King Perry (7 page)

In a hoarse whisper, he says, “Are you going to jack me off here?”

“No thanks,” I say, with an exaggerated whisper to match his.

He lies still and waits for a longer amount of time. But still, nothing happens. A significant boat whistle rings out from the other side of the island, which means either “last call for happy hour” or our ride is getting ready to chug home for the night.

“
Vin.
”

“
Yeah
?”

I love that we’re whispering. With the ocean behind us, yelling at the top of our lungs would get swallowed up.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” Perry’s voice is shrill but still quiet, his body rigid next to mine.

“I’ll answer that. But first you have to tell me something.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you do. Why did you come to the pier, Perry? The real reason.”

“
We have to go.
”

He starts to rise. I push his body back down. He resists, scoots around to face me, and I can see the fear in his eyes.

“Why did you decide to come with me, Perry?”

“Vin,
c’mon.
”

“Why show up on the dock today? The reason besides handing me the check.”

“I don’t know. Why does this even matter right now?”

“That boat horn meant the twenty-minute warning. They tell everyone departure is fifteen minutes away, but it’s actually twenty minutes.”

“Vin, we have to go. What are we doing here?”

“Relax, Perry. I’ll answer you after
you
answer me. There’s a sexy, invisible
x
in relax, if you let it be there. Listen to the word and I’ll stutter my throat, like this, reeeeelaaaaaaaa—”

“
I wanted to have sex with you
,” he says, his voice getting tighter. “Jesus, you maniac, I just wanted to, I don’t know. People can get sex anywhere in this city and I haven’t been with a guy in over a year. I don’t date anymore. It’s getting to the point where I don’t try. It’s too much work and guys in this town are sometimes real game players, so I—”

He sinks deeper, against his will, as it now comes out easily, the thing he was fighting, a big piece of his resistance.

“After Tuesday, I thought you were a psycho, of course.”

I say, “Of course.”

“But I showed up to see if I’d feel that spark of chemistry or whatever. I don’t feel it very often anymore. I still want to fall in love someday.”

“Thank you. And did you feel that spark on the pier?”

“Yes, but trust me, it’s gone now.”

Perry says nothing more.

Neither do I.

Finally he says, “I drank two vodka cranberries before the art gallery. I wasn’t sure if I was a little buzzed and horny Tuesday night or I actually was interested in you. I enjoyed myself, for a while at least, until you started making your big speech about my dad.”

“Yeah, you had mentioned the drinks.”

“By the way, that’s not me bringing up the topic of my dad.”

I nod and stare back at him. His eyes are so blue.

He says, “Okay, that’s the answer to your question. I liked our little spark. So, what’s the plan?”

I remain quiet for a moment.

“Roll over again and face the stone wall.”

He complies. This may go easier if he can’t see my face right now.

With a buzz in my throat, I say, “You liiiiiiiike me.”

Perry’s chest tenses. “You asshole, I answered—”

“What we’re doing here, Perry, is resting.”

“
Vin.
”

“Perry.”

I no longer hide my full voice, preferring to employ the purr of my authority. I snuggle down into him so that my warm breath is right in his ear, my hand on his stomach. I can feel his heartbeat this way.

“We’re spending the night on Alcatraz. So relax. Take a deep breath.”

I push on his stomach through his jacket, forcing a small exhale. He inhales with exaggeration, if only to pacify me.

“Okay, I’m breathing. So. The real reason?”

“We’re spending the night on Alcatraz.”

He pauses and listens to the words, which are gone already, smashed against the rocks by strong ocean waves.

“You were kidding. We can’t do that.”

“We can. Because we are. Relax your body. Reeelaaaaaaaaax.”

“It’s illegal,” he says, his voice sharp.

“And dangerous,” I add, nibbling his ear.

I massage the front of his throat with the tips of my fingers and kiss the side of his head.

He says, “Dude, you never said—”

“First off, you gotta stop with the word
dude
. And secondly, have you ever done anything so significantly outrageous, so beautiful and insane, that on days when your life feels dull, these shining moments leap out? Do you have an answer to the question ‘Did I live? Did I touch the world?’”

Forgive the archer, Perry, and let this golden tip pierce you.

“Do you have those sparkling days? Do you have Diamond Days, Perry?”

I breathe my love into him, stroking his throat. Perry’s major muscles remain tense, but other parts of him have already begun an unconscious surrender.

I wrap my arms tightly around him.

“Patronizing jerk,” he says, his tone surprisingly soft for words so strong. “I’ve—”

“Have you ever made love in the shadow of a haunted prison?”

Breathe, Vin. Elongate.

I whisper, “
Under the stars….
”

His body trembles, and a spasm travels through him. An influx of king energy can do this, exhaust you when you’re not ready for it. Something in him lets go. All that tension I stirred up in him floods out, dragging more of his resistance out to sea.

“The stars,” I say, using a husky tone, “shimmering, blinking, silently skidding in and out of existence, shone down upon them, basking the kings in every region, revealing secrets to those who dared to stare at the midnight sky.”

The sky is a darker gray, but it’s nowhere near nightfall.

Nap time.

Perry says, “We can’t.”

“You have no idea what you’re capable of. Inside you lives a flavor of giftedness that I already see and you cannot. It’s coming for you, Perry, make no mistake. On the pier a while ago, back when I suggested this weekend might all be bullshit? I lied. It’s not bullshit. You’re going to get
kinged
.”

The words cannot possibly be comforting, only further confirmation that I am delusional. But he does relax somehow, takes another deeper breath, and maybe he’s winding up to argue more, but all that fresh ocean air has the impact of swallowing a whole box of Tic-Tacs, and he gasps for another breath, and this one is even deeper.

Each minute submission opens the next door, the next step down, down, down. Time to go into the cave.

“The kings loved the cool fragrance of inky night, a darkness so much like when you close your eyes. Try it now, Perry. Close your eyes and see the pinpricks of light, almost like stars.”

“No,” he whispers.

I growl against him to quiet him.

“Perry, in a few minutes the second boat siren will announce the ten-minute departure, which they tell everybody is the five-minute departure. Jogging, it will take us four minutes to reach the dock. I’ve timed it. For now, I’ll coax you into this relaxed state, like a guided meditation, and when the next boat horn blows, we’ll sit up and discuss it and still have enough time to make the ferry. Okay, buddy? I want you to make this decision relaxed, not stressed. I only need a few minutes.”

Before he can argue more, I continue.

“Back in the kingdom, they made love under the stars all the time,” I say, using my thick voice, the one that sometimes gets quieter when the man is not expecting it, and he finds himself straining to catch the words.

“The kings celebrated their bodies with relish, the chunky kings and the oddly thin. Those with small dicks and those with long beards. They laughed at themselves naked, laughed with joy to live in their physical bodies and be at such peace. Thick-necked muscle studs kissed their nerdy boyfriends under the stars, men loving each other until each one radiated light. The Night Walker hiked the rugged hills of North Carolina, inhaling the humid scent of decaying green.”

His shoulders droop. Tense as Perry is, he also hasn’t slept.

“King Augustus the Zephyr would glide through German forests, practicing silence, listening for the stories told by leaves brushing together. Can you hear them, Perry, the leaves brushing together, whispering their tales?”

A thousand leaves in the enormous tree above us participate in my deception, rubbing their veiny little hands against their neighbors. I feel his heartbeat slow, and I take deep breaths, guiding his breath to match mine. Soon our chests rise and fall together.

“The Butterfly King fluttered near his favorite Manhattan bakery, his face pointed skyward, breathing the warm scent of night-baked sourdough, catching occasional wafts of sweet, sugary frosting. He grows a butterfly army in New York, powerful, savvy men taking back their city, street by street. Such is their love for each other and the Butterfly King….”

He sags.

I repeat certain lines for emphasis and Perry falls further. Softer and slower. Softer.
Slower
. My hand strokes his neck, diffusing love into Perry, and my repetitive breathing slows while I rock him into a gentle slumber. All my love, Perry.

My new friend surrenders to unconsciousness, the reward for his latest submission.

More time passes. No boat siren.

I love it when things work out in my favor. I must write the captain a thank-you card.

Sleep well, Perry Mangin.

When you wake, great trials await us.

Four

P
ERRY
still sleeps in our green bedroom when I return from my errand, and I wrap myself around him, easing in slowly so as to not wake him. As my arm touches his chest and grows heavier against him by small degrees, I think about snow falling, soft, delicate flakes, gradually making their presence known. I must be careful, very careful.

Snowflakes… snowflakes….

Our bodies touch in a more meaningful way, and it won’t take long before I stop withholding the true weight of my arm, the presence of my hips.

While I’m settling in, I have a few minutes to think about Billy. I have to work this out of my system. I can’t think about him while I’m kinging Perry. And I don’t hate him anymore. I’m over….

No, Vin, don’t lie.

I hate him, but in smaller measure. Some days I almost don’t hate him. I try not to spend time wondering about Billy’s life, just extend some general empathy his way. But then I hear his drunken slur in my head, his wet, slippery words calling me, daring me to come up.

You tired of those rats yet?

He thought I wouldn’t recognize the dare behind his words, or hear the scraping metal chair legs on the linoleum floor, his Wednesday night poker buddies deliberately quieter while Billy held the basement door open.

Billy’s invitation was soiled. I hate that word, the greasy way it rolls around your mouth.
Sssssoooooooiled
.

Not a great time to dwell on that shit. Think beautiful, Vin.

A few word games later and I can actually enjoy the darkening sky, the slow thudding fall of a darker gray. The day part of “today” is officially over.

Gray light slips away, the curtain drawn, and Perry in my arms.

He’s so warm.

I have to tell him to….

H
E
SAYS
, “Night. It’s
fucking
night
.”

Huh?

Sleep is good but wake up fast; Perry is freaking out. No more distractions.
Wake up!

I say, “Don’t yell. I’m awake. Hang on.”

Perry’s entire body tenses, every muscle at once. “Fuck!”

I’m ready. I’m awake now.

He says, “It’s night.
It’s night.
I don’t fucking believe this.”

“Don’t worry, Perry, I’ve seen this happen, night following a few hours after day. It only lasts until just before morning and then it goes away.”

“You tricked me to sleep,” he says, a shrillness rising in him. “I was going to leave.”

He pushes himself up on his right side.

I say, “I prefer coaxed. But I like words with the letter
x
in them. Tricked has a
k
sound.
K
, in some ways, is the arch nemesis of
x
, which is awkward at Christmas because they actually have relatives in common.”

“Holy shit.” Perry bounces to his knees and then his feet, ready to run with nowhere to go. “I could get fired for this. Of course I’ll be fired. Oh God, that’s a given.”

“Relax,” I say, sitting up and offering a hand to him. “You gotta relax, Perry. Trust me on this.”

He says, “Prison time is on the table. This is a
federal crime
.”

“True. But it’s only a federal crime if we are caught. Otherwise, it’s an adventure.”

“Pretty sure it’s still a crime.”

His tone is icy.

A section of San Francisco’s skyline provides a fairly constant glow to our surroundings, allowing me to read the big emotions on Perry’s face: fear, anger, and panic, all fighting for dominance.