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The houses in rossford


CHAPTER
SIX

MONEY/ TROUBLE CONTINUED

“Oh, hell, I don’t even know,” Dena said, gesticulating with the milkshake. “I mean, we’ve all got problems. Right?”
When Milo said nothing she said, “Right?”
“Oh. Yeah. I just thought you were being rhetorical.”
Dena looked out of the window in the shake shop.
“I never come up to the strip,” she said. “I always see kids who go to the strip and think… There’s this really rich area of town, called East Havens. Those bitches… I always think East Haven bitches come up here and have a good time and the girls laugh and toss their hair and say shit like, ‘Oh, my Gawd!’ and ‘Totally!’ And they all have names like Tiffany… Or Amber… or… What’s a new one now?”
“Heather?”
“Oh, Heather’s an old one. That’s like 1990. Heather…? She got knocked up at Prom and has a kid my age.”
Milo snorted his shake and said, “And his name is Lake. Or Langston. Or something like that.”
“Oh, God, yes! See, Milo. I knew I could count on you.”
“Dena, have you just considered this: I mean, I saw the house you live in… It’s not like you’re poor and on the wrong side of the tracks. Any of you.”
Dena frowned.
“You got a point,” she said, at last. “I mean, Brendan carries his cell phone with him wherever he goes, and his house… It’s not pretty. But it is big. You know, its one of those new fangled ones for attorneys who want swimming pools in their backyards surrounded by other attorneys who have swimming pools in their backyards. And one thing I don’t get… they all barbecue in their driveways, with the garage open. Why do they do that?”
“Does every house look a like?”
“Yes,” Dena said. “I mean… At least I live in an old neighborhood! But… why do we do that? Why do we pretend to be poor?”
Milo shrugged.
“Why did I steal a car?”
“Why did you steal a car?”
Milo blew out his cheeks and put his chin on his fist.
“If I say I was bored…”
“That’s that standard, stupid answer.”
“I know,” Milo said.
“I’ve been thinking about it, Dena. I mean, seriously thinking about why the fuck I stole someone’s car and I think… I really do believe it’s because I wanted to get thrown out. It’s like… I wanted my parents to pick me up and throw me as far as they could. And see where I landed. Was that stupid?”
“It was desperate,” Dena said.
Milo nodded.
“Yeah… But when you say it was desperate, that’s a little bit like what a pop psychologist would say to excuse really dumb behavior. He was frustrated. He was acting out of desperation. I think this once I’d settle for saying what I did was stupid.”
Dena grinned, and then she chuckled. And then she began laughing.
“What?”
“Well,” Dena said, after raising a finger to give herself time to breathe, “When you consider that your parents threw you as far as they could and you only ended up across two state line. And in Indiana of all places, I’d say… yeah… It was kind of stupid.”

“Well, I don’t know if you heard this from Daniel or not,” Bob said. “But I would suggest that you take a car down there.”
“It’s not like it used to be,” Barb chimed in, shaking her head in disapproval. “What with Nine Eleven and all the strange things they have about what you can take onto a plane and what you can’t. You never know when someone’s gonna have to open your bag and then, oops, there’s half a million dollars. And how the hell do you explain that?”
“So your best bet it to get a good car and just drive,” Bob reiterated. “Do you know when you’ll be going?”
Fenn looked at Todd, and then said, “I still have the show to do.”
“I guess I could go,” Todd said. “That’s a lot of days away from my work.”
“Todd,” Barb patted his hand as if he were simple. “It’s four hundred thousand dollars. You can do any work you want to.”
“Hell, Bob threw up his hands. “You could make a documentary out of it. How I smuggled half a million dollars our of the country!”
“Well, you’d need a second,” Fenn said. “You know. A driving partner.”
“Take me!” Noah nearly shouted.
“Please, it’s just the adventure I need. I’m so useless around here. Take me.”
“You sure about that?” Todd said. “I mean, how many days drive is it?”
“Back in the Fifties about three,” said Barb.
“I’d say three at a leisurely pace now,” said Fenn. “My parents would have done it in two. But they didn’t do leisurely paces.
“And then, once you get to Miami, you gotta get to the Keys.”
“Are we really doing this?” Todd said.
“Well, we’re really NOT going to sit around with a bag full of money in the house,” Fenn said.
“Todd doesn’t want to go,” Paul observed. “I’ll go.”
Fenn looked at him.
“It means I’ll miss one rehearsal, right?”
“I guess,” Fenn said, listing off days on his fingers. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember what as going on at the theatre.
“Well, great! And this’ll be our way of earning our cut.”
“What is our cut?” Noah said.
“What is your cut for that matter?” Fenn said to Barb and Bob.
They looked at each other and laughed.
“This is our cut,” Bob said. “We haven’t planned a money run for almost fifty years.”
“You’ve done this before?” Paul said.
“How did you think we got Raoul?” said Barb.
“That’s the contact,” Fenn explained.
“Or knew about the bank?” said Bob.
“Should we ask exactly what you guys were doing in the Fifties?” Fenn said.
“No,” Barb murmured reflexively. “It’s probably best that you don’t.”

“I don’t understand what you’re so stressed out about?” Fenn said from where he sat on the edge of the bed.
Todd, who was combing his spiky hair in the mirror, stopped and rounded the bed to sit next to Fenn.
“It’s not that I don’t like Paul and Noah.”
“Yes?”
“But… I mean, does it even sound right to give our money to two pornstars and then trust them to make it safely to the Florida Keys and… where ever else?”
“Well, if you feel that way, then why don’t you go?”
“I don’t want to be in a car for three days, and I don’t know Paul and Noah the way you do.”
“No one knows Noah. Not really. You know, I think they make you nervous.”
“They’re pornstars!” Todd hissed.
“Well, they were pornstars. Now they’re our housemates. And business partners. Why, if Paul hadn’t called us into the house to rescue Noah, then that bag of money would be buying new patrol cars for the Port Ridge Police Department instead of… Being with us.”
Todd said nothing.
“Have we decided exactly when this money run is going to happen?”
“Two days from now, right?”
“Wednesday…. Hold on…”
Fenn picked up the phone. He dialed a number.
“Yeah… It’s me. I know it’s late. Yes! I know what time it is. How do you like this? Would you like to make the money run to the Caymans?”
Todd’s ears perked up. He leaned over Fenn, trying to hear the conversation, but Fenn put a hand in his face and pushed him away.
“Yeah. Yeahhhh… I know. Paul and Noah. We need you as supervision. Really? Oh, God, I thought you’d say no. I KNEW you were going to say no. I love you… I know you do. All right. All right. Bye.”
Fenn hung up the phone and sat on the edge of the bed, looking very pleased.
“I got the only person I knew that you would know was beyond reproach. He’ll be going with the boys. It’ll be just like one of those a rabbi walks into a bar jokes.”
“You got a rabbi?”
“I got a priest.”
Todd looked at him.
“I got Dan Malloy.”

“Is this film or digital?” Noah said.
“Uh…” Paul was staring at the camera like it was a puzzle. “It’s digital. I think we can load it right onto the computer. You ever done this before?”
“I’ve done this a lot before. You have too.”
“You know what I mean. Filmed?”
“I’ve seen Guy do it. If his dumb ass can shoot trash, then you know we can.”
“I’ll just… put it on the tripod like this… Make sure it’s seeing us.”
Then Paul looked back at Todd’s camera and said, “How do we know it’s seeing us?”
“Look, whatever we screw up we can re-shoot. And what we don’t like we can always edit out.”
Noah climbed off of the bed and approached Paul. Standing on the tips of his toes, he folded his fingers in Paul’s hair and kissed him deeply on the mouth. Paul was looking at the camera. He kissed Noah back; his mouth lingered on Noah’s lips pulling on his lips, his tongue twisting with Noah’s.
“It’s weird thinking of the camera on us.”
“We’ve done this shit a million times. Just… don’t think of the camera.”
“But it was different.”
In the past there were only two ways Paul had sex: on camera, or when he was high, and usually not with the same person. As Noah kissed him and began to pull up his knit shirt, kissing all over his chest, he realized that those props were gone.
“Imagine all of those people that’ll be watching,” Noah murmured. “All of those fucking people watching you… Fuck me…”
Every night Paul fucked Noah in the dark it was a high. His sex life had never belonged to him. It had always been someone else’s property. Now, the night covered them, fused them together, and they became something like the tree that falls in the forest. Did they make a sound? Whatever the tree made was what they made, twisting their bodies together, inserting fingers into tightness, tongues into pungent wetness, cock into crack into mouth and ass.
Noah’s mouth took his penis. Noah struggled to fit it all the way in, and Paul felt himself growing and growing under Noah’s tongue, the way he pulled up and down. He moaned and moved to the bed, struggling to pull off his jeans.
“No,” he murmured.
Noah didn’t hear him. Noah’s mouth went between his legs, to his scrotum, onto his ass, into his asshole, back to his cock, to balls to asshole again, kissing thighs.
“No…” Paul murmured, his penis large, raging, taken in by Noah’s mouth. I don’t think I’ll think of all those people watching.
A gentle invasion, Noah’s index finger pushed into Paul’s asshole, in and out, making him moan as his mouth went up and down onto his cock.
“No, I don’t think I want to think about anything!
 
CHAPTER
SIX

MONEY/ TROUBLE CONTINUED



“Well,” Noah said, with a breathless girlishness, as he sat in front of Todd’s laptop. “Here we go. We’re about to be downloaded. Ey, do you think we should start our own site?”
“What? Like Guy?”
“Yeah,” Noah clicked Enter, and grinned. “There it goes. And you can charge folks. And folks’ll pay.”
“You mean, shoot you and me fucking each other over and over again.”
“No,” Noah made a noise and waved that away. “I mean we get some of the other guys, find out where the fuck Burt is for instance. Start something up here. Not in this house. I mean, Fenn and Todd probably wouldn’t like that.”
“Todd wouldn’t,” Paul agreed.
“Would you? Oh, fuck! There we are baby. Let’s watch this shit.”
“I don’t know if I want to.”
“Want to start a company? Or want to watch our hot ass video? Don’t worry, Pauly, I saw it last night. It’s pretty tight. I touched it up a bit.
“You know, we’ll need our own camera. We can’t just keep sneaking Todd’s. That’s not right. And our own equipment. If we want to get good. I’m sorry,” said Noah, “I interrupted.”
“I mean, I don’t know if I want to see a video of us. That just sounds… redundant. And I don’t really know if I want to start my own porn company.”
“Other Worlds Video, Paul. They started just like us. They were doing little shit for someone like Guy, someone who had never acted and just wanted to get fucked and have dicks in his mouth, and knew the best way to get it was to pay people. And they left and started their own shit. They do gay and straight stuff. Their stuff is fantastic.”
“Well, then maybe you should do it,” Paul told him, trying not to sound rude. “The way you talk about it, you sound like it’s… Hollywood or something. Like the Oscars. To me it’s just crappy shit people do to get off, or to pay their bills or to… or because the only way they can get laid is in front of a camera and by beautiful people. I don’t like it like you do.”
“You do like it like I do,” Noah said. He turned to the screen, frowned at it, worked it a bit, and then Paul heard his own voice.

“You know what I mean. Filmed?”

Then Noah’s: “I’ve seen Guy do it. If his dumb ass can shoot trash, then you know we can.”
“I’ll just… put it on the tripod like this… Make sure it’s seeing us.”
“How do we know it’s seeing us?”
“Look, whatever we screw up we can re-shoot. And what we don’t like we can always edit out.”

“I’ve seen you nail the fuck out of folks, Pauly. And get nailed. And love it. Man, I saw Pizza Slut, so… Com’on, for old Noah. Let’s just do a few more. I mean, Let’s do one…” Noah moved to set up the camera, “where we’re doing it to ourselves doing it.”
“You mean now?”
“Yeah.”
Paul just looked at him.
Noah touched the bridge of his nose. He brought his finger down Paul’s nose slowly, to rest on his lips. He pressed his lips to Paul’s and they stayed there. He sucked on them, pulled them, pushed his tongue through Paul’s.
Noah’s hand plunged into Paul’s jeans, into his underwear, started to stroke him.
“I’m making movies with the hottest guy in the biz,” Noah murmured while kissing Paul and pulling him down to the bed.
“Now, how hot is that?”

“Noah wants me to make porn.”
Fenn cocked his head.
They were sitting on the sofa in the living room. Everyone else was asleep upstairs.
“He… He’s been bored, Fenn. He needs something to excite him. So, he wants to make porn and put it on the Net.”
“I take it…” Fenn put down the large tea mug, “that he needs someone to make the porn with?”
“That’s where I come in.”
“Yes,” Fenn nodded. “I thought so.”
“He wants us to make porn and… get some other folks. Start up something new now that Guy won’t be doing anything for awhile.”
“And you want to know?”
“I want to know what you think?”
“Well,” Fenn shook his head, “I’m going to have to be academic and annoying about it and ask you, ‘what do you think?’”
“Fenn!”
“I mean, do you want to? If you want to do it, then it doesn’t matter what good reasons I have for it or against it. But if you really don’t want to do it, then you shouldn’t.”
“It just doesn’t feel right,” Paul stopped for a moment. He had come dangerously close to saying what he wasn’t ready to admit yet, that he and Noah had already shot and put two movies online.
“Well, then you’ve got your answer.”
“But… it’s like I said. He’s bored. He needs something That’s how he is. He thrives on… something to excite him. Something naughty.”
“That’s why he wants to do the money run.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why you and Dan Malloy are going along.”
“But what comes next?”
“Whaddo you mean?”
“I mean when the run’s over?”
“You come back and do the play. You work for the playhouse now. I thought that made you happy.”
“Look. It does, Fenn. This whole set up—except I have to get a place of my own eventually—makes me happy. But, Noah’s going to need that excitement.”
“Paul,” Fenn said, firmly. “It is not my job to keep Noah excited. And it’s not yours either.”
Fenn stood up and yawned. “We should both get to bed.”
Fenn was quiet a moment, and then he said, “Are you afraid if you don’t keep that boy excited he’ll go away?”
Paul didn’t answer. He stared at his cup, his face firm.
“You can do everything you want to entertain him; you can’t make that boy stay, and you shouldn’t have to try. Good night, Paul.”

“What I’m saying, is that it’s time to really do… whatever the fuck we want with this playhouse,” Fenn said at the meeting that morning, pouring some more of the too black, too bitter coffee Tom liked to make into his cup.
“For the sake of paying for our own upkeep, at least,” Tara said.
Others nodded and Brian, folding his hands suggested, “A workshop.”
Fenn nodded for him to continue.
“I mean, we’ve got our connection to the college. It’s no reason we couldn’t work with them to make one of the best acting programs this side of Yale. Real theatre. Not community crap.”
“We never do community crap,” Tom said with a small smile, tracing a circle on the table.
“And we can never really afford to pay people what they deserve,” said Brian. “I mean, Fenn’s right. If we’ve come into some money then we can really be something. We’re not Chicago, but we’re the biggest city around here. We could draw in folks from everywhere, probably as far as Indy.”
“That’s awfully big,” Tom shook his head, uncertainly. “I mean, I think we might be reaching too high.”
Fenn opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Brian said, “That’s how you get anything done. You reach. Start small with as much as you can chew all the time. But don’t be afraid to reach.”
“We need to do another play,” Fenn said. Tara and Brian nodded. “I mean, from now on I want us doing a lot of different plays at once. I want this place to be jumping, and we’ve got it open to that theatre troupe at the college. Well, I think we need to put out the word to anyone trying to do any acting that we’re here. For a price, obviously. I want this place to be fucking jumping. All the time.”
“What about more than plays?” Tara said. “I mean, we can’t do a play every night and I know lots of dykes who want to do slam poetry. They want to sing and try to be Ani DeFranco all over again.”
“Yes, Goddamnit yes,” Fenn cried. “Anything that keeps this place filled and people coming.
“But I want to get back to Brian’s idea.”
Brian put down his pencil and nodded.
“Can you make it happen? Something with the college?”
Brian grinned. “I can try to make something happen. Try very hard.”
“Make it happen.”
Brian smiled and nodded. “I’ll make it happen.”
“Good,” Fenn said. “And Tom, can you get on finding us another play and putting out casting calls?”
“I can do this.”
“I am excited as fuck,” Tara declared.
“For so long we were just limpin’ along, praying the lights didn’t get turned out. And now, look at us, doing shit. Planning a future. Feels damn good.”


On his way out the door, and to Saint Barbara’s, Brian turned around and said to Tom and Fenn, who had been talking and he said:
“Fenn, I just wanted to say I agree with Tara. It is exciting. You know… to be making something happen. We’re gonna do this?”
“Yes we are,” he nodded at Brian, and Brian smiled and left.
“One, Two,” Fenn murmured.
“What are you—?” Tom began.
“Three…. Four…. Five,” he turned around. “Brian’s a nice guy, Tom. You should try to not screw it up.”
“What are you…? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Now that you’re sleeping with him again, you should try not to ruin it.
“Now, don’t give me that stupid look. I know what’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“The history of us is this. I left you on a Monday, and Brian was back in bed with you Tuesday. He realized you still wanted me on Wednesday. On Thursday I said that ship had sailed, and ever since Friday you all keep coming together, breaking up, coming together, having the discretion to do it behind my back and not in my face. And, Tom, he’s as in love with you as he always was and you…. You’d better not still be in love with me. If that’s what’s keeping you from Brian… Don’t let it. He’s talented. He’s beautiful. He’s a prize. He’s there. Don’t let him go.”
 
Thank you so much for your support. You're right, there still is a lot to go. I'm glad you're enjoying the ride. See you tomorrow night.
 
CHAPTER
SIX

MONEY/ TROUBLE CONTINUED


WHAT ARE WE?”
“Whaddo you mean, what are we?”
“Well,” Tom said, as they walked through the park, “Fenn gives me this big speech. Well, not a big speech. It was a very little one about… not screwing us up this time.”
Brian laughed.
“That implies that there was an us the last time. That there was a last time.
“Look, I always knew what was going on. Maybe sometimes I was bitter, but I always knew what I’d signed up for.”
“Fenn told me,” Tom said, “That the only thing in the way of me having anything was the idea that things weren’t over with him. He said, and I quote, you’d better not still be in love with me.”
Brian dug his hands into his pockets.
“My students at the school are getting better. The one, TJ, he shows real promise.”
“What do you think about that?” Tom said.
“About what?”
“That I can’t let go. Do you think that’s true?”
“I don’t know if it’s true. I can’t believe you’re discussing this with me.”
“But I like you. I’ve always liked you. I’m attracted to you. We have so much in common.”
“You know what I think?” Brian said.
“What?”
“I think we are two stunningly hot and talented guys. I also think, unfortunately, you were in love once. Real love, and you were so stupid you screwed it up. By screwing me. And I think that you keep on looking for that real love that most people don’t ever get. That you had. And until you get it any relationship you’re in will just sort of pale in comparison. Even the one, or ones you’ve been in with me.”
“So… how do you feel about us the way we are?”
“Most people are the way we are,” Brian said. He shrugged. “Maybe we’re just conscious of it. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.
“I like Fenn. I hate that because I wasn’t able to steal your heart from him, and all I could do was break you all up I was still angry. I hate the way I’ve felt all these years. Jealous, and mean and… I’ve hated it. And now we’re building this playhouse up and doing it together, and I can finally start to live in a sort of human fashion with someone I’ve wronged… numerous times.”
Brian stopped and took Tom’s hands.
“And even if it doesn’t last, or if it’s not… What you had before, or what you’ll have in the future… I don’t mind what it is right now.”

“I don’t know,” Dena said. “We just talked. And talked, a lot.”
Layla lifted her head from the water fountain and said, “Do you ever wonder how sanitary these things are?”
“I’ve thought about that. But I always imagined if they were really dangerous, people would stop putting them up. And then, it’s not like you can actually put your mouth down on the nozzle or spit into it. Cause the water’s going right toward you, right? So it would be pushing the germs away.”
“True,” Layla considered, reshifting the book bag on her shoulder. “Still, there’s something a little sketchy about it. Now, what’s this you were saying about Milo?”
“Just that we made a connection. You know?”
“No.”
“I think you’re being deliberately obtuse.”
“I love it when you talk big.”
“I felt like we had always known each other. Like he knew just how I felt. He understood me, and I understood him—”
Dena stopped because Layla had tugged on her shoulder.
“Hey ladies,” Milo said.
“Morning, Milo,” Layla said. “We were headed down to the cafeteria for lunch.”
“I thought junior and senior lunch was at twelve-thirty.”
“True,” Layla allowed. “But when we skip breakfast and have study hall it always seems like a good idea to be a junior at eleven a.m.”
Milo chuckled. “I might take you up on that in a few days, but for now I gotta make nice with Mrs. Gillen. To make up for my past life of sin.”
“I should get a life of sin,” Layla said, reflectively.
“They’re selling ‘em at Wal Mart. Buy one, get one free.”
Layla shook her head.
“I don’t believe in cheap lives.”
“You’re funny as hell, Miss Lawson. Miss Reardon, will I be seeing you later on? Would you like a ride home, today?”
“Dena opened her mouth to say that she wouldn’t, but Layla said, “She’d love one.”
Dena opened her mouth again and Layla squeezed her wrist.”
“All right then,” Milo said, pulling a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you at 2:45.”
He was gone down the hall, and Dena waited a few seconds before she turned around and demanded:
“What the hell were you doing?”
“Language, Miss Reardon!” a voice came from behind her.
“Sister Claire.”
“Don’t send her to the principal’s office,” Layla said with a grin. “She was just overcome.”
“Yes, Miss Lawden, you have an overcoming presence,” said Sister Claire. “And don’t you worry about being sent to the principal. Until Father Dan gets back I am the principal.”
“Where’s Father Dan?” Dena said.
“I’m sure I don’t know. And I don’t know why you two ladies are loitering in the hall. Off with you.”
“Yes, sister,” Layla said in a long, unfazed voice.
“Yes, sister,” Dena said more quickly, and the two girls headed down the hall as the nun in her khakis and cardigan shook her gray head, not knowing what to make of either of them.
“What was that whole bit about…? You sounded like you were trying to fix me up with Milo.”
Layla nodded her head, rapidly. “Um hum. Yeah.”
“Why?”
“You said you made a connection with him. You said you all talked and talked and you got him and he got you.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“You have a Brendan.”
“Brendan’s a good guy.”
“I know that,” Layla said. “Brendan’s my friend. But I’ve never heard you say anything like that about him. And besides…”
“Besides what?”
Besides nothing. I was just saying.”
“Layla, what are you saying.”
“The man sits around watching gay pornos. I mean…”
“Brendan is not gay.”
“Why isn’t he?”
“Layla!”
“Your uncle is. My uncle is. Your father is, and there’ s double love triangle right there. Half the people we know are, so why isn’t Brendan? And whatever he is, there’s no reason you can’t think about someone else. Especially not someone as fine as Milo.”
Noise shouted at them as they approached the busy entryway into the cafeteria. Dena stood perfectly still.
“For now, that subject is closed,” she said. “We’ll just leave it at: I’m going home with Milo.”
Layla nodded, stoutly. “That’s fine by me,” she said.

“Okay, I’m gon lay a scenario down for you,” Layla said, throwing her bag on the table.
“How many study halls do you have this year, Layla?” Will demanded.
“Two, but it’s not like I’m trying to get into Harvard. Don’t interrupt me, William.
“Now, here’s my scenario. A woman marries a man. Or either she dates a man. This man turns out to be gay. Leaves her. Eventually. Common scenario, right?”
“I promise,” Will began, blandly, “I will not leave you for another man.”
“Shut up, fool. Who says we’re even together?”
Will looked at her.
“We’re together, already!” she cried. “Alright? Damnit, don’t look at me that way. Now back to my scenario, please?”
“Continue your scenario.”
“Is the woman really surprised? I mean, I had always thought that you would know the person you were with, so how could you be surprised when he tells you the truth? Do you think she’d really be surprised? I mean, shouldn’t she have known?”
Will puffed out his lips and put his mechanical pencil across his calculus.
“What I think,” Will said, “is people always turn their heads away, as far as possible, from what they don’t want to see.”
Layla was quiet. Then she got up, rounded the table and kissed his cheek.
“Am I a smart boy?” he said.
“You’re a smart boy.”

“Where are we, exactly?” Paul said, looking putting down the map.
“Somewhere in Virginia. Actually, a little past Lynchburg.”
“That,” Noah stated from where he was curled in the back of the van, “is one of the most unpromising names I’ve ever heard.”
“Let me know when you want me to take over,” Paul said.
Dan yawned and said, “Do we want to drive all night, or should we find some place to rest?”
“I vote for a resting place and a bed,” Noah sat up, yawning.
“You’re not even driving,” Paul told him.
“But I’m aching,” Noah said. “My back is killing me. I can’t believe yours isn’t. We weren’t made for all of this… rough living.”
Dan Malloy laughed and said, “We could crash somewhere for the night. Some Motel Six or something. Start early in the morning.” He yawned. “See, look at us. No one can stay awake.”
“How long should it take us to get to Florida?” Paul asked.
“America looks so much smaller on the map,” Noah commented.
“If we match the pace we set today,” Dan said, rolling his tongue around in his mouth as he bent toward paul and ran an old pen over the map, “I would guess we would reach the pan handle at this time tomorrow.”
“Oh, God!” Noah wailed from the back. “It feels so long already.”
“Just for that,” the priest said, “you get first shift driving.”
“Ha ha,” Paul murmured and, turning to the backseat, gave Noah a long, sick, smile.


PAUL ANDERSON took a good long shower, which surprised him, because he’d had a short long shower this morning. There was something about the road that made him feel two days icky, and he wanted to rinse out the dirt and the ache as best he could. Besides, he realized now, he was always conscious of using up Fenn’s water. He never wanted to be a nuisance.
Whatever Dan Malloy had been in his past life, right now he was nothing if not very cool. He had assumed that Paul and Noah would get a room together, and was surprised when they got them separately. They’d gone their separate ways agreeing to meet up at the continental breakfast tomorrow. While Paul was in his room, sorting himself out, there was a tap on the door and Noah came in.
“I’m going out to find some life in this hillbilly town. Wanna come?”
“I thought you said you were tired.”
“I was tired. Now, I’m not,” Noah said, simply. He repeated: “Wanna come?”
“No, I really am tired. Catch me later.”
“Allllright,” Noah said, stretching the phrase out, like if he kept it going long enough Paul might change his mind. But he didn’t.

Later there was a soft, but insistent and continuous tap on the door and Paul, stretching, got out of bed, pulled on his briefs, and went to answer.
“Noah,” he croaked.
Noah flipped on the light, and as Paul blinked, the little guy steered in someone tall as Paul, well built with a shaved head.
“Noah, what the—?”
“Meet Louis, he’s shy,” Noah said to the man. “Get it! From Interview With the Vampire, where—“
“I hate that movie,” Paul blinked, adjusting to the light. “What’s going on?”
“He is hot,” Noah said pushing cleaned domed guy in vaguely tight jeans and a fitted tee forward. “Isn’t he?”
The guy, nodded dumbly, his eyes full of appreciation for the nearly undressed Paul.
“Paulie, this here is Wade. And he’s a Marine. Serving out country, and on his way back overseas. I promised him we’d do our patriotic best.”
“What the?”
“Excuse me,” Noah said, taking Paul by the hand and guiding him into the bathroom.
“You wanna have a three way?” Paul said.
“Yes. It’s not like we haven’t before. Remember the one for that one film with Burt? Wasn’t that hot as shit? Doesn’t he look like Matt Castle? Com’on, Paul, let’s do this.”
Paul blinked at him.
“And that’s one hundred percent cornfed beef out there. I mean, you know it is.”
Noah stuck his head out the door:
“You still there, Wade?”
“Yup,” Wade said, dumbly.
“A Marine!” Noah breathed. “A fucking Marine. Now come on out and let’s fuck him!” Noah placed his hands on Paul’s penis through this underwear, and tugged on him.
“All right?”
“You got condoms at least? And lube?”
“You know I’ve got this shit covered. Come on, all right?”
“All right,” Paul said. “But let me pee first. Get on out. I’ll be there.”
Noah looked at Paul a moment, gave him a winning smile and a wink and then, with a thumbs up, said, “You’re gonna thank me for this in the morning.”

 
Sounds like Noah does not want a relationship which is a shame but I guess ill wait and see what happens. Good that the trip with the money is going well so far. I look forward to the next portion!
 
WEEKEND PORTION

CHAPTER
SIX

MONEY/ TROUBLE CONCLUSION

THE NEXT THUMP on the door came in the morning when a shaft of mean sunlight came through the curtains. There was a rapid staccato, and in a few moments Paul took in the hotness and confusion of his body against Wade’s well muscled back, his penis gently pushing into his firm ass and one of his legs, laced through Wade’s thighs. Vaguely, he wanted to fuck him again. On the other side of him Noah slept with one arm wrapped around both of their waists, his mouth open in slumber.
The tap came again.
Dan Malloy.
Noah stirred a bit, but Paul pushed himself off of the bed, searched for his jeans and did the delicate work of pulling them on over his morning erection, and then crossing the hotel room, cracked the door and slipped out.
“I overslept,” Dan said. “But I guess you all did too. I tapped on Noah’s door and didn’t get an answer.”
“He was out all night,” Paul said, turning red and grinning foolishly. “I’ll wake him up. Give ‘em a good old shaking.” He pantomimed shaking someone.
“All right.”
“We can be ready in about a half hour,” Paul said. “The continental breakfast, just like we planned.” He grinned idiotically.
“Great!”
“Alrighty then,” Paul said, slipping back in quickly and shutting the door.
He shook Noah’s thin shoulder and hissed, “Get up!”
Noah, mouth half opened, blinked and said, “What the...?”
Then he sat up.
“What time is it?”
“Father Dan just came in here.”
“What the fuck!”
“I mean, I stood at the door. He didn’t see anything. But we gotta be gone in a half hour.”
“Ey, Wade,” Noah was already speaking to the Marine, shaking his large shoulder.
“Wade, buddy! We gotta be rolling along.”
Wade got up, blinking and stretching.
“We got like a half hour,” Paul said. “I need to shower.”
“Hey,” Noah said, climbing out of bed, and standing naked before Wade. “For a lot of reasons it would be strange to have you in this room, but if you need to sleep a little and whatever, you can take my room. It’s paid for until noon.”
Wade sat up and nodded, looking around for his clothing.
“However,” Noah had dressed while talking, and was pulling his Polo shirt on, “I need to use my shower quickly. I’ll walk you back.”
In the bathroom, Paul turned on the shower water and stepped in, laying his back against the plastic wall and letting the water shoot along his side and then, gradually pushing himself into its stream. He heard Noah ushering Wade out, heard Noah say, “I’ll be ready in twenty, all right?”
Paul did not answer. Paul thought, “Noah takes a lot of energy.”
At one time, he reflected, and not a time that long ago, he must have as well.

“Tom told me there’s this new play that someone sent him from a playwright out in California with a horrible name. He’s really impressed by it though, and tomorrow he’s going to bring it over so we can read it.”
“How do you spell playwright?” Todd said, looking up from his laptop, where he was editing.
“Like wheelwright. W-R-I-G-H-T. Not like someone who writes plays.”
“That’s what I thought. I like that. So I’m a filmwright.”
“Yeah. You can be.”
“See,” Todd swung around in his chair. “That’s what I like, the whole idea of art being a skill, a hands on skill like… I guess a wheelwright, or a blacksmith. Only playwrights still exist and blacksmiths and wheelwrights are sort of a thing of the past.
Fenn shrugged. “Some people would say writers and poets and playwrights are almost a thing of the past.”
“I don’t believe it,” Todd shook his head. “Like, here, in Rossford, no one watches my films. Maybe not in a lot of places in America. And you wonder, who the heck really watches the documentaries you think are so important. But every once in a while you get that contact, you know, with someone who might even be in this town, who saw the film you made. And then you realize you’re not as much a relic of the past as you thought you were.”
Todd turned around and, still working at his computer, in front off the large picture window that overlooked Versaille Street and its little two story houses with small porches, large picture windows and second stories full of dormer windows peeking out of the side.
“I think all those people whose stuff is supposed to be behind the times,” Todd said, “are actually ahead. And I think that just because for now, a lot of people have lost interest or… eh…” Todd stopped to take care of something and Fenn, heading to the fridge said, “I’m still listening.”
Regaining his thread, Todd said, “Just because a lot of people right now have lost interest or… the ability to be interested even, in certain things, doesn’t mean they’re gone forever…. Not at all.”
The phone rang and Fenn, in the entryway to the kitchen, reached behind him and answered it.
“ ’Ello?”
“’Ey, Fenn, it’s me.”
“Paul?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Paul,” Fenn told Todd. “What’s going on, Paul. You all haven’t done anything foolish, have you?”
“Well, we’ve done a lot foolish,” Paul said, “But none of it has affected the money. I just called to say we’re in Southern Georgia.”
“They’re in Southern Georgia,” Fenn said. “God, that sounds like a long way off.”
“Did you know,” Todd, who was one for fun facts swiveled around and said, “that when John Adams traveled from Boston to Philadelphia for the first Continental Congress, it took between three weeks?”
“No,” Fenn said.”
“No, what,” said Paul.
“Oh,” Fenn repeated it.
“Get out,” Paul said. “Well, it took us two days to get to Georgia. And tomorrow we go into Florida and, well, it’s a long skinny state. From what Dan says we’ll stop outside of some old mission and meet another contact in the mission town. Not Raoul, he’s the island contact. You know, the more I talk about it, the more excited I am.”
“I picked up on that,” Fenn noted. “When you first started talking you sounded kind of down in the mouth. I didn’t want to mention it. But you did. And then you sort of perked up at the intrigue.”
“Yeah,” Paul said.
“How’s my priest?”
“Father Dan is amazing. I keep on thinking I should talk to him. Like he’d be good to know.”
“Dan is good to know. Most of the time.”
“You knew him before he was a priest, right?”
“I knew him when we were both kids.”
“Oh. So you know him know him.”
“Yeah,” Fenn laughed. “I know him know him. That’s why he’s got four—” Fenn stopped himself. “That’s why he’s got four jelly doughnuts.”
“What?” Paul said. “The phone’s petering out. It sounded like you said doughnuts.”
The phone was petering out. Fenn shouted: “Nevermind.”
He wanted to say something cryptic like, “The phones have ears,” but if the phones really did have ears, wouldn’t they pick up on that, too? When you were smuggling out four hundred thousand dollars, didn’t it just make sense to be a little paranoid?
“How’s Noah?”
“God!” Paul said.
“Oh… That’s the reason you were so… desolate.”
“We’ll talk about it when I get back, all right?”
“All right,” Fenn said. “be safe. Phone’s cracking.”
“All right,” said Paul. “We’ll call tomorrow.”
And then the he hung up.
“For a minute,” Todd said, “I thought he’d called to say something happened to the money.”
“You used to not care at all,” Fenn said, stepping back into the living room. “You used to go on about how bad it was and how we couldn’t keep it. Now you’re a regular King Midas. What would John Adams say?”
“He’d say, don’t lose my fucking money.”
“No,” Fenn shook his head. “I think that’s more of an Alexander Hamilton thing.”

“Is John Adams the guy who made the beer?” Paul said, coming back into the one room they were sharing tonight. Ostensibly Paul had suggested this because it saved money, but in reality he thought Noah would be far less able to bring trouble back to a motel room he shared with a priest.
“Yeah,” Noah said. “It’s good stuff.”
“You’re thinking of Sam Adams,” Dan said, closing his breviary, and crossing himself. “He was John Adam’s cousin. And, incidentally, I don’t know if he made beer or not. The beer’s just named after him.”
“Oh,” said Paul, having one of those moments when he thought that going off to California had put huge gaps in his education. He vowed to read more.
“John Adams was our second president,” Dan continued.
“Oh, John Quincy Adams,” Noah said.
“John Quincy Adams was the sixth president,” Dan clarified, “and he was John Adam’s son.”
“So, a whole family,” Paul noted.
Noah sang, “The Addam’s fam-il-y,” and snapped his fingers.
For some reason it bugged Paul that Noah didn’t mind being stupid.
Dan thought of bringing up Abigail Adams and talking about David McCullough, but he always had a sense that he talked too much about things most people cared far too little about, one reason he kept his sermons short and sweet. So Dan rose, stretched, and said:
“For once, it’s really a beautiful night. I think I’ll go out and enjoy it. You can see stars here, you know?” As an after thought he added, “Anyone care to join me?”
“I’m gonna take the van out and see about the life around here,” Noah said. “Of course I’ll leave the Bag with you guys.”
Somewhere they had agreed to refer to it as The Bag, never mentioning what was in it. Like a Catholic around the tabernacle there was a casual sense of sacredness with which they regarded the Bag and its unnamable contents.
Dan nodded and Paul said, “Actually, I would like to go see the stars with you, Father.”
They all set out, but not before Dan had securely hidden the Bag. Where, he wondered, would I not look if I were a thief? And then that’s where he put it.

“That,” Dan said, stretching out and pointing, “is my favorite. Andromeda. It’s a whole family of stars clumped right up there. Her mother was vain and boasted about how beautiful her daughter was, so a goddess demanded she tie her to a rock where she would be destroyed by a great monster.”
“Wasn’t that a movie?”
“Oh, yes,” said Dan. “Not a very good one. But, yes. And Perseus came, some say with the flying sandals of the god Hermes, and he had just killed Medusa, and he held up her head and it was so ghastly—”
“It turned the monster to stone.”
“Yes. And then, of course, Perseus married the beautiful princess. And see, there is Perseus. And see, upside down on her throne is her mother, who got her into all the mess.”
“Is that why the gods put her there upside down?”
Dan looked at Paul and grinned.
“Yes, I think so.”
“I wish the gods were still around today,” Paul reflected. “There’re a lot of people I’d like to see them hang upside down in the sky.
“See, I wish I’d paid more attention in school. I wish I’d gone to college. You know what I used to do, right?”
“Yes,” Paul said. “I know a little bit about it.”
“Well, sometimes what I really regret, more than what people think I’m supposed to regret, is feeling like I’m never smart enough. Like the smart people are the ones I’m working for. I always felt like I should have gone to school, should have read more. So I could know about stars and…. Gods and… Medusa.”
“Well, you already know about Medusa,” Dan said with a smile.
“But you know what I mean. I hate just being some dumb ex-stripper, ex-escort who did dirty movies. I think that’s the worst part of it, being dumb.”
“Look, Paul,” Dan sat up straight. “I haven’t known you very long, but you’re not dumb. Not at all—”
“I thought the second president of the United States was the guy who invented the beer! If I’d got up and gone to college—”
“You’d probably still think that. Look, don’t get me wrong. School is a great thing. Really, I loved it. Most of the time. And… maybe you could have made better use of the last few years of your life than how you did. It’s not mine to say. However this is mine to say. The real school is this world, and that’s how people find out about things. They want to know. They want to know things, Paul! And they don’t let the fact that they don’t know everything get them down. They make it a friend.
“Whatever you did in the past, and whatever you don’t want to do anymore doesn’t matter. It’s what you do now. And right now you are this really good person who knows that John Adams was the second president of the United States and his son John Quincy Adams was the sixth and Sam Adams was his cousin and he didn’t invent the beer, and his wife Abigail Adams wrote great letters and was a feminist and an ardent opponent of slavery.”
“Actually, I didn’t know that last part.”
“But you do now. That’s my point. And if you know something like, Abigail Adams was a feminist and an ardent opponent of slavery, if you know the last paragraph out of my mouth, and that Cassiopeia was Andromeda’s mother and Perseus saved her life by holding up the head of the Gorgon to a monster and turning the monster to stone, then right now, you know more than three fourths of the people you’ve ever met who’ve made you feel stupid.”
 
Father Dan is an interesting character, I hope he is in the story for a while yet! This whole money thing is complicated and I can't wait to read what happens as a result of it and if they manage to hold onto it.
 
Father Dan is one of my favorite characters. I don't think it's giving away to much to say he's not going anywhere for a long time. There is a lot more story to tell with him, and we're just scratching the surface.
 

THE HOUSES IN ROSSFORD


CHAPTER
SEVEN

WORK / ETHIC

“So, who is this friend of yours, Father?”
“A priest,” said Dan. “He’s the abbot in fact.”
“Hey, Abb-ott!” Noah shouted, laughing.
“You grew up on a lot of old TV, didn’t you?” Paul said.
Noah, shrugged under the weight of the bags. “We didn’t have cable.”

Even as they approached the giant wooden door it swung slowly open and there was a young man in a brown robe looking pleased and delighted.
“It’s just like magic,” Noah commented.
“I thought you knew,” said the young friar. “It is magic! Com’on in. Father’s been waiting for you. He told me to go out and check for you. We’ve just started the evening prayer.”

“Behold!

The brother at the podium read.

I shall send my messenger to clear a way before me. And suddenly the Lord whom you seek will come to his Temple; yes, the angel of the covenant, for whom you long, is on his way, says the Lord of Hosts.
Who will be able to resist the day of his coming? Who will remain standing when he appears? For he will be like a refiner's fire, like fullers' alkali.
He will take his seat as refiner and purifier; he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, so that they can make the offering to the Lord with uprightness.”


“The book of Malachi,” Dan whispered to Paul. “It’s Saint Andrew’s Day.”
Paul didn’t know what that meant, but figured this was not the time to ask.

The offering of Judah and Jerusalem will then be acceptable to Yahweh as in former days, as in the years of old.
I am coming to put you on trial and I shall be a ready witness against sorcerers, adulterers, perjurers, and against those who oppress the worker,, the widow and the orphan, and who rob the foreigner of his rights and do not respect me, saysthe Lord of Hosts. “I am sending my messenger, and he must prepare a way before me. And suddenly there will come to His temple the Lord, whom you are seeking, and the messenger of the covenant in whom you are delighting. Look! He will certainly come,” The Lord of Hosts has said.

It was plain, but beautiful. These abstract stain glasses must have been fairly new, as was the air conditioning and both mitigated the power of the sun, that painted the plain stone floors in soft rose and blue and gold triangles and bars of light.
The light went over the wide stone floor before where they and a few others sat with little booklets in hand, and across from them was an altar where the priest or the brother had just read. On either side of this great chapel were rows of seats where men in brown sat, and one stood up to sing:

Happy is the man who does not walk
in the counsel of the wicked,
nor has stood in the path of sinners,
And in the seat of ridiculers has not sat.

He was old, about seventy maybe, reminded Paul of his grandfather. He looked happy more than holy, and after he spoke the whole other side of the chapel responded:

But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
And meditates on his law day and night.

And then to one side, the brothers chanted, their voices rusting bass and tenor leaves:

And he shall be like a tree planted
by streams of water,
That gives fruit in due season
And whose leaves do not wither,
All that he does shall succeed…

Paul was not stupid. He knew these were psalms. At church, on Sunday, when he was a child, one person, sometimes if they were lucky someone who could sing, stood up and sang three verses of one. The whole parish sang a tired sort of response. It was all very boring which religion had always been to him. Now, as they went into the next Psalm, Paul looked around at the statue of Mary with candles flickering under her feet, at another saint he didn’t know, at the very old stations of the Cross: Jesus Falling, Veronica wiping his face, Jesus coming to Golgotha. Calvary was what everyone called it. He knew what Calvary was. But Golgotha, that was the true name, a very biblical name that you only heard in church. Now one of the monks or brothers or what have you came to light incense, and gradually it came to his nose, along with the psalm. How had he never been intrigued by this? Far from not believing, the truth was he had never really cared. How could he have been so deaf? Listen to the beautiful croaking of monk voices. Or how could he be so blind? Or smell-less, for that matter? Was that a word? With the burning of the incense that trailed toward them, it was.

O LORD, I call to you; come quickly to me.
Hear my voice when I call to you.
May my prayer be set before you like incense;
may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice.
Set a guard over my mouth, O LORD;
keep watch over the door of my lips.
Let not my heart be drawn to what is evil,
to take part in wicked deeds
with men who are evildoers;
let me not eat of their delicacies...

When it was over, most of the brothers, crossing themselves, murmuring, embracing or shaking hands, left the pews with the youngest helping the very oldest. Their stalls must have been spacious, for some turned sideways toward the altar and knelt to pray. The old man who had led one side, came toddling toward them a wooden cross swinging from around his neck and a glimmer in his eyes. He approached Dan, shook the hell out of the young priest’s hand, and then said to Paul and Noah, “I’m Abbot Julian. Welcome to our home.”
Paul wanted to say a bunch of things, all of which he thought would sound extremely silly, so he just kept shaking Julian’s hand with an ecstatic, stupid look on his face. Next Julian shook Noah’s hand. Noah seemed subdued for once. And finally Julian said, “So… that Bag… Is that the package Barb and Bob said would be coming down here?”
Paul blinked suddenly, and Julian laughed.
“You know…?” Noah began. “About the Bag…? And the Contact?”
Abbot Julian laughed so loud that he embarrassed himself and covered his mouth. Then, with a twinkle in his blue eyes he leaned in and whispered:
“I AM the contact.”

“So how’s old Saint Barbara’s?”
“Same as ever,” Dan said.
“And Barb and Bob. Is Barb still raising hell?”
Dan grinned, “She’s raising a little less hell.”
“Well, that’s still too much,” Julian laughed and folded his hands together.
“How did you two get involved?” Julian turned to Noah and Paul.
“Well, we’re friends of Fenn. Do you know Fenn?”
“Of course I know Fenn. And his cousins. His whole family. They’re DuFresnes.”
“They’re Houghtons,” Paul felt the need to correct him.
“They are now,” said Julian. “But Lula Houghton, well, she was Lula DuFresne when she was growing up and she grew up down south in Jamnia, Ohio. Where I used to be stationed at. I was there for years. At Saint Claire’s before I came down here.”
“Well, how do you know Bob and Barb, anyway?”
Julian said to Dan, “We went to school together. Me and Bob. And then Barb in college. She went to Our Lady of the Snows back in the day. And, oh my, my you should have seen her! I almost left the priesthood.”
“You were a priest in college?”
“I went to minor seminary,” Julian said. “See,” he said to Paul and Noah, “back in the day when Catholic families still had a hundred kids they’d give a few away. Well, not really. But sort of. They’d say, Mikey over here has a talent for being a priest—whatever that means—and send him to minor seminary. That was Catholic school that kind of turned out junior priests, like being pre-med. We were pre-priest. Before that I lived in Ohio. That’s how I met Bob. And then they sent me to Citeaux which was all boys. Bob again! And Barb down the street at Snows. Good Lord, the hell we raised!” Julian slapped his knee. “Bob was into everything he shouldn’t have been. But I couldn’t be. See, I was already sealed for God.
“We kept in touch. We always keep in touch. The older you get the more you realize how few people in this world you really like. I godfathered one of their kids. Saw them turn all respectable, or… something like it. And I guess I got respectable too. So, here we are.”
“Why are you doing this?” Noah asked suddenly. “I mean… If that doesn’t sound like… a bad question. I mean, a holy man, doing this for us?”
“Noah!” Paul moaned.
“No,” Julian’s face creased with a large smile and he waved it away. “No, see… that’s just it. Remember, I wanted to be in the thick of things back then. Fifty—almost sixty years ago when we were so… young. But I was already holy and set aside. So, when my old friends called me and said a few years ago, Julian, how would your respectable, holy, old ass like to do something like this, I was in. Oh, the three of us were in on something… else. That’s another story. But that’s how I became the contact, as you say.
“That old business was a rush to the blood. Just when other folks are taking out their dentures to sit by the fire, we’re going strong! So, anyway, I get a call from Barb, and she’s still got that naughty girl thing she had back in 1948 for God’s sake! And she says, would you like to… well, you know, anything that starts with Barb Telford Affren saying, ‘Would you like to…?’ I can’t possibly resist.”
Julian shut his mouth and sat back, folding his fingers together.
“And now we get to my cut,” Julian said, rubbing his hands together and grinning. “what’s my cut in the profits?” he said, relishing the word, ‘Cut.’
Noah said nothing.
“I live better than an old man who as a young man took a vow of poverty to God ever should. My cut’s the adventure. Remember that, because we head out at six tomorrow morning.”
 
Interesting start to the chapter. A great twist having the contact also be in the church! I look forward to reading what happens next!
 

CHAPTER
SEVEN

WORK / ETHIC CONTINUED


Julian came into the chapel to change the votive candle before the Blessed Sacrament and saw Paul Anderson sitting in the first set of pews. He removed the old candle and put down the new one, debating if he should say anything, then, at last, he went up to him and sat down.
“If I should go, then I will go,” the old priest said.
“No, no,” Paul said. “Company’s good.”
Then he said, “I was just thinking, you know, tonight… that service. It was so beautiful. And … I was thinking about how much I never paid attention to. And then also all the stupid things I‘ve spent my life paying attention to. It’s like I’ve gotten everything wrong. Hell—I mean, heck—”
Julian placed a hand on Paul’s and said, “You meant Hell.”
Paul smiled and said, “I guess I did. And I guess I’m thinking I’m pretty sure I’ve wasted my whole life.”
“Your whole life? How old are you?”
“Father, I’m twenty-seven.”
Gently, Julian cuffed him on the back of the head.
“Oh, Lord! To be twenty-seven again. To be sixty-seven again! You don’t even know you’re just a pup.”
“You don’t know some of the things I’ve done. I think I’ve screwed up the last decade of my life.”
“Only the last decade? Look, I know a little something about something. I think, I I know you’ve had some racy times, but I think sometimes when people have those racey times they think they’re worse than they are. Whatever you did, and I’m sure a young man handsome as yourself has done what they call, sins of the flesh, it doesn’t hold a candle to meanness, selfishness, coldness. To having a closed heart.”
Paul shook his head.
“But that’s just it,” he said after a moment. “See, you’re right. I don’t know how much you know but I’ve done some risky stuff. And if it was just fun and… flesh, it wouldn’t matter so much. But it changed me. I could feel myself turning into that cold person, that heartless person, the person who… couldn’t see or really feel. Who couldn’t be touched. That was it. That’s the thing.”
“No,” Julian said. “The thing is that you saw it, and you stopped it. You said you wasted a decade. I’ve seen people waste their whole lives. Waste them here in church, thinking they were God’s favorites and going to their grave mean as anything.”
“But they thought they went to heaven?”
“Maybe they did. Who am I to say? Maybe they went to their type of heaven where even God wouldn’t be good enough to get into, and maybe that’s what hell is.”
Paul said: “I never thought much about heaven. Really, the only attraction it held was that it wasn’t hell. I still… don’t know what to think about it, or,” Paul shrugged and looked around, “God or… anything. Tonight I felt so good and so right, but… What is it, Father? You know, the big picture? Heaven?”
Julian said nothing immediately. His tongue stuck out and was caught firmly between his lips while he thought. It took a while for him to speak.
“I know this is going to sound trite.
“You know, like some of that New Age business. But I think heaven is you. Being all… cold… and frozen. And then being cracked open and letting yourself be touched. I think what’s touching you is God. And if you don’t bother with defining it too much, or trying to measure up... If you just accept it, you’ll be all right. You’ll be more than all right.”


That day, Fenn Houghton was so happy he let Brian drive him home.
“You were as good as you word. I can’t believe we’ve got this thing up and running.”
“Well, we don’t have it up and running yet,” Brian said. “I mean, I’ve just got a lot of handshakes, but at Loretto that’s usually more than enough. And—ohhhhh, almost missed the turn—there is, of course, the grant money.”
“I wasn’t going to bring that up.”
Brian gave that rich, slightly toothy laugh that, at one point in time, Fenn hated, and said, “That’s the classy thing about you, Fenn.”
“Ah, here we are,” Fenn said.
Brian pulled into the driveway.
“This is a beautiful house, Fenn.”
Not that Fenn ever took his home for granted, but he paid close attention to it now, the little round overhang above the stoop, the large picture window, divided in three, the second floor with the other large window that was their bedroom peering from under the sloping roof and the immaculate white paint that was a testament to Todd, someone who liked to keep things clean and in perfect order, who needed the grass cut perfectly.
“Yeah, it is,” Fenn agreed. “Thank you. Would you like to come in, Brian?”
“I can’t, but thanks. It looks like you have company, anyway.”
Fenn had noticed that, of course, but chosen to ignore it for courtesy’s sake. Dan Malloy’s grey van was sitting in the carport, and Fenn imagined that he must have let himself in. What news was waiting in the house?”
“Thank you, Brian. For everything.” Fenn said, hopping out the car. “Have a good night now.”
“You too, Fenn.”
Brian, having manners, waited until Fenn was inside the house before driving off. And Dan Malloy sitting at the table beside Paul, both of them smiling merrily, said, “Brian Babcock? Bringing you home? Let that be a warning to all the heathen who don’t believe in miracles.”
“Time heals all wounds. Or most of them,” Fenn amended. “And that helps make miracles possible.”
“And now,” Paul said, standing up and handing Fenn, first two, large folders, and then two slim checkbooks, “here is another miracle. Or something like it.”
“Really?” a fierce smile spread across Fenn’s face.
“Notice,” Paul began, “that in the account of one Fenn Houghton there is, look at that. Oh, by the way, you didn’t count right—five-hundred, two-thousand dollars.”
“Oh, shit,” Fenn murmured.
“We had all your personal stuff we needed,” Dan said. “And apparently there used to doing business through… well, third parties.”
“We thought of a joint account for you and Todd,” Paul added. “But, then we only had all of your stuff, and besides, Todd didn’t get on the stick till late in the game.”
“Don’t say that to him.”
“But it is true. I mean, this really was your thing, and we thought you’d do right by him so it should be yours.”
“And now for yours,” Fenn sat right down at the table and reached into one of the double breast pockets of the shirt he was wearing. “How is…. What did I give you that night when we found it?”
“You actually gave me thirty thousand dollars,” Paul said, cautiously, wondering if that would sound like too much.
“I know,” Fenn said. “Damn, that was stingy, wasn’t it? How about… seventy?”
Paul bawked.
“I mean, to start with.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” Paul said. “I was just…”
“And for Noah, I think twenty-thousand is more than enough. Don’t tell him what I gave you, though.”
Paul nodded.
“Privately, I think he’ll blow it or else I’d give him more. But he deserves a chance to blow it. Right?”
“You’ll notice that half of it is in a high yield saving’s account,” Paul noted. “That was a little high handed of me, because that means you can’t touch it all right away. But I think in the long run it’ll be good.”
“And what about for you, Sir Priest?”
Dan waved that away, “You know I can’t.”
Fenn shrugged. “I know you won’t. So, who was the contact?”
“You wouldn’t believe this, but—”
“Tell me it wasn’t Julian Phelps?”
“How did you know? Paul spluttered.
Fenn shrugged and said, shaking his head, “Well… it is Julian.”



“He’s gonna go on a trip with that money,” Paul said later that afternoon, when Dan had left and they were sitting on the couch.
“Well,” Fenn shrugged. “That seems like it’s up Noah’s alley. He needs to be doing something.”
“He’s just so… wild,” Paul said. “I don’t know that I was ever wild. I think I just did what I had to do. I think Noah misses the biz. He may go back. He was talking about doing Brazilian porn.”
“I don’t know a damn thing about Brazilian porn,” Fenn said. “Or most porn for that matter.”
“But there’s so much to do right here. There’s so much excitement right here. Like, I gotta see my mom. You wanna come with me?”
“When?”
“I’d like to go Sunday.”
“After Mass. Sure thing. I’ll get past my dread of East Carmel.”
“They will love you in East Carmel. The chance to touch a real live Black person? They won’t pass it up!”
Fenn coughed and said, “As long as they don’t touch me with a noose, it’s all right.”
“Hey now, none of that!
“But seriously, there is just so much to do. So many books to read. So many plays to star in. Maybe? Maybe I’ll go back to school. Or maybe I’ll just go, and you know, sit in churches. I’m not talking about being religious. But I might do that one day too. I mean, just sitting in side of a church and being quiet. It’s so… I did that, Fenn. I can’t possibly be bored here. You know, in the last few days I learned who Andromeda, Perseus and Medusa are, and I learned about Saint Francis and Saint Claire and what a breviary is and how to spell it, and why Julian wears a brown robe. I’m like, I’m like this sponge. It’s phenomenal. Hell, listen to me, I just used the word phenomenal.”
“All that,” Fenn said, sitting back on the sofa, “when you too, my friend, could be staring in Brazilian porn.”
Paul shook his head.
“I think I got a nice little tan down south, but pretty soon I think I’ll be too pasty for it. They like their boys brown.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I think it’s pretty clear that I’m out of that business. As far as I know. I can’t really imagine going back. I love sex. I’m not sure I love being photographed while having it, though.”
“Can I ask you a question.”
Paul waved around the check and said, “You just gave me seventy-thousand dollars, you can do whatever the hell you want.”
Fenn grinned. “Are you going to be okay with Noah gone?”
“Noah was just the one who understood. I mean, he’d been in the business with me. How many other people are going to get it?”
“I get it.”
“You know what I mean. Besides talking to you, how many people am I going to meet that are cool with me being what I was? Or, if they do get excited thinking about it, who aren’t going to have these… dumb expectations. It’s hard. I feel like I’m starting all over again.”
Fenn nodded.
“And then, on a very practical level, there is the sex. I am not used to having relationships, or even casual sex the way other people do. I’m used to screwing pornstars and doing it on camera and taking home a check. Noah was…”
“A nice transition.”
Paul grinned and snapped his fingers, then nodded.
“Yeah… And now I’m going to have to find another transition.”
 
CHAPTER
SEVEN

WORK / ETHIC CONTINUED


“That was great. Just great.”
Lee Phillips sprawled out in his bed with a general feeling of sweaty contentment as the other man got up and asked if he could use the bathroom.
“Go right on ahead,” Lee murmured, and with lingering appreciation, watched his guest’s ass leave the room.
He reflected, sitting up and drawing his knees toward him, that the problem with homosexuality was that it was sexuality and the problem with sexuality was that it was fun. There was nothing honorable or redeeming in men banging men; not like there was in heterosexuality. It didn’t make families or uphold society. It didn’t create children or do that thing women were supposed to do, “settle a man down” like they used to say on Dallas. Nowadays there were some conservative homos out there touting the wonders of gay marriage. They’d be proper and acceptable, settled down. Just like straight people. Lee didn’t really have much good to say about straight people. Or anyone else for that matter.
“Okay,” the man came back in awkward, bending over, reaching for his underwear. He had been attractive before, as opposed to his current state of clumsy confusion. Lee ignored him and reached for his cigarette case on the nightstand.
“I have to go now.”
“Well, yes, you do,” Lee had found a sophisticated way of getting up and pulling his pants on quickly without really being seen. He reached down and slipped on the old silk shirt. He lit the cigarette.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
Why did they always act as if you wanted them to stay? And why always so shame faced about the few minutes of exuberant happiness you’d just had? Lee, like his cousin Fenn, like his whole family, had been raised in the Church, and had thought well now when does right become wrong? If another man smiles at you is it wrong? If you hug your friend is it wrong? Well, now if you kiss your friend is that so much more wrong? Why is it wrong? And if you take your clothes off with someone else, well then is that wrong? How wrong is it? And if sex is wrong, and sex with someone you’re not married to, well then when exactly is what you’re doing sex?”
Lee decided that these were too many questions and no one had the answers and a God who had the free time to check into his bedroom when tsunamis and genocides were taking place elsewhere was a God who either wasn’t real or simply wasn’t very interesting.
“Sex should be like a handshake,” Lee told the man as he lead him out the door. “Or like a good massage. Only… you have to pay for massages, and if everything goes right, you should never pay to get laid.”
“All right, good bye now,” the man said.
With courtesty, Lee said goodbye and closed the door.
He felt a general sense of satisfaction that came, he thought, from having been a virgin for so long. He never so much as made out with anything male or female until he was damn near thirty, until he was certain how he felt about sex, and until he was sure that most of the power attributed to it was mythological. Could it solidify a relationship? No, none of his serious relationships contained it. Could it make you a man? No, he’d been a man a long time before it happened. Did it make you more popular? Not necessarily. More immoral, more evil? No. Evil made you evil. Well, did it make you happier? Definitely. When Virginity with a capital V had become oppressive Lee decided to remedy the situation. There was no point in complicating things by saying the love of his life had to fulfill this purpose. It put too much on whomever he was looking at, and, in almost thirty years the love of his life had never come anyway.
He just did it. And he continued to do it. In fact, Lee often wondered about any man who was under three hundred pounds and fifty-five years, “What would that be like?” not that he planned to do it, and not that the answer to the question was always a pleasant one. Sometimes he thought it would be absolutely gross. But there was always the curiosity factor. Homely people made him especially curious. For some reason, perhaps the gratitude, making love to a homely man was always a strange pleasure.
The phone rang, and interrupted his cigarette and Lee’s philosophizing about the nature of his sex life.
“Ello?”
“Cousin?”
“Cousin!”
“What are you up to?”
“Don’t ask, Fenn.”
“Okay, I won’t. I’m sure it’s better that way.”
“Don’t get sanctimonious with me, you nasty bastard. What’s going on?”
“Are you still in Texas?”
“Yes?”
“At the same address?”
“Um hum.”
“Well, where are you going to be in a week?”
“Still here, I’m sure.”
There was a space of silence, and then Fenn said, “I’m going to Western Union you something.”
“Really!” Lean sat up.
“Yes, I can’t imagine mailing it.”
“When you say it like that—! I mean, you gotta tell me.”
“Just wait and see.”
“Damnit, Fenn. I can’t wait.”
“But, you’re gonna have to. Okay, I have to go now.”
“Fenn—!”
“Bye, cousin.”
Fenn hung up. Lee sat down and frowned. And then, smoking the last of the cigarette, he smiled and said, “Well, it is Western Union, so it can’t be bad.”

“So it’s well…” Todd walked around the living room, looking at the sheet of paper, “Five hundred thousand dollars…” He shook his head.
“Wow.”
“It’s not five hundred thousand anymore. Some of it I used for Paul and Noah, of course.”
“Of course,” Todd said.
“And then everyone that knows about it… you know, Lee and Tara—”
“Tara’s getting some?”
“She has to. I told her.”
“What about Adele?”
“I didn’t tell her,” Fenn said. It was as simple as that. “We can’t run around giving everything away. This will pay for the house and the theatre and get us a little more on our feet.”
Then Fenn, folding his legs on the sofa, said, “You may have noticed that’s it’s in my name.”
“Yes,” Todd said. “I did notice that.”
Fenn thought of saying, “You didn’t give Dan your information.” But this sounded a little accusatory, so he rephrased it:
“They only had my information. I mean, all the stuff they needed to open an account.”
“That’s because you didn’t give them mine.”
Fenn looked up at Todd.
“You, who didn’t even want the money, who wanted me to give it back to the police, are going to blame me because you didn’t give Dan your information?”
“I thought you’d ask me.”
“You did?”
“Yes, I mean…” Todd put down the paper.
“In your world, Fenn, everything is yours. This house is yours. Your money is yours.”
“And yours is yours, and we both have access to each other’s.”
“Well, hell you don’t really need mine, do you, Fenn?”
Noah was coming down the steps, when he said, “I’m obviously interrupting something,” turned around, and headed back up.
“So what you’re saying is you wanted this to be a joint checking account?”
“You decide who gets how much. You give this to whoever, this much to whoever else.”
“Well, hell you can too. You’ve got access.”
“To an account in your name.”
“Well, yes, Todd, it’s my goddamn money. If you had found it and said, hey baby, I’m gonna take all this shit, and I had said, no, no, give it to the police, and you had said, Fuck you, Fenn, I’m keeping my goddamn money, and here’s what I’m gonna do with it, then you know what? You would be perfectly in your rights to… not give me shit. I’m giving you all the access.”
“That’s right, you’re giving it to me.”
A light snapped on in Fenn’s eyes, and he said, “You’re right, Todd. You’re exactly right.”
“This is not about a joint bank account,” Todd said. “This is about… sharing. The house is yours, the money’s yours. The playhouse is yours.”
“Actually, the playhouse is Tom’s.”
“That’s not my point.”
“And the Land Rover is yours.”
“Would you… would you just listen.”
Fenn took a breath. “I’m listening.”
“When we got together I said I wanted us to be partners. I wanted to call you my husband. You said that was stupid. Husbands have wives, we’re not married. I wanted a ceremony to symbolize that we were together. You said that wasn’t necessary.”
“But I gave in, and I gave in and I always give in. Don’t I? We went to that damn Episcopal church and had that stupid ceremony.”
“It wasn’t stupid. Not to me. That’s my point.”
“What’s your point?”
“I do everything to push us together, and you do everything to… do just the opposite.”
“Oh, that is bullshit.”
“Separate property, separate bank accounts, yours and mine, his and his, two different people.”
“We are two different people!”
Todd threw down the paper.
“Okay, you know what, here’s your money and your fucking house. I’m going out.”
“Where the hell are you going?” he shouted after Todd who was heading toward the back door in the kitchen.
“To do something in my Land Rover!”
 
Lee seems like an interesting character. I hope Todd and Fenn don't keep fighting for too long. I knew this money would be trouble! I look forward to reading what happens next.
 
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