Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 04:10:15 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: half-past-sunset,-an-hour-before-dawn-9

All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. This is a work of
fiction containing explicit sex and graphic language. If you are offended
by such, underage, or live in a state or territory where literature of this
nature is unlawful, please exit now and read no farther....R.C.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                   "HALF PAST SUNSET, AN HOUR BEFORE DAWN"

                                       by

                                Ritch Christopher


                       - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


                                  Chapter Nine


	I arrived at Del's apartment at 7:00 PM in plenty of time for Del,
Eric, and me to pick up Carla, Charlene, and Johnny by 8:00 PM. Del met me
at the door, and knowing that I did not drink, he had fixed me an
assortment of fruit drinks with seltzer to choose from. He and Eric, on the
other hand, had already downed half a pitcher of margueritas before I got
there. Both of them had a slight buzz on, but not enough to be tipsy. It
was quite obvious to someone who had just joined their company that there
was a definite tension between the two brothers. Either they had had an
argument earlier, or they were just about to get involved in one. The room
was filled with the kind of electricity you encounter when you try to
connect two anodes together. The sparks were about to fly due to opposite
polarization. I assumed Carla had caused this friction somehow, even though
neither of them had seen her since the night before.

	Eric was dressed in a nutmeg silk suit with matching shirt...no
tie. Del had donned similar attire in dark blue, straight from the Versace
Fall line.  My outfit looked like the best that The Gap had to offer, but I
was in solid black...black slacks, shirt, and a black jacket that didn't
exactly match the pants material. Again, I felt inferior but I presumed
where we were going would be darkly lit, so it wouldn't matter that much.

	Eric was the first to invite me to join their conversation. Since I
didn't known what had been foresaid, I was reluctant at first until I felt
the gist of the mood.

	"Chris," Eric began, "not that it really matters, but what is your
opinion of my going out with Carla tonight. Del seems to have some
reservations about my proposed date."

	"I'm not here to take sides, Eric, but the way I look at it, you're
over twenty-one, you're in New York...away from home, and there's no one
here to judge you or mar your reputation." I said, knowing I had just
plucked a nerve of Del's.

	"Exactly! Thank you, Chris. Tis a pity my brother and you don't see
eye-to-eye."

	"Eric, I told you that I don't disparage you about your
infidelity," Del said, "Hell, if I were married to your wife, I'd've
stepped out on her long before this. I wouldn't question your choice of a
date, if she were one-hundred percent genuine female!" Del blurted out.

	"I would be willing to bet that Carla knows more about pleasing a
man than any woman you or I have ever known." Eric retorted.

	"I can't speak from experience as I've never been to bed with a
real woman." Del said.

	"Jesus! Not once?" Eric asked.

	"Not once." Del said, downing his marguerita.

	"Chris, you're a schoolteacher with a college degree or two, I
would imagine. Can you venture an educated guess why two brothers, raised
together like twins, can grow up with completely opposite sexual
preferences?" Eric asked, putting me on the spot, as he seemed to have a
habit of doing.

	"I'm afraid there's not just one answer to that, Eric. For
centuries, everyone has believed it was a matter of sexual preference, as
you said, but the latest theory says that we don't choose to prefer one
over the other. It's in-born. It's like two kids growing up side by side;
one likes liver and spinach while it makes the other brother sick. If you
don't mind my being forward, I don't see there's too much difference in you
two tonight. I mean when you get right down to it, you're both going out
with males. They're just wrapped in different packages, but once you take
off the ribbon and pretty picture and open up the box, you're gonna find
the same surprise."

	"Chris is right, Eric, no matter how much you try to pretend or
fool yourself, you're in for a night of dick...not pussy...not cunt...but
good old-fashioned rock solid cock!" Del was getting high-strung
again."Tell me, bro, did you eat out Carla's cunt or did you suck her
dick?"

	"Neither!" Eric replied.

	"Well, you're in for the surprise of your life tonight, if you take
her to bed. No matter how many numbers of Chanel she sprays on it, it still
gonna look like a cock...not a cunt!!"

	"Goddamn, Del! Why are you on such a high horse? I'm not being
unfaithful to you. It's not like you and I were gay lovers or anything!"

	"No, I'm just thinking about the times I wanted you and wanted to
have sex with you when we were in our teens...BUT NO!!...You preferred
going down to the Sorin's farm and getting all hot and bothered while you
fingered Susan Sorin's pussy. Then you would come home horny as a toad and
I was there in bed, waiting to satisfy you any way that I could or in any
manner you wished to get off...and you'd refuse by saying. 'NO! Bro, I've
changed! What we did was kid stuff. I've outgrown that now. I want the real
thing...I like vaginas now!'"

	"Del, I think you'd better go a bit slower on that tequila. You're
embarrassing yourself now, in front of Chris. I think you're gonna be sorry
tomorrow when you realize the things you just said."

	Eric was right. Del was revealing things I'd rather not have
heard. It was too conspicuous for me to ask to be excused to go pee, but I
didn't want to be where I was at the moment.

	"Del," Eric continued, "just for tonight, will you be genteel and
let me have a little fun. I'm asking you to please not insult Carla, no
matter how you might feel about her. Can't the six of us just go out and
have a good time?"

	"I'm sorry, Eric," Del said, after a moment. "I don't know why I'm
acting like such a horse's ass. It's your first trip anywhere and I seem to
be ruining it for you."

	I interrupted by saying, "God, I'm so glad you said that. Would it
be all right if I go pee now? I've been sitting here pushing my bladder
down so it wouldn't look like I was trying to get away from a hostile
situation."

	"You didn't have a brother, did you?" Eric asked me.

	"No."

	"If you had, you'd know that all this "carrying on" between Del and
me was nothing more than brother talk. Neither of us was angry. It's just
in the Swedish blood, we all try to talk at the same time and to make sure
everyone hears us, we just talk louder and stronger."

	"Whew! Thank God," I said, "I was worried I was going to have to
listen to this banter all evening, not to mention that it could be
compounded by Charlene's choice remarks."

	"Put your fucking Xanax away and go pee." Del said, laughing.

	No matter what the two of them had said to convince me otherwise, I
was NOT looking forward to this evening. I went into the bathroom to
relieve myself and suddenly a thought occurred to me. Suppose I had the
great virus, are there any precautions I should take in using someone
else's bathroom? What if I were to splash unseen urine on the toilet seat
or lid, wasn't this a body fluid? Damn! There were so many rules that
didn't used to be rules but WERE rules now.

	For over ten years, gays were told that the only way to get
infected was by tainted blood transfusions or anal and vaginal sex. Go
ahead and give blow jobs to your heart's content...it was safe to have oral
sex. Then suddenly, midstream, they put the quietus on that! We were told
that if we had a sore in our mouth and the person whom you were giving head
to was infected, you could get infected, too. Then they narrowed it even
further.  We were told that if you had tiny abrasions on your gums, caused
by your toothbrush, you were equally endangered. Next, it wasn't only
semen, it also included preseminal fluid. It also worked in reverse. I was
told that if I had the virus, the person I was going down on could get it
because the glans was porous like a sponge...it could absorb the saliva
which was also a transmitter. That also meant French kissing was now
taboo. A report was released by some medical research lab stating that the
virus had been found in tiny traces of perspiration. There's always been an
argument whether mosquitos could carry the germ...some say 'yes', some
'no'. I used to think the only safe sex would be to totally wrap yourself
in Saran Wrap from head to toe or have you and your partner get into
adjoining glass booths and watch each other jerk off. All these theories
existed before I received my letter from the HD, but now they all flashed
before my eyes like a huge warning signal. Shit, it's not even safe for two
kids to mutually masturbate anymore, if one of them has a cut on his
finger!! The best bet? Total abstinence! But then why was there such a huge
percentage of HIV cases among priests and monks? Somebody's cheating! Well,
now that I had completely talked myself into a state of anxiety and
depression, I took a wet cloth and wiped the toilet, flushed it, and
returned to join Del and Eric for more fun verbal games.

	"What took you so long?" Del asked. "What'd you have to do, jerk
off?"

	"Yeah, that's what I always do in tense situations. I feel much
better now." I joked.

	"Well, is everyone ready to go?" Eric asked.

	"Ready and able," I said, "but I hold off from being willing."

	Would you believe it? They had hired a "stretch" for the entire
evening. Charlene would die and go to heaven!! When we parked outside her
apartment, she came out to the limo and asked, "Is this car just for the
immediate family or do the mourners have to follow when the hearse
arrives?" She had already started. Maybe I should've taken a Xanax. I was
willing to bet that my long run of sobriety would be coming to an end
before the evening was over. I didn't know a kamikaze from a zombie, but I
probably would soon learn the difference.

	Johnny looked as if he and I had bought out clothes at the same
sale. I felt more at ease when I saw his garb. Carla was the epitome of
lady-like loveliness, dressed in a light blue linen sheath with a brocaded
overlay, stretching down to her mid-calf. My dear sweet Charlene had
outdone herself, she looked like a hooker from Catfish Row in a Harlem
amateur production of "Porgy and Bess". Her clothes were expensive, they
just looked terribly cheap, as she wore a red satin skirt split up the left
side to the waist. a black lacy see-through blouse with matching stole,
five inch heels with black fish net stockings. I didn't care if she was one
of my best friends, she looked like a bad caricature of herself. Even
Johnny seemed ashamed or her. Del was still convinced it was a bad idea to
invite her, but Eric, on the other hand seemed to get a big kick out of
her, as though he were giving her enough rope...

	"How are you this evening, ladies?" Eric asked, smiling pleasantly.

	"Fine, thank you," replied Carla.

	"My, you DO have charm," Charlene replied,imitating Belle Wattling
from "GWTW". "Did you say you're from SOUTHERN Wisconsin? You have a little
old plantation for growing milkweed?"

	"Charlene," Johnny interrupted her, "Milk comes from cows. It's not
grown like grass!"

	"I know that, silly! Can't a girl crack a little joke? I was going
to correct myself, Johnny, before I confused you because I know you still
believe that milk comes from jerking off bulls. My! My! Wouldn't that be a
handy dandy job?...Pardon the pun!"

	"Every time we go out together in public, I feel as if I should
carry a supply of earplugs to pass out to people when you start acting like
this," Johnny added.

	"Who's acting, dahling? I won my Oscar and Tony, years ago. I gave
back my Emmy because I didn't want a cunt around the house!"

	"Well, is it still the plan to go to the Hat Box?" Eric asked.

	"Later, Daddy," Charlene said, "Let's check out a few other places
first!"

	"I'm game." Eric said, "Where to first?"

	"I know a great little club called, 'SNAKE IN THE grASS'!" she
replied, "I suppose the chauffeur's name is Jeeves? No, that would be
asking TOO much!"

	Eric laughed, "No, but his name IS Jim. Close enough?"

	"Jim always used to send me pretty flowers...Oh Jim..." Charlene
began to sing. Then she stopped long enough to give Jim directions to the
club.

	Damn, this was a club I'd never heard of, so I didn't know what to
expect or how to prepare myself...or the other members of the party. "SNAKE
IN THE grASS" was on a lower street between East Third and Second. I must
admit I was pleasantly surprised. It was a jazz club with an alto sax
player that could wail all the way to Battery Park. The club was extremely
dark with blue lights on the wall with silhouetted black art deco
figures. Even the lamps on the tiny round tables were blue. A table for six
was only eighteen inches in diameter. What appeared to be a dump from the
exterior, proved to be extremely nice inside. It was so damned dark I
couldn't really tell if the place was gay, straight, or both. Knowing
Charlene's taste in entertainment, I could only assume it was definitely
gay all the way.

	A very attractive young man came to take our order. Fortunately,
Eric and Del stuck with tequila, their chosen weapon. The 'girls' ordered
champagne, Johnny, a beer, and I had club soda with a twist of lime. This
place looked safe enough for me not to have to resort to potent potables
which I detested. As a kid, I'd seen my father get drunk quite often and
beat my mother to a pulp. Later on, after he died, my mother became a total
"alchy" and drank herself into an early grave. Growing up in this
atmosphere, I'd sworn off drink before I ever began. After we'd ordered,
Charlene and Carla went to the ladies room (I presumed). I couldn't imagine
either of them going to the men's room dressed as they were. Five minutes
later, Charlene returned alone. Carla was not with her.

	"Is everything all right with Carla," Eric asked, concerned.

	"She's fine, dear. I think she wanted to re-glue her falsies or
something." Charlene retorted.

	"Re-glue her falsies?" Del asked, amazed.

	"Eyelashes, darling, eyelashes! Good grief! Don't you ever get
smothered in that closet you live in?" Charlene snapped at Del. "Chris said
you looked divine when he put a pair of them on you."

	"Jesus! Word sure gets around, doesn't it?" Del said, drinking a
huge gulp of tequila.

	"Don't worry, love, your 'fortpolio' is safe with me." She
remarked.

	"Portfolio, Charlene, not 'fortpolio'," Johnny corrected her.

	"Sorry...oh yes, 'fortpolio' is that crippling disease! I get
confused sometimes!"

	"Ditsy's more like it," Johnny retorted.

	Another ten minutes passed and Carla still hadn't returned from the
ladies room. Even I imagined the worse. Had she left Eric and slipped away
unnoticed in the darkness? The seven piece combo was just finishing,
"There's a Boat That's Leaving Soon." The saxophonist took a bow and
grabbed the mike.

	"Ladies and gentlemen," the sax player announced. "we have a
special treat tonight. We have a very special talent here, tonight. I've
known this young lady for a number of years, and believe me when I tell
you, there's no one that can put the 'B' in a blues song the way she
can. So put your hands together and welcome a very special guest, Miss
Carla Sinclair!" There was scattered polite applause all over the club.

	Goddamn! Where was the waiter? I decided maybe I needed a drink
after all. A solo pin spot lite illuminated Carla's head. To be honest, she
looked fantastic! The band started playing a live intro. There was no tape
or recording, so how was she going to pantomime a singer? Carla raised the
mike to her lips and began to sing, "Some day he'll come along, the man I
love..." Her voice was a mixture of Julie London and Judy Garland. This was
no fake! This was the real thing! Carla was actually singing with her real
voice. There was nothing noticeable about her being a male. She was singing
in the female register as Jim Bailey did. Carla wasn't good, she was great!
I became entranced. She was looking in the direction of Eric and he was
sitting there in the dark with ga-ga eyes. Every word she sang was meant
for him. He couldn't have been more thrilled if she had been Streisand. Del
was so much in awe, he stopped drinking and locked his gaze on
her. Charlene had taken her compact out of her purse and pretended to fix
her face except it was so damned dark she couldn't ever see the mirror,
much less, her face in it. Charlene had this look on her face like, "Didn't
you know she could sing? I thought EVERYONE knew that, you dummies!" Johnny
seemed as enthralled as I over Carla's talent.

	Carla finished the chorus and the sax player went back to the
beginning of the song and kept it going for sixteen bars. During this
musical interlude, Carla brought the mike with her to our table and she
stood approximately two feet in front of Eric and picked up the song at the
bridge, "Maybe I will meet him someday..." If I hadn't known better, I
would swear Eric was falling in love with Carla by the way he responded to
her. The song ended by repeating the last four bars which gave Carla a
chance to move close to Eric's mouth with her lips as she slowly sang the
final, "the man...I...love." With that, she eased in and kissed him. The
crowd went wild...clapping, cheering, whistling...She was a hit, in more
ways than one! I was convinced now that every patron in the room was
male...with male dates. They began crying for more.

	Carla appeared to be encouraged, but accepted the kudos as if she
always got them whenever she performed.  She walked back to the band, said
a few words to the leader, turned quickly and belted a medium tempo version
of "Sing, You Sinners".  This brought the gay crowd to its feet. They began
clapping, keeping time with the beat, which prompted Carla to segue into
"Clap Yo Hands!". Damn! I didn't want to go anywhere else for the rest of
the evening. I wanted to stay and listen to Carla all night, if possible. I
sat there wishing I had a tape recorder. I would love to have a CD called,
"Carla at the Snake". I could play it all night long. Hell, I'd never dated
a tranny before, but after Eric went back to Wisconsin, I might be
tempted. I wouldn't want her to have sex with, I'd pay her just to sing to
me in bed.

	Carla sang a thirty minute set before the crowd would let her
return back to the table with us. I kept an eye peeled on Del to see if his
emotions changed during the performance. Halfway through "The Way We Were",
I grabbed Del's hand to hold. Two or three times I squeezed his hand to
prompt a response from him, but he almost seemed annoyed that I was holding
his hand. Carla was doing a number for Eric, but she was doing a different
kind of number on Del. Del appeared to be getting angry with jealousy. I
wondered if he had stronger feelings for his brother than anyone realized,
including himself.

	"I guess you guys didn't know that Carla could sing as well as I."
Charlene said.

	"Shit, Charlene," Johnny said, cutting her off, "give the girl some
credit. If she sang like you do, the whole place would've emptied out with
everyone thinking someone had set off an air-raid siren."

	"Did you like me?" Carla asked Eric.

	"Little girl, you were wonderful!" Eric replied.

	"I think I'm gonna be sick!" Del said, "I need some air." He got
out and stumbled through the dark room toward the door.

	"I'd better go with him to make sure he's all right." I said,
following him.

	The night air had turned brisk and cooler.

	"You got a cigarette?" Del asked, once we were outside.

	"Sure." I said, offering him a Marlboro. "What's wrong, babe? Why
are you so upset?"

	"Do you believe the way Eric is behaving? Did you hear what he said
just now, calling Carla, 'Little Girl'?"

	"Oh, come on, Del, let Eric have his fun! He's only going to be in
New York a few days. He deserves to have a good time if Francine treats him
as badly as you say."

	"But Eric is straight!" Del said, with his voice quivering.

	"So what?  Maybe he wants to cross back over the river."

	"You don't understand, Chris. When Eric and I were growing up, I
loved him more than anyone else in the world. I never dated. I saved myself
for him. I never made any demands but I swear, I would've taken a spoon and
eaten the shit out of his ass if he had asked me! But he didn't. He outgrew
me when we became seniors in high school. He no longer wanted me, or male
sex at all. He was all I had. There were no other guys in my
life...certainly no girls!"

	"Yeah, Del, but you two were brothers, not lovers. Did you think
you could spend the rest of your life with him?"

	"I would've, if he had let me."

	"Damn, I've been trying to walk a thin narrow line being faithful
to you. I never dreamed that my chief competition in our arrangement would
be your own brother!"

	"I guess it sounds sick to you." he said.

	"No, it sounds strange. It's difficult for me to understand,
primarily because I was an only child. I never had a brother to do things
with. Believe me, I'm trying to rationalize how you feel. Do you think he
has any idea about the way you feel?"

	"God, no! I wanted to tell him years ago, but I thought the idea
might repulse him, in spite of all the sex we had when we were kids."

	"One thing is becoming abundantly clear to me."

	"What's that?"

	"I know that I could never be a substitute for him, even if he left
tomorrow. Your feelings for him are too deep. I don't stand a chance."

	"I'm sorry, Chris, I think things would've worked out between us
eventually...only if that son-of-a-bitch hadn't come to New York and fallen
for a goddamned transvestite!"

	"Jesus, Del, if you both had stayed in Wisconsin, you would've had
Francine or some other female to contend with. Maybe you ought to be
grateful to Carla for opening up his feelings. I don't know how much you
know about what happened between them last night. I don't know what all he
told you this afternoon... I don't want to hurt your feelings, but Charlene
filled me in on a few things that Carla told her...and...Carla played the
male role in their sex last night."

	"What do you mean?"

	"I know this is gonna make you mad as hell at me...and
Charlene...AND Carla, but Eric performed oral sex on Carla...then he asked
her to fuck him!"

	"You're lying!!!" Del said, shooting daggers from his eyes at me.

	"You're new to the gay scene, Del. You think just because a guy
dresses up like a woman, he plays the same role in the bedroom...But that's
not so! That's why I don't date trannies. Most of them are tops. I'm a top
usually and there's something in my male genes that keeps me from being
fucked in the ass by someone who looks and acts like a woman! Take away the
glamour and glitter and they're very 'butch' when they're naked."

	"Goddamn! I guess I have a lot to learn." Del said with an amazed
look on his face. "What am I suppose to do...go to Fifth Avenue and have a
complete makeover and assume the role you dressed me in the other day?"

	"No, you're not a transvestite, although you were beautiful. Did
you notice the way Eric looked at you? He wasn't shocked. If anything, he
was delightfully surprised. Who knows what he was thinking? You two look so
much alike, he might have been envisioning himself dressed up the way you
were."

	"Dammit, Del! You're fucking with my mind!"

	"I don't mean to. I'm just trying to let you see some logic as to
why Eric was so attracted to Carla." I said.

	"Shit! The next thing you're gonna tell me is that Eric's wife,
Francine, is a transvestite!"

	"Wouldn't that be a kick in the head?" I joked.

	"It's just that all the 'trannies', as you call them, that I've
ever seen were all like Charlene. Charlene's an imposter and looks like it,
but Carla has all the femininity and beauty of a McCall's cover girl. She'd
fool the CIA, the FBI, or the PTA. She could go back to Wisconsin and live
with Eric the rest of their lives and no one would ever know the
difference...but that male sex role you spoke about...it just doesn't fit
in Eric's profile."

	"Maybe she's the combination of what he wants. Maybe he's never
been able to satisfy Francine because he always wanted someone to satisfy
him the way you did."

	"What you said makes a little sense. You almost convince me, but
not totally."

	"I'm not sure if what I said is true, it's just a theory, and all
theories require investigation before we prove them to be true or false."

	"You're always the schoolteacher, aren't you?"

	"Nope. That's why I've lived for seven years in my twilight
world. I teach during the day...shape and mold young lives, trying to keep
them growing up without making mistakes. But once school is over, in the
hours between half past sunset and an hour before dawn, I assume an
opposite identity. Sometimes I feel I'm worse than Dr. Jekyll and
Mr. Hyde. Thank God, I don't drink or do drugs or else I might get my two
worlds mixed up. Then I would get arrested and lose my job because I'd
become a pedophile, sucking little boys in the school bathroom, and then at
night, I'd be teaching my tricks the geographical way of going round the
world."

	"That's funny." Del said, smiling.

	"I'm glad I thought of SOMETHING to say to get you out of your bad
mood."

	"What should I do, Chris?"

	"I don't know; these are the hours I don't teach."

	"You think it's stupid that I feel as I do about Eric, don't you?"

	"I don't think it's stupid...but I don't think it's healthy. I know
for certain that I'm not the one in your life, but I don't think your
brother is either. You're attractive in every way...looks, charm, manners,
wealth... There's not a gay guy I've ever met that wouldn't be turned on by
you. You could walk into a stadium and pick out any guy in the world that
you wanted. If I could give you advice, that's what I would tell you to
do. New York is a free city with free souls and lonely guys who would fall
for you in a minute. Shop around. Don't settle until you find THE one. He's
out there...but I don't believe he's in Wisconsin." I said. trying to be
friendly and not sounding as a lecturer.

	"Should I tell Eric the way I feel?"

	"That's up to you. But remember, you not only have your personal
life to think about, there are many dairy farmers who have trusted you with
their lives as well as their families' welfare.  If you do anything to rock
the boat, it won't just be your life that you're ruining. Suppose Eric felt
as you do and you two decided to continue your pubescent relationship, that
would mean, you'd move back to Wisconsin and be afraid of every move you or
Eric made for fear you'd be found out. Or Eric would move to New York to be
with you and then you'd have no one you could trust to run the business
back home. You have a lot at stake. It's a mighty big risk, but, fuck, who
am I to give advice about life, love, and relationships? Yours and mine
sure plunged down to the deep six. I won't go out with the same guy twice
in a row. So, IF the two of you think you can find a way to make a 'go' of
it...then, go to it! Life's too goddamned short to live it unhappily."

	"I wish it had been you. When I listen to you talk, I envy your
students and I feel guilty because I didn't fall in love with you. You're
so goddamned wonderful and easy to love. You know, I loved you fifteen
minutes after we met at the jazz club. So where did we go wrong?"

	"I think the answer lies between Beekman Place and Hell's kitchen."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Money, asshole! You got it and I don't. What's more, you WANT it
and I don't. I like to climb stairs to get to my apartment. I like to hunt
for the lightswitch even though I've been using it for seven years. I like
to step out of my trousers at night and leave them piled on the floor until
I need them again. I like toast that burns only on one side because the
toaster is broken. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"

	"Del, that's the way I was raised. We were poor, This wealth I have
now is new to me."

	"Yes, but you've gotten used to it now. You couldn't go back
now. You need your remote controls, sliding furniture and artificial
rainfalls now. You've tasted the high life and old Tom Wolfe was right, you
CAN'T go home again.  You know the song from "Gigi" in your collection? The
one that says, "Once you've had a little taste of pink champagne...? You
finish it. I've never had pink or any other kind of champagne. I mean that
literally as well as figuratively. Hell, I don't even like beer."

	"Can we still be friends?"

	"The best! If you think you can fit onto my roster with Charlene
and Johnny. They're about the only family and friends I had before I met
you."

	"On second thought..." We both laughed. "What about Johnny? Doesn't
he date?" Del asked.

	"Not much. He's a good friend to everyone he meets. He keeps
Charlene out of trouble. He works hard and accepts whatever life offers
him. Are you interested?"

	"I don't know, but at least it would give me someone new to date or
go to a movie with."

	"You could do a whole lot worse. We're as close as any guy I've
ever known, but I've never gone to bed with him...ever. Not that he isn't
my type, it's just that I want to see him two days in a row as a friend,
not a forgotten face in the night."

	"What do you think Charlene would say if I asked him out after Eric
goes back home?"

	"She'd ask you to get her a Wall Street financier to take her out,
too."

	"That could be arranged..."

	"Why don't you ask him to dance when we go back inside?...Sort of a
new beginning." I said.

	"I just might....only what about you, Chris? What do you see in
your future?"

	I hesitated, wondering whether to encompass him in my fear of the
dreaded letter of doom I'd received from the HD, but I didn't. Jesus, I'd
almost forgotten about it completely! Oh well, if the trip to the HD turned
out to be bad news, I at least wouldn't be put in the position of making
Del a young widower. In my entire life, I'd never met anyone I could "open
up" to and share my lows or even my highs. I'd lived a loner's life and as
I stood there ending whatever arrangement I had or might have had with Del,
I suspected that, maybe, I'd never find that someone to share life with.

	"Immediately I see if we both don't go back to join the others,
we're going to be sharing a room on the pneumonia ward at Bellevue."

	"I feel the cold, now." Del said. "When I first came out here, I
was so angry, my blood was boiling. but now that I'm more settled...you're
right! I'm freezing my ass out here."

	"Don't let that get around in small circles, people'll think you
meant to say you're frigid!" I joked.

	We went back into the club and felt our way in the blackness until
we found our table. Johnny was sitting there alone. Eric and Carla were
dancing on the parquet floor. Only God knew where Charlene was or whom she
was with and doing what! When I saw that Del had a chance to sit and talk
with Johnny while no one else was around, I lied and told them I had to
make a quick run to the men's room. As I walked away with just the two of
them sitting there conversing, I was sorta pleased with the matchmaking I'd
just done. Del and Johnny didn't have that much in common, but since I knew
them both, they might just share a sweet beginning together. Now all I had
to do was stand by the urinal in the restroom and wait for my "Mr. Right."
I laughed because I remembered that's where I'd met Del, only we were both
sitting in booths.

	I could spend only so much time peeing and I saw no one in the john
that interested me. It was too early to return to the table as I wanted to
give Del the chance to get better acquainted with Johnny, so I came
out. fumbling in the dark until I made my way to the bar. I was only six
feet away from my destination when I heard the all too familiar cackle of
Charlene's laughter. She was sitting at the bar holding court. There were
at least six or eight guys surrounding her as she spewed forth a multitude
of her witticisms. God, the girl belonged on stage. (Maybe the one headed
toward Dodge). She was talking about the various men in her life. I
wondered how long she'd been reminiscing and how close she was to bringing
the topic of her history to the present? I listened carefully and caught
her in mid-sentence.

	"...and then about two weeks ago," Charlene said, recounting a
recent affair, "I put on this nurse's uniform and went down to the
Salvation Army to hand out doughnuts.  I go to charitable agencies quite
frequently and list them on my income tax return as free donations. Any
way, I met this adorable hunk with holes in his shoes and trousers. I
couldn't take my eyes off his package. My God, I thought it was Christmas
and I wanted to rip off his jeans and tie a huge red bow on his candy cane
and attach a card saying, 'To Charlene from Santa'. My dears, it was not
only as long as a candy cane, it even had a curve on the end of it!" The
guys all laughed while she swigged on her vodka and Southern
Comfort. "Well, somehow we wound up in the bathroom of the infirmary and he
decided he wanted to do me. I really didn't have the heart to refuse him so
he got on his knees and started paying me homage. He really knew how to put
curls in my wig. Then just as I was about to give him my nectar, the
son-of-a-bitch started coughing.  Now I know I'm as well endowed as the
next woman, but I've never had anyone to get choked on me. To make a long
story short, three days later, the Salvation Army turned my name into the
New York Health Department and I got this letter saying someone might have
given me the crabs or something.  So I dressed up like Bette Midler in
"Stella" and went down to the 'H.D.' to find out my fate. The asshole had
had a history of tuberculosis when he was a child and they wanted to stick
this needle under the skin where I wear this conglomeration of bracelets
and gave me a 'time' test, or something like that. I had to go back in
three days to prove I hadn't caught it, but what was so bad, on the first
visit, they made me write down all the names and addresses of anyone I'd
been in contact since he'd attempted to blow me. God-all-mighty! It took me
nearly five hours to complete my list of names. When I was through, I still
wasn't sure that I remembered EVERYBODY. because I had two-hundred-thirty
names written down. That meant that everyone on my list had to be contacted
and all of them would have to go down for this 'time' or 'tine' test.  God!
I only hope none of them ever find out that it was I who gave their names
to the H.D., especially since my test turned out to be negative. 'TB?'
Hell, I didn't even have the crabs!"

	Charlene rattled on, but I had heard everything I needed to
hear. Fucking "TB"? Was THAT why I'd gotten that goddamned letter? I made a
vow to shoot Charlene and tell everyone she'd died from a heart attack. No,
I couldn't get mad at her. I'd probably have turned her name in, too, if
the roles were reversed. Jesus! "230"?, That girl DOES get around.  I was
so relieved to learn I wasn't sick or had any of the dreaded fatal diseases
I'd imagined, my entire body became regenerated. I felt like
walking...walking on the cold wet streets of my city! New York at night, in
the fall. What could be more wonderful. I walked past the table where
Johnny, Del, Carla, and Eric were all sitting and laughing. Charlene would
be at the bar for hours to come. as long as she had an audience. Not one of
them saw me leave.

	Hell, it wasn't even midnight! I had four hours to prowl. There
were many gay bars to choose from on Third Avenue. I felt so exuberant from
hearing the HD news, I might even pick up two tricks or even three! I had
my life back with a new lease! (Even though it might be rent-controlled). I
walked six blocks down the street whistling, "Autumn in New York". I felt
so good I decided I might walk all seventy blocks back to my apartment.

	At the end of the eighth block, the traffic light was red so I
decided to wait and see what cars stopped beside me and what the drivers
looked like.  I peered out of the corner of my eye without turning my head
and dammit!, all I saw was a fucking tow truck. The driver must've been
interested in me because he honked his horn, which I ignored. He was
persistent because he honked it louder and longer the second time. I was
ready to tell him to 'fuck off' when I turned to look at him. He was
rolling down the passenger's window to yell at me.

	"Hey!" he shouted, "Do you need a ride?"

	Who says they don't believe in fate. I KNEW that voice. It belonged
to the 'man who wears the star'.

	"Hi, Brian." I called back.

	"I repeat. Do you need a ride?" he yelled.

	"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." I replied, walking toward his
truck. I got in, closed the door, looked at him and smiled. He returned my
smile with a bigger one of his.

	"Where to?" he asked.

	I don't know why I did it, but I leaned forward and kissed him on
the lips. He was startled but gave me a very forgiving look.

	"Would you like to go to a movie, sometime?" I asked.

	He laughed.

	"Would you settle for a DVD at my apartment?" he asked.

	"Which one?" I asked.

	"I just bought the complete 'Godfather' set. With all the extra
footage, it runs almost fifteen hours.

	"That should take us through 6:00 PM Sunday afternoon, shouldn't
it?"

	"Something like that."

	"Can we watch it in your bed?"

	"Sure, I'll keep the remote control handy and we can pause it
whenever you feel like it."

	"Jesus! I might be late for work on Monday."

	"Fuck it! Call in sick!"

	The light turned green and the two of us drove off into the night
to meet the dawn.


				   FIN.