All Queers Must Die

by Gerald Lopez

  “She’s an industrious woman,” Simon said.

  “I’m surprised I haven’t seen her around,” Bart said.

  “That’s because she works mostly late evenings, so she can be at home when the kids get out of school,” Julia said. “Since her crew goes in to clean after most businesses have closed for the day, she can work from five to ten or ten to three. Those are the two shifts she has her people work. She and I take turns delivering supplies to my salon in Jacksonville. The woman’s a real godsend. There are times when the resort salon gets busy and I just can’t get away. Lorena was supposed to do this Jacksonville trip, but her daughter got sick with the flu.”

  “Can’t the spa in Jacksonville get their own supplies without you or Lorena having to go back and forth,” Bart said. “Not to be nosy, but gas ain’t free.”

  “I hear you there, buddy,” Simon said.

  “Due to the chemicals involved, it’s a long drawn out process to split the order and send it to two locations—here in Maynard Shores and Jacksonville. There’s no need to ship the downtown Maynard Shores salon’s order to them, when I can just drive it up there from here. I’m trying to arrange for the Jacksonville salon’s supplies to be shipped directly to them, but I’m not 100 percent sure of the manager there yet.”

  “I haven’t heard you mention you don’t trust the manager before,” Reese said. “Do you think she’s stealing or up to no good?”

  “Not stealing exactly,” Julia said. “But she’s a bit too generous with the products. She’s probably giving too many discounts to people I suspect are friends, and using too much product when less would do.”

  “Are you talking about shampoos and conditioners?” Bart said. “I don’t understand why it would be such a problem to ship those things in the mail.”

  “And you call yourself a gay man,” Simon said. “Don’t you know all the things that women do to their hair—they color it, bleach it, straighten it, and curl it. The salons bring out the strong chemicals for that sort of stuff—especially the black salons. And the Jacksonville salon is for black people.”

  “Simon!” Julia said. “The salon in Jacksonville caters to the African-American community. You know that’s how they prefer for us to refer to them.”

  “I don’t think any of them have even been to Africa,” Simon said. “I hate all the hyphens we use today to describe people. Anyway, those women spend the big bucks when it comes to their hair. They are always getting it done, colored, or having extensions put in, and junk.”

  “Are the chemicals used in salons dangerous?” Bart said.

  “They can be,” Julia said. “That’s why I’m very careful about who I hire to work in my salons. I’ll only hire the best trained colorists and stylists.”

  “Yeah, Julia wouldn’t want to be sued by someone, because they had their scalp burned or their hair falls out,” Reese said.

  Bart’s mind started to wander for a moment, as if trying to piece something together.

  “Julia’s an award winning hair stylist and colorist herself,” Simon said. “So, she knows how to tell if someone’s good or not.”

  “That makes me feel safe, knowing we have an expert with us while we’re delivering hazardous materials,” Bart said, then laughed.

  “Don’t laugh,” Julia said,” There’s a fine art to mixing hair color and straightening hair. I know the correct way to do things, but a lot of people don’t. Could you imagine Simon trying to straighten or bleach someone’s hair?”

  Abandoning his previous thoughts, Bart introduced a new conversation. “Simon, how soon do you think you can get our surprise guest for Mr. Orion?”

  “Why?” Simon said. “Are you anxious to get rid of the perv?”

  “Yes, actually,” Bart said.

  “I’ve already talked to Baby Face Mac, the midget,” Simon said. “Sorry, I mean the little person who works at the circus, and he may have some free time coming up. When do you want this to go down?”

  “How does Wednesday of this week sound?” Bart said.

  “That’s just two days from now,” Simon said. “Mac would have to drop some other things on his calendar… which he’d be more than willing to do… if the price is right.”

  “Money won’t be a problem,” Bart said. “Find out what his price is, and let me know what you want at the same time. I realize you’ll be losing a valuable customer, Simon, and you’ll be compensated for that.”

  “Thanks,” Simon said. “Lisa was always nothing, if not fair with what she paid me.”

  “True,” Julia said. “But there’s no need for you to take too much advantage of this situation; especially, when you’ll be getting payment from Mr. Orion as well.”

  “Sounds like Simon’s just being a smart businessman to me,” Bart said.

  “And Mr. Orion will suspect something if I don’t ask him for money,’ Simon said. “In any case, Julia, I have no intention of fleecing your big investor. I’ll make sure the Kristoffs have enough money left to plow into your businesses.”

  “Why did you slap Marcus at the ball?” Reese said.

  “Oh, I got too flirty with Marcus in public and Lisa called me a ‘moneygrubbing attention whore’,” Julia said. “I said something to the effect that she was ‘a cold-blooded bitch’, and Marcus responded by calling me ‘wannabe trash’.”

  “Whoa!” Reese said. “That’s harsh.”

  “Julia flirted with everyone at the ball… that’s just her way,” Simon said. “She’s no whore in any sense of the word, and people in town know that. Even if she wanted to sleep with Marcus, the man can’t get it up. Everyone knows something happened to him back in the old country.”

  “There’s no need to speak about that,” Julia said. “Marcus and Lisa are nice enough people. “Lisa knows Marcus shows me off to his business partners and pretends we’re having an affair. The other men bring their women around too. It’s a male thing, I guess.”

  “And Lisa doesn’t mind him doing that?” Reese said.

  “No,” Julia said. “They have some sort of marriage of convenience. For the most part both of them live separate lives. I actually think they get along well most of the time.”

  “They do have one major thing in common,” Bart said. “They both have an intense dislike of Rachel.”

  “They’re not the only ones,” Simon said. “I’d be happy to get rid of her along with Mr. Orion.”

  “Wouldn’t your business go with her?” Bart said.

  “What business?” Simon said. “Distributing that crappy chupa for her and her people?”

  “You don’t sound happy to be doing that,” Bart said.

  “Let me tell you something about that chupa,” Simon said. ‘Chupa is for chumps in every sense of the word.”

  “Why do you say that?” Bart said.

  “Because it’s cheap,” Simon said. “It doesn’t cost much to make, I’m sure of that… but a man won’t get rich selling it. The only real advantage to the stuff is the low cost of obtaining it. Stupid, stinking, Rachel was dumb to get us involved in selling that crap.”

  “You really aren’t happy, are you?” Bart said.

  “No. And I’m not gonna sit here and say that I’m a great businessman,” Simon said. “I teach rich old women and fags how to play tennis and golf… not to mention doing work as a private trainer at the resort. That’s not what anyone would call a success story.”

  “Don’t put yourself down,” Julia said. “You’re very resourceful.”

  “Oh yeah,” Simon said. “I got a taste of the good life by escorting folks to fancy social events and the theater… and I mean in a legitimate way. No hanky-panky involved.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “The hanky-panky came later, I guess,” Reese said.

  “That was only a few times with some of the old guys at the resort, and they mostly just like to watch,” Simon said. “The exception was when you and I messed around in front of that guy, and maybe one or two other times… but Julia
made me stop. And she was right to do so. It was starting to feel a little like whoring. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind flirting with people to get a good tip, but I suppose things were going too far.”

  Bart tried to sort out everything Simon was saying, so that it made sense. “Basically, if an opportunity presents itself, you’re there, huh, Simon?” Bart said. “Whoring now excluded from that.”

  Simon chuckled before responding. “That’s about right. Well, there would be other thing I’d add to the list of exclusions. Oh… and you know when I mentioned the old ladies and fags that I meant no offense. Hell, I’ve been with girls… I’ve been with guys. I prefer women, but to each their own. One day, I’d just like to make enough money to be able to buy a small house on the beach, where I can play bongo drums in the nude.”

  “The bongo drums and nudity are fine… but no marijuana or other drugs,” Julia said.

  “You’re anti-drug?” Bart said. “Don’t you and Simon sort of help Rachel with her business.”

  “Only so she’ll keep her mouth shut about what she knows,” Julia said. “One word from her could destroy my business. She knows where everyone’s skeletons are, and she’s not afraid to bring them out into the open.”

  “She’s got us by the balls,” Simon said. “And by ‘us’, I mean me. Anyways, Julia and I are smart enough not to do the crazy stuff Rachel sells. I tried pot in my younger days, but it didn’t do a thing for me. At least, it’s relatively safe. I just don’t know about that chupa stuff. Something seems off about it. I sell it for Rachel, because she makes me do it… but I’d never use it myself.”

  “I thought it was just a leaf,” Bart said.

  “That’s just how it starts out,” Simon said.

  Julia’s cell phone rang, and everyone was quiet as she spoke. “Hi, Charmaine. … Yes, we’re getting close now. … I brought everything on your list. … How could you have run out of that already? … Yes, I have some with me. … OK. … See you soon.”

  “Sounds bad,” Simon said to Julia.

  “I’m going to have to spend some time in Jacksonville to set everything straight in that salon,” Julia said. “Charmaine is an incredible stylist, but her managerial skills are somewhat lacking.”

  “Hey, Jeremy… Reese, I forgot to mention something,” Simon said. “When we go in the salon, don’t do anything that might be seen as faggy. Charmaine’s husband doesn’t like fags. He’s almost as bad as Rachel’s countrymen, who say ‘All queers must die’.”

  “Her husband is a bit of a jerk,” Julia said. “And, I’ve told Charmaine I don’t want him around the salon. A lot of the Jacksonville drag queens come to the salon for work on their wigs and hairpieces. I won’t have someone in the salon, who could possibly scare off customers.”

  “I’ve heard and seen that phrase quite a bit since I’ve been back,” Bart said.

  “What phrase?” Reese said.

  “‘All queers must die,’” Bart said.

  “I remember you found that left for you when you went to your apartment after the welcome back party,” Julia said. “Rachel was miffed about someone ruining her happy little message about dieting.”

  “Oh, I forgot about that,” Simon said. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

  “Do any of you know who might’ve written it?” Bart said.

  “It could’ve been anyone,” Simon said.

  “I wouldn’t think that would be a popular phrase around Maynard Shores,” Bart said.

  “Shoot!” Simon said. “I could give you a whole list of people who’ve heard and used that phrase. Most of them even work at our resort.”

  Chapter 42

  Enemies Emerge

  “OH, YEAH,” Reese said. “We heard that phrase a lot on the exchange trip.”

  “What exchange trip?” Bart said.

  “It happened before you came to the resort,” Simon said. “It was Lisa’s idea to have the staff of her island resort and our resort switch places for a week. The Kristoffs own a jet, so it was no big deal for them to fly people there and vice versa. The island was nice, but I wouldn’t want to live there.”

  “Did they use that phrase about queers at the island?” Bart said.

  “No,” Reese said. “When they were flying us back here they stopped to pick Marcus up in his country, and we spent the night there… yuck.”

  “But what about the guests at the resort?” Bart said. “What happened to them when all of you were stopped overnight?”

  “There was still a skeleton staff at the resort,” Julia said. “The whole exchange wasn’t one of Lisa’s better ideas. I could see having management change places, but she let everyone who wanted to go to the island go… even housekeeping staff and valets. She can be overly nice to the staff sometimes.”

  “Jorge… that’s George, and his wife went… along with Joe,” Simon said. “They all act cordial with everyone around Maynard Shores, but over there in ‘Latin land’ they got friendly with the natives and started speaking Spanish—leaving us gringos in the dark. I tried to talk Joe into helping me do business over there, but he was too interested in his boy Jorge—if you get my meaning, and Lorena.”

  “Simon, you need to stop saying that,” Julia said. “You know Joe and George have been friends since forever.”

  “Real good friends, I’m guessing,” Simon said.

  “I think you’re wrong there,” Reese said. “Neither George nor Joe give off any gay vibe to me.”

  “What?” Simon said. “Don’t you remember when they gave us those chupa leaves and Joe chewed one up and was going to spit it into George’s mouth, so he could try it when he wouldn’t do it on his own. That’s pretty gay to me.”

  “He was joking, dumb ass,” Reese said. “He tried to put it in Lorena’s mouth too. She did eventually chew some herself.”

  “Well, that Lorena is hot,” Simon said. “But not as hot as you, babe.” He turned to Julia and smiled.

  “People do stupid things on trips,” Julia said to Bart. “Lorena is a stunning-looking woman, and a man would be blind not to notice her.”

  “Hell, I didn’t pay attention to her there,” Simon said. “Not with all that marijuana they were growing in that country. I’ve never seen so much weed in my life! Here we are stuck helping Rachel sell chupa when there was all that marijuana in her homeland. I practically begged George and Joe to help me try to make deals with some of those farmers they were getting so chummy with, and neither one of those two bastards wanted to give me a hand.”

  Reese laughed. “I remember how mad you were, Simon. It was like they’d laid a banquet out in front of a starving man, then didn’t let him eat anything.”

  “Exactly,” Simon said. “Rachel’s Uncle Roberto just laughed at me when I offered to help him distribute some of the stuff. How the hell was I supposed to know he’d already set up shop in Miami and Palm Beach?”

  “And Maynard Shores?” Bart said.

  “No… not yet anyway,” Simon said. “Hang on a minute… is that why Gabriel is here? Forget I asked. His dad doesn’t tell him anything.”

  “How does everyone around here seem to know everyone else’s business?” Bart said.

  “It’s the resort and hotel business,” Julia said. “There are eyes everywhere. The valets know people’s comings and goings, and the cleaning crew could tell you more than a few things about the guests they clean behind.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Simon said. “If you want to find out anything, just ask one of the maids. They know everything that goes on around here.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Bart said.

  “We’re almost at the salon,” Julia said.

  THEY ARRIVED at The Jansen Salon, which was located in a small strip center in a neighborhood near downtown Jacksonville. The salon was closed for the day, so Julia ran ahead to check in with Charmaine and open the door. When everyone was out of the car, Simon opened the trunk and he, Bart, and Reese lifted three medium-size boxes out of it and he
aded toward the door, which Julia was holding open for them.

  “Follow Charmaine straight to the back,” Julia said. “Thanks.”

  “Julia, you have the best looking men working for you, girl,” Charmaine said.

  Bart tried to listen to Charmaine and Julia’s conversation while he was following behind Reese.

  “Do you have any clue why you’re going through supplies so quickly, Charmaine?” Julia said. “It’s not like you don’t know the proper amounts of product to use.”

  “Just stack those boxes in the back room, I’ll put them away later,” Charmaine said to Simon, Reese, and Bart before turning to Julia again. “Let’s go talk in my office, Julia.”

  They walked away, and Bart and the others went to the back room and put their boxes down. Bart was anxious to go back to the main floor of the salon, but Simon put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

  “Give the girls some time alone to talk business,” Simon said.

  The back room was big enough to serve as not only a supply room, but also the employee break room. There were several chairs set up in the area, along with a refrigerator, and a small table. Simon sat in one of the chairs, while Bart peeked out the door and looked around the salon. The walls were done in a light purple, and all the furnishings, including the chairs at the hair cutting stations were pink. He shook his head in dismay at the colors.

  “It’s pretty bad, huh,” Simon said.

  “I’m not gonna argue with you about that,” Bart said.

  Reese just laughed.

  “We haven’t had a chance to come in and give this place a proper overhaul yet,” Simon said. “The equipment’s all good, and everything’s clean; we’re just waiting for money to be able to repaint and touch up here and there.”

  “Why do you think they’re going through the supplies so quickly?” Bart said.

  “It could be that the people here aren’t careful with their supplies… some of them could be taking stuff home, or they’re using shop supplies when making money doing hair on the side—for family and friends. It happens.”