The Dream Ender Read online

  He grinned. “Well, we might if you hadn’t gone monogamous on me.” Then his grin faded, and he added, “which may not have been such a bad idea.”

  Before I met Jonathan, Jared and I had gotten together regularly for a little no-holds-barred horizontal recreation, which was made all the more enjoyable by the fact neither of us had any romantic designs on the other. I’d had the same type of relationship with both Tim and Phil, as well. Though I’d never mentioned it to Jonathan, I know he knew; and bless him, he never let on, or let it cloud his own friendship with them.

  Jeezus, you were a slut! one of my mind-voices said.

  Luckily, a couple others came to my defense. Bullshit! You were just a healthy, red-blooded American boy. Sex was fun. It still is. You’ve just limited the number of players.

  The waiter brought Jared’s drink and asked if we’d like some more time to look at the menu. We said yes, and he left.

  We sat in silence for a moment. I knew Jared wanted to say something and decided I’d give him time to do it.

  “I’m worried,” he said finally, not looking directly at me.

  “I know,” I said. “Mike.”

  He nodded. “Mike. And he’s the third one I know of to die from the Male Call crowd in the last four months. A couple others have just dropped out of sight, and I’ve heard of a couple others who are sick.”

  The Male Call was the city’s most popular leather bar, and one of Jared and Jake’s hangouts whenever what Jared called their “leather mood” struck them.

  “They closed the back room,” he said, referring to a poorly lit walled-off rear section of the bar where anything and everything could and did go on. “Sort of like locking the barn door after the horses got out. Business has really dropped off. Guys are scared. I’m scared.”

  “Did you have sex with Mike?” I asked, though I really didn’t have to.

  He nodded again. “Just before he found out,” he said.

  I couldn’t help myself; I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Isn’t there some sort of test you can take? Do you know anything about it?” I asked.

  He sighed. “There isn’t any test. Jake’s brother Stan is an immunologist at Mercy Memorial, and he just returned from a year with the CDC, so he’s right there on the edge of things. He mentioned they’re working on a way to test for it, but…Mercy’s treating more AIDS patients than most people know. They’ve set aside a special floor for them. Some nurses refuse to work on it. Some doctors, too, if you can believe it. The hospital keeps it all real quiet.”

  He said nothing for another moment then continued, “But even if there was a test, Jake says he wouldn’t take it. ‘If I don’t have it, there isn’t any reason to,’ he says. ‘And if I did have it, it’d be too late to do anything about it.’ I have to admit he has a point.”

  The waiter came to take our order, though I was not the least bit hungry. I waited until he left before I said, “Neither one of you has had any…physical problems…have you?”

  He shook his head. “No. We’re both healthy as a horse. It’s just the idea of the thing. You don’t know how lucky you are that you and Jonathan have the arrangement you have.”

  I knew.

  “Well,” I said, “I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about as long as you’re careful.”

  “We are,” he said. “Now. We even use a rubber with each other. But that’s just been since Mike. Again, horses and the barn door.”

  “Jake’s right in that there really isn’t any point to worrying about it. You can’t go back and change the past. All you can do is be careful from here on out.”

  “Believe me, we will be,” he said. He looked me directly in the eye and held it. “Thanks, Dick,” he said.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For being here for me. I’m not the kind of guy to go around crying on other people’s shoulders, but I had to talk about it and I knew I could talk to you.”

  “I appreciate that, Jared,” I said. “And you know I’m here any time you need me.”

  He nodded again as the waiter brought our food.

  Chapter 2

  I really don’t like to keep things from Jonathan, and when he called to say he would be about an hour late getting home, I felt guilty for not mentioning my having had lunch with Jared. I rationalized that it was more a way of respecting Jared’s confidence than in keeping something from Jonathan.

  I’d picked up Joshua after day care, which he insisted on calling “school.” We had talked about putting him in a public school kindergarten when the new school year started in September but decided his current day care offered a learning experience equivalent to what he would get in a public school. Plus, taking him out of day care would create even more logistical problems considering our work schedules. We knew we’d have to face those problems when time for first grade arrived, but until then…

  Okay, I know I’m telling you more about raising a kid than you probably need or care to know, but it just underscores how much of my life was now involved in things I never would have dreamed of even two years earlier.

  Since Jonathan was going to be late, I decided I’d fix dinner, so Joshua and I stopped at the store on the way home. I made the mistake of asking him what he’d like, as if I didn’t already know, and on cue he replied, “Macaroni and hot dogs!” Maybe I’d asked him because I knew what he’d say, and macaroni and hot dogs don’t exactly require a degree in gourmet cooking.

  There was a message on our machine from Phil and Tim; and figuring that since I’d pretty much mastered the art of boiling water, I could put off starting dinner until just before Jonathan was due home, so I gave them a call right away.

  Phil answered.

  “Hi, handsome,” I said. “Is your lover home?”

  “No. Why don’t you come on over? I’m horny as all hell, and I don’t get nearly enough attention lately. I’d been hoping you’d call and I’m dying to see you… Who is this, by the way?”

  We both laughed.

  “I see you’ve been taking prick-teasing lessons from Tim again,” I said.

  “Never know when they might come in handy,” he replied, followed by a sharp, “Ouch! It’s Dick, okay?”

  I heard Tim in the background saying, “I knew that. You just deserve a good punch every now and then on general principles.”

  “Boys! Boys!” I said. “Play nice!”

  “I am playing nice!” Joshua said, looking up from his coloring book.

  “I know you are, Joshua,” I said. “I was talking to Uncle Phil and Uncle Tim.” I paused to shake my head before returning to the phone. “Well, now that everyone is thoroughly confused,” I said, “I was just returning your call.”

  “Yeah, we were wondering if you guys might want to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Tim’s got an urge to make lasagna and you know he always makes enough to feed the Bulgarian army.”

  “Does Bulgaria have an army?” I asked.

  “Not since his last lasagna,” Phil replied, followed by another loud, “Ouch! Quit beating on me, you little twerp, or I’ll whip your ass!”

  I heard Tim’s voice again, “Promises, promises!”

  I laughed. “I’ll have to check with Jonathan—he should be home shortly—but let’s count on it, and if he’s got something else planned for us, I’ll call you back. Otherwise, what time?”

  There was another muffled exchange between Tim and Phil, then, “Seven? That be too late for Joshua?”

  “Seven’s fine,” I said. “He’s used to going to sleep at your place anyway, and once he’s out, he’s out, though he’s getting pretty heavy to throw over my shoulder. But we’ll manage.”

  “Great. We’ll see you then.”

  We hung up, and I went to the kitchen to fill two pans with water and turn on the stove.

  “Come on, Joshua, let’s set the table,” I called.

  We’d been using a set of Melmac dishes so if they were dropped, they wouldn’t
break. But Joshua was getting pretty adept at holding on to things and seemed to actually enjoy helping us around the house.

  Have I mentioned he’s a pretty good kid?

  *

  We arrived at Tim and Phil’s right on time, and Joshua immediately ran to their large aquarium to watch the fish while Phil fixed us drinks: a Manhattan for me, a Coke for Jonathan, bourbon-Sevens for himself and Tim, and a small glass of Coke with a maraschino cherry for Joshua.

  “You got a new fish!” Joshua declared, pointing to a small, bright pink fish about three inches long. How he was able to spot one new fish in a tank with dozens I didn’t know.

  “Yeah,” Tim said. “He’s a pink veil-tail oscar. We just got him.”

  “His name is Oscar?” Joshua asked, obviously enthralled.

  Phil, Jonathan and I sat around the kitchen table talking while Tim puttered getting everything ready, then moved into the dining area for dinner. Tim had made two huge pans of lasagna, which was served with a large salad and garlic bread and wine (another Coke for Jonathan and milk for Joshua). Needless to say, it was all wonderful, and I remarked yet again that if Tim ever decided to leave his job as an assistant medical examiner with the coroner’s office, he should open a restaurant.

  After dinner we sat around the living room talking, while Joshua alternately ran to the fish tank and sat on the floor with a box of crayons and the coloring book we’d brought along. Around eight twenty, he crawled up on the couch between Jonathan and me and, after a valiant effort to keep awake, began a slow but increasing list to port until his head was in Jonathan’s lap and he was asleep, Jonathan’s arm over his shoulder.

  “Have you talked to Jared and Jake?” Tim asked.

  “Yeah, we called both of them a couple days ago,” Jonathan said, sparing me having to find a way to avoid saying I’d had lunch with Jared the day before. “Did they tell you about their friend?”

  Phil sighed. “Yeah. As we were going down to the cars after we left your place, I asked why they’d been so quiet all night and they told us. We met him once, I think, when we went out bar-hopping with them. I think it was at the Male Call.”

  Again I resisted the temptation to say anything.

  “Oh, yeah,” Tim said. “I remember him now. A real hunk!” He paused and shook his head. “What a damned shame!”

  “Neither Jake nor Jared said anything, but I think it really rattled them, especially considering how active they are.”

  “It’s like Russian roulette,” Tim added. “The more times you pull the trigger, the greater the risk you’re taking. I’m not trying to sound holier than thou here, but the worse this thing gets, the more glad I am I’m not out there on the streets anymore.”

  “Amen to that,” said Phil, who, like Jonathan, had been a hustler when I first met him.

  *

  We left around nine thirty, me carrying a still-sound-asleep Joshua like a sack of potatoes and Jonathan a large aluminum-foil-covered tray of lasagna.

  As we’d done before on similar occasions, rather than trying to put Joshua in his pajamas and get him cleaned up, we postponed the ritual until morning and put him to bed in his underwear, making sure Bunny was at his side.

  When we went to bed ourselves, Jonathan snuggled up close, putting his arm around me to draw me even closer.

  “Can we have sex?” he asked

  “Since when do you have to ask?” I said, somewhat taken aback by the question but sensing something behind it.

  He sighed, the flat of his hand moving slowly back and forth across my chest.

  “I’m scared,” he said, “and I don’t want to have to be afraid of sex. I guess I just need a little reassurance.”

  I pulled his head to me and kissed him on the forehead.

  “You’ve got it,” I said. and then we didn’t talk anymore.

  *

  The days clicked by. We’d heard nothing further from Jake or Jared, but that wasn’t all that unusual. Bob called on a Thursday to ask if we’d like to join him and Mario for an after-church brunch at Napoleon, our favorite gay restaurant, on Sunday and we accepted, conditional on our being able to get Craig Richman to come watch Joshua for a couple of hours.

  Every Sunday, Jonathan took Joshua to services at the local gay Metropolitan Community Church. As a confirmed agnostic, I did not feel comfortable with any organized religious service so I never went, but since Joshua’s parents had taken him to church regularly before they were killed, Jonathan thought it was important to keep up the tradition. On those occasions when Craig, who was openly gay, babysat for us on a Saturday night, he often, with his parents’ full approval, stayed overnight and would then accompany the two Js to church. He usually attended services with his family at a non-gay church, so he always welcomed the chance to go to the MCC whenever he could.

  When we called to ask if he was available, Jonathan made arrangements to meet him at the church and bring him home for babysitting after.

  Just after we’d put Joshua to bed and were sitting in the living room watching TV, the phone rang. Since I was closest, I picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  I almost didn’t recognize the voice. “Dick, it’s Jared. Are you busy?”

  I instinctively felt as though I’d suddenly jumped feet first into freezing water. “No, we’re just watching some TV. What’s up?”

  “I…uh…” That damned hesitation again! “I had to come in to see Jake.”

  The chill had reached my bones. “See Jake?” I repeated inanely.

  “Yeah. He’s…in the hospital. He’s got pneumonia.”

  Oh, Jeezus!

  Chapter 3

  “Where are you?” I asked, trying to sound casual, but when I saw the look on Jonathan’s face I could tell he knew something was wrong. He got up and came over to stand beside me.

  “I just left the hospital,” Jared said. “I’m going to go spend the night at his place, but I thought maybe you could meet me for a beer somewhere?”

  “Which hospital?” I asked.

  “Mercy Memorial, where Jake’s brother Stan works.”

  “That’s not far from here,” I said. “Why don’t you come over here?”

  “I don’t want to upset Jonathan. I know what a softie he is,” he said, and I could tell he meant it as a joke. It didn’t work.

  “It’s no bother at all,” I said. “And he’d feel bad if you didn’t.”

  There was a long pause, then a sigh. “Yeah, but it’s a work night for him and…”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “Just come over.”

  He paused only a moment before saying, “Okay. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll keep the beer cold,” I said.

  Jonathan said, “What’s wrong?” before I’d even put the receiver down.

  “Jake’s in the hospital. He’s got pneumonia. It’s probably nothing,” I lied, noting the look of shock on his face…

  “Bullshit!” he snapped. “Damn it, Dick, I wish you wouldn’t always try to protect me! I’m not made of glass!”

  The sharpness of his tone, and the fact that he almost never swore, not only pulled me back to reality but made me realize he was right—I was trying to protect him. I was always trying to protect him and Joshua. That’s what I was there for.

  Oh, come on, Tarzan, several of my mind-voices said in unison, Jonathan’s your partner, not your kid.

  I reached out and pulled him toward me, wrapping my arms around him.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” I said. “It’s just that I’d do anything to keep you from being unhappy. You know that.”

  He raised his head off my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “I know that and I appreciate it…I do. But we’ve got Joshua, and one kid in the family is enough.” He kissed me on the tip of my nose and broke our hug. “Come on,” he said, indicating the scattered books and newspapers around the room. “Let’s pick up some of this mess before Jared gets here.”

  *

 
“So what happened?” I asked as I handed Jared his beer and sat down.

  He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “He’s been trying to juggle two big jobs at the same time, and he just bit off more than he could chew. He was working sixteen hours a day and weekends, and about two weeks ago, after all that rain you had down here, he caught a really bad cold. But he wouldn’t let it slow him down, and then one of his foremen up and quit, so Jake had to work even harder to fill in for him. I kept telling him to talk to Stan, and when he did, Stan put him right in the hospital.”

  “So it’s just regular pneumonia?” Jonathan asked. “Not…that other kind?”

  “Pneumocystis?” Jared said, then shrugged. “Yeah, I’m afraid it is.”

  “But that doesn’t mean…?” Jonathan began, but couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

  Jared shook his head. “We don’t know. It might just be the overwork that’s affected his immune system. Stan says he’s going to try to get that test they’re working on for him as soon as it’s available, but he doesn’t know when that might be.” His voice was calm, but the strain was clearly evident.

  “How long will he be in the hospital?” I asked.

  “It depends on how he responds to the treatment. Probably a couple of days. He just needs to rest up.”

  “We’ll go see him tomorrow, if that’s okay,” I said.

  “I’d rather you didn’t. He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s in the hospital or make a big deal out of it. When he gets a little better…”

  “Of course,” I said. “Just let us know, though. We do want to see him as soon as he’s up to it. I assume you haven’t told the rest of the gang?”

  “No, there’s no point in worrying them. Everybody is so skittish about this…this whole business, they assume the worst when someone sneezes. So, please don’t say anything.”

  “We won’t,” Jonathan and I said in unison.

  “I’m taking some time off from work,” Jared continued, “just to make sure that Jake takes it easy when he gets out. I know damned well he’s going to want to go directly from the hospital to work, and I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”