Read Online An Idol for Others by Gordon Merrick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gordon Merrick
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spite of your devilish look. Your mouth feels lovely. I hate girls who tease. I won’t make any bones about it if I discover I want a great deal more.”
She spoke almost gently. Her voice was an instrument of attack, but it contained infinite modulations once the ear was attuned. He looked at her throat as she spoke–a lively throat, capable of emitting venom, or honey. He wanted to put his arms around her again, but she had closed the door on that for this evening. If she had given in a little, there was still a long way to go. She made it seem worth a determined campaign.
They went to the door together, and he held her hand while he said good night. Their eyes met and briefly he saw the kindling of sexual interest in hers, but he pulled away and left her. The first step in the campaign was to make her understand that she couldn’t make all the rules.
A few days later the actors arrived; the opening night went off smoothly, and the theater took over their lives even more completely than before. Everything they had been doing acquired an importance that lifted it above drudgery. There were rehearsals all day and performances at night. The apprentices demonstrated that Walter had welded them into a highly effective unit. The girls no longer acted as if they hoped for personal attention. There were no more suggestive undertones emanating from the boys–with one exception, Philip, who continued to eye him insistently. He countered by treating him more coldly than the others, to no avail. He felt Philip’s eyes on his whenever they were in each other’s proximity. He was a romantic-looking youth with a sweep of silvery blond hair, enormous eyes, an exquisitely modeled mouth, and a breathtaking long sculpted line of chin and neck. He had a willowy body all pared down to the bone except for the delectable curve of his behind. Thoughts of Harry came unwillingly to mind. Unlike the others, Philip never wore blue jeans but always dressed eccentrically in white, which was impractical for work but made him easy to locate. Not that he would have had to search for him if he had wanted to find him. Philip was always near, and his eyes were always on him with a persistence that began to nag at him.
He found occasion to mention Philip’s name to David and had to smile his way through an extravagant parody of David’s having uncovered an unnatural passion. He couldn’t resist mentioning him to Clara and heard him dismissed as “that silly little faggot.” He had never heard the word used that way, but he understood what it meant.
He saw the white figure passing one morning when he was getting out of the station wagon. He had just collected a batch of tickets from the printer, and he checked an impulse to avoid him. There was nothing to run away from. He could face the kid and make it clear that his attentions were unwanted. He waited and watched Philip alter his course to move to him as if he were a magnet. When he reached him, Walter allowed their eyes to meet and hold to administer a rebuff. He felt his eyes widen as they sank into depths of undisguised desire. His breath caught, and there was a hollowness in the pit of his stomach and a humming in his head. He struggled to the surface, feeling as if he would gladly drown in the great pools of Philip’s eyes, and turned away, his heart pounding. He managed to give instructions about the tickets and waited until the boy left before he could breathe again.
After that, there was no point in trying to hide it. Their eyes met constantly, either near or from afar, and held for long seconds in a contact as explicit as an act of love. They exchanged only the routine words necessary for work while their eyes dedicated themselves to each other. He cursed Harry. Without Harry’s initiation, he would not know what pleasure he was being offered, wouldn’t believe what his response implied. This was worse than Harry, because he knew now where temptation might lead him. His innocence
She spoke almost gently. Her voice was an instrument of attack, but it contained infinite modulations once the ear was attuned. He looked at her throat as she spoke–a lively throat, capable of emitting venom, or honey. He wanted to put his arms around her again, but she had closed the door on that for this evening. If she had given in a little, there was still a long way to go. She made it seem worth a determined campaign.
They went to the door together, and he held her hand while he said good night. Their eyes met and briefly he saw the kindling of sexual interest in hers, but he pulled away and left her. The first step in the campaign was to make her understand that she couldn’t make all the rules.
A few days later the actors arrived; the opening night went off smoothly, and the theater took over their lives even more completely than before. Everything they had been doing acquired an importance that lifted it above drudgery. There were rehearsals all day and performances at night. The apprentices demonstrated that Walter had welded them into a highly effective unit. The girls no longer acted as if they hoped for personal attention. There were no more suggestive undertones emanating from the boys–with one exception, Philip, who continued to eye him insistently. He countered by treating him more coldly than the others, to no avail. He felt Philip’s eyes on his whenever they were in each other’s proximity. He was a romantic-looking youth with a sweep of silvery blond hair, enormous eyes, an exquisitely modeled mouth, and a breathtaking long sculpted line of chin and neck. He had a willowy body all pared down to the bone except for the delectable curve of his behind. Thoughts of Harry came unwillingly to mind. Unlike the others, Philip never wore blue jeans but always dressed eccentrically in white, which was impractical for work but made him easy to locate. Not that he would have had to search for him if he had wanted to find him. Philip was always near, and his eyes were always on him with a persistence that began to nag at him.
He found occasion to mention Philip’s name to David and had to smile his way through an extravagant parody of David’s having uncovered an unnatural passion. He couldn’t resist mentioning him to Clara and heard him dismissed as “that silly little faggot.” He had never heard the word used that way, but he understood what it meant.
He saw the white figure passing one morning when he was getting out of the station wagon. He had just collected a batch of tickets from the printer, and he checked an impulse to avoid him. There was nothing to run away from. He could face the kid and make it clear that his attentions were unwanted. He waited and watched Philip alter his course to move to him as if he were a magnet. When he reached him, Walter allowed their eyes to meet and hold to administer a rebuff. He felt his eyes widen as they sank into depths of undisguised desire. His breath caught, and there was a hollowness in the pit of his stomach and a humming in his head. He struggled to the surface, feeling as if he would gladly drown in the great pools of Philip’s eyes, and turned away, his heart pounding. He managed to give instructions about the tickets and waited until the boy left before he could breathe again.
After that, there was no point in trying to hide it. Their eyes met constantly, either near or from afar, and held for long seconds in a contact as explicit as an act of love. They exchanged only the routine words necessary for work while their eyes dedicated themselves to each other. He cursed Harry. Without Harry’s initiation, he would not know what pleasure he was being offered, wouldn’t believe what his response implied. This was worse than Harry, because he knew now where temptation might lead him. His innocence
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