Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2006 20:39:26 +0200
From: Julian Obedient <julian.obedient@gmail.com>
Subject: A Second Chance 2

It really did not need to be New Orleans. Inside, it hardly was. There
were identical hotel rooms painted Dresden green. There were long
corridors gussied up to look like a street lined with bistros. There
were Grand Ballrooms, one painted a butter color; the other, avocado.
There were silvered hot plates at long buffets. But outside, it was
New Orleans. She left the hotel and walked around the quarter glad
that it had been preserved.

Well, I'll be.

It was Richard Spurge from Harper's new religious division.

You still mad at me? he said falling in step beside her.

I wasn't mad at you, she said. I was just bothered that you were doing
that. I remember you from college, Richard. Bertrand Russell: Why I Am
Not A Christian. Thick paperback. Remember? It goes against everything
you once...I mean...

She stopped, blushed, stumbled verbally but picked herself up.

You're, I don't know. You could do better. You... Books are for
opening people's minds, not closing them. So I got angry because you
know that, or you once did. And now, you're acting like you don't know
it anymore.

You know, you're beautiful, he said.

When I get angry.

No, when you get thoughtful and analytic. No, I mean it. I know what
you're saying. But you don't understand. Sometimes you have to go
where they put you, or you don't get to go anywhere and you won't even
have a home to stay in if all you want to do is just stay home.

She shook her head. Darkness and concern showed themselves in the
furrows she made in her brow.

Do you want an anti-depressant?

What?

Do you want an anti-depressant? It's quite mild. I couldn't go on
sometimes without. Might do you good.


With you concord is an event within discord, she said carrying a bag
of groceries into the house up the flagstone path.

Andrew preceded her by a few steps carrying the heavier bag and
fumbling for his keys.

I want a relationship, she said, where, when discord happens -- I know
it has to -- discord is an event inside concord, surrounded by it.

What are you saying? he said, pushing open the back door into the kitchen,

I'm not going to go on like this? she said, standing by the table upon
which she had just set down her bag.

What do you want to happen? He hesitated to ask. He was ashamed of the
passivity he felt himself locked into.

I want you to leave. He looked impassively into the void.

What about the kids? It was not insistent. It was a murmur.

When have you ever cared about them? she said reproachfully. She still
stood by the table, not moving. He wished she would so he could move.
It was as if he could not move unless she released him.

And now you're using them to make yourself look pitiable, she continued.

She spat the last words. There was nothing you could say. But
everything was off. She was right. What could he argue? Discord was at
the center of their marriage.

Oh, don't look like that, she said. I won't buy it. I know you're just
waiting to go. But you're too guilty to say what you want. People like
you are dangerous.


You're somewhere, Max said, rubbing Andrew's shoulders.

Yeah, I sure am.

Tell me. What's going on? Where are you?

I'm on Thirty-second Street.

I don't understand.

I'm living in a hotel on Thirty-second Street.

Not at home?

I have no home.

Silence.

Miriam kicked me out.

What will you do?

I don't know. The only thing that keeps me going is work.

Thanks, Harrison said, teasingly.

This doesn't feel real, Max. I'm sorry. I don't know. It's like kids
playing follow the leader.

You mean that?

Half and half. I mean it feels good but...

But now there's nothing keeping you from making it real.

You mean?

What do you mean?

Are you talking about us living together?

Do you want to?

Me moving in here?

There's a spare room, although I think we should share the bedroom.

But I'm supposed to feel bad.

And you don't?

May I be honest?

Max grunted.

The thought of living with you excites me very much, of being that
close to you. It's a feeling I've only experienced fleetingly. I never
thought it was really meant for me.

That means you don't have to go home. You can sleep here tonight.

I'm free.

You're home.


Richard Spurge took Miriam to a small restaurant on Mercer Street
where they ate tender octopus and delicately spiced stuffed red
peppers.

I can't believe it, she said, fingering the stem of her glass of 1988 Pommard.

Can't believe what? Richard said.

That you do the kind of work you do.

Oh, no, Spurge laughed, hoping to insure he could keep the subject
floating rather than have it crash down all around them and blow up
like a bomb.

Don't worry, she said. I could get used to going out like this.

He took her hand from across the table and put her fingers to his lips.

I hope so, he said.

On Spring Street, she asked him to put her in a cab. When he
protested, whimperingly pursing his lower lip, she said it was not
that she would not sleep with him but that she would not sleep with
him tonight.


The future has already happened and we are moving towards it, Andrew
said, passing the joint back to Max.

We make the future and guide it towards us, Max contradicted him and
then took a toke and held his breath.

Oh, I don't know, Andrew said. Does it matter? He turned and looked at
Harrison. The sky was dark and heavy. It was sure to snow.

Have you heard from Miriam?

She does not answer my calls, and I'd just as soon not talk to her anymore.

The children?

It's an expense I can bear.

I mean not seeing them.

They're ok. Richard's a nice man. He'll take good care of them, and
with the monthly stipend I send plus the investments I've made for
them, they'll each be able to go to college, and more.

So now you are twenty-one again.

Eighteen.


The Web was full of college students. Billie Holliday was on the juke
box singing "It Was Just One of Those Things."

Derek was nervous. He was not comfortable standing in a bar hoping
people would look at him and afraid, at the same time, that they
would.

You have not been doing this for long, Max said to him, touching his
palm to the boy's cheek.

No, sir, Derek said with a mid-western accent.

Don't be nervous. You're very hot, Max said, pressing his palm against
the young man's chest.

Derek blushed and dropped his eyes.

Don't disappear, Max said, his palm dancing over the area of the boy's genitals.

Say thank you, he said, as he cupped them in his palm.

Thank you, Derek said, suppressing a giggle.

Do you like him? Max asked.

He's very pretty, Andrew said. I want to kiss him.

I want to kiss him, too, Max said.

And he brought the boy to him and gave him a kiss full of his power.
It made Derek shudder with desire. He wanted to be opened.

When Max let him go, Andrew did not wait but took his mouth with a
delicate reach of his fingers and brought it to his and kissed him
dreamily and long and languorously until the boy was helplessly dizzy
with desire.

Come, they said, leading him out of the bar.

Who are you? Harrison asked Derek once they were on the street and
heading to his penthouse on Twenty-third Street.

I was born in Kentucky. My father is a colonel in the army. My mother
was a nurse but became a full-time wife. We moved around, but we spent
the last two years in Arizona. I'm studying theater at Columbia. Does
that say enough?

Enough for now. Harrison smiled with a wink. Theater!

Andrew took his other hand and kissed it gently, the upper side and
then the open palm.

In bed, they stroked him and gazed at the opalescence of his flesh,
and lost themselves in the voluptuous innocence of his fresh,
spring-young body.

Andrew put his mouth to the boy's and felt swept towards him by the
current of his breath. The ocean of his blood beat on the shore of his
desire and with his kisses he swam inside Derek.

Derek held on to him and writhed, lost in the amplitude of his own sensations.

As he writhed like that, Harrison slid one hand beneath his jeans and
slowly worked one finger into his granite ass. With the other hand he
went under his t shirt and felt the warmth radiate from his chest. He
took hold of one nipple between his thumb and first finger and slowly
and gently began to knead it. As his finger drew deeper into Derek, he
increased the force with which he rubbed his nipples.

The boy saw the cloudless blue sky of Arizona rolling forever in
translucent azure billows through the space he felt himself filling .


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