Nick Nolan
Page 31
Arthur closed his eyes and began. "never in my life have I been more flattered--no, more honored--to have someone like you interested in me."
"Don't do this Arthur," Jeremy pleaded. "Don't leave me. Everybody leaves me."
"And that's exactly why we need to end this... this part of it. Before the inevitable happens. I know that if we tried to make this work, it would end in disaster: hurt feelings, unfulfilled expectations, resentment, disappointment, second-guessing ourselves. And I could never live with myself knowing I had a chance to head all of that off before it happened; that if I'd listened to my head instead of my...my desperation and my ego and my cock, that we could've been in each other's lives until the very end. Because that's what I want. And I think that's what you want, too."
"But it'll be perfect, Arthur. You and me and Bingham."
"You're right. It would be perfect for a year, maybe two--if we're really lucky, then maybe even five. But now it's going to stay perfect for a lot longer than that because we're going to do our very goddamned best to go back to the way things were before."
"But we've had the hot gay sex."
Arthur laughed. "And it was great. But the hot gay sex can be just as good or better with the one you're really supposed to be with--or maybe it's not quite as hot, but there are other trade-offs that make up for it." He thought for a moment. "That's one of the things about being gay that you still don't really know about. Because we're outside of mainstream society, we don't have to follow their rules, so you're pretty much free to experience it the way you want to--so long as you're safe and you don't hurt anyone or do anything illegal; in other words, we're already square pegs, so we don't have to kick ourselves for not fitting into round holes, so to speak. And besides, you're off to school in the spring, so that's going to be a great learning experience for you--sexually, and otherwise. And it's going to take up a lot of your time. What would you do with this old man pining after you, wondering why you were out so late and why you're not coming home this weekend?"
"But I'm not living on campus," Jeremy reminded him. "I'm gonna commute."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't. Maybe you should have that once-in-a-lifetime American college experience, where you live in a dorm and do stupid things and cram for tests and hang out with your buddies and talk about life until the sun comes up. And"--he hesitated--"I really don't want to ask you this, but you've never really told me why you wanted to be with me. I mean, any idiot can see why I would be in love with you, because...God must have been horny the day he made you, but why do you want to make this into something more? Why aren't you out there trying to find another guy your own age?"
Jeremy looked down at the table for a moment, then lifted his eyes. "All my life, as long as I can remember, it's been just me. Me with no dad. Me with my drunk mom. Me thinking I'm the only fag at school. And then I come to Ballena Beach and it's still just me, but now it's with Katharine ordering me around, or Bill the psycho figuring out how to murder me. But then, through all of that, there was you."
Arthur shrugged. "What did I do?"
"You didn't want anything from me," he said. "You were just there to smooth out everything, to be my protector, my dad, my big brother, my bud, even my boyfriend. I mean, we've never had to fight about anything, because you'd never do anything to hurt me."
"Not knowingly I wouldn't."
"But that's what's so important, Arthur. Everybody except you has let me down, has disappointed me. But you wouldn't. That's why we should be together."
"So even Carlo's disappointed you?" Arthur asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
Jeremy's eyes drifted out to the darkened cove. "No, he hasn't. But I know if we stayed together, he will, or I'll disappoint him. You know?"
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. But Carlo and you seem so great with each other most of the time."
"Yeah, but it's like...Carlo has this expectation of me, just like Katharine does; he expects me to be the perfect boyfriend and I'm not, just like I'm not Katharine's preppy little robot. And it's almost as frustrating sometimes living up to his expectations as it is living up to hers. But you; your only expectation for me is to be Jeremy Tyler-- whatever that means." He smoothed the map of veins in Arthur's forearm. "Understand?"
"But I don't expect things of you because I always knew we shouldn't be together,"
Arthur muttered. "And that's the way it has to be. It has to--and I think you know it, you feel it too." He smoothed the long wrinkled bandage on Jeremy's arm, and had a momentary flash of him lying in that creepy glass coffin. "I'm doing this because I want to be there for you, forever. I want to be there at your commitment ceremony or wedding or whatever, weeping uncontrollably in the front row; then sitting proudly at the county courthouse when the child you and your partner adopt becomes yours forever." He looked up at the sky and felt a wet drop land on his nose. "Then I want to listen to you bitch and moan about your partner's maddening idiosyncrasies, all the while knowing you two are perfect for each other. And I want you to be there for me when I find someone, and later when he's driving me crazy, or when either of us finally gets that big promotion. But whether or not I ever find someone again has nothing to do with wanting you to always be a part of my life, because as I get older I want you to help me smooth out those coming bumps in the road like I try to do for you, and then maybe even...maybe when that time comes you'll be with me...you know...at the end."
"I'm not gonna think about things like that," Jeremy grumbled, looking away.
"But that's really what matters in this life, Jeremy: If we love each other, we need to be totally realistic and look down the road, then lay the foundation for that long haul--because there's going to be a million distractions and frustrations and triumphs and failures along the way. As for sex, well, that matters too, but then sometimes it really doesn't. You need to trust me about this. And we'll get over the fact that we crossed that line but then we came right back, and that'll just be a part of our weird little history--no big deal."
"I guess I get what you're saying," Jeremy said, his voice heavy with resignation.
"But do you remember what you told me right after I came to Ballena Beach, when we were in the conservatory once watching the sunset?"
"I remember the conversation, but I don't remember the specifics."
"I never forgot one thing you said to me, when we were talking about relationships.
I asked how you knew when you were in love, and you said it's like knowing the difference between when you're hungry and when you're full."
"I said that?"
He nodded. "And then you said that trying to make yourself fall in love with the wrong person is like trying to make yourself hungry when you've just eaten too much, or trying to convince yourself that you're not hungry when you're starving.
Remember now?"
"Vaguely," Arthur mumbled. "I can't believe you remember all that."
"It stuck with me, Arthur. I've never forgotten that. And I'm sad now because I was just starting to feel full--without convincing myself."
Arthur smiled and closed his eyes. no wonder he loved him so dearly!
"Jeremy, I know--just as much as I know that I'm sitting here right now--that there's another delicious meal somewhere being prepared for you as we speak--
whether it's Mexican or Italian or Brazilian or Asian or Ethiopian or from Kansas.
You're gonna love it, more than these old leftovers. Trust me." He pushed back his chair to stand, then reached across the table to pull Jeremy up. "It's gettin' cold. Do you want to go in? We can make a big fire..."
Jeremy grinned at him, nodding. He pushed his chair back and stood, just as the first sprinkles began speckling the deck.
Then they walked up the stairs to the chalet with their arms around each other, and their empty dishes hugged to their sated bellies.
EPILOGUE
"God, I'm so sorry--I usually keep him on a leash. He's friendly, don't worry."
"Not a problem." Ar
thur allowed the leash in his own hand some slack, and the dogs circled each other comfortably, each sniffing under the other's tail. "He's a beautiful spaniel. What's his name?"
"Bingham. After--"
" Mark Bingham? " Arthur grinned at him unbelievingly. "Believe me, I know the reference; if you can believe it, I almost named my dog that."
"Yeah, he's kind of the martyred saint of guys like...me."
"Guys like us," Arthur added with a smile. His eyes flashed bashfully at him. "So, what about yours?"
"He's a flat-coated retriever. His name's Spot."
"Spot?" The man laughed. "That's hilarious, considering he's pitch black."
"My dad had a dog once named Spot; he loved him a lot. So I named him after him. The dog, that is." He held out his hand. "I'm Arthur, by the way."
"Jess. Good to meet you."
They shook hands, and Arthur sized him up: black hair, flawless skin, intelligent dark eyes, firm handshake...
Very nice.
"Do you live around here?" Jess asked.
"I'm here every day around this same time. otherwise he barks at me until I can't hear myself think; I swear he can tell time. How about you?"
"This is my first time bringing him to the park. I just moved here. new job."
"Well, welcome." He bent down and rubbed Bingham's soft head, and his pink tongue lolled happily from his panting mouth. "What do you do?"
"I'm a finish carpenter."
"You're from Finland?" Arthur deadpanned.
He laughed. "That's good. Actually, I'm Mexican. And Irish. How about you?"
"I sell boats, down at the Marina; actually, they were stupid enough to make me the manager recently. And I'm Irish-German. Very boring."
"Well, it's a small world, after all." He crouched down to scratch behind Spot's ears, and the big dog cocked his head to the side and closed his eyes. "Hey, I love boats." He looked up at Arthur. "I should...come down there to see you sometime; I could even pretend like I'm rich, and go for a test drive--"
"Anytime."
They smiled into each other's eyes. "It's funny, but you look familiar somehow,"
Jess told him. "Have we met before?"
"I was just about to ask you the same."
* * *
The rain soothed his ears, even as it called him gently from his sleep.
He opened his eyes.
Had it really happened? He didn't need to look over at the sleeping form next to him to know it had. He'd been dreaming about it even before he'd awakened; his mind had been running it over and over the same way it did a beautiful song while it's playing, and then even after it ends, with a melody so sweet that you can't let it go--you keep humming and humming it until you get tired of it.
But he knew he wouldn't get tired of this.
Tired of him.
He was a song he'd been singing all his life, even before he knew the melody.
Before he knew the words.
For so long now, he'd been harmonizing with silence.
Until tonight.
He smiled in the darkness, then reached over to smooth his warm, muscled shoulder.
His lover shifted, and rolled onto his back.
Then he sighed.
A sigh of contentment is what it sounded like.
No, a sigh of elation--like the sigh you make when you see the grand finale at a fireworks show. Or maybe it was the kind of sigh like wind winding through a cave...the sound of emptiness filled with God's breath.
He'd never heard a sigh like that before.
Or had he?
Yes, he had.
Once, a long time ago.
TRANSLATIONS
Excerpts from the mass of San Januário are in Latin, and the translation is somewhat irrelevant to this story.
" Quien engaña no gana." Deceivers never win.
menino. Young man.
mijo. My son, used loosely as a term of endearment.
chanklas. Sandals
huaraches Peasant's shoes
hermano Brother
maricón Derogatory term for homosexual
Cariocas Natives to Rio de Janeiro
Churrascarias Barbecue restaurants
guapo. Handsome.
puto. Derogatory term for male whore.
dinheiro. Money.
Cale a boca e dirija. Shut your mouth and drive.
avó Grandmother
Eu entendo mais do que posso falar. I understand much more than I can speak.
Gostaria? Do you want some?
vinte reais Twenty real, or about about sixteen dollars cola de sapato. Shoemaker's glue.
sim, sim. Yes, yes.
obrigado. Thanks.
Com licenca, estou procurando por Afonso Peres. Sabe onde posso encontralo?
Excuse me, I'm looking for Afonso Perez. Do you know where I can find him?
pendejos. Idiots, assholes.
meu primo. My cousin.
Entré Come in.
meu amor. My love.
muito forte. Very strong.
amante. lover.
chorizo Spicy sausage dish
Ela não está aqui. He's not here.
Sabe onde ele foi? Do you know where he went?
Dois homens. Ele saiu com dois homens. Two men. He left with two men.
Eles estavam armadas? Did they have guns?
Maos pra cima! Get your hands in the air!
Senão bou atirar! If you don't we'll kill you!
novia Girlfriend
Que escándalo! What a scandal!
Cai fora, macacada! Get out of here, you monkeys!
Cale a boca puta velha! Shut up, you old whore!
Tire a roupa. Faz o que ele quer. Qual e o seu problema? Vire-se. Get your clothes off. Do whatever he wants. What's wrong with you? Turn around.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
EPILOGUE