DANCING ON THE TUNDRA by Bert McKenzie Copyright 2010
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.
CHAPTER XVIII
"But she acts like even she doesn't know," Terry said in exasperation.
"Oh, believe me, Virgy knows," Paula replied lecherously. "We just decided that if we intended for the outside world to think I'm a man, then we have to think that way too. In fact, the only difference is the way we make love. And that's personal. It has nothing to do with the rest of the world."
Terry had spent several months in the tiny guest room, often keeping Virginia company when Paula went out on the road. The longer he stayed with his friends the more he thought he would grow to understand and accept them, but in fact the opposite turned out to be the case. He became more and more confused as time went on. He felt they were living a lie and he was being pulled in, being made a part of it. Paula's fears and the very real threat of rampant, unprotected discrimination, or even violence made a strong argument for living in the closet. But this situation was way beyond any closet. It was gender fuck taken to the point of fraud. And now the two women had actually set a date, planning a big Catholic wedding at the end of the month. As messed up as he thought his life had been in New York, it was nothing like this. He longed for the relative simplicity of dating a married man.
"Aren't you worried about getting caught? This has got to be illegal."
"Sure it's probably illegal," Paula answered. "But in most places being homosexual is illegal. Who are we hurting? Are we hurting each other? No. We love each other. Are we hurting our neighbors, friends, people I work with? No. They think this typical American couple who've been shacking up together are finally getting married and doing the right thing. Are we hurting the Church? I don't think so. Do you realize what St. Jonathan's is charging for this wedding? Terry, if you'd find a nice transvestite and settle down and do the same, you'd understand."
"No thanks," he replied. "If I wanted a woman I'd find a real one, and I'd be straight. I'll stick to guys, thank you. But going with that thought, if you want to be a guy so bad, why don't you do it. Can't they do sex change operations in Sweden or Switzerland or somewhere?"
"A transsexual? Not for me. Virgy loves me the way I am. She doesn't want a real man. She wants me." She had effectively used his own argument, turning it back on him. Terry had no choice but to agree and go along with the situation.
Meanwhile, as the time slowly passed, Terry tried unsuccessfully to break into show business. Paula introduced him to Margy Quartermain, the lady next door. She was a locally aspiring actress and had done some regional theatre, including a couple of shows at the Guthrie. She introduced Terry to several of her friends and everyone seemed very impressed that he had done an off-Broadway show in New York. But he still didn't seem to make any headway in getting a job locally. As time went on he began to feel uncomfortable, sponging off of his friends. Paula never seemed to mind, but he could detect subtle changes in Virginia. Every now and then she would let slip a thinly veiled hint about his finding a real job or moving into his own place. His money had long since run out so he was completely at the mercy of his friends.
Then, two days before the wedding Terry received a call. It was Collin phoning from New York. "So how are you? How have you been?"
"Fine," Terry replied. "You call long distance to ask me how I am? And how did you get this number anyway?"
"Your roommate, Wayne, gave it to me. No I didn't call for just that, but I do miss you and I wanted to . . ."
"I've got to go," Terry said quickly.
"Wait a second," the voice implored. "I'm supposed to be attending a convention in Dallas that starts tomorrow."
"So?"
"So, I thought maybe I could skip it and fly out to see you instead."
Terry's heart raced for a second. He had missed the tall, darkly dressed photographer. "I don't think that's a very good idea."
"Terry, I've got a lot to talk to you about. I've got a business proposition to discuss with you."
"Business?" Terry suddenly thought back to the night in the hotel room when the phoney casting director tried to buy sex. "I think you've got the wrong guy, but maybe if you called Marvin Williams he could find someone for you."
"This is serious. It has nothing to do with sex."
"Then what kind of business?" Now he was slightly intrigued.
"Give me your address. I'll see you in the morning." Terry finally complied and Collin hung up.
"What was that all about?" Paula asked. Terry had been talking on the living room phone and she had heard his side of the phone call.
"It looks like I'm going to have company tomorrow." Terry proceeded to relate the gist of the conversation.
"Great," Paula replied. "Now you'll have a date to our wedding reception. And at the very least you might get a good fuck out of the guy." She winked at him.
The next morning around ten a cab pulled up in front of the house and Collin climbed out dressed in a black three piece suit with a black shirt and black tie. He paid the driver, took his bags and walked up to the door. Terry answered it and let him in, noticing that he was carrying his suitcases. He apparently assumed he could stay with Terry. "Maybe I should have found a hotel room?" he asked noticing the look on Terry's face.
"Nonsense," Paula said, coming to the door to meet the new arrival. "There's always room for a friend of Terry's. You must be Collin. I'm Paul Brown. Welcome." She shook hands with the man and brought him into the living room. "Terry, take your friend's bags to the guest room. You don't mind sharing a double bed with Terry, do you Collin? Can I get you something to drink?" Terry watched in surprise as Paula guided Collin into the house and made him totally at home. There was nothing to do but pick up the suitcases and take them to what had been his bedroom for the last several months.
"So Terry tells me you're a photographer," Paula said, making polite conversation. "I wish I'd known you were coming. I'm getting married tomorrow. We could use a good photographer, someone we know. My girl picked some guy out of the yellow pages. God only knows what we'll get."
"Well, I do have my Nikon," Collin offered. "If you want, I could snap some extra shots, but I don't want to step on any toes if you've already hired someone."
Terry returned to find Paula and the new arrival getting on perfectly. "Great news," Paula said as he came into the room. "Your buddy's going to take some pictures at the wedding for us."
"Do you think maybe you could . . ." Terry began, giving Paula a pleading look.
"Oh, right. I guess you two love birds want to be alone. I've got to go do some shopping anyway. Enjoy yourselves. Just remember that Virgy will be back around four to pick up her things. She's spending the night with Cynthia. Can't let me see the bride before the wedding and all that crap." Paula grabbed her car keys and left.
"It sounds like we have several hours," Collin said with an easy smile. "Shall we get naked and do it on the dining room table?"
Terry glared at him. He didn't find the joke amusing. "You said you had a business proposition."
Collin stood and slipped off his jacket. "Your friend Wayne said you were staying with a couple of lesbians. Who's this Paul? He sounds straight to me."
"He's not a guy. Her real name is Paula," Terry replied.
"Go on. That's no woman. I can tell the difference." Collin smiled as if he thought he were the victim of a practical joke.
"I don't care if you believe me," Terry said, rising.
"Are you still mad at me?" Collin asked, taking a step toward him.
"There's nothing to be mad about," the blond man replied distantly as he stared at his former lover.
"Terry, I still love you." Collin had a slight catch in his voice as he spoke the words. Somehow this made the difference, convincing Terry of the truth to his statement.
"Collin," Terry began as he started to shake his head. Before he managed to get anything else out the photographer was holding him in a tight embrace, tears dampening Terry's collar. After a minute or two, Terry pushed him back. "Collin, I love you too, but I won't be hurt and used." He had tears in his own eyes in response to his lover.
"I would never hurt you," Collin protested, looking down into Terry's blue eyes. "Not intentionally."
"But it hurts me to have to share you with some woman I don't even know. It hurt me very much when I needed you in New York and you acted as if you hardly knew me."
"So you're saying for us to be together I have to leave her?"
It was Terry's turn to be uncomfortable now. He wanted the man desperately. "I'm not trying to break up your marriage," he replied. "I'm just saying I don't think I can handle this kind of relationship."
"Terry, even if I got a divorce we could never be totally open. Do you know what would happen to us if we walked through Central Park holding hands?"
"Now you sound just like Paula. This is 1975 for Christ's sake. We'd probably get mugged like any other couple walking through Central Park."
"The truth," Collin said as he sat on the overstuffed couch and began to remove his tie. "I love my wife's money. She's rich. She set me up in business and I'm afraid of what will happen if I leave her. She knows I don't love her. We haven't had sex in over two years, but we still pretend to be the perfect couple."
"Does she know you like guys?" Terry asked.
"I don't know. I don't think so. But I know she suspects me of having affairs. And I know she's slept with other men."
"How do you know?"
"She told me," Collin answered. He gazed up at Terry with a sad, lost look, like a puppy in a pet store window begging to be taken home.
"Come on. I'll show you to our room," Terry finally said, holding out his hand.
When they had finished making love Terry rolled over and sighed. He listened to the deep, steady breathing of the man beside him, who had obviously fallen asleep. Terry thought of what they had just done and smiled. It had been a long time since he had sex, not since leaving New York. And it was always good with Collin. The man was gentle, but could be passionate, evoking feelings, desires and physical pleasures Terry didn't know he could experience. The sex was really good. But he loved Collin for more than just sex. The man was fun to be with. Terry felt special whenever he was around. The only problem was the wife. If Collin wasn't married Terry was sure they could have a very happy life together. But the image of the woman he had met at the photography studio kept leaping to the forefront of his mind's eye. He could tell Collin wouldn't willingly leave her. The man was too weak to stand on his own. He had grown used to her money. But Collin's admissions about his marriage and his wife's other affairs did a lot to assuage Terry's concerns. He no longer felt like a home-wrecker, sneaking around and seducing the poor married man. Now he felt as if Collin really needed him. And after having spent nearly half a year with Paula and Viginia he was ready to move. He would be willing to return the New York with this man if he only had a job there.
"Collin . . . Collin, wake up," he said as he shook his sleeping lover.
"What . . . what's wrong?" the man asked as he stretched and tried to go back to sleep.
"You said something about a business proposition."
"Later," Collin protested sleepily and tried to bury his head under the pillow.
"No, tell me now. What about it?" The photographer mumbled a response but it was muffled by the pillow. Terry snatched it away and demanded he repeat himself.
"Okay," the man said wearily, slowly sitting up. "I thought maybe you could let me be your agent. I'm not a professional or anything, but I've done a lot of work for the right people and I have some connections. I could try sending your photos around and I might be able to get you something."
"Do you really think you could? You really think you can find me a job?"
"I can sure as hell do better than that sleaze you signed on with," Collin replied confidently.
"Oh," Terry said, a worry suddenly crossing his mind. "What about my contract with Bremen and Williams?"
"No problem," his friend answered. "You just have to use a different name so he can't touch you. Besides, if he tried you could sick the cops on him and his little ring of male prostitutes."
"Well I never much cared for Rock Michaels," Terry admitted.
"Hey, what's wrong with your own name?"
"Terry Michaelson?"
Collin had a pensive look. "Too long. It doesn't flow." He thought for a moment, then lit up with excitement. "What's wrong with Terry Michaels?"
"Great," Terry replied and gave Collin a hug. "I guess I've got a new agent. Now let's get dressed. We've got a wedding rehearsal to attend and I guess you're going to be taking pictures."
The wedding went off without a hitch. Terry did have quite a battle with his conscience when the priest asked if anyone knew any reason why the couple should not be joined in holy matrimony. But in the end he kept his mouth shut. After all, he believed that Paula and Virginia really loved each other, and so why shouldn't they have a chance to be happy and to have their relationship validated by the wedding ceremony. The only thing that continued to bother him was the question in his mind of the legal ramifications to the situation. If at some time in the future, anyone would find out that Paul was really Paula, what would happen? Could she be thrown in jail for fraud? After all, she had lied about her sex to obtain a marriage license. And Terry had gone along with this lie. That more or less made him an accomplice to her fraud.
Virginia had her whole family in attendance. They all apparently thought Paul was a very nice young man. Her mother and father were actually very relieved when Virginia began dating this young trucker. Before that they had worried that their daughter might actually be a lesbian. She had several brief affairs with women which they always did their best to discourage.
Of course Paula had no family at the ceremony. She told everyone that her parents were dead. Terry had a tense moment when one of Virginia's relatives asked him about Paula's family. "They live next door to my folks," he said, then quickly amended his statement. "I mean, they used to live there until they died. Now they're dead so they don't live there anymore. I guess they don't live anywhere anymore since they're dead. They died, you know." The lady who was talking with him looked at him strangely and quickly moved away, finding someone else to talk to. He felt really uncomfortable lying for Paula, but at least it was better than having to face the consequences if he told the truth.
Once the ceremony was over, everyone filed downstairs to the church basement where the reception was held. There was a lot of dancing and drinking and food. Collin kept busy snapping photos of the happy couple and their family and friends. Terry felt strangely out of place and tended to keep in the background until Virginia finally insisted that he dance with her. She was definitely out of place on the dance floor, but Terry used all his skill and expertise to make her look good. Afterwards Collin managed to snag him and they sat at a table to talk. "I'd sure like to have the next dance with you," the photographer said as he looked through his lens at Terry.
"I'm afraid we'd be a bit out of place here," Terry whispered back, covering his face with his hand.
Collin simply grinned, putting down his camera. "If your friends Virgy and Paula can . . ." Terry kicked him hard under the table to shut him up before anyone could possibly overhear them.
Finally the party began to wind down. Collin and Terry managed to hitch a ride over to the house with one of Virginia's sisters. They then quickly packed and were ready to go by the time the newlyweds arrived to change before leaving on their honeymoon.
"Well, I guess this is it," Terry said as he hugged Paula. They were standing in her front yard waiting for Virginia who was still changing. Paula had already switched back out of the black tux and into slacks and a sports coat, complete with white shirt and tie. She looked every inch the dapper gentleman waiting for his wife.
"Are you sure about what you're doing?" Paula asked. "Are you sure you want to go back to New York with him?" She nodded toward the house where Collin was packing up his photographic equipment.
"No, but is anybody ever really sure about anything?"
"Yes," his friend replied quickly. "Yes, sometimes. I'm sure about this."
About that time Virginia came out of the house wearing a smart red suit, jacket, skirt and frilly blouse. She ran to the car, tossing her makeup case in the back seat, then came back to give Terry a hug. "Now you be careful in the big city," she said as she kissed his cheek. "I've just gotten to know you. I don't want to read in the newspaper about you being murdered or anything."
"I'll be okay," Terry admitted. "You take care, too."
"Oh, I'll have my hands full taking care of this big lug, keeping him out of trouble." She tousled Paula's hair. Then they climbed into the Oldsmobile, waved and pulled away from the curb.
Terry turned around to see Collin standing a few feet behind him, snapping pictures of the retreating car. Once it was out of range Collin began to refocus on Terry, clicking the shutter. "What are you doing?" Terry asked.
"I gotta use up this film," Collin said innocently.
Back in New York Wayne threw a welcome home party for Terry. Just as he had always hoped for, Wayne held it on the roof of their building. Terry was a little uncomfortable because everyone who came to the party had to troop through the bathroom and his bedroom in order to reach the roof, the only access being the doorway beside his bed. It was an extremely warm, early spring so the outdoor event was a great idea. In a short time the roof was crowded with men, Wayne having invited every friend, acquaintance, and gay man he had ever met. "They're all yours for the picking, honey," he said as he leaned beside Terry on the low wall at the edge of the building and waved his hands magnanimously to the crowd.
"Thanks," Terry said, taking a sip of his drink. "But I think I'll stick with what I've got for a while."
"The married man?" Wayne rolled his eyes and shook his head. "And just what have you got?"
Terry was at a loss. He wanted to answer his friend, but he couldn't. What did he have? He had a married man who was really great, when he was around. The problem was, he quite frequently had to run home to Felicia, leaving Terry just when he was needed the most.
"Dance with me," a young, red headed boy, no more than nineteen or twenty asked as he came up and grabbed Terry by the hand.
"I don't . . ." Terry started to protest.
"Go on, have fun," Wayne encouraged, giving Terry a playful shove that sent him into the arms of the red head. "Don't worry about me. I can fend for myself. And speaking of fending . . ." Wayne suddenly let forth a whoop. "Girl, get over hear!" He dashed off to meet someone who had caught his attention.
"So how about it?" the young man asked as he kept his arms wrapped tightly around Terry's torso.
"How about what?"
"How about that dance? I know you can dance; I've seen you."
"Seen me? Where?" Terry asked as he allowed himself to be pulled toward where Wayne had set up the stereo speakers.
"'Six Months on the Floor with Spiders.' You were brilliant."
"You saw that?" Terry laughed. "I can't believe anyone would admit to paying to see that."
"I didn't pay. My uncle took me. He paid. But I sure remember you." The boy dropped his eyes to Terry's crotch and licked his lips. "But you don't remember me, do you?"
"No, I'm sorry. I don't usually remember people in the audience," Terry said as he and the boy began to move in rhythm to the loud disco beat coming from the speakers.
"I met you one other time in the Cavern," the red head said. "We went to the back room and I did this." The boy suddenly dropped to his knees and grabbed Terry's crotch.
"I remember," Terry said, jumping back and away from the young man. He suddenly remembered his one experience in a back room, and now he recognized the red head for the same man who had given him his first sexual experience in the big city.
The red head stood up and came close, wrapping his arms around Terry and resting his head on Terry's chest. "I'd sure like to do it again," he said. "Ever since I saw you dancing in that show, I've been thinking about you, thinking about how much I want to suck you again, or have you fuck me."
"Gee, I don't know," Terry said, feeling a nervous apprehension.
"Can't we go downstairs and use your bedroom?"
"No," Terry replied quickly. "No, my bedroom's the one at the foot of the stairs. You have to go through it to get up here."
"Well, what about your roommate?" the boy asked. "Doesn't he have a bedroom?"
"Yeah," Terry answered hesitantly. "But I don't know about this." He remembered what had occurred at the backroom. The young red head was really very good, and Terry would enjoy taking him to bed.
"Let's go," the man said, pulling him toward the roof door. They slipped down the stairs and through the apartment. As they did so, Terry witnessed two naked men screwing in his bed, totally oblivious to the people walking by. The bathroom was also occupied by a line of about five men waiting to use the toilet, on which sat an older, grey haired gentleman. Terry and his new friend stepped out of the bathroom, into the kitchen and Terry led him across the room to Wayne's bedroom. He looked nervously inside, afraid that he might find it occupied as well, but fortunately it was empty. Terry closed the door firmly behind them, then turned to his red headed companion.
The young man had already stripped off his sweater and shirt and was working on unfastening his pants. In a moment he stepped out of his underwear and climbed onto the bed. "Get naked and come join me," he ordered. The boy's body was beautiful, and Terry was definitely getting excited. He thought briefly of Collin, but Collin wasn't there. Collin was probably with his wife. Terry shrugged off the fleeting feelings of guilt, hastily stripped and climbed into bed with his attractive young friend.
"So where's Terry?" Collin asked when he finally found Wayne on the crowded roof.
"What are you doing here?" the black man asked the man in black. "I thought you had a date with the little woman."
Collin ignored the slam and asked again about his sometimes boyfriend. "I've got great news for him," the photographer beamed.
"You're either getting a divorce or moving to Alaska," the black man guessed.
"I've found him a job, a real professional job."
"Doing what?" Wayne asked suspiciously.
"He's a dancer. I got him a job dancing."
"Where?"
"Who's his agent here?" Collin asked, beginning to get miffed.
"You may think you're his agent, but I'm the boy's mother," Wayne retorted. "Now, where?"
"At the Chartreuse Parrot. It's a . . ."
"I know what it is. It's a drag show/strip joint. He ain't gonna like it."
"It's a professional job and it pays very well," the photographer defended. "It's dancing and it's in show business."
"Yeah, so's sweeping up elephant shit after the circus. Come on," Wayne said, grabbing Collin by the black sleeve of his cardigan sweater. "You're his agent. You might as well see him perform, only you ain't gonna like this show." The two of them went downstairs, through the bathroom, into the kitchen and up to the closed bedroom door. Wayne grabbed the knob, threw the door open, pushed Collin through and yelled, "Surprise!"