Page 322 - Some Dance to Remember

292 Jack Fritscher

up, and they can’t kill us outright in camps. We’re related to too many
straight people who’d object. Besides, the human rights front is too strong
in this hemisphere. So they’ve instigated a medical problem to decimate
homosexuals.”
“It’s a good thing you stay home. You’d create hysteria in the streets.”
“There’s always hysteria in the streets.” Solly was severe. “Let me
paraphrase you to you. I may not agree with all you’ve said and written,
but I remember it all.” He stood up and stood over Ryan. “What about
all your radical politics? Your politically correct lesbians? Your feminists?
Even your corny masculinists? You, my friend, are right up there with the
lunatic fringe of sex politics that has ruined gay liberation. You will bring
down the house on the rest of us little queers who just want to suck cock.”
Solomon Bluestein was genuinely dismayed. “Politically correct. I love that
knee-jerk jerk-off phrase. You want to know what’s politically correct?
I’ll tell you. What’s politically correct is what the government thinks is
politically expedient. That and nothing else.”
“You should move to Berkeley.”
“Ah, to be in Berserkely now that plague is here.” Solly was relentless.
“Do you remember Reagan when he was governor in the sixties? When
he was confronted with all the student protests at Berkeley, he said, ‘If
there’s going to be a bloodbath, then it might as well begin now. Let’s get
it over with.’”
“You are so amusing,” Ryan said. “So very amusing. I love it. But
you’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong?”
“The plague is not a government plot. Homosexuals are all much too
delicate for this planet. We have no immunity to its ills and woes.”
“You’re too New Age in an age that is not new. It’s prehistoric.”
“Bullshit.”
“You’re much too cosmic about everything.”
“That’s why I came to California,” Ryan said.
Solly despaired, pacing the room, straightening lamps and ash trays.
“Actually,” Solly said, “I alone know what AIDS really is.”
“What is it?” Ryan said.
“Identity. Acquired Identity Deficiency Syndrome.”
Ryan pulled a bottle from his leather jacket. “Here’s two Valium.”
“Thank you. I love downers.” Solly swallowed the blue pills with a
slug of Coca-Cola. “Don’t go. Not quite yet. I have a favor to ask. I want
you to take something home with you. One of my boys left it here. I don’t
want it around.” Solly reached into a drawer. “Too much can happen when

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