by Trina Solet
“I don’t know what you were expecting, but with that shitty attitude, you’ll never know how good I am. Your loss. That’s not why we’re here anyway. I just happen to be good company. Just how good will remain a mystery to the likes of you.” Ray tried to sound confident, maybe even cocky. But he probably just sounded petty.
What he said didn’t make any difference anyway. He didn’t think Marcus even heard him. Marcus stared at him like he couldn’t see him. It was a terrible look, like someone staring into the past and only seeing the ugly things lurking there.
Suddenly his vision focused on Ray again.
“Is a hot fuck from you supposed to cure me? Is it supposed to make me feel better that I killed my brother and sister?” The anger in his voice was so powerful, Ray held his breath. But he noticed that Marcus didn’t say stepbrother and stepsister like Lionel had. It was obvious that’s not how he thought of them. That was even worse.
“What were you and your brother fighting about?” Ray asked. He didn’t know why he did it. It just came out.
Marcus laughed a laugh that looked like it hurt. He leaned over, like his chest or his stomach were in terrible pain. Staying hunched over, he started talking.
“He wanted me to cover for him so he could go to this party he wasn’t supposed to go to. I wouldn’t do it. I told him some stuff he didn’t want to hear about his asshole friends mostly. He got mad, called me names. He called me a fag. He did that whenever we would fight. He didn’t have a problem with it the rest of the time. But I let him get me worked up. I remember Vicky yelling at me to slow down, but I tuned her out. She screamed at us to stop fighting just before we crashed. We were saying terrible things, and then the car was spinning from the impact. Someone had skidded into our lane, slammed into us and pushed us off the road. Then it was all over,” Marcus said, but Ray knew it wasn’t all over for him only for them.
“They wouldn’t want you to die too,” Ray said. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to say that, to speak for them. He just felt it was so true that it had to be said. Marcus didn’t take it well.
“What the fuck do you know? I’m getting a sympathy fuck on my uncle’s dime. You know what that makes you?” His eyes blazed as he said it.
“It makes me what I used to be before I met your uncle.” Ray told him truthfully. He wasn’t going to lie or be ashamed.
“Are you saying my uncle played good Samaritan once again? What a shock. What a surprise. So you used to be everybody’s whore, now you’re just my uncle’s.”
Marcus still looked blindly toward him as he tried to insult him. He didn’t exactly hit the mark. Ray was mad but he knew the real source of his anger. And that anger had only one target and that was Marcus himself.
“You can believe whatever you want about it. But yes, that’s what I did before your uncle saved me.” Ray emphasized those last few words.
“If I’m here then you’re still doing it. What the hell. Let’s get on with it. Give me the treatment. Give me the good stuff. Come on. Let’s have some sex therapy.” Leaning toward him, Marcus ran his hand along Ray’s thigh pulling him toward him lightly. Ray didn’t move. Marcus repeated the move with his thumb on the inseam of Ray’s jeans. Ray tried not to, but he got hard. If only Marcus didn’t have that sad look in his eyes, anything might have happened. He was unbelievably attractive especially when he looked so vulnerable.
“Lay it on me,” Marcus said. Ray could tell that it was the booze talking. Marcus gave him a hurt look that pretty much demanded that Ray refuse him even as he hooked his hand under Ray’s knee and drew him closer.
In response, Ray put his hand on Marcus’s leg, caressed him. He wanted Marcus, but Marcus didn’t really want him. He just wanted to escape the pain. Ray reached for his face. He only touched him with his fingertips, and their lips brushed only for a second before Marcus stood up. It was like Ray had burned him. He was breathing hard.
“Do it right or don’t bother,” he finally said. He turned to look at Ray sideways. He looked scared. “Strip, show me what you got, then use it. Don’t fuck around with me.” His words were harsh. There was a mean look creeping into his eyes to accompany his words but mostly Ray saw fear.
No, he wasn’t going to fuck around. Ray made a decision.
“Maybe you should go sleep it off.” Ray was standing too now, using his height to look down at Marcus. “It was nice meeting you. I’ll call you about next time. Now you better go.” He sounded more cool and decisive than he felt. God, why did Marcus have to look like that? He was so devastating, attractive, hurting. And Ray had to throw him out for his own good.
For a minute Marcus just stared at him like what Ray said was in a foreign language. Then he started to leave. He moved slowly, like he was drugged though Ray didn’t think it was because of the booze. When it seemed like he might forget his jacket, Ray handed it to him without a word. Marcus looked blank as he went past him while Ray stood back afraid of accidentally touching him. He wasn’t afraid of how Marcus might react. Ray was afraid that all his resolve would crumble if there was any physical contact between them.
*
Marcus arrived at Ray’s place reluctantly. Expecting some kind of sordid, paid for encounter, he had no intention of being nice. That wasn’t part of the deal he made with his uncle. But as soon as he saw Ray and heard him stammering about beverages, Marcus decided to be on his best behavior. He wasn’t sure what his best was right now, but he would try and be good for Ray’s sake.
Ray struck him as being a little airheaded but welcoming and eager to be a good host. When Marcus ate the corn muffin, Ray beamed at him. It was strange, but in every way, Ray seemed genuine. Marcus couldn’t imagine that a guy like him would have anything to do with his uncle, much less do his bidding.
It was too bad that Marcus couldn’t stay a well behaved guest. He hated that he spoiled their evening. But something inside him was threatening to give. It was that same thing that sent him searching for a gun. Somehow it got redirected into the pointless flailing and ranting at Ray’s expense. He was sorry he took it out on him. But afterwards, Marcus felt that the dark impulse inside him was spent or deflated by his encounter with Ray. Now he found himself torn between hoping Ray wouldn’t call and fearing he would never see him again.
*
Next morning, Ray was annoyed to realize it was Saturday. The reason he didn’t welcome a day off was Marcus. He was on Ray’s mind, and he didn’t have enough to do to keep himself busy and distracted from him. Plus Ray had an obligation to make contact with him again, and it nagged at him. But that wasn’t the only reason he was so restless. Ray felt things between them were unfinished. He had to see Marcus. He had been a good guest until Ray gave him booze. At the time, it seemed to him that Marcus needed it, that he needed a release. And he probably still did. Ray resolved to manage things better if he got a second chance.
After spending all day in a state of unbearable tension, Ray called Marcus again. When he answered right away, Ray almost laughed with relief. He had feared that his call would be ignored. Ray hadn’t made plans yet so he told Marcus to just meet him at his apartment. Marcus agreed much in the same way he did the last time, out of obligation. Ray didn’t care. He was just so glad he hadn’t ruined things for good.
Just like last time, Marcus was late again. He came in looking the same as he before, unshaven, too thin, but no more sullen than last time. That was good. It meant that Ray hadn’t done too much damage.
“Did you call me over here so you could refuse to have sex with me again?” Marcus asked as soon as Ray let him in. He didn’t sound mad about it. He said it more like it was a joke.
“Maybe. It all depends on how rude and or drunk you happen to be at the time,” Ray told him. He didn’t invite him to sit. He had made plans for them to go out.
“So,” Marcus said. “What’s on the menu?”
“Beer. I deprived you of two things last time: beer and sex. We’re going beer tasting,” Ray announced as he
grabbed his jacket but didn’t put it on.
“I like beer, but I’m not a beer connoisseur. I’ll take whatever is cold,” Marcus said like Ray had offered him a trip to the dentists instead of an evening of beer tasting.
“Too bad. We’re going anyway. This place has all kinds of beer, and we’ll taste as many as we can get our hands on before we fall down,” Ray told him as they went down in the elevator.
“I thought you didn’t want me drunk,” Marcus reminded Ray that he was contradicting himself.
Maybe he was. Ray wasn’t sure what he had said exactly, but he was going to deny it anyway.
“I don’t remember saying anything about not getting you drunk. I just said you couldn’t have sex with me if you’re too drunk to appreciate me.”
“Is that what you said?” Marcus was skeptical of his explanation and also a little amused.
“You don’t listen, that’s your problem. Let’s go.” Ray led the way when Marcus hesitated outside the door of the apartment building since he didn’t know where the place was.
They walked down the tree lined street that Ray liked to look at from his dining table. The street was pleasantly shaded in the daytime, and it gave him a good feeling to walk under the trees any time. The place he had picked out wasn’t too far. It was a nice stroll getting there, but they didn’t dawdle. Beer awaited.
Jan’s Beer Palace was decorated in rich greens and browns. It was both cozy and cheerful, and it smelled like the kind of food you want to have with beer. The lights had a pleasant glow, just bright enough to read the menu. The noise that filled the place had a jocular sound to it, the sound of people having a good time. They picked a booth and started looking over the menus. Marcus looked exclusively at the beer one and ignored the one with the food in it.
“All right. Let’s get me drunk,” he said.
They didn’t just get drunk though. They also had some spicy sausages with sauerkraut and fluffy buns. Marcus didn’t eat very much, and Ray resisted the urge to bug him about it. Then they got drunk very slowly on many different kinds of beers. Most of the beers tasted pretty much the same, but they didn’t mind at all, especially later in their tasting.
As before, Marcus got a little testy as he got smashed. It just took him longer to get there on beer than on vodka. Ray had just asked him a question. It might have been about college or his plans, nothing that should have set him off.
“I like how you’re so interested in me. You going to write it all down so you can report to my uncle?” Marcus accused him in response.
“I haven’t reported to him,” Ray asserted. And it was true. They hadn’t even spoken since Lionel had given him this assignment.
“Yet,” Marcus said, and he might have been right. Ray couldn’t say for sure that he wouldn’t talk to Lionel about him in the future.
“Don’t finish my sentences,” Ray told him instead.
“Finish them yourself then.”
They were both slurring their words a little. It was true that Ray wouldn’t have refused to discuss Marcus with Lionel if he asked. Ray couldn’t refuse him. But Lionel was too smart to ask about Marcus. He wouldn’t want to interfere and compromise whatever progress Ray might be making with his nephew. Ray wasn’t sure that he was making progress though, especially with Marcus accusing him of spying on him for his uncle.
While he had stopped listening, Marcus had started saying something that sounded irrelevant.
“It’s in Hamlet. Hamlet’s evil uncle sends these two guys to spy on Hamlet because he is acting crazy. And Hamlet has them killed. Makes them unknowingly deliver their own death sentences,” he said.
Ray didn’t like the sound of it.
“I’ve just decided that I don’t like Hamlet or Shakespeare,” he told Marcus. Ray couldn’t remember if he ever even read the play or just saw a movie.
Distracted, Marcus was looking out of the window on the other side of the Beer Palace. It showed a stretch of water and the sky, both dark now. It wasn’t obvious from where they were sitting, but there was a terrace for outdoor eating that looked out over the river.
“Let’s go outside and clear our heads,” Ray suggested and led the way out.
The terrace on the back of the restaurant was closed to customers. There was yellow tape strung in the way and a sign that said it was off limits. With the same thought in mind, Marcus and Ray looked around and saw no one who might stop them. They ducked under the yellow tape. The reason for the warning was obvious. A part of the railing had been removed and there was an unprotected drop beyond it. There was more yellow tape where the railing had been. It wasn’t a long way down, but it didn’t take much for some drunk fool to break a leg and file a lawsuit. They decided to be brave. They lowered themselves down under the yellow tape. They scrambled and got dirty, but now they were on the level of the riverbank. The water was only a few feet away. It felt like an adventure. And down there they were invisible. Ray felt exhilarated. Marcus did too. He was smiling and looking over the water.
“Do you think it’s warm enough for a swim?” he asked.
“I’m more worried about dirty not warm or cold,” Ray said. The weather was more cool than warm, as expected in the evenings at this time of year, but the water would be even colder. Plus it didn’t look clean.
But Marcus didn’t listen. He was already taking off his shoes, his socks then his clothes. Ray joined him mainly to make sure he didn’t drown. They kept their boxers on so they wouldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure, or at least they wouldn’t get arrested naked. The water was freezing, but that didn’t stop Marcus. He hissed as the cold water hit him but kept going in deeper. Ray was following but couldn’t keep up. Every part of him was shriveling. Ray thought his whole body might curl up and turn back into a fetus. He shivered so much he was afraid of breaking his teeth when they chattered.
“I hate you so much,” he managed to say to Marcus through gritted teeth when he caught up to him in chest high water.
“I think there are fish here,” Marcus said with wonder.
“Why wouldn’t there be fish? It’s a river,” Ray grumbled.
“I think one just brushed my leg. There it is again,” he said with delight.
Ray didn’t share in his enthusiasm for fish swimming around his legs in murky water.
“Can we get out now before my junk decides to stay shriveled up forever?” Ray asked.
“I know what you mean,” Marcus said and looked down at himself. Ray didn’t want to think about what was happening in his boxers, in either of their boxers.
They started to head for dry land. Their feet were muddy. They wiped them on some grass as best they could. There was a breeze picking up so they were freezing. Wet and shaking, they did the best they could putting on their clothes and shoes. The clothes didn’t help much in warming them up, just stuck to them, clammy and cold. They ducked back into the Beer Palace just long enough to pay the bill. Their waitress looked at them like she was surprised to see them back. Maybe she thought they might have run out without paying. Ray gave her a good tip after she offered them some towels to dry off with.
They sprinted back to Ray’s place. No doubt they looked like lunatics, wet and running like crazy. But the weather was cooling off as it did sometimes in the spring. It was like winter was going to make a comeback. They shivered in the elevator and rushed into Ray’s apartment. After hurriedly emptying themselves of some beer, they threw off their now wet clothes all over Ray’s bedroom and put on his sweatpants and sweatshirts. Ray gave Marcus the yellow ones someone had given him as a bad Christmas gift. He never knew if they were supposed to be a joke or if someone just had terrible taste. Marcus gave him a wounded look because he looked like a banana in them. Ray insisted that they hang their clothes so they could dry and not ruin his carpet.
They had turned away from each other while they were changing. Ray wanted to have a look at Marcus naked, but mainly he wanted to get warm and also to piss away some more of that beer
. While Marcus took his second turn in the bathroom, Ray put extra blankets on his bed. Without needing an invitation, Marcus climbed in bed next to him. They huddled, shivering under the covers then they were asleep.
*
It took a moment for Ray to orient himself the next morning. It was Sunday. That was a relief. Ray was in his own bed with Marcus, in his yellow sweats, sleeping next to him. Not one bit of covering was left on the bed as they got warmed up then too hot during the night. They had kicked it all off even the sheet. At one point, Marcus tried to kick Ray off the bed too because he was pressed against him. Ray convinced him that he wasn’t a blanket by kicking him back in protest, so he let him stay.
Taking the opportunity to examine Marcus as he slept, Ray leaned close. Marcus’s face looked pale under the stubble. Ray could see a few beads of sweat on his upper lip. Instead of staring at him like a creep, Ray decided to get up. As he climbed out of bed, careful not to wake him, he found he had more beer to get rid of. There was a slight hangover, but not too bad. Ray went and made coffee. He considered various breakfast options but then just ate a banana and laughed remembering Marcus in those sweats.
Ray got to laugh at him again as Marcus stumbled out of his bedroom scratching his head and yawning. Ray offered him a banana. He took it without seeing what was so funny.
Ray was hardly done pouring him a cup of coffee when Marcus grabbed it out of his hand with a heartfelt “thank you”. He was sipping the black coffee before it could have cooled even a little. Ray refused to pester him about it. He was a big boy. He could burn his tongue if he wanted.
With more coffee for each of them, they stayed in their sweats on his couch. Ray sat there with his hair both matted and sticking up in places. Marcus demonstrated the advantages of extremely short hair by not looking like a crazy man. Ray had fetched the Sunday paper from outside his door, and they pulled it apart between them. It was nice to sit with Marcus on a Sunday morning, drinking coffee, looking through the newspaper, though Ray couldn’t concentrate on anything long enough to do any actual reading.
