The Gay Ghost - 4. Chapter 4

We arrived to the bar when it was getting crowded and I didn't stop to think before we got there that I would have the same problem here as in a restaurant. And Paul, he had to have a drink, too.

"Gin and tonic," I ordered.

'And a straight whiskey.'

'What?'

'A straight whiskey!'

'But you...' "A straight whiskey too. Please." I knew I had lost the argument.

'Don't worry. You just have to leave my glass there, next to yours.'

'How are you going to..?'

'Don't worry! I know how. You just look around and let me concentrate on their thoughts.'

'Good grief!'

After two hours, three drinks, and several what's-this-fellow-doing-with-two-drinks-and-no-partner looks, not to mention three guys I liked but they-were-not-right-for-me type of guys, and vice-versa.

'That one!' Paul said, thought.

'Where?'

'Over there, sitting at that table, the second from the entrance door. Light brown hair, brown eyes. He'll be 27 on August 19, and he's all by himself. He has already noticed you.'

'He isn't even looking this way.'

'But he did. And he liked what he saw. His soul is very clear, neat. You can't let him go, Charlie, he's very gentle and good-hearted. He's a little shy, but once he gets to know somebody he becomes quite interesting. He likes films and classical music. He reads Shakespeare and Dante, yet Don Quixote is the book he likes best. Don't talk to him about television. And if he happens to mention Washington, D.C., you must speak nicely about our Nation's Capital -- he was born there; but he hates talking about politics. And religion...'

'Wait, wait, wait!... I didn't say I wanted to meet him.'

'But you like him...!'

'No!... Well... Yes, but...'

'No buts allowed -- except his. Don't you see? He likes you too! Don't you see what you will be missing? C'mon. Go talk to him. He won't come to you, he's too shy to take the initiative.'

'I... I don't know.'

'What else is there to know? You like him, he likes you. He's a very good guy.'

'Okay, okay... But... What are you going to do? Will you come along?'

'No. I will stay right here until... I'll watch that everything is working okay, and then I'll go away.'

'Away?'

'Yes. You will not need me. Will you?'

'Well... No, but...'

'Remember, if you need me just call my name.'

'Okay... I... Okay, I'll go over to him.'

'Good luck... see you tomorrow.'

I didn't answer back, I just looked at him. I felt a bit confused because, somehow, I knew I was going to see Paul again before the night was over.

I walked over to my future date. I had one advantage over him: I already knew half his life story.

"Hi." I said.

"Hi."

"Are you waiting for someone?" I knew the answer.

"No."

"May I sit down?"

"Yes, please... Yes." He was shy alright.

"Ehh... My name is Charlie Lanier." I stretched my hand to him.

"I'm Michael, Michael Stroff."

"Nice meeting you, Mike." I shook his hand. "Can I call you Mike?"

"Yes, sure."

"Do you... Do you come here often?"

"Once in a while... Do you?"

"Not often. Once in a while, too."

We remained silent for an eternal moment.

"I was... I was watching you from over there." I pointed toward the bar.

"Really?"

"Yes. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

He blushed, lowered his eyes and half smiled.

"I saw you, too," he managed to say.

I knew that. "Did you, really?"

"You're very handsome." He looked down as if he had said something he shouldn't have. He blushed again.

"Thank you. I think you're good looking, too, and you seem like a nice guy -- that's why I decided to approach you."

He just smiled and we both remained silent for a good period of time.

I had to talk about something and I knew he liked books.

"Do you enjoy reading?" I finally asked.

"Yes... Do you?" He sounded excited.

"Very much. Don Quixote is my favorite book," I lied.

"Mine too!"

"That's good. We have something in common."

"Yes."

"Do you like Shakespeare?" I tried to sound sincere.

"I've read most of his work."

"I enjoy his plays, too... very much," I lied again.

Silence.

Impossible to keep a conversation. How much longer before he knew me enough to get that tongue loose?

'Paul!'

'Don't be so impatient! Give him some time!'

'How much longer?'

'Talk to him about Washington, D.C.'

'I've never been to Washington'

'I have!'

"Are you from Chicago?"

"No, I'm from Washington, D.C."

"I've been there. I spent... last Summer there."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes. It's so... patriotic." 'Paaaul!' I whined in my thoughts.

'You visited the national monuments!'

'But...'

'You did!'

"I went to all the national monuments."

"Did you tour the White House?"

"Ehh...?"

'Yes!'

"... Yes!"

"What did you think about it?"

"It's... all white..." 'Oh, God.'

'You liked the portraits of the presidents.'

"I liked the portraits of the presidents."

"Did you? I haven't been there in years."

"Good! I mean... You'll get to see many new additions when you go back. No?"

"I guess."

More silence.

'Paul. This isn't working.'

'Give him a chance.'

'I don't know what else to say.'

'Ask him where he lives.'

'No!'

'Yes!'

"Do you live around here?"

"A few blocks to the West."

'Ask him to go to your place.'

'No.'

'To his place.'

'No.'

'Yes!'

"Do you want... another drink?"

'Charles!'

'I can't!'

"Yes. I think I'll have another drink."

"What are you drinking?"

"Tom Collins."

"Waiter!... A Tom Collins and a gin and tonic, please." 'I don't suppose you want a whiskey, do you?'

'I've had enough'

"Good."

'Quiet!'

"Pardon?" Mike gave me a puzzled look.

"Ehh... Good... we've... had such a nice weather... lately. Don't you think?"

"Yes, nice weather out there."

'Charlie, Charlie.' Paul shook his head.

'Sorry.' "Do you enjoy the warm season?"

"Very much. I like going to the beach."

"Me too. One gets to see so many..."

'Don't say that!'

"...beautiful men."

Michael lowered his head and looked down.

'I told you.'

'What's wrong with that?'

'Tell him he's good looking.'

'I already did.'

'Tell him again!'

'He'll blush.'

'Tell him!'

"You are very good looking. You know?"

He raised his head to look at me.

"Thank you," he smiled. "Would... Would you like to come to... to my apartment?" He took a deep breath in relief.

'He said it!'

'No. Paul!'

'Yes!'

"Yes... I... Here come the drinks."

'Charles!'

'I can't!' "How much is it?"

"Three dollars. One, fifty each."

'You pay.'

'He has money.'

'You have my one hundred dollars!'

"This time the drinks are on me, Mike."

"Thank You."

'After this drink you go home with him.'

'No.'

'Yes, Charlie. Stop all this nonsense, he's not going to bite you!'

'He wouldn't dare... I won't go.'

'You're behaving like child.'

'I can't go.'

'Charles! My blood is boiling!'

"Ha, ha!"

"What are you laughing about?" Michael looked at me puzzled.

'I'm leaving,' Paul said exasperated.

'Paul! Wait!' "Oh! Nothing. Something I remembered." 'Paul!'

'I'm going home.' Paul said heading for the exit door.

"I'm sorry Mike, I... I think... I'm afraid I have to go now." 'Wait!' I stood up readying myself to follow Paul. "I'll see you... next Sunday!"

"But...?"

"Next Sunday. Okay? I'll try to be here."

"I... "

"Bye!"

I rushed to catch up with Paul. 'Paul, wait for me!' I almost shouted aloud.

'Shame on you!'

'I'm sorry.'

'How could you do that?'

'I... '

'You what?!'

'I... knew it wouldn't work.'

'You didn't want it to work!'

'I'm sorry.'

'He was a very nice, cute, intelligent, young man! What else did you want from him?'

'I couldn't...'

'You could! But you didn't want to. You can't do anything that requires the smallest effort from your skinny head, can you?'

'Ha, ha!' I placed my hand over my mouth to conceal my laugh -- not that it made that much difference.

'You laugh! You didn't care whether you hurt him or not.'

'I'm sorry. I know it was wrong. But...'

'But what?!'

'Stop it, Paul! You're trying to force me into something I am not able to...!'

'You have to try!'

"A cigarette to spare?" A drunk man asked.

"Goddamnit! I don't have...!"

"Ey! Man! Who do you think you...?" The stranger didn't finished his sentence, he grabbed me by the collar.

"Paul!" I shouted.

'I'll take care of him.' Paul punched him in the face. 'RUN!'

I did. And I didn't stop until I was several blocks away.

'What... what happened?' I stopped to gasp for air. 'What was that?... Paul?!'

'Here I am.'

'What happened?'I leaned against a parked car. Panting.

'Didn't you hear him?'

'Who? What?!'

'He asked you for a cigarette.'

'He did?'

'Yes.' Paul smiled.

'It's not funny.' I rested my hands on my knees and lowered my head. 'It's all your fault!'

'I know, I am sorry. You got me all stirred up and I didn't pay attention to anything around us.'

'Christ! I think I'm going to get sick.' The whole street was turning around.

'We are not that far from home. Lets go and get you in bed.'

'I can't... I'm... I'm sick. I'm going to...!'

'That's alright. I'll cover for you... Good. That's it... You'll feel better...'

The next thing I remembered I was walking into the apartment, Paul was by my side, holding me by the arm. Then, I was in bed. My body felt heavy -- the room was turning around.

"Paul?" I couldn't open my eyes.

"I'm here." He sat on the bed and stroked my forehead.

"Don't go," I pleaded.

"I won't."

"Please stay."

"I will."

"Don't go..." I started to lose consciousness.

"I won't, baby. Just relax," he said tenderly. "I'm sorry... I should have been more careful. We should have left..."

"No! Stay here."

"I will, I will. Try to sleep. Get some rest."

"Will you... stay with me all night?"

"Yes, don't worry. I won't go anywhere."

"Help me!"

"Baby, don't be afraid. Don't think of anything and try to get some sleep."

"Hug me."

He did and I went to sleep.