The People in Rossford

Going out

The sheet around his waist, Paul had climbed into the chair, knees to his chest, and watched as Kirk knuckled his eyes and stretched in the bed, blinking up at him.

Kirk yawned out a: “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Kirk.”

“Come here,” Kirk gestured for Paul. As Paul approached, Kirk held up a hand, took a sip of water, gargled, swallowed it, took another sip and swallowed again. Sitting up he pulled Paul’s mouth to him and kissed him, and Paul came down to his knees so they could kiss on the edge of the bed better.

“I thought you might be angry,” Paul said.

“At what?”

“At last night. At everything. We said we would just hold each other. It went a little further.”

“It turned into what we wanted,” Kirk moved into the bed and patted it so Paul, in his boxer shorts and tee shirt could climb in with him.

“It’s just,” said Paul, “there are times when people take advantage. When your head is clear you say, I want this and that’s all. And then lust gets in the way, and suddenly you’re doing far more than you planned. And then when it’s over you’re angry. You hate the person, or yourself.”

“Do you feel that way?”

“No,” Paul said suddenly. “But I thought you might.”

“I’ve never felt that way,” Kirk said, shaking his head. “With anyone. First we held each other, and I wanted that. And then we kissed, and I wanted that. And then we decided not to told anything back, and I wanted that too.”

“Well, so did I.”

“When you talk about all of this shame and guilt and… all of that,” Kirk said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, I know it’s real. It’s explains some things. About you. But I haven’t been there.”

“I think that’s part of why I love you.”

“You said it.”

“Said what?”

“You said you loved me.”

“So I did,” said Paul. “I don’t know the rules. Is there some sort of time lag before I say it? Or a special condition.”

“The condition is that it has to be true.”

Paul grinned from the side of his mouth and said, “Now that I’m a commoner so to speak, I’m starting to get that most people take a long time to know if anything’s true. I used to go to the websites: Guy McClintock, Rick Brody, Wet Times—”

“Wet Times?”

“Yes,” said Paul raising an eyebrow and lifting a finger. “And the sites lied, and in interviews we lied, and some of the pictures lied too. But you know, there was something very real about the business. I never once approached a guy and said, ‘I’m starting to have feelings for you. Or, let’s see where doing these next few movies takes our relationship. Or, let’s pretend we love each other. Let’s even say it in bed.

“That was one of the reasons I stopped being an escort. They always wanted you… to lie. Call you daddy, call you uncle…”

“I do know what you’re talking about,” Kirk said suddenly. “I know just what you’re talking about now. Except the uncle and the daddy part.”

Paul barked out a laugh, and Kirk remembered:

“A very long time ago I loved someone. I told him that, and even though I think he loved me that ended it all. He just left. And that was the last time. And I’ve sat in relationships for a long time, and no one ever told me they loved me. I think, sometimes, it would have been better to just screw around than to devote myself to one person for weeks, sometimes months, and think love would come. Or love would be confessed. But it never came and it was never said. And now you say it, just like that.”

“Because I’ve had years of experience knowing what it’s like to care for someone. I think I cared for most of the guys I was with. I care for Noah a lot. Whenever we did movies together, I cared for him, but I knew it wasn’t love. I mean, it was love. It is love, but it’s not… Does it sound silly if I say that when I thought we wouldn’t be together I felt as if when you came along you had a part of me? You had this part of me I always sort of knew belonged to someone else, and then there it was and we fit?”

“No,” Kirk shook his head. “No, it’s why I’d buy a house with you and raise Vietnamese orphans.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me?”

Kirk took Paul’s head and pressed it into his chest, saying, “I love you is the my way of saying I love you.”

“What,” Brian whispered to Tom as he entered Fenn’s office, “are they doing?”

Lee was at the computer, typing furiously and swearing, and Fenn was walking back and forth saying: “Do we need the password and the PIN number, or just one?”

“We need the PIN number. He’s got his password in already.”

“Lazy bastard.”

“And if we were at the ATM, then we’d just need the PIN.”

“Well, do you have his social security?”

“No. Where’s his wallet?”

Fenn opened the desk and dug through it. “Here it is.”

He handed the card to Lee and Lee typed it in, swearing, “Damn! I’ll use his birthday. Or the year he was born.”

“Guys,” Brian said.

Fenn continued: “Well, what about, you know now, how they have month and the year. His says 1967 and he was born in… er, April. Try zero four sixty-seven.”

Lee nodded approvingly and typed it.

“Damn.”

“We will be here a very long time.”

“Guys!” Brian said a little louder.

Lee looked at him irritatedly, Fenn said, “Yes?”

“What are you trying to do?”

Fenn toyed with an answer, but Lee said, forthrightly, “Break into a dead man’s bank account.”

“Should I ask… the circumstances?”

“No, you should not,” Fenn said.

“Well,” Brian went on after a pause, approaching the computer. “I was a math major back in college.”

“I thought you were a music major.”

“I was in math and music. They’re related. Music is very mathematical. If you’re not a dumb music major, which lots are. I thought I was going to be a math teacher.”

“I don’t get it,” Lee said.

Fenn did. “There are only so many numbers. I mean, there are only ten.”

“There are infinite numbers,” Lee said. “I’m a playwright, not a jackass.”

“Yes,” Brian said, taking the seat Fenn yielded. “But they are made up of one through nine with zero thrown in. Only ten numbers, and only so many combinations. The combininations are not as infinite as people think. Or, rather, most peoples minds are not as infinite as the combinations. Let me crack this.”

Lee looked at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

“Lee!” Fenn said.

Brian said, “Because I want to help for once, and because if it’s illegal, it’s a little bit bad, and I can’t seem to help being a little bit bad. Now move over, Lee.”

Lee grumbled and Brian sat at the keyboard, a strange light in his dark eyes, a weird smile on his handsome face as he began typing.

“By the way,” Brian said, “it’s actually a PIN, not a PIN number. PIN means personal identification number, so you’re just being redundant when you call it PIN number.”

“What about when I call you a pinhead?” Lee said.

But before Brian could answer this insult, Todd burst into the room and Fenn said, “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Burst into places,” said Lee. “Every time I see you I feel like you’re about to announce World War Three.”

“Adele’s going on a date tonight,” Todd said.

“Good for her,” Fenn said.

“With a man she met in the grocery store. And all she knows about him is his name.”

“Well, now Todd,” Lee said. “Everyone can’t end up with a man they’ve known their entire life.”

“Is he Black or white?” said Fenn.

“She doesn’t know.”

“She’s getting more and more fucked up everyday,” Fenn commented.

“She says he could be anything. You know, like how I’m Lebanese.”

“I’m Mexican,” Tom volunteered.

“You’re white,” Fenn and Lee said together.

“My Dad was Mexican. From Oaxaca.”

From the computer, Brian added, “I am actually of Portuguese decent,” and kept typing.

“Great,” said Lee.

“So I’m going to tail her and this Davis guy tonight,” Todd said. “To make sure she’s safe. And I thought you’d go with me.”

“No.”

“Isn’t Portugal in Europe?” Lee said.

“Yes,” Brian said. “On the Iberian peninsula with Spain.”

“Well, then you’re still white.”

“Yes, I guess so—” Brian said testily. “But my mom’s family was from Puerto Rico and—shit!”

They all looked down at him.

Looking up with a victorious smile, Brian folded his arms across his chest and reported: “I’ve got it.”

“Now what is it?”

They all looked at him, then at each other. Tom looked to Fenn, Fenn looked to Lee, Lee looked at Tom and Tom looked at Todd who looked back at Fenn. They looked at each other again.

“I mean,” said Brian, as Lee moved to the screen and whistled. “Who is this guy? Why are we—?”

“We?” Lee said.

“Why are you,” Brian amended, “digging around in his account?”

Again the silence, and then Brian said, “You know what? It’s not my business. I don’t care.” He stood up, making a show of big heartedness. “I said I’d find the PIN, which is 3245, by the way, and I did. That’s all I wanted. I don’t need to know any more.”

“About five months ago we found a half a million dollars in Guy McClintock’s house after the police had just raided it. We put the money in a bank account in the Caymans, and then the man who the money belonged to, who turned out to be a low level ganster came after us and we killed him. And now we’re taking what’s left of his funds.”

They all looked at Fenn. Brian blinked.

“He earned the knowledge. Without him we’d still be clicking away at that keyboard.”

“Adele doesn’t even know,” Lee said. “Your sister doesn’t know,” he said to Fenn.

“Tara knows. Paul knows. Noah knows and that’s risky as hell. Besides, now Layla and Claire and Barb Affren know. Hell, Dan Malloy knows. Half the town knows.”

“What?” Todd said.

Tom and Lee nodded

“And anyway,” Fenn said to Todd, “you went all the way to Pennsylvania to bring him back. To tell him he was part of us. How can Brian be one of us if we keep in the dark?”

“I don’t like it,” Lee said.

“You don’t like me,” Brian said to him.

“No one does.”

“Lee!”

“No, Fenn. He ruined your life once, and now…”

“Lee,” Tom said. “I had a little something to do with that too.”

“You had a lot of something to do with it. It’s why it took me ten years to even stand in the same room with you.”

“But it was my choice to make,” Fenn said. “If we’re going to go through all the trouble of bringing him back, he ought to have something to come back to.”

“All the money in Joe Callan’s account?”

“No, Lee,” said Fenn. “Us.”

This produced an embarrassed silence for everyone but Fenn. And then Tom said, “Don’t you think we should actually make sure there is money in Joe Callan’s account?”

Brian nodded and went to the computer at the same time Lee did. They both looked at each other and then with a raised eyebrow, Lee made space for him.

“I’ll be goddamned,” Lee muttered.

Brian just kept blinking, and scrolling up and down.

“I don’t believe this,” he said breathlessly. “I don’t believe it.”