RING AROUND THE ROSES
[The story -- really a script -- that follows this warning is completely fictional. The characters and situation are entirely imaginary, as are the discussions of consensual sex between adult males. Nonetheless, if you are too young to read about imagined sex acts or find homosexual romance offensive, please read no further. In any case, please respect the author's copyright. Thank you. Park517@aol.com]
Act I, Scene I (The bedroom of an apartment on New York's Upper East Side. Morning, October 7, 1982.)
"Wake up, kiddo. Morning time. Sun's up. Daddy's got to go."
"But I don't. Well, maybe I do, but I can hold it a while. Or you could hold it a while. I like it when you do that."
"And I like doing it. You know that. I like kissing it, too. Like that."
"You call that a kiss? Last night you were like a vampire. Now you're a moth."
"Well, last night you were like a god, and now you're just a gorgeous, naked boy who has to get out of my bed. Esmerelda, the cleaning lady from hell, comes this morning. If she catches you, she'll pour Glisten or Lemon Shine or something all over you."
"You and I have never done that."
"There are lots of things we've never done. It hasn't even been two months, after all. I still want to try that vibrator."
"No plastic. I told you I'm allergic. Besides, you vibrate fine without any batteries."
"Was I really all right last night?"
"I'm not a faker, Hal. When I scream like that, it's for real. You were... you were lubricious."
"And I told you, I'm allergic to big words. I'm just a simple architect, not a writer like you."
"Writer-to-be. Lubricious is what your tongue did to me down there because you forgot the K-Y."
"And because you're too good for Vaseline. Everything about you is so fine, Jimmy, so sharp and fresh. Even the way you smell in the morning. Even here."
"Hey, hey! Don't mess with those unless you're going to take off that silly suit and get back in the sack. If you get me started, I'll go around horny all day. Hal, don't! I mean it. Oh God, lover, you don't have to..."
"Instead of breakfast. Even moths get the munchies."
"Hal! Oh, shit, man, that is so good. Yeah, right there. Just like that. Oh, God, your finger! I'm going to set a fucking speed record. Hal! Hold me. Tight. Yes. Oh, oh, yes, daddy, I love you. I love you, man. What you do to me. Hal! Watch out, watch out! I can't ... I'm... Oh, there! There! Yeah, yeah!"
"Jimsy? Jimbo? Don't pass out on me. You can't go back to sleep. Do I have to tickle you?"
"I'm up! I'm up! No tickling, for Christ's sake. See, I have a foot on the floor."
"Now the other foot. That's a good boy. God, you are a beautiful thing! Bucky Fuller would love your butt. It's so goddamn geodesic."
"I though you were allergic to big words. Will you at least give me a kiss before you desert me?"
"Don't say that! Don't even think it! I'm never going to desert you. I don't think I could live without you."
"I'm sorry, Hal. It was just an expression. A stupid one. It's just ..."
"Just what?"
"Just that some morning I'd like to wake up in our bed and know that I don't have to get up, that I don't have to go back to my place, that I can stay with you all day, all night and all the next day and the next."
"Baby, you know that's what I want, too. But not yet. Soon, I hope, but not yet. Let me kiss you. I've really got to run. And don't forget tonight."
"Right. I'll buy the lube."
"No, I mean the opera. Remember? Judy's Met subscription? We've got to go so I can tell her all about it. It's her project to civilize me."
"I like your caveman side."
"Knuckles dragging on the ground?"
"I thought you called him 'Rastus. But Knuckles is nice. I could go for a little Knuckles right now."
"It is 'Rastus, and it doesn't drag on the ground, and I really haven't got time for any more grab-assing, much as I'd like to. I love you, baby. I love you so much. Meet me at the Green Man at seven, and we'll get a sandwich. It's a long opera."
"Like 'Rastus. Has it got a name?"
"It's about roses and horses, I think. Cavalry or something. Strauss wrote it."
"Waltzing horses. Should be a blast. Hal, I love you too. I'll show you how much tonight. We'll break in the vibrator."
"'Bye, darling. Can I call you in the afternoon?"
"Better not. My roommate'll be around."
"Okay. See you at seven. Dress up. It's the opera."
"Yes, sir. I'll even wear underwear. Just so you can take it off afterwards. With your teeth."
"Tight underwear?"
"Bet your ass. Nut huggers. You like the idea?"
"I'm not going to be able to think of anything else all day. Bastard! I have clients to impress and you've got me fixated on your briefs. What color?"
"A surprise. A boy has to have some secrets. I tell you what. If you can guess before you see them, I'll let you tickle me."
"Promise?'
"Promise. Good-bye, my love. Keep 'Rastus out of trouble."
"Good-bye, my sweet. Good-bye."
Act I, Scene II (That night, the same bedroom)
"Yes, Hal, yes. The music was incredible. And the sets and the costumes and the singing. I'll never forget it. The Princess or the Marschallin..."
"Kiri Te Kanawa."
"Yes, her. She was beyond belief gorgeous. If I weren't hopelessly queer, I could imagine making it with her."
"Then why are you so blue, baby? You've been depressed since the curtain came down. You hardly opened your mouth at the Oak Room."
"Didn't that story get to you, too, Hal? That dazzling woman giving up her lover and seeing only old age and good works in her future. They played some of it for laughs, I know, but it was so sad, so goddamn sad."
"But it was just a story, my love, my only. Just a story with music. And no horses. And a different Strauss. I'm sorry I was so ignorant. Sad is having Ingrid Bergman die, or Grace Kelly. That's real. This was just make-believe."
"I can see that Judy has her work cut out for her."
"What's that supposed to mean? It sounds like a pretty shitty thing to say."
"You're the one who said it. That she has a project to civilize you. And the opera was part of it, wasn't it?"
"She's a New Yorker. She grew up at the Met. It's part of her life she wants me to share."
"Like I share you with her."
"Oh, Jimmy, lover, don't start. Please. I'm sorry about the weekend, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I'm a coward. I didn't... I don't want us to fight."
"But I want to fight for you. And the Princess, she didn't really fight, did she? She just looked at the inevitable and gave in to it. Act I, Octavian is in her bed. At the finale, he's headed for somebody else's. And in between, she just sings those incredible laments and acts noble. Well, I wouldn't go that way. I won't go that way."
"You won't go at all, sweetheart. It's just a long weekend. Columbus fucking Day. I've got to go out there and help her close up the house and pack up the pots she's been throwing all summer and all that shit. It's not as if I'm going to be having any fun."
"You'll have time for the occasional fuck, won't you?"
"Jimmy, she's my wife, for Christ's sake. The mother of my son. We've been married 14 years. I only met you jogging around the reservoir seven weeks ago."
"Six weeks and five days. God, it was hot. I was afraid you were going to die on me."
"I was just dehydrated. And by the time you'd walked me home, I was in love. I still am."
"So am I. That's why the opera got to me. I'm terrified of losing you."
"But you're the young one. I'm the one who should be scared."
"Of what? Of whom? I don't have a wife. I just have you."
"But you could have anyone you wanted. Those eyes of yours. And your jawline. And your ass. Let's not forget your ass. That kid, Serge or Sergio, whatever his name was..."
"Searle. His name was Searle."
"Okay, Searle. He couldn't take his eyes off you. What did the two of you do, by the way, when you went to the men's room?"
"Show and tell. I showed him the cock ring you gave me. What do you think? And he told me his life story, how that dirty old man had bought him at a slave auction. We pissed, Hal. That's all we did. He used a urinal. I used a stall, because my underwear doesn't have a fly."
"He's not a dirty old man. He's a distinguished professor of civil engineering, and I hadn't seen him for 20 years. No, more than 20 years. I didn't even know he was in New York. He was my teacher once. I owe him a lot."
"I sort of picked up on that. I got the feeling that he did more than lecture to you. Or should I say, lecher?"
"Please, Jimmy, don't. Just don't."
"Then tell me, Hal. I tell you everything. Tell me why you went pale as a ghost when he came up to you at the first intermission and why you fawned over him like that and insisted that we all go for drinks after the opera. I wanted to come straight home and make love to you, and instead I've got enough Irish coffee sloshing around in me to float Judy's father's yacht."
"We will make love, baby. We will. Robin's egg blue, to match your eyes."
"Huh?"
"The color of your briefs. You said I should guess. Am I right?"
"Sorry. No. They're pale yellow. The bikini that you bought me. I thought you'd remember. And don't try to change the subject. The professor. You and the professor, Hal. What gives?"
"Nothing. It was a long time ago. He was a wonderful teacher. I was glad to see him."
"Not as glad as he was to see you. Talk about not taking your eyes off someone. Check your crotch. I bet one of his eyeballs is still there. Was he on first-name terms with 'Rastus, by any chance?"
"It was a long time ago."
"Hal, please. No secrets. I know what you smell like. I know what you yell when you're about to come. I know about your fallen arches and the hair you're afraid is growing on your back. Why won't you tell me about your past?"
"I don't know. Maybe because I'm afraid of remembering. I'm not that person anymore, and I don't much want to bring him back."
"Why not? He was you. What are you ashamed of?"
"Being poor, for starters. Really poor. The scholarship kid at a school full of rich guys with terrific teeth and clothes and cars. I served their food and they never looked at me. I cleaned up after them in the locker room, and it was as if I was invisible."
"Were invisible. Condition contrary to fact requires the subjunctive. You didn't get a high-class education either."
"Actually, I did. A technical education -- which is what I wanted. And Henry -- Professor Millard -- was my favorite teacher."
"And you were his pet?"
"It didn't start that way, but yes, sort of. I did well in his class. He asked me to do some research with him for a book. The money helped a lot. The summer after my junior year he took me to Europe as his assistant. He helped me get into architecture school at Yale. He was really good to me, but I kind of brushed him off, and I feel guilty about it, seeing him now. That's all. He was generous. I was selfish. I don't know how to make it up to him."
"Was he a good lover?"
"Quit it, Jim. Just leave it alone, can't you? I don't pry into your past."
"There's not much of it, and you don't have to pry because I've told you all there is. You're the one it takes a crowbar to open up."
"Does it matter so much if he and I ... if we ... if he made love to me?"
"Didn't it matter then?"
"Of course it did. He was the first, the first guy, and I was flattered and scared and then totally turned on. He was so sophisticated and good-looking in an intellectual kind of way. You know what I mean. Not a jock, but not delicate either or flabby. He didn't wear a beard then, and in France and England he took me to these great places, and he knew who built them and who lived in them, and he gave great head, if you have to know."
"And you never loved him?"
"Not the way I love you, no. I was fascinated by him. I loved the sex. I'd only dry-humped a couple of girls before then. It was all new and terrific, and I told you, I owe him a lot."
"But you walked out on him."
"Shit, Jimmy, that's not fair. I graduated. I moved to New Haven. He must have found someone else. I was just one in a long line. Like that blond airhead he had with him tonight."
"But he was the head of the line for you. Doesn't that mean something? Don't you still have feelings for him?"
"Sure I do. He taught me. He taught me a lot. He got me started. But I don't feel love for him. Not any more. Maybe not even then. You're the one I love. Are you going to let me see that underwear and get you out of it? Please, baby. I need you so much."
"I don't know, Hal. The whole evening has been kind of a downer, and if we fuck, I'll just be going through the motions. You have to pack and get up early. I can't even sleep here tonight, you said. So why don't I just go now? I'll wear the blue bikini next time, and I'll let you tickle me. All right?"
"No. It's not all right. It's not just the sex, though God knows, I live for the time we get naked together, for the touch of your hands, for the feel of your incredible, warm, strong body. No, I just don't want us both to spend the next four days apart and sulking. It's bad enough that we'll be apart. Jimmy, I love you. I love you. And I want to make love to you to know that you love me. At least let me kiss you, baby. Just a kiss.
"Hal, I love you, too. I do. But I want a life with you, not just a fuck or a suck on the run. And that's about all I see ahead of us. I don't even know how or where we're going to get it on once you bring Judy home. I should take a careful look around our love nest, I guess. It may be a long time before I see it again."
"If I lie down and spread my legs, will that make it easier for you to kick me in the nuts? We'll work something out, Jimmy. I swear it. I... I can't live without you, baby. You're the only real thing in my life. Please, lover, my beloved, please..."
"Hal! Hal, don't cry, for God's sake. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just let the opera get to me and then your professor and, yeah, the long weekend without you that I hadn't seen coming. I'll get over it. But not tonight. I really ought to go. Will you call me as soon as you get back? I need to know that you're safe. I need you, Hal. I really need you in every possible way."
"And I need you even more. Of course, I'll call. Here, take this for cabfare, please. I don't want to have to worry about you on the subway at this hour."
"I've got money. I think I do. I'll be all right. Shit, now you've got me crying. Come here. Let's do the kiss thing. We'll make it last till Monday night."
Act II, Scene I (The next day. The living room of a modest apartment in the West '40s.)
"Yeah. Hello. Yeah, this is Jim. Who's calling?
"Oh. Searle. Of course, I remember. So, how are you? I'm still a little shaky. That opera really got to me.
"Well, it was the first for me, too. Where I come from, the soaps are the dominant opera form, I guess.
"Northeastern Nebraska. A little town, but it's close to Sioux Falls, and they have a Wal-Mart there. You?
"New Jersey? I went through the Newark airport once, but I haven't been back.
"Would I like to? Well, someday I guess. It's not all that high on my fantasy destination list, to be honest with you. What makes you ask?
"This weekend? Is it your beach house?
"But is it okay with her if you just show up with a friend?
"That's weird. My mom was in one of those travel groups, too. They just get on buses and run away for days at a time. It's how I learned to cook.
"My hash browns are famous, and I'm getting pretty good with the microwave.
"Yeah, you're right. I was pissed off. I didn't realize I'd been so obvious, but I thought we were going to have some quality time, and out of the blue, he's off to the fucking Hamptons. Southhampton, Easthampton. Shit, I don't even know where. Gatsby land, I guess.
"You like Fitzgerald, too? That's cool. It really is. You know, he said once that 'all good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath.' And that's the perfect description. Sometimes, I think my lungs are going to burst, and sometimes I just glide like a porpoise. But not often.
"Right now? A short story. So far, very short. And I probably ought to spend the weekend trying to make it longer. Also they might announce the Nobel Prize for Unpublished Literature, and I should stay near the phone, just in case.
"I'm sorry, man. I'm always flip. I didn't mean to brush you off, and I'm flattered that you'd want to spend time with me, but maybe we should take it slower at first. There's Hal, after all, and you've got the professor, don't you?"
"You mean, you're really just one of his students? So tell me, has he asked you to help him with some research, yet?
"Well, if he does, it could mean he wants to do some in-depth research on you. A word to the wise.
"Searle, man, how can you know that so quickly? It's not as if we got to talk all that much last night.
"No, you're the one with the looks.
"Okay. I'm not going to pass up a compliment. But check yourself out in a mirror some day, Searle. You could be a model.
"No. No one's ever asked me to pose. I don't know that many photographers. I don't know any photographers, come to think of it.
"Okay. Now I know one. Are you waiting for the prize for Unpublished Photographs, too?
"Esquire? You're not shitting me, are you?
"Of a dog? Kinky, Searle, really kinky. You surprise me. I like surprises.
"Well, everything's a long story. Except mine. Look, Searle, if you'd really like me to come with you, I think I'd like to come. But no promises, okay? Let's just see how we get along. Speaking of which, how do we get there? I don't have wheels. Do you?
"Atlantic City? I thought you said it was a place on the beach.
"Oh. No, I've never heard of Margate, but if you say it's nice, then sure. All I know about Atlantic City is the movie. It didn't look like much of a beach resort, that's all.
"You're making that up. A house shaped like an elephant? That I've got to see. And it's in Margate, and Margate is just outside Atlantic City, and there's no Wal-Mart. Okay, when do we leave?
"Yeah. That makes sense. The ten o'clock bus from the Port Authority tomorrow morning. All the lemmings will have already left town. Searle, this is really nice of you, man. I appreciate it. It was going to be a grim weekend, and you and the elephant have just changed all that.
"I said, no promises. That means no dirty pictures of yours truly.
"Well, if I can keep my clothes on, that's different. Look, Searle, would it be okay if I brought my Kaypro?
"No. I can bring that, too. In fact, I just bought some this morning. Be prepared. My motto. But a Kaypro is a computer. I write on it, or into it, I guess. And it doesn't weigh much more than your average sewing machine.
"I try to write every day. That's why.
"Sure. If it's sunny. I like the beach. I like to swim.
"Surf? No. We don't get a lot of wave action in Nebraska.
"Am I? Well, I try. Being funny is one way to get through long weekends, not to mention life and love affairs.
"Yes, even in bed. Is that a turn-off for you?
"But sex is funny. Love isn't. I agree with you on that. Love is like that opera. Anguish and euphoria. Have you got a tape deck?
"Great. Then I know what to get as a house present. I'll see you tomorrow morning.
"Yeah, Searle. Me, too. I'm glad you called. Really glad, man."
Act II, Scene 2 (Two days later, the same living room.)
"No. Jimmy's not here.
"I don't think so. He went out of town for the weekend.
"Tomorrow night, probably. Or maybe Tuesday morning. He said it would depend on weather and traffic and suchlike.
"New Jersey.
"A friend's house. Cyril, I think. Something like that.
"No. He didn't know the number. But maybe he'll call me. Do you want me to give him a message?
"Al? Just tell him Al called.
"Sorry. Hal. Like Harold. I have some hearing problems.
"Roommate? No, I'm Jimmy's father. It's just the two of us since my wife died. I couldn't farm the place alone, see. So I moved here. It's been hard and kind of lonely, don't you know....
"Yes. I'll be sure to tell him. Nice talking to you, too."
Act III (Mid-morning, Sunday, May 8, 1983. The sitting room of a classy hotel.)
"Come on in. The door's open."
"Jimmy?"
"Be right there. I'm just getting out of the shower. Make yourself comfortable."
"Sure. Oh, Jesus, Jimmy. Christ! Put some clothes on, man!"
"Hey, Hal. It's nice to see you. Don't have a cow. I have to get dry. Then I'll get dressed. It's not as if you've never seen me this way. You used to like it."
"I still do. That's the trouble. Before you were just gorgeous. Now you're dazzling, Jimmy. I couldn't believe it when I saw you at the paddock yesterday before the Derby. You looked ... I don't know how to say this ... oh, baby, you looked like a young god, and all I could think of was that you used to be mine. I was such a fool, such an asshole fool."
"Don't say that, Hal. Don't blame yourself. Things happen. We had a great time for a while. You were wonderful to me. I'll always be grateful."
"I thought I'd never see you again. Last October you just cut me off. You didn't seem grateful then. More like hateful, Jimmy. I thought I'd die."
"But you didn't. And you're still with Judy, aren't you? Wasn't that beautiful woman in the big hat your wife?"
"You thought she was beautiful?"
"She is, Hal. A knockout. And rich, and the mother of your son, as you once pointed out to me. How is he?"
"Fine, I think. His grades aren't great, but he's a star at lacrosse. He's fine. Judy's fine. I'm the one who's miserable. Jimmy, is it okay if I take off this jacket? It seems kind of hot in here."
"Sure. Just toss it on the bed. Hal, you're not miserable because of me? Not after all this time."
"Yes, Jimmy, because of you. Because I walked away from you when I should have wrapped myself so tightly around you that nothing could have separated us. Because I gave up love so that I could keep respectability."
"But you have love, Hal. From your wife and, I'm sure, from your son. You're a good man. You were good to me, and I was in love with you, but we both know we couldn't have gone much further together. The opera made me see that."
"The opera? What opera?"
"Rosenkavalier. The one you took me to our last night. Where I met Searle. Not that I paid any attention to him then. I didn't pay attention to anyone those days except you."
"I must have missed something. I thought you were angry at me for sneaking away for that long weekend."
"I was, but it was more than that. In the opera, don't you remember? The heroine lets her handsome young lover have his freedom, even though she wants to keep him. I knew that sooner or later we'd end up the same way. Either I'd walk out on you or, more likely, you would choose... what did you just call it?... respectability."
"It was the wrong choice. Oh, God, Jimmy, it was so wrong. Oh, baby, can I have a second chance? Can't we get back what we had?"
"Hal, please, hands off. You gave me these yellow briefs, but now they're mine and they stay on me. Look, Hal, my good friend, my first real love, going forward is hard enough. Going back is flat-out impossible. I would really like us to be friends, easy, relaxed, casual friends who are always glad to see each other, but I'm in love with Searle, and he's in love with me, and I'm a one-man cocksucker. Would you like to see him? He'll be back pretty soon, I think. You'd like him, and he'd like you. I've told him a lot about you."
"Is he rich?"
"What kind of a question is that?"
"A pretty natural one, I think. Come on, Jimmy, what are you doing at the Kentucky Derby? Who's paying for this fancy hotel room? When I last saw you, you didn't have cabfare across Central Park. You were living with your father. Not that you told me about him."
"How did you find out about my father? You didn't put some sleazy detective on me, did you?"
"No, I called you from Easthampton on Sunday when Judy was out. And the man who answered the 'phone said he was your father. Kind of a surprise, baby. You'd given me such a song and dance about the straight roommate you lived with who wouldn't understand if I came and spent the night."
"Well, he is straight. And he wouldn't understand. But I'm sorry, Hal, sorry I didn't tell you the truth. I wanted you to think I was glamorous or mysterious or something."
"Where's your dad now? Did you walk out on him, too?"
"No. I didn't. He didn't really like New York, and he's gone to live with my sister in Florida. And, okay, I feel like a shit about it. But it was really hard to write and take care of him, too."
"Well, I knew you were going to be a writer, no matter what it took. Even if you starved to death in the process. I'm glad you're not starving."
"Guess what, Hal? It turns out that I am a writer. Esquire bought a story of mine. They'll publish it in July, and they assigned Searle and me to do a piece on chic horse breeders. He'll do the photos. The magazine is paying our expenses here in Louisville, and I've got to finish dressing so that we can get to a brunch the governor is throwing. Which shirt looks better, do you think?"
"They're both great. Turnbull and Asser, aren't they? Go with the broad blue stripes. To match those incredible eyes of yours. Tell me, though, Jimmy, obviously it pays, but is this the kind of writing you really want to do? About the idle rich?"
"Nope, not really. But it covers the rent. And cabfare. And if you have to know, Searle has a trust fund. We're going to Greece in August. Maybe you'll come over on Judy's father's yacht."
"Low blow. You don't love me. You hate me."
"No, Hal, I don't. I really don't. Sometimes, I even dream about things we did together, and it's as though I can taste you and feel you in me and hear you panting over me. But they're just dreams. I loved you. Past tense. I don't love you anymore. But I'll never hate you."
"Have you ever thought about my dreams, Jimmy? I used to dream about taking you to Europe the way Henry, my professor, took me. I used to dream about coming home from work and finding you writing and pulling you out of your chair and into the bedroom and stripping you naked so that I could kiss you all over. Jimmy, I still dream about tickling you to the point that you are helpless with laughter and you put your arms around my neck and pull me down onto you."
"Stop, Hal! Don't. For god's sake, don't do this to yourself, to us. What we had was wonderful. For me it was amazing. But we've ended it. Both of us. You go back now to your wife and your boy and your work, and I'll go to my lover and our life, and someday we'll meet at some big party in New York, and we'll smile and shake hands and we'll each ask the other if he's all right. And we both will be all right. We will. I know it."
"Have I got a choice?"
"No, Hal, I'm sorry. You had a choice once. But not now."
"Can I at least kiss you good-bye? Please?"
"Sure, Hal. For old time's sake. The kiss thing. Button my shirt for me and I'll put my hands around your waist. Yeah, like that. Like we used to do it."
"Excuse me, am I interrupting something?'
"Oh. Searle, no, not exactly. Hal was just... You remember Hal... Searle, let me... It's not what you ... Oh, shit!"
[Curtain]