dontravis.com blog post #630
Hope
everyone survived Turkey Day and got a kick out of my oddball story last week.
Try to do better this week with another two-part short story.
****
BOY
FOR SALE
Colin Ragner didn’t like the
looks of the place. Side street bistros unsettled him. A middlin’ sized sign with
dancing lights identified it as the Lost Soul’s Bar and Grill. He’d stood in
the night shadows across the street for a quarter of an hour and watched the
traffic. Men and women—and some individuals hard to pigeonhole—arrived as
singles and departed as couples. If the joint wasn’t a gay bar, it was at least
gay friendly. Not his kind of place.
Colin sighed. Didn’t matter.
That’s where he had to go. He’d kept his mark waiting for fifteen minutes, now
he needed to go inside. Tossing the cigarette he hadn’t smoked, just toyed with
by rolling across his lips, he stepped into the street, avoiding a puddle.
Rained most of the afternoon, merely overcast tonight.
The blue door swung open at
the touch of his fingers. Oiled and balanced. Heavy and expensive. The entryway
was properly dark. Management wanted just enough light to make everyone look
good. Patrons wouldn’t see blotches and blemishes on their tryst for the night until
lights went on in someone’s apartment later. Confirmed his impression. A hookup
joint. Classy one, though.
A hefty black man stood
unobtrusively near the door. Muscle on the lookout for hellions. Apparently,
Colin didn’t register on his trouble meter. The man nodded courteously and
allowed him through.
The bar—long, gleaming, and
probably ebony—stretched along the right side of the room while the seating
area opened to the left. No booths. Tables only. Linen covers. He’d hate to pay
their laundry bill. The band stage stood vacant at the far end of the big room.
Probably didn’t have live entertainment until weekends. There’d be a cover
charge if musicians were performing, and no one had collected a penny when he
entered.
A decent crowd ranging from
black tie and gowns to poplin and denims sat around the place. Only six or so
occupied stools at the bar. He spotted his mark among them and understood the
meeting venue. The guy was blond and good looking, the kind who could lounge
around for half a day waiting for the right hookup. Briefly, he wondered if the
young man was really gay. Didn’t really matter. Colin knew a big sissy who
could take on the entire Redskins line one at a time and be standing at the end…
be it fighting or fornicating.
Colin took a seat at this end
of the bar. Let the guy come to him. Be interesting to see his approach.
Blondie had already spotted him, of that he was certain. He’d seen a flicker in
the guy’s eyes in the big mirror that ran behind the bar.
His mark was not patient. As
soon as Colin was served, he picked up his highball and moved down beside him.
“Wagner?” An error or checking for accuracy.
“Ragner,” he said.
“Right, Ragner. I’m Tolliver.
Thought for a while I was being stood up. But you were just being careful,
right?”
“Could be.”
“You have what I’m looking
for?”
Colin caught a glint of humor
in the blue eyes. Gay. Definitely. Okay, that fit.
“Course not,” he answered.
“Not about to bring that kind of money to a joint like this. Got more sense
than that.”
The look of amusement
deepened. “Oh, you want to get me off to yourself, do you?”
Colin played the game. “Didn’t
figure you’d object to a hotel room.”
The grin turned into a broad
smile. “Yours or mine?”
“Mine, I think.”
Tolliver raised his voice a
bit. “So long as it has a bed.”
Playing to an audience, most
likely. If not, there might be trouble in the offing.
“Well, Mr. Colin Ragner, I
haven’t eaten, and they have a great menu here. Let’s take a table and order
before we go to your place. On you, of course.”
Colin frowned. “I didn’t come
to this joint for a meal. I came to do business. You have the kid?”
“Oh, you’re anxious to see our
boy, aren’t you. He is a delicious handful, I can tell you.”
Colin lifted his head. “He’s
okay?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t sell
you damaged goods. Barton—that’s his name, you know—is one good-looking kid.
Handsome of face and form, as they say. Just the right age. Eighteen. Gay but
not a fem. Matter of fact, he’s downright macho. Off hand, I’d say the price is
right.”
“Okay, then let’s stop screwing
around and go get him.”
“After dinner. My first name’s
Kevin, by the way. You can contain yourself long enough to dine with me, can’t
you? Besides, you’re a hunky dude, Colin. I want everyone to see what a catch I
made this evening. Jason, that’s the bartender, he’s already giving me a thumbs
up. He might ask for your phone number before we leave. Not terribly handsome,
but a body to die for.”
“Keep your dirty mouth shut,
Tolliver.”
“Touchy, aren’t we?” The blond
stood. “Let’s take a table now. I’m in the mood for a grilled salmon steak.
With asparagus and sweet potato, I think.
Colin gritted his teeth and
trailed the man to a table in the middle of the room. At least, the guy didn’t
swish when he walked.
****
What’s going
on here? Who is Colin Ragner, anyway? He obviously doesn’t cotton to gays, but
he’s buying a boy? Either the guy’s a monster, or there’s something going on we
don’t understand yet.
Now my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say... so say it! And for those of you who also read Mark Wildyr's blog, don't forget it was my mantra first!
Please check out my BJ Vinson murder mystery series starting with The Zozobra Incident and ending with The Cutie Pie Murders. I may be biased, but I think they'd make great Christmas gifts for the right person.
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See you next Thursday.
Don
New posts every Thursday morning at 6:00 a.m. US Mountain time.
