Chapter Nineteen

 

 

 

Raphael

 

The fragrant aroma of the freshly brewed coffee engulfs me as I make my breakfast and pack a lunch for my road trip. My thoughts are a jumble of worry over leaving the folks in someone else’s care. Although I trust my friends implicitly, I can’t help but feel guilty over abandoning Mama and Mr. Monroe. As I explain to them that I am going to Phoenix to spend the week with Kevin, Mama brightens considerably—her crooked, dimpled smile diminishing my guilt over leaving her. Mr. Monroe is another story. He listens to my explanation wearing his ever-present, vacant stare which has become his tragic window to the world. I kiss his temple and assure him that I’ll share his love with Kevin. I’d like to believe the quick blink of his eyes, at this particular moment, is his way of saying thank you.

My glum mood brightens immensely with Bluke’s arrival this morning, on time, as promised. His indigo hair is held back from his eyes by a head band, and the V-neck of his purple scrubs displays a trail of hickeys on his neck that weren’t present the night before. Either he met someone else after we left the restaurant, or he and Cassie hooked up for a little horizontal mambo. Deciding not to pursue my suspicions at this time, I dish out last minute instructions before boarding the SUV and hitting the highway.

The two-hour drive to Gallup passes quickly with the picturesque scenery at sunrise, reinforcing why I love this enchanted land. The sun reflecting on the red rock formations paints the vastness of the land in splendorous shades of vermillion, rust, and terracotta. Church Rock rising in the distance is nature’s reminder of Him who has gifted the beauty of this land for me to enjoy. With Mama’s long-silent voice echoing in my thoughts, I recite a quick prayer of thanks for my blessings.

The trouble with making long road trips alone is having too much time to think. From Gallup to Flagstaff, there’s nothing to break the monotony of miles and miles of hot, barren desert. My thoughts begin to wander to my upcoming reunion with Kevin and Robbie. After the last titillating communication, I’m conflicted about seeing them again. I’ll be staying in their small one-room apartment, which will provide little privacy. They’re a couple and I’m a treasured third wheel who has no interest in a ménage relationship. I’m certain the unavoidable intimacy will be uncomfortable for all of us.

My phone signals an incoming text as I’m about to leave the gas station and head south toward Phoenix.

 

Miss you already.

 

That’s sweet. How r u?

 

Lonely.

 

Only been 12 hrs since you kissed me goodnight.

 

Too long to go without tasting your lips.

 

Not too sure how to respond. Either Lee’s gotten too attached or he’s sexting me while I’m driving. Neither scenario is good.

 

Where r u?

 

Just left Flag.

 

Not what I meant.

 

Sorry, driving and txt no good.

 

OK TTYL:-* <3

 

Later.

 

Lee’s text unnerves me. I know I’ve told him about Kevin—that I love him. I’m pretty sure I’ve shared our belief that we will be together in the future. I guess when I get back, we need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart to ensure we’re on the same page. Lee’s texts have started me thinking about the future of our relationship. I don’t want to lose a friend because I don’t have many, and I count Lee as a good one. With my thoughts in turmoil, I almost miss my exit into Phoenix. I turn on my GPS and the mysterious lady with the annoying automaton voice begins calculating my route to Robbie and Kevin’s apartment.

 

* * * *

 

I locate the apartment when I spy my old Escort parked on the street. Fortunately, there is a small space behind the car, and after some precise parallel parking maneuvers, I’m here. I turn off the motor and settle my head against the headrest to psych myself up before going inside. I send off some quick texts to David, Cassie, Lee, and Bluke, letting them know I’ve arrived safely. Bluke assures me everything is going well and that Cassie’s coming over early to help with dinner. I don’t hear from Lee, but David responds with a smiley face.

A sharp rap on the window startles me. I turn toward the passenger window to see someone with a shock of bright red hair beneath a Diamondback ball-cap standing on the sidewalk. Beneath the cap is a pair of hazel eyes peering at me through the tinted glass of the SUV. Robbie’s big smile welcomes me to Phoenix as he comes around the vehicle to open my door. As I emerge from the car’s cabin, Robbie engulfs me in an exuberant embrace, complete with a kiss on the lips. Instinctively, I push him away from me, ever mindful that we’re standing on the street. Seeing the hurt in his eyes, I hasten to explain. “I’m sorry, Robbie, I’m not comfortable with PDAs. Someone might see us kissing and could hurt you, or me, or Kevin.”

“Sorry man. I guess I thought you were over being…shy. It’s good to see you. Kevin is so stoked. Let me get your bag and we’ll go in. It’s the third door to the right of the big cactus.” Robbie grabs my suitcase from the back of the vehicle, leaving me to follow in his wake. The feeling that I let him down persists even as I catch a glimpse of Kevin’s golden ass cheeks peeking out from the very short sequined mini skirt he’s wearing. Robbie snaps, “Layona, cover your ass before you offend your guest.”

Kevin is standing in the middle of the room with his back to us, dressed in unfamiliar drag regalia. Seeing us standing in the doorway, he runs to me, wraps his legs around my waist while I grasp his bare ass in order to support his weight, whereupon he covers my face with kisses, completely oblivious to Robbie’s chagrin.

“Raffle, I’m so glad you’re here. We’re going to have a blast. Aren’t we, Robbie? Tonight we’ll go to the club and watch while Robbie dances. Poor guy, he has to work tonight and tomorrow, but then we’re off for a week, so the three of us can just kick back and enjoy one another. I have tickets to a ball game for us, and on Friday night, we’ll go see Joan Jett perform at the Pride concert. It will be awesome, Raffle. You’ll love it. Won’t he, Robbie?”

“Yea, Layona, he will. I’m going to jet upstairs and see what time Joe and Snick are coming to the club. I’ll be back in a few.” Before either one of us can object, Robbie is out the door, and his footfalls can be heard as he bolts upstairs.

“What’s up with Robbie?” Kevin asks as he unwinds his legs from around me and acquires his balance on the four-inch stilettos he’s wearing. “I’m surprised he left in such a hurry. He’s been looking forward to your visit, and he’s usually not so rude. Did something happen?”

“I think I hurt his feelings when he greeted me outside. He kissed me, Kevin, on the lips. Right outside… On the street… Where anyone could see. I’m uncomfortable with PDAs, and I told him so. I didn’t think he would be so sensitive.”

“He’s really good about respecting people’s boundaries. After what happened on Christmas Eve, I’m sure he thought you didn’t have any boundaries. I’ll talk to him when he comes back down.”

“I’m a cornucopia of mixed signals, aren’t I? I’ll apologize to him later. But for now, what’s with the get up? This isn’t Barbra or Liza, and I know it’s not Cher.” I notice that his blond hair that has been highlighted with a couple of magenta streaks has grown into a golden veil lying just below his shoulders. The mini-dress is scooped below his collarbone and sports a peekaboo diamond cut in the front from his sternum to his pubes. The dress shows off his toned abs and leaves no doubt that he waxes his pubic hair. The stilettos make his legs appear impossibly long, and I wonder why his junk isn’t hanging below the dress’ hem.

“Meet Layona Beach, darling. Do you like? I’m introducing her on Milt’s float in the parade on Saturday. By the way, Milt said you can ride on the float with Robbie and me. My friend Logan will be there. He’s bringing a couple of the vets with him. They’re an awe-inspiring group of guys. We’ll have a great time. Robbie and I have to perform during the parade, but you and the other guys can be our groupies. Won’t that be cool? I’m really looking forward to the Pride weekend. It will be my first one. How come we never went to Pride at home? Hey, maybe we can come down in June, and then we can all go to Pride in Albuquerque. Wouldn’t that be awesome? I can see it now, you and me, Robbie, David…”

Kevin’s nonstop chatter is so reminiscent of the impish kid I first met that I feel a sting at the back of my eyes as I start to tear up over the loss of the exuberant child who would light up my day with his thousand-watt smile and endless jabber. Before Kevin can pick up on my mood, I blurt out, “What do you do with your junk when you’re wearing that dress?”

Kevin’s clear laughter and twinkling eyes make fun of me, but he answers, “It’s called a tuck and tape—just what it sounds like—tuck the balls away like they are when they’re cold and there’s shrinkage, and then tape my dick to hold it between my legs. I like to hold everything in place with a pair of spandex panties that match whatever dress I’m wearing.” He lifts his skirt and shows me the matching magenta panties.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” I resist the temptation to reach out and touch the flattened mound where there should be a nice bulge.

“Not once I learned to do it correctly. Besides, it has its perks,” he answers with a flirty wink.

“How so? Because I don’t see how there could be anything that would make cock-and-ball torture perky.”

“Well, you tell me what you think. Robbie shaves me, so I don’t miss any stray hair or cut myself. Letting him shave my most vulnerable areas is an experience unmatched in intimacy, trust, and sensuality, and when he’s done, I’m the eager recipient of a most erotically satisfying blow job.” Kevin pauses to look at me as I swallow and unconsciously lick my lips. With a wry smile he continues, “Let me tell you, there’s nothing better than a BJ on freshly shaved skin. The sensation is indescribably delicious. My tender bits are so extremely sensitive that everything is magnified ten-fold. When it’s time to remove the tape, I usually soak in a hot bath until the tape’s adhesive can be easily removed. Robbie does that for me too, making sure it doesn’t come off too quickly to irritate my skin. After he removes the tape, he soothes the sensitive areas with his tongue, lapping at my skin until either I fuck him, or he blows me. Like I said, perks. ”

After a lust-filled moan at the mental picture he has painted for me, I reply, “No wonder you wanted to be a drag queen. You were only looking for blow jobs.”

“If you remember, I wanted to become a drag queen before I knew about blow jobs. I was eleven when I first found Queens of the Night. Wanting blow jobs came much later. In fact, Robbie was my first, and you will be my last.” He punctuates his statement with a quick kiss to my wide open mouth, sliding his tongue in long enough to elicit a response from me. He backs away with a pretty pout and says, “Now, Layona is going to go soak so she can get this tape off. Ask Robbie to come into the bathroom unless you want to volunteer for the job. I promise, no BJ, whether it’s you or Robbie.”

“I’ll let him know when he gets back. Meanwhile I’m going to grab something to drink for myself—a beer if you have any.”

“Help yourself. I’m sure Robbie brought some home last night.”

Kevin disappears into the bathroom, and before long I hear him filling the tub. I sit on the sofa, and that’s when I notice the fold-out bed sitting in the corner of the room. I guess that’s where I’ll be sleeping. I pop open the beer and take a long soothing drink before setting the can down. I can hear Robbie as he comes bounding down the stairs and stops in front of our apartment. He takes a moment before opening the door and I wonder why he’s hesitating. I wince when I see the fake smile plastered on his face, and I ask if he will join me for a beer. He gets one from the fridge and takes a seat next to me on the sofa, curling his legs beneath him. We turn toward each other and simultaneously begin to apologize for the misunderstanding at my car.

“I’m sorry I misunderstood, Raphael. I thought you liked me. After Christmas Eve and the email, I figured that you would want to have a more physical relationship with us.”

“Robbie, I do like you. Sometimes I don’t like me very much. I’m still working on becoming more comfortable with being openly gay. I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings when I pushed you away. Please be patient with me.”

“I understand, I guess. I thought you had been open about your sexuality when you were at ASU. At least Kevin told me you frequented Bacchus when you lived here. The crowd that frequents that club is hardly shy.”

“I did, but I only ever went there with David. I wasn’t exactly out. I mean there were a lot of men there, and I was out on the dance floor with David, but we never went out on a date, nor were we seen anywhere else together except studying on campus. Once I went home to take care of Mama, I was back to hiding my sexuality.”

“I’m sorry—it must have been a painful time for you. For me, once I figured out I was gay, I never kept it to myself. I can’t imagine living a closeted life.”

“If it weren’t for Kevin, I would still be there hiding out. He has a way of getting you to see things his way—and not in a bad way. It’s like he’s able to read people, knows what will help them, and then gently pushes them along into the vision he has for them.”

“I know what you mean. If it weren’t for Kevin, I would still be living my life on the streets, or I’d be dead. I wasn’t in a good place when he found me.”

“I’m glad he was able to help you. He’s a good guy who always sees the best in people. Before I forget, he needs your help to remove the tape when he’s done with his soak. He asked me, but I think the task is a little too personal for me. I told him I would send you in. And one more thing, Robbie, I’m not here to get between you and Kevin. You and he are a couple—I understand that, and I accept it. I don’t want any misunderstandings. I’m not here looking for a threesome, and I won’t be putting myself into the role of creepy voyeur again. If you guys need private time, just tell me, and I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Thanks, I appreciate your consideration. Kevin and I have already made a pact to live a celibate life while you’re here. We don’t want to make you uncomfortable, nor are we interested in a ménage. Well, not that we’re not interested—we are, but there would be too much confusion and too many emotions, and the ramifications could be harmful to all of us. I’m glad we can talk so freely, Raphael. One more question?”

“What’s that, Robbie?

“Can I hug you now, please?”

I hold my arms out and accept his embrace. Our previous awkwardness melts in the comfort of understanding. Before we can begin to feel awkward, we hear Kevin calling out from the bathroom. Robbie gives me a quick peck on my cheek, then goes into the bathroom to assist Kevin. When they emerge, Kevin looks more like my Kevin except for the flamingo streaks in his hair.

After a late lunch of sandwiches, chips, and sodas, we go for a walk around the neighborhood. Robbie and Kevin hold hands, but when Kevin reaches for mine, I put it into my pocket, ostensibly searching for gum. Kevin shakes his head as he gives me a woeful look I read to mean, “I know what you’re doing, and I’m sad for you.” I shrug my shoulders in acknowledgment that he’s right. I’m pathetic.

When I spy a coffee shop nearby, I suggest we go in, and have something to drink to get out of the heat. Although it’s April, the temperatures are inching towards the nineties. A cool drink in an air-conditioned building sounds like a good idea to me. After finding an empty booth that provides a view of the street and the eclectic neighborhood, we order shakes and chili fries to tide us over until dinner at the club.

We’re chatting about Mama and Mr. Monroe when two mountains of human flesh, that could only be developed after long months in the gym and imbibing gallons of protein shakes, stroll up to us. If Hercules and Xena, the warrior princess, were to produce progeny, these two would be the result of the union, easily six-foot-six and with pecs and quads that strain the tensile strength of their threads. I begin to think we’re about to be gay-bashed at our table and rise in a futile attempt at protecting Kevin from harm. He tugs my arm as he tells me to sit down, and introduces me to Joe and Snick. I recognize the names as the people Robbie visited earlier today.

Each of the gargantuan men kisses Robbie and Kevin after lifting them off their feet to reach their lips. I’m about to receive the same treatment before I offer my hand for a friendly how-do-you-do. But instead of taking my hand, Joe grasps my shoulders and says, “I hear you’re visiting for Pride Week. Well, Raphael Delgado, give me some sugar, and show us the pride.” I look to Kevin for help, and he gives me that you-better-do-as-he-says look. I lean forward intending to bestow a friendly peck on his bearded cheek when he shifts and captures my mouth in a full lip-lock worthy of a ten on the Richter scale of kisses. Before I can catch my breath, I’m literally handed over to Snick and receive the Full Monty.

“Welcome back to Phoenix, Raphael,” they greet in unison as I stare with my mouth open and buzzing from their kisses. “Kevin hasn’t been able to stop talking about you, and let me warn you, it wasn’t all bad,” Snick, well he snickers, and understanding dawns as to why he’s called Snick. The rest of the group has a good, hearty laugh at my expense, and with my ears burning, I join them.

“Joe and Snick, whose real name is Penrose, own Joe Muscle, the gym at the end of the block. We met them a couple of months ago when we began working out. Lucky for us, they moved in upstairs last month to be closer to work. As you can see, they spend lots of time on the job,” Kevin explains while I’m still trying to figure out why Snick’s mother named him Penrose.

“Those are some pretty impressive muscles, guys. I suppose you met at the gym.”

Snick snickers, again. “No, we’ve known each other since grade school—played on the same football team from Pop Horner through college. We then decided not to go pro, although there was some interest.”

“Why not? With your muscle mass and height, you would have been a shoe in.”

“There were a few reasons. The main ones being we didn’t want to be thirty-five years old with the bodies of a septuagenarian, and we’re a gay couple—with the emphasis on couple. The NFL is notorious for their homophobia, which we could probably have lived with, but there were no guarantees that we would be drafted to the same team or if we were, we could still be traded to different teams.”

Joe adds, “The possibility that we could be separated outweighed all other considerations. Our commitment to each other can’t be swayed by money. Now we’re putting our degrees to good use. I majored in business and Snick’s working towards his master’s as an athletic trainer.” After taking Snick’s hand in his then tugging on his beard until Snick kisses him, Joe says. “We’ll be getting married as soon as Arizona joins the twenty-first century and legalizes same-sex marriage. Until then, we do what we can for the cause. We’re both looking forward to Pride week. Wait until you see Kevin and Robbie perform. We’ve watched them on senior day at the club, and they are mesmerizing.”

While I digest the incredulity of giving up a pro football career for love, I ask, “How do you get away with going on senior day? You’re obviously not even thirty.” I chance a glimpse at Kevin and wonder if he’s measuring my selfishness against their commitment. If so, I’m sure there’s no comparison.

“Really? Do you see us? People don’t usually say no to us.” Joe answers and Snick shrugs his massive shoulders.

Robbie and Kevin begin reciting, “Besides, more people means more thirst, and more thirst means more drinks, and more drinks means more money, and…”

“More money means a happy Milly!” everyone shouts out before breaking out in laughter. I’m obviously not in on the joke.

“We gotta bounce. We’ll see you tonight. Don’t worry, Raphael. No more kisses—I wouldn’t want your ears to self-combust.” Guess who snickers?

 

* * * *

 

Kevin and I walk into Queens, Twinks and Drinks a little after eight o’clock. Kevin greets Milt and makes introductions. The big bushy eyebrows hide his warm brown eyes as he grasps my hand in his meaty palm and welcomes me. “You’re a looker, Raphael. Not pretty like Kevin and Robbie—more mysterious and sultry like a harem boy. Do you need a job? You would make a lot of people very thirsty with your dark looks and soulful eyes.”

“Don’t let him con you, Raffle. Milt equates thirst with money. Although, I have to agree, you’ve grown into a gorgeous, desirable man.”

Even as I feel my ears turning red, I thank Milt for the offer, letting him know I’m only here for a week.

“That’s too bad. Kevin tells me you’ll be riding the float on Saturday. It’s going to be a good one.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Thanks for the opportunity.” With a nod of his head, Milt left us to our table and returned to the bar.

Before long the lights dim, the music swells and the two cages at each end of the bar are occupied by a pair of men writhing and humping each other in time to the music. It took me a minute to pick out Robbie, and when I did, my cock began to swell. He may as well have been dancing nude as his so-called costume enhances his equipment in all the right ways. His skin is oiled and glistens as the lights serve to bathe him in iridescent decadence. When he turns his back to the crowd, he shakes his bare ass in double time to the music, enticing the audience to hoot and holler for more. I see the crowd venturing toward his cage and realize there is a tip can affixed to the bars, and he’s raking it in. Looking at Kevin, it’s easy to read the pride on his face as he admires Robbie.

While we sit and people watch, Kevin is approached several times to dance. He politely refuses, and explains to me that he has to stay at our table since he can only be in the dining area. When I’m approached, I’m about to refuse when Kevin steps in and encourages me to enjoy myself. I haven’t been dancing since I left ASU, and I miss it. Reluctantly, I accept the offer, and soon I’m on the floor shaking and gyrating as if I were born to dance. When I refuse several attempts at luring me into a lascivious bump and grind, my partner rudely deserts me on the floor.

Before I can make my way back to Kevin, someone grasps my upper arm in a very large hand and spins me around. I’m staring at a bare, extremely masculine chest sporting gold nipple rings that sparkle under the lights. When I look up, Joe smiles and leads me into the next dance by holding my hips and swaying to the music. I’ve barely gotten over the surprise of Joe before there is another set of hands on my hips and another bare body against my back swaying in time with us. Joe leans over my shoulder and Snick—he has to be Snick—leans forward as the two meld together in a heated kiss, leaving me squeezed between heat and muscle, and making me the middle of a supersized, man sandwich. As the music plays, they continue kissing and it’s not long before their erections are introducing themselves to me. Thankfully the music ends and the lights go up, signaling last call.

“Thank you for the dance, Raphael,” Joe whispers before sucking on that sensitive spot behind my ear until I groan.

“You move like a wanton angel,” Snick comments before leaving.

When I return to the table, Robbie and Kevin are seated there waiting for me. The heat glowing in Kevin’s eyes sends a zing of electricity up my spine. Robbie’s all-knowing smile fans the embers of my unrest as we leave for the apartment.

 

* * * *

 

We spend the next day on Mill Street behaving like the tourists, taking selfies on our phones, visiting shops, and people-watching. Kevin and Robbie, hands clasped together, show me where they were playing when David met them. They are constantly touching—totally unaware of the derisive looks tossed their way from passersby. Before Kevin can take my hand, I put it into my pocket, unmindful that I look like a dork, playing with myself as we walk through the streets. Kevin sees me and sadly shakes his head. He knows that I’m avoiding his touch. I can’t help it. I’m still not comfortable with something as simple as holding a man’s hand in public.

Eventually, we stop for lunch at the same coffee shop that my companions and David visited all those months ago. We spend the afternoon catching up on the last four months. Although I had seen Kevin briefly when he came into town to refill the freezer, he and Robbie spent most of the time cooking and had little time to visit. I was preoccupied with Lee and thought it was best not to have a repeat of Christmas Eve. So we really hadn’t spent much quality time together since their Christmas visit.

After our time on Mill Street, we go to the Diamondback game. Attending a ball game always takes me back to the first game Kevin and I went to. For it was there that I first became aware of my sexuality, when Number Eighteen winked at me, setting off a maelstrom of emotions with which I’m still trying to come to grips. I’m very impressed with my first visit to Chase Field. It’s just Kevin and me since Robbie has to work tonight. Of course, I can’t help noticing the huge screen where Robbie and Kevin’s kiss was broadcast live around the nation. The easy camaraderie between Kevin and me resurfaces as we share our mutual passion for the game and for muscular men in uniforms playing with balls.

“I’ve missed this, Kevin.” He looks at me questioningly, so I clarify. “Going to ball games with you—I’ve missed the easy friendship we had.”

“Me too, Raffle. Me too.” He gives my hand a squeeze, smiling at me when I let him. Touch is important to Kevin, and being able to touch me publicly is especially so. I’m working hard, trying to tear down my walls, adobe by adobe.

After the game, we go back to the apartment. I shower and crawl into my portable bed, punching the pillow into a semblance of comfort while Kevin showers. I hear Robbie come in and proceed to the shower. In spite of their vow of celibacy and the sounds of running water, the lustful moans coming from behind the closed door cannot be camouflaged. Feeling my own cock hardening, I bury my head beneath the pillow to drown out the sounds. I refuse to jerk off to their arousing sounds of ecstasy.

 

* * * *

 

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.” I groan at the sound of too much happiness and the too-bright light, blinking my eyes against the intruders—the morning sun and Robbie. “We thought we would go and see Avatar this afternoon before it leaves the theaters. Have you seen it?”

“No, I don’t have much time to enjoy a movie. What time does it start, and what about the concert?” I ask, sitting up and grasping the mug of hot coffee Robbie’s offering.

“Kevin says the two o’clock showing will work. The movie’s almost three hours long, and afterward we can grab a bite to eat before heading to the park for the festivities.”

“Sound’s good. Where’s Kevin?”

“He’s gone out to find you a suitable shirt to wear for tonight. No plain T-shirts for you. Tonight you are strutting your stuff—out loud and proud.”

“Oh God, tell me he’s not going to bedazzle me.”

“Wait and see, my friend. Wait and see.” Robbie’s delighted chuckle makes me nervous as we wait for Kevin’s return with my Gay-Pride-appropriate attire.

When he returns and shows me what he bought, I realize that my worry was for naught. My shirt is a conservative, khaki-colored T-shirt stating simply, “Closets are for clothes.” Beneath the statement is a rainbow-hued bar code. The shirts he selected for himself and Robbie are splashed with colorful rainbow happy faces. Robbie and Kevin decide to wear their shirts to the movie and to the concert. I opt to save mine for tomorrow’s ride on Milt’s float.

After the movie we make our way to the park for the concert. The lines are long and the venue is filled with an assortment of people wearing their pride colors with no regrets. There are scantily dressed twinks, muscle-clad bears, colorful queens, assorted lesbians, PFLAG members and regular straight folks there to enjoy the evening and the blast-from-the-past music of Joan Jett. Seeing the crowd joyfully partaking in the activities fills me with shame for my long-held unwillingness to leave my closet and proclaim my queerness. It’s no wonder Kevin is sad for me. Seeing the joy on so many gay faces makes me sad for myself.

The sun setting and the quieting of the crowd signal the beginning of the show. When Joan Jett steps on stage, the crowd goes wild, cheering and yelling. Once the music starts, there is an endless cacophony of stomping feet, clapping hands and shaking booties. When Joe and Snick find us in the crowd, the night is complete as we enjoy the show, the company and our unfettered love for each other.

When Kevin wraps his arm around my neck and pulls me in for a quick kiss, I lean against him, savoring his presence, for once unmindful of the crowd surrounding us. Robbie has his arm around Kevin’s back and leans his head on his shoulder, blissfully enjoying the stage performers and unmindful of Kevin’s attentions. Joe and Snick are making out, oblivious to all going on around them. As I look around the park, there are many small tableaus of love and harmony, igniting a spark of hope within my heart that maybe I’ve been wrong—maybe I can be openly gay. Perhaps I can fit in after all. For now, I am content to be part of this small group where I can be myself.

The morning dawns with an excited Kevin preening in front of the mirror as he puts on his Layona Beach persona. I’m kicking back on the sofa, being entertained watching Robbie help him with his tuck and tape. Who knew I would have latent voyeur tendencies? The little show stirs up a mixture of emotions in me. There’s jealousy when I watch Robbie touch Kevin so intimately—there’s lust when I watch Robbie touch Kevin so intimately. There’s self-consciousness when I watch Robbie touch Kevin so intimately. Are you starting to see a pattern here? Then there is sympathy pain when I watch Robbie placing the tape that holds everything in place. I have to stop myself from placing my hands over my own cock in sympathy. Kevin catches me and chuckles at my grimace.

He dresses himself next in the short magenta-sequined dress, after carefully applying his makeup. He uses the kit I gave him for Christmas, and the results are stunning. His gamin face has been transformed into a blue-eyed seductress totally masking the beautiful man beneath the cosmetics. After his hair is styled and sprayed, he applies some additional sparkle to the pink streaks, puts on his stilettos and his look is complete.

Robbie insists on lining my eyes to give them some additional pop, and he gels my hair into a semblance of the latest style. I’m wearing my new shirt, which is two sizes too small and hugs me like a wetsuit. Joe and Snick arrive, decked out in their parade duds. They’re wearing Andrew Christian wrestling singlets which display their large muscular bodies to perfection. In the singlets, it’s easy to see that they are well proportioned all over. Their large cocks are proudly displayed despite the fabric covering. Robbie too has chosen to wear the AC briefs that he uses for the club. When everyone poses for pictures before we leave, I am in awe of the striking portrait of pulchritude that Kevin and Robbie make.

When we arrive at the parking lot where we’re to meet Milt, I’m impressed by the multitude of people who have turned out for the parade in various stages of dress, undress, and colors. There are also many corporate floats and groups marching—some from the larger national corporations. Nearby I see Smirnoff, Macy’s, some banks, a phone company or two, and an airline company. And there are also many different organizations, not all of them gay, marching in support of the cause. Beyond the organized group, there are hundreds upon hundreds of people waiting impatiently for the parade to start. The atmosphere is electric, as everyone wants to strut their stuff and show their pride.

We all take our place on Milt’s float which advertises Queens, Twinks, and Drinks on the side in bold rainbow-colored letters. I wonder how Layona is going to remain standing once the vehicle begins to move. To my surprise and relief, there is a belt that is put around her waist and she is anchored to the float to ensure her safety. Once the Grand Marshall of the parade is seated in the open-air car, the parade is ready to roll. I’m seated on a bar stool in front of a makeshift bar, complete with go-go boys. Snick and Joe are on my right and Milt’s seated to the left of me. Robbie and Layona stand on a makeshift stage at the opposite end of the float, and music drifts through the speakers. Once we’re rolling, Layona begins to sing. Her voice ascending through the speakers quiets the crowds as they and I listen in awe to her magnificent rendition of Defying Gravity. The song had recently become a gay anthem for equality and acceptance, and Layona’s voice leaves me spellbound. The thunderous applause from the crowds makes my heart swell with pride for her accomplishments.

Along the parade route, there are supporters cheering for the marchers—a touching show of solidarity for a community fighting for acceptance and equality. Little by little I can feel the tether of suppression loosening. I’m relaxing and enjoying the company of Joe, Snick, and Milt when I can hear the ugly sound of gay haters shouting on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, the float has to stop rolling because the marchers in front of us have stopped moving.

The shouts of ‘filthy fags’, ‘devil’s abominations’, ‘God hates gays’ all coalesce into a caterwauling of hate and discord. When I hear Layona’s distinct voice above the hateful noise, I begin to sing and clap along with Robbie and the go-go boys. Queen’s Somebody to Love spills from the speakers, along with Layona’s voice. Soon there is a mini flash mob surrounding the float, all singing and clapping to the chorus of the song, silencing the haters long enough for us to move on. The parade is two hours long and after the haters’ harassment, the rest of the route is a joyful celebration of our differences.

After the parade, we all go to the venue at the park where there are drinks, food, merriment, and an assortment of people intent on having a good time. One thing about the haters—they won’t spend the money for the entry fee, so we are among friends. Isn’t that the way it always goes? Hate is free, but there is a price for freedom.

Kevin and Robbie introduce me to their friends from the VA center. Logan is there, along with a group of veterans who support the cause. Some of the shirts sport the American flag with rainbow stripes. Another one reads ‘I think he’s gay’ and has an arrow pointing towards the guy’s crotch. Snick and I both snicker at that one. Another big-chested guy’s shirt proudly displays ‘Fagtastic’ across his chest. After a couple of hours, it’s time for Kevin and Robbie to perform on stage. The park is crowded, but we manage to get seats up front. Their set lasts thirty minutes and consists mostly of the songs from their Wednesday senior night performances. When the crowd begins to shout out for Defying Gravity, Kevin turns toward the event planner, who gives the okay to continue. After several more songs, including a couple from Queen, Kevin closes with the much-requested song bringing the crowd to its feet. Again I feel my pride for him overtake me and wish Mama were here to witness her Mi mi mo’s triumph.

After Kevin and Robbie’s amazing performance, both during the parade and on stage, they are approached by a scout looking for talent for a new club opening in Vegas. Apparently, the guy is very intrigued with Kevin’s Layona Beach and especially impressed by his voice. Robbie and Kevin discuss the pros and cons of moving, and I’m pleased that Kevin includes me in the conversation.

“What do you think, Raffle?”

“I think you’ll be fantastic in whatever direction you take your career. This is a culmination of your dreams. You’ll entertain, you’ll be admired for your beauty, you’ll have the attention you crave, and you will absolutely wow them.”

“But I won’t have everything I’ve dreamed of having. I won’t have you, Raffle.”

“You’ll have me as much as you do now. You’re happy now—you’ll be happier when your dreams of performing in drag for an appreciative audience are realized. You have me as much as you can, mi corazón. You know, this week was great, and I learned some things about myself. I can live outside of the closet and I can fit in, but I’m a work in progress. I need time to become comfortable living openly. I wish love was enough. But, I’m wise enough to know that it’s not.”

“God, I’m going to miss you. You mean so much to me and to Robbie. I love you, Raffle. I love you so much.”

“And I love you.” I clasp him to me in a fierce hug, unwilling to let him see the tears filling my eyes. “Now go with Robbie and live your dreams. I’ll say goodbye to you in the morning.”

I watch with a measure of satisfaction as he walks away to join Robbie in conversation with the Las Vegas dream maker. I can’t help it—my chest swells with pride that I may have had a small part in Kevin’s success today. I gave him his coveted book, Queens of the Night, one Christmas when he was twelve. The book was the catalyst for him to pursue drag. I still treasure the memory of his look of wonder as he accepted the gift.

“This is perfect, and it means the world to me. This gift is much more than just a book. Your gift tells me that you see me.”

Yes, I saw a young, beautiful boy who was unafraid to be who he is, destined to become the drag queen he dreamed of, and today I selfishly take a small bit of pride in the modest part that I played in his attaining his dreams. The beatific smile on his face, as he looks over at me across the crowd, rivals the brilliance of the fireworks going off above our heads. It’s been a perfect night—one I will hold close to my heart for a long time to come.

 

* * * *

 

In the morning we say our tearful goodbyes, complete with kisses and hugs and promises to keep in touch. I am ready to get on the road—I have been away from my responsibilities for too long. With one last wave out of the window, I depart for home.

Now my time driving is spent thinking about the things I have learned about myself during this trip. I’m more comfortable in my own skin. It doesn’t feel like it’s too tight for me, always trying to contain my emotions and my desires. Oh, I’ll be cautious because that’s who I am, but I’ll never again be so arrogant to think that I know best. I nearly lost Kevin’s love and respect when I put him in the closet for what I deemed was his own good. I am blessed that he found his way out on his own and was able to forgive me.

Kevin has coaxed me—no, prodded me—no, bludgeoned me—no, begged me to accept my sexuality and take pride in my differences. More than once he’s proclaimed that until I can stand by his side, proud, happy and at peace with who we are, we can’t be together. He showed me this week that living his life transparently has not brought him the gloom and doom I expected. He is happy, he is confident and he is loved. I finally understand—on the long drive across the New Mexico high desert—that I want those things too. I’m tired of hiding and pretending. The closet I have hidden in all these years is becoming smaller and smaller—or perhaps I’m growing. Strong and proud, I’m ready to take the next step.

I’m looking forward to going home—for once, eager to spend time with my ever-widening circle of gay friends. I want to explore my relationship with Lee, I want to get my degree, I want to get a job, and I want to take care of the folks. I’m finally free to do all these things with pride.

Through the years, Kevin and I have shared baseball, heartache and hope, but they were always wrapped in love. Love for the game, love for my Mama, and love for each other. I blame it on baseball. With Pride Week approaching in June, I’m ready to shout, “I’m here and I’m queer, get over it!” Well, maybe more like, “I’m here and I’m queer, get over it—please?”