he really want me to or is he just saying that?’” Glancing at the growing number of patrons, Lance said, “Time to get busy. Been a slow month, but tonight will be pumpin’! Before I deal with these queens the rest of the night—am I right? You a Marine officer?”
Picking up his drink, Patrick extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Lance. My name’s Patrick. I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” Lance’s wink communicated he understood Patrick’s need to be coy. Grabbing some glasses, Lance backed away to the other end of the bar. Patrick turned to face the crowd, amazed at how rapidly the roof had filled with customers. He could only imagine what it looked like on the lower two floors. Realizing there was only one way to find out, he descended the staircase into the dark and loud space below.
“Bitch, I done told you if you so much as look as my man again, I’d slice your damn throat.”
Jay hated waiting in lines and paying cover charges but the afternoon’s reconnaissance with Ollie had delayed his plans, forcing him to stand outside with these obnoxious fairies. He hoped the effeminate homosexuals would get into a fight, providing some entertainment, but the one who’d spoken sashayed to the back of the line without carrying out his threat.
The line into the club was fifty yards long and snaked down a sidewalk adjacent to a row of parked cars. Two had the telltale DoD decals, similar to the jeep’s Jay had copied earlier. No other businesses in the vicinity were open, leading Jay to the conclusion that the owners were in the club. He decided against writing down the numbers so as not to arouse suspicion.
“Mmm good!” Jay turned around to see a large guy with a beard leering at him. “De-lic-ious!” The man licked his lips. Jay turned to the front, glad he was at the door to the club.
“Need to see some ID.” Jay handed the doorman a Virginia license. “What’s with all the out-of-state IDs tonight?” He studied the picture and then scrutinized Jay. “Go on in.”
6
“Wondered when the dream team would show up tonight.” “Makes two of us,” Don said as Lance handed him a beer. “Thanks. Just what I needed. Getting the ladies—and the lesbian—moving on a Saturday night wore me out. Karl had to call his fan club to tell them where he could be seen.” Don looked around. “Looks busy.”
“Thanks to all the rain, tonight’s the first Saturday the patio’s been open since New Year’s Eve. If I lost any more tips, I’d have to reenlist.”
“Admit it. You miss the thirty-mile marches with a seventy-pound pack and mortar plate.”
“My molecular biology textbook is as heavy as that plate. My parking lot’s gotta be thirty miles from my eight A.M. class.” Lance poured vodka in a tumbler, giving it a shake. “When your Marines bitch about how bad they got it, tell ’em the ‘First Civ Div’ ain’t no bed of roses.”
“Really? You trying to tell me that in the ‘First Civilian Division’ they don’t wake you gently every morning at ten with harps and flutes and violins?”
“Maybe—but I’m awake no later than seven thanks to garbage trucks and the neighbor’s Pomeranians.” Lance divided the mixture from the tumbler into two glasses.
“What about the wine and cheese and caviar they serve you civilians every evening,” Don said. “Don’t tell me that’s bullshit too.”
“Buddy. Try ramen noodles and nasty coffee so I can stay awake studying till three A.M.”
“Damn! Remind me again why you got out?”
“Don’t worry about investigators snooping in my life,” Lance said. “These are for Eddie and Robbi.” He gave Don the martini glasses. “Karl wants a drink, tell him to come get it himself.”
Don took the three drinks. “You’re not over him? Man, never seen you smitten like this.”
“Karl hasn’t left with anyone in months. He’s just waitin’ for a chance to tell me he’s sorry.”
“You sound like a country song.” Don laughed as he walked away from the bar.
His friends had gathered under a large heater. Lance was right. Don couldn’t remember the last time Karl had hooked up. There wasn’t anything wrong with Karl taking it easy sexually—it was just a definite change in his young friend’s behavior. When Don recalled the wad of twenty-dollar bills in Karl’s wallet, he wondered what might be going on in Karl’s life.
“Hey!” Karl said. “Where’s my drink?”
“Drink some of mine,” Robbi said. “You are about to become my lawful wedded husband.”
“You’re really going through with it?” Eddie shook his head. “Fake marriages can backfire.”
“I don’t want that girly drink.” Karl motioned toward the bar. “He knows what I like.”
“And according to him,” Don said, “you know what he likes.”
“Christ! Don’t tell me I have to fuck him again just to get a goddamned beer in this dump.” Karl left the group, Don presumed, to make peace with his ex-boyfriend.
“Gimme a break. Like Karl’s a top.” Eddie sipped his beverage. “Damn! Lance makes ’em strong. Or maybe I just ain’t had none in a while.”
“Did I hear Karl say ‘Christ’?” Don asked. “How long’s he been swearin’ with that word?”
“Who knows,” Robbi said. “He picks up bad habits like you or I pick up the dry-cleaning.” To Eddie, she explained, “Half our unit thinks we’re married already and the rest assume we’re a couple. The ones who’re smart enough to guess the truth are already on our side and won’t talk. We’ll make more money and get permission to live off base. The system’s such bullshit.”
“No argument from us.” Don scanned the patio and waved to friends and acquaintances.
“Why…waste yo’ time? You know you gonna be mine!” Karl screeched as he danced back to the group. “I’m gonna get choo, YES I AM…!”
“That was fast,” Don said. “And I see you got your beer.”
“My man just couldn’t stay away from me more than five minutes.” Robbi feigned passion. “Honey, where’s your sweatshirt?”
“He’s gotta show off that tan,” Eddie said. “A wife beater undershirt in January. Could you be any more of a gay cliché?”
“Homo say what?” asked Karl. “It’s hot beside the heater with all you pussies—not talking about you, old lady. Chill. Don’t let me forget. I left the sweatshirt with my boy at the bar. He misses me very much by the way.”
“What do Marines do in bed with each other?” asked Eddie. “I mean besides wear out a double-headed dildo?”
“Ha Ha Ha, that’s so fucking original, sailor boy!” Karl said mockingly. “Ooh, quick, I need to write that down. ‘all…Marines…are…nelly…bottoms…’ there. Can I use that? I’m sure no one’s ever heard it before.”
“Smart
