The Middle Man [A Broadway Romance]

by Gregory A Kompes

  Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead and they mingled with Sam’s own sweat as my motions picked up speed. I bit at his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his solid body under my own. I moved my legs from between his to the outside, forcing him to bring his own together, tightening his ass around my cock as I thrust faster inside of him.

  “Shit, I’m going to come again,” whispered Sam into the pillow.

  I pushed hard and deep inside of him and stopped moving, waiting for the renewed clench his orgasm would bring around my dick.

  In waves and ripples, Sam’s muscles contracted, his ass like a soft hand around me. That’s when I began again to thrust. I pushed harder into his panting words: “don’t...stop....fuck...me...harder....harder...harder.” I loved the muffled sound of his voice, begging me, encouraging me. I raised my torso off of his, our bodies slick with sweat, and pumped myself into him harder and faster, harder and faster until I collapsed atop of him again, barely able to catch my breath as wave after wave of come shot from me into him.

  I hugged Sam tight to me again, softly kissing my way to his ear, where I nibbled the lobe. I was about to whisper, “I love you,” but something stopped me. It felt like that phrase was done for us. Instead, I said, “good morning.” I could feel his smile, even though I couldn’t see his face. Another shudder passed through my body and then, as inviting as his tight ass had been, it unceremoniously spit me out. We both moaned as it happened.

  When I began to move off of him, he held his arms to mine and in some reverse way, held me pinned on top of him.

  “Not yet. Hold me here just a little longer.”

  I breathed deep the combined scent we’d created in the sheets. It wasn’t his smell or mine, but ours. At the thought, my cock wriggled between Sam’s ass cheeks.

  “Mmmm. Are you ready to go again?”

  I laughed. “Not quite.”

  We remained stuck together with sweat and come as he held me tight to him for a few moments longer.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  It was like déjà vu. Ariel was at the house bright and early with her black lab Patches in tow. Aristotle was always happy to see Patches. I thought to myself: I've always believed that the two pooches held a deep connection similar to the one Ariel and I felt, like we'd known each other in past lives.

  While Ariel waited in the parlor, the two dogs bound up to the second floor to claim me. I hadn't slept since waking up in the middle of the night. The sex with Sam was satisfying. It's a lovely way to start the day. He’d been whistling when he left the house for early rehearsals with the movie star. That joyful sound always made me feel happy.

  "Coming!" I shouted down the stairs. I turned back toward the bedroom—I'd forgotten my watch—and ran into Malcolm. I hadn't heard him come up to me.

  "Sorry, Sir," he said, his eyes bright and cheerful.

  We two stood there, very close, silent. I felt health and wellbeing radiating from the butler. I knew it was going to be a good day.

  Patches and Aristotle made another pass, continuing their circuit from the front hall, up the stairs, down the hall, down the back stairs, through the kitchen and back to the foyer. They were having a great time together.

  Malcolm held out his hands, offered the dog's leash and a tennis ball.

  "Hold on, I need to get my watch."

  "Sure," was all he said.

  I went into the bedroom. Retrieved my pocket watch. Flipped it open. I gave the watch six winds, I checked the date: Tuesday. Somehow, it was a replay of yesterday morning, or what I thought of as yesterday morning. I felt a bit like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. I waited to see what would be the same, what would be different.

  When I turned around, Malcolm blocked my path, holding out the leash and ball for the dog walk. He looked straight into my eyes with an inviting smile.

  I took them, headed out of the room. My team buzzed when I hit the stairs. I ignored them. They buzzed harder when I reached the foyer. The dogs flew past, making another round.

  "Hold on, honey," I said to Ariel. and ran back up the stairs. Malcolm wasn’t there, so I ran up to the third floor where I found him ironing one of my shirts.

  He looked up at me: “Sir?”

  “Are you taking some new drug or pill?”

  Malcolm searched my face. “Yes, an herbal thing that’s supposed to be good for Mad Cow disease. It’s from somewhere in South America. Chile maybe? Sam gave them to me, said his grandfather used them.”

  “You’ve got to stop taking it. That’s what’s been making you sick.”

  “What about the memory loss?”

  “Malcolm, you’re well now. We took care of that together. You’ve got to stop taking those pills. You’ve got to start thinking of yourself as healthy. Do you understand me?”

  “Of course. I’ll throw them away right now.”

  I listened to my team for further instructions, but they didn’t offer any. “Good.” I smiled. We stood in an awkward silence. I realized I still had the ball and leash in my hands. “Okay, we’re off to the park.”

  “Very good, Sir.”

  I took the stairs two at a time, feeling light and young. As I approached the foyer, there wasn’t any buzzing from my team.

  Ariel got up and rushed to me, kissed my cheek. "You look great, Duke!" Ariel hugged me tight. "Well rested. Did you color your hair?"

  I touched my temple. "Oh, strangest thing. I got up last night...woke up in the middle of the night. When I got a drink of water I was, well, like this." I realized as I said the words, that wasn’t what had happened on this Tuesday morning, but instead on the “lost” one.

  "It's like you've turned back time or something. Like you've had surgery."

  The dogs rushed up, panting. They sat, obedient, waiting for leashes.

  "Come on, I need to be out of this house," I said, clicking Aristotle's leash in place. Ariel did the same for Patches and we four headed out.

  "Duke? Are you okay?" Ariel asked, stopping short on the street.

  I waited for a replay. Watched Ariel. No change. My team was silent.

  "I'm good, Ariel." The tension that had crept into my shoulders eased and we headed toward the park. I contemplated telling her about my "Groundhog Day" experiences, but I didn't see the point. I didn't want to freak her out or upset her. I stayed in the moment instead. We stopped at the corner vendor cart for coffee; proceeded to the park in our usual routine.

  My world had changed. None of it made sense anymore. So many things were exactly the same. Here we were, sitting in the dog park, throwing the ball over and over for our exuberant dogs. My boyfriend loved me. My butler was happy and healthy. My father was still alive and I’d made peace with him and Lola. Yet, I had experienced a shift in time. I relived nearly 24 hours of my life, both instances very different from the other, yet still framed in the same way.

  It bothered me that my team had taken over, that they took control of my friend. It's one thing for them to have some impact or control on my life, but to take over that of others around me caused some fear in me. While it all had turned out well this time, the time had been clicked back enough so that none of them remembered the experience, none of them lost any time in the process; I still wondered what the impact of this moment meant or could mean.

  I listened in my head, waiting for my team to offer some explanation or input.

  "Duke?" Ariel placed her hand on my arm. "Are you okay?"

  "Sorry, dear, just lost in thought. It's been an amazing time lately."

  "Are you feeling okay? I mean, after the hospital and that strange scene yesterday at the bar. I'm worried about you."

  That was just yesterday. What about the party I’d been to? The conversation with Lola? Harry’s pronouncement and that amazing kiss? "I don't think there's any need for concern, but I have to admit that I'm still trying to get my head around all the experiences I've had lately." Aristotle dropped the saliva covered ball in my lap. I picked it up, threw it to the other end of the
dog run, wiped my hand on my pants. We watched our dogs chase the ball. My dog would repeat that action until he passed out if I wasn't careful. He loved chasing tennis balls; it was practically a vocation.

  When he returned for another pass, both Aristotle and Patches were panting hard.

  "I think it's time for a drink," Ariel said to our boys. She led the way to the water fountain, pressed the button. The dog bowl at the bottom of the post filled and the dogs nudged each other into position so they could both drink at the same time.

  I watched my friend smile at the dogs, cooing to them. "Oh, you're good boys. That tastes good, huh?" on and on she went, smiling and laughing all the while.

  This felt good. This moment felt normal. I wondered if that's how I would judge things now. This feels good and normal, this feels other worldly. This feels…

  My team remained silent.

  With the passing of days, I felt lost in reflection and it had grown tiring. I didn't want to keep replaying recent events. I wanted something new, something exciting, something interesting or different in my life. And, that got me thinking about Harry.

  Sam's current schedule had him rehearsing Little Shop during the day and playing Fiddler at night. In a few weeks, he'd be back to just playing shows, but for now, he worked constantly.

  It was lonely in the house. Malcolm puttered away, as he always did. He remained available to me, that was his job, but I didn't seem to need much. We were in our routine, such as it was.

  What now? I wondered. Things in Pedros' country were moving forward well. The people were happy. That piece of the world had changed, for the moment, for the better. I’d finally been in contact with my group of misfit leaders; they were all doing well. Life was quiet. I'd had moments like this before, when no one needed my services. They were, I'd discovered over the years, the perfect times for travel. I considered some options. A museum trip to Europe, maybe Paris or Rome would be nice. Sam told me he'd never been to Italy; he wanted to see the works of Botticelli in person. Yet, he was working nonstop now; a trip was out of the question. I could go alone, of course, but that wasn't the way I wanted to do the next trip. I'd traveled the world, mostly alone, and now I had a boyfriend who didn't seem to be going anywhere, despite my team’s urging that I dump him. For the moment, my days of single travel were finished.

  Seeing shows and movies, getting caught up on the art scene in New York was a possibility. I wasn't in the mood to sit in a dark room with lots of other people. One of the difficult things about New York is that it's almost impossible to have an experience in a public space alone. There are millions of people in our fair city, there's always someone else wherever you go.

  Nothing satisfied me; no thought seemed like just the right one. I'd tasted something unusual, something that changed my perspective. Now, here I was, fearful of it happening again, and yet somehow longing for it to happen again. No matter what or how I asked them, my team of spirit guides remained quiet. There was no one for me to turn to. There was no place to find answers or explanation for the experiences I'd had.

  "Sir," Malcolm said from the door. I looked from my thoughts. "Mr. Donovan and Miss Lola are here."

  "I'll come down,"

  They were pleasant and cheerful, not the usual attitudes I'd come to know.

  "Duke," said Lola, glowing. She rushed to me, saw the look of fear on my face, slowed her pace. We hugged. I could feel the heavy lipstick she left on my cheek with her kiss.

  I shook my father's hand, he pulled me to him and hugged me.

  "Duke, I don't know how to thank you," my father said.

  I ushered them into the parlor. Malcolm arrived with a tray of drinks.

  "Pop, there's no need for thanks. I just—"

  "Of course there's a need for thanks," he said with a big smile. "You saved my life. What can I do for you?" He was happy and sincere.

  "There's something I need to tell you," I waited for them to both look at me. "I have it on good authority that if you don't change your ways you'll end up right back where you were."

  "See," said Lola, "I told you no more drinking or smoking, no more red meat."

  "What's the point in living?" My father said with a smile.

  "No, it's not like that. Those things don't actually cause the problems." I lit a cigarette to add punctuation. "No, you need to change your mind set. You need to say your mantra often—"

  "I'm in perfect health," my father dutifully said.

  "And, you need to stop being so judgmental of everyone and everything. Just live your own life and allow others to do the same. It's the hardest part of all of this. But, it's the key, the true key to finding happiness and good health. And, I think it’s time you get in touch with Neil. It’s been too long since you’ve talked to your other son." I ended my lecture. My team telling me that that was all I could offer. The choice to live that life or not was up to him, up to them. The decision to reach out to my brother and draw him back into our lives, that was also up to him.

  We spent the next hour together drinking, talking, smoking, finding a new foundation for our own relationship. I knew, from my dad's words and actions, that he was trying to change. The ball was now in his court, I could only hope, that like my dog, my father would turn chasing that ball into his own calling.

  I longed to ask Lola about the party. Had it actually happened? She never mentioned it and in the end neither did I, content enough at the thought and memory of it.

  "Sir," Malcolm said from the door. He held the cell phone. "It's Dr. Sandy."

  I took the phone, "Duke Donovan." I listened to his request, that I come down for some tests. He and his medical group were curious. I asked my team. "I'm sorry Sandy, I don't think that's possible," I told him. We rang off.

  They wouldn't find anything out of the ordinary. I was healthy and fit. I'd made that happen by tapping into Source Energy, the true stream and cause of life for all of us. It dawned on me in that moment. Because I acted as the middleman, all I have to do to help someone else heal themselves is help them tap into that same energy. I only needed to be a conduit for them to heal directly from Source themselves. I wanted to find someone to try this on, someone who needed help.

  I knocked on Emma May Johnson's door. It took her some time, but she finally appeared.

  "Duke, how lovely to see you." Emma May sized me up. "It's strange, but you seem younger."

  "I'm feeling pretty good. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes?" I felt sheepish in her presence. I still didn’t know for sure if she was a person in physical or a ghost. She’d appeared both ways to me over the past few weeks.

  "Of course, of course," she said, ushering me into her home. "I don't get too many visitors these days."

  I followed her slow progress into the front living room. Her home was very clean, but very dark. All her blinds were drawn. There was the smell of years of cooked cabbage and many tubes of Ben Gay. The smells and dark reminded me of my own grandmother's home near the end of her life.

  "I'm only living on this floor these days. The stairs are much too difficult to manage anymore." She pointed a short, spindly, wrinkled finger toward an old couch with doilies on the arms. "Sit."

  "Miss Johnson," I began, "I've had some amazing experiences the past few days. I know you've got psychic connections, too, and I was wondering if I might talk to you some about your own experiences."

  The old woman was still getting settled into a deep, plush, well-worn chair. I waited for her, not wanting to rush her process.

  "Well, Duke, I haven't gone as deep as you have. I can tell what you've been up to. My angels, they're filling me in now. I've never ventured to the places you have. I just see and hear some things, my angels, they keep me safe, they keep me informed. They're telling me now that you want to offer me something, but they're not sharing. They say it's up to you."

  Someone once told me a joke about how there aren't any secrets in a room of psychics. I've never felt that was actually true. Our guide
s, our teams, our angels, they only share with us information we're ready to have. They rarely seem to reveal everything all at one time.

  "I have figured out how healing happens. I don't know the math or science of it, but I've been able to heal myself, my father, and Malcolm, my butler. I had a realization today that I could help you, if you were interested."

  Emma May sat in silence for a long time, her eyes focused intensely on me.

  "Duke, I've lived a very long time. I've enjoyed my life. I helped lots of little babies grow up to be adults who know how to read and add. I've gone to church and loved God. I've listened to my angels. And, I've always felt that when it was my time to go, I'd happily go off to the great beyond. I'm not afraid of death. I'm not working hard to get their quick, mind you, but I also think that it's best for me to just stay on my path, take things as the Good Lord sees fit for them to come."

  I felt disappointed.

  "I know, dear, you were hoping to use me, the old lady from across the street, to try something new. I wouldn't mind getting around easier, that's for sure. But, I don't think I can face another lifetime. My friends, they've all moved on to the great beyond. I don't want to start over. I hope you understand." Emma May offered a warm smile to me, one of friendship.

  I wasn't sure what to say. I hadn't contemplated the idea that this feeble woman wouldn't want relief from her pain. “May I ask you a question? It’s going to sound strange?”

  Her eyes twinkled a brilliant green. “Psychic teleportation. It’s a bit like remote viewing, only you also project yourself into the physical space. That’s how I came to your party the other night.”

  I thought about her response to my unvoiced question. “So, there was a party the other night?”

  “Yes, it was lovely and lively. When something is going on that I want to see or if there’s an event I want to attend, I simply leave my physical body here in my favorite chair and attend the event in spirit.”