Heatstroke (extended version) (6 page)

 

August 20, 1964
If I could skip dinner I would, but I can't be rude to my host. Every night I show up and make sure I don't
encourage those that find it difficult to take no for an answer. I look around the table without making eye contact with
any of the men. The ones who have tried to get inside my bedroom I don't address at all. I can't have them
misinterpreting my courtesy for interest on my part.
Being the youngest and most inexperienced among Benjamin's guests, I'm always more of a listener to the
conversations taking place than I am an active participant. The others are between thirty and sixty years old, and have
no qualms talking about their adventures with other men. I find myself both in awe and appalled by the way in which
they live.
They should not be married. I know they need to deflect the attention from what they are, and that their wives are
none the wiser, but they shouldn't be married and lying to their loved ones in such a way. We should not have to lie about who we are.
I don't want to lie.

 

Michael shook his head and closed the journal carefully after reading its last entry.

 

"Looks like you didn't want to be in the closet, man," he whispered, taking another journal out of

 

his back pack. He'd sorted them out the previous night so that they were in order. "So what

 

happened? Why did you marry her?"

 

August 21, 1964
One more guest arrived today; just in time for supper. That he isn't an actor, producer or business man is obvious
from his manners and physique. He's taller than the rest of us. Stronger. His shoulders are wide enough to carry the
weight of the world. His legs are long; his arms powerful. He looks like he can either squeeze the breath out of a
person from one hug alone or make them feel protected. His hair is the color of midnight, and so are his eyes. I never
saw darker eyes than his… or more luscious lips. He reminds me of my favorite treat. His lips are plump as an
apple, and his skin the color of the caramel I very much love to lick. I have met Latinos before, but none that can
compare, or even come close to him in looks and charm.
When I first saw him my body temperature elevated so much I felt feverish. In a matter of seconds I went from
feeling cool and collected to dizzy and weak. He said hello and the muscles in my stomach cramped… and lower…
down there… I ached…
That wasn't normal, and because I had been out on the sun so much, I thought I was suffering from heat stroke.
His midnight eyes sought out mine and I couldn't breathe. I wasn't sweating, but I could feel my skin was
flushed… probably red. He looked away and I felt confused… lost... He talked to some of the other men and I felt
agitated. Then he got closer and my pulse got faster. He smiled at me and I felt disoriented… I couldn't remember
where I was. By the time he shook my hand I was hallucinating… images of him picking me up and carrying me up the staircase would not leave me alone. And when he released my hand and turned to greet the next man all I wanted
was to drag him out of the dining room and hide him somewhere safe… somewhere those sexual vultures could not get
to him.
It was the strangest behavior I have exhibited in my entire life.
I thought about excusing myself, but I didn't. Even though I had just met him, something inside me balked at the
idea of being away from him, so I stayed. I dealt with my drumming heartbeat and pretended it didn't skip a beat
every time he glanced my way, and somehow I worked up enough nerve to ask him to sit next to me.
He did. He talked to me; smiled at me… He asked if he could keep me company tomorrow and I said yes.
Absolutely. A thousand times yes.
A timid smile passed between us. A veiled but intense look… A brush of his fingers against mine under the
table… That's when I realized it wasn't the Florida sun that had so unexpectedly hit me, but a marvelous Cuban
man who now has me under his spell.
His name is Manuel Guzman and I cannot wait to see him tomorrow.

 

"So it was love at first sight for you, wasn't it, Richard?" Michael blinked a few times. "One look

 

at the hot Latino and you were a goner?"

 

Michael turned the page, and quickly turned it again when he realized what he was reading. The

 

next several entries were all about Richard and Manuel, and their time in Benjamin's island. He didn't

 

read them. Even though he was dying to know, that shit was private. It belonged to Richard, and it

 

was bad enough that his grandma had most likely read it. Michael refused to do the same. It felt as if

 

he'd be violating something sacred, and he promised to skip everything that had sexual content.

 

He put the journal down and reached for his cell phone one more time. Getting in touch with

 

Richard's sister was turning out to be as difficult as getting into his grandma's damn attic. For

 

starters, Helen didn't live in the New Jersey house anymore, and although her son did, he didn't believe Michael was who he said he was when he first identified himself. The guy had hung up on

 

Michael and ignored him every single time he'd called after that.

 

His lousy disposition didn't stop Michael from continuing to try. He dialed again and again. He

 

left his name and phone number. He explained who his grandmother was and why it was so

 

important he spoke with Helen. Why couldn't that asshole understand that?

 

He cursed under his breath when the phone kept on ringing, and was ready to leave yet another

 

message when Helen's son answered. Apparently he was done doubting Michael's words.

 

The conversation went fine, and one hour and five phone calls later, Michael finally started

 

getting answers to the questions that had bothered him for way too long.

 

August 23, 1964
After five incredible days and nights together the time came for Manny to return home. He is a baseball player
with a very rigid schedule, and although he wanted to, it was impossible for him to stay longer than the five days he had
originally planned for. It was hard to watch him go, but knowing we'll be seeing each other soon makes the distance
tolerable. Fortunately for us, he plays for a team in Los Angeles; very close to my home.
There are no words that can properly express what I'm feeling right now. All I can say is that my mind has been
captivated; my heart claimed and my body awakened by a man that is strong, handsome and has a soul as pure as
snow.
Benjamin assures me this kind of thing happens all the time. Two strangers will meet while vacationing in some
tropical beach, have a torrid affair and believe they want more, but eventually sanity will return and the strangers will
move on. I hope he's wrong. This doesn't feel like a fling to me, and I certainly want to be more than a summer
vacation affair to Manny. I hope Benjamin is wrong… Tonight I'll pray that he is.
Chapter Six
By the time Michael got picked up from the lake he was so furious at his grandmother he

 

couldn't even talk. Sitting next to her in the back seat of his father's car was torture, and it'd taken a

 

good amount of control he didn't even know he had to keep his mouth shut.

 

Looking out the window helped, but he was aware of the suspicious looks she kept throwing his

 

way. It was as if she knew
he
knew. As if, somehow, she had managed to figure out what he'd been

 

up to. Then again, maybe she was just being paranoid. Hard for someone not to read too much into

 

everything when they were keeping so many secrets, right?

 

She wouldn't be wondering for long, though. Michael didn't feel like saying anything just yet, but

 

he damn well was working on a hell of a surprise for her.

 

Dinner time couldn't come soon enough.

 

October 7, 1964
I went to see Manny play today. As usual, his performance was outstanding. They say he's one of the greatest
players to ever grace the right field. That the way in which he hits the ball is unique, and to see him run at full speed
around the bases is the thrill of a lifetime. I don't know much about baseball, but most definitely agree with the fans. And it thrills me to no end to hear the crowd cheer for him while he moves so gracefully on the field.
I saw him look my way several times. It isn't always possible for me to come say Hello every time I get to go watch
a game, but he always knows I'm there. He always looks for me. I know because we have a secret code: a quick brush
of his shoulder against his left cheek and a twirl of his hair around his finger. That is the signal he uses to let me
know he has seen me.
How I wish things were different for us. How I wish we didn't have to hide; to plan days in advance just so that
we can be together for a few hours. To come up with excuses to be together or to have to explain our friendship to the
world, as they don't understand how an actor and a Latino baseball player can be friends. We have nothing in
common, they say. We are as different as the sun and the moon.
They couldn't be more mistaken.
Manny and I have everything in common, as we have discovered through the numerous letters and phone calls we
have exchanged since we parted ways in Florida. We both like to read. We both like the theater. He likes to cook and
I love to eat new things… the list goes on and on. We both want to travel the world and eventually settle down
somewhere private. We want to be together forever.
I shared my feelings with Benjamin. I had to tell someone, or I would have exploded. He called me a fool. Said
only someone as inexperienced as I am would think lust is the same as love and that it will pass in a few weeks. I let
him laugh. I know how I feel. I don't need to be as versed as he is in sexuality and relationships to know it isn't lust
that keeps me awake every night wishing I could be in Manny's arms. It isn't lust that makes me feel like I have lost
a limb only because we are apart. And this pain in my heart whenever I think about the hundred different things that
could tear us apart? That's not lust… That is something else… something bigger and powerful and very much lasting.
Our jobs are demanding and we travel all over the place, yet we have managed to keep in touch and be together ten
times. Ten wonderful, breathtaking, delightful, and satisfying times. Sadly, it wasn't possible tonight. Perhaps next
week… Please, lord… let it be next week… November 20, 1964
Three days at my parents' house and I'm ready to take my own life.
Things in Los Angeles have been out of control for a while. I'm famous now. My face is on television and the big
screen, and my name on the marquees of every city. The audience recognizes and praises my hard work. They identify
with the characters I have played and constantly demand more. I receive so many scripts and offers from directors and
producers that I can't keep up with them anymore. I now have an assistant and a small group of people to help take
care of every detail of my career and life. As a result, I have no privacy.
Helen insisted I came home. She's now engaged and wanted me to meet her fiancé. Although I'm happy for her and
it has been years since I had a holiday with my family, I almost declined. I miss them all very much, especially Helen,
but I fear they'll be able to discover the truth behind my close friendship with Manny. The entire world knows about it.
For some reason, the press doesn't stop commenting on it.
But Manny is visiting what he calls his big rambunctious family in Miami. He loves them and they love him and
I'm happy they are very supportive of him, but I worry out of my mind when he's with his mother. Manny is twenty
four years old. At that age, Cuban men are already married and raising kids. So far he's been able to use his work as
an excuse not to make that kind of commitment, but that doesn't stop his mother from introducing him to every
Carmen, Teresa and Maria living in their neighborhood when Manny goes home. Her goal is to see him married by
the time he turns twenty-five, and I can't deal with that. I despair thinking she might be able to convince him.
At the end I decided to get over my irrational fears and come home. I'm an actor. I can pretend everything is
normal for as long as I have to. Have I not been doing the same in Los Angeles for months? I needed to escape for a
few days and visiting my family was the perfect solution. They would be able to distract me from thoughts of Manny
surrounded by women I don't know but hate all the same.
Mom and dad still live in the same small town where I grew up, so I expected peace and solitude. A total change
from the hectic and superficial climate that is so characteristic of Los Angeles. Instead I got the entire town stopping
by to say hello and ask for an autograph. My parents didn't stop them. Guess they aren't upset anymore I didn't become a dentist.
I also got questioned about my friendship with Manny. The family reads the magazines and newspapers. They're
worried about the rumors. They say it isn't good for me if people start believing I'm like some of those other actors
that secretly crave men. I told them Manny is a good friend and refused to discuss the matter. I can't deal with their
scrutiny of my private affairs.
And there is Mary Elizabeth.
She's still my little sister's best friend and I'm almost sure she lives in this house as well, because for three days I
haven't been able to go to the restroom without bumping into her. She follows me around. She wants to talk. She tried
to kiss me. Twice! She flirts, and my parents encourage her. Apparently, they want for me to start dating her because
she's an excellent girl from a good family and would take care of me.
Mary Elizabeth Spencer is the reason why I'm hiding in my old bedroom at three o'clock in the afternoon.
God, I want to go back home. I want to see my Manny.

 

"Mary Elizabeth Spencer," Michael tried the name out loud. "That explains our last name. It was

 

Grandma's maiden name. I'm going to have to look into that. See if there's any of her family