Uprising - The Suspense Thriller Part 13

"The controversy alone might sell zillions," mused Raider.

Oth.e.l.lo sighed a defeated sigh. "This wasn't supposed to be a night for business."

"Then let's talk about the revolutiona""

"No," Oth.e.l.lo said flatly, poised with newfound determination. "No more talk period." If his dream man was not to be, at least Oth.e.l.lo was going to know how it felt to be in his arms one time. He turned to Raider in full command of the few feet of deck between. "Wea"or at least Ia"came out here for some moonlight dancing."

He relieved Raider of his champagne gla.s.s and nestled it inside the coil of rope. Then he walked over to the door of the lower deck cabin and gave it three steady knocks. From a small speaker stationed on the upper deck above the engine room came the crackling sound of a sultry saxophone backed by the slow rhythms of a syncopated drum beat. Oth.e.l.lo flashed a confident, mischievous grin, then stripped off his brown bomber's jacket, revealing a tight black turtleneck which matched his black jeans.

"That's 'Succulent,'" Raider said guardedly, recognizing the steamy romantic ballad from One Nation.

"Correct for fifty points and a trip to the bonus round."

With one arm extended above him, he spun around twicea"a patented Oth.e.l.lo transition on stagea"then began gliding his hands over and around his face as if to frame it. From his face, his fingers slid down over the rest of his body, sensuously tracing the contours of his chest, stomach and finally, his a.s.s. From there, he began swaying his hips in time to the song's long jazzy intro, moving his arms as if he were sculpting the air, his body flowing to some inner rhythm. It was a performance for himself as much as his audience of one, proof to both of them that Oth.e.l.lo was a s.e.xual force to be dealt with. On the opposite side of the deck, Raider looked on, clinging to the railing behind him, caught between trepidation and curiosity, especially as Oth.e.l.lo began singing along with the song while looking directly into his eyes.

Strawberries can be so sweet.

And honey, oh, can be quite a treat.

But, baby, I bet nothing in this world can beat the taste of a little bit of you mixed in with a little bit of me....

Still singing, Oth.e.l.lo sauntered across the deck until he was inches away from Raider, not touching him but teasingly simulating caressing his hair, shoulders and torso. With an uneasy smile and bugged-out eyes, Raider played along, not dancing but not diving into the ocean either.

Succulent is what you are to me.

Can't you see, sugar, this is our every fantasy....

Gently, Oth.e.l.lo took hold of Raider's arms, extending them, dancing with them, forgoing singing along with the CD in favor of some playful eye contact. "Succulent" was in full tilt now, its smooth, silky melody meshing seductively with the hypnotic rocking of the Atlantic. And Oth.e.l.lo, on the CD, was wailing about how tasty it could be if two bodies gave in to their deepest dreams. To accentuate his point, he wrapped Raider's arms around his waist and placed his own arms around Raider's back, becoming engulfed for the first time in the natural smell of his lacrosse legend's flesh and hair, gradually lapsing from a performer performing into an ordinary soul who craved the feeling of being caught up in a loving embrace.

As if he were a talk show host reluctantly agreeing to be a trooper and partic.i.p.ate in some sort of stunt on his show, Raider went along with this dance. As long as Oth.e.l.lo didn't try anything more, he reasoned. Felt weird as all h.e.l.l though, dancing with another guy. A gay guy at that. But stay cool, he demanded of himself. Think of the glory that awaits once you bust up the gay Goodfellas. Besides, how many chicksa"and guysa"the world over would kill to be in your shoes right now, having Oth.e.l.lo crooning over them, l.u.s.ting after them, dancing with them. This last thought produced an inner chuckle and he was able to lighten up a bit, even firm up his grip on his male dance partner.

Oth.e.l.lo felt Raider's arms clinging to him tighter and a fresh burst of adrenaline raced through his body. He snuggled closer to Raider, his chin nestled comfortably in Raider's shoulder, his lips a breath away from that tanned neck and the moist golden locks tickling it. "No other song on earth makes me feel this s.e.xy," he murmured as their bodies slowly rotated around the axis of each other. As deflated as his heart was by The Lie, as suspicious as his mind had now become, it was impossible to dismiss the pull toward the man dancing in his arms on a yacht in the middle of the moonlit ocean. And Oth.e.l.lo realized right then and there he wanted Raider just as much if not more than before. His nose brushed across the strands of blond hair falling down Raider's neck, and with his fingers, he reached up and twirled them. Then, he kissed Raider's neck, ever so lightly, reveling in the faint taste of sweat that could have just as easily come from the playing fields of Dartmouth.

"Oth.e.l.lo, we shouldn't," came from Raider in a barely audible drone. "We're gonna take it really slow, remember?"

"I don't want all of you tonight," Oth.e.l.lo whispered, his tongue purposely brushing against the inside of Raider's ear. "Just a little bit."

Raider arched his head toward the moon in an effort to free his ear. "I don't feel so comfortable with your manager here."

"Sweeney won't bother us." He kissed Raider's large Adam's apple. "I ordered him to go to sleep."

"Still." Raider tried to peacefully untangle himself from Oth.e.l.lo's arms, but Oth.e.l.lo was just as resilient, not letting go of Raider, not letting Raider go.

"We're allegedly celebrating, remember?" said Oth.e.l.lo.

"Can't we allegedly celebrate without this?"

"Not when there's enough chemistry between us to blow up a science lab." With one arm struggling to remain around Raider, Oth.e.l.lo used his free hand to cup Raider's chin, intent on planting a kiss smack dab on hisa"

"Enough already, all right?"

Abruptly, Raider tore away to the opposite side of the deck and lunged for the railing, looking for a moment as if he were about to leap. Instead, he grabbed on as if for dear life and glared at the dark moody waters below.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Oth.e.l.lo said, horrified and guilt-ridden. "I didn'ta"I'm sorrya""

"It's all right, okay, cool." Raider insisted hastily, fighting for equilibrium and sanity. As he began to regain a portion of both, he realized no gay man in his right mind who'd already admitted to having a thing for Oth.e.l.lo would have overreacted like that, and now, he had to do some swift backpedaling or else this case was as good as dead. "Look, I have a confession." He turned to Oth.e.l.lo, who was frozen in the middle of the deck, a stupefied look on his face. "This is all very flattering, really, but I have to tell you the truth. I'm not very experienced when it comes to gay s.e.x."

"Not very experienced?" Oth.e.l.lo felt another lie coming. He walked over to the speaker through which "Succulent" was still humming and disconnected it. "Just exactly how not very experienced are you?"

Raider bowed his head to the deck. "I'm not very experienced at all," he said rather sheepishly, then quickly came back with: "but I do know that I...that I like...that I want to, you knowa""

"No, I don't know, Raider, why don't you tell me?"

"Look, I don't want you to get mad at mea""

"What am I supposed to do? You told me you once had a lover, Adam, and that you've had your share of sport nookiea""

"Well, I lied, okay? Sort of."

"That's an understatement, wouldn't you say?"

Raider exhaled nervously. "Adam was my wife, Adele, who you already know about, and most of my s.e.x in the past was with women. Not all, mind you," he added quickly. "I told you different because I know some militant gays look down on guys for being bis.e.xual. You know that's true. I heard it myself at the meetings. This whole group of guys was bad-mouthing that actor Duke Whatley for being bi. And I didn't know if you would look down on me for having had more women than men in the past, even though I know all's I want now is men. I'm still trying to come out and feel comfortable with all this, you know. The last thing I wanted you to do was reject me for being bi because I think you're a nice guy. And I kinda like you. So I lied."

Oth.e.l.lo threw his head back and let out a long breath, his hard-boiled stance crumbling involuntarily. Raider picked up on this and took it as a cue to drive home the "poor li'l stud" act.

"Is that what you're gonna do now," he asked like a crestfallen boy in need of rea.s.surance, "reject me?"

"You probably overheard some people at ACTNOW bad-mouthing Duke Whatley because he's claiming straight, not owning up to even being bi. Most gays, militant or otherwise, don't have a problem with bis.e.xuals."

"But what about you?"

"I couldn't care less about that. I'm just upset that you lied."

"Well, can you forgive me now that you know why?" Raider said, creasing his brow and kicking the charm into overdrive. "I just wanted you to like me."

Oth.e.l.lo ma.s.saged his temples for relief. "Not quite the night I planned." He looked up at the stars. "Any more surprises?"

"None," Raider proclaimed, confident he was well on his way back into Oth.e.l.lo's good graces. "Promise."

"So what else have you lied to me about? We might as well get it all out on the table right now."

Raider was surprised by the question. "Well, nothing," he said, staring into Oth.e.l.lo's eyes ever so briefly before letting out a terse breath and turning toward the sea, the matter all wrapped up in a neat little bundle in his mind.

Oth.e.l.lo stood there as rigid as a statue, the question of honesty far from resolved. Then he decided it was time to tell Sweeney to take The Girlfriend back to the Jersey sh.o.r.e. He was no longer in the mood for moonlight dancing.

NINE.

K ANSAS CITY, MISSOURI: Sisters Unite Bookshop has security cameras installed to combat the recent rash of vandalism to the lesbian and feminist bookstore. In the past year, vandals have written anti-gay obscenities on the storefront dozens of times, thrown d.i.l.d.oes through the front windows, and twice broken in and looted the cash register. Now, thanks to the Triangle Fund, cameras will catch any and all vandals in the act.

Washington, DC: Serve and Protect, a crime watch group formed to fight gay bashing near gay establishments, receives a substantial influx of cash to aid in their operation. Now, the group is equipped with walkie talkies, cellular phones, video cameras and minivans to help combat the area's gay-related hate crimes.

Miami, Florida: Rainbow House, a non-profit home for gay and lesbian teenagers, is awarded a grant for much-needed repairs and improvements to the old Spanish-style mansion that houses up to twelve teens abandoned by their families. The money will go toward fixing the plumbing, new furniture and adding six computers to the house library. A scholarship fund is also set up to allow each member of Rainbow House to attend college upon emanc.i.p.ation from the group home.

Indianapolis, Indiana: Hoosiers With Heart, the city's largest AIDS service organization, is given enough money to move into a brand new facility. Their old building was owned by the Catholic church, which fought them on many s.e.x-related issues and prevented them from conducting safe s.e.x seminars and distributing condoms on the facility's premises.

Houston, Texas: Beacon Hospice for persons with AIDS finally opens after three years of financial struggles and legal battles, thanks to a grant from the Triangle Fund.

Boise, Idaho: The Rainbow Task Force, the city's main gay and lesbian organization, is awarded enough money to hire lawyers to fight an unlawful eviction prompted by anti-gay factions within the community.

"GENTLEMEN," OTh.e.l.lO announced, eyeing the US map on the wall of the Temple and sticking a red pushpin into Boise, Idaho, "the Triangle Fund is a winner. It's sweeping the nation and rising up the charts faster than one of my hits."

Jasper and Deon laughed, but Oth.e.l.lo could tell they were both br.i.m.m.i.n.g with pride and satisfaction. As planned.

"We need to help out a whole lot more black folk," Deon said as he sat at the conference table, poring over the reports.

"I'm for the crime watch gangs myself," said Jasper. He was leaning against the console underneath the map, scrolling the computer monitor. "Here's twelve more that could use some a.s.sistance. Definite yes vote for me."

"And six more groups are forming across the country." Oth.e.l.lo turned away from the dozens of red pushpins scattered across the states. "Just think: we, the Three Wis.e.m.e.n, are inspiring a whole nation of gays without stepping one foot out of our miserable little closets." In the next beat, his grin disappeared. The part about miserable little closets sounded more like an accidental admission than the joke he had intended. He stared at his feet, speechless, embarra.s.sed.

"Wait until my boy Bruce does his piece on the Fund." Jasper sat down at the conference table, trying his best to ignore Oth.e.l.lo's comment. "They'll start coming to us instead of us having to seek them out."

The admission also made Deon uncomfortable, but no way was he gonna touch that one. "Next on the list is this initiative in Maine. Some kind of measure to ban any mention of gays in discrimination laws."

"That's an easy one," said Jasper.

"Twenty grand gonna be enough?" Deon looked across the table to Jasper, the money expert.

"That's what they're asking for, that's what they get."

"Cool," Deon said, then looked to Oth.e.l.lo.

"Unanimous," Oth.e.l.lo mumbled from behind Jasper.

"Next up," said Jasper, "a gay nudist colony in Michigan. They're claiming one of those militia groups is trying to run them out of the county."

"Nudists?" said Deon. "How do we know they aren't trying to rip us off."

"n.o.body rips us off," Jasper promised with a cold glare.

"Still," said Deon. Unlike Jasper, whose men were running the Fund, and Oth.e.l.lo, who had his manager checking the books, Deon was flying solo on this venture. He had no accountants or lawyers he could open up to about his latest investment, a fact that made him the most gun-shy when it came to approving grants.

"Rock Star, what do you know about these nudies?" Jasper turned around to find that Oth.e.l.lo had moved to the end of the table and was facing the revolving fireplace. "Rock Star?" he repeated.

Oth.e.l.lo startled and turned back to his partners.

"The Michigan nudists," said Jasper. "Deon's unsure; break the tie."

Oth.e.l.lo shrugged, his mind only partially in the room. "Beats the h.e.l.l out of me." His partners blanched. It was the first time Oth.e.l.lo had ever been noncommittal in a vote. "Well, it's been a long day," he offered as an excuse. It was past midnight in Los Angeles, the late start of the meeting due to game two of the Bulls-Knicks series earlier in the afternoon in Chicago. Deon and the Bulls won easily, 112-99, to take a 2-0 lead in the best-of-seven series. But Jasper and Deon didn't seem to buy Oth.e.l.lo's excuse. "Juice, soda, anything, anyone?" Oth.e.l.lo asked, trying to deflect attention away from himself. When they shook their heads, he made his way to the buffet table on the wall opposite the US map, already forgetting what their question had been.

In the two weeks since Atlantic City, life had been one dizzy roller-coaster ride for Oth.e.l.lo, between getting the Fund up and running, trying to find an AIDS doctor but not knowing where to turn, listening with apprehension then relief to reports that said the cops were no closer to identifying the culprits from Simi Valley, and most of all, Raider, the man from Nantucket who hadn't been to Nantucket in years. So far, Oth.e.l.lo had avoided seeing him since The Lie, using music business as an excuse, which was pure fabrication because, much to Sweeney's discontent, he'd been neglecting One Nation as per usual since testing positive. Now, this morning, Raider had called with an offer to come over and cook dinner sometime. How could Oth.e.l.lo say no, wanting so desperately to have Raider in his life? But how could he say yes, knowing how much was at stake?

Mineral water in hand, he rejoined his partners, sitting for the first time since they arrived. Foregoing the head of the table, he sat on Deon's side.

"I move we hold off on the nudists," said Jasper. "Investigate."

"This is all fine," said Oth.e.l.lo, "but the radical factions need a boost, too, Queer Nation, ACT UP, and my personal favorite, ACTNOW." Earlier tonight, Oth.e.l.lo had dressed as Joe and attended his first ACTNOW meeting since Simi Valley. The group was in complete disarray. Those not part of the Weeks debacle offered various and often polar-opposite opinions about the anonymous terrorists, while in the secret meeting conducted afterwards by Travis and the other members who partic.i.p.ated in Simi Valley, there was just as much disharmony and disagreement about what they had done and what to do next.

"Those groups would give the Fund a bad name," said Jasper. "I can see now the Christian news networks linking all our charity work with tattooed, pierced radicals urinating on the steps of the capitol."

"So what," argued Oth.e.l.lo, remembering the heavily censored shots of ACTNOW doing just that over a year ago. "This isn't about public relations."

"It's not for the Fund," Jasper declared, "end of story."

"I agree," Deon said. "Although I was at the White House the same day they did that, you know, right after we won the championship. Some aid runs in with a Southern accent: 'Gays are p.i.s.sing on the Capitol! Gays are p.i.s.sing on the Capitol!' I 'bout died busting a gut."

Deon and Jasper laughed and reminisced about that day, which was Oth.e.l.lo's cue to tell them they were right: supporting radical activist groups wasn't for the more pristine Triangle Fund, and that was why they should escalate the war on a separate front by secretly getting behind the more hard-core rebels, ACTNOW in particular. Instead, he veered off course. "Let's just keep on trucking down the list," he mumbled, not fighting the fight he had planned, and most troubling of all, not understanding why.

CORVALLIS, OREGON: Free Oregon receives a Triangle Fund grant to fight a proposed city ordinance that would prohibit the teaching of positive gay images in schools.

Santa Monica, California: Inroads, an acclaimed performance arts center predominantly used by gay and lesbian artists, is awarded a grant to replace the one revoked by the National Endowment for the Arts. The NEA had partially funded the theater s.p.a.ce for the past five years, but recently succ.u.mbed to conservative congressmen who attacked the theater for its "immoral" content. Now, government funding will no longer be necessary.

Chicago, Illinois; Cleveland, Ohio; Detroit, Michigan; East St. Louis, Illinois; Camden, New Jersey: AIDS hospices and services organizations located in urban neighborhoods in each of these cities are given substantial grants to provide improved services to its mostly minority clientele.

"BROWNING, HOPPER, in," Jasper commanded from behind his desk. "Everybody else out. Jump!"