Walking to the restaurant, Budi hugged Greg. “With a two bedroom suite, we can have fun and still keep an eye on Rial.”
“An elegant solution,” Greg complimented Budi. “And you saved me twenty dollars a night on the room.”
Budi frowned. “You only love me cuz I save you money?”
“Not at all,” Greg insisted, “but high school teachers don’t earn a fortune, so my future mate has to be able to manage money very well.”
“No problem,” Budi grinned. “I can cook, clean, cut hair, iron, sew, fix appliances, do household repairs, and the only entertainment you’ll ever want or need will be sleeping with me.”
“Amazing you’re still single!” Greg teased, patting Budi’s butt.
During the meal, Budi and Rial peppered Greg with questions about California. They wanted to know how much everything cost, salaries for different jobs, what it was like to attend a sporting event in a huge stadium, who Greg’s friends were, and more. Their questions amused and amazed Greg.
Toying with a slice of bread, Greg asked, “Do most of your friends want to live in the States?”
“Yes!” Budi and Rial cried together.
“That puzzles me because I read most Indonesians don’t like America.”
“We don’t like the American government,” Budi corrected Greg. “We like Americans and all the cool things you have. More than anything, we want the freedom you have to be anything you want and go anywhere you like. We love your movies, clothes, music, cars, and homes, but it’s the freedom we want most.”
“I understand,” Greg nodded. “I just hope you don’t think America is perfect. It’s getting better, but there’s still prejudice. I don’t want you to be too shocked when you discover some Americans might not be thrilled to see another Asian or Muslim.”
“Maybe so,” Budi shrugged as he hoisted the last fork of Nasi Goreng into his mouth, “but my country is worse. Give me a choice to live in the States or Indonesia, and I’ll take the States!”
Rial nodded vigorously. “Maybe difficult at the first time, but still better. New language, new law, new people, new money. Much to learn!”
When the waiter brought the dinner check, he suggested an after dinner poolside massage in a private tent. Greg expressed interest, and invited Budi and Rial to join him.
“It’s not a massage like you’re used to,” Budi warned. “These guys provide a little extra, which is why they have private tents.”
Greg stared at Budi in disbelief. “Right here? And the hotel allows this?”
“Most hotels have a don’t-ask-don’t-wanna-know policy. Each massage has two possible endings; happy or regular. The happy ending requires a bigger tip.”
Rial nodded, indicating Budi was not joking.
Greg frowned. He had never paid for sex, and didn’t plan to start, even if it was tolerated on Bali. “I’ll skip the massage.”
“Save your money,” Budi encouraged him. “I’ll give you the world’s best massage when you’re ready for bed, with an even happier ending! See what a great mate I am?”
“Your resume grows more impressive by the hour,” Greg winked at Budi. Turning to Rial, a new concern arose. “If you don’t show up for work tonight, will someone go looking for you?”
Rial shook his head. “This my holiday. Middle week not so busy. Yanto no care I not there. Other boy more better with computer.”
“Good,” Greg muttered, amazed Rial grasped his place in the pecking order so clearly. “I thought the Net café where you usually work might be nearby. We don’t want to risk you being seen by guys you work with.”
“Yanto move often. Never use same Net cafe more than few night. Many Net café on Bali. Yanto far from here tonight.”
Chapter 10
After dinner they went to the hotel’s main floor disco. A popular local female vocalist entertained several hundred fans. When she finished, Greg told Budi, “She has a great voice. She could be world famous someday.”
There were so many things Budi wanted to say, but knew he shouldn’t. He knew she was a superb singer. Every Indonesian at Kuta Sands knew she was a superb singer. He knew she would never be known outside her native country because she didn’t speak English like a native speaker, and only those who could speak and sing English like native speakers became famous outside their own country.
When she left the stage, a local group began playing hits from the eighties. The dance crowd was a mixture of straights and gays, tourists and natives. No one seemed to care when Rial and Budi danced together. Suddenly tired, Greg decided to call it a night. When he located Budi and Rial, he shouted above the music, “Kinda sleepy. Going to my room. Breakfast at eight tomorrow, okay?”
“We’ll go back to the room with you,” Budi insisted, grabbing Rial’s hand. On the way to the elevator, Greg wondered what kind of man he would be if he had experienced their tragedies and humiliations. Would he be bitter and resentful? Perhaps a criminal? Maybe suicidal? Would he take it all in stride and be much the same man he was?
As Greg prepared for bed, Budi reminded him of the massage he promised at dinner. “C’mon, Greg. Strip and lay on the bed, face down.”
Greg hesitated. “Promise I’m not being setup for some native ritual sacrifice?”
“Naw, all the local gods require a virgin for sacrifice and you’re no virgin,” Budi laughed.
“Where’s Rial?”
“In his bedroom playing games on my laptop and eating ice cream. Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere. He’s happier right now than he’s been in the past ten years! And I’m hornier than I’ve been in the past five years,” Budi insisted as he pulled Greg’s clothes off, “so strip and get face down.”
“What if he gets scared while he’s alone and runs off with your laptop?” Greg worried.
“Impossible,” Budi whispered as he began kissing Greg’s neck and back. “I locked the door to the suite from the inside so he can’t get out without a key, and I’ve got both keys.”
Greg turned and kissed Budi. “You’re quite devious. Sure I can trust you?”
“Soon, you’ll have no choice,” Budi smiled. “You’ll be under my spell, and as my sex slave you will obey all my commands.”
Caressing Budi’s smooth, warm body, Greg whispered, “Last night was about the best night of my life. I really think you could make me your sex slave if you wanted to.”
“Does it bother you that for a brief period in my life I was paid to have sex, Greg?”
“Not really,” Greg assured Budi as they massaged each other. “That’s not who you are today. You were young and broke and did what was necessary to survive. I don’t think you hurt any of the men you were with. You didn’t give them any diseases or steal from them, so I don’t consider what you did wrong. I’m just glad you’re not doing it any more so I can have you all to myself!”
“Then you’re different from most bules,” Budi assured him. “Sooner or later they all let me know they’d never marry anyone who had sex for money. They’ll sleep with me, but they’d never let me meet their friends and family.”
Greg considered Budi’s dilemma for a moment. “I can’t think of anyone I’d be afraid to introduce you to. Uncle Ted wouldn’t care about your past, and I don’t know anyone else whose opinion really matters that much.”
“You think we might actually have a future together?” Budi asked hopefully.
“We’ve only known each other two days,” Greg reminded Budi. “I can’t promise we’ll spend the rest of our lives together yet. I’m very fond of you and like you more every hour we spend together. You’re definitely the kind of man I’m looking for, Budi.”
“Good enough for now,” Budi smiled, then kissed Greg. “Roll over and let me work on the other side.” As Budi massaged Greg’s thighs, he admired the firm, hairy white flesh. “You work out daily?” Budi asked.
“I try to do something every day, but I’m not a fanatic,” Greg admitted. “I lift weights, bike, jog, play volleyb
all, and swim pretty often.”
“With your roommate, Jaya?” Budi asked, pressing his thumbs deep into Greg’s loins.
“Ahhhh!” Greg groaned. “Will it hurt like that each time you mention Jaya?”
“Sorry,” Budi apologized. “I’m just wondering how I compare to him.”
“Difficult to compare. I’ve known Jaya almost five years and consider him my closest friend. You’re both very attractive and funny and smart. Jaya has more formal education, but you know more about surviving in the real world. Your English is better, and sex with you is much, much better.”
Budi thanked Greg, then bent down to kiss him.
“On the other hand,” Greg continued, “Jaya and I have many interests and friends in common. We like the same books, and movies, and music.”
“In time, we’ll develop many similar interests and friends,” Budi offered, hoping not to appear too desperate.
“You’re absolutely right,” Greg agreed. “You seem very open to new experiences. Jaya isn’t very flexible. In fact, he’s kind of moody and secretive. I was a little hurt when he wouldn’t come with me to Bali.”
“Moody, secretive, inflexible, not good in sex…….time to dump him,” Budi giggled.
“I know you’re teasing,” Greg smiled. “No matter what happens, Jaya will always be my friend, unless he does something really awful to hurt me. I can’t imagine Jaya ever doing anything like that. If nothing else, he’s a very loyal friend.”
“Is Jaya my only competition?” Budi asked, working on Greg’s shoulders and back.
“Just Jaya and the fifty napkins I collected at Patar, Rainbow, and Last Call the other night,” Greg chuckled.
“You got fifty napkins with phone numbers in one night?” Budi cried. “That may be a new Bali record! I’m very impressed.”
Greg laughed, surprised Budi wasn’t jealous.
“Those fifty napkins mean you’re a prize, Greg. Since I’m the one in bed with you tonight, it’s those fifty guys who should be jealous.”
At eight the next morning, Budi tickled Greg’s nose with a feather. “This is your wake up call, my handsome bule.”
“Eight already?” Greg yawned. “How long have you been awake, Budi?”
“About an hour. I read the paper and made coffee so you can have a cup before your shower. I’m starved and ready for the delicious hotel breakfast buffet.”
“Maybe you should go ahead and start breakfast without me,” Greg suggested. “It’ll take me a half hour to shower, shave, and dress.”
“I’ll help,” Budi offered softly. “I can make sure your private places are very clean!”
Greg chuckled. “A sex maniac, even this early in the day?”
“It’s one of the things you’ll come to love about me,” Budi promised Greg. “I’m always ready when you are.”
Rolling over to face Budi, Greg admitted he enjoyed seeing the smiling, eager face. While Greg hustled through his morning routine, Budi took Rial shopping at the hotel clothing store. Budi returned wearing a shiny silver silk shirt open to the navel, tight black Lycra shorts, and black running shoes. Rial was similarly dressed in white and green.
“You guys look good enough to play in the World Cup,” Greg complimented them.
“Kuta Sands has a sporty clothing store and we charged it all to the room,” Budi informed Greg.
“You’d better be joking,” Greg scowled.
“Budi pay,” Rial confessed. “He say we must look good. Not embarrass Greg when meet uncle.”
Greg bowed his head, grinning. “Very thoughtful, Budi. I appreciate the gesture. So, you guys ready for breakfast?”
As they headed for the Kuta Sands breakfast buffet, Budi asked Greg, “You really think we look great? Like football players, and not like moneyboys?”
“You look outstanding. Of course, I have no taste, so what do I know?”
“Excellent point,” Budi mumbled.”
“Started to watch a Barong Dance on TV while I was waiting for you, but I couldn’t follow the story. There seemed to be frequent role and gender changes. Nobody was who they first appeared to be. Many things went unspoken. Very convoluted!”
“You followed it perfectly!” Budi snickered. “Many people say the Barong Dance is a metaphor for Indonesian life. It represents the struggle of good versus evil, but there are many sub-themes. You nailed it, Greg!”
“Once we find my uncle, I’d like to see more of the native culture, Budi. Take some trips to see how people live away from the tourist areas.”
“I know exactly where to take you. There’s a village where people bathe in the river, grow their own food, and make exotic fabrics for export. I buy flowers from the farmers there.”
“Sounds perfect. Is there a Kuta Sands Hotel nearby?”
“Ha! We’ll be sleeping on blankets under the stars, Greg!”
The buffet was an appetizing array of sweets, meats, fruits, and pastries. Each of them filled their large platters twice, and gulped down several glasses of juice, plus a couple cups of hot coffee since the restaurant was air-conditioned.
“What kind of pancakes are these?” Greg asked. “They’re delicious! Never tasted anything like them.”
“Dadar,” Rial answered between bites. “Coconut pancake.”
“And the omelet is superb! It’s so rich and creamy,” Greg raved. “I bet it’s loaded with cholesterol.”
Budi shook his head. “Very healthy. It’s made from tofu, not eggs. Cashews, peanut sauce, rice flower. Lots of protein, but no fat.”
“No wonder Indonesians are so thin!” Greg remarked. “I had a tofu dish in San Diego and it was awful. I had no idea tofu could taste this good, and be healthy, too.”
Budi smiled cynically. “Yeah, it’s amazing what a healthy diet and widespread poverty will do for the national waistline.”
Greg winced slightly. He had not meant to compare Indonesia and the U.S. economically. Rather than apologize, he ignored Budi’s wisecrack. Greg surveyed the collection of empty plates, cups, and glasses on the table. “Guess we don’t need to eat again for a few days,” he groaned.
Rial patted his tummy. “I very filled. Thank you for so nice meal, Greg.”
“Another couple hundred meals like that and you’ll be as fat as an American!” Greg promised.
Budi’s phone chirped. There was a quick exchange in Bahasa. “My waiter friend with the Kijang is downstairs. I’ll go exchange keys with him and be right back.”
“Thank him for me!” Greg hollered after Budi. “This really helps us.”
Budi nodded as he jogged off to make the exchange. Watching him hustle through the hotel restaurant, Greg wondered what his San Diego friends would think of his handsome, muscular, energetic, and resourceful new brownskin boyfriend. They welcomed Jaya, warming to him slowly. It helped that Jaya had a graduate degree from an American university, and worked for a Fortune 500 company. They’d probably be less receptive to a former hustler who owned a couple hair salons in a developing country, no matter how cute and resourceful he was. Budi was understandably worried, but Greg decided he didn’t care what his friends thought of Budi. All that mattered was how he and Budi felt about each other.
Returning ten minutes later, Budi was anxious to get underway. “First stop, the travel agency. Next stop....well, you’ll tell us when you get the visa, right, Rial?”
Rial nodded obligingly.
As they walked through a glass corridor connecting the restaurant and hotel, they had a striking view of Kuta Beach, the best stretch to surf on Bali since the waves broke over sand instead of coral. They stood above the main entrance to Kuta Sands, looking down onto a long circular driveway. A motorbike sped out of the parking ramp and onto the circular drive, heading for the beach.
Budi shouted excitedly, “There’s my bike! Be careful Edi! Don’t get any scratches on my baby!”
The motorbike gained speed as Edi shifted into second gear. As the motorbike roared toward the ocean, an expl
osion ripped bike and rider apart, followed by a giant fireball. Pieces of twisted metal and shriveled plastic pelted the glass corridor, forcing Greg, Budi, and Rial to jump back. Stunned, they watched debris rain down on sunbathers at the hotel pool.
First to recover, Budi whispered, “Last time I loan my bike to Edi.”
“We’ve got to move fast,” Greg commanded as he pushed Budi toward the stairs, and grabbed Rial’s arm. “This area will be flooded with emergency vehicles and gawkers in a few minutes. We don’t want to get stuck here!”
Budi led them down several flights of stairs to an underground garage. At the far end of the garage was a door marked Employees Only. Budi unlocked the door with the waiter’s key and led them through a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel, he unlocked another door and they stepped outside to the employee parking lot.
Trembling slightly, Budi dropped the key. Scooping it up quickly, he hoped Greg hadn’t noticed his shaking. “The only way out is an alley. It’ll take us about three blocks from the hotel,” Budi told them as they approached the olive green Kijang.
Inside the Kijang, Greg focused on the explosion. “A Toyota and a Mercedes followed us to the hotel and watched all night. I don’t think that explosion was an accident. Someone sabotaged your motorbike, Budi, but who were they after? You? Rial? Me?”
“I don’t know, but I’m damn glad it wasn’t me riding it!” Budi shuddered, unable to control his trembling. “I feel awful about Edi. He never knew what hit him! I’m sick about this.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Greg assured Budi softly. Realizing how unsettling it must be to see a friend blown to bits, Greg weighed their options. Rial didn’t know how to drive and Greg had never driven a vehicle from the right side, plus he wasn’t licensed or insured to drive outside the States. They could take a taxi, but they’d probably need to walk several blocks from the hotel to find one. Even though they wanted to put some distance between themselves and the hotel, allowing Budi to regain his composure would be time well spent.
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