Victor J. Banis

by Deadly Nightshade

  But he liked pussy, and that was where you found it. The rest, you just had to go through to get to the end result, so to speak. It was what they wanted of a man, expected, if they were going to give him what he was after.

  He liked Stanley, too, just not the same way. He liked the fact of Stanley well enough. It was the facts of him that were wrong. The physical facts, for starters. Okay, Stanley had kind of a cute butt. Not like most guys had. Stanley’s was round and pouty, and at a glance, it could pass for a woman’s butt.

  The problem was, on the other side of that butt, he stuck out in all the wrong places. His chest, where he should have stuck out, was flat, and where there should have been a warm, moist valley, there was a definite hello.

  He’d told Stanley, back when they’d first partnered up, that he wasn’t a philosopher. His conscious thinking was mostly focused on his current case, and getting laid. He didn’t think much about what kind of life he led, or what kind of person he was. He was a cop. Cops didn’t think about it, they did. If someone was pointing a gun at you, taking time to think could get you killed.

  When he did think about stuff, though, as he had been doing a bit more of late, he had a funny kind of feeling that maybe there wasn’t a lot there, behind the badge and the gun and the dick, like maybe he was missing some central core that other people had—which would explain a lot about the way his life had gone.

  But when he thought about that, it seemed as if maybe that was what Stanley had offered him, something central, something fundamental. That missing core. Only, was Stanley the core he wanted? Maybe he was better off empty than filled with the wrong stuffing. Plus, there were too many issues that couldn’t be resolved, the way he saw it. That sex shit. It was always going to be there. Always going to be a problem.

  After a while, they’d hate it, wouldn’t they? They’d hate one another. He didn’t want Stanley hating him.

  Especially, he didn’t want that.

  He let himself out the front door of the apartment building. He was on Sutter, not far from downtown. A depressing kind of neighborhood, really, although it must have been kind of upscale at one time. The apartment buildings, lining both sides of the block, looked old and weary, but they must have been younger once. Everything had been younger once.

  His pickup was down the street. He walked to it, opening a stick of gum as he went and popping it into his mouth. He paused with the key in the lock, looking up and down the street indecisively.

  The Castro?

  § § § § §

  Stanley and Chris were at a bar in the Castro, not talking much. Stanley had told him some of it, not all.

  He felt sure Chris could guess the rest. Luckily, you didn’t need to spell everything out for an old friend.

  “Incoming at three o’clock,” Chris said.

  Stanley looked in the direction Chris had indicated. A tall, lanky looking guy, cowboy-type, had come in from the street. He ambled up to the bar, ordered a beer, looked around—and grinned at Stanley.

  “Plus, he’s cute,” Chris said.

  He was, too. Another time… “Yeah. I guess so,” Stanley said.

  “You guess so?” Chris narrowed his eyes at him. “It’s the Neanderthal. Right?”

  “Tom? He’s an asshole.”

  “So then why are you mooning over him this way?”

  “I’m not mooning. Anyway, he’s an asshole with possibilities.”

  “Like, you’re going to save him from, what? From himself?”

  “From asshole-dom. He’s not happy there. I know he’s not. The man’s life could be so much better, if he just…” He bit off the rest of what he’d been going to say, clamped his lips tightly shut.

  “If he married Stanley Korski and settled into gay domesticity? That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? It’s the way your marital-oriented little mind always works. You wanted to marry me. Which would have been incest, for Pete’s sake.”

  Stanley finished off his beer, took his keys from the bartop. “Look, you know, I think I’ll call it a night.”

  “And do what?”

  “Go home. Go to bed. Alone,” he added for emphasis.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s ten o’clock, on a Saturday night. This is the Castro. It’s illegal to go home to bed alone at ten o’clock on a Saturday night. Anyway, you’ve got a cast on your arm.”

  “My left arm,” Stanley said. “Doesn’t interfere with the homework.”

  “You know, Sweetie, I remember something I read once, in a novel, I don’t remember which one, but the author said there are wolves that run with the pack and there are lone wolves. Some guys are born to be lone wolves, Stanley. You can’t change them.”

  Stanley seemed to consider that for a moment. He smiled faintly and leaned close to give Chris’s cheek a peck. “You have fun. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He gave the lanky cowboy a quick, dismissive wave with his good hand as he went past him and headed out of the bar. The cowboy looked briefly disappointed, and quickly looked around for someone else. Chris smiled at him. No point in wasting a Saturday night. The cowboy smiled back, and moseyed along the bar.

  Stanley paused outside. The sidewalks were crowded, a constant parade of guys and fewer girls strolling in both directions. Stanley watched the show for a moment, aware that one or two of the passersby looked him over.

  He’d spoken earlier of the emptiness of Tom’s life, what it lacked. But maybe Chris was right, maybe with Tom it wasn’t entirely a question of gay or straight, maybe he was simply one of those lone wolves.

  And what about his own life? He couldn’t just at the moment pretend it was altogether happy either, and he didn’t think of himself as a lone wolf. Though it did seem things ended up that way a lot.

  Inside, with the noise and lights of the bar, with Chris and a cute cowboy giving him the eye, he’d managed to keep the reason for his unhappiness at bay, carefully walled off. Now, alone in the crowds that thronged the sidewalk, the walls crumbled, a triumphant Tom Danzel leapt the moat, took possession of the citadel of his thoughts and emotions.

  His frightened thoughts and emotions, that scattered in panic from the invader. At least the conqueror would find no prisoners there to torture into telling him the truth—who could even point to where the truth lay. That was something even Stanley himself didn’t know.

  When they had been together, Stanley had known clearly that he was in love with Tom. He could not now pinpoint when that exact moment had occurred, but he was sure, or nearly sure, that there had been one.

  More than one.

  What he was entirely sure of, though, was that he also hated Tom, clearly, unquestionably, hated him for not being that ghost-love that had haunted him, it seemed, all his life, luring him into bars and parties, into relationships that even as he began them he knew were not the relationship, were doomed to failure. The ghost that mocked him from the shadows even as he consummated each doomed marriage. And, yes, honestly, there had been some moments in their relationship when it had seemed that he had found, at last, what he had been looking for, in Tom’s arms.

  Someone bumped into him, mumbled a quick, “Sorry,” jarring him from his thoughts, sending the ghosts back into their shadows. Without the ghosts, though, he felt all at loose ends. He wanted… but, that was the problem, he didn’t know what he wanted. Exactly.

  Or maybe he did, exactly. Only, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to get it. Tom had made that plenty clear, hadn’t he? And he was right. Probably.

  Across the street, a thin crowd of people began to drift out of the Castro Theater. He checked the marquee: The Letter. He loved that movie. He thought of Bette Davis, kneeling on the floor, rolling those eyes, “No, with all my heart, I still love the man I killed.”

  Maybe I should have killed him, he thought. Maybe I should have let Tanya shoot him. I could spend years eloquently mourning my lost love, and who could deny my claims?

  He looked down Castro Street, and spotted a pair
of broad shoulders, moving in the direction of 17th Street. For a moment, he almost followed them.

  For what? he asked himself. They were the wrong shoulders, whoever they belonged to. He turned up the collar of his windbreaker. It had begun to rain, fat drops that fell randomly, some here, some there, like the wind had confused them. The arm in the cast had begun to itch where he couldn’t get to it.

  All of a sudden, for no reason that he could fathom, his father popped into his head, with that disappointed look that had become his everyday expression.

  Well, we’re all of us disappointed, aren’t we, Pop? Stanley asked himself. Some of us just have to fucking deal with it.

  He started for his apartment. The rain came down harder. People put up umbrellas or ran for doorways.

  He reached the corner, waited for the Walk sign. A steady stream of cars sped by, flinging up spray, lights glittering on raindrops.

  The Walk sign came on but he continued to stand where he was. A crowd came up from the Muni station behind him, people jostling him in their haste to get across the street. On the other side, The Peaks was crowded, he could hear the voices and the music spilling out the door.

  He looked in the direction of 17th Street. The shoulders had long since vanished. What was he thinking, anyway? They were hardly likely to be Tom’s. And even if they were, what could that mean? A lone wolf didn’t change his spots. Did he?

  No, that was a leopard. A lone wolf—well, who knew what they did? Or didn’t do?

  He sighed, and turned and began to walk down Castro toward 17th, not so much following the shoulders as an old dream, one that just wasn’t ready yet to die.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lecturer, former writing instructor and early rabble-rouser for gay rights and freedom of the press, VICTOR

  J. BANIS is the critically acclaimed author (“…a master storyteller” Publishers Weekly) of more than 150 published novels and nonfiction works, and his verse and short pieces have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. His novel Longhorns (Carroll and Graf) was picked as best gay romance of the 2007 on AfterElton.com. His latest novel, Lola Dances, was published by MLR Press in March, 2008. Next up, Deadly Nightshade, MLR Press, summer 2008. Visit Victor at his website http://www.vjbanis.com.

  MLR PRESS AUTHORS

  Featuring a roll call of some of the best writers of gay erotica and mysteries today!

  Maura Anderson

  Victor J. Banis

  Jeanne Barrack

  Laura Baumbach

  Alex Beecroft

  Sarah Black

  Ally Blue

  J.P. Bowie

  P.A. Brown

  James Buchanan

  Jordan Castillo Price

  Kit Cheng

  Kirby Crow

  Dick D.

  Jason Edding

  Angela Fiddler

  Dakota Flint

  Kimberly Gardner

  Storm Grant

  Amber Green

  LB Gregg

  Drewey Wayne Gunn

  Samantha Kane

  Kiernan Kelly

  JL Langley

  Josh Lanyon

  Clare London

  William Maltese

  Gary Martine

  ZA Maxfield

  Jet Mykles

  L. Picaro

  Neil Plakcy

  Luisa Prieto

  AM Riley

  George Seaton

  Jardonn Smith

  Caro Soles

  Richard Stevenson

  Claire Thompson

  Check out titles, both available and forthcoming, at www.mlrpress.com THE TREVOR PROJECT

  The Trevor Project operates the only nationwide, around-the-clock crisis and suicide prevention helpline for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning youth. Every day, The Trevor Project saves lives though its free and confidential helpline, its website and its educational services. If you or a friend are feeling lost or alone call The Trevor Helpline. If you or a friend are feeling lost, alone, confused or in crisis, please call The Trevor Helpline. You’ll be able to speak confidentially with a trained counselor 24/7.

  The Trevor Helpline: 866-488-7386

  On the Web: http://www.thetrevorproject.org/

  THE GAY MEN’S DOMESTIC VIOLENCE PROJECT

  Founded in 1994, The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project is a grassroots, non-profit organization founded by a gay male survivor of domestic violence and developed through the strength, contributions and participation of the community. The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project supports victims and survivors through education, advocacy and direct services. Understanding that the serious public health issue of domestic violence is not gender specific, we serve men in relationships with men, regardless of how they identify, and stand ready to assist them in navigating through abusive relationships.

  GMDVP Helpline: 800.832.1901

  On the Web: http://gmdvp.org/

  THE GAY & LESBIAN ALLIANCE AGAINST DEFAMATION/GLAAD EN ESPAÑOL

  The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) is dedicated to promoting and ensuring fair, accurate and inclusive representation of people and events in the media as a means of eliminating homophobia and discrimination based on gender identity and sexual orientation.

  On the Web:

  http://www.glaad.org/

  GLAAD en español:

  http://www.glaad.org/espanol/bienvenido.php

  SERVICEMEMBERS LEGAL DEFENSE NETWORK

  Servicemembers Legal Defense Network is a nonpartisan, nonprofit, legal services, watchdog and policy organization dedicated to ending discrimination against and harassment of military personnel affected by

  “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (DADT).The SLDN provides free, confidential legal services to all those impacted by DADT and related discrimination. Since 1993, its inhouse legal team has responded to more than 9,000 requests for assistance. In Congress, it leads the fight to repeal DADT and replace it with a law that ensures equal treatment for every servicemember, regardless of sexual orientation. In the courts, it works to challenge the constitutionality of DADT.

  SLDN

  Call: (202) 328-3244

  PO Box 65301

  or (202) 328-FAIR

  Washington DC 20035-5301

  e-mail: sldn@sldn.org

  On the Web: http://sldn.org/

  THE GLBT NATIONAL HELP CENTER

  The GLBT National Help Center is a nonprofit, tax-exempt organization that is dedicated to meeting the needs of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community and those questioning their sexual orientation and gender identity. It is an outgrowth of the Gay & Lesbian National Hotline, which began in 1996 and now is a primary program of The GLBT National Help Center. It offers several different programs including two national hotlines that help members of the GLBT community talk about the important issues that they are facing in their lives. It helps end the isolation that many people feel, by providing a safe environment on the phone or via the internet to discuss issues that people can’t talk about anywhere else. The GLBT National Help Center also helps other organizations build the infrastructure they need to provide strong support to our community at the local level.

  National Hotline: 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)

  National Youth Talkline 1-800-246-PRIDE (1-800-246-7743)

  On the Web: http://www.glnh.org/

  e-mail: info@glbtnationalhelpcenter.org

  If you’re a GLBT and questioning student heading off to university, should know that there are resources on campus for you. Here’s just a sample:

  US LOCAL GLBT COLLEGE CAMPUS ORGANIZATIONS

  http://dv-8.com/resources/us/local/campus.html

  GLBT Scholarship Resources

  http://tinyurl.com/6fx9v6

  Syracuse University

  http://lgbt.syr.edu/

  Texas A&M

  http://glbt.tamu.edu/

  Tulane University

  http://www.oma.tulane.edu/LGBT/Default.htm

 
University of Alaska

  http://www.uaf.edu/agla/

  University of California, Davis

  http://lgbtrc.ucdavis.edu/

  University of California, San Francisco

  http://lgbt.ucsf.edu/

  University of Colorado

  http://www.colorado.edu/glbtrc/

  University of Florida

  http://www.dso.ufl.edu/multicultural/lgbt/

  University of Hawaiÿi, Mānoa

  http://manoa.hawaii.edu/lgbt/

  University of Utah

  http://www.sa.utah.edu/lgbt/

  University of Virginia

  http://www.virginia.edu/deanofstudents/lgbt/

  Vanderbilt University

  http://www.vanderbilt.edu/lgbtqi/

  Document Outline

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