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"Yeah, right. Well, if I run like a chicken, you took off like a crazed, I don't know, wild boar or some other safari animal."
"Hey, I got us out of there, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did." Oth.e.l.lo dropped his playful protest. "And for that, I'll be eternally grateful." With a genuine smile, he gazed into Raider's eyes, noticing the man from Nantucket's cheeks turning a pale shade of red. The moment just a bit too honest, they both turned away and each let out a shy chortle, followed by silence, this time minus the awkwardness.
"What would the world think," Raider arched his head toward the moon, "if it knew Oth.e.l.lo danced like a s.e.x machine but ran like a chicken?"
"What would the world think if it knew Oth.e.l.lo was a practicing h.o.m.o?" Oth.e.l.lo said somberly.
"I'm still having a hard time with it myself, to be honest."
Oth.e.l.lo nodded to the city lights below. "At least once a day, I wish the whole world knew which gender I was really singing about. I wish I could make my videos with gay men like me, making love or just living life. I wish I could be a bigger gay rights activist than Madonna, only openly gay and proud as h.e.l.l. I'd tell the public: This is what I am, take it or leave it. And I'd do it all through my music. I'd be butch sometimes and other times, I'd be as queeny as they come. I'd be masculine and feminine like I really am inside."
"You don't want to do that," warned Raider.
"Why not?"
"That's why people have such a hard time accepting gays now. The ones that act all girlish give it a bad name. Or some of the ones in ACTNOW, with all the nose rings and colored hair or chaps with no b.u.t.tsa""
"Raider," Oth.e.l.lo began bitterly, "the world is going to have to accept all of us, not just the straight acting mainstream middle cla.s.s types. Whether you're a drag queen or a macho ex-college athlete, we're all fighting for the same thing: the right to be ourselves."
"Fine then," Raider said sourly. "Come out and fight for all of them. You've got enough money and power."
"I wish I could just snap my fingers, call a press conference, and do just that."
"What's stopping you?" Raider asked, his tone still irascible.
The mere idea made Oth.e.l.lo so nervous his breath froze in his lungs. "The same thing that keeps a lot of people in the closet: fear. Only I got so much to fear I tremble just thinking about it. And now, after today, the police might be looking for someone of Joe's description."
Oth.e.l.lo was shaking so much, if he were a girl, Raider would have gotten up and held onto him to calm him down. "I'm sorry, Oth.e.l.lo. I didn't mean to upset you. And anyway, n.o.body in Simi Valley is going to trace a vague description of an old black man back to you. On the radio, they said some witnesses thought he was just trying to get away from the chaos like everybody else. Things were way too hectic for the police to have anything to go on." The theory didn't seem to help. Oth.e.l.lo remained silent. "Maybe we should talk about something else," Raider offered. "Better still, maybe I should just leave."
"Don't do that." Oth.e.l.lo quickly banished the panic attack and rejoined Raider on the bench. "Why don't we give the politics a rest. Besides, Sweeney is cooking up some of his special turkey burgers for us and I'm sure it won't be much longer. In the meantime, we could take a swima"the pool's heated."
"Forgot to pack my suit," Raider said as an out.
"I don't think anyone's going to arrest you up here for going in your skivvies, or even skinny dipping, if you'd like."
"Ia"I don't think so."
"Then how about the Jacuzzi? After the day we hada""
"Oth.e.l.lo, no." Raider put a firm hand up between them.
"I could put on some music, this whole terrace is equipped witha""
Raider let out a terse breath. "You're just like the old man. Lecherous."
"I don't mean to be presumptuous. I'm not even suggesting we hop into bed tonighta""
"Gooda""
"It's just thata"I'm not sure how this is going to come out, buta"what I mean isa"I like you, Raider. Very much. And I'd like to get to know you. And I'm not sure how you feel now that you know who I am, but you did say you were attracted to Oth.e.l.lo when you thought you were talking to an old man. So I was hoping we could, I don't know...." he broke off, unable to find the words.
Raider smiled, part nervous, part flattered, part trapped. Just his luck he had to go and say Oth.e.l.lo was hot. But also just his luck he and Oth.e.l.lo were hitting if off so well. "The thing is, Oth.e.l.lo, we just met and all, truly meta"the real you and mea"and I don't know either. I meana"Ia"I...."
"You don't want to have s.e.x right off the bat?"
Raider paused, thinking: that could work. "Yes, that's it exactly."
"You're looking for a lover?"
Pause again. "Well, eventually." Then he quickly added: "But also the old-fashioned way. I like to get to know a person real well. Real real well. I mean, really well."
Oth.e.l.lo's face brightened. "Me, too, Raider; that's exactly what I want. I've had it with sport nookie. I've had it with being lonely, too. Especially...." He stopped himself. Yes, the virus might present itself as a major issue between them, but there just had to be a way. "Especially since I'm not getting any younger. The point is, Raider Kincaide of Nantucket Island, I like you a whole lot and if you like me, maybe we can see where that takes us."
Raider clasped his hands in front of him, grateful he'd staved off Oth.e.l.lo's advances, at least for tonight. "Sounds like a plan," he said affably, and they shared a relaxed, easy smile, Raider feeling less threatened, Oth.e.l.lo feeling more hopeful.
"This sure has been a day of highs and lows," Oth.e.l.lo said. "Now, if I can just turn the lows into something good."
"How?"
The frustration of the day coming back to him, Oth.e.l.lo didn't answer.
"How you gonna do that?" Raider prodded.
Oth.e.l.lo's face lit up with an idea. "Come back East with me and find out," he said baitingly. "You need to lay low with ACTNOW after today anyway."
Raider tried to fake a smile but only half succeeded. "You don't give up do you?"
"Do you want me to?"
Raider thought about that one for a second. Oth.e.l.lo giving up meant shutting Raider out, which meant not getting to the bottom of Oth.e.l.lo's involvement in ACTNOW. "I guess not."
Oth.e.l.lo smiled hopefully. "Does that mean I can put you down for a trip back East, courtesy of Oth.e.l.lo Hardaway Airlines?" Waiting for an answer, Oth.e.l.lo held onto his lower lip with his upper teeth, his eyes wide and eager, like a child whose Christmas wish was finally within reach.
SEVEN.
T HE ROYAL SUITE was as silent as a morgue in the dead of night. The one-way mirrored window muted the sound of fortunes being won and lost in the casino below. With his back to the window and the gambleholicsa"anyone still at the c.r.a.p tables at 3:00 a.m. had to be a gambleholica"Jasper Hollinquest guzzled down another scotch and soda and imagined putting his entire empire on the line in a single game of blackjack. This meeting was just as risky, he figured, but at least it was on his own turf, The Palace Hotel and Casino, his latest conquest and the perfect place for secrets to be kept secret.
The front door opened. Deon Anthony stood in the frame, his head barely making it. "Everybody here yet?" he asked in a gruff voice, sounding as if he'd been dragged to Atlantic City against his will. Knowing that by "everybody," Deon meant Oth.e.l.lo, Jasper shook his head and walked to the wet bar on the wall opposite the door.
"You made up your mind yet?" Jasper asked rather nonchalantly.
"h.e.l.l no," Deon said, full of disgust or confusion or both.
In the private underground garage of the hotel, Oth.e.l.lo slammed the door of the green Lexus and began a determined walk across the concrete. From the pa.s.senger side, Raider emerged and matched him stride for stride.
"Calm and steady," Oth.e.l.lo told himself, feeling more nervousness than he thought his body possessed as he marched toward the double-gla.s.s doors marked: PRIVATE GUESTS ONLY.
"You sure I can't go in there with you?" Raider asked. "You look like you could used a big dose of moral support and that is what I'm here for."
"I'm meeting these people to save the revolution, not blow it to bits by bringing in a surprise guest. No offense, but this ain't The Jerry Springer Show."
"Yeah, but I can tella""
"I should have left you on the jet."
"I couldn't let you come here alone. You're walking into some kind of fire; I can see that much in your eyes. Whoever 'these people' are, they're not your friends, and you need a friend right now."
They reached the entrance. Before going through, Oth.e.l.lo stopped and turned to Raider. "Your support means a lot. And as soon as I win this round, life will be a lot easier for you, me, ACTNOW and everybody. And I'll tell you more then, promise."
Raider started to speak, but Oth.e.l.lo opened one of the doors and stepped into a small lobby, barely acknowledging the guard behind the security desk before spotting the three elevator doors beyond him. "Which one to Suite 656, or does it matter?"
The guard was a heavyset white man in his thirties. He stood up abruptly, his hand inching toward the gun at his hip. "Only Mr. Oth.e.l.lo is allowed beyond this point."
Taken aback, Oth.e.l.lo and Raider eyed each other. "Fine," Oth.e.l.lo said, still looking at Raider. The guard then went to the middle elevator and inserted a key in the adjacent slot.
"Is this safe?" Raider whispered to Oth.e.l.lo.
"Hope so. Wait here with Biggie Small II. I should be back by...I don't know. If I'm not back by...dawn..." he swallowed hard, "help." He would have traded half his fortune for a kiss for good luck, but thought better than to ask, especially with the guard there. Instead, he made a solo trek to the elevator, turning and staring at Raider until the doors closed, separating them.
With Oth.e.l.lo gone, the lobby grew even smaller for Raider. Except for the gold velvet walls, the elevators doors and the guard, there wasn't much else in the room. 656, Raider repeated to himself a couple of times.
"We meet again." Oth.e.l.lo said when he opened the door to the Royal Suite. As if he owned the place, he made a beeline for the window overlooking the casino and drew the tall navy curtains closed.
"No one can see in here either way," Jasper said as he sat atop the solid oak desk near the center of the room.
Oth.e.l.lo completed the task anyway. "I do hope the third time's going to be a charm."
"Depends." From a large couch on the opposite side of the room, Deon was consumed in a miniature game of c.r.a.ps on the coffee table. "You gonna run out of here in the middle of the meeting again?"
In the lobby to the private entrance, Raider looked at the guard with an expression that said he was bored and uncomfortable, not to mention powerless. Enjoying the ego trip, a wicked grin wiped across the guard's face every time they made eye contact. After enough of thisa"one minute's wortha"Raider excused himself and disappeared into the parking garage.
"Don't let my ending that meeting early belie my seriousness about all this," said Oth.e.l.lo. "There was something I had to do and you two weren't ready to make up your minds anyway."
Deon shot a glance to Jasper, who returned his sullen expression. They've talked on their own, before today, Oth.e.l.lo decided.
Unlike before, a small regiment of blue-suited guards were now scattered about the parking garage, six of them, Secret Service wannabes with stoic faces. Who the h.e.l.l is Oth.e.l.lo meeting? Raider asked himself. The guards took note of him immediately, as if they were expecting him. With them watching his every move, he put on a humble act, milling around the garage, musing at the expensive cars until he saw a door marked: PUBLIC CASINO. He ambled his way toward the door, smiling at the blue suits on either side. "Good a time as any to win my fortune," he said, full of deference. When they offered no reaction, he slipped past them, and once through the door, he hustled his way through a series of corridors which eventually led to a junction where the main lobby met the casino. Having no intention of gambling, he headed for the public elevators, then pushed the b.u.t.ton for the sixth floor.
Jasper stood up, thought about another drink, but decided against it. "You've still been pretty scarce on details."
"As I said before," Oth.e.l.lo began, "a lot of groups need money. Hospices, legal defense funds, youth organizations, AIDS services, crime watch groups, hot lines."
"Even if I wanted to give them some of my hard earned money," Deon was still playing c.r.a.ps, "and I'm not saying I want toa"how would we do it?"
"That would be the easy part," said Jasper. "We set up a trust fund, filter in the money anonymously and groups apply for grants."
"And it never has to be traced back to us," said Oth.e.l.lo.
"But I'm not suggesting this is the answer," warned Jasper.
"Then what the h.e.l.l are you suggesting, Jasper?" Oth.e.l.lo asked.
The sixth floor from the public elevators was full of carbon copy doors echoing down twin hallways going in either direction. Noting the room numbers, Raider took the corridor to the east, the direction of the private lobby. Halfway down the hall, he heard the elevator bell ring out, prompting him to hurry past a bend in the hallway and duck into an alcove where the soda and ice machines stood. Peeking out, he saw two of the blue suits getting off the elevatora"were they onto him? They stood for a moment, listening in their ear pieces, then split up to check out the floor. The next door down from Raider was unmarked, a utility room perhaps, credit card-type slot for the lock. With the bend in the hallway as his only cover, Raider moved to the door. From his wallet, he retrieved a magnetic card and inserted it into the lock.
"Start your gay revolution." Jasper went for another drink after all. "h.e.l.l, there's a few politicians I'd like to see on the ropes for my own purposes. But why not start it without me? And know that you'll have my full moral support. Honest."
Deon laughed and rolled the dice again. Sensing he was losing them, Oth.e.l.lo drew a breath. "Tell me something: how do you two deal with your anger?"
"I got no anger," Deon insisted.
It wasn't a utility closet, more like some sort of mini-boiler room. With a pen-sized flashlight, Raider checked it out until he heard the door, which he'd left slightly ajar, begin to creak. Quickly, he ducked behind it just as it opened, remaining frozen as the blue suit flipped on the light and gave the room a once over from the doorway. Finding nothing, the man left, returning the room to darkness and shutting the door. In those few seconds of light, Raider had seen all he needed to see: an air-conditioning duct high on the wall.
"No anger?" Oth.e.l.lo said to Deon from the center of the room. "Then why are you so p.i.s.sed off at me?"
"Because you kidnapped me and dragged me to LA, dipping into my private life."
"What if the whole world knew about your private life?" Oth.e.l.lo moved closer. "Think you'd still be on the cover of all those sports magazines?"
Deon stood up. "What, you gonna out me now?"
"That's not the point of this, G.o.dd.a.m.nit!"
"Gentlemen, please," Jasper said, not knowing what to do if these two black men started fighting in his suite.
Standing on top of a boiler, Raider used his pocketknife to unscrew the vent to the air conditioning duct. Then, with not much room to spare, he crawled through the frosty metal tunnel, heading due east, counting the number of ceiling-high wall vents he pa.s.sed.
The Royal Suite was calmer now, even if the tension was still thick. On one side, Deon stood over the couch and the miniature c.r.a.p game, his posture rigid and noncompliant. Across the room, Oth.e.l.lo leaned against the big screen television, arms folded, one hand rubbing his head, antic.i.p.ating a headache. From his desk in the center, Jasper eyed Oth.e.l.lo and said: "Rock Star isn't going to out anyone. He knows I can use the power of the press to destroy every last fiber of him."
"You also have the power to expose the bigots as a.s.sholes," said Oth.e.l.lo. "And make people understand what groups like ACTNOW are fighting for."
"Just what the h.e.l.l is ACTNOW fighting for?" asked Deon.
"Us."
"They're not going to help me get past the Knicks once we put away Detroit tomorrow."
"No," Oth.e.l.lo said, "but they just might make you feel better about being a closeted f.a.ggot."
The last vent had been to an empty but lavish bedroom. The next one had to be part of the same suite according to Raider's calculations. He slithered toward it, then heard what sounded like Oth.e.l.lo's voice: "...do the things us rich and famous don't have the guts to do."