The Higher Education of Matt Griffith By: Jack Chandler
Copyright 2024. All characters depicted in this story are fictional and are not meant to represent any actual person.
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Chapter 6: Truth or Bare (August 19, 1995)
Matt stood in the lobby of the Embassy Suites hotel, dwarfed by its cavernous atrium. It was 6 stories high, ringed by (he would later learn) over 200 suites. The ground level public area was edged in stone retaining walls planted with ferns and other tropicals. There were scattered benches and tables where the well-heeled guests could relax in the vast indoor space, sipping their cocktails, listening to music from a grand piano.
Matt was here for his interview with the Gay Mafia. He had known since his hookup with William that the interview would be today. What he had not known was the location and time. A note had arrived in his campus mailbox yesterday bearing only the name of this hotel and the cryptic "6:00 p.m. Lobby". Matt had dismissed the whole anonymous-note-in-mailbox bit as more of William's theatrical flair--wondering momentarily if the note was more James Bond, less Michael Corleone. Otherwise, he had given it no more thought--even during the long drive to the south side of Oklahoma City.
Until he walked into this atrium. Matt had never been in a hotel this fancy. He felt underdressed in his jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. He had assumed the hotel would be a dump considering that they were all just college kids with college kid incomes, i.e. zero. He had assumed dress would be casual since--college kids, again--and that whole bit that he had already been naked with the club president/Godmother. He had assumed a lot of things that were proving to be wrong. Maybe he was in over his head. Maybe he should just leave.
William sidled up beside Matt, seemingly appearing from thin air, more likely having been watching from behind a fern. William was dressed in business casual. Matt was surprised William hadn't gone for the tuxedoed look, which befitted both Bond and Corleone.
"Nice to see you," William said. His eyes smiled, but his mouth seemed drawn.
Matt's heart raced. His face flushed. This was the first time he had seen William since their hookup, since Matt had jizzed onto William's chest and face, since William had jizzed into Matt's ass (which still, Matt thought, made him walk "with a hitch in his giddyap" as they said in Oklahoma--not the jizz causing the giddyap hitch, but rather the whole rigid key in small keyhole bit). What exactly was the proper greeting when meeting someone with whom one had exchanged jizz? Handshake? Hug? Kissing was obviously out of the question considering this was a state where people still talked about hitches in giddyaps.
"Ready?" William asked. He motioned Matt towards an elevator, pushed the call button. While they were waiting, William reached out and discreetly touched Matt's arm. "It really is good to see you," he whispered. "I'm sorry if I seem a little distracted. Something happened that has me concerned. Don't worry. It doesn't involve you. At least not yet."
The elevator doors dinged open. They rode up to the fourth floor in silence, Matt's mind looping on that word "yet."
They walked along the atrium-facing corridor and stopped at #421. William ushered Matt into a suite with a living area and a separate bedroom. Matt was not surprised to see five guys seated in the living area. He had expected that, had expected two more based on William's statement that there were eight members of the club. What surprised Matt, what he found unnerving, was that these guys wore children's cartoon masks (the kind with a hard plastic face with holes for the wearer's eyes, nose, and mouth and a thin elastic band to hold the mask in place). The characters staring at Matt seemed to be of the Disney variety: a rodent (mouse or rat wasn't clear), a pirate, a princess, a lion, and a clown. Clowns creeped Matt out, always had with their leering smiles. This clown seemed to have chosen circus footwear as well: he wore bright blue high tops. On a positive note: these guys were dressed casually (three wore shorts), so there was that.
William motioned for Matt to sit in a chair facing the cartoon squad. Matt obeyed. He looked around nervously. This living area alone was bigger than any motel room he'd been in, and those had been crammed with two queen beds--one for his parents and one for him and his brother.
"Okay guys, this is Matt," William said. "Matt, I'd introduce you to the guys, but can't reveal names to non-members. So, if you need to address them, just refer to them by their respective character: Mouse, Pirate, Princess, Lion, or Clown. You already know my name." William paused for breath, then looked at Matt. "Ever play Truth or Dare?"
Matt nodded.
"Then you know the basic rules, although we call this game Truth or Bare'. The truth' part is the same. If you choose `bare', you must remove one item of clothing."
Matt couldn't help smiling. Leave it to the Gay Mafia to invent a game that involved nudity.
William held up his forefinger. "Rule #1: You can't choose truth' more than twice in a row. Third time must be bare'. Then you can pick two more `truths', if you want."
Matt nodded. The game didn't just involve nudity, it was rigged towards it.
"Second," William said, holding up his middle finger. "No asking the guys any question that might help you identify them."
"No problem," Matt said.
"Third." William held up his ring finger. "Each round will go like this: Mouse will go first, asking you Truth or Bare.' You make your choice, go from there. Then you get to ask Mouse Truth or Bare'. Then it will be Pirate's turn. Then Princess, et cetera. Got it?"
Matt gave a thumbs-up, which seemed appropriate given that William had three fingers in the air. Matt did quick calculations in his head. Each round, he would be called on six times and would have to remove a minimum of two articles of clothing, while each member of the Gay Mafia would only be called on once. There was no way this would end without his being starkers while everyone else would still be half dressed. Matt hoped that when it came William's turn, William would choose "truth". Matt already knew what he would ask him.
"Truth or Bare?" Mouse asked.
"Bare." Matt didn't wait to be prompted. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. This hotel intimidated him. These masks spooked him. Stripping in front of strangers? No problem. He'd been undressing in locker rooms since middle school.
Matt asked the same question of Mouse: "Truth or Bare?"
Mouse chose "truth", so Matt lobbed him a softball question, asking him what was his favorite TV show? "Friends."
It was Pirate's turn. Matt chose "truth".
"What is something you've done that you deeply regret?" Pirate asked.
Matt was surprised. He had expected a few easy warmup questions. Obviously, he regretted ever meeting the youth pastor. But he--Matt-- was the victim. He was done being shamed about that. Those memories triggered thoughts of something that Matt did regret, something he had never spoken of.
"You have to answer the question, dahling," William said. "That's how the game is played." His voice had a subtle edge, betraying the fact that part of him was still distracted by the news he had received earlier.
Matt sighed. "A few years ago," he said hesitantly, "we...my family... had to move to a new city...a new school. I was thirteen." He omitted the reason for the hasty move, that he had brought shame on the family. He paused, looking at the cartoon faces staring back at him. "There was this squirrelly kid in school named Spencer. Short. Skinny. Not just poor, but what my mom called `hardscrabble poor.'"
Matt's mind conjured Spencer as he had been, teeth too big for his small mouth. Brittle, dishwater gray hair. A runt of a kid trapped in the Thunderdome that was middle school, where violence stalked the halls, where blood sport lurked in the shadows.
Matt scratched his arm nervously. The room was so quiet, he could hear people's muffled voices from the corridor. Memories crowded Matt's mind, pulling him back to 1990--a year he did not like to revisit. "Spencer befriended me while everyone else sat on the sidelines, waiting to see what the popular kids would do."
Matt's eyes misted. He blinked back tears. "Spencer was the first, and last, person I told that I was gay. He was cool about it."
Matt's voice trailed off. He shivered. "Can I get a do-over and choose `bare' instead?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
William shook his head. So did the creepy clown in his creepy blue high tops. What self-respecting gay paired high tops with shorts? It was frustrating to Matt because the shoes kept catching his attention, drawing his gaze to Clown's gorgeously downy legs. Then, as Matt's gaze travelled up the body, he'd be jarred by that damn mask.
William coughed discreetly, signaling for Matt to continue.
"One day in the hall a couple of jocks started picking on Spencer, calling him a faggot," Matt said. "I had been talking with him, but I shrank back into the crowd." Matt could still remember his fear that the jocks might discern his gay guilt just by his association with Spencer, the presumed faggot.
"I stood by while the jocks shoved him around," Matt whispered. Just like the Apostle Peter had denied even knowing Jesus, Matt had acted like Spencer was nothing to him.
"I even joined in the laughter."
The cartoon squad stared back at Matt, their plastic smiles frozen in what felt like judgment. Finally, William broke the silence. "Thank you for sharing that, Matt. I do not mean to imply that your behavior was acceptable, but, I think I speak for all of us when I say that we know the brutal food chain of middle school. You are either predator or prey, most of the time both."
The cartoon squad all nodded.
William continued. "It took courage to share that story. To show our appreciation--or should I say solidarity--we will each remove our shirts now."
Matt watched this mini striptease, which at times was almost comical as the guys struggled to keep their masks in place. He appraised each guy's chest. Pirate's was the best: he had a lean build with sculpted pecs and stunning washboard abs. Lion was a bulkier kind of beautiful, with a boxer's body. Mouse and Princess were slim and boyish, their pecs undefined, their nipples small. Matt avoided looking at Clown. And he had already seen William's chest, which was the only one that could be described as hairy.
The game resumed. Matt chose "bare" twice in a row (in response to Princess and Lion) just to avoid another probing question. He set his shoes to the side one at a time.
Clown asked him "Truth or Bare?"
Matt chose `truth', and was asked what, if anything, he'd ever done with a girl?
"I went out with a couple of girls in high school--briefly," Matt said. "You know, trying to be straight. I took one to Prom. Physically, though, the most I ever did was kissing closed mouth."
Eventually, it was Matt's turn to ask William "Truth or Bare?" William chose "truth".
"How do you manage to survive at OC being so effeminate?" Matt asked. He had debated asking William what he had meant earlier in the atrium when he had told Matt that whatever it was that was troubling him didn't concern Matt--yet. That would be Matt's next question if he got the opportunity.
The cartoon squad lost their composure and laughed.
William waited for the room to quiet down. "I survive, dahling, because I am the court jester, the token queer they tolerate so that they can proclaim that they have a gay friend.' And even as the token, I must be a sanitized, G-rated' eunuch."
Until that moment Matt had been a little jealous that William got to be "out" at OC. Now he realized how lonely the role must be: considered everyone's friend but having no friends. Matt remembered how, a few minutes earlier, William and the cartoon squad had paid him respect by removing their shirts. Matt returned the gesture: he took off one sock and held it up for all to see.
The rest of the cartoon squad similarly removed articles of clothing. Clown caught Matt's attention despite Matt's coulrophobia. Clown had already been down to just his shorts and those blue high tops, having doffed his shirt earlier. Matt expected Clown to remove one of his shoes. Instead, the guy chose to shed his shorts--and, SURPRISE, he was apparently going commando! Clown sat naked with only his mask on his face and his high tops on his feet!
Matt felt a budding affinity for this weird tribe, his tribe if they would have him. He had assumed the game's nudity was sexual in nature--and given they were all gay, that had to be a factor. Now he realized another, subtler, factor: clothes made it easier to lie--to oneself and to others. Clothes masked the imperfections of nature, made people look taller or younger or slimmer. There was truth in nakedness. Wasn't it Jesus who said the truth would set you free?
Round two began with Matt's still wearing one sock, jeans, and underwear. He had to choose "bare" for Mouse's question since he had chosen "truth" twice in a row. Matt removed his remaining sock, tossed it onto the growing pile of his discarded clothing. He noticed now, bare feet against the carpet, how thick and plush it was. How could these guys afford a room like this when his dad, an officer in the Air Force, could not?
Next it was Pirate's turn. There was no way Matt was going to give that guy another shot at a soul-searing question, so he chose "bare" and removed his jeans.
Eventually it was Clown's turn. Matt was down to his boxer briefs. Clown asked him "Truth or Bare?" Matt chose "truth", avoiding eye contact.
"Why do you have that Dallas Cheerleaders poster in your room?" Clown asked.
Matt had asked himself the same question a day earlier. Why did he have that poster? Whatever baby step the poster had represented on his journey out of the closet was behind him and seemed silly now. "Actually, I threw that away yesterday," Matt said.
Clown looked at William. "I think I've heard enough. I'm ready to vote."
Shit! Matt felt panicky. Had he said something wrong? He remembered that Clown's earlier question had been about Matt's history with girls. Now this question about the poster. Did Clown think Matt was lying about being gay? That confirmed it: he HATED clowns!
William held up a hand. "I think Clown is right. We've heard enough to be able to vote on Matt's candidacy. Does anyone object to voting now?"
Matt wanted to object. He wanted the game to continue so he could convince them of his worthiness. They proceeded without consulting him.
"Everyone who thinks Matt should be admitted to the group stand up," William said.
Clown stood--blue high tops, sexy legs, and leering mask.
Matt sighed in relief.
Lion and Mouse stood as well, followed by Princess.
Pirate hesitated, but finally stood.
"It's unanimous then," William said. "Matt, welcome to the Mafia!"
The cartoon squad took off their masks and introduced themselves. Todd (Mouse), Evan (Pirate), Luke (Princess), Josh (Lion), and Jake (Clown). As they talked, they laughingly stripped out of their remaining clothes. Even William got naked. Jake retained his blue high tops.
Matt beamed. He had never been this excited to be welcomed to any group. He dropped trou and stood in his birthday suit.
William appraised him, smiling. "Glad to see you trimmed the hedges!"
Matt blushed.
"Okay ladies," William said. "Let's resume."
Everyone settled back into their seats.
William continued with a sly grin on his face. "Matt, our custom is to welcome new members with a special treat. You get to pick a sex act you'd like to engage in (stroking, sucking, topping, or bottoming) AND pick which member you'd like to do it with."
Matt was flummoxed, unsure how to process this information. Topping--finally getting to fuck a guy, getting to fit his rigid key inside a small keyhole--thrilled him. Picking his partner seemed freaky. (Eenie, meenie, miney, moe? Or short straw--smallest dick?) The fact was that Matt felt an emotional connection with William. He wanted to fuck William.
William, perhaps having sensed Matt's thoughts, shook his head. "I forgot to mention one rule, dahling," he said. "You can't choose your sponsor this time. That's me. In fact, no seconds with anyone in the club until you've hooked up, on some level, with the others. Our way of bonding. Sort of the club handshake."
Matt looked awkwardly at Todd, Evan, Luke, Josh, and Jake. They smiled back at him as if this were the most natural thing. And now Matt worried what the rest of the club members would be doing while he fucked one of them? Watching with their masks on? Rating his performance?