A Hot Day

Kevin was watching as the hour drew nearer to four o'clock. He stood near the iPod, which was attached to the amplifier, which was attached to the mounted speakers outside the carriage house in the backyard -- the "Funhouse" as it was called.

Out in the yard, other housemates scurried around doing last-minute duties.

They were all moments before the official start of a beach party that August afternoon. It was in the high 90s. The sun was brutal, and the hot tub was clean.

Kevin's late-season, six-week share was beginning. It had been a very busy summer for him until then -- São Paulo, then Mexico, then the week in Tuscany for Dane's birthday with Ran and Jeff and his mother and so many people, then São Paulo again, then Mexico again.

Then the Fourth of July in town. More work from home.

Then -- peace.

Now, the compressed schedule of fun at the beach was beginning. It would be nothing like years past, with Heather House now gone and sold. But he'd walked around on Baltimore Avenue, and had hit the bars and had brunch at Crystal Diner a few times.

It was filling his ears and his nostrils again. It was settling over him. He was back in Rehoboth.

There had already been the 60's party at Dale and Wayne's house the weekend before. And he'd run into at least half the people he knew from the Rehoboth crowd. And he'd heard one or two new songs at Cloud 9 one night. There'd already been drunken, horny Friday night afterhour slosh-fests back at the house. And they'd spent a fun night roaring at the annual Follies.

This was his one big social event that he'd be, in some way, playing host at. Even though he was just DJing.

But Kevin had also begun to change. He'd grown so tired of whining, of waiting -- and of wondering about the future. He'd begun to take action in all matters closest to him.

He'd hired a personal trainer, and was already doing super-sets three days a week. He'd put on about 10 pounds of muscle -- quite a bit for his skinny frame. And was feeling better than he had in years.

He'd become more assertive in his work -- saying no more often.

And his language skills were flourishing. He was taking French, and his Spanish was becoming much better. His Portuguese was now scarily fluent, causing many a Brazilian's eyes to bug out.

It was adding up to something. He could feel it. Just couldn't figure out what. And didn't care.

It was 4:00 on the nose. He hit play on the iPod, and the music began.

Sean trotted over to a cluster of guys he'd met the previous week, all laid out on the sand of Poodle Beach. He was only steps away from their new beach house -- and he was pressing invites into everyone's hands.

"Hey, party..." (Sean)

"Cool...party....right over there, huh?" (Guys)

Everyone was sure that the party would be a success. The last one in July pulled in over 100 people. But last-minute invites pressed into the hands of scantily-clad hot men, informing them that only steps away would be a party with free booze and a lot of other hot men, was always the clincher.

Sean was excited about the festivities. But it also seemed like the summer was just flying by.

He'd been coming to the new house since before the season officially started, and was realizing how much he thrived in that environment. The sun, the friends, the good times. It seemed like it was going so fast already.

Kevin had only just begun his short share, and Roy had only visited once and didn't seem to be coming back now that his life had changed so much.

Matt had moved to New York, and was about to get married in Provincetown. No one was invited.

Elaine had just up and disappeared it seemed. Last he heard, she was back in Brazil, but even Kevin wasn't sure of that.

A breeze was picking up off the ocean. It felt good.

Sean handed his last invite card out and trotted back to the house.

*****

Roy was sitting on the Circulator heading west on K Street.

It was 98 degrees in Washington that afternoon. The tourists were melting into the sidewalks.

As 13th Street approached, it hit him again in the stomach.

But this time it was just an instant. He saw a bum laying on the grass in Franklin Square, and the twinge hit him. Nothing like before, though. No more panic attacks. He just sucked in a short breath and thought about a tall glass of Red Zinger iced tea, of all things.

And it passed.

He hopped off the bus and started up towards N Street. His legs felt fit, and his abs felt firm against his shirt. He felt good.

Taking in steady breaths, he took out his water bottle and started swigging, looking around as the street grew less downtown and more Logan Circle with each step.

He saw Andrew and Phil across the street and waved. He saw a woman from Kevin's building, walking her dog.

He saw a policeman on a bike.

He maneuvered through the various contruction sites along the 1200 block as he got closer.

His heart started to beat a little faster. He felt himself smiling, actually. It was really nice.

Roy started to sweat a little, but he knew it wouldn't matter. Maybe it would even be a turn-on.

He rounded the corner, turning right onto N Street, and he saw Matt's apartment building on the corner. Or his old apartment building.

It was still "Matt's place" in Roy's mind, even though Matt had decamped months earlier and someone had bought the place and made it theirs. Roy remembered Matt's birthday party the previous winter, and his afterhours following Kevin's annual winter party. He remembered a lot of Matt, even though he seemed to be long, long gone in such a short period of time.

But then again, so much was gone it seemed. Long gone.

Roy pulled open the front door of the Mondrian, and buzzed. As always, about five seconds later, the door buzzed open and he scooted up to the back hallway of the first floor.

By the time he reached the apartment doorway, it was - as always - open.

They both smiled, said hi, and kissed.

But this time, Ken held Roy more tightly than normal, just for a quick second, before they stepped in and the door shut behind them.

*****

It was about 5:00 when it seemed everyone was arriving all at once.

The yard filled up, the liquor was flowing and the music was rising measurably.

Kevin was staying close to the sound system inside the Funhouse, while Sean was circulating around and socializing like mad. The house owners, Mark and David, were having a great time -- and must have known at least 80% of the people there. The rest of the housemates were in various corners at various times.

It was clearly a success.

"How's it going out there?" Kevin asked as Sean stepped inside for a moment.

"Excellent, lots of people are here from down on Poodle," he said. "Lots of bathing suits."

"Cool. How's the music?"

"Fabulous as always."

"Great! I'll be out for a cocktail in a little bit..."

Sean nipped back out as Kevin adjusted the sound to the next song. The music was on auto-pilot at this point. He didn't have to think about what came next -- it was all programmed.

He wasn't going to sit inside. It was always Kevin's nature to be where the action was at any given moment.

And as he stepped outside, he felt that his Rehoboth summer was really starting. And sure enough, his favorite song in the whole set began at that moment, too.

Kevin stepped out into the yard, with his empty cup, and headed for the punch fountain. His Ken Cole cabana shirt was unbuttoned, and he had his shell choker around his neck, and a big smile on his face.

"Heyyyy," he heard out of the crowd. It was his trainer, Andy, and the trainer's boyfriend, Mark.

Sean stepped out onto the deck and stood next to the hot tub, looking out over the crowd. He pulled off his shirt and popped on his sunglasses, and stretched his arms over his head to straighten his back.

He looked down to see, in the middle of the yard, the group of five hot guys who got the last five invites out on Poodle Beach smiling, and waving at him to come down.

*****

Roy sat down onto the couch, and ran his hand over Ken's right leg.

Ken handed him a glass of iced tea.

"It's Red Zinger," Ken said. "No sugar."

 

[Posted: August 29, 2005] FEEDBACK PERMALINK