PEG BOY

by Berube, R. G.

  “Whatever you decide,” he said. “I can still be your friend.”

  “But I would rather have a brother!”

  Kim looked into Santiago’s eyes and his own were filled with tears. Be buried his face in Santiago’s shoulder and wept.

  “Everything is so fucked up! Why does it need to be like this?”

  “Kim things are like this but it does not mean that they must remain like this! How do you know that something won’t happen to change things? Maybe if you get yourself looking better, somebody will see you and become interested in you, and maybe that might be a way for you to get away from here. Maybe anything...”

  “You think so?”

  “I think anything is possible! If anyone had told me a year ago that I would be working in this kind of place, I would never have believed it. But look at me now!”

  The boy looked wistful. “I wish I was a pretty as you.”

  Santiago laughed.

  “Pretty is not something you say to a boy unless he happens to be the likes of Mariposa. But, you are handsome! Not now of course because of how badly you have allowed yourself to get. But you could be again. You could be very handsome with more meat on you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes little brother, I think so.”

  Kim rested his head against Santiago’s chest.

  “Thank you, Santiago, I will try.”

  The two boys held each other as they lay back on the bed and soon drifted into sleep, a sleep soothed by the comfort of touch.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Samuel McIntyre saw a remarkable recovery in the Australian boy and knew he had Santiago Cali to thank. Somehow Santiago had taken McIntyre at his word and had accepted Kim as his responsibility. Not only had the young boy begun to speak again, he had also begun to gain weight. His dour demeanor had not changed, however. It was evident that the boy took no pleasure in what he was doing. In point of fact he hated it. This came to light after his brother’s death and it had surprised McIntyre because he had heard from clients that the boy had been quite adept and cooperative.

  In the following weeks the daily operation of the house became routine. The boys rose near noon to eat the main meal served in the communal dining room. The business day began near mid-afternoon. From that time any of the boys that were called upon to service patrons were ordered to their peg-stools to display themselves for selection. Non-working time was spent in their rooms or with others in the parlor, where they played games of cards and darts, or watched others do so. There was always a ready supply of water pipes for those who needed them.

  Kim Simmons resigned himself to bide his time. He intended to get away from McIntyre somehow and the courage he had gained from Santiago’s support and friendship convinced him it could be possible.

  Kim began to follow Santiago everywhere. The boys were never seen apart except when servicing clients. When clients requested to have the boys together, McIntyre refused, knowing the relationship would suffer if they were forced to become sexual partners. It was his sense of human nature and business and not of propriety that motivated the decision. He wanted the young boy to depend on Santiago, who was stable and cooperative, and who would hopefully influence Kim to similar behavior.

  Santiago found himself so involved with Kim that it surprised him. He had not been prepared to feel or understand the intensity of emotions he experienced in this kind of love. He had known the love of his mother and father and the love for his brother…, the love of and for his lover and the love for nature and living things. But he was not familiar with the love of nurturing and protection. He felt the weight of the responsibility of dependence and of being the reason for someone-else’s safety and comfort. He had first thought of himself falling in love with Kim in a sexual way but then realized the error when his thoughts of the boy were not erotic in nature. Most of the other boys in the peg-house were convinced that Santiago and Kim had become lovers or were going to bed together as payment for Santiago’s protection and he was ridiculed by some for his attraction to children. Some spoke out of jealousy. But McIntyre understood.

  Santiago and Kim had spent the afternoon sunning themselves on the roof. The weather had broken and clouds had parted to reveal a warm sun that burned off the morning fog. The smell of sea and the warmth of the sun on their skin were so unusual that it seemed out of place from the previous month’s endurance. McIntyre had suggested that they go to the roof for air in hopes of reducing the growing sense of confinement he had seen in the boys’ faces.

  Santiago urged Kim to accompany him. Aside from attending the functions in the parlor in the evening, being displayed on peg, Kim had not been leaving his room. His initial enthusiasm for the perverse had changed to apathy. It seemed that he had resigned himself to accepting his lot in life as long as someone he liked and trusted was close for support. He had not decreased his consumption of opium and still ate little, but his weight had resulted in a more attractive boy whose genitals had recently begun to change color and enlarge. Santiago and Kim had bonded closely in the weeks after Michael’s death and it had been the sadness of his eyes and the hopelessness of his sighs to which Santiago had responded.

  The evening promised to be a busy one. Two ships had anchored that day and word of McIntyre’s peg-house had reached those of the crew who fancied that kind of entertainment, having come to know and grow fond of similar services in the Orient. When Santiago reported to the daily meeting held in the afternoon before the establishment’s doors opened for business, he was informed that he had been purchased for the night by Mr. Bolen. Knowing he would not see Kim until the following morning, Santiago made it a point to spend time with him before work began.

  “Remember…,” Santiago said, putting his arm around the young boy’s shoulders as they sat side-by-side on his bed, “…we’ll be in this room all the time. If you have any problem or need anything, knock on the wall. I will come quickly. Mr. Bolen will not mind the interruption. He is a kind man.”

  “You see him a lot, don’t you!”

  Kim had wondered how Santiago felt for the man who paid him a visit at least two times a week.

  “Do you really like doing it with him?”

  Kim could not imagine himself enjoying making love to any of the men he had been forced to service and was in awed by Santiago’s comfort with what he was asked to do each night. He knew Santiago had developed a fondness for Mr. Bolen, but to what degree?

  “I like him,” Santiago smiled. “Mr. Bolen is gentle. He loves to touch me and he never asks me to do anything I do not want to do. I enjoy sex with him and he makes me feel good. With him I have some worth, some value. Yes, I do like doing it with him.”

  “Does he love you?”

  “In his way, yes.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “He likes making love to me but it is more than that. He also talks to me and asks me what I think about things. He tries to take care of me when we spend time together. He looks out for me and brings me little gifts. I suppose that is a love of some kind.”

  Kim leaned closer and looked into Santiago’s eyes.

  “But that is how you feel about me! You do things for me. You take care of me. You give me little gifts. Santiago, we do not make love, but you do all the other things. Does that mean you love me?”

  The subject of love had not been discussed between them before. But now that the questions had been asked and the comparisons made, Santiago had to admit that the observation had veracity.

  “Yes, I do love you Kim. You mean more to me than anyone in my life right now. Everyone that I have loved has gone. The only one left is the boy who was once my lover, and he is in Peru. There are too many miles and too much time between us. It is difficult to see him as clearly as I once did. I am not the boy I was!”

  “Will you leave me?”

  Santiago was surprised by the question.

  “But, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Michael was not planning to go
anywhere either, but he left me!”

  Santiago took Kim’s hands.

  “We are friends, Kim. I am not going to leave you alone. I care a great deal for you, but you must show me that you care for yourself! Let me tell you something. It does not matter what you need to do to survive so long as you succeed. You are of no value to yourself or to anyone else, dead.”

  “But how long will you keep doing this,” Kim asked, distressed. “How long will McIntyre keep me? You know how he buys and sells boys. How do I know that you or I will not be sold or sent away?”

  “We don’t! But each day that does not happen is one more day I can work on my plan.”

  “What plan? For what?”

  “To get us out of here!”

  “How? What do you plan to do, escape? The doors are locked. The only way to escape is to jump from the roof when he allows us to go there and even then , we would break our necks.”

  “But someone else could get us the way you mentioned before.”

  “You mean buy us?”

  “Yes.”

  “But then we would be taken from each other! Who would buy us together?”

  “My gentleman friend.”

  “Mr. Bolen? Would he do that?”

  “If I give him what he wants and do not make it available too often, yes. If I make him feel as wonderful as I think I can, perhaps I could talk him into doing what would be necessary to have me whenever he wanted.”

  “Do you really think you could?”

  “Yes..., but it may take time. And McIntyre could put a stop to it anytime.”

  “Would he?”

  “Yes, if he thought Mr. Bolen and I were getting too close. But Mr. Bolen thinks enough money would convince McIntyre to do otherwise. If he is right, perhaps enough money could convince him to let us go.”

  “Mr. Bolen would buy me too?”

  The boy’s interest had become aroused. It was the first time Santiago had mentioned his plan. Hope surged within him and made his heart pound so that he could barely contain his joy.

  “Santiago...,” Kim hugged his friend. “You would talk him into taking me along too?”

  “Of course! Are we not brothers?”

  Kim realized that up to this moment all his thoughts of the future had held little hope. Now there was a plan of escape that would free them and it filled him with excitement.

  “Will you ask him tonight, Santiago? You will see him tonight? You will ask what he can do for us?”

  “The time is not right yet, Kim. I must wait for the right moment.”

  “But why can you not ask him tonight? He likes you..., you could tell him that I would do for him what you do. That way he could have the two of us. Please find out if he can get us out of here!”

  Santiago disentangled himself from Kim’s embrace.

  “Listen,” he said, holding Kim’s shoulders in an attempt to quiet him. “ You are asking me to do something at the moment that would not work. It is not the right time. I need to have more time with him. I need more time!”

  Kim turned away and faced the wall, brooding in disappointment.

  “You don’t care what happens to me,” he snapped. “All you care about is yourself.”

  “You believe that?” Santiago moved to the bed. “Do you really believe that?”

  Kim glared at him, his eyes blazing with frustration and anger. Santiago moved to the door. Kim ran and stood before the door, blocking his exit.

  “No, wait. Don’t go, please! I’m sorry. I did not mean what I said. I know you care and that you are my friend. Don’t go!”

  Santiago went to the bed again, brining the boy with him.

  “If there is one thing I have learned since I have come to this country, it is to choose the correct moment. In all things, there is always a right and wrong time. Michael chose the wrong time to complain and give McIntyre problems. Had he waited until he had made himself more popular with the patrons and a source of money for McIntyre, he would have been less likely to have been considered dispensable.

  “Kim, let me do this my way! All I can tell you is that I will not leave willingly without you!”

  On the morning of June 26th, Anthony Bolen was returning from one of his warehouses when he observed a crowd moving toward a settlement known as Little Chile, on the western slope of Telegraph Hill. He sensed trouble by the look of the crowd. Some men wore pistols at their sides and others carried fire-brands. The area was notorious for its racial tensions. Some inhabitants of the neighboring Sidney Town, exiles from Australian penal colonies, were often recruited by the Hounds to harass Peruvians and Chileans living in shacks and tents in the Spanish settlement.

  Night-time violence and crimes had begun occurring during the day-light hours. Beatings once done under the cover of darkness were now happening in daylight. Many of the town’s leaders were concerned but found that there was little that could be done, in the area. Bolen deplored the racial violence. He hated the group of thugs who banded together to plague foreigners. These hoodlums operated under the guise of an illusion of justice and claimed to be ridding the town of undesirables. Anyone who looked Spanish or Asian was immediately branded and usually accosted, resulting in forcing people of like nationalities to band together for strength and support. Pockets of ethnic settlements appeared. Chinese, Irish, Australians, Chileans, and Peruvians all came together through necessity.

  The mob moved as one toward the settlement. The reason for unrest may have been an injustice done, a slight taken too seriously, an insult perceived. One could not be sure. Cause was only an excuse for intolerance. The men swarmed into the colony of shacks and tents, setting torches to structures with no thought to the occupants within. The early time of day assured that most would still be asleep. Screams rose above the sounds of fire. Bolen watched as those who came crawling or running from the burning structures were pummeled or shot. Some were driven back into the infernos. Men, women and children were shot in the face or back as they ran from the area. It was when Bolen saw one of the attacking men lift a crying and abandoned baby from the ground and throw it into the flames of a burning shack that he ran at the man and sank his fingers into the face and began tearing at it. Never had he felt such intense violence within himself. The screams of the burning child and the smell of the scorched flesh filled his nostrils, penetrated his sense, and permanently lodged into his mind.

  Bolen ran from place to place, pulling women and children from the flames, his own hands scorching but he felt nothing. The massacre continued uninterrupted for almost twenty minutes until the beast of mass-hysteria had spent its energy and the mob realized what it had done and began to disperse. Individuals sought separation from the whole to escape the responsibility of the mass murder. Bolen stood with a small group of the injured; most were severely burned or beaten. In his arms he held a child, its scalp blistered to the bone. The corps was so badly charred that he could not tell if it were a girl or boy. He wept.

  Anthony Bolen remained confined to bed in a darkened room for eight days. His burns were dressed by his wife and the doctor visited daily. The only sounds he made were screams when he drifted into sleep and the nightmare returned.

  Santiago had spent time planning how he could achieve making Bolen want him as his permanent boy. He had decided to mention this possibility that evening, and was disappointed when Bolen did not come. Santiago assumed Bolen had decided to favor Vincent instead, knowing the connection between the two was still being maintained, the thought of which undermined his hopes. He became depressed and depression turned into anger when McIntyre, seeing the boy not meeting his scheduled customer, sent him two new men. McIntyre had heard about the fracas in Little Chile, and of Bolen’s injuries and decided not to inform Santiago, letting him stew in his anger.

  Bolen did not appear the next day or the day after that. Although Santiago ached to ask McIntyre what might be wrong, as he sensed the man knew something, he would not give him the satisfaction. He was badgered by Kim’s insi
stent questions of where Santiago thought Bolen might be, when he thought the man might return, and whether he would ever return at all. Kim even suggested that they had been abandoned, as though an existing commitment existed. The only time the boy was calm was when he was drugged, a state maintained through McIntyre’s indulgence.

  Both boys regularly smoked each morning as soon as they awoke. It was usually Kim who came to Santiago’s room to crawl into bed with him, getting comfort from the contact. Although neither had been heavily sexually active with each other, there were times when Kim was aroused by the closeness. Early morning and the heat of their bodies when clasped in each other arms had such an effect. The boy would get an erection and Santiago could feel it hard against his back. Sometimes as he held Kim, his hand would stray to the little penis and he would feel it jump to his touch. When this happened his own cock would respond but it never went beyond affectionate play. Santiago was satisfied with holding and caring for the boy and knowing that he too, was needed. On one such morning they lay together for a long while, each comforted and silent. Santiago’s cock was hard as he held Kim’s penis, his other arm wrapped around the boy’s shoulders. This morning they found themselves unable to lie still as they were used to, but rather Kim began to masturbate himself as he turned to Santiago and buried his face against the boy’s chest. The young boy moved his mouth to Santiago’s crotch and took the penis in, sucking on it while he continued to masturbate. After, each slept soundly until it was time to rise.

  They had washed and ate together, then went to the roof for air. There they found Richard, one of the boys with whom they had occasionally spoken and felt comfortable, sitting by himself. Richard was not hard like the other boys, but simple, or so everyone thought.

  “Here,” he said, moving to make room for them. “Take some of this blanket. It’s nice and warm this afternoon. Christ..., I get so fed up with the stale air in there and all that awful smoke.”

  They boys removed their clothing and sunned themselves, their unashamed nakedness being the norm in the peg-house.