Saturday 2 August 2014

Thirteen Crucifixions 27


                                                            1986

 

The white gauze curtains swelled and fluttered as the cool breeze filled them and caused them to billow like a fantasy ship in a fairy sea.  Pierre lay on the freshly made bed on his stomach, staring at the fluttering curtains.  Two days he had been here, in this hotel, with a young handsome German, a tourist visiting Vancouver for Expo.  In Vancouver, in the Dufferin Lounge last week he had first met Helmut, who had had a beer sent over to him.  Pierre had gone there for breathing space, having had more than his share of both Matthew and Stephen.  He never thought that he’d grow sick of them, not even of Stephen, from whom he’d been inseparable these past seven years.  Helmut had become for him an easy way out.  And now he was sick of Helmut.  He was handsome, gorgeous, actually, and so Teutonically flawless that Pierre had been at a loss at first as to what to do on their first night in bed together.  He found that he was not a particularly imaginative lover, rather conventional.  A spoilt bourgeois from Cologne.  He wanted to be back with Stephen, whose absence was entering his body like a palpable ache.  Helmut had gone off to get cigarettes.  Pierre hoped that he’d get lost for a while, or maybe meet up with that nice young man who had been cruising him in the bar last night.  He wasn’t at all possessive.  “Why didn’t you go with him”, Pierre had asked. “He was cute.”  Helmut in his lightly accented English replied, “But I’m with you.”  “So, you’re European.  You’re supposed to be sophisticated.  If it happens again don’t stall on my account.” “I was hoping you’d care more.” “Look, I brought you out here to fucking Victoria and you think I don’t care more…” and on they went.  Pierre was not used to being alone.  The delicious euphoria of solitude was too heady a fragrance for him to sustain well.  He knew that he needed this.  Glen had even told him, and Glen was usually right.  Helmut looked rather like Glen, though more highly polished and more perfectly trimmed.  He missed Glen almost as badly as he missed Stephen.  He wondered if he would be getting up to anything with Matthew.

            They were going to spend the remainder of the week here.  It was only Tuesday.  The plan today was to go walking in Beacon Hill Park.  The weather was nice enough.  Still June, and on the cusp of the summer solstice.  He had never travelled here on his own.  He wondered what it would be like, how well he would cope.  He didn’t want to think about it.  He couldn’t stop wondering.  What would it be like for him to live alone, to move out of the comfort and luxury of Pamela’s mansion, and out of the needy embrace of Stephen’s arms and to sleep alone in his own room and in his own bed.  There were plenty of empty bedrooms in the mansion.  He could always experiment.  Stephen might object, but they would both get used to it.  Surely they would both, in time, have to get used to it.  He felt like the son-in-law.  He did like Pamela.  Sometimes they sat and chatted together over tea and biscuits.  She was a nice, generous lady.  He had never known anyone like her, though he couldn’t say that he really knew her at all.  She was Stephen’s mother, and not his, which he didn’t mind, since Pierre already had a mother, living now in Ottawa, with whom he was in regular contact.  He had given Stephen and Pamela plenty of space to properly bond with each other.  Matthew was in a way his consolation.

            Pierre felt in a way that through Matthew he was making reparation for the corruptive influence he had had on Stephen when he initiated him into the sex trade.  He had been most careful with Matthew, and not simply because he was Pamela’s grandson.  Pierre honestly and sincerely wanted to make good of his wasted life.  He wanted, for once in his life, to impart on a younger person some wholesome and constructive influence.  He wanted to be for Matthew what Glen had come to be for him.   More than two years ago Pierre and Stephen had both left the sex trade.  He didn’t miss it, though he still didn’t know how to remember those years.  Too much had happened in that time for him to simply forget.  Fortunately, he’d managed to stay away from the harder drugs.  Stephen for a while had not been so fortunate, but Pierre was confident that he hadn’t touched cocaine in the past two years or so.

 

 

 

 

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