Part 7 (1/2)

”Sure,” he said, ”they would. I'm not saying that it's not a good film. It's one of the best I've ever seen. But the sponsors won't go for it. It's too sophisticated. They want ma.s.s audience appeal. People out in the sticks won't get it.”

We had to stop talking because someone might hear us. Theatre people are the most suspicious in the world. If anyone heard us discussing the possibility that the pilot was no good they'd think we were putting a hex on it.

Allison was waiting in the lobby when we got there. She came running over. I just had time to whisper to Sylvan, ”Enter the Blessed Damozel,” before she reached us.

”I have to go to a party at Amy's but I'll be home by eleven,” Allison said breathlessly. ”I'll call you. You'll be home, won't you?”

I decided to play it to the hilt. I looked up at Sylvan as if he were the one who made the decisions. He got his cue.

”Miss Britain and I are going out for a while,” he said sternly. ”I hadn't planned to make it an early evening but I'll bring you home before eleven, Sloane, if there's something you'd rather do.”

”No need to change our plans, darling,” I said. ”I can talk to Allison tomorrow. By the way, have you two met?” I introduced them. Sylvan and I left after making vague comments about Allison's bringing along a friend sometime so that we could all go out together.

The reaction didn't set in until we were in the cab heading toward my apartment. It had seemed the right thing to do at the time but now I wasn't so sure. Maybe Allison would think I was having an affair with Sylvan and didn't want her any longer. Maybe I had been too cold toward her.

Sylvan came up to the apartment with me. I sat on the couch and he lay with his head in my lap. It was nice to be able to do that with a man and not have him get the wrong idea. I told him my fears about Allison.

”Don't worry, darling... Christ, I hate that word. Everybody uses it and it's lost all meaning for them. I try to keep from using it myself but it slips out.”

”Occupational hazard,” I said.

”Yeah. Well anyway, as I was saying, I think that bit tonight will work like a charm. Allison was jealous. It was written all over her. That's good. She needs something to chew on. You've been too good to her. I know what happened to her that night was no picnic but she'll continue to wallow in self-pity about it if you let her. This way, she's got a real threat to deal with. She's got to think about something that's happening right this minute instead of licking old wounds. I think she'll snap out of it now.”

”I hope you're right, Sylvan.”

”I know I'm right,” he said. ”Want to bet she'll call at eleven on the chance that you might be home and continue calling all night if she has to until she gets you?”

”Think she will?” I asked.

”I'll take odds on it. And if you're the smart cookie I think you are, you won't answer the phone. Not until she's called a few times. Let her wait and worry. It'll be good for her soul.” He got up. ”I want a drink. Do you have anything here or should I go down and buy a bottle?”

I had half a bottle of rum. Sylvan thought he should get some more as insurance against running out.

He went to the liquor store and returned in a few minutes with the rum and a dozen bottles of c.o.ke.

I had the gla.s.ses and ice and the lime all ready.

”Lime juice is for amateurs,” he said. ”I like my Cuba Libres made with lemon juice.”

I had a bottle of condensed lemon juice in the refrigerator. We made the drinks with that. They were good. Tarter than usual.

We were on our second drink when the phone rang. Sylvan looked at his watch. ”10:35, she must be anxious.”

”Maybe I ought to answer it. Maybe it's not Allison,” I said.

”Is there anyone who would be likely to call you that you really want to talk to besides Allison?” he asked. ”If you answer that phone you're running the risk of blowing our whole scheme. If it's not Allison, whoever it is can call you tomorrow.”

The phone stopped ringing. ”How come you're such a schemer? I asked. I thought that was a woman's bit.”

”Not where I play marbles it isn't. Gay boys play games with each other all the time. Especially the real feminine ones, the screaming queens. They've thought of tricks that would outdo a hustler.”

”Must make life pretty hectic.”

”You don't know the half of it,” Sylvan said bitterly. ”Sometimes I envy you girls. There's no permanency with the boys. One couple in a thousand stays together for longer than a couple of months. Most of them are just interested in one night stands. At least girls sometimes settle down together.”

”You sound like you want to go straight. That's the only way to find real security,” I reminded him.

”Doll, I'm like that guy in the gag. You know, the one about the two f.a.ggots who walk into a bar and see a beautiful looking woman sitting at the bar. One of the queens turns to the other and says, 'When I see a gorgeous woman like that I sometimes wish I were a lesbian.' I'm like that. I can't imagine myself not being gay.”

The phone rang again. I jumped.

”Take it easy, Sloane. It's going to be doing that a lot tonight. What you need is another drink.”

He made us both doubles while I sat clenching my hands in my lap. Mercifully, the ringing stopped by the time he came back with the drinks.

”I don't know if I can hold out much longer.”

”You've got to. Last night you told me you were ready to go through h.e.l.l fire for the girl and tonight you won't even exert the small effort necessary to keep from answering the phone.”

”You're right,” I reluctantly agreed. ”It's driving me batty but I'll do it. I don't think I'd be able to if you weren't here.”

”I'll stay all night if you'd like.”

I hesitated for a moment. Sylvan wasn't particularly feminine in his appearance. Could he be lying to me? I doubted it. He had a womanly personality... if there is such a thing.

”I'd be grateful if you did,” I said.

”Can the grat.i.tude c.r.a.p. We're in this together. It's all for one and one for all. We're riding the same horse and it's going to come in first.”

”We came over on the boat together. We scrub each other's back. We're dishes in the same sink.”

”We're riding the same orbit. Jesus, I hate that television talk. Bunch of overgrown Scoutmasters giving each other pep talks,” he said.

The telephone rang again. And again and again. Every half hour. We made a game of counting the number of rings. By 12:30 Allison was letting it ring fifteen times before hanging up.

We killed my half bottle of rum and started on the one Sylvan had bought. After the first drink from the new bottle I knew I had had it. One more and I'd be on the floor.

Sylvan was showing the effects of the liquor too. With each drink he got more feminine. About 12:00 he had started lisping and now he was fluttering his eyelashes at me.

I suggested that we call it a night.

”O.k. Answer the phone when Allison calls at one so she won't keep us up all night and then we'll turn in,” he suggested.

I waited for the one o'clock call in a mellow alcoholic haze. When the phone rang Sylvan had to nudge me to remind me that this time I was supposed to answer it.

”Sloane?” Allison's voice was tinged with anxiety. ”I called you at eleven but you weren't in. I thought I'd try you again before turning in for the night.”