Jack Scribe
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“Hey, Ma, I’m home.” Jeremy closed the front door, engaged the two locks and turned to his mother. Mary Sloan was in the final stretch of her weeknight viewing schedule: Channel 5 news, followed by The Tonight Show. “Hello, dear. Did you have a good time with your friend?” Mary always watched her evening television shows in pajamas and a robe in her favorite blue chair. A walker and oxygen tank were parked within her reach. “Yeah, super. We went to that place on Armitage called Gej
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Sunday morning turned out to be a repeat performance of seven hours earlier for the two guys. Robert and Jeremy talked a little about their intimate actions in bed after Ty and Manny left. Neither felt remorse or guilt; it was as if a shroud of denial had been lifted. But denial of what? They decided to have further discussions the following weekend; the elder Steins would again be out of town. Both young men knew they had taken a big step toward defining themselves as adults. It was the
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“Did you ace the test?” Robert asked Jeremy as they walked downstairs to the first floor corridors and their lockers. Both seniors had opted for an open period at the end of the day for their final year of high school; Robert used it for studies and Jeremy took the time for travel to Bally’s. Advanced Spanish was a senior elective that each had chosen with an agreed upon support group of two. “Um…all right, I guess. You?” Jeremy nodded and smiled at some nameless sophomore and junior girl
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A blast of December wind hit Zach Carlson when he exited the Century Mall. The biting, cold wind from the lake temporarily distracted him from the hurt and anger he felt because of Gio’s wandering lust. He pulled up the collar of his jacket and walked a couple of blocks to where his car was parked. The nine-year old Ford looked cold, dirty and lonely under the stark streetlight. ‘Thank God we haven’t had much snow so far,’ Zach thought as he opened the door. ‘And I’ve got cloth seats.’ He
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There were just enough aches in his abs and obliques to signal that Jeremy had pushed himself to a satisfying completion in his workout. ‘Tomorrow will definitely be a legs day,’ he decided as he saw some of the guys who only worked on their upper body – their legs looked scrawny and unbalanced. There was just enough time to take a quick shower, shave and dress for his job at the gym’s front desk. At this point in his soon-to-be adult life, he got by with putting a razor to his sparse beard only
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It was late afternoon and Bally’s Fitness Center was still fairly quiet. Jeremy figured he had time to do a couple more reps of crunches on the incline board before he called it quits, showered and changed into his work uniform. Five days a week after school the teen would travel – either by bike or bus, depending on the changeable Chicago weather – from Lincoln Park High School to Bally’s in the Century Mall on Clark Street. He would exercise and workout before clocking in for his after-
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NOVEL. Jeremy and his group of friends are seniors at a Chicago high school. He juggles a part-time job (to help pay expenses at home) with the academic challenges and school activities of his final school year. His life reaches a watershed moment when he is offered a very unique job at the same time questions about sexual orientation are tested and answered.
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“I guess this goes under the category of good news – bad news.” Jerry had asked Dex to join him for a Friday afternoon review of the Stone situation. “While your report concerning the successful relocation to Atlanta of the boy and his mother is positive, the initial intervention with Congressman Stone was a bust. He absolutely denied having any involvement with a boy…ever…and told our man to ‘fuck off’ before storming out.” “It seems like Stone is wrapped up in a combination of denial and
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“The first thing is to deal with the mother and boy – Sylvia Brown and Billy,” Jerry Sebastian said after looking over the reports and case data Monday morning. He and Dex were sitting in the AOI conference room reviewing the paper trail. “The ideal situation would be to get them out of the Chicago area and relocate them to another state.” “I asked Jon Brooks to contact Mrs. Brown. He spoke very briefly to her last Friday night and found out that she works as a housekeeper at the large down
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“I guess if the pork industry can claim to be the other white meat, we can get behind the Kurds and their other Iraq tagline. The dicey part is trying to figure out how to divide distinct districts that will separate the Sunni and Shiites.” Phil was having an off-the-record conversation with Toby McGill from the Vice President’s office at the Old Ebbitt Grill as they waited for Jerry Sebastian to join them for lunch. Toby had requested a quiet corner when he made reservations that Wednesday morn
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“You don’t think the party leadership is going to be pissed?” Phil was finishing up his Wednesday morning meeting with Mandy and her chief of staff, Joyce Goldstein, at the Michigan Avenue office. “Between the party chairman and Harry over at the senate, I can’t get any agreement on offering any ideas on our position on Iraq. This is the administration’s Achilles heal and I want to twist whatever I can grab,” Mandy said with conviction. “We’ve got elections to win and America is thoroughly
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Experiencing the early August climate around Foggy Bottom could best be compared with sitting, fully clothed, in a hot, rock-sizzling sauna. Congress had hung up the standard Not in Session sign and the members set off to various points of interest. Consensus was that this was not the year to be seen at resorts or on yachts with lobbyists. The usual gravy train ‘fact finding’ trips – paid for by the U.S. government in action – allowed several congressmen and senators to explore ‘important’ issue
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Chip nervously watched the digital clock count down the minutes and seconds. ‘The bewitching hour, indeed,’ he thought as the time neared the 5:00 a.m. deadline in London and midnight at the operations central console. His eyes darted between the infrared imaging from the house on Sycamore Drive and the linked London GPS grid. He was coordinating the electronic operations with his London counterpart and monitoring Scotland Yard’s telephone tracking devices. Behind him was an F.B.I. agent with a
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With the F.B.I. interrogation completed, Chip offered to take Kyle home. However his cell phone interrupted that plan. While waving goodbye to the two agents and AOI associate, Tom Spicer, he answered and listened intently to the caller. He nodded silently several times and ended the call with, “Yes, Sir. I’ll see you ASAP.” “Guys, I’ve got to get to AOI. Looks like I’m going to join the team working on this kidnapping and I’ve got to get over to headquarters. Um, Kyle, I hate to impose…ah,
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Dex knew two things: they had been skillfully over-powered and Geoff was the target. ‘But of what?’ he wondered as the SUV sped down Connecticut Avenue. The driver traversed Dupont Circle and turned onto Massachusetts Avenue. ‘This has got to be more than a kidnapping for ransom money…although god knows Timmons has enough of it. I wonder how long they’ve been watching him or us?’ “One wrong move and you’re dog meat,” the man next to Dex said. Without warning, Dex felt the cold metal of hand
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Dex had a feeling of contentment as he sat with Kyle and the Lewinthal brothers on the rear deck of Chip’s Bethesda home. They had just finished a hearty dinner of chicken bar-b-que, roasted corn and salad. ‘Just the way to spend a warm, late July evening,’ he thought as he took a swig from the beer bottle. “Guys, I’m going inside and see if Sally needs any help getting the twins to bed,” Chip said as he got up. “Those little guys can be a handful at bath time.” “Don’t I know it,” Brad
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“So Dex is in Europe?” Phil asked. He was working with Kyle to finish a few press releases and firm up an interview with Newsweek. Mandy was going to be their cover story for the next issue. “They’re based at AOI’s facility outside Strasbourg. He was pretty impressed with the training and the AOI people over there. And apparently his command of the French language didn’t go unnoticed. Dex should be back in the States by Friday to finish up next week.” “And then our excursion to the bea
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The remainder of May dragged professionally for Dex but it sparkled privately. Except for official debriefings with his F.B.I. supervisor, tedious report writing and the wrap-up of his involvement in the undercover investigation were done in the privacy of his apartment. This arrangement gave Dex ample opportunity to review all the AOI material that he accessed on a secure Internet site. By the time he reported to the AOI training center in Quantico, Dex planned to have the details memorized to
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Kyle was definitely walking on a cloud not yet numbered when he arrived at his office cubicle to start the new week. The Capitol Police detail at the Rayburn building entrance and his fellow workers could observe a broad, shit-eating grin that announced to the world he was a very satisfied young man. As requested, he called Phil over the weekend and gave his friend a brief rundown of how the evening went with Dex. He also confirmed that the two would be able to join Mac and Phil for dinner
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‘What an extraordinary turn of events,’ Dex thought, marveling at the way his life had changed in the past two weeks, especially the relationship that was developing with Kyle. He was sure that a path was being etched in the asphalt of P Street due to the two going back and forth to each other’s apartments. Dex had invited Kyle for a special dinner on Friday night and was already rehearsing his speech about exploring their relationship. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for the L word…yet. But we’re defi
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Mac opened one eye to verify that the warm, furry body next to him was not a dream. The new morning cast a dim light in the bedroom and he noticed the red digital numbers on his clock radio read 5:38. ‘Man,’ he thought, ‘Phil was really something last night. I wonder if a second visit is in the cards?’ He snuggled in a little closer. With an arm draped around the slow-breathing body, Mac scooted to park his morning wood into the hot crevice of Phil’s backside. The movement brought a respons
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Dex grabbed two rocks glasses, poured a generous portion of Dewar’s White Label into each and, as requested, did not add ice to Kyle’s drink. With cocktail napkins in tow, he looked down at the floor and silently shook his head. “Let’s go into the living room,” Dex said, carrying in the two glasses. He motioned Kyle to sit down on the couch as he sat down in an over-stuffed easy chair. ‘I hope I’m right in trusting this guy with what I’m going to tell him,’ he thought, while studying his up
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“Hey, Kyle. You awake?” Dex asked. He had his arm draped around Kyle and his morning woodie burrowed in his blond bedmate’s crack. Dex slowly moved his hard cock back and forth a few times to gently bring Kyle into consciousness. “Ummm, this is nice,” was the sleepy reply. “What time is it?” Kyle pushed back to greet his new friend’s erection. “Unfortunately, time to get up. I hate to waste a good hardon but I’ve got an early meeting.” Dex reached down and wasn’t surprised that Kyle wa
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It was 7:30 a.m. on a dreary, overcast, Friday morning at the Starbucks on the corner of 16th and K. Dex had just ordered a double cappuccino and patiently waited for his briefing contact to arrive. He smiled and felt pleased that the meeting with Kyle the previous night had gone so well. He contemplated that they were both beckoned to early morning meetings but for different reasons. Dex scanned the front page of the Washington Post and savored some of Seattle’s finest while the baristas
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Kyle was thinking about his good fortune in meeting a ‘Mr. Right’ at Cobalt the night before last. ‘Well,’ he decided, ‘Mr. Right at least for a night.’ The special assistant from the Vice President’s office, MacDonald Price, gave him a card before departing very early. ‘How did the saying go; a fuck in every port?’ he thought, forlornly. ‘Or a storm in every fuck?’ Cobalt hosted a retro Solid Gold night with buck martinis every Tuesday. Once in a while, Kyle loved trading in his pinstripe
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