The Land Whore - 19. Chapter 19

June 22, 1973

JP had taken Roger moving into the house in stride. I had expected a bigger reaction from him, either pro or con, but I guess that's just how he is. The ultimate stoic. Everyone else seemed thrilled, especially Sam. I think he was looking for a workout buddy. In the end, both he and Tonto had fit into our routine seamlessly.

And Tonto had been the biggest surprise of all. She totally doted on Roger. Maybe it's because she knew that I loved him, or maybe it's because she was a new-entry into our household as well, but whatever the reason, she took him under her protective wing.

These were the thoughts ruminating through my head as I was landing in LAX. I so did not want to be here. I was enjoying being home at Escorial and being with Roger. I loved having him around, waking up in the morning and seeing him next to me. Coming home at night and having him there. I already missed his warm, sexy body, his deep strong voice, and his unique scent that was like an aphrodisiac. I tried to caution myself, to hold back my feelings. I told myself that I had felt this way about guys in the past; guys like Peter, and that had gone awry. That my wiring was for multiple guys, multiple partners. That may be true, but right now, Roger was the only guy I wanted.

I unenthusiastically wandered through the airport and grabbed a cab to Malibu. Fortunately it was night time, so I didn't have to worry about traffic. I tipped the driver well and entered my house with a sense of dread. It turned out to be a well-deserved intuitive thought.

Josh was lying on the couch, stark naked, hard as a rock, and Jake was bringing him a drink wearing nothing but an apron. When Jake got close to him, Josh reached out and grabbed his ass, and I saw Jake cringe. I just stared at the interplay, outrage on one hand, and weariness on the other. Solving other people's problems was getting really old.

I dropped my bag and Jake saw me first. He ran over and hugged me. “Go get some clothes on,” I whispered in his ear.

“Oh hey Stefan, we were just having some drinks,” Josh said sheepishly.

“No you were not. You were forcing this kid to be your personal squeeze toy. He's just a kid Josh! You're fucking molesting him!” I had started off calm and ended up angry.

“He's not doing anything he doesn't want to do,” Josh said defiantly.

“You and I both know that is bullshit. I'm not even going to entertain that argument.”

He was going to try something else, a different tack, but it seemed to dawn on him that he was trapped, cornered. I was just curious as to which tactic he'd use to get out of it. It turned out that he picked the most effective one of all. Tears. He broke down crying. Fuck.

“I'm sorry Stefan. I can't help it.” He couldn't even say it. He couldn't even admit he was a pedophile.

“You are a pedophile Josh.”

“What's a pedophile?”

“A guy that likes to have sex with children. And that makes you dangerous.”

“I'm not dangerous. I'm not a bad person. Some kids like it. You just have to find the right ones.”

“You do not get it. Kids do not know what's going on. They are innocent. You have all the power on your side. It's dangerous, and worse, it's wrong.”

He just looked at me and fled upstairs to his room. I didn't stop him; I didn't want to deal with this, or with him. Jake came out with tears in his eyes, but at least he was dressed.

“I'm sorry,” I said. He said nothing and hugged me, not the hug of love, but the hug of someone seeking protection. “I will make sure this does not happen again.” He just nodded. “Where is Jason?”

“He went over to Miss Jackie's,” he said.

I looked at him sadly. “I'm tired. Very tired. I'm going to go to bed and we will deal with this in the morning.” He looked nervous. “If you want, you can spend the night with me. Just to sleep.” He smiled briefly, and followed me up the stairs.

Every where I went there was a crisis. A problem to solve. I felt so weary. I stripped down to my underwear and climbed in bed, the first time I'd worn underwear in bed since, well, I can't even remember. Jake climbed in bed and stayed well over on his side, and I just ignored him. I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the bed.

June 23, 1973

I woke up in the morning with Jake snuggled up to my chest and my arm around him protectively. I felt his morning hard on jabbing my leg and giggled. It wasn't sexual, it was just nature. Still, I didn't want him to wake up and find himself in bed rubbing up against another guy, so I extricated myself and headed to the shower. I took a long shower, trying to wash away the dread I felt. I was going to have to deal with Josh today.

I really liked Josh. He's not a bad guy. He just has a problem. Maybe I can help him, get him psychiatric care or something. And then the wheels clicked in my brain and I freaked out. The water pouring over me, soap in my eyes, and all I could think about was Brad. Brad had spent lots of time with Josh. Spent the night in the hotel alone with him. What had they done? What had Josh done to him? How could I have put Brad in that position? He was my ward, and I failed to protect him. I felt the bile rise in my throat and I vomited in the shower, puked my guts out, and just collapsed onto the floor of the shower with the water still running. The water got colder and colder, until finally I forced myself to turn it off and get out. I was shivering, freezing cold. I didn't care. I loved Brad, he is like the son I would never have. And he'd endured God knows what because I was too absorbed in my own life and my own world to pay attention to him, to watch out for him.

What about Armand? Isn't that the same thing? Didn't I just feed him to the wolves and let him fend for himself? I guess that was a little different. He was seventeen, old enough to understand his own sexuality and make decisions. But I should have at least been here to give him guidance. I threw on some clothes and wandered downstairs to eat something. I hoped that would calm my stomach.

Jason came into the kitchen looking happy and chipper, and got even happier when he saw me. Then he saw my expression and came over and gave me a hug. I was so pissed at myself for being weak, but I couldn't help it, I cried like a little girl while he held onto me.

“Stef, what's the matter? Are you OK?”

“I got here last night and found Josh molesting Jake,” I told him. He didn't look surprised. Did he know about this and let it go on?

He seemed to sense my mood change and my unspoken question, and answered it. “I had no idea that was going on. Things have been a little weird between them this week, but I just figured they'd had some little tiff. It wasn't really noticeable, but when you live with people, you figure out their habits.”

“I'm not blaming you Jason. I'm not even blaming myself for Jake's situation. But I left Brad alone with Josh this spring. And that I do blame myself for.”

“Brad is your nephew and he knows that. He'd never do anything to him.”

I wasn't convinced. Especially since Brad may very well have initiated something. That still didn't make it right. “Can you stick around and help Jake out when he gets up? When I fly back I'm taking him with me. He will be more comfortable at Escorial anyway.” Jason nodded and I grabbed my keys, keys to my car I'd hardly gotten to drive yet. The other guys had though. They'd put some serious miles on it. I smiled. It was a fun little machine.

The drive to Jackie's house was exhilarating with the top down and the wind in my hair. It helped to refresh me. “Unannounced again?” Jackie said, irritated, when I got there.

“I'm sorry. I had a rough night.”

“Join the crowd sweetie. Come on in,” she said, reluctantly accepting my presence.

“How's Armand?” I asked.

“He's good. Doing well. He has a talent for acting, but his accent will limit his roles. You can go up and see him if you want. Not sure if he's alone though.”

I smiled and headed up the stairs to find Armand's room. I opened the door quietly and snuck in, not wanting to wake him. He was in bed, snoring softly, snuggled up against Peter's chest. I giggled at that. His little ass was exposed. God he was gorgeous. I felt my dick starting to rise, my hormones kick in, and all of my worries seemed to fade into the background, surrendering to raw lust.

I quietly stripped off my clothes and moved up between Armand's legs until my mouth was near his ass. I dove in slowly, working his hole with my tongue. It tasted strange, different, and I realized that I was probably tasting some of Peter's semen, part of last night's load. I worked him and he was moaning like crazy. When he turned around to see who was eating his ass and saw me, he cried “Stefan!” and jumped into my arms. What a little cutie.

That woke up Peter, who look scared to death. “Hi Peter,” I said, and stroked his cock. “It’s good to see you.” He smiled. I fell into bed with them and had great sex, fantastic sex, but afterward I felt empty inside. Was it because I was upset about Josh, or because I missed Roger? Whatever the reason, this place was too fucked up for me to handle right now.

“How long are you in town for?” Armand asked.

“Just today,” I said, truncating my stay on the spot. “But I wanted to zip down here and see you and Peter, and fortunately I got to do it in one stop.” Peter smiled at me. We understood each other.

I spent a few hours with Armand and gave a very impressed Jackie the signed papers from Armand's parents.

“How did you get my father to sign them?” Armand asked.

How much to tell him? Well, if he was old enough to fuck all of Hollywood, he was old enough to know the truth. “He refused at first, but JP had hired a driver and a guide to take us out there and they were pretty rough guys. They beat the shit out of him.”

Armand laughed. “Serves the asshole right.” Still, I could see the trace of concern hidden in the background.

“I think we upset his household. The thugs gave your mom their number and told her if he ever tried to get violent again to call them.” Now Armand broke out laughing.

“That is great! He will be her slave for a change. I cannot wait to see that.”

“Are you thinking about going home for a visit?” I asked.

That threw him for a loop. He thought about it for a bit. “Not for a while.”

“Your mother had a message for you.” He looked at me, fully attentive. “She wanted you to know that she loves you, and she asked you to write.” He smiled and nodded. Was that a tear in his eye?

I'd done my duty there so I headed back to Malibu to get through business with Jason and get out of there. When I drove up to the house it was surrounded by police cars and an ambulance. I parked on the street and ran for the door.

“You can't go in there,” a cop yelled at me and grabbed my arm.

“Yes I can. It's my house.” And I broke free of his grip. I found Jason and Jake standing in the huge room overlooking the beach, looking sad.

Jason saw me and just nodded somberly. “Josh took an overdose of pills last night. I went up to check on him when he hadn't come down and it was already noon. He was dead when I found him.”

Tears filled my eyes. Josh was dead. I would have helped him, tried to help him beat this thing. But I hadn't told him that. I'd just condemned him and banished him to his own personal hell.

“Is this your house?” a cop said, approaching me.

“It is.”

“We need to ask you some questions,” he said.

He went through a barrage of questions, all designed to elicit some evil thing that I'd done and was stupid enough to let slip. “We may need to talk to you again,” he said malevolently.

“I will be back in the Bay Area in about three hours. You can contact me there.”

“You are certainly free to travel, but it would be better if you were here for at least a few days.” Now he was being nice, trying to spin his trap.

“I will see if I can adjust my schedule.”

“Good. And who's this?” he asked, pointing at Jake.

“He is my nephew.”

“Does he have identification?”

“He does not. He is only 13.” I stared at him defiantly. Jake looked very nervous.

“Hmmm,” the cop said. And then they all left. Jason and Jake were about to break into conversation but I ignored them and headed straight to the phone.

Three hours later I found myself at the airport, but not to go home. I had called Roger, and he had dropped everything and was rushing down to be here with me. I saw him walking through the gate and my heart leapt. I ran to him and fell into his arms. I noticed all the dirty looks and sneers from other passengers and realized I was making a scene. Even in LA it wasn't safe to be publicly gay.

“Thank you so much for coming,” I gushed as I led him to the car.

“You've got to be kidding me, right? I flew to Paris to try and get you back; I'd sure as hell fly to LA to help you out.”

“I love you,” I said.

He smiled. “I love you too.” We got to the car and he raised his eyebrows. “Nice car.”

“Thanks. It's fun.” I put the top down and motored up PCH, letting Roger take in the city and the views while I brought him up to speed on what had happened. When we got back to the house there was another car there, a Cadillac. A cop would not drive a Cadillac.

A man in a gray suit introduced himself as soon as I walked in. “Mr. Schluter?” I nodded. “I'm Jordan Spangler. Your cousin, JP Crampton, asked me to stop by today to see if I could be of assistance. I'm an attorney.” I laughed. Leave it to JP to jump in and help.

“It is nice to meet you Mr. Spangler. I'm afraid I may indeed need your help.” And that began a very long interview with Jason, Jake, and I, with Roger sitting next to me the whole time. He was a rock, my rock.

The attorney made frantic notes as we spoke, but his conclusion at the end was brief. “I see no problem for any of you except for Joaquin. And not for any heinous crime, but for being here illegally.”

“What can we do about that?” I asked.

“He can go back to Mexico. That's the safest thing for him to do.”

“What if he wants to stay here?”

“He's a minor, a runaway. I don't see how he could stay here legally.”

“What do you want to do?” I asked Jake.

“I left home because we had no money, and I was just another mouth to feed. I figured that since I spoke English, maybe I could support myself and send some money home.”

“If your parents could afford to have you at home, would you want to go back?” Roger asked, speaking for the first time.

“I think so.”

After that the discussion revolved around how to get Jake back home. Fortunately he lived not too far from the border.

Finally the attorney left, and Jason and Jake went off to their respective corners, leaving me alone with Roger.

“I like this place,” he said. I showed him around, showed him my bedroom, and then he showed me how much he loved me.

June 25, 1973

We crossed the border in the big blue Mercedes and as soon as we passed through immigration we were met by a Mexican official. Jordan had arranged for us to have a driver and a police escort, Federales, to help us avoid any entanglements with local cops. The driver took over from Roger and we just took in the sights. I'd never been to Mexico before, and it wasn't an uplifting experience.

It seemed that we passed through town after town, and the poverty was striking. I knew there were places that were much worse than Mexico, but I wasn't there, I was here, and it was sad to see. What amazed me most of all was that a young man of Jake's intellect, speaking perfect English, could spring from such an environment.

Jake got noticeably happier and excited as we got to his town, and positively giddy as we pulled up to the place where his parents lived. It was nothing more than a hovel, and he had six brothers and sisters. His parents stared out the door, nervous and scared. It's not every day Federales pull up with a big Mercedes. Jake rolled down the window and waved to them. “They might run away otherwise,” he said.

His parents ran to the car and hugged him. It was truly a heartwarming reunion. They may be poor, but he was much loved. My Spanish wasn't good enough to follow their staccato conversation, but I gathered it swayed from them being happy to have him back home to them being pissed that he left.

His father, a grizzled-looking farmer type, approached me cautiously. “Hello. No speak English,” he said.

“I speak a little Spanish, but you will have to speak slowly,” I said in that language. He grinned.

“Thank you for bringing my son back. We have been so worried, but we have no car, no money, so all we could do is pray. And God has brought him back to us.”

Their use of religion as the reason for all good that happens was pretty trite, but I didn't go down that philosophical road with him. Arguing about deities with Mexican peasants wasn't going to get me very far. “It is hard for us to return him to you. We have grown to love him too.”

The man nodded soberly. He invited us into his house, which consisted of three rooms and a dirt floor. Still, it was tidy and organized. Jake's mother hugged me again and again, and they thanked me repeatedly, and told me how lucky they were that God brought me here.

“I want to give you a gift,” I said.

“You have already given us a gift, the best gift. You have brought our son home.” His mother said this still with tears in her eyes.

“Jake has been very helpful, and has worked for me in LA. I'd like to leave you with the money he has earned.” I handed them a thick envelope with $10,000 dollars in it.

“Dios Mio,” his mother said and fainted. They revived her and they all repeated their thanks over and over again. We exchanged addresses. The Federales were getting impatient to leave, so it was time to say goodbye.

“Thank you for everything,” Jake said as he hugged us. Jason was the saddest to see him go. He'd gotten pretty attached to him. There were tears in his eyes as we drove off, heading back to the border.

“He's much better off there,” I told Jason.

“He is, but I'll miss him. Except for the past week, he's been great to have around.”

“Well, you will have to hire someone else to help you out. What do you plan to do about the broker/dealer?”

“I think I'd like to handle dealing with the clients and hire some people to do the administrative work,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow. Jason had been too insecure before, too introverted to do that. “That's pretty impressive.”

“Therapy has been helping,” he said, smiling.

“Yes it has.” That and sneaking off to bang Jackie, I thought.

June 28, 1973

I sat on the deck reading the paper, enjoying domestic bliss. My initial plan had been to rush back to the Bay Area, but with Roger here, I really didn't feel the huge pull to do that. Besides, he seemed to really be enjoying himself. The news was getting ugly about this Watergate scandal. John Dean started his testimony before the Senate Watergate Committee. He had shocked the nation by alleging that the President was directly involved in the scandal, and talked about the pressures and cover-ups that had been instituted to hide the truth. The President, for his part, denied everything, so at this point it was just people pointing fingers. And the economy sucked, and the market dived, and interest rates and inflation were soaring, and I was making a fortune.

Roger came out and kissed me affectionately. “You better get ready if we're going to make it to the studio.” We had plenty of time, he was just excited. I rolled my eyes and went up to get ready.

As I suspected, we were early. It was OK, though, because Jackie was already there.

“This is Roger,” I said introducing them.

“Well you're a looker in a rugged, Marlboro Man kind of way. I don't suppose you're straight?” she said with a repulsive leer.

“You could almost convince me to be,” he said to her, and shocked the shit out of me. I'd never seen him flirt before.

“I think someone would be jealous,” I said.

“That's the problem with you fags. Can't keep your mouths shut,” she said teasingly. A guide appeared and whisked Roger off.

“Your little protégé sure gets around,” she said.

“Oh yeah?”

“He's banged half the people in the industry. Little shit. People coming and going all the time, disrupting my household.”

“It is really nice of you to let him stay with you.”

“Nice? Bah. If I didn't supervise him, he'd be a mess. The drugs would get him. I keep him clean.”

“And for that I thank you. I lost someone to heroin once,” I said, remembering Jeff. She nodded. She had that look. She'd been there too.

“So you know what the latest strategy is for him?” I just looked at her. “They're going to turn him into a teen idol. Young handsome Frenchman. He'll be on the cover of Teen Beat in a month or two, you watch.”

“So he will have teenage girls going nuts over him,” I said, giggling.

“Yeah, and some gay guys too,” she joked. “So I'm watching him close to make sure the press doesn't find out he's a fag. Lucky for you you're family so you can still be around him.”

I was about to make some smart-ass comment but thought better about it. “That just means that half the actors in Hollywood are going to wish they were related to him. I will be the envy of the whole town.”

“With that hunk you brought in today, you probably already are.” After that we reverted to our normal mode, watching the filming and gossiping in between. Roger finally rejoined me after his tour and we left. On the way out I thought I saw John Bartlett but I avoided him. I just wasn't interested.

“What are you smiling about?” Roger asked.

“I'm just smiling because you're here with me and I'm happy.” I said, sounding idiotic. He was turning me into a teenage girl, the kind that will soon be chasing after Armand.

“I'm happy too,” he said. Then he got serious. “Um, if there are people you need to see while I'm down here, it's OK.”

“What are you saying?” He ignored me. “You're saying that if there's someone down here that I need to fuck, you're OK with that?”

“I understand you. I don't want to cramp your style.”

“So if I went off and fucked someone, what would you do?”

He thought about it. “Probably watch TV or jack off, or both.”

I couldn't believe this guy. He was almost too perfect. “Well, I do not have to go fuck anyone this trip, but if I do, I'm taking you with me. If you're up for that.”

He grinned. “That could work.”

“I think I'd rather just have you all to myself.”

We got home and headed straight to the bedroom, totally ignoring Jason. We stripped off our clothes and took a refreshing shower and he fucked me with abandon. I loved it. I loved him. Maybe too much.