Chapter 21
We spent the rest of Christmas Eve watching TV and cuddling. There was a Charlie Chaplin movie on that we both enjoyed, then a choice of either a musical or a war movie. I selected the musical. Arthur would like it, and the last thing I wanted to watch was actors pretending to blow each other up as if they knew what it was really like.
Since I talked to Arthur about Vietnam, I felt as if a black cloud had slowly drifted away, leaving me lighter and brighter. I still barely slept unless I gobbled sleeping pills, but I no longer felt as I were standing at a precipice, waiting for some unseen force to pull me over the edge. Those awful memories hadn't gone away altogether, but somehow things weren't so bad. Sharing with my therapists never made any difference but sharing with Arthur had. Maybe because he loved me.
When the movie ended, we went to bed, fooled around for a while, then slept in each other's arms. I opened my eyes on Christmas morning to find Arthur already awake, smoking and sipping coffee. A steaming mug waited for me.
"Merry Christmas, Travis." He leaned over to kiss me. I grinned up at him when he drew back.
"Merry Christmas, Arthur. How long have you been awake?"
"Only ten minutes. I slept really well."
"Me too." I'd taken two pills last night. I sat up to drink my coffee, and Arthur lit a cigarette for me. When we'd finished them, Arthur put the mugs aside, switched on the Christmas tree lights, and took the two small parcels from beneath it. He passed me the flatter one.
"Open yours first."
"Okay." The parcel didn't have a gift tag attached, but Arthur had written on the plain blue paper: "To Travis. Merry Christmas. Love from Arthur." I pulled off the paper to reveal a box with a jeweller's logo on it.
"I hope you like it." Arthur barked with laughter and lit another cigarette with shaking hands.
"Hey." I squeezed his knee. "Of course I'll like it. It's my first Christmas gift that meant anything."
"You might not like it. I kept the receipt in case you want to take it back. I, um, I—" He rubbed a hand over his face.
"Stop it." I ran my hand up his thigh and back down to his knee. "Don't get so anxious about this."
"I never had anyone important to buy a gift for. I don't want to fuck it up."
I kept my hand on his leg while I opened the box. Inside was a heavy silver chain, very like the one I used to have.
"Do you like it?" Arthur prompted worriedly.
"I love it. I used to have one like this." I picked up the chain and fastened it around my neck. It was just the right length to nestle at the base of my throat.
"I know. You were wearing one in that picture in the newspaper clipping. I just worried that one might have been given to you by someone special."
"I never had anyone special before you, Arthur, you know that. I bought that chain myself. It got broken and lost when I was shot." I leaned over and kissed him. "I love it. Thank you."
Finally, he relaxed and smiled. "Can I open mine now?"
"Sure."
He stuck his cigarette between his lips and unwrapped the box. As he lifted off the lid and saw the watch, he gasped, and his cigarette fell on the sheet. "Shit!" He snatched it up. It had already singed the sheet.
I laughed and took it from him. "I hope it's okay," I said.
"It's perfect." He fastened the watch strap around his left wrist. "I always wanted a watch like this, but I never had any money to buy one. Penny bought that stupid purple one I wear. Thank you, Travis." He took his cigarette back and dropped it into the ashtray. Then he cupped my face in his hands and brought our lips together.
We showered together that morning, squeezing into the tiny space and getting each other off with soapy hands. When we'd dried off, I put on one of my best shirts and trousers.
"Why are you dressing up?" Arthur put his new watch back on first. "You're not thinking of going to church, are you?"
"Church? Hell, no."
He snorted. "Good. Penny always used to watch a church service on the TV on Christmas morning. I never used to get it."
"You don't believe in God?"
"No."
"Me neither." I found my best blazer. "We're going out for Christmas dinner. I thought you could wear your red suit."
"We're going out?" His eyes widened.
"Is that okay?"
"Yes. I've never been out for Christmas dinner. I didn't even know you could do that."
"We're going to that club. We could dance after, if you wanted to."
Arthur beamed. "I'd love that. I'll get dressed." He looked down at himself, wearing nothing but underwear and his watch.
I folded up the couch while he picked out some clothes. "Do you mind if I wear this?" He held up my yellow shirt. "I like this one. I like yellow. I had to throw away my yellow waistcoat. It had blood on it."
"Sure, you can wear it." I grinned, ridiculously happy at the idea of him wearing my shirt. Somewhere in my head, I filed away the knowledge that he liked yellow.
We walked to the club. It took a while, but it was a fine morning. Barely anyone was out on the streets, and only a small amount of traffic passed by.
A doorman in a dinner jacket and bowtie opened the door for us and showed us to our table. The lamp in the middle was decorated with tinsel, and the whole room was hung with sparkly streamers. The table napkins were red with holly embroidered in the corners.
I ordered lemonade for Arthur and beer for myself. A few people at other tables were already eating, and more couples filtered in as we were served leek and potato soup with crusty rolls and butter. I wondered if three courses of food would be too much for Arthur, but he ate all of his soup without the bread, and when the traditional Christmas dinner arrived, he waded through it and cleared about three-quarters of his plate.
"I've never eaten so much in my life."
"There's pudding yet." I grinned. "Have you room for any?"
"I don't like Christmas pudding."
"They might have something else."
He shrugged. "You could eat mine."
A waiter arrived to take away our plates and offered us a choice of Christmas pudding or cheesecake. We both had cheesecake and I ate half of Arthur's when he found he couldn't eat any more. We slouched in our seats, stuffed and lazy, as two couples got up and began to dance.
"I really want to dance but I'm not sure I can move." Arthur chuckled.
"We can just sit here for a while." I pulled out my cigarettes and lit two. We smoked and watched the dancers. A few more joined them, moving jauntily around the floor to Christmas songs. Eventually, we got up and danced to a couple of tunes, before I paid the bill and we left.
As I stepped out of the building, Arthur close behind me, we were met by a fine drizzle that had started during our dinner. I stuck up my hand to flag down a passing cab, then cringed when it pulled up and I realised the driver was Wizard. This was it, then. It was too late to change our minds and walk away. I opened the door, waited for Arthur to get in, and followed him.
"Hey, Wizard."
"Hey." He started driving and eyed us in the rear-view mirror. "Where you going?"
I gave him the street address, and he swung the cab around in the street to head back the other way. I wanted to say something but couldn't think of anything suitable. Arthur fidgeted nervously, hands twisted together between his knees. Wizard glanced repeatedly in his mirror as if he were weighing up a stray dog that he wasn't sure was safe to be around. When the car pulled up near our apartment block, we got out and I pulled out my wallet. Wizard got out of the car.
"Go on up." I gestured at the building. Arthur looked at me anxiously, then hurried away.
"Put that away." Wizard waved away my money.
"So." I shrugged.
"You're—" He cleared his throat and avoided looking at me. "One of them."
I shrugged again.
"I don't get it. You were nuts about Betsy."
"That was a long time ago."
"So, time turns you into a fag, does it?" He unsuccessfully tried to suppress a grimace.
I ignored the insult. I'd heard it before, when we'd been hanging out in the diner late at night and occasionally seen an obviously gay, camp guy flouncing around looking for attention.
"I like who I like," I said. "I liked Betsy then, not that it did me any good. I like Arthur now."
"You're living with him?"
"Yeah."
"Shit." Wizard shook his head and gulped as if he were trying not to vomit.
"Well, it's up to you whether you want to speak to me in the future or not. I'm no different. Merry Christmas, Wizard." I turned away and opened the door to the building. He didn't speak.
I was halfway up the stairs when the door opened, and Wizard shouted after me. "Merry Christmas, Trav!"
I grinned, and carried on up to our place, where Arthur was waiting with the door open. Wizard didn't hate me. He'd just avoid thinking about what I got up to with Arthur.
"What did he say?" Arthur asked anxiously as I closed and locked the door.
"Not much. He's okay. A bit disgusted by the idea of his old buddy with another guy, but he'll get over it. It went better than I imagined."
"I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for? I'm with you and if anyone doesn't like it, fuck 'em."
Arthur laughed. "Fuck 'em." He slid his arms around my neck and pressed against me. "Travis, do you want to fuck me?"
I stared at him, surprised. "I didn't think you'd want to."
"I want to try. I've been thinking about it. I feel better since I told you what happened. Like I said, it was a long time ago. That other time when we tried it, I hadn't been touched like that before. Not ever. I could only think about it in a bad way. If I can't do it, we can stop, but I want to try. If you do. I mean, maybe you don't. I—"
"Stop talking." I pressed my finger to his lips. "I want you, more than you can possibly imagine. I just don't want you to be upset or scared. I don't like seeing you like that, especially if I'm the cause."
"I'll be okay."
"Okay." I slipped Arthur's jacket off his shoulders and laid it on the arm of the couch. Then I began to unbutton his shirt—my shirt. It was a little big on him, but he looked good in yellow. He giggled nervously and colour crept across his cheeks. I slid my hands inside the shirt and leaned in to kiss him. Our lips clung and he moaned softly as I slid my tongue into his mouth. I drew back and finished taking off his shirt, then stepped back and began to undress myself.
Arthur opened out the couch and put the sheets on it before finishing taking his clothes off. I didn't take my eyes off him as I dropped my last item of clothing on the floor. I was so hard I ached, and my heart pounded as if I'd been running. This was it. I was both excited and terrified—the latter because I was worried about hurting him or freaking him out, or generally messing up because I'd never done it before either.
He slipped between the sheets and smiled shyly. I turned off the main light, leaving the room lit only by the Christmas tree lights, then joined him in bed.
