Boys of Life (23 page)

ind I thmk he probabl) didn't Carlos stood up eth, who w.i n on us. 1 think I told

ith i 't b< hi "ii v amera

that i ould get i u( oui anyway It was this tl he had lik< ifinmid tot

theii --tils

>..is s.is in D 168

BOYSOFLIFE □

on camera in the sand in front of this take city in a warehouse in Brooklyn, "it's reality, whatever happens, reality definitely is the sum total of all this."

Scott looked at me and smiled. "So, it's nice to meet von," he said. I had to laugh. I was scared to death, because I knew it was all up to me. That was why Carlos needed me—-nothing was going to happen unless I made it happen. And it something did happen, and it

was interesting, then that was the only thing that counted.

Well—then let's make things interesting, I remember thinking. I reached out and touched Scott's cheek with the tips of my fingers, barely grazing the skin. Scott seemed completely indifferent to that, it didn't even register on him. I put my other hand up and touched his other cheek, stroking both his cheeks, which were completely smooth-he didn't even have the slightest trace of a beard yet.

I'd never untied somebody's tie before, and it's not as easy as you might think—but finally I managed to get it loose. He kept looking right into my eyes, and I kept looking into his—the way Carlos always did to me. Was that where Scott learned it too? I had to wonder. I unbuttoned the top button of his shirt; suddenly he turned his head to the side and looked up at the ceiling. Then he did this peculiar, sweet thing. He started singing. I don't know what it was—he was singing very quietly and it faded in and out so you could only hear parts of it, and I don't know who he was singing to, but it was like some little child singing. It scared me half to death.

Carlos was going wild. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, behind Seth and the camera. He'd taken a handkerchief out o{ his pocket, and he was gnawing on it, he was so excited at what was going on. It made me excited too—I concentrated on unbuttoning Scott's shirr, one button at a time, and sliding my hand in between the cloth and his skin. He wasn't wearing any T-shirt, and his skin was ice cold. I found one ot his nipples, and rubbed it till its little nub got completely hard and I felt the gooseflesh around it. Scott was still singing—he'd forget a little ot his song, and then remember and pick up wherever he could. I thought he could be some kind o( mechanical doll, especially with his ^kln so cold and hard; and I could feel his ribs, the way his skin stretched ti^'ht between them.

I wondered if this was giving Scott any kind of hard-on — I was completely stiff in my jeans and it was even a little painful, the my dick didn't have the room it wanted — but looking down at the front of his pants I couldn't tell. I remember it seemed important to me CO

D PAULRUSSELL

know, and I half wanted to grope him down there. But I remembered what Carlos said about all this—how everything was happening here between us for the first time, and after that there wasn't another first time. I had to make it last as long as I could, I had to use that self-control Carlos was talking about. Which was definitely some kind oi exciting thing to do.

Scott wriggled his shoulders to help me slide his jacket off him. Then both my hands were inside his shirt and I felt up under his arms to pinch his little tufts of hair. His ice-cold body was sweating something furious. I rubbed my hands down his sides, his hip bones just under the waist of his khakis. He was still singing, but then every once in a while he'd catch his breath, especially when my fingers would slide under his waistband to graze his bush of hair down there. He's got to have a hard-on, I thought—I was fixated on that hard-on, and whether he had one or not.

But I shied away from his dick. I was trying to go really slow and stretch things out like maybe time itsclt was slow motion m here and if we could stretch it out thinner and thinner we'd tall right through. I liked that idea a lor, which sounds like I was drunk or something but I wasn't. I was the most stone-sober 1 ever telr in my whole lite. 1 wanted to cry 1 telr so sober.

1 unbuttoned Scott's shirr cutis, then 1 pushed his shirt back on his shoulden and peeled it off. I touched his arms at the bend oi the elbow. It made him stop singing. "No," he mumbled in this gn Way, the way SOmebod) would it you bothered them in their deep sleep.

That did it- All this time we'd been sitting facing each othei in

the sand. Now, grabbii i by his belt loops, l yanked us both up

so wi e. h wasn't the smoothes! thing in the

world we both s,,rt oi stumbled oui way up but 1 didn't want us

sitting in the sand anymore. I wanted us standing with that city in the

• L could gel .i shot oi us tru

being the camera and I could see t arlos ofl to the side

hing. 1 looked over to him and then 1 kii i>t it

what I nl f but it was also exa< tly what I

rued to u Inm t hing there w

I pushed vk ith my >uth. I le

flat hard taste, but when I put my Mini around

him liquid his little k e-cold I una me

B O Y S O F L I F E □

in some kind of motion the whole time, his crotch rubbing up against mine, grinding away at me in tact.

He definitely had a hard-on—I could feel it jutting up hard inside his pants. I broke away to catch my breath from that amazing kiss. Scott was breathing pretty hard, and I was too—my head rushing and mv dick aching down in my jeans. He pulled back and looked at me with these solemn kid's eyes. It was a kind of breather in this little war we were fighting with each other. His lips looked all swollen up from our kissing, and when he licked them I couldn't stand it any longer. I moved right in against him and undid his pants and slipped both my hands down in there where it was warm, the only part o{ his whole body that was warm.

And there it was—I had both my hands around this slim little hard dick. "Oh," he said, and he leaned over and bit me on the side of the neck, just a light bite. Then he was sucking on my skin while my hands felt on down in his pants to his balls that were tight and little and all clenched up under his dick. I went ahead and shoved his pants and underwear down—he was wearing these skimpy sky blue things, which I guess is what prep school kids wear. He did a step or two, and then he was out of them, we were both stepping all over them in the sand. He was going crazy on my neck and both my hands were crazy on his dick, moving up and down on it in these big slow pulls.

We broke apart and stood there looking at each other, Scott without a stitch and me still all buttoned up. There was something great about that. I wanted to throw him down in the sand and step all over him, I wanted to show him exactly who was in control here. But before I could do anything, his dick started to completely go soft. I remember—I was really distressed. It was some kind of insult to me, that he'd go limp just like that. But before I could think what to do, Scott had already gone and made the next move.

He turned around, grabbed his ankles, and bent over. I'd never seen anybody's asshole before, and it took me off-guard. I could hear Carlos saying, "That's it, that's it. Now zoom," while I just stood there and gaped. I'd tried to touch Carlos's asshole once or twice because I was curious, but I think I mentioned how that was always off-limits. Now here was this asshole, all pink and puckery and staring right up at me. For a minute I was stunned— like a bird when a cat gets it. My dick completely wilted down to the size of my finger, and I remember thinking, some porn movie this is going to turn out to be where nobody can get it up. I could see Carlos motioning me to turn us so the camera

D PAUL RUSSELL

could still get the city in the background. I grabbed Scott's hips and scooted him around a little; then I took my finger and ran it along the crack of his ass where the camera could see. Very slowly, barely touching it—it was something I'd wanted to do to somebody tor a long time. When I got to his hole my finger sank right in. I hadn't expected that, but before I knew it my finger was all the way in.

I pulled out, then I stuck two fingers in. Scott groaned and lurched forward a little, but I still had my other hand on his hip so I caught him. I twisted those fingers around. It was amazing how slick it was when you got up in there—like animal innards, which I guess is exactly what it was. He was making noises like I was hurting him some, and that made me go at it even more. I got another finger up in there, then four fingers. I rammed my hand in all the way up to mv thumb, and lie made this low sound like some animal that's caught in a trap. Like some wolf chewing its leg off, I remembering thinking.

This was making my dick get hard again—especially since 1 kept shoving those fingers up his ass, paying him back tor I wasn't even Mire what. But that groan I was wrenching out ot him was sweet.

When my fingers came out of Scott's butt tor about the twentieth time, I noticed something that sort o\ made me stop. They had this gook on them, shit mixed with some blood is what it was. It made me go sott all OVW again and sick to mv stomach - which he must've known Somehow, because he twisted away from me And threw himself on the sand on his back. It was like he'd washed up on some shore. 1 here'd

,i shipwreck; he'd almost got drowned.

I don't know exactly why I did wh.it I did next. 1 pulled out my

dick and pissed all over him. 1 pissed on his tace and on his chest and

in his hair and on his dick, I pitted like I w.is never going to stop

I isk me why 1 did it, I cin't tell \ou. I |iist did it .iml

u h ; md then it was oi I was King th< red In m\

md the sand around him turning dark with It, little grains *>t sand

snuk to his sides where It splattered and va\ with Ins

shit and blood, rhen i arloi was beside me. touching me on the shoul*

iiititul. beautiful you break m\ rt " Which I thought i Ice nil I looked ai hii face and

lund tears rolling down Ins ». heeks .nd h.>wlme, like ■< mania* .md wiping ai hii i flat "t In

'• U L RUSSELL

K if : ailing something

[ chinl -Kern

hem in their

lid walk me-

'in fol f light I might like to have

them It tomething I'll rv n at the time I wai waj too happy

thoH 1 about them. I rememher I

ho| ; walking around the apart-

incut m them, loving the I I mtlfC've heen a hilar

hoots. But Carlos didn't laugh I think Ik- wai -is impressed with I r they looked

as I .'

They're fin- only thingl Carlos ever gave me. I mean, he gave me

lots, hut not Miff I could hold in m\ handf. Carlos never cared about

ii like that. He <>n who was totally content to live

in flu rundown loft with I a mattresi to sleep on and a

cou| f jean ind some 1 -shins. He wai trying to travel as light

.1 he COuld, Bnd I flunk he fell sorry tor all those people v.\.

I up In flu- thingl they owned that they weren't ever able n> do anything else ex. I all theii time keeping their poteen

ther. I think in some way tint's what all his movies were about— Lou ii . »f inal "ts can ruin your lite it vou're not

'ill.

I guest In the time he gave me those, he thought he could trust

me I reful. I remembei I wore them all the tune—even in the

hoi lumi later, when I was living in Tennessee. 1

them "in ot the clotei even once in i while jim to look

ii them lhe) were .ill ill md each one oi the little

• the light .i different way. Von could itudy thai makeskin

t..r houn and rtevei get tired oi lo it. The other thing I liked

h the) wi n though I kno* from when I wai i kid

und in the woods hoi* i inakeskin after it's I

ihed i 'In- m.isi delb ate thing in the world.

.n.i i u-tt Neu Yorl I nevei put them on again, even on ii I'd find myseli wondering where (■ arloi wai thai ind I'd aish I wai then- with him whai ire, I in-. i want a Ith him 11

the liqu n the waj home from work

.n ( tufa foi old timet I'd i •" k m\ trw I Muif this little park called lorn Let Tuk and watch the

B O Y S O F L I F E D

Mississippi flow past, and Arkansas in the distance on the other side. In the middle of the park, I remember, there was this monument to Tom Lee—a piece of rock that said on it, a worthy negro. Tom Lee was this slave who swam out in the Mississippi when some riverboal caught on fire and saved a bunch of white people from drowning. And he got drowned himself.

I felt completely lonely, like I'd made some wrong turn and gotten very lost. Even though now my life was what you'd call normal and not crazy like it used to be with Carlos, still I felt like there was this wrong turn I'd made. I had a job and a house to go home to and Monica waiting for me and everything. Still, I'd watch the river go past with pieces of lumber and garbage floating in the current, and I'd think about Carlos and it all seemed so far away, like it was a dream that had happened to me but that was all. Those were the nights I might've gone home and dragged those boots out of the closet and put them on, but I never did. It would've been too depressing, and no telling what I might've done once I had them on.

After I left Carlos, there was only one time I ever put those boots back on—but that'll have to be for later.

B O Y S O F L I F E □

not expect me to say that. Bur I do say it. And I also say—I did exactly what I had to do, too.

Which is jumping way ahead to the end —and I'll net there soon enough anyway.

Ahout The Gospel: I know there've always heen lots of rumors about that movie, mostly from people who weren't there when we made ir, And so couldn't have known anything. But there was something ahout this being Carlos's secret movie that set everybody whispering about the way it was made, the kinds o( things Carlos made us do. Making things sound worse than they really were. First off, he didn't make us do anything. Everything we did, we made up on the spot. You could say, we wanted to do it. The shit scene, for example. It's true Scott squatted down over me and dropped this turd right on my chest, and it's true he dabbled around in it a little and even tasted it. But Carlos never made us eat each other's shit. I know some people testified that ar my trial, and I know they did it because they thought they were helping me out by saying things like that about Carlos—but they're wrong, and they know it. Just like those same people who later said Carlos hypnotized us before we did scenes like that, so we'd do whatever he wanted us to without being able to resist. But that's also not true. I'll say here for the record that it's not true, and if Scott decided to eat his shit off my chest then that was something he decided to do, and there might've been a lot of reasons for it or maybe there wasn't any reason at all, it was just something he did—but still he was the one who decided to do it.