by Rick R. Reed
And froze.
A jolt of electricity passed through him.
There was a moment when he almost wanted to laugh.
This could not be real.
Keith stood facing him still, quite calmly. His grin now looked taunting. He had not removed any of his own clothes. No, all he had done, Mark guessed, in those nauseating few seconds when Mark wasnt looking, was to reach into a pocket of his shorts to pull out his badge, which he held out so Mark could see.
“I thought you said you werent a cop.”
“I never said that, Mark. Not exactly. Sorry.” He smiled more broadly, and Mark wanted to puke. “I am a cop and youre under arrest.”
Marks erection deflated in about three seconds as he scrambled to pull up and refasten his jeans. He groped in the sand for his T-shirt and awkwardly yanked it on, his trembling fingers making it difficult for him to find the hole where his head should go. He started to beg. “Please, man. I lied before. Ive never been down here. And if you could just let me go, I promise you, Ill never come back.” Mark fought to hold back tears, thinking of Dan. This would ruin them! “Please, man. You gotta understand, this would wreck my whole life. Please, cant you just see your way clear to letting me go?”
Keith put away the badge. “My cars parked over there.” He nodded toward the causeway.
Mark wondered what would happen if he just made a break for it, if he simply ran. Did the guy have a gun?
“I can cuff you and lead you out of here and it will be humiliating for you. Or you can come quietly with me to my car.” He paused. “And yes, Mark, I do have a gun,” he said, as if reading his mind. “You seem like a nice guy and I dont want to embarrass you. Do you want to come along with me and not make a fuss?”
Mark stared at the ground. “Sure.”
They started off, Keith explaining what would happen next, how if he had no warrants, he would write him a citation and he would be free to go, pending a court date. But it all started sounding like buzzing in his ears.
They walked up the beach. A few more guys had arrived and they gave knowing and flirtatious leers to the two hunks leaving the beach together.
All Mark wanted to do was throw up.
Chapter Six
FT. DE SOTObeach never failed to take Dans breath away. It was
so beautiful, it almost didnt seem real. The sugar-white sand, the endless aqua water gently rolling, the sand dunes—they all conspired to create a kind of tropical magic. And it wasnt simply the view that had an effect; the combination of all of the above was also like a balm on the soul—calming.
Today, the beach was nearly empty. At one end, a family had spread out, the mother on a beach chair under an umbrella, reading a novel, while the dad frolicked in the water with his two kids—a little towheaded boy who made him think of what Mark must have looked like as a child, and a little girl, younger, who had her mothers curly, red hair. Along the shoreline two middle-aged women waded, in loose-fitting linen tops, shorts, and floppy sun hats, each carrying mesh bags in which they collected seashells. The sun was brilliant and the air smelled fresh, with just a slight sting of salt to it as the warm breeze buffeted Dans face. The roar of the waves was a soothing aural backdrop.
Dan scanned the white sand for the perfect spot to unfurl the old blanket he had brought and to set up their day camp. Down near the water was a spot that looked perfect—flat and not close at all to the few people who were there. They could play the boom box Adam had brought and not disturb anyone, plus they could talk freely.
Dan had already forgotten—pretty much—about Mark, relaxed by the waves, the sun, and the sand. Adam followed him and the two men, for now, didnt speak. When he had picked Adam up at his house in Brandon, he was ashamed to admit to himself that he was relieved that the guy looked pretty close to normal. He didnt know quite what he had expected, but he was glad to see there were no feather boas, spike heels, or hot pants in evidence.
No, today, Adam looked kind of waifish, with his poker-straight blond hair, pale skin, and thin frame, younger than his years. Anyone seeing him from a distance might have assumed he was a teenage boy, off on an outing with his young uncle. This morning, he wore a pair of orange swim trunks, baggy on his frame, patterned with brown sea turtles. A simple white T-shirt, baseball cap, sunglasses, and sandals completed his ensemble. Compared to the other day, he looked completely, well, normal.
When Adam had opened the door, Dan was surprised. He hadnt expected this vision of masculine regularity. Maybe he wasnt anticipating drag, but he did believe he might find something outrageous. He was as disappointed as he was relieved.
“What?” Adam said, one hand on his hip. “You were expecting maybe a one-piece Catalina swimsuit and black pumps to show off my legs? Maybe a sash with Miss AIDS 1991 on it?”
“Sorry. Are you ready to go?”
“Good God, yes! I havent been out of this house in forever. You dont know just how ready I am for this little adventure.” Dan peered behind him into the house that appeared darker, he
was sure, due to his sun-blinded eyes. “Is Sullivan home?” “Hes at work. Not a lady of leisure like us. Do you wanna come
in while I grab my stuff?”
“I can just wait here.” Dan sat on a bench on the small front
porch. Fortunately, the day had turned out to be a superior one: sunny,
with rare low humidity and the mornings temperature only in the low
eighties.
Adam had returned after only a few minutes, holding a beach
bag in one hand and a boom box in the other. His eyes were hidden
behind purple-lensed oval sunglasses. “I thought your guy was
coming too. Whats his name again?”
“Mark.” Dan had grown solemn, remembering how Mark had
abandoned their plans for the day that morning. It gave him a little
twinge, a tiny, nauseous poke to the gut, and he wondered briefly if
his lover was behaving himself. “No, he couldnt make it.” Dan
unlocked the passenger door of the car and opened it, taking Adams
bag from him and tossing it in the backseat.
“Oh, did he have to work?”
Dan snorted at the thought. “No, he was just being a pill. He
hasnt found a job yet.”
“So why didnt he come?” Adam slid into the car and looked up
at Dan. “Its a perfect beach day.”
“Youd have to ask him. I guess he just wasnt in the mood to be
social.” Or if he was, Dan thought darkly, it was not with Dan. Dan crossed in front of the car and slid behind the steering
wheel. “All set?”
“Yeah.” Sheepishly, Adam reached into his pocket and brought
out a cassette. “You have a player?”
“Right there in the dash.” Dan started the car. “What is it?” “Dont laugh. Its such a cliché. But I love her.”
Dan glanced down at the cassette case. It was Barbra Streisand,
One Voice.
“You big queen,” Dan scoffed, rolling down the window. “Put it
in.”
“Thats what he said,” Adam snorted and inserted the cassette.
Barbras crystalline voice accompanied them all the way to the beach.
AND now here they were. Adam stood aside while Dan opened the blanket and tucked its edges into the sand so it would lie flat and not blow away in the breeze. Adam handed him the boom box and several cassettes he had brought: more Barbra, of course, but also some C&C Music Factory and Black Box.
“I also made us a pitcher of margaritas.” Adam handed Dan a vintage plaid Thermos jug.
“No Mai Tais?”
“Variety is the spice, honey.” Adam sighed and looked around him. “Besides, a day like this makes it easy to pretend were on the Yucatan peninsula, right? And for that, we need tequila.”
Dan settled onto the blanket and took off his shirt, which drew a wolf whistle fr
om Adam. “Good God, kid, look at those pecs. Im surprised your lover let you out the door, knowing youd be shirtless in public.”
Dan felt heat rise to his face. He didnt know what to say. “Good thing we came here instead of Passe a Grille,” Adam said, referring to the south end of that particular beach, which was famous (or infamous) as a gay gathering place. “I am not sure at all how long Id have been able to hang onto you. The boys would be lining up to ply you with drinks at the Lighted Tree.”
“Whats the Lighted Tree?”
“Honey, you dont know? How long have you lived here again?”
“Only a few months.”
“And youre gay, right?”
Dan snickered, digging his toes in the edge of the sand. “Yeah.”
“Well, Passe a Grille and the Lighted Tree are the gay hot spots on Sundays and pretty much other days as well… at least on this side of the bay. “The „tree is an open-air bar favored by the girls, but plenty of gay guys go there too. It has a little guest house where I once trysted with one of the maintenance men.” Adam looked faraway, and Dan wondered about Sullivan. He assumed that the pair of them were like him and Mark, only here in Florida for a few months… and he assumed together.
I guess Im just old-fashioned. “What did Sullivan think about that?”
Adam eyed him, lighting a cigarette and then searching in his bag for two plastic cups. He poured margaritas for them. “Sorry I didnt bring a lime.” He handed a cup to Dan. “Or rim the edges of the glass with salt. I usually like to rim.” He snorted. “Getting back to your question, though—Sullivans motto is „what I dont know wont hurt me.”
Dan sipped. “So you guys have sort of an agreement?” Dan had yet to understand gay men and their open relationships. He was a oneman kind of guy himself and couldnt really stomach the thought of simply allowing Mark to be with other men, even if it meant some unspoken agreement where each of them looked the other way.
“Agreements are sometimes made by actions, dear boy.”
“Okay….” Dan didnt quite understand.
“When one is not getting what one needs at home, one must sometimes look elsewhere for satisfaction.”
A dim bulb flickered to tawdry light above Dans head. “I get it.”
“I can see youre appalled.” Adam placed a comforting hand on Dans forearm. “I kind of wish Sullivan and I were together as a monogamous couple myself, but ever since I started getting sick— really sick—you know, where it was obvious….” He pointed to a purple lesion on his flat stomach, and Dan also noticed Adams protruding ribs. “When Sullivan started noticing that and having to visit me in the hospital as I lingered dramatically, flirting with death, he kind of pulled away from me in the bedroom.” Adam smiled brightly, but even behind the purple shades, Dan thought he could just about see tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. “I understand. I dont hold it against him, much as I wish hed hold it against me once in a while.” Adam snorted. “I mean, lesions and a dry cough, fatigue, trouble breathing, wasting, diarrhea, night sweats—it aint exactly a recipe for sexiness, sugar.”
Dan had a sudden urge to wrap his arms around Adam. How awful it must be—to be betrayed by ones own body and kindly disregarded by ones lover. How lonely he must feel. Dan actually started to lean toward Adam, situating his cup so it wouldnt spill, when his friend ground his cigarette into the sand, covering it, and placing his own cup in a little indentation in the sand. His voice choking only slightly, he stood and cried out, “Last one in is a rotten fag!” He sprinted toward the surf, not slowing as he came to the water, running, running, until he dove into a big swell of aquamarine water, which swallowed him up.
Dan followed slowly.
THEpair rested on the blanket, lying back, eyes closed. Dans skin stung from the salt and the sun and he thought it would be a good idea to put on some of the sunscreen he had packed, but he was just too worn out from body surfing and three margaritas to be bothered. If he burned, he burned. Tomorrow, it would turn brown. Such was his Sicilian heritage.
But he worried about Adam, who was fair and blond and would look like a boiled shrimp if he didnt take care of him. So, in spite of how good it felt to just lie on the blanket, the warm breeze buffeting him, the sun beating down in glorious warmth, and Barbra serenading him, ironically, with “Happy Days are Here Again,” he forced himself to rise up on his elbows to dig around in his bag for the No-Ad sunscreen.
Adam lay on his belly and Dan thought he might have fallen asleep. He squirted a healthy dollop of white cream into his hand and began massaging it into Adams back and shoulders.
“Mm-mm,” Adam breathed. “Im hoping this massage comes with a happy ending.”
Dan slapped his ass. “Im a happily married man!”
Adam lifted his head up to squint at him. “I dont see no husband around here, sugar.”
Dan slowed in the circles he was making with the cream on Adams already reddening skin. “Thats true.”
Dan finished up and put some lotion on his own self for good measure. The two lay back once more, quiet.
After several minutes, Adam asked, “So really, why isnt Mark here?”
Dan didnt say anything for a few moments, thinking first, as he always did, of simply smoothing things over with easy excuses. He was tired. Or, He just doesnt like the beach that much. That was really Dans way, to simply bury the issue. And anyway, he thought, Im here to be a pal to this guy, to help him out, not to burden him with my problems.
Before he had a chance to say anything, though, Adam, as if he had read Dans mind, said, “You know, if were gonna be friends, it goes both ways. You can talk to me.” Adam rolled toward him. “You dont have to worry about sparing me. In spite of how I look, Im actually a tough guy.”
It was like a dam bursting, and a rush of freedom washed over Dan. “Really?” he asked, tentative.
“Sure. Problems with your honey?” Adam scooted closer. “Tell Mama all about it. It may surprise you to learn that I am an excellent listener.” Adam leaned back again, covering his eyes with one arm. Dan wondered if he knew removing his gaze from him would make it easier for Dan to talk. “And honey, I know from man troubles. I wrote the fuckin book on that topic!”
“Somethings wrong,” Dan started.
“Okay. I figured as much. Not so much from the fact that Mark isnt here, but from the way you look when I ask about him.”
“How do I look?”
“Like youre scared.”
The three words hung in the air, simple, yet they caused a jolt to course through Dan with their simple truth.
“What are you scared of, Dan?”
Without looking at Adam, without even cutting his filtered gaze from the clouds in the sky above him, Dan poured it all out—Marks drug addiction and how it had driven them down here to Florida for a fresh start. “Only Im crazy scared that the fresh start is already going stale.” Dan voiced his fears that Mark had relapsed, relaying to Adam the telltale signs of drug use that were cropping up more frequently. “It also bugs me that he doesnt seem to be doing anything to find work. I mean, we came down here with a little saved, but thats running out fast.”
Adam laughed and got up on one elbow, indicating the beach and the gulf before them with a wave of his hand. “And, as we can all see, youre working so very hard. Fingers to the bone, my dear. Fingers to the bone!” He laughed.
“Thats not fair. I have been looking. Every week, I comb through the classifieds and send out resumes. Im registered with a couple agencies. And I have an interview next week that I suspect might end up with me being back among the ranks of the gainfully employed.”
“And that will just make you even more resentful of him. I mean, if hes home getting high and sunning himself by the pool, its just going to get you really riled. Am I right?”
Dan hadnt even thought that far ahead, but Adam had a point. Dan sighed, realizing how much he hated conflict and everything going on in his house was rising to an angry, red, and complicated h
ead. Sooner or later, he would have to deal with it. The thought turned his stomach.
They were quiet for a while. Both watched as a deeply tanned young man walked by, all muscles, in nothing but a thong.
“So why dont you kick his ass to the curb? I mean, if you really think hes sneaking around and doing drugs behind your back. Thats a betrayal. It goes against everything you told me the two of you moved down here for.”
Dan knew Adam probably would do just what he was suggesting. Adam may have been dying from AIDS, but Dan knew already the man was stronger than he. “Oh, I dont know.” Dan sat up, moving to the edge of the blanket and sifting sand though his fingers as he looked out at the water. “He needs me. How could I kick him out when he doesnt have a way to even support himself?” He glanced back at Adam, who was listening intently to him. “You dont know what hes been through growing up—he was pretty much abused by his mom, who left him alone while she drank and whored her way around the small town they lived in. It sounded awful.”
“And who died and appointed you his protector? I assume Mark is a grown man and not some little twelve-year-old you robbed from the cradle?”
“No, hes quite grown up.”
Adam sat up, scooting closer to his new friend. He spoke softly. “Then you need to think about whats going on. You need to consider whats stopping you from confronting him about your suspicions. And maybe you might want to ask yourself why you are allowing yourself to be treated in a less-than-respectful way.”