by Tyler Keevil
‘This is pretty wild,’ Bea said to me.
She and I were sitting on the middle deck, next to a table of transvestites dressed in skimpy mermaid costumes. Venus was at the downstairs bar, getting us a round of drinks.
‘We’re the only ones not dressed up.’
‘We’ll just have to improvise,’ Bea said.
‘You can’t improvise a costume.’
Bea was already knotting her blouse between her breasts, cowgirl-style. Then she dug a scarf out of her purse, and tied it around her neck like a kerchief. She pointed at me with both forefingers, miming a pair of six-shooters. ‘Stick ’em up, Huckleberry.’
I held my hands up. ‘You got me, doc.’
She started pulling the imaginary triggers, and I pretended to get shot, clutching my heart and sinking down in my seat. I was lying like that, half-dead, when Venus returned, carrying a tray laden with drinks.
‘What’s with him?’ Venus asked.
‘He’s pissed you dragged him out here.’
Venus sat down and distributed the drinks: three highballs and a round of shooters. ‘I only brought him because I thought he’d like it.’
I popped right up, like a corpse coming back to life. ‘Really?’ I said. ‘I thought you only brought me because you think I’m an uptight straight who’s too macho to handle it.’
She crossed her arms and we stared each other down. Then somebody shouted in my ear, ‘Hey, breeder!’ It was a guy dressed as a skin-diver, except his snorkel was a giant dildo. He prodded me with the dildo, danced a little jig, and pranced off. It was fairly intimidating.
‘See?’ Venus pointed at me. ‘You are an uptight straight.’
‘We’ll see about that.’
‘Them’s fighting words,’ Bea said, in her cowgirl drawl, and raised one of the shot glasses. ‘Now listen, children. We are going to play nice, and have a toast. We’re going to toast the end of Trevor’s journey, and the end of our mutual fasts. To endings.’
Me and Venus joined her, clinking glasses, and chimed, ‘To endings.’
We tossed back the shooters. It was sambuca, which I hate.
The two of them hadn’t had a drink for ten days, and the alcohol hit them hard – especially Venus. After a few rounds she was getting all loved up. She wrapped her arms around Bea and they entwined like a couple of octopuses. The music had fired up – electric bubble-pop – and it was too loud to talk, so eventually we stopped trying. While they cuddled and kissed, I slid an empty shot glass back and forth on the tabletop, leaving slug-trails of condensation.
‘If I go for drinks,’ I asked, ‘do you think anybody will hit on me?’
They stopped nuzzling to look at me. Venus shook her head. ‘Not looking like that.’
I was wearing my road-worn jeans and a green T-shirt, limp and wilted as a piece of old lettuce. Then there was my swollen nose, my orphan look, my whole lovelorn demeanour.
I said, ‘I guess I’m pretty unappealing.’
Bea said, ‘Not to me, Trev. But gay men are notoriously superficial.’
‘Well,’ I said, palming the tabletop to push myself up, ‘what are you ladies having?’
‘Drinks!’
‘Alcohol!’
As I slunk away, they’d already started making out again.
There must have been nearly a thousand guests on that boat. All the decks were full, and the downstairs bar was packed, sweaty, heaving. I waited in line behind a guy in a pair of leather chaps, with a bare ass. I was stuck with that ass for half an hour, and when I finally got to the bar I made the most of it. I ordered a twixer of Cutty Sark and a two-litre bottle of soda to help wash it down. The bartender – a hairy bear in a mesh top – grinned knowingly. ‘How many glasses?’
‘Just one.’
He whistled. ‘Somebody’s having a party.’
‘I’m lovesick, okay?’
It cost me seventy-five bucks, which was a big chunk of what I had left after the cruise ticket and the wad I’d dropped on roulette in Reno. Carrying a bottle in each hand, I wormed and wiggled through the crowds. The only place on the ship I could find any privacy was the back deck, right above the propeller. I sat and straddled a post of the safety rail, with my legs dangling off the stern. Directly below me the wake churned and frothed and bubbled like a cauldron. I set to work on the Cutty, drinking mechanically, taking no satisfaction in it. That went on for a while – until somebody found me. A pair of bronzed legs appeared on my left, and I heard a voice booming down from above. ‘Behold, the lonely straight man.’
I looked up. It was Tao. He was dressed as a surfer, in a shorty wetsuit with no sleeves, unzipped to the midriff. His chest was waxed and burnished and looked absurdly buff.
‘Is it that obvious?’
He lowered himself down, joining me at the stern, and I offered him the twixer.
‘I’m guessing,’ he said, taking a straight slug, ‘that you’re still having issues.’
‘They’re not real issues. Just girl troubles.’
‘Girls are trouble. Boys are so much better.’
I told him a little about what had happened. Not the whole story – just enough to fill him in. As I talked, we shared the Cutty Sark, passing it back and forth, drinking from the bottle.
‘Seems weird they brought you here, when you’re all over the map emotionally.’
‘It was Venus’s idea. She’s feeling threatened.’
‘By you?’
I nodded. ‘She thinks I’m in love with Beatrice.’
‘Are you in love with Beatrice?’
‘Who isn’t?’
He laughed. ‘I know. I’m gay and even I’m in love with her. But listen, man.’ He grabbed me by the neck, pulled me close. ‘You can’t let V get away with that. You’ve got to show her that you’re not as uptight as she thinks. You’ve got to loosen up, relax, go with it.’
‘You sound like a masseur.’
‘I am a masseur. I just work in the juice bar to make ends meet.’
‘Oh.’
‘Come on,’ he said, slapping me on the thigh. ‘Let’s cut up the rest of this Cutty Sark and then go join the fun. They’re playing all kinds of ridiculous games on the upper deck.’
‘I haven’t dressed the part.’
‘We can take care of that. But first you need to chillax a bit. Here.’ He held out his hand, palm up. There was a small white pill in the centre. ‘This’ll help.’
‘Ecstasy?’
‘You know what they say. A halfer for a laugher.’
I didn’t know people said that – but apparently they do. I took the tab, placed it delicately on my tongue, and washed it down with a swig of whisky.
‘In an hour you’ll be rolling,’ Tao said. He got up and stood behind me and started massaging my neck and shoulders, working out the knots. ‘In the meantime, let’s try to get rid of this mad-gruesome vibe you’re carrying around.’
I closed my eyes, feeling my muscles relax.
chapter 63
‘Remember,’ Tao said, ‘if you’re feeling uncomfortable at any point, just say so.’
‘I’m feeling uncomfortable now.’
‘It hasn’t even started.’
We were on the upper deck, in a circle of revellers. About twenty people were taking part. There was a lot of skin on display, including my own. Tao had made me strip down to my boxers. He’d said that I could pretend to be a swimmer, and that would be my costume. All of our bodies were sweat-sheened and glistering. The boat was drifting into the fog bank but it was a muggy kind of fog – almost tropical – and the night was still hot as a lobster pot.
‘Look at these scabs,’ Tao said, spider-walking his fingers over my back. By then the E was kicking in, and his touch tingled on my skin. ‘They’ll think you’re into some really hardcore S&M.’
I swatted his arm away.
‘I lost a fight with a man-tiger.’
‘I’d like to hear that story.’
‘I bet you would.’
/>
A whistle sounded. The hostess with the thigh-highs and fishnets was in charge. She cracked a bullwhip and told us that the first game we were playing was called ‘pass the berry’.
‘All you have to do is take the berries from your neighbour and pass them to the other side…’ She paused, letting us hang, then added the kicker. ‘Using nothing but your mouth!’
When she said that, everybody cheered, and I felt a slap on my ass. I assumed it was Tao, but it wasn’t – it was the diver with the dildo-snorkel.
‘Looks like I’ll be passing to you, breeder.’
‘Oh, boy,’ I said, and inched away from him.
‘Ready, people!’
The hostess strutted up to a blonde girl on the far side of the circle, and popped a strawberry into her mouth. I watched the berry make its way around, from girl to guy to girl to girl to guy to guy. Then the snorkeller had it. By that point the strawberry was pretty chewed up. He bared his teeth, dribbling red, and leaned towards me. I puckered up and tried to take it, but I was so sketched out that I dropped it. It splatted to the floor.
Everybody hooted.
‘Uh-oh!’ the instructor said. ‘Looks like somebody gets a strike.’
I grabbed Tao’s bicep and asked him what that meant.
‘The receiver always gets the strike. Three strikes and you lose.’
By then the next strawberry was coming around. I really went for it, snapping it from the diver guy’s mouth. Then I turned and offered it up to Tao. He leaned in. I felt his lips brush mine as he took it. After passing it on, he wiped his chin and gave me the thumbs-up. ‘Now you’re dancing.’
As the game continued, it got faster and faster. To keep things interesting, the hostess switched from strawberries to cherries to raspberries. The raspberries were tricky. They had a tendency to fall apart. I dropped one of them and got my second strike. But other people were dropping them too. If I could hold out for a few more rounds I might scrape by. Then came the clincher: the blueberries. They were so small you couldn’t really bite them. You had to deliver them to the next person with your tongue. Tao was a gentleman about it but the dildo diver tried to take advantage. As he made the pass, he slipped his tongue inside my mouth and wiggled it around, like a persistent little slug.
‘Easy, man,’ I said, jerking back.
The blueberry dropped out and plopped on the deck. It bounced once, like a marble, then stopped. The whistle shrieked, right in my ear. The hostess had been waiting beside me, ready to pounce.
‘That’s THREE strikes!’ she shouted.
The rest of the contestants went crazy, stamping their feet and shaking their fists in a kind of primal dance. I stared at the blueberry. I couldn’t look away from it. The lady blew her whistle again to get everybody’s attention.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘He’ll have to hook up with the winner. How many people have NO strikes?’
The snorkeller’s hand shot straight up. He wanted me bad, that guy. But there were a few other contenders, including Tao. To decide between them, the hostess had them all draw a condom packet from a bag. Most of the packets were blue. Tao’s was pink.
‘That means it’s you!’ she announced.
He smiled at me. Ruefully. ‘Sorry.’
‘It could’ve been worse,’ I said.
The other participants encircled us. The fog had thickened, hanging over us like a veil. You couldn’t see the shore any more. You couldn’t even see the water. But you could feel it – rolling and roiling beneath us, as if the whole bay was set to a low boil.
Me and Tao stood in the centre of all that, facing each other.
‘You can always make a break for it,’ he said. ‘Jump overboard.’
‘I can handle it.’
The lady cracked her whip again, right next to my ear. ‘Okay, people,’ she shouted. ‘Let’s count them in. Five… four…’
Tao put his hand on my hip. His touch felt hot, scalding.
‘Three… two…’
The fog swirled and shifted, obscuring the circle of onlookers.
‘One… kiss!’
I froze and he leaned in and kissed me. Hesitantly, to start. Then more hungrily. His mouth tasted of vodka and tonic and a faint hint of mint. At first he was mostly kissing me. Then I started kissing back. His palm found its way to the small of my back and slid up my spine. I clenched him in a kind of headlock. Around us, the voices of the onlookers rose up in one of those steady crescendos that goes whhhoooooo!
When the lady blew her whistle, we kept kissing.
chapter 64
Later the boat hit a shoal, or a sandbank. We weren’t sure which. We just felt the lurch and heard the low, vibrating groan as the vessel ground to a halt. Me and Tao were sitting at the bow, cuddled up. I had my legs stretched across his lap, and an arm draped around his neck.
‘What was that?’ I asked.
‘We hit something.’
People were peering over the sides, excited. The captain made an announcement on the PA system, telling everybody to stay calm. He said we were stranded, but not sinking. Another cruise boat was coming out to pick us all up.
‘I guess that means more boy-time for us,’ I said.
‘I told you boys are better.’
‘Let’s see what toys the boys got.’
For participating in the berry game, we’d been given a prize pack – a sealed plastic bag with a label on it that read Warning! Contains Sexual Contents. We opened it up and went through it together. Inside was a cock-ring, a silver dildo, some condoms, a battery-powered buzzer for shocking nipples, an eye mask, and this glass vial labelled Rock Hard.
‘Is that a shooter?’ I asked.
‘Poppers. A lightweight aphrodisiac.’
‘Just what I need.’
He raised his eyebrows, and I had to explain about my limp-dicked dilemma.
‘You mean, even when we were kissing…?’
I shook my head. ‘Nothing.’
‘That’s terrible. Here.’ He unscrewed the cap, and held the vial beneath my nostrils. ‘Breathe deep.’
I inhaled. The gas slipped up behind my eyes and pressed out from inside. There was something familiar about the sensation. ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘It’s kind of like huffing whippets.’
‘It’s exactly like huffing whippets.’ Tao took a sniff himself. ‘It’s the same gas, only more so. Any joy?’
We both looked down at my crotch, as if we expected my dick to leap out of my pants and do a little dance.
‘Nothing doing.’
‘Maybe you need more.’
We kept sniffing and inhaling, inflating our brains like balloons. Between huffs we cuddled and kissed and played around with the nipple buzzers, giving each other shocks. We stayed there a long time, hidden in the mist, electrified by Ecstasy. Other party-goers floated dimly past, immaterial as ghosts. We were still at it when I heard somebody call my name.
‘Trevor!’
It was Bea. She pointed at me, then took three steps and surfed over the deck towards us. Venus straggled up after. They were both sweaty and sloshed and liquor-logged, but Bea managed to make that seem somehow glamorous.
‘We’ve been looking for you.’
I smiled at her. Coyly. ‘I was with Tao.’
I was still cuddled on his lap, still half-naked. Beatrice looked from me, to Tao, and back to me. ‘Okay, Trev,’ she said. ‘Time to get dressed and say bye-bye. We’re leaving.’
‘It’s not even midnight yet. Besides – we’re stuck here.’
There was still no sign of the rescue ship. Apparently it had been delayed.
‘I called Victor. He’s picking us up.’
‘He’s driving his water taxi all the way out here?’
‘He already has. It’s tied up at the stern.’
She gestured that way. If it was anybody other than Bea, I wouldn’t have believed it.
‘You go ahead,’ I said, leaning my head on Tao’s shoulder. ‘I’ll stay with Tao. It’s boy-t
ime, right, Tao?’
‘That’s right,’ Tao said, kissing my forehead.
Beatrice covered her face with a hand. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’
‘Oh, let him stay.’ Venus gestured expansively with her cocktail glass. Liquor slopped out on to the deck, and she nearly lost her footing. ‘It’ll do him some good.’
‘No,’ Bea said. ‘Trevor’s coming with us – and that’s that.’
I looked up at Tao, and shrugged.
‘I guess that’s that, then.’
We started kissing goodbye, but Bea interrupted and hauled me up and dragged me towards the stern. The taxi was there, all right. Victor stood on the gunwale, with both arms crossed, grinning his gold-toothed grin. He extended a hand to help Beatrice aboard, and then Venus. When it came to me, he took a look at my half-naked state and held up his palm to stop me.
‘You have no clothes.’
‘I have them,’ I said, showing him the bundle. ‘I’m just not wearing them.’
‘On my boat, you wear them.’
I started getting dressed as Victor undid his tie-lines. People had gathered round, whispering and muttering, watching us launch. Tao had come to see us off, too. He called out to me, ‘Can we hang out again some time?’
‘I don’t know.’ I hopped aboard, and looked back. ‘My life’s complicated right now.’
Venus snorted, in that way of hers.
As Victor fired up the engine, Beatrice strode to the prow, and stood surveying the bay with her hands on her hips and her feet shoulder-width apart. Then she pointed dramatically, like Christ in that famous Caravaggio painting.
‘To Alcatraz!’ she shouted.
I thought she was joking, and maybe she was, but Victor obeyed her. He took us on a personal tour of the island, circumnavigating it twice. At night, in the dark, you couldn’t see much – just a hunk of rock, rising from the fog like a Leviathan, dotted with a few glinting lights. We all huddled in his wheelhouse, and knocked back shots of Ukrainian potato vodka.
