by Noah Harris
“I was so worried about you,” he said, giving him a lingering kiss. Then he hugged him again. He felt like he wanted to hug him forever, just keep on hugging and hugging him until this entire evil world went away.
“Ain’t no thang, Country. Just a hot night in the hood. You looking a bit worse for wear, though.”
“You can’t even imagine. But we can’t stay here. They’ll be coming for us.”
“South Bronx is no place to hide from danger, so maybe we can find some other place?”
“I’ll call Adam and Steve. They don’t live too far away, and they already know about all this.”
They walked into the living room. Georgios stared at them.
“Ah, a nigger! You got big dick. Hump me with that chocolate bar, black man!”
Tyrone stopped and frowned. “What the fuck?”
Richard blushed.
“Sorry, this is Georgios, the other sacrifice. He’s tripping.”
“A cracker tripping is just the same as a cracker sober. You need to keep better company, Country.”
Georgios splayed his legs. “Come here, black man. Give me jungle love!”
“It’s not like I had a choice,” Richard objected.
Georgios staggered to his feet, fumbling with his jeans. He managed to get them down to his knees and then fell flat on his face.
Richard sighed. “Help me get him up.”
They lifted Georgios by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet. The Greek stared wide-eyed at Tyrone for a second and then pushed his fingers into his Afro.
“Wow. I never touch black hair before.”
“And you’ll never touch it again unless you want me to break your fingers, honkey.”
They dumped him on the couch.
“Your hair is soft. Is it true niggers use monkey blood to make it soft?”
Tyrone glared at Richard. “Shut him up before I do.”
Richard shrugged. “He’s tripping.”
“I’ll trip him right out the window in a minute.”
Georgios was taking off his clothes again.
“You both fuck me. The big black dick first.”
“That’s just a stereotype,” Richard told him, giving Tyrone a sly look.
“Hey, some stereotypes are true!” Tyrone objected.
“Let me see,” Georgios said, reaching for Tyrone’s fly.
As his boyfriend tried to extricate himself, Richard went over to the phone and called Adam and Steve. He was relieved to find that they were alright. They had hidden inside the whole time. Briefly he explained what had happened and asked if they could hide out at their place.
“Come on over, Richard,” Steve cooed. “Your hot little body is always welcome here. And bring that delicious sounding Greek fellow along too. You know how much I like those Mediterranean types.”
“All right. Thanks,” Richard said and hung up.
When he turned back to the others, he found Georgios sucking on Tyrone’s dick.
His boyfriend raised his hands in the air. “Sorry, Country, but it was the only way to shut him up.”
“Well keep him shut up while I pack.”
Richard grabbed a couple of changes of clothes and the baseball bat that he had stolen from Cliff’s basement. With his shotgun gone, he needed something else to keep himself safe. Who knew if the power would stay on or not?
By the time he made it back to the living room, Tyrone was arching his back in ecstasy, his eyes half closed, teeth showing through a languid smile.
“Hot damn, Country, this little Greek racist is a natural at sucking cock.”
“Glad to hear it, are you done?” Richard asked.
“Almost, oh…ah!”
Tyrone shuddered, his ass clenching as his cock spurted cum into the Greek’s eager mouth. To Richard’s surprise, Georgios gobbled it all down. A moment later, he fell back on the couch.
“Oh man, a big drink of nigger sperm. Will I fart out a black baby?”
“At least I managed to shut him up for a little while,” Tyrone said with a sigh as he pulled up his pants. “What are we gonna do with him, Country?”
“We have to take him along. If we leave him here the cult will get him.”
“The Devil worshippers can do nothing to me! You pop my cherry and now the Devil no want me anymore.”
Tyrone cocked an eyebrow and looked at his boyfriend. “Oh really?”
“It seemed the safest thing to do,” Richard explained.
Tyrone shook his head. “Damn, you get captured by a bloodthirsty cult and you still riding ass? You got to be the horniest motherfucker I have ever met.”
“I guess I am. But we can’t leave him here. If the cult finds out he’s no longer a virgin they might kill him just to keep him quiet.”
Georgios sat up straight, his eyes as round as circles.
“Kill me?” he squeaked.
“Yeah, we need to get out of here,” Richard said.
“Kill me?” Georgios repeated, trembling all over. “I no want to die!”
“Aw shit, bad trip,” Tyrone muttered.
The Greek man’s glassy eyes darted this way and that. He flinched, then ducked as if something was trying to hit him.
“They’re all around me! Get them off me!”
“Whoa, relax. Nothing is going to hurt you. You’re in a safe place,” Richard said in as soothing a voice as he could muster.
“You think he might really be seeing something?” Tyrone whispered.
“No,” Richard whispered back. “I’d be seeing it too.”
“Ah!” Georgios shouted, jumping to the back of the couch. He scrambled to the side, crawling on the top of the couch and staring at something. He ducked again, and moved back towards the open window.
“Easy there, cracker!” Tyrone said, grabbing him. Richard hurried over and shut the window quickly.
Georgios grabbed Tyrone by the shoulders. “Save me! Do some of that voodoo magic and make the demons go away!”
“I’m from the Bronx, not New Orleans, you dumbass motherfucker.”
“Save me!”
“Just do something, Tyrone. We need to calm him down and get the hell out of here.”
Tyrone cursed under his breath and pulled out his keys. He jangled them in front of Georgios eyes. The metal glinted in the sunlight streaming through the window.
“These are my magic keys,” Tyrone intoned. “Handed down from father to son for ten generations of voodoo.”
Georgios stared at them, entranced.
“With them I will lock up the demons,” Tyrone went on. He turned to face the room, did a little dance, and swiped at the air a few times with the keys. Georgios stared at him and muttered something in Greek.
“Away demons! Away!” Tyrone shouted. Then he made a motion with his hand, as if he were slamming a door shut. He even made a sound effect with his mouth. Richard was impressed. He felt tempted to applaud but he didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere.
Tyrone turned to Georgios, wiping his brow. “Whew! The demons are tough today, but the magic keys get them every time.”
Georgios threw himself at Tyrone’s feet. “Thank you, black man! Let me suck your dick again.”
He started fumbling at Tyrone’s belt.
“Not right now, sucka. You just had me five minutes ago.”
Richard picked Georgios off the floor and they made their way down to the street.
Outside the city looked terrible. The heat wave continued unabated, and already the morning sun ground down on the people walking sullenly along. It was a few blocks to Adam and Steve’s house, and the way was strewn with papers, broken glass, and empty boxes looted of their contents. Every block had at least one store where the metal shutters had been broken open with hammers and crowbars. The insides of these shops were a gutted mess, everything of any value had been taken away. They were businesses of all kinds—liquor stores, groceries, record shops and pawn shops. Several stores had been torched, along with several cars. While the fires had all been
put out, the haze of the smoke still hung in the air mingling with the exhaust from the traffic.
“Shit, Country, the whole city is the Bronx now,” Tyrone whispered.
By the time they reached their friends house, they were soaked in sweat and their eyes stung from the polluted air.
Steve opened the door. Scrawny and petite, he was too effeminate for Richard’s taste but the guy had done more than anyone, except for Tyrone, in taking him under his wing and introducing him to the city’s gay community. Right now he was wearing pink stretch pants and a matching shirt with ruffles down the front and around the cuffs.
“Hey boys,” Steve cooed, “Who’s your cute friend?”
Georgios looked up from the floor. He was hanging between Tyrone and Richard; they had to carry him the last city block.
“Oh, a girl man. Go away girl man. I like black cock.”
“Don’t we all, honey,” Steve said, looking him up and down.
“Don’t look at me, girl man. I am real man! I am not the gay like you.”
“You boys really need to get better taste in men,” Steve said, shaking a finger at them.
“Sorry, he’s tripping.”
“Of course he is, he’s with you. Come on in. Hey Adam, look what the cat dragged in!”
As they passed through the entrance hall, where Georgios nearly knocked over a side table holding a display of roses, Adam appeared.
Steve’s husband couldn’t be more different. He had the solid body of a construction worker, which he was. In contrast to Steve’s pale skin, Adam was swarthy, with dark eyes and a thick moustache.
He was also a tremendous lover. Like Richard and Tyrone, Adam and Steve had an open relationship and Richard had fooled around with Adam on several occasions, including the first time he met them, when Richard had dared to go into his first gay bar. Richard had never done anything with Steve. In a strange way, however, that made their friendship even closer. Steve was actually one of the few men in the scene Richard had never done anything with.
At least he didn’t think so. Some of those nights were a bit of a blur.
Perhaps too many of them have been blurs, he thought. A blurry night is what caused all this trouble in the first place.
They passed into a living room tastefully decorated with reproduction Impressionist paintings and several bouquets of flowers. Dumping Georgios on a chaise lounge, Richard and Tyrone sank into separate armchairs. The apartment felt blessedly cool. A window unit air conditioner purred in the background.
“Can I get you girls anything?” Steve asked. “Wine? Champagne? I’m sorry we don’t have any beer. It’s bad for my figure.”
“Some ice water would be great,” Richard said. Tyrone nodded in agreement.
Steve put a hand on his hip and cocked an eyebrow. “Not drinking? Have you girls finally sobered up?”
“Anton Black spiked my drink. I’ve just gotten off the trip from hell.”
“Literally,” Steve said and gave a campy little shudder. “Sister, you need to stop sleeping with those demons and stick with human beings.”
Georgios, who had been in a silent slump all this time, suddenly sat up, eyes wide. “Demons? The demons are back?”
Tyrone pulled out his keys and jangled them in front of Georgios’ eyes.
“Vooooodoooooo,” he intoned. Georgios grinned and relaxed.
Steve looked from Tyrone to Georgios and back again.
“I don’t even want to know,” he said, waving his hand and mincing into the kitchen.
Once he’d returned with a tray and three glasses of water, Richard said, “I’m afraid you do have to know. Let me explain what happened. I’m going to need your help and your advice.”
“Anything for family,” Steve said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.
Adam moved over to the chaise lounge and offered Georgios a glass.
“Here, you look like you need this.”
Instead of taking the water, Georgios put a hand on Adam’s crotch.
“Oooo, you manly faggot. Give it to me. I like manly faggots. I suck you and you fuck me, OK?”
While Adam tried to keep his clothes on and get Georgios to drink the water, Richard went through what had happened the night before. He left out no detail. The description of the sacrifice ritual and Richard’s taking of Georgios’ cherry in the cellar unfortunately made the Greek man even hornier. Finally Adam gave up and let Georgios pull his pants down. Adam listened to the rest of the story as Georgios gave him head, the Italian-American’s eyes glazing over as his pleasure mounted.
Richard finished just about the same time as Georgios did.
“Damn,” Adam sighed.
Georgios looked up at him. “You like?”
“No, I mean yes. I was actually responding to what Richard said.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Richard said. “They were boasting that they had been watching me. They seemed to know a lot, even about that benefit I did for the Everard fire.”
Tyrone smiled. “You got famous for that. Never seen someone so thirsty.”
“Honey, no one has made such a big splash in the scene in a long, long time,” Steve said.
“I guess you’re right, but they seemed to know details. I think they have a member in the gay community who has been watching me.”
“Who?”
Richard shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be anyone.”
“Well not Adam and Steve the way they helped break up the ritual,” Tyrone said, nudging Steve.
“No, of course not!” Richard said. “You guys are real friends. And not Peter either. It’s probably someone we see around the scene a lot but who isn’t real close to us. Just someone who hangs back and watches.”
“That could be a lot of people,” Adam said, buckling his belt.
Richard nodded and put a hand on Tyrone’s shoulder. “Yeah, we need to be careful. Perhaps we should get out of town for a while. With Georgios no longer a virgin, their only target will be me. And I’m afraid they’ll try to get to me through you.”
“No demon-worshipping crackers gonna scare me,” Tyrone scoffed.
“Now’s not the time for strutting. We have to be careful.”
“I think you’re right. You guys should get out of town,” Steve said. “Just until you can figure out what to do. And take this Greek schoolboy with you before he steals my husband.”
“Can we stay here tonight?” Richard asked.
“Sure,” Adam said, tousling Georgios’ hair. The Greek didn’t notice, he was too busy staring at the floral display on the coffee table.
“Wow. You see the plant breathe?” he whispered. “I never see this before.”
“Incurable,” Tyrone said with a chuckle. “Yo, guys, can I use your phone? I better check in with my momma. She’ll be worried about me.”
“Sure,” Steve said. “It’s in the bedroom.”
“Oh, you working a phone sex job?” Tyrone said.
Steve stuck out his tongue at him.
As Tyrone went off to the the bedroom, Richard turned to Adam, holding up his arm with the silver bracelet. “Can you get this off?”
Adam examined it. “Not without breaking the thing. Seems a pity to bust such a lovely antique.”
“I can’t do what I need to do if I can’t use my magical ability.”
“From what you said it sounds like it’s getting stronger.”
“Or I’m getting more accustomed to it,” Richard said with a shrug. “I’m just playing it by ear but it all just seems to work out.”
Adam fetched a small hammer and chisel and got the bracelet off of Richard’s wrist in a couple of minutes. Tyrone came back in.
“Think I got her calmed down. She’s convinced the lights gonna go out again.”
“You want to call your folks?” Adam asked Richard as he put away his tools. “The blackout must be all over the news even in your town.”
Richard blinked. During all this craziness, his family back in Mis
souri hadn’t once crossed his mind. In fact, he didn’t think about them much at all, even when things were going well. He called them, of course. Twice a week he’d chat with his mom, dad and little sister, making up all sorts of lies about his life in New York, knowing he couldn’t tell them the truth. He’d also called his grandfather, lying in that damned hospital he’d never get out of alive. Calling his relatives often depressed him. He couldn’t be honest, and the weakness in his granddad’s voice broke his heart.
“Oh, it’s long distance. I don’t want to be a burden,” Richard said without looking at him.
“Don’t worry about that,” Adam said with a dismissive gesture.
“Nah, I’ll call them when I get back to my place.”
“You can’t go back to your place, remember? Don’t worry about the phone bill. You can buy us some beer or something.”
“Don’t be such a vulgarian!” Steve cried in mock horror. “He can get us a fine Bordeaux.”
Richard didn’t say anything, but when he saw a curious look pass over Steve’s face, and a knowing one on Adam’s, he said. “Sure, thanks.”
Richard got up and went to the other room, dialing his parents’ number.
His father picked up, his familiar gravelly voice sounding like a life Richard had lived a thousand years ago. “Richard! Are you alright?”
“Yeah, sure Dad,” he lied as he always did. “Nothing happened on my street. I stayed in all night until the whole thing blew over.”
“We were trying to call you.”
“Sorry, I’m at a friend’s house. I came over to make sure they were OK. How are things there?”
There was a long pause.
“Dad, did you hear me?”
Silence.
“Dad?”
His dad let out a ragged sigh, a strange sound coming from a man who rarely showed his emotions. When he spoke again his voice wavered. “Your grandfather died this morning.”
Richard lay curled up on Adam and Steve’s bed, Tyrone stroking his back.
“I can’t believe he’s gone. I knew this was coming but I could never really picture it.”
“I know you and him were close. You talked about him a lot,” Tyrone said, his voice tender.
“He always rooted for me.”
“And your family didn’t?”