The Legend of the Ditto Twins (49 page)

Libor
threw himself down flat on his back on a bale of hay, eyes closed, and Pavol
began to make him happy.

"Close-up
down on Libor, Felix. Keep your eyes closed, Libor, till I tell you. Make it
real—no one's ever caught you and Pavol before. Okay, ready." He took a
long pause and then barked "Now!"

Libor
opened his eyes. His panic seemed so real that I wondered if his girlfriend had
just showed up. He pulled away from Pavol and pointed up to us. Pavol looked up
in terror, too. That's when it hit us: For the first time in their longstanding
relationship, they knew they really did have something to hide. It all felt
very real.

Just as we
had rehearsed, they motioned us down, and we obeyed. The dialogue was a little
clunky, and Jay had already warned us to keep going, that he might have to dub
them later because of their accents. I only remember a couple of the lines we
managed to say.

"We
were just..."

“...sneaking
a smoke, Hank. We..."

“...won't
tell Mom..."

“...if
you won't tell her on us."

Libor
moved to whisper something in
Pavol's
ear before he
turned back to consider the situation. We found words.

"You
can go ahead and..."

“...finish
up if you'd like. Only, please, can we..."

“...watch
and see how it's done?"

Instantly,
they took charge, teaching Ryan and Bryan how to kiss, just as we had taught
them to the first night. Still, we had to stop every fifteen minutes or so,
because of the cold. Mugs of tea and coffee were produced as needed, but my
favorite moment was when our students started giving us "tips" on how
to make love.

"Why
don't you see if you can take all of him?" Pavol suggested in his best
imitation of Clark. "Like this." With a skill that did us proud, he
demonstrated.

Before
the evening was over, everyone had had a taste of everyone else, and a quartet
of "money shots" capped the proceedings. Afterwards, Pavol and Libor
again thanked us profusely. We thanked them, too—and meant it.

"It
is unfortunate tonight was only all-oral scene," Pavol sighed. "If
you need further replacements, we are available also as bottom boys first
class."

Before we
could reply, Jay approached to pull us aside.

"You
forgot to warn us. We almost didn't get your money shot."

"Oh,
shit." In unison.

"It's
okay. We got it." He sighed. "I understand you want to go to the
airport to meet Helmut tomorrow?"

"Yeah.
Is that a problem?" In unison.

"No.
no. Go ahead."

"Uh,
how long..."

“...is he
staying
?"

"Just
for the day."

"That's
all?" In unison.

"He
has other commitments. Why?"

"No
particular reason. We're..."

“...just
looking forward to seeing him."

Helmut
III arrived the next morning. Although exhausted from the late-night shoot in
the barn, we'd awakened early again. The prospect of seeing the German sex god,
for some reason or other, had made for a very fitful night. We showered without
making love, determined to be at our very best for the shoot that afternoon, or
so we told ourselves, but I think both Clark and I were a bit confused by how
giddy with expectation we were.

We chose
to wear our Yankees caps—and hurried downstairs to meet Clay for the drive to
the airport. Our anticipation of the reunion was dampened only slightly when
Jay, more brusque than usual, approached the equipment van as we were about to
climb in.

"May
I have a second?"

"Sure.
What's up?" In unison.

"This
is your mother hen talking. I just want to remind you. Don't get too revved up.
I have known Helmut a long time, and with people like him, this will only be
another game."

"Yeah,
we know that. You've..."

“...said
that before."

"And
I'll say it again. In matters of recreational sex, the second time is rarely as
good as the first. You'll have to work very hard to match that first night.
Now, don't let that throw you, but be aware."

We nodded
and climbed into the van. Not much was said during the trip to the airport.

Helmut
III looked as hot as ever and greeted us like old friends. He was wearing his
Yankees cap, too. Although we'd had no contact with him for several months, we
seemed to pick up right where we'd left off, with warm embraces.

"Jay
tells me the camera loves you."

"Maybe."

"Hope
so."

"And
that you are very decent actors, too," he added.

"Trying
hard."

"Learning
fast."

As we
climbed in the back seat of the van, he positioned himself to sit between us,
one hand soon resting casually on my thigh, his other on Clark's. But, as in
the cab that night in Berlin, that was as close as he came to our packages. It
was awhile before he spoke.

"I...
I have surprised myself by how much I am looking forward to today."

I dropped
my hand on top of his. Clark followed my lead.

"Us,
too."

"And
also surprised at how uneasy I am."

"Uneasy?"

"Why?"

"Because...
the second time is never as good as the first."

"That's
what Jay said, too. I guess we'll have to..."

“...work twice
as hard to make it even better."

Helmut
III smiled ruefully. "There is an old show biz joke I once heard. I do not
remember how it goes, but I have always remembered the punch line: 'What do you
do for an encore?'"

We
laughed uneasily and changed the subject.

"Jay
says you're only here for the day. We were hoping..."

“...you'd
be able to stay longer."

"I
was hoping, too. But I am making a personal appearance in Mykonos two days
hence from now. Dancing at a club there. Big money."

"Mykonos?
We've..."

“...heard
of Mykonos."

"Ja
ja,
it's Queer Heaven. You should come visit me
after you're done with the shoot. By then, you will need a small vacation, and
I am being provided with very nice accommodations. Only one bed. Would you care
to join me?"

"Wunderbar!"
In unison.

Clark and
I interlaced our fingers and together cupped Helmut III's package. Before we
knew it, the three of us were kissing. I could see Clay watching us in the
rear-view mirror, but he said nothing, so neither did we.

Jay was
waiting. He hugged Helmut III in a strangely perfunctory manner and started
giving directions.

"Let's
get moving. Riggs is waiting for us at the church. I want to get the sun
streaming through the stained-glass windows before we lose the light. And,
Helmut, you'll need to get a shower and try on the clerical vestments,
okay?"

The
church itself was postcard perfect. Nestled in a grove of fir trees, the
building was as timeless as the villa, and before we even went in, Jay got a
fabulous shot of Ryan and Bryan, dressed in proper suits and ties, entering it
on their way to confession. Inside, the place was equally as cinematic. It
looked exactly like all those churches in the old black-and-white MGM movies
that Jay had introduced us to during the last few months.

"Ed,
do they know what kind of a film we're shooting?" asked Jay with just a
touch of concern.

Riggs
smiled. "The Monsignor is an old friend, a fan."

Jay
snickered slyly and began to relax.

Clark,
Helmut III, and I slipped into one of the pews to snuggle, fondle, and listen.

"They
had a nasty scandal here several years ago," Riggs continued. "Seems
a young novitiate was fucking altar boys right and left, some actually on the
altar itself."

Jay
looked up. "The altar itself?"

Riggs
nodded. "The Diocese damned near went bankrupt settling law suits, and
this particular church was closed for good six months ago."

"There's
no one here but us?"

"The
building's been sold to an American conglomerate. They're turning it into a
disco. In the meantime..." Riggs held up a ring of keys, "the
Monsignor owed me a favor."

"Perfect."
He paused. "On the altar itself, huh?"

As if in
a trance, Jay began to move toward the front of the church. Instantly, Clay was
right behind him.

"Don't
even think about it."

"Oh,
shut up," replied Jay, shaping his fingers into a camera lens, and staring
through them to frame his shots.

"Babe,
it's just asking for trouble."

"Clay,
we have two-thirds of a movie already in the can about the greatest taboo still
known to man, and you're worried about being a little sacrilegious?"

"I
still think it's dangerous."

"All
great art is dangerous," retorted Jay dismissively. "Pavol, go
through the building and find me the biggest mirrors you can find. Libor, bring
in the cameras and lights. Lily, vacuum."

"Jay!"

"Clay."
He lit a cigarette and handed it over. "Relax, Babe. It's perfect, we can
even smoke in here."

We
followed Jay and Helmut III into the vestry, and our superstar friend instantly
stripped down to try on the various ecclesiastical garments we found there. It
was wonderful to see him naked again. Eventually, they decided on a simple
black vestment with a thick rope around his waist, sort of like a Franciscan
monk. Helmut pulled the rope tight and strutted across the room. After a dramatic
pause, he spun around, opened the robe, and flashed us.

"Wouldn't
it be hot if the priest's not wearing underwear?" he asked with a wicked
grin. He was already hard.

"Yes!"
said Jay. "And when you strip down, leave the collar on—sort of an
ecumenical Chippendales look."

"
Ja
ja
!"
giggled Helmut. "What about a crucifix?"

"No!"
Clark and I flipped up our ties up and unbuttoned our shirts. "We're
wearing the crucifixes."

"Monsters!"
roared Jay. "I've created a pair of monsters!"

"Magnificent
monsters!" shouted Helmut III, embracing us in a gloriously sloppy
three-way kiss.

"Save
that for the camera, if you please," Jay snapped. "First, we have to
find Helmut some black shoes and socks."

We searched
the room for ten minutes or so to no avail. Eventually, Jay turned to Clark and
me.

"Check
in the other rooms, would you? Take your time. I want to bring Helmut up to
speed on the scene, anyway."