PEG BOY (27 page)

S
amuel
McIntyre saw a remarkable recovery in the Australian boy and knew he had Santiago
Cali to thank. Somehow Santiago had taken McIntyre at his word and had accepted
Kim as his responsibility. Not only had the young boy begun to speak again, he
had also begun to gain weight. His dour demeanor had not changed, however. It
was evident that the boy took no pleasure in what he was doing. In point of
fact he hated it. This came to light after his brother’s death and it had
surprised McIntyre because he had heard from clients that the boy had been
quite adept and cooperative.

In the
following weeks the daily operation of the house became routine. The boys rose
near noon to eat the main meal served in the communal dining room. The business
day began near mid-afternoon. From that time any of the boys that were called
upon to service patrons were ordered to their peg-stools to display themselves
for selection. Non-working time was spent in their rooms or with others in the
parlor, where they played games of cards and darts, or watched others do so.
There was always a ready supply of water pipes for those who needed them.

Kim Simmons
resigned himself to bide his time. He intended to get away from McIntyre
somehow and the courage he had gained from Santiago’s support and friendship
convinced him it could be possible.

Kim began to
follow Santiago everywhere. The boys were never seen apart except when
servicing clients. When clients requested to have the boys together, McIntyre
refused, knowing the relationship would suffer if  they were forced to become
sexual partners. It was his sense of human nature and business and not of propriety
that motivated the decision. He wanted the young boy to depend on Santiago, who
was stable and cooperative, and who would hopefully influence Kim to similar
behavior.

Santiago found
himself so involved with Kim that it surprised him. He had not been prepared to
feel or understand the intensity of emotions he experienced in this kind of
love. He had known the love of his mother and father and the love for his
brother…, the love of and for his lover and the love for nature and living
things. But he was not familiar with the love of nurturing and protection. He
felt the weight of the responsibility of dependence and of being the reason for
someone-else’s safety and comfort. He had first thought of himself falling in
love with Kim in a sexual way but then realized the error when his thoughts of
the boy were not erotic in nature. Most of the other boys in the peg-house were
convinced that Santiago and Kim had become lovers or were going to bed together
as payment for Santiago’s protection and he was ridiculed by some for his
attraction to children. Some spoke out of jealousy. But McIntyre understood.

Santiago and
Kim had spent the afternoon sunning themselves on the roof. The weather had
broken and clouds had parted to reveal a warm sun that burned off the morning
fog. The smell of sea and the warmth of the sun on their skin were so unusual
that it seemed out of place from the previous month’s endurance. McIntyre had
suggested that they go to the roof for air in hopes of reducing the growing
sense of confinement he had seen in the boys’ faces.

Santiago urged
Kim to accompany him. Aside from attending the functions in the parlor in the
evening, being displayed on peg, Kim had not been leaving his room. His initial
enthusiasm for the perverse had changed to apathy. It seemed that he had
resigned himself to accepting his lot in life as long as someone he liked and
trusted was close for support. He had not decreased his consumption of opium
and still ate little, but his weight had resulted in a more attractive boy
whose genitals had recently begun to change color and enlarge. Santiago and Kim
had bonded closely in the weeks after Michael’s death and it had been the
sadness of his eyes and the hopelessness of his sighs to which Santiago had
responded.

The evening promised
to be a busy one. Two ships had anchored that day and word of McIntyre’s
peg-house had reached those of the crew who fancied that kind of entertainment,
having come to know and grow fond of similar services in the Orient. When
Santiago reported to the daily meeting held in the afternoon before the
establishment’s doors opened for business, he was informed that he had been
purchased for the night by Mr. Bolen. Knowing he would not see Kim until the
following morning, Santiago made it a point to spend time with him before work
began.

“Remember…,”
Santiago said, putting his arm around the young boy’s shoulders as they sat
side-by-side on his bed, “…we’ll be in this room all the time. If you have any
problem or need anything, knock on the wall. I will come quickly. Mr. Bolen
will not mind the interruption. He is a kind man.”

“You see him a
lot, don’t you!”

Kim had
wondered how Santiago felt for the man who paid him a visit at least two times
a week.

“Do you really
like doing it with him?”

Kim could not
imagine himself enjoying making love to any of the men he had been forced to
service and was in awed by Santiago’s comfort with what he was asked to do each
night. He knew Santiago had developed a fondness for Mr. Bolen, but to what
degree?

“I like him,”
Santiago smiled. “Mr. Bolen is gentle. He loves to touch me and he never asks
me to do anything I do not want to do. I enjoy sex with him and he makes me
feel good. With him I have some worth, some value. Yes, I do like doing it with
him.”

“Does he love
you?”

“In his way,
yes.”

“How do you
mean?”

“He likes
making love to me but it is more than that. He also talks to me and asks me
what I think about things. He tries to take care of me when we spend time
together. He looks out for me and brings me little gifts. I suppose that is a
love of some kind.”

Kim leaned
closer and looked into Santiago’s eyes.

“But that is
how you feel about me! You do things for me. You take care of me. You give me
little gifts. Santiago, we do not make love, but you do all the other things.
Does that mean you love me?”

The subject of
love had not been discussed between them before. But now that the questions had
been asked and the comparisons made, Santiago had to admit that the observation
had veracity.

“Yes, I do
love you Kim. You mean more to me than anyone in my life right now. Everyone
that I have loved has gone. The only one left is the boy who was once my lover,
and he is in Peru. There are too many miles and too much time between us. It is
difficult to see him as clearly as I once did. I am not the boy I was!”

“Will you
leave me?”

Santiago was
surprised by the question.

“But, I’m not
going anywhere.”

“Michael was
not planning to go anywhere either, but
he
left me!”

Santiago took
Kim’s hands.

“We are
friends, Kim. I am not going to leave you alone. I care a great deal for you,
but you must show me that
you
care for yourself! Let me tell you
something. It does not matter what you need to do to survive so long as you
succeed. You are of no value to yourself or to anyone else, dead.”

“But how long
will you keep doing this,” Kim asked, distressed. “How long will McIntyre keep
me? You know how he buys and sells boys. How do I know that you or I will not
be sold or sent away?”

“We don’t! But
each day that does not happen is one more day I can work on my plan.”

“What plan?
For what?”

“To get us out
of here!”

“How? What do
you plan to do, escape? The doors are locked. The only way to escape is to jump
from the roof when he allows us to go there and even then , we would break our
necks.”

“But someone
else could get us the way you mentioned before.”

“You mean buy
us?”

“Yes.”

“But then we
would be taken from each other! Who would buy us together?”

“My gentleman
friend.”

“Mr. Bolen?
Would he do that?”

“If I give him
what he wants and do not make it available too often, yes. If I make him feel
as wonderful as I think I can, perhaps I could talk him into doing what would
be necessary to have me whenever he wanted.”

“Do you really
think you could?”

“Yes..., but
it may take time. And McIntyre could put a stop to it anytime.”

“Would he?”

“Yes, if he
thought Mr. Bolen and I were getting too close. But Mr. Bolen thinks enough
money would convince McIntyre to do otherwise. If he is right, perhaps enough
money could convince him to let us go.”

“Mr. Bolen would
buy me too?”

The boy’s
interest had become aroused. It was the first time Santiago had mentioned his
plan. Hope surged within him and made his heart pound so that he could barely
contain his joy.

“Santiago...,”
Kim hugged his friend. “You would talk him into taking me along too?”

“Of course!
Are we not brothers?”

Kim realized
that up to this moment all his thoughts of the future had held little hope. Now
there was a plan of escape that would free them and it filled him with
excitement.

“Will you ask
him tonight, Santiago? You will see him tonight? You will ask what he can do
for us?”

“The time is
not right yet, Kim. I must wait for the right moment.”

“But why can
you not ask him tonight? He likes you..., you could tell him that I would do
for him what you do. That way he could have the two of us. Please find out if
he can get us out of here!”

Santiago
disentangled himself from Kim’s embrace.

“Listen,” he
said, holding Kim’s shoulders in an attempt to quiet him. “ You are asking me
to do something at the moment that would not work. It is not the right time. I
need to have more time with him. I need more time!”

Kim turned
away and faced the wall, brooding in disappointment.

“You don’t
care what happens to me,” he snapped. “All you care about is yourself.”

“You believe
that?” Santiago moved to the bed. “Do you really believe that?”

Kim glared at
him, his eyes blazing with frustration and anger. Santiago moved to the door.
Kim ran and stood before the door, blocking his exit.

“No, wait.
Don’t go, please! I’m sorry. I did not mean what I said. I know you care and
that you are my friend. Don’t go!”

Santiago went
to the bed again, brining the boy with him.

“If there is
one thing I have learned since I have come to this country, it is to choose the
correct moment. In all things, there is always a right and wrong time. Michael
chose the wrong time to complain and give McIntyre problems. Had he waited
until he had made himself more popular with the patrons and a source of money
for McIntyre, he would have been less likely to have been considered
dispensable.

“Kim, let me
do this my way! All I can tell you is that I
will not
leave willingly
without you!”

On the morning
of June 26th, Anthony Bolen was returning from one of his warehouses when he
observed a crowd moving toward a settlement known as
Little Chile,
on
the western slope of Telegraph Hill. He sensed trouble by the look of the
crowd. Some men wore pistols at their sides and others carried fire-brands. The
area was notorious for its racial tensions. Some inhabitants of the neighboring
Sidney Town
, exiles from Australian penal colonies, were often recruited
by the Hounds to harass Peruvians and Chileans living in shacks and tents in
the Spanish settlement.

Night-time
violence and crimes had begun occurring during the day-light hours. Beatings
once done under the cover of darkness were now happening in daylight. Many of
the town’s leaders were concerned but found that there was little that could be
done, in the area. Bolen deplored the racial violence. He hated the group of
thugs who banded together to plague foreigners. These hoodlums operated under
the guise of  an illusion of justice and claimed to be ridding the town of
undesirables
.
Anyone who looked Spanish or Asian was immediately branded and usually
accosted, resulting in forcing people of like nationalities to band together
for strength and support. Pockets of ethnic settlements appeared. Chinese,
Irish, Australians, Chileans, and Peruvians all came together through
necessity.

The mob moved
as one toward the settlement. The reason for unrest may have been an injustice
done, a slight taken too seriously, an insult perceived. One could not be sure.
Cause was only an excuse for intolerance. The men swarmed into the colony of
shacks and tents, setting torches to structures with no thought to the
occupants within. The early time of day assured that most would still be
asleep. Screams rose above the sounds of fire. Bolen watched as those who came
crawling or running from the burning structures were pummeled or shot. Some
were driven back into the infernos. Men, women and children were shot in the
face or back as they ran from the area. It was when Bolen saw one of the
attacking men lift a crying and abandoned baby from the ground and throw it
into the flames of a burning shack that he ran at the man and sank his fingers
into the face and began tearing at it. Never had he felt such intense violence
within himself. The screams of the burning child and the smell of the scorched
flesh filled his nostrils, penetrated his sense, and permanently lodged into
his mind.

Bolen ran from
place to place, pulling women and children from the flames, his own hands
scorching but he felt nothing. The massacre continued uninterrupted for almost
twenty minutes until the beast of mass-hysteria had spent its energy and the
mob realized what it had done and began to disperse. Individuals sought
separation from the whole to escape the responsibility of the mass murder.
Bolen stood with a small group of the injured; most were severely burned or beaten.
In his arms he held a child, its scalp blistered to the bone. The corps was so
badly charred that he could not tell if it were a girl or boy. He wept.