Date: Thu, 17 Jun 2010 06:13:27 EDT
From: BertMcK@aol.com
Subject: Dancing on the Tundra, 18

DANCING ON THE TUNDRA
by Bert McKenzie
Copyright 2010

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any real
person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

CHAPTER XVIII

     "But she acts like even she doesn't know," Terry said in
exasperation.

     "Oh, believe me, Virgy knows," Paula replied lecherously.
"We just decided that if we intended for the outside world to
think I'm a man, then we have to think that way too.  In fact,
the only difference is the way we make love.  And that's
personal.  It has nothing to do with the rest of the world."

     Terry had spent several months in the tiny guest room, often
keeping Virginia company when Paula went out on the road.  The
longer he stayed with his friends the more he thought he would
grow to understand and accept them, but in fact the opposite
turned out to be the case.  He became more and more confused as
time went on.  He felt they were living a lie and he was being
pulled in, being made a part of it.  Paula's fears and the very
real threat of rampant, unprotected discrimination, or even
violence made a strong argument for living in the closet.  But
this situation was way beyond any closet.  It was gender fuck
taken to the point of fraud.  And now the two women had actually
set a date, planning a big Catholic wedding at the end of the
month.  As messed up as he thought his life had been in New York,
it was nothing like this.  He longed for the relative simplicity
of dating a married man.

     "Aren't you worried about getting caught?  This has got to
be illegal."

     "Sure it's probably illegal," Paula answered.  "But in most
places being homosexual is illegal.  Who are we hurting?  Are we
hurting each other?  No.  We love each other.  Are we hurting our
neighbors, friends, people I work with?  No.  They think this
typical American couple who've been shacking up together are
finally getting married and doing the right thing.  Are we
hurting the Church?  I don't think so.  Do you realize what St.
Jonathan's is charging for this wedding?  Terry, if you'd find a
nice transvestite and settle down and do the same, you'd
understand."

     "No thanks," he replied.  "If I wanted a woman I'd find a
real one, and I'd be straight.  I'll stick to guys, thank you.
But going with that thought, if you want to be a guy so bad, why
don't you do it.  Can't they do sex change operations in Sweden
or Switzerland or somewhere?"

     "A transsexual?  Not for me.  Virgy loves me the way I am.
She doesn't want a real man.  She wants me."  She had effectively
used his own argument, turning it back on him.  Terry had no
choice but to agree and go along with the situation.

     Meanwhile, as the time slowly passed, Terry tried
unsuccessfully to break into show business.  Paula introduced him
to Margy Quartermain, the lady next door.  She was a locally
aspiring actress and had done some regional theatre, including a
couple of shows at the Guthrie.  She introduced Terry to several
of her friends and everyone seemed very impressed that he had
done an off-Broadway show in New York.  But he still didn't seem
to make any headway in getting a job locally.  As time went on he
began to feel uncomfortable, sponging off of his friends.  Paula
never seemed to mind, but he could detect subtle changes in
Virginia.  Every now and then she would let slip a thinly veiled
hint about his finding a real job or moving into his own place.
His money had long since run out so he was completely at the
mercy of his friends.

     Then, two days before the wedding Terry received a call.  It
was Collin phoning from New York.  "So how are you?  How have you
been?"

     "Fine," Terry replied.  "You call long distance to ask me
how I am?  And how did you get this number anyway?"

     "Your roommate, Wayne, gave it to me.  No I didn't call for
just that, but I do miss you and I wanted to . . ."

     "I've got to go," Terry said quickly.

     "Wait a second," the voice implored.  "I'm supposed to be
attending a convention in Dallas that starts tomorrow."

     "So?"

     "So, I thought maybe I could skip it and fly out to see you
instead."

     Terry's heart raced for a second.  He had missed the tall,
darkly dressed photographer.  "I don't think that's a very good
idea."

     "Terry, I've got a lot to talk to you about.  I've got a
business proposition to discuss with you."

     "Business?"  Terry suddenly thought back to the night in the
hotel room when the phoney casting director tried to buy sex.  "I
think you've got the wrong guy, but maybe if you called Marvin
Williams he could find someone for you."

     "This is serious.  It has nothing to do with sex."

     "Then what kind of business?"  Now he was slightly
intrigued.

     "Give me your address.  I'll see you in the morning."  Terry
finally complied and Collin hung up.

     "What was that all about?" Paula asked.  Terry had been
talking on the living room phone and she had heard his side of
the phone call.

     "It looks like I'm going to have company tomorrow."  Terry
proceeded to relate the gist of the conversation.

     "Great," Paula replied.  "Now you'll have a date to our
wedding reception.  And at the very least you might get a good
fuck out of the guy."  She winked at him.

     The next morning around ten a cab pulled up in front of the
house and Collin climbed out dressed in a black three piece suit
with a black shirt and black tie.  He paid the driver, took his
bags and walked up to the door.  Terry answered it and let him
in, noticing that he was carrying his suitcases.  He apparently
assumed he could stay with Terry.  "Maybe I should have found a
hotel room?" he asked noticing the look on Terry's face.

     "Nonsense," Paula said, coming to the door to meet the new
arrival.  "There's always room for a friend of Terry's.  You must
be Collin.  I'm Paul Brown.  Welcome."  She shook hands with the
man and brought him into the living room.  "Terry, take your
friend's bags to the guest room.  You don't mind sharing a double
bed with Terry, do you Collin?  Can I get you something to
drink?"  Terry watched in surprise as Paula guided Collin into
the house and made him totally at home.  There was nothing to do
but pick up the suitcases and take them to what had been his
bedroom for the last several months.

     "So Terry tells me you're a photographer," Paula said,
making polite conversation.  "I wish I'd known you were coming.
I'm getting married tomorrow.  We could use a good photographer,
someone we know.  My girl picked some guy out of the yellow
pages.  God only knows what we'll get."

     "Well, I do have my Nikon," Collin offered.  "If you want, I
could snap some extra shots, but I don't want to step on any toes
if you've already hired someone."

     Terry returned to find Paula and the new arrival getting on
perfectly.  "Great news," Paula said as he came into the room.
"Your buddy's going to take some pictures at the wedding for us."

     "Do you think maybe you could . . ." Terry began, giving
Paula a pleading look.

     "Oh, right.  I guess you two love birds want to be alone.
I've got to go do some shopping anyway.  Enjoy yourselves.  Just
remember that Virgy will be back around four to pick up her
things.  She's spending the night with Cynthia.  Can't let me see
the bride before the wedding and all that crap."  Paula grabbed
her car keys and left.

     "It sounds like we have several hours," Collin said with an
easy smile.  "Shall we get naked and do it on the dining room
table?"

     Terry glared at him.  He didn't find the joke amusing.  "You
said you had a business proposition."

     Collin stood and slipped off his jacket.  "Your friend Wayne
said you were staying with a couple of lesbians.  Who's this
Paul?  He sounds straight to me."

     "He's not a guy.  Her real name is Paula," Terry replied.

     "Go on.  That's no woman.  I can tell the difference."
Collin smiled as if he thought he were the victim of a practical
joke.

     "I don't care if you believe me," Terry said, rising.

     "Are you still mad at me?" Collin asked, taking a step
toward him.

     "There's nothing to be mad about," the blond man replied
distantly as he stared at his former lover.

     "Terry, I still love you."  Collin had a slight catch in his
voice as he spoke the words.  Somehow this made the difference,
convincing Terry of the truth to his statement.

     "Collin," Terry began as he started to shake his head.
Before he managed to get anything else out the photographer was
holding him in a tight embrace, tears dampening Terry's collar.
After a minute or two, Terry pushed him back.  "Collin, I love
you too, but I won't be hurt and used."  He had tears in his own
eyes in response to his lover.

     "I would never hurt you," Collin protested, looking down
into Terry's blue eyes.  "Not intentionally."

     "But it hurts me to have to share you with some woman I
don't even know.  It hurt me very much when I needed you in New
York and you acted as if you hardly knew me."

     "So you're saying for us to be together I have to leave
her?"

     It was Terry's turn to be uncomfortable now.  He wanted the
man desperately.  "I'm not trying to break up your marriage," he
replied.  "I'm just saying I don't think I can handle this kind
of relationship."

     "Terry, even if I got a divorce we could never be totally
open.  Do you know what would happen to us if we walked through
Central Park holding hands?"

     "Now you sound just like Paula.  This is 1975 for Christ's
sake.  We'd probably get mugged like any other couple walking
through Central Park."

     "The truth," Collin said as he sat on the overstuffed couch
and began to remove his tie.  "I love my wife's money.  She's
rich.  She set me up in business and I'm afraid of what will
happen if I leave her.  She knows I don't love her.  We haven't
had sex in over two years, but we still pretend to be the perfect
couple."

     "Does she know you like guys?" Terry asked.

     "I don't know.  I don't think so.  But I know she suspects
me of having affairs.  And I know she's slept with other men."

     "How do you know?"

     "She told me," Collin answered.  He gazed up at Terry with a
sad, lost look, like a puppy in a pet store window begging to be
taken home.

     "Come on.  I'll show you to our room," Terry finally said,
holding out his hand.

                            *   *   *

     When they had finished making love Terry rolled over and
sighed.  He listened to the deep, steady breathing of the man
beside him, who had obviously fallen asleep.  Terry thought of
what they had just done and smiled.  It had been a long time
since he had sex, not since leaving New York.  And it was always
good with Collin.  The man was gentle, but could be passionate,
evoking feelings, desires and physical pleasures Terry didn't
know he could experience.  The sex was really good.  But he loved
Collin for more than just sex.  The man was fun to be with.
Terry felt special whenever he was around.  The only problem was
the wife.  If Collin wasn't married Terry was sure they could
have a very happy life together.  But the image of the woman he
had met at the photography studio kept leaping to the forefront
of his mind's eye.  He could tell Collin wouldn't willingly leave
her.  The man was too weak to stand on his own.  He had grown
used to her money.  But Collin's admissions about his marriage
and his wife's other affairs did a lot to assuage Terry's
concerns.  He no longer felt like a home-wrecker, sneaking around
and seducing the poor married man.  Now he felt as if Collin
really needed him.  And after having spent nearly half a year
with Paula and Viginia he was ready to move.  He would be willing
to return the New York with this man if he only had a job there.

     "Collin . . . Collin, wake up," he said as he shook his
sleeping lover.

     "What . . . what's wrong?" the man asked as he stretched and
tried to go back to sleep.

     "You said something about a business proposition."

     "Later," Collin protested sleepily and tried to bury his
head under the pillow.

     "No, tell me now.  What about it?"  The photographer mumbled
a response but it was muffled by the pillow.  Terry snatched it
away and demanded he repeat himself.

     "Okay," the man said wearily, slowly sitting up.  "I thought
maybe you could let me be your agent.  I'm not a professional or
anything, but I've done a lot of work for the right people and I
have some connections.  I could try sending your photos around
and I might be able to get you something."

     "Do you really think you could?  You really think you can
find me a job?"

     "I can sure as hell do better than that sleaze you signed on
with," Collin replied confidently.

     "Oh," Terry said, a worry suddenly crossing his mind.  "What
about my contract with Bremen and Williams?"

     "No problem," his friend answered.  "You just have to use a
different name so he can't touch you.  Besides, if he tried you
could sick the cops on him and his little ring of male
prostitutes."

     "Well I never much cared for Rock Michaels," Terry admitted.

     "Hey, what's wrong with your own name?"

     "Terry Michaelson?"

     Collin had a pensive look.  "Too long.  It doesn't flow."
He thought for a moment, then lit up with excitement.  "What's
wrong with Terry Michaels?"

     "Great," Terry replied and gave Collin a hug.  "I guess I've
got a new agent.  Now let's get dressed.  We've got a wedding
rehearsal to attend and I guess you're going to be taking
pictures."

                            *   *   *

     The wedding went off without a hitch.  Terry did have quite
a battle with his conscience when the priest asked if anyone knew
any reason why the couple should not be joined in holy matrimony.
But in the end he kept his mouth shut.  After all, he believed
that Paula and Virginia really loved each other, and so why
shouldn't they have a chance to be happy and to have their
relationship validated by the wedding ceremony.  The only thing
that continued to bother him was the question in his mind of the
legal ramifications to the situation.  If at some time in the
future, anyone would find out that Paul was really Paula, what
would happen?  Could she be thrown in jail for fraud?  After all,
she had lied about her sex to obtain a marriage license.  And
Terry had gone along with this lie.  That more or less made him
an accomplice to her fraud.

     Virginia had her whole family in attendance.  They all
apparently thought Paul was a very nice young man.  Her mother
and father were actually very relieved when Virginia began dating
this young trucker.  Before that they had worried that their
daughter might actually be a lesbian.  She had several brief
affairs with women which they always did their best to
discourage.

     Of course Paula had no family at the ceremony.  She told
everyone that her parents were dead.  Terry had a tense moment
when one of Virginia's relatives asked him about Paula's family.
"They live next door to my folks," he said, then quickly amended
his statement.  "I mean, they used to live there until they died.
Now they're dead so they don't live there anymore.  I guess they
don't live anywhere anymore since they're dead.  They died, you
know."  The lady who was talking with him looked at him strangely
and quickly moved away, finding someone else to talk to.  He felt
really uncomfortable lying for Paula, but at least it was better
than having to face the consequences if he told the truth.

     Once the ceremony was over, everyone filed downstairs to the
church basement where the reception was held.  There was a lot of
dancing and drinking and food.  Collin kept busy snapping photos
of the happy couple and their family and friends.  Terry felt
strangely out of place and tended to keep in the background until
Virginia finally insisted that he dance with her.  She was
definitely out of place on the dance floor, but Terry used all
his skill and expertise to make her look good.  Afterwards Collin
managed to snag him and they sat at a table to talk.  "I'd sure
like to have the next dance with you," the photographer said as
he looked through his lens at Terry.

     "I'm afraid we'd be a bit out of place here," Terry
whispered back, covering his face with his hand.

     Collin simply grinned, putting down his camera.  "If your
friends Virgy and Paula can . . ."  Terry kicked him hard under
the table to shut him up before anyone could possibly overhear
them.

     Finally the party began to wind down.  Collin and Terry
managed to hitch a ride over to the house with one of Virginia's
sisters.  They then quickly packed and were ready to go by the
time the newlyweds arrived to change before leaving on their
honeymoon.

     "Well, I guess this is it," Terry said as he hugged Paula.
They were standing in her front yard waiting for Virginia who was
still changing.  Paula had already switched back out of the black
tux and into slacks and a sports coat, complete with white shirt
and tie.  She looked every inch the dapper gentleman waiting for
his wife.

     "Are you sure about what you're doing?" Paula asked.  "Are
you sure you want to go back to New York with him?"  She nodded
toward the house where Collin was packing up his photographic
equipment.

     "No, but is anybody ever really sure about anything?"

     "Yes," his friend replied quickly.  "Yes, sometimes.  I'm
sure about this."

     About that time Virginia came out of the house wearing a
smart red suit, jacket, skirt and frilly blouse.  She ran to the
car, tossing her makeup case in the back seat, then came back to
give Terry a hug.  "Now you be careful in the big city," she said
as she kissed his cheek.  "I've just gotten to know you.  I don't
want to read in the newspaper about you being murdered or
anything."

     "I'll be okay," Terry admitted.  "You take care, too."

     "Oh, I'll have my hands full taking care of this big lug,
keeping him out of trouble."  She tousled Paula's hair.  Then
they climbed into the Oldsmobile, waved and pulled away from the
curb.

     Terry turned around to see Collin standing a few feet behind
him, snapping pictures of the retreating car.  Once it was out of
range Collin began to refocus on Terry, clicking the shutter.
"What are you doing?" Terry asked.

     "I gotta use up this film," Collin said innocently.

                            *   *   *

     Back in New York Wayne threw a welcome home party for Terry.
Just as he had always hoped for, Wayne held it on the roof of
their building.  Terry was a little uncomfortable because
everyone who came to the party had to troop through the bathroom
and his bedroom in order to reach the roof, the only access being
the doorway beside his bed.  It was an extremely warm, early
spring so the outdoor event was a great idea.  In a short time
the roof was crowded with men, Wayne having invited every friend,
acquaintance, and gay man he had ever met.  "They're all yours
for the picking, honey," he said as he leaned beside Terry on the
low wall at the edge of the building and waved his hands
magnanimously to the crowd.

     "Thanks," Terry said, taking a sip of his drink.  "But I
think I'll stick with what I've got for a while."

     "The married man?"  Wayne rolled his eyes and shook his
head.  "And just what have you got?"

     Terry was at a loss.  He wanted to answer his friend, but he
couldn't.  What did he have?  He had a married man who was really
great, when he was around.  The problem was, he quite frequently
had to run home to Felicia, leaving Terry just when he was needed
the most.

     "Dance with me," a young, red headed boy, no more than
nineteen or twenty asked as he came up and grabbed Terry by the
hand.

     "I don't . . ." Terry started to protest.

     "Go on, have fun," Wayne encouraged, giving Terry a playful
shove that sent him into the arms of the red head.  "Don't worry
about me.  I can fend for myself.  And speaking of fending . . ."
Wayne suddenly let forth a whoop.  "Girl, get over hear!"  He
dashed off to meet someone who had caught his attention.

     "So how about it?" the young man asked as he kept his arms
wrapped tightly around Terry's torso.

     "How about what?"

     "How about that dance?  I know you can dance; I've seen
you."

     "Seen me?  Where?" Terry asked as he allowed himself to be
pulled toward where Wayne had set up the stereo speakers.

     "'Six Months on the Floor with Spiders.'  You were
brilliant."

     "You saw that?" Terry laughed.  "I can't believe anyone
would admit to paying to see that."

     "I didn't pay.  My uncle took me.  He paid.  But I sure
remember you."  The boy dropped his eyes to Terry's crotch and
licked his lips.  "But you don't remember me, do you?"

     "No, I'm sorry.  I don't usually remember people in the
audience," Terry said as he and the boy began to move in rhythm
to the loud disco beat coming from the speakers.

     "I met you one other time in the Cavern," the red head said.
"We went to the back room and I did this."  The boy suddenly
dropped to his knees and grabbed Terry's crotch.

     "I remember," Terry said, jumping back and away from the
young man.  He suddenly remembered his one experience in a back
room, and now he recognized the red head for the same man who had
given him his first sexual experience in the big city.

     The red head stood up and came close, wrapping his arms
around Terry and resting his head on Terry's chest.  "I'd sure
like to do it again," he said.  "Ever since I saw you dancing in
that show, I've been thinking about you, thinking about how much
I want to suck you again, or have you fuck me."

     "Gee, I don't know," Terry said, feeling a nervous
apprehension.

     "Can't we go downstairs and use your bedroom?"

     "No," Terry replied quickly.  "No, my bedroom's the one at
the foot of the stairs.  You have to go through it to get up
here."

     "Well, what about your roommate?" the boy asked.  "Doesn't
he have a bedroom?"

     "Yeah," Terry answered hesitantly.  "But I don't know about
this."  He remembered what had occurred at the backroom.  The
young red head was really very good, and Terry would enjoy taking
him to bed.

     "Let's go," the man said, pulling him toward the roof door.
They slipped down the stairs and through the apartment.  As they
did so, Terry witnessed two naked men screwing in his bed,
totally oblivious to the people walking by.  The bathroom was
also occupied by a line of about five men waiting to use the
toilet, on which sat an older, grey haired gentleman.  Terry and
his new friend stepped out of the bathroom, into the kitchen and
Terry led him across the room to Wayne's bedroom.  He looked
nervously inside, afraid that he might find it occupied as well,
but fortunately it was empty.  Terry closed the door firmly
behind them, then turned to his red headed companion.

     The young man had already stripped off his sweater and shirt
and was working on unfastening his pants.  In a moment he stepped
out of his underwear and climbed onto the bed.  "Get naked and
come join me," he ordered.  The boy's body was beautiful, and
Terry was definitely getting excited.  He thought briefly of
Collin, but Collin wasn't there.  Collin was probably with his
wife.  Terry shrugged off the fleeting feelings of guilt, hastily
stripped and climbed into bed with his attractive young friend.

                            *   *   *

     "So where's Terry?" Collin asked when he finally found Wayne
on the crowded roof.

     "What are you doing here?" the black man asked the man in
black.  "I thought you had a date with the little woman."

     Collin ignored the slam and asked again about his sometimes
boyfriend.  "I've got great news for him," the photographer
beamed.

     "You're either getting a divorce or moving to Alaska," the
black man guessed.

     "I've found him a job, a real professional job."

     "Doing what?" Wayne asked suspiciously.

     "He's a dancer.  I got him a job dancing."

     "Where?"

     "Who's his agent here?" Collin asked, beginning to get
miffed.

     "You may think you're his agent, but I'm the boy's mother,"
Wayne retorted.  "Now, where?"

     "At the Chartreuse Parrot.  It's a . . ."

     "I know what it is.  It's a drag show/strip joint.  He ain't
gonna like it."

     "It's a professional job and it pays very well," the
photographer defended.  "It's dancing and it's in show business."

     "Yeah, so's sweeping up elephant shit after the circus.
Come on," Wayne said, grabbing Collin by the black sleeve of his
cardigan sweater.  "You're his agent.  You might as well see him
perform, only you ain't gonna like this show."  The two of them
went downstairs, through the bathroom, into the kitchen and up to
the closed bedroom door.  Wayne grabbed the knob, threw the door
open, pushed Collin through and yelled, "Surprise!"