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Poor Man's Son - 36. Chapter 35
August 6, 2000
Colorado
Gathan
“Hey,” Matt said as he answered his phone with a total lack of enthusiasm.
“Hey Matt, it’s Gathan.”
“Yeah, that whole caller-ID thing is pretty awesome,” he said, making fun of me.
“Yeah, well I need your advice on something.”
“What?” he asked.
“I picked up one of your friends here on the highway in the middle of the country. Found this guy sitting on his duffle bag with his head in his hands on the shoulder of I-80 in the middle of fucking Nebraska.” My tone was definitely in the smart-ass category. Matt and I had never really hit it off. He seemed to find me annoying, and I thought he was an arrogant prick.
“Cole?” he asked.
“That’s the one,” I said.
“What happened? Where are you now?” Now that we were talking about his friend, he put his attitude aside, and I responded accordingly.
“Dude, it’s hard to figure out, and he won’t say shit no matter how hard we try to get him to talk.”
Matt laughed. “He was my roommate when I first moved into the dorms. I made a rule that he had to speak at least ten sentences to me every day.”
“I should try that,” I said. “You should see Kristin and Darius trying to get him to loosen up.” Those two social beasts were totally flummoxed by Cole.
“So where are you?”
“Right now we’re in Colorado, getting gas. I snuck off to call you. Cole says he has to go to Denver.”
“That makes sense. His girlfriend lives there. They’re really tight. She’s kind of a dork, but super nice.”
“He said his parents kicked him out of the house,” I added. “He didn’t seem too upset about it.”
“They have this whole control thing with him. I think the reason he doesn’t say anything is because his mom never stops talking,” Matt joked. “He said he wanted to see the farm, because he loved the land, but he knew it would probably end up being a shitty visit.”
“That sucks,” I said unnecessarily. “Well, we’re going to haul his ass to Denver. We were going to bring him to Palo Alto, but he’s set on staying in Colorado. That’s why I called you. I didn’t want to leave him here if that’s not a good idea.”
“It’s cool,” Matt said. “Leave him there. Allison is good for him. She’ll just drag him back when she comes out here.”
“Got it,” I said. I ended the call and felt better about Cole, and better about Matt. Maybe he and I could get to a place where we were actually friends, and not two alpha males trying to fight over who’s the toughest.
I got back in the truck with my posse and tried to strike up a conversation with Cole, but it still didn’t work; the guy would just not talk. I finally gave up and just focused on watching the mile markers count down as we got closer to Denver.
August 7, 2000
Denver, CO
Gathan
We were up early, not because we had anywhere we had to be, but because we were trying to avoid Allison’s family. They were really nice people, almost too nice. They’d been so happy we’d picked Cole up; they’d just gone out of their way to make sure we were comfortable. They lived in a huge fucking house in the mountains west of Denver, and wouldn’t hear of us not staying with them. We’d stayed up with Allison, Cole, and her parents, mostly talking and playing games, until we finally escaped back to our rooms. They’d been the picture of propriety, and had put Darius and me in one room, and Ella and Kristin in the other.
“That was a big fucking breakfast,” Darius said.
“It was good,” I agreed. “So where do I go?” I’d pulled out of their driveway and gone down to the gas station to fill up the tank.
“You get back on I-25,” he said.
“You said I-80 was boring. Is there another way?”
“That’s the fastest,” he said.
“Are we in a hurry?” Kristin asked. “I’m having fun just getting there.”
Darius looked at the map, and then turned to me with a big smile on his face. “What?” I asked.
He pointed at the map. “Vegas.”
“Vegas? Las Vegas?”
“Yeah. Dude, all we have to do is get on I-70 and go west, and then catch I-15 south into Vegas.”
“What are we going to do in Vegas? We can’t gamble, and we can’t drink.”
“Some of us have fake IDs,” he said arrogantly. I needed to get one of those. “We go see some shows, shop, see the Strip. It’s fun. You have to see it.”
“I’ve never been to Las Vegas,” Kristin said. Ella said nothing. She’d go along with whatever Darius wanted.
“Vegas it is,” I said, placating Kristin and Darius. Hell, it might be fun. We headed west on I-70. I figured that I’d end up driving for part of the way while everyone else crashed, and then Darius would take a turn so I could rest. It didn’t happen that way at all.
Our little detour down Interstate 70 turned out to be a trip through some amazingly beautiful country. In Colorado, we drove through valleys and canyons carved out by rivers, and in Utah, we were met first by classic Southwestern mesas and rock formations in stunningly beautiful colors. That gave way to mountains, and a more alpine topography, and then into prairie/pasture lands. When we were almost to Nevada, we went through an awesome canyon, with some of the most amazing rock formations I’d ever seen. It didn’t get boring until after that, until we left Mesquite, Nevada, and then it became a drive across a barren desert landscape. It was pretty late when we got into Vegas. We drove down the Strip, gawking at all the lights and the people, not to mention the hotels and their various attention-getting attractions.
“Where are we staying?” El asked. I recognized her mood. She was tired and probably hungry too.
“We don’t have reservations,” I said. “Pick a place.”
That was pretty tough because there were seemingly so many choices. The Paris hotel was an attractive option, especially after our recent trip, but there were others as well. In the end, we decided on Paris, and we were about to head there when the fountains started at Bellagio. They were so beautiful, the way the water shot up in different ways and shapes to match the music.
“Let’s stay here,” I announced. They ignored me; they were too busy watching the water show.
We pulled up to the valet parking reception. “Checking in, sir?” a guy asked.
“If we can get a room,” I said.
He smiled. “We’ll keep your car here for you while you go talk to the front desk.” I left him my keys and the four of us strode into the classy lobby. I kind of expected to be treated like some teenagers on a field trip, but they were really nice to us.
“We’d like two rooms,” I told the check-in employee, some girl named Giselle.
“For how many nights?” she asked.
I turned to the others. “How long you want to stay here?”
“Couple of days,” Darius said.
“Three nights,” I said impulsively.
Giselle punched away at her computer, and punched away, and punched away. “I’m sorry. We’re not showing any standard rooms for three nights.”
“What do you have available?” I asked.
“We have a couple of suites available,” she said. “They’re priced from $500 to $6000 a night.”
“$6000 a night?” I asked, amazed.
She smiled indulgently. “Those are our villas. They’re on a private part of the property, with their own pool and limo entrance.”
“I’d rather be here with a view of the fountains,” Kristin said. I looked at Giselle, prompting her to answer Kristin’s question.
“If you want to spend $2000/night, I can book you into Grand Lakeview Suite,” she said. That was a lot of money, but her tone, one that implied we couldn’t afford it, made the decision for me. “The suite has two bedrooms, each with his and her baths.”
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll take it.” I handed them Stef’s corporate card, and got us all checked in. It took us a bit to get our things organized so a bellman could take them up, so it seemed to take forever to actually get up to the room. We walked into the suite and it was spectacular.
“This is almost as sweet as our place in Rome,” Darius said.
“Almost,” El said. We’d seen the pictures. That place had looked tight. This one was the bomb, though. There was a big central curve-shaped room that looked out over the lagoon and the fountains, and off this main living/dining area there were two amazing bedroom suites.
“The brochure says this place is 3000 square feet!” I said, amazed.
“Look,” El exclaimed. “There go the fountains.” We watched the water show, and then ordered room service for dinner. This was going to cost me some cash, but it would be worth it.
August 9, 2000
Malibu, CA
Will
“You seem kind of down today,” Grand said to me as I sat next to him.
“Maybe your bad mood rubbed off on me,” I joked.
“What bad mood?” he joked back. He was going home tomorrow, so he was all psyched.
“You should see Escorial. The place is chaotic as they all try to prepare for the return of the lord and master.”
“And that is as it should be,” he said with faux arrogance. “Did you plan to share why you are down, or is that something you would prefer not to talk about?”
“You know me too well,” I groused. “Berto missed our call today.”
“Missed your call?”
“Yeah. We talk every day at around noon our time.”
“You know there are a lot of reasons he might have missed your call, not the least of which is a dead cell phone battery.” He picked up his phone. “Here, plug this in for me.”
I plugged his phone into the charger. “He missed our call yesterday too,” I admitted.
“International phone calls can be expensive,” he said, making another excuse for Berto.
“Yeah, but we don’t always talk on the phone. We chat online.” He looked pensive. “And before you try and think of another excuse, he could have at least sent me an e-mail to let me know what was going on.”
“Long distance relationships are hard,” he philosophized.
“Yeah, only it’s not like we’re in this big committed relationship. We’re friends, and I really care about him. I can’t believe he’d just blow me off like that.”
“You approach relationships with a great deal of intensity,” he said.
“Is that wrong?”
“No, but it is dangerous. You will probably endure a great deal of heartache from partners who define relationships less rigorously than you do.”
“Great. That’s not much to look forward to.”
He overlooked my attitude. “When you find the man who appreciates what you have to offer, and you understand that you can trust him, you’ll end up with a relationship others will only be able to envy. That is the reward that awaits you at the end of all these trials.”
“You sound so biblical,” I joked.
“I’ve been called a god, the devil, a saint, and many other things. None of that makes any difference to me as long as they let me go home tomorrow.”
My phone rang and I looked at the caller-ID. “It’s Dad,” I told Grand, so he’d know why I was interrupting our conversation to answer the phone. “Hey,” I said, after I hit ‘talk’.
“How are you?” Dad asked.
“I’m fine. I’m sitting here with Grand, trying to keep him from escaping a day early.” Grand just nodded.
“Let me talk to him,” Dad said, not getting that I was joking. It was funny how frazzled he’d gotten over Grand’s surgery; he loved Grand a lot more than he ever let on.
“I was joking,” I said. “What do you want?”
“I can’t call just to talk?”
“Not when you interrupted an interesting conversation. Talking on the phone when you’re with other people is rude.” Another nod from Grand.
“I want to steal you away from Paly for the weekend,” he said. This sounded interesting.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Hawaii.”
“I’m all over that,” I said. I loved Maui. “When do we leave?”
“I’ll pick you up on Friday.”
I hit the ‘end’ button and turned to Grand. “I’m blowing you off this weekend.”
“Oh? Who is more alluring than I am?”
“Hawaii.”
“I can see that,” he said, smiling supportively.
August 9, 2000
Las Vegas, NV
Gathan
“Dude, this place is the beast!” Darius said as we wandered through the casino. Yesterday, one of the bellmen had hooked us up with a place to get fake IDs. They’d made us all California driver’s licenses that looked as good as the real deal. It had cost us a grand to get four of them, but it was worth it. They were so good Darius got a new one to replace the crappy one he’d scored in LA. “Let’s play some more blackjack.”
“I thought we were going shopping,” Ella said, pouting.
“That was the plan,” Kristin agreed.
“Shopping, then more blackjack,” I said.
“Fine,” Darius agreed grudgingly. “And some pool time.”
There was a shopping mall at Caesar’s Palace, which was just next door. We walked over there and found every elite shop you could imagine. I’d been poor for so long, it was kind of weird to have money now. I had a blast. I could go into any store, find something I liked, and buy it without even worrying about how much it cost. It was so liberating, such a rush, I kind of went nuts. We went into a pen store and I bought a $2,000 Mont Blanc pen and pencil. Then we went into some store where they sell purses, and Darius and I both spent a shitload of money on Louis Vuitton bags for Kristin and Ella. Then we went to a bunch of clothing stores and bought stuff for going out at night, and finally ended up at the jewelry store, and bought jewelry for our lovely ladies. I dropped $20,000 on a sapphire earring and necklace set for Kristin.
“You guys are spending a lot of money,” Ella cautioned.
“So?” Darius asked. “What good is money if you can’t spend it on the people you love?”
“That’s right,” I agreed. I hadn’t been keeping track of how much cash I’d dropped there, but I had over $180,000 in the bank, and I wouldn’t really need that much for the school year. I decided that I’d be fine. “Time to play more blackjack.”
We went to the tables and got a cash advance. I dropped about $5,000 due to a run of bad luck, but I didn’t worry about it. I’d been up and down the whole time we’d been here. I’d make it back. Besides, it was a blast sitting at a table and playing with Darius, El, and Kristin. I thought the four of us were getting pretty damn good at it, even if we weren’t winning all that much.
“We should figure out what we’re doing tonight and make reservations,” Kristin said.
“Let’s go see Blue Man Group,” Darius suggested. When we went upstairs to change for the pool, I made reservations and got us great seats. We went out for dinner at the hotel and ordered a $500 bottle of wine, then went to see the show. When we got back, we stood in our oval room and watched the fountains dance to the music, and then Kristin and I went to our room and made love. Vegas was paradise on earth: I loved it.
August 11, 2000
Palo Alto, CA
Will
“Dude, you don’t have to go to Hawaii with us,” I told Pat. “You can stay home and relax instead.” I was giving him shit. I knew he was stoked to go there.
“I have to put up with all your crap when I’m, uh, guarding you, I might as well enjoy the perks too.” He almost slipped up and said babysitting.
I moved my hand in the air the same way I did when I was jacking off. “Come on Pat; say the ‘B’ word.”
“Very funny,” he said, getting all pissy, which of course made me laugh my ass off. We got to the airport and had to wait a few minutes for the plane to get there. It wasn’t easy to recognize my dad’s Gulfstream unless you knew what to look for. It was devoid of any descriptive markings; it was only the tail number that made it identifiable when paired next to another G-V.
As soon as the chocks were in place, I dragged Pat over to the plane and waited as the stairs unfolded. The General Aviation guys put our bags in the plane while we climbed up the stairs. As soon as we were inside, the stairs retracted, the doors closed, and we were ready to go again.
“Hey,” I said to my dad, giving him a big hug. I was surprised to find Robbie here. “Hey Pop!” Another big hug, but one of his trademark ones.
“How is Grand doing?” Dad asked me. “I wanted to stop in and see him, but we’re behind schedule.”
“He knows that. I told him you’d stop in and see him when we get back. He’s fine, especially now that he’s home.”
“I hate hospitals,” Dad said.
“He’s got himself all set up, with books, and a bunch of people to jump whenever he needs something. I think he’s happy.”
“Welcome, Pat,” Dad said, now that our greeting was over. “If our conversation becomes boring, you can join Ted in the back.” Ted was the guard they’d brought along. It was my dad’s pleasant way of dismissing Pat.
“Sounds good,” Pat said, and vanished to the back of the plane, out of earshot of our conversation.
“Uncle Jack said that Grand is doing really well. They think they got all of the cancer. There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?” Dad asked nervously.
“He can’t have butt sex for a while.” They both tried not to laugh at that, but couldn’t quite pull it off.
“That may be a challenge,” Robbie said as he chuckled.
“Stef said that was just fine with him,” I joked, really cracking them up.
“He is such a bottom,” Dad said, then acted all nervous, like he was telling me something I didn’t know. It irritated me when he did that; when he treated me like I was some naïve kid.
“So why did you come along?” I asked Robbie. He wasn’t into surfing, so he didn’t usually join us on these outings.
“You don’t want me along?”
“Not really,” I joked. He was fun to mess around with.
“I promised an old friend of mine that I’d bring you over to Hawaii to go surfing. I guess I bragged about how good you were a little too much; he wants to see you,” Dad answered, totally ignoring my question about why Robbie was along. I tried not to let that bother me.
“If he wanted to see me, he should have been in Rome,” I joked, trying to keep the mood light.
Robbie snaughed, while my dad gave both of us dirty looks. “He wants to surf with us.”
“That’s cool,” I said, and leaned back in the cushy chair. I looked at my dad, then at Robbie, studying them. Robbie was nervous; he was so easy to read. “Who is this guy?”
“Scott Slater,” Dad said. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
“How do you know him?”
“We went to high school with him,” Dad said nervously. “He owns a surf shop on the island, and he’s been staying in our villa.”
“Why are you so nervous about going over there?”
“I’m not nervous,” my dad lied.
“Well, if you’re not, he sure is,” I said, pointing at Robbie.
“Someday I’ll tell you about it,” he said, trying to blow the whole thing off.
“Someday?” He just ignored my question, and that really pissed me off. I hated it when he did that. “Look, if you’re going to keep secrets from me, that’s fine, but you’re going to have to become much better actors. You can’t just tell me part of the deal. How would you like it if I did that to you?” I saw Robbie try not to smile at that, but he couldn’t stop, even though my dad was glaring at him for it. Everyone knew it drove my dad nuts to know there was a secret, but not know what it was.
“I said I’d tell you someday,” he reiterated firmly, as if that were justification for taunting me with the mystery.
“Alright,” I said calmly. “I just have one question.”
“Go ahead,” Robbie said, even though Dad was ignoring me.
“Are you saying ‘someday’ because you think I’m too immature to understand this complex relationship that you have with this guy, or are you saying ‘someday’ because you’re waiting to decide if you can really trust me or not?” He tried to ignore what I asked, but I stared at him, forcing him to think about my words.
“It’s not reasonable for you to demand to know every detail of my private life,” he finally said, grasping at straws.
“Then like I said, you should be a better actor.”
“There are some things you just don’t need to know about,” he said, piling on the rationale to back up his crappy argument.
I looked at Robbie. “You too afraid of him to call him on that line of crap?”
That should have pissed Robbie off, but he took it in stride. Part of me smiled at that, and at the progress he’d made since we got back from Europe. “I’m not afraid of him. I’m just trying not to laugh.”
“You’re not helping,” Dad snapped. Now he was pissed at Robbie. It was time to take the heat off of Pop.
“You know, it’s been really awesome spending time with Grand. He actually seems to trust me, and he seems to think that I’m mature enough to handle big issues.” I adjusted myself in my seat to allow for a pregnant pause, and then continued in a smart-ass tone. “Maybe he’s an idiot, but I don’t think so. I mean, he’s a professor at Stanford; seems like a pretty smart guy to me.”
“He’s a smart guy,” Robbie agreed. “No question about that.”
“So what are these big issues that Grand talked to you about?” Dad asked, more of a demand.
“He trusted me enough to tell me that he is Kristin Hendrickson’s great-uncle. I’d say revealing to me that his father wasn’t Jack Crampton was a pretty big deal.”
“He told you about that?”
“Yeah, and he apologized for not telling his grandkids about it sooner.”
He sighed, a sigh of defeat. “Do you remember when we took down Omega this spring?”
“Yeah,” I said cautiously, now that he was opening up to me.
“The only thing that made that possible was information I got from Scott Slater. That’s not his real name, that’s his new identity.”
“His new identity?”
“After he gave me information on Omega, they put a contract out on him, so he had to change his looks, his name, everything.”
“Changed his looks?” I asked. “What, as in plastic surgery, like they did in ‘Batman’ for the Joker?” That was an older movie and his makeup was really lame, but Jack Nicholson was the bomb as the Joker. I was a fan of his, primarily because he was a good actor, but also because he’d been nice to me on the few occasions I’d seen him.
“They did a better job than that,” he said with a small smile. He paused before going on. “He trusted me with his life, and now, by telling you this, I’m entrusting his life to you as well.”
“I won’t betray that trust,” I said seriously, because I was. I stated it like a vow, and like a vow, I wouldn’t break it.
“I know you won’t,” he said, smiling at me proudly. “I promised him I’d bring you over to surf, like I said, and to see his shop.”
“It sounds like fun,” I said. “Did you go out with him? Or was it you that went out with him?” I asked Robbie.
“Not me,” Robbie said, as if he had better taste than that.
“He’s bisexual,” Dad said. “He and I, uh, had a thing when we were younger, but even then, we were just pretty much friends.” Then I got why Robbie was here. I knew he loved and trusted my dad, so this relationship must have been pretty intense for him not to want my dad to be alone with this guy.
“Is he cute?” I joked. “I kind of look like you did when you were young. Maybe he wants to reminisce?”
“That’s so not happening,” Dad said firmly. It was funny how he got all nervous, worried that he’d sounded like he was still into the guy, but Robbie and I had both picked up on the real motive. He was just watching out for me. “How’s Berto?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said, all pissed off. “He hasn’t talked to me for four days now.”
He and Robbie both looked at me, as if trying to think of something to make this better, but there was nothing for them to say. “I’m sorry,” Dad said.
“Not as sorry as Berto’s gonna be when we finally have a conversation,” I said.
- 32
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