All Queers Must Die

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All Queers Must Die Page 29

by Gerald Lopez


  “Yes, Sir,” Bart said.

  “Why don’t you go take a nap, then,” Judge Haymond said.

  “Better yet, see if you can get a massage at the spa,” Mrs. Haymond said.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Bart said. He called the resort on his cell phone and booked a massage appointment, then hung up and turned to the Haymonds. “They can see me in half an hour. Thanks for your help… both of you.”

  He stood and hugged the judge, then his wife.

  “Remember to keep emotions out of it,” Judge Haymond said. “You’ve done an admirable job of doing that so far… but you need to keep it up until things here are over. Then you can have yourself a good cry.”

  “A good cry?” Bart said.

  “There were days when my job got to me, and I couldn’t afford to feel anything,” Judge Haymond said. “But good humans have to acknowledge their emotions. At the end of the day, when I was alone in my office I had to acknowledge mine or go crazy. I’m not ashamed to say I’ve wept in private over things I’d seen and heard, but could do nothing about. When your day to weep comes… don’t fight it or the part of you that makes you human and special will fade away. I guarantee you, it won’t make you less of a man because you cry.”

  Mrs. Haymond put an arm around her husband then spoke to Bart. “And that advice is coming from the strongest man I’ve ever known.”

  “He’s the strongest man I’ve ever known too,” Bart said, then turned to leave.

  “We’ll both be praying for you,” Mrs. Haymond said.

  “Light a few candles for me while you’re at it,” Bart said.

  AS HE DROVE back to the resort, Bart did feel like the burden on his shoulders had grown lighter. The judge had always been like a father to him, since his own father had died when he was young, and he took his words to heart.

  OUT OF THE corner of his eye, Bart saw a woman running toward him as he walked down the path toward the freestanding, independently owned spa and salon.

  “Jeremy! A moment, please, Mr. Jeremy!”

  A transformed Lorena was standing in front of Bart. Her hair was down and cascaded in loose curls to her shoulders. She wore a simple, but extremely flattering, strapless, seafoam green dress and heels.

  “I have an appointment to get to,” Bart said.

  “I will only be a minute,” Lorena said. “I really need to apologize about how I acted yesterday, when we first met. That’s not usually who I am. I’ve worked very hard to start a business I can be proud of, and the guilt over spending time away from my children can sometimes make me overprotective and even crazy. You can understand that, right?”

  Bart looked at her; she had a cool, relaxed demeanor, unlike yesterday. “I can understand that, and I guess the rumors about Mr. Orion have been floating around for a while now.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t fair of me to blame you and the resort for his behavior,” Lorena said. “You can’t control how people act. If you could, I wouldn’t have been able to slap the crap out of Mr. Orion in the chapel.”

  “True,” Bart said. “But we have a plan to make sure Mr. Orion no longer frequents this resort. We’ll be setting it into motion tomorrow night.”

  “That’s good,” Lorena said. “I guess I just didn’t give you enough time to deal with the problem. Especially since you’ve dealt with so much already… having been in the accident and being an amnesiac.”

  “News certainly gets around in this place,” Bart said. “Have you heard anything else I should be aware of?”

  “Not lately,” Lorena said. “I know that Lisa Kristoff was mad when she walked in the salon to meet with Julia Jansen a few minutes ago, but that probably just has to do with business.”

  “Business?” Bart said.

  “I forgot you have amnesia,” Lorena said. “Lisa and Julia each own 50 percent of both this salon and spa, and the one in town. Marcus Kristoff is one of the investors in Julia’s salon only venture, which doesn’t include a spa. The first of those is in Jacksonville. Both the Kristoffs are silent partners, though not always as silent as Julia would like.”

  “Do you know who the other partners in Julia’s salon venture are, Lorena?”

  “Mr. Orion invested some money in her venture, but not a lot. And of course Simon invested. I’m not sure who else is involved.”

  “You and George didn’t want to invest?” Bart said.

  “I put all my money into my cleaning business,” Lorena said. “George made no contributions, and his name is nowhere on my business. And I’m glad about that.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I’m having George presented with divorce papers tonight and seeking sole custody of the children.”

  “Whoa!” Bart said. “Does he even know what’s coming?”

  “No, which is good for several reasons,” Lorena said. “And the surprise of it gives me an edge over him.”

  “He told me his family was very important to him,” Bart said. “Everything to him, in fact.”

  “He should’ve thought about that before he did things that made me stop trusting him,” Lorena said. “I’m sorry, Jeremy, I have an appointment in town. Please don’t tell George anything about the papers.”

  “Hey, it’s none of my business,” Bart said. “I just feel sorry for the guy, that’s all.”

  “Don’t,” Lorena said. “He has his childhood friend Joe to comfort him.”

  Bart couldn’t resist digging into her statement, but was careful not to reveal what he knew about her and Joe. “Lorena, I heard you say something about that yesterday when you said Joe was George’s ‘lover boy’”, but I have to tell you, I don’t think either guy comes across as gay.”

  “Maybe your gaydar is off.”

  “That’s a possibility, but Joe seemed a lot more concerned about you yesterday than his so-called best friend.”

  “The man’s a good actor,” Lorena said. “So good that I almost believed he had feelings for me that went beyond friendship. I even tried my best to seduce him in order to save my marriage. He played along for a while, but his heart was never in it. Now, I really do have to go. I enjoyed our talk; hopefully, we can do this again someday.”

  “I would like that,” Bart said.

  Lorena walked away, and Bart continued down the walkway to a freestanding building surrounded by palm trees. A woman was coming out of the building as he walked inside. He’d barely gotten inside when Lisa and Julia walked into the room having a somewhat heated discussion.

  “Get your people in line, Julia, I don’t like having to come in and deal with things personally.”

  “Trust me, Lisa, I’ll find out who’s behind everything and soon,” Julia said. “I don’t like being made a fool of, or being made to look like a bad businesswoman.”

  “I wouldn’t think you would,” Lisa said. “Especially, since you’re usually so good at what you do.”

  Both women were smartly dressed: Lisa wore a white pantsuit with matching linen jacket, white brimmed hat and gold wedges, while Julia wore a white wrap dress and heels. Lisa went to Bart, squeezed his arm as a greeting, and kissed his cheek.

  “I’m in a rush, or I’d stay and chat,” Lisa said to Bart before leaving.

  Julia walked over to Bart and smiled.

  “Fun day, I can see,” Bart said.

  “If you don’t mind my saying, you definitely look like you need that massage, Jeremy.”

  “Nice way of buttering up the customer,” Bart said, and smiled.

  “You told me once that you always preferred the truth, rather than a hollow compliment,” Julia said. “Follow me, please.”

  Bart followed her down a hallway, to the right, and into an empty white room that had a small cabinet in one corner and a massage table in the middle of the room. There was a door in the back of the room.

  “Julia, did Simon ever find out who those people in Jacksonville were. The ones who pulled in front of us in the street?”

  “Not yet. He’s been
too busy with the Mr. Orion project and trying to help me with my business problems. Anyway, you’re here for rest and relaxation. The back door there leads to a shower for your use before and after the massage. Your therapist will be Kira. She’ll help you relax in just a few.”

  “Thanks,” Bart said.

  “Kira’s our best therapist, don’t be surprised if you end up falling asleep on the table.”

  Julia left, and Bart headed to the shower. After all the surprises of the day, and what was yet to come, he really needed the time to relax. His thoughts turned to George, and he wondered how the man would deal with getting divorce papers. It wouldn’t be a pretty scene. Then he wondered about everything that Lorena had told him, and the words Jenna said to him on the beach came back to him—‘everybody lies’. Even Mr. Orion had told him earlier that with certain situations, it was just a matter of finding out who the liars were.

  Chapter 51

  Gethsemane

  THE MASSAGE had done wonders for Bart. Afterward, he went to the restaurant for a bite to eat. In between bites of food, he called Frank and James to check on things. Frank told him that not only had Mr. Orion not left the chapel, but he was having a very aggressive sounding argument with someone. Since there was a camera in the chapel, Frank said he had looked in on Mr. Orion, and had seen him arguing with God and demanding answers. After he made sure that God hadn’t actually shown up in the flesh, Frank gave Mr. Orion back his privacy.

  Bart laughed so hard at Frank’s comment about making sure that God hadn’t shown up that he spilled his drink on himself, and had to go to his apartment and change. On the way there, he stopped at James’s office and got the keys to the chapel doors from James, who wished him luck. Finally, he arrived back outside the doors of the chapel, dressed in shorts, a tank top and flip-flops. He’d brought a couple bottles of water, and also a towel with him in case Mr. Orion threw up again. Before entering the chapel, he pressed his ear to the door and listened for any sounds coming from inside. There was nothing, so he used the key to open the door and let himself in. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and locked it again. He left his flip flops by the side of the door, and walked down the center aisle to Mr. Orion who sat in front of the altar. He was barefoot as well.

  “It’s funny,” Mr. Orion said. “We’re both barefoot in a house of God.”

  “I don’t think he minds,” Bart said. “Besides, it’s a sign of respect to be barefoot in a holy place, and this is a sanctified holy place.”

  “You’re right of course.” Mr. Orion said, and looked up at Bart.

  Bart saw blood on his forehead. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

  “Oh yes,” Mr. Orion said, lifting his hands. Both his hands had bloodied and bruised knuckles.

  “Did you win, at least?” Bart said.

  “Can anyone win when they’re arguing with God? I mostly pounded the floor with my fists, and banged my head against it several times.”

  After sitting next to Mr. Orion, Bart opened one of the bottled waters, poured some water onto the towel he had with him, and wiped some of the blood off Mr. Orion’s forehead and knuckles.

  “I like you, Jeremy. I have since we first met. You’ve got a kind soul. The both of you do.”

  “Thank you,” Bart said. “How long have you known? And how did you know about me?”

  Mr. Orion smiled. “I liked the you from before, and I would call the out of state hospital to check on you. When there was no more news being released, I paid a visit to the hospital in person, and paid one of the orderlies for information. I don’t think the orderly, whose name is Mr. Jacob Vaselius, is a very trustworthy man. Dr. Farrow may want to know that.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell her the next time we speak. I guess, sometimes it really is that simple. Just give someone some money, and find out what you want to know.”

  “Sometimes you don’t even need to pay people, not when you can listen to them gossip for free,” Mr. Orion said, and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Bart said.

  “Ouch,” Mr. Orion said, lifting his hand.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rub that hand so hard that it hurt,” Bart said. “Your knuckles are more raw than I initially thought.”

  “A while back, I was missing some things in my room, and thought one of the maids might be stealing,” Mr. Orion said. “So when I went out, I left my hidden cameras on, and you’d be surprised what I discovered.”

  “More than a thief, I’m assuming,” Bart said.

  “There were two maids talking to one another in Spanish. I know Spanish, so when I watched the film, I could understand them. They said the usual things, like calling me a pervert and sick, et cetera; then I heard something new. One of the maids said that Joe the valet had told her something that George mentioned to him. Lisa and Marcus had hired Simon to provide me with hustler boys that just looked underage, but were in fact legal.”

  “I was wondering how you’d found that out, and how you knew it was Lisa and Marcus behind it. I’d only heard it was Lisa.”

  “Mostly Lisa, if not entirely her,” Mr. Orion said. “She is one smart lady, as I’ve said before. Don’t get me wrong, my initial reaction at being fooled was one of anger. Then I laughed when I realized how smart they’d been. They could’ve kicked me out and been done with the whole mess, but Marcus is loyal to those who’ve helped him. He’s loyal to the memory of us as children in that orphanage.”

  “Your whole life all comes down to that one moment in time, doesn’t it?” Bart said, gently dabbing at the last bit of blood on Mr. Orion’s hand.

  There were tears flowing from Mr. Orion’s eyes as he looked at Bart, and his voice trembled when he spoke. “My whole life has been defined by that one horrible event. I asked ‘him’ why?” He looked at the altar. “I asked God why it happened? We were just children… innocent children. I wasn’t a monster. Not then. Where was he?” He banged his fist on the hard tile floor and scraped it against the rough grout, causing it to bleed again.

  Bart gently pressed his wet towel against the bloody area. When the spot was dry, without even thinking about it, he kissed it… as a loving parent would do for a hurt child. Then he held Mr. Orion’s hand softly.

  “It all came back to me while I sat here, Bart. Oh, forgive me, I didn’t mean to use your real name—it just slipped out.”

  “It’s alright, Ernesto,” Bart said, then smiled. “Just don’t let it happen again, or else,” he said jokingly, while he continued to hold Mr. Orion’s hand.

  Mr. Orion smiled at him, then spoke. “As I said, it all came back to me as I sat here. I’ve tried so hard to forget what happened, or at least to not remember the details. But the memories flooded my mind; the fear I felt. I remembered the sweat from the hunt and my legs actually started to ache like they did when I was running from the soldiers. My shoulders felt the weight of Marcus again. I had carried him part of the way, when he couldn’t run any longer.” He gulped loudly. “The smells came back… the horrible smell of human flesh being cooked. And the sound of my friends screaming. I remembered names I’d forgotten, and saw faces of old friends.” He removed his hand from Bart’s grip, covered his face with both his hands, and cried from the heart.

  Bart pulled the man to him and hugged him, as if trying to protect him from the past. He could feel Mr. Orion’s sweaty and hot body trembling… and held him tighter.

  “How could I have forgotten them,” Mr. Orion said, with his head on Bart’s shoulder.

  Bart felt as if he was on autopilot. He was reacting, but not feeling—like the judge had told him. He ran his hand through Mr. Orion’s hair. The man was weeping and bleeding, he truly was in his own Gethsemane, fighting for his soul. Mr. Orion let go of Bart, but sat close to him as he spoke.

  “When my soldier came to me, I thought he looked like a prince from a fairy tale. He had beautiful light blond hair, and the brightest blue eyes. I remember losing myself in his eyes, and I thought I remembered wi
lling him to take me.”

  “What do you mean when you say ‘willing him’?” Bart said.

  “In all my memories of the event, I saw myself almost hypnotizing him with my eyes, telling him to have his way with me. But today ‘he’… God, reminded me of the truth. That soldier was no fairy tale prince, and I was a terrified child looking for someone to help me and my friends. I didn’t will him to do what he did.” The tears came again. “He hurt me! It hurt what he did to me! It wasn’t heroic, romantic, loving, or kind… it was savage and brutal. And he didn’t keep me around all those years out of love. I was just his lapdog. someone to adore and amuse him. Someone for him to shape into another version of himself.”

  Bart looked at him and could see a change. The type of change someone underwent when they’d been exposed to absolute truth, after living a lie for so long. “So you and God definitely communed while I was gone,” Bart said.

  “‘He’ showed me the truth,” Mr. Orion said. “I fought with ‘him’ and begged and pleaded, but in the end, all it took was for me to be silent. All the fighting was me fighting the truth, and it wasn’t until I was too tired to struggle that ‘he’ could show me the truth. I’ve always heard of God being strong and angry, but I never knew ‘he’ could be so soft and gentle.”

  “And ‘he’ showed you the truth?”

  “Yes, I don’t doubt that ‘he’ did, my friend,” Mr. Orion said. “For years, I wondered how those men could do what they did to my friends. I wondered how they could hate so much. But today, I saw that I was wrong. For the first time in my life, I could feel what they felt and understand it.”

  “What did they feel?” Bart said.

  “Nothing,” Mr. Orion said. “They didn’t even see us as human. I remembered today what I felt back then, but didn’t understand, because I was a child… and that was the empty coldness, which those soldiers felt toward us. I couldn’t even begin to explain to you how little we mattered. What happened was never about us. None of it was about us—because we didn’t matter to them.” He shivered, and Bart held him again.

 

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