Whistler's Club by Chris James    Whistler's Club
by Chris James

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Whistler's Club by Chris James

Adventure
Drama
Sexual Situations
Rated Mature 18+

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Maryland 1990

Bugs carried the calf up to the barn across his broad shoulders. Cows had no sense; the little one's momma must have known she was going to give birth this morning. But like usual she wandered out to the pasture with the herd, dropping her baby in the lush grass. When she didn't turn up that afternoon Bugs went looking.

But the little girl was just fine, and Bret would be glad to see her. Bugs smiled when he saw the green pickup sitting over in front of the house. Molly had arrived, back from her doctor's appointment. Bugs placed the calf in the stall and held the gate open as her mother wandered in.

"Go on, feed your baby," Bugs urged.

The cow looked at him and then snorted as she swished her tail, moving on into the stall and allowing him to close the gate.

"Hey, handsome," a sweet feminine voice said.

Bugs turned and a wide smile lit his face. "Hey, sweetie, what did the doctor say?

Molly rubbed her stomach. "He says she's going to be one healthy baby."

"She? Does he know it's a girl?" Bugs asked.

"Pretty sure, but we'll see," Molly said.

The calf bawled again and Molly walked over to the stall. "Looks like everyone is having babies this year," She said.

Bugs slid in behind Molly and kissed her neck. She laughed and slid away from him.

"Evan McDonald, you smell like cows ... don't you touch me."

"Yes, ma'am," Bugs replied, and then he smiled. "Yes, Mrs. McDonald."

That earned him a kiss and then Molly left the barn and walked back towards the house. He checked the calf again and made sure there was water for her momma, and then he wiped his hands and walked to the barn doors.

The mountains were covered in their lush coat of spring green, the skies were clear to the horizon, and the air ... it was the air he appreciated most. He missed the tang of salt off the Bay, but this was a good trade off. Baltimore, the city that had almost crushed him ... he had no desire to return ... ever.

Bret had cut him out a small piece of land as a wedding present, the community helped build the house. And now a year later he was going to be a father. God, how life changes in the blink of an eye. The moment gave him pause ... Baltimore, he hadn't thought of the city in quite some time.

Life here was so different; this is where he was meant to be. The past was only a distant memory, and for good reason. He didn't have to wonder about those he left behind; they were probably stuck in the same rut, playing the same games. But there were times when he found himself thanking God that he'd been locked up. What a strange thought.

Bugs wondered what had happened to Joey ...

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

It was raining ... again, and Joey took shelter under the awning of the Chinese grocery. He felt warm and the cough he expelled every few minutes had been with him all week long. Damn, he hated getting sick. His stomach growled and he tried to ignore it. There was exactly seven dollars and twenty-three cents in his pocket; at least he could eat dinner later on.

Yesterday had been better, another birthday, his twenty-fourth. Damn. He'd stopped at his mom's and Mike had been there. He was real proud of his little brother; he looked good in that Army uniform. Even Roy had been civil for a change, but always the cop, always suspicious.

They all knew it was his birthday, his mom had given him a fancy button down shirt and they had a great dinner. Joey had hung on until he felt uneasy under Roy's gaze, then he'd gone back to Neil's and stayed in his room for the rest of the night. The little television was his best friend, and he'd lain down on the old couch under the breeze from his fan.

Neil had gone out for the night and that was good, Joey would be left alone. It didn't happen that much anymore, but Joey paid rent with his ass. Neil was rough, but he never lasted long, it was usually over in five minutes. The payment allowed him to sleep on the enclosed back porch under a leaky roof, but at least he wasn't on the street.

Joey had another coughing fit. Fuck, he needed medicine. He really ought to walk himself over to the free clinic on Pratt ... maybe after the rain stopped.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Paul had scheduled a week's vacation and only hoped he could afford the time off. He needed the time away; the pressures on him as the junior member of the State Legislature were terrific. Even after four months as the Representative for District Twelve, Paul still found his office intimidating.

He was in demand for speeches at gay rallies and events across the country, but he chose only those fundraisers which shared his political viewpoints. The gay issue had settled down after the election, Bob said he was going to write a book about the experience. Paul might be the only gay member in Annapolis, but there were a lot of cool headed supporters standing with him.

The election win had been a joy, but nothing compared to Robby's graduation from the University of Maryland in Baltimore. That had cleared the decks for his full time run at the medical program, he was on the way. Paul had never seen someone so driven to succeed, again Robby had graduated in the top third of his class.

They both needed this vacation; Greece had been on the list for a long time. While most twenty-two year old guys might head off to Florida for Spring Break, Robby was going to Greece with his forty year old lover.

He could no longer think of Robby as a boy, the man was an astounding creature. Balancing his studies and his activism kept Robby busy; he seemed to thrive on the pressure. Paul had to smile when he remembered the letter Robby received from the Dean of Medicine offering a slot in the program.

The University was in competition with Hopkins for Robby's attention. To hedge his bet, the Dean had offered Robby a scholarship and the opportunity to work with the Hopkins labs on AIDS research. Paul didn't know how the man had pulled that one off but it worked.

In return a grateful Robby had pinched some of his fellow classmates to work a day here and there at the free clinic. He was still in contact with Mel Leonard out in San Francisco, sharing the information of what he observed among the patients at the clinic and what he was learning at Hopkins.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Benny was on his way up the hill to Hopkins in a taxi and decided maybe this time Richard would finally divulge where he kept the goodies. If he was really laid out in intensive care then he might, Benny figured there were thousands stashed away by now.

The note had only said, 'Some nurse called, Richard is in ICU at Hopkins.' One of his grubby little brats had written it down. It was all up to Richard, maybe there was enough to run away.

Jerry was gone, it had been two years since he'd left and gone back to New York. So much for those strong family ties, the little shit. He'd taken the boy off the streets and loved him, he'd been angry when Jerry left ... but not any more. He wouldn't have done any differently in Jerry's shoes. Little birds must learn how to fly all by themselves.

He was getting too old to deal with these kids; there were four new ones just this year. He saw Joey on the street every now and then; it was just a nodding acquaintance these days. That crew was gone ... Red, Bugs, Barry, Thomas ... gone and grown up. Benny had some small satisfaction that he'd helped them survive, that's all he'd ever wanted ... now it was his turn.

The hallways at Hopkins were quiet and he told the nurse on the duty desk that he was Richard's brother. She looked him over and smiled, maybe it was the suit and tie, but she let him in. Large rooms filled with tons of medical equipment all arranged around a central station, and Richard was in unit four.

The big guy was asleep, the monitors beeping away, tubes going into that fat body from all sides. Christ, what had happened. Benny turned and looked for a chair, there was none. But when he looked back Richard was staring at him.

"Oh ... you got the message," Richard mumbled, he looked sedated.

"What happened?" Benny asked.

Richard slowly raised his arm and patted his chest. "Heart attack ... so how are you?"

"Jesus, Richard ... what are you going to do?"

Richard smiled. "I might just die ... it's been a long time coming. No, I'll get out of this and go to my sister's in Florida. Will you stay and sell the pawn shop for me?"

"Sell ... I don't know shit about your business," Benny said.

Richard looked over at his bedside table. "Look in the drawer will ya?"

Benny moved over beside the bed and pulled open the metal drawer, it held Richard's wallet and a set of keys. "What do you want?" Benny asked.

"You take the keys, and hand me the wallet," Richard said.

The big man fumbled in the leather folder and dug out a business card. "Here, call this guy ... he'll buy the shop and put his own man in there."

Benny looked at the card, Saul Lebovitz and a phone number...New York area code. "Who is this guy?" He asked.

Richard chuckled and a pained expression crossed his face. "Jewish mafia, you don't want to know him too well. Look, go to the store and in the top left hand drawer of my desk you'll find a yellow envelope, just follow the directions."

"What am I supposed to do with all our stuff, I don't even remember who owns what," Benny said.

Richard nodded. "It doesn't matter, give it all to Saul, I don't care ... and you won't either." He held up and hand and Benny came closer, taking the chubby fingers in his hand. "Benny, I know you aren't happy ... you haven't been in a long time. But your boys have made me smile and you did what you could for most of them.

"Neither of us are angels so we can't expect any heavenly rewards. Tell Saul this will cancel his debt to me and give him a good price on the store, he'll understand. As for you ... you old reprobate ... take the money and run away, there's enough to start you all over again, just don't do it in this town."

"Are you sure, Richard? How are you gonna live if I keep the money from the sale?"

Richard began to laugh, enough to shake his whole body and juggle all the tubes coming out of his arms. He seemed to be enjoying his mirthful moment and then he sighed and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Benny, I love you for one very good reason ... you don't know me very well and you never questioned my motives for doing things. I own some property in Florida and there's a sizeable bank account down there waiting for me. My sister hates my guts, but then I own her lock, stock and barrel.

"Now you go on and get that envelope like I told you, and sit down before you open it, OK? And Benny, remember me whenever you get the chance ... I won't be easy to forget." And Richard started laughing again. He waved his hand in dismissal and Benny walked towards the door.

"Benny," Richard called. "Thank you for the friendship. And if you care, for goodness sake, have some flowers sent in ... this place needs a little décor."

Benny nodded and waved before he left the room. He could hear Richard laughing as he walked out the isolation doors into the main hallway, what was going on here? So he would call this Saul in New York and mail him the keys, he didn't want to meet the man. He could have a check sent to a post office box, but then he needed to see what was in that envelope.

The store front was dark when the taxi let him out on the sidewalk. Benny toggled the lock button and heard a thunk as the door unlocked. Richard never had an alarm installed, and for good reason. Alarms brought cops, and the last thing either of them wanted was cops checking the place out.

Benny entered the store and locked the door behind him. He keyed in the numbers on the door lock and opened his way into Richard's lair, immediately proceeding to the desk in the corner. He sat down and turned on the desk lamp before opening the drawer. And there it was ... the large yellow envelope.

It was heavy, maybe there was money inside, but he also felt another key. It took a second to rip it open and spill the contents out on the desk. Several pages of typed instructions, a long slender key and a wallet ... Benny sat back to read.

"Dear Benny," Richard had written. "If you're reading this then I am dead or locked up, I'd rather it be the former if there's a choice. The key will open the elevator and on the page below you will find a list of 'things' I have in my apartment upstairs I would just as soon no one ever see. Please collect them and destroy.

"But the key will also allow you to open the elevator doors where you will see a little red button that is normally used for maintenance. It's low down on the frame about a foot off the floor. By pushing it you will raise the elevator about five feet, enough to get in under the compartment where you need to shut down the electrical cut off on the wall first, you must do this to stay safe.

"Then my friend you need to open the green box bolted to the wall at the back, further instructions await you there. There's no need to thank me for what you will find, just use it wisely and enjoy your life. That's all, except all you need to do is turn the power back on and press the red button once again to restore the elevator to working order.

"We had fun together, a couple of real people. Yes, you were right ... I've been holding out on you all these years, but not like you think. What you will find in that box I brought with me, it wasn't something I needed to share, but now it's all yours. Have a good life. Richard."

Benny followed the steps, used the key, pushed the button and shut off the power. There was light enough to see the green box as he crawled in to reach it. He couldn't move it, but there was no lock, just a hasp which he opened. And when he swung the lid up Benny gasped at what he saw, and then sat down on the greasy concrete flooring.

Richard awoke from his nap, the drugs they gave him to improve his heart function seemed to knock him out. He smelled them before he opened his eyes; there were twenty vases of beautiful flowers jamming every horizontal surface in the room.

The nurse came running when she heard the sound, the loud raucous laughter filled the ICU. She stopped at the door and smiled; Richard was laughing ... and laughing...and laughing.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Robby pushed through the doors into the clinic, briefcase in hand, a backpack stuffed with homework over his shoulder. If the load was light this afternoon he could get in some time on that anatomy assignment, otherwise it would be a late night at home. At least Paul would keep his dinner warm.

He smiled, it happened every time he thought of Paul. Almost eight years since they had met, eight wonderful years that had changed his life. Robby had no doubt that Paul was the reason behind his success; the man did everything to support his choices.

He was looking forward to Spring Break, they needed to get away. Otherwise he would have spent the time here, the flow of sick people never slowed down. Triage, a word that meant assess the damage, which was all he could do for patients at the clinic. He knew enough to spot the symptoms of AIDS as it developed.

They had two doctors here most days, those guys were the heroes. The door was open to anyone and they treated everything from colds to the worst cases of HIV. The latter were often given a ride to Hospice, too ill to treat and sick enough to scare the other patients. Those they caught with early onset symptoms were prescribed the latest dose of pills.

Education was still the number one means of prevention, and Robby taught a class every Wednesday night for those gay men either scared enough or brave enough to attend. It gave him a chance to look them over, talk about lifestyle choices and cull the ones that showed any signs of the disease.

Tonight would be no different, last week he had found a man with sores on his legs. Robby set his things down in the locker room and dressed in a lab coat. First he wanted to make his rounds of the patient care nurses and see how they were doing; he'd already seen a dozen people sitting in the waiting room.

"Hi, Betsy ... looks busy," Robby said to the nurse on duty.

"About normal," She replied. "One for the hospital, a ten year old with tonsillitis, another patient with a broken hand. But you need to see the man in exam room 'D,' he has what appears to be some early onset symptoms."

"OK, I'll start there," Robby said, pulling on a pair of latex examination gloves. "Who's the doc tonight?"

"Mark, he's working on the broken hand, looks like the guy punched a wall."

Robby rolled his eyes; people were their own worst enemy. He walked the corridor, nodded to another nurse and grabbed the clipboard out of the exam 'D' bin. He opened the door to the room and stopped dead in his tracks. He knew that face only too well ... Joey.

"Hello, Joey."

"Rob? Damn, Robby, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me alright ... I work here part time."

"You can't be no doctor," Joey said.

"Not yet, but soon," Robby replied.

Joey coughed, and the sound chilled Robby to the bone.

"How long have you been coughing like that?" Robby asked.

"A week ... can't get rid of this nasty cold," Joey said.

"Let's start your exam, and then the doc can take over."

"You really going to become a doctor? That's awesome," Joey said.

"I have my heart set on it, but it's going to take a few more years," Robby said, helping Joey lift the T-shirt off over his head. "Have you been eating regularly?"

"You know, when I can," Joey replied.

"Where are you living?" Robby asked, checking Joey's glands in the neck and under his arms. Robby took a stethoscope and listened to Joey's lungs, there was a fluid buildup. At the very least these were signs of tuberculosis, only a test would tell.

"Remember Neil Foster? He lets me stay on his porch," Joey said.

"Neil ... oh yeah, that guy, I don't like him," Robby said. "Guess I know why he wants you around."

"It's nothin; he's stoned most of the time."

"Stand up and drop your pants," Robby said, and then he smiled. "Never said that to you before."

Joey laughed and that set off the coughing again. Robby nodded. "Bad cough, have you had any diarrhea?"

"Yeah, that's why I don't eat much," Joey said.

"I'll be right back," Robby said.

He stepped back into the hallway and made his way down to the nurse's station. There he grabbed a face mask and the magnetic orange label which he applied to the doorframe when he returned. The mask was to ward off Joey's sputum, the label would warn the other staffers. There was no doubt in Robby's mind, Joey was HIV positive.

Mark would have to make the diagnosis, they would take blood. Only then would they know how far the disease had progressed. Robby knew that if they let Joey go back on the street he would act out, he would have sex, and he would probably spread his disease. Robby paused as he tied the mask across his face, what did the friendship mean to him now?

He felt sad, mainly because Paul had tried to prevent this. But Paul hadn't failed, Joey had ... and God knows how many other men out there had been infected because of him. The diagnosis and treatment had evolved in the past five years, they had a chemical cocktail. It wasn't a cure but it slowed the disease down.

But there were a lot of pills and they had to be taken on a strict schedule, not something Joey was good at handling. And the cost was astronomical, even with the manufacturer's discounts ... Joey couldn't afford it. Robby had one chance; he had to get Joey into Hospice.

Robby opened the door to the exam room and Joey was sitting on the table naked. Now the sores on his legs were apparent, Kaposi's sarcoma ... Joey had full blown AIDS. Robby looked up into those eyes and saw the fear.

This was the point that Robby should have walked away, called the doctor and handed things over, but he didn't. He placed his hands on either side of Joey's head and stared back.

"I'm here for you, Joey. We'll get through this together."

It was Brian all over again ... all Robby wanted to do was scream.

But that was not how doctors acted ... or friends either. Robby was looking at Joey's face and realizing this was the face of death. He could not heal the body, but he could improve the quality of life for the time that remained.

"Is it bad?" Joey asked.

Robby nodded. "You have the same thing that killed Brian, you have AIDS."

Joey slowly nodded. "I'm gonna die ... I better go."

"Go where, Joey? Stay with me, let me get you some help."

"What can you do?" Joey asked.

"I can help you live a while longer, I can make sure you don't have any pain. Don't run away, I don't want you to die on the streets," Robby said.

"The street killed me," Joey said. "I knew it was gonna happen right after Brian died."

"Why didn't you stop, why did you walk away when Paul told you it was dangerous?"

"I don't know anything else. You got lucky; I always wanted you to be lucky ever since we met. I would have died a long time ago if it wasn't for you. Remember when Momma left me, you kept me going. I loved you then ... I still do."

"I love you too, Joey. Don't run away from this, let us help you. I'll make sure you get into Hospice, they take good care of their patients."

"We had good times didn't we, I mean when we were kids ... "Joey said.

"They were the best," Robby replied.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Eastern Avenue was pretty quiet for a Friday night, it had been for years. The Park was deserted under the bright sodium vapor lights, not a soul to be seen. The only real activity was down by the Brick House Bar or over at the new indoor skating rink the city had installed a while back.

The wall was gone, as were the low bushes that once shielded the boys from the prying eyes of the patrol cars. Strange cars didn't stop here anymore; the boys had moved on ... those that remained. But the game was still being played, on different streets, in different neighborhoods, it would always be there.

The whistler's club was disbanded, those who were left had moved on. But even now the neighborhood would sometimes echo with the ringing sound of a loud whistle, friends still communicated this way, they just had no idea how it all began.

Robby was there for Joey until the end, fulfilling his desires to nurture, a chance he never had with Brian. Joey had a lot of comfort from Paul and Bob as well, he would laugh up until the final moments of his life. Far from the neighborhood in which he grew up, away from the green grass of the Park, Joey gave up his last breath.

He never got to see Robby graduate from medical school and assume the mantle of doctor, but he knew it was going to happen. In the final year of his life Joey called Robby 'Doc' every chance he got. Doctor Robert Barnes, a far cry from the little boy he once was.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Benny was finished packing and sat back with a sigh. Lord, his past all fit in two suitcases, the rest was crap. The house was quiet now, the boys all gone. They had come from the street and gone back to the street, albeit a little richer. He couldn't feel guilty about it, they were all survivors.

It was time to take care of number one, he now came first. This house was a dump, but the minute the neighborhood knew he was gone the place would get stripped of everything. He wasn't leaving much behind, nothing of any value ... nothing except the memories.

He would remember the boys who had come and gone, the laughter, the tears ... the very essence of life at such a young age. It was almost time to go ... and he smiled. He had hired a limo to take him to the train station; it would give the neighbors something to gawk at. But then he really didn't know the people who lived around here that well and ...

There was a noise at the back of the house, hadn't he locked the doors? The limo wasn't due for another fifteen minutes ...

"Benny ... you here, Benny?" A voice called. He didn't recognize the sound. Footsteps tracked across the old linoleum flooring in the kitchen and approached the door to his apartment.

The face that appeared was familiar, the red hair was shorter, but the body was tall and lanky.

"Hey, Benny ... where is everyone?" Red asked.

Benny smiled; he'd always liked this one. "Gone, and if you'd waited an hour I wouldn't have been here myself. Where have you been?"

Red shook his head. "Hagerstown, I did almost four years for theft, could have been six except I was a good boy."

Benny shook his head. "So you just got out of prison and decided to come here?"

Red shrugged. "I don't have anything ... nowhere else to go."

Benny looked at the baggy jeans and the gray shirt. Yeah, the boy looked like an ex-con. But he wasn't a boy anymore.

"How old are you, Red?"

"Twenty-six ... why?"

"What are you going to do with the rest of your life? The streets have changed around here, you can't go back to that," Benny said.

"Don't want to be on the street anymore. I was hopin you might have some work for me, but then the boys are gone."

"I'm going back to New York," Benny said. "I came into some money and was thinking about opening my own restaurant. You never did learn how to cook, did you?"

Red smiled. "No, I would burn water."

Benny stood up and realized Red was his height now. "I'm getting too old to teach a boy new tricks ... fortunately you aren't a boy anymore. I bet you learned a lot of new things in prison."

Red shook his head. "Nope, no games. I got my GED and have thirty credits towards college, I went to school."

"Oh really? How admirable, what a smart man you are. Now if all those other little brats had done something that smart they would have a decent life."

"If they'd been that smart they wouldn't have ended up here, Benny."

"Touché ... you always were head and shoulders above the others. Have you ever been to New York?" Benny asked.

"Nope, am I going with you?" Red asked.

Benny smiled. "I'd like that." And just then they heard the sound of a car horn out front. "Our carriage is here, my dear."

"Let me get your bags," Red said.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The End.


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"Whistler's Club" Copyright © 2010 by Chris James. All rights reserved.
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