Page 360 - Some Dance to Remember

330 Jack Fritscher

“Why?”
“Because Dan was diagnosed two weeks ago with AIDS.”
“But Dan will need him to help him through,” Ryan said.
“Dandy won’t be needing anything. Randy thought maybe a small sit-
down dinner party for two friends would lift Dandy’s spirits. But Dandy
disappeared before supper. Randy thought he had gone to lie down. But
he wasn’t in the bedroom. They made the usual jokes about playing hide-
and-seek. Dan was always good for a laugh. So they searched for him.
They found him dead. He drank an eight-ounce bottle of insecticide and
swallowed half a can of Drano. They found him on a pile of garbage bags
where he, I think in final comment, had laid himself out to die.”
“Omigod!”
“Merry Christmas,” Solly said. “Frankly, I don’t see why there aren’t
more AIDS suicides. But there’s better ways than swallowing Drano. I’ve
got a checklist from the Hemlock Society. Do you want me to tell you how
much of what you have to take to kill yourself peacefully?”
“No!”
“Let me tell you. I, who never join anything, have joined the Hemlock
Society and the Neptune Society.”
“Are they giving a gay group rate?” Ryan shuddered. “If I must die,
take me to their Columbarium.”
“We’ll make less of a mess that way,” Solly said. “Drano, indeed!
Come on. Let me fix you some breakfast. I have the neatest little frozen
sausage patties. They’re the latest in junk food.”
“Recommended, are they, by the Hemlock Society?”
“Au contraire. They’re full of preservatives. Eat them and you’ll live
forever. A fate worse than Death.”
Solly microwaved everything.
Ryan poked at the sausages. Grease oozed out under pressure of his
fork. “I usually don’t eat things like this. Kick doesn’t...”
“Spare me,” Solly said.
“I miss him. I’m afraid I’m going to lose him. It’s more than Logan.”
“Give me a break,” Solly said. “So there’s a little trouble in paradise.
How San Francisco! How Bette Davis! How gay! I thought you’d be fin-
ished with him in a week, a month, a year. Three years is twice as long as
the average gay affair. Drop him. You’ll be better off. Believe me, I’m an
expert on hustler sex.” Solly cocked an eyebrow. “Oh! Did I say hustler
sex?”
“Don’t be cynical.”
“Cynical? I’m positively clairvoyant.”

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