by Kage Alan
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16
The words fantastic, satisfying and relaxing don't even come close to describing the nine days of pure hell and cold showers I went through during my spring break. I thought Alan might only be kidding about not seeing me, but he turned out to be true to his word. To make matters worse, the one time I did call over to his house shortly after I arrived home, I could hear his brother in the background thanking him again and again for the awesome Samantha Fox posters now hanging in his room. My awesome Samantha Fox posters!
So, what did I do? My days began early, shortly before my father left for work. It always irked him that I didn't have any classes before eleven a.m., and especially because he knew I knew it irked him and I enjoyed it. So, when I was home for breaks like this and not working, it became my job to rise from bed at seven a.m., have my tea then take Kira for a long walk. I loved Kira, but she was a bitch. Her blue eye seemed to say “I love you...” while the brown eye finished the sentence with “to serve me.” Typical husky.
I'd take a shower after returning home, eat some break-fast, start laundry or whatever household chores had to be done, then it was time to join in the time-honored tradition of “running a few errands” with Mom. I've loathed this since high school because it always started with “I need to stop by the cleaners, then F and M and Oakridge Market, then we'll come home.” It sounded simple enough, but what she neglected to mention were all the places in between. “Since we're out, we can stop by Switzerland and pick up some chocolate, then Paris for some croissants and Japan for dessert.” Yes, it's a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point.
Aside from that, I did get to spend some quality time with Mable and apologize for telling her that her bike tires would explode if she didn't replace the summer air with winter air. Of course, I felt it was my duty to warn her that since she had changed the air, she would also now need to change it again in the spring or the tires would implode. The frostbite had healed nicely, and she warmed up to me easily enough when she saw I'd rented her Madman, The Curse—with Wil Wheaton in a fabulous underwear shot—and Near Dark. She made us some grilled cheese sandwiches and hot chocolate with assorted colored marshmallows, then we sat down to watch bloodshed. Life was good.
Mom and Dad asked me several times how the semester was coming along, if I felt I was doing well in my classes, what my future plans were and, oh, yes, did I want to talk to a counselor about my strange behavior over the past few months? Oh, how I just wanted to spill a few details about my life. The only problem with that was if Alan did actually stop by, they'd never leave us alone. How was a kid supposed to score if his parents wouldn't leave because they were afraid he was going to have sex? Where was the logic in that? It's not like I could get pregnant.
Maybe I should just come clean to them. Wouldn't that be easier than having them force the issue later in life? After all, it wasn't like I was going to be bringing any sorority girls home ... ever. Why not just come out and say it? How bad could it be to just come out and say “Mom and Dad, I'm gay"?
* * * *
"I just can't believe it!” Mom screamed. “My son ... my only son ... a..."
"Don't say it, Mom,” I pleaded. “If it causes you that much pain, then don't say it. Maybe you just aren't ready to face the reality yet."
"Boy,” my father bellowed, “as a police officer, I deal with harsh reality every day, but this ... If the guys at the station ever got wind of this, it'll be all over for me. How could you do this to us?"
"Do this to you?” I was getting angry. “How do you think I feel? This isn't a picnic for me, either."
"I could handle you being a ... a ... Republican, even ... well, maybe ... hopefully not.” She burst out crying. “Just not a ... comedian."
"Comedian?” Was she joking? “What? That's not what I said. I told you I was..."
"We heard what you said.” My father stood up and in one swift motion had me pinned against the wall. He then slowly lifted me up off of the ground with one hand and breathed his dad-breath in my face. “You're jovial. The only things jovial people ever amount to besides second-rate MTV game show hosts and those really strange singing telegram weirdoes who dance and try to rhyme words that don't really rhyme are comedians! Do you want that? Do you think your mother and I want that?"
"Of course not, but that isn't what I said I—"
"Make your mother laugh,” he growled.
"What?" I all but screamed. Like that could happen! “How am I supposed to do that? Have you ever even figured out what makes her laugh?"
His response was to lift me up even higher off the ground.
"You have to ask yourself one question. Do I feel funny today? Well, do you, laughing boy?"
* * * *
I woke up startled and agitated, especially with the dawning realization that Alan might actually be right about one specific part of my life that he had no business being right about.
"I do have issues!” My God, I'd hardly ever been able to make my mother laugh.
* * * *
I spent the rest of my vacation sketching out scenes for my story and listening to my mother remind me that I needed to keep studying, that knowledge was power. Yes, well, I knew I was gay. How exactly was that helping me?
Fortunately, the weather outside had suddenly turned unseasonably warm, so I didn't mind walking Kira as much, especially since I could take a break from the power of knowledge. Also, because I wasn't spending the entire time concentrating on moving as quickly as I could to escape the bitter cold, I was able to brainstorm ideas and run scenarios through my mind with little bits of dialogue.
The basic plot and premise mirrored the events of last summer, but I wanted to change little things so that no one knew I was really writing about myself. For instance, I never called Grandma by her first name. Her brothers and in-laws referred to her either by an abbreviated version of her name or a nickname. I did, however, leave in the drinking part, which was probably a dead giveaway. Jordan remained Jordan because it suited him, the locations remained the same, the beach bit was intact as was the club...
Okay, I didn't change too much at all. The innocent would remain the innocent and the guilty would definitely come after me. None of that mattered, though. Gonad-Grinder Gevaultski would have her real-life drama and I would have my grade.
I knew that my story would be about coming to terms with being gay, but where would it climax? There was nothing like a damn fine finish. Life didn't always have riveting endings, though. Sometimes a story ended on a soft note and the promise of more adventure to come. Endings could be beautiful that way. Then, too, looking at my current situation, they could also be a real pisser!
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17
The first mistake I made ... No, that's not even close to being accurate. The latest mistake ... Nope, that's not quite right, either. Let me try this again.
Of the many and numerous mistakes I've made and will continue to make in life, I made yet one more by going back to school a day early.
There we go.
Most of the students were coming back on Sunday, but I wanted the peace and quiet necessary to dedicate some time to the actual writing of the story and not just the sketches I'd been working on. It was a great plan, too, but there was one minor hitch.
"I'm going to make all your dreams come true tonight,” Tristan informed me when I picked up the phone. How did he know I was back early?
"You're being castrated?” I didn't skip a beat.
"Better.” He laughed.
"Lobotomized?"
"Someone's cranky from repression tonight.” He didn't give me a chance to respond to that one. Actually, I don't know what I would have said because I was feeling a little repressed. I missed my Alan! “A friend of mine managed to rent a place for a few hours tonight, and we're invited to ... help each other discover what it means to be gay. I figured that since you got back to school early and I promised to take
you to something like this, tonight would be the perfect time for it. What do you say?"
"What time are you going to pick me up?"
That was my next mistake.
* * * *
I completely forgot to ask what I should wear and how much money I was supposed to bring with me. Oh, well. I'd make an educated guess and hope for the best because this evening would be really cool! Actually, it wasn't cool in a cold sense, since it was warm enough outside to only have to wear a light jacket. The evening would be cool in an excitement sense, since I'd get to meet other gay people, ask them questions, share my experiences and maybe even network a little.
Tristan picked me up around ten, which struck me as a bit late for a social gathering. They didn't meet at a bar, did they? He said a friend of his rented a place. What kind of a place rented this late at night, and on a Saturday to boot?
Well, I'd find out soon enough as his Grand Prix—a Prix for a prick—raced along until we got to the freeway; then it raced along some more until we entered an area of the city I'd never been in before. I think we were somewhere in the downtown area by the looks of things, though.
"Busy night down here,” I remarked. Tristan had been pretty silent during the trip, and I wasn't sure if he was trying to be respectful of the tentative truce between us or if he was just biding his time.
"I suppose.” He nodded. “A lot of people come down here for the theatre houses. I think there's a play in one of the buildings near where we're going to be, so it might be a little hectic driving home. Guess we'll just have to stay a little later to avoid the traffic.” Plays ran this late? “Here. This is it."
He pulled into a parking area behind a number of buildings, which I assumed to be businesses.
"Now, when we go in, just remember to keep an open mind. If you don't, then there's really no point in you being here."
"Okay.” I could tell by the tone of his voice that he really believed what he was saying. That was good enough for me, at least for the moment. “After you."
We got out of the car and headed towards one of the backdoors. Tristan went in first, and I followed. Whatever it was I had expected—and I had no expectations—it wasn't ... what I expected.
I'd thought at first that maybe it was some back room in a bar or restaurant. Instead, I found myself standing in a small room with a man and a cash register. There was a door behind him, and where it led remained to be seen. Tristan greeted him and whispered something with a smile. The man nodded, handed us two small white towels and ushered us in.
Again I followed, and soon discovered that this doorway led to a locker room. There was a doorway on the opposite side of the room that probably led to the main area of the place and yet another door on one of the other walls.
"Is this a gym or something?” I asked.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that ... a lot of gay men come here to work out.” Tristan turned and faced me. “This is one of those times I told you about in the car. Just do what I say and ask questions later.” I nodded that I understood. “Take all your clothes off, put them in one of the lockers and put the towel around you."
I opened my mouth to tell him just where he could stick his towel and mine, too, but he narrowed his eyes and I realized I was doing exactly what I told him I wouldn't do.
"Okay.” I remained, reluctantly, but quickly and methodically stripped down to my bare essentials. He already knew what I looked like, but I made sure not to show him any more than I had to before wrapping the towel around me. “So, people work out just in one of these?"
He seemed annoyed that I was asking questions again, so I smiled and shrugged it off.
"I just thought they'd be a little uneasy about lifting on a bench and someone staring up their towel."
"Not this kind of working out."
"Oh.” So, it was one of those flakey gyms. Not only were they into the whole health thing, but they also believed in working out naturally to boot.
I put my keys, license and the few dollars I'd brought with me deep inside one of my shoes then stacked all my clothes neatly on top. Thank God, I didn't bring an entire wallet or more money, since Tristan hadn't bothered to tell me to bring a lock. He could have at least mentioned that to me.
"So, where is everybody?"
"They're spread out. This isn't one big gym like you're used to.” Tristan was wrapping his towel around his waist, though it was hung far lower than I would have been comfortable with. A little too much was suggested, but then, that was his personality. “There are a number of rooms here, and each generally has something unique going on. The guys here either work out or socialize or whatever, so I'd suggest that you roam around first and check things out. I'll catch up with you when you've had a chance to see what's going on."
I took this as my cue to start exploring. He said that there were a number of rooms here, so I had no real way of knowing just how large the building really was. I'd never heard of a place like this before, and for such an openminded establishment to be operating in West Michigan struck me as a little ironic.
I noticed a couple of dispensing machines on my way out of the locker room and figured it had to be health bars or fruit juices or something like that, only they were condoms: ribbed, lubricated, non-lubricated, colored and something called Titan. Safe sports? Risk-free recreation? Disease-free drills? Weird.
There was a long hall on the opposite side of the room from where we came in, and I went that way. Several doors lined either side all the way down, maybe ten or twelve in total. A few of them were wide open and had, from what I could see in the dim lighting, people in them while the others were closed. If I was going to lift weights or use a ski machine or anything like that, I'd want to see what I was doing so I didn't hurt myself.
Another room at the end of the hall turned out to be far better lit and also had gym equipment in it. The place must not bring in a lot of money because this stuff wasn't exactly state-of-the-art.
There were two guys standing around eyeing a weight bench that nobody was currently using. They stared at me when I walked in, and I guessed they were in their early thirties, a crowd I didn't expect someone like Tristan to run with. I mean, did men over the age of thirty still even have sex? They were pretty buff, though, and downright handsome in that rugged sort of way, so maybe that appealed to Tristan's shallow side.
"Are you our trainer for the night?” one of them asked me with a slight smile while the other started scratching underneath his towel. Somebody apparently hadn't showered today.
"No, I'm just here with a friend from school.” I returned the smile. “Actually, I shouldn't call him a friend because he's not exactly the type of person I'd want as a friend. He's a ho, really, so ... not so much of a friend. And definitely not someone you'd ever want to compromise with. Offer him an inch, and he'll try to give you six and a half. Still, he's trying to be nice by bringing me here to work it ... well, work out.” I eyed the bench, half-hoping they'd get the idea I wanted to use it and would therefore step away. After all, if they weren't going to do a rep, there was no reason I couldn't.
"Do you like it on a weight bench?” the other one asked.
"I'm not exactly used to it, but it's certainly better than laying around on my back all day when I'm not in class.” I hated to admit that I was lazy. “A guy on my floor gave me a hell of a workout a month or so ago."
"Really?” Now they were both scratching. Was this place sanitary? Did somebody forget to add bleach when they did the laundry?
"Oh, yeah. I walked right up to him and demanded that he bring on the pain. I wanted it as hard as he could make it and as long as he could give it, which was hopefully also as long as I could take it. I hate not being able to finish."
"Did you?"
These guys had a rather noticeable problem now. Their scratching had left them with a bit of a tent pole. Wasn't that only supposed to happen in the showers, and shouldn't they be trying to hide it?
"Damn right, I did,” I continue
d, and tried to ignore their ... distractions. “I could barely walk for three days, but I showed him a thing or two."
"How would you like to show us?” Both of them removed their towels, and one stood in front of the bench while the other stood at the rear.
"Oh, hell, no.” Sure, they were eye-candy, but I had a boyfriend, and this had to be against the rules here. “I mean, you're both really thick...” Thick? “Well, thick like a prick ... brick ... as in built like a dick shithouse. A prick shithouse.” Here I went again. “Built like a brick shithouse. What I'm trying to say is that you have muscles and they look hard as a cock ... rock.” Just ... shut ... up. “Aw, fuck me!” I was exasperated then saw them move towards me. “That sounded like an invitation, didn't it? I mean ... I have to go..."
I ducked back out of the room as quickly as I could and into the first open door I could find. Maybe they wouldn't come looking for me. It could happen! I shut the door, turned around and tried my best to figure out what was going on in this room. There seemed to be a small group of people enjoying a game of Twister, but it was being played on a large tarp, looked a lot more oily and lubricated than I remembered and nobody appeared to have the spinner. Also, nobody seemed to be wearing their towels.
Swell. Another room I shouldn't be in. Heading back out the way I'd just come in and risking running into the two workout juggernauts didn't appeal to me. Fortunately, there was a door on the opposite side of the room that might lead to another area I'd not explored yet. That seemed promising. I took two steps forward, hit a slick area on the tarp and promptly fell flat on my back.
"Ummm ... ouch!” At least there was some decent padding underneath me, otherwise I'd have ended up with a concussion. Of all the stupidest things to have happen—at least nobody knew me.
"Andy?"
"Yeah?” I recognized the voice, only I couldn't see who it was. Truth be told, I didn't even want to move, and when I did finally look over, there were too many bodies to tell them apart. A hand motioned to me from the bottom of the pile, and I crawled over to see who it was.