by J.R. Bowles
CHAPTER 7
Billy Clement walked down the gangplank of the Coast Guard cutter. He didn't know where he was going he just knew he had to get off of the ship. He was feeling uneasy.
Usually Billy would walk to the ferry terminal and catch the boat over to Manhattan, but tonight he decided he would drive. He wasn't sure why he wanted to drive; there was no particular reason, he just had to do it although he usually hated to drive into the city. Where he was going, he had no idea; he just knew that he had to get off the ship. He was going stir crazy. On Saturday night he usually didn't go anywhere, because as a Seaman, just out of Boot Camp eight months ago, he had a truck payment and rarely had any money he could waste. He had been promoted pretty fast after boot camp; now he was just waiting around until he could go to school and learn how to be a yeoman. The other guys called yeomen, secretaries but he looked at the yeomen and told himself the yeomen were inside an office even while at sea: nice and warm in the winter and cool in the summer. That was what he wanted to do. Besides, it would probably help him get a job after he got out of the Coast Guard.
Billy decided to drive around the Coast Guard base for a few minutes as he glanced at his watch. It was still several minutes until the next boat would arrive. He got into his truck and started out. He loved his truck, and although he had bought it used, he had put just about every spare cent he could into it. He hated to take it into Manhattan. He still wasn't sure why he was going to drive into the city. Hell, even if he found a parking place in the city that didn't cost him what seemed like half of his salary, he didn't like to drive it in because his insurance deductible was sky-high, since that was the only way he could afford insurance.
As Billy pulled into the parking lot the ferry boat was just pulling into the Island's terminal. He sat there for a minute, and then changed his mind. He didn't want to go into the city. He must be going loco to want to endanger his truck. Maybe he would go back to the ship and park his truck, then walk over to the club. He wasn't old enough to drink legally yet, although at twenty he was no stranger to alcohol. He really didn't like the club so much, now that they had moved the enlisted club into the same building as the Chief's Club. The Chiefs were a bunch of obnoxious assholes, he thought, and they were worse when they got drunk. There were a few exceptions, but not many―or at least he hadn't met many exceptions.
Billy had started to pull out of the parking lot when he saw a man struggling with two heavy-looking suitcases and a briefcase. As Billy looked at him he could tell the man wasn't in the military. His hair was just a touch to long. Being from the south, Billy had been brought up to help people when they appeared to need it. He pulled up beside the man and rolled down his window.
“Looks like you got your hands full. Can I give you a lift?” Billy asked the man.
John Fleuric looked around at the young kid in the truck. “Sure, I would appreciate it. I'm going over to the Motel. I'm not even sure where it is though.” John tossed his bags into the back of the truck.
“No problem. I know where it's at.” Billy answered.
As John got into the truck he noticed the Virginia license plate. John remembered that when he left the airport he had made a silent wish he wouldn't have to lug his bags all over the island. His secretary, Sheila, had made his travel arrangements and had told him the Coast Guard's local bus system didn't run after six P.M., so he should travel light, because he would probably have to drag his luggage across the island to the motel.
“Thanks again.” John said as he closed the truck door. “Nice truck you got here.”
“Thanks. I got it about seven months ago just after I got out of Boot Camp. Bought it back home.” Billy replied as he put the truck into gear.
“Back home?” John turned to look at the boy. “Let me guess. You sound as if you're from the mountains of Virginia. Am I right?” John asked, putting together the tags with the boy's heavy mountain drawl.
“That's right. Blacksburg, Virginia. Close to Roanoke. Have you ever heard of it?”
“I went to school in Radford. We used to go over to Virginia Tech to watch the football games. Of course that's been about eight years ago,” John said as he rolled the truck window down.
“The motel ain't far, but the speed limit on the island's only fifteen so it'll take us about ten minutes at a snail's pace to get there,” Billy said. “I reckoned I had lost most of my accent when I come in the Guard, but I guess I didn't.”
“You don't have that much of an accent. After living in Radford I remember the accent; it's very distinct. I took a course where we studied phonetics of different English-speaking dialects. I even use the phonetics to program talking computers. Not just the speech, but the sound of the speech. How about you? What do you do?”
“Basically whatever they tell me to do. Chip and paint mostly. Clean a lot. Being a seaman is just about as low as you can get. Except Seaman Apprentice. I just got promoted to Seaman on the sixteenth. I'm on that cutter there.” Billy pointed to a white ship with an orange stripe on its hull.
“By the way, my name's John, John Fleuric.”
“Pleased to meet you. I'm Billy Clement.” Billy pulled into the parking lot of the motel and stopped; then held out his hand to John.
John clasped the young man's hand. “Thanks for the ride, Billy.” Then John realized he didn't have anything to do and he wouldn't mind having a little company. “Is there anywhere to get a drink on the island?” he asked, hoping Billy would take the initiative and offer his friendship.
“There's three clubs.” Billy explained. “Enlisted, Chiefs and Officers. As a civilian you can go into any of them. As for me, well, they only let me go into the enlisted club. I guess the military is still one of them places they allow segregation under the disguise of calling it “rank has its privileges.” Of course it has nothing to do with race or anything like that.” Billy told John. Suddenly, without knowing why, Billy had a flash of deja’ vu―as if seeing John, he felt he had met the man somewhere before. Billy shook his head; he knew it was impossible unless he had seen him in Blacksburg. But that had been eight years ago, and Billy had been only twelve then.
“Well, it sounds interesting,” John said. “But I was just thinking of buying something to drink and sitting around my room.”
“They have a country store, kind of like 7-Eleven, but they sell liquor too.” Billy said.
“That sounds good. How do I find it?” John asked.
“I tell you what. Why don't I help you carry your bags in. You get checked in, and then I'll drive you over to it,” Billy offered.
“Okay, that sounds good.” John got out of the truck, reached into the rear, and started getting his bags.
Billy got out and grabbed a bag. “Here, let me help you.” John noticed Billy picked up the heavy bags like they were nothing.
John registered and Billy helped him take his bags to the room.
“Just set them anywhere.” John said as they entered the room. “Let's go find that drink. By the way, you wouldn't want to join me for a drink, would you? That is, unless you have other plans.”
Billy paused for a second, trying to evaluate the man. “No plans. I'd like that. Only, I just got a few dollars on me. I can put it in.” Billy offered.
“That's okay, I got it covered.” John said. “Besides, you've chauffeured me here. I owe you.”
“You don't owe me nothing.” Billy said. “Let's go.”
When they got into Billy's truck John asked, “What do you like to drink, anyway?”
“I'm an old country boy. I'll drink just about anything. Although I don't care too much for wine, it makes me sick; but I'll drink it if that's what you want.”
“Have you ever tried Vodka and tonic with a twist of lime?” John asked as Billy put the truck in gear.
“No, but I'm game. I ain't got duty tomorrow anyway, so it won't matter if I get a little hung over.”
“Well, I don't h
ave to be anywhere in the morning, but I do have a date tomorrow afternoon. That is, if she shows,” John said. “I just met her today. Besides, I think you'll find you won't get much of a hangover with this anyway.”
A date, Billy thought, good, he had been a little worried about this guy. You never knew people's motives these days.
“A date?” Billy said. “Man, you move pretty fast, or did you already know her?”
“Just met her on the plane coming up from Florida. She's a flight attendant.”
“They still got a few of them attendants that look pretty good, but most of them are old, married or some queer guy.” Billy turned to watch John's reaction. No reaction he thought; good. Then he added, “I understand they used to always look fine back when they were called stewardesses.”
“You're right. Back then was before they got into legal battles for tenure; they had weight and age standards, and no men. They did look a lot better. But with all the airlines shutting down and the way it is with most companies, last hired, is the first fired. But you're right, most of them are like faded roses. This woman though, she is pretty. She is quite fine. She's barely more than your age, maybe twenty three or four. Dark rich brown hair, hazel eyes and a beautiful complexion. Her legs are nice too. Real nice.” John watched Billy's expression.
“You're making my mouth water.” Billy replied, unaware he had actually licked his lips.
John looked around at the scenery of the island and glanced over at Billy occasionally. As he watched Billy, he had a feeling of a great energy radiating from the young man. And for a moment, when they talked about Morgan, Billy's face took on a gleam of pure lust. John had seen it before but had never been conscious of the feeling that went behind the look. He could actually feel this energy. John stared, as a momentary flash of blue energy scintillated in the air before his eyes. John jerked around to see if Billy had seen anything―but the young man was busy watching the road ahead of him.
“Hell,” Billy went on, “I ain't had much since I come in the Guard. I've seen a lot of strange things, though. But I haven't had much luck. I had this girl back home but she wrote me a “Dear John” letter. No offense, buddy,” he chuckled. “Guess she just got tired of waiting around and found somebody else. That happens a lot in the military.”
“I guess it does.” John muttered flatly. He had never had anything like that happen before. It had been a tiny, bright blast of blue light, lasting less than a second. He wondered if he needed his eyes checked.
“Like I was saying, I ain't had none in so long, it makes my nuts hurt.” Billy turned to look at John testing his reaction. “Makes me horny just to think about it.”
“Yeah I guess it does.” John said reluctantly. Today he had the first desire for sex in his life. He had always figured that sex was just a waste of time which could be spent learning, but now he was feeling different. If he met Morgan tomorrow he wasn't sure what to do. He had never even masturbated; he had tried but hadn't been able to even get an erection. He had no idea what to do with a woman.
“Here we are.” Billy pulled into a parking spot and turned off the truck. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out two dollars and some change, and handed it to John.
“It ain't much,” he said, “but pay day ain't till the first of the month.”
John looked at Billy's meager change. “That's okay, Billy, this is my treat. Besides, you helped me with my bags. I tell you what, if you're ever in Florida you can treat me.”
Billy shrugged and stuffed the money back in his pocket. “Sure thing, man, I'd be glad to.”
“I tell you what,” John said reaching for the door handle, “if you want to I'll go in and get it and you can wait here.”
“They won't sell it to you. Military gets a discount and they won't sell it to anyone without an ID card. You might want to give me the money and let me do it. You can trust me; here I'll give you the keys to my truck. Besides, this island isn't very big―you could catch me with your money before I got any distance.”
“You have been in New York too long. You don't trust anybody, do you?” John asked.
Billy looked down. “I guess not. I forget sometimes.”
“But don't you have to be twenty-one to buy here?” John asked.
“Yeah.” Billy grinned. “But I know the girl who works there on Saturdays, and if there's nobody around she'll sell it to me.
“John handed him a hundred. “Will this be enough?”
“We can get half the ship drunk on that much,” Billy grinned.
Billy went in and picked out vodka, tonic and some lime juice. They didn't have any limes. Billy waited until the store was empty and smiled at the girl behind the register. She smiled back. He took the change and got back into the truck, handing it to John.
“Why don't you keep the change, Billy. I can count it as a business expense.”
“Here, I couldn't do that.” Billy forced the money outward again.
“I tell you what, you could show me how to get to a restaurant uptown tomorrow.”
Billy stared suspiciously at John and shrugged. “Okay, but you don't have to pay me for it. I'll do it for nothing. I don't have anything else to do.”
“Use it as gas money. I could use someone to take me around. I need someone to show me around and keep me out of trouble. Besides, I've got a lot to do. I'm going to be here for eight days, maybe you could run me around? I'll pay you for it. It would save me the problem of getting a taxi. I don't feel very safe in the taxis. So few drivers speak English. You're always wondering if they're taking you where you want to go or off to mug you.”
“I know what you mean.” Billy shoved the money into his pocket. “Anything you want, John. If I can get off this week I'd be glad to drive you around. As a matter of fact, the ship's going to be in Charlie Status this week; that means we shouldn't be getting underway. I could probably take a week's leave.”
“Thanks,” John pondered the thought. “Maybe I'll take you up on it. I could pay you, say, maybe a thousand dollars. That would be to take me wherever I needed to go, and stay close if I need you. You're a pretty big man, you look like you could handle yourself in a clinch.” John muttered to himself for a second. “Uh, if you'll be my bodyguard I'll give you an extra thousand. Although I don't really expect any trouble, I will be going into the city a few times and I have quite a bit of valuable software.”
“Two thousand dollars!” Billy exclaimed. “Are you shitting me? Just point out who you want me to kill.” Billy looked at John suspiciously; this was pretty strange, but for some reason he felt he trusted this stranger. “I'll do it. I'll go to the ship in the morning and see if I can get them to cut me some leave papers. I'm sure there won't be any problem.”
“Thanks, Billy.” John said. He liked this young man; he made him feel younger than he had in years. He had spent so much of his life studying and working he had never quite learned how to play. Maybe Billy would help him; he was overdue.
They arrived back at the motel and went to John's room. It had a bath with a tub and shower and a kitchenette.
“I'll make the first drink.” John said as he opened the refrigerator and got out ice. He handed Billy the drink and ask him to test it. “Well, what do you think?”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.” Billy sipped. “I think I like it. I never was one for those sweet drinks. I usually just drink beer.” Billy sat down in a chair. “Mind if I turn on some music?”
“No, go ahead. Make yourself comfortable. I'm not going anywhere else tonight,” John added as he took off his tie and shoes. He sat down in the other chair and leaned back.
Billy followed John's lead and took off his own shoes.
As John sat across from Billy, watching him fumble with the radio, he was able to get his first good look at him. Billy was at least six four if not taller; his sandy hair was short and bleached from the weather. His muscles were lean,
with broad shoulders and chest.
“You look like you lift weights or work pretty damn hard,” John commented.
“Little of both,” Billy answered, feeling a little homophobic. “Growing up in the country you work pretty hard. I said I was from Blacksburg, but actually I grew up on a small farm just between Blacksburg and Christiansburg. I had to work pretty hard. You would never guess I was a fat kid though, would you. Where are you from?”
Billy's question flashed a joke through John's head. It was the one about the Georgia girl who had said to the Boston girl, “Where you all from?” And the Boston girl had said to the Georgia girl, “We are from a place that never ends our sentences with prepositional phrases.” And the Georgia girl said to the Boston girl, “Where you all from, Bitch!” John chuckled to himself but didn't allow Billy to see him.
He answered Billy. “I grew up in Franklin County. You know…, the moonshine capital. I guess we were neighbors. Small world.”
“I'll be dang.” Billy exclaimed. “It sure is. These city people can just be plain rude, can't they. Not like the people from Virginia. Although, you know, I think the true New Yorkers aren't too bad. It's the people from somewhere else. Most of the true New Yorkers will give you directions, stop and talk to you, but usually they're just too busy and have to keep on the go. Always moving at a fast pace.” Billy got up and said, “Ready for another one? Let me try my hand at mixing.”
“Yeah, I'm ready.” John handed him his glass.
Billy went over and started mixing. “What do you think of the music?” The music he had chosen was fusion jazz.
John smiled as he listened. He had half expected to hear country or metal.
“Nice choice of music. Very relaxing.” John complimented.
Billy handed John his drink. “Well?”
“Just right.”
Billy grinned. “I surprised you with the music, huh? “
”A little.” John laughed. It was almost as if Billy were reading his mind.
“You said you came up from Florida. Whereabouts?”
“Boca Raton.”
“I hear that's a nice place.”
“It really is.”
“Guess there must be a lot of bitches–I mean beaches.” Billy joked.
John grinned. “Both. Lots of women,” he paused. The liquor was buzzing nicely inside his head. He felt strangely detached from his voice as he spoke again. “Although, to tell you the truth, I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit it, I've never been with a woman.”
“You're kidding?” Billy said; he thought, “Uh oh, here it comes. He paused and carefully chose his words. “Uh, I don't mean to offend you, but are you gay?”
John chuckled out loud, and Billy was surprised by the reaction. He had expected John to either admit he was, or be angry for being accused of it. It wasn't the response he had expected.
“Don't worry about offending me.” John said. “You're not the first person to ask me or even accuse me of it. No, I'm not gay. I've just never had any interest in sex. At least not until today when I met Morgan on the plane.”
Billy narrowed his eyes and looked at John, unconvinced. He sat up straight and crossed his legs. “You're putting me on. You've got everything. Money, job, looks ....” He paused and cleared his throat. “I didn't mean that the way it sounded, I just meant..., well, I'm not gay either. You know what I meant. You've apparently got money, you're young, successful. You're telling me you don't have a sex drive? That's kind of hard to believe. Sex is like food. Once the umbilical cord that your mama fed you with breaks you've got to have it. It satisfies you for a while but then the hunger just comes back.”
John blinked. He suddenly realized what this young man, Billy, could teach him: how to make love to a woman. He had a date tomorrow―he glanced at his watch―it was almost tomorrow. Anyway, he had a date and he felt sure the situation of sex might arise. If it did, he didn't want to appear to be a fool. If there was anything in the world he hated, it was to feel like a fool. Personal failure was John's biggest fear. Failure in others was acceptable, but he couldn't tolerate it in himself.
John sat quietly for a moment. “Billy, I'm not joking. I'm telling you the truth.” He then told Billy about his life of celibacy. The offers he had-had, and the times when he had tried to stimulate himself but failed. It was that failure which caused him to quit trying.
Billy sat quietly, listening tentatively. He shook his head. “Wow, that's incredible. I find it hard to believe. I mean, I believe you, it's just I never met anyone with no sex drive.”
John looked at Billy solemnly. “Tell me what it's like. What should I do tomorrow?” He lowered his head in embarrassment. “I really don't know.”
“Well first of all, you don't go prepared to just jump her bones. You got to let nature take its course. Sex is natural. You have to let your emotions take over. But you have to remember to be patient and let her give you signals. Little things, like if she gets close to you and smiles, turns her head back and puts her lips together. You can see them actually form a little pucker.” Billy pursed his lips as he explained. “It means she wants you to kiss her. Then you kiss her. If she wraps her arms around you, pull her close, gently.” He grinned. “Ready for another drink? I think this is going to be a long night.”
“Sure.” John said. “Then what do you do?”
Billy laughed as he fixed them drinks. “I don't mean to offend you but this is so bizarre. I don't mean anything personal, but I remember back when me and my buddies use to talk like this. We were about twelve or so, just reaching puberty.”
He handed John the drink and sat back down. “Okay. If she doesn't pull away, but releases the kiss, hold her for a few moments and then kiss down her neck. That's very sensitive. Lean into her neck and just snuggle. Then kiss it ever so tenderly. Just brush your lips across it. Usually you can feel her shiver. It's almost like an electrical current runs through her. By this time, if you're lucky you can feel her nipples start to harden against your chest. That is, if her bra isn't too thick. You know ― one of those sheer bras―is best or none at all is better.” He paused and John nodded. “Just talking like this gets me excited. I guess it's been too long since I had any.”
John stared at the young man. He was fascinated by his vitality and the sexual energy that exuded from him. John felt odd and sexually excited himself.
