the back of his hand. “What happened? The back of your hand is black and blue.”
“It’s nothing,” Elisha called back to his sister. “Things like that always happen when you crank an automobile.”
Jean Pierre laughed. “Pas de probleme,” he said.
It took only fifteen minutes until Elisha parked the car in front of Giovanni’s Italian Ice Cream Parlor. The store was very attractive. It was paneled in mahogany and all the tables and chairs were in white imitation leather. They sat down at one of the large tables, Jean Pierre next to Elisha. Giovanni, the friendly store owner, came over and stood next to the table. “I have-a made a fresh-a strawberry ice cream today and I make-a sundae with strawberry syrup, topped with-a whipped cream.”
They all ordered Giovanni’s strawberry treat except Elisha. He ordered a new soda that had just been shipped in from the South, Coca-Cola. Giovanni opened the small, icy bottle and put a straw inside. Elisha sipped it and smiled while the others waited for their sundaes. “This is really good. It seems to give you a lift when you are tired.” He seems to be in a better mood, Jean Pierre thought.
The girls didn’t answer. All they wanted to talk about was Elisha’s automobile. They thought it was wonderful. Elisha smiled with all the compliments and then he turned and saw a friend of his standing outside of the ice-cream parlor. Elisha excused himself and walked outside to his friend.
Rosemary looked at Jean Pierre. “I don’t know why my brother even bothers with that silly man. My friends say that he is nothing but a sissy.”
Jean Pierre looked back at her. “What exactly is a sissy? We don’t have this word in French.”
Rosemary answered him. “A sissy is a boy who acts like a girl. He doesn’t play any of the games that boys play and also he never goes out with girls.”
Jean Pierre nodded to her. He knew more about that boy than they knew about their brother. The sundaes finally arrived. They were large and delicious. Jean Pierre thought that American ice cream was better than French ice cream. The American ice cream was made with real cream and milk. With each sundae a glass of water was served. Carbonated water. Jean Pierre looked at Maureen. “I didn’t know there were sparkling water springs here.”
Maureen laughed. “There are no springs on Cape Cod. It’s only ocean. All salt water.”
“Then where do they get sparkling water?” he asked.
Giovanni overheard his question. “We have tanks. Compressed air comes out of tubes and goes into the water and it comes out here.” He turned and pulled the spigot forward and the bubbling water flowed out.
Jean Pierre smiled. “Thank you,” he replied. He took a deep breath—the Americans were so smart.
Elisha came back into the ice-cream parlor. He turned and looked at Rosemary. “Jonathan has just invited me to a friend’s birthday party and I said I would join him. I’ll leave you enough money to take a horse carriage back home.”
“Father will ask us why you left us alone and didn’t make sure we were home safely,” Rosemary said angrily.
“Tell Father that I have to meet the professor that is sponsoring me for an associate professor job at Harvard this fall,” he answered, ignoring her anger. “And you know how important that is to me.”
They were all silent as Elisha went outside and walked off with his friend to the automobile. Jean Pierre turned to Rosemary, his face flushed. “Is it true that he will go to Harvard this fall, not to St. Xavier?”
Rosemary shook her head. “I don’t know. Nobody ever knows what Elisha is doing.”
11
Kate kept her eyes on Jean Pierre as they rode home in the carriage. It was near ten o’clock when they climbed up the steps to the porch. Jean Pierre looked at the girls. “I’m going to sit outside awhile. I’m really not sleepy.”
The two older girls went inside. Kate turned to him. “Do you mind if I stay with you?”
Jean Pierre nodded. “That would be nice.”
She sat down on a chair opposite Jean Pierre. For a while they didn’t speak. “You’re not happy?” she quietly asked him.
“I’m okay,” he answered.
“Are you upset because Elisha may not go back to your school with you?” she asked.
“I don’t understand it,” he replied. “Why did he invite me to come down here with him, if he knew that he might not be returning?”
Kate looked at him. “Do you love my brother?” she asked.
He stared back at her. “That’s a stupid question.”
“It’s not the only time my brother has brought a boy home to spend the summer with him. And then after the season Elisha sent the boy off to his own home.
” She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re not like the other boys were. They were all fresh and common.”
“He never told me that he ever brought anybody else home with him,” he said.
“I knew that you were different from the rest. You never went downstairs in the middle of the night to his room,” she said, still holding Jean Pierre’s hand. “Sometimes I think that Elisha is a sissy like many of his friends. But I just can’t believe that about him.” She paused. “After all, he is my older brother.”
Jean Pierre looked into her eyes. He could see a faint touch of her tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. “Not your brother,” he said. “Elisha is not a sissy. He’s a very kind man and a very good teacher.”
She took her hand away. “Are you still going back to St. Xavier in the fall?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have to write to my father. I would like to go home to France. I don’t like the school that much. I don’t have many friends there.”
“I could talk to my father,” Kate said. “My father likes you and he could get you into a very good school in Boston. You could live with us and you could help all of us with our French lessons.”
This time it was he who took her hand. “Kate,” he said, “I’m only eleven and I still have to do what my papa tells me.”
She looked down at their hands and then up at him. “I guess it’s time to go to bed. It’s already after ten. My father likes us to be in bed by now.”
“You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll stay down here for a while. I’m not sleepy.”
“Are you going to wait up for Elisha?” she asked. “Maybe he’ll let you know what he’s doing. I haven’t heard anything for sure about him moving to Harvard.”
“Then why did you all think that he was going?” Jean Pierre asked.
“I think Maureen overheard our father talking about it. But nobody will know for sure until Elisha tells us,” she answered.
The Predators Page 10