by Duncan More
Wanted to congratulate you on a smooth presentation today. I am looking forward to the Intellex training next week so I too can learn it all in detail. Especially proud of the skillful and honest way you handled the Michaels loan application, not being afraid of being bullied or blackmailed, and putting the bank’s interest foremost. Knew I made a good choice of you to head the department. Keep up the great work. D. Fredericks.
That letter made him feel so good inside that he couldn’t help but forward it to his mother’s computer. He still felt it as he and Eugene headed to Dyson’s Creek to wash and wax their cars and make it a lazy August day with a swim and lots of sunbathing. For the second time in a week they went to Scranton for another dinner at Cooper’s to celebrate Eugene’s promotion followed by some dancing and beverages.
Dennis appeared as scheduled with a triumphant air about him promptly at eleven. He was all eager to get the money in his hand and start into business. Dillon pulled out the revised paperwork and indicated the interest rate for the loan for two years would be 19.9%, at which Dennis immediately balked.
“You advertise loans at 3.9%, not 19.9.”
“That is true but the board’s consensus was that with far-below minimal collateral and the loan being a personal loan for the purpose of opening a bar, it is quite risky. This would guarantee rapid repayment to minimize the risk on our part. Also a second lien on your car is necessary. Those are the terms I am authorized to offer for this loan.”
“You must think I’m crazy to agree to those terms. 19.9% is outrageous.”
“It could have been 29.9%. That’s the going credit card rate for risky cardholders.”
“Well, you can shove this fuckin’ loan right up your ass.” Slowly the volume and the invectives increased. “Of course, I guess that’s how you like it when you deal with a real man. Right up the ass. That’s what I get for dealing with a faggot. Well, don’t worry, people in this town will soon know you’re a cocksucker, a homo, a fairy, a 100% card-carrying faggot. And then we’ll see how long you keep this job, cocksucker.” He stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Mavis came running out of her cubicle. “Are you all right?”
“Oh yes, quite! Seems Mr. Michaels decided he didn’t want the loan with the Board of Director’s stipulations. You are right again as usual in sizing up a person. He is not the kind of individual this bank should ever deal with.”
Monday night after dinner he saw very little of Eugene as he hibernated in the Gia room deciding what numbers he could perform. He had a brainstorm – mixing Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” with Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean” so they told a story. He would act the part of a pregnant Billy Jean talking to her Papa while Dick Hardy mimed the Jackson lyrics referring to Gia. He called dee jay Kurt to see if he could create such a mishmash and have it ready for them to rehearse on Wednesday. If anyone could do it, it would be Kurt. He called Beth to see if she were free and willing to perform the song as Dick Hardy. Both were a go. He dug through some old Broadway albums and rediscovered the song “Coo Coo” from Little Mary Sunshine. He already had decided on a Shirley Bassey song for his serious number of the evening. He worked on perfecting his timing with both songs in private. Dillon had already learned during show weeks that there was always Gia time which competed with the Eugene/Dillon time and he was contented with the arrangement, as he knew how much performing meant to his man.
Wednesday after lunch Mr. Fredericks took some time away from the Intellex training to visit Dillon’s office. I just thought you should see something that came in the mail today. I’ve already had calls from six of the directors saying they also received one, and none of them had any objection to you whatsoever. Actually, they were proud of you for putting the concerns of the bank above something like this and that they have full confidence in you. Although it is unsigned, it obviously originated with Dennis Michaels or someone closely associated with him.” He handed Dillon the letter.
Dear Mr. Fredericks and bank directors,
I feel it is my duty to let you know that your new loan manager is not the person you think he is. Are you aware that he is sharing a house with a drag queen who also works in your bank? One can only imagine the vile things these two males are doing with each other in a bed. It sickens me and I am sure it would sicken many of your investors if it became known publicly. Your friendly bank should only be employing God-fearing, morally upright Christians like most of your patrons. You need to think about the future ramifications of having such employees as these two working there.
An upset investor and citizen.
“I just want to say, once again, ‘Good job, son. Good job’!” He smiled, gave Dillon a pat on the back, and headed back to training.
Between training from Mrs. Crawford on being the head teller and training to learn all the intricacies of Intellex, Eugene also spent so much time rehearsing that there was little bedroom activity that whole week. By nine at night he was mentally and physically exhausted. Dillon burdened all the cooking and cleaning chores around the house without complaint. The double training, he knew, should have come any other week but a show week, but some things are beyond one’s control and one adapts to them. He did not complain about the few hugs and kisses and brief snuggling before Eugene was quickly asleep. He knew two men who would not be getting out of bed very early on Saturday.
That Friday night, Dillon, standing in the crowd, was a little unprepared when Gia came out to do her final number of the night, dragging a chair and wielding the live mike. She sat in the chair and looked directly at the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have been performing here rather regularly for the last four years, and I’m sure I have many more to go. Now, to some of you newcomers and the even fewer naïve persons in the crowd, this may come as a surprise but I am gay. Beneath all this beautiful makeup and these beautiful costumes beats the heart of a beautiful man. What I want to share with you is that I’m in love with an even more beautiful man. His name is Dillon Evans and he has moved here from Maine to take a job behind the scenes at the bank where most of you know I work. Dillon, honey, would you come up here and take this seat?”
Dillon had no choice but to comply. At least he wouldn’t be reacting like Mike Bonavena. Gia continued, “It has been a rather harrowing week for Dillon. It was necessary for him to out himself to the entire Board of Directors because one bank customer decided to use blackmail to force him to approve a loan that was an extremely bad risk. He chose to risk his job rather than submit to blackmail. When that loan did not materialize, the applicant, whose name I will never reveal though I would love to, made good on his blackmail threat, sending an anonymous letter to the board identifying us both as men who do vile things in bed with each other. While yes, we certainly do things in bed together, they would only be vile in the eyes of the Ebenezer Baptist Church members out in Iowa, for they are things done with love and respect for each other. I thought long and hard to find a number that I think expresses how we feel about each other and the world around us. It’s a song recorded by Shirley Bassey and written by Bruno Canfora, Norman Newell, and Antonio Amurri. I only ask your indulgence in one respect: this is for both of us. Thank you. Mr. Kurt, would you signal the orchestra that I am ready. This is My Life.”
Funny how a lonely day, can make a person say What good is my life
Funny how a breaking heart, can make me start to say What good is my life
Funny how I often seem, to think I'll find never another dream in my life
Till I look around and see, this great big world is part of me and my life
This is my life
Today, tomorrow, love will come and find me
But that's the way that I was born to be
This is me
This is me
This is my life
And I don't give a damn for lost emotions
I've such a lot of love I've got to give
Let me live
Let me live
Crying over my mistakes, forgetting all the breaks I've had in my life
I was put on earth to be, a part of this great world is me and my life
Guess I'll just add up the score, and count the things I'm grateful for in my life
This is my life
Today, tomorrow, love will come and find me
But that's the way that I was born to be
This is me
This is me
This is my life
And I don't give a damn for lost emotions
I've such a lot of love I've got to give
Let me live
Let me live
This is my life. This is my life. This is my life.
~End~
About the Author
Duncan More is a former gay lounge owner, English major, actor and musician, who knows all about pleasing an audience with a good presentation. He has been putting past life experiences into entertaining fiction for years. Other novels he has written include Sebastian, The Rodeo Rider, Nevada Pines, Lucky Strokes, A Gift from Poseidon, The Epiphany of Hunter Dixon, Life Among the Nasties, Wheels of Fortune, The Other House on Elm Street, Invitation to a Murder, Winchester’s Men, The Pariah, Rainbow Shorts, Secrets of Eros, Scoring Big, Clarke’s Pointe, and Larry Weston: Complete and Uncut. He has also written numerous short stories.
Books by Duncan More
Maybe This Time
Sebastian
The Rodeo Rider
Larry Weston: Complete and Uncut
Clarke’s Pointe
The Pariah
Winchester’s Men
The Other House on Elm Street
Invitation to a Murder
Wheels of Fortune
A Gift from Poseidon
Nevada Pines
The Epiphany of Hunter Dixon
Lucky Strokes
Life Among the Nasties
Rainbow Shorts
Secrets of Eros
Scoring Big