PEG BOY

by Berube, R. G.

  “Santiago, I have been in many places and too many countries. None have had the intensity found in San Francisco. It is the gold that turns people into creatures more base than animals. People do things here that they would never have done in their own towns.

  “At every turn there is someone waiting to deprive you of your possessions or to give you less value than what things are worth. Yet prices being charged for basic staples are so outrageous that when one writes to friends at home, they believe it is all exaggeration. The answer to your question is greed.”

  Standing at the rail they observed a lonely figure staggering along a dark lane some distance away. Behind the figure several shadows followed. Each time the man stopped, the shadows stood still. The man seemed unaware. He came close to the wharf’s edge and for a moment it seemed he would escape the trouble that followed him by falling into the bay. But before he fell he was grabbed from behind and his cry was cut short by a blow to the head. The men went through his pockets then rolled him into a sack and carried him off, disappearing into the shadows.

  “Another unsuspecting citizen who has joined the ranks of the maritime profession without consent! He will rue the night he got drunk and lost his way, and his wife will spend many nights in tears until his return, if he ever returns!”

  “Why do they do it?”

  “Each vessel loses most of its crew to the placers. Captains still must conduct their business and they often stand to lose a great deal of money if they can not return with a cargo they have consigned to transport. Those of healthy constitution often can not defend themselves when drunk and are open prey. The thugs can easily earn a thousand dollars in one night if they capture and shanghai enough defenseless souls. I used their service when I was last in port. Although I disliked doing it, it was impossible to find anyone willing to sign on as crew for the return voyage. I would have lost all I had invested. Luckily a few of my crew remained loyal and we were able to sail the ship without mishap, allowing the lesser functions to the unwilling who had had no say in their employ.”

  Santiago shivered at the thought of that kind of destiny. He considered himself well-off for he might now be in the belly of a ship, captive and destined for use by rough seamen. He looked at the stars as they shone through swiftly-moving clouds and he wondered if his father was looking down at him, seeing what he had done and what he was doing? Santiago pushed the thought from his head as Gabriel poured more brandy and he drank it willingly, feeling the heat in his throat and the warmth spreading throughout his body.

  What would his destiny be? He had traveled a long journey from the time of a small boy living in a hillside village of his native Peru, to the boy-man who now faced the world alone. It seemed years away..., those times spent in Fidel’s arms, the nights by his mother’s side as he listened to her gentle voice lull him to sleep, the long walks along the mountain paths with his father, the walks alone to collect the herds and wild flowers his mother loved so..., years away, separated by memories of quiet nights alone, watching stars shoot across the sky in the comfort and peace of his family’s love. Was he ever that boy?

  Gabriel had been talking. “Come, let us go inside. You are shivering and will catch cold from the night air. I have a small brazier that will keep us warm. Are you hungry?”

  Santiago had grown hungry since Wexler’s meal.

  “Yes..., very! Will you feed me?

  “With pleasure! There are cooked potatoes and jerky that we can wash down with beer. I hope you have a strong stomach!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  As promised, Gabriel took Santiago for breakfast the following morning. Lingering over the meal Santiago felt again that he was losing someone who, even for a short while, had gotten close to him and treated him with kindness. But the Captain had things to do. Santiago wondered if all boys of the street had similar feelings about the people with whom they sold time, when it came to parting? Santiago did not look back, knowing Gabriel’s eyes were on him as he walked away.

  He had ten dollars in his pocket and a well-worn, warm coat that did not compare with the fleece-lined one given by his father that had been stolen. Santiago went in the direction of Vincent’s rooming house. The early morning sun had begun to burn off the still-heavy fog. As he approached the building the sun’s glare reflected off its windows and nearly obscured the face that moved away from one of them. Santiago was sure it had been Vincent’s. The hallways were deserted. He heard no sounds as he climbed the stairs and found two men blocking his way at the top. They moved in unison and each took one of Santiago’s arms , lifting him and carrying him down the hallway.

  “Someone wants to see you!”

  His heart pounded, not knowing what he had gotten himself into. The men looked fierce and neither let him go, applying more pressure than was necessary.

  “Who are you? Why do you do this? I am here to see someone,” he said, struggling to get away.

  One of the men turned and threatened him with a fist.

  “You can with us without trouble, or you can come unconscious. Which is it?”

  Santiago made no further effort to resist and allowed himself to be escorted to Portsmouth Square. They entered the Eldorado Hotel and walked directly through the lobby to the rear of the building where they knocked on a door three times. A gruff voice yelled at them to enter. Santiago was shocked to see Vincent seated on he floor, leaning against McIntyre’s leg.

  “Well, well..., look at what we have here! It seems you’ve encountered some difficulties my boy. Perhaps there is something I can do to help? Your friend here...,” McIntyre touched Vincent’s shoulder. “... tells me you might be needing some assistance.”

  Santiago looked at Vincent, who avoided looking back, having seen the utter disappointment on Santiago’s face when he first entered. There had been no need of words He had felt ashamed but only until he thought of the way he had been treated when he had first arrived. Wasn’t all this part of paying your dues? It was good for Santiago to have gone through these bad times for him to learn that it was necessary to have protection as long as he remained in business.

  ‘Come here, boy!”

  McIntyre called Santiago as though he were commanding a dog.

  “You go to hell!” Santiago spit the words and turned to leave. He felt a hard blow to the back of his head and went down. Hands grabbed at him and pulled him back in the room.

  “When you are unreasonable, it makes it difficult to use reasonable means in trying to convince you that it would be much better for you to work for me than be alone and without protection.”

  McIntyre stood in front of him with his face only inches away so that his fouled breath made Santiago feel nauseous. McIntyre stepped back and sat down.

  “Santiago, why don’t you use good sense and give my proposition consideration? You know you have no one here that you can turn to. You are wanted by the authorities!”

  Santiago was stunned that somehow McIntyre had found out his secret. He felt frightened and vulnerable and his face showed his concern.

  “Yes, I know all about your problems. You see word travels fast in some circles! But have no fear you are safe with me, unless you insist on pursuing this independent attitude. What will you do? You have no money!”

  Santiago heard this last statement as an admission of theft.

  “If I need money I know how to get it, and I don’t need your help to find men who will pay to suck me off. What makes you so important?”

  McIntyre leaned back in his chair and laughed, slapping his belly and the head of the boy sitting beside him.

  “I’ll say this for you, you little bastard..., you’ve got balls! I don’t usually let anyone talk to me that way, but this one time I'm going to make an exception because I admire your boldness. You could be an asset to my operation, assuming you can control yourself and understand who’se boss! Now listen to me...”

  McIntyre stood and came face to face with Santiago, grabbing his shirt collar and twisting it so th
at he raised him to the tips of his toes.

  “There isn’t anywhere in this town where you could sell your ass without my approval. Some have tried and found themselves shanghaied and attacked by The Hounds so that their pretty faces have become a thing of the past. Nobody wants to go to bed with a freak! Those men are such an unruly bunch that they are almost impossible to control once they have been aroused. Some of the Hound boys have been fucked until they couldn’t stand and then were shipped off to Hong Kong, Singapore, and even China. I'm told that a boy usually doesn’t last much more than a year in those places, and then gets thrown into the streets. Is that what you want to become, Santiago?”

  “No. I can go back to my own country.”

  “No, you can’t go back anywhere because no one will take you back without money, and you haven’t got any, assuming the authorities would let you leave given what you’ve done, once I informed them”

  McIntyre smiled and sat down again. “If you had intentions of going back, you’d have done it already. You don’t want to go back and you know it. You want to do exactly what you did last night. Yes, I know who picked you up and I could have had both of you attacked at any point. Look what you earned from him! Come..., empty your pockets and show us what you earned..., show me!”

  Santiago took out his ten dollar piece. McIntire held it up for scrutiny, laughing as he flipped it in his hand.

  “So you have become rich! Do you know what this will buy you? You would need three times as much to get a decent room, twice as much for food. This is nothing to what you could get is you worked for me, and there would always be plenty of this anytime you needed more.”

  McIntire snapped his fingers. Vincent brought and lit a water-pipe. An acrid scent filled the room and Santiago recalled it as being the same one he had smelled the night he had been attacked, when Vincent had provided the drugs.

  “Why be stubborn, my boy? Join our little family and know that no one will bother you on or off the streets as long as you are one of McIntire’s boys. Any time you need help, all you have to do is ask and I will be there to make sure no none abuses you. I make it a point to always rescue my boys in trouble.”

  Santiago noticed Vincent, standing behind McIntire, urging him to be cooperative. He knew what McIntire was saying was true and that he would have trouble if he remained in San Francisco on his own. If he did join McIntire, he would be given protection, but at the cost of what? The nature of his business would not be changed, only the quality of life, or so he was being told. Why not join McIntire? Vincent wore good clothes, had spending money in his pockets and his own room. But all at the cost of having to turn on a friend!

  “How do you expect me to trust you after you did what you did? I know it was you....” Santiago looked at Vincent. “He set me up and your men beat me and stole my things!”

  “You are an angry boy, Santiago and well you should be! But you seem to think that I had something to do with all that. Sometimes there are little problems like the one you had that I can not control as quickly as I would like. I had nothing to do with that episode. I heard you had been beaten and was sorry for you. I hoped they had not damaged your face, and I can see they did not. You are still a beautiful boy and one that could command a high price. Let me tell you that I found out who the men were that hurt you. They have been punished. To show you I mean well, let me return something that I planned to give you the next time we met.”

  McIntire snapped his fingers.

  “Get me the coat!”

  Don Emelio’s fleece-lined coat was brought out.

  “Here, take it. I hope it is not damaged. As for the gold, well we were not able to get to the culprits soon enough to prevent them from losing it all at the faro tables. I'm afraid your money has all been lost. But I will allow you to replenish some of your losses by working for me and I will set aside a certain amount from each transaction for when you become too old to sell what is so valuable at this time.”

  McIntyre looked at Santiago’s crotch as he said it.

  “Vincent tells me you are substantially endowed and that you told him you make both men and women happy with what you have between your legs. Come.., show us what is there that seems to be making such a bulge!”

  Already Santiago had become hard at the thought of sex and he could not control the swelling in his pants.

  “See there..., see how it grows,” McIntyre admired the boy’s response. “Out with it, boy, I want to see what I am going to be protecting. Show your cock…, you are among friends!”

  Santiago untied the string to his pants and let them fall. He felt his penis surge forward and upward as it stood out proudly, moving of its own accord as it pulsed.

  “Jesus Christ..., I had no idea!”

  McIntyre’s mouth was open in awe as he looked at Vincent and nodded approvingly.

  “You’ll get a bonus for this one, my lad,” he said to Vincent.

  McIntyre ordered the others to leave.

  “Vincent and Santiago will remain.”

  The room emptied. The boys stood looking at each other from across the room. Santiago was still semi-erect and thinking of the two times that he and the pretty boy he was staring at had made love. His erection came full size and McIntyre clapped his hands, happy with the response. He stood before Santiago and his hand went to the boy’s penis and cradled it in his palm, feeling its weight. It was a remarkable appendage, one that would make him money. He was already selecting those who would be willing to pay the high price for such a find, from his list of clients.

  “Come Santiago, you passed the test. You are now one of McIntyre’s boys.”

  Santiago looked confused, surprised that he had not been forced to have sex with the man.

  “You mean I do not have to do anything with you?”

  “Not here! McIntyre never does things like that when there are other people around.” Vincent nodded and winked.

  McIntyre stood by the door, inviting the boys to leave.

  “You agree to join me?’

  “I am yours, Señor.”

  McIntyre nodded his approval of Santiago’s decision. He gave Santiago a small leather pouch as he passed.

  “Be ready to meet me back here at eight, tonight” He looked at Vincent and pointed a finger. “He’s in your care. I want him cleaned and outfitted with new clothes. We’re going to Belle’s tonight. You’ll be coming too. I want to show off my two prize boys!”

  McIntyre laughed as he slammed the door, leaving the two boys alone in the hallway. Santiago tossed the pouch in his hand and it jingled. Opening it, five silver pieces fell out, each with the value of five dollars.

  “Vincent, look, what will I need this for?”

  Vincent threw an arm around Santiago’s shoulders, happy that he seemed less angry than before. The boy’s face was still slightly swollen and they would have to work on that before the evening festivities.

  “As part of an initiation right, you will be expected to get fucked by ten men, tonight. That money if your pay.”

  Vincent watched Santiago’s face fill with anger and he was close to exploding as he threw the pouch to the floor.

  “Ten men for that? To hell with him! I am not going to take on ten men for any price! Does he think I am a machine?”

  Vincent fell to the floor, doubled over in laughter hardly able to speak as he retrieved the coins.

  “Santiago, I was joking.” he said, regaining his composure. “You will do nothing like that tonight. This money is for your new clothes and other things you will need. We are going to be room-mates for a while. I’m supposed to take you to the tailor. You’ll have your things by tonight, but we’ll need to hurry. McIntyre is taking us out on the town..., he wants to show us off. I suppose he wants to advertise you as his new acquisition. We will be going to a very outrageous dancehall where there is gambling and certain shows that are performed in the back room that will make your hair stand on end.”

  “What do you mean? What kind of shows?”


  “Never mind..., you’ll see! Come, there is little time to waste and much to do.”

  Santiago was confused and wondered why McIntyre was being so kind to him. Could it be that he was not involved in the beating? How could it be that this man whose seemed so amiable, have so many who distrusted and disliked him, as he had seen the fear in the eyes of those who had had dealings with him. Could Santiago really trust Vincent and the man who offered help? It was hard to resist.

  “Why is he doing all this?”

  Vincent laughed at Santiago’s innocence. “There will be many people at Belle’s Nugget..., some men, some women. McIntyre has only one purpose. You will be there to show off as much of yourself as possible and be seen by many who use his services. He clothes and feeds you, and sometimes keeps you in silk for only one purpose. You are groomed only to be sold. Come, let us be off.”

  Vincent took Santiago’s arm and led him out of the hotel, where they were dazzled by the bright sunlight. The early-morning haze had burned off and the town was bathed in a sharp light that made them squint. They walked along Grant Street and Vincent saw Santiago looking at him with curiosity.

  “Go ahead, ask your question. I know you’ve been dying to..., so ask.”

  “I wanted to earlier. I wanted to kill you, earlier! Then I realized your small part in all this and that it would do no good to do anything to you. And I know I have few choices except to take McIntyre’s offer. I know I could leave if I wanted to, but I choose to stay because there are things I want to know. I will stay because it will give me some time to settle things that are at present, unsettled.”

  “Am I part of those unsettled things?” Vincent had an edge to his voice. “I hope you’re not threatening me, because if...,”

  Santiago put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “Look, I know it was not you that hurt me. You probably would have done things differently if you had not been forced to..., and I know McIntyre had a hand it. I'm going to put that all aside for now. I don’t have a grudge with you, Vincent. I want us to be friends, as we can achieve more that way than being enemies. But I do need to ask a question. What did you stand by and allow what happened without protesting?”