All the Rage

Staring at the cardboard skyline littering his new living room, hallway, spare room and bedroom, Jeff wasn't ready to jump in just yet.

It was like going over the edge of Niagara Falls. It would be a long, bruising ride to the bottom. The laws of physics didn't allow for anything less.

Unpacking. Not terribly glamorous. Certainly not when you have to do it alone, after moving from a four-storey Victorian to a 1.5 bedroom penthouse condo.

So, he decided it was, instead, time to check his email.

****

The beeping started about nineteen minutes into the call. Kevin's cell phone battery was dying. The team members on the call (speaking in three languages) were in the middle of a debate on the timing of a report draft release when he spoke up.

"Hey guys, I have to drop off the call for a few minutes until I get back to my office. My cell is dying," he said, cutting into the crosstalk. A series of okay's and hasta-luegos followed and he popped the phone shut, sighing heavily in the cold, damp crosswind at 14th and P Streets.

He dashed across 14th as the light was changing. The phone was warm in his chilled hand, nestled in his pocket. It had been on steadily all day, crisis after crisis ringing in from all over the Western Hemisphere. It seemed as if everything was going wrong all at the same time.

And messages had been stacking up on the voice mail. He looked at the time display quickly -- it was 1:54pm. He could take a break, at least in the time it would take to round Logan Circle, walk south a block, run into his building and make it up to his apartment.

****

The traffic on the Bay Bridge was squeezed down to one lane on the eastbound side. Roy was leaning forward, wanting to return the pedal to the floor quickly. He'd run out of CDs, having picked all the wrong ones for the drive, and the Washington radio stations were starting to fade from the dial, replaced by more and more diatribes on Jesus, the French and evil.

His phone began to vibrate. His sister's name popped onto the display.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm on the bridge."

"You're on the bridge now?" (She was mad.)

"I got a late start."

"OK, well...." (She trailed off for a second, either to think or to stifle a curt remark.)

"I'm like an hour and a half away then, right?"

"Mom and I are going out. Just call us when you're getting close, all right?"

"OK."

"Good bye." (She hung up.)

Roy sighed. It was a Thursday. He was driving out to the Eastern shore to see the new house his parents were buying -- the big move from Bucks County to St. Michael's. He'd taken the day off. He'd been up since 7am, dealing with work emails and phone calls despite being officially on a vacation day.

And pleasing no one, it seemed.

****

As soon as Kevin sat down in front of his laptop and dropped his cell phone into its cradle, everything was beeping and ringing.

"Hello?"

"Are we leaving for Florida before or after lunch tomorrow?" (It was Jeff.)

"Huh?"

"Did you get Dane's email?"

"Not yet...Are plans being made I'm not aware of?"

"Well, he rented a car and is driving from Tampa to Fort Lauderdale tomorrow to pick us up from the airport, so I guess he's hoping we'll be showing up..."

"Really?" (Dane had said something on the phone the night before about not wanting to come back to Washington just yet from his work conference.)

"So I have some very good fares out of National, but he'd better answer his damn phone soon or I'm gonna lose them..."

"Wow, okay..." Kevin was trying to keep the fifty or so important things in formation in his head for his return to the conference call. In all three languages. "Listen, I'm in. But I haven't got a spare second to do any of the planning, so can I leave it to you guys right now? I'm really slammed here."

"Don't worry," Jeff said. "We've got it under control."

"OK, Eds."

"So long, Pats."

And Kevin pulled his chair over to the landline and was connected to Los Angeles, Charlotte and Mexico City again for what seemed like the remainder of the afternoon.

But with a verbal spring in his step,as he thought about someone else taking care of him for a change. It was difficult to relax into -- but very comfortable once he found the sweet spot.

****

The sky was darkening for twenty minutes before the snow started falling on Route 50. Roy had to slow down again. He was now close to two hours late.

His phone began to vibrate again. It was his sister Karen again. This time, he didn't answer it.

Instead, he turned up the music -- and thought about Ben and Frederic. About Ben's lips, and the look in his eyes when he'd smile and say something in English. About Frederic's hugs - always slowly tightening and confident. And kind.

Roy thought about Paris.

As the music played, he remembered that first night at Pearl, and the feeling of peeling off the shell of Washington and just letting go of all the fear. All the tension. All the stacked expectations he felt emanating from everyone and everything. Melting away. And the wilderness of the city -- of the life all around him there -- pulling him into its lush, green embrace.

This doesn't have to be so bad. I don't have to care what Karen thinks of me. I don't have to even wonder. I'm just fine.

Wonder...

He heard Elaine's voice in his head. Standing near him on the dancefloor at Lizard Lounge after Kevin's party. "I wonder about a lot of things, but I never wonder about Roy..."

She'd been saying it to Matt and Sean. Just loud enough for Roy to hear. It wasn't a grand, overdone gesture. She'd just been bucking him up. Everyone kept asking where this person or that person had run off to -- some of their sketchier friends and acquaintances that evening. Elaine was reaffirming her confidence in Roy.

And Kevin did, too. In Paris. When Roy showed up at Confession after disappearing for the day. "I never worry about you," he said, with that smile of his.

There, Roy thought, the people who count treat me right.

Why do I give shit anymore??

And, with a sort of inevitability, the music shifted to the song playing when Roy went out to the terrace at Kevin's party. When he decided he'd had enough of Ken's mouth, and was going to say so. When he stood behind him -- Ken was talking to some girl he'd brought, who smoked and who no one knew -- and took a deep breath.

"What is your problem, Ken?"

(Ken jerked around at the sound of his voice.)

"My problem?"

"Yeah. Your fucking problem. With me. With everything it seems. What is it?"

Ken had a strange melanged expression -- a little shock, a little fear. A little cockiness. A little vacant apathy. His eyes squeezed together, facing Roy.

And he said nothing.

He just stood there.

"I don't know what I did or said to merit everything you have done to me tonight and before, Ken," Roy said, very well pulled-together despite the number of Peartinis he'd downed. "I just wanted you to know that nothing you say about me to my friends goes unanswered, now or any time. Do you understand me?"

Silence.

"...And I don't give a rat's ass about what happens to you anymore. I used to care about you. I used to like you. Now I have no idea who you are. And I don't want to know anymore."

Damn! I was good! He played it again in his head, this time he got to pause on the moment when Ken looked away, and play it a couple of times. Over and over. It was a good moment.

And cool as a cucumber, Roy turned around, buttoned his coat, and walked through the terrace door, straight through the living room and out of Kevin's apartment -- out of the building -- and right into a cab that pulled up about three seconds after he hit the sidewalk.

Right away, it passed. He got no joy out of telling Ken off. It didn't answer the question at the heart of everything: Why?

And all the way to Lizard Lounge, his phone was beeping with text messages. One from Matt. And Kevin. And Elaine. But Roy kept trying to call Ben and Frederic. He just wanted to hear one of their voices. And there just seemed to be no way to do it with his Verizon phone.

The same phone that started vibrating again.

"Hello?"

"Roy?" (It was his mother.)

"Hi, Mom. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Where are you?"

"I'm close. I'm on 50, but it's snowing so I'm a little slowed up."

"Oh, okay..." (She was a little distracted.) "Um....."

"How's Dad?"

"He's fine....Karen wants to talk to you."

(His sister came on.)

"Where are you?" (She was still mad.)

"I'm about a half hour away I think."

"Well, we have to get to the tournament in 45 minutes, so you'll have to let yourself in."

"Is everyone leaving?"

"Well, it's the semi-finals and it's Tom's team." (Roy's brother-in-law was a high school varsity wrestling coach. Their oldest son was on the team.)

"Um..." (He didn't think she was going to thank him for coming all this way. Seemed like she wanted to punish him for being late.) "Well, where is it?"

"It's in Mardela Springs. The high school is right off 50."

"Well, tell me where it is and I'll just meet you guys there. I want to see everyone."

(Apparently they wouldn't be stopping at the new house. The whole reason he'd taken a day off and driven out there in the snow. His mom was probably trying to tell him when his sister walked into the room. Who knows.)

****

"Well, hello there..."

"Hello."

"How are you?"

"Fine. How are things?"

"Much better now. Jeff just emailed me with my e-ticket."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes." (They were both audibly smiling into the phone.)

"That's good."

"How's the weather down there?"

"It's warm."

"Good."

"When do you guys arrive in Lauderdale?"

"Seven tomorrow night."

"Happy?"

"Of course."

Silence.

"I miss you."

[Posted: February 7, 2005]

"Are you guys at the school?"

"Yes, go ahead and park. We're waiting in the lobby."

The parking lot of the high school in Mardela Springs was almost completely full. Cars were starting to park along the side of the front lawn. It was dark.

What a turn out for a high school wrestling match, Roy thought.

I really am in a different world.

And the school was in the middle of what seemed like a dozen variations on Wisteria Lane, with houses and street lamps and new sidewalks everywhere. He parked his very Blue State car in one of the last non-handicapped parking spaces left, and jumped out.

It was still snowing. And the desperate housewives of Mardela Springs were filing into the school, along with awkward pre-teen girls and boys, and husbands who often seemed to have no physical or stylistic connection whatsoever to the frosted, tanned, sprayed and ironed women leading the march.

It wasn't hard to find his family. Karen was greeting people like it was her house they were entering, even though she was the wife of the coach for the visiting -- i.e. opposing -- team. It was just a natural skill of hers. She was a sort of mid-level aristocrat in the suburban Red State society of St. Michael's. The wife of the wrestling coach, with three attractive, extremely extra-curricular children in the public school system. A beautiful four-bedroom house with a big back yard and circular driveway. She knew everybody.

And despite her growing anger throughout the day over the phone, she was as pleasant as could be when Roy stepped up.

He kissed her on the cheek, then got a tight, affectionate hug from his mother and a spritely "hi Uncle Roy!" from his ten year-old niece and thirteen year-old nephew, both of whom sandwiched him between them on the front bleacher inside the gym as they took their seats for the match.

Roy knew next to nothing about wrestling, but his niece -- who was on the cross-country team, the girl's soccer team, the field hockey team and the girl's lacrosse team at her junior high -- made sure he knew exactly what was happening, how the scoring was done, and who each of the players were -- their history, what to expect from each round, and how crucial their place in the lineup was.

His nephew, when he occasionally emerged from his mp3 headset, would ask what sports Roy played in school (none), whether he had a girlfriend (no) and who he was rooting for in the Super Bowl (um....).

*****

Kevin sat in his living room as the lights came up all over Logan Circle. Clancy was fast asleep in his basket, snoring in long, drawn out honks.

Snow flurries were falling over the city.

Kevin had finally finished his work and closed out his Outlook. He opened his browser and started looking for the weather report for Fort Lauderdale.

The phone rang.

"Hey, it's Jeff."

"Hey!"

"So are we ready for tomorrow?"

"I certainly am."

"I was thinking of swinging by around noon and we'll just drive out to the airport."

"That works."

"Have you talked to Dane yet?"

"Briefly. He was busy."

"Well, he had his ringer turned off. I was dying. I had fares going all over the place like the Nasdaq until we finally connected and I could book."

"Well, it doesn't surprise me. My guess is his links with the outside world were at the bottom of his priority list at that conference."

"Well, we're staying at the Flamingo, right off Las Olas. It's like three blocks from the beach."

"Excellent - I'll look it up right now." (Kevin googled it and found the website.)

"We'll get our deserved bit of luxury..."

"Any idea of the weather for this weekend?"

"I saw partly sunny and high 70s..."

"Yeah, I did, too....Oohh, this is a nice website."

"Yes. And I think I've been there before. It's nice. Not as big as Pineapple Point, but it's nice."

"Hey, it's in Florida, for God's sake..."

"Exactly. We'll just lay by the pool and rejuvenate."

"Oh, I need this...."

"Me too, sweetie. I have to get out of this cardboard hell I'm in."

"Ugh, I can imagine. I hate unpacking. It takes all the fun out of moving."

"I never found moving fun in the first place..."

"So what's Ran doing this weekend?"

"Working."

"Poor bastard..." (laughs)

"Oh, I know. He'll be happy when I return all rested and happy again. This weekend would have been particularly hellish for the both of us if I wasn't jetting off with you tomorrow."

"Amen to that. I like the idea of seeing Dane in Florida rather than in this cold place..."

"I'm so excited! We have to come back with some color and parade around making people jealous..."

"That's half the fun!"

"Did you get the e-ticket confirmation I sent?"

"Yes, thanks for that. We'll settle up later."

"Yeah, it's no problem. Let's just enjoy ourselves..."

*****

Karen was waving at people, leaning back to share news on this or that with other mothers, or screaming out advice or encouragement for the St. Michael's wrestlers one at a time -- Joey, Kyle, Mark, Justin, Peter...whoever.

And as Roy's mother was showing him pictures of the new house (which he'd not get to see), it dawned on him. He looked out at the gym mats in the middle. Two very muscular 17 year-olds (for two kids) were rolling around on the floor, with skimpy outfits, grabbing and grappling at one another with teeth-clencing determination.

2/3 6:05pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
OMG im at a
hs wrestling
match!

Up to that moment, it was as if he'd been conditioned not to be himself in this part of the world. Or any part of the world that was the domain of his sister and the society she not only came from but was some sort of player in. Like he was programmed to turn off his gay self -- his true self -- when venturing into her territory. Not by anything she ever said, perhaps only intimated once or twice in 20 years. But certainly by some set of switches that had been preset in his own head.

Beep.

2/3 6:06pm
MESSAGE from
Elaine
behave

And as Joey (was it?) and a kid from Mardela Springs with an impressive upper body (for a kid) went at it on the mat, all the good women of the two communities -- along with their somewhat somnambulant, overweight husbands -- began to scream and get (appropriately) red in the face.

"Get 'em down! Get on 'em"

"Drill him good, Joey!"

"Get his legs in the air!!"

And his brother-in-law, Tom, and the opposing coach (who was basically a black version of Tom right down to the dress shoes and Land's End tie) were both barking orders through cupped hands with increasingly hoarse tones.

The two boys, struggling mightily with one another's entire body, showed impressive skill. Thoughtful tactics. They each tried to telegraph confusing intentions to the other -- of sudden weakening to encourage bold moves...or great sudden thrusts to exploit mistakes, or hints that each knew the other's weak spots in form, undermining each other's fragile self-confidence. And all the while -- muscles were flaring, bodies twisting in all directions. Faces tightening. The full unspoken narrative on that mat only audible to the two boys locked together, with most of their skin pressed so close to each other that all the many whispers between their bodies could never be heard beyond the two of them.

Even with the whole community watching every move with rapt intensity.

2/3 6:08pm
MESSAGE from
Kevin
where??

2/3 6:08pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
mardela springs,
md

Joey flipped his opponent onto his back, while the other kid fought bravely and intensely to get back up.

2/3 6:09pm
MESSAGE from
Kevin
dont get arrested,
honey ;)

The kid's formidable chest and shoulders won out, and he managed to get all the way back up on his feet, and went after Joey.

2/3 6:09pm
MESSAGE from
Sean
send pics!

2/3 6:10pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
no cam on phn

Before long, they were back down on the mat, each fighting for an opening against the other.

2/3 6:11pm
MESSAGE from
Jeff
whats this i
hear about a
twink fight?

"We need a pin," Roy's niece told him, energetically. Karen was alternating between talking to another mother, and covering her eyes.

And something stuck in Roy's head as she did it. Once, when he was driving between their house and a restaurant, with his two nephews in the car, they both mentioned that they were passing over a spot on the highway where their school friend and her entire family were killed in a head-on collision with a drunk driver. And the two of them stuck their heads out the window to almost commune with the place of such sudden tragedy and drama. The kind which goes almost unnoticed outside that world they lived in, but rarely happened in Roy's world. September 11 happened in his world -- with an ex-boyfriend killed on Flight 175 and a work colleague dying at the Pentagon (not to mention the huge explosion and fire visible from his office's conference room window) and several downtown buildings emptying out their panicked contents on worldwide television. That was drama in Roy's world.

He watched Karen press her eyes tightly closed for a moment, rather than look at Joey twisting the other kid's head around, with the full force of his body against the kids arm and side. That despite their bulging frames and the hair sprouting off their legs, arms and chests, these were kids. Like her oldest. And their necks were as fragile in her mind as a sparrow's. And the dramatic horrors of her suburban world were all too possible, exploding as they did in the middle of everyday life when you least expected it.

And the buzzer sounded. The period was over. The crowd cheered.

2/3 6:13pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
dont call the
police...yet
;)

[Posted: February 9, 2005] FEEDBACK PERMALINK

 

 

Dreams of SPF 45

Friday night had been chilly. Saturday was cloudy and dreary.

But Sunday was gorgeous in Fort Lauderdale.

They rather impatiently waited for brunch to arrive at Trina down the road, with its breezy beachside views. It was a good perch for people watching.

But Dane wanted his lattes (plural) pronto, and his leg was hopping up and down.

And Jeff and Kevin were itching to get finished, get out of their clothes, and get into the sure-to-be-all-to-brief sunshine before having to fly home to a cold Washington that night...

...They tore through their waffles, paid the check and ran back to the hotel for the rest of the afternoon.

As Jeff and Kevin tossed off their towels and lay out next to the pool, Jeff opened up his beach bag.

"Which SPF are we doing today?" (Jeff)

"Well...I want to say 45, but looking up at this sun..." [it wasn't so high in the sky, and was heading off to the right, behind the buildings, in about 3 hours anyway] "...I'd say we bust down to 15 or we're going home as pale as we were last night."

"Gotcha."

Dane lingered under the tent-gazebo in the middle of the courtyard. Laying there and doing nothing wasn't appealing to him. He'd brought his laptop out with him, and in the shade of the little tent he cruised around for something to engage his brain while the other two got their little shot of sun and social time.

"Did you see the couple in the lounge?" Jeff whispered to Kevin, who was laying opposite him.

"No, I didn't..."

"Very cute. And from Reston, I understand."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, just arrived from the RSVP cruise last night."

"Hmmmm..."

"Little dip in the pool, then sunscreen?"

"Let's."

Splash.

Splash.

>

RoyBoi68: hey
Dane22204: hi
RoyBoi68: hows fla?
Dane22204: very nice
RoyBoi68: sunny?
Dane22204: today is, but it wasnt yesterday
RoyBoi68: thats good
Dane22204: how is it back in DC?
RoyBoi68: cold. wish i had gone with you guys
Dane22204: i suppose you'd be with the two naked boys laying by the pool right now
RoyBoi68: who?
Dane22204: two guesses
RoyBoi68: LOL i guess you arent one of them...
Dane22204: bingo
RoyBoi68: and kevin is laying face up and jeff is ass-up...
Dane22204: you win the bonus prize...
RoyBoi68: LOL! they never change..
Dane22204: exactly :-)
RoyBoi68: its why we love them.
RoyBoi68: i bet sean will be upset he missed out on the nakedness
Dane22204: eh, summer will be here again soon enough
RoyBoi68: yes, but no heather house :(
Dane22204: actually, sean is in on a new house that might be even better
Dane22204: from what i heard
RoyBoi68: REALLY?
Dane22204: yes - you should ask him or kevin, they were talking about it
RoyBoi68: god, i will...hard not to think about summer right now
Dane22204: we might do a few weekends out there again, we'll see
RoyBoi68: i hope i can, too.

Roy looked out the window of his office, out over the dreary Sunday landscape across the Potomac.

Kevin's latest CD was playing on his PC. He was thinking about the drives out to Rehoboth the previous summer. Sometimes in Matt's car. Sometimes with Kevin and Dane. Once with Ran.

But the best one was the drive by himself, late in August. A week before Sundance. The weather was perfect, and he'd rented a convertible. The drive out on Friday afternoon was a joy, as he'd spotted all the rainbow flag or HRC bumper stickers dotting the highway. All heading east. All happy and smiling and wearing sunglasses. Some looking for a little trouble, it seemed, along the way.

And the long drive back on Sunday, the sun setting in front of him the whole way. Those eternally long sunsets in August. The smell of pina colada sunscreen in the air around him still, mixed with chlorine and salt spray. Listening to a chill compilation. Feeling utter peace inside. I have such a wonderful life, he'd say to himself. He'd even choke up on occasion, perhaps at a lyric or a little but of music playing.

This isn't some sort of seasonal thing, though, he thought to himself. I'm not depressed. I just miss having fun.

He clicked back onto the window where he'd been writing an email to Ben and Frederic. He'd run out of things to say in the third line.

He couldn't, of course, pour out his feelings of longing for the both of them. The hundred different ways he thought about them both in the past month and a half. It was all starting to sound so childish in his head as he tried to put it to words.

Dane22204: so are you taking the french classes too?

Roy cocked his head slightly.

RoyBoi68: french classes?
Dane22204: yes, at the alliance francaise...kevin and sean signed up
Dane22204: lulu too
Dane22204: im taking the intermediate class
RoyBoi68: wow, no i didnt hear about it
Dane22204: i doubt there is space left but you should find out

He immediately thought about a cold and dreary Sunday afternoon...but in Paris. Like the one he spent in Ben and Frederic's bed after that wonderful, hot bath.

How Paris looked all the more beautiful on a rainy day.

<

Dane leaned over and blocked the sun in front of Kevin's face.

"Hey boys."

"Hi sweetie." (Kevin pulled out his earphones.)

"Are you gonna join us?" (Jeff)

"Naah, I'm going to get some coffee."

"Oh, come on..." (Kevin)

"Listen, do you know if your 101 class at the Alliance Française is full yet?"

"Um...actually I think it is. Why?"

"Well, I was just chatting with Roy online and he was interested in taking it with you guys, I think."

"Hmm. Well..." he sat up "...he can still waitlist I think. I don't know the rules....Pass me that sunscreen over there?"

"Can you do me a favor then? Can you find out and let me know so I can pass it on to Roy?"

"Sure, I'll check online tonight when I get home...." he rubbed a little on his arms, and turned to Jeff "Olive oil, sweetie..."

"Olive oil, darling."

"Okay, I'll leave you two and the sun to enjoy each other."

All at once, the thundering sound of every electrical system in the place grinding to a halt echoed through the courtyard. The music. The pool system. The water heaters. Everything -- just went klunk.

And then it was quiet.

Jeff and Kevin sat up again.

"What was that?" (Jeff)

"Sounded like a power failure." (one half of the "cute couple" from Reston, who were now also poolside)

"I should move along before the riots ensue. I need caffeine." (Dane)

"Okay honey, be careful." (Kevin)

There was a smattering of conversation around the pool, until the manager on duty came flouncing out of the lounge with a big, hospitality-industry smile.

"Cocktails anyone?"

"Over here!" (everyone)

 

[Posted: February 12, 2005] FEEDBACK PERMALINK

 

Ill Winds

FRIDAY:
Ken was on the treadmill at Results when his cell started to flash. He took out his headphones and picked it up.

It was Marcus.

"Hello?"

Click.

He pulled up Marcus' number and hit send. It picked up right away.

"Hey, this is Marcus. Can't take your call right now so please leave your number..."

Ken hung up, and looked at the display.

It was 9:50 a.m.

Must have misdialed, Ken thought. He put his earphone back in and finished his run.

*****

Flashback Boy: hey
DCBoynxtdr: hey baby whats up
Flashback Boy: not much, hows your morning
DCBoynxtdr: hectic im afraid. a lot of things to do b4 i leave on monday
Flashback Boy: where to this time?
DCBoynxtdr: mexico -- big press event
Flashback Boy: how long?
DCBoynxtdr: till thursday
Flashback Boy: cool...wait, what about VD?
DCBoynxtdr: we're celebrating tomorrow nite
Flashback Boy: ah good.
DCBoynxtdr: btw did u see this?
Flashback Boy: i was just gonna ask u the same thing
DCBoynxtdr: fuck
Flashback Boy: i know
DCBoynxtdr: like going back in time
Flashback Boy: Don't say that.
DCBoynxtdr: i wish it wasnt true...but it looks like we've really done it this time
Flashback Boy: makes you just want to stop having sex
DCBoynxtdr: i cant take living through the 80s again
Flashback Boy: me neither
DCBoynxtdr: i find it hard to believe that it will be an isolated incident, given what they r willing to say about this one guy
Flashback Boy: i doubt it is
DCBoynxtdr: promise me u will never, ever...
Flashback Boy: dont worry, i wouldnt be unsafe
DCBoynxtdr: i would lose my mind if it happened to you
Flashback Boy: i promise
DCBoynxtdr: i cant tell u how many friends have tested positive in the last year
Flashback Boy: really?
DCBoynxtdr: unfortunately yes. more in the last 2yrs than probably the previous 10
Flashback Boy: damn
DCBoynxtdr: we cant pretend anymore. its here.

*****

SATURDAY:
Roy was standing in line at Whole Foods when he saw Matt and Christopher walking by outside. They stopped to talk to a friend of Christopher's walking by.

2/12 2:35pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
hi lovebirds
look inside!

Roy watched as Matt read the message and then looked through the window to see him wave.

Matt waved back, and he could see him telling Christopher something. Probably that it was Roy inside. They both waved, then Matt began typing.

It was nice to see them together. Roy had heard less and less from Matt recently. Which, in Matt-is-dating-someone-terms meant he was getting happier and happier. Like Kevin said once, Matt's heart had wings. It was something they shared, something Roy could understand.

He picked a flint of crust off his baguette and popped it in his mouth.

2/12 2:37pm
MESSAGE from
Matt
u almost done?

2/12 2:38pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
on the line
from hell..

2/12 2:38pm
MESSAGE from
Matt
home after?

2/12 2:39pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
yeah, gotta
hit the gym
too..

2/12 2:40pm
MESSAGE from
Matt
we'll wait to
say hi

2/12 2:40pm
MESSAGE from
Roy
thats ok, go
ahead if i
take 2 long

*****

Ken turned the corner of 14th and P and saw Matt. He pulled out his phone, almost like a reflex, and bowed his head down as if he was taking a call, and crossed the street.

Which is when he noticed the display.

1 Missed

He flipped it open and checked missed calls. It was Marcus again.

He hit "send" and it picked up again, right away.

"Hey, this is Marcus. Can't take your call right now so please leave your number..."

Ken hung up, and kept his head down as he slipped into the Starbucks.

*****

MONDAY:
Kevin made it to the 1K check-in counter at 3:56 p.m. As usual, behind schedule but not terribly late. It was a quick one - he got his seat, checked his bag, and then turned to walk back from the farthest end of the Dulles terminal to the leftmost security checkpoint entrance.

His head was all over the place. He'd been quiet at dinner on Saturday with Dane, even though they'd had a nice time at New Heights, and had a nice, long night's sleep into Sunday. They puttered around Kevin's apartment, playing with Clancy, watching a movie. Dane spent almost the whole day there it seemed. He wasn't in a hurry to leave. But Kevin was restless Sunday night, by himself.

They'd both lived through the 80s. They'd both buried their share of friends, back when they were both in their early twenties, with many friends closer to the age they were now.

For a change, though, Kevin didn't spend a lot of time talking about something that was nagging him. His usual garrulousness failed him. He didn't know where to begin. And neither did Dane, probably. But he stuck around, too. He was the one usually like this.

The patient is a male in his mid-40s who reported multiple male sex partners and unprotected anal intercourse, often while using crystal methamphetamine (crystal meth)....

Usually full blown AIDS occurs more than ten years after initial infection with HIV.

And as he walked along the check-in counters, all at once Kevin thought about his friends who were HIV-positive and healthy. He wondered, was AIDS coming anyway for them? Was there ever any way of knowing? Would it have come like a thunderbolt someday?

He remembered a running joke on "The Simpsons" about how Lasik eye surgery would cause eyes to explode twenty years later, which is why Ned Flanders was blind in an episode of the future. And the Hibbert family all laughed.

And how he'd just seen an old movie on TiVo that seemed like a museum piece. It had been so long. Way back to his senior year in college.

And this new strain. And Sean. And Matt. He loved them. He couldn't handle it happening to them. It was already too close with the latest news from some people he never thought he'd hear it from. And how many scares others had had -- always involving a bad mistake they would confess in secret. But he'd never be sure if they told the whole story. Not sure what they were really grappling with. He'd had his own scares.

And trying to remind himself that the drug therapies were incredibly powerful, and had changed people's lives. How many people he knew from San Francisco who in '96 and '97 had literally gotten up out of hospice beds and walked home, returned to work, still living today -- and strong as ever.

And Logan Circle, coming alive as it was. How Dupont Circle was in 1987. How there'd be at least one person with sunken cheeks or KS at almost every table at Dupont Italian Kitchen on early Sunday nights.

And he looked around at the faces in the terminal. So many young faces. Cute ones. Guys he'd normally cruise on the labyrinthine security lines, or at passport control on the way back in. All too young to know what it was like back then, when everyone was dying.

Then he saw Dane.

Kevin stood there for a moment, then smiled -- tucking away his feelings for a moment. Trying to figure out what Dane was doing there, standing in the terminal in his green Timberland jacket and no duffel bag.

"Hey you," he said, embracing and kissing him. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to say Happy Valentine's Day in person, and wish you a safe trip."

"What about work? This is a nice surprise..."

"Well, you sounded a little upset before, and I was a short drive away...I got away for a moment. I'll head back.

Kevin smiled -- and it curled into a sigh. In the busy tumult of Dulles Airport, they stood there facing each other for a few moments. And then embraced tightly.

Silence.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"You'd better get going, honey. Don't want to miss your flight."

Kevin looked over Dane's shoulder, ahead at the security line. The metal detectors. The x-ray machines. The wands.

"They all just walked right through there, didn't they?" (Kevin)

"Who did?" (Dane)

"You know, the hijackers."

"I guess they did."

"They just walked right through with box cutters and knives and walked right onto the plane."

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Were we stupid, or just naive?"

Dane ran his hand down Kevin's back.

"I guess just enough of both. But we're gonna be okay."

 

[Posted: February 14, 2005] FEEDBACK PERMALINK

 

When Whirls Collide

Matt smiled the smile of a supremely confident man.

It had already been a banner day for him.

He had just found out that he was getting a much larger tax refund that he had hoped. Earlier that morning, he was informed that he was being promoted - at least, temporarily. He was looking forward to his Valentine's Day dinner later with Christopher, and their Key West/Ft. Lauderdale vacation less than three weeks away.

He was met in the hall outside his office by his assistant, Seth, and they walked together to the weekly staff meeting. Matt couldn't help beaming as he accepted the congratulations of a couple of coworkers, or an occasional handshake or slap on the back.

"Wow, it's the big time for you, huh?" Seth joked. He and Matt were much more collaborators than boss and employee. Matt signed Seth's timesheets, but he relied upon him as an equal.

"Hey, I'm not gonna let them forget the job isn't mine - yet," Matt said. "I need all the transition time I can get. That is, until the reign of terror begins!"

Their conversation segued, as it usually did, to The Simpsons as they entered room 104 and found a pair of empty seats. Matt dropped into one of the more comfortable chairs and surveyed the room of about 50 colleagues. There had been a lot of changes to keep track of since the new boss came on board. As Matt's gaze locked onto a woman across the room, the blood drained from his face.

"Holy shit!"

2/14 5:03pm
MESSAGE from
Matt
u wont believe
who is in my
meeting!

2/14 5:04pm
MESSAGE from
Kevin
who?

2/14 5:04pm
MESSAGE from
Matt
cynthia!

2/14 5:04pm
MESSAGE from
Kevin
holy shit!

"Holy shit, what?" Seth asked.

"I think that's my ex-girlfriend over there!"

Matt hadn't meant to use the word "ex-girlfriend," even if it were true. Seth was not among the handful of Matt's coworkers who knew that he was gay. Sure, Matt had dropped hints - more like, carpet-bombed them. Like the time he had argued vociferously in favor of gay marriage with the straight, and far more conservative, Seth. Or when he professed an unabashed love for showtunes. But it felt like a betrayal to lead people to believe he was something that he wasn't, and giving them glimpses into his straight past, unaccompanied by more context, seemed more than disingenuous.

"You're kidding me!" Seth said.

Matt squinted. "No, it's Cynthia."

His face flushed. He felt the blood pounding as it surged into his head. Was someone turning up the thermostat in here?

Matt hadn't seen Cynthia since they broke up more than three years ago. After having been casual acquaintances for several years, they had run into each other drunk at a party in the spring of 2001. He was wearing a light gray Huge Boss suit and was looking exceptionally hot and Euro. (In retrospect, very, very gay.) She felt up his pecs, he kissed her, and the rest was history.

A tempestuous six-month relationship followed. Matt appreciated that she was a strong, professional woman - the kind that D.C. pops out like Pez. She was attractive enough. In bed, she was a cougar. Matt was glad there was no one he had to explain the welts on his back to, but he did find himself occasionally wondering if she might actually break his cock off. Can they reattach those things?

But in the end, they didn't gel. In truth, Matt decided that it wasn't just his own cock he was worried about, but he was pretty interested in other guys' too. September 11 intervened, and the demands of his job gave him a convenient - if only partially true - reason to end it.

"How long ago? Seth asked.

"Almost four years, but it didn't last too long." Six months (or, as it is known in the gay world, "a century.")

When Matt finally caught Cynthia's eye, she waved. He waved back. But it wasn't a very manly wave, like a mock salute or one of those pistol-shot greetings with the thumb hammering down on the index finger. No, this was a flimsy fluttering of the digits in the air before him like he was playing the piano. The only way it could have been any gayer would be to shriek, "TOODLE-LOO!" as he did it. His face grew redder, and he slunk down slightly.

Some days he wished that he worked in theatre, or at HRC, or at a hair salon. Somewhere he wouldn't have to pick and choose whom he felt comfortable knowing about his sexuality. It was still just a few short years since he began coming out to his family and close friends and he started to live his private life more unafraid than he had ever been before. He moved to Logan Circle. He had almost exclusively gay friends, went to gay bars, ran for local office as an openly gay candidate.

But work was different. Not only was it a very conservative setting, but Matt had done a great job of rationalizing away the need to be more out than he was. It's just my sexuality, he thought. What does work have to do with it?

He thought about the dreams that still reoccurred. The ones where his coworkers at previous jobs had found out about him, where people he had previously laughed and joked with were now consigned to awkward silences, where whisper campaigns sabotaged his career prospects. He thought about the times when he trying to find his way to a sexual identity he was happy with, and the women he didn't tell during those struggles, and the confrontations he still hoped to avoid.

*****

Matt and Seth slowly made their way to the door. Matt's mind was swimming. He was mostly oblivious to the handshakes and congratulations he was still getting. Then he realized how awkward it would be if he continued walking out the door.

"I'd better say hi to Cynthia," Matt said, turning on his heel.

"OK," Seth said, going on alone.

Cynthia was talking with a couple of people from her new office as Matt approached. Why is her fucking top so low-cut? he wondered, his eyes venturing quickly downward. It's almost like someone is trying to test me!

He pulled out his game face and put it on when nobody was looking.

"Heeey!" he said, smiling broadly. "I didn't know you worked here!" She extended a hand toward him and he leaned in to kiss her cheek. She aborted the handshake and embraced him briefly.

"She just started for us today in congressional relations," her boss said. "You two apparently know each other?"

Matt froze. The word "ex-girlfriend" still seemed to be hanging in the air. Matt gave Cynthia a mild look of panic. The word perched again on his lips. As Matt struggled madly to shove it back into his mouth, Cynthia rescued him.

"Yeah, from the Hill," she said.

Thank you.

"So what do you do now?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm in communications. I'm up in 410," Matt said. And I'm gay. Gaaaaay!

"Ah, well, I'm in the other building. I'll have to come say hi sometime."

"That would be great," he said.

Gaaaaay!!!

Matt went back to his office and stared at the picture of Christopher on his PC desktop. It was just the two of them there, all alone. Christopher was in a tight, white T-shirt on a boat. His skin was golden brown, his blonde hair stuffed under a baseball cap, the sexiest stubble imaginable adorning his cheeks. His eyes were closed as he soaked in the rays of the sun. But what was he thinking?

In less than three weeks, they would both be under that sun, together. No phone calls from work, no faxes, no Blackberries. Just Christopher and him, far from the worries, the lousy weather and that buttoned-down town. Far away from the prudes, the freaks, and the drama queens. Everything receding slowly toward the horizon, an ever-expanding, glimmering ocean in between.

Matt knew the picture was taken not far from where they would soon be in Florida, but he wasn't sure how far. He picked up his cell phone and dialed.

"Baby? Happy Valentine's Day. I can't wait to see you tonight …"

[Posted: February 15, 2005] FEEDBACK PERMALINK

 

Exposed

Matt was coming up on mile two when he looked away from the TV set and saw Ken whizzing up the staircase, up to the third floor of Results.

He reflexively pulled out one of his i-Pod earphones, but to no avail. Ken was gone in a flash.

Ken had been a blur lately. Since the night of Shake It. Nobody had seen much of him. (Matt wasn't a partisan in these matters, but if a vote had been taken among the group, it was a safe bet that most of them would not want to see much of Ken after that night.)

*****

Roy ran across 16th Street to catch the light. When he hopped onto the curb, he heard his cell phone drop out of his pocket and onto the pavement. As usual, the battery flew off the back.

Fuck.

He scooped the two pieces up and put them back together hastily as he jogged down U Street to Results. He would only have a half hour at best to get in a workout before he had to meet Kevin and Sean at Thai Tanic, and he'd have to shower there.

Looked like it would just be an arms-and-chest night.

*****

Flashback Boy: hola
DCBoynxtdr: hiya - just get home?
Flashback Boy: yep just back from the gym
DCBoynxtdr: kool kool..DONT LAY DOWN!
Flashback Boy: lol i wont
DCBoynxtdr: its 7pm so u r in the danger zone
Flashback Boy: i will remain vertical
DCBoynxtdr: hey remind me again...r u away this weekend?
Flashback Boy: leaving saturday, why?
DCBoynxtdr: thats right, the dell dude play in nyc..
Flashback Boy: yup
DCBoynxtdr: damn...well, there is a buzz about sat nite
Flashback Boy: oh really?
DCBoynxtdr: brace yourself
Flashback Boy: !!
DCBoynxtdr: we might be going to nation...
Flashback Boy: wow really? how long has it been now?
DCBoynxtdr: years, easily..there's a mardis gras party
Flashback Boy: aww cant you guys wait till next weekend??
DCBoynxtdr: but this is the holiday. everyone is wanting to do something different
Flashback Boy: and nation is pretty different..
DCBoynxtdr: it is.
Flashback Boy: well grope lots of hotties for me
DCBoynxtdr: we'll see...
Flashback Boy: who is all of "we"?
DCBoynxtdr: so far: me, david, ran n jeff, filip, roy, i think matt and christopher, and chris k, sasha, and maybe some others not sure yet - also invited chuck and dirty, and john
Flashback Boy: wow sounds like fun
DCBoynxtdr: i txtd elaine - not sure if she's coming
Flashback Boy: you wont know till she arrives
DCBoynxtdr: lol exactly
Flashback Boy: but its always wise to be ready for her
DCBoynxtdr: yeah i will be

*****

Ken was on the glutes machine when his phone started to vibrate.

It was Marcus.

"Hello?"

"Ken."

"Yeah? Hey. Marcus?"

"Yeah."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Where are you?"

"At the gym. You been trying to call me lately?"

"Yeah..."

"Been a while. What's been going on?"

"Uh.."

...

"Hello? You still there?" (Ken)

"Yeah, I'm here, man."

Ken stood up and looked vaguely forward. He was facing the windows in the lower body theater on the third floor.

It was 6:19 p.m.

As he listened to Marcus, his face dropped.

He was staring out at the building next door, through the windows. The lights coming on as the sun was nearly gone.

He went white.

And without another moment's pause, he started for the staircase.

"Yeah, I heard you..." (Ken)

He gripped onto the rail as he headed down the stairs. And as he reached the landing, staring forward, Matt caught his eye.

And for a brief moment, they locked eyes. Ken on the phone. Marcus finished with the brief news he had to deliver.

And right there, on the second floor landing, Ken shuddered once, and threw up.

*****

Roy tossed his pants and underwear into the locker and grabbed his shorts out of his bag.

He looked around. Maybe Jack Finney was there.

And right at that moment he saw a new guy walk past, completely naked, on his way to the shower. The guy stopped for a brief moment to look into the mirror over the sinks -- and to look at Roy, who was standing completely naked except for white socks.

They both locked eyes for a split second. Up. Down. Up again.

Then the guy kept going.

And for a brief moment, Roy stood there, wondering if he might just head for the shower instead.

Beep.

2/17 6:24pm
MESSAGE from
Elaine
where r u?
call me asap

 

[Posted: February 19, 2005] FEEDBACK PERMALINK

 

Safe

It didn't normally take any of them very long to recover from a night out.

Not even a night out at Nation - something none of them had done in a long time. But for some reason, Sunday stretched into Monday, and by the final hours of Presidents' Day weekend, many of them were barely getting back on their feet.

David was quite the athelete this particular weekend. He'd hit a party, then stayed with Kevin and Sasha at Nation on Saturday night until 5:30am and even lingered with Kevin for a few minutes outside SundayMass, the uber-afterparty event where it was rumored that crystal meth literally scattered itself on the breezes like spring cotton in the fields. (They lingered for all of 90 seconds on the sidewalk before they got into a cab and went home, too repelled by the level of tolerance they'd have to maintain.)

David was back out Sunday night -- Taint, then Lizard Lounge. A two-fer club night. Chuck, Dirty and Sean hit Halo, as did much of the neighborhood, but skipped the clubs. Others clearly had saved up everything for Sunday night. Kevin didn't get past his front hall on Sunday except to walk Clancy. Throughout the weekend, Matt socialized -- lightly, for him. He still went out both nights.

But on Monday night, as Kevin, Sean and Lulu took their seats at their first French beginners class at the Alliance Française, waiting for the teacher to arrive, Sean turned to Kevin, noticing the one empty chair left.

"Did you see Roy at all this weekend?" (Sean)

"Actually, no I didn't. And I didn't hear from him either....In fact, I was wondering why he and Elaine didn't appear at Nation. It seemed like a tailor-made evening for them to drop in on us."

"I didn't see him online at all either. He was really weird at dinner the other night and now he's, like, gone." (Sean)

"Is he out of town?" (Lulu)

"He couldn't be." (Kevin, picking up his phone.)

"Everyone seems to be missing in action today," Sean said.

2/21 7:56pm
MESSAGE from
Kevin
Ou est Le Roi?

*****

Matt was rooting around on his desktop for stray documents he'd downloaded for work when the AIM sound of a door opening pierced the silence. (I have to remember to lower the volume on this speaker, he thought again.)

Elaine's screen name popped into his buddy list.

He clicked on it, but before he could finish typing a greeting:

(LaineyB4U)

*****

Roy sat on the floor facing the television.

He wasn't really watching the screen, paying closer attention to the sandwich on the plate in front of him on the coffee table. He looked at the surface of the bread and wondered how long it would take before he could actually notice it turning stale. The fluffy tendrils of bread growing more alkaline and crumbly, the moist pores growing dry and uninviting. How long, he wondered, does it take for a sandwich to die?

Elaine came out of the bedroom and walked up to the couch.

"Are you going to eat it?" (Elaine)

He looked down again. "I don't think so."

"Okay." (She picked it up and looked it over, finally taking a small bite.) "It's good, just in case you change your mind. I'll just have a piece."

"It's all right. Was Kevin online?"

"No, I didn't see any of them. They went to the course."

Short silence. The television was ignored by both of them.

"So can you get your money back on the French classes?" (Elaine)

"Um....no. But..."

Short silence.

"I think I'll go Wednesday. I'll just say I got stuck at work or something."

Elaine put the sandwich back down as she slid onto the couch and pulled her legs up underneath her, away from Roy.

More silence.

"So you used condoms right?" (Elaine)

Roy just stared out for a second, then nodded.

"Yeah, we did. Or he did...."

He figdeted a bit, then turned around to face her.

"...But we did it for a long time. And it was kind of, I don't know. Rough."

Elaine didn't look straight at him.

"He was pretty rough for the second half of it, and it sort of hurt after a while..."

Silence.

"...And I remember looking at the wall at one point and wondering what the hell I was doing there with him. Like, not even looking at his body moving, or whatever, was the least bit interesting anymore."

Then there was a really long silence. Each of them interpreted very differently. Elaine was counting the seconds, keeping her mouth shut, just listening. Something she wasn't very used to doing.

Roy cocked his head, looking at her, thinking she was about to say something the whole time but was holding back. So he ventured a sotto voce question.

"What about you?"

She looked up. "What about what?"

"Did you...?"

She mixed up her face.

"Did I what?"

...

"Roy, I didn't sleep with Jack Finney." (Elaine)

"OK, I was just --" (Roy)

"--Please, Roy. I don't sleep with gay guys, okay?" Her voice suddenly started to rise. "I mean, what the fuck? You think I'm one of those women or something, all this time...?"

"NO--no--no..."

"I have friends just like you do, all right? Come on, already...."

"I'm SORRY, I'm sorry --"

"Just drop it."

"Okay."

Heavy silence.

"Okay, so you're the only one who knows about what really happened in Paris. I didn't even tell Ben and Frederic. The whole thing was such an embarassment. And now, even more so." (Roy)

"I'm not going to say anything. I never talk about anything."

"I know."

"Just forget about it, honestly."

"I can't."

"Well, then, go get tested so you can forget about it. The point is, you have to put it behind you."

Elaine pushed her hair behind her ears and suddenly drew an angry look around her eyes, speaking rapidly.

"I'll go, I'll go --" (Roy)

"...Because I'm not gonna be able to cope with weeks on end of you making this into the grandest of all your obsessions, okay? I won't be able to take it..."

"All *RIGHT*, I'LL GET TESTED!" (Roy)

"Just please, promise that you'll put...this....behind....you."

(Now he was mad.)

"Hang on a second," Roy said, leaning forward. "I didn't ask for this, okay? I didn't want this problem --"

"I'm not saying you DID! --"

"I will put this behind me so fast you'll get dizzy, okay? I want to forget the whole goddamned thing ever happened! I don't even want to think about Paris, or the drugs or Ben or Frederic or the men or letting myself completely go or ANYTHING, okay? I just want to get back to normal life and get this the fuck behind me!"

Then Elaine really bit hard down on the inside of her cheek. She felt a litany of things about to fly out of her mouth that, thanks to her prodigious ability to stop herself dead in her own tracks, she managed to avoid.

Just hold it together, she said to herself. This is going off the rails.

Just under the surface, she felt months of anxiety and frustrations just boiling like lava. She took a good look at the bookcases and walls and rugs in Roy's apartment, taking in all the strangeness of it to remind herself she wasn't home. She wasn't anywhere near her space, or her own cresting waves of emotion, regret, anger -- about how nobody seemed to know how to hold it together anymore. This wasn't about her.

And Roy felt a sudden pin prick inside, winding back his own angry outburst a few lines, and lumping Ben and Frederic together with Jack Finney. And how ... distasteful that was to do. How easy it always was to just wipe a very big brush across everything and retreat back into old ways of thinking. To disavow everything he'd done with a smile and a light feeling inside. To have it wiped off like a five year-old getting slapped hard across the face. How easy it was.

But how hurtful to that cherubic look in Ben's eye. How wrong to do to someone as brave and soft as Frederic.

How beautiful Jack Finney was on the floor of the club.

How nice it was to talk with Kevin the first night, as they walked and laughed and talked about their friendship.

And the feeling of Jack ramming into him over and over for over an hour without stopping, and his left leg cramping up in agony.

And it all ground and churned together as he felt his pulse quickening in his neck, and the feeling of millions of little viruses running through capillaries and arteries underneath his skin and all over his body.

*****

Matt was closing the blinds on his front window, facing N Street, when his eye caught a glimpse of someone stumbling on the sidewalk across the way. At first, he thought it was another bum gravitating around the BP Station.

Then he could see it was Ken.

He seemed mobile enough. Just drunk. Like he probably was at the gym the previous Thursday when he tossed his dinner all over the place.

Matt also remembered David mentioning that he'd seen Ken at Taint on Sunday, briefly. And that he was tanked.

Weaving back and forth very widely, but staying on the sidewalk, Ken headed into the Mondrian, fumbled with his keys for a moment, and got all the way into the lobby.

"I guess he's safe," Matt said to himself.

 

[Posted: February 23, 2005] FEEDBACK PERMALINK