“I’m telling you, Belle, Richard brings them back begging for more! The lad is stupid, but he’ll do anything. Surely those two are worth the price of two green-horns still unbroken! By the way, tell me about the lads.”
“A prize package for the right buyer,” Belle confided. “Twin brothers from Australia..., cute little fuckers, too! I think they actually like doing it. I’ve watched them. But you know how I feel about using boys that young! They were slated for Louise Cerke’s house in New Orleans. You know how she treats her boys! I’ve seen her boys, or what’s left of them. Hell you’re gentle, Sam, compared to her. I just couldn’t bear the thought of Louise getting her hands on them. They really are sweet children. Promise me you won’t do bad by them?
“With my clientele it will take me a year to get back what I put into them with what they’ll bring in. If you get your place going there are enough pederast in San Francisco to make it worthwhile and keep you busy. Somebody on the ship got them addicted to opium and all they did the first few days was ask for it. They’re really into it! I guess it makes taking the peg, easier. Patrick is almost at the last peg already”
“The peg?” McIntyre had not known they were peg-boys. He could not imagine a boy of eight being able to take a peg the size of a man’s arm.
“Both of them? Did you train him up to that?”
Belle nodded as she sipped wine and puffed on a yellow cigarette that she passed to him, inhaling the smoke deeply until she felt the effect begin.
“No, he could already do that. Somebody got to that kid real early. He’s so cute. You’d never guess the little shit is a sex maniac. That’s another reason I can’t keep him. I don’t have enough customers to keep him happy. You can take both of them. I think they want to stay together. Separating them wouldn’t be right.”
“That still doesn’t settle our little problem. I don’t know why you don’t want the boys to go on tonight.”
She smiled, winking at him. “Because if they go on tonight there won’t be anything to wonder about! The more I thought about your plan this afternoon, the more I wondered if it was the right thing to do. I decided it wasn’t. None of the guests were told what to expect. So there won’t be any disappointments. Anyway the way you have that boy dressed, he’s all but naked and doesn’t need to be put on the stage for folks to appreciate what he carries between his legs. Christ, Sam, you really know how to show off your boys!”
“My tailor does it. He puts them into what he’d like to see them in. That’s why I have him do my work.”
“That old letch.” Belle belched as she spoke. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t died from a heart attack by now. I’m sure he goes crazy trying to keep his mind on his work when he’s so close to them and touching them like that while he measures and adjusts.”
“Maybe, but he’s never gotten out of line. I always ask the boys when they get back and none of them have ever complained. But that’s not what we’re here to talk about. So you agree to take Vincent and Richard for the twins?”
“Are you sure you can’t change your mind about Santiago? I’ll make it well worth it to you.!”
“Belle, there’s nothing you could offer that would be better than my having Santiago right now. Maybe in a while when I see how he works out, maybe then I’ll be open for a swap. Will you be willing to give Vincent back for Santiago if he doesn’t work out?”
Belle knew there was something about Vincent that she liked –– a quality about him that attracted her. He would be putty in her hands! But Vincent was a temperamental and determined boy who did not get along well with other boys. She has heard McIntyre complain of that very issue many times. Vincent could cause her problems and that was one thing she did not want.
“I’ll consider it,” she said. “Let’s agree to get back together in a couple months and see how everything is working out. But under no circumstances will I be willing to take back the twins. That’s a part of the deal that doesn’t change. And Sam…,” Belle leaned forward to face him. “Remember that those boys are still almost babies. Try to be kind, for once in your life!”
“Belle, babies aren’t sex puppets and they don’t dream of having fists up their asses.”
He went to the sideboard and filled the glasses. “What the fuck are you coming across so high and mighty for? If you think so much of them why not keep them and give them one of your tits to suck on!”
“Because this is the way I can keep my eye on them and...,” Belle reached for a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “Because if they stay here I’ll get too attached to them. I ain’t no mother, and I'm not about to tempt myself.”
McIntyre was surprised by her admission. It has never occurred to him that she might have a sense of motherhood.
He rose to leave.
“I might as well go out there and tell the boys they won’t be going on. You know I spent allot of money on him for tonight, but that’s not the reason why I think Santiago is going to be disappointed. He’s likes fucking Vincent and I think he also would have liked being watched by an audience!”
Anthony Bolen had stopped to speak to Vincent only briefly. He knew McIntyre was busy with Belle and not sure of when they would return and did not want to be seen talking with the boys, and especially with Vincent.
Their regular meetings these past three months had been totally out of line with the way McIntyre conducted his business, and one slip by Bolen could cause each of them trouble. It would be easy for McIntyre to have someone mention a little piece of gossip to Bolen’s wife or to either of his two children that would result in a confirmation of the suspicions he was sure she was having about her seldom-at-home husband. He had to be absolutely discreet! Yet he was so infatuated with Vincent that he could not let him go. He knew McIntyre would not let him see the boy as often as he wanted because the man had lost several boys to gentlemen who had fallen in love with his best stock and had taken them away.
“This is the boy who lost the gold. I told him about you,” Vincent whispered as he introduced Santiago. “He is working for McIntyre, now.”
Bolen extended his hand and he went weak when Santiago took it. The youngster was more beautiful than Vincent had described and he understood why his boy-lover had appeared worried about the meeting, wondering if Santiago would become competition. For this reason Bolen tried to appear unaffected and uninterested.
“Your property is safe in my keeping and it will be made available to you whenever you are ready to leave, or when you need it, Santiago. I am happy to be of help and I am also happy that you and Vincent are friends..., friends are very important in this town. You can consider me your friend, as well. He is s good boy..., a very GOOD boy,” Bolen winked to indicate his appreciation for Vincent’s assets. “Now I must leave you. I see McIntyre has come back. Until Wednesday..., Vincent?”
McIntyre spotted Bolen leaving.
“What did he want?” He looked at Vincent suspiciously.
“Just saying hello, and of course he wanted to meet Santiago.”
McIntyre snickered. “That surprises me. My boys tell me he’s been into street boys, recently..., the really dirty ones..., and that he’d rather pick up somebody without knowing names.”
The effect of McIntyre’s words, what he had hoped for, was evident in Vincent’s eyes as the jealousy rose and he became angry at McIntyre for saying it, confirming his suspicion.
“By the way, you boys will not be performing tonight. There’s been a change of plans.”
Vincent smiled.
Santiago frowned.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was not easy for Santiago to adapt to Vincent’s absence. He had become accustomed to sharing the room and bed with his friend. Even when Vincent did not come back until the early morning hours he always knew that he would be back. They had talked about things and Santiago felt he could discuss almost anything with Vincent. And he liked that the boy did not belittle him for his lack of sophistication as other boys did.
When McIntyre had announced that Vincent was to go to work for Belle, he had seemed almost happy with being given one day to get his things together and move to his new location. Santiago wondered if they would see each other. In the five weeks they had been friends and that he had been working for McIntyre, he had seen a number of boys come and go. Some did not work well and were moved elsewhere and some ran away when they found that more was expected of them than what they had thought. Occasionally a boy would return from an appointment and beg McIntyre to choose his clients more carefully after showing the marks of perversity they had been forced to endure. Once a boy left he was not safe on the streets and would find trying to work for himself almost impossible, and many would return asking to be reinstated. But McIntyre never took a boy back if he had run away and those that did, usually drifted into oblivion.
Not a day passed without Santiago wondering about his friend, and the room itself was a constant reminder. Much of his time was occupied by a continuous flow of men who praised the outstanding beauty and achievements of McIntyre’s new boy. But the in-between hours when his time was his own were spent recalling his past life in Peru with Fidel, whose face he had begun to forget. His mind would also drift to the terrible times in the mountains of the Sierras where he had become a man and murderer all at once. So much had happened to him! So many people had crossed his path and each had left a mark –– some had left a stain on his spirit.
Santiago Cali was reserved for the high-paying customers. Like most of McIntyre’s boys, Santiago had begun consuming large amounts of opium and hashish. There was always at least one boy on each floor with a good supply. The rumor spread among the boys that McIntyre planned to open a peg-house and many wondered if they would be selected to service the new venture. It was not a popular aspiration. From what Santiago had understood from McIntyre, it seemed that most of the current boys would be too old for the venture. Excepting the twins, Santiago, now fourteen, was the youngest in McIntyre’s stable. He had seen the twins on the morning they had arrived by carriage, well shielded from public view. They were roomed somewhere on the third floor, to which no one was allowed access. Meals were brought to them and only at night were they allowed to go out for a walk with one of McIntyre’s men. That they were already trained pegboys gave them a certain notoriety.
Santiago had just finished with a man who had been coming to him regularly when one of McIntyre’s men walked in on them.
“Session’s over, boys! McIntyre wants to see you, Cali.”
The man was left standing naked as Santiago was hurried to slip on his pants and shirt. He followed Shanks, worried about the reason for being called by McIntyre so early in the day. To the best of his recollection he had followed all the rules McIntyre had drilled into him in his first week. Perhaps it was about the unsuccessful visit he had made to Belle’s to see Vincent. Maybe McIntyre had had him followed to see what he would do? Maybe it has something to do with Bolen, who had come looking for Vincent. When Bolen had been told that Vincent was away and not available, he had been offered Santiago and he accepted. They had made love several times that afternoon and Bolen had returned every day that week. Then he had not come back after Santiago had taken the risk of telling him where Vincent could be found.
Santiago and Shanks went by carriage to the Eldorado Hotel. McIntyre was surrounded by drawings and sketches of buildings. He looked up quickly and motioned for Santiago to wait while he completed business.
“I have received good reports about you,” McIntyre said, inviting Santiago to sit closer. “They tell me you are doing well. And you’re customers are saying that they are very satisfied. You are quite a lad! I knew that the afternoon we had sex that you were born for this kind of work!”
Santiago was unimpressed with the praise. That McIntyre thought that he was born for the work he was doing, made him irritated.
“I have a special assignment for you. As you probably heard, I am going to expand my operation. The place is almost completed and we should be ready to move in two or three days. I bought a warehouse and have had the insides completely refurbished so that we will be able to offer our customers as many as thirty boys, all of whom will have their private rooms. There will be a place to gamble and a place where the boys will be on display. There will also be steam-bath and message rooms.
“You are going to be one of the first to inaugurate McIntyre’s Peg House. Right now, I have six other boys ready for work. I want to meet with all of you and answer any questions you might have, before we begin operation.”
McIntyre sat back, hands folded on stomach, smiling the kind of smile that Santiago had come to recognize as one that said you will do what I say!. As he was speaking, McIntyre opened a tin and pushed it toward Santiago. The boy dipped the fingernail he had let grow long, into the powder. McIntyre lit a long-stemmed pipe, puffed several times, then passed it on. The smoke had an immediate effect. Santiago noticed that it took less time for him to feel the effects of the pipe each time he smoked it. Sometimes he would lie awake at night unable to sleep because he could think of nothing else but smoking and he would make the rounds of the rooms looking for someone who had something to give him. Santiago took the pipe greedily. McIntyre smiled.
Santiago had heard the other boys talking about the peg-houses. He did not want to be cooped up all the time in such a place. Although he had not been allowed much time into the streets, it was not as if he was being held prisoner. But it was what he had heard happened in such places. Obviously it was where McIntyre wanted him. Yet it seemed that McIntyre was asking him to make the decision. Could he say no?
“Señor, I am not unhappy doing what I have been doing for you. And as you say, the men who have come to me have been well treated. I have heard about these peg-houses and I think I would prefer staying here.”
McIntyre’s frown made it obvious that it was not what he had wanted to hear but he stayed calm.
“My boy, there are some things that we are born to do. Sometimes we need to see what those things are by being forced to look at our options. Take my advice when I tell you that it would be to your advantage to decide in favor of my request. Would you like to do that?”
Santiago was surprised that McIntyre was not raging, as he was not used to having his orders refused. Normally he would have exploded and yelled, forcing what he wanted by threats or physical punishment. He had seen the man react in a similar fashion many times with other boys. This time he was making an effort to withhold his wrath.
Santiago persisted.
“Please, I would like to stay at the rooming house.”
A shadow passed over McIntyre’s face and his eyes narrowed as the muscles around his jaw bulged. He sat up and reached for the half-smoked pipe that Santiago had just put down.
“So be it! You may go now. Come to see me when you change your mind..., and you will!”
The dismissal had been curt, with no mistaking the threat in the tone of voice. Santiago went outside to find the carriage gone. He would have to walk back to the rooming house and he did not mind doing so as it offered some time to think before he would be put back to work. The weather was sultry with the wind blowing off the bay. Although the sun was shining he could see the bank of fog spilling over the western hills, and he knew that soon the air would turn cold and damp. It was May and although the winter has passed, its presence could still be seen on the mountains to the East.
Walking along Kearney Street Santiago slowed as he passed Dennison’s Saloon. Thinking that he had seen a familiar face, he stopped and looked in. Although the man did resemble the captain, it was not Alvarez but the thought of the man brought forth a flood of other memories about a time not so long ago when he had been a young boy fresh from the hills of Peru on board ship with his father, heading for a land of gold. They would return to St. Cecilia as the wealthiest of men!
It had been some time since Santiago had thought of Don Emelio. That realization depressed him. He was struck with a heaviness of the fact
that in the past few weeks he had seldom thought about those who had been dear to him. Santiago saw his mother, her quiet form sitting by the window looking toward the hills. May had been the month of her birth. The date had come and gone without his notice. He heard the sound of his brother’s voice..., its teasing and commanding quality and even though he had disliked Emelio just before he had been killed, he ached to touch him now. And there was Fidel! How could an emotion that had been so compelling now be so weak as to have resulted in so few thoughts in the past months? Santiago reached into his soul to sense its contents, feeling for the emotions that seemed lost and he found emptiness.
The harbor was only a block away and it beckoned him. He walked in thought, tears falling freely. There was such an overwhelming ache in his heart and such a need to touch someone or be touched that he began to run and only when he came to the edge of the pier did he stop, realizing he had almost plunged into the water. He sat on a piling. The sun was hidden by fog. Everything was gray. The water, land, and the hills in the distance became vague as he was enveloped by a cold mist. From behind he heard the tolling bells of Mission Dolores announcing vespers. It would take much too long to walk there to be in time for the service. It would be better to be there alone so that he would not be recognized by parishioners.
The interior of the church was almost empty. Save for the few candles lighting the altar, the rear of the church was in darkness. Santiago walked to the small chapel to the left of the main altar. The benches he and his father had carved were now all stained and varnished. He fingered the scroll-work of the end panels and ran his hand along the smooth finish beneath the seats where no varnish had been applied. He felt the wood grain, silken, cool. He remembered another place where he had often felt the grains of wood..., where the smell of wood had been the only smell that had been with him since he could remember. When Santiago had been old enough to crawl to the wood shop, he had watched Don Emelio plane the planks, enthralled by the curled slivers that peeled away and had fallen to the floor. They had been his first playthings.
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