The Peter & Charlie Trilogy

by Gordon Merrick

  Something in his voice sharpened Charlie’s attention. “What are you saying now?”

  “Oh.” He shrugged and his voice became matter-of-fact. “Harvard’s pretty far away, I guess.”

  Charlie was suddenly on his feet. He stepped out from behind the desk, but stopped short of touching the boy. “Stay, for God’s sake,” he begged, feeling acutely that it was vital to keep him here. “Stay for tonight anyway. Let me try to satisfy you at least once. I know I haven’t yet. It might be important for both of us.”

  “I told you I was insatiable. Especially with you. Do you want me still? Do you want me as much as before? Do you want me as much as I want you?”

  “You know I do, goddamn it.”

  Jeff stepped quickly to him and took him in his arms possessively and kissed his mouth with a fierceness that threatened to shatter Charlie’s barely reintegrated control. His hands dropped to the sarong and pulled it away again and moved over the flesh that obsessed him. He drew his head back. His eyes blazed briefly into Charlie’s. “There. For once. The way it should be. Man to man and nobody else counting.” He released Charlie and backed away from him, his eyes on his body. “It happens so quickly. I’ll remember you forever like that. I mustn’t topple that tower.” He uttered laughter that threatened to end in a sob. When he lifted his eyes, they were flooded with his unbearable longing. “Good-bye, Apollo. Good-bye, my lover,” he said softly. He turned and moved quickly to the door and unlocked it and was gone without looking back.

  He heard Charlie call his name as he hurried across a room and downstairs and out the front door. Tears slid silently down his cheeks. He dashed them from his eyes so that he could see in the dark and set off at a rapid pace for his next rendezvous. He had known since noon that it awaited him. Without the day with Charlie, he would have gone to it in blind despair. Now he was buoyed by a sense of victory. He had said everything necessary so that Charlie would feel no guilt. When he heard, he would surely know that he had come as close to saving him as anybody could. When Mike heard, he would know the truth. Perhaps it would touch him at last. Perhaps he would understand what he had meant when he said that he loved him more than life. He dashed tears from his eyes again and reminded himself that he would soon be free.

  He crossed the quiet port. People waved from a table and he waved back without seeing who they were. He took one of the main stepped streets that led up through the town. He was panting when he reached the upper rim of the amphitheater. The road dipped over a crest and led off on a level between walls toward open country. He passed through a sort of suburb, well back from the sea and high above it. He was breathing easily again as he entered the only bit of pastoral landscape the island offered. Land sloped gently away on both sides of him. There were a few farms here, some fields where grain had been harvested, almond and olive groves. It was one of Jeff’s favorite places, time-haunted, Bibilical in its rustic simplicity, Pan land. He had always felt close to the gods here. The night was vast and luminous around him. He felt totally alone on earth, unfettered by ties to any human creature. Thoughts of Mike could no longer hurt him. There was only a riot of pagan dedication in him.

  He turned off the rough road into an even rougher lane, under trees, that dipped down toward a house and rose again and petered out among great boulders. Jeff picked his way over them, jumping from pinnacle to pinnacle, climbing the back of a high cliff face that dropped sheer to the sea. He knew his way.

  He came out on a fairly even plateau of rock hanging over the huge panorama of westering sea. The moon was sinking into it. He stood and caught his breath after his exertions and then ventured closer to the edge. When he was a few feet from it, a prickling in his legs and all down his spine stopped him. It must have been like this that the ancients imagined the edge of the universe—an abrupt clean drop into space. He backed away until he felt safe and took all his clothes off and arranged them in a neat pile. It was important that it should look as if he had planned everything carefully and rationally.

  He stood with his feet apart and lifted his arms straight out from his body so that he could feel the soft night air on every pore. Standing naked under the sky stirred him. He ran his hands over his body and brought them to rest on his buttocks. He arched his spine backward and stretched all of himself while he recaptured the sensations of being taken by Charlie. His fingers strayed caressingly and his hips swayed as his sex lifted into erection. His hand moved forward and stroked it slowly. This was a familiar ritual. He had consecrated the place with his sperm long ago.

  Mental images of the colossal phallus that was part of his experience were more potent than anything he had ever imagined. He could feel it inside him. He threw his head back and stretched his mouth wide to receive it. It multiplied until it seemed to press on every part of his body, a mighty web of hard flesh that held his mind spellbound. He had been loved by Apollo. He had aroused the jealousy of the gods. The discus had been arrested and reversed in its course. He could sense it hurtling toward him.

  The movement of his hand accelerated. His body writhed and leaped and drifted in an orgiastic dance of self-hypnosis. He wasn’t mindful of his footing, he knew he hadn’t far to go. His loins were congested with the ultimate experience that his being yearned for. His sex swelled in his hand until it felt as if it would burst.

  At the first huge jet of his orgasm, he sprang forward, his knees buckled and his body was convulsed as he hurtled out into space, his legs flailing, his mind reeling with astonishment and ecstasy, until gravity reached out for him and he plunged.

  Charlie awoke early from a restless night feeling as if he had been involved in some catastrophe. He wasn’t quite sure he had survived it. Guilt, apprehension, and exhaustion formed a knot in him and blurred his thoughts. He had slept again in Peter’s room because guilt kept him from the bed they shared.

  And on the off-chance that Jeff might come back? Yes, he had been able to sleep only after he had talked himself out of hoping that he might. Jeff had understood better than he that they had had all that time permitted them, but he was totally unpredictable. Given the opportunity, he might offer himself again in the days to come. Charlie would have to take care to avoid seeing him alone.

  His head cleared as he went through his morning routine. Underlying the guilt and apprehension, sharpened perhaps by exhaustion, he became aware of an odd sense of anticipation in himself. Of what? Of life itself? He was prepared for the unexpected in a way he hadn’t been for years. He collected a spartan breakfast tray from Kyria Tula and took it up to his studio. A glance around him told him that his mood alienated him from his work. The highly disciplined, intellectual cold-bloodedness of it made him want to let loose and fling paint about, get his hands in it and throw away the rules. He finished his coffee hastily and got out a virgin canvas and went to work, the final result he wanted to achieve for once eluding him. When he stepped back to survey his progress, he laughed out loud at what he was doing. Let his public make what they would of it. He felt reckless and inspired. Perhaps he was entering a new Period. This was the area in which to consolidate his new sense of liberation, not with treacherous young lovers. He couldn’t wait to show Peter.

  Thoughts of Peter and Jeff hovered on the edges of his concentration. Peter tonight. Feeling it as a constraint, he pulled off his sarong and tossed it aside. This was the way to work, naked, his whole body engaged. He might throw in a few touches with his cock. He laughed out loud again while he worked. Jeff. Of course he wouldn’t avoid him. He loved him, was in love with him in a way he could explain to Peter. He was too young to have deserved last night’s fury. Let him fall into bed with every man in sight. He’d be back, his great eyes yearning. Perhaps then he could give him peace.

  He was absent-minded during the midday break with the family. His work was exciting him, as well as other things. When he returned to his studio, he was tempted to masturbate for the first time in more than twenty years; Jeff had accustomed the monumental phallus to constant
attention. It felt very much in the way, but he made himself wait. Peter was already en route by now.

  He went down to meet the boat earlier than necessary, having told Martha that he wanted to go alone, and was pleased to run into George Leighton as he strolled toward the landing area. They settled down at a café near where the boat tied up and ordered coffee. Charlie noticed that there wasn’t a trace of the alcoholic fumbling that had been characteristic of him lately. He looked cheerful and relaxed. What had taken place with Jeff added warmth to his affection for George. There was the bond of shared love.

  “Peter’s due back, is he?” George asked when the coffee had been served.

  “Yes,” Charlie said firmly to still any doubt he might have.

  “I came along to see if Costa’s aboard.”

  “You know Peter. He wouldn’t come back until he succeeded.” He was drawing on the reserve of confidence he had stored up in himself. Something might turn up involving Costa that would delay him. If he had sent a wire, it wouldn’t arrive till tomorrow.

  “Have you seen Jeff today?” George asked.

  “No. I haven’t seen anybody. I haven’t been out of the house until this minute.”

  “I just wondered. He didn’t come home last night. It doesn’t matter. He said he might stay out. Nobody seems to’ve seen him.”

  A little tremor of anxiety fluttered around Charlie’s heart. “I saw him last night,” he said.

  “Oh, good. Look. I know he has no secrets from you. He’s talked quite openly with me. I’m not in a state about—well, about the way he’s turning out. You know me well enough to know that. I mention it just so you won’t feel you’re compromising him if you can give me an idea of what he’s up to.”

  “I haven’t the slightest. He came by the house after dinner. You know I came out with him yesterday? I told him he could spend the night—you know, kids sometimes feel more at ease with a friend than with their parents—but he seemed to have something on his mind and took off.” God knows, I tried to keep him, Charlie thought.

  “I gather you and Peter have been very good to him. Your being fond of him makes me very proud of him.”

  “He’s a fascinating kid. Mike knocked the stuffings out of him. I’ve tried to help him as best I could.”

  “I hope I have, too. You’d know the right things to say better than I would, but yesterday I felt as if we could talk to each other like friends at last. When your two are older you’ll find that’s one of the most satisfying things that can happen to a parent.”

  “He said you’re a wonderful man. He told me to tell you.”

  “Really? My God. I think I’m blushing.” A smile of great sweetness passed across his face. “I hope he’s found somebody to cheer him up.”

  Charlie’s hands tightened on the arms of his chair. It still wasn’t pleasant to think of Jeff giving himself to others. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said with an ease that he felt deserved congratulations. “You know how promiscuous we all are at that age, especially if we’ve been kicked in the teeth by someone we love. It’s the first cure we think of.” He found himself searching for some other explanation for his disappearance. Had his making a point of saying good-bye meant anything? “Do you suppose he could have gone back to Athens? If he did, Peter will know. He’d be bound to go see Peter.” To offer himself again and complete his conquest of his twin gods? Peter simply wouldn’t be interested.

  “I don’t believe he’d clear out again without telling me. I have a feeling he’s going to be all right now. After all, I retired from life myself for a couple of days. Whatever he’s doing, I hope he’s having fun. He’s always been inclined to take things too seriously.”

  “I know. I kept thinking yesterday how much I’d like to make him laugh.”

  George put down his cup and looked at him intently across the table. “You care about him that much?”

  Charlie looked into keen, understanding eyes and nodded. “Let’s say that if I were younger, I could really fall for him. That’s just between us.”

  “Of course. Thanks for telling me. I hope you don’t mind my asking a personal question. There’s a lot I’d like to understand. Is he attractive? I mean to men. If you were playing the field, would you pick him out?”

  Charlie resolutely held his eyes on George’s. “He’s a beautiful boy, George. You can see that for yourself. If you accept the fact that men can be attracted to each other, it doesn’t require any special understanding. It’s just people.”

  “Then you think Mike took him away because he really wanted him, not just—I don’t know. I guess what I’m really asking is whether you think Mike had anything to do with his deciding he’s homosexual.”

  “Good God, no. He told Peter all about it—when? Day before yesterday. He was still a virgin then.”

  “So he told me. Well, it was time he cleared that hurdle. You think it’s reasonable to hope that he’ll find a guy and make something good like you two have?”

  “He doesn’t think he can. That’s the only thing that bothers me. I’d like to convince him he’s wrong.”

  “Good. I’ll probably get over wanting to kill Mike. I’m glad it’s all out in the open. I want to help him find everything that’s good in it. I know you and Peter will, too.”

  “I want to. I hope we’ll see a lot of him before he goes. And in the States too, of course. It’s nice to know we’ll be so close. It’s funny. I’ve been thinking of him as a child until the last day or two.”

  They gossiped of other island matters. George was in good form. Charlie gathered from several chance words that he and Sarah were on good terms again, which pleased him. Reconciliation was in the air; he felt it as a support for his own eagerness to close ranks with Peter. For moments at a time, his ears stopped straining for the ship’s whistle. When it sounded, he was immediately on his feet and had taken up his position at the barrier, barely aware that George had followed him and was at his side. The boat had not yet appeared around the eastern promontory.

  When it did, he straightened and watched tensely as it slid in bow-on toward the quai. Engines were reversed with a swirling of water and it swung around broadside as lines were thrown. His heart stopped as his eyes swept the decks. He had only an instant of agonized suspense. He saw him immediately, standing at the rail beside where the gangplank would be hoisted aboard so that he would be one of the first off. Their eyes met. Across the narrowing gap of water, he learned all that he needed to know: Peter was his. It was a great deal. It was everything. The fire was still in him; it warmed his love for Peter. They signaled to each other and engaged in exuberant little pantomimes to tell each other how glad they were to be together again and that all was well at home.

  “He looks as if all his news is good,” George said at Charlie’s side.

  As soon as the gangplank was in place, Peter sprang lightly down it and was with him in a blaze of golden radiance. Their arms went around each other’s shoulders in a quick embrace, Peter shook George’s hand, and they all started to talk at once. Amid the shouts and the excited babble of returning travelers, Charlie made no effort to follow what was being said. Jeff’s name caught Peter’s attention.

  “What do you mean, nobody’s seen him?” He turned to Charlie with an air of reproach. “Why didn’t you keep him with you last night?”

  “I told him he could stay. He didn’t want to. I thought he might’ve gone back to Athens.”

  “I don’t think so,” George said. “He’d have let me know. You didn’t bring Costa with you?”

  Peter gave Charlie a puzzled glance before turning back to George. “He’s out. Everything’s all right.”

  They had moved away from the crowd and conversation had become possible.

  “Good for you,” George said gratefully. “Where is he? I’ve got to make up for my stupidity.”

  “I gave him money. He’s having a little rest cure. He had to sign a paper saying that the police had treated him with exquisite courtesy. He
promised not to come back until there’re no signs to the contrary.”

  “Christ. Was he badly beaten?”

  “Oh, he didn’t look as if they’d really put their hearts into it. He’ll be all right in a week or so.”

  “If you know where he is, I’ll go up in the next couple of days and have a talk with him.”

  “I think he’d like that. He’s a good guy. He was really sorry about having to get Jeff into it.”

  Peter was setting a brisk pace. They had time for only a few more exchanges before they had reached the turnoff where the climb up to the Mills-Martin house began. They all stopped.

  “I can’t thank you guys enough for everything,” George said.

  “All for the common cause,” Peter said. “You’re looking good, George.”

  “Persevere, lads. That’s my message for the day. Most of all, thanks for helping me to get to know Jeff. If we can cover our losses with a few gains, I guess we can’t complain.”

  They exchanged fond smiles and lifted their hands in parting and Peter started up the steps as if he were in a hurry to get home. As soon as they were out of sight of George, he slowed to a more normal pace.

  “Tell me about Jeff, for God’s sake,” he demanded. “Is he all right?”

  “I suppose so.” Charlie had had a few moments of worry about Jeff—he had assumed responsibility for him and the note of farewell at the end had been a bit odd—but he was so happy to see Peter that he didn’t see any need to worry more about him now. “He’s probably filling the world with a rage of male love. I think that’s the way he put it.”

  Peter uttered brief rueful laughter. “Oh, dear. Is that the next phase? It sounds like him.”

  Charlie knew he had no right to feel this deep singing contentment; having Peter once more at his side was a prize he had won by cheating. Running after him, taking him, not with real need but with calculation, seizing the opportunity to balance accounts with him for his display of nakedness—yes, that must have been in the back of his mind at first with Jeff, before it became so much more appalling. Scoring off Jeff to put Peter off the scent was the last straw—cheap and unworthy of Peter’s faith in him. He was assailed again by guilt for all the unforgivable things he had done since Peter’s departure. “Listen. I think we’d better have a talk before we go home.” He felt rather than saw Peter’s quick glance before they both returned their attention to the uneven steps. They were beginning to pant slightly with the climb.