Memoirs of a Gigolo

by Margaret Buffano

  I could not help but feel awkward. I don’t know why, it wasn’t I who was committing adultery, but it was an ill at ease feeling we both felt standing there in that vacant waiting room.

  We discussed it in whispers, and decided it best to leave the building and wait across the street – watching the goings-on of the office from afar. We didn’t have to wait long. A young chickadee, dressed in a clean white nurse’s uniform was standing at the front door. Dear old Albert accompanied his employee, kissed her good-bye and then waved her off.

  Chi and I entered the building, and went straight to the door marked, Doctor Albert Kenyon – we knocked.

  “What did you forget, sweetie,” came Albert’s voice from behind the closed door. He opened the door, expecting to see his young immortal beloved, surprised to see only Chi and I.

  “Oh…I’m sorry…I thought you were someone else…may I help you gentlemen?”

  “Are you Doctor Albert Kenyon?” Chi asked.

  “Yes I am…how can I help you?”

  “Word around town is you’re one of the country’s leading plastic surgeons, and I’m in need of your expertise.”

  “We’re open Monday through Friday; if you have a problem, you can call and our staff will be glad to set up an appointment for you.”

  “My problem is of a delicate nature, Doctor; I would appreciate a moment of your time.”

  “Very well, please come in,” Albert said, leaving the door open as an unspoken invitation to enter. He sat down behind his large desk and motioned for us to sit.

  “So, how can I help you, Mr.….?”

  “Jackson…Chi Jackson…and this is my friend, Alex Defy.”

  Looking at him sitting behind his desk, smiling at us, I would say Albert Kenyon was perhaps the most unnoticeable, unattractive, un…un-person I have ever met. He was short, dumpy, old and bald, with a face that had so few features; he was understandably unmemorable.

  “Forgive me, Mr. Jackson – was it, you say you’re in need of my services, but looking at you I can’t fathom how. You have all your limbs and faculties, you look young and healthy, all your facial features are superb, I’ve never seen such a perfect nose!”

  “As I said, Doctor, my problem is of a sensitive nature.”

  “Go ahead, Mr. Jackson. Don’t be ashamed; we’re all friends here.”

  “Well, Doctor, it’s my…my,” Chi bite his lip, “it’s my…my penis.”

  “Continue,” said Doctor Kenyon.

  “It’s the size of my penis…it’s too…it’s too large,” Chi said.

  Now, I bit my lip –hard, trying not to laugh.

  “Too large, you say,” echoed Doctor Kenyon.

  “Yes, far too large for any real meaningful intimacy,” Chi spoke in tragic tones. “I’m the brunt of a cruel joke, Doctor. The average man thinks it a blessing, but for me, Doctor, it has been nothing but a curse. I dream of being able to make love like a normal male; that would be heaven to me.”

  “I see,” Albert was shaking his head in disbelief or sympathy, I was unsure which.

  “I tried for years to find a woman who could accommodate me, but it was hopeless. Finally, in despair, I switched to men. Still, even with their more, how do I put it, more accommodating size, it hasn’t worked out well for me.”

  Albert’s eyes went wide. I found myself caught up and enthralled by Chi’s imagination.

  “Now, there is just Alex, here, who I love dearly,” Chi lamented, “Finally, I have found my soul mate, and sex is not possible! To put it bluntly, so the saying goes you always hurt the one you love. I’m so tired of hurting my loved ones. You must help me, Doctor!”

  I’m sure, Albert interpreted the tears in my eyes as tears of sorrow and pity, but they were shed from the horrible task of holding back the laughter of my lifetime.

  “So, you would like a penis reduction?” asked Albert.

  “Yes, is it possible?” asked Chi.

  “Of course, it’s possible. But, tell me, Mr. Jackson, how big is it?”

  Chi didn’t answer, but held his hands out palm to palm. Like a fisherman describing a catch, the space between was startling.

  “Can you do it, Doctor?”

  “I suppose so,” Albert replied.

  “And will you do it here?” Chi asked.

  “Oh, no, not here; though I have an operating room on the premises, it’s for more trivial operations. For something of this caliber, it would be best if done at one of the major hospitals.”

  “So, you have the means, here?” Chi asked, “You see, I prefer not to be subject to embarrassment by onlookers of a hospital staff. The idea of a smaller facility, such as what you have here, is more attractive to me. May I see your operating room?”

  Doctor Albert knew for such an operation the only logical venue would be one of the local hospitals. Still, whenever the occasion called for a tour of his facility, which he was especially proud of, and rightfully so, his ego could not say no.

  We stood in the operating room, admiring all its wonderments.

  “So, why can’t we do the operation here?” Chi asked, “It seems you have all that’s needed.”

  “We do,” said Albert, “We can perform any major operation you can think of, but for something of your nature, if something were to go wrong, I prefer having all the emergency equipment that a fully-equipped hospital has available.”

  “That’s too bad, I’d prefer to have the procedure done here,” Chi said.

  It was true; it looked like any other operating room you find in any hospital.

  “And what is this?” Chi asked, picking up a plastic face mask lying on the operating table connected to a long hose running to a nozzle in the wall with a two-knob faucet.

  “Oh, that’s for our anesthesiologist. The right-knob controls the oxygen, the left the anesthesia.”

  “Right is oxygen, left is anesthesia,” Chi echoed, “seems simple to me.”

  “Only in the hands of an expert,” Albert warned.

  A crazed look came over Chi; Albert didn’t see it coming, but I did.

  “Left is anesthesia?” Chi repeated.

  “Yes…that’s right…but…?”

  Before he could say another word, Chi grabbed hold of the face mask and placed it over Albert’s nose and mouth. He held the man in place with one hand and turned the left knob, the anesthesia, on full blast. Albert struggled under Chi’s hand; the gas entered his lungs.

  “Quick, help me hold him steady,” Chi cried to me.

  I stood there, helpless, unable to move, watching the horrific murder of Albert Kenyon.

  “Help me hold him, or I swear you won’t see your cut of the money,” shouted Chi.

  Like a zombie, I walked over and took hold of Albert. I held his body, while Chi held his head and the mask over his face. The sound of the gas hissed in our ears mingled with the grunts and moans coming from Albert.

  A few seconds later, Albert became weaker and weaker. Eventfully, his struggling stopped. We held his limp body for a minute or two more, to make sure every ounce of life had left him. Finally, we released him; his body fell to the floor. Chi reached over and turned off the gas, and then he took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the nozzle and face mask.

  “…mustn’t leave a trace of evidence.”

  I looked down at the lifeless Albert; I went limp in the knees; I never wanted to be what I now was…a killer.

  I was ready to leave, but Chi had other plans. He went over to the medicine cabinets that lined the walls. He picked up a metal stool and started bashing the cabinets until all the glass fronts of the cabinets shattered and all the drawers were open and everything accessible.

  “This is for two reasons,” Chi said, “One…it makes it look like a breaking and entering, poor Albert had the misfortune to walk in on. Second…we get our hands on some pricey drugs – we can sell them – an unexpected business perk!”

  “Oh…is that what you call it…business perks? So, now we’re drug dealers,
too!” I said sarcastically.

  “I don’t get you, Alex! You want the best of both worlds! You want an omelet, but you don’t want to break any eggs!”

  He was right, it is a messy world, and I was in the thick of it.

  “You’re right,” I said, “I’m just not used to all this…it scares me.”

  “Don’t’ be afraid,” Chi said, “I’m with you, and I will never leave you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “A walk in the park”

  There once was a Buddhist monk who traveled alone all over Burma. He spent most of his days in the jungle, praying, meditating, and fasting. Whenever he found himself becoming too lean, he headed to the nearest village with his beggar bowl and the villagers offered him morsels of food.

  One day, his wandering brought him to a large fishing village on the Ayeyarwady River. The villagers had erected a grand holy temple, which they were all proud of. The monk entered the temple, carrying his beggar bowl.

  There, in the center of the temple, were the remains of a large tortoise. It had died many years ago, and all that remained were its skeleton and its enormous green shell.

  The villagers had mounted him atop an altar of pure gold. They placed garlands of jungle flowers around his neck. They burned incense, chanted, prayed to and worshipped him.

  As the monk passed by the altar, the spirit of the tortoise cried out to him.

  “Oh, humble monk, please, help me!”

  “Help you?” questioned the monk, “Why would you need help from me or anyone, for that matter? Look at all you have, you rest on an altar of gold, and you have offerings at your feet and garlands around your neck. You have the adoration and worship of the entire village! What more could you want?”

  “Alas,” said the tortoise, “is it not better to be unknown, unloved, unwanted, and sitting atop a dung heap…and to be alive!”

  ***

  The body of Dr. Albert Kenyon lay in an Eternity 500 coffin – top of the line. His dark blue suit was handmade by Anton on Park Avenue – a small shop…a little overpriced…but superb craftsmanship. His shoes handcrafted by Tito in Portugal. To get a fitting it takes about three days. Tito makes a cast of your feet, and from then on you can order your shoes by telegram, since Tito does not own a phone.

  The morticians had done wonders with Albert’s appearance…miraculous, actually. His skin was less pasty looking than it had been in life. His cheeks were rosy, and his face was robust. In fact, if it were not his funeral, one might say he never looked so healthy.

  When I entered the Cathedral, the one hundred member choir was in full swing. There were priests everywhere dressed in gold and silver, and the entire place was foggy from incense. Julia had obviously pulled out all the stops and was sparing no expense to honor her beloved Albert.

  It was a full house…standing room only. All the Uppity-ups of the city were there. Who would ever guess the hottest social event of the season would be Albert’s funeral?

  It was clearly a solemn, unemotional affair. The only tears shed were those from the young Nursy-pooh, Albert’s Snuggle-bunny two nights each week, who Boo-hoo-hooed throughout the ceremony. What she was going to do with her Tuesday and Thursday nights from then on, heaven only knows. It makes a person ponder.

  There was Mrs. Kenyon seated at the front. Dressed in a tasteful, unrevealing black dress; only her brown-tanned arms exposed. She wore a black lace veil, which cloaked her face. Perhaps, it was to hide her smile?

  A shiver came over me when I noticed Chi seated six seats behind Mrs. Kenyon. I was there out of morbid curiosity, but I dread to think what his reasons for being there were. I backed up slightly, out of his field of vision. I did not want to talk to him at that moment.

  I stood at the back of the Cathedral, eyeing the sea of lowered heads praying for Albert’s immortal soul, when my eyes focused on the back of one head in particular.

  I’m sure it’s possible for two women to have the same shape head, the same hair color – brushed silver – and the same geometric style haircut, but it seems unlikely. I was reasonably sure it was Justine.

  A feeling of uneasiness swept over me; I started backing out of the church.

  Why was I having such feelings of being uncomfortable in her presence? Was it because I ignored her letters and phone messages? I didn’t owe her anything, not even an explanation! Was it because she was pure and innocent, and probably the only Good person I knew? I’m sure that must have played a part in it.

  If I had to come clean, I’d say, deep down inside me I knew if I were to look into her eyes or hear her voice, my heart would either melt or break. I still wanted her, desperately.

  The split second I stepped out onto the street, someone grabbed hold of my arm. I turned; it was Chi.

  “Just the man I wanted to see.” He smiled as he let go of me.

  “Chi…I didn’t know you were here. How have you been?”

  “Didn’t you get my messages?” he asked.

  “Messages…what messages? I didn’t get any messages.”

  I was lying; he had left numerous messages lately.

  “Really…? I’d get me a new answering service, if I were you, buddy boy.”

  “So, what did you want?” I asked.

  “I need you to help me sell those drugs,” he whispered, “I can’t do it alone. I’ve got a plan. Come to my place tonight around ten.”

  “I can’t, I’ve got a date.”

  “Break it!” he growled, and then he started to walk away.

  “But…”

  “No buts, Alex! We’re in this together, remember! Just be there!”

  I watched him storm off.

  So, now Chi was to call the shots? The prospect frightened me.

  ***

  The stench of cigar smoke permeated the entire hotel room. The sheets and pillows reeked of Havana stogies.

  “What does your husband do?” I asked Margaret Ann. “Does he sleep with a lit cigar in his mouth?”

  “Honey, he’s got that damn cigar in his mouth from morning till night. He’d take it into the shower, if he could – some kind of oral fixation, if you ask me. Now, I have an oral fixation, too, you know,” she giggled as she rolled her naked body on top of mine.

  “Really…I hadn’t noticed,” I said, smiling up into her blue eyes.

  “You know what’s not fair?” she asked, “The difference between women and men…”

  “Oh, and what’s that?” was my response.

  “Well,” she said, “we just made love together, and if my senses don’t deceive me, I’d say you enjoyed it as much, if not more, than I did!”

  “And your point is?” I asked.

  “Well, if a man wants to get his jollies, he finds himself a prostitute, pays her maybe one tenth of what I give you, has his way with her, and the poor dear never even enjoys a minute of it!”

  “Ah…yes,” I said calmly, “but when it’s all over, she takes her money and leaves. She doesn’t have to lie in bed for the next hour listening to meaningless dribble – that’s why…I get the Big Bucks!”

  She looked at me sternly for a moment, and then suddenly burst into laughter.

  “Touché,” she said, rolling off me.

  “That reminds me,” I said, “I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

  “Oh no, not tonight!” she pouted, “I’ve already called, and we’ve got reservations.”

  “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you when you come to town next month.”

  “Oh, we won’t be coming in next month. We’re booked on a ten day cruise – a tour of the Greek Isles. Say, why don’t you come with us?”

  “Go on a vacation with you and your husband? I don’t think that will work.”

  “Of course it will!” she said, rolling back on top of me. “It’s one of those Poker Championship cruises. Once the ship is out at sea, they start playing high-stakes poker twenty-four seven. I won’t see Kendal the entire trip! I’ll be alone! You’d be doing me a
favor. I’ll pay for it all – your flight, your cabin…”

  “I don’t know?” I questioned the sanity of it.

  “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll pay you handsomely for your company, and I promise you won’t have to listen to too much meaningless dribble.”

  “I was only fooling about that,” I said.

  “Yeah…I’ll bet,” she giggled. Then a serious expression came over her face, “Now, about that oral fixation of mine…”

  ***

  When I arrived at Chi’s, it was clear to see he had been drinking. Not made of much more moral fiber than he was, I decided to join him and poured myself a large scotch.

  Chi was packing the drugs we had taken from Albert’s office into a small black gym bag.

  “You know, if we’re caught with that stuff, they can tie us to the murder?” I said.

  Chi ignored me; he zipped the bag closed.

  “So, what’s this great plan of yours?” I asked.

  “We’re going down to Wilson Park and sell this stuff.”

  “Wilson Park,” I laughed, “better known as Needle Park! It’s a haven for junkies; even the police stay out of there!”

  “What better place to sell it!” he hissed, “What’s the matter…afraid?”

  “You know Chi, some people wouldn’t call it fear; they’d call it intelligence!”

  “Well then, just call me stupid!” He picked up the bag and started for the door. “Come on…let’s go.”

  I finished my drink in one gulp and followed him down the stairs and out onto the street.

  Feeling we should at least take some precaution, we walked three or four blocks from Chi’s apartment and hailed a cab. We had the cabbie drop us off three blocks from our destination.

  It was nearly eleven-thirty when we stood at the entrance to the park. We walked down the lane deeper and deeper into the darkness.

  It was clear to see the city authorities had given up trying to restore and preserve the park – it would only be a waste of money. Many of the light lamps someone knocked out, park benches turned over and broken, and there was garbage everywhere. It was a sad nightmare. I suspect it is how the entire earth will look like when evil finally triumphs.