Read Online Above The Thunder by Renee Manfredi - Free Book Online
Authors: Renee Manfredi
Ads: Link
closed his eyes; his mouth drawn thin and hands splayed against the brick wall to steady himself. “Oh,” Jack said. “You are so gorgeous.”
He’d felt strangely calm when he thought he might be infected. There was a little part of him that was curious, that wanted to experience the disease without actually having it. When his sister got pregnant she tried to describe to him how it was. “It’s like this creature inside me is part me and part not,” Susan said. “What I think about most, though, is how rooted I feel, how closely linked I feel to Mom and Grandmother, and all the way back. It’s like this continuation.”
That’s exactly what Jack had felt when he imagined he might be infected, the lineage of all those he’d ever loved and his lovers’ loved ones, through this virus, a kind of terrible, merciless child who gestated over and over.
“You are so beautiful.” He kissed Hector’s neck, licked the sweat at his collarbone and thought of how he could get through the next day, and the one after that, without seeing him. He rested his head on Hector’s shoulder, inhaled the scent of clean laundry. Jack imagined Hector’s mother washing this shirt for her son even as Hector sweated through her good intentions. It made Jack sad for a moment, thinking of this boy’s innocent mother looking after her son in this way. Or perhaps Hector had agirlfriend. Jack shuddered. He kissed the cool bone of Hector’s nose, traced the elegant arches of his silky eyebrows.
Hector straightened his clothes. He pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to Jack. “Maybe you could give me some cab fare,” Hector said. “Maybe a little extra, too, since I got fired last week.”
Jack nodded, pulled out fifty dollars from his wallet and folded it into Hector’s hand. So, that was it. Jack knew this kind: not a prostitute, not a cruiser, but an opportunist, one who was no doubt propositioned at some point by a queer like him and learned to take advantage of it. “Let me ask you, Hector, did you like that?”
Hector shrugged. “Sure, I like. Whatever. I like you.” He smiled.
Jack stopped himself from asking when he could see him again, if he lived at home with his mother, or with a woman.
“I gotta go, man,” Hector said. “You be good.”
“Right back at you.” Jack flashed him his best Robert Mitchum grin, the one that had charmed men on both coasts.
Jack finished the cigarette and started home but thought better of it. It would be best to have a window of time before returning to Stuart.
He passed dark storefronts and a few college bars with unbearably loud music and shrill female laughter. A single malt Scotch would be nice, but he wasn’t about to go in one of these places replete with fat, cheesy-thighed college women and their breeder boyfriends.
Normally, he wasn’t this misanthropic. The baby discussion with Jane and Leila had put him in a strange mood. He was surprised, then shocked, at his own paternal longings. It was specific to Stuart, he understood now. It made sense. Stuart as a parent to his child made sense.
He walked another block. A bar at the end of the street looked promising; it was dark and relatively quiet. He peeked in the open door. Just a dozen or so people staring up at a television. A few couples here and there in booths. Two thirtyish men playing pool. He went in, ordered a double Scotch, neat, and stared up at ESPN . He drank quickly, let the alcohol smooth down the rough edges in his head, the snags his thoughts kept catching on: the beauty of Hector, his love for Stuart. It was because he loved Stuart so much that he had fucked Hector. All other men were pathways to Stuart—how could he ever explain that to anyone? That other men were a way to reclaim what he gave of himself so completely to Stuart. Itwas, he thought, precisely because his love for Stuart was so constant and abiding that Jack strayed. Or maybe it was just greed, pure and simple. Because Stuart had
He’d felt strangely calm when he thought he might be infected. There was a little part of him that was curious, that wanted to experience the disease without actually having it. When his sister got pregnant she tried to describe to him how it was. “It’s like this creature inside me is part me and part not,” Susan said. “What I think about most, though, is how rooted I feel, how closely linked I feel to Mom and Grandmother, and all the way back. It’s like this continuation.”
That’s exactly what Jack had felt when he imagined he might be infected, the lineage of all those he’d ever loved and his lovers’ loved ones, through this virus, a kind of terrible, merciless child who gestated over and over.
“You are so beautiful.” He kissed Hector’s neck, licked the sweat at his collarbone and thought of how he could get through the next day, and the one after that, without seeing him. He rested his head on Hector’s shoulder, inhaled the scent of clean laundry. Jack imagined Hector’s mother washing this shirt for her son even as Hector sweated through her good intentions. It made Jack sad for a moment, thinking of this boy’s innocent mother looking after her son in this way. Or perhaps Hector had agirlfriend. Jack shuddered. He kissed the cool bone of Hector’s nose, traced the elegant arches of his silky eyebrows.
Hector straightened his clothes. He pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to Jack. “Maybe you could give me some cab fare,” Hector said. “Maybe a little extra, too, since I got fired last week.”
Jack nodded, pulled out fifty dollars from his wallet and folded it into Hector’s hand. So, that was it. Jack knew this kind: not a prostitute, not a cruiser, but an opportunist, one who was no doubt propositioned at some point by a queer like him and learned to take advantage of it. “Let me ask you, Hector, did you like that?”
Hector shrugged. “Sure, I like. Whatever. I like you.” He smiled.
Jack stopped himself from asking when he could see him again, if he lived at home with his mother, or with a woman.
“I gotta go, man,” Hector said. “You be good.”
“Right back at you.” Jack flashed him his best Robert Mitchum grin, the one that had charmed men on both coasts.
Jack finished the cigarette and started home but thought better of it. It would be best to have a window of time before returning to Stuart.
He passed dark storefronts and a few college bars with unbearably loud music and shrill female laughter. A single malt Scotch would be nice, but he wasn’t about to go in one of these places replete with fat, cheesy-thighed college women and their breeder boyfriends.
Normally, he wasn’t this misanthropic. The baby discussion with Jane and Leila had put him in a strange mood. He was surprised, then shocked, at his own paternal longings. It was specific to Stuart, he understood now. It made sense. Stuart as a parent to his child made sense.
He walked another block. A bar at the end of the street looked promising; it was dark and relatively quiet. He peeked in the open door. Just a dozen or so people staring up at a television. A few couples here and there in booths. Two thirtyish men playing pool. He went in, ordered a double Scotch, neat, and stared up at ESPN . He drank quickly, let the alcohol smooth down the rough edges in his head, the snags his thoughts kept catching on: the beauty of Hector, his love for Stuart. It was because he loved Stuart so much that he had fucked Hector. All other men were pathways to Stuart—how could he ever explain that to anyone? That other men were a way to reclaim what he gave of himself so completely to Stuart. Itwas, he thought, precisely because his love for Stuart was so constant and abiding that Jack strayed. Or maybe it was just greed, pure and simple. Because Stuart had
Similar Books
