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 Seven
"I suppose I'm the one who should apologize," I said to Del, over the phone.
"No, it was just as much my fault." Del replied.
"I'm afraid I was a little bit too rough on Eric, but something snapped in me. I told you, shortly after we met, that I wasn't in your league and I felt that everything Eric said was trying to put me in my place."
"Chris, he's usually not like that. We are like twins. When we were kids we used to finish each other's sentences because we thought so much alike!"
"I had the feeling the other night that we were grappling for your attention. I thought he'd accepted your being gay, but the more he and I talked while you were out of the room, I felt he was trying to save you from me." I said.
"It's just that you're the first person he's ever met that cared for me in the way that you do. I've never had a girlfriend OR a boyfriend for him to meet and get to know and I suspect he was a bit jealous."
"A bit?!! He was ready to fight me over you."
"After you left, Eric and I had a long talk and he was sorry he'd been so hostile to you. He said that he would try to spend the rest of the evening making it up to you when you returned to take us out on the town. Of course, when you didn't show up...or bother to call to explain where you were, he became furious again."
"Well, for being negligent in not R.S.V.P'ing, I deserve it. I suppose the Tinker Bell shindig is off now?"
"Not necessarily, I've just about convinced him to go along with us."
"You've GOT to be kidding!!!"
"Nope...but he's not going in drag...neither am I, for that matter. I just want Eric to see the fun side of gay life...of course, I'm anxious to see it myself."
"All right, I'll have to fix Charlene and Johnny a Xanax cocktail and promise them the rest of my Garland/Merman/Streisand CD collection in my will, but I won't dress up either. The three of us...you, Eric, and I will go as male observers from the media. There's lots of TV, newspaper and magazine reporters who attend every year. They go usually to see what celebrities are there...which ones support gay causes as well as which ones that haven't come out of the closet yet. Tell Eric he's liable to see Elton, Liza, Whoopi, Rosie, and many more at the party."
"That should be enough to entice him. Eric's a huge Rosie fan."
"He might relax more if he knows there are a lot of straight people that attend. Who knows? We might be able to fix him up with someone while he's in New York to make the winter seem shorter when he goes back to frigid Wisconsin and his frigid wife."
"Wouldn't THAT be something?" Del laughed.
"The only favor I ask of you is to tell Eric about Charlene and Johnny. You know how vitriolic Charlene can be and I don't want to see her and Eric lock horns. Also, she and Johnny are my best friends and I don't want either of them getting their feelings hurt."
"I'll warn Eric to be on his best behavior."
"Do you still think its a good idea taking him?"
"Sure," Del said, "Besides, it's about time I came out of the closet, especially to my brother."
"What about 'us'?"
"What do you mean, 'us'?"
"Where does our relationship stand after I stood you up?"
"I knew it would happen. I just didn't expect it this soon."
"You knew WHAT would happen?" I asked.
"You were with another guy, weren't you?"
"I won't lie. Yes, I was."
"That's OK. I couldn't expect a leopard to change his spots instantly. You're used to being with a lot of guys. I KNOW that. As you told me, it's like an addiction have and I couldn't expect you to quit 'cold turkey', That's why I won't even bother forgiving you. I know you want to change. I also know that you'd like a permanent relationship with me. But you need time. Until you're convinced you've had all the others you want to have and you come to a conclusion that I'm the only one you want for the rest of your life, we'll just keep our arrangement in place, the way it is now."
"The more you talk, the more you make me realize that you're THE one that I want."
"Chris, there's never been just one person in my life, not since college, anyway...and that was a disaster. What I'm trying to say is that there's no one else in my life right now...and I'm not looking...beyond you. So when you're ready to settle down. I'll be here waiting for you."
"Goddamn! I don't think I can cheat on you now."
"Well, that's a start."
"More like a finish."
"Did you have a good time on your date?"
"It really wasn't a date. It was more like a therapy session. You see, I met this cop..."
"Good God, you weren't arrested were you?"
"No, silly, I went to his apartment...and we listened Mahler's fifth."
"A cop AND Mahler? No wonder you were attracted to him."
"And we ended up having a sorta improvised jerk-off session. Then I walked home."
"I hesitate to ask, but weren't you attracted to him sexually?"
"It's a long story...believe me...a looooooonnnng story. But, no, I wouldn't've had the sex we had, if it weren't for my feeling sorry for him."
"Sounds like your being a schoolteacher got in the way of your lovemaking."
"I haven't thought about it, but I guess you're right."
"Well, if you were doing nothing but playing boy scout or therapist, I suppose I'm not jealous then."
"You have no reason to be...Help me, Del. I'm trying...Believe me, I'm honestly trying and I want to change."
"That's the first step in any recovery program. We'll take that step together and go forward from there."
"I know we promised not to say it, but I do love you."
"I'll break the promise and say that I love you, too."
"That's all I needed to hear. I can sleep soundly now."
"Alone?"
"No, you'll be with me in my fantasy while I jerk off."
"Good night, Chris."
"'night, Del, I'll call you tomorrow after I've talked with Johnny and we'll make definite plans about going to the party tomorrow night."
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The next day after work, I called Johnny and, as luck would have it, Charlene answered the phone. I briefly filled her in on my meeting Eric and his relationship with Del. She replied with her usual emphasized, "Uh huh"s a and "Oh really?"s until I got down to the real reason I called..."Did she or Johnny know an attractive straight girl who MIGHT go to a gay gala and meet a straight man on a blind date?"
"A REAL girl??? One that gives milk and smells like a fish, naturally?" Charlene screamed.
"Yes, a real girl, you idiot." I replied.
"Oh, masser, tell me it's not for you. Tell me you haven't gone straight and deprived New York City of one of its wonders...'cause if you have, I'll go into the bathroom right now, and drink a Borax cocktail for there's nothin' else to live for...Oooh" she swooned.
"Charlene, take off those long danglies and listen to me! I told you the girl is NOT for me. She's for Del's straight brother!"
"Oh, thank you, Lawd, for not healin' the masser!! Thank you for not buryin' him in the cold, cold ground!!...All right, Chris, is the guy cute?"
"Cute? Eric's the spitting image of Del. You couldn't tell one from the other."
"Oh, I bet I could...in the dark. There are NO two men alike when I meet them."
"I know they're never the same AFTER you meet them." I replied.
"Oh, you can be a vicious bitch at times."
"Charlene, darling, why do you think you're my best friend?"
"I always thought you maintained my friendship because you wanted to borrow my wigs and gowns when you decide to become a drag queen."
"When that time comes, I'll need to borrow your hearing aid, your walker, and your rolled-down stockings."
"Honey, queens don't live that long. We kill our husbands, molt, fly away and go to some private villa where we suck the nectar from little drones until their eyes sink into their tiny heads."
"You are TOO much!"
"..as I've often been told."
"All right, if I can't get a straight answer from you..."
"Honey, I don't know HOW to give a straight answer...not for years and years."
"Charlene! Is Johnny there?"
"Johnny Who?"
"This is NOT a knock, knock joke. I need to speak to Johnny."
"That's right! Kill the fun! You'll miss my laughs!..YES, sweetie, I know lots of girls. What kind do you want for Brother Eric?"
"Not a call girl and NOT an intellect. The kind of girl that was raised eating cheese and drinking milk," I said.
"Along with her curds and whey? MY GOD!! Do I see a spider?...No, goddammit, one of my false eyelashes came loose."
"Jesus Christ!...and just last night I told Del you were one of my best friends!!"
"Why shouldn't I be? Who else would put up with all your boyfriends except your best friend or your mother...and I'm way too young for you to call me 'Mom'!"
"How about one of those girls that sells you cosmetics on Fifth Avenue?"
"I know dozens!"
"Are they straight?"
"Well, once a month the manager has to come out in front of the stores and shoo away the cats trying to track the tuna smell."
"I guess that's your way of telling me that they're real females."
"They may be females, but none of them will ever be the woman that I am!"
"OK. You know the kind of girl I'm looking for. So would you be kind enough to pick out the NICEST one and invite her to come along with you and Johnny to the ball?"
"Don't worry, love. You have nothing to worry about. I know a few that pay their rent off the commission of the sales I give them. I'll pick you a doozy."
"That's what I'm afraid of. I'd rather you and Johnny pick her out, together."
"OK, OK, I'll ask Johnny to go shopping for me. He'll never understand that I'm shopping FOR the sales girl."
"Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow, around eight...with the NICE girl."
"Sweetheart, if it'll make you feel better, I'll dress her in calico with a big sash tied behind her back. How about freckles and pigtails?"
"She sounds fantastic! I love you. Goodbye."
"...bye, darlin'". Charlene hung up.
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As I started out the door to go to school the next morning, I glanced at the stack of mail I had plopped on my desk the night before. I used my finger to spread out the envelopes so that I could get a glimpse of the return addresses. Mostly, I looked to see if there was a red stamp on one of them saying, "Final Notice" on some utility bill I had failed to pay. One particular envelope caught my eye. From the day a boy becomes a man, there are two pieces of mail he always dreads. A man usually doesn't have to open it to know its contents. If he did open it, he wouldn't have to read more than opening sentence. The first being, "Greetings from the President of the United States..." and the second, equally as foreboding, "This is to inform you that your name has been submitted to the New York Department of Health..." Mine was the latter. Someone, with some disease, had turned in my name for having been exposed to whatever virus, condition, or disease he had been found to have.
My heart sank to my intestines in fear. Did I have the big "A" or was it a mere case of syphilis, gono, or crabs? In my case, the fright was greater. How many dark faces had I encountered over the years or specifically in the past few months or weeks? The biggest mystery was how did the Health Department know how to reach me? The glory holes, the darkened movie houses or adult book store back rooms, a retreat into the bushes in the park...all of these encounters were totally anonymous without shame or names. One never exchanged phone numbers, addresses, or identities during these brief episodes, so how or why would I be contacted? The letter advised me to report downtown for a blood test. I might just as well been told I had a terminal illness with only a short time to live for the letter had had the same effect on me. There was no way of telling who it might have been...hundreds of penises with no faces crossed before my eyes...but yet, this person was one who knew me well enough to report me and in turn the HD had discovered my address. I had the Tinker Bell Ball to go to tonight. Before that, I had a full day of classes to teach. The HD would be closed the next day, so I would have to wait until after the weekend and go Monday to learn my fate. God! What a long fucking weekend this was gonna be!! I went into the bathroom and pulled my pants down to examine my genitals for visible sores or blisters. I saw none. There were no red splotches. I hadn't noticed any discomfort peeing. I hadn't scratched any itchy spots on my body. In my mind, that had ruled out gono, crabs, and the "syph". Of course it could be any disease, not necessarily HIV. I mean, it could be something simple like measles, mumps, chicken pox, or whooping cough. I looked at my face in the medicine cabinet mirror and saw no pocks, or redness, or swelling in my throat. I hadn't been coughing or throwing up. My throat wasn't sore and I had no fever. I looked again in the mirror to see if the white in my eyes had turned yellow. Nope...no noticeable sign of Hepatitis. Shit! I had narrowed it down to AIDS or TB. Cancer or heart disease weren't contagious, so it must be one of the two I suspected. God damn! TB was treatable in the 21st century, but what about AIDS? I had ALWAYS been careful. I couldn't remember ever having unsafe sex since junior high school with my best friend. Yep, there was no doubt in my mind. I had somehow contracted AIDS from some unknown source. I hadn't given blood or received a transfusion of any kind. God knows, I had NEVER done drugs of any kind, especially those which involved a needle. My God! I'm in the prime of my manhood and I am about to die. I placed a washcloth under the faucet to wipe my face with cold water and I noticed my hands shaking. The most immediate thing I knew to do was to call the school and tell them I wouldn't be at work today. I certainly couldn't stand before a group of sixth graders all day without losing my mind with the added worry that I'd just had placed on my shoulders. My second thought was to call Del and Johnny and bow out of the party tonight...but then, I would have to give them a lame explanation and I did not want them to know a thing about my HD letter. Maybe it would be better to go to the party. At least it would help to make the weekend go by quicker. GOD DAMN! If I were infected, who did I infect?...NO ONE. I just told myself I always used condoms...so I had infected NO ONE!! That was a relief in knowing that!!! Shit! Months and months of having to swallow those infernal cocktails...pills...shots...IV's...only God knows what else. NO! NO! NO! WHY ME? I thought maybe I should go to church and say a rosary, light a candle, go to confession, and all that rot...just to touch all bases. I had made out a temporary will and thought maybe I should make an appointment with a lawyer ASAP to have it finalized.
I just couldn't stay home alone all day. I had to get out and get my mind occupied over my pre-occupation of my death. I decided on getting a haircut. a massage (with NO sex), maybe buying some new clothes, taking in a movie...ANYTHING to keep busy!!! By the time I reached the barber's, I had opted to have my hair lightened with blonde streaks. I also had my eyebrows shaped with slight arches. I took a cab to Bloomingdales and charged four shirts. two pairs of slacks, some underwear and socks, and a new pair of brown loafers. It was too late in the day to get a massage and besides I would've been too tempted to pay for a hand or blow job. Instead, I bought a copy of New York magazine and read all the movie reviews while I ate a large multi-vegetable salad. There were so many new movies that I hadn't seen. I had my choice of Brad, Matt, Ben, I skipped over Tom because I hadn't understood his last three or four movies. That thing he spent a year on with Stanley Kramer and Nicole was an all time bore. And I was confident that Tom had never seen a single episode of the "Mission Impossible" TV series. Otherwise he would have known that it was a show about teamwork where six or eight people combined their talents to make the "impossible", possible...not a superhero that could do everything by himself. Oh, well, so much for Tom. Johnny had "Billy Crudupped" me to death with his DVD's the other night. So I decided to walk down Broadway and choose a movie from the flashing marquees. I saw an art house advertising, "hits you might have missed". They were showing an unpopular movie from last season, "Urbania" starring Jon Favreau. I bought a ticket, some popcorn, candy, soft drink and went into an empty theater where everyone was missing this film on its second "go-round". The movie was so good it blew me away. The only problem, it was about a gay guy spending the evening searching for the murderer of his lover, the victim of a hate crime. Well, at least the lover hadn't died from AIDS. That was a relief! When the movie was over, it was nearly 5:00 PM...time enough for me to go home, soak in a tub of hot water, dress, and go to meet Del and Eric and take them to the Tinker Bell Ball.
I arrived at Del's apartment, all spiffy and gussied up in my new slacks and shirt. Del greeted me at the door and gave me a "welcome" kiss at the door before I entered to see Eric, sitting on the couch nurturing a drink. Neither of them would get a hint about the letter I'd received from the HD, nor would Charlene or Johnny, for that matter. Nope! The night would be a fun night for everyone, I hoped. Eric WAS on his best behavior and greeted me cordially. He even managed a smile and attempted to crack an unfunny joke about my being on time. I took it in stride, good naturedly. I followed Del into the kitchen, leaving Eric in the living room with his drink, to tell him about Charlene and Eric's proposed blind date. Del looked askance at the idea, but decided to go along with the plan. At least I had made an effort to make amends with Eric.
The two of them donned their coats and we left for the club. On arrival at the party, the music was all "disco" from the 70's and 80's. No matter how attracted gays were to the Backstreet Boys and n'sync, queens had never totally detached themselves from Gloria Gaynor, the Stylistics, and the Bee Gees. Inside, the room was filled with a conglomeration of the Mardi Gras and Studio 54. Johnny had spotted us as soon as we entered and stood up to flag us over to join him. Somehow we pushed our way through the dancing on the main floor and made it to his reserved table. Charlene was nowhere in sight. She was behind stage preening her garb and makeup for the oncoming beauty pageant. Sitting with Johnny was a very attractive young woman, reminiscent of Michele Pfeiffer, in modest but appropriate attire. Her name was Carla and she was instantly attracted to the "twins". When she realized the younger of the two was my date, she focused her attention on Eric. Eric responded politely and decided she was the ideal ticket for him to show off his masculinity and his being "straight" in a gay club. After we ordered a round of drinks, Eric invited Carla to dance. Del took a long hard look at Carla making sure she was authentically female. The last thing he needed was for his brother to fall for a transvestite, unbeknownst to Eric. The two of them, Eric and Carla, didn't return to the table until five or six songs later. They each had taken a liking toward one another. Everything was going smoothly, according to the plan. At times, you could almost see Eric's eyes bulge out of their sockets when he noticed a beautiful drag or observed two handsome men kissing in public. But he maintained his cool and accepted everything as the norm. I danced one slow number with Del. It was great to have him back in my arms as I felt so safe in his holding me.
Soon it was time for the show. A rather handsome dyke acted as Master of Ceremony in white tie and tails. Damn! I could've gone for her myself under different circumstances...the difference being my knowledge concerning the authenticity of the bulge in the front of her trousers. He (She) introduced the first act who was a dead-ringer for Ethel Merman and the crowd burst into a roar when she belted an perfect imitation of "Everything's Coming Up Roses". I looked at Del while he mouthed "Stephen Sondheim wrote the lyrics" to me. I responded by nodding, "Oh really?", as if he had just taught me something that all queens knew and took for granted. Her next number was from "Annie Get Your Gun" where she sang "I Got Lost in his Arms" singing to a guy in an octopus costume, entangling her with all eight tentacles. Everyone howled with laughter, including Eric and Carla. I looked around and noticed several celebrities and pointed them out to our "straight" couple. Eric looked agog upon seeing so many famous people. The next number was performed by a gay duo...one dressed as a man and the other in full drag while they sang a parody on still another Merman hit, "Any Man You Can Do, I can Do Better"...More laughter and more applause. The show went on for an hour, each number topping its predecessor. Finally, in honor of all the guys who had lost their lives from AIDS in the previous year, the host (hostess) asked everyone to join hands on the dance floor and sing Sondheim's "No One Is Alone". The noisy room became somber while everyone managed to shed a tear in memory of their lost loved ones.
The occasion lightened up next with the coronation of the "Queen". First, there was a parade of all the contestants. Charlene came out fourth in a black sheath dress, looking like Doris Day in "Love Me Or Leave Me". She received thunderous applause making it appear that she was the crowd's favorite. A panel of judges comprised of six major Broadway show critics put their heads together to make a choice. They handed their decision to the MC and I don't know who was the more or less surprised, Johnny or Charlene, when Charlene was announced as the winner. She received a huge standing ovation when she got her genuine cubic zirconium crown. After much ado and hubbub, the DJ once again began to play disco music on his turntables. The newly crowned monarch joined us at the table. We all gave her a congratulatory hug, including Eric who hadn't even met her yet. He was thrilled that the "winner" was honoring us by her presence at our table. Eric looked around to see if the crowd was noticing where she sitting and with whom. Johnny and I were especially pleased for Charlene, even though we knew we would hear about this night in full detail for many months to come. Oh, well, that was one of the pangs of victory.
The night wore on. Soon it was nearing midnight and since I had sworn off sex earlier this morning, or at least until I reported for tests at the HD, Eric's being in town gave me an excuse to refuse spending the night with Del until further notice. Thank God for small favors for I would not have to make up an excuse when saying I had to go home. I was grateful the evening had gone by swiftly with no problems or complications until Eric followed me to the men's room and asked me if I knew of a nearby hotel where he could stay the night and indulge in his first extramarital rendezvous. Shit! Now, Del would be going home alone and I would be forced into bowing out with some lame excuse, hiding the truth. Boy! Eric must've really been horny to want to stoop to indiscretion on his very first opportunity of infidelity. God knows, his wife in Wisconsin apparently wouldn't've cared if she had known. To hear Eric and Del describe her, she probably had her legs wrapped around some dairy magnate at the moment. I wished I had known more about Carla. For all I knew, she could've been some blackmailing bitch with a penchant for making a fast million off her prey, Eric. But then, Eric was a big boy. Del had enough confidence in his brother to entrust to him all the holdings of the dairymen they represented. It was Eric's life and I had no place in overruling any decision he wanted to make. If he got stung, then so be it...Hallelujah!, Amen. I told him of a nice hotel that businessmen frequented while they were in town, (although I didn't tell him they were usually with young boys). He offered a cordial "thank you" to me and rushed off to be with his date.
I asked Johnny if he would fake depression over his "lost" lover...(that was a lie) and say he didn't want to spend the night alone. I told Del that Johnny wanted me to spend the night on his couch in case his illness prompted an attempted suicide. God!...the length queens have to go to to cover for one another!! Del bought the story and said he had learned of Eric's plans and he would go on home alone. All the while we were saying our goodbyes, Charlene had been behind stage gathering up her gear from one of the dressing rooms. She had turned down nearly a dozen proposals and date offers after she was crowned, but she had other things on her schedule. For one, she could go to the "Hat Box" for the 3:00 AM show and get over one-thousand bucks for singing one song. Working girls don't turn down that kind of easy money. She came out of the club to join Johnny and me on the sidewalk. Del, Eric, and Karla had already left. Charlene handed a small suitcase and two gowns in wardrobe bags for Johnny to take home for her. She was still on a high from being Belle of the Ball.
I wanted to thank her for the trouble she had gone to, enlisting the services of Carla. This had made the night more pleasant than I ever expected. And also, thanks to Carla, Eric had had a good time, not to mention the good time he was going to have the rest of the morning at the hotel.
"Where is she?" Charlene asked when not seeing Carla.
"Your choice was a huge success!" I said, giving her a hug. "Eric was completely entranced by her...and she was perfect...not overly gorgeous but not yet ready to be euthanized at the animal shelter."
"I'm glad you approve of my taste, Christopher." she said. "I told you there was nothing to worry about."
"I know, my love," I said, "I should've trusted you more."
"Don't despair...all is forgiven." she replied, "Now tell me where she is? She was supposed to go to the Hat Box with me."
"She's already gone." I said.
"Gone? Gone where?"
"I'm not at liberty to say, but apparently she was as taken with Eric as he was with her."
"My God! Don't tell me that they left together!!!"
"Well, sure, about 20 minutes ago."
"Where did they go...to Del's apartment?"
"No, they went off some place where they could spend some quiet time together." I said.
"Well, it won't be quiet for very long. Chris, don't tell me they've gone to a hotel!!"
"All right, I won't!"
"But they have, haven't they?"
"I told you I wouldn't tell...and I won't."
"Well, you'd better tell me in a hurry. Carla's scheduled to do a number right after mine at the Hat Box."
"You didn't tell me that she's a singer."
"She's NOT. She pantomimes Eydie Gorme records."
At long last, the light came on in my dense head. I had been so preoccupied with my impending doom, I hadn't caught on to what Charlene was getting at.
"You mean she's a drag?"
"A dollar ninety-five with gaff included...through and through!"
"JESUS CHRIST!, CHARLENE! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" I yelled.
"Not really, but it's becoming very clear to me...Now for God's sake, tell me the name of the hotel, before it's too late...for YOUR sake and for Carla's. If Eric takes her clothes off and finds a carefully folded dick hiding beneath her skirts, he's liable to throw her out the window...then he'll probably buy a gun on the street corner and come running after you."
"How could you have been so stupid!" Johnny screamed at Charlene, "Chris is our best friend and you've just ruined our friendship as well as putting his life in jeopardy."
"I thought it was just a gag. I felt for sure that Eric would be able to see through her disguise. How the fuck was I supposed to know that Eric would fall for the loony queen and want to take her home to meet Mommy or whatever name he calls his dick?"
"I sent them to the Alistair. It's close by and elegant." I said.
"You'd better rush over there and find him or all of our asses will be grasses!!!" She shouted.
The Alistair Hotel was only three blocks away. I debated whether to run on foot or try to hail a taxi on a Friday at midnight. I decided to sprint. I ran until I couldn't breathe in the cold fall air. When I arrived, there was no one in the lobby except the night clerk. I spent the next fifteen minutes begging, bribing, and threatening the life of this aging queen on the night shift and no matter what I said, he wouldn't budge with the information I was demanding from him. Almost an hour had passed. I knew it was too late as horny as Eric seemed. Carla's manhood surely had been revealed to Eric by now. Forget the fucking AIDS, I wouldn't live long enough to see if I had it. I knew better than to call Del and tell him of the comedy of errors. Del would never speak to me again, even if I was alive after Eric got through committing first degree murder on me. I finally gave up. I took a deep breath and decided to walk my final walk down the streets of Manhattan. Life was over and I was going to miss my twilight world of the city. Hell, I was going to miss life, period, for I was soon to be dead, either by Eric's hand or the disease. I continued my death march for two and one half miles until I arrived at my apartment.
Nothing mattered any longer. The mail with the unpaid bills didn't glare at me when I entered. I took the phone off the hook and I looked the place over for anything containing alcohol. I needed a drink and I didn't drink. I saw a bottle of cooking sherry in the kitchen cupboard and turned it up to down the entire bottle. I nearly choked on the salty liquid. I threw the bottle in the trash and walked defeated toward my bedroom. This would be the final night I would ever sleep there. Tomorrow, the police would come and haul my remains to Wyler's Funeral Home. Shit! I hadn't called the lawyer to finalize a will. Oh, well, I was sure that Johnny and Charlene would take charge and distribute whatever worldly and unworldly treasures I had accumulated in my short life.
I turned on the TV to provide me with some final company. Before the picture tube warmed up, I heard Ali McGraw's voice saying, "Love means never having to say you're sorry." Goddamn! I knew what that was, so I quickly flipped the channels and the first picture I saw was that of Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty being mowed down by a barrage of machine gun bullets at the ending of "Bonnie and Clyde". Oh Jesus! That was all I needed to see at such a moment. I shut the TV off and ran to turn on my CD player. Billie Holliday was singing "Gloomy Sunday" as I hit the "off" button. I went to the bathroom to look in the medicine cabinet and all I found was two boxes of Ramses and six Nytol tablets. I realized the dosage was too small the get the job done, but I took them anyway. I lay down in my bed to see if I would soon lull off to sleep and forget everything. It must've worked because I didn't awaken until 10:00 AM (Sunday). I looked to see if the front door had been broken down. It hadn't, so apparently Eric hadn't come looking for me while I slept. Somehow I had forgotten to eat supper the night before and I was hungry. I looked in the fridge and saw an unopened box of frozen waffles. There was six in the container and I thought since this was gonna be my last meal, I'd cook all six of them...two by two in my toaster. I had no syrup, so I melted some granulated sugar in the pot before burning a hole in the bottom of it. I choked down the last of the six and decided the only manly thing to do would be to call Del and tell him what had happened. At least it would give me a chance to say goodbye to him.
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"Hello?" Del answered.
"Del?"
"Yes?"
"This is Chris."
"I know the sound of your voice, silly. How is Johnny?"
"Who?...Oh, yeah...Johnny...well, he had a pretty rough night, I was up most of the morning calming him."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?"
"No, but thanks. I think I have everything under control." I said,
"I'm glad you called. I wanted to tell you what a great time I had last night."
"I'm glad, Del, REALLY glad."
"I think Eric enjoyed himself too."
"I...er...certainly hope so."
"He didn't get home until after five this morning."
"Oh?...Was he OK"
"Yes. I was still watching a movie of cable when he arrived."
"I hope he wasn't too disappointed with Carla and all. New York women are known to be rather strange until you get to know them...and sometimes more so...even after you get to see what they're really like"
"Quite the contrary. He said it was the best night of his life! Don't let on that I told you, but I think Eric slept with her...and oh, yeah, they're going out again tonight and they want you and me to go with them to some club called 'The Hat Box'."
I dropped the phone.
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(to be continued in Chapter Eight)