Sociopath? (30 page)

The regulars could imagine how you might call
this young fella’ a beautiful boy if you were, well, inclined that
way.

Bob Bolover had jumped off his stool. He was
standing now, tensely, staring at Rafe with eyes dazed by anger and
confusion. His normal reaction would have been to strike out with
his fists but he was numbed into inaction by sheer disbelief about
what was happening.

“You’re insane!” He looked around at the
others in the room. “He’s fucking insane! I don’t even know
him!”

The attention of the bar patrons was captured
by the fascinating scene being played out before them. Their old
pal, Republican-voting, NASCAR watching, high score-bowling, beer
swilling, jeans wearing Good Old Boy, Bob, versus the sweet young
piece of pansy ass. Hell, there wasn’t anything on the t.v. that
could match this for sheer entertainment value.

“How can you hurt me this way, Daddy, when
you told me you loved me?” Rafe was pleading now, “It’s because
you’re ashamed of me in front of your friends, isn’t it?” With
that, he laid his head down on the bar and began to sob.

If Bob had wanted to resort to violence, it
was too late now. It would look like he was beating up on
Bambi.

“Jesus, Bob, why don’t you take the poor kid
out and love him up a little and make him feel better?” a man
called out from down the bar.

“Shut up, just shut the fuck up!” Bob yelled.
“You guys know me! You know I’m no fucking queer! You can’t believe
this bullshit story!”

Slowly, Rafe lifted his head, tears still
flowing down his cheeks. “I guess you just used me,” he said
softly. He walked slowly toward the door, head hanging in
dejection. Silently they all watched him go.

“You guys have to know it’s a lie, don’t
you?” Bob begged.

“He seemed awful believable to me, Bob,” one
of his teammates opined. “Appeared genuinely heartbroken. Kid
deserves an Academy Award if he was acting.”

“He was acting!” Bob insisted.

“But why?” another bowler asked. “That’s the
question? What’s his motive, Bob? Seems crazy to think he’d just
waltz in off the street and accuse a perfect stranger of such a
thing for the hell of it.”

“I don’t know what his motive is!”

“You always have been apeshit about gays,
Bob. You even got arrested for beating that one up. Maybe now we
know it’s to cover up how you really are.”

“Fuck you guys! You’re as nuts as he is. I’m
getting the hell out of here.”

“Yeah, maybe you ought to go on down to the
Crystal Cave (a well-known gay bar). That’s probably where your
pretty boy is right now. Maybe you can sweet talk your way back
into his good graces.”

They all laughed as he went storming out the
door.

*

Just as Bob had his hand on his car’s door
handle. Rafe appeared silently from around the back.

“I’m going to kill you!” Bob promised, making
a frantic grab but Rafe was quicker and the next thing Bob knew,
one arm was around his neck and a knife point was at his throat,
right at the bottom of his ear. Two men huddled outside Granger’s
front door smoking a cigarette. All they saw was the two bodies
pressed tightly together, Rafe’s arm around Bob’s neck in what
appeared to be a loving embrace.

“Kiss me,” Rafe told him.

“No!” Bob roared.

“Either you give me a big kiss or I’ll slit
your fucking throat.” The knife’s point pressed a little harder.
The voice was icy and lethal. Bob knew he was a dead man if he
didn’t do as he was told.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against
Rafe’s. Now the tears, tears of shame and frustration, were running
down Bob’s face. The smokers pointed and snickered, then
disappeared inside to tell the others “the rest of the story”, how
Bob and the boy had met outside and exchanged a long romantic kiss.
Guess what the kid was saying must be true. Who’d a’ thunk it, old
Bob, the gay-hater?

The next thing Bob knew, he heard a chuckle
and Rafe was gone, just disappeared like mist, like he’d never been
there at all.

Bob drove home knowing no one would ever
believe him now and even if, by some chance, they did, they’d have
nothing but contempt for him for letting some teenage faggot so
thoroughly play him. He’d never be able to face his bowling team
again and it was for sure he’d never step foot inside Granger’s
again either. And, he’d kissed another male! No matter if he was in
fear of his life or not, he’d actually kissed another man! Sweet
Jesus, it made him sick to even think about it and he knew he never
would quit thinking about it. He even dreamed about it that night
and woke up nauseated and sweating, with the feel of Rafe’s lips
against his.

*

“Oh, my God!” They were all sitting around
the breakfast table. Chas and Vic had invited him over for
breakfast burritos. Chas was glancing through the morning
paper.

“What, Chas?”

“That guy that beat you up, Vic? He committed
suicide! Hung himself!”

They both looked at Rafe and shivered a
little looking into his ice water eyes.

“Did you have something to do with this
Rafe?” Vic asked him in a hushed tone.

Rafe shrugged. “I might have told him the
first part of the story but he figured out the ending on his
own.”

* *

Rafe - I got your e-mail address from Jeri,
your fan club president. I’d like to do a follow-up story to the
one we did last year. Get in contact with me when you get back to
Maryland so we can set something up. My phone number is
410-001-2987, in case, you lost my card.

Carole.Blair@Channel5news

*

Delete.

*

From: Professor Mowbray, Mathematics Chair,
Princeton University

To: Rafe Vincennes

Dear Mr Vincennes:

I am writing to inform you that you have been
named Student of the Year in Mathematics. I’m sure you are aware
this is the highest honor our department can bestow. This is the
third year in a row you’ve been so honored, an unprecedented
achievement. The award is given at our annual Math Banquet. This
year the banquet will be held on April 27 at 6:00. Although you
have not attended in the past, we would very much appreciate it if
you would plan to be present this year. Please RSVP by April
12.

*

Delete.

*

Rafe - Got your e-mail addy from Jeri. Get
ready, Boy, you’re moving up this summer. I’ve got your schedule
all planned out. Chet

*

Chet - Whatever you say, Boss. Rafe

*

Rafe, isn’t it strange to think we’ll both be
seniors next year? I need to be deciding what I’m going to do after
high school since the Vincennes females, unlike you guys, can go
wherever they want. I’m seriously thinking about just going to the
U of M and sticking around close here. I still don’t know what I
want to be when I grow up! I’m dating Todd Mackey now. It’s no
great love affair but I like knowing there is one person that I can
count on doing things with. Shasta is fine, growing. Well, she’s
not actually growing very much. I think she weighs about 5 lbs now.
Only 2 weeks until you get home. I can’t wait to see you! Love,
Laney

*

Rafe, Only two weeks ‘til you get home. We
can’t wait to see you! Jeri & All

*

Christ, Lane, be a little adventuresome! Go
south or west or somewhere into a completely different environment!
You’re lucky you can consider all the possibilities and decide what
sounds exciting. When I come and see you at college, I want to go
somewhere interesting, like Albuquerque Fucking New Mexico or
someplace! Took Hawk to the vet for a check up and he weighs 73
pounds. I think he’s going to be bigger than Raven. Love R

*

“Renny?”

“Yeah, Gil, what’s up?”

“I need a favor but before I get to that, I
need to vent. You inflicted that son of yours on me so you owe it
to me to listen.”

“Fire away, Gil, I’ll I’ll sit here until
you’ve had your say. What’s Rafe been getting into now.”

Renny could hear Gil release a long
breath.

“I swear I’m glad he came to Princeton in my
last four years because after dealing with him, I really need to
retire. I couldn’t face another one like Rafe, Renny. He’s the most
frustrating and exasperating student I’ve ever had to deal
with.”

“Spill it, Gil.”

“Well, first, I can’t talk about him without
using a whole string of superlatives, both positive and negative.
Academically, he may be the most gifted student we’ve ever had and
he seems to do it with one hand behind his back, Ren, like he only
puts in the minimal amount of effort it takes to accomplish what he
needs to accomplish. He won’t do anything to capitalize on his
achievements to benefit either himself or Princeton. For instance,
do you think he’s ever given an interview to any sports reporter
despite his athletic record?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me the
answer’s no.”

“The answer is no, although oddly enough,
that’s ultimately worked in his favor, not that I think he cares.
The coaches actually love it because it seems like the more he
avoids the press, the more intrigued with him they become. It’s
almost like the usual story of the triumphant sports hero is old
hat and the new story is the mysterious anti-hero. It’s all become
part of his mystique.

Now he’s become the darling of the gay
community. You probably know his landlords are Chas Chatham and
Victor Bollan? Chas is a prominent architect and Victor is some
kind of computer software wizard. They’re gay.”

“Yeah, Laney, told me about them.”

“Well, Victor got the shit kicked out of him
by some gay-bashing bigot sometime in January, I think it was. He
went to court and bonded out right away. Everybody figured he’d get
a slap on the wrist but the next thing you know, the guy hangs
himself and talk on the street is Rafe had something to do with it.
I don’t know if it’s true, Ren, and I don’t want to know. Rafe cost
me my Professor of Womens Studies, someone who was renowned in her
field, so if his penchant for exacting extreme justice has reared
its ugly head again, I’d just as soon be kept in the dark this
time. But, anyway, the gays all believe it and he’s become their
Knight in Shining Armor. Now a whole group of them come to his
games and more than that, they donate money to the Princeton
athletic program and they are a bunch who are above-average
affluent so it isn’t just small change. We’ve received checks
totaling thousands of dollars with the notation “on behalf of Rafe
Vincennes”. It’s just unheard of.

“Are we getting anywhere close to the favor,
Gil?” Renny asked in amusement.

“Yes, I’m getting to that right now. Rafe was
just named Mathematics Student of the Year for the third time, an
unbelievable honor. And, believe me, Renny, it wasn’t because they
wanted to do it. They’d have much preferred to give it to one of
their more cooperative kids, one who belongs to the Math Club, and
gets involved in their projects and actually seems to like
Math.

“So why didn’t they?”

“Because it would look like a farce if they
didn’t give it to Rafe when no one deserves it as much. Here’s
another example of what I was talking about earlier. Rafe wrote
some kind of analysis paper for an assignment. I’m not that great
at Math myself so I don’t understand what it was about but it was
so good, his professor sent it on the Journal of Mathematics, the
most prestigious publication in the field. And they printed it and
then requested something else from him. Most students would kill to
be published in the JM and it brings huge kudos to the Department
for one of their kids to be singled out in that way, but, you know,
Rafe said he only did the first one for a grade and he wasn’t
interested in writing anything else. Here’s the nut of my call.
Rafe didn’t go to the awards banquet the last two years. The Head
sent him an e-mail about it this year and asked for an RSVP by
April 12, which he never got. He came to me and asked me to order
Rafe to come to the dinner. I mean, Christ, Ren, three times they
name him Student of the Year and he doesn’t even bother to pay lip
service to that kind of tribute! I told Mowbray I flatly cannot
order a student to attend an award ceremony but maybe I could
somehow persuade him to go.”

“And that’s where I come in?”

“That’s where you come in, Pops.”

“Okay, tell your guy he’ll be there.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it, Ren.”

“Seems like the least I can do after what
Rafe’s put you through.”

*

Rafe - Put the Mathematics Award Banquet on
your calendar. You will be attending. And you need to RSVP with an
apology for being so late in responding. Then reply to me and
confirm. Dad

*

Goddamn it! He didn’t want to spend an
evening at a fucking boring Math Awards banquet! And where in the
hell does Dad get his information? He’s got to have a spy on
campus, but who? Still, the man on the other end of the e-mail
owned his car and was paying his rent so…...

*

Dad - Message received. RSVP sent w/apology.
R

*

To: Professor Mowbray

From: Rafe Vincennes

Dear Professor Mowbray: I’d like to apologize
for inadvertently deleting your e-mail re: the Awards Banquet. I
am, of course, thrilled by the honor the Department has given me
and I’ll be pleased to attend the ceremony. Rafe Vincennes

*

He sent a copy to Renny.

Renny forwarded a copy to Gil.

*

Rafe - I got your e-mail address from your
sister. I’ve got a proposition for you. Steve, our lead guitarist,
is going to be gone in August. He teaches at Georgetown and has the
opportunity to spend the month in England. Would you be interested
in sitting in with us? I can’t think of anyone else who could do it
and sound good on such short notice. I’d owe you big time if you
say yes. Please let me know asap. Duke