The Peter & Charlie Trilogy

by Gordon Merrick

  “I want you to tell me. There can’t be anything even a little bad between us.”

  “You’re incredible.” He put his hand out and touched Peter’s. “How’ve you been getting by, Skeezix?”

  “Sleeping around. I haven’t been a whore, but I want you to know all about me. People give me things. I sell them. I’ve never done it with anybody I didn’t want to. That was the point of the Growler routine.”

  “Yeah, but as you say, the Growler’s dead. I want to give you lots of things, but I’d want you to keep them.”

  “I’d never sell anything you gave me. I can get a job.”

  “Sure. You’ll probably want to anyway. But fifty thousand dollars! Why don’t you explain it to Walter the way you have to me? I think he’d understand.”

  “He probably would, and then I’d feel lousy for not being willing to do such a little thing for him when he’d done so much for me.”

  “Maybe you’d better be a lawyer. You’re really picking over the fine print. Look, I’ve known Walter a long time. I performed for him dozens of times. I know what you mean. I got to sort of enjoy it in a peculiar sort of way. But honestly, it doesn’t mean anything finally.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do it.”

  “Well, we can’t be each other, Skeezix. We’ve got to accept that, right from the start. But let me finish. I know why he’s given you the money. He must’ve told you. You can give him so damn much, even if you feel you shouldn’t take your clothes off. He had a very sweet guy with him for years. He was killed a couple of years ago. He’s been very lonely ever since. He just wants your time. I won’t be able to be with you always. He’s obviously fallen for you. Who wouldn’t? If you like him, what’s wrong with giving him an interest in life besides his pictures?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. So long as he understands I may not do my act for him again. So much depends on what happens to us. Are we going to be faithful to each other?”

  “The minute we’re not we might as well call it off.”

  “That’s good. That’s the way I want it. Do you think two guys can make this sort of thing work? I mean, are you thinking about the next few weeks or for real?”

  “For real, Skeezix. It couldn’t be anything else with you. Not the way I feel. I’ve always felt like a damn fool telling a guy I’m in love with him, but with you I think it’ll be different. I don’t see how I can hold off much longer.”

  “We don’t have to tell each other things.”

  “There’s somebody else, isn’t there?”

  “You said you knew all about me. I guess you must know about that. I’ll tell you about it, but I’m not sure tonight’s a good time unless you insist. It was easy to talk about it when I wanted to explain to people—you know, guys I really liked—why they shouldn’t let themselves get serious about me. That’s hardly the case with you. I want you to be serious about me. I’m serious about you. That’s for sure.” Their eyes met and probed into each other. After a moment, Peter’s breath caught and he inhaled deeply to ease his chest. Tim’s regard was calm and level.

  “I’m in love with you, Peter.” He broke into a broad grin. “There. I don’t care whether I sounded like a damn fool or not. It’s the truth.”

  “You didn’t sound like a damn fool. You sounded beautiful.” Peter exploded with laughter. “Three guesses what’s going on under the table.”

  Tim laughed with him. “Same here. Maybe we ought to see a doctor.”

  “Come on. Let’s get back in bed where we belong, even if we are both boys.”

  They rose and laughed again as their condition was revealed. They held each other’s sexes as they crossed the apartment to the bedroom. They threw off their dressing gowns, and Tim made a dive for the bed.

  “Wait a second, big boy. I’ll be right there.” Peter went to the bathroom and applied the lubricant to himself and returned with the tube and a towel. He squeezed the tube into his hand and stroked it onto Tim’s heavy sex. He looked into his eyes. “I want this so badly. If you’ve never done it, you can’t imagine. I’ll be yours, big boy. I’ll really be yours.” He spread out the towel and lay on his stomach beside Tim. “Go ahead. Just take it easy at first. When you’re all inside me, then—well, then fuck me.” As Tim moved into position, he backed up onto his knees and reached behind him for the sex and guided it to him. “Just let me show you at first. There. Oh, yes … Easy … God, you’re a big one … Yes, almost … Just a little—yes … Oh, God … Now. I can take it all.”

  “Good sweet Jesus,” Tim gasped.

  Peter uttered shaky little sobbing laughter. “Oh, God, beautiful. So beautiful. Fuck me, beautiful.” He growled as he began the movement with his buttocks and hips to ease the sex within him and make it part of him. He felt Tim’s big hands gripping his haunches. The sex swelled and penetrated deeper into him. He laughed as he welcomed it and surrendered to it. After the months of passionless intercourse, his whole being thrilled to the hard flesh that filled and possessed him. He began to tremble all over as he felt the love in the possession and in his submission to it. He wanted to give all of himself and to have all of himself taken, used, known, consumed. The sex moved within him, withdrew, drove hard into him. Yes, take me, he prayed, and groaned with ecstasy.

  “Dear sweet mother of God,” Tim gasped. “It’s not—Holy Jesus. I can’t—Oh, please. Peter, goddamn it. No. Oh Christ. No.” He ended with a shout, and Peter felt the flood surging into him as the great body collapsed on top of him. “No. No. No. Not without you,” he insisted angrily as the orgasm shook his body.

  “Hush.” Peter found his face and stroked it with the tips of his fingers. “Be quiet, big boy. I’m glad you came so quickly. That must mean I’m right for you, thank God. Next time, you’ll do what you want with me. Now I’ve got you all inside of me. I belong to you, big boy.”

  “Christ Almighty. I wanted it to go on forever. I can’t believe it.” He laughed unsteadily. “All I can think of is I want to marry you.”

  “Hey, I’ve got myself a husband. It’s about time. I pronounce us man and something-or-other. We’re married, big boy.”

  “You’re so right. You’re really mine now. Next time, I’ll do it right so you’ll come with me. That must be something. Imagine a little squirt like you teaching me a thing like that.”

  “I still have some things to teach you. There’re other ways of doing it. We’ll find the way you like best.”

  “We’ve found it. I’m really going to fuck you. You want me to, don’t you, sweetheart?”

  “Want you to? Golly. All day and all night, without stopping.”

  “I mean, we’re not supposed to take turns or anything?”

  “Are you kidding? What do you think I’ve got myself a husband for? Now, just a second.” He shifted slightly and the sex slipped from him. “Just lie on your back and don’t move.” He jumped up and went to the bathroom and washed himself. He came back with a washcloth and washed Tim carefully and dried him. He could feel Tim’s eyes on him as he performed the chore. He threw the washcloth into the tub and returned and started to get into bed.

  “Wait a minute. Let me look at all of you. You’re Peter. I’m so in love with you, Peter. It sounds perfectly reasonable when I say it to you. I’m in love with Peter. Peter’s getting a hard-on. So am I. Come here, sweetheart.”

  Peter scrambled into bed and was gathered into strong arms.

  PETER quickly found that he was more mistress than wife. After some thought, he decided that it was probably better that way. Their relationship was passionate but mirthful. He didn’t doubt that Tim was genuinely in love with him, but he was also ambitious and a lawyer. Peter adored him, but the feeling lacked the obsessive quality which he associated with being in love. He would probably never feel that way again about anybody. If there had been a real question of marriage, he would have accepted, but there would have been some small hesitation in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure that he would have wanted T
im’s babies. It was the only way he could express it to himself. The picture of Tim settled into a successful law career was slightly oppressive; but Tim as a lover was a complete delight. They called each other constantly during the day to laugh and exchange nonsense. They spent many evenings and many nights together, but Tim had an extensive social life connected with his work, and from that, of course, Peter was excluded. He spent at least one or two nights a week in his own place, which Peter never saw. Their own social life was largely confined to Walter’s gatherings, where they were known and accepted as a couple. Peter liked that very much. He loved Tim most when he took his hand or put his arm around him or kissed his ear when they were with other people. He stood within the protection of the big body, and his heart felt as if it would burst with pride and happiness.

  He spent a great deal of time with Walter, out at galleries and dealers tracking down a new acquisition, at the apartment for meals, even discussing his business affairs. Walter advised him about investing his money, and an interest in finance was born in him. His life took on direction. He decided that in the fall he would enroll at Columbia as a full-time student. He wanted to take art and business courses. He thought he would probably become an art dealer if he escaped the war. Walter was delighted with this development. To please him, Peter often invented an excuse to take a shower in his bathroom and wandered around naked in front of him, but the massage machine never appeared again. Walter apparently understood and had either renounced his whim or was biding his time. Peter had the satisfaction of knowing that he never regretted his investment.

  One blustery late-winter morning when Tim hadn’t spent the night with him and he was having breakfast alone, his attention was caught by an item on the Times theatrical page. A new play called Bumblebee was about to go into rehearsal. Among the cast were Harriet Donaldson and Charles Mills. He was strongly tempted to call and congratulate them, but decided it was better to leave it alone. He was enormously pleased. He looked forward to seeing them on the stage. He and Tim would go together. Tim knew all about Charlie.

  THE Millses’ engagement for Bumblebee was Hattie’s particular triumph. Ever since the New Year, when she had first heard of the project, she had hounded the director, a friend of hers named Andy Mars. He agreed that he could probably use her in a small part. He admitted that Charlie might be right for one of the leads, but would commit himself no further.

  “What makes you think the guy can act?”

  “I just happen to know, that’s all. We’ve worked up a scene together. Let us do it for you.”

  “I haven’t got time. Maybe later. Even if the guy’s Barrymore, I’m not sure I’d use him. He gets on my nerves.”

  “Try to be a little professional, for Heaven’s sake.”

  Charlie was less than enthusiastic about the whole idea. When Hattie managed to wangle a copy of the play, he found it a silly trifle. There were to be no glamorous stars. It was being done on a shoestring. When Hattie found out that Andy Mars was having trouble raising money for the production, she extracted a thousand dollars from a cousin who dabbled in the theater. This assured her a part and Charlie a reading. The antipathy that Andy Mars felt for Charlie was reciprocal. He was a brash, hard-driving young man, barely out of the amateur class. He had done some professional work in summer stock, which didn’t give him the right, as far as Charlie was concerned, to act as if he’d invented the theater, especially since all he had to offer was Bumblebee.

  “Who cares if it’s any good?” Hattie demanded. “We’ll be seen. It’s bound to get you a good job in stock this summer.”

  “What if we can’t get jobs in the same company?”

  “Then we’ll have to be apart for a few months.”

  “I see. A devoted wife.”

  “Who ever said anything about being a devoted wife? I’m an actress, goddamn it. Even so, you’re not doing too badly. It’s not every girl who’d fall for you the way I did. You and your Peter.”

  “Let’s leave him out of it, shall we?”

  “Gladly. Why can’t you? Why do you have to go running off to Harlem with him?”

  “Oh, God. That was weeks ago. Haven’t we had enough of that?”

  “I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now. How am I supposed to know what went on between you?”

  Charlie smiled at her. “You can’t possibly know, can you?”

  “Ohhhh. I just wish you cared as much about being an actor as you do about sex. You and your great cock.”

  “Don’t knock it, baby. I might not let you have it.” He laughed at her.

  Bumblebee slowly passed from the talking stage to a firm reality. All the money was finally raised. A theater was booked. A date was fixed for the start of rehearsals. Charlie was called for a reading. Hattie went with him and sat in the auditorium with Andy Mars. When Charlie had finished, she looked as Mars. He was chewing gum fast. He jerked his head up and down several times.

  “OK, you may be right. He’s pretty good. He’d give the play some class. I’ve got to see a couple of other guys, but I think he might be it. He can come again tomorrow and read for the goddamn author.” Hattie crowed with laughter and gathered up her things and ran down the aisle to Charlie.

  Charlie had a second reading and was told he could have the part. He had two weeks to quit his job and break the news to C. B. He and Hattie went to a dingy little office on West Forty-sixth Street to sign their contracts, both for the same minimum salary despite the disparity of their parts. Everything about it struck him as terribly shoddy. He had never believed in the production, and now he was actually caught up in it. Of course, Hattie was right. It was what it could lead to that counted. He was on his way at last.

  He went to see C. B. on the way home after giving notice at the office. Trying to prepare himself, he was appalled that he had committed himself so deeply without at least discussing it with her first, giving her some hint of what was in the wind. There was nothing to mitigate the blow. When he had imagined this happening, he had always assumed that there would be names to drop, a star, a writer, a director, something to provide some glamour to titillate her. This was simply shabby, a third-rate little enterprise that would sink without a trace within days of its opening. He couldn’t blame her if she never forgave him.

  She received him with her usual delight. “You’re looking so well again. For a while, you were getting a rather worn look. All those parties must have been exhausting. The Donaldsons always overdo everything. So attractive.” She gave his hand a little squeeze and went to her bar cabinet and fixed drinks. “How’s Hattie?”

  “She’s fine. She’s got a job.”

  “How splendid. A play?” She returned with the drinks and sat with her feet tucked together under her.

  “Yes, it’s not a big part, but it’s wonderful for her. I’m not so sure about the play.”

  “The theater is such a gamble. Up one minute and down the next. Still, I’m terribly pleased for her.”

  “I’ve got some more news. Pretty big news.” He had to sound pleased himself if he hoped to win her over. “I’ve got one of the leads in it.”

  “In the play?” She looked at him and lifted her hands and let them drop into her lap. Her face was drained of expression. “So it has come at last. I knew it was inevitable. Oh my dearest, you do distress me.”

  “Please, C. B. The theater isn’t the way you think it is any more. I mean, lots of perfectly decent people go into it these days. Jimmy Stewart was at Princeton. There’s a whole bunch of people coming up now that all worked together. Margaret Sullavan. Henry Fonda. Lots of them.”

  “I know, my dearest. The world’s changing. But I can’t bear to see you do this to yourself. Of course, you’ll be a star.” She said this in such lugubrious tones that Charlie managed to laugh.

  “Wouldn’t you like that? Everybody’s always said I should be a success at it.”

  “I’ve said so, too. That doesn’t make it any easier. You say the play’s not very
good. What will you do if it closes?”

  “Summer will be coming soon. There’re always a lot of jobs in stock. It’s a big part. Even if it only runs a week, everybody will see me. I mean, all the theater people.”

  “Yes, of course. Well, what can I do to stop you? I don’t like to rattle my will, but of course it will make a difference. I’ll have to take you out of it, my dearest.”

  “Oh, C. B., I don’t want your money. I’ll probably make tons anyway. I just want you to live forever.”

  “It’s a kind thought, but I don’t imagine I will. So you spurn my money? You’d be quite tolerably rich, you know.”

  “I can’t back out of it now,” he said, almost wishing that he could. “I told them at the office today.”

  “I suppose Hattie is behind this. I’m afraid I shall come to hate her.”

  “Come on, C. B. Please don’t make it sound as if I were doing something awful to you.”

  “No, no, it’s what you’re doing to yourself that distresses me. Of course, that’s selfish too. You’ve always been such a joy to me. Now I shall have to watch you coarsen yourself, adapt yourself to the mob’s taste. I’m delighted about poor little Sapphire, but do you want to put yourself on an equal footing with her? You have such exquisite sensibilities. You’ll have to root them out or be trampled under. You’ve always responded to everything that’s fine and beautiful in life. I would never allow myself to imagine you committing a gross or ugly act. Do you really believe such qualities have a place in the jungle of the theater? You’ve always been such a superior creature, such a true gentleman. What is to become of all that? No, I’m afraid this is a little bit good-bye, my dearest. I’m very sad.” She held up the image of himself to which she had taught him to cling and smashed it before his eyes. The shock left him bereft, much more so than the threat of disinheritance. He must remain in her eyes all that she imagined him to be.

  “I didn’t have to do anything gross or ugly to get this part,” he said, thinking of Meyer Rapper. “Honestly. You’re exaggerating. Please tell me you understand my wanting to try it.”