The Gay Ghost - 6. Chapter 6

We arrived at the park right after lunch. It was a sunny and peaceful afternoon. We walked North to a beach less frequented by gay people and found a nice, quiet grassy area under the shade of some robust trees. We proceeded to settle down.

I lay down on the towel, placed my hands behind my head, and closed my eyes -- at that very moment, the world stopped rotating. I faded for some time, I had no idea if I had gone to sleep or not -- it didn't really matter. I felt the peace I had been missing for so long. I opened my eyes and looked up to the cloud formations against the light blue sky of the early afternoon. I thought about the contrast of these cotton candy clouds to the stormy clouds in the "stolen" El Greco. 'It would have been nice to enjoy such a work of art for the weekend,' I thought.

"Not on my life, you told me," Paul answered.

"Eh?... Oh, Paul... I was day dreaming."

"You didn't have to..."

"I know... By the way," I sat up facing him. "I meant to ask you, when I said 'Not on you life.' You answered: 'Lives.' What did you mean by that?"

"That's why I am here, to teach you."

"Teach me what?"

"About your life."

"I may regret this; but, what about my life?"

"It's too short,"

"I can agree with that, I'm only twenty eight."

"I mean, all together, it's much too short."

"Huh?"

"You have a lot to learn, you know."

"Yeah, I know. And you're going to teach me, aren't you?"

"Exactly."

"Well...?"

"Mmm... How shall I put this?..."

"Try me."

"Okay. What you need to know will take many lives to learn."

"About how many?" I kidded him.

"It all depends..."

"On what?"

"How fast you learn."

I gave him a disapproving frown.

"I know, I know. You are a fast learner. Although, I still haven't seen that part of you." He whispered the second half of his statement.

"What's that?"

"I'm just saying that if you weren't such a stubborn person, you'd have learned your lesson by now and I'd be out of your hair."

"Consider me learned."

"I don't think so; but some day you will and I'll be gone..." Paul stopped in mid sentence.

I felt a certain sadness at the thought of Paul finishing his business with me and leaving. It was as if a part of me was missing already, a part of me I never knew existed. Suddenly, I felt lonely -- lonely and irritated at the same time for loosing control over my emotions.

He touched my chin and raise my head until our eyes met again. "I'm not leaving you." He said in a loving way. "What's there to know will take a lifetime to comprehend -- many lifetimes, to be precise." He came closer and hugged me.

I tried to smile. "I hope so." I said and thought about Paul being with me for the rest of my life.

He caressed my face. "Are you sure, my dear Charlie?" he asked.

"Sure? About what?..."

"You'd like me to stick around for the rest of your life?"

"Oh... I must admit, I've grown accustom to your quirkiness... And I... I have a lot to learn, haven't I?" I tried to change the conversation. Paul was getting too close to my true feeling, feelings I was not yet ready to accept for myself.

"At this pace," Paul moved back a foot or so. "You won't have any other choice. You'll be stuck with me for at least this lifetime."

"Let's get to work!" I exclaimed. "What's next on the agenda?"

Paul became pensive for a moment. "Tonight really is your night!" He jumped to his feet.

I rolled my eyes. "We're back in business, I gather."

He extended his hand trying to get me to move on.

"Okay, okay!" I took his hand to stand up. "I guess we're going out tonight, eh?'

"You bet your speedos we are."

"I just wanted to rest; but I guess that's out of the question."

"Yes it is. Get your things and let's go!"

 

We arrived home where I barely managed to have a sandwich for dinner. Paul was restless and in a hurry to get me out of the apartment: to the street, to the park, to a bar, any bar -- as long as it was a gay bar. He said that night was a very promising night and I should not spare a minute of it. He wanted me to find that someone as soon as possible.

I never made it to the bar.

'Look who's coming!' Paul pointed to a guy walking towards us.

'Who?' I barely had time to look ahead.

A man about 30 years old passed by and smiled at me.

'I don't know him.'

'You will.'

'Oh, no! Not again!'

'Stop!'

'What?'

'Stay here.'

'Why?'

'Look back... slowly.'

'For Christ sake! Paul.'

'He's handsome, isn't he?'

'Yeah. But...'

'Don't tell me you don't want him.'

'We haven't even got to the bar!'

'I told you this was a very good night.'

'I want a drink.'

'No! You'll goof it all up again. Be quiet! Look back...'

'Christ!'

'Stop mixing us up.'

'Fat chance.' I rolled my eyes.

We walked a few more steps.

'Look! He's smiling again... What are you waiting for? Turn around and go to him. Charles!'

'I gather he meets with your approval.'

'Definitely. He has good intentions, he has plenty of love to give, he's intelligent...'

'Stop that! I better find out by myself. Last time was a disaster!'

'It won't happen this time.'

'Why can't we wait until we...?'

'No!'

'Okay, okay! But promise you'll leave me alone.'

'I won't... interfere.'

I walked a few steps toward the man.

'Paul!'

'Yes?'

'Unless I call you...'

'Unless you call me you won't see me.'

'I... Okay... Wish me luck.'

'Luck.'

"Hello." I said.

"Hi. How are you today?"

"Fine."

"It's a nice day out here."

"Isn't it a beautiful evening?"

"I was going for a walk to the beach," he said. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

As we started walking we remained silent for a few minutes.

"Where were you going?" he asked me.

"I... was going to SideTrax."

"You seemed to be concentrating on something -- I didn't think you had seen me."

"I didn't... I mean, I guess... I felt you were looking at me."

"Yes, that has happened to me too. Anyway... My name is George Pasha."

"Charles, Charles Lanier." We shook hands.

We continued our stroll and talked about us, about the city, the Summer. He was a nice man whose feelings were not pretentious. His sincerity was greater than I was used to. I liked him even if his honest manner made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. 'Hm... too many one night stands,' I thought. I was enjoying his company and that simple fact made me feel uneasy.

We got to the beach as the sun was setting down behind the buildings across from Lake Shore Drive.

"I'm glad I had to work today, even though it's Saturday," he said.

"Why?"

"Otherwise I would have come to the beach this morning and I would have missed you."

I lowered my eyes and smiled. If I had been more willing to accept the unthinkable I would have had to admit that I blushed! It wasn't that I was not used to get flattering praise, but that I felt such a wonderful connection with this man, that any word sent my way in compliment would have produced a reaction of denial on my part as a way to maintain myself at ease. Accepting any amount of emotional attachment for him was accepting losing control of my will.

His kind words lingered like a dull ache in the back of my mind. My feelings didn't allow me to answer his compliments -- I remained silent.

"You are very handsome," he continued. "I really like you. As a matter of fact I would rather go some place where we can be by ourselves. I wish I could hold you in my arms right now."

I struggled to transform my thoughts into words: "I... I guess that... would be nice... "

I remembered the cute guy I had met at the bar last weekend, I realized at this moment what he must have gone through with me. I felt sorry for myself.

"I... I don't live very far from here." I have no idea how those words escaped out of my mouth.

"You... would not mind...?" George's voice vacillated -- not with the inflection of insecurity, but with the tone of excitement and anticipation.

"No... I guess... not." My vacillation was the complete opposite of his.

I was confused and excited at the same time. I didn't say a word all the way to my place. We arrived sooner than I expected.

"Come on in," I said.

"Nice place you have here."

The door slammed behind me. We both turned our heads toward it.

"Sorry," I said nervously.

He just smiled.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked.

"Yes, please. Straight whiskey."

"You too!"

A noise in the kitchen.

He looked in that direction, then at me. "Me... too?"

"Eh?... No... Yes! I drink straight whiskey, too. Yes." 'Paul. Are you here?'

No answer.

"Do you want me to help you?" George asked.

"Eh?"

"To fix the drinks."

"Oh! No... No. You make yourself comfortable. Sit down, please. I... I'll fix the drinks."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes!... Yes. Straight whiskey."

He looked confused. I WAS confused.

A book fell off the shelf.

We both turned at once. He looked at me one more time and went to pick up the book. I continued preparing the drinks while at the same time trying to void my mind of any thoughts.

"Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven." George read the cover of the book.

"Eh?... Oh, yes, I like Poe's poems."

"You must like this one story in particular."

"Which one?" I asked rather mindlessly.

"'The Fall Of The House Of Usher.' You have it marked with a red dot."

"No!... I mean, I did?"

He closed the book without making any comment, he placed it on my desk and went back to sit on the couch.

'Paul. Answer me! I know you are here,' I pleaded.

Silence.

"Are you okay?" George gave me a puzzled look.

"Eh?... Yes, I'm fine... Here's your drink." I tried to smile. "I hope it's not too strong."

"It's straight whiskey..." He took a big sip. "How strong...?" He couldn't finish his sentence, he started coughing incessantly.

"What's wrong?!" I jumped to help him if I could.

He continued to cough. His face turned red, the veins in his forehead and neck raised, his eyes filled with burning tears. He could hardly get enough air to cough some more. I ran to get him a glass of water which he refused to drink until he had attempted to smell its contents, he dipped a finger in it and then, cautiously, in between coughs, he tested it once, twice, as if trying to convince himself I wasn't poisoning him. I was baffled.

He was finally able to take a drink from the glass of water, then some more and more, and before he had finished the whole glass he motioned me to get him some more.

When he was finally able to breath enough to convince himself, and me, that he wasn't going to die, he looked at me -- tears still rolling copiously down his cheeks: "What... What's in this drink?!" He took another sip of water and cleared his throat. "What are you trying to do?!"

I looked at him perplexed. Cautiously I took a sip of his drink. "Christ!" I spit the liquid back into the glass. "This is vinegar!" I smelled and carefully tasted my own drink. "Jesus Christ! How did the vinegar get mixed with the whiskey?"

'Ha, ha, ha!'

'Paul' I heard his laugh and I understood immediately. 'What in the hell are you doing here?'

Silence.

"Cough! Cough! I... need some more water..." George handed me the empty glass.

I was distracted trying to pay attention to any signs from Paul.

"More..." Cough!... "water, please."

"Oh, yes! Let me get it... Sorry."

I hurried to the kitchen and came back -- all along while keeping a sharp sense for any extra noise or sound that would indicate Paul's presence.

None so far.

"Here you go." I handed George the glass which again he studied carefully before attempting to ingest the liquid. He smelled it first, then he sipped it very slowly.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"I am terribly sorry, George. I don't know how this could happen." I very well knew; but I wasn't about to tell him about Paul.

"I... I feel a little tired," he said.

"Don't talk, just relax." I tried to make him feel at ease.

"No... I think I better go home."

"But, George... Relax for a little while, you'll fell better soon."

"I'll see you some other day. Okay?" He coughed a little more.

"Won't you wait...?" I asked as he stood up.

"I don't feel very well, Charlie. I'm sorry but I think it's better if we see each other some other time."

I knew he was angry and he probably was thinking I was a freaky idiot.

"Okay." I resigned myself. "I don't blame you for leaving now. I just want you to know that I am sorry for what happened, and that I really like you..."

The lock on the door made a metallic sound as it turned to unlock itself. We both looked in that direction.

"I... I'll see you some other day." He hurried to the door, opened it and stepped out.

"Bye." I said. I didn't think he heard me -- he was already rushing down the stairs.

I closed the door and shouted:

"Paul!!"

Silence.

"Damn you, Paul! Where are you?! I'm calling you!"

"Here I am." He was by the window where only two weeks ago I had first seen his reflection.

"What in hell did you think you were doing?! Why did you do that for?!"

"I couldn't help it"

"You couldn't help it?! Is this another habit of yours?!"

"No. I... just did it."

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?! I thought you wanted me to meet him, to get closer to him! Did you change your mind? Did you decide that, after all, he didn't meet with your approval?!"

"No!"

"You didn't?... I thought you...!"

"Yes. I wanted you to meet him. But... Yes! I changed my mind!"

"Why?"

"I couldn't stand the thought that he was going to be intimate with you!"

"What?!"

"Don't you see?... I'm..." He stopped himself in mid-sentence.

"...You're what?" I asked impatiently.

"I'm... jealous!"

"Paul?..."

He looked down, a tear rolled down his cheek.

I felt a wave of compassion sweeping away the rage I had experienced up to this moment.

"Paul." I moved closer to him. "Paul... look at me." I touched his chin trying to raise his head tenderly. He looked at me for a moment and lowered his eyes again. In that brief glance I noticed the tears made his eyes look brighter and even more tender.

"Look at me," I repeated.

"I can't." He said sobbing.

"Baby, please... You seem so sad..."

"I love you." He said without hesitation.

"I... Love you, too." I was blinking back tears of surprise. And yet, I knew it was the right thing to say.

He came closer and kissed me. I felt a warmth coming from his lips and I hugged him. I needed him.

"I don't want to be with anyone but you," I surprised myself saying.

He hugged me and kissed me again, this time with a passion I had forgotten existed -- if I ever knew it was possible.

His hands, one on my back the other on my butt -- raising my feelings to an almost painful ecstacy. His skillful handling soon reached the fly of my pants, pulling the zipper down he made my body jolt with his touch. Before I could realize it I saw my shoes and trousers flying through the air and landing in the middle of the room. We tumbled to the floor, I was naked except for my shirt and underwear. The shirt soon joined the rest of my clothes. My underwear was now my only guard. He rubbed his hand against my crotch. He seemed to delay removing that last obstacle as if knowing the wait was only increasing this pleasant agony. His mouth -- I felt his warm lips pressed against my lips. His body gently but passionately pressed against mine.

We made love on the floor. I was moved into a state in which my mind was carried away from my body. My senses were suspended by the contemplation of the extraordinary being he was. Naked, body touching body, fire increased by fire. Pleasure never before so intoxicating, where real and unreal meet. And still no barriers to stop our ascent.

"Paul!" I screamed...

 

We rested side by side, in silence. I felt his breath and mine. I didn't want to let go of this cherished moment. I had it in my mind as a sweet memory of a feeling long ago forgotten, or in my case, like a feeling never before experienced. It was mine, he was mine, and my pleasure... I had no way to measure it.

He turned to me and placed his arm around my chest.

"Come with me," he said softly.

"Where?"

"With me."

"To the place you come from?"

"Yes."

"But... I am not...!"

"I am asking you to choose to come with me."

"Are you asking me to die?"

"Yes."

"I love you." I embraced him. "I want to come with you."

He stood up.

"Give me your hand," he reached out.

I touched him, and as I raised to my feet I felt light, very light.

We walked out of the room through the glass window panels. I looked back and saw myself, serenely, lying naked on the floor; a pile of clothes on the side.

Here I was, a visitor in my own life... a voyager into a new world.

I turned to Paul; he was wearing his white robe again. I looked at myself; I was wearing a similar garment.

I marveled at the lake below, I could see its massive esplanade of darkness all the way to the horizon. The streets, the buildings, the city became smaller and smaller, soon it was a dot in a surface tinted with the most amazing variety of colors. I looked ahead: darkness, darkness interrupted here and there by little multi-colored sparkles. I felt a happiness I never thought existed.

 

THE END