Paint The Rainbow

by John Harris

  “Jesus, kid. Why would I bring you one when you know exactly where the fridge is?”

  Ryan’s dad devoted his attention back to the steaks sizzling on the barbeque. He was a man of very few words. Generally, his contribution to an evening would be series of grunts or a joke that invariably only he found amusing.

  Ryan walked back into the house. It was located in the Canoga park district of Los Angeles, a nice area close to Malibu, and close enough to Beverly Hills where he worked. Best of all, you didn’t need to have serious cash to live here. It was an affordable neighborhood, one where you got done right for the money you spent.

  Ryan planted a kiss on the top of his mother’s head before he went to the large double door fridge. “Hey, Mom. How’s the salad coming? You need a hand?”

  Helen Mitchell added some chopped baby tomatoes to the salad. She hummed happily as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “No, that’s okay, love. You make sure you help your dad out there. He needs you more than I do.”

  Ryan frowned. “Why? Is everything okay with him?”

  “Oh yes, dear. He’s just one of those men who can’t accept the inevitable limitation age places on our bodies.”

  Ryan smiled. His mom didn’t have much to worry about. She had lived in the same house ever since she married John some thirty years ago. John’s stint with the Marines was over, so she no longer had to worry about him coming home in a body bag. He was all hers now—and a major pain in the ass on occasion. He ran his home like his former platoon in the Marines.

  Amber moved in and hugged her younger brother. “Hey, baby brother. Come here and give your sister a kiss.”

  Ryan smiled and gave her the kiss she asked for. Although she had her own place, Amber often came around for a drink or dinner. Both siblings had dark brown hair and matching sweet brown eyes. Divided by smallish noses, their faces were perfectly symmetrical. Strong cheekbones and smooth lips that were almost romantic gave their appearance an almost bygone air. They both had classical faces that, although similar, were also unique in their femininity and masculinity.

  “So, what have you been up to, sis?” Ryan asked, releasing himself from his sister’s embrace.

  Amber walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. She flipped the cap, and in an imitation of their dad, she took a large slug directly from the bottle.

  “We have glasses, you know?”

  “I know, Mom. I was just so thirsty and Millers just doesn’t taste the same out of a glass.” Amber said as she pecked her mom on the cheek.

  “Spoken like a true Mitchell. Hi, baby girl. How’s life treating you in the publishing world?” John homed right in on the fridge and grabbed another beer, then gave his daughter a kiss.

  “Oh, we’re doing okay. Plenty of new writing deals coming in. The need for scriptwriting is insatiable at the moment. It’s got to do with all the Netflix and Amazon series being produced at breakneck speed. I swear, the entire industry is changing.”

  Ryan wanted to boast that he’d seen and shared a glass of champagne with Mason Whitelock at the boutique earlier in the day, but his dad punched him on the shoulder and said, “Hey, son. We better get back outside and take care of the meat.” He gave his wife an enthusiastic slap to the backside. “Ready with the salad, honey?”

  “Yes, dear. The salad is ready.” Helen laughed, she loved his raw, carnal nature. Alongside his flashy dress uniform in the Marines, it had been one of the reasons she had married him all those years ago. During the years she’d been married to him, she hadn’t been disappointed. John, although very set in his ways, was a loyal and loving husband.

  “Great, come on, Ryan.” As if he were on parade, John marched out into the backyard.

  “You better go, Ryan,” Helen said. “You know what Dad gets like when it’s time to serve the steaks.”

  Ryan sighed and walked outside. Despite the familiar flurry in his family home, he couldn’t get Mason out of his mind. It was as if the movie star had ensnared him, and he’d already determined it was not because of his celebrity status. Ryan was sure that Mason could be flipping burgers at the local hamburger joint, and he’d still be just as intrigued. He just didn’t understand why a man was suddenly having this effect on him.

  Ryan gulped when he realized he had never felt this same kind of confusion at any time in his life. Not even when he’d had his first kiss, or made love to a woman for the first time. Those were just events marking the path of life that everyone followed. There was nothing unique about them—they just happened. The encounter with Mason was different. Of course, Juan had spent the rest of the afternoon after Mason had left trying to convince Ryan that he’d had his gay awakening. Already, Ryan regretted having agreed to go out with him later that night.

  “Bloody, right kid?”

  “No, Dad.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “You know I like mine a nice medium-well.”

  “Come on, son. It’s already dead. Why do you want to kill it again?” John placed his beer bottle on the table next to the barbeque with a thwack. “Anybody else want medium-well?”

  “No way,” came the answer from both mother and daughter in unison.

  Ryan‘s dad looked at his son with a crooked smile and a frown. “Don’t you even want to give it a—”

  Ryan raised his hands. “Dad, we’re not going to have this conversation again. I tried when I was very young, and I tried again when I turned sixteen. On both occasions, I despised red and bloody meat.” Seeing his father wanting to protest, Ryan hastily continued. “I love beef, just not too bloody. I hope you can live with that?”

  John grunted something unintelligible. He placed three steaks on the plates that Ryan held out for him and left one steak on the grill. With a deep sigh, he sat down at the head of the table. His hands hovered above the steak knife and fork. They were a gift from his wife.

  Ryan was still monitoring his dinner when his mom and sister came out into the backyard.

  “You having charcoal again, Ry?” Amber clinked her beer bottle with her Dad’s as they both laughed. Not once did a barbeque dinner pass without such a comment. Ryan was used to it.

  “Leave him alone,” Helen said, sitting down. She had prepared herself a nice fresh jug of lemonade that Ryan had always loved as a kid. He had never seen her touch alcohol.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I can handle those two.”

  His father grunted. “If you keep going at that rate, I’ll have to pick up some more gas.”

  “Dad, you’re impossible. And would you believe it? My steak is ready.” Ryan placed the meat on his plate, switched off the grill, turned the handle on the gas bottle and walked to the table. “I’m starving. We had a really busy day at the boutique.”

  “Yeah?” Amber asked, genuinely interested. “What’s going on?”

  Their dad cut in, snarling, “Why the hell do you work at that place? Real guys don’t belong in women’s clothing stores.” He speared a large piece of meat on his plate and popped it into his mouth.

  “It’s a boutique, not a store, John,” Helen said. Her husband shrugged and continued chewing on the meat enthusiastically.

  “It’s only a means to an end, dad. You know what I want to do with my life.”

  “You still want to become an artist?” John took a sip of beer.

  His father was far more talkative this evening than usual.

  “Yeah,” Ryan said.

  “There’s no money to be made in painting. Join the Marines, or do what your sister’s doing, but not that. Look, you’re twenty-four years old, and you still live at home with your parents.” He paused. “I love having you home, son. I really do, but it’s not healthy for you, kid.”

  “Dad, I earn good money at the store in commissions and wages. Mrs. Birkhead’s real fair and all.” Ryan took a sip of beer and beamed at his family. “Today, I made over a thousand dollars in commissions.” He didn’t say any more and redirected his attention back to the meat and salad on his plate.

  Helen leaned forward
in her chair. “Wow, Ryan. That’s amazing. How did you do that?”

  “Did you have to bang the customer?” John guffawed.

  “John, behave yourself.” She turned back to her son and repeated the question.

  His father’s rude comment about banging the customer had struck a raw chord. Ryan was used to his father’s brashness, but this evening he was truly on a roll.

  “Mason Whitelock came to the boutique.” His words were laced with pride and a little nervousness.

  “Oh my God! Mason Whitelock?” Amber shrieked. She was a huge fan of his.

  “Who is Mason Whitelock, dear?”

  “He’s a famous Hollywood actor, honey,” said John. At this point, he had cleared his plate of the over twenty-four-ounce piece of meat and the accompanying salad, and was currently adding more while he spoke.

  “You know him?” Ryan asked, incredulous.

  “I guess I like his movies. More beer, anyone?” He winked at Ryan, who didn’t fall for it this time. Amber and Helen asked for one each, and John stalked off into the house.

  As soon as the door shut, Amber could barely hold back her curiosity. “Is Mason as hot in real life as his is in the pics?”

  Ryan gulped and blushed. For a moment, Amber looked at her brother quizzically. The expression on her face was a knowing one. It soon evaporated into her habitual happy mien. “So, come on. Is he hot?”

  “Well, he’s actually a really nice guy. We spoke quite a lot while his wife tried on all these different dresses for some red-carpet event they’re going to.”

  “Did you get invited?” Amber’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Can I come? Please, please…”

  Ryan laughed, “No, sis. I did not.”

  Amber looked disappointed, for only a moment. “I bet Juan was totally psyched that Mason Whitelock was in the store. He must have been so turned on the entire time. I mean, come on. Mason has the nicest ass ever.”

  Ryan gulped as if he had just swallowed a toad. Images of Mason’s backside filled his vision. He could see it perfectly. He remembered the exact contours of it from when Mason had bent over to pick something up back at the boutique. Jesus, what’s wrong with me?

  “Poor baby brother is star-struck.” Amber ruffled his hair. “But you’re not off the hook yet. Ryan?”

  Ryan looked up. “What?”

  “Are his eyes as green and beautiful as the gossip magazines say?”

  “Faggot eyes, that’s what,” John announced, slapping a beer bottle on the table in front of Ryan. “Drink, boy, before the beer shoots out.”

  Ryan covered the nozzle with his lips, and winced when the beer bubbles rounded in his mouth and shot up his nose. “Thanks for that, Dad,” he said, shaking his head. Dad was such a kid sometimes.

  John cackled, then took a deep draught of beer before he placed another bottle for his daughter on the table. “As I was saying, Mason is a fag.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Dad. Mason Whitelock is married and has two kids,” Amber said.

  “So. It never stopped any other of that sort from butt humping.”

  “John, please. I will not have that language at my table.” Helen looked at Ryan expectantly. Usually, he would be the first person to help clear the plates, but he found himself paralyzed.

  “What makes you so sure he’s gay?” Amber was truly worried now. It was as if the idea would blow her own chance with him in case Mason and his wife ever divorced.

  “I read something a while back about him being caught plugging some dude in the—” A frown from his wife made John stop. He took a gulp of beer and waited for her to enter the house as she carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen. “That guy loves cock,” he whispered. “Many years in the military taught me how to spot fag eyes. You just have to look closely, and you’ll see which of the men love a fat prick up their ass.”

  “I heard that, John Mitchell.”

  “Damn, your mother hears everything.” He waited for another reprimand and when none came, he said loudly, “Who cares where some celebrity plants his pecker. It’s none of our damn business anyway.” John leaned back and devoted his attention to the beer bottle. He had said his piece.

  “I do!” The voice shouting in Ryan’s head nearly made him jump. He was so confused. To his great surprise, his father was the second person who claimed that the superstar was gay. If two people thought it, there must be some substance to the claim. In his bewilderment, Ryan didn’t know why he was moved by this information. He just was.

  For the rest of the evening at home, Ryan was a monosyllabic wreck. He halfheartedly answered his sister’s queries about Mason, but thanks to dad’s earlier comment, her enthusiasm had waned. Dad fell back into his customary quietness and went inside to watch TV. Ryan spent a while nodding and listening to his mom and sister talk.

  “I think I’ll join Dad, okay?” Ryan stood up.

  “You look exhausted, dear,” his mother said.

  “Yeah, it’s been a long day. All I need is a bit of TV and then I’ll get to bed.”

  A ping from Ryan’s phone interrupted them. He read the message.

  “Oh, crud. I forgot all about Juan. I promised I’d go out with him tonight. He says he’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”

  “Cool,” Amber said. “I’m coming with you guys. I haven’t been out with my baby brother for ages.”

  Ryan was about to protest, then thought better of it. Changing Amber’s mind was impossible when her heart was set on something. He was only a little concerned about taking her to a gay bar.

  The Epicenter’s dark wooden flooring spanned from booths with padded leather seats to a long bar displaying every bottle imaginable. The entire establishment oozed class—wrapped in a sort of bohemian mantle and clashing with Asian elements. There was wood everywhere and kitschy chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. They looked so tacky that they were no longer tasteless, but a perfect fit providing that necessary finish to the ambiance. The bar certainly earned its name.

  “Jesus, this is strong.” Amber’s eyes were as wide as saucers as the straw flopped from her lips.

  “Yeah, they’re trying to beat the Abbey just down the road from here,” Juan said, clearly enjoying himself. His own strong drink didn’t bother him in the least.

  “The Abbey?” Amber winced when she took another sip of her Caipirinha.

  “It’s, like, the gay bar in the whole of LA. It’s literally ruled the nightlife scene here for years. They started out as a simple coffee shop, and grew and grew since then. As with all great places, they get famous, and now every fucking tourist that comes here wants to go to the Abbey.” Juan tapped his foot to the beat of the music. “This place is pretty cool, though.”

  Amber nodded and asked Ryan something, but he couldn’t hear her.

  He leaned in, “What?”

  “Do you like the place?”

  He shrugged, trying to act bored. “It’s okay.”

  He scanned his surroundings. The Epicenter certainly wasn’t the first gay bar he’d ever been to, but it definitely was the one that had the most effect on him thus far. His voyage of strangeness had started with the guys at the door. Ryan always appreciated good-looking and fit people, but this night, he was totally spellbound by the men. Seeing them had sent shivers up his back. To his surprise, Ryan was very happy that his sister was there with him, because Juan would have surely peppered him with questions about Mason. Now, as Juan jumped into the crowd on the floor, Ryan had Amber asking him all kinds of stuff.

  “You okay, Ryan?” Amber asked. She moved closer to her brother. She had noticed the change in him. They had always been close as children. Only her going off to college had separated their paths, but since she had started work back in LA, the brother and sister saw each other frequently at their parent’s place for dinner.

  “Sure.” Ryan’s voice squeaked, betraying his nervousness. His sister didn’t make him nervous, but the new emotions coursing through his blood did. He had to admit that the feelin
gs were not new, but suppressed. He had finally given them enough credence to let them come to the surface a little. Now, Ryan was having trouble controlling them.

  “You don’t look okay.”

  Ryan observed the vast area of the bar. It was a risky choice to open something so large, but judging by the amount of people present, it had paid off handsomely. Juan was chatting up some big guy covered in muscles. The scene was quite comical. Juan looked like a child next to the huge man.

  “Hey, baby brother. Let’s go for a drink outside, okay?” Amber pulled on Ryan’s hand, directing him to the exit.

  It was hard getting through the throng of people that had crowded in the place for the opening night. All kinds of men were there, from the movie executives to the guys who served them in the many cafés and fashionable restaurants in the city. Women accompanied some of them, but many were without female companionship. What Ryan liked the most was the cornucopia in clothing tastes that boasted every color in the rainbow. Ryan loved color and he loved fashion, and was starting to realize that he preferred both on men.

  Ryan had always wondered how his friend got invited to these things. Not a weekend went by that Juan didn’t attend some premier or opening. It was as if he knew everybody in the entire city. Ryan, still in a bit of a trance, followed his sister until they reached the outdoor patio where there was another bar and more seating. The sights and smells all elicited new reactions in Ryan. It was as if the synapses in his brain were realigning themselves in preparation for his new life.

  “Hey, Ryan… Ryan, wake up. Are you still there?”

  “Sorry, sis. I’m just dreaming, that’s all.” Ryan smiled warmly at the hunk of a barman who gave him a wink.

  “You’ve been daydreaming since we got here.”

  Ryan gulped. His sister had a determined look about her. A look he knew very well, and he dreaded the words that he knew were coming.

  “Okay, we’re going to have a few shots to loosen your tongue. Then, once we’ve had a few laughs and you’re feeling comfortable again, I want you to talk to me. And I don’t want the ‘Ryan brush-off’ bullshit either. It won’t work anyway... I’ve known you since the day you were born.” She turned to pass her order to a very amused barman who had heard everything. The music wasn’t as loud outside, making it a much better location for a talk.