THE OUTING OF SCOTT
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Chapter Fifteen.
Scott was sure he would have heard about it if his father had won the lottery. But out of the blue nevertheless, the old man had announced that his allowance was gonna be increased by $100 a week. Who knows, he may indeed have won the lottery. Scott thought that the increase was pretty generous, and welcome. He was still paying Anthony the $60 a week he had imposed on him, and this week he had to replace the two six-packs of beer he had filched from his father's stash. Then he had promised that little hustler Pablo that he would get him some decent underwear; he smiled when he thought about it. He could just eat that little bastard up.
The previous afternoon he had gone down to the seafront and soon found Pablo. He said to him "OK dude, let's go get your stuff at the men's shop you mentioned." Pablo beamed and said "What you gonna buy me?" Scott replied: "You can buy six pairs of briefs. You gonna wear them so you get to choose. As long as they don't have pictures of Mickey Mouse on them." Pablo gave him a withering look. In the event he chose three each of two types, the one type with the narrow strips on the side. They were gonna look sexy as all hell, thought Scott. Pablo seemed genuinely moved and when they exited the shop, he grabbed Scott's hand and gave it a squeeze. Scott informed him: "Next month, if you're a good boy, we can get you a track suit or sumthin. So look around OK?" Pablo assumed his naughty smile and said "What you really mean is, if I'm a bad boy huh?"
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Scott and Anthony had by now established some sort of routine on pay-day Fridays and would meet at five o'clock at the corner below Scott's house. Not much was said unless Anthony wanted to arrange a meet-up later or some such thing; he seemed to have no qualms about taking the money and appeared to consider it his rightful due. Scott wondered at first why he did not insist on Scott coming to him to deliver the dough, then he figured out that it was probably because he didn't want Julian to get a sniff of what was going on.
Paul meanwhile had become even more determined to find out what was going on between Anthony and his brother. What could there possibly be of interest between the two of them? Scott was a junior and Anthony, like him, a freshman. They didn't live in the same neighborhood. Scott had no interest in participating in sports, so there was no connection there. As far as he knew they hadn't previously even known each other; he had never seen them talking with each other at school. Chalk and cheese.
He started to surreptitiously keep an eye on Scott whenever he left the house and had now cottoned on to something which he found deeply suspicious. For the past two Fridays at the same time Scott had met up with Anthony on the corner below their house. Nothing much seemed to be said between them but Scott handed Anthony what appeared to be folded dollar notes. It was almost like he was meeting up with a dealer like you see on TV, except that Paul would have known if Scott was using, and secondly that little asshole Anthony was far too dumb to be peddling dope. Paul remembered too that Scott had on one occasion come crawling to him for a loan which he had needed by Friday of that particular week. He decided to confront Scott.
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That evening after supper Paul went through to Scott's room and, after a perfunctory tap on his door, walked in. Jesus, thought Scott who was reading on his bed, he always does that - just walks in. "You busy dude?" asked Paul.
"Not really." replied Scott. "What's up?"
Paul continued: "I know you think I'm a snoop and you are probably right. Although I would say I'm just an inquisitive guy. But there is something I wanna get cleared up. I've seen you on a few occasions recently meet up with that guy Anthony who is in my grade. Now I don't need to explain why I think that is pretty weird - you know, why you would have any reason to see or fraternize with a younger kid. The weirdest part though is that you appear to be meeting him regularly at the same time each week; it is never for more than a minute or two and you then hand sumthin over to him. I think it's dough. Now that little squirt couldn't possibly be a dealer, so I'm rulin that out. But I'm almost positive you are paying him off for somethin else".
Scott was going red in the face, partly from the fact that Paul was right, and partly from anger. Why the fuck couldn't people just leave him alone and stop interfering in his life? It was like he had to answer to everyone for his actions, even Paul, for pete's sake.
Paul put up his hand. "Just calm down dude. I don't wanna really interfere. What you do is your affair as far as I'm concerned. But this whole fucking thing is pretty sinister and I'm a little worried that it might be somethin that could affect the rest of the family. Especially me at school for instance. Tell me about it, and if I can, I'll help." He laughed: "Even lend you some dough. At a suitable rate of interest, of course!" Despite everything, Scott smiled.
"So?
Scott wondered if he could really trust Paul. If he confessed to him that he was gay, could he be really sure he wouldn't go straight to the rents and spill the beans? Paul had always been prone to tell tales, especially if he could gain some advantage over Scott in the rents' eyes, but he was no longer a kid. And, if Scott was truly honest with himself, he knew that this whole can of worms, him being gay and paying extortion money, etc, was likely to blow up in his face one of these days. THEN it would look really bad and have worse repercussions. For better or worse, he decided to take the plunge.
"Paul. I'm gay. You are the first person I've come out to."
Scott saw Paul's face darken. Paul raised his hand and said: "Stop. I don't wanna hear about it. You know what I think about homos. Cum buckets, all of 'em. So this business with Anthony is related to that?"
"Yeah. He met some guy who told him I was gay. So he confronted me and said unless I paid him hush money every week, he would put you in the picture."
"And you fell for that? Jesus, you are dumber than I thought. OK. Here's what we will do. I'll take care of Anthony. Scare the shit out of him. I wouldn't want to burden the rents with such fantastic news, however, so for the time being you can rest easy on that score. Although you don't deserve it. As far as school goes, you better keep your fuckin nose clean. I don't wanna hear that you are suckin guys off in the boys' bathroom or some such shit. You hear me?"
Scott looked down and nodded. "Thanks Paul."
Paul responded: "Any sign of more trouble Scott, at school or anywhere else, you come to me pronto. You hear me?
Scott nodded once more. Paul walked out slamming the door.
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Having got Anthony's number from Scott, Paul called him.
"Anthony? It's Paul here, Scott's bro. Dude, you and I need to have a little chat. Can we make it like now?"
There was a little delay then Anthony said: "Errrr. OK, Paul. You gonna come down here or what?"
"Yeah. I can do that. You live in that large apartment complex, right? I've got my so-called car so I'll pick you up outside your place in about 20 minutes."
Anthony was waiting when Paul pulled up and jumped in when Paul leaned over and unlocked the door. Paul said: "We can go and have a coke or sumthin if you like." Anthony said "Sure" so Paul drove down to the seafront and parked at a drive-in place.
"Listen Anthony I'm gonna get straight to the point here. I know all about what's been goin on between you and Scott. It just proves what I thought all along; you are one nasty piece of shit." Anthony said nothing and sat tight. "Now listen carefully dude, this extortion kick of yours stops this minute, hear? That is a serious crime dude and if this business were to get out of hand, I wouldn't be above goin to the cops. And if you think you can retaliate by spreading rumors about Scott, then think again. If you so much as open that fuckin mouth of yours, I'll let the world know who Scott has been foolin around with, namely you. Two can play that game. And I wouldn't be above getting some muscle and have them beat the shit out of you on top of it. Do we understand each other?"
Anthony nodded and responded: " OK! OK already! Take me home."
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Julian had been standing at the window of his apartment when he saw Anthony scuttling across the parking lot and a couple of minutes later being picked up by some young guy in a beat up apology for a car. That's interestin, thought Julian. He often kept an eye on the goings on in the complex; you never knew when some knowledge of what people were up to could come in handy. Didn't Aristotle or Hitler or some dude like that say that knowledge is power? Or was it the other way around? Who gave a fuck anyway. Tomorrow he would put Anthony on the spot and listen to his lame explanations. Happy days! Nevertheless he decided to give Anthony a call.
"Hi Julian." said Anthony when he answered the call.
"Hi Ant. What's up with you man. I been so fuckin bored sittin here twiddling my thumbs. I was gonna jack off but didn't have the energy. You been out tonite?"
"Uh yeah, just for a bit. Some business guy who was tryin to sell me somethin. But I gave him the heave ho."
"Yep. I really don't know how they get one's details. Probably on Facebook or some shit like that."
"Yeah. You probly right. One evening some dude called me and wanted to know if I was lookin for a slave. Can you fuckin imagine?"
Julian laughed. "I hope you gave him my number. I am."
"Don't joke dude.
This guy was serious. I told him I couldn't afford one, so he said, no problem, he's free."
Julian laughed. That fuckin Anthony! he thought.
"OK Ant. Have a good one. See ya tomorrow maybe."
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The following day was the last one before Anthony's old girl returned from her dirty break with that new boy-friend of hers. Jesus, what an asshole that guy was, thought Anthony. But then his mother was no great prize either. Anthony was kinda chastened by his encounter with Paul; it was not so much that Paul was some big deal able to throw his weight around, but Anthony recognized that he held the high ground on the matter at issue. OK, so he was gonna have to forfeit the $60 Scott had been paying him but he had managed before so no doubt he would again. (Suddenly he remembered that he had the ongoing instalments to meet for the new TV. Fuck it!)
Of more immediate concern to him was to repair his relationship with Scott. That was important; he enjoyed the feeling he got bossing him around and he wanted to forestal Julian's inevitable interrogation. So if the situation could be restored minus just the $60 per week payment all would be well.
He called Scott and told him he would like to have a chat. Scott said sure; why didn't he come around to his place and he could filch a coupla beers from the old man's supply. He strolled up to Scott's house and found that Scott had the place to himself.
Anthony informed Scott he couldn't stay for long as he had to clean up the apartment before his old girl got back the following day. Scott indicated that he would be willing to help (a real good sign for the future!!) but he said Nah! There wasn't that much to do anyway.
Anthony continued: "Listen dude, me and Paul had a chat yesterday and he said that the $60 a week was a problem for you. I told him I had decided to scrap the whole idea anyway so we agreed on that. Anthony laughed and informed Scott: "It is gonna cost you a six-pack of beer though."
"No problem." replied Scott. "Thanks Anthony."
Before Anthony left, he asked Scott: "So all is cool between us then dude?" Scott nodded yeah.
As Anthony strolled home he was real pleased with himself, and at the aplomb with which he had handled things. It was still early so maybe he could go over to Julian's place, relax and with luck enjoy a beer there.
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Paul had made a point of avoiding Scott at breakfast that morning. I mean there was no doubt that Scott was weird but he had never really considered that he was queer. He knew that it was a common thing and that these days those guys were becoming more and more open and vociferous about it.
But, Jesus, how the fuck could somethin like like infect his own family. There was only one dude among their numerous cousins that he had ever thought might be a homo; he was 22 and a bit fucking precious in Paul's view, but amazingly news had recently filtered through that he had become engaged. The old girl had been really pissed when Paul had said: "Really? Whose the lucky guy? Do we know him?" Paul had a little laugh when he thought back on it.
So, Scott was one of "them." If he were honest, Paul realized that he truly didn't give a fuck. As long as he didn't flaunt it at school, that is. If Scott were to do that, he swore by jeezuz he would beat the shit out of him.
The thought suddenly crossed his mind: if Scott was gay, didn't that mean he sucked cock? Didn't they all? He banished the thought and decided to call Cindy, this new chick at school who had been giving him the eye.
To be continued...............