by Rob Byrnes
“If you say so.”
“Oh, and I need you to run a name for me. Lisa Cochrane, a real estate agent from New York.”
“Another one of them?”
“There’s an entire household of them over in Nash Bog. My gut says they’re not involved with Hurley. They just stumbled into this at the same time we did. But let’s keep an eye on them.”
Tolan wasn’t convinced. “You feel good about this hunch?”
“Do you have something better?”
He grunted. “Let’s see where this goes, then.”
“I love your flexibility, Ollie.”
“You should know about flexibility, gay boy.”
Waverly leaned against the wall and smiled. “Someday, Ollie, when I’m ready to retire, I’ll remember this moment when you called me a gay boy. You’ve created a very hostile work environment. That should be worth ten or twenty million bucks in a settlement from the Bureau, which will really help stretch my Social Security.”
Tolan nodded his agreement. “As long as I get half.”
“That can probably be arranged.”
“In that case,” said Tolan, “I’ll do whatever I can to help, you fuckin’ faggot.”
They exchanged a fist-bump.
$ $ $
It was completely normal for Jared Parsells to wake up in a strange hotel room wrapped tightly against a slumbering male body, but it usually took him a few minutes to put together the events leading up to the hotel room and the naked stranger as he forced sleep out of his head.
This time it took a bit longer than normal, but he finally remembered that he was in a hotel room in Washington, DC. At an ex-gay conference. With an ex-gay in his bed.
An ex-gay who was not doing a very good job at being ex-gay. Whatever. He was just thrilled someone had stayed the night and that there had been no praying and crying involved.
Jared smiled at his memories of the previous night and gently nipped Dan Rowell’s ear.
When Dan finally stirred after another nip, Jared said, “Good morning.”
Dan smacked his lips a few times before returning the smile. “Morning. What time is it?”
Jared glanced at the clock. “Almost seven. Want water or something?”
“No.” He felt Dan’s hand grasp his ass and pull him forward. “But I’ll take some more of this.”
Jared leaned into Dan and they found each other’s mouths. It was pure bliss…
For fifteen seconds or so, until a loud knock sounded at the door. Their heads both turned in its direction.
“Fuck,” muttered Dan.
“Yes, please,” said Jared, whose tongue was back at Dan’s lips.
Dan pushed him away. “Stop it. I’m not supposed to be here. Remember where we are.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jared sat up in the bed as Dan scrambled from beneath the sheets. “Should I answer it?”
“It’s probably Merribaugh. You’d better get it. But he can’t see me.”
“The closet,” Jared suggested.
Dan hiked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that sort of a cliché?”
Jared shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s a cliché?”
Another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Merribaugh’s voice. “Jerry! Time to wake up, son.”
“One moment!” Without a word, and despite it being one of those cliché things or whatever, Jared led Dan to the closet and closed him in. Then he kicked Dan’s clothes under the bed, wrapped the sheet around himself, and, a length of cotton trailing along the carpet in his wake, finally answered the door.
Merribaugh stood in the hallway, smiling at the sight of Jared wrapped in the sheet.
“Sorry,” Jared said. “I’m running a little behind. Let me just shower and…”
“Today is your big day!” Merribaugh clapped his hands together, as if encouraging excitement in a toddler. “Today you officially become the new face of the ex-homosexual movement! Are you excited?”
Jared pulled the sheet tightly around his body. “Uh…yes?”
“I’m sure you are. Please allow me to step in for a moment.” Jared, seeing no option, took a few steps back and Merribaugh entered the room, closing the door behind him. “Speaking on behalf of everyone at Project Rectitude and the Moral Families Coalition, let me just say we’re thrilled to have you on the side of righteousness.”
“Uh…you’re welcome.”
Merribaugh took a few more steps forward, forcing Jared back until he stepped on the sheet and almost tumbled over. To balance himself, his hand dropped the sheet, exposing flesh and a nipple. He caught it before it slid too far down his torso, but not before he caught Merribaugh staring.
Still, Merribaugh stayed professional, not even acknowledging the bead of drool that had formed at the corner of his mouth. “Above all, it’s very important that you be relaxed at the conference, Jerry.”
“Oh, I’m relaxed.” He watched as Merribaugh took a small vial from his pocket. “What’s that?”
“Massage oil. Made with traces of gold, frankincense, and myrrh: the gifts the Wise Men brought to the Christ Child.”
Jared was no longer relaxed but still said, “Seriously, I’m relaxed.”
Merribaugh held the vial toward Jared. “When you are massaged with this oil, you will feel reborn.”
“Is this like the Jesus Rub? Because I’m already relaxed.”
“It’s even better with the oil.”
“Very, very relaxed. Maybe too relaxed.”
Jared’s words were waved away. “I’m afraid I have to insist, Jerry. A Jesus Rub is the only way we can get those last vestigial traces of homosexuality out of your system before putting you on the public stage.”
“Do I have to?”
“Jerry, please!” Merribaugh almost looked as if his feelings were hurt. “This is a very common relaxation technique in the ex-homosexual community. Now, if you’ll just take off the sheet and lie face-up on the bed, we can get underway.”
Jared’s mind raced as he tried to think of a way to avoid another Jesus Rub, but he knew he was trapped. If he rejected Merribaugh’s therapy, there was a chance he’d expose himself as a fake ex-gay. Better to get it over with.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d sort of survived the first, non-oily Jesus Rub, hadn’t he? And maybe Merribaugh wouldn’t actually try to molest him, although he thought the odds weren’t on his side.
He started to slip out of the sheet. Merribaugh’s eyes focused like lasers when he fully exposed his slim, smooth torso, and Jared lost even the slight hope that there would be no molestation.
There was another knock, and Merribaugh’s eyes shifted from Jared’s hairless chest to the door. When he looked back at the young man, they were open wide in fear, not lust. So much fear that Merribaugh no longer seemed to notice Jared’s pert, hairless nipples.
“I can’t be seen here,” he hissed.
“Why? What’s the big deal? You’re only here to give me a Jesus Rub.”
Merribaugh didn’t answer, unless making a beeline for the closet could be considered an answer. Jared tripped over the sheet, still wrapped around his waist but now pulled low enough to expose a hipbone, rushing to stop him before he reached the closet door.
“Not there. It’s a clay-chi.”
Merribaugh stopped at looked at him. “A what?”
“Cla-chay?”
“Do you mean cliché?” Merribaugh whispered.
Jared just shrugged as another knock sounded. “Hide in the bathroom.”
When Merribaugh and his vial of gold, frankincense, and myrrh were finally hidden away, Jared answered the knocks.
“Where are your clothes?” asked Mary Beth, trying not to look at the mostly naked Jared.
He held a finger to his lips and led them into the hall.
“What she said,” said Grant, when the door was almost closed, but still a half inch ajar so Jared could get back inside. “Where are your clothes?”
“It’s complicated.” A man squeezed
past them in the hall, smiling as he eyed Jared and tossing him a sly wave. Jared waved back and called out, “See you at the conference.”
“You’re making friends?” asked Grant.
“A few.” Jared shrugged, and the sheet slipped a few inches on his hip. Mary Beth cringed. “Anyway, what do you want?”
“We need your keycard to check our suitcase into the safe,” said Mary Beth, still trying not to look at the flesh Jared was exposing.
“I’ll get it.” As Jared turned to reenter the room, a pair of men walked down the hall, greeting him with leers and nervous smiles. He smiled back, then went inside the room, emerging seconds later with the keycard. Again he closed the door behind him so that his guests—one invited, one not—wouldn’t hear.
“Thanks,” said Grant. “We’ll get it back to you later. And stay sharp, because we’ve got a lot of work coming your way.”
“I’ll be sharp.” Jared watched them until they were out of sight. Only then did he realize he’d locked himself out of Room 513.
Several ex-gays stopped to offer assistance to the young man partially draped in a sheet who’d locked himself out of his room, and under other circumstances Jared would have happily taken more than assistance opening the door from at least a few of them. But Merribaugh finally answered his knocks and let him in.
“Who was at the door?” he asked when Jared was safely inside.
“Just some random lesbian. I mean, ex-lesbian.”
$ $ $
At one point during the night, Jack Hightower had been able to grab four hours of sleep in his office. It wasn’t the most satisfying sleep he’d ever had, but even four hours of bad sleep were better than four hours of no sleep.
“Excuse me! Hellooooo!”
His sleep-deprived brain snapped back to the reality in which he had to be civil to the guests, so he smiled at the compact, pretty woman standing in front of him as if there’d been nothing odd at all about his behavior. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
She hoisted a bag onto the counter. “I need to check this.”
Of course you do. He eyed the small scuffed-up suitcase. I am sure it’s just full of irreplaceable valuables, because everyone carries their freakin’ million-dollar jewelry in a bag that looks like—
“Are you all right?”
He smiled weakly. “Sorry. I was distracted. Can I see your room key?” She produced it, and he checked it into the system before looking back at her quizzically. “Room 513?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“And, uh…what is your relationship to the guest?”
“I’m his girlfriend.”
Jack Hightower lifted a questioning eyebrow. “But, uh…I don’t mean to be nosy, but it says here that 513 is one of the rooms rented for the Project Rectitude conference.”
“Hey, what can I say? It works!”
“It works fast, I see.”
“Goddamn fast. Now check the bag.”
$ $ $
The drop-in from Grant and Mary Beth, unfortunately, had done nothing to discourage Merribaugh’s determination to give Jared a Jesus Rub.
It had only put off the inevitable for a few minutes, and now Jared lay face-down on the bed, the sheet still just barely wrapped round his ass, as Dennis Merribaugh dripped massage oil from the vial onto his back. It was cold when it first came in contact with his flesh, and his body reacted to the chill by clenching everything that could be clenched. That was, it turned out, the wrong reaction.
“You have very muscular buttocks, I see,” said Merribaugh, as his hands began working the oil into Jared’s flesh.
Jared forced his eyes closed. He reminded himself this wasn’t the worst situation he’d ever been in. It was close, but that time in Vegas with the guy that looked a lot like Donald Trump was definitely worse.
Merribaugh continued speaking as he rubbed Jared’s back. “Do you feel yourself relaxing?”
His voice was unenthusiastic. “I guess so.”
The massage stopped, and for a brief moment Jared hoped he’d been given a reprieve. But, no.
“I don’t want to get the oil on my suit,” he heard Merribaugh say. And then he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper unzipping.
Now it was the worst situation Jared had ever found himself in.
“You know,” Jared said, keeping his eyes tightly shut, because there were some things even Jared Parsells wasn’t curious about. “I’m really feeling very relaxed. Maybe we should put off the massage until later. I’ll probably be stressed after the conference. And then…”
“Nonsense.” He heard items of clothing drop to the floor. “This will feel so good. It will be a divine exp—”
The chirp of a cell phone interrupted Merribaugh. Jared knew it wasn’t his ringtone and hoped it wasn’t Dan’s.
It was Merribaugh’s phone. The amateur masseur cursed in a non-blasphemic way and started hunting for his phone on the floor. It slipped twice out of his oily hands before he finally answered.
“Merribaugh here…Yes, Dr. Hurley…Yes…Yes, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
And then there was the sound of Merribaugh putting his clothes back on, punctuated by a zipper zipping. Only then did Jared dare open his eyes, still managing to catch an unfortunate glimpse of Merribaugh’s sagging chest as he buttoned his shirt.
The pastor smiled awkwardly. “I’m afraid I lost track of time. I’ll have to relax you later.”
Jared nodded, silently determined that there would be no later.
When Merribaugh was gone, Dan emerged from the closet. They stared at each other for a while until Dan broke the silence.
“So, that was weird.”
“That was gross,” said Jared. “Could you hear everything?”
Dan nodded. “You want a towel to clean the oil off your back?”
“I’ll just use the sheet for now.” He sat, and the last of the sheet fell away from him.
“Okay.” Dan sat down next to Jared on the edge of the bed, their naked thighs pressed together. He furrowed his brow. “Just out of curiosity, uh…”
“What?”
“You wouldn’t have done anything with him, would you?”
Jared laughed out loud. “Oh, God no!” Then he remembered to add, “Also, I’m not gay anymore.”
Dan cocked an eye in his direction. “You’re not? I seem to remember…”
“I’m not desperately gay anymore. Better?”
“Yeah,” Dan agreed. “Better.” He cast his eyes to the floor, and his tone grew serious. “Listen, I have something to tell…”
With a click, the door opened. And there stood Grant and Mary Beth. They took one look at the unclothed men sitting on the bed and averted their eyes.
“Lesbian blindness!” said Mary Beth.
“That’s what we get for not knocking,” said Grant.
Dan turned to Jared. “Who’s the woman with your father?”
“My, uh…my sister?”
Still looking away, Mary Beth motioned in the direction of Jared. “We need to speak to you in private, brother dear. Please join us in the hall.”
“Now? But I have company!”
“Now!” And she added, “Don’t make me come over there, or you and your friend will both have four less inches to play with. And neither of you can spare it.”
Jared looked to Dan, said, “I’ll be right back,” and bounced off the bed to join them in the hall.
Grant was trying not to look, but there was something he couldn’t ignore. “It’s cold in the hall. You might wanna cover yourself.”
“Oh. Right.” Jared wrapped the sheet around himself once again and padded out to the hall, closing the door behind him.
Mary Beth handed him his keycard and a claim ticket.
“Here’s what you need to do,” said Grant. “And we kept it simple, so you should be able to handle it. I need you to swap this claim-check for Merribaugh’s, then get his bag from the front desk and bring it to me. Think you can handl
e that?”
“Uh…”
“You’ve got to do this quickly, though. I’m getting nervous. If they get that suitcase before we do, we get nothing. Remember there’s seven million dollars riding on this, and ten thousand is yours. No switch means no money for any of us, especially you. Get it?”
“Then definitely yes!”
“You’d better get moving. And make sure that failed ex-gay you’ve got naked in your room gets lost before you blow this.” He thought about his word choice, then thought better of correcting himself. If he did, he’d only draw attention to “blow this,” and after a night without sleep he wasn’t in the mood to hear Jared giggle.
Again, Jared watched them until they were out of sight. And again he realized he’d locked himself out of the room. It was only when Dan responded to his knocks and let Jared inside that he remembered he’d been holding the keycard in one hand.
Whatever.
Back in the room, Jared said “I guess we should get ready to get our ex-gay on. It’s almost time for the conference.”
Dan smiled. “We’re not doing a very good job giving up homosexuality, are we?”
“No, not really.”
“Maybe that’s because we don’t want to.”
Jared had certainly given Dan ample reason to think that. And it was the truth, after all. But he also realized it was time to get serious if this scheme was going to have a payoff.
“I think I want to give up sin.” He looked at Dan cautiously. “Don’t you?”
“I think…” Dan trailed off, not sure what he could or should say and deciding less was best. “I guess we’ll find out. In the meantime, you need to get in the shower.”
“Yeah…” Jared smiled. “Care to join me?”
Dan did, so Jared told him they could give up sin after their shower.
$ $ $
After Dan returned to his room, Jared dug Merribaugh’s wallet out from between the mattress and box spring. It was almost too easy. One claim check out, another one in. All he’d have to do was let himself back into Merribaugh’s room, drop the wallet, claim Merribaugh’s suitcase, and run.
