Rentboy

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Authors: Fyn Alexander
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glanced at the door and down the hall to their father’s study. Following their gazes,
    Fox knew that when he was not home, their whole day was spent avoiding their father even if it meant
    no food. They sat on stools at the island while Fox served them soup in cups, because they did not
    like to use utensils, and dry, whole wheat bread cut into cubes.
    While they ate, Fox began to make himself a hummus sandwich with chopped peppers, and even
    though none of them were speaking, the silence suddenly deepened. Sensing the twins on alert, Fox
    looked over at the door to see William Baillie, his hands on his hips in his usual threatening pose. A
    well-built, very dark-skinned man stood beside him. For one terrifying moment Fox thought the bloke
    was Idi Amin until he remembered the Ugandan dictator was long dead. “This is Mr. Ogwambi
    Maputwa,” Baillie said.
    “Hello,” Fox muttered.
    “That’s my son, Fox, and them are the twins,” Baillie said.
    “Identical. Very pretty.” The man looked at the twins and then at Fox. “Why do you allow him to
    wear makeup around his eyes like a girl? Is he a pansy?” the man asked and then laughed loudly.
    “He’d better not be, or I’ll kick him from here to fucking Afghanistan.” Baillie looked hard at
    Fox, his mouth twisting into a frightening sneer. “Are you a fucking queer?”
    “No, sir,” Fox said. He hated denying being gay, but what else was he going to do? Admit it and
    get his ribs broken?
    “Good. Where’s the computer?”
    “I’ll get it,” Fox said. He threw the terrified twins a look. He didn’t want to leave them alone
    with the men, but his backpack was in the hall by the door. “Shall I make you some tea and bring it to
    you in the office, sir?” he asked in a carefully respectful tone. “And I’ll bring the computer.”
    The African man grinned. “I would like some tea.”
    “Yes, do that,” Baillie said. “Three cups. There’s someone else here too.”
    The two men left, and with a look of relief on their faces the twins finished their soup and bread
    quickly while Fox set a tray for tea with milk and sugar, three cups and saucers and a plate of
    biscuits. He adjusted everything on the tray so it looked perfect.
    “Right.” Fox removed their dishes. “Get outside in the garden, and get some fresh air. It’s nice
    and warm out.” Obeying him as they always did, the twins went out into the back garden barefoot and
    ran for their trampoline. For a couple of minutes, Fox waited at the back door, watching them jump
    while smiles slowly began to blossom on their beautiful faces. I love you. I’ll take care of you
    forever. I promise. He’d better hurry with the tea before his father came back looking for him.
    In his father’s office the three men sat looking at Fox struggle with the door while carrying the
    tray and his backpack. Self-conscious and not wanting to look any stupider than he felt, Fox put the
    tray on the desk and then took out the laptop and the two memory sticks.
    “You’d better have got it right this time,” William Baillie said.
    “This was everything he had.” His hands shaking, Fox placed the laptop on the desk in front of
    his father, but Baillie slid it over to Maputwa while the other man stood at the window. “Shall I pour
    the tea, sir?” Fox asked.
    “Pour it,” Baillie said.
    “What does he know?” the African man asked, looking at Baillie as if Fox were nothing more
    than a servant.
    “Fox knows nothing. I just told him to get the computer.”
    A wide smile split the man’s face. “Fox? Is he crafty and clever like a fox?”
    “Most of the time he’s an idiot, like them moron twins.”
    You are so going to die!
    As he poured the tea, Fox watched Mr. Maputwa open the laptop. The man fiddled about for
    some time before saying, “Bingo!” and laughing loudly. “Now we are in business.” He seemed
    amused at using English expressions and laughed again.
    “Do you want tea, Dr. Howard?”

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