The Lord Won't Mind (The Peter & Charlie Trilogy) (37 page)

“I see. Are you with him, laddie?”

“Yes. Tim knows. The thing is, will you call him first thing in the morning? I might not be able to and anyway, he’ll ask a lot of questions I can’t answer yet. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I understand, laddie.”

“Tell him I may not be here tomorrow evening. He’s busy anyway. Tell him I’ll be back for sure the next day. What day’s that? Oh, God, Thursday. Tell him I’ll see him Thursday.”

“I will. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. Tell him I love him, will you? I do, you know.”

“Of course you do, laddie. Something like this was bound to turn up sooner or later. Try to keep your head screwed on the right way.”

“Yes. I’m going to have to. Thanks, Walter.”

“Good night, laddie. Call me if you need anything.”

Peter hung up and brushed tears from his eyes and squared his shoulders. He went to the door and called, “Come on, champ. We’re going to hit the road.”

CHARLIE lay slumped over on his side of the car where Peter had pushed him, asleep. Peter concentrated on driving. There had been the terrible moment when Charlie had settled serenely against his shoulder, and the heartbreaking moment when he had pushed him resolutely from him. Packing, picking up the car, getting through the city’s traffic had all been safe, impersonal occupations. Now Charlie was asleep. He hoped he stayed asleep. Sleep. That’s what they both needed. There had been enough for one day. Tomorrow everything would be different. Just think about driving. Don’t think about anything else. No.

When they reached Stamford, he woke Charlie up and drove around the deserted town until he found a policeman. He asked for the best hotel. It turned out to be an impressive establishment, and when they had aroused the personnel, Peter took two rooms.

“Wouldn’t it have been cheaper to take a double?” Charlie asked on the way to the elevator.

“It’s all the same. Coming in at this hour, it looks better this way.”

The rooms were across a hall from each other. Peter opened the bag in Charlie’s room and took out the things he had brought for him.

“OK,” he said briskly. “What you need is sleep. We’ll figure things out in the morning. How’s your—how does your cock feel?”

“It hurts. I’m supposed to change the bandage in the morning.”

“Well, get a good sleep. Good night.” He snapped the bag shut and picked it up and marched out of the room, without ever quite looking at Charlie.

He lay in bed, slowly relaxing. So far so good. See? Here I am alone, big boy, thinking about you. I know I don’t deserve any medals for being alone. There wasn’t much choice. But I’d have been alone, anyway. He thought of Charlie sleeping a few yards away, and a tender smile crept over his lips without his knowing it. He slept.

When he woke up, it took him a moment to figure out where he was. Then a singing filled his whole being that brought him leaping out of bed. He was with Charlie. It was a brief euphoric moment that had passed by the time he was on his feet. Had he dreamed it, or had the few little things Charlie had said meant that he expected them to be together again? Not that he had really known what he was saying; he had been half crazy with drink and exhaustion and terror. Peter wondered if he could seriously consider abandoning Tim. He wondered, too, where he would find the strength to reject Charlie. He was pretty sure that he was going to be faced with some enormous decisions. There wasn’t anybody around to help. He called down for breakfast and went into the bathroom. When he had eaten and dressed, he called Charlie.

“You awake? Good morning.”

“Same to you, baby. I just woke up. God, it’s wonderful. I mean our being here. Why don’t you come over?”

“No. You have breakfast and get dressed. I want to get the papers, just in case.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s a good idea.”

“How do you feel?”

“Much better. It hurts a lot less.”

“I’m glad. Listen, hotels give me the creeps. We’ve got things to talk about. Let’s drive out in the country somewhere. It looks like a marvelous day.”

“Wonderful. Just give me half an hour.”

“Right. Meet me downstairs. Hurry up.”

He put the phone down slowly. Another hurdle cleared. He was sure it was too soon for anything to be in the papers, if there was going to be anything, but he went down and picked them up anyway. When he had assured himself that he was right, he devoted himself to a study of the stock market. He was so absorbed in it that he was unprepared for Charlie. Something distracted his attention from the paper, he glanced up and saw him coming, and sprang to his feet to greet him. His knees almost gave way. He had never known what he looked at when he looked at Charlie: the face that was a little like looking into a mirror, the set of the neck and shoulders, the tapered torso, the way he moved, the long big-knuckled hands, the crotch. He took it in all at once before their eyes met. All the bleariness of the night before had gone from his face, and the agony that had marked his features. He looked fresh and confident and beautiful. They stood looking into each other’s eyes for a long moment. For Charlie, it was a moment of homecoming, warm and consoling. After the new and alien channels into which he had tried to steer his life, he sensed that he had found his true course again.

“Oh, God,” Peter whispered.

Charlie moved in beside him and took his arm and squeezed it.

“Come on.”

They went out like that, Charlie holding him close in public. The sweetness of it was almost more than he could bear. He couldn’t feel the ground under his feet, only the hand that gripped his arm.

“You want to drive?” he asked as they reached the car. He knew it was a mistake as soon as the contact was broken and he was getting in on the other side. He mustn’t let Charlie take control. He mustn’t revert to what he had been last summer, a silly helpless love-sick kid. He watched Charlie settle behind the wheel and felt doomed.

They drove out into the country, neither of them knowing where they were or where they were going. It was a brisk sunny day with a strong hint of spring in it. Peter breathed deeply and felt sanity returning.

“This is real country,” he said appreciatively. “Look. Stop. Turn in here.” It was a country lane that wound off from the main road through trees. Charlie turned into it, and they drove on slowly and came to a wooden bridge over a stream. Peter stopped them again.

“Let’s park here. I want to get out. I want to sit on that bridge. It reminds me of Virginia.”

Charlie did as he was told. They went and sat in the sun on the bridge, dangling their legs over the meandering stream. Peter resolutely pushed his happiness from him. “Now listen, I’ve been thinking,” he began, getting down to business. “It seems to me that what we’ve got to do right away is figure out how to get in touch with Hattie. I suppose you don’t have a lawyer? Well, I do, but I can’t ask him to handle this. I guess
I’ll
have to do it somehow. Hey, wait a minute. Isn’t she in a play? Aren’t you both supposed to be rehearsing a play?”

“I was until yesterday. I had a fight with the director, and he kicked me out. That’s part of the whole story.”

“Do you think you hit her hard enough so she won’t be able to work today?”

“Oh, God, baby. I’m afraid I did. It’s all such a nightmare. Last night and everything that’s happened since last fall—since—since the night I made you leave. I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know what I was thinking of. I’ve been such a damn fool. I say fool, but I mean much worse. Wicked. Cowardly. Selfish. Everything in the book. I’m not just saying it. I know it. Never again, God help me, never again.”

“What are you going to do? I mean, you’ve got to finish things with Hattie, of course. But then what? Are you going on in the theater?”

“Hell, no. That’s no life for us.”

Peter gripped the planks beneath him. His nails dug into them. “Us?”

“We’ve got to be together, baby. I’m nothing without you. You said it, but I wouldn’t listen. I need you, baby.”

“But you don’t understand,” Peter burst out. “I’ve got another guy. I love him, dammit.”

“You mean—”

“I don’t know what I mean.” The tears he had been struggling against since the night before welled up once more. Once more, he struggled against them, and this time he lost. They gushed from him. He clung to the planks of the bridge and arched his neck back and opened his mouth and gave vent to the torment within him. He felt Charlie’s arm around him. He felt his mouth on his hair. He was seized with a fit of trembling that shook him from head to foot. He bowed his head and choked and gasped. Slowly his body went slack as Charlie held him with both arms, pressing him close, spreading kisses through his hair.

“I’m a silly little faggot,” Peter gasped when he could speak. A little spurt of laughter burst from him. “What’ll people think?”

“I don’t care if the whole world sees. I love you.”

“Oh, God, why couldn’t this have happened two months ago? When we went to Harlem, would—could something have happened then?”

“I don’t know, baby. I was going crazy being with you again and then we got there and that colored guy kissed you and I saw how much at home you were with all those people. I guess I’d never really been jealous before in my life.”

Peter wiped his face with his hands and pulled himself straight. One of Charlie’s arms released him, but the other remained around his shoulders. He looked down into the moving water below. “I met Tim the next day.”

“Is that his name? He can’t have you, baby. I don’t care how rich and beautiful he is.” Charlie’s arm tightened around his shoulder.

“He isn’t rich.”

“I don’t know anything about any of it. All I know is, we belong to each other. You said so, and for always. I wouldn’t listen, but I must’ve known it all along, baby.”

“You call me that all the time.”

“You used to like it.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me. You’re tearing me apart. You always have.” He shook off Charlie’s arm and scrambled to his feet and stood, looking out along the stream. “I have a guy. I love him. I really do. I have a life. It’s good. No, it’s more than that. It’s exciting. It’s going somewhere. I can’t throw all that away. It would hurt too many people. And for what? So you can go on fighting me because you’re not queer? You’re having a bad time so you think you need me. What happens when it’s over? You won’t need me then. You won’t let yourself need anybody. You never have and you never will.”

Charlie circled his ankle with his hand and rested his head against the side of his knee. “Please, baby. I don’t mind your saying all the bad things I am. But don’t say things you know aren’t true. All right about the queer part. I’ve lied to myself and you. I’m as queer as a coot. I found that out with Hattie. I’m a silly faggot, just like you. Now that we’ve got that straight, what’s the next step? You know I need you. It isn’t just now. It was when I first saw you and year after next and always. You said it, and it’s true. Does Tim need you that way?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need him?”

“No,” Peter shouted to the fields and the stream. “No, goddamn me, I don’t.”

“And you don’t need me.”

“I’ve got by. For a while there, I never thought I’d make it, but I’ve survived.”

“Christ, if Hattie hadn’t done this to me, if we could be together and hold each other, there wouldn’t be any more questions.”

“What Hattie’s done at least makes us think for a change. Otherwise, I’d be in bed with you by now and then nobody would be making any sense.”

“All right. Will you answer one more question? I don’t want it to sound as if I were so damn sure of myself because God knows I’m not. Still, I can’t help seeing the way you look at me. Do you love him the way, you love me?”

“God, you really want it all, don’t you? All right. You must remember some of the things I said that memorable night last fall. I wasn’t just making it up. I fell in love with you. I fell in love with you with all of me, with my eyes and with what little sense I have, and my cock, and my goddamn ass, every silly ounce of me, inside and out. Do you think that happens twice? I was in love with you then and I’m in love with you now and it hurts. Christ, it hurts. I’ve done the most terrible thing I could ever do. I tried to be happy without you. I took advantage of somebody else to do it. I should’ve known better. I should’ve known if I couldn’t be with you, I couldn’t be with anybody. And I’ve been happy, dammit. I haven’t been reeling around in any goddamn state of bliss, but I’ve been happy, thanks to him. Do you think I can leave him after that?”

Charlie’s hand fell away from his ankle, and he hunched his shoulders and bowed his head. They didn’t speak for a long time, while the sun shone on them.

Finally, Charlie grunted and lifted his head. “No. I don’t know what to say. Talk about havoc. I’ve really done a good job of it, haven’t I? If this stream were deeper, I wouldn’t mind jumping in and floating away. I’ll clear out if you tell me to. Everything you say about what I’ve done is true, but I’m almost sure you’re wrong about one thing. I think we both could fall in love again.” Charlie paused and looked up. Peter met his eye and looked away and then squatted down on his haunches beside him. Charlie went on, “The thing we have is in us. It’s not something we spend like money until it’s all gone. It grows. If we don’t have each other, we’re both bound to find somebody we’ll want to give it to. You’ve got to see that. You see everything so clearly. The one thing we both must’ve learned is that it’s wrong to try to settle for substitutes. You’ve told me Tim is a substitute. Sooner or later, you’re bound to find somebody you’ll want to give it all to, the real thing. Is that fair to him? Wouldn’t it be better—leave me out of it—to break now when it’s still at the beginning than to go on letting him think it’s something solid? That’s the thing. There’s every reason for you not to want to have anything more to do with me. It wouldn’t be like that with somebody new.”