Heart Thief

by Peter de Sade

  Dan felt a sense of trepidation as he took the elevator to the third floor. What was he going to say to Gerry? What was there to say? Maybe he was being foolish in even coming to see him. Gerry had, after all, betrayed him by stealing his rings. But damn it, despite everything, he still was attracted to him.

  Well, he’d see.

  He walked into the room. Gerry lay in the bed, his eyes closed, his face peaceful—despite a terrible bruising at the side of his head and across his cheek. For a moment Dan stared, unsure what to do. Obviously, Gerry needed to rest. Maybe he should just leave…and what? Forget about the whole thing? Come back another time. He shook his head.

  Just then Gerry opened his eyes. “Dan?”

  “Hello, Gerry.”

  “Why are you here?”

  Dan shrugged. “I heard what happened. Decided to come by.”

  Gerry forced a smile.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Dan asked. He stopped himself from saying more.

  “It’ll take a while, I suppose. The doc says I’ll have to be here at least two or three days. They’re a little worried about the whack to my head.”

  Dan nodded his head.

  He smiled. “Some guys just can’t stand to lose, I guess.”

  “The guy hurt you just because you won?” Dan asked.

  “Guess I was a little too cocky. You know me.”

  “It isn’t as bad as it could be though, right?”

  Gerry motioned to the chair beside the bed. “Sit down if you want to.”

  “Can’t stay long.”

  “I understand.”

  Dan gave Gerry a crooked smile and sat in the tan Naugahyde chair. He glanced at Gerry. “So you’ll be out of here in a couple of days?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Will you be able to take care of yourself okay at your apartment.”

  “Oh, you mean the apartment I used to have?”

  “What do you mean used to have?’

  Gerry tried to smile again.

  “Couldn’t pay the rent. Lost my job at Matilda’s gallery. Bared from the pool tournament at Daddy’s Bar. No money for the rent. My landlord told me if I don’t pay my rent by tomorrow, he’s putting my things out on the street.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah, I’m serious.” He closed his eyes.

  Dan did speak for a long moment.

  “You can come home with me.”

  “What? You are joking?”

  “Until you’re on your feet.”

  “No. Just…no.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “You believe I stole your rings. I didn’t, Dan. I know it looks bad…but I didn’t do it.”

  “Isn’t that beside the point?”

  “Beside the point!”

  “You need a place to stay. And you need to get better.”

  “Can’t do it, Dan. Knowing that you think I stole your rings. You don’t trust me. Why would you want me in your house?”

  “What’s alternative do you have, Gerry?”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  “What a park bench?” Dan snapped

  “Why would you help me?”

  “Hell, I’ve been known to take in stray dogs.”

  “I don’t feel like a stray dog. I feel like one that’s been hit by a car,” Gerry said.

  “I leave my number with the nurse station. They can call me when you get released and I’ll pick you up.”

  At first Gerry didn’t answer. He stared into Dan’s eyes, a look on his face Dan couldn’t fathom. “Okay,” he finally said. “Okay. Just color me a stray dog.”

  Chapter 16

  “Maybe Gerry wants a glass of water?” Dan says as he headed for the kitchen. He filled a glass with ice and then water from the frig. I was just in his room. He’s going to think I keep coming in because . . . Dan didn’t want to finish the thought. No, I would check on a wounded stray dog constantly. It’s not because I still love him. I don’t. Definitely not! He’s a thief! And maybe worse.

  Dan walked to the guest bedroom and knocked lightly on the door then entered without waiting to be invited.

  “I brought you a glass of water.”

  “Thanks,” Gerry said through split lips.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “You asked me that a couple of minutes ago. Yes, but I can deal with it. I don’t want anything that makes me feel good.”

  “A glutton for pain.”

  “No, but I do want to be in control of my mind and not high from pain pills.”

  “Okay, Okay, just asking.”

  “I’ll be out of here in a couple of day. I heal fast. This is not my first beat down. I got roughed up in prison . . . never mind. Some things are better not discussed.”

  “Yeah, I guess you had it rough in prison,” Dan said.

  “Don’t pity me, Dan. Not after you told the police I stole your rings. I’m on parole. It doesn’t take much for them to slap the rest of my sentence back on. So, don’t pity me. Like I said, I’m out of here as soon as possible.”

  Dan held up his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get your all riled up. I just wanted to make sure you are comfortable.”

  “The bed isn’t a hard prison bed. There is no armed guard outside of my door and it’s not locked! I’m very comfortable for the moment. Ask me again in a month, Dan,” Gerry said sarcastically.

  “You need anything just call me,” Dan said as he turned to leave.

  Gerry didn’t respond.

  Wow, that didn’t go well? I just have to keep telling myself that he stole my rings. He left in the middle of the night and took my rings! I got to keep thinking that.

  The doorbell rang.

  Please, I hope it’s not Mathew. I can’t deal with his gigolo affections at the moment.

  Dan glanced through the window as he approached the door. He opened the door glad it wasn’t Mathew.

  “Hi Spike,”

  “Dan, I came by to see how Gerry is doing?”

  “You bike too. Mathew rode his bike here yesterday.”

  “Mathew, Terry and I go on long bike rides together at least three times a week. It keeps us in shape, that and rock climbing. It beats paying fees to sweat in a gym. Riding a bike is better on the body that lifting weights. And rock climbing is a real workout,” Spike said. “Mind if I bring my bike in. It’s a light weight racing bike and cost me an arm and a leg.” He laughed. “That’s lie one of my rich La Jolla regulars bought it for me. It just cost a little down and dirty time.”

  Dan shook his head. “I can’t wrap my mind around you all having so many rich tricks. I guess, I should have known that Gerry wasn’t really interested in me,” Dan said sounding a little upset.

  “You got him wrong. Sure, he went out with some rich guys, but he also went out with guys on pensions too. It wasn’t ever about the money with Gerry. It was the guy’s looks. And he’s really picky about how they look. Got to be clean cut masculine daddy types. One swing of a hip or wave of a limp wrist and you were history with Gerry.”

  “Oh!”

  “I mean he could have been the top hustler in Daddy’s Boys with his tough look and his body. But, as far as I know, he never took a dime from guys.”

  “You said you wanted to see, him. Lean your bike against the wall and follow me. I’m sure seeing you will cheer him up. He sounded depressed a few minutes ago.”

  Dan led Spike to the bedroom do and knocked. He opened the door but didn’t enter. Instead he motioned for Spike to go in.

  “Hey, how is hanging,” Spike said as he walked up to the bed. “Damn you look rough.”

  “Thank, Spike, that’s just what I needed to hear.”

  “You know me. Truth counts!”

  “How’s everyone at Daddy’s?”

  “Mathew is getting some nasty time with a mystery man. He will not say who. But he’s seeing the guy regular,” Spike said.

  “Don’t tell Dan. I suspect he might think Mathew is actu
ally interested in him.”

  “No way. He brighter than that. Mathew in love! That will be the day.”

  “How is Ter . . . Ter . . . Terry?”

  “You shouldn’t make fun of his stutter, Gerry.”

  “Yeah, well he’s been anything but my friend lately. I guess he is enjoying the limelight winning tournament now that I’m not allowed in Daddy’s.”

  “Yeah, he is. He actually thinks he can bet you now. Brags that he’s better than you.”

  “We will see about that one of these days. I’m sure he and I will end up at the same pool table sooner or later.”

  “When you do, I’m certainly not putting my money on Terry,” Spike said.

  “Hey, I never thanked you for telling Dan that I was in the hospital.”

  “That’s all right. Dan’s a good man. I thought he would help you even if you two have issues.”

  “You call it issues?”

  Spike raised his hands. “Come on. Let’s not go there. I’m not here to declare you guilty or innocent. I just here to see how you are doing.”

  “I’ll live, Spike. I’ll be out of here in a few days.”

  “Where will you go. The gook threw your things in the street.”

  “My sketches and paintings?”

  “Dan didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “He collected them and has them stored in the guest house.”

  “That bastard!”

  “Why are you calling him a bastard?”

  “Because he has a guilty conscious for telling the cops I stole his rings. That’s the only reason he rescued my stuff. His actions might send me back to prison and he’s trying to ease his guilty conscious.”

  “Maybe, just maybe it because he cares for you?”

  “Yeah, like he would a rabid dog he holding before he’s put down. No, I don’t want anything to do with him. Like I said, in a couple of days I’m out of here and he’ll never see me again.”

  “Think about it, bro. Think about it. Anyway, I got to go. Just wanted to stop by and see your ugly mug and damn it is ugly.”

  “Get the fuck out.”

  “Later, Gerry.”

  “Yeah, catch you on the flip side, Spike.”

  Chapter 17

  It’s better this way, Gerry thought as he shut the neon green door behind him. I couldn’t face his tormented looks as he tries to decide if the still cares for me while thinking I am the La Jolly Cat Burglar or Crayon Boy . . . whatever in hell they are calling him.

  When Dan returns from shopping he’ll find my note thanking him but saying that it’s best for both of us if I leave. I just hope someone doesn’t come in and steal something before he returns from the grocery store. Now, that would be shit for luck even for me.

  Gerry had to wait only a few minutes for the taxi he had called to arrive. He barely had enough for the fare. Yet, he couldn’t in all honesty wait around for Dan to come home and ask him for money. That would have been a real hoot.

  Gerry took one last look at Dan’s house as he climbed into the taxi. It was a strange house. Old fashion on the outside and ultra-modern on the inside. He hated to admit that he loved it, even the green neon doors.

  “Where to buddy?”

  “The Ramrod,” Gerry said.

  The cabbie gave him a disapproving look which Gerry ignored. The Ramrod was notorious for their backroom sex orgies. But that was at night. During the day is was a gay biker bar. And usually there were guys playing pool. It was at the pool table that he hoped to pick up some pocket money, hopefully enough for a motel. If not it was a park bench for a bed and hope he didn’t get arrested.

  The difference in the parking lot of the Ramrod and Pop’s Bar was striking. Oh, there were a good number of Harley but instead of the stripped down versions they were full dressed touring bikes with a few Sportsters here and there. The rest were ricers, Hondas, Yamahas and like.

  Inside was different too, it was Disney’s version of tough biker bar. Some of the leather clad men had beards but most were clean shaven and smelling of expensive perfumes instead of stinking of sweat and grease. The owner had spent a small fortune with biker paraphernalia to give the bar as bad biker image.

  Two guys were playing eight ball when Gerry entered the room with the pool table after stopping by the bar for a Bud. “You guys playing for money?”

  The tall guy all decked out in leather pants and vest with a bare, hairy chest glanced at Gerry and smiled. Sorry, but I’m not interested in sex at least not with you! Gerry thought but played along and returned the smile. A boy has to do what a boy has to do, the moto of the hustlers at Daddy’s Boys Bar popped into his mind.

  “Twenty dollars a game. You interested?”

  “That’s a little steep.”

  “Suit yourself,” the shorter guy who was wearing a leather vest but jeans instead of leather pants said.

  “I guess losing one game will not break me,” Gerry said and crossed his fingers that they wouldn’t ask him to cough up the twenty at the start of the game.

  “I’ll tell you what Brando, Jack and I will even let you break.”

  “Marlon Brando in the Wild Ones,” Gerry said with a nod of his head. “But you can call me Gerry with a g.”

  “Okay, Gerry with a g . . . are you going to break or go looking for a wave to ride?

  “I’ll break and thanks,” Gerry said as he grabbed a pool stick from a rack of crooked pole sticks. He didn’t bother choosing the straightest one. He had learned to shoot pool at his step father’s bar and there hadn’t been a straight pool stick in sight.

  Gerry slammed the cue ball into the racked balls. A stripped ball and a solid color ball flew into the side pockets.

  “Actually, I’ve never been on a surf board or rode a wave,” Gerry said as he proceeded to run the table. “Pool is more my game,” he added as he held his hand out for the players’ money.

  At the end of the night Gerry counted his money as he walked out of the bar. Two hundred dollars. He knew a hooker motel where he could get a room for forty dollars. He stared to call a cab but then decided that the bed would probably have bedbugs and to just find a park bench and spend the night. If he wanted to get off the street he had to save enough money to rent an apartment.

  Gerry searched for an hour before he found a park bench in a small park that was hidden from the street by a hedge. He stretched out on bench and as he did so memories of sleeping on the hard beds in prison returned. He found himself wondering what Dan had thought when he returned home to find him gone. He was probably glad to get rid of the thief! Gerry couldn’t hardly believe that such a promising relationship had turned to shit so quickly and utterly. Who stole Dan’s rings? Who is Crayon Boy? Whoever it is it’s probably has to be someone from Daddy’s Boys, but who? Gerry shook his head. He had thought the same thing a thousand times without coming up with a name. It could be Mathew, Spike or even Terry. And maybe it wasn’t even someone from the bar?

  Gerry drifted off thinking who the thief could be.

  “Hey! Hey, Buddy!”

  The policeman tapped his night stick against the bench.

  “You can’t sleep here. Move on!”

  Gerry sat up.

  “Sure thing officer. I just had a little too much to drink and had to crash for a while. Sorry. I’ll go on home now.”

  “Yeah, see that you do. I find you on this bench again and I’ll take you to the station,” the policeman said.

  “Thank you, officer,” Gerry said. Tomorrow night I have to sleep at the Mission Rescue Shelter. I can’t take a chance of getting arrested for vagrancy.

  He’s not going to be in the bar? Bucky kicked him out, Dan found himself thinking as he pulled into Daddy’s Boys. Still a part of him was hoping that he would see Gerry hanging around the parking lot even though he knew that wasn’t Gerry’s style. If Bucky didn’t want him around, the boy had too much pride show up.

  “Hello,” Mathew said smiling when he saw Dan wa
lk into the bar. “How’s Gerry. You still playing nurse with him?”

  Dan shook his head. “He left while I was out shopping. He left a note stuck to the door of the frig saying ‘time to leave’. I guess he didn’t want any drama.”

  “And you are happy to have the thief out of the house, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I can’t get past him stealing my rings no matter how hard I tied. I have feeling for him, I will admit but the moment I see him, I think about him stealing my rings and get upset all over again. Maybe he senses that,” Dan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t have to worry about Gerry, he a survivor. He’ll land on his feet.”

  Spike who had just finished a pool game with Terry walked over.

  “Did I hear you guys mention Gerry?”

  “Your ears are as big as your dick, Spike,” Mathew said sounding irritated.

  “Yes,” Dan answered. “I was just telling Mathew that he left the house a couple days ago while I was out shopping. I don’t know where he went.”

  “I do,” Spike said.

  “You are just a well spring of knowledge, Spike. Maybe you should become a private detective,” Mathew said.

  “Where is he?” Dan asked as Bucky brought him a glass of wine.

  “Sleeping at the Mission Rescue Shelter. I was biking by and saw him in line waiting to get in.”

  Dan face turned slightly pale. “You are kidding?”

  “No, I saw him in line.”

  “H . . . H . . . How the mighty has fallen,” Terry said as he caught the tail end of Spike statement.

  Mathew shrugged. “Where else has he got to go? His landlord evicted him. An apartment in San Diego is expensive when you can find one. And he doesn’t have any money, unless he got some stashed away from selling Dan’s rings or from the painting he has stolen.”

  It doesn’t make sense. If he had stolen my rings, which were very valuable he would have money and also some from the paintings.

  “Maybe he’s been actually telling the truth all the time,” Dan said out loud. “Maybe he’s not the La Jolly Cat Burglar. Maybe he didn’t steal my rings.”

  “Dan, don’t torture yourself. He’s the cat burglar. He stole your rings,” Mathew said putting his arm around Dan. “You are going to have to let go of him!”