Wednesday night Kyle and I got into a little bit of a "throw down." He didn't say it, but I knew he didn't like my attitude. Frankly, I thought my attitude was pretty shitty, and I didn't blame him for feeling the way he did. He told me he was going to start being a much better big brother to me, and that started Thursday night. After sightseeing all day, we ended up back in Kyle's room. He made drinks for Justin, me, and himself, without my having to ask for one. I didn't know about the other two, but mine was pretty stiff. "Let's walk down to your room. I want to talk to you in private," he said, once the drinks were made. "Am I going to need protection?" I asked. "A condom?" he asked, incredulously. "No. I know that's out of the question. I meant, like, a bodyguard," I said. He laughed. "No, you won't need either kind of protection," he said. We went down to the other room. "I told you I was going to start being a better brother to you, and it's starting with this talk, okay?" he said once we were in my room. "I'm probably going to say some things you're not going to like, and if you get mad at me, we'll work through that later. I don't want this to be an argument, okay? And I don't want you to think I'm putting you down." "God, what did I do?" I asked. I meant for that to be funny, but it wasn't. "Sean, I said last night that I know you smoke. I think that's got to stop," he said. "Kevin and Rick see me smoking all the time, and they haven't said anything," I said. "I'm not talking about cigarettes, and you know it. Hell, I buy the damn things for you. I'm talking about smoking weed," he said. "Have you ever smoked weed?" I asked. "Yes, I have, but it's been a long time. I know a lot of people smoke, and I'm not going to say I never will again. But if they find it on you at school, you're expelled. Zero tolerance. And you're not just expelled from Beachside. You're expelled from the whole school system. Have you been smoking dope at school?" "A couple of times," I said. "Thank you for being honest," he said. "How did you know I smoke and that I've smoked at school?" I asked. "That is a very small community out there on the beach, and I'm very well known by lots of people," he said. "Word gets around." "Do you have spies?" I asked. "No, I don't have spies, but I have a lot of friends," he said. "Do you want me to promise you I'm not going to smoke anymore?" I asked. "No. I'm not asking for promises. All I'm doing is bringing up a few things that I'm aware of and that a lot of people are aware of. You make your own decisions," he said. "But if I don't decide the way you want me to, you'll hate me, right?" "No, I won't. All I'll do is know I did what my conscience told me it was my responsibility to do. If it gets too bad, Kevin and Rick are going to find out. They just will," he said. "Okay. What else do you want to talk about?" I asked. "Sex," he said. "How many guys have you had sex with in the last seven days?" "Not enough," I said. That got a smile out of him, at least. "Seriously," he said. "I don't know," I said, and I was being honest. "You're getting a reputation as a slut. Are you aware of that?" I knew I was pretty promiscuous, but hearing him say that about me kind of took me aback. "You know about my sex life, too?" I asked. "You've been fucking some of my friends. Gay and straight. I'm telling you, people tell me stuff," he said. "I basically don't give a shit if you suck every dick in Emerald Beach, and I'm not passing judgment on you for doing it. Remember when we had that family talk after that guy came on to me in the bathroom at college? Either Kevin or Rick, one of them, said that some guys go through a 'slut' phase when they first come out. That's not my style, and, like I said, I'm not passing judgment on you if it's your style. I just want you to know that people are talking about you. And I'm afraid that reflects to some extent on the other six of us boys in the house, and it damn sure reflects on Kevin and Rick, too.” It hadn't crossed my mind that what I was doing reflected on them. That sort of bothered me. "You're still dating Scott, aren't you?" "Yes," I said. "Is he doing the same thing?" "Not that I know of," I said. "Does he know about me, too?" "I don't know. I haven't talked to him about it, but it wouldn't surprise me if he did," he said. "Scott grew up here, you know? He knows a lot of people, too." "Have I been making Scott look like a fool? I care because I really do like him," I said. "I haven't heard anybody say that, but I think that's probably a possibility," he said. "Shit. I've fucked up royally, haven't I?" I said. "I won't go quite that far yet, but it's something to think about, you know? If you're dating Scott, and everybody knows you are, I think you owe it to him to at least talk to him about screwing around," he said. "Who knows? He may be perfectly fine with your doing that. Have you guys ever talked about having an open relationship? I tend to think in terms of monogamy, but that's just Tim and I. That's what we want. I wouldn't be, but a lot of guys are happy in open relationships." "We're nowhere near your level of commitment, and that whole concept sort of scares me. I know some people can do that, but I'm not sure I can," I said. "I will talk to him about it, though." "I feel really good right now, like the two of us have communicated. I don't want to impose my values on you, that's for sure. At the same time, I felt I wouldn't be a good brother to you if I didn't say what I said," Kyle said. "I took a pretty big risk in doing this, but I don't get the feeling that you're mad at me or resent what I said." "Between last night and tonight, you've given me a whole lot to think about. I really appreciate it that you care, Bubba," I said. "You're not very happy, are you?" he said. "No, I'm not, but it doesn't have anything to do with Emerald Beach or the guys in the house. I came here looking for paradise, but I'm beginning to realize that my problems are inside me. I couldn't find a better environment to be a gay teenager in than our house and our family, so it's not that. It's me," I said. "Have Kevin and Rick talked to you about counseling?" he asked. "No, but I'm beginning to think I need some. What do you think?" I asked. "I'd do it, if I were you," he said. "What are you going to tell them about me?" I asked. "Nothing," he said. "Unless you want me to." "Tell them I told you I'd like to see a counselor. Will you do that for me?" "Absolutely," he said. "You remember that tomorrow we fly the planes?" I knew he was changing the subject because he had said everything he wanted to say. "I'm not going to go up," I said. "I've got too much on my mind for that. Thank you for talking to me, Bubba. You know I'm in love with you, don't you?" He laughed. "No, you're not. Don't say that, Sean," he said. "I won't say it, but I am, Kyle. So are Denny and Murray, I think," I said. "Shit. You guys. You'll get over it," he said. "Kyle, do you know what I just realized?" "What?" "You haven't made a single grammar mistake the whole time we've been talking. And you haven't had an accent, either. That's remarkable," I said. "Let's go get another drink," he said, and the accent and the grumble were back.
Kyle and Sean came back into our room. Denny, Murray, and Tim were sound asleep on the other bed, and Brian and I were making out. We were both naked as jaybirds and as hard as rocks. "Whoa! What'd I miss?" Kyle said. "Don't you knock?" I asked. "Not in my own room, I don't," Kyle said. Brian and I covered up with the sheet. Kyle had seen us hard so many times it wasn't anything to him. I didn't know that Sean ever had, though. I glanced at Brian to see if he was embarrassed, and he wasn't one bit. He had spent about thirty minutes on the phone with Miss Mary Ann, Kevin's secretary and the lady who took care of the dogs when we were gone, and he was all happy that they were doing good. He was the one who started the making out. I knew Kevin and Rick, and all our friends, thought me and Kyle were the two horn dogs, but Kyle and I knew the truth about our two. We had talked about it, even. Kyle called Tim his little sex monkey, and I knew that was true. Brian was my little sex monkey, too, though. "I want another drink," Kyle said. "You want one?" "I've had two already," I said. "So? You can't have three drinks?" Kyle asked. "Yeah, I can. Make me one," I said. He brought me another drink, and he gave Sean one, too. Sean wanted a cigarette, and I did, too. I didn't even bother offering one to Kyle. "So, did you all have a good talk?" I asked. "Yeah, I think we did," Kyle said. "Our appointment at the airplanes is at eleven tomorrow. I'm so pumped about that, I can hardly stand it." "I know. Me, too," I said. "I hope me and you are up at the same time, 'cause if we are, I'm going to dive-bomb your ass." "I think it's simulation. I don't think you're really supposed to kill anybody," he said. "Oh, no? I thought it was okay to kill my best friend," I said sarcastically. "You dumb fuck," Kyle said, grinning at me. He called me that all the time. It was like a term of endearment. If he ever stopped calling me that, I knew I was on his shit list. We talked about what we had done that day, and made the odd insult, of course. "I'm tired," Kyle finally said. Brian was asleep at my side by then. "I'm feeling those drinks, too," I said. "Are you?" "Yeah. A little bit. That's why you drink 'em, though," he said. "Oh, really?" I was being very sarcastic to tease him. "Justin, you're lucky I've got good restraint, son," he said. "If I didn't have good restraint, I'd have to kill you." "Kiss me goodnight, instead, Kyle, and shut the fuck up," I said. He laughed. * * * The next morning we got together in the dining room. They had a breakfast buffet, and our family liked nothing better than a breakfast buffet. After we ate and Kyle downed his first cup of coffee, he had to take a dump. You could damn sure set your watch by him, if you only knew what time he was going to have that first cup. I had to piss again, so I went with him. "So, how'd it go last night?" I asked. "Shut up. I'll tell you in just a minute," he said. I heard 'em hit the water. Then I heard him pissing in the toilet. One minute, flat, and he was out of that stall. That was remarkable to me, but that's all it ever took him. A minute a day. Well, maybe three minutes, but no more than that. Kevin came in. He stood in front of a urinal, but I knew he wanted to talk more than he wanted to piss. "How did it go last night, Kyle?" Kevin asked. "I thought it went good," Kyle said. "We'll see, though." I wanted more details. That was the one thing about Kyle that annoyed me and everybody else. That boy could keep a secret better than anybody I knew. I knew me and Kevin weren't getting any more than that, though. "I'm so excited about today I could pop," Kyle said. "And tonight is the ghost thing. Is this an awesome place, or what?" "Yeah, it's awesome," Kevin said. * * * We had some time before our appointment at North American Top Gun, so we went to the Mission of Nombre de Dios. It was like this big Catholic shrine or something. I knew about the California missions. Some of them had turned into major cities, like San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego. But the Spanish missions in Florida were a hundred years older than the ones in California, and this one was the first. "I reckon the Catholics have been here longer than the Southern Baptists," I said. "The Catholics had been here three hundred years before anybody ever thought about being a Southern Baptist," Brian said. "I guess that's cool," I said. I loved Brian physically and every other way, but I was never going to go up against him in the mental department. That boy was both intelligent and educated, and I didn't have a prayer against him. Slowly, but surely, I was getting a little education, but I would never challenge him. We went into the shrine of Our Lady of La Leche. The English name of it was Our Lady of the Milk and Happy Delivery. "La Leche is Spanish for 'the milk,'" Rick said. "That's pretty gross, I think." "We talked to Jerry about Catholics worshiping bodily organs. This is just another example, and it sort of makes me want to puke," Kyle said. "The holy milk. I've never heard of that before," Kevin said. "Yeah, and your brother's got St. Rock as his confirmation saint," Tim said. "That sounds like an organ to me." We laughed at Tim. It was unusual for him to say funny stuff like that. He was mostly pretty serious. * * * We got to the plane place at about ten minutes to eleven. It was just going to be me, Rick and Kyle going up. The rest of them didn't want to do it. I knew from the first time it was mentioned that my Little Buddy wouldn't want to go up there. The plane ride was incredible. When I had been in a plane before, it was as a passenger. That time, though, I was in the co-pilot's seat, and it was completely different. We didn't go very high up, and I'm not ashamed to say, I got an erection. That didn't have a thing in the world to do with me being gay. It was just excitement on my part. I drove the plane for about twenty minutes. At first I was real cautious, but gradually I speeded it up and got really confident about it. It was fucking fabulous. Then we did the stunts, like rolling over and flying upside down. I was glad we did that before we ate lunch. After we ate lunch, we went to the first Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in the world, that Ripley himself had set up, and then we went to the Fountain of Youth National Archeological Park. There was all that Indian stuff at that Fountain of Youth place. The Timrucua Indian exhibit was awesome. We ate at an Outback Steakhouse that night. "Are there any gay clubs here?" Sean asked. "Not that I could find on the Internet, Bubba. I think you need to go up to Jacksonville for that," Kyle said. We went to some dumb-ass movie, and then we went on the Sheriff's Ghost Walk at midnight. That was fun, but it was a little bit hokey. I tried to scare Kyle and Brian, but I failed. "Get your hands off me," Kyle said. "It ain't me. It must be the ghost," I said. "It ain't no ghost. It's you, you dumb fuck," Kyle said. Kyle and I both laughed.
Everybody went to bed after the Sheriff's Ghost Walk. It was after one o'clock, and everyone was exhausted. We had had quite a big day. I had had several cokes and a couple of bottles of water that night, so I had to get up to pee during the night. Murray and I were sleeping in one bed, and Sean was in the other one by himself. I noticed his bed was empty. I figured he was with Kyle and Justin, and I didn't give it another thought. I did my business in the bathroom, and I went back to sleep. The next morning we all met up in the hotel restaurant. They had a great breakfast bar, and I got a lot. Murray came to the table with a heap of grits, a heap of eggs, and some bacon. "Murray! Don't eat that bacon, man. You're a Jew. You're not supposed to eat that, even if you aren't dieting," Kyle said. "I eat pork, Kyle. I'm a Reformed Jew. We eat pork. That stuff in the Bible is totally misunderstood," Murray said. "I'm eating it, Kyle. Dieting or not." Kyle grinned at him. "I'm just pulling your dick a little bit, Bubba. You know that. You're on vacation, and you ought to be able to eat whatever the hell you like," Kyle said. "You're pulling his dick?" Justin asked. "I wish," Murray said, in a real cute manner, and that made us laugh. Kevin and Rick were the last to get to the table with their food. They told us good morning. "Where's Sean? Is he up yet?" Kevin asked. "He must be. He wasn't in our room when Denny and I woke up," Murray said. "Have any of you seen him down here this morning?" Kevin asked. "No, sir, but come to think of it, he wasn't in his bed when I got up during the night to use the bathroom," I said. "What time was that?" Rick asked. "I don't know. I didn't check my watch. I figured he was talking with Kyle and Justin, or something," I said. "Guys, this bothers me," Kevin said. "Did he seem upset? Did he say anything about running away?" "No, he seemed like he was feeling pretty good yesterday," Kyle said. "We can check to see if he took his clothes from the room, though. He's not stupid. If he did run away, he would have at least taken the stuff he brought on the trip, don't you think?" "Denny, give me the key to your room, please," Kevin said. I gave it to him, and he and Rick got up to go check the room. "Just a minute," Murray said. "Let's go with them, Denny. They won't know what's our stuff and what's his stuff." "Good idea," I said, and the four of us went up to our room. "This is Sean's suitcase, and these are his clothes," Murray said. "Right, Denny?" "They're not mine, and if they're not yours, they have to be his," I said. "Shit!" Rick said. "What the fuck has he done?" "What do we do now?" Kevin asked. "Do we call the police?" "I'd be more inclined to start calling hospitals," Rick said. "We didn't count on this kind of shit, did we?" "No, we didn't, Babe, but let's stay calm and optimistic, okay?" Kevin said. "I noticed him talking to some guys yesterday at the Top Gun place," Murray said. "What kind of guys?" Rick asked. "Old? Young? What?" "Young-ish guys. Maybe in their twenties. All three of them went into the restroom together, and they were in there a pretty long time," Murray said. "Where were we?" Rick asked. "You were up in a plane, and Kevin was outside watching," Murray said. "Rick, please don't be mad at me. I didn't think anything of it until just now." He looked like he was getting a little teary-eyed. Rick wrapped his arms around Murray and pulled him into a hug. "Baby, I'm not mad at you one bit. It isn't your job to monitor your brothers' bowel movements. You didn't do anything wrong, Son," Rick said. "I know, but I feel terrible," Murray said. "Me, too," I said. "I should have woken y'all up last night when I noticed he was gone." Kevin put his arm around me. "Murray. Denny. Y'all didn't do anything wrong. If Sean is missing, it's not your fault," Kevin said. "But we're a family, and we're supposed to look out for one another," I said. "We are a family, Son, but Sean is sixteen years old. He's not a baby who has to be tended to every minute. We're behaving like a family right now," Kevin said. Just then somebody pounded on the door. "Open up," Justin shouted. Rick snatched the door open. "Y'all better get downstairs right away. Sean's back, and he's beat up bad," Justin said. Our rooms were on the fourth floor of the hotel, and we flew down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. When we went into the restaurant, Sean was sitting at our table. Kyle, Tim, and Brian were standing up around Sean, and Brian was holding a napkin up to his face. Sean looked very bad, and he was crying. Some guy, who must have been the restaurant manager, was sort of hovering around, too. "Thank God you're okay," Kevin said, when he got to the table. "He's not okay, Kevin. In fact, I think he's in pretty bad shape," Brian said. "I think he might have a broken collarbone, and I think he has a dislocated finger." "What happened?" Rick asked. "I was beaten up," Sean said through his tears. "I hurt so bad." "I can call an ambulance, if you want me to," the restaurant guy said. I hate to be stereotypical, but I thought that man was gay just from the way he said that. "Thank you, but I think we can take him to an emergency room," Kevin said. "Is there one close by?" "Not real close," the restaurant guy said. "I'll go with you, if you like, to show you where it is." He was around twenty-five or so, and he was blatantly checking out Kevin and Rick. That really annoyed me, for some reason. I mean, I had seen guys checking those two out a bunch of times, but this was a family emergency in a nice hotel. It wasn't some gay cruise joint. "We'd appreciate that. Kyle, get the car, would you, please? Guys, this obviously changes our plans for today, but we've got to take care of him," Kevin said. "We know, Bubba. We'll be okay," Justin said. "Just take care of our little brother." I loved watching what was going on. When Justin spoke, the restaurant guy zeroed in on him for a major check-out, like he hadn't seen him before. If Justin noticed, he didn't say anything. The dining room of the hotel sort of opened right into the lobby, like it was all one big room. We heard a shrill whistle like the kind I've wanted to be able to do all my life but never could. "That's Kyle," Justin said. "He's got the car out front." "Can you walk, Sean?" Rick asked. "I think so," Sean said, but he made an awful noise when he took his first step. "Is it you foot or your leg or what?" Rick asked. "It's my balls," Sean said, and I could tell he was in excruciating pain. They hobbled him off. "Shit, my money is on his balls for getting him into all of this crap, in the first place," Justin said to Brian, Tim, Murray, and me. "I know you're not real crazy about Sean, Buddy, but can't you be at least a little sympathetic?" Brian asked. "He was warned, Brian. He knew what the dangers were, but he did it anyway. And he snuck out of the fucking hotel last night to do it, too," Jus said. "That little prick slapped everybody in this family in the face so he could get laid. How embarrassed do you think Kevin and Rick are going to be about this? Aren't you embarrassed? I'm embarrassed as shit about it. And that little fairy that works here. He near about shot a load in his pants when he saw Kevin and Rick. It wouldn't surprise me if he propositions one of 'em." "I thought he was going to proposition you," Brian said. "Yeah. Well. He didn't, and he ain't getting nowhere if he does," Justin said. "Do y'all think we could finish breakfast?" Murray asked. He said that real meek, but he was very cute. Everybody smiled. Plus, that was the biggest meal he had had in a long time, and I'm sure he was starving. "Come on, Bubba. Let's get us some more hot food," Justin said. "It's all you can eat. By the way, does anybody have any money?" "We can just sign for it," Brian said. "I know," Justin said. "I just wanted to scare you a little bit. Besides, I've got money. And you know I've got a credit card, too, don't you?" "You and Kyle have household credit cards, right?" Tim asked. "Yeah, we do. Kyle's got a Goodson one, too, which is what he charges most things to, except like groceries and stuff. But he and I both have personal ones. I ain't a kid anymore, Brian," Justin said. "You could have fooled me," Brian said. "Oh, yeah? What part of me fooled you?" Justin asked. God, they were so much in love and so cute together. "Not that part," Brian said, grinning. "I didn't think so," Justin said, grinning back. I wanted Kyle. I wanted Justin. Hell, I wanted Tim and Brian, too. I had too many crushes to even keep up with, and I suspected Murray was the same way. * * * After breakfast, we went up to our rooms to brush our teeth and take care of bathroom needs. Murray and I went down to their room when we were finished. "So, what are we going to do?" Justin asked, once we were all in their room. "Don't you think we ought to stay here and wait for them?" Tim asked. "Tim, that's what the cell phone's all about. I know Kyle's got his cell on him. He doesn't go anywhere without that phone," Justin said. "What's on the list?" Murray asked. "A lot of museums, it looks like," Brian said. He was flipping through the handout Kyle had given us. Justin was, too. "Oldest house, oldest schoolhouse, oldest store. Those don't hold much for me. This Lightner Museum sounds way too serious. 'Costumes, furnishings, mechanical musical instruments, cut glass, stained glass.' Unh-unh. I don't care about that," Justin said. "How about the Museum of Weapons and Early American History?" Tim asked. "Absolutely. That's a 'go' for sure, but let's do that at the last of the day, after Kyle and Rick get back. I know they'd both want to go to that place," Justin said. "Why don't we just do some shopping?" Murray said. "We haven't done any of that yet." I actually enjoyed shopping as an activity, but I knew Kevin, Rick, Kyle, and Justin didn't. I wasn't sure about Tim and Brian. "Shop for what?" Justin asked. "He means just walk around and look at the stuff they have in the stores and galleries, Buddy. Not shop for anything in particular," Brian said. "Yeah, I guess we could do that," Justin said. "Well, let's go," Brian said. "And I want you to buy me something nice, you hear?" "Like what? What do you need?" Justin asked, solicitously. "Justin, you just don't get the concept of shopping as recreation, do you?" Brian asked. "I guess I don't. I don't know what you're talking about," he said. Brian was just a little bit taller than Justin. Brian grabbed him and kissed him hard on the lips. "I love you so much, but you're the straightest queer I've ever heard of," Brian said. "Stop it. You're embarrassing me. I'm as gay as you are," Justin said. "I know you are, Buddy. I'm just having fun with you," Brian said. "God, don't you want that?" Murray said privately to me, referring to their relationship. "More than anything," I said.
I was sitting at the table eating my breakfast, and all of a sudden this man and Sean came in calling out my name. "What's that all about?" Tim asked. "Hell if I know," I said. I went over to see what the man wanted with me, and it was a taxi driver. He wanted $45. Sean was standing there, looking like shit. I gave the man $50, which I thought was the right tip, and I went back to the table. Brian and Tim had taken him back there. "Where the hell have you been?" I asked. "Don't ask me that right now," he said. "I've got some bad cuts and shit, Kyle." I could see he had some bad ones on his face. He had a lot of blood on his shirt and his face from his right cheek. Brian got a cloth napkin from the table, put some ice and cold water in it, and put it on his face where the cut was. Justin had gone to get Kevin and Rick. Brian became like a doctor or something. He, like, examined Sean or something. Sean let him do it, too. "What happened, Bubba?" Brian asked. "I got kicked a lot. That's all I know, Bri," he said. When Kevin and Rick came down, they took one look at him and wanted to take him to the emergency room. I thought that was a good idea. They told me to get the car, so I did. "Where to?" I asked, when we were all in the car. I didn't have a clue where a hospital was. "I'll give you directions," the guy from the hotel said. "By the way, my name's Stan Parker." We all introduced ourselves and said we were pleased to meet him. I wanted the 4-1-1 on what had happened to Sean, but he was in a whole lot of pain. I knew this was going to be a mess, and I was just glad we had gotten to fly the day before. If we had missed that because of him, he would have had worse injuries from me than he ever had from the guys who beat him up, that's for sure. Not really, of course, but I would have wanted to do it. I figured our little talk of the other night had done absolutely no good whatsoever. Stan kept giving me directions, and it was complicated getting there. He was in the shotgun seat, and Kevin and Rick were in the middle seat with Sean. Every time he told me something, Stan touched my arm. I figured he'd be going for my crotch any minute. He couldn't take his eyes off me. I enjoyed being admired as much as the next guy, but I didn't like it when guys were that obvious. We finally got to the hospital. Kevin went inside and came out a few minutes later with an orderly and a wheelchair. They got Sean inside the hospital. "Thanks for getting us here, Stan. I'll take you back to the hotel," I said. "No. Let's wait and see how long this is going to take. You won't be able to find your way back here without me, anyway," he said. "True," I said. "I hate for you to waste all day, but I appreciate it. My daddy's got a franchise of this same brand of hotel, and I'll get him to write a letter to somebody important about how nice you've been." "Your father owns a hotel?" he asked, like I had said he owns the Gulf of Mexico. "Yeah," I said. "My God," Stan said. "How old are you?" I didn't think that was a very relevant question in response to the fact that my daddy owns hotels, but maybe that was just a way of starting conversation. "Eighteen. I'll be nineteen next month," I said. "How old are you?" "Twenty-six," he said. I found a parking place, and we walked back to the emergency room entrance. None of my people were in the waiting room, so I figured they were in the back with Sean. "What happened to your friend?" Stan asked. "I don't know. We didn't get much out of him. Evidently some guys beat him up, though. Kevin and Rick are going to be supremely pissed off, too. I don't know what they're going to do with Sean," I said. They had a TV set on in that waiting room, and we were watching the Today Show. Matt Lauer was talking to that Stephen guy that's the flamer they have on there from time to time. "Does that guy bother you?" Stan asked me about Stephen. Stan wasn't as obvious as Stephen, but he would sure give ole Murray, Chad, and Gage a run for the money. "Bother me? Why would he bother me? I think he's funny, and he's smart as hell, too. He knows more shit about Hollywood and the celebrities than anybody I've ever listened to," I said. "I think he's probably gay, but I ain't prejudiced against gay people. Are you?" "No, not at all," he said. "I think I come across a little like him sometimes." No, I thought. You come across a lot like him, but I didn't say that. "He probably can't help the way he acts, and you probably can't, either. Of course, I think he's making money off the way he acts and talks," I said. "He might even be putting on a little bit to make the act better." "You're remarkable," he said. "What does that mean?" I asked. "Well, most straight guys would ridicule him. And me," he said. "Well, they're just assholes, is all they are," I said. We shut up and watched the TV. Stephen was going on about how good his hair was that day, and ole Matt and Al and Katie and Ann Curry were all going along with him, sort of tongue in cheek. Stephen had to know his hair looked like shit, like it always did, and he was pulling a big, fat-ass joke on the whole fucking country. That Stephen guy had some big-ass balls on him, that's for sure. He kind of reminded me of Gage a little bit, but ole Gage was ten times better looking than Stephen was. "Kyle, do you have a girlfriend?" Stan asked, pawing my arm some more. "Stan, please don't touch me like that, okay?" I said. "I'm sorry, Kyle. That's a very bad habit I have. I didn't mean anything by it," he said. I felt like shit for having said that. I knew he didn't mean anything by it, but I just don't like random touching like that, especially by people I don't know. "I know you didn't, man, but that makes me nervous. And, no, I don't have a girlfriend. I have a boyfriend. I'm gay," I said. "Please don't make fun of me," he said, in this pitiful little voice. "I'm not making fun of you. I really am gay, and I really do have a boyfriend. His name is Tim Murphy, and we've been together for almost three years," I said. "I want to believe you, Kyle, but . . . " "Believe me, Stan. Would I say that about myself if it wasn't true. Every one of us in the group at that table is gay. We're a gay family, man. Which reminds me. I need to call my family and tell them what the hell's going on here," I said. I dug my phone out of my pocket and called Tim's number. "Hey, I'm at the hospital. What are you guys doing?" "Hey, Babe. Is Sean okay?" Tim asked. "I don't know. He's in the back with Kevin and Rick and the doctors, I guess. What are y'all doing?" "Shopping," Tim said. "Shopping for what?" I asked. "Just shopping. We're not looking for anything in particular. We're just passing the time. How long are you guys going to be?" "I don't know. I'm hanging out with Stan, the guy from the hotel. Turns out he's a nice guy. He doesn't believe I'm gay, though." "It's because you don't like to shop," Tim said. "I want you to vouch for me being gay, okay? Let me give the phone to him," I said. "Okay," Tim said. "This is my boyfriend, Tim Murphy. He's going to vouch for the fact that I'm gay because I still don't think you believe me," I said to Stan. "Hello? Tim? It's Stan," he said. Pause. "You're kidding. My God, it's that big?" Stan said. Pause. "Oh, I can imagine. You lucky boy," Stan said. Pause. "He's very cute, except for the hair," Stan said. "I really prefer the bleached-blond scarecrow cut." "Gimme my phone," I said, almost shouting. He handed it to me. "What did you tell him?" I demanded. Tim was laughing his damn ass off. It took him a few seconds before he could even talk. "Kyle, that guy got you last in the worst way, and I'll bet he doesn't even know the game," Tim said. It sounded like he was gasping for air, he was laughing so hard. I looked Stan full in the face, and he was grinning like that famous cat that I can never remember. "You shithead," I said, and that made him and Tim both laugh. "I'm hanging up. I love you, and I don't know how long we're going to be here. Bye." Stan and I were both laughing our asses off. He was a good guy, and I knew he'd fit right in with us. If you're not anything else, you've got to be clever to fit in with the Foley-Mashburn crowd, and that guy definitely was clever. After we settled down, Stan asked, "Where do you all live?" "Emerald Beach, Florida. You ever hear of it?" "You're kidding, right? Of course I've heard of it. I went to FSU. I've been there a hundred times," he said. "Kevin and Rick went to FSU. They majored in hospitality, same as I'm going to," I said. "Oh, my God! That's where I know them from. When I saw them this morning, I knew I had seen them before. But I don't remember them being a couple in school," he said. "They weren't. They each thought the other one was straight. They didn't get together until they both got jobs in Emerald Beach. Now they both work for my daddy," I said. "They say it's a small world, after all," he said. "Listen, if you start singing that fucking song, I'm getting up and leaving," I said. He laughed hard. "I won't sing. I hate that song, too," he said. "You went to FSU. Where are you from?" I asked. "I'm actually from the Panhandle. Freeport, in Walton County. Have you heard of that?" "I've been through Freeport a bunch of times. Damn, man. We're neighbors. Did you ever hear of Goodson Enterprises in Emerald Beach?" "Of course, I have. They have, like, a dozen hotels and motels. I tried to get an internship at one of them, but I didn't match the demographics, or something," he said. "They have eleven hotels and motels, and sixteen gift shops, too. And my daddy's got a big hotel in Destin, too. Kevin runs the hotels, and Rick runs the gift shops. Oh, and by the way, my full name is Kyle Goodson," I said. If I had had my camera there, that face would have been in my next book. That boy just about shit a brick. "I think you might consider this your lucky day," I said. "I think Kevin is always looking for talent, and maybe you've got what it takes." "My God! My parents would have a fit if I moved to Emerald Beach," he said. "Well, talk to Kevin. Are you out to your parents?" I asked. "Kyle, I've been out since I was four years old," he said. I laughed. "I don't believe that," I said. "Seriously, I don't think anybody in Freeport ever believed I was anything but gay my whole life. That's the way it is in a tiny village. I was the town queer. I was never picked on for it or made fun of to my face. I was the one who made all the flower arrangements for church dinners, who decorated the church for weddings, and who had the lead in the high school musical. Even though I can't sing very well. I was friends with everybody, and everybody understood and accepted the fact that I was different. "I have a brother who is a couple of years younger than I am. He's a total jock. Football, baseball, hunting, fishing. You name it. I worship him, Kyle. His name is Eugene, but most people call him Gene." "Damn, that's my daddy's name," I said. "I know. Anyway, Eugene was very protective of me, and he never let the other guys make fun of me. He just got married about a year ago," he said. "I think his wife is a bitch. She doesn't like me at all, and I think she resents Eugene's relationship with me." "That's kind of a switch, you know? The younger brother protecting the older brother," I said. "I know, but that's the way it was," Stan said. Stan and I had been there talking a long time, and they finally brought Sean out in a wheelchair. "Brian diagnosed everything. Broken collar bone and dislocated finger," Rick said. Sean had a splint, or something, on one of his fingers on the left hand. I knew they really couldn't cast the collar bone. They had cleaned his face up very good, but he had a bandage on his right cheek. It wasn't much bigger than a Band-Aid. "Did you get some stitches in your cheek?" I asked. "Yeah. Five," he said. "That'll be like a dueling scar, man. That is too cool," I said. "A plastic surgeon did the stitches. He said there wouldn't be a scar," Sean said. "Aw, man," I said. "You asshole," Sean said, and we all laughed. I drove us back to the hotel under Stan's directions, and we went to a pretty cool weapons museum that afternoon. Tim had bought me a really neat St. Augustine tee shirt that morning, and a nice baseball cap, too. I didn't have a chance to buy him shit, but that kind of thing didn't matter between us. * * * "I want us to take Stan out to a really nice dinner tonight," I said. "I want him to get to know us and us to get to know him. He might be somebody you're interested in hiring, Kevin." "Sure, but I doubt we can get a reservation at any nice places this late," Kevin said. "I consider Outback 'nice,'" I said. They laughed. "All you're interested in is the meat," Justin said. We all laughed at his pun. |