by Ty Jacob
“Oh my God,” Sasha said, standing up. “That’s so fucking hot.”
“Hot?” Earl looked up at her.
“Totally hot. How many gay muscle boys in LA can play the banjo?! You’re like a rare and precious diamond! Why on earth would you hide that?”
He smiled.
Sasha began pacing. “Have you ever thought of getting in front of the camera, doll? Of doing porn?”
“Well, sure. Sometimes.”
“That’s it. You’ve got to. I want to film you shirtless, in little cut-off denim shorts, on a porch in the back woods, playing the banjo. Then some friend of yours comes up out of the shrubbery. You set down the banjo and immediately start fucking him like a hound dog in heat, right there on the porch where just moments before you were displaying your prodigious banjo talent! Earl, don’t you know that talent is sexy?”
Sasha thought of the time she’d cast a real live street performer. He’d juggled knives and swallowed swords expertly before taking home several onlookers and swallowing dick in the same fashion. It was fantastic. This could be even better.
Earl was beaming from his spot on the sofa. “Wow. Banjo porn,” he said. “I like it.”
“Trust me, doll. You’ll have more appeal as a genuine country boy from Tennessee than as a German phony. People know when you’re being true. They can smell it. For me, Sasha is the most authentic, genuine thing I can be. I expect the same is true of Philippa here. We’re not pretending. This is us. So, will you do it? The banjo porn?”
“Sure. Why the hell not?”
“Marvelous. Of course you’ll have to do a screen test. I can arrange one tomorrow.” She knew that Earl understood what she meant. He would have to jack off on camera, to prove that he could come on demand. She didn’t always have a camera for a screen test. There were times when she just told guys to drop their pants and come. If they could do it they got a movie deal. “Assuming your screen test goes well, we can do a whole banjo-themed movie. I already know what we’ll call it.” She looked up in the air and gestured broadly. “Appalachian Ass, starring…” Here she paused for dramatic effect. “Earl!” She quickly turned back to him. “You don’t mind going by your real name, do you? You won’t even need a last name, with a distinctive moniker like that. I’ll make you a star.”
“Sure,” Earl said. He put his hand on Philippa’s knee. “But can Phil Dass play my boyfriend, the one who comes out of the, uh, shrubbery?”
“Of course!” Sasha yelled. “The fag rags will love that. I can see it now. ‘Newcomer Earl tops real-life boyfriend Phil Dass.’” All at once she stopped pacing and looked at Earl. “But listen, no coke on my set, ever. Nothing stronger than coffee. You know that’s my rule.”
“Don’t worry, Sasha. I don’t want to be kicked off your set ever again. You’re too scary.”
“Good.” She raised her glass, and they sealed the deal with another toast.
By the time they’d finished their second glass of chardonnay, Sasha had started to seriously worry about Billy. Where was he?
Earl said, “Billy is probably stuck in traffic, Sasha. Or maybe his flight was late. That’s all.”
At six o’clock the roast was done and still there was no Billy. She put the oven on low to keep things warm, and basted the chicken again. She didn’t want it to dry out, but she didn’t want to start eating without Billy. It would be all wrong. She would rather cancel the entire meal and send Earl and Philippa home with empty bellies than to start without her Billy.
She tried to make small talk, tried not to worry. She thought about calling Billy’s pager, but he’d have to get to a pay phone to call her back, which wouldn’t help at all if they really were stuck in traffic. Rafael couldn’t drive his way out a paper bag. Maybe they’d been in some kind of accident. She’d kill that dildo if he hurt her Billy. She excused herself and called Billy’s pager anyway, entered their home number, and then sat back down in the front room.
At six thirty she got up again and went to the kitchen. She started ringing a tea towel in her hands.
Philippa walked in and looked at Sasha with concern. “Are you okay? You look so scared.”
“Billy is an hour and a half late. I left him a message on his pager but he hasn’t called back. What if he isn’t coming home? What if he’s never coming home again?”
“Oh, Sasha. Of course he’s coming home. Seriously, it’s just LA traffic. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“You don’t know that though, do you? He could be dead on the side of the road, and here we are drinking chardonnay. It’s awful.”
“Oh Sasha,” Philippa said. “You love him, don’t you?”
Sasha was surprised to hear the question. “Of course I do.”
“Come back in the other room and let’s chat some more. He’ll be here soon.” Philippa took Sasha’s hand and led her back into the front room.
By the time the door opened at 7:00, Sasha was almost on the verge of panic. But suddenly there was Billy, sauntering in with his easy gait, flashing his charming smile.
“Hey there,” Billy said.
Sasha stood up immediately, and she started screaming. “Where the hell have you been!?” Her voice was at full volume. She was waving her arms. “What the fuck have you been doing? I was expecting you over two god-dammed hours ago! You selfish asshole! I thought you were dead!” She pushed him in the chest.
Billy stepped backwards toward the door and put up his hand as though to stop Sasha from advancing. His eyes were wide. Rafael was standing behind him. Everyone was staring.
“Sasha, relax,” Billy said. “We were stuck in traffic. It’s okay. Relax.”
“Oh my god, oh my god,” she said, no longer yelling. She walked over him with her arms open. “I was so worried.” She hugged him, and she could tell that the hug she received in return was tentative and distant.
“It’s okay,” he said. His voice was flat. “I’m sorry we’re late.”
Sasha couldn’t help it. She started sobbing. She didn’t want to be a fool in front of Rafael and Philippa and Earl, but she just couldn’t stop the tears.
“Sasha, what’s wrong?” Billy said. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
“Oh, Billy. I am just so afraid of losing you. For all I knew you were dead. You could have been dead.”
“It was just LA,” he said, pulling away before she wanted him to. “There was a terrible accident on the 405. Total gridlock. I got your call on my pager, but I couldn’t get to a phone to call you back. We just came straight here. I’m fine. It’s all right.”
Her guests were staring at her now, and she suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed in the middle of the room. Of course Billy had been stuck in traffic. It was silly to have been so nervous. She threw her shoulders back and shook her head, trying to make her face go smooth again. “Oh, you know a mother worries. It’s our lot in life.” She hated the words as soon as they came out. The feelings she had for Billy were not the least bit motherly.
Billy put a hand on her arm now “You really were worried, weren’t you?” His hand was warm and strong.
“Of course I was.”
For a moment he looked her straight in the eye, deeply, and then said, “Thank you.” He took his hand away. “Now, something smells good.”
“That’ll be your dried out, shriveled up roast chicken. I stuffed it with apples, the way you like it, but it’ll probably taste more like beef jerky by now.”
“Why didn’t you start without us? I figured you would.”
She was shocked. Did he really think she would start without him? Did he not understand anything at all? She looked at him and sighed. “Oh, Billy. You’re the reason I made this damn roast bird. Because you were coming home. I would never start without you.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” He turned to the others. “Sorry you had to wait, guys. You must be starving.”
Sasha hastily introduced Billy and Rafael to the new Philippa and Earl, and after a couple qu
ick questions everyone sat down at the table, but she wished they’d all go home. She wanted to be with her Billy alone, wanted him to hold her again, better this time. She needed him to tell her that everything between them was okay, that it would always be okay, that he would never leave her, that he would never stop coming home.
38. Bi Bi Billy
MIKE LAUGHED ALONG with everyone when Sasha brought out the chicken. She’d somehow roasted it so that it looked like it had a perfect tan line from a tiny bikini. The wings were stretched out like arms behind its missing head and the legs were sprawled apart. This was a sultry poultry at an imaginary poolside, naked. Mike didn’t think the meat was dry at all. It tasted deliciously of apples.
Sasha served everybody seconds. She told them it was Sunday, and Sundays were meant for eating and everybody should eat more. There was an enormous amount of food – the chicken but also roasted vegetables, potatoes and an enormous green salad and applesauce too.
Mike was happy to have come home to this meal, to Sasha, to know that there was somebody in the world who made a special dinner with him in mind, somebody who worried so much if he was late, although it was a little odd that she’d been so upset. He tried to concentrate on how much he cared for her, on how nice the meal was. He hadn’t felt this much at home since his mother died.
Still, he couldn’t help feeling that – as was often the case with Sasha – it was too much. Her anger when he came in the door was disturbing. Sometimes her love made him feel claustrophobic and scared. It was like a weight on him, pushing him down. He long could he take it before it became too much?
Over dinner Sasha kept the conversation going with comments about new talent, about who was sleeping with whom, about which models had supposedly found sugar daddies. At one point Philippa said she’d heard a rumor that Max Pole had recently become HIV positive, and she didn’t want to work with him anymore.
“Philippa, dear” Sasha said. “That’s why we always use condoms on set. You have to act as if everybody’s HIV positive.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want him fucking me.”
Sasha picked up her wine glass. “So on the strength of a rumor you refuse to work with the man ever again? Even with condoms?”
“Well, yeah.”
Sasha shook her head. “That’s the problem with our industry. Rumor gets out that you’re HIV positive, and nobody wants to work with you anymore.”
“Is that a problem?” Rafael asked. “Sounds like common sense to me.”
“What do you know, Ralph?” Sasha sneered. “Billy, tell us about Ohio. How is the heartland?” She turned to the others. “Billy just came back from a visit to his family, you see. Came home three days early, just to be here for my Sunday dinner. So, Billy, how was it?”
Mike looked up and saw the entire table turned toward him. Sasha had seated him at the head of the table, as always, with her at the other end. Everybody was waiting for an answer, but how could he possibly tell them about his family? What could he say? He shrugged. “Ohio was fine. I met my new niece. I brought her presents. She’s cute.”
“How did your sister like the purple baby shirts I helped you pick out?” Sasha asked.
“She liked them a lot.”
Earl cleared his throat. “Why’d you come home early?”
“For my Sunday dinner,” Sasha said.
Mike shrugged. “Oh, family. You know. You can only take so much. My dad was there. He and I don’t get along so well.”
“Your dad was there?” Sasha said. “How was that?”
“He looks older, but he’s the same.”
“We all look older.” Sasha sighed and flicked her short, blond bob. “Every single day I feel my beauty fade.”
Philippa turned to Mike and asked, “Does your family know you’re gay?”
“Hell no. They don’t know I’m gay, don’t know I do porn. I don’t care what my dad thinks, but it would upset my sister too much. My mom’s dead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Happened when I was a kid.”
There was an awkward pause before Philippa said, “My mom still thinks I’m a hairdresser.”
“Billy, dear,” Sasha said across the table. “I was thinking we should spice up your career, do something to get you some attention. How about a bi film? I’ve got yet another great title in mind. Bi Bi Billy. You could do a three-way with a hot bi top and one of the major leading ladies from straight porn. You wouldn’t have to fuck her, if you didn’t want. Just suck a little nipple and maybe eat some pussy. Do you think you could do that?”
Mike smiled. “That’s a good idea.” He liked that Sasha was looking out for him. A bi film would get him some press, get people talking about him again, and it might even increase his audience.
“Of course, this would have to be after your upcoming film with Magnum Man,” Sasha said.
Mike was confused. “What?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” She looked around at everyone. “Ah yes, of course. It’s my surprise for Billy. Let me tell all of you at the same time. Ladies and Mental Men, an announcement!” She picked up her spoon and chimed it against her wine glass several times. “I’ve arranged something for my darling Billy. Call it a welcome home present. I met with Gavin Kennedy of Magnum Man while Billy was off in Ohio.” She snapped her fingers in the air. “Got it, just like that.”
“Got what?” Mike asked.
“Billy Knight in the next major Magnum Man production, of course. Working with somebody you really like, Billy. Somebody who will fuck you better than Ricardo here, I’m sure.”
Rafael leaned forward quickly. “Who?”
“Oh, just some superstar top.” Sasha looked down at her green fingernails.
“Who?” Mike asked.
Sasha looked up. “Six foot two. Massive amounts of muscle. Permanent dark stubble. Gorgeous hairy chest. Ten magnificent inches and the Best Sexual Performer of 1991.”
“You got me a scene with Luke Champion?” Mike said.
“Two scenes, in fact. Plus a box cover photo with him. And don’t worry, they’ll be paying you at superstar rates. Really, what do you even need an agent for when you’ve got me?”
“No way!” Mike was thrilled. This would help his career enormously. All at once he no longer felt at risk of fading. “Thank you so much, Sasha.”
“My pleasure, baby. Well, no. I take that back. The pleasure will be all yours. Ten thick inches worth.” She smiled at Rafael.
Mike got up from the head of the table and walked around to the opposite end. He leaned down and gave Sasha a hug, then a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best.”
“Best Director? Yes. I know.”
“Best Friend,” he said. Then he caught Rafael’s eye and realized Rafael did not look happy.
“Let’s celebrate with dessert,” Sasha said, and she started clearing plates. Mike helped. Everyone congratulated him, except for Rafael.
In the kitchen with Sasha, Mike saw that the coffee pot was already on. He started pulling out the coffee cups, milk, and sugar. Sasha was putting leftover food into plastic containers.
“How much, Sasha?” Mike asked her quietly. “How much will they pay me?”
Sasha whispered. “$2,000 a scene. And you’ve got two scenes. One oral and one anal.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. They’re banking on you, what with your recent award and your ‘Best of’ about to be released by Cougar. They expect sales. If we manage your career well, we can get you up to what Luke makes. It’s simple math. If we can increase your popularity, you’ll sell even more videos and the studios will be happy to pay you more. We need to get you out on the dancing circuit more, make it a big deal when Billy Knight comes to town. Just you watch. We’ll get you earning as much as a superstar top in no time.”
Suddenly Sasha turned and, as if by magic, she pulled out of the refrigerator five perfect bowls of chocolate mousse topped with strawberries. She began arranging sp
rigs of mint on top of each bowl.
He looked at her closely, at the 1950’s TV mom outfit, at her belly, her thick legs under her flesh-colored nylons. She amazed him. He felt so deeply grateful to her, for the deal with Magnum, the scenes with Luke, this dinner, everything. He wished he could repay her. He knew that if he said, ‘Let’s go have sex now,’ she’d say yes. There were times that he almost thought that he would, that he should. She’d be happy if he did, even if he said it right now, here in front of everyone. She’d follow him into his bedroom and tell the guests to help themselves to dessert. But the simple fact was that he loved her too much for sex.
She began carrying the mousse bowls out and placing them in front of people at the table. Everyone was saying how beautiful they looked.
An incredible peace came over Mike, and he stood in the kitchen faintly nodding to himself as he watched the scene out in the dining room. There was no way around it. Sasha was the closest thing he had to a parent. His own family was lost to him. Only by coming home early did he manage to avoid a scene. Of course he would keep in touch with his sister, but he understood now that Sasha Zahore was only the real family he had.
Along with this realization came another one, like the opposite side of the same coin: he would have to leave her some day. It would break her heart, he knew, but at some point it would have to happen. You couldn’t live with your parents forever. You had to grow up. He dreaded leaving, not because he would miss her, but because he knew that Sasha would do everything in her power to stop him.
Mike still wanted to find a real lover, something more than Rafael but not at all like Sasha or Dale. He wanted someone constant at his side. Not a fuck buddy. Not a parent. He wanted something like the feeling he once had with Kerry. How strange, he thought, as Sasha set down the last of the desserts, that after all these years he still thought of Kerry, still missed him.
“Do you have the coffee, baby?” Sasha said. She was standing in front of him.
He looked at her and smiled. “Yeah.”
He poured the coffee into the five cups and carried them out on a tray. Sasha, walking just behind him, carried the milk and sugar.