Page 343 - Some Dance to Remember

Some Dance to Remember 313

for some time now.”
“I’ve always known it,” Ryan said. He damned January Guggenheim’s
documentary. If only they hadn’t been so bold as to go public, spreading
Kick’s image across ten billion cathode ray tubes, showing him up on the
TV screen in Logan’s apartment in San Diego.
He knew for certain they’d never publish the words and pictures of
Universal Appeal.
Ryan was no doubt a fool for love, but he wasn’t that much of a fool.
He had known from the moment of Logan’s sudden arrival on Castro that
Kick had fallen immediately in-love with him. He had hoped that Logan
would wear thin. But he had not. He had hoped Logan would be a casual
fling. But he was not. He knew it for certain the first time Kick had come
back to him bruised by a tiff with Logan. He knew that the fights that
drove Kick down from Bar Nada were lovers’ quarrels.
“You and I have always talked of our gentlemen’s agreement,” Ryan
said. “I’ve always been gentlemanly with you and I always will be.”
“Don’t you see?” Kick asked. “This is my chance, your chance, our
chance to live the total concept of homomasculine fraternity.”
“But you’re in-love with him,” Ryan said.
“No more than you’re in-love with me.”
“You’ve always known that?”
“From the very first night,” Kick said. “I’ve always admired the way
you kept it under control. You have more self-discipline than any dedi-
cated bodybuilder. I love your control. If there can be a purity to being
in-love, you’ve got it, Ry. In that way, I want to be exactly like you.”
God damn the irony! “I always thought it was the other way around.”
“You’re the only man I know big enough to handle this. We’ve never
crowded each other. Why should we start now? We can have anything
we want.”
“I thought being in-love was something you had declared
out-of-bounds.”
“I thought so too. At first.” Kick was all style. Good-looking people
can get away with murder. He kept himself ingratiated to Ryan. “But you
handle being in-love with me so well that I figured I could learn that from
you too. You’re my coach, Ry. You teach me things. You seem so happy
in-love with me. I wanted to feel that kind of happiness too.”
I should yell. I should scream. I should fight. “Then I want you to have
it.” Ryan made up his mind to mean it.
“There’s enough of me to go around,” Kick said. “Big muscles. Big
heart. Big soul.”

©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved
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