by Gerald Lopez
“I have no idea. The only thing I know is he’s been going out a lot on his own lately, and coming back looking upset and shaken.”
“Then I’m thinking it’s time I talked to a friendly valet named George. Frank, you know that Mr. Orion will have his sights set on you too, if I tell him about the surveillance videos.”
“Hey, I was just doing my job,” he chuckled. “That was a bad joke, bud. I’ll watch my back. You just do what you have to do to get results here.”
“Will do,” Bart said. “I love you, man—never forget that.”
“OK—don’t get all mushy,” Frank said. “Go talk to George.”
Bart gave Frank a hug, then went to find George.
GEORGE WAS at the valet station by the resort’s entrance when Bart walked up to him.
“Hey, boss man,” George said. He smiled toward Bart, walked up to him, and shook his hand. “How goes it, Jeremy?”
“It goes fine, George. Thank you for asking.” Bart looked around to make sure there was no one within earshot, then asked a question. “I hear one of our guests isn’t very happy. And I’m hoping you can tell me why.”
Chapter 17
Good, Evil, and Everything in Between
“I’M HAPPY to help you… if I can,” George said. “Who’s the guest, if I may ask?”
“Hank Orion.”
“Oh, geez, now he is a mystery,” George said. “The guy usually takes his ‘boys’ with him everywhere, but not lately. I know he’s been visiting the local fortune-teller Hannah Wynnhart… I’m guessing she’s not giving him very happy fortunes.”
“I guess not, but would something like that really bother a man like Mr. Orion,” Bart said.
“Oh, yes, Sir. Latin people can be very superstitious, and some of them take that occult stuff very seriously—I know… I’m Puerto-Rican. I don’t go for any of that stuff myself, but there are people in my family that do. If one of those spiritualist type people told my Aunt Miranda that she had only six days to live—by the fifth day, she’d have her coffin picked out and funeral planned.”
“Isn’t that something?” Bart said. “I knew people believed in that stuff, but—oh, well. Was there anything else you might’ve noticed? I’m told Mr. Orion was usually more upset when he returned from having been out—surely all his visits weren’t to the local fortune-teller.”
“I did notice that when he returned from having gone out earlier today he was carrying a bag from the pharmacy, and there were prescription labels stapled to the outside of it,” George said. “Crap! I guess I shouldn’t have used that example about someone dying.”
Bart patted George on the back, smiled, then spoke. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks, you’ve been a big help, George.”
“Anytime,” George said. “And you’re welcome.”
BART FELT even more determined to speak with Mr. Orion since hearing what George had to say. It looked like, for the moment… he had an opening to get to Mr. Orion and find out what he knew. The sex he’d engaged in with Reese, and flirting with James were nothing to Bart—just a means to an end… but what was coming next, really did have him crossing the line. The problem was he’d been given no choice. While he walked to the back of the resort where the suites were located, he thought more about what Frank and George had said. Both of them had painted a picture of Mr. Orion as a man who was way off his game and vulnerable at the moment.
The Maynard Beach Resort was a typical resort—the central part of the main building was shaped like the letter ‘U’ with the lobby in front, and a long wing of rooms, shops, and restaurants on each side. At the end of each wing was a long horizontal wing in which all the rooms had beachfront views, and the bottom floor rooms had small patios. Then at the end of those suites, the wings went vertically back to the front—the rooms there opened onto courtyards with pools—like the one where Jeremy’s welcome back party was held. Mr. Orion was staying in one of the beachfront suites, which had its own private patio with a hot tub.
Bart felt the cool afternoon breeze blow across his shoulders. He still needed time to get ready to go clubbing with Reese and the gang—but for now, Mr. Orion had to be the priority. Before knocking on the front door of the suite, Bart took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He knew he couldn’t show any weakness in front of a man like Hank Orion. Several minutes later—after Bart knocked a couple times, the door opened.
“Hello, Mr. Orion,” Bart said. “I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time?”
“Sure, come on in, Jeremy,” Mr. Orion said, opening the door fully to let Bart inside.
Bart looked at him, smiled, and entered the suite. Mr. Orion was dressed in a white, terry cloth robe, which the resort provided to all of its guests. His hair was wet, and he had slippers on his feet.
“My grandsons and I were enjoying the hot tub when I heard your knock, Jeremy. What can I do for you?”
Bart followed him out the French doors, which were located in the back of the room and opened onto the patio. Mr. Orion’s two ‘grandsons’ were in the hot tub. One was sitting on the edge of it; the other stood up in the middle of the hot tub and waved to Bart. Both wore white Speedos, which had become completely transparent from being wet. After waving, Bart turned to Mr. Orion with a serious expression on his face.
“In answer to your question, Mr. Orion, I just wanted to talk to you about some video surveillance my security guy showed me today involving your grandsons and yourself.”
“Why don’t we talk about that inside?” Mr. Orion said.
The two walked back inside the living room of the suite, and Mr. Orion offered Bart a side chair while he sat on the sofa. From where they sat, they could see the two boys outside in the hot tub.
“So, what is it you want, Mr. Kent—money, a favor—what?”
“Then you’re not going to try and deny anything I might’ve seen on video,” Bart said.
“I don’t know what you’ve seen,” Mr. Orion said. “And quite frankly, I don’t care.”
Bart looked into the man’s vibrant green eyes and decided to try and shake him up with a stray comment or two. “You’re a handsome man, Hank—if I may call you that? Why boys, when you can probably have any number of men… and not have to pay for their company?”
“Thank you for the compliment; you may call me Hank; and paying for it keeps things honest. Anyone who’d want to sleep with me would be after something anyway—at least with my boys, I know it’s just money they’re after.”
“You’re not only handsome, but also a very cool man, Hank,” Bart said. “There’s no shaking you up, is there?” Mr. Orion just laughed, so Bart continued. “They’re pretty enough I suppose—your boys; but you didn’t answer my question—why boys when you can have men? You’re in great shape and—”
“I am, aren’t I?” Mr. Orion said.
To prove his point, Mr. Orion stood, dropped his robe, then slowly turned around so Bart could see him from every angle. Mr. Orion had no fat on him—he was lean with an all-over tan. The only mass on him was his round ass and beefy chest, but even those areas were solid. When he was done, Mr. Orion tossed his robe on the sofa and sat back on it still naked.
“Impressive… and by impressive, I do mean everything is impressive,” Bart said, noticeably looking at Mr. Orion’s long, thick, uncut cock and low hanging balls. “It’s wasted on boys.”
“Are you volunteering to take the boys’ place?” Mr. Orion said, then noticed Bart smile in response. “Oh, you are. You’ve really come into your own since getting into such great shape, Jeremy. You’re a beautiful man… so beautiful that you make me wish I was interested enough to test your interest in me.”
“It’s a shame, because we would be hot together, Hank,” Bart said.
“Hotter than you and Reese?” Mr. Orion said.
“Reese is fun, but he’s just a boy; and—unlike you, I prefer men.”
“Wow,” Mr. Orion said. “Are you using the surveillance videos you sa
w to try and make a play for me?”
Mr. Orion’s comment surprised Bart, but made for a great opening. “I’m sorry, Hank—I just thought—”
“Thought what,” Mr. Orion said. “That you could change me… make me a better man… transform me from an evildoer into a handsome prince.”
“I don’t know,” Bart said. “I only wish I was younger, so I could please you. That’s all we hotel managers really care about—pleasing our guests in every way possible.”
“How do you know whether or not we even got along before, Jeremy?” Mr. Orion said.
“I don’t remember anything from that time… I just know the here and now,” Bart said. “I’m sorry if I hurt or insulted you in some way when I was here before.”
“No, don’t worry about that time,” Mr. Orion said. “You seem to have come back a better man—freer somehow.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Bart said. “I’m beginning to feel more embarrassed than anything else at present.”
“There’s no need to feel embarrassed, my friend,” Mr. Orion said. “To be 100 percent honest with you, I don’t seem to be able to perform with boys past a certain age. Hell, I’m luckier than some people I know—some of them can’t perform at all.” He laughed. “There are people that would say I’m sick because of what I do; and maybe they aren’t wrong. But I don’t hurt those boys… and I pay them well. Besides, being males… you and I know we start thinking about sex from an early age. We crave it and desire it from the time we first discover we have a penis. So, why pretend young boys don’t think about sex?”
“You’re telling no lies there, my friend,” Bart said, playing along. “Screw those experts who say it damages a child’s psyche to have sex at a young age.”
“Damage!” Mr. Orion said, standing suddenly. “What the hell do the so-called experts know about damage? The so-called medical experts working alongside the religious zealots are trying to take away all of our freedoms. And they’re the biggest hypocrites of all—I can’t tell you how many priests, there are in my country—that I know of personally, who abused and continue to abuse young boys and girls. And I’m talking about real abuse—beatings and cruelty you couldn’t imagine. The experts are just as bad. They’d come into our towns trying to tell everyone how to live and behave, then we’d discover they were the ones breaking all the rules.”
“They had no respect for the rules of God and humanity, huh?” Bart said.
“God!” Mr. Orion said. “Ha! I don’t believe there is a God—where was he when the good priests and nuns of our orphanage were killed? Where was he when the soldiers hunted us down and did what they did?”
Mr. Orion ran a trembling hand through his hair nervously. The man was more shook up than Bart had originally thought… but why? It seemed to Bart that it wasn’t from anything he’d said or done. He continued to listen as Mr. Orion took a desperate trip down memory lane.
“Who is God, and where was he when I was brutally raped as a ten year old boy? I cried out to him as I was being ripped apart… there are times when I can still feel that pain, and it takes everything inside me not to scream out loud.”
Bart involuntarily shuddered, and Mr. Orion noticed. He walked to Bart and ran his fingers through Bart’s hair. “You’re lucky to be living in a better place, where the people are protected more.” He caressed Bart’s face with one hand. “My God, you are so beautiful… you look so much like him. Stand up and let me really look at you.”
Bart stood up nervously, while wondering if the man in front of him was having some sort of mental breakdown. He stood silently while Mr. Orion walked around him, looking him up and down.
“Take your clothes off—it’s OK,” Mr. Orion said. “I just want to see if your body is like his was.”
Bart kicked off his flip-flops and unbuttoned his shirt, which Mr. Orion took and placed on the table. Turning back to Bart, Mr. Orion ran his flat palm down Bart’s smooth chest, then spoke.
“You’re smooth like he was, but more defined—he didn’t have six-pack abs like you do.” He unbuttoned Bart’s shorts and let them drop to the floor, then slipped his hand inside Bart’s underwear. “Nice underwear… my general had nice underwear. I used to undress him every night—that was my job.” After pulling down Bart’s underwear; he picked both it and the shorts off the floor and put them on top of the shirt, which he’d left on the table. He ran a hand through Bart’s hair again. “He had blond hair the same color as yours—it was even cut short on the sides like yours… my general. Only he wasn’t really mine.”
“No?” Bart said.
“No. He saved me at the orphanage… the man could be good, evil, and everything in between. After the second soldier was done with me that night, my general took me for his own and wouldn’t let the others touch me. I was his property from that day forward, until the day he died. He wasn’t as old as the other generals—maybe eighteen or nineteen—but he was smarter and more ambitious. My general became one of the great ones, and I was part of his household.”
“Was he good to you?” Bart said.
“You wouldn’t think so,” Mr. Orion said. “He really did save me for himself in the beginning, I’m sure. But he was more gentle with me than the others—it didn’t hurt as much, and there wasn’t as much blood.”
Bart shuddered again, and Mr. Orion hugged him tightly.
“It’s horrible… I know, Jeremy. I also know you can’t understand this, but I loved the man… he was beautiful and stylish—and I was his. Nobody else even dared to look at me the wrong way, because I was his boy.” Feeling Bart shudder again, he held him closer. “He even put the two brothers with two high ranking officers when I asked him to do it as a favor for me. We were safe—as safe as any of us could be in our country at that time—and I loved him for that. My general helped me to rise through the ranks… helped me become his equal… then his better when all was said and done. It was horrible and not normal, but it was all I had to hang on to… he was all I had to hang on to.” He started to weep. “I couldn’t let them do it… I couldn’t let them eat me like the other kids, so I held on to you… held on to my general… loved my general in order to live… to survive.”
Bart felt a tear fall from his eye, and found himself hugging Mr. Orion back—or at least the part of Mr. Orion that was still the injured and helpless child.
“I love you, my general,” Mr. Orion said, whispering in Bart’s ear. “Say that you love me too… please say that you love me.”
“I love you,” Bart said.
“Liar!” Mr. Orion said.
Chapter 18
Ernesto
“NO!” MR. Orion said. “It’s a lie, unless you call me by my name… my real name—Ernesto. Say it! Please say you love me again, my general.” He held Bart even closer and laid his head on his shoulder.
Bart stroked Mr. Orion’s hair, then spoke gently, “I love you, Ernesto.”
Mr. Orion wept, and his body trembled; Bart just held him.
The French doors opened, and the boy who’d been sitting on the edge of the hot tub walked into the room.
“Is everything alright in here?” the boy said.
Mr. Orion spoke without lifting his head. “Yes, now get out until I call for you.”
“Ok, sorry… I was just concerned,” the boy said.
“There’s no need for you to be concerned—you’ll get your money,” Mr. Orion said, holding tightly onto Bart.
The boy stormed out, and Mr. Orion raised his head and spoke. “Jeremy, can you help me to the sofa please. It’s this medicine… it makes me dizzy.”
Bart helped Mr. Orion to the extra wide sofa and Mr. Orion tossed the cushions off, leaving a flat wide surface to lay on. The living room was also made to function as additional sleeping quarters when there were extra guests; and the sofa converted into a bed once the cushions were off. Both men were silent, as they sat on the sofa turned bed, then Mr. Orion began weeping into his hands. Not knowing what else to do, Bart put his ar
m around him and let him weep on his shoulder again. After a while, Bart was getting tired, and lay across the sofa horizontally, his head on one end and his feet on the other end. Mr. Orion lay down next to him, and Bart wrapped his arms around him. No words were exchanged for several minutes, until Mr. Orion finally spoke.
“I’m on all kinds of pain medications. The doctors say I have… maybe only weeks to live.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Bart said.
“An inoperable tumor,” Mr. Orion said. He laughed, then continued speaking. “My darling Magdalena knew it was coming—she even warned me about it.”
“How could she know?” Bart said.
“Magdalena always knows—or rather, her fortune-telling gypsy friend knows,” Mr. Orion said, then laughed again. “Oh, God, that old woman… Serafina is her name… good ole’ Serafina. She knew which brother Magdalena would end up with before anyone else even saw it coming. I knew both the brothers loved her—she was beautiful. Her daughter Rachel is pretty enough, but not as great a beauty as her mother was in her youth. Every man wanted Magdalena—and most men could have her… for a price. The younger brother married her first, but he couldn’t keep her. The older brother always got whoever and whatever he wanted.”
Bart found the story interesting, but was worried Mr. Orion was straying too far from what was important, so he spoke up. “So, then Serafina predicted your ill-health and told Magdalena, who in turn told you.”
“The cards told Serafina—the cards have never betrayed her. Oh, sweet Magdalena, I suppose we’ve all done you wrong,” Mr. Orion said, before rubbing his forehead with his hand. “I’m sorry, Jeremy, my mind and thoughts seem to stray more and more each day.”
“Hank,” Bart said the name ‘Hank’ hoping to jar Mr. Orion back to the present reality. “Did you, or someone you know, have me drugged?”
Mr. Orion laughed loudly. “My God! You are nothing, if not direct. And the answer is no, I wouldn’t waste valuable merchandise on someone I wanted to do away with—and someone was definitely looking to do away with you and your pretty friend Delia. If I, or someone I knew, wanted you dead or out of the way, you wouldn’t be lying here with me right now. I would’ve had you squashed like I would squash a small, annoying, bug.”