Y and the black janitor Charlie swam in the open water when the lightning struck, their legs were transfigured beneath the surface
I refused to sleep with A to punish her for not sleeping with me. I don’t know if I’m the one to have started this game of withholding.
I went to see a woman in the bad part of town. She punched me in the face. I got an erection. I didn’t want to ejaculate in front of her when I came. I paid her handsomely.
I wanted to be alone to think about what had happened.
I got work as a nurse’s assistant at a doctor’s office. The doctor was a tall laconic man in his sixties. He was a workaholic not to think about death. With his free time he went to third world
South American country to treat the poor. He cornered me one work day when the last
patient cancelled and put my hand on his throat. I squeezed it and kneed him in the groin.
I knew what he wanted and gave it to him. He refused to take me anywhere.
He wanted for our relationship to take place in the office. I had felt a great sense of pride
working for the fine doctor but I didn’t like how he wanted to use me.
I felt ashamed of my lanky pale body. I never went to Long Island beach in July and August.
I braved the heat in my small midtown apartment with a plastic fan.
In the final years Y lived at the end of the one bedroom apartment. He had become verbally and physically abusive. I had him stay with me for habit and nostalgia. I fed him tomato soup, goat cheese, and Budweiser beer. He said he wanted to outlive me because I wanted him dead. He said that he was a mind reader and that he knew I had an unhealthy mind. He wanted my guilt to
drive me to suicide. I promised myself I would kill him before I killed myself. On humid summer nights I would feel him inside my mind. I scratched the eczema on my belly and wrist
until I bled. I drank heavily and did excessive squat exercises that hurt my spine.
Charlie the black janitor came over to spend the night every summer weekend. He made an excuse to fix something that was broke and I gave him a Rainier beer and tomato soup. He had a big black cock that grew inside my mouth and abdomen. Y would get jealous and demand to suck off Charlie. I want to be with Charlie Y would holler. Charlie would spit in Y’s mouth to make him shut up. It placated him. I would tell Charlie not to mind Y. Y talked about race
politics and damnation that never failed to incense Charlie. Y wanted to get Charlie worked up so that he would beat his ass.
Charlie worked for the transit system. He was a conductor. He saw god awful shit underground that traumatized him. He took anti depressants and drank red bull and vodka to cope.
Charlie was a Buddhist. He felt that emptiness surrounded us and that nothing we saw was real. He said that I should read about the life of the Saints. I wasn’t interested in the Saints. I told Charlie so. Charlie wanted to kiss the Argentinian’s Pope’s hand. He didn’t think he was like the other Popes. I had no idea what Charlie saw in the Pope that made him special. I wanted to take Charlie downtown to get some Chinese food as I had been doing all summer long without Y.