“You’re insane!” He looked around at the others in the room. “He’s fucking insane! I don’t even know him!”
The attention of the bar patrons was captured by the fascinating scene being played out before them. Their old pal, Republican-voting, NASCAR watching, high score-bowling, beer swilling, jeans wearing Good Old Boy, Bob, versus the sweet young piece of pansy ass. Hell, there wasn’t anything on the t.v. that could match this for sheer entertainment value.
“How can you hurt me this way, Daddy, when you told me you loved me?” Rafe was pleading now, “It’s because you’re ashamed of me in front of your friends, isn’t it?” With that, he laid his head down on the bar and began to sob.
If Bob had wanted to resort to violence, it was too late now. It would look like he was beating up on Bambi.
“Jesus, Bob, why don’t you take the poor kid out and love him up a little and make him feel better?” a man called out from down the bar.
“Shut up, just shut the fuck up!” Bob yelled. “You guys know me! You know I’m no fucking queer! You can’t believe this bullshit story!”
Slowly, Rafe lifted his head, tears still flowing down his cheeks. “I guess you just used me,” he said softly. He walked slowly toward the door, head hanging in dejection. Silently they all watched him go.
“You guys have to know it’s a lie, don’t you?” Bob begged.
“He seemed awful believable to me, Bob,” one of his teammates opined. “Appeared genuinely heartbroken. Kid deserves an Academy Award if he was acting.”
“He was acting!” Bob insisted.
“But why?” another bowler asked. “That’s the question? What’s his motive, Bob? Seems crazy to think he’d just waltz in off the street and accuse a perfect stranger of such a thing for the hell of it.”
“I don’t know what his motive is!”
“You always have been apeshit about gays, Bob. You even got arrested for beating that one up. Maybe now we know it’s to cover up how you really are.”
“Fuck you guys! You’re as nuts as he is. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“Yeah, maybe you ought to go on down to the Crystal Cave (a well-known gay bar). That’s probably where your pretty boy is right now. Maybe you can sweet talk your way back into his good graces.”
They all laughed as he went storming out the door.
*
Just as Bob had his hand on his car’s door handle. Rafe appeared silently from around the back.
“I’m going to kill you!” Bob promised, making a frantic grab but Rafe was quicker and the next thing Bob knew, one arm was around his neck and a knife point was at his throat, right at the bottom of his ear. Two men huddled outside Granger’s front door smoking a cigarette. All they saw was the two bodies pressed tightly together, Rafe’s arm around Bob’s neck in what appeared to be a loving embrace.
“Kiss me,” Rafe told him.
“No!” Bob roared.
“Either you give me a big kiss or I’ll slit your fucking throat.” The knife’s point pressed a little harder. The voice was icy and lethal. Bob knew he was a dead man if he didn’t do as he was told.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against Rafe’s. Now the tears, tears of shame and frustration, were running down Bob’s face. The smokers pointed and snickered, then disappeared inside to tell the others “the rest of the story”, how Bob and the boy had met outside and exchanged a long romantic kiss. Guess what the kid was saying must be true. Who’d a’ thunk it, old Bob, the gay-hater?
The next thing Bob knew, he heard a chuckle and Rafe was gone, just disappeared like mist, like he’d never been there at all.
Bob drove home knowing no one would ever believe him now and even if, by some chance, they did, they’d have nothing but contempt for him for letting some teenage faggot so thoroughly play him. He’d never be able to face his bowling team again and it was for sure he’d never step foot inside Granger’s again either. And, he’d kissed another male! No matter if he was in fear of his life or not, he’d actually kissed another man! Sweet Jesus, it made him sick to even think about it and he knew he never would quit thinking about it. He even dreamed about it that night and woke up nauseated and sweating, with the feel of Rafe’s lips against his.
*
“Oh, my God!” They were all sitting around the breakfast table. Chas and Vic had invited him over for breakfast burritos. Chas was glancing through the morning paper.
“What, Chas?”
“That guy that beat you up, Vic? He committed suicide! Hung himself!”
They both looked at Rafe and shivered a little looking into his ice water eyes.
“Did you have something to do with this Rafe?” Vic asked him in a hushed tone.
Rafe shrugged. “I might have told him the first part of the story but he figured out the ending on his own.”
* *
Rafe - I got your e-mail address from Jeri, your fan club president. I’d like to do a follow-up story to the one we did last year. Get in contact with me when you get back to Maryland so we can set something up. My phone number is 410-001-2987, in case, you lost my card.
Carole.Blair@Channel5news
*
Delete.
*
From: Professor Mowbray, Mathematics Chair, Princeton University
To: Rafe Vincennes
Dear Mr Vincennes:
I am writing to inform you that you have been named Student of the Year in Mathematics. I’m sure you are aware this is the highest honor our department can bestow. This is the third year in a row you’ve been so honored, an unprecedented achievement. The award is given at our annual Math Banquet. This year the banquet will be held on April 27 at 6:00. Although you have not attended in the past, we would very much appreciate it if you would plan to be present this year. Please RSVP by April 12.
*
Delete.
*
Rafe - Got your e-mail addy from Jeri. Get ready, Boy, you’re moving up this summer. I’ve got your schedule all planned out. Chet
*
Chet - Whatever you say, Boss. Rafe
*
Rafe, isn’t it strange to think we’ll both be seniors next year? I need to be deciding what I’m going to do after high school since the Vincennes females, unlike you guys, can go wherever they want. I’m seriously thinking about just going to the U of M and sticking around close here. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up! I’m dating Todd Mackey now. It’s no great love affair but I like knowing there is one person that I can count on doing things with. Shasta is fine, growing. Well, she’s not actually growing very much. I think she weighs about 5 lbs now. Only 2 weeks until you get home. I can’t wait to see you! Love, Laney
*
Rafe, Only two weeks ‘til you get home. We can’t wait to see you! Jeri & All
*
Christ, Lane, be a little adventuresome! Go south or west or somewhere into a completely different environment! You’re lucky you can consider all the possibilities and decide what sounds exciting. When I come and see you at college, I want to go somewhere interesting, like Albuquerque Fucking New Mexico or someplace! Took Hawk to the vet for a check up and he weighs 73 pounds. I think he’s going to be bigger than Raven. Love R
*
“Renny?”
“Yeah, Gil, what’s up?”
“I need a favor but before I get to that, I need to vent. You inflicted that son of yours on me so you owe it to me to listen.”
“Fire away, Gil, I’ll I’ll sit here until you’ve had your say. What’s Rafe been getting into now.”
Renny could hear Gil release a long breath.
“I swear I’m glad he came to Princeton in my last four years because after dealing with him, I really need to retire. I couldn’t face another one like Rafe, Renny. He’s the most frustrating and exasperating student I’ve ever had to deal with.”
“Spill it, Gil.”
“Well, first, I can’t talk about him without using a
whole string of superlatives, both positive and negative. Academically, he may be the most gifted student we’ve ever had and he seems to do it with one hand behind his back, Ren, like he only puts in the minimal amount of effort it takes to accomplish what he needs to accomplish. He won’t do anything to capitalize on his achievements to benefit either himself or Princeton. For instance, do you think he’s ever given an interview to any sports reporter despite his athletic record?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me the answer’s no.”
“The answer is no, although oddly enough, that’s ultimately worked in his favor, not that I think he cares. The coaches actually love it because it seems like the more he avoids the press, the more intrigued with him they become. It’s almost like the usual story of the triumphant sports hero is old hat and the new story is the mysterious anti-hero. It’s all become part of his mystique.
Now he’s become the darling of the gay community. You probably know his landlords are Chas Chatham and Victor Bollan? Chas is a prominent architect and Victor is some kind of computer software wizard. They’re gay.”
“Yeah, Laney, told me about them.”
“Well, Victor got the shit kicked out of him by some gay-bashing bigot sometime in January, I think it was. He went to court and bonded out right away. Everybody figured he’d get a slap on the wrist but the next thing you know, the guy hangs himself and talk on the street is Rafe had something to do with it. I don’t know if it’s true, Ren, and I don’t want to know. Rafe cost me my Professor of Womens Studies, someone who was renowned in her field, so if his penchant for exacting extreme justice has reared its ugly head again, I’d just as soon be kept in the dark this time. But, anyway, the gays all believe it and he’s become their Knight in Shining Armor. Now a whole group of them come to his games and more than that, they donate money to the Princeton athletic program and they are a bunch who are above-average affluent so it isn’t just small change. We’ve received checks totaling thousands of dollars with the notation “on behalf of Rafe Vincennes”. It’s just unheard of.
“Are we getting anywhere close to the favor, Gil?” Renny asked in amusement.
“Yes, I’m getting to that right now. Rafe was just named Mathematics Student of the Year for the third time, an unbelievable honor. And, believe me, Renny, it wasn’t because they wanted to do it. They’d have much preferred to give it to one of their more cooperative kids, one who belongs to the Math Club, and gets involved in their projects and actually seems to like Math.
“So why didn’t they?”
“Because it would look like a farce if they didn’t give it to Rafe when no one deserves it as much. Here’s another example of what I was talking about earlier. Rafe wrote some kind of analysis paper for an assignment. I’m not that great at Math myself so I don’t understand what it was about but it was so good, his professor sent it on the Journal of Mathematics, the most prestigious publication in the field. And they printed it and then requested something else from him. Most students would kill to be published in the JM and it brings huge kudos to the Department for one of their kids to be singled out in that way, but, you know, Rafe said he only did the first one for a grade and he wasn’t interested in writing anything else. Here’s the nut of my call. Rafe didn’t go to the awards banquet the last two years. The Head sent him an e-mail about it this year and asked for an RSVP by April 12, which he never got. He came to me and asked me to order Rafe to come to the dinner. I mean, Christ, Ren, three times they name him Student of the Year and he doesn’t even bother to pay lip service to that kind of tribute! I told Mowbray I flatly cannot order a student to attend an award ceremony but maybe I could somehow persuade him to go.”
“And that’s where I come in?”
“That’s where you come in, Pops.”
“Okay, tell your guy he’ll be there.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate it, Ren.”
“Seems like the least I can do after what Rafe’s put you through.”
*
Rafe - Put the Mathematics Award Banquet on your calendar. You will be attending. And you need to RSVP with an apology for being so late in responding. Then reply to me and confirm. Dad
*
Goddamn it! He didn’t want to spend an evening at a fucking boring Math Awards banquet! And where in the hell does Dad get his information? He’s got to have a spy on campus, but who? Still, the man on the other end of the e-mail owned his car and was paying his rent so…...
*
Dad - Message received. RSVP sent w/apology. R
*
To: Professor Mowbray
From: Rafe Vincennes
Dear Professor Mowbray: I’d like to apologize for inadvertently deleting your e-mail re: the Awards Banquet. I am, of course, thrilled by the honor the Department has given me and I’ll be pleased to attend the ceremony. Rafe Vincennes
*
He sent a copy to Renny.
Renny forwarded a copy to Gil.
*
Rafe - I got your e-mail address from your sister. I’ve got a proposition for you. Steve, our lead guitarist, is going to be gone in August. He teaches at Georgetown and has the opportunity to spend the month in England. Would you be interested in sitting in with us? I can’t think of anyone else who could do it and sound good on such short notice. I’d owe you big time if you say yes. Please let me know asap. Duke
*
Duke - Sounds like fun. Call me at the house around the first of June. I’ll come to some practices and get back in sync with you guys before August. Rafe
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER 10
The summer roared past with the speed of the cars he drove. He had a great year. Chester tried to keep him abreast of where he was in points but but Rafe waved him off.
“Don’t bother me with the details, Chet. I just want to drive. I’ll handle the cars. You take care of everything else.”
The fan club continued to grow. He didn’t know how many members it had now but there was always a different woman available when he wanted one after the races and usually he did want one.
*
He struck up a small dalliance with Carole, the Channel 5 anchor, although he never did give her another interview. He figured the dalliance was what she was angling for anyway and the interview was just the excuse.
*
His parents spent two weeks in Aspen, Colorado and rented a villa on the coast of Italy for two more so he was able to keep Laney relatively contented.
August added rock and roll to his agenda. Regretfully, Duke watched him on the stage and wished it wasn’t for just a month. He’d never seen a musician who could exercize such dominance over his audience. As far as the women were concerned, the rest of the band might as well not even be there. Their eyes stayed locked on the black hair and the flashing smile and the rolling hips. When he turned his back to the stage, a murmur of appreciation always went up from the females. A woman had told Duke once, with a longing tone in her voice, that Rafe had the hottest little ass she’d ever seen, whatever that meant. Frequently, they ended up with bras and panties on the stage and that never happened when Rafe wasn’t there! They mobbed him on breaks, asking him to autograph shirts and menus and napkins and sometimes themselves, meanwhile touching his hand and arm and back and butt. Duke swore Rafe could ask one of them to drop to her knees and blow him right there in front of God and everyone and she’d do it without even hesitating. Duke was a good looking guy himself and he’d benefitted plenty from being a gi-tar man but Rafe took it to a whole new level.
*
Chas and Vic came to one of the races and he had to grin at how elegantly out of place they looked in the dirt track crowd. They took him out to dinner afterwards. He was genuinely happy to see them.
He pulled the small gold good luck piece out of his pocket and showed them.
“I always have it with me.” His smile gleamed. “Maybe it’s why I’ve been winning.”
“We hope it helps you win, Raf
e,” Chas told him, “but even more, we want it to bring you back safe to us in the fall.”
*
And it did. He headed off for New Jersey, Hawk in the seat beside him, thinking - “down to the last year and then I can put Princeton behind me.”
*
That nine months passed quickly too, if uneventfully, at least uneventfully to Rafe, although it might not have been to anyone else. It was pretty clear he’d graduate as valedictorian, the first Vincennes to do so although all his brothers had all been in the top five percent of their class. He was Mathematics Student of the Year again. It was almost like they decided, “what the hell, just give it to him and be rid of him”. (This time, he RSVPed promptly, before Renny had a chance to order him to do it). He was going to complete his college athletic career with some records it would probably take a while for anyone else to match - most homeruns ever hit in a single season, an unbelievable 100 percent free throw record in basketball (reporters started calling him “CMV for Can’t Miss Vincennes”), most yards per carry (by a mile) in football. Scouts from all three sports approached him urging him to consider going pro but he blew them all off. He was followed constantly by the sports media paparazzi, all determined to be the one to get the coup of convincing him to give them an interview before it was too late and he was gone for good. But he eluded them (none of them had a vehicle that could keep up with the Corvette) and once he made it home, he was protected by the gay mafia that seemed to take it as their mission to be his first line of defense. And if they somehow got past that obstacle, they faced a huge, growling German Shepherd.
“Hold up, Hawk,” Rafe would tell him, smiling at the offending reporter. “You’ve got two minutes to get off this property. He’s trained to go for the groin.” A few of them might have been dedicated enough to take a chance with an arm but a threat to their privates was a pretty effective deterrent.
*
One memorable event that year was Annecy’s wedding, not especially memorable for Rafe himself, of course, but to the Vincennes as a collective body. The family held nothing back when it came to celebrating itself and everyone was expected to cooperate fully in paying tribute.
Sociopath? Page 23
