I've Always Loved You - 24. California Dreamin'

California Dreamin’, On Such a Winter’s Day

It was a good thing they were starting to film Monday morning. Having New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day in the middle of the week, made Friday Night before to the following Sunday Night one long weekend! Tuesday and Wednesday this time. Nine days! Things like Chet’s new bike was kept in the entrance room by the back door…or one of the back doors…it was near the laundry room! This was the West! I bought a house in Texas in a town that bordered on edge of the West. St. Louise had the gateway West with the arch. Whoever built the house I had now took the song that asked to give “land, lots of land with the stary skies above, don’t fence him in” took that very seriously. The rooms in our home in Fort Worth were bigger. Maybe. No, I wasn’t going to break out a tape measure. The people that claimed size doesn’t matter almost always never had the size in the first place. If it bothered you, there were things that could be done through medication and exercise. Yes, I’m obviously talking about cock size. I knew this guy from high school who was gorgeous! Arian was an athlete and in great shape; until he took his underwear off. His mother had been given a medication that would ease her delivery of him. It wasn’t his fault! She miscarried four times before Arian. His mother was unique and named her son unique. It was Diethstylibestrol. You don’t know what that is!? Me either. D.E.S. was an estrogen hormone the lab created. They quit using in the early 1970’s. It didn’t work tests claimed. She miscarried all before the end of her second trimester. She pleaded with her doctor who claimed several successes with DES, so he gave it to her before they tried the fifth time to get Arian. He and I were friendly and if I was gay back then, I would have been all over him! (Ha! Just because I denied the truth did not mean I didn’t really know I was. I just couldn’t say it.) I saw what he tried to hide. His penis looked like a preadolescent’s penis. I felt badly for him! Yes, I felt sorry for him. His gym locker was on the end next to a wall. My locker was next to his. It was clear what he was doing, he was the first to shower and got out quickly. Our lockers didn’t change for two years! He found out I knew the whole truth when I protected him a few times. I would place myself between Arian and anyone else to block their view. There was one time, God’s gift to Humanity when it came to…everything from the heart, girls and all things athletic had made a rat tail from his wet towel. You know what those are. Towels wound up tight and thick on one end and the thin end snapped at your leg or ass depending on the skills of the one that made it, could leave a mark. Not to mention hurt like Hell! I attended many a Day Camp with my fellow “Royal Crusaders.” The Baptist Temple’s equivalent of Scouts. I entered the training for the knights at six as a Page; then a Squire and finally Knighthood as you were about to graduate high school and begin your crusade with the world. We learned about rat tails, and I was taught by Elton, the preacher’s other son. He was four years older, but an expert and he taught me to do it fast! Mr. Wonderful snatched Arian’s towel while Arian was wearing it. Locker rooms in Gym weren’t always roomy and Arian tripped. You could see the disaster about to happen. I took my towel, did the quick fold and spin, snapping the stinging end at Mr. Wonderful. His rat tail was dropped, I tossed Arian’s back over him saving him embarrassment. We after that he told me how and why. I assured him I would say nothing. I did give him a present the next week. A book. The Kama Sutra. He was baffled.

“It’s about more different ways to have sex,” I told him. “We are beings made for intimacy.” I opened the book. “It’s in Sanskrit and English. Chapter Three, Verse One; begins to tell you how to find the right one. Up through verse thirty-five tell you how to win trust and make yourself irresistible.” I leaned closer and spoke more confidently. “Chapter Seven!” I raised a finger and grinned, “Is all about preparing you!” I flipped to the page I remembered. “Preparing your body.” The was an illustration of a man with a weight hanging from his penis, not from his scrotum, but secure around his penis. There were cautions for men that were not circumcised about stretching the foreskin and ways to do it. I turned the page. “Even increase the girth!”

It was very embarrassing and then I wondered; why!? It is the one activity all Humans desired to do! So, talk about it! It was very personal, that’s why. Guys will boast about sex to each other if it is true or not. Rarely will they talk honestly to each other. I proved myself to Arian when I protected him a few times, which he tested by confiding in me and I didn’t let him down. We even became better friends! At school. He was a jock, and I was a musician. So, nothing beyond school. I was not gay yet. Remember? The book I gave him began working!

Oh! By the way, Elton did the worst thing possible. He met and married a Buddhist and converted. He had two little girls now. That spread through Dr. Johnson’s Parish like wildfire. Elton was a Buddhist. When someone wanted to fan the flame and make it go further by telling me, I sort of threw water on the flame.

“What kind?” I asked a man spreading the rumor.

“What?” Jim Norris, a young man in his early thirties that had a hard time holding on to his wife as well as his job. He was a plumber and rather good, but…I felt like he saw himself as a Blue-Collar Plumber rubbing elbows with White-Collar Doctors and Lawyers! Some of those doctors and lawyers reminded people like Jim know they were being allowed to. Not my father, but there were a few others that did. “Who cares? He’s a Buddhist!”

“He seeks wisdom,” I explained. “Buddhism encourages people to ask questions and gain wisdom. Elton has tons of questions and the answers he was getting weren’t making sense. It is more than possible for him to still be a Christian and a Buddhist.”

“What!?”

“There are Catholic Priests that practice Buddhism,” I shrugged. “They shun self-indulgence and gathering of wealth. Buddha is not worshipped; he was a teacher that showed how to cleanse your mind and soul. That sounds good to me. I don’t like the answers I’m getting, either.”

Was that a rabbit? Kind of. I’ll try harder to avoid them. It was more of a little history for better perspective. Where was I? Oh, yeah! The house was a genuinely nice five or six bedrooms (the study could be a sixth bedroom) and four and a half baths. Four thousand square feet at various levels. Whoever the architect was, given a challenge of sloping property and did a fine job. You entered one level, the living room and family room and master bedroom on a level down a few steps…the living room and dining room were close enough to see, the bedroom in another direction. What level you were on you either went down steps or up to the level courtyard and pool/fountain was large enough for Chet and a few adults, but no laps. Or up from the lower levels to the courtyard. Mark had a room to use, Chet had a room, Mike and I had a room and when Avi and Eli get here, they had a room. If we had guests…Mark had other clients and would not be there all the time. We had room! We let Chet pick out the room he would use first. He chose the one that looked out and through thick foliage you saw Westgate Heights and Santa Monica below. He made him feel like he was in a treehouse high above the city.

Inga introduced two men. One blond and one man was Afro-something. Seeing the three of them together, I heard the opening scene for that show in the late sixties that played on television that was broadcast on a Nostalgia Channel while I recovered right after the blood clot. “One black, one white, one blonde.” I was looking at a Twenty-First Century Mod Squad! I liked that show! Michael Cole was nice looking, but…I had a thing for Tige Andrews. Captain Greer? I had daddy issues then. My parents were dead, and I needed a parent/fantasy lover at the time. He was perfect! Mark wasn’t a daddy. Tige made a great Klingon! I hated him. Mission accomplished!

“This is Andy Jonns,” Inga pointed at the blond man who wore a chef’s jacket, but his sun-bleached blond hair and tan skin said he was a typical Southern Californian Surfer Dude. He stuck his hand out to us.

“The name Andy is short for Andromeda,” He chuckled. “I was named after the galaxy.” He shrugged. “Grandma was a hippie.”

“She had high aspirations for you!” I grinned in greeting. I saw Mike’s puzzled face, “Well, it’s bigger than our Milky Way by nearly fifty percent!”

“Oh,” Mike nodded as he now understood.

“This is Mr. Tankiso Matela.” Inga pointed to the other man. She sought a word, “He is your House Coordinator? Major-domo, or House Stewart?” She asked the man who nodded.

Mr. Tankiso smiled, “That’s right. I’m not a maid, butler or cook; I can and will do all those things as needed, but you have family with you. I didn’t know what you wanted to do for yourselves.” He smiled. I noticed a kind of accent, but…

“I was brought in to prepare all meals and snacks,” Andy said. “There will be others that assist us and can reheat and serve what I make. They know what to do.”

Inga nodded, “There will be others you will meet, but with your schedule, Mr. Richards,” she smiled, “we didn’t know.”

Mark stepped forward, “You’ll be busy.” He said to me. “You will be in the movie because of your music. The backers really want you in that movie. You aren’t some young starlet they hope will do well. You are a star with a proven track record of booming success and caught the world’s attention. A new recording is racing to the top; you just did a show seen by millions around the world. The iron is hot, and we are striking.” He waved at the three. “They are providing this level of service to ease your mind. Mike and Chet will be well taken care of.” He pointed with his thumb at Andy, “I told Mr. Galaxy here that you like organic, unprocessed foods. You were the cook.”

I nodded, “Mike can cook and does when I’m performing. I try to bulk up before a long engagement. I lose weight with my dance routines.”

“We also have Avi and Eli coming,” Chet informed. “They’re Jewish and eat a Kosher diet.” He looked at Mr. Tankiso. “You sound like my friend Jenny. Are you from South Africa, Mr. Tankiso?”

His eyes widened a little, but he smiled. “I lived there a while after we left Lesotho…”

“Where?” Chet asked puzzled.

Tankiso chuckled, “It’s mountainous country in the middle of South Africa. My parents took my sister and me out of the capital city of Maseru and fled when there was some trouble there. I came from South Africa to British Columbia. I’m Canadian now.”

That made sense. He was African. He was a handsome man from Africa. The immigration policies between those countries that didn’t fight the British Empire were a lot easier. Actors and Entertainment Industry People crossed the border more freely up there. I did shows in Vancouver, Quebec, and British Columbia. We’re all North Americans. Yes, the backers for this movie wanted me happy. The potential for making a lot of money was the real attraction. And why is it, something you’ve worked hard to achieve; when it starts, we can’t see it? Or are surprised by it? The promotors heard a bank vault open, not just a cash register. This was going to be a big vault.

I always tried to make music that people could relate to. A message would get through to them and they would understand what it meant on a personal level. Not just about the gay issue. We all did it with everything, but mostly, sex. I really hated false humility. I wouldn’t ever say “it was nothing.” It was something and took extremely hard work!! Lost sleep, having to work out phrases and the tunes to go with it…it was like you are possessed! You don’t eat. I learned music to be able to do it! Cords, scales, keys, arpeggios (cords that are broken into a sequence of notes and can span different octaves.). You learn a whole new language all about sound. You could do it by ear, but…I wanted people to be able to reproduce my music. I learned the language so they could do that. I promised to truly be grateful to the fans. They allowed me to do this.

“I can make anything Kosher, Vegan or use any restriction to a diet from gluten free to diabetic restrictions,” Andy smiled and bounced once. “I’m a studio chef. Mr. Hill informed me what things you eat, so tonight I made Cuban Seabass.” Andy shook his head, “You won’t go hungry.”

“Great!” Chet looked at Mike and me. “I’m starved!”

Mike pulled Chet over to him and put his arm around Chet’s neck from behind, “It’s an ongoing motto with this one.” He griped with smile on his face.

“We’ve hit bottom a few times,” I said to Mike.

Mike nodded, “For an hour maybe.”

“Naturally,” Tankiso smiled. “He’s growing!” He looked at Chet, “You’re what? Eighteen or nineteen?”

“I’m eight!” Chet said happily, he knew Tankiso was teasing him.

“Nooo!” Tankiso said in exaggerated shock. I liked them! Inga, too!

Tankiso and Andy had abilities that were still propelling them skyward. Their talents were honed and improved. Andy was in his early forties. The sun-bleached forehead bangs rested on bronzed-brown skin. He was a happy man! Time may have passed for Andy, but I just knew he looked almost the same twenty years earlier. Andy loved the sun and the outer corners of his eyes showed creases, but he wasn’t ugly at all! Blond, but not ugly. Tankiso was also in his forties and slender. I would find out that when he worked with some biggies, he ran their homes while the celebrity was working often on location. There were bills to be paid like electricity and gas, house payments, groceries…he did all that. And vacuumed, dusted and anything needed. You didn’t have a butler pay your utilities. He did. He told any maid, or gardener what to do. He coordinated the house. They worked for the studios so went to whomever needed coordinating. This time, it was us! Inga was my driver!? I admit, we did arrive safely. New York City and L.A. traffic were supposed to be killer. Especially I5 and I10 (Santa Monica Freeway).

We spent that evening getting things in places we would remember and could find it quickly if needed.

Before Chet fainted from a lack of food, he got to eat. Andy was a damned fine Chef. He went to the Escoffier Culinary School in Paris. You didn’t choose to go and apply. No. Word spread about a very good chef and someone from Escoffier visited a few times and then they would offer the chef a chance to go to Escoffier. It wasn’t a big school. Usually, there were only ten students went the same year. It was as if graduating from any culinary school you graduated with a bachelor’s degree in the culinary arts. Graduating from Le Cordon Bleu you had a master’s degree. Graduates of Escoffier gave you a doctorate’s degree. A PhD at cooking!? He was a genius! I knew there were different chefs even in the same kitchen, Executive Chef or Chef de Cuisine, Sous Chef who assisted the Executive Chef, Senior Chef and Station Chefs. Why did I know this? I thought about taking a course to become a chef. I could get a bachelor’s degree in two to three years. There was a master’s level of study that was five and a Doctorate’s in five to six years of study. Hear me. The Doctorate’s level of study was not so much about food. Restaurants are businesses. You need to stay competitive, nutrition, sanitation, Human Resources, Management, and other topics that had little to do with actually cooking. If there was, Andy had that degree from Escoffier. They took what he did well and made it even better!! Example: the Cuban Seabass was tender meat and it seemed to have been flash-fried! It was hot and tender meat inside and lightly cooked, quickly fried outer skin or batter that crunched very lightly and seasoned so well with…I don’t know! Cocktail or tartar sauce wasn’t needed, but there was a buttery sherry cream sauce that had a slight mustard-like taste…orgasm for the mouth! That one meal and I wondered how we could take him home after the movie was finished! The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? You’ve heard that, I’m sure. I wanted Mike and I to marry Andy. Give up Mike? No way, but we could both marry Andy. I looked at both of their left hands and neither had rings, but that didn’t mean anything. They had two very different personalities. Andy was a happy man that seemed open and friendly. Approachable. Tankiso was content but had a more strict and disciplined personality. He had a sense of humor, but it was more stoic. Later, it could be hours later before I realized he had told a joke. The common ground we shared and the why was; we were happy. We just were. Life threw things at us that could us be unhappy and depressed, but we pressed on and were happy. We saw things in a positive light. Honestly, I didn’t know how to be anything else.

Those in the industry had a reputation for ruining lives. They did with Mickie Rooney and Judy Garland.

It wasn’t that late for people on the West Coast, but those of us from Central Time and the Eastern Standard Time it was late. Chet fell asleep at about ten in the evening. Mike and I got ready for bed in the master bedroom on the upper level. He opened the bedroom door.

“I’m sure Chet will be fine,” Mike said confessed to me, “I just don’t want him to wake up in a new place and get scared.”

I nodded, “I don’t guess Chet’s ever experienced a tremor or quake.”

“No,” Mike shrugged. “Hurricanes we know, earthquakes? Not so much.”

“They claim it wasn’t a big deal,” I smiled. “There was property damage at the house we were supposed to use.” I looked at him at the other side of the bed and grinned. “Do you have your phone on you?”

Mike was standing in his boxers with a puzzled expression, “You wanna call someone now?”

I shook my head and pointed to him on the other side, “No, but you are way over there and I’m over here. You might need something.” I waved at the bed. “This is a California King-size bed. It will take a few minutes to get to each other.” I grinned. “It would be easier to call first.”

Mike smirked and tossed one of the two huge pillows on his side at me, “Oh, ha, ha.” He said sarcastically, “But this is California, and it is a king-sized bed.” He pointed at me, “You start over there and I’ll meet you in the middle.”

“I bring up the tremor because there are quakes all the time,” I shrugged. “There will probably be more while we’re here. We need to get him ready.”

“Mark’s down there,” Mike shrugged, “We’ll respond quickly, but he’s near Chet.”

I smiled getting in the bed and crawling over toward Mike, “Thanks, Mike.”

Mike’s face scrunched a bit, “What are you thanking me for?”

“Your support,” I said. “Without you, Mark and some supportive fans in Texas…I couldn’t do this.” I put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “But mostly, you. Mark is doing a job.” I saw Mike was going to say something, so I stopped him by placing a finger over his mouth. “No, it’s true. He saw and heard me, saw money making potential and began working then. He made it personal, but he does a damned good job! I wouldn’t have made it without him. I still love him.” I looked directly in Mike’s eyes. “I am in love with you! Chet adores him! I am thrilled you two get along so well. He’s a great uncle for Chet! And Mark is part of a family for the first time.”

Mike nodded, “Sure, I love him, too.”

“This town,” I said, “this industry is known for destroying lives. Now, we are going to repair damage done. Race, ethnics and sexuality were shunned and hidden, but not now! The song California Dreamin’ will have a positive meaning.” I looked at the lamps that were still on beside the bed. “Now, we have to crawl over to turn the lights off!?”

Mike grabbed me firmer, “No.” He smiled held what looked like an embedded remote control on the headboard. “You don’t.” He pressed a button, and the room went dark.