Wednesday, 30 July 2014

Thirteen Crucifiixions 25


                                                               1984


            All Stephen really wanted was a moment of freedom. Margery, with her speech about Bryan, had rescued him in the nick of time from yet another lecture from Glen.  Stephen sat there and took it, like a little dog being scolded for peeing on the carpet.  Glen would not have spoken that way to Tanya, into whom Stephen would be transforming himself in less than two hours, before knocking back a couple of mai tais at Burst Arteries, his favourite sleazy gay disco. Then he, or she, would be standing on the street corner, the skirt of her white cocktail dress fluttering in the cool April breeze.  There was a gap in the traffic.  He’d forgotten to pay for his coffee.  Whatever.  He was almost run over by a fat woman in a black BMW.  “Fucking fat-ass yuppie!”  He flashed her his middle finger.  In a corner store he bought a Mars bar, a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, and cigarettes.  So easily he could have had Glen.  He really shouldn’t have pushed so hard, frightening the little virgin.  Or spinster, being what, almost thirty?  Young for his age, he looked younger than Stephen, except for those lines on his forehead.  He actually fell for Stephen’s ploy, believing him to be homeless when he let him stay in his place.  The timing worked out well, since Pierre was busy entertaining that little Tyler twit, making Stephen indeed homeless. The bachelor suite they shared together was tiny, and even though Pierre wasn’t shy about fucking his new snack-boy’s brains out in front of Stephen, still, to everything there is a limit.  They quite insisted that he was more than welcome to join them any time.  “I will if you pay me first”, Stephen snarled as he walked out into the rain.

            He had been stalking Glen.  He just couldn’t help it.  He found him handsome and gentle and nice and kind.  And handsome.  Nurturing without going overboard like Bryan who was overwhelming and oppressive.  But Bryan was ugly, unlike Glen.  And needy.  But Pierre, who was gorgeous, was just as needy and clingy as Bryan.  But Glen made him feel all mushy and delirious.  Stephen could never forgive anyone for making him love them.   Not that Glen had put a gun to his head saying, “Okay, from now on you’re in love with me, or it’s schnitzel for you, Tootsie!”  Stephen just couldn’t help himself—for over a year he’d been trailing Glen, hunting him down, stalking him. A Christian social worker and likely gay, and unlike Bryan, nice, and kind and handsome. An easy touch. So Stephen provided Glen with someone to help—himself. And he fell for it.

            Staying with Glen, for Stephen, had not been quite the heaven, or haven, he had anticipated.  There were rules.  It was like living again in a group home.  Up at seven every fucking morning because of Miss Glenda’s stupid day job.  When Glen showed an unexpected tendency for getting Stephen off the couch in the mornings by yanking the blanket from him, he responded by going to bed naked.  Oh, the look on Glen’s face upon discovering Stephen’s magnificent hard-on.  “He’s just happy to see you”, Stephen said with a smile on his face.  But trying to seduce Glen with his big toe had been the ultimate mistake.  He should have known better.  He always ended up pushing things too far.  After that he couldn’t stay, so he bailed while Glen was out for a walk.

            Glen was worse than a wife, worse than a Jewish mother, in the Pitstop scolding Stephen like that for taking off on him.  Yes mommy, no mommy, I’m taking my vitamins mommy, and I say my prayers every night, mommy, down on my knees while giving fifty dollar blow jobs, mommy—and yes, mommy, I’m still taking all my drugs like a good little boy—coke, pills, mushrooms and meth, mommy, you name it mommy, right along with my vegetables.

               Stephen and Pierre had become like an old married couple.  They couldn’t seem to get rid of each other even if they wanted to.  Tonight he thought that maybe he’d leave Tanya in the closet and go to work as a boy.  Working in drag did pose its hazards, even for Stephen, who was equally convincing and alluring in either gender.  There was that vicious jock who put him in hospital last year.  Stephen, as Tanya, was giving him a blow-job in the back seat of his Chevy when the handsome college boy asked him to stick his finger up his bum. Forgetting himself, since Stephen was in seventh heaven at the time, he asked him in his deepest baritone voice if he’d like something else up there as well.  He nearly lost his spleen from the beating that followed.  Stephen as Tanya made a very convincing woman.  “Flawless.”  Therefore he could have his pick of gorgeous young heterosexual males paying him to do what he most enjoyed doing.  Some of them were thrilled to learn that Tanya was also Stephen, though this had never really sat well with him.


            Pierre wasn’t home yet.  He’d be at the Pitstop working till six.  Tyler was gone, leaving Pierre broken-hearted and in need of such comfort as Stephen alone seemed able to give him, though this also meant having to suffer through his clinginess.  Stephen curled up on the single comfy chair in the apartment where he lit himself a cigarette.  The curtains were drawn.  He enjoyed sitting in the dark. There wasn’t much of a view. The window looked out onto the building next door.  In the apartment directly across lived a handsome trashy young guy who sometimes got naked and jerked off just for Stephen and Pierre to see, presumably while his girlfriend was away.  They had never really met, and whenever they saw him on the street he would avert his eyes and keep walking.  Though he still “entertained” them.  Stephen did not feel like being entertained tonight. He wasn’t in the mood.  He didn’t even bother to turn on the radio or TV.  He lost track of time, and after a while it dawned on him that he was sitting alone in the silence. He didn’t care.  He was comfortable.  He wasn’t waiting for Pierre.  Right now Stephen didn’t really care about Pierre.  He didn’t care about anybody, or anything.  He reached for the TV remote and channel surfed, then turned it off.  Stripping naked he crawled onto the unmade mattress that he shared with Pierre, pulled up the blankets, and fell promptly asleep. 

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