Ian made his way back into the building and maneuvered himself back to his table. His drink was empty and his friends still gone. He tried to get Blue’s attention, but the crowd around the bar was too thick. El Toro had started, so he sat down to just enjoy his old band while waiting for a waiter to stop by or he was able to get to the bar.
The stage was on the other side of the dance floor, which was between the booths and the stage. Ian had a great view from the closest edge of the floor. He could see the crowd, including both Wella and Blake enjoying themselves, and El Toro leading with a song he didn’t recognize. When it ended the crowd clapped, and Marc at the center mike thanked them with the standard cover band thank you.
“For those of you, who don’t know, we call ourselves El Toro and we wanna thank you for coming out tonight, pardon the pun.” He pointed to fingers out to the crowd. Several got the very bad joke and laughed. “We’ve been together for quite a while, and most of us are originally from the coal mines of Virginia.” He started strumming on his guitar a little.
“We do a lot of original material these days, but we also find that a lot of you enjoy some familiar tunes as well. Now we like to think our days as a cover band are long gone, but we always use our final set of the night to do some old stuff that we still love playing and hope you still enjoy, too.”
Some people in the bar started cheering. Ian cheered along, he was excited to hear them do some stuff that maybe he hadn’t heard in a while. He was looking forward to the comfort.
Marc held his hands up to get everyone quiet. “And we boys in the band have a special treat. It seems our original lead singer is in the house tonight, and if every body gets loud enough, maybe we can persuade him to come up here and do the set with us.”
Ian looked for the exits, but the crowd was stirring, looking around to see who the guy was, probably hoping he was some hot rock dude or TV star…were they in for a let down.
Marc kept going, “Many of you haven’t heard the name yet, but believe me you will, and if you’ve never heard this man sing you are in for a treat, plus ladies he’s pretty easy on the eyes.” Women, and some of the men, cheered. “Put your hands together and welcome to the stage Mister…Ian…Justyn...”
It was too late; a spotlight from somewhere hit Ian in the face. The crowd started clapping and somewhere faintly he heard Blake scream “Go for it, Baby Doll!” The people on the dance floor parted and allowed Ian to the stage. A few members of the band shook his hand and welcomed him with huge smiles on their faces.
Ian was about to wet his pants. He noticed a man standing at the foot of the stage holding a familiar colored liquid. Ian asked him, “Scotch?”
The man nodded his head. He reached for it and took it out of his hand. “Can I have a swallow?”
“Sure”, the man smiled, “any time.”
Ian put the drink to his lips and nodded thank you when recognition hit him. The man’s curly hair was unforgettable. It was the stranger from the balcony across the yard.
Ian knocked the drink back in one gulp and handed the glass back. The man leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Kellen, the name’s Kellen…Ian” and smiled.
Ian stepped back up on the stage and looked across the dance floor. “Blue? Where’s Blue?”
He heard Blue answer and wave off in a distance. “Over here…”
“Bring this man a scotch…and a double for me.”
“You got it!” The stranger on the edge of the dance floor smiled and mouthed thank you.
Ian turned to the crowd, took the mike and said, “Now let’s sing.” They cheered as an old familiar seventies rock tune began. He didn’t know if it was the third scotch kicking in, fear, adrenaline or a combination thereof but he had a blast, and he didn’t think he was half bad.
They did some old Rolling Stones stuff, a few Bee Gees tunes and a couple of things Ian barely remembered but muddled through some how. He even managed to get through “Livin La Vida Loca” which he’d only sung in the shower before.
Between each song he would thank the crowd and start to step down. The crowd would yell ‘more more’ until it even got old to Ian. He just stopped trying to leave and started turning to Marc and asking what was next. Ian started to recognize the old set and a couple of times even remembered, either that or the band was following his lead.
He had long since lost the jacket and either unbuttoned most of his shirt or popped the buttons as he gyrated his pelvis and wiggled his rear for the crowd. The band played for forty-five minutes and Ian was about to drop. Fortunately that was just about all the repertoire he knew. He thanked the group and introduced each band member like the old days.
Marc slipped back up and put his arm around Ian’s shoulders. “What’d I tell you? Isn’t he fantastic? Mr. Ian Justyn!”
The crowd practically tore the roof off the place. “Now we got one more song for you.” The crowd was vocal about disappointment. “But it’s something slow and sexy. So guys grab your girl, or girl grab your guys…aw hell whoever grab whatever you’re in the mood for…” he shot a look at Ian. “And just to prove how amazing this man right here is, he’s gonna sing something he’s never seen before.”
“Huh?” Ian almost fainted.
“This is something the band’s been working on and we’ve waited till just the right time, and tonight we think the time is right.” Hooper produced a music stand with some sheet music on it and a stool. He forced Ian down on the stool and placed the stand in front of him.
Hooper to him, “Oh god, Ian, this is gonna blow everyone’s mind. Just look it over, you’ll be fine.”
“Shit” was all Ian could say. Hooper kissed him on the forehead and several ladies and guys cheered. Hooper pointed to the music and flipped through the pages.
“See it’s easy. Just be you, man. It’s perfect.”
Ian nodded is head in drunken fear and looked at the sheet music. It was easy and the band started playing. He said, “Wait! Wait!” The band stopped and the crowd giggled.
“On the bridge, take it up half a step and then follow me.” Marc and Hooper high fived and the band started again. He waited until just the right moment and cautiously lifted the mic to his lips and began to sing.
The melody was simple, but the words powerful and vivid. Ian found himself lost in the words about hopes and dreams and what might just happen if he took a chance and held on. When the refrain came he stood and walked toward the crowd. They had stopped dancing and were mesmerized by Ian’s voice and the conviction crying from his heart that things had been rough, and he didn’t think it was possible to go on “Until Now”.
When the bridge hit and Ian’s voice soared, the crowd soared with him. The final refrain kicked in an entire octave higher, and is voice easily rose both begging and assuring. Everyone forgot there were other people in the room because they all knew that Ian Justyn was singing only to them.
Ian pulled back and quietly hit the final bars almost in a whisper, on perfect pitch to the silently beating hearts of one, “I never dreamed the world would come true…until now.”
There was a good five seconds of silence. Only Ian’s breathing could be heard and suddenly the place went absolutely wild. Ian and the band stood humbly, tears streaming down Ian’s face as the crowd loved him more than he had ever been loved before.
In the back of the pandemonium, a lone figure stood, tears of their own covering their face, saying to no one who could hear, “He got the voice, too.” And then they were gone.
The next few minutes were a blur. Ian stepped out into the crowd to get back to his table. He was kissed, his hand shook and his ass tweaked. Phone numbers were shoved in his pockets and he was propositioned so many times his head spin.
And Ian just wanted to go home. The scotch was more than he’d had in years. His head was reeling and the room spinning. He looked for his friends. Wella finally rushed up and bear hugged him.
“Holy Shit, Ian…holy shit!” He pushed away from her.
“Look you and Blake stay and have a great time. I need to go home.”
She looked concerned, “You okay?”
He nodded, “Fine, just a little too much booze and way too much energy. I’ll send the limo back.” Ian kissed her cheek. “Love to Blake.”
Someone else grabbed him and propositioned him, he wasn’t even sure what sex the person was, but they sure weren’t letting go. He felt a pair of hands pry them apart, and heard a voice he recognized.
“You okay, Ian?” It was Blue.
“Need some air, buddy. Just get me out of here.” Blue put his arm around him and helped Ian outside. Ian wasn’t sure how long it took, but he heard Blue push a few people off and tell someone to call his driver. He stood with him for a moment while the fresh air hit him. Ian felt his knees buckle a little, but he managed to focus.
“You gonna be okay there?” Blue asked.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be fine now, just a little over whelmed.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Your driver is on the way. Just stay right here, okay.” Blue turned to go in, but turned back. “I usually don’t do this, and my girl friend would kill me if she found out, but I just can’t help it. You were just too hot!” He scribbled his number down on a piece of paper and stuck it down the front of Ian’s pants. “I don’t care what you are into. Call me. Any time.” Blue then disappeared inside the club.
Ian bent over and put his hands on his thighs and took a deep breath of night air. Another familiar voice came from behind him. “Sir, are you okay?”
Ian waved off the voice. He didn’t want more hands on him. Ian just wanted to go home. But the voice insisted.
“Mr. Justyn, sir, your jacket.” The jacket was thrust gently under in his sight line. Ian eased up and took it.
“Oh, thank you…” and when he recognized the face, “Ripley”
“You are very welcome sir….anything else sir?”
Rubbing his sore abdomen, “Not unless you can recommend a good gym, I am so out of shape.”
Ripley smiled. “You looked just fine…Ian.” Ripley opened his wallet and took out a card as Ian thought “Oh God”.
He handed it to Ian. “A friend of mine works at this gym. Tell ‘em I told you to call, they’ll set you up.”
Ian accepted the card. “Thank you, I just might do that.” The chauffeur arrived and opened the door for Ian. He slopped himself in as soberly as he could, doing quite an admirable job. As the limo pulled off he pushed the down button on the window and drifted off to sleep.
“We’re here.” He awoke to the chauffeur standing in front of the open car door. He had slept the whole drive home. He thanked her politely, tipped her generously and asked her if she would mind going back and waiting for the others should they need a lift. She informed him it was her pleasure and was gone.
Ian found himself still a little tipsy and standing in his front yard. He wandered slowly to the front door, new jacket dragging like Linus’s blanket behind him. He didn’t bother to turn the lights on. He just threw the jacket on the couch, dropped out of his shoes and headed to the bedroom stairs.
He sprawled across the bed for a few minutes, trying to focus on a spot that wasn’t spinning. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry, after all he had turned a room full of people on but he had still came home alone.
Ian reached in his pockets and pulled out bits of wadded up papers and cards. He thought about leafing through them and picking one at random. He decided just to undress and forget it.
When he stood he felt something strange in his sexy new boxer briefs. He reached down and found a crumpled bar tab. It was blank on one side and on the other he could make out “Call me for anything, Blue” with a cell phone number. He chuckled to himself, wadded it up and landed it in the trash with no net.
Ian reached for the remote and opened both the drapes and the glass doors and strolled out to the balcony. He stumbled carefully down the steps to the underpinning by the downstairs back entrance. He pressed an almost hidden button and the pool under lighting snapped on.
“There,” he said proudly to the stars, “I learned something.”
He sighed and walked back up the steps and just sat on the floor, feet on the last step. He reached for a smoke, lit it up and inhaled. When he exhaled he leaned back on one arm and stared straight up and began to count the stars.
He didn’t see the figure watch him for a moment. Nor did he see that figure slip deep into the shadows and then disappear.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Vignette #26: Public
Ian hadn’t been sure what to expect inside. Tippy had told him that since it was a mixed group that she chose a place for everyone, Tippy long hand for what Ian had heard called a “bi-bar”.
She explained to him that the bar was divided in half, the bar on the right side was for straights and the bar on the left side was for the gays. There would be tables and chairs for everyone in their prospective, but the booths down the middle were for those who hadn’t made up their minds or just didn’t want to commit.
He had to admit that he expected something dark and sleazy, but this wasn’t like anything he had imagined. While the lighting was dark, the room and the carpet itself were light colored; all whites and gold. Everything was pristine, no smoke or the sound of shoes sticking to the floor as you walked across.
Ian panicked for a moment when a woman came up to him and said, “Oh yes, Mr. Justyn. Right this way, everything has been arranged for you.” He wondered which side Tippy had arranged for him to be on. He wanted to head straight for the straight side, but didn’t want Blake to feel uncomfortable or left out.
As he looked around the room, he couldn’t really determine which side had the straight people and which side had the gay. He actually found it quite relieving and was pleased that not only were they seated in the center booths, but at a place where he could watch the comings and comings. He laughed a little at what a voyeur he was becoming.
“What’s so funny?” Wella asked him.
“Nothing” he shook it off.
Drinks and “munchies” were immediately supplied for them without asking. Either Tippy had made good guesses or these people were just damned good. Wella and Blake began chirping and chatting and Ian enjoyed himself taking in the action of the room.
There was a middle aged couple chatting with a young muscle guy against the wall. Ian assumed they were trying to talk him into a three way. To the other side, he spotted a guy from one of the soaps on his own network making time with a redhead who seemed to be more interested in her own reflection in the mirror behind the soap stud.
The place was packed, but not so crowded that you couldn’t enjoy yourself. It was early, but Blake had informed him that they kept a count to keep the room to a minimum. At the peak hours of the night, even the people on the list couldn’t get in until someone left.
Blake and Wella were busy trying not to make spectacles of them selves pointing out the “names” in the club.
“Look over there!” Blake tried not to squeal. “No, don’t look. Okay now look. It’s Saxon Allen!” He flopped his arms across the tabletop and feigned a swoon. “I luuuuuuuv her!”
“Well, you got her attention.” Wella sipped her spritzer. “She’s looking this way.”
“Oh ma’god.” Blake froze. “I’ll die if she looks at me. I’ll just die!”
The trio turned their heads to the classic and classy blond bombshell standing by the bar with a hand on her hip. She looked intently, and then smiled coyly.
“She is looking this way.” Blake tried to whisper. “Saxon Allen, is looking this way.”
“Oh butch up, Blake.” Ian said placing his scotch firmly on the wood. “She’s just a human being, not the Goddess of Human Kind.”
“Maybe not in bars you go to…” Blake mumbled.
“Well, get ready to worship, Blake.” Wella sipped her drink again. “She seems to be headed this way.”
And there was no doubt. Saxon Allen had picked up her wine and was headed straight for them. Blake was trying not to hyperventilate. Wella was busy telling Ian that she was the front runner for this year’s Best Actress Oscar while trying to look like she wasn’t saying anything, and Ian just stood up to face her.
The paparazzi darling sauntered right up, placed her drink on the table and calmly said, “Someone never returns my phone calls.”
Ian looked at her. “Why would I deign to return your phone calls, Kleenex Girl?”
The blond threw back her head and laughed, then grabbed Ian by the velvet lapels and laid one on him. They lost track of how many times it had happened that night, but once again Blake and Wella were dumbfounded, mouths open, shocked beyond belief. Ian was too busy returning the kiss to notice.
Saxon finally broke the kiss and pushed Ian away. “I mean it Ian, I’m hurt. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“It was just two, not a thousand, and I kept meaning to, but I keep losing my phone.”
She gave him a look of disbelief. Blake found his tongue. “True. I have to have it replaced for him at least once a week. They won’t even give us insurance anymore.”
“And I keep meaning to have him pick up one of those raspberry things…” Ian tried to explain.
“Blackberry.” Wella shot in.
“Blackberry,” Ian took the correction. “Aren’t they bigger and harder to misplace?”
Saxon giggled. “You are such a dork!” She took a breath. “Who are your friends?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ian introduced them. She looked a little hesitant to let Blake touch her hand, but he managed to not urinate on himself.
“And where’s Clare? She’s not going to jump out from under the table and claw my eyes out, is she?”
“Don’t worry,” He motioned for her to join them. “I had that fungus removed.”
“It’s not going to grow back again, is it?”
“Not this time. Several villages had to be sacrificed, and a few heavy rounds of nuclear anti-toxins were used liberally, but that unsightly stain has finally been permanently removed.” Ian took her hand as she seated herself beside him. He looked around a bit. “And where, pray tell, is your flavor of the month?”
Saxon rolled her eyes, “Under one of the tables for all I know. BUT, the movie is open and doing well, so after tonight, I am no longer obligated to see and be seen with that unsightly stain again.” She looked over at Wella. “I hate romantic comedies. You either get paired with a with a big ego and bad breath or a big hunk who really just wants to wear your panties.”
Blake patted her hand. “You and Julia Roberts have so much in common.”
“Why do you even bother?” Ian asked.
She smiled. “As I’m sure you are quickly learning, the social setting is where all the seeds of the really big deals are planted. Being a team player in public, is what it’s all about.”
“That’s what I’m told.” Ian said.
Suddenly a voice whined toward them. “Saxy, I’m bored!” slurred their way from a big muscle of a man.
Saxon looked at Ian and rolled her eyes. Ian turned to her “Saxy?”
“Better than Kleenex girl.” She kissed him quickly and stood up. “It was so nice to meet y’all.” She put her hands to her lips and giggled. “Okay, a little too much wine. Now are you going to call me? I’m keeping my promise!”
“I’d almost forgotten about that.” Ian smiled.
“No you didn’t and neither did I.” She leaned over and kissed him again. “Call me or I’ll have the Clare monster reanimated!”
“Call the office.” Blake popped in. “I’ll make sure you get through.”
Saxon smiled. “Actually…”
“I see the wheels turning.” Ian teased.
“I’m a natural blond.” She giggled. “I can’t help it.” Saxon put her arm under her whiny, weaving attractive flavor of the month’s arm. “Everyone, this is Jason Dunning. Jason these are actual human beings.”
“Hello, humans.” The man tried not to slur. “You may remember me as Hot Steel, from my WWF days.”
Saxon rolled her eyes again and tugged on the man. “Com’mon, let’s get you out of here.” They bobbled away, Saxon turning her head at the last minute and mouthed “Love you.”
The trio couldn’t help but hear her chide him. “Dammit Jason, you have semen on your chin. How am I supposed to be an effective beard if you keep getting drunk and blowing strangers in the john…”
Ian watched her go, smiling; at last a good memory. When he returned to reality Wella and Blake were both staring at him. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you…knew Saxon Allen?” Wella asked.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Not important?” Blake practically had a hissy. “She is the actress right now.”
“I know.” Ian said. “But what does an old friend…”
“She looked liked more than a friend.” Wella looked him straight in the eye.
“We went to college together.”
“Oh come on…” Blake demanded. “You cannot tell me you don’t find that woman hot and sexy. I’m a flaming queen and I’d do her in a heartbeat.”
Ian laughed. “Sorry, it’s just hard to think of someone that way when you’ve seen her in your boxer shorts throwing up on herself.”
“So you have…” Wella started to say but Ian cut her off.
“Long story…not your business, and no we’ve never…” Ian just let it drop. “We’re old college buddies, nothing more.”
Wella and Blake looked at each other and smiled. “Uh huh.” Blake nudged Wella.
“But maybe now that this Clare monster is out of the picture…” Wella hinted.
“Oh please.” Ian sat straight up. “She’s like a sister.”
“Well,” Blake pushed the umbrella aside and sipped from his drink. “You are Southern.”
“Not that Southern!” Ian looked at them both. “Now I love you both, but let’s make a pact. I will not pimp for you and you sure as hell won’t pimp for me.”
Wella threw up her hands. “Fine. Just thought I’d make sure that you understood a possible opportunity. It’s my job.”
“Your job is to help me find and make opportunities for HRT Studios, not to commit incest on a sticky table at a night club.”
“This table’s not sticky.” Blake wiped his hand across it and looked at Wella. “Do you think this table is sticky?”
Wella slapped at Blake’s hand. “That’s not what I was reminding you of…dork…Miss Saxon is rumored to be in the process of starting her own production company. It’s the natural next step for her, and should she actually win that Oscar, every non-old college friend in town will be fighting for a piece of her action…if you get my drift.”
“Oh…” Ian got the point. “Sorry.” He frowned. “But I hate taking advantage of old friendships just to further my own career.”
“Ian, you are so adorkable.” Wella smiled. “That’s your job.”
Ian hadn’t realized how quickly he had knocked back his scotch, his sipping alcohol. He tried to get the attention of a waiter, but finally gave up and decided just to go to the bar and get one. He asked his cohorts if they needed another. They said they were fine but he would get them another any way, just so he didn’t feel like a lush.
He stood up and was hit with the dilemma of which side of the bar to go to. He looked to his left and then to his right, when Blake grabbed his hand and said, “Just go get a drink, you damned chicken.”
Ian bent over and smiled at him, “Be careful Baby Doll or Daddy will have to spank!” Ian hoisted himself and walked to the side that seemed to have an opening at the nearest bartender.
He was able to walk right up to where a bartender immediately said, “Yes, may I help you?”
Ian ordered a Chivas with water, a white wine spritzer and “one of those thick pink things with the umbrella in it”. The bartender laughed and began to put together the concoctions.
Another bartender appeared and leaned against the bar. “Hi, may I help you Mr. Justyn?”
It was happening a little too much and he was beginning to get paranoid. “Do I know you?” he asked.
The man leaned in a little further dropping his voice to a low suggestive tone, “No, but if you'd like to, I get off at two.”
Ian leaned in closer imitating the man’s tone and said, “And you’ll be getting off alone.”
The other bartender brushed the guy physically aside, and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, sir, and I’ll bring these over to you.”
“Thank you.” Ian turned to head back to his seat noticing that Blake had already started up a conversation with another man about his age and had joined him at his table. As he slid back into the booth he said to Wella, “So we’ve been abandoned.”
“Yes,” she said, “they grow up so fast.”
A rather attractive man leaned over to Wella and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wondered if you would give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?”
Wella looked at Ian and smiled. He waved his hands at her, mouthing “Go! Go!”
Suddenly, Ian found himself at the most exclusive club in the country totally exclusive. It didn’t help that the bartender brought a tray moments after Wella “boogied” away and began putting three drinks in front of him. He looked up at the bartender and said, “I do this so well, don’t I?”
The bartender smiled and assured him, “You’ll be just fine. Mr. Justyn.”
“Okay, stop! Stop!” Ian begged, “It’s getting creepy. How the hell does everyone know me? I swear I’ve never seen any of you before in my life!”
The bartender looked at him questionably. “You honestly don’t know?”
“No and it’s driving me crazy.”
“We are all required to read the trade magazines, sir, and are all given a list with pictures of anyone who is on the list for our shifts. We all know that you are Ian Justyn, a new development executive at HRT network, that you come from a small market affiliate where you produced several news programs with ratings spike big enough to gather the attention of the network itself in less than five years, and you are also one of the youngest execs at that network ever.” He swiped a small spot of water from the table with a napkin and put it on his tray. “You are currently the only development executive in the country under thirty.”
“I’m kind of impressed.” Ian looked at the guy.
“You are the talk of the town right now, Mr. Justyn.”
“I was talking about the service technique, not me.”
“Get used to it, Mr. Justyn.” He said as he accepted several bills to cover the drinks including a nice tip.
“Well, they are talking today, tomorrow they may be laughing.”
“That’s the name of the game, Mr. Justyn.”
“It’s all a little disconcerting…and please, call me Ian—and you can spread that around.”
He smiled, “Would it make you feel better if you knew my name?”
Ian was genuinely grateful. “Yes, yes it would.”
“Blue, my name is Blue Richards.”
“It’s nice to meet you Blue.” Ian put out his hand which the waiter took and shook. “I’m Ian Justyn, dork of the hour.”
“Small world,” Blue said. “Well, I’d better get back to my post, hope to chat with you later. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” Ian said as he watched his new friend walk away. “Hey, Blue, is there a place I can catch a smoke?”
“Just go past the rest rooms over there, there’s a door at the end of the hallway. We have an overhang set up out back. Don’t worry about your table; it’s yours until you leave.”
“Thanks.” Ian tried to find his friends to tell him he was stepping out for a smoke, but gave up quickly and headed for a Marlboro. He found the rest room, slipped out the last door into the open air and pulled out a smoke.
He immediately recognized the big hulk of a man standing in the shadows, hands in the pockets of his blue slacks, biceps bulging and pecs straining the fabric of an expensive white shirt. Ian pointed at him and said, “Ripley, right?”
The man smiled at being remembered, “Yes, sir.” He pulled a hand out of his trouser pockets and flicked a lighter holding it out for Ian.
Ian cupped his hands around it, puffed until the cherry blazed and said, “Thank you.” He exhaled and looked at the man. “You’re not following me are you?”
“No, sir, we switch around the five stations every hour. Helps us follow the crowd and keep things in check. You are actually following me.”
“Sorry, I’ll try to not make a habit of it.” Ian said.
Ripley smiled a little. “Doesn’t bother me at all, sir.”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what to make of that. He turned and busied himself surveying the smoking crowd, noticing a woman with long dark hair that looked vaguely familiar. She had on a red halter-top dress cut down to there.
Ian noticed her returning his gaze, and he thought “Hmm, maybe I came to the right place.” He was just about to step a little toward her to gage her response when he heard his name called.
“Ian?”
He turned to see another face he recognized. “Marc?” They quickly ran together and embraced, slapping each other on the back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Marc asked.
“Well, apparently you aren’t required to read the trades.” Ian joshed.
“Huh?” Marc said
They quickly caught up. Marc Torrey and Ian had been in a band together during and for a few years after college. They played what they laughingly called the “Knoxpatch circuit”, a few minor clubs in the Knoxville and Gatlinburg area. They had gained a little following but Ian left the band when he got the job in Bristol. They had lost contact.
It turns out that most of the band was still together, although they were now called “El Toro”. They had made their way across country and were the house band for the weekend at Open Fields.
They smoked their cigarettes and caught up on old times. “Hey, you got to sing with us next set, Ian.” Marc interjected out of the blue.
Ian shook his head, “I am strictly a shower singer these days.”
“Oh come on dude, you gotta do at least one song with us. Who knows, you might get discovered.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll make you change your mind…hey you still with Clair?” He asked.
“Oh God, no. She’s is Bristol, torturing some other fool I guess. What about you? You still with Angela?”
“Oh yeah, made an honest woman of her four years ago. We got twin boys, 19 months old.”
“Congratulations man.”
About that time, the door swung open and this time Marc’s name was called. “There you are. We need to get ready and start the next set.”
Marc turned to the man in the door, “Hey Hooper, look whose here!” Marc presented Ian and the two hugged and slapped each other on the back. “Hey, dude, wanna chat, but we got get our asses back inside. See you later. You comin, Torrey?”
Marc squished a freshly lit smoke on the ground, “Yeah, yeah be right there.” He turned back to Ian, “You coming back in to hear us?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in as soon as I finish this one” Ian waved his freshly lit Marlboro in the air.
“Cool”, Marc disappeared.
Ian inhaled is smoke deeply and looked to find the woman, but the red dressed vixen was gone.
She explained to him that the bar was divided in half, the bar on the right side was for straights and the bar on the left side was for the gays. There would be tables and chairs for everyone in their prospective, but the booths down the middle were for those who hadn’t made up their minds or just didn’t want to commit.
He had to admit that he expected something dark and sleazy, but this wasn’t like anything he had imagined. While the lighting was dark, the room and the carpet itself were light colored; all whites and gold. Everything was pristine, no smoke or the sound of shoes sticking to the floor as you walked across.
Ian panicked for a moment when a woman came up to him and said, “Oh yes, Mr. Justyn. Right this way, everything has been arranged for you.” He wondered which side Tippy had arranged for him to be on. He wanted to head straight for the straight side, but didn’t want Blake to feel uncomfortable or left out.
As he looked around the room, he couldn’t really determine which side had the straight people and which side had the gay. He actually found it quite relieving and was pleased that not only were they seated in the center booths, but at a place where he could watch the comings and comings. He laughed a little at what a voyeur he was becoming.
“What’s so funny?” Wella asked him.
“Nothing” he shook it off.
Drinks and “munchies” were immediately supplied for them without asking. Either Tippy had made good guesses or these people were just damned good. Wella and Blake began chirping and chatting and Ian enjoyed himself taking in the action of the room.
There was a middle aged couple chatting with a young muscle guy against the wall. Ian assumed they were trying to talk him into a three way. To the other side, he spotted a guy from one of the soaps on his own network making time with a redhead who seemed to be more interested in her own reflection in the mirror behind the soap stud.
The place was packed, but not so crowded that you couldn’t enjoy yourself. It was early, but Blake had informed him that they kept a count to keep the room to a minimum. At the peak hours of the night, even the people on the list couldn’t get in until someone left.
Blake and Wella were busy trying not to make spectacles of them selves pointing out the “names” in the club.
“Look over there!” Blake tried not to squeal. “No, don’t look. Okay now look. It’s Saxon Allen!” He flopped his arms across the tabletop and feigned a swoon. “I luuuuuuuv her!”
“Well, you got her attention.” Wella sipped her spritzer. “She’s looking this way.”
“Oh ma’god.” Blake froze. “I’ll die if she looks at me. I’ll just die!”
The trio turned their heads to the classic and classy blond bombshell standing by the bar with a hand on her hip. She looked intently, and then smiled coyly.
“She is looking this way.” Blake tried to whisper. “Saxon Allen, is looking this way.”
“Oh butch up, Blake.” Ian said placing his scotch firmly on the wood. “She’s just a human being, not the Goddess of Human Kind.”
“Maybe not in bars you go to…” Blake mumbled.
“Well, get ready to worship, Blake.” Wella sipped her drink again. “She seems to be headed this way.”
And there was no doubt. Saxon Allen had picked up her wine and was headed straight for them. Blake was trying not to hyperventilate. Wella was busy telling Ian that she was the front runner for this year’s Best Actress Oscar while trying to look like she wasn’t saying anything, and Ian just stood up to face her.
The paparazzi darling sauntered right up, placed her drink on the table and calmly said, “Someone never returns my phone calls.”
Ian looked at her. “Why would I deign to return your phone calls, Kleenex Girl?”
The blond threw back her head and laughed, then grabbed Ian by the velvet lapels and laid one on him. They lost track of how many times it had happened that night, but once again Blake and Wella were dumbfounded, mouths open, shocked beyond belief. Ian was too busy returning the kiss to notice.
Saxon finally broke the kiss and pushed Ian away. “I mean it Ian, I’m hurt. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“It was just two, not a thousand, and I kept meaning to, but I keep losing my phone.”
She gave him a look of disbelief. Blake found his tongue. “True. I have to have it replaced for him at least once a week. They won’t even give us insurance anymore.”
“And I keep meaning to have him pick up one of those raspberry things…” Ian tried to explain.
“Blackberry.” Wella shot in.
“Blackberry,” Ian took the correction. “Aren’t they bigger and harder to misplace?”
Saxon giggled. “You are such a dork!” She took a breath. “Who are your friends?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ian introduced them. She looked a little hesitant to let Blake touch her hand, but he managed to not urinate on himself.
“And where’s Clare? She’s not going to jump out from under the table and claw my eyes out, is she?”
“Don’t worry,” He motioned for her to join them. “I had that fungus removed.”
“It’s not going to grow back again, is it?”
“Not this time. Several villages had to be sacrificed, and a few heavy rounds of nuclear anti-toxins were used liberally, but that unsightly stain has finally been permanently removed.” Ian took her hand as she seated herself beside him. He looked around a bit. “And where, pray tell, is your flavor of the month?”
Saxon rolled her eyes, “Under one of the tables for all I know. BUT, the movie is open and doing well, so after tonight, I am no longer obligated to see and be seen with that unsightly stain again.” She looked over at Wella. “I hate romantic comedies. You either get paired with a with a big ego and bad breath or a big hunk who really just wants to wear your panties.”
Blake patted her hand. “You and Julia Roberts have so much in common.”
“Why do you even bother?” Ian asked.
She smiled. “As I’m sure you are quickly learning, the social setting is where all the seeds of the really big deals are planted. Being a team player in public, is what it’s all about.”
“That’s what I’m told.” Ian said.
Suddenly a voice whined toward them. “Saxy, I’m bored!” slurred their way from a big muscle of a man.
Saxon looked at Ian and rolled her eyes. Ian turned to her “Saxy?”
“Better than Kleenex girl.” She kissed him quickly and stood up. “It was so nice to meet y’all.” She put her hands to her lips and giggled. “Okay, a little too much wine. Now are you going to call me? I’m keeping my promise!”
“I’d almost forgotten about that.” Ian smiled.
“No you didn’t and neither did I.” She leaned over and kissed him again. “Call me or I’ll have the Clare monster reanimated!”
“Call the office.” Blake popped in. “I’ll make sure you get through.”
Saxon smiled. “Actually…”
“I see the wheels turning.” Ian teased.
“I’m a natural blond.” She giggled. “I can’t help it.” Saxon put her arm under her whiny, weaving attractive flavor of the month’s arm. “Everyone, this is Jason Dunning. Jason these are actual human beings.”
“Hello, humans.” The man tried not to slur. “You may remember me as Hot Steel, from my WWF days.”
Saxon rolled her eyes again and tugged on the man. “Com’mon, let’s get you out of here.” They bobbled away, Saxon turning her head at the last minute and mouthed “Love you.”
The trio couldn’t help but hear her chide him. “Dammit Jason, you have semen on your chin. How am I supposed to be an effective beard if you keep getting drunk and blowing strangers in the john…”
Ian watched her go, smiling; at last a good memory. When he returned to reality Wella and Blake were both staring at him. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you…knew Saxon Allen?” Wella asked.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Not important?” Blake practically had a hissy. “She is the actress right now.”
“I know.” Ian said. “But what does an old friend…”
“She looked liked more than a friend.” Wella looked him straight in the eye.
“We went to college together.”
“Oh come on…” Blake demanded. “You cannot tell me you don’t find that woman hot and sexy. I’m a flaming queen and I’d do her in a heartbeat.”
Ian laughed. “Sorry, it’s just hard to think of someone that way when you’ve seen her in your boxer shorts throwing up on herself.”
“So you have…” Wella started to say but Ian cut her off.
“Long story…not your business, and no we’ve never…” Ian just let it drop. “We’re old college buddies, nothing more.”
Wella and Blake looked at each other and smiled. “Uh huh.” Blake nudged Wella.
“But maybe now that this Clare monster is out of the picture…” Wella hinted.
“Oh please.” Ian sat straight up. “She’s like a sister.”
“Well,” Blake pushed the umbrella aside and sipped from his drink. “You are Southern.”
“Not that Southern!” Ian looked at them both. “Now I love you both, but let’s make a pact. I will not pimp for you and you sure as hell won’t pimp for me.”
Wella threw up her hands. “Fine. Just thought I’d make sure that you understood a possible opportunity. It’s my job.”
“Your job is to help me find and make opportunities for HRT Studios, not to commit incest on a sticky table at a night club.”
“This table’s not sticky.” Blake wiped his hand across it and looked at Wella. “Do you think this table is sticky?”
Wella slapped at Blake’s hand. “That’s not what I was reminding you of…dork…Miss Saxon is rumored to be in the process of starting her own production company. It’s the natural next step for her, and should she actually win that Oscar, every non-old college friend in town will be fighting for a piece of her action…if you get my drift.”
“Oh…” Ian got the point. “Sorry.” He frowned. “But I hate taking advantage of old friendships just to further my own career.”
“Ian, you are so adorkable.” Wella smiled. “That’s your job.”
Ian hadn’t realized how quickly he had knocked back his scotch, his sipping alcohol. He tried to get the attention of a waiter, but finally gave up and decided just to go to the bar and get one. He asked his cohorts if they needed another. They said they were fine but he would get them another any way, just so he didn’t feel like a lush.
He stood up and was hit with the dilemma of which side of the bar to go to. He looked to his left and then to his right, when Blake grabbed his hand and said, “Just go get a drink, you damned chicken.”
Ian bent over and smiled at him, “Be careful Baby Doll or Daddy will have to spank!” Ian hoisted himself and walked to the side that seemed to have an opening at the nearest bartender.
He was able to walk right up to where a bartender immediately said, “Yes, may I help you?”
Ian ordered a Chivas with water, a white wine spritzer and “one of those thick pink things with the umbrella in it”. The bartender laughed and began to put together the concoctions.
Another bartender appeared and leaned against the bar. “Hi, may I help you Mr. Justyn?”
It was happening a little too much and he was beginning to get paranoid. “Do I know you?” he asked.
The man leaned in a little further dropping his voice to a low suggestive tone, “No, but if you'd like to, I get off at two.”
Ian leaned in closer imitating the man’s tone and said, “And you’ll be getting off alone.”
The other bartender brushed the guy physically aside, and said, “Why don’t you have a seat, sir, and I’ll bring these over to you.”
“Thank you.” Ian turned to head back to his seat noticing that Blake had already started up a conversation with another man about his age and had joined him at his table. As he slid back into the booth he said to Wella, “So we’ve been abandoned.”
“Yes,” she said, “they grow up so fast.”
A rather attractive man leaned over to Wella and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wondered if you would give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?”
Wella looked at Ian and smiled. He waved his hands at her, mouthing “Go! Go!”
Suddenly, Ian found himself at the most exclusive club in the country totally exclusive. It didn’t help that the bartender brought a tray moments after Wella “boogied” away and began putting three drinks in front of him. He looked up at the bartender and said, “I do this so well, don’t I?”
The bartender smiled and assured him, “You’ll be just fine. Mr. Justyn.”
“Okay, stop! Stop!” Ian begged, “It’s getting creepy. How the hell does everyone know me? I swear I’ve never seen any of you before in my life!”
The bartender looked at him questionably. “You honestly don’t know?”
“No and it’s driving me crazy.”
“We are all required to read the trade magazines, sir, and are all given a list with pictures of anyone who is on the list for our shifts. We all know that you are Ian Justyn, a new development executive at HRT network, that you come from a small market affiliate where you produced several news programs with ratings spike big enough to gather the attention of the network itself in less than five years, and you are also one of the youngest execs at that network ever.” He swiped a small spot of water from the table with a napkin and put it on his tray. “You are currently the only development executive in the country under thirty.”
“I’m kind of impressed.” Ian looked at the guy.
“You are the talk of the town right now, Mr. Justyn.”
“I was talking about the service technique, not me.”
“Get used to it, Mr. Justyn.” He said as he accepted several bills to cover the drinks including a nice tip.
“Well, they are talking today, tomorrow they may be laughing.”
“That’s the name of the game, Mr. Justyn.”
“It’s all a little disconcerting…and please, call me Ian—and you can spread that around.”
He smiled, “Would it make you feel better if you knew my name?”
Ian was genuinely grateful. “Yes, yes it would.”
“Blue, my name is Blue Richards.”
“It’s nice to meet you Blue.” Ian put out his hand which the waiter took and shook. “I’m Ian Justyn, dork of the hour.”
“Small world,” Blue said. “Well, I’d better get back to my post, hope to chat with you later. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” Ian said as he watched his new friend walk away. “Hey, Blue, is there a place I can catch a smoke?”
“Just go past the rest rooms over there, there’s a door at the end of the hallway. We have an overhang set up out back. Don’t worry about your table; it’s yours until you leave.”
“Thanks.” Ian tried to find his friends to tell him he was stepping out for a smoke, but gave up quickly and headed for a Marlboro. He found the rest room, slipped out the last door into the open air and pulled out a smoke.
He immediately recognized the big hulk of a man standing in the shadows, hands in the pockets of his blue slacks, biceps bulging and pecs straining the fabric of an expensive white shirt. Ian pointed at him and said, “Ripley, right?”
The man smiled at being remembered, “Yes, sir.” He pulled a hand out of his trouser pockets and flicked a lighter holding it out for Ian.
Ian cupped his hands around it, puffed until the cherry blazed and said, “Thank you.” He exhaled and looked at the man. “You’re not following me are you?”
“No, sir, we switch around the five stations every hour. Helps us follow the crowd and keep things in check. You are actually following me.”
“Sorry, I’ll try to not make a habit of it.” Ian said.
Ripley smiled a little. “Doesn’t bother me at all, sir.”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what to make of that. He turned and busied himself surveying the smoking crowd, noticing a woman with long dark hair that looked vaguely familiar. She had on a red halter-top dress cut down to there.
Ian noticed her returning his gaze, and he thought “Hmm, maybe I came to the right place.” He was just about to step a little toward her to gage her response when he heard his name called.
“Ian?”
He turned to see another face he recognized. “Marc?” They quickly ran together and embraced, slapping each other on the back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Marc asked.
“Well, apparently you aren’t required to read the trades.” Ian joshed.
“Huh?” Marc said
They quickly caught up. Marc Torrey and Ian had been in a band together during and for a few years after college. They played what they laughingly called the “Knoxpatch circuit”, a few minor clubs in the Knoxville and Gatlinburg area. They had gained a little following but Ian left the band when he got the job in Bristol. They had lost contact.
It turns out that most of the band was still together, although they were now called “El Toro”. They had made their way across country and were the house band for the weekend at Open Fields.
They smoked their cigarettes and caught up on old times. “Hey, you got to sing with us next set, Ian.” Marc interjected out of the blue.
Ian shook his head, “I am strictly a shower singer these days.”
“Oh come on dude, you gotta do at least one song with us. Who knows, you might get discovered.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll make you change your mind…hey you still with Clair?” He asked.
“Oh God, no. She’s is Bristol, torturing some other fool I guess. What about you? You still with Angela?”
“Oh yeah, made an honest woman of her four years ago. We got twin boys, 19 months old.”
“Congratulations man.”
About that time, the door swung open and this time Marc’s name was called. “There you are. We need to get ready and start the next set.”
Marc turned to the man in the door, “Hey Hooper, look whose here!” Marc presented Ian and the two hugged and slapped each other on the back. “Hey, dude, wanna chat, but we got get our asses back inside. See you later. You comin, Torrey?”
Marc squished a freshly lit smoke on the ground, “Yeah, yeah be right there.” He turned back to Ian, “You coming back in to hear us?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in as soon as I finish this one” Ian waved his freshly lit Marlboro in the air.
“Cool”, Marc disappeared.
Ian inhaled is smoke deeply and looked to find the woman, but the red dressed vixen was gone.
Vignette #25: Arrival
By nightfall, Ian was upstairs, standing in front of the mirror looking at him self. Dressed in new clothes, from undies to sport coat, he had to admit that he was a little impressed. Somehow, Tippy had managed to arrange everything from wardrobe to a haircut, excuse me--stylist, in one afternoon.
He was relieved to discover that it wasn’t his taste that Tippy didn’t approve of; it was as that a man of his stature could no longer afford to be a Wal-Mart shopper. She was as frugal as he was, and together they assembled a respectable new wardrobe, without melting his credit cards.
Ian had heard the doorbell, and knew that he needed to get downstairs before Tippy regurgitated too much information, again. He adjusted the blue jacket one more time and ran his fingers through his hair. Ian couldn’t quite believe that the guy in the mirror was actually him.
He was halfway down the stairs when the little group waiting for him, sighed and whistled. Ian smiled and blushed as he continued down the stairs. Tippy clapped her hands together and did a little dance.
“Oh my, Baby Doll, I may just have to throw my vows to my husband right out the window!” She squealed. “Do it! Do the little turn for me.”
Ian knew this one by heart now. He had done it so many times that day, including while standing in front of sales people in various cuts of underwear. Ian took a little step forward and did a pivot, allowing Tippy and his/her audience to see all sides.
“Show the rest, Baby Doll. Turn around and lift up the jacket for me.” Okay, this one he hated, but he had learned quickly that if he just did it, it got the whole thing over with much faster.
Ian turned around and lifted up the tails of the sport coat so she could get a gander at his behind. “Those pants are perfect, just perfect. God, you just have the most perfect butt! Don’t you think so, Wella?”
Wella was speechless. Her hand was at her throat, and Blake, standing beside her, had let his mouth drop to the floor. “He cleans up real nice doesn’t he?” Tippy just beamed.
Tippy waved her hands, “Okay, everybody, have a good time. Now out, out!” She started herding the three of them to the front door. “Baby Doll, I’ll lock up for you and no need to be home before tomorrow at one. Have a good time and get laid but if you miss my party I will track you down and kill you and the bitch blowing you.”
“Yes, ma’am” Ian robotically responded as he tried to shut the front door not too obviously as quickly as possible. He loved her dearly and already owed her the world, but he was ready to call it a night when it came to Mamie Rae Tipton. He turned to face Wella and Blake; staring in complete silence on the front porch.
“I don’t know what to say,” Wella finally managed.
“Personally, I am trying to hold it all in until we get in the car. I will definitely start with a very gay squeal.” Blake managed.
“I would say you have a lot of explaining to do, but I think that things have suddenly become self explanatory.”
“Thank you.” Ian was grateful. “Shall we just go?” The duo nodded in agreement.
“I thought we’d take my car, do you know where we are going?” Wella said starting to turn to the driveway.
“Uh…” Ian made her stop, “No and yes. Tippy has arranged everything, remember?” He put out his arms on either side as an invitation for his friends to take. “This will be one of the only times tonight that I will remind you, that we are young up and coming television executives enjoying a Saturday night out; to see as well as be seen. We cannot just show up, we must…arrive.”
With perfect timing, a stretch limo pulled out of the garage. Blake could no longer hold back and the neighborhood resonated with a perfectly gay squeal. A very beautiful woman dressed in uniform emerged from the driver’s side of the limo and opened the door for the trio to enter.
As Wella daintily lifted her mid length skirt to step into the car, she looked back at Ian. “Thank you so much, especially for the young part.”
“You are welcome.”
Once the door was shut and the limo on its way, Blake started blathering like Tippy reborn. “I cannot believe that you live here. The irony just blows my mind.”
“What are you talking about?” Ian asked.
“You really have no idea?”
Both Wella and Ian looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “My God,” Blake said. “You are soooo straight. This land was once the home of none other than, Darla Hutton! This whole neighborhood was once her palace green!”
Ian was still blank. “Who is Darla Hutton?”
This time Wella piped in. “Now that I am surprised at, Hutton as in the “H” in HRT network, the place you work for.”
“Oh, she was one of the founders. I knew they were three old movie actors, but I didn’t know their names. I’m surprised one was a woman.” Ian added.
Blake was staring out the window. “And she once owned all of this. Just imagine.”
The chauffeur piped in. “That’s actually not quite true.”
Blake was gaily offended. “Excuse me?”
The driver quickly apologized, “I apologize for interrupting, sir, but I grew up around here, and that’s not exactly true. It is true that Darla Hutton lived here, and most of the buildings that remain were at one time part of the estate, but she never really owned any of it. That’s all part of the legend of Darla Hutton, it was actually all owned equally by the other two partners, including James Redfield, the “R” in HRT.”
Blake corrected himself, “Oh, that’s right. I had just gotten it all confused. Redfield was her lover. He kind of disappeared about the same time Darla did.”
The chauffeur agreed, “That’s what I understand as well.”
“Disappeared?” Ian was a little intrigued. Blake was happy to fill him in, blathering on and on about how the facts and the rumors were so blurred no one probably knew the truth.
What was known was that Redfield’s wife found out about the affair with Darla and that there was a very public and documented confrontation, one of the few things that could be verified. Neither Darla nor Redfield ever made another film or ever appeared in public, together or separately, after that.
The legend was that they ran off together to Mexico or Canada and changed their names, living happily ever after. Mrs. Redfield committed suicide and no one has ever been able to track the now legendary lovers down. The sole survivor of the story, David Turner, ended up with total control of what became the most powerful entertainment conglomerate in the English-speaking world.
Ian was mildly amused and interested. “Wait a minute. I thought the “T’ stood for Tolan. Isn’t Jack Tolan’s family one of the big shareholders in the company?
Wella knew the answer to that one. “Oh no, Tolan’s just an employee like almost everyone else. David Turner is still alive, head of the board and in the office almost every day.”
“You are kidding?” Ian was astounded. “He must be as old as dirt.”
“In his 90’s,” Blake affirmed. “They say that he’s the only one who knows the whole story and he’s never said a word but, somewhere there’s a diary that can dish the whole dirt.”
“I’d love to get my hands on that” Ian mused to out loud.
Wella’s eyes quickly turned to stare at him in the passing lights. “I’m surprised that this really interests you.”
“Are you kidding?” Ian smirked. “Can you imagine the ratings we’d get if we could get hold of that diary? All the sex, deception and the intrigue; we’d have a whopping demographic—it would crush the competition. “Dallas” would look like that piece of crap we run at 2 in the afternoon.”
“That’s my boss”, Wella sighed, “Always thinking development.”
“We’re almost there. Destination ‘Open Fields’ is just about five minutes away,” the chauffeur announced.
Wella and Blake looked at each other and this time they both let out a gay squeal. “Open Fields? We’re going to Open Fields?”
“Uh…yes…is that something else I should know about?” Ian asked.
Wella squeezed Ian’s forearm. “Oh, child, Open Fields is only the newest and most exclusive club in town. Probably the whole country.”
“Kevin and I used to stand in line every Saturday night just hoping we could get in, the asshole.” Blake dreamed and kvetched.
“You never got in?” Ian asked.
“Please, the people in line out front rarely get in. You have to have your name on a list…” he said.
“And to be on the list you have to know somebody or be with somebody who knows somebody to get on the list.” Wella added.
“Hmmm”, Ian said, “I guess Mamie Rae Tipton knows somebody and got us nobody’s on somebody’s list.”
Wella made a chopping motion in the air, “That woman arranges my entire social life from now on.”
“Wouldn’t it be a hoot, if Kevin were standing in line with that Twinkie he dumped me for and saw me walk right passed him and into the club.” Blake dreamed again.
“Who’s Kevin?” Ian asked Wella.
“His ex, it wasn’t pretty, don’t bring it up.” Wella warned.
“And a Twinkie?”
“You are straight, aren’t you?” He nodded his head. “A fresh white boy filled with cream.”
“Ewww!” Ian retreated.
Within moments, the limo was passing a long cue of people all standing in what looked to be an endless line. The chauffeur maneuvered the car to a space that was far enough from the entrance to safely stop without parking on or near anyone hoping to get in.
A young man immediately appeared outside of the door and opened it. He extended a hand to Blake who stepped out, followed by Wella and then Ian. The driver also stepped out and informed them that she would be waiting down the street to take them where ever they chose to go either together or separately until dawn.
The three stepped onto a carpet and walked toward the door. He heard some girl complain, “Who do they think they are”, and someone else take bets as to whether or not they were getting in. He also heard someone squeal, “Oh my God! Blake! Blakey!”
He watched Blake turn his head, turn a little white and walk to an overdressed man in his thirties holding hands with a smug young man, maybe 23 or 24. Ian started to walk over with him, but Wella grabbed his arm. “Honey, that’s Kevin. Just leave them alone. He’ll be alright.”
Ian stood back and watched. The man was very condescending toward Blake and the other guy just smirked. “Look, Blakey, Todd and I are almost at the head of the line. He’s so gorgeous I’m sure they’ll let us in.”
“I know one of the waiters.” Todd bragged.
“Good for you.” Was all Blake said.
“Do you wanna stand with us? I’m sure they won’t let all three of us in, but you can stand with us. That’s okay, right, Todd?”
“Sure. Bygones are bygones.”
Ian had enough. Before Blake could say anything, Ian walked up behind him, slipped his arms around him and kissed him on the temple. “There you are Baby Doll. Are you ready?”
Blake was a little shocked, but played along enjoying the look he discovered on both the other men’s faces. “Have you met my new friend? This is Ian. Ian this is Kevin and Todd.”
Kevin looked Ian up and down and was not happy at all. Todd, on the other hand perked right up and jutted his crotch forward a little. “Nice to meet you. Would you like to wait with us? I know a waiter; he promised he’d try to get us in if we got close enough that he could see us on his break.”
Ian gave Blake’s ear and little nibble; much to Blake’s well hidden but definite surprise. “Good luck with that, boys” Ian half said. “Nice to meet you, Todd…Calvin.”
“Kevin.” He said flatly.
Ian ignored him. “Com’mon Baby Doll, Daddy’s on the list. No waiting.”
Blake smiled triumphantly, “Sorry, can’t get’cha in. It’s a private club you know, real men get right in.” He reached back and squeezed Ian’s butt, much to Ian's barely contained surprise. Blake slipped his hand around Ian’s waist and they walked out of the duo’s sight.
As soon as they were far enough away, they both laughed. Blake’s smile was ear to ear. “Oh man, that was almost worth more to me than going in the club itself!”
“Glad I could oblige…Baby Doll.” Ian put his arm around Blake’s shoulder.
“Thanks Daddy.” And slipped his arm around Ian’s waist.
Ian looked around, “Now where did Wella get off to?”
It didn’t take them long to spot her, standing toe to toe with a bouncer towering behind a velvet rope. She was just staring at him and he was staring off into space.
Ian touched her on the shoulder. “Wella, are you okay?” Ian asked.
“I am fine.” She said.
“Ready to go in?”
“Uh huh” she was unmoved.
Ian looked a little worried behind her. But stepped up to the bouncer and realized that he had no idea how to go about this. “Hi, I’m…"
The large man broke frame and reached for the rope. “I know who you are Mr. Justyn. Is this your party?”
The “party” was shocked. “Uh…yes” Ian tried to look unfazed.
The man unsnapped the rope and motioned them in. “Enjoy you’re evening, Mr. Justyn. Let me know if I can be of any service.”
They stepped through…well, Blake and Ian stepped through, Ian had to grab Wella’s hand and yank her through. Ian couldn’t help but ask, “Excuse me, sir…”
“Ripley, Mr. Justyn, you can call me Ripley.”
“Thank you, Ripley. Uhm…how do you know me?”
The large looming man looked him in the eye. “It’s my job, sir.”
“Oh”, he said, “and Ian, call me Ian.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a good night, sir.” Ian took a step forward and had to go back and grab Wella’s hand again. He whispered in her ear. “Wella what the hell is wrong with you.”
She didn’t bother to whisper, but said loud enough for all to hear, “That is the biggest most beautiful white man I have ever seen in my life.”
Wella calmly walked up to the bouncer. "Excuse me sir, but could I squeeze your ass? Just one time?"
"Wella!" Ian grabbed his entrances co-hort and yanked her inside as quickly as he could.
A young man with metal through his nose and dreadlocks looked up at the bouncer from his side of the rope and smiled. "Could I squeeze your ass just one time?"
"Get away from me punk." The man sneered.
He was relieved to discover that it wasn’t his taste that Tippy didn’t approve of; it was as that a man of his stature could no longer afford to be a Wal-Mart shopper. She was as frugal as he was, and together they assembled a respectable new wardrobe, without melting his credit cards.
Ian had heard the doorbell, and knew that he needed to get downstairs before Tippy regurgitated too much information, again. He adjusted the blue jacket one more time and ran his fingers through his hair. Ian couldn’t quite believe that the guy in the mirror was actually him.
He was halfway down the stairs when the little group waiting for him, sighed and whistled. Ian smiled and blushed as he continued down the stairs. Tippy clapped her hands together and did a little dance.
“Oh my, Baby Doll, I may just have to throw my vows to my husband right out the window!” She squealed. “Do it! Do the little turn for me.”
Ian knew this one by heart now. He had done it so many times that day, including while standing in front of sales people in various cuts of underwear. Ian took a little step forward and did a pivot, allowing Tippy and his/her audience to see all sides.
“Show the rest, Baby Doll. Turn around and lift up the jacket for me.” Okay, this one he hated, but he had learned quickly that if he just did it, it got the whole thing over with much faster.
Ian turned around and lifted up the tails of the sport coat so she could get a gander at his behind. “Those pants are perfect, just perfect. God, you just have the most perfect butt! Don’t you think so, Wella?”
Wella was speechless. Her hand was at her throat, and Blake, standing beside her, had let his mouth drop to the floor. “He cleans up real nice doesn’t he?” Tippy just beamed.
Tippy waved her hands, “Okay, everybody, have a good time. Now out, out!” She started herding the three of them to the front door. “Baby Doll, I’ll lock up for you and no need to be home before tomorrow at one. Have a good time and get laid but if you miss my party I will track you down and kill you and the bitch blowing you.”
“Yes, ma’am” Ian robotically responded as he tried to shut the front door not too obviously as quickly as possible. He loved her dearly and already owed her the world, but he was ready to call it a night when it came to Mamie Rae Tipton. He turned to face Wella and Blake; staring in complete silence on the front porch.
“I don’t know what to say,” Wella finally managed.
“Personally, I am trying to hold it all in until we get in the car. I will definitely start with a very gay squeal.” Blake managed.
“I would say you have a lot of explaining to do, but I think that things have suddenly become self explanatory.”
“Thank you.” Ian was grateful. “Shall we just go?” The duo nodded in agreement.
“I thought we’d take my car, do you know where we are going?” Wella said starting to turn to the driveway.
“Uh…” Ian made her stop, “No and yes. Tippy has arranged everything, remember?” He put out his arms on either side as an invitation for his friends to take. “This will be one of the only times tonight that I will remind you, that we are young up and coming television executives enjoying a Saturday night out; to see as well as be seen. We cannot just show up, we must…arrive.”
With perfect timing, a stretch limo pulled out of the garage. Blake could no longer hold back and the neighborhood resonated with a perfectly gay squeal. A very beautiful woman dressed in uniform emerged from the driver’s side of the limo and opened the door for the trio to enter.
As Wella daintily lifted her mid length skirt to step into the car, she looked back at Ian. “Thank you so much, especially for the young part.”
“You are welcome.”
Once the door was shut and the limo on its way, Blake started blathering like Tippy reborn. “I cannot believe that you live here. The irony just blows my mind.”
“What are you talking about?” Ian asked.
“You really have no idea?”
Both Wella and Ian looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “My God,” Blake said. “You are soooo straight. This land was once the home of none other than, Darla Hutton! This whole neighborhood was once her palace green!”
Ian was still blank. “Who is Darla Hutton?”
This time Wella piped in. “Now that I am surprised at, Hutton as in the “H” in HRT network, the place you work for.”
“Oh, she was one of the founders. I knew they were three old movie actors, but I didn’t know their names. I’m surprised one was a woman.” Ian added.
Blake was staring out the window. “And she once owned all of this. Just imagine.”
The chauffeur piped in. “That’s actually not quite true.”
Blake was gaily offended. “Excuse me?”
The driver quickly apologized, “I apologize for interrupting, sir, but I grew up around here, and that’s not exactly true. It is true that Darla Hutton lived here, and most of the buildings that remain were at one time part of the estate, but she never really owned any of it. That’s all part of the legend of Darla Hutton, it was actually all owned equally by the other two partners, including James Redfield, the “R” in HRT.”
Blake corrected himself, “Oh, that’s right. I had just gotten it all confused. Redfield was her lover. He kind of disappeared about the same time Darla did.”
The chauffeur agreed, “That’s what I understand as well.”
“Disappeared?” Ian was a little intrigued. Blake was happy to fill him in, blathering on and on about how the facts and the rumors were so blurred no one probably knew the truth.
What was known was that Redfield’s wife found out about the affair with Darla and that there was a very public and documented confrontation, one of the few things that could be verified. Neither Darla nor Redfield ever made another film or ever appeared in public, together or separately, after that.
The legend was that they ran off together to Mexico or Canada and changed their names, living happily ever after. Mrs. Redfield committed suicide and no one has ever been able to track the now legendary lovers down. The sole survivor of the story, David Turner, ended up with total control of what became the most powerful entertainment conglomerate in the English-speaking world.
Ian was mildly amused and interested. “Wait a minute. I thought the “T’ stood for Tolan. Isn’t Jack Tolan’s family one of the big shareholders in the company?
Wella knew the answer to that one. “Oh no, Tolan’s just an employee like almost everyone else. David Turner is still alive, head of the board and in the office almost every day.”
“You are kidding?” Ian was astounded. “He must be as old as dirt.”
“In his 90’s,” Blake affirmed. “They say that he’s the only one who knows the whole story and he’s never said a word but, somewhere there’s a diary that can dish the whole dirt.”
“I’d love to get my hands on that” Ian mused to out loud.
Wella’s eyes quickly turned to stare at him in the passing lights. “I’m surprised that this really interests you.”
“Are you kidding?” Ian smirked. “Can you imagine the ratings we’d get if we could get hold of that diary? All the sex, deception and the intrigue; we’d have a whopping demographic—it would crush the competition. “Dallas” would look like that piece of crap we run at 2 in the afternoon.”
“That’s my boss”, Wella sighed, “Always thinking development.”
“We’re almost there. Destination ‘Open Fields’ is just about five minutes away,” the chauffeur announced.
Wella and Blake looked at each other and this time they both let out a gay squeal. “Open Fields? We’re going to Open Fields?”
“Uh…yes…is that something else I should know about?” Ian asked.
Wella squeezed Ian’s forearm. “Oh, child, Open Fields is only the newest and most exclusive club in town. Probably the whole country.”
“Kevin and I used to stand in line every Saturday night just hoping we could get in, the asshole.” Blake dreamed and kvetched.
“You never got in?” Ian asked.
“Please, the people in line out front rarely get in. You have to have your name on a list…” he said.
“And to be on the list you have to know somebody or be with somebody who knows somebody to get on the list.” Wella added.
“Hmmm”, Ian said, “I guess Mamie Rae Tipton knows somebody and got us nobody’s on somebody’s list.”
Wella made a chopping motion in the air, “That woman arranges my entire social life from now on.”
“Wouldn’t it be a hoot, if Kevin were standing in line with that Twinkie he dumped me for and saw me walk right passed him and into the club.” Blake dreamed again.
“Who’s Kevin?” Ian asked Wella.
“His ex, it wasn’t pretty, don’t bring it up.” Wella warned.
“And a Twinkie?”
“You are straight, aren’t you?” He nodded his head. “A fresh white boy filled with cream.”
“Ewww!” Ian retreated.
Within moments, the limo was passing a long cue of people all standing in what looked to be an endless line. The chauffeur maneuvered the car to a space that was far enough from the entrance to safely stop without parking on or near anyone hoping to get in.
A young man immediately appeared outside of the door and opened it. He extended a hand to Blake who stepped out, followed by Wella and then Ian. The driver also stepped out and informed them that she would be waiting down the street to take them where ever they chose to go either together or separately until dawn.
The three stepped onto a carpet and walked toward the door. He heard some girl complain, “Who do they think they are”, and someone else take bets as to whether or not they were getting in. He also heard someone squeal, “Oh my God! Blake! Blakey!”
He watched Blake turn his head, turn a little white and walk to an overdressed man in his thirties holding hands with a smug young man, maybe 23 or 24. Ian started to walk over with him, but Wella grabbed his arm. “Honey, that’s Kevin. Just leave them alone. He’ll be alright.”
Ian stood back and watched. The man was very condescending toward Blake and the other guy just smirked. “Look, Blakey, Todd and I are almost at the head of the line. He’s so gorgeous I’m sure they’ll let us in.”
“I know one of the waiters.” Todd bragged.
“Good for you.” Was all Blake said.
“Do you wanna stand with us? I’m sure they won’t let all three of us in, but you can stand with us. That’s okay, right, Todd?”
“Sure. Bygones are bygones.”
Ian had enough. Before Blake could say anything, Ian walked up behind him, slipped his arms around him and kissed him on the temple. “There you are Baby Doll. Are you ready?”
Blake was a little shocked, but played along enjoying the look he discovered on both the other men’s faces. “Have you met my new friend? This is Ian. Ian this is Kevin and Todd.”
Kevin looked Ian up and down and was not happy at all. Todd, on the other hand perked right up and jutted his crotch forward a little. “Nice to meet you. Would you like to wait with us? I know a waiter; he promised he’d try to get us in if we got close enough that he could see us on his break.”
Ian gave Blake’s ear and little nibble; much to Blake’s well hidden but definite surprise. “Good luck with that, boys” Ian half said. “Nice to meet you, Todd…Calvin.”
“Kevin.” He said flatly.
Ian ignored him. “Com’mon Baby Doll, Daddy’s on the list. No waiting.”
Blake smiled triumphantly, “Sorry, can’t get’cha in. It’s a private club you know, real men get right in.” He reached back and squeezed Ian’s butt, much to Ian's barely contained surprise. Blake slipped his hand around Ian’s waist and they walked out of the duo’s sight.
As soon as they were far enough away, they both laughed. Blake’s smile was ear to ear. “Oh man, that was almost worth more to me than going in the club itself!”
“Glad I could oblige…Baby Doll.” Ian put his arm around Blake’s shoulder.
“Thanks Daddy.” And slipped his arm around Ian’s waist.
Ian looked around, “Now where did Wella get off to?”
It didn’t take them long to spot her, standing toe to toe with a bouncer towering behind a velvet rope. She was just staring at him and he was staring off into space.
Ian touched her on the shoulder. “Wella, are you okay?” Ian asked.
“I am fine.” She said.
“Ready to go in?”
“Uh huh” she was unmoved.
Ian looked a little worried behind her. But stepped up to the bouncer and realized that he had no idea how to go about this. “Hi, I’m…"
The large man broke frame and reached for the rope. “I know who you are Mr. Justyn. Is this your party?”
The “party” was shocked. “Uh…yes” Ian tried to look unfazed.
The man unsnapped the rope and motioned them in. “Enjoy you’re evening, Mr. Justyn. Let me know if I can be of any service.”
They stepped through…well, Blake and Ian stepped through, Ian had to grab Wella’s hand and yank her through. Ian couldn’t help but ask, “Excuse me, sir…”
“Ripley, Mr. Justyn, you can call me Ripley.”
“Thank you, Ripley. Uhm…how do you know me?”
The large looming man looked him in the eye. “It’s my job, sir.”
“Oh”, he said, “and Ian, call me Ian.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a good night, sir.” Ian took a step forward and had to go back and grab Wella’s hand again. He whispered in her ear. “Wella what the hell is wrong with you.”
She didn’t bother to whisper, but said loud enough for all to hear, “That is the biggest most beautiful white man I have ever seen in my life.”
Wella calmly walked up to the bouncer. "Excuse me sir, but could I squeeze your ass? Just one time?"
"Wella!" Ian grabbed his entrances co-hort and yanked her inside as quickly as he could.
A young man with metal through his nose and dreadlocks looked up at the bouncer from his side of the rope and smiled. "Could I squeeze your ass just one time?"
"Get away from me punk." The man sneered.
Vignette #24: Naked
"What?” She said.
Ian looked at Tippy and asked bluntly, “Did you have a message for me?”
“Oh no, I took care of it.”
“Of what?”
“What?”
“Took care of what, Tippy?”
“Baby Doll, don’t worry, I said I’d arrange everything and I will. I’m just trying to decide.”
“Tippy, you know how much I love you…”
“I love you, too, Baby Doll" She cooed and grinned."…kisses sweet thing…”
“Tippy, who was on the phone? "More specifically, who was on my phone?”
“Wella wanted to know if you had any plans for tonight, and I told her that you didn’t, and I did ask you, so she and that other young man from your office want to take you out for a night on the town. Oh, I hate that, what was his name?” She snapped her fingers…”Blake, that’s it. His name was Blake!”
“Whose name is Blake?” Colton suddenly appeared. “Are we getting naked?” He started pulling his shirt off over his head.
Ian silently bashed his head against the concrete. “You might as well.”
“Now, Colton honey, don’t get all bothered up. If you do you’re just gonna have to take of yourself. I have too much to do!”
“What have you got to do, Tippy?”
“Ian and some friends from work are going out tonight, and I’d promised I’d set the itinerary.”
Colton nudged Ian, “Oh, you’ll have fun. She’ll think of the perfect place. She’s good at that.”
Tippy looked at the men, both naked in the pool. “Well…maybe for just a minute. I’m so busy, but a girl’s gotta relax.” Within an instant Tippy, too, was naked and had joined them in the water.
Ian had crossed from mortified, to frustrated, to just accepting it all. He finally just sat back and watched his naked neighbors splashing each other in the pool. They kissed and cuddled a little while until Tippy smacked her husband’s buns under water and said, “Stop it Colt, I’ll never get Ian ready.”
“Sorry, baby, you are just so much woman, I can’t help myself.” He said and nuzzled her neck. She laughed sexily and tossed her head back.
“Now stop it, I really do have things to do.” She stood up and waded over to Ian, proud firm breasts dripping water. “Hmmm, now where does a good looking stud, a successful young up and coming network executive go with friends for a night on the town?”
“Tippy don’t worry about it. We’ll just wing it. This is LA; there are spots to go on every corner.”
She giggled and tapped his sternum, “Don’t be silly, Baby Doll, you can’t just go down the boulevard and pick up hookers. You’re first real night on the town has to be sensational, you need to be seen as well as have a good time.”
Colt slipped up behind, wrapped his beefy arms around her, and nuzzled her neck again. “Now, honey, don’t get carried away. Remember, this is for Ian; he doesn’t like a big fuss. Keep it simple. Find something exclusive and not too wild. You know how shy our boy is…”
She smiled and cocked her head. “Hmmm, yes, so sweet my Baby Doll…” Still cradled by her husband, Tippy stroked the wet smooth hair on Ian’s chest, and noticed the locket that he now sported. “What’s this?”
Ian looked down and saw she was holding the little battered heart in her hand. “Oh, it’s a locket my Grandmother gave me when I was little.”
“What’s inside?’ She asked, and stuck her nail in it, ticking it open. “Oh, how darlin’! Is that baby you? You were such a precious child! And your mama?” She held the picture so he could see it.
“I guess so.” Ian had to crane to look at the picture that he hadn’t seen in years. “I don’t remember her. I just assumed that’s the scenario.”
“Don’t you have pictures, Ian?” Colton asked.
“Not to my knowledge. My Uncle wasn’t real big on keeping pictures, having children around or anything having to do with being human.”
“Aw, sweetheart…” Tippy stroked his cheek. “You should have this thing cleaned up a little.”
“It’s just fine, but thanks.”
She didn’t bother to hear him, gently lifting the chain over Ian’s head. “I’ll have this sent over to my jeweler and it’ll be back before you know it.” A thought stuck in her head. “Oh, you know, I need to look at your wardrobe. I promised Wella I’d dress you better.”
“Excuse me…?”
Colton put his arm on Ian’s shoulder, “Just relax and let it go, buddy, you can’t stop the train now.”
Tippy had already lifted herself from the pool and was headed up the balcony steps, “I assume you keep your clothes up here?”
Before Ian could stop her, she had disappeared. “Is it too late to not buy this place?” Ian said to no one in particular.
Colton chuckled, “Aw, buddy, she just adores you and if you just let her have her way you’ll find how colorful and unimaginably wonderful she’ll make your life.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.”
About that time, Tippy appeared over the balcony railing, breasts poking out to the wind, holding several pairs of Ian’s boxers. “Baby Doll, don’t you have any boxer briefs? They are so much sexier than these things. I bet that trailer trash paper weight you were balling bought these, didn’t she?”
“Well, I…” Ian didn’t get much more out when a fourth voice joined in the mix.
“You guys!” The younger version of Colton Ian had seen last night was standing aghast at the edge of the pool.
“Jesse honey, what’s the matter?” Tippy asked still holding out of pair of blue boxers by her fingernails.
“This is my space. You guys promised! Its bad enough I have to go into my own back yard and see this, but now here, too! Dammit to hell!”
Both Colt and Tippy looked guilty and pointed at Ian, “He started it!”
“Hey, I was enjoying a private dip in my own pool and suddenly I had company, I am really just an innocent bystander in all this!”
Jesse looked Ian in the eye, “Welcome to my world…”
“Ian have you met our Jesse?” Colton asked.
“Nice to meet you.” Jesse politely said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He shot a deadly look at both his parents.
“Uh, no” Ian stammered. “You are welcome to use the pool any time.”
“Thanks, Mr. Justyn. I promise I won’t be a nuisance. In fact, I was coming over to clean the pool, but I think it can wait until later.”
“Call me, Ian, please.”
Jesse nodded his head in genuine appreciation. “Thanks…Ian”
His mother called from the balcony as she dropped underwear off the side into a trashcan below. “Jesse, honey, where is the best place in town to go have a good time on Saturday night? Ian’s going out with some friends, and being new here and all…”
Tippy yapped a while and Jesse looked at Ian, “She’s not going to bother letting me answer, you know.”
“Believe me, I know.” Ian responded.
Tippy reappeared on the balcony with more clothes tossing them over the side to the quickly filling can below. “Baby Doll, put some pants on I’m gonna have to take you shopping.”
“Mom…” Jesse whined, “if you’re gonna make Ian put pants on, could you at least find your bra?”
Tippy looked at her naked breasts. “Oh my!” She giggled. “I guess I should.” Then she looked up and waved. “Why there is the nicest man in the yard next door just a smiling and waving!” She waved enthusiastically back. “Hi, honey! Do you wanna come over and get naked in Ian’s pool with us?”
Jesse squatted down and whispered in Ian’s ear, “Move now, before the ink is dry.” They both laughed.
Ian remembered, “Hey Jesse, can you show me where the buttons are that turn on the pool and patio lights. I’ve never been able to find them.”
Jesse patted Ian’s shoulder, “I guess since my Dad’s the naked dude in your pool, and my Mom’s throwing out your underwear and inviting strangers to get naked in your pool, it’s probably the least I can do. Come on, I’ll show how this place works.” Ian pulled himself with a splash out of the pool. “Now this button turns on the lights here over the door….”
Ian looked at Tippy and asked bluntly, “Did you have a message for me?”
“Oh no, I took care of it.”
“Of what?”
“What?”
“Took care of what, Tippy?”
“Baby Doll, don’t worry, I said I’d arrange everything and I will. I’m just trying to decide.”
“Tippy, you know how much I love you…”
“I love you, too, Baby Doll" She cooed and grinned."…kisses sweet thing…”
“Tippy, who was on the phone? "More specifically, who was on my phone?”
“Wella wanted to know if you had any plans for tonight, and I told her that you didn’t, and I did ask you, so she and that other young man from your office want to take you out for a night on the town. Oh, I hate that, what was his name?” She snapped her fingers…”Blake, that’s it. His name was Blake!”
“Whose name is Blake?” Colton suddenly appeared. “Are we getting naked?” He started pulling his shirt off over his head.
Ian silently bashed his head against the concrete. “You might as well.”
“Now, Colton honey, don’t get all bothered up. If you do you’re just gonna have to take of yourself. I have too much to do!”
“What have you got to do, Tippy?”
“Ian and some friends from work are going out tonight, and I’d promised I’d set the itinerary.”
Colton nudged Ian, “Oh, you’ll have fun. She’ll think of the perfect place. She’s good at that.”
Tippy looked at the men, both naked in the pool. “Well…maybe for just a minute. I’m so busy, but a girl’s gotta relax.” Within an instant Tippy, too, was naked and had joined them in the water.
Ian had crossed from mortified, to frustrated, to just accepting it all. He finally just sat back and watched his naked neighbors splashing each other in the pool. They kissed and cuddled a little while until Tippy smacked her husband’s buns under water and said, “Stop it Colt, I’ll never get Ian ready.”
“Sorry, baby, you are just so much woman, I can’t help myself.” He said and nuzzled her neck. She laughed sexily and tossed her head back.
“Now stop it, I really do have things to do.” She stood up and waded over to Ian, proud firm breasts dripping water. “Hmmm, now where does a good looking stud, a successful young up and coming network executive go with friends for a night on the town?”
“Tippy don’t worry about it. We’ll just wing it. This is LA; there are spots to go on every corner.”
She giggled and tapped his sternum, “Don’t be silly, Baby Doll, you can’t just go down the boulevard and pick up hookers. You’re first real night on the town has to be sensational, you need to be seen as well as have a good time.”
Colt slipped up behind, wrapped his beefy arms around her, and nuzzled her neck again. “Now, honey, don’t get carried away. Remember, this is for Ian; he doesn’t like a big fuss. Keep it simple. Find something exclusive and not too wild. You know how shy our boy is…”
She smiled and cocked her head. “Hmmm, yes, so sweet my Baby Doll…” Still cradled by her husband, Tippy stroked the wet smooth hair on Ian’s chest, and noticed the locket that he now sported. “What’s this?”
Ian looked down and saw she was holding the little battered heart in her hand. “Oh, it’s a locket my Grandmother gave me when I was little.”
“What’s inside?’ She asked, and stuck her nail in it, ticking it open. “Oh, how darlin’! Is that baby you? You were such a precious child! And your mama?” She held the picture so he could see it.
“I guess so.” Ian had to crane to look at the picture that he hadn’t seen in years. “I don’t remember her. I just assumed that’s the scenario.”
“Don’t you have pictures, Ian?” Colton asked.
“Not to my knowledge. My Uncle wasn’t real big on keeping pictures, having children around or anything having to do with being human.”
“Aw, sweetheart…” Tippy stroked his cheek. “You should have this thing cleaned up a little.”
“It’s just fine, but thanks.”
She didn’t bother to hear him, gently lifting the chain over Ian’s head. “I’ll have this sent over to my jeweler and it’ll be back before you know it.” A thought stuck in her head. “Oh, you know, I need to look at your wardrobe. I promised Wella I’d dress you better.”
“Excuse me…?”
Colton put his arm on Ian’s shoulder, “Just relax and let it go, buddy, you can’t stop the train now.”
Tippy had already lifted herself from the pool and was headed up the balcony steps, “I assume you keep your clothes up here?”
Before Ian could stop her, she had disappeared. “Is it too late to not buy this place?” Ian said to no one in particular.
Colton chuckled, “Aw, buddy, she just adores you and if you just let her have her way you’ll find how colorful and unimaginably wonderful she’ll make your life.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.”
About that time, Tippy appeared over the balcony railing, breasts poking out to the wind, holding several pairs of Ian’s boxers. “Baby Doll, don’t you have any boxer briefs? They are so much sexier than these things. I bet that trailer trash paper weight you were balling bought these, didn’t she?”
“Well, I…” Ian didn’t get much more out when a fourth voice joined in the mix.
“You guys!” The younger version of Colton Ian had seen last night was standing aghast at the edge of the pool.
“Jesse honey, what’s the matter?” Tippy asked still holding out of pair of blue boxers by her fingernails.
“This is my space. You guys promised! Its bad enough I have to go into my own back yard and see this, but now here, too! Dammit to hell!”
Both Colt and Tippy looked guilty and pointed at Ian, “He started it!”
“Hey, I was enjoying a private dip in my own pool and suddenly I had company, I am really just an innocent bystander in all this!”
Jesse looked Ian in the eye, “Welcome to my world…”
“Ian have you met our Jesse?” Colton asked.
“Nice to meet you.” Jesse politely said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He shot a deadly look at both his parents.
“Uh, no” Ian stammered. “You are welcome to use the pool any time.”
“Thanks, Mr. Justyn. I promise I won’t be a nuisance. In fact, I was coming over to clean the pool, but I think it can wait until later.”
“Call me, Ian, please.”
Jesse nodded his head in genuine appreciation. “Thanks…Ian”
His mother called from the balcony as she dropped underwear off the side into a trashcan below. “Jesse, honey, where is the best place in town to go have a good time on Saturday night? Ian’s going out with some friends, and being new here and all…”
Tippy yapped a while and Jesse looked at Ian, “She’s not going to bother letting me answer, you know.”
“Believe me, I know.” Ian responded.
Tippy reappeared on the balcony with more clothes tossing them over the side to the quickly filling can below. “Baby Doll, put some pants on I’m gonna have to take you shopping.”
“Mom…” Jesse whined, “if you’re gonna make Ian put pants on, could you at least find your bra?”
Tippy looked at her naked breasts. “Oh my!” She giggled. “I guess I should.” Then she looked up and waved. “Why there is the nicest man in the yard next door just a smiling and waving!” She waved enthusiastically back. “Hi, honey! Do you wanna come over and get naked in Ian’s pool with us?”
Jesse squatted down and whispered in Ian’s ear, “Move now, before the ink is dry.” They both laughed.
Ian remembered, “Hey Jesse, can you show me where the buttons are that turn on the pool and patio lights. I’ve never been able to find them.”
Jesse patted Ian’s shoulder, “I guess since my Dad’s the naked dude in your pool, and my Mom’s throwing out your underwear and inviting strangers to get naked in your pool, it’s probably the least I can do. Come on, I’ll show how this place works.” Ian pulled himself with a splash out of the pool. “Now this button turns on the lights here over the door….”
Vignette #23: Poolboy
Ian awoke that Saturday morning with a smile on his face. He showered and shaved and spent the better part of the morning doing household tasks, like dusting and taking out the garbage. He found some garden shears in the cabana by the pool and began the arduous task of pruning the rose vines that had taken over the first floor railings.
It was almost noon when he decided, dammit, it was his pool and he was going to use it, so he stripped off his jeans and shirt and dove in. He could hardly believe that he was now the proud owner of a nice home with its own pool. He laughed and splashed and generally just enjoyed himself.
He was just lounging about the shallow end, when Tippy appeared at the pool edge.
“Good morning, Baby Doll!” She cooed.
“Tippy!” He was half shocked and half annoyed.
“What?” She said as she squatted down beside him, slipped off her sandals and dipped her feet in the water beside him.
“I’m kind of naked here.” He said.
“Oh honey, I have been married since I was 22 years old and I have two sons. I have seen a penis before.” she remarked casually.
He covered himself as best he could with his hands. “But not mine!”
“And whose fault is that?” She said. She stared down at his covered privates and pushed down the sunglasses she was wearing to her nose. “And now I have. I’m impressed.” She said flatly and pushed her sunglasses back up. “Let’s move along shall we?”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Colton and I are having a small little lunch thingy tomorrow and we’d like you to come. Is one okay with you? Good, we thought it was time you met a few people, you’ve been a nun way too long, Baby Doll.”
Tippy splashed some water on her thighs and kept going. “Now I’m not promising you’ll get laid, but there will be a nice little smorgasbord of selections for you to choose from. We’re just gonna have hamburgers and baked beans and stuff so it’s informal.”
She looked at him still standing in the pool nonchalantly trying to cover his privates. “Not nearly as informal as you are now, but relaxed.”
“Okay…”
“You know, Baby Doll, I’ve always found that country boys have bigger penises, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Whatever.” She splashed her toes in the water a little and started rattling on, charming and infuriating Ian at the same time. “Now Colton is from Texas, and he has a really nice one. I’ve often thought how nice it would be to be one of them people that has both sets of equipment…”
“A hermaphrodite?”
“Yeah, one of them. “ She pulled down her glasses and looked at him again, “You are such a catch, smart and hung like a horse.” She pushed her glasses back up and swished her feet in the water staring again off into nowhere. “Stop playing with yourself Baby Doll, it’s kinda rude.”
“I’m not playing with myself.”
“Well then stop pretending to be modest, just relax and enjoy life, Baby Doll…Now don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoy sex, but all that thrusting…how do you boys do it? It’s so exhausting, no wonder you just roll over and go to sleep.”
Ian adored Tippy, but was really hoping she would get to the point and move on. He was getting tired of standing there clutching his ding dong, which is exactly what he felt like.
“No I think being a woman is best. You can just lay back and enjoy all your man’s hard work, so to speak, and if you get bored, you just fake an orgasm, and bring it all to a quick end. Why is it that you boys just will not cum until a woman has had an orgasm? Is it a butch thing?”
Ian started to speak and Tippy put up her hand to stop him, “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t know. You may not be into guys, but I know good and well you’ve been with a woman. You are much too hot a man to not have at least had half a dozen fake letting you take their virginity. If I thought you were stupid and Colt and I played separately, I’d have faked virginity on you by now.”
Tippy leaned back on her hands and kicked the water a little more.
“Did you by any chance have this conversation with judges during the Miss America competition?” Ian asked her.
Tippy threw back her head and laughed. “Oh my God, no! Can you imagine? Course if I had maybe I’d have beat that Miss Rhoade Island by more points. I won so I am not ashamed to admit that it was close. No honey, you didn’t dare talk about sex back then. All the male judges thought you were a virgin and all the female judges knew you were a lying bitch.” She put her hand over her mouth and just laughed.
Ian’s cell phone buzzed. Tippy stopped in mid giggle and reached for it since it was lying on top on Ian’s pants near her. He thought she was handing it him, but she flipped it open and said “Hello.”
“Oh high dear, it’s me, Tippy…his neighbor, can I help you?”
Ian tried to get her attention, “Tippy, I’ll…”
Tippy held up her hand, “Sweetheart, Ian’s busy playing with himself in the pool…”
“I am not playing with myself. Can I have my phone, please?”
She cupped her hand over the cell, “Baby Doll you are all wet and standing in water. Don’t worry I’ll take a message.” And went right back into conversation. “Oh darling, I think that’s a wonderful idea…Yes…uh huh…well I’m sure he doesn’t, but let me ask. He’s a little grumpy today.”
Tippy looked at Ian, “Baby Doll, you don’t have plans for tonight, do you? I didn’t think so...no darling…what was your name again? Wella? No honey, he doesn’t have any plans tonight. I think that will be so good for him…yes I worry about him staying at home so much. He is so good lookin’ and he has a really big penis…I’m lookin’ at it right now. He needs to get out and let people enjoy it more. Don’t you think so?”
Ian just dripped into the pool and hoped he’d drown. He made a mental note that as much as he loved Tippy to keep her separated from sane people. Wella will never ever let him forget this conversation. Once he’d held his breath as long as he could, and decided that maybe he didn’t want to die after all. He pushed out of the water and gasped for air, just in time to see Tippy twisting her hair and chatting away like a school kid on his phone.
“Oh, Wella, honey, you should have seen the look on his face! But I don’t think that Clare person will be bothering him anymore…and he seemed pretty positive he wanted it to be over, so we just saw the opportunity and went with it…”
Oh, God, maybe he did want to die.
“Honey, it’s been so nice talking with you, too. Listen I’ll take care of everything. You all just show up here, okay? Yes, I look forward to meeting you, too. Tah, honey!” She shut his cell phone and looked at Ian. “That assistant of yours is such a sweetheart!”
Ian just stared at her. For the practically the first time since she had shown up Tippy had nothing to say. She looked at Ian and smiled. Ian raised an eyebrow.
It was almost noon when he decided, dammit, it was his pool and he was going to use it, so he stripped off his jeans and shirt and dove in. He could hardly believe that he was now the proud owner of a nice home with its own pool. He laughed and splashed and generally just enjoyed himself.
He was just lounging about the shallow end, when Tippy appeared at the pool edge.
“Good morning, Baby Doll!” She cooed.
“Tippy!” He was half shocked and half annoyed.
“What?” She said as she squatted down beside him, slipped off her sandals and dipped her feet in the water beside him.
“I’m kind of naked here.” He said.
“Oh honey, I have been married since I was 22 years old and I have two sons. I have seen a penis before.” she remarked casually.
He covered himself as best he could with his hands. “But not mine!”
“And whose fault is that?” She said. She stared down at his covered privates and pushed down the sunglasses she was wearing to her nose. “And now I have. I’m impressed.” She said flatly and pushed her sunglasses back up. “Let’s move along shall we?”
“Okay.” Ian wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Colton and I are having a small little lunch thingy tomorrow and we’d like you to come. Is one okay with you? Good, we thought it was time you met a few people, you’ve been a nun way too long, Baby Doll.”
Tippy splashed some water on her thighs and kept going. “Now I’m not promising you’ll get laid, but there will be a nice little smorgasbord of selections for you to choose from. We’re just gonna have hamburgers and baked beans and stuff so it’s informal.”
She looked at him still standing in the pool nonchalantly trying to cover his privates. “Not nearly as informal as you are now, but relaxed.”
“Okay…”
“You know, Baby Doll, I’ve always found that country boys have bigger penises, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Whatever.” She splashed her toes in the water a little and started rattling on, charming and infuriating Ian at the same time. “Now Colton is from Texas, and he has a really nice one. I’ve often thought how nice it would be to be one of them people that has both sets of equipment…”
“A hermaphrodite?”
“Yeah, one of them. “ She pulled down her glasses and looked at him again, “You are such a catch, smart and hung like a horse.” She pushed her glasses back up and swished her feet in the water staring again off into nowhere. “Stop playing with yourself Baby Doll, it’s kinda rude.”
“I’m not playing with myself.”
“Well then stop pretending to be modest, just relax and enjoy life, Baby Doll…Now don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoy sex, but all that thrusting…how do you boys do it? It’s so exhausting, no wonder you just roll over and go to sleep.”
Ian adored Tippy, but was really hoping she would get to the point and move on. He was getting tired of standing there clutching his ding dong, which is exactly what he felt like.
“No I think being a woman is best. You can just lay back and enjoy all your man’s hard work, so to speak, and if you get bored, you just fake an orgasm, and bring it all to a quick end. Why is it that you boys just will not cum until a woman has had an orgasm? Is it a butch thing?”
Ian started to speak and Tippy put up her hand to stop him, “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t know. You may not be into guys, but I know good and well you’ve been with a woman. You are much too hot a man to not have at least had half a dozen fake letting you take their virginity. If I thought you were stupid and Colt and I played separately, I’d have faked virginity on you by now.”
Tippy leaned back on her hands and kicked the water a little more.
“Did you by any chance have this conversation with judges during the Miss America competition?” Ian asked her.
Tippy threw back her head and laughed. “Oh my God, no! Can you imagine? Course if I had maybe I’d have beat that Miss Rhoade Island by more points. I won so I am not ashamed to admit that it was close. No honey, you didn’t dare talk about sex back then. All the male judges thought you were a virgin and all the female judges knew you were a lying bitch.” She put her hand over her mouth and just laughed.
Ian’s cell phone buzzed. Tippy stopped in mid giggle and reached for it since it was lying on top on Ian’s pants near her. He thought she was handing it him, but she flipped it open and said “Hello.”
“Oh high dear, it’s me, Tippy…his neighbor, can I help you?”
Ian tried to get her attention, “Tippy, I’ll…”
Tippy held up her hand, “Sweetheart, Ian’s busy playing with himself in the pool…”
“I am not playing with myself. Can I have my phone, please?”
She cupped her hand over the cell, “Baby Doll you are all wet and standing in water. Don’t worry I’ll take a message.” And went right back into conversation. “Oh darling, I think that’s a wonderful idea…Yes…uh huh…well I’m sure he doesn’t, but let me ask. He’s a little grumpy today.”
Tippy looked at Ian, “Baby Doll, you don’t have plans for tonight, do you? I didn’t think so...no darling…what was your name again? Wella? No honey, he doesn’t have any plans tonight. I think that will be so good for him…yes I worry about him staying at home so much. He is so good lookin’ and he has a really big penis…I’m lookin’ at it right now. He needs to get out and let people enjoy it more. Don’t you think so?”
Ian just dripped into the pool and hoped he’d drown. He made a mental note that as much as he loved Tippy to keep her separated from sane people. Wella will never ever let him forget this conversation. Once he’d held his breath as long as he could, and decided that maybe he didn’t want to die after all. He pushed out of the water and gasped for air, just in time to see Tippy twisting her hair and chatting away like a school kid on his phone.
“Oh, Wella, honey, you should have seen the look on his face! But I don’t think that Clare person will be bothering him anymore…and he seemed pretty positive he wanted it to be over, so we just saw the opportunity and went with it…”
Oh, God, maybe he did want to die.
“Honey, it’s been so nice talking with you, too. Listen I’ll take care of everything. You all just show up here, okay? Yes, I look forward to meeting you, too. Tah, honey!” She shut his cell phone and looked at Ian. “That assistant of yours is such a sweetheart!”
Ian just stared at her. For the practically the first time since she had shown up Tippy had nothing to say. She looked at Ian and smiled. Ian raised an eyebrow.
Vignette #22: Swirls
The screams in the night blistered his ears. They were his. He sat up, bathed in sweat and shivering in the fear he seemed to never be able to shake. He caught his breath after three heavy tries. Steadying himself with both hands, knotting the drenched sheet on either side of him, he forced himself to focus his eyes.
Ian swung his feet to the floor, finally taking comfort that this was real and the rest was not. He stood, alone trembling in the dark. From where he stood he could see a form on the other side of the room; afraid and staring back at him.
He took a step toward the mirror and looked at his own drenched reflection. He pointed in the dark and said out loud. “You are not allowed to cry.”
He drug himself to the bathroom, turning the taps of the vanity on and splashing himself with water. The cold only added a shiver to the trembling. He reached for the towel, wiping himself with one hand, steadying himself on the rack with the other.
“You can do this, man.” He said to himself out loud. “You can do this.”
Finding himself back in the bedroom, he pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. It trailed behind him as he walked down the spiral staircase.
The house was in so many ways still a strange place. Maybe things will be better once all the paperwork is signed and the place was legally his. Ian couldn’t help it. He always expected to be shoved back in the hole once he’d dug himself out.
He poured some bottled water in a mug and banged things around in the dark until he found a tea bag. Leaning against the cabinet top, he waited silently, mind blank as possible until the microwave bell went off. Pulling out the steaming mug, he squeezed the bag with his fingers, and added sugar, lots of sugar.
Sipping and strolling through the first floor, he looked at his home like a burglar casing the place, every tiny sound or shift in light causing him to freeze and prepare to bolt. He was a stranger here, no matter how hard to tried to convince himself.
He stopped in front of that painting on the landing. He touched it, rubbing the roughness of the dried color with the back of his hand. He loved that painting. He kept getting lost in it. It drew him in and he found strange comfort in the wild swirls and the bold primaries that somehow all came together.
Ian was no longer trembling. He took the rest of the stairs to his bedroom. Still in the dark, still swathed in bed linen, he searched for the remote and opened the glass wall. Swiping a cig and lighter as he strolled out, he lit and smoked by the railing, staring out into the night, as he did into the painting just moments ago.
Movement caught his eye. He whipped his head toward the hedges. Whatever it was darted away. His eyes scanned the backyard. Ian crushed his cigarette out in the always clean ashtray on the table. He hoisted the blanket a little closer around him. He took a deep breath and headed back for his bed.
There it was again; movement in the hedges. He tried to tell himself he was just hearing things, remembering the dream he was trying hard to forget.
The rustling got stronger and he stepped to the safety of his bedroom, but leaned out when he heard giggling. Someone was definitely in his back yard, and whoever it was had company, female company, as the giggles were definitely girlish, but he still saw nothing in the shadows.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Followed by muffled giggles.
“Oh, yeah, we do it all the time. The Mormon Tabernacle choir could have an orgy here and they wouldn’t hear. Besides, I think Miss Elizabeth is away somewhere”, a boy/man’s voice said.
Finally two figures emerged from the hedges, appearing just at the edge of the pool. It was a young man and a young girl, holding hands oblivious to the night and Ian peering at them from his bedroom.
The girl was young and pretty. The boy a little older, and without a doubt one of Colton Shore’s sons, Ian’s guess was the youngest. The moon wasn’t very bright that night and it was hard to tell for sure, but Ian was able to see the boy-man wrap himself around the girl and begin to kiss her.
The girl giggled and pushed him away. “I thought you wanted to go swimming.”
“Yeah, yeah, I do, but I thought you might give me a little kiss first”, he said.
She put her hands on her jeaned hips, “You thought I’d give you a little something else first, Jesse Shores.”
Jesse guiltily shuffled his feet and pointed his head to the ground. “Besides,” the girl said, “It’s so dark out tonight I couldn’t see even if we did.”
“Well, I can fix that”, he said and disappeared from view. Within seconds the patio flooded with light. Ian made a mental note to ask the guy where that button was when he wasn’t hiding in his bedroom spying on him.
“That better?” Jesse asked hopefully.
The girl looked around. “It’s not very romantic”, she flipped her over-blond locks off her shoulder.
“Not a problem,” he heard Jesse say with an almost dirty tone. Ian heard a switch flip and then the pool itself was illuminated from the bottom. Another quiet punch came and the patio lights went back out.
Both Ian and the girl were impressed. The girl gleefully clapped her hands.
Jesse stepped back into view and said, “Well?”
The girl coyly twirled a lock of hair and said, “Well...I’m hot.” And with that she pulled her top over her head. She unzipped her too tight jeans and looked at Jesse, “Turn around you perv!”
“Aw man!”
The girl rossed her arms and cupped her breasts in her hands, “I said turn around Jesse Shores.” He reluctantly did, and the girl stripped off her pants revealing no underwear before disappearing from view with a splash.
Jesse grinned and without hesitation stripped off himself and jumped in after her. They disappeared from sight for a moment, but Ian could soon see the two in the pool, playfully tagging each other like children unaware their bodies had fully developed and were blissfully naked.
From his growing all too familiar hiding spot, Ian could now see that Jesse had successfully maneuvered the girl to the edge, kissing her neck as keenly as the barely disturbed water lapped at the concrete of the pool. Her head was thrown back so her blond hair spread out and floated across the surface. She started moaning and the sneaky boy slid them closer and closer to the edge.
“Okay.” Ian said to himself, not really wanting to disturb the couple. “I’m not doing this again. He turned his back on the young lovers, heating up the night with their lack of control. He hit the button that closed the curtains, noisy or not and went back to bed.
Just before Ian drifted off to sleep he thought to himself, “Everybody’s getting laid in this town, but me.”
Ian swung his feet to the floor, finally taking comfort that this was real and the rest was not. He stood, alone trembling in the dark. From where he stood he could see a form on the other side of the room; afraid and staring back at him.
He took a step toward the mirror and looked at his own drenched reflection. He pointed in the dark and said out loud. “You are not allowed to cry.”
He drug himself to the bathroom, turning the taps of the vanity on and splashing himself with water. The cold only added a shiver to the trembling. He reached for the towel, wiping himself with one hand, steadying himself on the rack with the other.
“You can do this, man.” He said to himself out loud. “You can do this.”
Finding himself back in the bedroom, he pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. It trailed behind him as he walked down the spiral staircase.
The house was in so many ways still a strange place. Maybe things will be better once all the paperwork is signed and the place was legally his. Ian couldn’t help it. He always expected to be shoved back in the hole once he’d dug himself out.
He poured some bottled water in a mug and banged things around in the dark until he found a tea bag. Leaning against the cabinet top, he waited silently, mind blank as possible until the microwave bell went off. Pulling out the steaming mug, he squeezed the bag with his fingers, and added sugar, lots of sugar.
Sipping and strolling through the first floor, he looked at his home like a burglar casing the place, every tiny sound or shift in light causing him to freeze and prepare to bolt. He was a stranger here, no matter how hard to tried to convince himself.
He stopped in front of that painting on the landing. He touched it, rubbing the roughness of the dried color with the back of his hand. He loved that painting. He kept getting lost in it. It drew him in and he found strange comfort in the wild swirls and the bold primaries that somehow all came together.
Ian was no longer trembling. He took the rest of the stairs to his bedroom. Still in the dark, still swathed in bed linen, he searched for the remote and opened the glass wall. Swiping a cig and lighter as he strolled out, he lit and smoked by the railing, staring out into the night, as he did into the painting just moments ago.
Movement caught his eye. He whipped his head toward the hedges. Whatever it was darted away. His eyes scanned the backyard. Ian crushed his cigarette out in the always clean ashtray on the table. He hoisted the blanket a little closer around him. He took a deep breath and headed back for his bed.
There it was again; movement in the hedges. He tried to tell himself he was just hearing things, remembering the dream he was trying hard to forget.
The rustling got stronger and he stepped to the safety of his bedroom, but leaned out when he heard giggling. Someone was definitely in his back yard, and whoever it was had company, female company, as the giggles were definitely girlish, but he still saw nothing in the shadows.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Followed by muffled giggles.
“Oh, yeah, we do it all the time. The Mormon Tabernacle choir could have an orgy here and they wouldn’t hear. Besides, I think Miss Elizabeth is away somewhere”, a boy/man’s voice said.
Finally two figures emerged from the hedges, appearing just at the edge of the pool. It was a young man and a young girl, holding hands oblivious to the night and Ian peering at them from his bedroom.
The girl was young and pretty. The boy a little older, and without a doubt one of Colton Shore’s sons, Ian’s guess was the youngest. The moon wasn’t very bright that night and it was hard to tell for sure, but Ian was able to see the boy-man wrap himself around the girl and begin to kiss her.
The girl giggled and pushed him away. “I thought you wanted to go swimming.”
“Yeah, yeah, I do, but I thought you might give me a little kiss first”, he said.
She put her hands on her jeaned hips, “You thought I’d give you a little something else first, Jesse Shores.”
Jesse guiltily shuffled his feet and pointed his head to the ground. “Besides,” the girl said, “It’s so dark out tonight I couldn’t see even if we did.”
“Well, I can fix that”, he said and disappeared from view. Within seconds the patio flooded with light. Ian made a mental note to ask the guy where that button was when he wasn’t hiding in his bedroom spying on him.
“That better?” Jesse asked hopefully.
The girl looked around. “It’s not very romantic”, she flipped her over-blond locks off her shoulder.
“Not a problem,” he heard Jesse say with an almost dirty tone. Ian heard a switch flip and then the pool itself was illuminated from the bottom. Another quiet punch came and the patio lights went back out.
Both Ian and the girl were impressed. The girl gleefully clapped her hands.
Jesse stepped back into view and said, “Well?”
The girl coyly twirled a lock of hair and said, “Well...I’m hot.” And with that she pulled her top over her head. She unzipped her too tight jeans and looked at Jesse, “Turn around you perv!”
“Aw man!”
The girl rossed her arms and cupped her breasts in her hands, “I said turn around Jesse Shores.” He reluctantly did, and the girl stripped off her pants revealing no underwear before disappearing from view with a splash.
Jesse grinned and without hesitation stripped off himself and jumped in after her. They disappeared from sight for a moment, but Ian could soon see the two in the pool, playfully tagging each other like children unaware their bodies had fully developed and were blissfully naked.
From his growing all too familiar hiding spot, Ian could now see that Jesse had successfully maneuvered the girl to the edge, kissing her neck as keenly as the barely disturbed water lapped at the concrete of the pool. Her head was thrown back so her blond hair spread out and floated across the surface. She started moaning and the sneaky boy slid them closer and closer to the edge.
“Okay.” Ian said to himself, not really wanting to disturb the couple. “I’m not doing this again. He turned his back on the young lovers, heating up the night with their lack of control. He hit the button that closed the curtains, noisy or not and went back to bed.
Just before Ian drifted off to sleep he thought to himself, “Everybody’s getting laid in this town, but me.”
Vignette #21: Cockroaches
Uncle Nate had beat him to a pulp again. He hadn’t meant to upset him, but that seemed to be his calling.
He didn’t mean to rat either but he got dizzy and fell down by the tree between their field and Aunt Hil’s house. The next thing he knew he was lying on her couch and she was dabbing that stingy stuff on him.
“Why’d he do this to you, child?” She said so soft and tender. “He drinkin’ again?”
“Aunt Hil, when does Unk not drink?”
She smiled. “Poor bastard.” She said. Ian didn’t know if she meant him or his uncle. “Honey, why ain’t you in school?”
“Unk said I could read and write and that’s all I needed. I wasn’t to go no more. He had to have me at home.”
“Say what?” Ian didn’t have time to answer. Aunt Hil grabbed his wrist and yanked him across the field to his own house, screaming his Uncle’s name the whole way.
To his Uncle’s lapse in judgment he came stumbling out of the house trotting right up to her. He didn’t expect the swift and heavy right hook that caught him square on the chin. She kicked him in the ribs as he fell to the ground in pain. “You beat this boy?”
“Screw ya!” He recoiled.
She retorted by stomping on his elbow. Ian heard bones crack. “Watch your mouth.” Hil let go of Ian’s wrist and grabbed his uncle by the throat, yanking him like a rag doll up to his knees. “Answer me!” She slapped his face twice, once coming and once going. “You beat this boy?”
“He done fall down again Mizz Hillary. You know how dumb and stupid he is…”
She kneed him in the crotch. “One more time, you drunken liar! You beat this boy?”
“Yes’m...gaddamn...he sassed me. Just getting’ the devil outta him. You know he’s got his mama…”
She smacked him twice again. Blood from Uncle Nate’s split lip splattered across Miss Hillary’s apron smock. “You got the devil in you Nate Ransom. Don’t you ever lay a hand on this boy again! You hear me?”
“Yes’sm”
She let go of him and he crumpled in a heap in the dirt. “And what’s this about no more school? This boy is smart. He got something and he gots to go to school. He don’t got no business staying home being yer bitch!”
“But I…”
“Don’t you sass me, bastard!” She kicked him again. “If I ever even think you keeping this boy from school, I turn you into the po-lice. You got me?”
“Shit…they ain’t gonna…”
“You know what I talkin’ about. I know lotsa secrets. Some I swore I won’t tell on ma death bed, but some I just dying to tell. You got me?”
Uncle Nate rolled over and looked at her.
“You got me?”
He just held his belly and nodded his head. She kicked him one more time for good measure, adjusted her humongous breasts and sauntered back to her property.
As soon as she was out of sight, Uncle Nate made a blood spattered grab for Ian. Ian ran as fast as he could. He was out of breath by the time he made it to the barn, locking the door behind him, but a pair of hands grabbed him. Ian squirmed and screamed. A firm hand went over his mouth.
“Calm down, son, calm down!” A soothing voice spoke, and held him until he stopped squirming.
Ian looked up into a face. “Mister Jude? You scared me….”
Jude set him on his feet and got down on his knees and looked Ian in the face. “Now what’s all the…holy shit youngun...What happened to you?”
Ian looked away. He could feel Mister Jude get angry. “He do this to you?” He shook him a little. “Boy, answer me. That drunken bastard do this to you?” Jude let go of Ian and stood up. “Never mind. I know the answer to that.”
Jude slammed his fist into his palm. “You okay, sonny?”
“Uh huh.”
“You go in my room, and you stay there until I tell you its okay to come out. You hear me?”
“Yes Mister Jude”.
“I’ll take care of this. This ain’t never gonna happen again, you hear me?”
“Uh huh.”
“Now scoot! There may be an old pop in that bucket in there. Get cha some ice and drink that pop.” Ian scooted toward what used to be the old tackle room at the back of the barn. “And don’t come out til I tell ya. Hide under the bed if’n you ain’t sure it’s me!”
Ian liked Mister Jude. He didn’t know much about him, except that he had showed up during the winter and moved into the barn. Uncle Nate made Ian clean out the old tackle room for him to stay in. He was about Uncle Nate’s age, but Ian didn’t care about anything other than the fact that he was nice to him and he always made Ian feel safe.
Ian found the old silver bucket with some melted ice in it. He fished his hand around its water until he found a cube or two. He stuck on in his mouth and sucked on it. It stung a little bit, but it made his jaw feel better. He heard his Uncle bellowing his name. Ian crawled like a cockroach under the bed.
He had barely gotten to safety when he heard the door slam open and could smell his uncle’s breath.
“You hidin’ in here you wasted spunk you?”
Ian could see his boots stepping into the room. All of a sudden those boots got lifted off the floor and he heard a body slam against the wall. Uncle Nate sure was having a bad day.
“You son of a bitch!” It was Jude’s voice, fiery and scary. He heard a body slam against the wall again. “You ever lay a finger on that kid again and I’ll kill you!”
“Aw, Jude, you ain’t got no right…”
He heard the slam a third time, and then saw the boots slide to the floor heels down. “I ain’t got no right? Seven years, I served! Don’t you ever tell me I ain’t got no right!”
“You don’t know nothin…”
“I was drunk, but I remember. It took a while, but I remember it all.”
Ian heard a whomp that made him jump. “You been touching that boy?”
“Huh?”
“I know you Nate, you been touchin' that boy?”
“Hell no, I swear…”
Ian heard a thwack and a crack. “Damn, Jude, I swear!”
“Bes not be. Or you’ll answer to me. By God he may not have been born with much of a chance, and you tuck as much of the rest of it as you could. That poor kid never done nothin’ to you but be born. You let him be, or you’ll wish it was you sent up and not me.”
Ian saw Jude’s hand’s reach down and pick up Uncle Nate like a piece of paper. He heard footsteps and a splat outside the barn. He heard the barn doors shut and then silence. Ian cowered in the corner…
He didn’t mean to rat either but he got dizzy and fell down by the tree between their field and Aunt Hil’s house. The next thing he knew he was lying on her couch and she was dabbing that stingy stuff on him.
“Why’d he do this to you, child?” She said so soft and tender. “He drinkin’ again?”
“Aunt Hil, when does Unk not drink?”
She smiled. “Poor bastard.” She said. Ian didn’t know if she meant him or his uncle. “Honey, why ain’t you in school?”
“Unk said I could read and write and that’s all I needed. I wasn’t to go no more. He had to have me at home.”
“Say what?” Ian didn’t have time to answer. Aunt Hil grabbed his wrist and yanked him across the field to his own house, screaming his Uncle’s name the whole way.
To his Uncle’s lapse in judgment he came stumbling out of the house trotting right up to her. He didn’t expect the swift and heavy right hook that caught him square on the chin. She kicked him in the ribs as he fell to the ground in pain. “You beat this boy?”
“Screw ya!” He recoiled.
She retorted by stomping on his elbow. Ian heard bones crack. “Watch your mouth.” Hil let go of Ian’s wrist and grabbed his uncle by the throat, yanking him like a rag doll up to his knees. “Answer me!” She slapped his face twice, once coming and once going. “You beat this boy?”
“He done fall down again Mizz Hillary. You know how dumb and stupid he is…”
She kneed him in the crotch. “One more time, you drunken liar! You beat this boy?”
“Yes’m...gaddamn...he sassed me. Just getting’ the devil outta him. You know he’s got his mama…”
She smacked him twice again. Blood from Uncle Nate’s split lip splattered across Miss Hillary’s apron smock. “You got the devil in you Nate Ransom. Don’t you ever lay a hand on this boy again! You hear me?”
“Yes’sm”
She let go of him and he crumpled in a heap in the dirt. “And what’s this about no more school? This boy is smart. He got something and he gots to go to school. He don’t got no business staying home being yer bitch!”
“But I…”
“Don’t you sass me, bastard!” She kicked him again. “If I ever even think you keeping this boy from school, I turn you into the po-lice. You got me?”
“Shit…they ain’t gonna…”
“You know what I talkin’ about. I know lotsa secrets. Some I swore I won’t tell on ma death bed, but some I just dying to tell. You got me?”
Uncle Nate rolled over and looked at her.
“You got me?”
He just held his belly and nodded his head. She kicked him one more time for good measure, adjusted her humongous breasts and sauntered back to her property.
As soon as she was out of sight, Uncle Nate made a blood spattered grab for Ian. Ian ran as fast as he could. He was out of breath by the time he made it to the barn, locking the door behind him, but a pair of hands grabbed him. Ian squirmed and screamed. A firm hand went over his mouth.
“Calm down, son, calm down!” A soothing voice spoke, and held him until he stopped squirming.
Ian looked up into a face. “Mister Jude? You scared me….”
Jude set him on his feet and got down on his knees and looked Ian in the face. “Now what’s all the…holy shit youngun...What happened to you?”
Ian looked away. He could feel Mister Jude get angry. “He do this to you?” He shook him a little. “Boy, answer me. That drunken bastard do this to you?” Jude let go of Ian and stood up. “Never mind. I know the answer to that.”
Jude slammed his fist into his palm. “You okay, sonny?”
“Uh huh.”
“You go in my room, and you stay there until I tell you its okay to come out. You hear me?”
“Yes Mister Jude”.
“I’ll take care of this. This ain’t never gonna happen again, you hear me?”
“Uh huh.”
“Now scoot! There may be an old pop in that bucket in there. Get cha some ice and drink that pop.” Ian scooted toward what used to be the old tackle room at the back of the barn. “And don’t come out til I tell ya. Hide under the bed if’n you ain’t sure it’s me!”
Ian liked Mister Jude. He didn’t know much about him, except that he had showed up during the winter and moved into the barn. Uncle Nate made Ian clean out the old tackle room for him to stay in. He was about Uncle Nate’s age, but Ian didn’t care about anything other than the fact that he was nice to him and he always made Ian feel safe.
Ian found the old silver bucket with some melted ice in it. He fished his hand around its water until he found a cube or two. He stuck on in his mouth and sucked on it. It stung a little bit, but it made his jaw feel better. He heard his Uncle bellowing his name. Ian crawled like a cockroach under the bed.
He had barely gotten to safety when he heard the door slam open and could smell his uncle’s breath.
“You hidin’ in here you wasted spunk you?”
Ian could see his boots stepping into the room. All of a sudden those boots got lifted off the floor and he heard a body slam against the wall. Uncle Nate sure was having a bad day.
“You son of a bitch!” It was Jude’s voice, fiery and scary. He heard a body slam against the wall again. “You ever lay a finger on that kid again and I’ll kill you!”
“Aw, Jude, you ain’t got no right…”
He heard the slam a third time, and then saw the boots slide to the floor heels down. “I ain’t got no right? Seven years, I served! Don’t you ever tell me I ain’t got no right!”
“You don’t know nothin…”
“I was drunk, but I remember. It took a while, but I remember it all.”
Ian heard a whomp that made him jump. “You been touching that boy?”
“Huh?”
“I know you Nate, you been touchin' that boy?”
“Hell no, I swear…”
Ian heard a thwack and a crack. “Damn, Jude, I swear!”
“Bes not be. Or you’ll answer to me. By God he may not have been born with much of a chance, and you tuck as much of the rest of it as you could. That poor kid never done nothin’ to you but be born. You let him be, or you’ll wish it was you sent up and not me.”
Ian saw Jude’s hand’s reach down and pick up Uncle Nate like a piece of paper. He heard footsteps and a splat outside the barn. He heard the barn doors shut and then silence. Ian cowered in the corner…
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